#critical design data

[milo-the-professional-yapper]

So I went ahead and deleted my last post because honestly- I get the criticism with the skin tones now. They do need to do better when designing characters of color in this show- I do think there’s an issue with many artists making darker skin look ashy and gray and while for some characters it makes sense, it loses the meaning when it’s every single character in a series.

Personally, if I ever draw a character who is a POC- I try to research and find as many different references as I can so I don’t get any of it wrong. I’m not the best artist, but I try to have variety when it comes to what I draw. I also love learning new things, before my iPad broke I had a study I was doing where I practiced drawing characters with box braids, locks, textured curly hair, and I had been working on different Afro styles most recently. It was hard, but that’s why I was doing a study of the styles (RIP iPad- that’s all gone now). As for skin tones- I love doing a variety on that as well. I will say that I have seen plenty of people being borderline colorist when it comes to these characters- the fact that the skin was lighter was not the problem, I think it’s more so the lack of warmth and saturation?

Since you have characters with a more vibrant color palette in heaven- there’s not much of a reason to make Sera and Emily very desaturated (though I argue that Em is worse than Sera in this situation). I do hope we have more variety with characters in seasons 2 and 3- but I’m actually very unsure. Based on what we’ve seen so far.

Also, just a side note, don’t even get me started on Alastor- he was brought up quite a bit on my now deleted post. I have plenty of issues with the design and just slapping the “oh yeah he’s half creole” just to excuse the use of voodoo symbols in the show- I absolutely agree that’s that’s shady. I know that his demon form is supposed to reflect whatever he did in life/ how he died but like- he has NO ethnic features?? I know there’s mixed people who have light skin and practically no ethnic features- but I feel like we need some visual indicator rather than a “yeah hes mixed” randomly said on a stream one day. Most people are going to assume that he was a white man. Maybe that’ll change once we get his backstory- but who knows.

Anyways- that’s all I’m gonna really say about it. I do love this show but it absolutely has its flaws. I hate how the genuine criticisms are overshadowed by people who just hate the show and Viv- because there are some really valid takes out there, it’s just hard to find the ones who are genuinely just pointing out the shows flaws in a constructive way.

[jcmarchi]

Joe Philleo, Founder & CEO at Edia – Interview Series

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/joe-philleo-founder-ceo-at-edia-interview-series/

Joe Philleo, Founder & CEO at Edia – Interview Series

Joe Philleo, the co-founder and CEO of Edia, leads the development of an AI-powered math platform designed for teachers and students, aiming to improve outcomes on state exams. The platform operates on the belief that education plays a crucial role in shaping individuals’ life trajectories. Edia’s mission is to create technology that ensures every student has access to an exceptional educational experience.

Currently, Edia collaborates with over 100 school districts across the United States, including prominent ones such as Fulton County, Loudoun County, and Palm Beach. These partnerships have demonstrated measurable success, with annual improvements in state math exam performance ranging from less than 2% to as much as 5-12%.

You made the bold decision to drop out of USC to work with Joe Lonsdale at 8VC, gaining exposure to groundbreaking tech projects. What were some of these projects?

Working with Joe Lonsdale at 8VC was an incredible opportunity. I left school when I was 20 years old to join his team, and it was my first exposure to Silicon Valley. Working in venture capital feels like living in the future—I met a lot of very smart people who were building self-driving cars, AI doctors, VR glasses, and new software systems to dramatically improve industry.

I spent a lot of time focused on defense, government, and education. I learned a lot. My biggest lesson from 8VC was the demystification of Silicon Valley. I grew up in Indiana, far away from any of this stuff. But spending time with Joe Lonsdale and other great entrepreneurs and investors made me understand that I could also make progress on solving big problems.

You’ve mentioned feeling disappointed that few top Silicon Valley teams were focused on K-12 education, which led you to start Edia in 2020. What specifically motivated you to tackle this gap in the education sector, and why did you feel the timing was right to launch Edia?

School has always been a personal obsession for me. I had three incredible teachers growing up who changed the trajectory of my life, and I also had some very bad experiences with teachers that pulled me in the other direction. Early on, I experimented with different ideas for how we could improve school. In 11th grade, I made a website called “booksarelong.com” to crowdsource AP textbook notes, and in college my friend and I applied Google’s PageRank algorithm to Wikipedia to build microcourses for all of human knowledge.

The real turning point came in 2020. Before then, only 10% of students in the United States had their own school-issued device, which severely limited how teachers and schools could use technology in their classrooms. Then, almost overnight, we went from 10% to 90% of students having devices because of the Covid-19 pandemic. In June 2020, OpenAI launched GPT-3, and it was clear that this was the moment to build something that could shape K-12 education.

What were the initial challenges you and your team faced when building Edia? How did you overcome them?

From the beginning, our team has been led by incredible engineers and designers. So, building our breakthrough math product wasn’t easy, but it also wasn’t the hardest part. As outsiders to the space, it took us a long time to distinguish our breakthrough AI math solution from legacy products that made big claims but rarely delivered. We felt that we had to distinguish Edia by showing real impact, which led us to guarantee growth for districts that use Edia—i.e. if they don’t see measurable results within one year of implementing, we offer a full refund. That promise has been a game-changer for building trust.

Can you explain how Edia’s AI math coaching works to provide real-time, personalized feedback for students?

One of the surprising things we realized early on was how little progress had been made in math learning software. Even fundamental challenges like “how do you easily do math on a computer keyboard?” hadn’t been solved before. We invented a completely new way for students to type math, inspired by Pinyin—the method Chinese and Japanese speakers use to type thousands of characters on a keyboard. This innovation makes it easier for students to show their work on a computer than on paper. Once the work is digital, AI can analyze it to understand the student’s thinking, identify where they went wrong, and deliver personalized inline feedback. The learning experience adapts to each student’s needs in real-time.

How does your platform use data to support teachers with small group instruction and data-driven lesson planning?

Small group instruction is one of the most impactful strategies for secondary math teachers, but it’s also one of the hardest to execute. Teachers often have 120 students across multiple classes and subjects, and it’s nearly impossible to pinpoint every student’s gaps, band them together, and create personalized lessons for each group. That’s where Edia comes in. Our platform automatically collects data from classroom assignments, quizzes, and homework to map out exactly where each student is struggling. Then Edia automatically forms small groups and generates customized lesson plans and practice tailored to their needs. This makes small group instruction manageable for teachers and has a huge impact on student outcomes.

Chronic absenteeism is a significant challenge in many districts��how does Edia’s platform address this issue uniquely with AI?

Chronic absenteeism—defined as missing 10% of school or more—has doubled since 2020, and it’s one of the biggest challenges districts face today. The key to solving chronic absenteeism is twofold: districts need to (1) understand and address why students are missing school and (2) rebuild the community’s expectation that coming to class matters. Our platform uses AI to engage parents within minutes of a student missing class to ask why their child is absent.

This interaction reinforces the importance of attendance, and it helps administrators understand the root causes of absenteeism—whether it’s issues with a specific teacher, social anxiety, lack of transportation, or something else. Armed with this information, schools can take meaningful action to address the problem.

Could you tell us more about the AI-driven, multilingual communication system and how it helps to engage families in real-time?

Engaging families effectively requires breaking down communication barriers. Many schools struggle to connect with parents who speak different languages or don’t check traditional forms of communication. Our AI-driven platform tackles this by sending real-time messages in the family’s preferred language, using conversational AI to bridge the gap. For example, if a student misses class, the system immediately reaches out to that family in Spanish, Chinese, Arabic, or any other language to let the family know and ask for an explanation – and parents can easily just reply back. It ensures families stay informed and engaged, while also helping schools address issues proactively. It’s about creating a two-way dialogue that fosters trust and accountability.

What is your long-term vision for Edia? How do you see the platform evolving in the next few years?

Our mission is for every student to have an exceptional experience in school. We want kids to look back 20 years after graduating and think, “Wow, I was really lucky. I had such a great time in school.” That’s the kind of lasting impact we’re aiming for. Right now, we’re focused on solving challenges that block students from succeeding. We began by making math accessible for everyone, and we’ve been able to accelerate growth on state exams from 0-2% per year to 8-23% per year, which is incredible. This year, we launched our AI solution to address chronic absenteeism, which is another critical barrier for many students to succeed.

But the possibilities are endless. From improving school budgeting to rethinking the design of school buildings—why do so many schools look like prisons?—to tackling critical issues like school safety, there’s so much to be done. Schools should be places that inspire, support, and protect kids. We see it as Edia’s mission to take on these challenges and ensure schools provide the best environments for growth and learning.

How do you see AI shaping the future of K-12 education?

One of the most exciting possibilities with AI is solving what’s known as Bloom’s Two Sigma Problem. In 1984, Benjamin Bloom found that replacing classroom instruction with one-on-one tutoring could improve student performance by two standard deviations, bringing an average student to the top of their class. But the problem is scale: there are 60 million students in the U.S. and only about 3 million staff. We simply don’t have enough adults to provide personalized tutoring for every child.

That’s where AI comes in. With AI, we have a real chance to give every student the benefits of a tutor. AI can scale this kind of personalized instruction in ways that were never possible before, helping every child reach their full potential.

What is the most rewarding part of your work at Edia, and how does it align with your personal mission in education?

It’s seeing the impact we’re having in such a diverse range of schools and students. We work with large urban districts like Fulton County in Georgia, New York City, and Palm Beach in Florida. At the same time, we’re also helping some of the smallest, most remote schools in northern Alaska, where the only way to get there is by seaplane or boat.

Knowing that students anywhere in America—whether in the heart of New York City or in a tiny Alaskan village—are both getting access to the same cutting-edge AI technology is really fulfilling. We’re giving these kids the experiences, confidence, and support they need to reach their goals, no matter where they are or what their circumstances might be. It’s an incredible privilege to play even a small role in shaping their futures.

Thank you for the great interview, readers who wish to learn more should visit Edia.

[technijianravi]

Critical Windows Update: Apply Patch Now to Prevent Black Basta Ransomware

[yellowslice]

Why is Data Visualization Critical for Dashboard Design? - Unlock insights with effective dashboard design! Explore why data visualization is crucial for clear, actionable insights. Elevate your analytics game today.

[ellocentlabsin]

How to Choose the Right ReactJS Development Company in Chandigarh

A strong online presence is critical for organizations to succeed in today's digital era. A well-designed and effective website is one of the important aspects that contribute to this presence. ReactJS, a strong JavaScript library, comes into action here. ReactJS has become a cornerstone of current web development due to its ability to construct dynamic and user-friendly interfaces. If you live in Chandigarh and want to use ReactJS, you've come to the right spot. We'll walk you through the process of selecting the finest ReactJS development firm in Chandigarh in this post.

ReactJS is becoming increasingly popular

Trends come and go in the world of web development, but ReactJS has demonstrated its durability. Both businesses and developers have recognized the benefits of adopting ReactJS to create highly responsive and aesthetically appealing online apps. ReactJS's component-based architecture and efficient rendering ensure that users have smooth navigation and quick load times. As a result, there is a growing demand for professional ReactJS developers and development firms, and Chandigarh has emerged as a hub for such services.

Important Factors to Consider When Choosing a ReactJS Development Company - 

1. Experience and Expertise: - Expertise and experience should be your guiding light as you search for the best ReactJS development firm in Chandigarh. Look for a firm that has a team of talented developers with a track record of creating successful ReactJS applications. An experienced team will not only provide high-quality work but will also skillfully handle hurdles, ensuring a smooth development process.

2. Portfolio Evaluation: - A professional ReactJS development business will proudly display its project portfolio. Take the time to go over their portfolio and look at the variety of projects they've worked on. This will give you an idea of their adaptability and ability to customize solutions to various company demands. Pay close attention to the user experience of the websites and applications they've created; this will demonstrate their dedication to providing engaging and user-centric solutions.

3. Client Feedback and Reviews: - Hearing from clients is one of the finest methods to assess a ReactJS development company's legitimacy. Client testimonials and reviews offer personal perspectives of their experiences. Look for organizations that have received favorable feedback that emphasizes not only their technical competence but also their communication, teamwork, and problem-solving abilities. Client satisfaction is a good sign of a company's ability to satisfy expectations and achieve outcomes.

4. Collaboration and communication: - A successful development partnership requires effective communication and teamwork. Choose a firm that appreciates openness and keeps you updated throughout the project. A company that listens to your ideas, comprehends your business objectives, and includes your comments in the development process is more likely to provide a product that is in line with your vision.

5. Further Investigation: - Choosing the best ReactJS development firm in Chandigarh is a critical decision that will shape your organization's online visibility. Consider investigating the following areas to learn more about this subject:

ReactJS Advantages: Discover the particular advantages that ReactJS provides and how they may improve your online apps.

Web Development Trends: Keep up with the newest web development trends, such as the growth of user interfaces and user experience.

Case Studies: Examine case studies that demonstrate how successful ReactJS programming can alter enterprises.

Comparative study: To make an informed decision, do a comparative study of several ReactJS development firms in Chandigarh.

Future of Web Development: Investigate forecasts and insights into the future of web development, as well as how ReactJS will play an important part.

Conclusion:

Finally, selecting the best ReactJS development firm in Chandigarh necessitates thorough analysis and study. You may collaborate with a firm that turns your concept into a dynamic and compelling web application by concentrating on experience, portfolio, customer testimonials, and communication. As technology advances, ReactJS continues to be a driving force in generating outstanding user experiences, making your choice of development partner even more important.

[electronalytics]

Enterprise Hard Disk Market Statistics, Segment, Trends and Forecast to 2032

An enterprise hard disk is a type of high-performance storage device designed for use in enterprise-level environments, where reliability, durability, and fast data access speeds are critical. These hard disks are typically used in servers, data centers, and other high-performance computing applications, where they are used to store large amounts of data and provide fast access to that data.

Enterprise hard disks are typically available in both SAS (Serial Attached SCSI) and SATA (Serial ATA) interfaces, and they come in a range of storage capacities. They are also designed to operate in high-temperature and high-vibration environments, which makes them suitable for use in data centers and other industrial settings.

One key feature of enterprise hard disks is their high reliability. They are designed with advanced error correction mechanisms and other technologies to minimize the risk of data loss due to hardware failure. Many enterprise hard disks also come with built-in redundancy features, such as RAID (Redundant Array of Independent Disks), which provides additional protection against data loss.

The estimated market size for the Enterprise Hard Disc Drives (HDD) Market is provided in terms of both value (million USD) and volume (K Units). Enterprise Hard Disc Drives (HDD) market size has been estimated and validated using both top-down and bottom-up methodologies. These approaches have also been used to estimate the size of numerous additional dependent submarkets within the overall market. Secondary research has been used to identify the major market participants, and primary and secondary research has been used to estimate their market shares. Both confirmed secondary sources and primary sources have been used to calculate all percentage shares, splits, and breakdowns.

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Market Segmentations:

Global Enterprise Hard Disk Market: By Company • Seagate • Western Digital • Toshiba • Eaget • Lenovo • Founder Global Enterprise Hard Disk Market: By Type • External Hard Drives • Internal Hard Drives Global Enterprise Hard Disk Market: By Application • For Desktop • For Notebook • For Server Global Enterprise Hard Disk Market: Regional Analysis All the regional segmentation has been studied based on recent and future trends, and the market is forecasted throughout the prediction period. The countries covered in the regional analysis of the Global Enterprise Hard Disk market report are U.S., Canada, and Mexico in North America, Germany, France, U.K., Russia, Italy, Spain, Turkey, Netherlands, Switzerland, Belgium, and Rest of Europe in Europe, Singapore, Malaysia, Australia, Thailand, Indonesia, Philippines, China, Japan, India, South Korea, Rest of Asia-Pacific (APAC) in the Asia-Pacific (APAC), Saudi Arabia, U.A.E, South Africa, Egypt, Israel, Rest of Middle East and Africa (MEA) as a part of Middle East and Africa (MEA), and Argentina, Brazil, and Rest of South America as part of South America.

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Reasons to Purchase Charge Coupled Device (CCD) Market Report: • To obtain insights into industry trends and dynamics, including market size, growth rates, and important factors and difficulties. This study offers insightful information on these topics.

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• To comprehend consumer behavior: these research studies can offer insightful information about customer behavior, including preferences, spending patterns, and demographics.

• To assess market opportunities: These research studies can aid companies in assessing market chances, such as prospective new goods or services, fresh markets, and new trends.

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Stringent Datalytics offers both custom and syndicated market research reports. Custom market research reports are tailored to a specific client's needs and requirements. These reports provide unique insights into a particular industry or market segment and can help businesses make informed decisions about their strategies and operations.

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[keferon]

Part 2 of Jazz and Prowl in space!

Gonna start calling it Odds of Survival.

Prowl loves entrusting his life to reckless strangers.

———————————————————————

Prowl pulled the release to the airlock and the music was swallowed by the vacuum of space.

Bursting forward, Jazz launched outwards riding the pop of escaping air. The first quintesson had its eye socket repurposed as an ankle bracelet before the second measure even began.

Ah.

Prowl probably should have specified he wanted to try speeding past rather than confront their opponents directly.

Jazz's improvised footwear writhed sluggishly before the mech twisted his ped inside its brain case, finishing it off and turning to face the next nearest opponent.

Odds of survival 26%

The white and blue mech launched himself upwards as the nearest quintesson went for a dive bomb. It's teeth breaking on impact with the sky bridge. Jazz twisted in midair.

They fell in slow motion, back arching against a starlit backdrop. An upside down visor met blue optics. Jazz nodded his head to the side, flicking one horn up and one horn down.

Did he just wink? (#^%)

The falling mech unsheathed a blade from his wrist, driving it through the sputtering quintesson.

Oh Primus has he been flirting the entire time?

Jazz spun, slicing into the next quint to close the distance.

I can not. I can not assume that was intentional. It has to be a cultural miscommunication.

The last two quintessons pounced. Swinging hard, Jazz caught one's jaws with a forearm while he kicked the downed another in the side of the head. The third was attempting to bite into his back but the teeth couldn't get a full purchase on the rounded compact plating.

Odds of survival 22%.

Prowl snapped out of his social etiquette downward spiral. Sprinting from the safety of the airlock door, he knelt behind a large section of external piping, lining up his shots.

Tacnet spun to work.

It was designed to calculate hundreds of possible variations of large scale engagements, including the number of soldiers, type of weaponry available and could even determine the approximate number of ammunitions that would be left over, provided Prowl had enough data at his disposal.

Calculating the marksmanship needed to dispatch three hostiles at medium range while distracted by a highly competent ally?

Odds of Survival 32%

Laughable.

Three shots burst through the thin atmosphere.

Quintesson wreckers were built thick skulled and stubborn. Luckily they came with easily identifiable gaps in their organic construction.

The Quints fell from Jazz, each with a smoking hole where and eye used to be. Jazz looked at Prowl, then the smoking quintessons and back up to Prowl before doing finger guns again.

Speaking of thick skulled and stubborn.

Prowl put on his best Commanders Scowl and pointed in the direction they needed to be currently running in.

Doorwing sensors hiked as he picked up on movement from behind. The incoming hostiles was palpable even in the moons thin atmosphere. Quintessons rarely favored stealth.

Prowl began running.

Jazz kept pace, half turned around to keep track of the incoming troop. Prowl kept his optics locked forward, not remotely willing to risk tripping on the torn apart path.

Tacnet locked on to a large silvery pillow that'd been exposed to the atmosphere.

Expanding LLX Lithium battery. Explosion on contact 90%

Prowl shouted a warning but the air was too thin to carry beyond his own audials.

Jazz will step on the lithium battery in 1.5 clicks (88%) and will be critically injured in at least one leg (76%).

Prowl grabbed Jazz's servo and yanked.

Music erupted in the moment of connection.

Vibrations ran up his arm and across his frame. Inside his audials, Prowl could make out the song Jazz had begun in the airlock. Looking at his visor, mouth agape, only one thought could form in Prowls mind.

How fragging loud is he playing that music?!?

Jazz perked up, and pulled Prowl around in an arc. Multiple sharp impacts thudded into the ground behind him. Prowl turned and almost wished he hadn’t.

Three heavily armored Quintesson bombers equipped with bio-mechanical ballista.

The javelin like spikes were as long as Prowls arm and designed to pin targets in place while the slow moving blimp-like body of the bomber got into position to blow them all to the Pit.

Prowl tugged Jazz in the direction of their objective, refusing to let go in case he tried to launch himself at the bombers. Prowl wasn't sure how Jazz would manage to do so, but Prowl felt an overwhelming nagging sensation in his tanks that he'd fragging try.

Jazz was evidently fine with this arrangement.

As the music pulsed between their palms, Jazz leapt at a diagonal, pulling Prowl along for the ride. The low gravity was so damn floaty. It continually forced Prowl to readjust his footing so he wasn't frantically treading air every time his peds left the ground.

Jazz was evidently fine with that too.

Another round of ammunitions impacted where the two of them had been running.

Their egress began to take on a pattern Prowl was quick to pick up on. It took the bombers 8 clicks to reload, launching at the same time, half a click after musical flair in Jazz's song. At the moment of the flair, the mech would launch them in a nearly unpredictable pattern. After the first two times of nearly getting his arm dislocated, Prowl began catching onto these moments and moved his momentum in sync with Jazz.

They'd started dancing.

The Tactician had an iron fisted focus on matching Jazz’s frankly eradicate lead. The longer the duet continued, the more data he had to work with. Prowl steadily progressed from Reacting to Anticipating. Feeling a core deep satisfaction that came from sinking into mastering a new skill.

By the time they’d escaped the bombers range, they’d made it too the base of the first hurdle.

Their reprieve would only be brief. The bombers would catch up in approximately 50 clicks (88%), giving the mechs a small window of precious semi-safety in which they needed to scale the wall before them.

Prowl craned his helm back at the barrier.

He would not be able to scale it on his own in time (95%).

Could Jazz? (65%)

While carrying him? (19%)

Jazz rapidly tapped his side.

The alien was crouched low, impossible legs bent with potential energy. He tapped his own back, gesturing for Prowl to grab on already.

Prowl threw himself over the mechs broad back. His digits frantically searched for a hand hold, flinching away from nearly digging into fragile vents.

I can’t-

Jazz leapt.

“You’re really grab-able - Isn’t that kinda stupid?”

Stupid stupid stupid.

Prowl skated off of Jazz’s rounded compact plating, that he specifically SAID was supposed to make him hard to hold on to.

He landed hard on his aft, denta clanking together painfully.

47 clicks remaining.

Jazz hit the ground beside him before Prowl had fully gotten back up. Now facing him, Jazz grabbed Prowl by both wrists and pulled him chassis to chassis. Jazz positioned his arms to link Prowls servos behind his helm, then set his own servos tightly onto Prowls waist.

Jazz nodded once, like he was satisfied with what he’d just done.

Prowl made a facial expression that a psychiatrist would find concerning.

42 Clicks.

Jazz nodded again, like expected Prowl to respond in any coherent manner, and lifted.

Prowls legs swung forward on instinct. Following the motion, Jazz wrapped them around his waist. Through the screaming haze of his processor, Prowl had the presence of mind to lock his ankles together as he realized Jazz’s true intentions, and manually aborted the logic cascade that had nearly crashed over him.

Package secured, Jazz let go and started their ascension.

Legs bent at an impossible angle to slam multi segmented peds flat against the metal walls. Despite Prowl’s body blocking most of his view, the alien mech was unfettered by the lack of vision. Jazz hardly bothered with proper hand holds, instead opting for incredibly strong magnetic grip built into his servos.

The magnetic backwash splashed over Prowls doors wings, forcing him to temporarily offline them or risk crippling vertigo. The structure they were scaling shook violently like something large had just irrevocably broken.

This is fine this is fine this is fine this is fine.

At 35 click’s remaining, Prowl centered himself enough to search for their pursuers.

Damn it!

The bombers were a fraction faster than he initially calculated. Six clicks before we’re in range (87%). Luckily, Jazz was more than a fraction faster than initially calculated as well. At this rate, they’d reach the top simultaneously.

No reason not to be proactive.

Prowl found that if he tightly cupped one servo around the back of Jazz’s helm, he had just enough leverage to bring out a side arm. After all, the bombers were already in range of him.

Steadying his elbow over the other mechs shoulder, Prowl took aim.

Five clicks.

The bombers flew in V formation.

Four clicks.

Too heavily armored for a standard sidearm to pierce.

Three clicks.

The lead bomber opened up its front in preparation for combat.

Got you.

Prowl threaded the gap, his shot skirting over the ballista in favor of impacting the bombers prodigious cargo. He watched something spark inside a split second before it succumbed to total annihilation.

The shockwave felt like a single soft papft of a breeze in the starlit air.

Jazz hefted them over the top of the wall, not dropping Prowl in favor of sprinting with him at full speed across the top of the hurdle.

One of his arms curled around to support Prowls back, allowing the Praxian to release his death grip on their helm. Prowl leaned back into the hold, allowing Jazz freedom to see again.

Jazz turned his helm around 180 degrees-

Did not know he could do that did not know he could do that.

- to look at the fire works behind them.

Jazz whistled appreciatively at the sight. He turned back to Prowl, visor locked onto his face as they carried him across the roof.

Reverberating music, nearly crashing, numbed doorwings, and a deeply satisfying kill all followed by a display of casual body horror was making Prowl just a little bit delirious. As a result, Prowl wasn’t entirely sure what expression he was making, just that Jazz was inordinately fascinated with it.

Without looking away, Jazz leapt off the end of the roof.

Prowl watched as Jazz glanced over his shoulder and back to him.

Do a double take.

And then crush Prowl to his chassis.

Jazz’s visor was over bright, both horns snapped completely forward and from somewhere inside his chassis, Prowl could feel some internal component spinning into overdrive, sounding for all the world like teeny tiny screaming.

Why are we still falling.

Prowl turned as far as possible in Jazz’s iron grip.

The sky bridge was collapsing.

Odds of Survival 4%

———————————————————————

Jazz, everytime Prowl one-shots an enemy: I need to get his number.

If you’re curious, the song Jazz is playing can be whatever you like. Personally I kept switching between listening to “I Was Made For Lovin’ You” by Kiss and “I Feel Love” 12” version by Donna Summer while writing.

- SSTP

OH GOD AHAHJFKFK THIS IS SO FUCKING GREAT HELP

And the concept of music playing between them??? I'm s o l d. "I was made for lovin' you baby" is basically JP OST for me at this point ehehhmgmgm

Jazz: Hookay I need to transport the machinery from the point A to point B. Focus! Let's go!

Prowl: One of those tiktok videos where you can see some Reddit post and hear AI narrating it while Minecraft parkour is playing on the background. Except it's gay panic instead of reddit post and internal screaming instead of narration and even more gay panic instead of minecraft. ......and everything is overheating probably lmao

Also can you really call it a JP fic if their odds of survival never dropped lower than 10% according to Prowls brain? Ahahjgkgk all amazing JP fics have to do this. It's inevitable and I love it so much~~

[toshisdecadence]

ERROR 404: Overload!

PAIRING: svarog x mechanic!fem reader

TAGS & WARNINGS: dark content, dubcon (reader says it’s too much but svarog has a mission to collect data), rough sex, multiple rounds, dom!svarog, sub!fem reader, svarog is Massive, cervix mentions, tummy bulge descriptions, multiple rounds, overstimulation, size difference, power dynamics, size kink, fingering, unrealistic sex, robot fuckers unite!, can you tell i have a size kink?

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

SUMMARY: You discover the reason why Svarog wears pants.

© toshisdecadence

The repair bay smelled faintly of heated metal, coolant fluid, and faint traces of alcohol—a sharp tang that clung to the sterile air. You barely noticed it anymore, accustomed to the hum of machinery and the faint vibration of tools against metal. But today, that hum was louder, and the vibrations sharper, emanating not from your usual repair work but from the massive, battle-worn war machine sitting across from you.

Svarog loomed over the room, his 8’11 frame too large for the reinforced chair you’d hastily reinforced when he arrived. His joints hissed faintly, micro-servos struggling to compensate for the damage he’d sustained during the Wardance duel against Luka earlier that day. Faint dents marred his reinforced dark blue chest plating, and faint sparks sputtered from the exposed wiring along his arm.

You reached for your tools, hyper-aware of the pinkish-red glow of his cyclopean optical sensor tracking your every movement.

“Superficial damage sustained. Functionality remains above 90%. Repairs are non-essential.” His voice rumbled, a deep, mechanical timbre that sent a shiver up your spine.

You regarded him critically. “Non-essential? Your vents are overheating, and you’re rattling like a dying starship. Sit still and let me work.”

He didn’t argue. Svarog was nothing if not logical, and logic dictated that he allow himself to be repaired. Still, there was a tension to him, a stiffness beyond the rigid design of his armor. He didn’t like being examined, didn’t like lowering his guard to anyone else other than Clara, even in the hands of someone who statistically meant him no harm or stood a chance against him.

You stepped closer, tools in hand, and gently pressed against the plating on his shoulder. His frame vibrated under your touch, a subtle hum you might have missed if you hadn’t been so close.

“Core temperature stable,” he intoned. “Subsystems fully operational.”

“Your fans tell a different story,” you muttered, running diagnostics through a handheld scanner. “You’re burning hotter than you should be.”

Svarog didn’t respond right away, but you could feel his pinkish-red optic watching your hands as they worked, tracking each movement with the precision of an apex predator. The thought sent an odd warmth through your body, and you tried to shake it off. 

You needed to focus.

The repairs took you lower, inspecting the dents along his torso plating. The main brunt of the damage he took from Luka’s mechanical arm focused around his torso. One of the seams had split, exposing a layer of reinforced polymer beneath the outer shell. Carefully, you reached for the damaged panel, fingers brushing against the edge of the pants covering his lower half—an unusual addition for a machine built for combat, and one that always raised questions in your mind.

You tugged lightly at the material, intending only to check the joints underneath, but your fingers brushed against something unexpected beneath the fabric.

Your breath hitched.

The surface wasn’t the cold hardness of metal or the pliable texture of synthetic padding. It was smooth, warm, and distinctly… organic in shape.

You froze, pulling your hand back as though burned.

His optic dimmed slightly in a flicker that you’d come to recognize as his equivalent of a blink.

You swallowed down the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, gesturing vaguely at his lower half, struggling to form the words.

Svarog tilted his head, the motion eerily human. “This component was included in my original design for biological infiltration protocols.”

You stared at him as if he grew a second head. “Biological… infiltration?”

“My model is the third series of the Monitoring Automaton Prototype, engineered to simulate human anatomy. The purpose was strategic manipulation through intimate interactions if required by mission parameters.”

Your throat felt dryer, and the question that left your mouth sounded ridiculous even to you. “You’re telling me someone thought it’d be a good idea to put a dick on a war machine?”

“Affirmative.”

His voice remained perfectly calm, but your face was burning. A sneaky glance at his lower half rendered you speechless once again. Whoever designed Svarog certainly made his… appendage proportional to his hulking body.

You tried to laugh it off, but the sound came out strained. “And… what? You’ve just been...” You made an awkward gesture with your hand, “carrying it around this whole time?”

“Correct. The feature has never been activated.”

He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world, and somehow that made it worse.

You stared at him in disbelief. “Do you even know how it works?”

Svarog paused, the glow of his optic focusing intently on you. It flickered momentarily.

“My systems include theoretical data on function and compatibility. However, no practical demonstrations have been performed.”

The room felt hotter suddenly, and you were certain that it wasn’t because of Svarog’s malfunctioning fans. Your mind raced with countless possibilities. Given Svarog’s size, you weren’t even sure how anyone was supposed to take that. Did it have a shrinking feature? Did it automatically adjust with Svarog’s… partner? 

You swallowed, trying to steer the conversation back to something technical and banish the questions swirling in your head.

“Right,” you muttered, clearing your throat. “Well, let’s make sure you don’t explode first. Then we’ll worry about your…” Your traitorous gaze flickered down again, swallowing, “attachments.”

You regretted the words the second they left your mouth. Svarog’s optic dimmed again, and he shifted in his seat with a faint creak of metal.

“Acknowledged.”

You groaned internally and forced yourself to focus, pulling open the next panel and reaching in to check his sensor nodes. But you couldn’t help the way your mind kept wandering—to the warm, flexible material hidden underneath that fabric. Whoever invented Svarog’s model was an absolute pervert and lunatic, you thought to yourself. A war machine equipped with a dick? You still could not wrap your head around it. To the way Svarog had described it so matter-of-factly, like it was just another tool in his arsenal.

And yet… the tension in his frame, the way his systems overcompensated whenever you touched him, those weren’t reactions you’d expect from a simple machine.

Your hands hovered above the exposed sensor nodes, still adjusting the connections, but your thoughts were no longer entirely focused on the task at hand.

It was impossible to ignore the strange electric tension in the air between you and Svarog. Every time your fingers brushed against his cooling panels or adjusted a wiring interface, you felt it—the subtle hum of his systems, almost like a heartbeat. Or maybe it was just the increasing proximity to his form, which felt more real with every touch, even if you knew he wasn’t alive in the traditional sense.

The heat beneath his outer plating felt too organic, too alive. The warmth spread further with each subtle shift of his hulking frame as you adjusted his internals, a mechanical symphony of soft clicks and hums that made your breath catch in your throat.

This was nothing like the Intellitrons.

You had worked with hundreds to thousands of them over the years, and each time it had been the same routine: simple diagnostics, quick fixes, nothing too complicated. They were built for efficiency, cold efficiency. Their systems were bare-bones, nothing more than a body of metal and circuits with only the basic instincts to follow commands.

But Svarog…

He was different. Complex. His systems, his body—everything about him screamed intricacy and human-like design. A part of you resigned yourself to further look into Svarog’s specific model. Perhaps it was time to take a deeper look into Belobogian technology. Even the way Svarog’s body responded to your touch felt foreign. He was more than just a machine, wasn’t he? He wasn’t just a war machine, a combat tool; there was something underneath, something untapped, a feature of his yet to be understood.

And that thought… that burning curiosity clawed at you.

You’d always prided yourself on being a mechanic. You understood machines, systems, the cold logic of how things worked. But Svarog wasn’t cold. Wasn’t simple. The way his body responded to your movements, the imperceptible shifts in his temperature, the faint, almost unnoticeable changes in his posture whenever your fingers brushed too close to certain sensitive spots—all of it made you wonder.

What if I pushed him further?

A thought you could barely even process, but it lingered, stubborn. The daring curiosity that ran deep within you as a mechanic—was this not what you lived for? To understand the unknown, to push the limits of what could be fixed, adjusted, modified? Svarog’s design wasn’t just mechanical, it felt like a puzzle you couldn’t quite solve, like a language you only understood in fragments.

Your hands moved to reconnect a set of wires, but you barely felt the tools in your grip. The warmth from his frame was distracting, constantly pulling your focus away from the task at hand.

You set your tools down with a sharp click, exhaling as you leaned back from Svarog’s towering frame. The repairs were done. Functionally complete. His damaged plating had been reinforced, circuits reconnected, and his sensor nodes recalibrated. Everything checked out.

Or at least, it should have felt finished.

But you lingered.

Your gaze swept over him again, tracing the seams of his armor and the smooth lines of his construction. Svarog wasn’t like the Intellitrons. His design was deliberate. Every joint, every harsh angle of his frame, was crafted with an almost human elegance that made your brain stutter every time you tried to compare him to standard machinery. Even the sections hidden beneath his plating—the ones you briefly glimpsed while making repairs—were unnervingly realistic in their precision.

And then there were the features he’d kept covered.

You dragged your gaze back to his waist, to the reinforced plating that remained stubbornly intact throughout the repairs. That section.

You hadn’t needed to touch it, hadn’t even dared to ask about it again, but the shape and positioning had made it impossible not to notice. That, combined with the suspicious necessity of his pants, had left your mind spiraling with questions you couldn’t shake.

Why go to such lengths to simulate humanity in that area?

You knew you shouldn’t care. You were a mechanic. Curiosity was natural. It came with the job. But no matter how many times you tried to frame it as a purely technical interest, your pulse told you otherwise.

It wasn’t just simple curiosity. It was a fixation.

You reached out, under the pretense of double-checking one of his sensor-nodes, but your fingers hesitated. You could feel the faint hum of his systems through the plating, steady and constant, and for reasons you didn’t want to unpack, it made the room feel smaller, like the two of you were occupying too much space at once.

“You are hesitating,” Svarog declared suddenly, his mechanical voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

You froze, pulling your hand back like you’d been caught committing a crime. “No, I was just making sure everything’s—”

“False,” he interrupted. His optic seemed red as it regarded you. “Your behavior has deviated from standard patterns. Focus is inconsistent. Eye movement suggests distraction.”

You swallowed hard, heat rushing to your face. Svarog wasn’t wrong, and worse, he wasn’t letting it go.

“Your gaze has returned to my lower half multiple times,” he continued, his tone as flat as ever. “Body temperature elevated by 15.3 percent. Heart rate increased. These patterns suggest heightened interest.”

You felt your stomach flip as he laid out your reactions like cold, hard data. And yet, his voice was so mechanical, so calm and detached, that it made the weight of your embarrassment feel even heavier.

“I can conclude the source of your distraction,” Svarog added. “You are exhibiting curiosity regarding the anatomical structure concealed beneath my armor.”

You didn’t know whether to flat out deny it or run out of the room entirely. Neither option felt viable. At least, not with him towering over you like that, unflinching, his glowing optics locked onto your every move.

“I—no, it’s not like that,” you stammered, even though you knew it was exactly like that.

“Your biological responses contradict your statement,” he said simply. “You are aware of the human-like components integrated into my design. Your fixation suggests a desire to understand their functionality.”

Your breath hitched. The words functionality and components should have grounded you. It should have made this situation feel as clinical as he seemed to think it was. But instead, they only fueled the heat already curling in your stomach.

Because Svarog was right.

You wanted to know—aeons, you’ve been dying to know—how far his human design extended. And now that the repairs were done, now that he’d laid the truth bare, it felt impossible to stop.

“You are not the first to display interest in this feature,” Svarog continued, as though he were listing out schematics. “However, prior inquiries did not progress past verbal questioning. You are demonstrating physical tension indicative of deeper investigation.”

Your throat felt dryer than the desert.

“I propose a solution,” Svarog said, tilting his head slightly. “Controlled exploration. Further data on synthetic anatomy is limited. Your curiosity provides an opportunity for analysis and documentation.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. He wasn’t joking. He couldn’t joke.

“You are suggesting we… test this?”

“Correct.”

His lack of hesitation made your pulse stutter. He saw this as a logical step, nothing more than a means to gather data, and yet, the way his frame loomed over you, the hum of his systems almost vibrating through the air, felt anything but detached.

“Decision required,” Svarog said after a beat. “Proceed with testing, or terminate this interaction?”

Your body betrayed you before your mind could catch up.

“Proceed,” you said softly.

His optics flared slightly—almost imperceptibly—before he nodded.

“Acknowledged. Experiment initiated.”

Svarog wasn’t designed to rush.

He worked methodically, his plated fingers tracing along your thighs—testing, measuring, pressing into the soft flesh as though assessing the tensile strength of your muscles. Assessing how much you could take.

“Body temperature elevated by 1.8 degrees,” he noted, his optics narrowing slightly. “Pulse irregular. Predictive analysis suggests heightened arousal.”

You whimpered as his thick mechanical fingers dipped lower, sliding between your legs without hesitation. He brushed against your heat, deliberately testing the slickness already building there.

“Lubrication present,” he said. “Preliminary preparation observed. Additional stimulation required.”

You barely had any time to register his words before his thumb pressed against your clit. The motion was slow, deliberate, grinding down just enough to make your thighs tremble.

Too much.

The smoothness of his plating, the slight hum of his servos adjusting with every movement, left you aching almost instantly. He applied more pressure, adjusting the angle like he was calibrating the motion for maximum effect.

You gasped, hips jerking against him instinctively, and Svarog’s optics dimmed.

“Response strength at 63 percent,” he observed. “Testing deeper penetration.”

You bit back a cry as his fingers slipped inside. Thick, unyielding, and cool against your heat. He stretched you slowly, adding another finger almost immediately, pushing past the tight resistance with clinical focus.

“Muscle tension detected,” he said, his thumb circling the erect pearl of your clit again as his fingers curled inside of you. “Adjusting pressure.”

You whimpered as he spread his fingers, stretching you wider until the ache blurred into something hotter, sharper.

“Elasticity improving,” he noted, tilting his head as he pressed deeper. “Lubrication increased by 24 percent.”

You clenched around him, your gummy walls struggling to accommodate the deliberate stretch, and Svarog’s optics flickered.

“Resistance still measurable,” he said, slowing his movements. “Further preparation required.”

Your head was spinning by the time he added a third finger, the burn almost too much, but Svarog didn’t falter. His fingers moved with precise rhythm, pumping and curling until the tension broke, and your body melted around him.

Svarog’s mechanical fingers lingered inside you, coated in slickness as he worked them deeper—pressing, stretching, curling with deliberate precision. His thumb dragged slow, circular patterns over your clit, the rhythm steady enough to make your hips jolt against him in a helpless, uncontrollable reaction.

“Muscle tension improving,” he observed. “Current dilation at 73 percent. Additional preparation recommended.”

His tone was calm, detached, but the way his optics dimmed as he watched your thighs trembling betrayed something deeper. He pressed in further, adding another finger. Thicker. Unyielding. Enough to force a sharp gasp to tumble out of your throat.

The burn was too much and not enough all at once, your body clenching down against the stretch even as your legs fell further apart under his firm grip.

You could feel yourself dripping, already struggling to take his fingers, but Svarog didn’t falter. He spread them wider, deliberately testing your limits, and the ache left you clawing at his arm, nails scraping helplessly against smooth plating.

“Elasticity increased by 18 percent,” he said, pulling his fingers free with a lewd, wet squelch that made your breath hitch and your cheeks burn. He inspected the slick coating his fingers before tilting his head slightly. “Sufficient for insertion.”

You barely had time to catch your breath before you heard the sound of fabric rustling. Your eyes widened as he was lining up, the thick, mechanical weight of his massive cock pressing against your sopping entrance and making your stomach twist with a sharp mix of anticipation and fear. His cock contrasted the rest of his metallic body, covered by a synthetic material that seemed to emulate the sensation of skin.

“Size differential detected,” Svarog noted, palming your thigh to angle your hips upward. “Accommodating size will result in initial resistance.”

You bit back a cry as he pushed forward, the broad, blunted tip spreading you open with agonizing slowness. The pain is sharp, your walls pulsing and struggling to accommodate him even after the preparation.

Too big.

The words barely formed in your mind before the pressure stole the thought away entirely. You gasped sharply, arching as he forced himself deeper, the stretch too much—burning, tearing, making your legs shake uncontrollably.

Svarog’s grip on your hips tightened as he paused, allowing you a brief moment of reprieve to adjust, but as his optics flickered, scanning the trembling of your muscles and the fluttering of your gummy walls around him.

“Pain response detected. Estimating threshold at 62 percent.”

You cried out as his hands tilted your hips. You were barely able to breathe as he pressed further, the new angle forcing him deeper into your cunt, and your stomach twisted as you felt it. His cock bullied its way in, the meaty girth of his shaft forcing you wider and wider until you swore you could feel it pressing against everything, imprinting his shape inside of you.

Too much. Too deep.

Tears welled in your eyes as your body struggled to take him, your hands scrabbling against his frame, fingers digging uselessly into unmoving steel.

Svarog’s hand pressed against your stomach, his thumb grazing the prominent bulge already forming there.

“Internal displacement observed,” he said, pushing down slightly to feel the way his massive cock shifted inside of you. The sensation earned a quiver of your legs, the pressure in between your legs rendering you unable to utter a coherent sentence. “Pressure response increasing. Adapting angle.”

Your head fell back with a guttural cry as he adjusted, pressing even deeper, his thumb brushing over the bulge experimentally while he thrust deeper, the bulge in your stomach shifting with him. It felt like the wind was knocked out of your lungs. Your lips fell open in a silent cry, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your body clenched down hard, pulsing and fluttering, struggling against the size, and Svarog stilled.

“Involuntary constriction detected,” he said, his optics dimming slightly.

His free hand reached up, spreading your thighs wider, and he began to move.

Slow, deliberate thrusts that forced you to feel every excruciating inch of him.

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

All you could do was feel—the stretch, the ache, the grinding pressure of him bottoming out inside you again and again and again. The bulge in your stomach shifted with every thrust, a visible reminder of just how deep he was, how much he was filling you.

Svarog’s optics glowed faintly as he observed you, his gaze calculating and unwavering as your body trembled beneath him. Each shallow breath you took, each gasp for air as his cock pressed deeper, he noted, analyzing the involuntary way your body gripped him, how your muscles fluttered around him with every thrust.

“Heart rate accelerating. Muscular tension increasing. Increased stimulation evident.”

He could see the way your body reacted. How your hands clenched, how your thighs shook, how the bulge in your stomach shifted with each deep push, marking the extent to which he had filled you. He watched the way your chest heaved, the way your pupils dilated with every inch of him that stretched you wider, deeper, further than you ever thought possible.

You were on the brink of breaking, the tension in your body growing unbearable as your mouth opened in a silent scream, unable to keep up with the onslaught of sensations. Your body, desperate for more and yet unable to fully handle what was happening, was his to command, and he couldn’t help but watch in quiet fascination as you succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure.

You were becoming dumber. So much of you just couldn’t function anymore. You were speechless, unable to utter a coherent sentence, broken down by the intensity of his cock fucking its way into you, and the way you melted against him was nothing short of fascinating. Your voice was lost to you, your thoughts clouded by raw sensation, but the pleasure you felt was clear. It was painted across every quiver of your body, the sheen of beaded sweat lining your face and neck, in the strained arch of your back, the desperate shuddering of your limbs.

He could hear the soft whimpering sounds, could see the way your face twisted with both pain and pleasure, and his own systems hummed with the data flooding his internal logs. Every reaction of yours was so genuine, so untouched by reason. It was an anomaly he had never experienced.

Svarog’s mechanical frame moved with precision, his movements controlled and deliberate. His systems hummed as he observed you, his optics tracking every microexpression, every shuddering breath as you struggled to adjust to the overwhelming size that filled you.

He didn’t feel pleasure. He didn’t need it, not the way you did. But the reactions you were giving him—the way your body trembled, the way your walls spasmed around him—were intriguing, data points he had yet to fully understand.

“Subject’s body reacting to size discrepancy. Estimated stretch threshold surpassed.”

Your hands were clutching at him, your fingers slipping over his cool metal plating, desperately trying to find purchase. Your tight walls clung to him as though your body was doing everything it could to resist the sensation, even though it was now obvious that you couldn’t fight it. Your body was becoming swallowed by him, opening wide to accommodate what it was never meant to handle.

Svarog’s movement’s never faltered, his thrusts measured and precise, studying you as your body began to react involuntarily. Your walls spasmed around him, tighter and tighter, almost as though your body was trying to pull him deeper despite the overwhelming stretch.

“Subject’s body is exhibiting signs of imminent climax. Response timing has been measured.”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore. Your entire body stiffed, an involuntary shudder running through you as every nerve seemed to light up at once. Your vision blurred, the sounds of your ragged breathing filling your ears, mixing with the overwhelming sensation of being stretched beyond belief. Your walls contracted and released rapidly, the pressure inside you finally exploding, and you cried out his name, the world barely a whisper between gasps.

The release sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and Svarog could see it. How your body trembled, how your legs locked around his waist, pulling him even deeper—if that was even possible. You were speechless, your mind blank as your body convulsed in ecstasy, your insides gripping him with a tightness that was almost painful.

“Subject has achieved climax. Response exceeds expectations.”

Your breaths came in desperate, uncoordinated gasps as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, and your body was left quivering, unable to do anything but absorb the aftershocks of your mind-numbing release. Your thighs quivered, feeling your cum trickling down your skin, staining his metal plating.

Svarog, ever the observer, did not stop. He noted the way your body reacted to each of his thrusts, the way your tummy bulged with each movement, the way your warm walls clamped down involuntarily as you tried to regain control of your senses.

Despite the fact that Svarog himself could not feel pleasure, there was something undeniably fascinating about the way you came undone beneath him, your body fighting for control even as it surrendered entirely to him.

He continued moving inside you, his mechanical precision relentless, watching as you flinched with each motion, your body too sensitive now to handle it. Your hands, still pawing weakly at his arms, combined with your whimpered protests of it being too much, were growing weaker, and the sensations were too much for you to bear, but still, he kept going—his own curiosity driving him. He wanted to see how much more you could take, how much more your body could endure before it reached its limit.

You were still trembling, still catching your breath, your mind scattered and lost in the aftereffects of your climax. He could see your skin shimmering with sweat, your breasts rising and falling, the way your hips thrusted up to meet his even though you were lost in the throes of overstimulation.

“Subject remains responsive despite signs of fatigue,” he observed. “Data indicates further analysis needed.”

You were so tight, so overstimulated, and yet your body responded again as though it couldn’t stop itself. Another surge of pleasure crashed through you, pulling another, more broken moan from your lips. It was overwhelming, too much, but your body needed it, responding in ways that only deepened his analysis of the situation.

Svarog’s focus didn’t waver. He watched as your body shook with every movement, your legs quivering with the strain of accommodating him, and still, he continued, his thrusts growing deeper, more relentless. His fingers dug into your hips, hard enough to leave litters of bruises that resembled the shade of his metal plating, holding you in place, using your body as a tool for his data collection.

He could see the way you reacted to the sensations, your face contorting in a combination of pain and pleasure, your eyes wide and unfocused, the way your mouth parted as though you couldn’t form any coherent words. Your body had become nothing but a series of responses, unable to control the way you moved or how you moaned, each sound increasing in volume and intensity as he continued to jackhammer into you.

Your stomach bulged from the pressure, each thrust deepening the curve, showing just how much of him you were struggling to take. Your body was so small, so delicate compared to his design—a machine of war—and yet it was somehow adjusting, somehow taking him all the way in, and with each inch he could see your entire body shift, your muscles trembling, walls contracting and clenching around him.

Svarog observed with detachment, but a small part of him couldn’t ignore how your body seemed to respond, how the very tightness of your searingly hot walls seemed to tug at him, pull him deeper as though it wanted to trap him there—needed him to stay there. The way you trembled beneath him, struggling to remain grounded as your body was filled with something so vast compared to your form. He noted how your skin glistened, how you arch your back, trying to take more of him, trying your damned best to accommodate his size.

Svarog noted how you were losing coherence, your once-clear expression now a mess of uncontrollable need, your eyes glazing over as you gave in to the rhythm he set. He couldn’t deny the way your body seemed to yearn for more, even as you struggled with the sheer size of him.

The final stretch was the worst for you, and the best for him—he felt your body grip him, squeezing him impossibly tight as he buried himself to the hilt. This earned a strained sob from your lips. Your stomach bulged more than ever before, a visual testament to just how much of him you had taken, how far he had pushed you. He could see your body tremble, your limbs shaking, your quivering lips gasping for breath.

Yet, even as your body was on the edge, unraveling beneath him, Svarog did not stop. The data was still incomplete. He needed more. He needed to see how much you could endure, how much pleasure your body could take from the sheer act of him pounding into you.

And so, he continued, calculating the rhythms, watching as you came again with a scream of his name, your body seizing, the loud moan that escaped your lips barely audible over the overwhelming noise in your head. It was the most raw, vulnerable he had ever seen you—or any human—and it only fascinated him more.

With another deep thrust, you shuddered, and this time, Svarog could see your body collapse against the surface beneath you, completely undone. You were breathless, barely coherent, your limbs shaking as the final waves of pleasure raked through your senses.

Svarog paused, his cool hands steadying your trembling body, allowing you to come down from the dizzying high. He could continue for as long as he wanted, but your body was too spent for further testing. He could still see the evidence of your come, dripping down in translucent milky strings to the surface beneath you, painting your inner thighs. Svarog decided that this must be what humans described as “beautiful.”

“Conclusion: Subject’s tolerance to size discrepancy has surpassed previous estimates. Data collection complete.”

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How to Read a Scientific Article

THE THREE-PASS APPROACH

The key idea is that you should read the paper in up to 3 passes, instead of starting at the beginning and plowing your way to the end.

Each pass accomplishes specific goals and builds upon the previous pass:

The first pass gives you a general idea about the paper.

The second pass lets you grasp the paper’s content, but not its details.

The third pass helps you understand the paper in depth.

At the end of the first pass, you should be able to answer the 5 Cs:

Category: What type of paper is this? A measurement paper? An analysis of an existing system? A description of a research prototype?

Context: Which other papers is it related to? Which theoretical bases were used to analyze the problem?

Correctness: Do the assumptions appear to be valid?

Contributions: What are the paper’s main contributions?

Clarity: Is the paper well written?

Purpose of the Sections of Empirical Articles

Section — Use it for

Abstract — This is a great section to read to find out if the article will be relevant to your own research.

Introduction — This section gives you an overview of work that has been done on topics relating to the hypothesis of the article, and will often lead you to other relevant work that has been done in your area of interest.

Method — This section will help you understand the design of the experiment. This is particularly useful if you'd like to replicate the study.

Results — The results will tell you what the author/s found in the course of their experiment.

Discussion — The discussion section is typically easier to read than the method and results section, and it will help the reader understand the implications of the results of the experiment.

References — This is a great place to look to find articles that are related to the one you are reading. If you're looking to build your own literature review, the references are a great place to start.

The Anatomy of a Scientific Paper

Some initial guidelines for how to read a paper:

Read critically: Reading a research paper must be a critical process. You should not assume that the authors are always correct. Instead, be suspicious. Critical reading involves asking appropriate questions.

Read creatively: Reading a paper critically is easy, in that it is always easier to tear something down than to build it up. Reading creatively involves harder, more positive thinking.

Make notes as you read the paper. Use whatever style you prefer. If you have questions or criticisms, write them down so you do not forget them. Underline key points the authors make. Mark the data that is most important or that appears questionable. Such efforts help the first time you read a paper and pay big dividends when you have to re-read a paper after several months.

After the first read-through, try to summarize the paper in one or two sentence.

If possible, compare the paper to other works.

Write a review that includes:

a one or two sentence summary of the paper.

a deeper, more extensive outline of the main points of the paper, including for example assumptions made, arguments presented, data analyzed, and conclusions drawn.

any limitations or extensions you see for the ideas in the paper.

your opinion of the paper; primarily, the quality of the ideas and its potential impact.

The guide below details how to read a scientific article step-by-step.

First, you should not approach a scientific article like a textbook— reading from beginning to end of the chapter or book without pause for reflection or criticism. Additionally, it is highly recommended that you highlight and take notes as you move through the article.

Skim the article. This should only take you a few minutes. You are not trying to comprehend the entire article at this point, but just get a basic overview. You don’t have to read in order; the discussion/conclusions will help you to determine if the article is relevant to your research. You might then continue on to the Introduction. Pay attention to the structure of the article, headings, and figures.

Grasp the vocabulary. Begin to go through the article and highlight words and phrases you do not understand. Some words or phrases you may be able to get an understanding from the context in which it is used, but for others you may need the assistance of a medical or scientific dictionary. Subject-specific dictionaries available through our Library databases and online are listed below.

Identify the structure of the article and work on your comprehension. Most journals use an IMRD structure: An abstract followed by Introduction, Methods, Results, and Discussion. These sections typically contain conventional features, which you will start to recognize. If you learn to look for these features you will begin to read and comprehend the article more quickly.

 Read the bibliography/references section. Reading the references or works cited may lead you to other useful resources. You might also get a better understanding of the basic terminology, main concepts, major researchers, and basic terminology in the area you are researching.

Reflect on what you have read and draw your own conclusions. As you are reading jot down any questions that come to mind. They may be answered later on in the article or you may have stumbled upon something that the authors did not consider. Here are some examples of questions you may ask yourself as you read:

 Have I taken time to understand all the terminology?

Am I spending too much time on the less important parts of this article?

Do I have any reason to question the credibility of this research?

What specific problem does the research address and why is it important?

How do these results relate to my research interests or to other works which I have read?

6. Read the article a second time in chronological order. Reading the article a second time will reinforce your overall understanding. You may even start to make connections to other articles that you have read on this topic.

Identify Key Information

Whether you are looking for information that supports the hypothesis in your own paper or carefully analyzing the article and critiquing the research methods or findings, there are important questions that you should answer as you read the article.

What is the main hypothesis?

Why is this research important?

Did the researchers use appropriate measurements and procedures?

What were the variables in the study?

What was the key finding of the research?

Do the findings justify the author’s conclusions?

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[quicksilversnails]

Took some notes from the Wild Life retrospective episode of the Imp & Skizz podcast featuring Grian because I thought the behind the scenes info was really interesting!

(3:15) The wild cards were all kept totally secret from the players (apart from Grian), with the exception of the superpowers and finale (as they required the players to set keybinds)

(3:45) The players were given files containing the required mods each week, which were named things like "creeper rain" to throw them off

(4:12) Wild cards were a combination of data packs and mods

(4:38) Grian told them not to read the folder name to avoid spoilers (which is kind of impossible), so everyone fully believed there would be creeper rain lol. Grian was saying it in jest but everyone took it seriously and were apologetic about having seen it, to which Grian told them not to worry

(6:58) Grian originally contacted a data pack dev called Brace for help with programming the wild cards. Some, like the shrinking/growing could be achieved with minecraft attributes, but the snails were too janky and unusable. Grian still liked the idea though, so he reached out to mod developers Henkelmax and Breadloaf, who designed the pathfinding/behaviour from scratch

(8:49) They had a debugging mode used to test the pathfinding of the snails, shown in the podcast and in Grian's credits

(10:09) Grian wants most of the credit to go to the development team and artists, as he was mostly in charge of ideas & organization!

(10:39) Grian's only regret with the snails was that they were too fast in session 3, leading to unexpectedly many deaths. They were apparently not so difficult to get away from during testing, but perhaps the testers were more used to them than the players were

(11:44) Grian: "We did develop to the lowest common denominator" ie. prioritizing how players would struggle over how worrying about if players would do too well

(12:56) Oli's voice for the snails was iconic. It cost Impulse a life because he intentionally stayed closer to it to hear the voice lol

(13:42) Danny was in charge of the snail models and animations

(14:11) During testing, the snails just sounded like Oli, which made it feel weird. They pitched up his voice so that it'd be less immediately recognizable

(15:18) The snails' jumping attack was meant to be clearly telegraphed: they would stop, wiggle, make a "ooeee" sound before jumping. Many players had their friendly creatures volume turned very low/off (as cows and other mobs are loud), which made this attack much less obvious for them

(16:57) The growing/shrinking had the least testing done for it, as it was the simplest conceptually and to program. This meant that the falling off of blocks due to the shrinking hitboxes wasn't anticipated

(17:55) Before the 1st session, Grian told them that he didn't think anyone would die to the wild card. Pearl's death made Grian pretty nervous, as he didn't want everyone dying too early in the season

(19:29) 6 lives were given, knowing that many of the death to the wild cards were unexpected/unfair. The intent was for ~3 lives to be allocated for wild cards, and ~3 for PvP.

(21:13) The developers were all fans of the Life Series!

(22:43) The shrinking/growing was intentionally pretty simple to ease players/viewers into the concept and build up toward more dramatic wild cards like the snails

(25:38) In the hunger episode, Grian didn't know which foods would be good

(25:58) Grian thinks that "it's unfair that Grian already knows everything" is valid criticism, but that it's important for him to be involved with the ideas. Having someone else do that is like having someone else record his videos: Life Series is his brainchild

(26:35) Well before the season began, while they were still developing the concept, Grian asked the other players for wild card ideas that would meet a few criteria. All of them ended up being unused for one reason or another. Impulse thinks his ideas were very "inside the box" because he was viewing things through what was possible in vanilla Minecraft. His idea was to have a scavenger hunt where the players would search to find a relic. The first person to find it would get a buff. Skizz's idea was for every player to turn into a random passive mob for every given interval of time. They would have to find every other player of the same mob type as them or else the whole group loses a life.

(29:44) The food qualities were weighted by the rarity of the item, so very common blocks like dirt and cobblestone would never give anything good. The other items were randomly selected

(30:23) Regular blocks/items cannot be made edible normally, so they had to circumvent that and custom code a fix for items not stacking correctly

(32:41) While a lot of players do want to win, the main priority is creating entertainment, which prioritizes playing recklessly

(33:20) The food wild card wasn't included in the finale because it would've felt like "too much". There was a higher risk of technical issues since it changed the data values of items, and Grian didn't want someone's last death to be because they ate their sword. In his mind, it was a good and fun wild card, but didn't need to be repeated in the finale. Impulse points out that they all would have collected more rare items by that point, removing the incentive to search for blocks to eat

(33:46) The wild cards in the finale were nerfed from their original sessions. The shrinking/growing had a smaller height range, the snails moved slower, etc.

(36:21) The personalized snail skins were a late addition by Danny, who made 18 skins very quickly

(36:49) Grian did not anticipate the snails becoming as popular with fans as they were. After the session released, they had the idea to release the snail merchandise, which directly funded the rest of the season

(39:20) Grian spent what "felt like every day" testing with the developers. They'd record the sessions on Tuesdays, meet up with the dev team, talk about what need to be done, testing, bugs, etc, edit and upload on Saturday, and would get a few days grace before starting again

(40:01) After the snail session, Grian was worried that the season would be very short due to all the deaths. They were considering toning down the later wild cards but ultimately didn't change them too much

(40:36) The time wild card was carefully balanced. If it had gone even a little faster, many players likely would have died because they wouldn't have time to react to threats like baby zombies or creepers.

(40:57) While sessions normally run for a variable amount of time, session 4 was hardcoded at 2 hours. Grian ended the session ~10 minutes early, just after they hit max speed, because he felt like things were getting dicey

(42:46) When the wild card first activates, it looks a lot like the server had frozen or crashed. Grian told the players before the session started that it would look like the game was broken, but that it isn't broken. Skizz tabbed out anyway and missed the beginning 😔

(43:30) Having the rain start just as the wild card began was a good visual indicator of time slowing down. This was a suggestion from the dev team (probably Brace)

(44:41) Impulse and Grian "cheesed" the end of the session by going branch mining. Grian wanted players to take advantage of the wild cards (eg. mining quickly, helping to kill someone), and not have them just be an annoyance.

(45:30) Keeping the client and server-side time stay in sync was challenging. The sky's motion was changed to be smoother on client-side. The players were also not as fast as the server (around 2x faster), the server was going faster than that, and the time of day was even faster

(46:56) The sounds were pitched up/down based on the speed to add to the effect

(27:46) In testing, if the players were made 7x faster, it would be basically unplayable, which was why it was capped at 2x speed. This made mobs very dangerous, as they were now faster than players and could catch up to you and kill you easily

(49:01) On several occasions, they had to extend the fuse duration of creepers to make them more fair. In the time session, their speed was only increased by ~10%

(49:39) Usually, Grian was the one to test the wild cards and notice when things like creeper speed would be an issue, since he was the one with experience making videos

(50:50) A challenge with balancing wild cards is accounting for the playstyles of so many players: reckless players like Scar and Skizz, "kind and gentle" players like Bigb who would stay off to the sides, and "the sweat squad" (Scott, Impulse) who play very cautiously

(52:48) Trivia Bot was the only wild card that was not planned in advance. Grian was struggling to come up with a wild card for that episode, and wanted to have a wild card available that could give people lives in case many people died to early wild cards without it feeling cheap.

(53:33) Trivia seemed a little boring on its face, so presentation was essential

(54:34) This one made Grian the most stressed due to all the moving parts involved in making it (coding and pathfinding mostly by Henkelmax, visuals by Hoffen, audio/music, questions)

(55:08) Trivia Bot's design was based on Grumbot and Mettaton from Undertale. Hoffen drew concept art shown in the video

(58:32) They show Trivia Bot's custom animation for becoming a snail and it's really cool

(59:12) The music was the most stressful part of the project. Grian spent 2-3 days looking through Epidemic Sounds for a Trivia Bot theme song and couldn't find anything good. He commissioned Zera @hopepetal for a theme song, which is played in the podcast. However, Grian realized he needed a full audio package, so he commissioned Oli late in development, who created the final soundtrack and many audio variations

(1:01:38) Grian wants to send appreciation for everyone who worked on the project, even if their work ultimately went unused

(1:02:58) Skizz was happy to give back however he could by staying on standby in the final episode as a zombie, as the players were able to "reap all the benefits" of the hard work of the development team

(1:05:21) Grian didn't know any of the trivia questions beforehand, which were done by fans of the series. The goal was for ~50% of the questions to be answered correctly, which was approximately met

(1:07:11) Players couldn't get questions about themselves because it would be too easy. This would encourage players to leave their bot, allowing other players to mess with them

(1:07:57) Grian felt a little left out from the discovery element of the wild cards, and decided to mess with Scar by hiding his bot. He wasn't expecting Scar to die from it, and could tell that he was genuinely a little upset by it. Grian felt bad about it, which led to a genuine in-game alliance between them

(1:12:32) Grian was very close to letting Trivia Bot give lives as rewards, but decided it would feel too cheap

(1:14:38) Mob swap was slightly toned down, with more camels and sniffers spawning

(1:15:07) Evokers didn't drop totems anymore. Instead, there was a minuscule chance a warden or wither would spawn, which would drop a totem if killed. Grian was a little disappointed that the warden got cheesed in the end

(1:17:45) Having the mobs start passive and turn hostile was mostly for the presentation, building anticipation, and so players could predict where mobs would spawn and react accordingly, making things feel less unfair

(1:20:32) There was no superpower made for Skizz (or Mumbo presumably)

(1:20:38) The superpowers were another late addition. There was a large design doc where Grian created all the powers, which were handed over to Henkelmax and completed over 4 days

(1:21:42) Grian avoided superpowers involving strength, that could cause someone to die easily. Most of the powers were social or movement-based, which couldn't be used for offence as easily

(1:22:25) Some powers were randomly assigned, others weren't. Impulse's was random. Cleo's, Bigb's, Lizzie's, Grian's were assigned.

(1:24:25) Grian gave himself the mimic because it could easily backfire (like in Grian's fall damage death), and because it would've been confusing for a player who wasn't aware of the other powers. They likely would've spent the episode just figuring out how everything worked and not actually using the power to its best ability

Lots of discussion about the superpowers and how they interacted in the episode itself, go watch if you're interested :)

(1:33:38) Talk on how the series "standard" rules evolved since 3rd Life. There was no keep inventory, and no restrictions on enchanting levels or potions, which created slow or unbalanced fights

(1:36:23) 3rd Life was designed to be an experimental series, which made Grian eager to improve it. For example, some people just weren't dying in 3L, leading to the boogeyman in LL, and so on

(1:37:17) The goal with the seasons isn't to one-up the previous one, but to create a different experience every time, which keeps things engaging for the creators

(1:38:31) At the end of each session, Grian would ask the group if they had fun and how they felt about the wild cards. According the Skizz, the answer was "a resounding yes"

(1:39:08) Grian had moments throughout the season where he personally felt like things didn't go well for him, and was anxious for the rest of the group's episodes. Things worked out while editing the raw footage, though. His issues were never with the wild cards themselves, but his own actions (traps not working, spending too long branch mining), but would always find funny moments in his footage

(1:43:41) Everyone in the Life Series cast genuinely likes and genuinely respects everybody else in the group. This allows them to make the show and get mad at each other, because they know it's all just in-character

(1:44:50) It'd be hard to top Wild Life in spectacle, and Grian doesn't want to start an arms race with himself. The next season could potentially be closer to 3rd Life, but Grian's not sure yet. For Grian, Wild Life was the most enjoyable

(1:45:20) Grian: "As long as people keep enjoying [the Life Series] then I'd love to keep doing it"

(1:49:35) With the finale, Grian knew how the wild cards played out the previous sessions and was able to adjust them

(1:49:56) Grian's goal was to create safe chaos where everyone knew what was happening and wouldn't die to them, which didn't go entirely to plan. The snails were 60% of their original speed and people still died

(1:51:03) Grian made a precise timeline of when each wild card would start/stop, it wasn't randomized.

(1:54:16) All the superpowers were randomized, with Bdubs' power being removed from circulation because it didn't have much use in a finale setting

(1:56:10) It was important for Grian that in the final moments, the wild cards were removed, so there were no interruptions. The timing worked out well because there were a few people left and it ended within ~10 minutes (this implies that the change wasn't based on # of players alive, as people had speculated based on Gem's death)

(1:58:48) The players all randomly switched to zombie skins throughout the session to mess with people on NameMC. Well-played :)

[jcmarchi]

Harsh Zala, Founder and CEO of Aerobotics7 – Interview Series

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/harsh-zala-founder-and-ceo-of-aerobotics7-interview-series/

Harsh Zala, Founder and CEO of Aerobotics7 – Interview Series

Harsh Zala, CEO and Founder of Aerobotics7 International, is a young innovator from Ahmedabad, India, celebrated as “India’s drone wiz.” With multiple patents, Zala began inventing at 10, creating a remote-control device for home appliances. At 14, inspired to address the dangers of undetected landmines, he developed a prototype and, after facing rejection from 12 companies, launched Aerobotics7 with family support.

Now a leader in aerospace and defense technology, Zala’s journey of innovation and resilience inspires others to believe in purpose-driven success and the power of determination.

Aerobotics7 has developed an end-to-end technology platform designed for multi-domain threat detection and neutralization, offering enhanced speed, accuracy, and safety compared to conventional methods.

The platform represents a significant advancement over traditional tools such as armored vehicles, metal detectors, and ground-penetrating radar (GPR), which have historically been used to identify obstacles and hidden threats like landmines.

With an estimated 65 million acres of land contaminated by active landmines and unexploded ordnance (UXOs) across more than 60 countries, Aerobotics7 collaborates with governments, organizations, and military entities to address this ongoing global hazard.

You were quite young when you first became aware of the global landmine issue. What opened your eyes to this problem, and how did you realize that technology, specifically drones and AI, could provide a solution?

I’d long been obsessed with tinkering with bits of technology at home, before I discovered the issue of landmines. I used to build robots to help my mum clean the house faster, and other tools to help my school with automating the lights. When I was twelve I came across a picture of a child who’d lost both his legs to a landmine, and it was a hugely pivotal moment for me. I’d been unaware of the scale of the problem until then – there are more than 100 million active landmines worldwide – and there wasn’t a technologically advanced solution to help.

I had started building drones around the same time, and I thought, “Why don’t we use a drone that can fly and detect these mines remotely without risking the operators?”. A small amount of research had shown me that the world was still using manual, dangerous approaches to de-mining that were decades old.

The drone wasn’t the only solution though, because there are many types of non-metallic mines, so I started working on creating a sort of a radar system that would allow us to detect them. Our main solution is actually the advanced radar, sensor fusion and Machine Learning combination that we attach to drones, meaning these can be used in any conditions, including underwater.

Founding Aerobotics7 at just 14 years old must have come with unique challenges. What inspired you to take the leap into entrepreneurship, and how did you navigate the process of developing your first prototype?

Juggling school, a growing passion for technology, and starting a business was definitely challenging. I’ve always had an entrepreneurial mindset—at 12, I founded Robosoft Group, a school-based organization where I trained undergrad and grad students in practical development for their capstone projects. This experience taught me the importance of solving real-world problems and instilled confidence in my ability to take on complex challenges.

The leap into founding Aerobotics7 came after seeing a haunting photo of a child who had lost both legs to a landmine. It was a pivotal moment that opened my eyes to the sheer scale of this global issue and the lack of technological advancements to address it. Driven by the urgency of the problem, I started developing a drone-based solution. Initially, I worked on ground-based systems, but quickly realized drones offered far greater potential. After a few prototypes of drone-based systems, I collaborated with Urvashi Kikani, a former Robosoft student and now my co-founder at Aerobotics7, leveraging her expertise in Aeronautical Engineering. Together, we continued the long journey of building advanced systems that combined computer vision, ML, radar, and autonomous technologies to solve this problem.

What were some of the biggest challenges you faced when founding Aerobotics7, and how did you overcome them?

Starting young came with unique hurdles. Resources were scarce—Robosoft Group helped me generate revenue to buy tools and components, but even then, I had to be resourceful. I didn’t have internet at home, so my grandfather accompanied me to an internet café as I was a minor where I spent hours almost every day downloading research papers and books to gain foundational knowledge on many aspects of engineering both hardware and software. I’d print them out and read them late into the night, using every available moment to learn and experiment.

Facing skepticism was another challenge. I reached out to nearby companies to pitch my idea but was often dismissed because I was “just a kid.” Some even said I’d need a PhD to work on this, which, while discouraging at first, ultimately fueled my determination. My parents’ trust and support were invaluable—they believed in my work, even when it meant balancing school and my passion. This combination of resilience, resourcefulness, and family support allowed me to push forward and turn challenges into stepping stones at the earliest stage.

Can you walk us through the journey from your initial concept to the development of the EAGLE A7 drone platform? What major breakthroughs helped shape your technology?

The journey started with one goal: making landmine and hidden threat detection safer, faster, and more accurate. My initial concept was a ground robot, but its limitations—terrain restrictions and lack of scalability—led me to focus on drones. My background in drone-building at Robosoft helped, but the challenge was developing a system capable of carrying detection payloads while maintaining efficiency.

Early prototypes used oscillation-based detectors for metal detection, but these had high false-positive rates and couldn’t detect non-metallic mines. This limitation sparked years of R&D into radar-based systems. A major breakthrough came when we started integrating sensor fusion and multi-modal AI a few years ago. By combining radar, Lidar, optical sensors, and advanced algorithms, we created a unified system that drastically improved detection accuracy.

Today, the EAGLE A7 platform represents the culmination of years of iterative development. The system is still under active development and testing with our partners. We’ve scheduled pilots in Ukraine for early Summer 2025 to enhance the current demining process and continue refining the platform based on field data.

This technology is recognized for being 50 times faster and safer than traditional methods for detecting landmines. What makes Aerobotics7’s drones and AI so revolutionary in this space?

Traditional landmine detection relies heavily on manual methods, which are not only slow but extremely dangerous. Aerobotics7’s technology automates and accelerates this process by combining advanced sensor fusion with AI. The drones integrate radar, Lidar, and optical sensors to create a comprehensive picture of the terrain, identifying both metallic and non-metallic threats, on-surface and buried with high precision.

Our AI-driven models are trained to analyze these multi-modal data streams in real-time, significantly reducing false positives and clearance time. The system’s modular design also allows for seamless upgrades and customization for different environments, making it adaptable to a wide range of scenarios. While still under development, the platform’s early results show its potential to redefine the landscape of demining with unmatched speed, safety, and accuracy.

What role do partnerships with international organizations and governments play in achieving Aerobotics7’s mission?

Partnerships are integral to our mission. Collaborating with governments and international organizations enables us to scale our impact and tailor our solutions to real-world needs. These partnerships provide access to critical field data, operational insights, and deployment opportunities.

Working with international demining organizations and defense departments globally has allowed us to validate and refine our technology under diverse conditions. These collaborations not only enhance our capabilities but also bring us closer to achieving our ultimate goal: saving lives and restoring freedom of movement in conflict-affected areas.

You recently won the Kluz Prize for PeaceTech. Could you begin by explaining what PeaceTech is and why it’s important?

PeaceTech refers to the use of technology to promote peace, stability, and safety in conflict zones. It involves leveraging innovation to address challenges like landmines, which threaten civilian lives and hinder economic growth in post-conflict regions.

Traditional demining and conflict resolution methods are often slow, costly, and risky. PeaceTech solutions, such as ours, offer scalable and efficient alternatives that not only save lives but also create opportunities for rebuilding communities and fostering long-term stability.

A great concept around this is “Triple-Use Technology,” introduced by Artur Kluz and Stefaan Verhulst. This framework envisions technology serving commercial, defense, and peacebuilding purposes simultaneously. By integrating peacebuilding into technological applications, can develop solutions that address multiple societal needs, enhancing both security and prosperity.

How does winning the Kluz Prize for PeaceTech impact your company’s future plans? Will this recognition enable you to expand globally?

Winning the Kluz Prize validates the years of effort we’ve invested in pioneering this technology. It opens doors to new collaborations with international organizations and accelerates our entry into key markets.

This recognition strengthens our credibility as a leader in PeaceTech, helping to forge partnerships and secure funding for global expansion.

As a young founder, what is your long-term vision for Aerobotics7?

My vision is to position Aerobotics7 as the global leader in developing platforms that transform mission-critical operations. Beyond landmine detection, I see our technology evolving into a multi-mission platform capable of tackling diverse challenges, from disaster response to critical infrastructure monitoring.

At its core, Aerobotics7 is about creating life-saving technology that empowers operators with better and faster systems. I envision a future where our innovations redefine safety and efficiency across industries, fostering a safer, more resilient, and connected world.

Looking back, what has been the most rewarding aspect of your journey so far, and what keeps you motivated to continue pushing the boundaries of drone and AI technology?

The most rewarding aspect has been seeing how technology can directly impact lives. Knowing that our work at Aerobotics7 is paving the way for safer, more efficient threat detection and potentially saving countless lives is incredibly fulfilling.

What keeps me motivated is the responsibility to make this technology as effective and accessible as possible. We’re not just building a system; we’re creating a solution to a problem that has persisted for decades. The ongoing development of the EAGLE A7 platform, from sensor fusion to multi-modal AI, inspires me to push the boundaries further. Our scheduled pilots in Ukraine for early Summer 2025 mark a significant milestone, and the possibility of witnessing its real-world impact continues to drive me forward.

Looking back, what has been the most rewarding aspect of your journey so far, and what keeps you motivated to continue pushing the boundaries of drone and AI technology?

The journey itself has been deeply rewarding—from overcoming challenges as a young founder to building a product with global significance. What stands out most is the people and communities we’re working to help. Landmine detection isn’t just about technology; it’s about restoring hope and safety to affected regions.

What motivates me every day is the vision of a world where no child loses their future to a landmine. The breakthroughs we’ve achieved so far in radar systems, sensor fusion, and AI are just the beginning. With every step, from development to field testing with our partners, I see Aerobotics7 getting closer to making this vision a reality. That promise of tangible, lasting impact keeps me pushing forward.

Thank you for the great interview, and more importantly for all of the important work that you do, readers who wish to learn more should visit Aerobotics7. 

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Cars bricked by bankrupt EV company will stay bricked

On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

There are few phrases in the modern lexicon more accursed than "software-based car," and yet, this is how the failed EV maker Fisker billed its products, which retailed for $40-70k in the few short years before the company collapsed, shut down its servers, and degraded all those "software-based cars":

https://insideevs.com/news/723669/fisker-inc-bankruptcy-chapter-11-official/

Fisker billed itself as a "capital light" manufacturer, meaning that it didn't particularly make anything – rather, it "designed" cars that other companies built, allowing Fisker to focus on "experience," which is where the "software-based car" comes in. Virtually every subsystem in a Fisker car needs (or rather, needed) to periodically connect with its servers, either for regular operations or diagnostics and repair, creating frequent problems with brakes, airbags, shifting, battery management, locking and unlocking the doors:

https://www.businessinsider.com/fisker-owners-worry-about-vehicles-working-bankruptcy-2024-4

Since Fisker's bankruptcy, people with even minor problems with their Fisker EVs have found themselves owning expensive, inert lumps of conflict minerals and auto-loan debt; as one Fisker owner described it, "It's literally a lawn ornament right now":

https://www.businessinsider.com/fisker-owners-describe-chaos-to-keep-cars-running-after-bankruptcy-2024-7

This is, in many ways, typical Internet-of-Shit nonsense, but it's compounded by Fisker's capital light, all-outsource model, which led to extremely unreliable vehicles that have been plagued by recalls. The bankrupt company has proposed that vehicle owners should have to pay cash for these recalls, in order to reserve the company's capital for its creditors – a plan that is clearly illegal:

https://www.veritaglobal.net/fisker/document/2411390241007000000000005

This isn't even the first time Fisker has done this! Ten years ago, founder Henrik Fisker started another EV company called Fisker Automotive, which went bankrupt in 2014, leaving the company's "Karma" (no, really) long-range EVs (which were unreliable and prone to bursting into flames) in limbo:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fisker_Karma

Which raises the question: why did investors reward Fisker's initial incompetence by piling in for a second attempt? I think the answer lies in the very factor that has made Fisker's failure so hard on its customers: the "software-based car." Investors love the sound of a "software-based car" because they understand that a gadget that is connected to the cloud is ripe for rent-extraction, because with software comes a bundle of "IP rights" that let the company control its customers, critics and competitors:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

A "software-based car" gets to mobilize the state to enforce its "IP," which allows it to force its customers to use authorized mechanics (who can, in turn, be price-gouged for licensing and diagnostic tools). "IP" can be used to shut down manufacturers of third party parts. "IP" allows manufacturers to revoke features that came with your car and charge you a monthly subscription fee for them. All sorts of features can be sold as downloadable content, and clawed back when title to the car changes hands, so that the new owners have to buy them again. "Software based cars" are easier to repo, making them perfect for the subprime auto-lending industry. And of course, "software-based cars" can gather much more surveillance data on drivers, which can be sold to sleazy, unregulated data-brokers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

Unsurprisingly, there's a large number of Fisker cars that never sold, which the bankruptcy estate is seeking a buyer for. For a minute there, it looked like they'd found one: American Lease, which was looking to acquire the deadstock Fiskers for use as leased fleet cars. But now that deal seems dead, because no one can figure out how to restart Fisker's servers, and these vehicles are bricks without server access:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/10/08/fisker-bankruptcy-hits-major-speed-bump-as-fleet-sale-is-now-in-question/

It's hard to say why the company's servers are so intransigent, but there's a clue in the chaotic way that the company wound down its affairs. The company's final days sound like a scene from the last days of the German Democratic Republic, with apparats from the failing state charging about in chaos, without any plans for keeping things running:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2023/03/07/east-germany-stasi-surveillance-documents/

As it imploded, Fisker cycled through a string of Chief Financial officers, losing track of millions of dollars at a time:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/05/31/fisker-collapse-investigation-ev-ocean-suv-henrik-geeta/

When Fisker's landlord regained possession of its HQ, they found "complete disarray," including improperly stored drums of toxic waste:

https://techcrunch.com/2024/10/05/fiskers-hq-abandoned-in-complete-disarray-with-apparent-hazardous-waste-clay-models-left-behind/

And while Fisker's implosion is particularly messy, the fact that it landed in bankruptcy is entirely unexceptional. Most businesses fail (eventually) and most startups fail (quickly). Despite this, businesses – even those in heavily regulated sectors like automotive regulation – are allowed to design products and undertake operations that are not designed to outlast the (likely short-lived) company.

After the 2008 crisis and the collapse of financial institutions like Lehman Brothers, finance regulators acquired a renewed interest in succession planning. Lehman consisted of over 6,000 separate corporate entities, each one representing a bid to evade regulation and/or taxation. Unwinding that complex hairball took years, during which the entities that entrusted Lehman with their funds – pensions, charitable institutions, etc – were unable to access their money.

To avoid repeats of this catastrophe, regulators began to insist that banks produce "living wills" – plans for unwinding their affairs in the event of catastrophe. They had to undertake "stress tests" that simulated a wind-down as planned, both to make sure the plan worked and to estimate how long it would take to execute. Then banks were required to set aside sufficient capital to keep the lights on while the plan ran on.

This regulation has been indifferently enforced. Banks spent the intervening years insisting that they are capable of prudently self-regulating without all this interference, something they continue to insist upon even after the Silicon Valley Bank collapse:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/15/mon-dieu-les-guillotines/#ceci-nes-pas-une-bailout

The fact that the rules haven't been enforced tells us nothing about whether the rules would work if they were enforced. A string of high-profile bankruptcies of companies who had no succession plans and whose collapse stands to materially harm large numbers of people tells us that something has to be done about this.

Take 23andme, the creepy genomics company that enticed millions of people into sending them their genetic material (even if you aren't a 23andme customer, they probably have most of your genome, thanks to relatives who sent in cheek-swabs). 23andme is now bankrupt, and its bankruptcy estate is shopping for a buyer who'd like to commercially exploit all that juicy genetic data, even if that is to the detriment of the people it came from. What's more, the bankruptcy estate is refusing to destroy samples from people who want to opt out of this future sale:

https://bourniquelaw.com/2024/10/09/data-23-and-me/

On a smaller scale, there's Juicebox, a company that makes EV chargers, who are exiting the North American market and shutting down their servers, killing the advanced functionality that customers paid extra for when they chose a Juicebox product:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/10/2/24260316/juicebox-ev-chargers-enel-x-way-closing-discontinued-app

I actually owned a Juicebox, which ultimately caught fire and melted down, either due to a manufacturing defect or to the criminal ineptitude of Treeium, the worst solar installers in Southern California (or both):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/27/here-comes-the-sun-king/#sign-here

Projects like Juice Rescue are trying to reverse-engineer the Juicebox server infrastructure and build an alternative:

https://juice-rescue.org/

This would be much simpler if Juicebox's manufacturer, Enel X Way, had been required to file a living will that explained how its customers would go on enjoying their property when and if the company discontinued support, exited the market, or went bankrupt.

That might be a big lift for every little tech startup (though it would be superior than trying to get justice after the company fails). But in regulated sectors like automotive manufacture or genomic analysis, a regulation that says, "Either design your products and services to fail safely, or escrow enough cash to keep the lights on for the duration of an orderly wind-down in the event that you shut down" would be perfectly reasonable. Companies could make "software based cars" but the more "software based" the car was, the more funds they'd have to escrow to transition their servers when they shut down (and the lest capital they'd have to build the car).

Such a rule should be in addition to more muscular rules simply banning the most abusive practices, like the Oregon state Right to Repair bill, which bans the "parts pairing" that makes repairing a Fisker car so onerous:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/3/27/24097042/right-to-repair-law-oregon-sb1596-parts-pairing-tina-kotek-signed

Or the Illinois state biometric privacy law, which strictly limits the use of the kind of genomic data that 23andme collected:

https://www.ilga.gov/legislation/ilcs/ilcs3.asp?ActID=3004

Failing to take action on these abusive practices is dangerous – and not just to the people who get burned by them. Every time a genomics research project turns into a privacy nightmare, that salts the earth for future medical research, making it much harder to conduct population-scale research, which can be carried out in privacy-preserving ways, and which pays huge scientific dividends that we all benefit from:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/01/the-palantir-will-see-you-now/#public-private-partnership

Just as Fisker's outrageous ripoff will make life harder for good cleantech companies:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/26/unplanned-obsolescence/#better-micetraps

If people are convinced that new, climate-friendly tech is a cesspool of grift and extraction, it will punish those firms that are making routine, breathtaking, exciting (and extremely vital) breakthroughs:

https://www.euronews.com/green/2024/10/08/norways-national-football-stadium-has-the-worlds-largest-vertical-solar-roof-how-does-it-w

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/10/software-based-car/#based

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - September 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my new(ly repurposed) Patreon!

1. A beam of hope for North America’s most endangered sparrow

“Dozens of conservationists, gathered some distance away to avoid spooking the skittish sparrows, celebrated the [release of the 1000th captive-raised sparrow] in an unprecedented recovery program that in only a few years has doubled the bird’s wild population, from a mere 80 five years ago to some 200 today. […] “What we have achieved is the best case scenario.””

2. U.S. overdose deaths plummet, saving thousands of lives

“"In the states that have the most rapid data collection systems, we’re seeing declines of twenty percent, thirty percent," said Dr. Nabarun Dasgupta, an expert on street drugs at the University of North Carolina. […] According to Donaldson, many people using fentanyl now carry naloxone, a medication that reverses most opioid overdoses. He said his friends also use street drugs with others nearby, ready to offer aid and support when overdoses occur.”

3. Propagated corals reveal increased resistance to bleaching across the Caribbean during the fatal heat wave of 2023

“”[… Y]oung corals bred for restoration are a lot more resistant to bleaching under extreme levels of heat stress than the prevailing corals on the reef." [… Unlike with the previous propagation strategy, fragmentation, e]very time a population reproduces, new offspring receive newly mixed sets of genes through recombination, making them different from their parent colonies and thus enabling adaptation.”

4. Habitat Management Helps At-Risk Butterflies

“For a number of at-risk butterflies in the United States, habitat management can play an important role in keeping them from going extinct. [… “In] places where people are actively engaged with ways to manage the habitat, the butterflies are doing the best,” said Cheryl Schultz, a professor of conservation biology at Washington State University[….]”

5. Study: Protecting the ocean helps fight malnutrition

“[The study] found that fish catches in coral reefs could increase by up to 20 percent by expanding sustainable-use marine protected areas — that is, areas where some fishing is allowed with restrictions[, … and] that sustainable-use marine protected areas have on average 15 percent more fish biomass than non-protected areas. […] “Allowing regulated fishing in marine protected areas can support healthy fish populations, while also having a positive impact on the quality of life of surrounding communities.””

6. [FWS] Advances Effort to Create Urban Conservation Footprint in Tucson

““We want to continue to work together to create an urban footprint to improve access to nature, conserve habitats, and improve air and water quality.” […] The area provides habitat for several federally listed species, including southwestern willow flycatcher, western yellow-billed cuckoo, and Mexican garter snake. If protected, the area will also help connect critical habitat for jaguar and Chiracahua leopard frog.”

7. ‘Exciting’ solar breakthrough means energy can be kept in sustainable batteries that don’t overheat

“The technology is based on a specially designed molecule of carbon, hydrogen and nitrogen that changes shape when it comes into contact with sunlight. These are common elements - providing an alternative to other technologies relying on scarce materials like lithium. […] A unique feature of the system is that the molecules also provide cooling in the photovoltaic cell[, which can store solar energy “for up to 18 years.”]”

8. Sea turtles make big comeback on sandy beaches at 2 British military bases in Cyprus

“[… The] number of nests surpass[ed] last year’s record count by nearly 25%, environmentalists said Tuesday. […] “The steep increase in turtle nests has been the result of a consistent, systematic ‘hands-off’ approach, together with enforcement efforts to minimize illegal, damaging activities on nesting beaches[….” D]aily patrols by volunteers ensure that aluminum cages set atop the nests remain in place to protect the turtles from predators like foxes and dogs.”

9. First ever photograph of rare bird species New Britain Goshawk

“The last documented scientific record of the bird is from 1969[….] Working closely with [“the Indigenous Mengen and Mamusi peoples”], WWF hopes to support local stewardship to safeguard the future of these incredible biodiversity hotspots through community-led conservation.”

10. Hospitals begin offering breakthrough radiation therapy for metastatic cancer tumors

“[First,] a patient is injected with a radioactive glucose (or sugar) tracer. The machine picks up the tracer in real time and in bright colors, [… then] reads a signal from the cancer cells breaking down the tracer. [… “The] machine is automatically and autonomously reacting and responding to those signals by shooting radiation back to their source[….]””

September 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[reasonsforhope]

"The Netherlands is pulling even further ahead of its peers in the shift to a recycling-driven circular economy, new data shows.

According to the European Commission’s statistics office, 27.5% of the material resources used in the country come from recycled waste.

For context, Belgium is a distant second, with a “circularity rate” of 22.2%, while the EU average is 11.5% – a mere 0.8 percentage point increase from 2010.

“We are a frontrunner, but we have a very long way to go still, and we’re fully aware of that,” Martijn Tak, a policy advisor in the Dutch ministry of infrastructure and water management, tells The Progress Playbook. 

The Netherlands aims to halve the use of primary abiotic raw materials by 2030 and run the economy entirely on recycled materials by 2050. Amsterdam, a pioneer of the “doughnut economics” concept, is behind much of the progress.

Why it matters

The world produces some 2 billion tonnes of municipal solid waste each year, and this could rise to 3.4 billion tonnes annually by 2050, according to the World Bank.

Landfills are already a major contributor to planet-heating greenhouse gases, and discarded trash takes a heavy toll on both biodiversity and human health.

“A circular economy is not the goal itself,” Tak says. “It’s a solution for societal issues like climate change, biodiversity loss, environmental pollution, and resource-security for the country.”

A fresh approach

While the Netherlands initially focused primarily on waste management, “we realised years ago that’s not good enough for a circular economy.”

In 2017, the state signed a “raw materials agreement” with municipalities, manufacturers, trade unions and environmental organisations to collaborate more closely on circular economy projects.

It followed that up with a national implementation programme, and in early 2023, published a roadmap to 2030, which includes specific targets for product groups like furniture and textiles. An English version was produced so that policymakers in other markets could learn from the Netherlands’ experiences, Tak says.

The programme is focused on reducing the volume of materials used throughout the economy partly by enhancing efficiencies, substituting raw materials for bio-based and recycled ones, extending the lifetimes of products wherever possible, and recycling.

It also aims to factor environmental damage into product prices, require a certain percentage of second-hand materials in the manufacturing process, and promote design methods that extend the lifetimes of products by making them easier to repair.

There’s also an element of subsidisation, including funding for “circular craft centres and repair cafés”.

This idea is already in play. In Amsterdam, a repair centre run by refugees, and backed by the city and outdoor clothing brand Patagonia, is helping big brands breathe new life into old clothes.

Meanwhile, government ministries aim to aid progress by prioritising the procurement of recycled or recyclable electrical equipment and construction materials, for instance.

State support is critical to levelling the playing field, analysts say...

Long Road Ahead

The government also wants manufacturers – including clothing and beverages companies – to take full responsibility for products discarded by consumers.

“Producer responsibility for textiles is already in place, but it’s work in progress to fully implement it,” Tak says.

And the household waste collection process remains a challenge considering that small city apartments aren’t conducive to having multiple bins, and sparsely populated rural areas are tougher to service.

“Getting the collection system right is a challenge, but again, it’s work in progress.”

...Nevertheless, Tak says wealthy countries should be leading the way towards a fully circular economy as they’re historically the biggest consumers of natural resources."

-via The Progress Playbook, December 13, 2023

[scarluna]

Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT III / ACT IV / ACT V / ACT VI / ACT VII / ACT VIII

Chapters: 2 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers

ACT II.

The office was a battlefield, and I was the only one unarmed.

Every day felt like a fresh assault. Tina’s barbs were sharper, her voice dripping with fake sympathy as she leaned over my desk. “Oh, Y/N, are you sure you’re comfortable in that chair? It looks like it’s a little… snug.”

I tried to ignore her, my cheeks burning as I focused on the mock-up on my screen. She’d been relentless all week, and every comment felt like a jab to my already low self-esteem. I was keeping quiet, minding my own business but the bullying never seemed to stop. I wanted to be the bigger person, the mature person who doesn't take things to heart. And it seemed like it from outside, but from the inside I was suffering. 

Across the room, Yoongi wasn’t much better. His criticisms were less direct, but no less cutting. He had a way of making me feel incompetent without ever raising his voice. “Y/N, these designs lack creativity,” he’d say, his tone calm but loaded with judgment. “Maybe it’s time you considered a role that’s more… fitting for your skill set. Like data entry.”

I bit my lip, swallowing the lump in my throat. I wasn’t going to cry. Not here, not in front of them.

Jungkook, however, was the worst of all. Every glance he threw my way felt like a judgment, every word like a blow.

“You’re moving too slow,” he snapped one afternoon, slamming a stack of papers onto my desk, leaning over to my face whilst his dark eyes burned into my soul. “Do you even understand deadlines? Or is thinking that fast too much for you?”

The team laughed quietly, but the sound roared in my ears. I felt my hands tremble. I wanted to open my mouth, I wanted to shout and say that I quit this god forsaken place, but I couldn't. Call me weak, call me pushover or whatever, but this job was important to me and I wanted to keep proving my worth.

By the end of the day, I was drained of course. My confidence was in shreds, my energy spent. But the worst moments came when I was alone at home, sitting in my small one-bedroom flat with my dog curled up at my feet and tears streaming down my face.

-

That evening, I sat at the kitchen table, staring at a cold cup of tea in my hands. Hades, my dog, whimpered, sensing my distress, and I reached down to stroke his soft fur.

“I’m fine,” I whispered in a shaky voice, wiping my tears away. It has been like this for weeks. I was at work, bullied, mocked at, then came home and cried my eyes out the entire evening. And then when I opened my eyes in the next morning, the cycle repeated itself.

I thought of my parents, so far away and unaware of the chaos in my life. I couldn’t burden them with this. I thought of my brother in prison, the shame my family carried, and the weight of holding everything together by myself.

And yet, I knew I couldn’t give up. If I lost this job, I’d lose everything. My apartment, my independence, my sense of self. I had to keep going, no matter how much it hurt.

-

The next morning, I dragged myself into the office, my body heavy with exhaustion and my eyes burning from all the crying and lack of sleep. 

The morning passed in a blur of emails, revisions, and pointed comments from Yoongi and Tina which I ignored, I was too lost in thoughts to even listen to them anymore. By lunchtime, my head was pounding, but I pushed through, forcing myself to finish the latest round of edits.

“You look terrible,” Tina said as she passed my desk, her voice dripping with mocking concern. “Maybe you should take a break. But then again, even when you take a break you'd do a shitty job afterward yet again.”

I ignored her, focusing on the screen in front of me. My surroundings were like a blurr. Somewhat, I lost sense of my emotions the moment I focused on my design as this was the only thing helping me out in this moment. 

By the end of the day, my vision was blurring. My body felt like it was on autopilot, moving through tasks without really comprehending what I was doing. Of course I did fuck up a few times, stumbling in my tasks and that did not go unnoticed by my boss.

“Y/N, are you listening?” Jungkook’s voice snapped me out of my daze.

I blinked, realizing I had been staring at my screen without hearing a word of the conversation happening around me.

“Yeah. . . I am listening," I lied lowly, refusing to meet his eyes.

I could practically hear him scoff and probably roll his eyes. “You’re useless. Why are you even here?”

The words hit me like a slap, but I couldn’t muster the strength to respond.

-

It happened that evening at the end of my workday, just as I was finishing the last of my assignments. I stood up from my desk, the world tilting around me and my legs went weak. My vision blurred, and before I could catch myself, everything went black.

-

When I came to my senses, I was lying on the floor, a small crowd gathered around me. Rya’s worried face was the first thing I saw, her hands gently patting my cheeks.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” she asked, her voice filled with panic. "Should we call an ambulance?"

I groaned, my body aching as I tried to sit up. “N-no, i-it's fine. What happened?” I was pulled up gently by Rya as the other colleagues slowly walked away because they saw Rya's murderous glance. This girl was doing everything to protect me and she had no clue how grateful and appreciative I was to her for that.

“You fainted,” Rya said, helping me up. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.” I was also not eating at all, because their jokes about how I looked finally had gotten to me. 

Hoseok appeared, holding a bottle of water. “You need to take care of yourself, Y/N,” he said gently. “This job isn’t worth destroying your health over.”

I felt tears prick at my eyes, but I forced them back, nodding weakly. “I’m fine,” I said, though my voice shook. “I’ll be fine.” I saw Hoseok and Rya look at each other and then back at me. From the corner of my eye I saw Tina stand not too far away, arms crossed against her chest. She huffed and headed down the hallway. This was a lost cause, wasn't it? Working at such a big company, getting paid well, just to be treated like trash...

Deep down, I knew that me saying I was fine was far from the truth. Something had to change soon—because if it didn’t, I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.

-

I didn’t expect the knock on my door that Saturday morning. Weekends were my time to recharge, to hide from the world and the constant judgment I faced at work. I would spend the weekends curled in bed, eating my emotions away and watching crime documentaries while Hades was curled by my side. But when I opened the door and saw whoever was standing there, a small smile on his face and a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands, my heart skipped a beat.

“Taehyung?” I blinked, caught off guard by the sight of my childhood best friend. It had been months since we’d last seen each other, though we’d kept in touch through our parents.

“Surprise,” he said warmly, holding out the flowers. “Thought I’d stop by and say hello. You’re not busy, are you?”

I shook my head, taking the flowers with a smile. “Not at all. Come in!”

He stepped inside, taking in the small space. Hades barked excitedly at the newcomer, running in circles around Taehyung’s legs.

“Hades,” I said with a laugh, scooping up my little dog. “Be nice. This is Taehyung.”

Taehyung grinned, scratching behind Hades’ ears. “You have a dog now? I should’ve brought treats.” "It's okay, he shouldn't eat much or else he'd become pudgy." "But pudgy is cute." he muttered and I giggled. His aura and presense somehow made me feel safe and at ease. I forgot how much of a kind hearted man Tae was. And here he was, dressed casually, hair a cute mess and a lazy smile gracing his features.

We spent a few minutes catching up before Taehyung suggested we take a walk. “It’s been ages since we’ve just hung out,” he said. “Let’s go to the park. Get some fresh air.”

The park was peaceful, the late morning sun casting a golden glow over the trees. We walked along the path, Hades trotting happily beside us on his leash. The park was not filled with many people this early in the morning and I was grateful for that. Somehow a lot of people made me anxious.

“So,” Taehyung said, breaking the comfortable silence, “how’s life in the big city? Still doing graphic design?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound more enthusiastic than I felt. “It’s… a lot. But I’m managing.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Managing, huh? That doesn’t sound like the Y/N I know. You used to dream big. What happened to that spark of yours?”

I shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Life happened, I guess.”

Taehyung frowned but didn’t press further. Instead, he changed the subject. “Have you heard from your parents recently? My mom mentioned they were planning to visit soon.”

I nodded. “We talk every week. They’re good, keeping busy.”

“And your brother?”

I hesitated, the mention of my brother a sensitive topic, of course. I didn't talk to anyone about him and my parents seemed to be good at avoiding the topic for my own brother as well. They acted as if he was a shame to our family. “He’s… okay. Still in prison, but we’re hopeful he’ll be out sooner than expected. He’s trying to stay positive.”

Taehyung’s expression softened. “If there’s anything I can do to help, you’ll let me know, right? My firm handles cases like his all the time.” Taehyung was a successful lawyer here, he even owned his own law firm and I was so happy for him. Ever since he was a child he was determined and a smooth talker, convincing people with ease. He was also smart and selfless which was one of the things I liked about him.

I smiled, touched by his offer. “Thanks, Tae. I’ll keep that in mind.”

As we continued walking, Taehyung talked about his work and how many weird cases he has been working on recently.

“I still can’t believe you run your own firm,” I said, shaking my head. “You make it sound so easy.”

He laughed. “It’s anything but easy, trust me. But I love what I do. And it doesn’t hurt that my parents are proud of me for once.”

“They’ve always been proud of you,” I said, nudging him playfully. “You’re their golden child.”

“Maybe,” he said, his tone teasing. “But I’ve always cared more about what you thought of me.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his words. Before I could respond, Hades barked, pulling at the leash.

I glanced up to see what had caught his attention—and froze.

My boss was leaning against a dark Mercedez Benz and a cigarette dangled between his lips. He looked so casual. And also there was a man who had his back on me but it did not take me long to realize this was Yoongi.  I was staring for too long. Jungkook's gaze flickered on me and I saw a glint of surprise which made Yoongi turn around as well. My heart stopped.

For a moment, neither of us moved. It was as if the world had stopped, the air thick with tension.

“Y/N?” Taehyung’s voice broke the spell, and I tore my gaze away from Jungkook, my heart pounding.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “What were you saying?”

Taehyung followed my gaze, his brow furrowing as he took in both men's figures. “Is that Jeon Jungkook?” he asked surprised.

I shook my head, the knot in my stomach tightening. “Y-yeah. ” I mumbled and Tae hummed.  "So he is your boss?" I nodded. "Does he give you a hard time? I can give him a piece of my mind." I could hear the annoyance on Taehyung's voice as he spoke about Jungkook. I shook my head and my eyes shifted back on Tae.  "It's fine.Let's just go."

Taehyung didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, steering the conversation back to lighter topics as we slowly walked away.

But even as we continued walking, laughing and reminiscing, I couldn’t shake the image of Jungkook’s piercing gaze—or the way it had made me feel like he could see right through me.

-

Monday arrived far too quickly, and as I walked into the office, I could already feel the tension in the air. The weekend spent with Taehyung had been a rare reprieve, a reminder of the warmth of genuine friendship. But as soon as I entered the workspace, the cruel reality of my job hit me like a cold slap.

The whispers started almost immediately.

“Did you see her at the park?” Tina’s voice carried from the nearby break area, intentionally loud enough for me to hear.

“Oh, yeah,” Yoongi drawled, smirking as he leaned against the counter. “Who’d she pay to walk beside her like that?”

A few chuckles rippled through the room, and I kept my eyes fixed on my desk, willing myself to ignore them.

“Maybe he’s her personal trainer,” Tina continued with a sneer. “Though, let’s be honest, she doesn’t seem like the type who actually listens to advice.”

I gripped the edge of my desk, my knuckles turning white as I fought to keep my composure.

Jungkook’s voice joined the fray, sharp and mocking. “He probably felt bad for her. Sympathy date, maybe.”

Laughter erupted around me, the sound cutting deeper than I cared to admit.

“Morning, Y/N!” Tina’s fake tone made my stomach churn as she approached my desk, her heels clicking against the floor. “Had a good weekend? You seemed… busy.”

I forced a smile, keeping my voice even. “It was fine, thanks.”

Her eyes sparkled with faux curiosity. “Oh, come on, you can tell us. Who was that guy? Friend? Cousin? You’re not seriously trying to say he’s your boyfriend, are you?”

The heat rose to my cheeks, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “Just an old friend.”

Tina’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Oh, that makes sense. Because, you know, someone like him... with someone like you? Not exactly believable.”

The laughter started up again, and I clenched my fists under the desk, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from snapping back. I shot her a glare however and she did see it. That errupted a chuckle from her and she walked away with graceful steps, shaking her hips because she knew Jungkook was there.  Pathetic bitch.

-

The hours dragged on, each task feeling heavier under the weight of the relentless mockery. By lunchtime, I felt like I was suffocating, the walls of the office closing in around me. I haven't felt like this since I was in damn high school.

“Y/N, you okay?” Rya’s voice was a lifeline, her genuine concern cutting through the fog of humiliation.

I glanced up to see her and Hoseok standing by my desk, their expressions sympathetic.

“Yeah,” I lied, forcing a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Let’s grab lunch,” Hoseok suggested. “Get out of here for a bit.”

I hesitated, but the idea of escaping the toxic atmosphere, even for a little while, was too tempting to pass up.

As we sat in a small café a few blocks away, I felt the tension slowly begin to ease. The warm, comforting smells of coffee and pastries wrapped around me like a blanket, and for the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe again.

“They’re absolute trash,” Rya said bluntly, stirring her latte. “Tina, Yoongi, Jungkook—all of them.”

Hoseok nodded, his eyes serious. “You’re better than all of them combined, Y/N.”

I shrugged, poking at my sandwich with a fork. “It’s just... exhausting. I try to ignore them, but it’s like they go out of their way to tear me down.”

“They’re jealous,” Rya said firmly. “That’s all it is. You have talent, Y/N. They see that, and it scares them.”

I gave her a doubtful look. “They don’t seem scared to me.”

“Well, screw them,” Hoseok said, his tone unusually sharp. “You’ve got people who believe in you, Y/N.” I wish I could believe his words, but deep down I didn't. I was too absorbed in my inner pain to even think someone was believing in me. I wasn't believing in myself in the first place.

-

As I stepped through the doors, Yoongi’s voice rang out, loud and mocking.

“Back from lunch with your friends?” he said, smirking as he leaned against his desk arms crossed against his chest.

The others laughed, their eyes gleaming with amusement as they watched me walk past.

I didn’t respond, didn’t even look at him. But inside, I was crumbling, each cruel word chipping away at the walls I’d built to protect myself.

How much longer could I keep this up? How much more could I take before I broke completely?The answer lingered in the back of my mind, terrifying and inevitable.

-

The rest of the day passed in a haze of barely contained emotions. I kept my head down, focusing on the screen in front of me, even as whispers and snickers floated through the air like poison. Even my team was just as disgusting except Hoseok and Rya. What was wrong with adults acting like children? 

By the time 4 PM rolled around, I was hanging on by a thread. But of course, Tina wasn’t about to let me leave without one final jab.

She sauntered over to my desk, her heels clicking against the floor like a countdown to my inevitable implosion. Today she wore a bright blue pencil skirt, a white blouse that had too much buttons popped off. I could see her cleveage clearly. This was definitely not job appropriate but I knew who she was doing this for.

“Hey, Y/N,” she said, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about your designs. They’re… fine, I guess. For someone who clearly hasn’t seen the inside of a fashion magazine in, what, years?”

Her laugh was joined by Yoongi’s low chuckle from across the room, and my chest tightened.

“Not everyone can have an eye for detail like I do,” Tina continued, her voice rising so the whole office could hear. “But don’t worry. Maybe if you spent less time stuffing your face with food and more time paying attention to trends, you might actually produce something worth presenting to a client.”

The room fell silent, all eyes on me. My hands trembled, my nails digging into the edge of my desk.

“Enough,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel the rage bubbling up from deep inside of me. It was getting hard to control myself at this point. All these weeks of bullying and me being silent had to come to an end.

“What was that?” Tina leaned closer, a smug smile tugging at her lips.

“I said enough!” I stood up so quickly my chair toppled over, the loud clatter startling everyone. Tina's expression changed, I could see her blue eyes grow wide as she took a slight step back and her hands fell down her sides.

Tina blinked, clearly not expecting a reaction from me. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me,” I said, my voice shaking but growing stronger with every word. “I’ve had it with your constant shitty bullying. Every day, you find some new way to tear me down, and for what? To make yourself feel better? To prove you’re better than me?”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “Oh, please. Don’t be so dramatic.” she tried to look disinterested but I could see the surprise in her eyes from my outburst. Somehow I couldn't keep my mouth shut anymore. The words kept spilling out.

“Dramatic?” I laughed bitterly. “You’ve been treating me like garbage since the day I got here. Mocking my work, my weight, the way I dress, the way I look. And for what? Because you’re insecure? Because you can’t stand the idea of someone else succeeding? Someone else that is plain looking? Or should I say, someone that is different looking?”

The color drained from her face, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“And let’s not even start on the way you constantly throw yourself at the boss, who mind you, is just as shitty as you are.” I added, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “The way you bat your lashes, lean into him, practically cling to his arm whenever he’s in the room... everyone sees it, Jungkook especially. And guess what, he is not interested. Pathetic, isn't it?” I took a step toward her. She was taller than me wearing those heels, but I didn't gave a fuck. I was full with rage.

Gasps rippled through the office, and Tina’s cheeks turned crimson. From the corner of my eyes I could see Yoongi lean back on his chair and stare at us in pure silence.

“You want to act like you’re above me, Tina? Fine. But don’t think for a second we don’t all see how desperate you are to get his attention—and how he couldn’t care less. And you trying to bring me down by being a shitty Direct Manager does nothing to make the boss notice you.”

Her jaw dropped, her confidence visibly crumbling. “You—”

“What?” I snapped, cutting her off. “You don’t like hearing the truth? He doesn’t want you. He never will. So maybe, instead of tearing other people down to make yourself feel important, you should take a good, long look in the mirror.”

The room was deathly quiet, every pair of eyes glued to the unfolding scene.

“I-I will have you fired for this!" she stuttered, her face red with embarrassment.

I stared at her, my chest heaving, and for the first time, I saw her for what she really was: small, scared, and desperately clinging to the illusion of power.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice steady. “Do it, maybe I will finally get the mental break I deserve.”

Without another word, I grabbed my bag and walked out of the office, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the silence.

I didn’t make it far before the tears started falling. I ducked into the stairwell, sinking onto the cold concrete steps as the weight of the confrontation hit me. My shoulders shook with sobs, the release of weeks—months—of pent-up frustration and pain. Fucking hell, was I going to get fired for this? Fuck fuck fuck.

The door creaked open, and I looked up to see Rya standing there, her expression a mix of concern and pride.

“That was epic,” she said, sitting down beside me.

I laughed weakly, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “It didn’t feel epic. It felt terrifying.”

“Well, it needed to be said,” she said firmly. “And you said it. You stood up for yourself, Y/N. That takes a lot of guts.”

I nodded, my tears slowing as her words sank in. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a spark of something I hadn’t felt in a long time: pride.

“Thanks, Rya,” I said softly.

She smiled, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Anytime. And just so you know, you’re not alone in this. We’ve got your back. And don't worry about getting fired, Jungkook can't afford to look for another candidate right now besides, deep down he knows you are brilliant at what you do and that you are a hard worker.”

Her words were like a balm to my wounded spirit, and as I sat there with her, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I was stronger than I thought.

-

The office was buzzing with murmurs in the aftermath of my confrontation with Tina, but I tried to focus on my work. My chest was still tight, my emotions raw, but I felt an odd sense of relief. Standing up for myself had been terrifying, yet it also felt strangely empowering.

I barely had time to process the relief before a sharp voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Y/N,” Jungkook called from the doorway of his office, his tone clipped. “My office. Now.”

Every pair of eyes in the room shot to me, their gazes heavy with curiosity and judgment. My stomach sank, but I refused to let the anxiety show. With my head held high, I pushed back from my desk and walked toward him, determined not to let him intimidate me anymore.

The door clicked shut behind me, and the room suddenly felt much smaller. Jungkook stood by his desk, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattooed forearms, his dark eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. I saw him wearing a dark suit. However, his jacket was gone and he had his shirt on, black slacks and his tattoos complimented him perfectly. If he wasn't such an ass, I'd have been secretly attracted to him. 

“What’s this I hear about you causing a scene?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He was definitely annoyed with me.

I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze head-on. “You mean standing up for myself? Sorry if that doesn’t fit your idea of acceptable behavior.”

His jaw tightened, and he took a step closer, the space between us shrinking. “This isn’t about acceptable behavior. It’s about keeping your head down and doing your job without making a spectacle of yourself.”

A laugh escaped me, bitter and unrestrained. “Oh, you mean like the way you and your little entourage make a spectacle out of humiliating me every chance you get?”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, the tension in the room shifted, charged with something electric and unspoken.

“Careful, Y/N,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “You’re treading on thin ice.”

I took a step closer, closing the distance between us until I could feel the heat radiating from his body. And his cologne intoxicated me. “And you know what? I don’t care anymore. I’ve had enough of your condescending remarks, your bullying, and your constant need to remind me that I don’t fit into your little world.”

His gaze flicked to my lips, just for a second, but it was enough to make my heart race.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice rough."I have done no such thing. It was to push you so you can get better."

“Are you kidding me?!” I shot back, my voice trembling with anger. “I see the way you look at me, Jungkook. The way you go out of your way to make my life miserable. What is it? Does it make you feel powerful? Or are you just trying to cover up whatever it is you’re really feeling?”

His hand flexed at his side, and for a moment, I thought he might reach for me. But instead, he took a step back, his expression unreadable.

“You’re crossing a line,” he said, his voice tight.

“No,” I said firmly. “I’m finally drawing one.”

The room was silent except for the sound of my own breathing, ragged and uneven. I could feel the weight of his gaze, heavy and unrelenting, but I refused to back down.

“Is that all, Mr. Jeon?” I asked, my voice cold and formal.

His jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Get out.”

I turned on my heel and walked out of the office, my heart pounding in my chest. As the door closed behind me, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of triumph and dread.

Whatever was brewing between Jungkook and me, it was far from over. And something told me it was only going to get more complicated.

I left Jungkook’s office with my heart pounding and my hands trembling. I didn’t know if I felt victorious or terrified, but I couldn’t afford to overanalyze it right now. I just needed to keep my head down and survive the rest of the day.

-

On my way back to my desk after my lunch break, I ducked into the break room to grab a glass of water. I needed at least a second to breathe before I faced the curious stares of my coworkers.

That’s when I heard voices drifting in from the slightly ajar door from one of the closest meeting rooms.

“Man, she really snapped at Tina...” Yoongi’s familiar voice was laced with amusement.

I froze.

“She didn’t just snap,” Yoongi continued with a low chuckle. “She obliterated her. And the best part? She called out Tina’s ridiculous crush on you. In front of everyone. Priceless.”

“Shut up, Yoongi,” Jungkook snapped, his tone sharp.

“Why? It’s true.” Yoongi’s voice grew more teasing. “I’ve never seen Tina look so humiliated. It was a masterpiece, honestly. Someone had to put her in her place eventually.”

“She was out of line,” Jungkook growled.

I inched closer to the door, my heart racing. Were they talking about me?

“Out of line?” Yoongi scoffed. “You’re kidding, right? Tina’s been terrorizing her for weeks. Y/N finally decided she wasn’t going to take it anymore. Honestly, I respect her for it.”

“It’s not her job to cause scenes in the office, besides, you have terrorizing her as well.” Jungkook shot back, his tone cold.

Yoongi laughed, the sound dry and mocking. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you’re mad about the professionalism or whatever excuse you’re clinging to. You’re mad because she stood up to you too. Admit it, Jeon—she caught you off guard. And you hate not being in control. And you also terrorized her. Is that apropriate for a CEO to do?”

There was a brief silence, and then Jungkook’s voice dropped, low and dangerous. “Careful, Yoongi.”

“Why?” Yoongi said, unfazed. “Let’s be real, Jungkook. You’ve been riding her harder than anyone else in this office. And for what? Because she’s not your type? Because she’s not like the other girls who throw themselves at you? Or because she is fat?” Fat. This word made my hands shake. I hated it so much. It was a reminder.

“That’s enough,” Jungkook growled, the edge in his voice enough to make me hold my breath.

“Or maybe,” Yoongi continued, clearly enjoying pushing Jungkook’s buttons, “it’s because she doesn’t give a damn about you? She doesn’t hang on your every word or bat her lashes at you like Tina. She’s not afraid to tell you off, and it’s driving you crazy. She is not attractive at all and you cannot comprehend how come someone who is not pretty not into you?”

“I said that’s enough!” Jungkook’s voice echoed through the room, loud and commanding.

The sudden outburst made me flinch, and I stepped back, my foot scuffing against the floor.

The noise was subtle, but in the silence that followed Jungkook’s shout, it was loud enough to draw attention.

“What was that?” Jungkook’s voice was sharp.

I turned and bolted before either of them could investigate, my heart racing as I slipped back into the main office.

My mind was spinning, replaying the conversation I’d just overheard. Yoongi’s words lingered in my mind, poking at emotions I wasn’t ready to confront.

Jungkook wasn’t mad about professionalism. He wasn’t mad about Tina. He was mad about me.

And that terrified me more than anything else.

-

A few hours after overhearing the heated conversation between Jungkook and Yoongi, my head was a whirlwind of emotions. I couldn't focus on my work at all. I needed air—fresh, cool air that wasn’t tainted by the stifling tension of the office.

The rooftop seemed like the perfect escape. I’d been there once before during lunch, and it was usually deserted.

Pushing open the heavy door, I stepped out into the open, letting the crisp breeze wash over me. The city stretched out in every direction, its sounds muted by the height.

But my solitude was short-lived.

A familiar figure leaned against the railing, a cigarette between his fingers. Yoongi.

He glanced at me over his shoulder, one brow quirking in surprise. “Didn’t think you’d be the rooftop type.”

I crossed my arms, irritation bubbling to the surface. “And I didn’t think you’d be the smoking type. Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

He smirked, taking a long drag of his cigarette before exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. “Touché. So, what brings you up here? Trying to escape the circus downstairs?”

I took a few steps closer, my frustration from earlier finding a new target. “If by circus you mean you and Jungkook, then yeah. Congratulations, you two are the ringleaders.”

Yoongi let out a low chuckle, the sound grating against my nerves. “Ah, so you heard us.”

“Hard not to when you’re practically shouting,” I snapped. “Though I’m sure you both figured no one would dare eavesdrop on the great CEO and his sidekick.”

He turned to face me fully, leaning back against the railing. His sharp features were illuminated by the city lights, giving him an almost ethereal, dangerous look. “Careful, Y/N. You’re sounding pretty bold for someone who usually keeps her head down.”

I took another step closer, my anger pushing me forward. “Bold? You think this is bold? No, Yoongi. Bold is bullying someone for no good reason. Bold is turning the office into a soap opera just because you can’t act like an adult.”

His smirk faltered, replaced by a flash of something darker. He took a step toward me, closing the distance between us.

“You don’t know me,” he said, his voice low and cutting.

“And I don’t care to,” I shot back, though my voice wavered slightly.

We were close now, too close. The air between us was charged, a volatile mix of anger and something unspoken. His gaze locked onto mine, unyielding and intense, and I refused to back down.

“Let me guess,” I continued, my voice shaking with both rage and nerves. “You’re just another overgrown man-child who thinks the world owes him something. Smoking on the rooftop, making snarky comments—what’s next? Brooding poetry about how misunderstood you are?”

He tilted his head, his smirk returning, though it carried a dangerous edge. “You’ve got a mouth on you, Y/N. Didn’t think you had it in you to snap twice in one day.”

“Yeah, well, you and your buddy Jungkook seem to bring out the worst in me,” I bit out.

Yoongi stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But don’t think for a second that you can figure me out with your little insults. You should look at yourself in the mirror.”

“Figure you out?” I laughed bitterly. “I don’t want to figure you out, Yoongi. Trust me, I know who I am, I look at myself in the mirror everyday. What about you? Do you know who you are?" there was a pause." Leave me the hell alone.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Then why are you still standing here?”

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. His words hung in the air, heavy and taunting. I hated the way he got under my skin, the way his presence seemed to pull at something deep and unwanted inside me.

“Because someone needs to tell you off as well,” I said finally, though my voice lacked the conviction it had moments ago.

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “You’re cute when you’re mad, Y/N. But if you think you can scare me off, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

I glared at him, refusing to let him see how his words affected me. “Enjoy your rooftop melodrama.”

I turned on my heel, marching back toward the door. But as I reached for the handle, his voice stopped me.

“Y/N.”

I glanced back, my hand hovering over the door.

“You’re stronger than you think,” he said, his tone softer, almost contemplative.

I didn’t know how to respond, so I said nothing. Instead, I pushed open the door and walked back into the stairwell, his words following me like a shadow.

[natsaffection]

Auge um Auge pt. 3 | N.R.

Investigator!older!Natasha x Robber!younger! reader

Warnings: Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22) steamy tension, Natasha being overall cute

Word count: 5,9k

A/n: I love writing love confessions..🫂👀

The heist had already been ongoing for a few days, and the tension between the robbers and the police had become unbearable. The professor had anticipated the police’s response and had tasked you with laying the groundwork for the next step: infiltrating the police’s command network with a cleverly disguised trap.

Using your hacking skills, you had inserted malicious code into the police communication network. The code caused intermittent failures in critical systems like surveillance cameras, encrypted communication channels, and tactical coordination tools. It wasn’t a complete blackout, but it created enough chaos to leave the police scrambling for solutions.

“They’ll think it’s a sophisticated hack.” the professor had said. “And when they realize their own tech team can’t fix it, they’ll seek outside help. That’s where you come in.” You had smiled, though your stomach churned with nerves. “What if they don’t take the bait?” The professor had adjusted his glasses, his voice calm. “Trust me, they will. You’ve done good groundwork, and Natasha will bite.”

Officers shouted over each other, screens blinked with error messages, and the air was thick with rising panic. The robbers had taken over multiple police systems, rerouted communication channels, and disrupted surveillance feeds. Worse, they had fed the unit targeted misinformation, nearly leading to a catastrophic operation that left officers in complete disarray.

Maria sat at the central workstation, her jaw clenched as she desperately tried to regain control. “It’s like they’re toying with us..” she muttered, staring at the corrupted data streams on her screen. “They know exactly where to hit us. Natasha stood nearby, her arms tightly crossed. “How bad is it?”

“They’ve locked us out of certain areas of our own system.” Maria said sharply. “And their encryption? It’s not standard. It feels almost..experimental. Natasha frowned. “Can you crack it?” Maria paused, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, then exhaled sharply. “Maybe. But not fast enough. They’re three steps ahead, and we don’t have time to lose.” Natasha hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Then we need someone who thinks like them.”Maria turned to her, narrowing her eyes. “What are you suggesting?”

“I know someone who could help us.” Natasha said cautiously. “A civilian. Brilliant with tech, unpredictable, exactly the type of person who could mirror the robbers’ creativity.” Maria’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A civilian? You can’t be serious, Natasha. This isn’t some neighborhood dispute, this is a high-risk, top operation. And you want to bring in someone off the street?”

“She’s not just ‘anyone.’” Natasha countered firmly. “I trust her.” Maria scoffed. “And that’s supposed to reassure me? I trust you, Natasha, but this? You want to involve an outsider in our operation?”

“We’re already exposed!” Natasha snapped, her voice rising. “They’ve hacked our systems, locked us out, and led us straight into a trap. We can’t keep doing the same thing and expect different results.” Maria folded her arms. “And you think your civilian will magically solve everything?”

“I think she’s our best chance.” Natasha said. “Maria, you’re the best there is, but even you said this isn’t standard. This encryption? It’s personal. We need someone who thinks like the person who designed it.” An officer hurried over to Maria with a report. “Ma’am, they’ve breached the surveillance network in the eastern quadrant. We’re blind.”

Maria slammed her hands on the table and cursed under her breath. “Damn it.” Natasha stepped closer. “We don’t have time to debate this. You need help, Maria. And you know it.” Maria stared at her. “Even if I agreed, why her? Why would she agree to this?” Natasha hesitated, her jaw tightening. “Because she’s already involved.” Maria frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She’s the one who gave us the tip about the camera.” Natasha admitted. “She’s brilliant, completely unassuming, but she knows things. I think- no, I know she’s exactly the type of person who could have designed this encryption herself.” Maria shook her head. “You’re taking a huge risk.”

Natasha’s voice softened. “If this fails, it’s my responsibility. But if we don’t try, we’ll lose this fight. And we can’t afford that.” Maria sighed and rubbed her temples. “Fine. But if this backfires, you’re the one taking the fall.”

Natasha found you in your usual spot at the café, your laptop open and your fingers flying across the keyboard. You paused when you saw her approaching, your eyes widening slightly. “This is becoming a habit..” you said with a nervous laugh. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

Natasha dropped into the chair across from you, her expression serious. “I don’t have time chatting this time, we need your help.” You tilted your head, trying to look confused. “With what?”Natasha leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. “My team’s systems have been compromised. Surveillance feeds, encrypted communication..they’ve all been affected by some sort of evolving encryption. We can’t crack it.” You raised an intrigued eyebrow. “And you think I can?”

“You’ve already proven you can.” Natasha said firmly. “The sniper incident..if it weren’t for you, we’d have walked right into an ambush. You see things my team doesn’t, and I’m not too proud to admit it.” You tried to appear hesitant. She’s taken the bait. “Natasha, I’m just a freelancer..I’ve never worked on anything of this scale before.”

“I trust you.” Natasha said, her voice steady. “And I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.” You swallowed, the sincerity in Natasha’s eyes tightening something in your chest. Stick to the plan, you reminded yourself. Finally, you nodded. “Okay, I’ll help.”

You entered the command tent under Natasha’s watchful eye, feeling the weight of every officer’s gaze on you. Maria was waiting at the workstation, her expression skeptical but resigned. “You must be Y/n.” Maria said, gesturing toward the monitors. “Show us what you can do.”

The professor’s words echoed in your head: “Stay calm. You’re one of them now. Look nervous, but not too nervous. Don’t let their chaos overwhelm you, control it.” But as you ventured deeper into the tent, it became harder to ignore the efficiency and organization of the police. Large maps of the bank were spread across tables, officers compared information, and intercepted radio transmissions flashed on the screens.

Your eyes landed on a monitor, and your breath caught. Names. Two names. Tokyo. Rio. The police had already identified two members of the crew. You froze for a moment, your thoughts racing. How? How could they already know their names? And why didn’t you know about this?

Natasha noticed your hesitation and approached with a clipboard in hand. “Y/n?” she said, her tone firm but not unfriendly. “Is everything okay?” You blinked and snapped out of your daze. Forcing a small smile onto your face, you said, “Yeah, sorry. It’s just..a lot.” Natasha’s eyes softened slightly. “It’s overwhelming, I know. You’re walking into a warzone here, and this isn’t an easy place to be.”

You nodded quickly, doing your best to play the role of an overwhelmed civilian. “It’s just..I didn’t expect it to be this serious. Seeing all of this..” Natasha gave you a reassuring smile. “You’re doing great. Just focus on your part. We’ll handle the rest.” You nodded again, but your stomach churned. Your nerves weren’t entirely an act anymore. The reality of standing in the enemy’s camp, surrounded by people working tirelessly to unravel the professor’s plan, hit you harder than you’d anticipated.

You sat down at a workstation, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed. You had to stay on course, complete your task without raising suspicion. But your thoughts kept drifting back to the screens with Tokyo and Rio’s names. If they were already so close to those two, how much longer before they found the rest? Natasha stood nearby, her presence both comforting and unsettling. You could feel her watchful gaze on you, her concern growing with every passing second. “You’re doing great.” Natasha said quietly, crouching beside you.

You forced a weak smile, your voice shaky. “Thanks.”The professor had arranged a distraction inside the bank, chaos that was meant to make your role as a nervous civilian more believable. The crew was supposed to fire shots into the air, throwing the police into panic and creating the perfect diversion for you to finish your task. But you were so lost in your own thoughts that you’d completely forgotten about the plan. When the sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the tent’s speakers, you flinched violently, your eyes widening in genuine fear.

Natasha frowned, her expression sharp. “Shots fired inside the bank!” she said grimly, grabbing a radio. “We need visuals on the situation, now!” Your heart raced, your mind screaming at you to get a grip. It’s the plan. It’s part of the plan. But the sound of the gunfire had shaken you to your core. You were too close to the enemy, too exposed. For the first time, the weight of what you were doing, the danger you were in hit you fully. Natasha noticed your trembling hands and pale face. “Hey..” she said gently, stepping closer. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

“I..I’m sorry..” you stammered, your voice breaking. “I just…it startled me, that’s all.” Natasha’s expression softened, her concern deepening. “This isn’t something most people are prepared for.” she said quietly. “You’re doing more than we could ever ask of you. But if it’s too much, you can stop. No one would blame you.”

“No.” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I can do this. I just need..a minute.” Natasha hesitated, then nodded. “Take all the time you need.” As you tried to steady your breathing, Natasha watched you closely, her own thoughts racing. She admired your bravery. Walking into such a dangerous situation as a civilian was no small feat. You looked up and caught Natasha watching you. “What?”

“Nothing.” Natasha said quickly, forcing a small smile. “I…I just admire your courage.” You blinked, surprised. “Courage?” Natasha nodded. “Most people wouldn’t put themselves in a situation like this. You could’ve said no when I asked. But you didn’t. That says a lot about you.” You swallowed hard, guilt churning in your stomach. “Thank you..” you murmured, turning your gaze away.

Eventually, you regained your composure, finished your task, and planted the necessary code into the police’s system. But as you left the tent, Natasha’s words echoed in your mind. “You could’ve said no. But you didn’t.” You had just led Natasha directly into the trap, exactly as the professor had planned. But for the first time, you began to wonder if the cost of the plan was too high. Your hands hovered over the keyboard as you pressed the final key, and the tent filled with the sound of systems coming back online. The previously chaotic screens now displayed a smoothly functioning network.

Natasha, standing nearby, let out a deep breath, visibly relieved. “You did it.” she said, her voice full of genuine admiration. You forced a small smile, but inside, your heart was racing. The professor’s instructions had been clear: “Plant the backdoor. Subtly, cleanly. Once you’re out, we’ll have access to everything.” That’s exactly what you’d done. The professor now had ears inside the tent, but you couldn’t let your relief show on your face.

Natasha approached, placing a hand on your shoulder. “That was incredible work, Y/n. I don’t know how you did it.”

“I’m just glad I could help.” you said, trying to sound humble. Quickly, you packed up your laptop, eager to escape the suffocating tension in the tent. As you slung your bag over your shoulder, Natasha stepped in front of you, her green eyes softer. “You’ve been through a lot today..” she said. “More than anyone in your position should have to.” You looked around nervously. “I’m fine.”

Natasha frowned slightly. “I don’t think you are.” She paused, her voice turning gentler. “How about some fresh air? A walk. After all this, you could use a distraction.” You hesitated. You weren’t sure if being alone with Natasha was a good idea. But her gaze was honest, her concern disarming. Finally, you nodded. “Okay.”

Natasha smiled and led you out of the tent. The two of you walked along a quiet path in a nearby park, the tension of the command tent slowly fading behind you. The fresh air was a stark contrast to the stifling heat of the tent, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Natasha studied you for a moment, her gaze softening. “You’re braver than you give yourself credit for.”

You looked away, guilt twisting in your chest. You wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth, you thought. You stopped at a bench near a cluster of trees, the calm of the night settling around you. Natasha sat down and gestured for you to join her. For a moment, silence reigned, broken only by distant sirens and rustling leaves. “You were really scared in there..” Natasha said quietly, turning to you. You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Finally, you nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “Hearing those gunshots…it was real. I’ve never been that close to something so…dangerous.”

Natasha’s expression softened further. “You never get used to it.” she admitted. “But it’s also not something you should have to go through.” You looked at her, the genuine concern in her eyes tightening something in your chest. “Why do you care so much?” you asked before you could stop yourself. Natasha blinked, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” You hesitated. ��You barely know me. But you’re going out of your way to make sure I’m okay.” Natasha’s gaze dropped for a moment before meeting yours again, her expression unreadable. “Because I see that you’re a good person.” she said simply. “And because I’ve been where you are, thrown into something I didn’t ask for, feeling like I had to prove myself.”

As the two of you continued walking, the conversation grew more relaxed. Natasha shared stories about the less glamorous parts of her job, staking out warehouses in freezing temperatures, dealing with endless bureaucracy, and the time an overeager recruit accidentally locked her in a supply closet. You laughed despite yourself, the tension in your chest easing for the first time in hours. “You make it sound so… glamorous.”

Natasha grinned. “Oh, it’s every little girl’s dream. Dodging bullets, endless paperwork, terrible coffee. What more could you want?” You shook your head, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “I can’t believe you’re actually human.” Natasha raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “Don’t let that get out. I have a reputation to maintain.” By the time you returned to the tent, you felt more at ease but also more conflicted. Natasha’s kindness and humor had broken through your defenses, leaving you questioning your role in the heist.

As Natasha held the tent flap open for you, she smiled. “You were amazing today, Y/n. Really.” You nodded, your throat tight. “Thanks. I… you know where to find me.”

————————————————————————

The bell above the café door jingled, pulling you back to the present. It was already late at night, and you were back in your usual corner. Her shift had gone on longer than you’d expected…You glanced up casually, expecting another late-night coffee addict. Instead, your eyes narrowed slightly when you recognized the woman who walked in.

Maria.

You remembered her from the command tent. Sharp and authoritative, someone who missed no details. What was she doing here at this hour? Your curiosity flared as Maria approached the counter, ordered a coffee, and then sat in a secluded corner. Her posture was casual, but you noticed her eyes scanning the room, as if assessing potential threats..or watching someone.

You barely paid Maria any attention until she pulled out her phone and dialed a number. Something about her body language shifted..relaxed, but not entirely. Whoever was on the other end was clearly someone she trusted. Ever the opportunist, you opened your laptop and connected to the café’s public Wi-Fi. A few quick keystrokes later, you intercepted Maria’s phone signal. A faint hum played through your headphones as you tapped into the call..curiosity had won. The connection stabilized, and a voice came through that made your breath hitch.

Natasha.

“Hey..” Natasha said, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Hey…” Maria replied warmly. “Still in?”

“Yep…” Natasha sighed with a light laugh. Your fingers froze on the keyboard. What the hell? You hadn’t expected a private, casual conversation. You should disconnect. You should. But your curiosity burned too brightly. A pause followed, a familiar silence that hinted at a shared history. You frowned slightly and leaned closer to your screen.

“How are things? We haven’t really had time to talk lately.” Natasha asked, her voice quieter now.

“Well… I miss it, honestly…talking to you all the time, I mean. It feels like old times.” Maria replied.

Natasha didn’t respond immediately, and you heard the faint sound of her shifting in her chair. “Maria…”

Maria chuckled softly. “Relax, Nat. I’m not trying to stir anything up. I just wanted to check on you.”

An uneasy feeling churned in your stomach. You knew you were intruding on something deeply personal, but you couldn’t stop listening.

“I noticed something today..” Maria began cautiously but firmly. “That girl you brought into the tent…You’re spending quite a bit of time with her. And guess who’s sitting a few tables away from me?” A pause followed before Natasha answered, her voice sharper. “Wait…”

“She’s here. Midnight. Alone.” Natasha’s sharp intake of breath was audible. “You can see her?”

“Yes.” Maria said, her tone softening. “And before you say anything-no, I’m not going to approach her. I’m just trying to understand why she’s so important to you.”

“What?” Natasha began, but her voice faltered. She exhaled sharply, her tone shifting. “Maria, she’s been through a lot today.” Natasha said quietly. “And she’s helping us.”

“She’s helping you.” Maria corrected, her voice gentle but firm. “You brought her into the team. You’re the one spending all this time with her.”

Natasha sighed softly, almost as if she’d expected this. “Can we stop talking about this? I know where this is going…”

Maria’s voice softened. “Fine. Then I’ll just ask outright. Do you want to sleep with her?”

You choked on your coffee, quickly covering your mouth to avoid drawing attention to yourself. You glanced at Maria, who was still sitting calmly, completely unaware of the chaos she’d just caused. “Maria, seriously-”

“You’re not denying it…” Maria teased, her tone playful.

Your first instinct was to disconnect, but your hand hovered over the keyboard, frozen. This is too much. I shouldn’t be listening…But your curiosity won out. You leaned back slightly, guilt rising in your chest. I shouldn’t be here. But… I want to know…

A long pause followed. Natasha exhaled slowly. “You’re using the wrong word.”

“What do you mean?” Maria asked, confused.

“‘Sleep.’” Natasha said, her voice quieter now. “That sounds like a one-night stand. Like something meaningless.”

Maria chuckled softly, though it sounded sad. “And you want more than that?”

“Yeah..why not.” Natasha admitted, her voice steady but vulnerable. “If I were with her, it wouldn’t just be that. She’s not someone you just ‘sleep’ with.”

Your head spun, Natasha’s words echoing in your mind. She doesn’t want something meaningless. She wants… something more? Your heart fluttered, and a nervous laugh bubbled up in your throat. She’s not someone you just sleep with. Those words felt both impossibly heavy and surprisingly light. You clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle a grin. Stop acting like a teenager! This isn’t normal! But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the warmth spreading through your chest, or the guilt of eavesdropping on something so personal.

“Just be careful, Nat…” Maria said quietly. “That kind of trust is hard to earn. And if you’re not careful, it’ll hurt both of you.”

“I know.” Natasha replied, her voice firm but tinged with emotion. “Thanks for caring, Maria. But I’ve got this.”

Maria sighed, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. “Goodnight, Natasha.”

“Goodnight.” Natasha said, and the line went dead.

The connection ended, leaving you sitting there, completely stunned. You leaned back in your chair, staring at your laptop as if it might explode at any moment. Your cheeks burned, and your mind raced, replaying Natasha’s hesitant “Yeah..why not” over and over. What the hell just happened? you thought, running a hand through your hair. You’d hacked into Maria’s phone for a tactical advantage, not…whatever this was!

Natasha Romanoff wants to be with me?

Your thoughts shattered as Maria stood up and began walking toward you. You froze, your breath catching. She knows. She figured it out! I’m done for. Maria stopped at your table, her sharp eyes studying you closely. You gripped the edge of your laptop, your heart pounding so loudly you thought it might burst. “Everything okay?” Maria asked, her voice softer than you’d expected. “You’re here alone at midnight. That’s…unusual.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “I’m fine!” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “I…I’m just working.” Maria studied you for a moment longer, then nodded. “Alright. Take care of yourself.” She turned and walked away, leaving you frozen in place, your head still spinning.

Meanwhile the activity in the command tent began to wind down for the night. Officers moved between desks, and the soft hum of conversations filled the air. Natasha leaned against a table scattered with files, her arms crossed as she studied the timeline of the heist on the main screen. Yet her thoughts weren’t entirely on the case. Maria’s words from earlier replayed in her mind, “She’s here. At midnight. Alone. I’m just trying to understand why she’s so important to you.”

Natasha sighed quietly, running a hand through her hair. Maria wasn’t wrong. You were always alone, and Natasha couldn’t shake the image of you sitting in that café, typing on your laptop as if you had nowhere else to be. It unsettled her in a way she couldn’t fully explain, and Maria’s direct question only made it worse.

“Why is she so important to you?”

Natasha pushed off the table as the commander signaled the end of the shift for the night. It was late, and most of the team members were heading home. Normally, Natasha would stay longer, but tonight she felt the urge to leave. You listened through your earpiece and when you heard the commander announce the end of the shift, you exhaled in relief. Finally. Natasha was leaving the tent, which meant you could leave too.

You started packing your things, sliding your laptop into your bag as you prepared to leave. The familiar chime of the doorbell froze you mid-motion. Your heart sank as you saw who had just walked in. Natasha stepped into the café, her eyes scanning the room quickly before landing on you. Her expression softened slightly as she approached, her movements deliberate but calm.

You froze, your bag only half-closed. Your heart pounded as Natasha closed the distance between you, her presence overwhelming even in casual clothes. “Hi.” Natasha said, her voice warm but tinged with concern. You forced a smile, trying to keep your voice steady. “Natasha? What are you doing here?” Natasha slid into the seat across from you, propping her elbows on the table. “I could ask you the same thing. I just got off work. Thought I’d check on you.”

“Again?” you laughed, your nervousness slipping into your tone. Natasha tilted her head slightly, studying you. “You’re always here late. Alone. That doesn’t seem right to me.” You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the table. She’s noticed. She’s been paying attention.. “I…I like working at night. I’m fine, really.” you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly. Natasha raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “That’s the second time you’ve said that. Are you sure that’s the only reason?”

You hesitated, your mind racing. What does she want me to say? You looked down at your hands, fiddling nervously with your bag strap. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do.” Natasha said gently. “It’s midnight. Most people your age are either at home or out with friends. Why are you always here?” Your chest tightened. Natasha’s tone wasn’t accusatory. It was gentle, caring, and that made it even harder to deflect. You felt the weight of her gaze, the genuine concern in her eyes. “I… I just like it here.” you mumbled, avoiding her gaze. “It’s nothing.”

Natasha sighed, leaning back slightly. “I’m not trying to pry. But you shouldn’t be here alone so late.” You looked at her, your stomach twisting. She thinks I’m alone because I have no one. She’s not entirely wrong, but the real reason is so much more complicated.. “Come with me.” Natasha said suddenly, her voice soft but firm. You blinked, your eyes widening. “W-What?”

“Come with me.” Natasha repeated, her gaze steady. “To my place. You shouldn’t be here alone this late.” Your heart raced, panic rising in your chest. Go with her? To her place? I can’t. You shook your head quickly, your voice stumbling. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

“Why not?” Natasha asked, her tone calm but insistent. “You’ll be safe. You can bring your work if you want. But I don’t want to leave you here.”

“I..” You hesitated, your mind spiraling. What if she’s testing me? What if it’s a trap? Natasha leaned across the table, her hand brushing yours lightly. “Please..” she said softly. “I’ll feel better knowing you’re somewhere safe.” You stared at her, the sincerity in Natasha’s voice making your chest ache. She doesn’t know. She has no idea who I really am. She’s just…worried. “Okay..” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’ll come with you.”

Natasha’s apartment was exactly what you’d expected..minimalistic yet elegant, with clean lines and an undeniable sense of order. The open-concept living room was softly lit, a bottle of red wine sat on the counter, and the faint scent of cedar lingered in the air. The space felt personal yet guarded, much like the woman herself.

You stood awkwardly near the couch, unsure of where to put your hands or your thoughts. This wasn’t where you’d ever imagined yourself, and the thought of what might happen here made your stomach twist with nerves. Natasha, however, seemed completely at ease, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it casually onto a nearby chair. “Make yourself comfortable.” she said, her voice calm yet warm, catching you off guard. “Want something to drink?”

“Uh…no, thanks.” you replied quickly, your nerves making you sound more jittery than you intended. Natasha glanced over her shoulder at you, her lips quirking into a small, knowing smile. “Relax. I don’t bite.” You managed a weak laugh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “That’s…good to know.”

Natasha chuckled softly as she settled onto the couch with a grace that seemed effortless. She grabbed the remote and gestured for you to join her. “Come on. Sit. I thought we could watch something.” You hesitated for a moment before walking over and sinking into the cushion next to her. Not too close, but not too far. Natasha noticed and smiled to herself but said nothing.

“What do you want to watch?” she asked, scrolling through streaming options. “Action? Comedy? Something completely ridiculous?” You shrugged, trying to focus on her question instead of the growing tension in your chest. “Something light, I guess. Nothing too intense.”

“Alright.” Natasha said, selecting a movie and setting the remote aside. She leaned back, draping her arm over the back of the couch, close enough for you to feel the faint warmth of her skin. The movie started, the sound filling the quiet space, but you found it hard to focus on the screen.

Fifteen minutes in, you were acutely aware of every detail about Natasha..her presence, her proximity, the subtle scent of her perfume. She sat close enough that her arm occasionally brushed yours, and you felt her gaze on you now and then. You tried to concentrate on the movie, but your thoughts kept wandering. Why had she invited you here? Was this just her way of unwinding, or was there something..more? The possibility made your heart race.

Then you felt it…her hand on your shoulder. At first, it was a light touch that could’ve been accidental. But then her fingers curled slightly, her palm resting firmly on your shoulder, and you realized it wasn’t a mistake. You froze slightly, your breath hitching. Natasha noticed immediately. “You look like you’re waiting for something to explode.” You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “Maybe I am.” Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. “It’s just me. You don’t have to be so tense.”

Just her. That was the problem. It wasn’t just her! It was her. Natasha Romanoff: sharp, confident, undeniably alluring. You had no idea how you’d ended up here, in her apartment, watching a movie, feeling like the ground beneath you had completely shifted. “I know.” you murmured, trying to steady your voice. “I… just…”

Natasha leaned closer, her hand sliding from your shoulder lightly down your arm. “I’m not going to do anything you’re not comfortable with. You know that, right?” You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Of course!” For a moment, neither of you spoke, the sound of the movie filling the space between you. The way she looked at you, with a mix of amusement and something warmer, softer made your breath catch. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “I’m not good at this.” Natasha tilted her head, her smile returning. “Not good at what?”

“This..” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Being here. With you. It’s…I don’t know. You make it hard to think straight.” For a moment, Natasha just stared at you, and you felt your cheeks heat. But then she laughed, a soft, genuine laugh that made your stomach flip. “That’s cute.” she said, her tone carrying a playful edge. “You’re nervous.”

“I’m not-” you began, but the look she gave you stopped your denial mid-sentence. “Okay, maybe a little.” Natasha’s smile softened. “Why?” she asked, her voice quiet but genuinely curious. “Why does this make you nervous?” You hesitated, your heart racing as you searched for the right words. “Because…it’s you..” you finally admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “You’re…I don’t know. You’re intimidating. I-In a good way! And I don’t exactly have a lot of experience with…this kind of thing.” Natasha leaned forward slightly, resting her elbow on the back of the couch as she turned toward you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure..” you said, trying not to sound as nervous as you felt. “Why does this make you so uneasy?” she asked gently, her voice devoid of teasing now. “Is it exactly me? Or…something else?” You hesitated, your heart pounding as you considered your answer. “It’s not you..” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “It’s…I guess it’s just that this feels… different.”

“Different how?” Natasha pressed, though her tone remained careful, as if she didn’t want to push too hard. “Like… I don’t know!! Like it matters..” you admitted, your cheeks flushing. “And that scares me.” Natasha’s expression softened further, her gaze searching yours. “I don’t want to scare you.” she said quietly. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“You don’t.” you said quickly. “It’s just…I don’t really know what I’m doing here.” Natasha studied you for a long moment, as if weighing her next move carefully. Then she spoke, her voice low and steady. “Would you tell me if I did something that made you uncomfortable?” You nodded. “Of course.”

“Okay.” Natasha said, exhaling softly. She shifted slightly closer, her hand resting gently on the back of the couch. “Because I want to kiss you. But only if you want me to.” Your breath caught, her words sending a wave of nervous excitement through you. You stared at her, your heart racing as you processed what she’d said. “I’ve never-” Natasha cut in gently, her tone steady. “It’s okay. We don’t have to.”

But something in her patience, in the way she didn’t push or demand, made you take a shaky breath and nod. “I think I want to..” you said softly. Natasha didn’t move immediately, her eyes staying locked on yours. “You’re sure?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“Yes.” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly but sincere. Only then did she lean in, her movements slow and deliberate, giving you every opportunity to change your mind. When her lips finally met yours, it was soft, so soft that it left you breathless. Her hand cupped your cheek gently, her thumb brushing against your skin as if to steady you.

The kiss was unhurried, warm, and filled with a tenderness that surprised you. You felt yourself relax into it, your nervousness melting away as you kissed her back. Natasha pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, her forehead resting lightly against yours. “You okay?” she asked softly. You nodded, a small, shy smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah..” Her lips curved into a smile of her own, and she pressed a brief, tender kiss to your forehead. “Good.” she murmured. She leaned in again, her hand remained on your cheek. The connection was both electrifying and calming, as if nothing else in the world mattered except for this.

But just as the kiss began to deepen, Natasha pulled back slightly, resting her forehead against yours. Her breath was warm, and her voice was soft but resolute. “We should stop..” she said gently. You opened your eyes, looking at her. “Why?”

Natasha gave you a faint smile, her fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “Because you’ve had a long day. And because I don’t want this to feel rushed. For either of us.” You bit your lip, your cheeks heating again. “You think I’m not ready?”

“I think you’re nervous.” Natasha replied honestly. “And I don’t want you to feel like we have to go anywhere tonight. We don’t.” Her words felt like a weight lifting off your chest. She wasn’t angry, wasn’t pressuring you, she was giving you space, something you hadn’t even realized you needed. “Thank you.” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Natasha tilted her head, her smile softening. “For what?”

“For being patient with me.” you admitted, your cheeks flushing again. Her smile grew softer still, and she pressed a brief, tender kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest.” she said quietly. “You’ve earned it.” Natasha stood, walking into the kitchen and pouring you a glass of water. After a moment, she returned and set it on the coffee table in front of you. “You can take the bed.” she said as she settled back onto the couch. “I’ll sleep here.” Your eyes widened. “What? No! This is your apartment.”

“Exactly.” Natasha replied with a playful glint in her eye. “And I’m saying you take the bed. No arguments.” You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been called worse..” Natasha said with a smirk. The playful exchange eased your nerves further, and you found yourself smiling as you stood and stretched. “Fine. But if you wake up with a sore neck, don’t blame me.” Natasha laughed, her gaze following you as you headed toward the bedroom door. “Goodnight.” she said softly.

You paused in the doorway, glancing back at her. “Goodnight, Natasha.” As you stepped into the bedroom and closed the door behind you, you let out a shaky breath. Your heart was still racing, and your mind replayed the kiss over and over, but there was also a warmth in your chest, a quiet comfort in knowing she understood. That she wasn’t rushing you or asking for more than you were ready to give. You lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling with a small smile on your lips. You hadn’t expected any of this, hadn’t seen it coming..but maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t as terrifying as you’d thought..