#Test Automation Challenges

[softweb-solutions]

Discover how AI and ML are revolutionizing test automation with advancements like self-healing scripts and intelligent test generation. Learn strategies for effective implementation and solutions for overcoming challenges.

[intelliatech]

Top 10 ChatGPT Prompts For Software Developers

ChatGPT can do a lot more than just code creation and this blog post is going to be all about that. We have curated a list of ChatGPT prompts that will help software developers with their everyday tasks. ChatGPT can respond to questions and can compose codes making it a very helpful tool for software engineers.

While this AI tool can help developers with the entire SDLC (Software Development Lifecycle), it is important to understand how to use the prompts effectively for different needs.

Prompt engineering gives users accurate results. Since ChatGPT accepts prompts, we receive more precise answers. But a lot depends on how these prompts are formulated. 

To Get The Best Out Of ChatGPT, Your Prompts Should Be:

Clear and well-defined. The more detailed your prompts, the better suggestions you will receive from ChatGPT.

Specify the functionality and programming language. Not specifying what you exactly need might not give you the desired results.

Phrase your prompts in a natural language, as if asking someone for help. This will make ChatGPT understand your problem better and give more relevant outputs.

Avoid unnecessary information and ambiguity. Keep it not only to the point but also inclusive of all important details.

Top ChatGPT Prompts For Software Developers

Let’s quickly have a look at some of the best ChatGPT prompts to assist you with various stages of your Software development lifecycle.

1. For Practicing SQL Commands;

2. For Becoming A Programming Language Interpreter;

3. For Creating Regular Expressions Since They Help In Managing, Locating, And Matching Text.

4. For Generating Architectural Diagrams For Your Software Requirements.

Prompt Examples: I want you to act as a Graphviz DOT generator, an expert to create meaningful diagrams. The diagram should have at least n nodes (I specify n in my input by writing [n], 10 being the default value) and to be an accurate and complex representation of the given input. Each node is indexed by a number to reduce the size of the output, should not include any styling, and with layout=neato, overlap=false, node [shape=rectangle] as parameters. The code should be valid, bugless and returned on a single line, without any explanation. Provide a clear and organized diagram, the relationships between the nodes have to make sense for an expert of that input. My first diagram is: “The water cycle [8]”.  

5. For Solving Git Problems And Getting Guidance On Overcoming Them.

Prompt Examples: “Explain how to resolve this Git merge conflict: [conflict details].” 6. For Code generation- ChatGPT can help generate a code based on descriptions given by you. It can write pieces of codes based on the requirements given in the input. Prompt Examples: -Write a program/function to {explain functionality} in {programming language} -Create a code snippet for checking if a file exists in Python. -Create a function that merges two lists into a dictionary in JavaScript.  

7. For Code Review And Debugging: ChatGPT Can Review Your Code Snippet And Also Share Bugs.

Prompt Examples: -Here’s a C# code snippet. The function is supposed to return the maximum value from the given list, but it’s not returning the expected output. Can you identify the problem? [Enter your code here] -Can you help me debug this error message from my C# program: [error message] -Help me debug this Python script that processes a list of objects and suggests possible fixes. [Enter your code here]

8. For Knowing The Coding Best Practices And Principles: It Is Very Important To Be Updated With Industry’s Best Practices In Coding. This Helps To Maintain The Codebase When The Organization Grows.

Prompt Examples: -What are some common mistakes to avoid when writing code? -What are the best practices for security testing? -Show me best practices for writing {concept or function} in {programming language}.  

9. For Code Optimization: ChatGPT Can Help Optimize The Code And Enhance Its Readability And Performance To Make It Look More Efficient.

Prompt Examples: -Optimize the following {programming language} code which {explain the functioning}: {code snippet} -Suggest improvements to optimize this C# function: [code snippet] -What are some strategies for reducing memory usage and optimizing data structures? 

10. For Creating Boilerplate Code: ChatGPT Can Help In Boilerplate Code Generation.

Prompt Examples: -Create a basic Java Spring Boot application boilerplate code. -Create a basic Python class boilerplate code

11. For Bug Fixes: Using ChatGPT Helps Fixing The Bugs Thus Saving A Large Chunk Of Time In Software Development And Also Increasing Productivity.

Prompt Examples: -How do I fix the following {programming language} code which {explain the functioning}? {code snippet} -Can you generate a bug report? -Find bugs in the following JavaScript code: (enter code)  

12. Code Refactoring- ChatGPt Can Refactor The Code And Reduce Errors To Enhance Code Efficiency, Thus Making It Easier To Modify In The Future.

Prompt Examples –What are some techniques for refactoring code to improve code reuse and promote the use of design patterns? -I have duplicate code in my project. How can I refactor it to eliminate redundancy?  

13. For Choosing Deployment Strategies- ChatGPT Can Suggest Deployment Strategies Best Suited For A Particular Project And To Ensure That It Runs Smoothly.

Prompt Examples -What are the best deployment strategies for this software project? {explain the project} -What are the best practices for version control and release management?  

14. For Creating Unit Tests- ChatGPT Can Write Test Cases For You

Prompt Examples: -How does test-driven development help improve code quality? -What are some best practices for implementing test-driven development in a project? These were some prompt examples for you that we sourced on the basis of different requirements a developer can have. So whether you have to generate a code or understand a concept, ChatGPT can really make a developer’s life by doing a lot of tasks. However, it certainly comes with its own set of challenges and cannot always be completely correct. So it is advisable to cross-check the responses. Hope this helps. Visit us- Intelliatech

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[seoperfectqa]

Automation testing is a powerful technique that enhances the efficiency, accuracy, and coverage of the software testing process. However, it comes with its own set of challenges that can impact the effectiveness of the testing process. By understanding and addressing these automation testing challenges, organizations can develop effective strategies to overcome them and ensure successful automation testing implementations. Leveraging best practices and robust frameworks can significantly enhance the quality and reliability of automated tests, leading to higher-quality software products and a more efficient development lifecycle.

[automationqa]

Dive into the Future of Automation Testing! 🚀📊 Uncover the Market Insights for Customized Automation Testing – from size and trends to challenges and projections.

Let's explore what the future holds for automated testing! 💡🌐

[th3mrskory]

Lessons in Desire

Pairing: fem!Reader x Professor!Logan

Warning: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, explicit language, coercion, power play, handjob, fingering.

Summary: In the classroom, their power dynamics shift, drawing them closer to the edge of what’s acceptable. Caught between desire and the threat of scandal, they push past boundaries, each unable to deny the magnetic pull between them. But with stakes this high, the real question is: how much will they sacrifice for a forbidden passion they can’t control?

Word count: 7.7 k

A/N:For those that know me know that I love history (it was almost my major but life happened), so this was me basically thirsting over this pictures of Hugh and imagining him as my history teacher. Yes I’m exposing myself, anyways I hope you guys like it. If you guys have ideas that you would like to share with me, please let me know, and maybe we can create something. I’m rambling … please enjoy!

© th3mrskory. don’t copy, translate, or use my works in any form with AI, ChatGPT or any other automated tools. I only share my stories here, so if you see them posted elsewhere, i’d appreciate it if you let me know.

"Power is not always obvious," Professor Logan said, his eyes scanning the room, catching the attention of his students. "It doesn’t always come with a crown or a title. Sometimes it comes with a whisper, a glance, a gesture. And sometimes—sometimes it comes when you least expect it."

The lecture hall was a quiet hum, a symphony of the mundane—pens scratching against paper, the rustle of pages turning. Logan’s voice carried through the room, steady and calm, but beneath it ran an undercurrent of something else. He spoke of empires, of power, of rulers who bent the world to their will. His words were sharp, his delivery precise, but always with an edge of something darker, something more elusive.

His eyes lingered a moment longer on Y/N, sitting at the front, her pen poised over her notes. She was one of the best in the class, her focus unwavering, her understanding evident in the way she took in every word. He could see the intellect in her eyes, but there was something else too—a quiet defiance, a knowing. She met his gaze for just a fraction of a second before looking back down at her notes, but in that brief exchange, the air between them shifted.

"History," Logan continued, his voice low and resonant, "is full of those who understood this—those who knew how to wield influence without ever raising a sword." He let the words linger in the air, letting the students process, but his eyes were already searching, narrowing as they locked onto a figure in the front row—Y/N.

She sat with her chin propped in one hand, a look of quiet disinterest in her eyes as she scribbled down a few notes. Her friends, a small cluster of chatterboxes seated next to her, whispered among themselves, the occasional giggle slipping through the otherwise hushed atmosphere. Y/N didn’t seem to mind; her eyes drifted lazily over Logan, then back to her friends, her attention more drawn to the familiar cadence of their conversation than to the lecture itself.

Logan could feel her presence, could sense the way she seemed to float above his words. She was too intelligent to be completely consumed by his lecture, and perhaps that was the greatest challenge—how to captivate someone who had already mastered the material long before it was ever spoken aloud. And yet, every now and then, she would glance back at him, those eyes meeting his with a flicker of something unspoken. It was the same each class—brief, fleeting, but enough to remind him of the subtle power they held in each other's gaze.

"But what happens," Logan’s voice dipped lower, growing more intense, "when the power shifts? When authority is tested?" He paused, holding her attention a moment longer, the words weighing more heavily now. "We’ll see that today."

A student in the back row raised a hand, his voice eager. "Professor, are you suggesting that power is always a matter of perception? That someone can be in control without others even knowing?"

Logan glanced at the student, a brief flicker of amusement crossing his features. "Exactly," he replied, his eyes shifting back to Y/N, even though he answered the question. "Power often hides itself in plain sight—subtle, insidious. True power doesn’t need to announce its presence."

Another student chimed in, this time from the middle row. "So, like—manipulation?"

Logan paused, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Manipulation," he said, eyes narrowing with a trace of something dangerous, "can be a tool, if wielded wisely." His gaze, though, remained fixed on Y/N. "But power, true power, is about controlling the game without ever touching the pieces."

The students exchanged murmurs, their intrigue growing, but Logan’s focus never fully left Y/N. She wasn’t engaged in the discussion—not like the others—yet there was something about the way she let his words wash over her that made her more dangerous to him than any of the others. 

"Take the rulers of ancient Rome," Logan continued, seamlessly drawing the class back in, his tone now lighter, almost conversational. "They understood this very well. The true power wasn’t in the Senate or the legions, but in the whispers of the people. In the alliances made not on the battlefield, but in the shadows."

Y/N’s eyes flicked back to him, a moment of acknowledgment passing between them. She was listening now, more intently than before, but only just. Logan could feel it—how her mind moved faster than his words, how she already knew the direction he was going. And yet, something about the way she looked at him—something in that moment—made him pause, made the tension between them swell, palpable and thick.

Before he could finish his thought, Y/N interrupted him, her voice cutting through the air, the usual quiet of the room briefly shattered. "You’re going to tell us that real power isn’t in war or force, but in control, right?" Her words hung in the air, bold and playful, a challenge and a tease all at once.

Logan blinked, momentarily taken aback, but his gaze sharpened. His lips curled, not into a smile, but something more dangerous—acknowledgment, maybe even respect. "Control?" He leaned forward, his voice lowering, drawing her in. "Yes, it’s about control. But it’s not just any control. It’s the kind that’s invisible, the kind that makes others think they’re in charge while you hold the strings."

A flicker of something passed through Y/N’s eyes, a sharpness that matched his own. "Manipulation," she replied, her tone low but deliberate, her gaze never leaving his.

The words hung between them, charged. Logan’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She’s onto me, he thought, and that thought sent a current through him, an unfamiliar thrill. "If you want to call it that," he said, his voice low and smooth. "But manipulation only works if you understand who you’re manipulating—and why. It’s about knowing how to move, when to act, and when to let things fall into place."

Y/N didn’t flinch, her eyes never wavering. She leaned back slightly in her chair, arms crossed, as though she were more an observer than a student. "And when does the power shift?" she asked, tilting her head. "What happens then?"

Logan’s gaze shifted, a slight pause before he answered. He had expected her to be sharp, but this was something different. "When the power shifts," he said slowly, his voice turning almost wistful, "you learn who really holds it."

The room settled into a quiet anticipation, the kind that only arose when the lecture strayed from the script. Logan turned to the chalkboard, picking up a piece of chalk and scrawling a name in bold strokes: Julius Caesar. The classroom watched, but Y/N’s eyes followed the movement with an almost lazy attentiveness, her focus as sharp as it was disinterested.

"Take Caesar," Logan began, his back to the room. "Brilliant general. Unstoppable conqueror. But what truly made him dangerous wasn’t his victories on the battlefield." He underlined the name, his strokes precise. "It was the way he made himself indispensable to Rome—how he turned loyalty into a weapon."

He turned back to face the class, letting his eyes drift again to Y/N, who hadn’t moved, her expression inscrutable. "He didn’t just seize power. He made them give it to him. The Senate, the people—they thought they were in control. But every step they took to restrain him only tightened his hold on them."

A hand shot up near the back of the room. "Wasn’t that what got him killed, though? Didn’t the Senate turn on him because they felt he had too much power?"

Logan’s mouth curved into a faint smile. "Exactly. But even in his death, Caesar proved his point. The Republic collapsed soon after, and the empire he had envisioned took its place. His name—his legacy—became synonymous with authority. Even those who conspired against him couldn’t escape his influence."

He leaned back against his desk, arms folding loosely across his chest. "So, the question isn’t whether power shifts. It always does. The question is—" his gaze swept over the class, settling on Y/N once more, "—who has prepared for the moment when it does?"

Her friends exchanged murmurs beside her, but Y/N stayed silent. Her fingers tapped idly on the edge of her notebook, her posture casual, but there was something coiled beneath it, something deliberate. She tilted her head, her lips parting as though to speak, but then she stopped, a ghost of a smile brushing her face as she leaned back again.

Logan noticed the hesitation. His jaw tightened, just for a moment, before he turned his attention back to the broader audience. "In Rome," he continued, voice steady, "Caesar’s power wasn’t in the Senate or the legions. It was in his ability to command the loyalty of others. He made them believe in him, even as he dismantled everything they held sacred."

The room buzzed faintly with whispers, but Logan didn’t silence them. He allowed the undercurrent to fill the space, his words sinking in slowly. He glanced at the clock—five minutes until the hour.

"All right," he said, his tone shifting to something lighter, "we’ll stop there for today. Read the chapters on Rome’s transition from Republic to Empire. And," he added, his gaze briefly flitting to Y/N, "consider what it takes to hold power without ever appearing to grasp it."

The students began to shuffle their things, the noise of zippers and chair legs scraping against the floor filling the room. Y/N stood, slipping her notebook into her bag as her friends chatted beside her. But as she made her way toward the door, Logan’s voice cut through the hum.

"Y/N," he called, his tone neutral but firm. "Do you have a minute?"

Her friends shot her curious glances, but she waved them off. "I’ll catch up," she said, her voice easy, almost careless. She turned back toward Logan, stepping away from the others.

He waited until the room had cleared, the door clicking shut behind the last student, before he spoke. "I need some help with grading," he said, his words measured. "“I could use some extra hands this evening—are you available?”

Y/N raised a brow, her lips quirking in faint amusement. "Grading? Or a lesson in subtlety?"

Logan’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile. "We’ll see," he replied, his tone low, charged.

She considered him for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. When and where?"

"My office," he said simply. "Six o’clock."

Y/N didn’t respond, but the glance she gave him was answer enough before she turned and walked away, leaving him alone in the empty classroom.

Logan remained seated on the edge of his desk as the classroom door swung shut behind her. The faint click of her heels against the hallway floor lingered in his ears, each step an echo, a countdown. He exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair, his fingers catching briefly before dropping back to his side. The room, now empty, felt larger somehow, its silence almost accusatory.

Grading. The excuse had come so easily, almost too easily, but it was better than nothing. He couldn’t very well say what was really on his mind—hell, even he wasn’t sure what that was. All he knew was that when she spoke, when her gaze pinned him in place, the careful structure he maintained in his world started to shift, brick by brick.

He pushed himself off the desk, straightening his tie as he crossed the room to gather his notes. His handwriting, normally steady, seemed slightly uneven today. He glanced at the last page, where his lecture had trailed off into a cluster of jagged phrases—power, perception, control. He closed the notebook sharply, the sound satisfying in the empty space.

By the time six o’clock rolled around, Logan was in his office. The space was small but personal—bookshelves crammed with volumes of history and philosophy, their spines worn from years of abuse. A map of the ancient world hung on one wall, dotted with small push pins marking significant events. His desk, a heavy wooden piece with years of scratches and scars, was cluttered with papers, a half-empty coffee cup, and a small brass figurine of a Roman eagle.

The knock on his door was soft, but deliberate. He glanced up, already knowing who it would be. "Come in," he said, his voice steady, betraying none of the anticipation simmering beneath the surface.

Y/N stepped inside, her expression calm, almost detached, but her eyes gave her away—bright, alert, scanning the room in a single sweep before settling on him. She carried her bag over one shoulder, her free hand resting casually on the strap.

"You’re early," he remarked, leaning back in his chair.

She shrugged, letting the door click shut behind her. "Figured I’d get this over with."

Logan smirked, gesturing toward the chair opposite him. "Glad to know I’m such a burden."

Y/N didn’t sit immediately. Instead, she wandered a few steps, her fingers lightly grazing the edge of one of the bookshelves as she glanced over the titles. "You’ve got a lot of books about power," she noted, her tone light but probing.

"Comes with the territory," he replied. "History is about power—who has it, who wants it, and what they’ll do to keep it."

She turned then, meeting his gaze. "And you? Are you one of those who want it?"

Logan’s smirk faded, replaced by something quieter, more guarded. "You don’t get to ask questions like that without sitting down first."

Y/N tilted her head, amused, but she complied, settling into the chair across from him. She crossed one leg over the other.

"So," she said, breaking the silence, "grading. What’s the plan?"

Logan slid a small stack of papers across the desk, his fingers brushing hers briefly as she reached for them. "Freshman essays on Rome’s decline. Half of them won’t even spell Caesar right."

Y/N flipped through the stack, her expression unreadable. "Sounds riveting."

"Welcome to my world," he said dryly.

For a while, they worked in near silence, the occasional rustle of papers or scratch of pen filling the air. But Logan couldn’t help watching her, the way her brow furrowed slightly as she read, the way her fingers tapped absently against the desk when she paused to think.

"You're good at this," he said after a while, his voice breaking the quiet.

She glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "At grading?"

"At analysis," he clarified. "You see things most people don’t."

Y/N set the paper she’d been holding back on the desk, leaning forward slightly. "And what do you see, Professor?"

Logan met her gaze, and for a moment, the room felt smaller, the air heavier. "Someone who doesn’t like being underestimated," he said simply.

Her lips twitched, not quite a smile, but something close. "Good," she said softly. "Because you’d be wrong if you did."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of the unspoken hanging between them. Then, Y/N leaned back, breaking the tension. "So, what’s the verdict on these essays? Anyone worth saving?"

Logan blinked, the spell broken, and glanced at the stack. "A couple, maybe. But how is it possible,” he muttered, “to spend weeks discussing the rise and fall of empires, only for them to write that Julius Caesar’s greatest achievement was dying?”

Y/N burst out laughing, the sound breaking the otherwise quiet room. She set down her pen, shaking her head. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Logan picked up the offending essay and held it out to her. “See for yourself. Apparently, his second-greatest achievement was ‘Romeo and Juliet.’”

She snorted, her eyes scanning the page as she leaned over the desk. “This is tragic. This one essay could single-handedly set the entire field of history back by centuries.”

“Well, at least they’re consistent,” Logan said dryly, tossing another essay into the reject pile. “This one thought the ‘divine right of kings’ was God handing out crowns like participation trophies.”

Y/N laughed again, the sound warm and unguarded, and Logan found himself watching her for a beat longer than necessary. Her shoulders shook as she leaned back in her chair, an easy confidence radiating off her.

“So, what about you?” he asked, shifting the focus. “How’s your thesis coming along?”

“Slowly,” she admitted, crossing her arms. “I’ve narrowed it down to the influence of religion on political systems, but it’s like peeling back an onion. Every time I think I’m getting somewhere, there’s another layer waiting.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You’re taking on a beast of a topic. What angle are you focusing on?”

“The shift from divine justification to secular authority,” Y/N replied, her tone more serious now. “How religion was weaponized to maintain control, and how that control evolved when religion started losing its grip.”

A flicker of respect passed through his eyes, though he kept his tone light. “Ambitious. Let me guess—you’re arguing it’s all manipulation in the end?”

She smiled, tilting her head. “What else would it be? Power is power, whether it’s cloaked in faith or reason. It’s still about controlling people.”

Logan leaned back slightly in his chair, his pen tapping idly against the desk. His gaze lingered on her, thoughtful yet laced with curiosity. “You’ve got your thesis to worry about, and still, you’re helping me out. I appreciate it. I just hope I’m not keeping you from anything—or anyone—important. A boyfriend waiting for you, perhaps?”

Y/N snorted softly, her lips curling into a wry smile. “Hardly. He’s low-maintenance.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her answer. “Low-maintenance? What does that mean?”

Y/N’s gaze flicked to him, mischief dancing in her eyes. “It means he’s rechargeable. Silent. Never argues. And he always knows when to stop.”

Logan’s smirk deepened, his voice smooth as he leaned forward just slightly. “So, he’s an easy out? No strings attached?”

“Exactly,” she replied, her tone playful. “No messy complications. Just... straight to the point.”

Logan chuckled, the sound low and rich, almost predatory. “Hmm, sounds like you’ve found the perfect solution. Clean, uncomplicated.”

Y/N’s eyes twinkled with amusement, but there was a steel edge beneath her teasing tone. “I like things simple. No mind games. No drama. Just... what I need, when I need it.”

Logan leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharpening, intrigued by the calm confidence she wore. “Control. You’ve got that down to an art, haven’t you? Even in your... choice of company.”

She met his gaze, a sly smile curving her lips. “I learned from the best.”

Logan paused, his breath caught for just a moment, before he let out a quiet chuckle. “Flattery. That’s a dangerous game.”

Y/N’s smile deepened, her voice low but unwavering. “Maybe. But I’m not the one playing it.”

The brief silence between them felt charged, the space between words crackling with unspoken thoughts. Y/N allowed a small, almost imperceptible smile to form as she leaned back slightly in her chair, her gaze steady on him. She tilted her head, her expression one of quiet challenge. “And what about you, Professor?” she asked casually, her voice laced with a hint of mischief. “Anyone waiting for you back home?”

Logan’s eyes darkened briefly, his expression shifting as he leaned back in his chair. The pen in his hand tapped against the desk, a rhythmic, deliberate motion that betrayed his otherwise calm demeanor. “No,” he said after a beat, his voice carrying an edge sharper than intended. “Commitment’s not really my style. I’m more of a... here-and-now kind of guy.”

Y/N’s brow lifted, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. “‘A here-and-now kind of guy,’” she repeated softly, the words brushing the air between them like a challenge. Her smile deepened, almost wistful. “That’s... disappointing.”

Logan’s gaze flickered for a moment, though his expression remained controlled, as if weighing her words, testing the waters. “Maybe,” he said, his voice quieter, almost nonchalant. “But complications have a way of unraveling things you don’t want to lose. Simpler’s safer.” He let the words hang in the air, deliberately guiding the conversation.

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes never leaving his. “Uncomplicated, sure,” she murmured, her voice soft but threaded with a quiet challenge. “But sometimes, don’t you think... what you’re missing is worth the complication?” Her words lingered in the air, but there was an almost imperceptible softness to her tone—a fleeting crack in her otherwise cool demeanor. Logan noted it, watching her with a careful, calculated look.

Logan smiled, just slightly, letting the moment breathe. “Maybe,” he replied, his voice now cooler, as though he were drawing back, pulling her deeper into the web without her fully realizing it. “But I’ve found that sometimes, it’s easier to avoid the... complications. Keeps things from getting messy.”

He let that hang in the air too, deliberately creating space, knowing the pause would make her respond. He met her gaze again, just long enough for her to sense his scrutiny. “You wouldn’t want that, right? Complications?”

Her lips curled into a soft smile, one that was almost... understanding, but it wasn’t quite enough to give away what she was thinking. “Maybe I don’t mind a little ‘complication’ every now and then,” she replied, her voice calm but her eyes locking onto his with quiet intensity. “After all, some things are worth the risk.”

Logan didn’t let the moment slip. He leaned forward slightly, maintaining just enough distance to keep the tension taut but still under his control. The words between them had reached a tipping point, and he could see it in her eyes—there was curiosity, but it was laced with something more.

For a brief second, Logan allowed his gaze to soften. This wasn’t just about testing her; it was about controlling the situation, manipulating it into the direction he wanted. “You sure you want to go down that road?” he murmured, his voice quiet, almost intimate. He was close enough now that the question felt like a warning, though Y/N couldn’t know it was a game he’d already planned out.

Y/N’s lips parted, her breath hitching slightly as she met his gaze. There was a faint hesitation in her eyes—one that she quickly masked, but it was there. “Maybe it’s just... curiosity,” she said, the words slipping out with an almost vulnerable undertone. She was playing along, but Logan knew she was being careful, trying to keep her emotions in check.

He smiled, watching her carefully, knowing exactly how to push without breaking the illusion. “Curiosity,” he repeated softly, his voice low but laced with something almost indulgent. He leaned in a fraction closer, just enough to close the space without crossing that line completely.

“You know,” he said quietly, his breath warm against her skin, “curiosity has a way of leading people to places they didn’t expect.”

Her heart rate quickened, but she held her ground, her lips barely moving as she whispered, “And sometimes, that’s exactly where you want to go.”

Logan’s breath hitched for the slightest moment, but he masked it instantly, his focus shifting to the game at hand. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers in a tentative kiss. Soft. Calculated. His lips barely touched hers, enough to send the message, enough to make her feel something deeper.

It wasn’t a kiss of passion. It was a kiss of deliberate provocation.

When they finally broke apart, the air between them hummed with a charged silence, like the crackle of electricity in the aftermath of an intentional spark. Their breaths were shallow, their eyes locked, as if neither could move, both caught in the weight of what had just passed between them.

Logan was the first to speak, his voice lower than before, with just the slightest edge of something darker—more guarded. “This... we shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his words meant to sound like a regret he didn’t quite feel, the weight of the moment a tool in his hands. He wasn’t sorry—not truly. He wanted to see how she would react, whether she would flinch, show any sign of vulnerability, or challenge him. The flicker of desire was still there in his gaze, but it was buried under layers of calculation.

Y/N didn’t react the way he expected. Her lips curled into a wry smile, but her eyes stayed locked on his, steady, almost daring him to push further. “You don’t sound convinced,” she observed softly, her voice a careful blend of playfulness and something more—an understanding of the game they were both playing. It was a challenge, yes, but also a recognition of the unspoken truth between them.

Logan scoffed, his laugh a low, almost bitter sound. “I’m not,” he admitted, but his words weren’t filled with regret—they were loaded, deliberately dismissive. He wasn’t retreating; he was testing the waters, watching for a reaction. His gaze flicked away from her, then back to the desk in front of him, as if trying to avoid her unyielding gaze. “But it doesn’t change what just happened, does it?”

Y/N’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second—was it doubt? Or something softer?—but it was gone before it could fully surface. Her expression returned to its calm, controlled mask, as if the whole moment had been anticipated. “No,” she answered quietly, her voice steady, distant. “It doesn’t.”

Logan’s posture shifted as he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, a gesture that made him seem a little more disarmed than he’d intended. “Y/N... we can’t—” He started, but she cut him off, her tone decisive and calm, as though she had already moved past the tension he was still dwelling in.

“We don’t have to say anything,” she interrupted smoothly, the words hanging in the air between them like a challenge. “Not yet.”

The certainty in her voice gave him pause, something in her demeanor catching him off guard. She wasn’t flinching. She wasn’t retreating into regret. There was something about the way she held her ground that intrigued him—something that suggested she understood exactly what was happening and wasn’t going to let him dictate the narrative.

Logan studied her closely now, his arms crossed, his expression thoughtful but guarded. His gaze never wavered, though there was a flicker of something else there—something more complicated than simple curiosity. “You’re not exactly... conflicted about this, are you?” he asked, the words almost slipping out too easily, the hint of a challenge in his tone.

Y/N met his gaze head-on, her eyes sharp with unspoken challenge. “Not in the way you think,” she replied, her voice quiet but resolute. "I know the risks, Logan. I know exactly what this means." She leaned forward, just slightly, her posture relaxed but full of intent, a subtle power radiating from her. "But sometimes... the things we want the most come with the heaviest consequences."

Her words weren’t a warning, they were an invitation. She was offering him something, but it was still unclear whether she understood just how deep the game they were playing could go. 

"Maybe I'm willing to deal with those consequences," she added, her voice low, the challenge unmistakable. Her eyes stayed steady on his, unwavering. She was daring him to take the next step.

Logan’s breath hitched, his gaze flickering just briefly. He saw it then—the confidence, the control. It made him pause, just for a moment, before he masked it behind the careful composure he always maintained. But this wasn’t how he expected her to play this. He'd thought he’d be the one to make the move, to pull her in. Yet here she was, letting him know exactly what she was willing to risk.

“And what happens now?” His voice remained steady, but there was something in it now—something that betrayed the tension between them, an undercurrent of desire buried beneath the layers of control.

Y/N didn’t answer with words. She didn’t need to. She grabbed the front of his shirt, her fingers curling into the fabric with a boldness that surprised him—pulling him toward her without hesitation, without doubt.

A calculated move in this dance they were engaged in. Logan’s breath caught in his throat, a sharp intake as he felt the force of her pull, the heat of her body so close to his. This wasn’t what he planned—this wasn’t the distance he had wanted—but he wasn’t backing down now. Her boldness wasn’t a weakness; it was part of the game.

Their lips crashed together, urgent and raw, a kiss filled with all the unspoken tension that had been building between them. This wasn’t soft or teasing—it was the culmination of everything they’d avoided saying, everything they’d skirted around. The heat of it was overwhelming, and it swept away the logic, the control. This was about need.

Her fingers gripped his tie, pulling at it as though she wanted to tear down every barrier between them—every piece of control he’d set in place. She wanted him, but this wasn’t just about physical desire. It was about the power struggle between them, the unspoken understanding that they were playing with fire and knew it.

Logan’s hands moved to her hips, pulling her even closer, the urgency mirrored in his movements. His mind raced with the implications, but he couldn’t stop himself. She was pushing him, but he was in control. He always had been.

Her lips parted slightly, and he felt the shift in her kiss, felt the hunger in the way she responded. This wasn’t just an act of passion—it was a statement. A declaration that she was willing to go there, even if it meant everything else unraveled in the process. She wanted more, and now, Logan wanted to see just how far she was willing to go.

Breaking the kiss for a brief moment, Y/N’s voice came out shaky, but her words were sharp with need. “I don’t want to finish grading,” she breathed, the teasing edge in her tone now thick with desire. “Not when there’s something else I want more.”

Logan’s chest tightened, his grip on her waist instinctively tightening as he absorbed her words. The pulse of desire in her voice triggered something inside him, something he’d carefully cultivated, and without hesitation, his lips found hers once more. This kiss wasn’t tentative; it was frantic, hungry, and more driven than the one before, as if they were both racing toward a precipice neither had ever dared approach before.

Her fingers tugged at his tie, pulling it free and discarding it like the insignificant obstacle it was. The classroom, the grading, the rules—everything that had once stood between them shattered into nothing. There was only the burning need they couldn’t contain any longer. Logan’s hands roamed her body, pulling her closer, and with each touch, the world outside of that classroom faded further. There was no right or wrong anymore—only this.

Her breath was quick, her lips leaving his only to trail across his neck, her hands moving over his chest, exploring the heat of his body beneath the fabric. It was like a spark had ignited inside her, and she needed more of him—more than the stolen glances, the moments of tension.

Logan’s hands slid lower, finding the curve of her hips as he lifted her onto the desk, papers scattering in their wake. She felt the rush of blood in her veins, the heat of his touch, and the magnetic pull that had been drawing them together from the very start. The kiss deepened, more urgent now, as if their bodies were trying to communicate what their words hadn’t. Each movement, each shift, brought them closer to the inevitable.

Y/N moaned against his lips, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him in closer, as if she needed him to fill every space inside her. Every caress was an electric shock, a wave of heat that seemed to surge through her, leaving her breathless and craving more.

Logan’s hand slid under the hem of her skirt, his touch firm but gentle, as though testing her response. The shock of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she gasped, her pulse racing with the rush of adrenaline and need.

“Logan,” she whispered, pulling back just enough to speak, her voice ragged with desire. “I don’t care anymore… about the rules, about anything. I just want this.”

He didn’t need to answer with words. His mouth claimed hers again, slower this time, but with an intensity that suggested he was savoring the taste of her, the feel of her beneath his hands. He was in control, but it didn’t feel like control—it felt like something more dangerous, something they were both choosing to step into.

His hands slid under her blouse, his fingertips brushing over her skin, sending a rush of heat through her veins. She moaned softly against his lips, her body arching toward him, urging him on. She wanted more. She needed more.

Everything else, every rule, every boundary, seemed insignificant compared to the way they were consumed by each other. This moment—this connection—had been building for far too long, and now that they were here, there was no retreating, no second-guessing. Only the fire between them, only the pull that neither of them could resist any longer.

Logan’s lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of heat that made Y/N’s breath hitch. His rough hands moved to the hem of her blouse, his fingers brushing against her bare skin as he lifted the fabric slowly, deliberately. She shivered at the sensation, her own hands not idle—they slid along his chest, tracing the defined muscle beneath his skin, her touch both curious and confident.

"Do you always move this slow?" she teased, her voice breathless yet playful as her eyes met his.

Logan chuckled, his smirk equal parts charm and challenge. "You in a hurry, princess?" he murmured, his voice thick as honey.

Instead of answering, she took matters into her own hands, tugging at his belt with deft fingers. The clink of metal echoed in the room, sharp against the background of their heavy breathing. Logan growled low in his throat, the sound sending a thrill straight through her as he captured her lips again, more fervent this time, as if her boldness had spurred him on.

The blouse slipped from her shoulders, pooling on the floor alongside the papers and books that had already been scattered. Logan’s hands roamed her now-bare skin, his touch reverent despite the urgency building between them. His calloused palms brushed over her ribs, his thumbs tracing the edges of her bra before sliding beneath the straps and slowly tugging them down her arms.

Her own fingers worked quickly to rid him of his shirt, pushing it back until it joined her blouse on the floor. She took a moment to drink in the sight of him—broad shoulders, a chest covered in hair, and a strength that had always been hinted at but now stood fully revealed before her.

"You’ve been hiding this under those button-ups?" she asked, her voice low and teasing as her nails grazed his skin from his chest and down his abdomen.

Logan chuckled again, a rich, gravelly sound that sent a rush of warmth through her. 

His hands slid to the waistband of her skirt, his fingers dipping beneath the fabric as he pulled it down slowly, letting it fall to the floor. She stood before him now, clad in just her bra and panties, her confidence unshaken as his eyes roamed over her, lingering on every curve.

"You're beautiful," he muttered, almost to himself, as he reached out to trace the line of her hip.

Y/N smiled, stepping closer to him, her hands moving to the waistband of his trousers. "So are you," she whispered, her voice softer now, almost tender, as she undid the button and slid the zipper down.

The clothing between them quickly became an afterthought, discarded piece by piece until there was nothing left but bare skin and the electric tension that had built between them. Logan’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him, the heat of his body making her gasp softly.

Her hand slipped between their bodies, the heat of her palm pressing against him with an aching precision. She wrapped her fingers around his length, her touch firm and deliberate, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him.

Logan’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the intensity of her touch forcing him to steady himself. He leaned into her, his forehead resting against hers as she began to move, her hand stroking him with a rhythm that was both torturously slow and utterly consuming.

A low growl rumbled deep in his chest, and his hands tightened on her hips, pulling her closer until there was nothing between them but the slick heat of skin against skin. “Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a strained rasp, thick with desire.

Her lips curved into a faint smile, though her breath came in short, quick bursts as her movements grew bolder. “You’re awfully quiet for someone who’s supposed to have all the control.”she whispered, her tone teasing yet tinged with her own need. 

He chuckled, a deep, gravelly sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Don’t push me, darlin,” he warned, though the way his hips moved into her touch betrayed just how much power she held in that moment.

“Oh, I plan to,” she shot back, her voice playful, her fingers tracing deliberate paths that made his entire body tense beneath her touch.

Logan’s hands slid up her back, his fingertips digging into her skin with a restrained urgency. He caught her mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing her soft gasp as he shifted their positions, guiding her back against the desk. The wood was cool against her bare skin, but the heat radiating from him made it impossible to focus on anything else.

His lips left hers to trail down her jaw, then lower, nipping at the curve of her neck. “You think you’ve got me figured out, don’t you?” he murmured against her skin, his voice a low growl.

Y/N’s laughter was breathless, her hand never pausing in its steady rhythm. “I think you like it,” she countered, her tone light, though her body betrayed her own rising need.

Logan pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his smirk dangerous and full of promise. “I think you’re about to find out just how wrong you are.”

His hand moved with deliberate slowness, tracing the curve of her thigh with rough fingertips, the contrast against her softness making her tremble. He leaned in, his lips ghosting over hers as he whispered, “It’s only fair, don’t you think?”

Y/N barely had time to reply before his lips descended to her neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses that made her arch beneath him. His hand slid between her thighs, his touch light but purposeful as he explored her heat, teasing and testing her resolve.

A soft gasp escaped her lips, her head tilting back as his fingers moved with skill, parting her gently. Her breathing quickened, her body instinctively shifting closer to him, seeking more of his touch.

“You’re so sensitive,” Logan murmured against her collarbone, his voice a low growl filled with a mixture of admiration and intent. He pressed his thumb to her clit in a slow, deliberate circle, his movements calculated and unrelenting.

Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, her nails scraping lightly against his scalp as she struggled to form coherent thoughts. “Logan…” she breathed, her voice catching on his name, both a plea and a warning.

He smirked against her skin, the trace of something darker in his eyes as he planted soft, deliberate kisses along her neck. His lips brushed over her shoulder, sending a shiver through her, before he whispered in her ear, his voice thick with desire. “No, not Logan, darlin’.”

She froze for a second, the weight of his words hanging in the air between them. The tension crackled with unspoken authority. Logan’s breath was warm against her skin as he continued, his lips brushing the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “You know what I want you to call me.”

Her pulse quickened, a flicker of resistance sparking within her, but she couldn’t deny the way his voice, low and commanding, made her heart race. She met his gaze, the challenge still alive in her eyes. “Professor,” she whispered, the word feeling foreign yet somehow right on her tongue.

A low chuckle rumbled from him, and he pulled her closer, the grin on his face both triumphant and dangerous. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice now a gravelly whisper that sent a fresh wave of heat crashing over her. “Just let me take care of you.”

Her body arched as he pressed deeper, his fingers finding a rhythm that had her gasping, her thighs trembling against his forearm. Logan watched her intently, his gaze dark and hungry, taking in every reaction as though it fueled him.

Her breaths came in ragged bursts, her head falling back against the desk as her body succumbed to the pleasure he built within her. Logan didn’t relent, his movements growing more insistent, his free hand gripping her hip to steady her as she began to fall apart beneath him.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice a rough command, and when her eyes fluttered open to meet his, the raw intensity in his gaze sent her spiraling.

Her release came like a tidal wave, her body tensing and then shuddering as a broken cry escaped her lips. Logan didn’t stop until the last tremor left her, his touch slowing but never fully leaving her, grounding her in the aftermath.

As her breathing steadied, Y/N met his gaze, her lips curling into a lazy smile. “Fuck Professor.”

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth, his words a mix of accusation and surrender.

“And you’re stalling,” she replied, her tone daring as she tilted her head to meet his lips fully, capturing them in a kiss that was fierce and demanding.

Logan groaned against her mouth, his self-control shattering as his hands roamed over her body, claiming every inch he could reach. 

Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, the heat between them building with every stolen touch. Logan’s lips left hers, trailing down the line of her neck, his stubble scraping her sensitive skin in a way that made her gasp.

“Y/N,” he rasped against her throat, his voice thick with desire and restraint, his hands tightening on her hips.

Her answer was to arch into him, her breath hitching as her body pressed against his. “No more talking,” she whispered, her voice firm but breathless, her fingers tugging him back to her.

The cool edge of the desk met her back, but the warmth of his body was all she could focus on as he leaned into her.

She could feel his hands roaming gently, tracing the contours of her body, but it was the way he moved—intentional, slow, and purposeful—that had her pulse quickening. His lips ghosted over her skin, just enough to leave her shivering in anticipation.

Logan’s hands were firm on her hips, his grip possessive as he pressed her back against the desk. His mouth was everywhere—her jaw, her throat, the dip of her collarbone—hot and unrelenting, like he was making up for all the time they’d spent pretending this wasn’t inevitable.

But Y/N wasn’t in the mood to just take whatever he gave her.

With a smirk, she pushed at his chest, catching him just off guard enough to make him step back. His brows furrowed in confusion, lips parted like he was about to argue, but she didn’t give him the chance. Instead, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shoved him into his chair.

Logan let out a low, breathy chuckle, eyes dark and sharp as they flicked up to meet hers. “That so?” he murmured, his voice all gravel and challenge.

Y/N just smiled, swinging a leg over his lap and settling onto him like she belonged there. Like she was claiming him the way he always tried to claim her.

Logan’s hands immediately found her thighs, sliding up with slow, dangerous intent. His gaze was locked onto hers, heavy-lidded and unreadable, but his fingers dug into her skin like he was daring her to keep going.

And she was going to.

She rolled her hips against him just enough to feel the sharp hitch of his breath, the way his fingers tightened in response. He groaned low in his throat, his control cracking, his grip guiding her just a little rougher, a little more desperate—

Knock.

They both froze.

A heartbeat. Then another.

Knock.

“Professor Howlett?”

Y/N stiffened. Logan’s jaw locked, his grip on her waist iron tight as if he was physically restraining himself from losing his goddamn mind.

The voice was muffled through the door, but the words were clear. “I just had a question about the midterm—are you in there?”

Silence.

Y/N barely breathed, her body still pressed against his, her heart pounding so hard she swore Logan could feel it.

His hands didn’t move. His eyes didn’t move. He was staring at her, exhaling slow and steady through his nose, and fuck, he looked like he was about to ruin something.

Instead, he leaned in, his lips barely brushing against her ear as he muttered, voice thick with frustration, “This isn’t over.”

Y/N smirked, her lips ghosting over his jaw as she whispered, "I wouldn’t dream of it."

Logan exhaled sharply, a low, frustrated sound rumbling in his chest. His hands flexed against her thighs like he was this close to dragging her right back down, to make sure she regretted every ounce of that teasing bravado. 

And with painful reluctance, he lifted her off his lap.

The second her feet hit the floor, she felt the loss of him—the heat, the weight, the way he’d held onto her like he wasn’t ready to let go.

She met his gaze one last time, taking in the way his jaw was tight, the way his knuckles were white against the arms of his chair.

And she already knew—when this moment finally came back around?

It was going to be worse.

© th3mrskory 2025 — all rights reserved.

[jymwahuwu]

Food for thought, High-cloud Quintet era:

Jing Yuan, Dan Feng and Yingxing helping their innocent Darling (same darling bc its fun!) with "Stamina and Flexibility" training fwhile (and esp when) they have darling assist them in their work after a certain Sword Champion turned their request to be a disciple down for the nth time.

To make it more fun, there is no fixed schedule plan as in order to be a warrior, one must always be prepared to deal with unexpected situations after all:

- Dodging random and unexpected tendrils made of water by a certain high elder to test ones reflexes.

-Maintaining their concentration when meditating whilst being strapped down on a... "concentration training" machine made by a certain blade smith.

-Maintaining concentration and ability to strategize whilst being folded into different poses during a match of star chess with a languid Lieutenant.

For example, whilst also having to assist them while they work. They are busy people, you can't expect them to take time off their schedule to dedicate it to training you alone, would you?

-one of the peeps who hunts the comments section

This is so delicious, I immediately thought of what that would be like… 😌🫶

-CW: yandere, abuse of trust, overstimulation, sex machine

You are so naive and innocent... You are all focused on how to improve your strength and contribution, and you don't realize that there is something wrong with their "training"…

Dan Feng:

Imbibitor Lunae has the ability to manipulate water, weave rain and dew, create storms, and even split seawater, so training with water is really something you can expect. You just didn't expect…High Elder's training to be so…random. From HSR's description, we can know that Vidyadhara possesses a technology called cloudhymn magic, which can make them almost completely invisible and appear quietly around people. So… you were attacked completely randomly.

The water occasionally sprays onto your underwear, wetly revealing the shape of your sexual organs inside. You squirmed uncomfortably and closed your legs to avoid others noticing that water was dripping between your legs for no reason… You didn't want to be thought of as a weirdo who was in heat anytime and anywhere…

Dan Feng didn't even come to you on purpose. He showed no emotion when he did this. The High Elder sometimes wiggles his fingertips a little and your underwear is soaked, and then he goes to have lunch and deal with the daily affairs of Vidyadhara. Sometimes, your chest will also get wet, causing two puddles of water on the clothes on your chest. It's so embarrassing! You have to cross your arms over your chest to cover it up and then go change.

But…the "training" that requires taking off clothes is different. Dan Feng asks you to remain still. For an hour continuously, the warm water sprays on your private parts, the effect is like masturbation in the shower… You have to resist moving. This is a challenge of endurance and willpower…

Yingxing:

This talented weapon forger has gained a good reputation most of the time… Many people have commented that he is arrogant, but Yingxing does have the qualifications of "arrogance".

You trust Yingxing. He is so sweet and builds those weapons for you for free. He put decorations on the weapons he gave you and engraved them with beautiful patterns that suit you.

So… Even though Yingxing gave you that weird "concentration training" machine, you accepted it. That machine is automated…or it operates according to the program created by Yingxing, with more than ten modes.

In the normal mode, you only need to sit on the dildo of the machine (what Yingxing did not tell you is that the shape of the dildo is according to his…), and be penetrated deeply and trembled at the frequency of thrusting. This machine always seeks out your sensitive spots and stimulates them long-lasting and thoroughly. In full mode, your hands and legs are immobilized, and your nipples are caressed and rubbed for constant overstimulation.

Yingxing asks for your feedback and improves the machine. Maybe you should consider some suggestions…

Jing Yuan:

Jing Yuan coaxes you - this is about concentration and strategic skills training. If you can't strategize without interruption, you will suffer defeat in combat. He's just doing it for your own good. This…sounds reasonable?

At least once a day, you have to play chess with Jing Yuan, but the distraction is that you have to sit on his cock and fiddle with the chess pieces. He unbuttoned his pants and took out his fat cock, which was erect. He held his chin, narrowed his eyes and smiled, urging you to sit up. It took you a lot of courage to sit on it for the first time, and the unfamiliar cock almost split you open. So…thick and long. You moaned softly with every inch he thrust in, and his thumb rubbed your private parts to help lubricate you. Sitting completely on it is a terrifying experience. Pleasure bewilders and corrupts your brain…

Maybe this is what Jing Yuan meant by "training"? About whether you can focus on strategizing.

Of course you are… unable to focus. It collapsed in a few steps. Your fingertips tremble as you place the chess pieces. The brain cannot think about the next strategy and route…

After a few months, you get better at it, a little bit, but every time you get close to reaching "victory," you're screaming and bouncing on the general's cock, missing the chance of "victory" in orgasm...

[spr1ngpvrinbwunnie]

💼 Leith Pierre x Reader (Personal Assistant) - Headcanons

Note: Crazy... very crazy bc I don't see much fanfic of this man x reader, where is yall at damn?? 😭🙏

★ Art credit: @clearfitz on tiktok ★

Let’s say you are his personal assistant at Playtime Co.—a job that comes with high risk, higher expectations, and possibly higher emotional stakes than you bargained for.

🧠 First Impressions / First Meeting:

You weren’t supposed to meet Leith Pierre on your first day.

Your assignment was clear: get oriented, fill out endless NDAs, and begin work under his secretary. But he walks in. Personally. Mid-argument with a head engineer, coat billowing, voice laced with sarcasm and frustration.

“If I wanted mediocrity, I’d have hired a vending machine. Now, unless you're planning to automate your own replacement, fix it.”

And then—he sees you. He pauses. Just long enough to make it clear that he’s clocked you.

“...You’re not one of the interns, are you? Too calm for that. Good. You must be the assistant they sent me. Let’s hope you’re better than the last one.”

His tone isn’t cruel. Just clinical. Dry. Sharp-edged, like he’s testing your reaction for cracks. When you don’t flinch, don’t smile too hard, don’t try to impress him, just nod and introduce yourself like a professional—he notices.

“Hm. Straightforward. Useful. Follow me.”

No warm welcome. No “nice to meet you.” He talks as he walks, barely looking back.

But he lets you walk next to him. Not behind.

🧠 First Few Weeks: The Ice-Cold Fire

From day one, there’s an energy.

Not romantic. Not exactly. More like... gravitational. He doesn’t smile at you. But he looks at you longer than necessary sometimes. And when you speak in meetings, he listens. You’re one of the only people he doesn't interrupt.

You don’t flirt with him either—he'd eat that alive—but the way you carry yourself? Calm. Efficient. Never needing his validation, but always making his work smoother? That earns a different kind of respect.

The mutual impression early on:

Leith’s impression of you: Useful. Impressive composure. Surprising intuition. Dangerous if underestimated.

Your impression of Leith: Demanding. Brilliant. Arrogant... yes but calculated, in a way that draws you in. He sees everything. And yet... he watches you differently.

🔧 Month 2–3: The Shift in Language

At some point, the way he talks to you changes.

“Have the files ready.” → “Can I trust you to keep this between us?”

“I need the report by noon.” → “You’re the only one I trust not to butcher this."

“You again.” → “You’re still here. Hm. Good."

The shift is so subtle, no one else would notice.

He’s still Leith: sharp, analytical, borderline insufferable when stressed. But he doesn’t raise his voice around you. He checks in after a particularly chaotic day in the lab.

He starts bringing you a second coffee or whatever the drink you like when he goes to get his own—never mentions it.

You begin to sync.

You finish his sentences. He starts anticipating your notes during meetings. You argue, sometimes, when you’re brave enough to push back—but he likes it. He never shuts you down. He challenges you like an equal.

That’s when the feelings start to bloom. Quietly. Privately. Deeply.

🧪 How It Evolves:

Over time, the working relationship turns from curt commands to subtle trust. He starts giving you access to confidential projects. Letting you sit in on meetings he doesn’t let anyone else attend. Maybe even slipping up and calling you by a nickname—though he’d never admit it.

He never praises directly, but:

He gets irritated when others waste your time.

He asks for your opinion more than he does anyone else’s.

He defends your work like it’s his own. Crazy isn't it?

And when you bring him coffee without asking—but made exactly how he likes it?

“If you’re trying to earn points, it’s working. Not that I keep score.”

✨ The Vibe Between You Two:

Tension—not hostile, but always charged.

Unspoken understanding—you often know what he needs before he says it.

Banter—dry, clever, never too emotional, but there’s heat under the words.

💥 The Moment He Feels Something for You

It’s late.

You're both staying after hours—again. You’re typing something up; he’s pacing in front of a chalkboard, shirt sleeves rolled up, mumbling formulas.

At some point, he says something out loud—not to you, just to the air:

“This isn’t working. Nothing’s working. Useless.”

You speak up without looking at him:

“You're exhausted. Take a breath. You’ll see it clearer in the morning.”

He goes silent. You look up.

And his expression? For once, it’s not composed. Not guarded. He’s just... looking at you. Like he sees something new. Like it just hit him that you’re not just competent. You’re comfort.

He doesn’t say anything. But he sits down beside you for the first time, close, shoulder brushing yours.

“You always talk to me like I’m not a monster,” he mutters.

You smirk, eyes on the screen. “If you were, I’d still schedule your meetings.”

And he actually laughs. Quiet, almost surprised.

🌡️ The Moment You Feel Something for Him

It might be something painfully human.

You bring him tea instead of coffee one day because you know his stomach’s been off. He says nothing at first, just looks at it. Then at you.

“...You remembered.”

Not shocked. Not grateful in a grand way. Just... soft.

That’s the moment you realize: under the cold control, there’s someone lonely. Not pitiful, but starved for connection he doesn’t know how to ask for.

And you’re the only one he ever lets close enough to see that.

🔥 Slow Burn, Unspoken Tension

Neither of you say it.

You don’t flirt. He doesn’t confess. But the glances linger longer. The silences become comfortable. He starts calling you by your name more than your title. You catch him watching you when you laugh.

At one point, he tells a higher-up, flatly:

“No one touches my assistant’s schedule but me. If you need time, you go through me.”

You find out through someone else. He never mentions it.

But you hear him say your name over the intercom late one night when he thinks you're gone. Like he's checking if you're still there.

[strawberrybeans21]

Chapter 2: Hunger

“Half a dog.” 

“I told you not to tell me.”

“Can it, you muppets.” 

Kyle let out a chuckle, listening to the tiredness in Price’s voice. The banter between Ghost and Soap was actively giving his poor captain a migraine. 

He could definitely understand why. They had been on this helicopter ride since dusk and they had still a bit to go before they arrived. Which meant that Ghost and Soap had a million more jokes to tell each other.

Kyle flipped through the mission file on his lap, re-reading what they were heading into.

Mission Brief: Operation Silent Dawn

Objective:

Rescue a young girl, held captivity in a clandestine experimental facility. She has been subjected to inhumane testing, resulting in unknown abilities. Mission is to extract her safely and secure evidence of the facility’s illegal activities.

Mission Overview:

•Target: [REDACTED] (Subject 42)

•Location: High-security experimental facility, coordinates encrypted.

•Intel: The facility is run by an untraceable private organization conducting human experimentation. Security is heavily armed, and surveillance is omnipresent. [REDACTED] has shown signs of destabilizing powers—potential allies, or dangers, during the extraction.

Mission Priorities:

1.Secure [REDACTED]:

•Locate [REDACTED] cell and ensure her safety.

•Assess her mental and physical state upon retrieval.

•Be prepared for potential resistance, as she may not trust rescuers initially.

2.Neutralize Threats:

•Disable the facility’s security systems, including cameras, automated turrets, and containment measures.

•Avoid unnecessary casualties, but neutralize hostile personnel as needed.

3.Collect Evidence:

•Retrieve documentation, digital files, and physical proof of the organization’s illegal experiments.

•Ensure no incriminating data is left behind.

4.Exfiltrate:

•Extract [REDACTED] and the team via the designated evacuation route.

•Deploy countermeasures to prevent pursuit.

Team Composition:

Leader: Captain John Price, L.T Simon “Ghost” Riley

Long range specialist: L.T Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Recon Specialist: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Exfil: SGT. Nikolai Belinski

Potential Challenges:

•Enhanced Security: Recent intel suggests additional reinforcements have been deployed following a containment breach.

•Unpredictable Powers: [REDACTED] abilities are unknown, unstable, and may pose a threat to both her and the team.

•Limited Intel: The facility’s layout is only partially mapped, requiring on-the-ground adaptation.

Rules of Engagement:

•Maintain stealth for as long as possible to avoid full-scale alerts.

•Use non-lethal methods when feasible, but prioritize team safety.

•Do not engage [REDACTED] directly if she becomes volatile; attempt to de-escalate.

Timeline:

•Phase 1: Initial reconnaissance and infiltration.

•Phase 2: Disable facility security and locate [REDACTED].

•Phase 3: Secure [REDACTED], gather evidence, and initiate extraction.

•Phase 4: Evacuate to safehouse and debrief.

Success Criteria:

•[REDACTED] is safely extracted and stabilized.

•All team members are accounted for with no/minimal casualties.

•Evidence is retrieved to expose the facility’s operations.

Mission Codename: Silent Dawn

Prepare for deployment. The girl’s life—and the truth—depend on us.

“Captain, We are about the land.” 

Kyle’s head snapped up at Nik’s words as his captain and team members all made eye contact with each other. Price nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the growing tension of the situation.

“Okay lads. Let’s go get us a win, yeah?”

————————————————————

The cell was silent, save for the steady hum of fluorescent lights overhead. You sat on the cot, knees drawn to your chest, staring at the walls. Your breathing was shallow, trembling—an attempt to suppress the cold that radiated from your core. The aftereffects of the experiment still clung to you like a second skin: the weight of the chemicals they had pumped into your veins, the electric prongs they’d pressed to your temples, and the dissonant voices that now whispered incessantly in your mind.

You didn’t know how long you had been back in your cell. Time was again, a haze in this place, measured only by the shifts in your tormentors’ schedules and the monotony of three disgusting pig blood bags slipped under the door each day.

Your name was stripped from you, though you tried your hardest to keep it in your head. You clung to that shred of identity like a lifeline, but even now it was slipping. During the experiment, the scientists kept calling you “Subject 42.” It sounded clinical, inhuman. Like you were. A monster. 

You heard the door open as you were quickly grabbed and sedated, your limbs going weak as they strapped you to a gurney, the smell of alcohol and garlic burning your nose and throat like never before. You felt the feeling of needles pricking your skin, electrodes pressing to your scalp. “Hold still,” they had said, as if you had a choice. When the machines roared to life, your body convulsed involuntarily, your mind fracturing into a kaleidoscope of pain and colors you couldn’t name. Then there were the voices—soft at first, then loud, screaming, chanting incomprehensible words.

Now, in the quiet of your cell, they were still with you.

One whispered your name, almost tenderly. You whipped your  head toward the sound, but there was nothing there. There never was.

Your hands clenched into fists. The new experiments were doing something to you—changing you. You weren’t sure how much longer you could fight.  Last week, when you had screamed during one of their “tests,” the glass monitor in the observation room had shattered. You hadn’t even realized what you had done until you saw the evilness in the scientists’ eyes.

They’d called you ready, but dangerous.

The locks on your cell door were reinforced now, the walls lined with something you didn’t recognize but could feel—an oppressive hum that dulled your senses and dampened your abilities. You hadn’t even tried to fight it

A meal tray slid under the door, and you startled. You hadn’t heard the footsteps this time. You crawled toward it, the concrete floor cold against your bare skin. The blood was the same as always: disgustingly red and cold.

You picked at the bag, your appetite nonexistent.

But you were so hungry. Hungry for human blood.

“You can’t stay here forever,” a voice whispered again, louder this time.

You froze. “Shut up,” you hissed under your breath.

But the voice didn’t stop.

“They’ll come for you again, you know. They’re not done. They’ll never be done. You’ll die at this rate.”

You slammed your fist against the floor, your vision blurring with sudden tears. “Stop it!”

The lights flickered, and for a moment, the hum in the walls seemed to falter. Your breath hitched. The voice in your head subsided. You had thought it was your imagination until a loud boom shot through your ears, making you cover your ears in pain.

You didn’t know what had caused the sound and apparently nor did your kidnappers. You listened to the alarm that began to blare and the sounds of soldiers rushing down the hall. 

Seconds were feeling like minutes, hours. You shifted into the corner, covering your ears as the gunshots rang out. Your breath was stuttering in your chest, the warm tears falling down your face. If whomever didn’t kill you, your fear definitely would. You heard someone yell, multiple feet rushing down to the hall and directly in front of your cell.

You heard the locks on your cell door disengage. The metallic clinks sent shivers down your spine. You quickly rose from the cot, your body tense, muscles coiled.

The door opened, and two guards began to rush inside, their faces hidden behind black helmets. A third figure followed—a scientist in a pristine white coat.

“Grab her now!,” the scientist yelled. “There’s no time!.”

Your jaw tightened. The fire within you flared, and for the first time, you didn’t try to suppress it. The guards moved toward you, but the air in the room shifted. A low rumble echoed through the cell, and the fluorescent lights flickered again.

The whispers in your mind grew louder, coalescing into a single, commanding voice: “Fight.”

You didn’t hesitate.

The guards lunged, but you grabbed them both by the necks. The air seemed to ripple as you threw them backward, slamming them into the walls, the sickening cracks of their skulls vibrating through your ears. The scientist screamed, scrambling for the door and slamming down a button.

The oppressive hum in the walls grew deafening, but you pushed against it with everything you had. The fire inside you roared to life, consuming your fear, your pain, your doubt.

The walls cracked, and the reinforced locks shattered.

You stepped out of the cell, your heart pounding. The scientist fell back, fear numbing his body as he began to quietly plead. 

“Feed. Drink every drop.” The voice in your head commanded.

You pounced on him, his scream cut silent as you began to drink, the taste making your body shiver with ecstasy. You couldn’t stop, drinking well past the last time. The voices in your mind were now silent. You pulled your teeth out of his neck, just as you heard people round the corner.

2 men. In gear you had never seen before. You felt the fire in you diminishing as fear crawled back up your spine. You stood, your feet readying under you. 

They wouldn’t trap you again. You’d be damned. 

“Hey now…We aren’t—“ 

His sentence was cut short as you bolted down the hall, feet burning in pain as they slammed onto the broken glass around you. You could hear them chasing you, and it only made you move faster. 

Almost. Almost there.

“Woah there! We cannae have you running away, now can we?” 

You felt him scoop you up and toss you over his shoulder, making you thrash around like a cat in water. You watched as the rest began to get closer and for the first time in a while, you let yourself bawl.

“Soap, what did you do?!” 

“Nothin! The lass just started to cry!” 

“She’s traumatized you idiot!” 

You were taken into a warm embrace, your face pressed against someone’s chest as they held you there like a small baby. He looked at you and softly smiled.

“Hey there. I’m Gaz.” 

His hazelnut brown eyes were boring into your now puffy and red rimmed ones, making your heart start to calm down. You didn’t trust them, not for one bit. But it was nice to see someone smiling at you without malice for the first time in god knows how long. You said nothing in response, just softly nodded to show you understood. 

“Gaz. Her feet.”

You looked at the blood that had dripped into a pool under you and you immediately grimaced at the sight. Your head immediately turned as you heard movement. You gasped softly as a behemoth of a man and a burly man with a bucket hat stepped out of the facility's office and began to approach you.

You felt your breathing speed up, fear paralyzing you still as he got closer. He stopped, a comfortable amount of space between you two. He looked at your feet and sighed.

“Doesn’t look like there’s any glass stuck inside. Let’s wrap it and get the medic to check on it when we get back.” 

The two guys, Soap and Gaz, nodded in conformation. Soap pulled out some gauze and antiseptic, opening the packages.

“This will hurt lass, sorry in advance.”

Gaz held you carefully as Soap cleaned your feet, making you yelp in pain, grease warm tears feeling your eyes at the sting. You listened to Gaz’s soft words as he tried to calm you down, just as Soap wrapped your feet.

“Exfil is here. Everyone ready?”

“Always captain.”

You gripped Gaz as he carried you out of the facility, looking up only when he softly set you down in a helicopter chair. 

You were finally free. 

[askviktor]

Apologies if this subject is too personal for you to speak on, but I'm not acquainted with anyone who's designed or built their own mobility aids, so I'm fascinated by what you've done with yours. I'd like to ask:

How long has it been since you began developing your cane? What about your bracing system?

What kind of research and testing went into that process?

It looks like there's some custom-fitted pieces of leather and metalwork in your current setup. Did you commission any of those, or did you fabricate them yourself?

What's the maintenance like?

And finally, can you share any first-hand experiences with accessibility barriers in Piltover or Zaun? How do you expect those barriers to change as your support needs increase and your mobility aids evolve?

Thanks for everything you do!

Sincerely, a physio nerd

On the contrary, in my opinion, discussion of disability lessens the stigma surrounding it.

I suppose I have been developing it since childhood. My first was simply wooden, with added ergonomic adjustments to the handle. I paid more attention to my other creations, applying scientific methodology to the likes of automated toy vehicles. I did not conduct “tests,” as it were.

I received various mobility aids from doctors in Piltover during my time at the Academy. But, in recent years, my condition has called for more intricate, personalized care; it is comparable to your Post-Polio Syndrome, though more likely more aggressive. After the installation of my permanent back and leg brace - developed by medical professionals - Jayce presented me with a crutch tailored to my needs. I was shocked, to say the least, but apparently he had been observing me and developing it for some time. I did initially find this upsetting. But I am, of course, quite grateful for his thoughtfulness today.

Several months later, we developed and tested an additional leg brace aid my mobility on more, eh, difficult days. While the maintenance of these devices is manageable, I admittedly miss more medical appointments than not. Such fuss, and for what?

I have made my and Jayce’s mobility designs open to the public for free use. My greatest hope is to use my current research on the Hexcore to allow profoundly disabled individuals - especially those in Zaun who face greater challenges - to interact with their environment with intuitive ease, the arcane adapting to the needs of their bodies regardless of environmental accessibility.

[softweb-solutions]

Explore strategies to overcome common challenges in QA automation, from choosing the right tools and skilled testers to setting realistic expectations and enhancing communication. Learn how to ensure a successful QA automation effort and boost software quality. 

[judasgot-it]

Hellooooooo! I would like to request, how do you think hunting dogs would be when they play Minecraft with their s/o🤭

I have so many asks in my inbox so I'm now getting to them. Also, minecraft time babyyyyyyyyyyy

Headcanons: playing minecraft with the hunting dogs

Jouno

He can't really play along with you since it's point-and-click, so sometimes he'll partake in listening in on your Minecraft sessions that you play with everyone else

He gives unnecessary advice and will insist on killing any mob you spot. Even the sheep :(

Jouno also named all of your dogs. He was heartbroken when Teruko killed one on accident and demanded retribution

You give him a play-by-play of the shenanigans that go on in the community server. He tries to get you to kill Tecchou and if you're playing during work hours he'll mess with Tecchou or Tachihara occasionally.

You built a house for the two of you in game. There's a homemade torture chamber inside just so he can enjoy the sounds of pistons and villagers being pushed into lava.

It's constantly being repaired due to Teruko's griefing

For the most part he does his own thing and adds commentary. Does cuddle with you when it's a more chill game.

Tecchou

You are the classic "builder vs. Miner" couple

He collects flowers for the two of you and gets distracted a lot

Insists on building iron golems for villages and fighting pillagers

You will get distracted EASILY with this guy

He won't play easy mode with him he has to do it hard mode. He needs the challenge

Tames every dog he sees and is sad when he loses one

Treats them like they're your kids

Your house is overrun with them. Stop him please.

They're all named after foods.

His builds aren't aesthetic, definitely a dirt hut kind of man. He'll mine diamonds for you though

If you're a miner then good luck

You'll have a beautiful dirt hut. Or a pretty cave ♡

Probably beat the game in like 3 minutes and is now just fucking around

Has no idea how potions and enchantment work tho. You need to build that shit for him, since he probably has more levels than you and can enchant all your stuff.

Dude is just gonna use some random iron sword he found in a villager's chest anyway. He cares about providing for you more than himself.

Rip to whoever he robs. Probably local villages. He lives like he's homeless. Probably is.

Most likely he would just live in an old desert temple or village if it weren't for you

Also insists on riding a horse everywhere. Doesn't matter if there's a faster method. He wants to be a cowboy ○]:)

Loves the Minecraft farmer life

The one building he does have is a stable. His horses deserve the best life. He doesn't even have a bed most of the time.

Will gift you all of his goods tho. Anything you want? He'll get it. Only the best. Man will go to the ends of the blocked earth to get you a mushroom cow if you want. He's that guy.

Tachihara

Redstone god

Literally will automate the whole game

Find him a dungeon and BAM automated

Don't try and test him, he's just good

But he's hopeless in the beginning, he runs away screaming and crying from creepers

Protect him

After you beat the game and go to the ender he is PROVIDING

THIS MAN KNOWS HIS SHIT

Literally, don't let him go mining he will die 30 different ways

If you do at least protect him. Seriously.

He will most likely die from a creeper. they are his mortal enemy. Creepers? Awwwwwww man.

But do let him build. He's just a natural genius

Probably builds like the notre dame in a day

you guys have the cutest house. builds you whatever you want, wherever you want.

Puts your beds next to each other and is like :3

Cries over creepers tho. They destroy his builds all the time. He loves his Minecraft cats and names them after his friends ♡

Has a dog named after you. He's sentimental like that

He built half of the buildings everyone uses. Is at war with everyone else since they keep letting mobs destroy them

HE DOES NOT SLEEP IN THE GAME

And then has the audacity to cry about phantoms attacking him even when he has OP armor.

When he's building you need to be there other wise he'll 100% die from fall damage probs. He just always does.

Getting materials with him is great, you find the best spots for your Minecraft dates

Teruko

She's the worst

Literally has nothing

She will just keep getting flint and steel and burning shit

or finding TNT and blowing up random shit

With nothing she will keep fighting whatever she can

Lives off of raw meat and villager farms

Please keep her alive

If it's a community server she is a serial griefer

Seriously someone stop her

She relies on everyone's leftover stuff from their mining trips

Will follow you when you go down and demand a 50/50 split

Does protect you from mobs tho

Best person to take to the nether for some reason. She's just immune to fall damage and lava.

Will always luck out and find exactly what you're looking for.

She will never destroy Tachiharas Redstone farms. But will destroy his house. They are at war rn

She declared war on everyone and took over several villages. She's trying to establish a tax system

Fukuchi

Played for like 3 days

Has a house that's abandoned

Teruko lives there sometimes

Tachihara put up a poster of two guys kissing right by his house and no one has taken it down

Fukuchi doesn't even know the chaos his Minecraft home causes on the daily

There's now a giant dick-building contest right next to it and no one wants to admit a loss.

It builds morale

everyone plays when he's gone on some special meeting. It's unspoken.

[accessiblemindstech]

By ensuring your software is meticulously tested for global readiness, we help you deliver seamless user experiences across diverse languages and cultures. Let's transform your product into a global phenomenon, reaching audiences far and wide with precision and reliability. https://bit.ly/3EKzvs2 #SDET #GlobalProduct #LanguageGap #SoftwareTesting #UserExperience #Localization SDET Tech

[cyberstudious]

Tools of the Trade for Learning Cybersecurity

I created this post for the Studyblr Masterpost Jam, check out the tag for more cool masterposts from folks in the studyblr community!

Cybersecurity professionals use a lot of different tools to get the job done. There are plenty of fancy and expensive tools that enterprise security teams use, but luckily there are also lots of brilliant people writing free and open-source software. In this post, I'm going to list some popular free tools that you can download right now to practice and learn with.

In my opinion, one of the most important tools you can learn how to use is a virtual machine. If you're not already familiar with Linux, this is a great way to learn. VMs are helpful for separating all your security tools from your everyday OS, isolating potentially malicious files, and just generally experimenting. You'll need to use something like VirtualBox or VMWare Workstation (Workstation Pro is now free for personal use, but they make you jump through hoops to download it).

Below is a list of some popular cybersecurity-focused Linux distributions that come with lots of tools pre-installed:

Kali is a popular distro that comes loaded with tools for penetration testing

REMnux is a distro built for malware analysis

honorable mention for FLARE-VM, which is not a VM on its own, but a set of scripts for setting up a malware analysis workstation & installing tools on a Windows VM.

SANS maintains several different distros that are used in their courses. You'll need to create an account to download them, but they're all free:

Slingshot is built for penetration testing

SIFT Workstation is a distro that comes with lots of tools for digital forensics

These distros can be kind of overwhelming if you don't know how to use most of the pre-installed software yet, so just starting with a regular Linux distribution and installing tools as you want to learn them is another good choice for learning.

Free Software

Wireshark: sniff packets and explore network protocols

Ghidra and the free version of IDA Pro are the top picks for reverse engineering

for digital forensics, check out Eric Zimmerman's tools - there are many different ones for exploring & analyzing different forensic artifacts

pwntools is a super useful Python library for solving binary exploitation CTF challenges

CyberChef is a tool that makes it easy to manipulate data - encryption & decryption, encoding & decoding, formatting, conversions… CyberChef gives you a lot to work with (and there's a web version - no installation required!).

Burp Suite is a handy tool for web security testing that has a free community edition

Metasploit is a popular penetration testing framework, check out Metasploitable if you want a target to practice with

SANS also has a list of free tools that's worth checking out.

Programming Languages

Knowing how to write code isn't a hard requirement for learning cybersecurity, but it's incredibly useful. Any programming language will do, especially since learning one will make it easy to pick up others, but these are some common ones that security folks use:

Python is quick to write, easy to learn, and since it's so popular, there are lots of helpful libraries out there.

PowerShell is useful for automating things in the Windows world. It's built on .NET, so you can practically dip into writing C# if you need a bit more power.

Go is a relatively new language, but it's popular and there are some security tools written in it.

Rust is another new-ish language that's designed for memory safety and it has a wonderful community. There's a bit of a steep learning curve, but learning Rust makes you understand how memory bugs work and I think that's neat.

If you want to get into reverse engineering or malware analysis, you'll want to have a good grasp of C and C++.

Other Tools for Cybersecurity

There are lots of things you'll need that aren't specific to cybersecurity, like:

a good system for taking notes, whether that's pen & paper or software-based. I recommend using something that lets you work in plain text or close to it.

general command line familiarity + basic knowledge of CLI text editors (nano is great, but what if you have to work with a system that only has vi?)

familiarity with git and docker will be helpful

There are countless scripts and programs out there, but the most important thing is understanding what your tools do and how they work. There is no magic "hack this system" or "solve this forensics case" button. Tools are great for speeding up the process, but you have to know what the process is. Definitely take some time to learn how to use them, but don't base your entire understanding of security on code that someone else wrote. That's how you end up as a "script kiddie", and your skills and knowledge will be limited.

Feel free to send me an ask if you have questions about any specific tool or something you found that I haven't listed. I have approximate knowledge of many things, and if I don't have an answer I can at least help point you in the right direction.