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nemesyaaa · 6 months ago

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american pie // frat!rafe cameron x milf!reader

summary ; you moved on with your son into a new house in front of tanneyhill after a divorce and ward offered you the help of rafe to unpack your affairs. and maybe young boys were not that bad...at least, that cocky frat boy at your service....

warnings ; so age gap. smut. +18. young boy x older woman trope. mentions of mommy's whore and milkers. p in v. forbbiden attraction. facesitting. slight of 69. mentions of belly bulge. pervertion &depravation. dirty secret. messy porn with a little plot. twisted behavior and sick attitude. momma's boy. minors DNI. be careful with the warnings.

author's note ; i thought the idea of milf!reader and frat!rafe was hot. this is not an american pie au. but enjoy 🫡‼️

“are you the kid that ward sent to help me unpack my things ?”

you had only just moved into the house across the street from tanneyhill,and now you had a new life waiting for you, it was essential for you to get along well with your neighbors. when Ward had suggested that his son come help you, you hadn't said no,especially since yours was completely lazy and already locked himself in his room to play video games. the divorce wasn’t easy for him to deal with and you respected that.

you were tired from your long journey here, so when you saw Rafe coming, you smiled directly at him. you were especially happy to see a guy with big muscles at your service for a task that you could have easily done yourself. but seeing a helpful young guy doing it for him made it even better.

he had crossed the street with his cap on backwards and his smirk kissing his teeth with his hands in the pockets.

you weren't supposed to look at him but he was charming. you waved hello to him, with a glossy and warm smile. definitely not an innocent one. you were too old to play the shy girl. and you were not into playing that game anymore.

if this gesture was friendly to you, you had awakened all of Rafe's hormones. when Ward forced him to come help you, he expected to see a horrible, bitter cougar but fuck, you were terribly far from the image he had made in his mind. you were the opposite of this idea. you were perfect, the kind of milf with divine mommy milkers who were top favorites on his private browser, the kind of woman he clearly wanted to call mama. he felt so tight in his frat pants, and he terribly regret not choosing to put on boxers because he could feel his cock hanging down through his shorts, and slapping against his naked thigh.

because damn, the flapping wasn't the sound of the wind.

he stucked his tongue in his mouth and moved closer.

“yes, ma’am. "

usually, you hated that nickname. but his thick southern accent made this much warmer. you squeezed his hand. his was sweaty.

it was terribly hot here, a tropical heat to die for. you wore a bikini top that barely hid your large breasts from spilling out of the fabric, and under your skirt protruded the string and triangle of a thong.

rafe cameron is dying to be in a scandalous POV porn video with you. and Jesus, if your tits didn't move so much every time you took a step, he wouldn't have these kinds of impure thoughts. you were too hot and he was burning.

“I hope you don’t mind. " you replied with an almost false tone.

“ pleased to be at your service, ma'am." he replied with a smile. “you know, you can call me whenever you want.”

“ward is lucky to have a son like you.”

for some reason you didn't know, your remark had unsettled him slightly. his face darkened as he followed you into the house. seeing that the atmosphere had become a little tense, you added. “I mean, you’re a good boy, rafe.”

you lost him when you called him a good boy. god, he really needed to go to the bathroom because he was behind you, and the string of your thong kept showing and teasing him. he wondered if god was testing him. he was tortured by his own perversion.

“this is my room. you can put all the things here.”

“do you want me to clean everything too?” he asked.

“it depends. you're looking for a reward, boy ?”

you looked each other straight in the eyes. the tension was suddenly electric. there was challenge in your eyes and excitement in rafe’s blue and glistening gaze. you were on the same wavelength.

"What kind of reward?" he asked.

you leaned over his ear before whispering. “tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“save those words, ma’am.”

“okay, boy.”

“oh, and those panties too.”

“About that, did you purposely not put anything under your pants?”

"You shouldn't look at me like that. ” he mocked in a playful tone while collecting your things. “ I could be your son, ma’am. ”

"That's true, but you're Ward's. So I can do whatever I want with you. And it turns out I want to play with fire."

"Come back later. I have work. But if you want us to work on something else now, I'm not against it. ”

“Are you the type to start something and not finish it?” The dig was light but it had the merit of making Rafe laugh.

“I’m more of the type to start something and finish it between your thighs. Want a ride, ma’am ? ”

“See you soon. Those big arms need to work out a little. ”

You smiled before quitting the room, leaving him with immense sexual frustration.

Of course, he was attracted to girls his age, but you gave off something terribly hot and forbidden. You looked so much like his living fantasy. He urgently needed to jerk off.

And the fact that he was holding your box of panties didn't help matters. He had gently closed the door, only ajar before rummaging through it. He could afford it after you turned him on during this whole conversation. And the fact that you hadn't told him no, that you had shown interest, was worse. He needed it now.

He was sweating without even touching himself yet. He was completely desperate even though he hadn't even touched you. He was pathetic. His hand was shaking before he even grabbed his hard cock. He had chosen a thong from the box, picking it with his fingers before starting to masturbate while he sniffed the fabric of the other. his nose was buried into the sweet scent of your lingerie. he thought of nothing but the way your pussy fitting in the panty, literally outlined it with his lips.

It was obscene and outrageous but he was needy. He had the vision of your huge, milk-filled breasts, but also this vision of you and your full belly, this vision of the completely attractive mother that he desperately wanted to fuck.

Beads of sweat ran down his forehead as he continued to jerk off, his clenching fist moving back and forth on his throbbing dick. he could feel the blood pumping through each of his veins, and the warmth of his balls. he was exploding. his hand was clumsy and trembling. his lips opened, and tongue hung out on weak moans, until pathetic crying flowing on his face.

he ended up wrapping your thong around his cock and speeding up the movement. the fabric slide so easily over his length, adjusting to his girth. he had spat on his dick, making it shine on the tip, before wetting it fully and fasted his movements. he was excited as a dog. you turned him into a mad freak.

his legs shivering as he continued to jerk himself up and down, each finger wrapped around his girth. he was on his knees, half-naked and perverted. he couldn't think, you were the only thing in his head. as he touched himself, his balls slapped heavily between his fat thighs.

all of his fingers worked around his cock, pressing against his blood-soaked flesh. the fabric went through his entire boner which became uncontainable. it was painful, the pain could be heard in his moans.

he even stuck one of your underwear in his mouth, and he actually bit into it to contain his noises while he fisted his entire cock.

as it had been more than half an hour and you no longer heard anything, you decided to leave the transat of your pool to go look up. the door to your room was ajar and you could hear muffled whispers and moaning complaints. you took off your heels to look through the door.

you wished you weren't horny, but you totally were. you were turned on by what you saw. you had a smile on your lips, and you opened the door.

you approached and when he saw you, his face changed. you crossed your arms over your chest, your breasts sticking out more. his eyes were bright, and his mouth was panting. you wanted to caress his cheek and call him babygirl but you held back. just because he was younger than you didn't mean he couldn't fuck you as well as your ex husband. you crouched in front of him, giving him a full view of your thong, but also the contours of your pussy through the fabric.

“I didn’t know you were such a pervert. I leave you alone with my things...and this is what you do with them..." you grabbed the used panties above his face.

he had ejaculated inside, his sperm had formed a wet white stain.

"what am I supposed to do with you? I could tell ward what his son is doing...Should I call your dad for being naughty, Rafe ? Or maybe, it's better to deal with me. " you played with him with some teasing.

you caught the fear in his eyes and chuckled. in reality, your threat was crueler than you thought. and you quickly understood that his father was a sensitive subject.

“apart from that, my things are put away so it’s true that I owe you something, kid.”

“Stop calling me kid.” he warned.

"Why? It's a kid's behavior to do things behind their parents' backs."

He smirked. You were obviously a mother to come up with this kind of thinking.

"Want to play the momma so bad? I can fix that. Let me breed that pussy and make you a little child to have a real reason to call him kid."

“You think you can breed me? When you were literally jerking off in my panties instead or facing me to admit how perverted you are?”

you took off his cap and collected the sperm on it.

“You think I’m too young to fuck you? ”

"No, I have no doubts about your sexual abilities. You seem in great shape."

Without taking off your panties, you began to rub yourself against the fabric of his cap. you could feel rafe's wet and still warm cum, plus the object sliding against your slit.

as you stroked yourself on his cap, you could hear him groan. It didn't take him long to regain his masturbation.

moans had started to come out of your mouth, while you humped the object knowing full well that he would put it back when he left your house with your scent still on it. you moved sensually, your hips bucking slowly so he could hear how wet you were. your body was submitted to his desires, your boobs had burst out of your bikini top.

as if in need of affection, he had wrapped his slobbering and desperate mouth around your breasts. he had sucked and licked your nipples and nibbling the piece of tender flesh between his teeth without hurting you. he had sank his mouth far enough to cause you sensations of pleasure and enjoyment. he continued, his tongue rolling from one of your tits giving slap to them with his muscle, while you held his head in your hands, caressing his neck with an affectionate gesture. he was such a good boy, your pretty boy.

he was playing with you. his mouth was toying with your tits. he loved pinching them, and let them bounce before putting his head on it. he was so horny, his dick tugging hard and painfully in his pants. he was sucking at your boobs, biting them to hear your whiny noises into his ears. his face was so cocky, so frat.

you continued to rub yourself, your pussy soaking all the fabric. sloppily kissing your huge tits, he trailed his kisses around your skin and neck. he dragged one of his hands around your throat, making you move your head slightly.

“sit on my face..."

It wasn't even an order but you complied. he clearly wanted you to fuck his mouth with your pussy. he had placed his hands on your thighs to steady you while you were on the bed. the next second his mouth was covered by your dripping slit and juices. his tongue was hot, and licked you so well that your legs compressed around his face. you could feel your clit twitching against his mouth. his hungry hands were tight against you, as he slurped the sweet taste of your cunt.

you were divine. his eager tongue was fucking you perfectly, as your weeped all your wetness into his lips. your arching clit was devoured and bullied by his horny mouth. his hands were on your waist and tummy flesh, caressing you softly as he was eating you all the way. you could feel his tongue sliding in and out, making you feel even more tight. his muscle brushing your slick, pushing deeper and deeper as the throb of your clit tickles his nose. you were in heaven. your body was tensed under his strong breath, hard spasms shivering your insides as the blow covering your juices.

your husband had never given you so much pleasure but here you were swimming in complete happiness. the way his hands gripped your body and his tongue licked you. you started driving on top of him, moving your hips as you held your breasts, and his mouth just followed the movement of your body. his tongue was fat, giving quick circles around your buds, while he held you.

you had also seen the big bulge in his pants. it was giant. all you wanted was to see his cock entirely. so you leaned over and undid his pants.

you already knew he wasn’t wearing boxers. you saw him earlier. even though you were impressed by the size, you were quick to put it in your mouth. it was like a toy. your lips were wrapped around his dick above your face. you had started to suck him. your glossy mouth was around his girth and moved up and down at the beginning slowly then faster. you kept him still with your mommy weight against his, your fat tits on top of his pelvis, and his thick cock inside your mouth. you sucked him deep in the throat.

you were thrusting in and out so fast and sloppy that you had quickly started to be a mess. your hair, your eyes, your nose, that whole mouth. you would release all your sexual frustration in this blowjob. you could feel his entire cock travel through your mouth to your throat and fill it. but you also had his tongue buried in your pussy but your moans were muffled by his dick. you were breathing hard but you were enjoying it so much.

you knew it was wrong and if ward found out you were fucking with his son, you were dead. but you couldn't resist a guy like rafe. and just because he wasn't your age didn't mean he couldn't fuck you.

you continued to pump him, then pulled his cock dripping with your own drool out of your mouth before slapping the glistening tip against your soaked cheeks. your noises were so obscene that Rafe gave you six little slaps against your pussy. you licked his tip without taking it back into your mouth. you had only teased him.

he pushed you to the side, and stood on top of you.

“you work hard.” you said, judging his big arms.

you had lurked about the size of his biceps which were quite impressive.

“ if I want to fuck pretty milfs like you, i need it. .”

“Speaking of this, what are you waiting for? Should i ask …”

“So eager to be fucked by a young boy ? got it. ”

he hadn’t waited a minute longer and he was already inside you. he could have start gently but you were so wet that it slipped so easily. you weren’t really as tight as the girls he was used to meeting but damn, he felt so good inside you.

he quickly picked up the pace, pounding into your pussy while holding your thighs. when your screams got louder, he covered your mouth with a smirk. “did you forget about the kid next door? want him to wake up because his mommy is a whore? ”

even though it was degrading, you were completely turned on by those words. mommy's whore? you could feel the fire in your pussy ignite as he fucked you roughly against your own mattress.

“r-rafe…” it was so pathetic to be bullied by a guy younger than you.

but he was incredibly good. he was buried in your walls, you could feel every inches of his cock in your canal pumping in and out. both of your bodies slammed against each other. and your pussy squeezed him like a vice which made him even more excited.

“ take it. i thought it was not a big deal for you ? can have a fucking baby inside your belly for 9months but can't take that fucking dick of mine inside you for few minutes ? stop acting, babe, because you're only making it worse for you. ”

the way your breasts moved as you took him, how your body bounced on the mattress, how your moans caressed his hand. you were perfect. and a fucking milf..he couldn't wait to brag about this to his frat friends.

your pussy was dripping at the entrance and soaking him completely. you were unable to think of anything. the way he fucked you made it hard for you to think, and the smacking sounds of your cunt against his dick werent helpful at all. aside from saying his name through his hand, your voice muffled, you weren't good for anything.

"look at that pussy and belly, taking my cock so well. i bet you wanted a second baby so bad."

his words were outrageous but the more dirty and unhealthy it was, the craziest slut it made you.

degradation was your thing so you had no desire to stop him in his way. he thrust in and out, driving all his large cock into your soaked walls, fucking you all the way to your tummy without mercy. his big cock hitting your insides repeatedly as he admired himself through his thrusts. “ do you like your belly with my cock inside it ? ”

he had crushed part of your face through the mattress before leaning over you as he continued to work you, his tip touching your spot. your legs were trembling, your eyes were watery and your mouth was panting. you were so fucking dirty.

“crying? throbbing? begging? that kid is fucking you too good, ma'am. “he mocked you nasty. “ and that sweet pussy fits my cock very well. can you feel that ? ”

“ r-rafe…! ”

“ sorry, i can't hear ya well, those mommy milkers are bouncing too loud. but it doesn't matter, i'm not in the mood to listen to you, you're just gonna take it until i’m tired. ”

when he started to speed up because he knew he was going to cum, you didn't know how many minutes he had been inside you and fucking you hard like a ragdoll. but it's been a long, long time. you had already reached orgasm three times. and it was like he was playing with you. he wanted to see you tired and on the verge of explosion. rafe wanted to see you completely worn out. he wanted to feel like he used you extremely well.

“the roles have changed. I'm the one giving the rewards now. " and he came, thicks white loads filling your sweet cunt as he spoke, letting a warm pressure inside your belly.

“ what if i'm pregnant ? ”

“ nobody will be surprised that you've got another baby. they would be more suprised about the daddy.”

“ rafe. i'm serious. imagine if ward knows…”

“ this is not his business. i can take care of my shit. “

you gave him a worried look. he had gathered his things and gotten dressed while you were still in bed.

he kissed you on the forehead. “you have my number..."

“i have more than your number now, rafe.” you joked gently.

in the evening, you connected to your Instagram. you wanted to stalk Rafe on social media. And he had posted something on Threads. Okay, you knew he wasn't the kind of disciplined and courteous guy but you expected better from him. The fact that he was telling everyone that he fucked you and calling you milf like you were a score on his scoreboard was really not cool.

The next day you got ready and went to knock at Tannyhill. Ward opened you with a huge smile. “Hello sweet, how are you?”

"Everything's great. Your son is very adorable."

Ward had brought you into the house, and you had seen the whole family at the table. “Oh am I disturbing?” you pretended to be concerned.

“No, of course not.”

"Actually, it'll be quick. I heard your daughter Wheezie was looking for a tutor. And I wanted to offer myself. It'll be my way to thank your son."

While saying that, your gaze was fixed on Rafe who also didn't take his eyes off you.

It didn't take long for Ward to introduce you to the family.

After the meal, Rafe had taken you upstairs to his room before pinning you against the wall.

“What’s your problem?!”

"No, what's your problem?! Tutoring Wheezie? Don't make me believe you have any degree? Girls like you don't seem to bother studying."

"Wow...you can be really mean when you want. I saw the offer online, and I volunteered, that's all. No need for a fuss. I need to work, rafe. It's called life. ”

"Don't make me think you don't have intentions behind it. Suddenly you want to help Wheezie?"

He had laughed, his tongue poking inside his cheek. “Well, okay.”

" What ? "

"I needed some new faces for my frat house. Your son will do it. Don't you mind that he joined my party? It will have plenty of choices, there is a lot of girls there. Hotter than his fucking brat mom. "

“I beg your pardon?”

“What? It’s the frat concept, we’re brothers. And i'm gonna help my new bro. ”

"You really want to play that? You know, tutoring is easy. But you know what's even easier for me Rafe? It's being a mother. Being a mother to Wheezie is..."

“You’re really crazy, don’t you?”

“I think I just found someone who matched my freak then.”

“I dare you to approach Wheezie.”

“See you soon, Rafe. Oh and I forgot to say. ”

“ What ? ”

“ Did your father always be friendly with ‘neighbors' or your stepmom is so boring that he wouldn't mind having an affair ? I'm joking. Call me when you have time. Oh and you should invite me to those frat parties.”

“ Why i will do that ? ”

“ Stop bragging about it, your bros want some shows, Rafe. And i'm willing to give them. Just for you. ”

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bcoders · 2 years ago

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#css browser compatibility #css browser compatibility issues #css compatibility #cross browser compatibility #css compatibility test #css for cross browser compatibility #browser compatibility

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yethiconsulting · 1 month ago

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Avoiding Common Pitfalls in App Test Automation: Lessons from the Field

App test automation can dramatically improve testing speed, accuracy, and coverage—but only if done right. Many teams dive in with enthusiasm, only to hit roadblocks that slow them down or lead to flaky, hard-to-maintain test suites.

This blog highlights common pitfalls seen in real-world projects and how to avoid them. From choosing the wrong tools for your app type (e.g., using web-focused frameworks for native apps) to over-automating unstable features, we’ll explore mistakes that cost time and resources.

We'll share lessons on poor test design, such as hard-coded waits, unoptimized locators, and lack of modular test architecture, which often lead to fragile scripts. Another key issue we'll address is skipping proper test data management and failing to clean up after test runs—both of which can lead to inconsistent results.

Additionally, we’ll cover challenges like not integrating tests into CI/CD early enough, neglecting test reporting, or ignoring test flakiness. Each pitfall will be paired with a solution or best practice drawn from real QA experiences.

By learning from these common mistakes, you can strengthen your automation efforts and build a more reliable, scalable testing process—faster and smarter.

#automation testing #no code test automation #codeless test automation #api automation #api automation testing tools #test data management #cross browser testing tools #web application testing tools

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ikuharaisabitch · 10 months ago

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Fundraiser for Palestinian student in Poland

I’m posting this fundraiser on behalf of @yahya-abuhassan, Palestinian who’s been studying in Poland for the last 2 years. His entire family, including his older brother who worked as a senior software engineer in Germany, had to flee to the south of Gaza after their home in the north was destroyed.

They are currently living in tent in al-Mawasi, so-called “safe area” that was nevertheless relentlessly bombed by Israel. Yahya is fundraising money to get them to Egypt through the Rafah crossing.

He needs to raise approximately 47 000 $ (enough to evacuate 7 adults and 3 children and pay for their initial living expenses in Egypt), and his fundraiser is only at ~20 000 $!

Short term goal is to raise around 2 500 $ which is the remaining cost to evacuate his older brother with his family, including his elderly mom and cover initial survival costs after evacuation. His brother can then return to work in Germany and hopefully earn enough money to help with faster evacuation of the rest. Right now we raised 0/2500$. I will reblog this post with updates. This fundraiser has been verified by Polish collectives, non-governmental organisations, refugee & human rights activists including Polish-Palestinian sociologist Emil Al-Khawaldeh. Yahya's situation and fundraiser was also described in our national edition of Newsweek. You can find more details in English description of the fundraiser in the link below.

If you are a foreigner please do not hesitate to donate. Pomagam.pl is the biggest Polish fundraising platform which enables donations via PayPal and credit card. I have tested it with American friends and it works perfectly well. 1$ equals to 4 PLN. You can be charged with intercontinental payment fee, which to my knowledge is usually around 3$ but you will see the amount before payment. Your bank may also require 2-factor-verification before proceeding, which usually means simply pasting a code from your phone to a browser.

#palestine #poland

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andromeda-pleiades · 3 months ago

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Just Trust Me

WORD COUNT: 1,828

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Back by popular demand ٩(◕‿◕)۶, I've decided to make this a 6 part series.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The morning light seeps through the blinds, casting soft golden streaks across the bedroom. Simon’s arm is draped over your waist, his slow, steady breathing pressing against your back. You keep your eyes shut, feigning sleep, listening for any sign that he’s awake.

Minutes pass before he stirs. He presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder before rolling out of bed. You wait, forcing yourself to breathe evenly, until you hear the shower turn on. Only then do you dare to move.

Downstairs, the scent of coffee fills the air, but something feels off. Simon moves too quietly, his footsteps deliberate. When you enter the kitchen, he’s already at the stove, humming softly—yet the sound feels more like an act than a habit. He glances at you, eyes scanning your face, before flipping an omelet onto your plate.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he muses, taking a sip of his coffee. “Not feeling sick, are you?”

You shake your head. “Just tired.”

He nods but doesn’t look convinced. His fingers trail across your wrist as he sets down his mug, a slow, almost idle touch—but it lingers. Every word, every gesture, feels like a test.

After breakfast, Simon settles in the living room with his laptop. His presence in the house makes your skin itch, but you keep up appearances, waiting for an opportunity to be alone.

Hours later, Simon finally steps outside to take a call. You move quickly, slipping into the office and grabbing your phone. Your fingers move with purpose, typing in the search bar:

How to leave an abusive relationship safely.

You hit enter. Nothing happens.

The page doesn’t load. You frown, refreshing it, but the screen remains blank. You try again:

Shelters for domestic abuse survivors near me.

Still nothing.

Confused, you navigate to your browser settings, clicking through menus until your stomach drops.

Search history linked to external device.

Your hands go cold.

You scroll further, heart pounding as you see the timestamps. Every site you’ve visited, every search, every desperate late-night inquiry—Simon has seen it all.

The room tilts.

Your mind races back through the past few weeks. The way Simon had made little comments—“What made you think of that?” “That’s an odd thing to look up.”—hadn’t been coincidences.

He had known.

He had always known.

Your breath comes faster, chest tightening. You can’t even look up how to leave. There is no safe way to plan this.

A shadow moves in the doorway.

You whip around, shoving your phone under the desk as Simon leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. His expression is unreadable.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

You nod too quickly. “Yeah. Just—just checking something for work.”

Simon’s lips twitch, almost amused. He steps closer, reaching out, and for a horrible second, you think he’s going to take your phone. But instead, he tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“You know you can always come to me, right?” he murmurs. “If something’s on your mind?”

The weight of his words presses against your ribs. You nod. “Of course.”

He smiles. “Good girl.”

He leaves the room, his footsteps slow, deliberate. You don’t move until you hear the front door open and shut behind him.

Then, and only then, do you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding.

That night, after Simon falls asleep, you try again.

This time, no Google searches. You open a notes app and type instead:

He’s tracking everything. I need a way out.

You go to delete it—but before you can, the text disappears.

Gone. Erased.

A cold chill races down your spine.

Frantic, you type again.

Can anyone see this?

It vanishes the moment you press enter. Like you never even wrote it.

Simon doesn’t just see your searches. He controls what you can say. What you can keep.

You stare at your phone, fingers trembling. There is no way to look up an escape plan. No way to even write things down.

You are trapped.

You stare at the dark ceiling, heart pounding, as Simon breathes evenly beside you. The weight of the realization crushes down on you, pressing like an iron vice against your ribs.

If you’re going to get out, you can’t rely on your phone. You can’t rely on the internet. You can’t even rely on your own thoughts staying private.

You’re completely, utterly alone in this.

But then… an idea.

Kyle.

Kyle. The only person who might help. Unless... No. He wouldn't be working with Simon. Would he?

You close your eyes, willing your breathing to slow. If Simon is watching for any change in behavior, you can’t let him see the shift in your mind.

So you do what you’ve done so many times before. You bury the fear deep.

You pretend.

You smile in your sleep.

And you start planning in the only place he can’t reach.

Inside your head.

The house is quiet. Simon left fifteen minutes ago, his departure punctuated by a kiss to your forehead and a murmured, “Be good.” Now, you’re finally alone.

You move quickly, slipping into the office and shutting the door behind you. Simon’s desk is organized with clinical precision, but his laptop sits open, the screen dimmed in sleep mode, as if he expects to return soon.

The desktop screen glows to life, requiring a password. Your stomach clenches. You try the basics first—birthdays, anniversaries, military references—but nothing works. Frustration bubbles under your skin until you pause, recalling a memory.

“Captain always said to keep it simple,” Simon had once mentioned, laughing over beers. “Overthinking gets you caught.”

You type the name Tommy and hit enter.

The screen unlocks.

Your breath catches, but you force yourself to focus. If he’s monitoring your phone, there’s no telling what kind of security he has on his computer. But this might be your only chance.

Rows of folders are scattered across the desktop. One catches your eye immediately: OpSec_T141. Your pulse quickens. Task Force 141—Simon’s unit.

You open it. Rows of files populate the screen, names and numbers blurred together in a flood of information. You skim past mission reports and encrypted documents until you find something chillingly familiar.

Your name.

A lump forms in your throat as you click it open. Detailed notes spill across the screen. Timelines. Psychological assessments. Weaknesses. Preferences. Even things you’ve never voiced aloud—your tendency to hesitate in confrontations, your instinct to placate instead of fight.

It’s all there: your schedule, your habits, your fears. The photos are the worst—images of you at the park, at the grocery store, sitting alone on the couch. Your breath turns shallow. He’s been watching you far longer than you realized.

You bite back a sob, forcing yourself to keep reading. One section stands out, labeled Emotional Vulnerabilities. You skim it, horrified. Every private fear you’ve ever shared with Simon is laid out like a blueprint.

Prefers to de-escalate conflict.

Struggles with confrontation.

Easily guilted.

Tendency to freeze under stress.

Your mind flashes to past arguments, to the moments where he’d twisted your own emotions against you. The times he made you feel irrational for doubting him. The way he always knew exactly what to say to make you stay.

Every interaction, every emotional response, cataloged like a case study.

You scroll further. There are other names. Kyle Garrick—Gaz. A woman you don’t recognize. You click on her profile. At the top, the file name reads:

Price’s Woman.

Your stomach churns. The picture attached is grainy but clear enough. A woman with dark, tired eyes, standing beside a man just out of frame. Price.

You click through the notes. The similarities to your file are eerie. Psychological breakdowns. Manipulation tactics. Control strategies. The last entry is chillingly abrupt.

Status: Secured.

Your hands shake as you snap photos of the files. A sudden noise outside makes you flinch. You hurriedly close everything, heart pounding as you return the laptop to its original state.

When Simon walks through the door minutes later, you’re already seated on the couch, pretending to scroll through your phone.

He smiles at you, easy and warm. Too easy.

“Miss me?”

You force yourself to smile back.

The weight of your discovery presses heavy against your chest. Simon isn’t acting alone. Price trained him for this.

You were never supposed to find out.

Dinner is quiet, the soft clink of silverware against porcelain filling the space between you. Simon’s gaze lingers on you more than usual, studying your every movement. You keep your expression neutral, offering small smiles, playing the role he wants you to play. Inside, your mind races with everything you discovered earlier.

“So,” Simon starts, setting down his fork. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Your fingers tighten around your own utensils. “What is it?”

His smile is easy, affectionate. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, elegant box. “A gift.”

A cold weight settles in your stomach. You force yourself to keep your hands steady as you take the box and lift the lid. Inside, nestled in black velvet, is a delicate silver bracelet. The design is simple, understated—something you might have picked for yourself.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, running a finger over the smooth metal. You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker with satisfaction.

“I wanted you to have something to remind you of me while I’m gone.” He leans forward, brushing a kiss against your temple. “And something to keep you safe.”

Your throat tightens. The implication is clear. You turn the bracelet over in your hands, pretending to admire the craftsmanship while discreetly searching for anything unusual. It doesn’t take long—there, near the clasp, a barely visible indentation.

A tracker.

You swallow down the nausea rising in your chest. Of course, Simon would frame it as protection, as a sign of love. But this is just another layer of control.

You force yourself to look at him, let warmth seep into your voice. “Thank you, Simon. I love it.”

He beams, taking your wrist and fastening it for you. His fingers linger, thumb grazing over your pulse. “I love you too.”

The words feel heavier than usual. You smile back, keeping the mask firmly in place.

Tonight, you decide, you won’t just endure this. You won’t just wait. You’ll start pushing, subtly, carefully. Testing the edges of the cage he’s built around you.

You tilt your head, letting your expression shift into something thoughtful. “When do you leave?”

“Next week,” he says, studying your reaction. “It won’t be long.”

You let your smile falter, just slightly. “I’ll miss you.”

Simon’s eyes soften, and he reaches for your hand. “I’ll miss you too, sweetheart. But you’ll be safe. You’ll be here.”

You nod, feigning acceptance. But inside, something shifts. He wants you to stay in place, trapped under his watchful eye. That means your time is running out.

You need to act soon. And you need to be careful.

#call of duty #call of duty mw2 #cod #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #ghost #simon riley x reader #captain john price #john soap mactavish #andromeda pleiades

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merkavahpartyvan · 9 months ago

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Ars Goetia 2.0: An Interactive Demon Index

A cross-referenced index of the spirits/demons listed in the Ars Goetia / Lesser Key of Solomon. List demons by ability/power, zodiac sign, symbols, animals and more. There is no back button, try refreshing if you get "stuck." Updated editions possible in the future. Built with Twine by Felix Warren, published to the Internet Archive under Public Domain license.

Want to see all the demons that can control the weather? Want to know all the disciplines that goetic demons can teach? Want to find out which demon has his own personal band? Want to do that by skimming an extremely brief, cross-referenced index of demons in the Ars Goetia? Then have at.

I downloaded this myself to test it. I found the best luck by downloading the zip file, then opening the HTML file inside with my browser. Opening the HTML file directly from Internet Archive causes a weird code error.

Enjoy the book! 📖

#demons #goetia #ars goetia #grimoire #demonology #occult #aleister crowley #old books read quick #twine game

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qacraft2016 · 3 months ago

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When to stop testing in software testing?

Software testing is essential part of Software Development Life Cycle. Without testing, software deployment in the market is not possible. So that we have two criteria to check software in software testing that is – Entry Criteria also called start testing and Exit Criteria also called end testing.

In entry criteria, we start testing as soon as possible when development starts, find the bugs in early stage of development so that it will be easy to fix. In exit criteria, there are some metrics which we follow to decide when to stop testing or how much testing we required.

When is it enough testing?

Deciding how much testing we need to do is very critical task. As long as continuous development is going on , we required testing also , so that we can say that our product is stable and reliable .But still there are some factors where we decide that enough testing has been done or not.

The main aim of testing is not mean to find out many defects in the software but to make sure that the application should be work as per client expectation without any disturbance. No one can give us assurance that the software is totally bug free or testing has been done completely.

Every software is not easy to test, some are complex too so that they may have unlimited bugs to detect and hence it’s impractical to test it.

So the fact is that testing is endless process which continue till the software exists. So we cannot say that we can find all the defects in software and now stop the testing.

When to stop testing:

Some are the points which let us know that when to stop testing:

When test cases are completed with maximum area coverage.

When the defect ratio drop from the calculated ratio.

When the budget came to its end.

When the release deadlines have been reached.

What are the Completion or Exit Criteria?

The exit criteria means it is based on the condition in which the test cycle ends. All the test cases which are pass, fail or skip are the factor that decide the exit criteria.

What are the Completion or Exit Criteria?

The exit criteria are nothing but the conditions or criteria based on which the test cycle ends. All the Coverage (Pass, Defect) and test completion are factors that decide the exit criteria.

Below are the points:

Defect closure rate: This criteria is based on the rate that how many defects are found and how many defects fixed.

Test case coverage: This criteria based on percent of test cases means how many test cases should be executed and passed successfully before testing can be considered as complete.

Time-based criteria: When testing is limited for a specific time period such as certain number of days, weeks, or months at that movement time-based criteria used to determine when testing must be stopped.

What should be present in the Exit Criteria?

The exit is decided at the beginning of the test cycle means in the Test Planning stage and it also depends on the project and requirements of projects. Below are the points

Which say that when to stop testing.

Time and budget constraints

Stakeholder approval

Risk-based analysis

Defect closure rate

Testing can be Stopped When:

When all the criteria like pass rate and defect rate should be achieve.

Defect rate is minimal and manageable.

The Stockholder review the satisfied result and provide sign-off

Conclusion

When to stop testing? Is just a question. As we all know that “Testing is unstoppable process” . While using application suddenly bug found then again testing lifecycle begins.

#qacraft #software testing #selenium #cross browser

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coffeecat1983 · 1 month ago

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Stobotnik: "As the Song Says" pt 11

Pt 10 here

Finishing with bandaging the scratches, Robotnik cleaned up and taking the bloodied wash cloth and shirt, tossed them into the laundry hamper. He'd have to make sure to get one of his bots to wash that load or do it himself, lest Stone find it and ask questions. Fetching a clean shirt, he slipped it on and with Bumble perched on his shoulder, the pair went to the lab. Taking a seat, Robotnik growled at the screens as the test results popped up. "Damn it!" his fists slammed into the desk. "What am I getting wrong?!" He leaned forward, silently cursing his medical training...

"You wanted to speak with me, sir?" "Ah, Ivo, please, take a seat." Twenty-four-year-old Ivo Robotnik took the offered seat, crossing his legs as his fingers tapped irritably on the well cushioned armrests. The older man across from him rubbed the bridge of his nose, his fingers smudging his glasses. "Ivo, first off, let me say congratulations on your latest grades-" "Ah!" the younger man held up a hand. "Dean Fowler, you know my feelings on such pointless talk." The Dean's eye twitched. "Of course. To the matter at hand. You should know I managed to talk Edelson out of pressing charges, and as it stands right now, you are to switch to the evening class for the remainder of this semester." "Me?!" Robotnik shot to his feet. "Why should I change to the night class?! This is my second Ph.D! He's only here on his precious daddy's dime and he spends most of it on the football team!" He began pacing. "Which I might add is a ridiculous waste of money! The last time the lab was updated was when? 1955? I'm left working in the filth and crumbs and now you want to shove me in some class that caters to the bottom feeders of this university!" "Mister Robotnik, that's enough." The Dean's tone spoke volumes. You're on thin ice and it's breaking. "Consider yourself lucky that I've not asked you to transfer, or worse, expel you over this 'incident'. Edelson is going to have permanent hearing damage and a few scars after your little stunt. Take the evening classes or you will be escorted off campus property." Robotnik stood. "Very well, 'sir'." he spat out the title. "I agree to these 'terms' you've set up." Without another word, he stormed out. He'd finish his Ph.D then get out of this cesspool of inadequate, feeble minds. Perhaps his next goal should be to further his research into robotics instead of medical. Yes, that seemed a sound choice.

"I knew I should have taken that medical genetics degree." he grumbled. It then hit him. Medical training. Stone had extensive medical training, and had been busy lately. Of course the man was researching his own illness! Which when combined with the doctor's, could mean actual results. A few keystrokes and everything from Stone's computer was now on one of the holo-screens. Picking through the open browser tabs and programs he was surprised to find no medical research was present. Recipes, some banking info, a collection of playlists, all daily things that held no real use to him. Selecting another tab, he inhaled sharply, making Bumble beep in alarm.

The bold text on the screen read 'How to tell a loved one you're dying'.

Waking to his alarm, Stone dressed and glancing at himself in the bathroom mirror, he cringed. Dark circles betrayed how sick he'd been feeling. Opening the medicine cabinet he took out the bottle of concealer he'd bought a week ago. A careful application of the creamy mixture and he was ready to start the day. Stepping into the hall his ears were met with silence. That wasn't good. Ignoring the eerie stillness he hurried to the kitchen and took a deep breath. He'd always found the kitchen to be a comforting spot, even when he apprenticed in France and it was busy it was an atmosphere he took joy in. Grabbing the black apron from the hook he then began gathering ingredients. As he worked he heard a low beep and something bumped his arm. "Heh, good morning Abbott." Abbott beeped his lower pitched beep and from nearby Costello beeped a higher pitched reply. Their sounds were the only way Stone could tell them apart at first, until Abbott had bumped into the kitchen island and given his hull a slight scrape that resembled a sideways smile. Giving both Badniks pats and a rub under the 'chin', Stone looked up in surprise as the kitchen door opened and Robotnik stalked in, not looking around as he took a seat at the little dining table. "Stone." "Good morning, doctor." This definitely wasn't good. Robotnik's braid was undone, his hair hanging down the left side of his head in messy tangles. He was dressed all in black, his long coat wrapping around him. His eyes held a strangely haunted look, one Stone hadn't seen before. Quietly prepping the doctor's morning latte, he brought it over to the table. "If it's all right, I was going to play some music while I make breakfast. Is there anything you want to hear?" he ventured. His question was met with a low grunt of "Please yourself." Figuring if the doctor didn't like the melody he'd speak up or leave, Stone tapped at a screen that was built into the wall. A cheerful, bouncing song rang out and Stone began singing along not only to the English lyrics but the ones that were in Latin as well. Robotnik listened with a touch of amusement. "Agent, I didn't know you could speak Latin." "Expedite et confidenter, doctor." Stone replied smoothly. "The boarding school I attended was Catholic based. I admit though most of the required religious studies have slipped my mind." Robotnik raised an eyebrow. "Yet you recite the praise in the song flawlessly." That bright smile. Had Robotnik been standing he'd have had to grab something to steady himself at the sight of it. "While I don't keep up with the church for reasons, I have a soft spot for the art of dead languages."

Robotnik snorted, folding his arms. "At least your Latin is better than your drumming. You are the worst air drummer I've ever seen." "And you're the best air guitarist I know." The pair both paused before breaking into laughter, both remembering that moment in the mech from nearly two years ago. "That was, dare I say it, fun." Robotnik agreed. Stone hummed happily, turning towards the stove. As he did the doctor caught sight of the scar on his face. It was fun, until you were hurt. The kitchen quieted, a softer song playing as Stone began to dice the peppers for breakfast burritos. "Doctor, a personal question, if I may?" "I reserve the right to refuse to answer." "Of course." Stone pushed the peppers off the cutting board and reached for a potato next. "It's just I noticed that in the past month, you've stopped your dance breaks. Did something happen?" Abbott and Costello, who had been hovering nearby, drifted away to the shadows as the doctor's mood shifted to match the dark clothing he wore. "It's nothing. I just have more pressing matters right now." Their eyes met. "A personal question back, agent." Robotnik leaned on the table, the lion locked onto his prey. "How are you feeling?" "That's small talk-" A fist hit the table. "Don't give me that, sycophant! Answer me!" Stone met his gaze, same as he had the day they had met. "I'm fine, doctor."

Swift strides and the scientist was face to face with him. "Don't ever lie to me, Stone." he hissed. Turning around he glanced back. "Wash that damn makeup off, it's the wrong shade." He stormed out, and a little later Stone entered the lab with a breakfast tray that he left on the desk. It wasn't lost on him that when he entered, Square Hammer by Ghost began to play.

To be continued...

#fanfic #stobotnik #cue the musical angst!#ivo robotnik #agent stone #some blood

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