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D-bug  Flutter VPN is a mobile app Flutter for Android and iOS. It boasts unlimited proxy and a Laravel admin panel for management. However, since it’s a template, it likely requires further development to be a fully functional D-bug Flutter VPN app. Read More...

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || Ch. 32]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s while Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3k🌶️

ao3 link

The billboard across the street shifts from casting a blue glow into Matt’s apartment to a warm purple one. It is bright enough for you to be able to see your keyboard, but low enough that everything is still in shadow. You can maneuver around easily enough, which makes it the perfect level considering you are apparently the only one in your family who needs light to do so. 

Paired with the overall lack of decor, it fosters a nice working environment, with the ambience of the city providing the perfect background noise. 

You have a fair bit of invoicing to catch up on, so you have set yourself up at the dining table as Matt readies himself for his own night of working. Luckily, all the excitement of temporarily moving into a new place left your little Mouse exhausted and getting her down to sleep was as easy as it has ever been. You wish you would be able to go off to Dreamland as quickly as she does, but you know your brain won’t let you drift off without hours and hours of worrying first.

“You don’t need to wait up for me,” Matt says for about the millionth time. He’s changed mostly into his red Devil suit, and it still baffles you how different he looks in it versus his Lawyer suit. It is like he’s been possessed or switched out with a twin - it’s not necessarily evil but it is a completely different aura. All his fun and charm has been replaced with a caged animal ready to rip someone’s throat out, and you just happen to be his keeper who he knows isn’t a threat. He’s of no danger to you, but anyone outside these walls is fair game. 

“I have about forty emails to answer and even more orders to review and this is the only time I’ll be able to sit down and focus on doing all that. These are my working hours, too,” you reply as you finish connecting your VPN. “Plus, I’ll be up worrying until you are home safe. Killing two birds with one stone.” 

“No killing anything,” he chides, his voice dropping an octave. It sends a pleasant shiver up your spine, and you are starting to think you may like this Devil-y side of Matt. 

“You know I can’t even kill a cockroach.” 

He huffs from across the room, then in a few long strides, he’s behind you, putting his large, gloved hands on your shoulders and rubbing at them, “I mean it. If you finish before I’m back, try to get some sleep. You need it.” 

You let your head fall forward and enjoy the way his thumbs dig into your muscles. “I need to make sure I get my work hours logged. When you get home, we can both get some sleep.” 

Behind you, a pleased rumble comes from Matt’s chest. He bends forward and nuzzles just above your ear, whispering in that deep voice that makes your core clench, “call it ‘home’ again.” 

Your eyes flutter shut as your entire being heats up again. It isn’t just his voice and actions - it's the implication of his request - that he wants a home with you. He wants your home to be here with him. You can’t even take a moment to think about it, because you just want to please the Devil behind you. 

“Come home to us.” 

He buries his nose into your hair and inhales deeply while his hands tighten on your shoulders. He nods after a moment, then you feel him have to force himself to step away. 

“I’ll always come home to you. I swear on my life.” 

You resist the urge to follow after him and say something cheesy or dramatic. You stay planted in your seat instead, eyes still closed and breathing through your nose, trying to calm your fast beating heart. 

Matt strides back to where his gloves and helmet wait for him, and you listen as he dons the last pieces of his armor. Only when he has fully become the Devil do you let yourself speak again, hoping to encourage the beast coming to life inside of him.

“Keep the Kitchen safe. For me. For Minnie.” 

----

It’s closing in on three am when you hear the crunch of boots on gravel coming from the roof above you. You expected Matt to be home closer to one in the morning, but that was just a time you made up. 

Your emails are still on your screen, so you close them out and clock out just as the door on the landing opens and the Devil returns to the apartment. There is a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and you scrunch up your nose in confusion as he makes his way down the stairs.

“I thought you would be asleep by now,” he growls out and you can instantly tell the poor man is exhausted. 

You are up and out of your seat in an instant, making your way to him with your water bottle in hand. You hold it out to him as he comes to a stop in front of you and he quickly drops the bag to his feet in exchange for chugging the rest of your water.

“I told you I had a lot of work. Are you okay? What is with the - “You cut yourself off as the light coming from the billboard changes from red to yellow and you see there is a slice of suit missing from Matt’s arm. “You’re hurt!”

You don’t give him the chance to deny or explain - you turn and hurry back to the kitchen to get the first aid kit. 

“I’m fine,” he grumbles from behind you. You hear something thunk on the ground and assume it is his helmet. “It went through and through.” 

The words take a second to process and color drains from your face as they do. “You were shot?” 

“I’m fine,” he insists, a small hint of annoyance in his voice. “I just need to wrap it.”

You yoink the first aid kit down from where it’s hidden in a cabinet and whirl back around the face Matt. He’s removed his helmet and gloves and is in the process of taking off his boots. Your mind swirls into overdrive, flying back to your binder pages about gunshot wounds and you find yourself huffing at the Devil as practicality fills you. 

“Wrap it?” You almost scold as you march back to him. His head jerks up and his brows furrow, but your Mom Mentality is quicker than the Devil. “You can’t just wrap it; it needs to be cleaned and disinfected. Who knows what is dripping off your suit into it. You can’t punch away an infection, Matt.” 

His face slackens into confusion as you move to squat in front of him so you can open the kit and begin to rummage through it. 

“What..?”

“I need to clean it,” you repeat as you inspect the meager contents of the kit. “And disinfect it. I’m not very good at stitches yet, but you have butterfly stripes,” you hold up the pack as you find it and continue your rambling, “and gauze, so we can wrap it, and hopefully that should be good enough. Do you know what caliber it was? Was it a hollow point?”

He doesn’t answer you right away, and you assume he is trying to remember what happened. You focus on reading the different packets you pick up, setting aside wipes and antibiotic ointments. If it was through and through, you shouldn’t have to get out any debris, but you add the tweezers to your pile anyway. Your mind is a step-by-step checklist of everything you need and you really hope all your studying has prepared you for your first real wound cleaning. You are a pro at scraped knees and paper cuts, but a bullet wound is a completely different level. 

“What?” Matt repeats and you look up to see he looks completely dumbfounded. “You…aren’t angry?”

It is your turn to be confused. 

“Why…would I be angry?” you ask slowly, trying to understand why he is asking. “You..didn’t mean to get shot, did you?” He shakes his head slowly, and your lips turn down into a frown. “Then..I’m not angry.” 

You slowly sit yourself down and cross your legs, trying to process your own feelings around your Fix It and Make Things Better thoughts, “I’m scared that you got hurt. And I’m worried..I worry about you every night when you go out, but this…this is small, right? It’s through and through and in your arm and you aren’t bleeding everywhere, and you are standing on your own. You’re…you’re okay. You’re hurt. You’re hurt. But you’re okay…you’re okay and I just need to make sure you stay okay.” Tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes, and you shake your head to chase them away. “Please let me make sure you are okay.”

Slowly, Matt kneels in front of you and takes your face in his hands. He thumbs away a tear that managed to escape before leaning in to press his forehead to yours. 

“I’m okay,” he whispers, the Devil gone from his voice, and he sounds so so tired. “I’m okay, my darling. Let me get out of this and you can clean it, yeah? Then we can go to bed.” 

You press into his touch, needing it to ground you and help you keep your emotions in check. 

Matt’s hurt, but he is okay. It’s just a little wound, something you can handle. You know he is going to get hurt, going out and acting as a vigilante, and it isn’t always going to be bruises and split knuckles. 

People shoot at him. They try to stab him. They might have weird fire breath or laser beams. 

He’s going to get hurt, but right now he is okay. He just needs to be patched up and that is something you can do. 

You’ve been practicing and studying to make sure he will stay okay. 

You take a shaky breath and center yourself, then let your lips turn up into a small smile, “You’re all sweaty, you need a shower before bed. Or Minnie will complain that you are stinky in the morning.”

Matt huffs a small laugh and tips his head up to kiss your forehead. “Well, according to her my whole apartment is stinky and dusty and cold.”

“That’s why we are playing housekeeper tomorrow,” you whisper as he pulls away. 

You allow yourself to wipe your eyes with your nightshirt as Matt removes the rest of his armor, leaving him in just his boxers. You then focus on double checking all the items you’ve gathered, letting your mind go back into Practical mode versus Emotional. 

“Why do you have a duffel bag?” you finally ask, curious as to what he had been up to all night and why he has a new accessory. 

Matt gives a quiet groan, then begins to explain as he sits himself in front of you. “I found an abandoned…lab is the only way I can put it, in one of the utility tunnels. I guess it got flooded out with all the rain and whoever was running it was clearing it out. When I got there, there was only one guy.” As he talks, you begin to clean his wounds, and you are not surprised at how stoic he remains despite the stinging of antiseptics. “I think he was just grabbing files, and that is what is in the bag. Paper files and what I think are thumb drives. I’m not too sure.”

You look up in time to see him turn his lips down into a hard scowl. “The whole place reeked of human blood, though. Not fresh - stale. And there were cages. It was just a few rooms, but someone was definitely up to no good down there.” He flexes his fingers, then says your name softly. “I think it was some sort of government agency. The gun the guy had was standard issue for the FBI and the way he moved was in line with their training, but it didn’t feel like the FBI. It felt more advanced and after everything with Fisk I don’t think they’d try something twice here so close together. But in my gut, it’s telling me this isn’t something like the Hand or something underground.”

You turn to look at the simple bag laying on the floor, your heart sinking as you take it in. You trust Matt’s gut with this - this is not his first rodeo, and he has so much more information about all of this than you ever will. 

“Do you want me to read them for you?”

He shakes his head, “No. Well.. yes, but no. I think this is something I need to take to everyone - Foggy, Karen, Frank, Jessica. Another piece of the puzzle of what has been going on lately. I think we all have different parts, and we need to start looking at what fits together.” He pauses, rolls his lip between his teeth. “I’d like for you to be there, too..if you’d like. I don’t want to keep you in the dark. You aren’t out there, like we are but..I’m dragging you into this just by being with you. I…” 

He stops, and turns to fully face you, pulling his bicep from your grasp so he can cup your jaw with his other hand. He runs his thumb over your lips. 

“I can’t risk losing you. If you being in the know and understanding everything that is going on is what is going to keep you safe - keep Minnie safe - then I can’t lie to you and I can’t hide anything. But I need you to understand that there is a risk of knowing what lurks in the shadows. It is your choice; I want it to be your choice. I need you to be okay, too.” 

You don't need to let the words turn over in your mind - you know your answer. “I want to be there. I want to help, even if it is just helping you talk through things. You don’t need to hide things from me. I…I understand what you are doing.”  You mimic him and reach to cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb so lightly over his lower lip. “I just want you to be safe, Matt. I want you to come home at night.” 

You purposefully use the word, knowing it triggered a reaction before. 

It does again.  

His eyes flutter close, and he kisses your finger gently. 

“I’ll always come back to you,” he breathes out before swallowing thickly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, and you wonder if he wants to say more.

Do you want him to say more?

You don’t know.

You don’t know and you don’t want to think about it. 

You just want Matt to be safe and right now that means finishing wrapping his bicep. You let your thumb linger on his lip for a moment before pulling away, “I’m almost done with your arm. I..I think it doesn’t need stitches. Everything here should be plenty.” 

“Okay,” he whispers as you hand drops, and he turns so you can apply butterfly strips to the holes in his bicep. 

You let your mind fall back to your guides as you wrap the gauze, mentally picturing exactly what you need to do while also making mental notes about directions you need to change and products you need to buy to fill out Matt’s first aid kit. While he has apparently been so much better at taking care of himself, his supplies are a bit lacking. 

As you finish, you hesitate before leaning in and placing a small kiss over the entrance wound, mumbling as you do, “Minnie would admonish me if I didn’t add a kissie for extra healing.” 

“She is the Doctor,” Matt replies gently, and you can’t help but smile.

You start to repack the first aid kit as Matt pushes up into standing to gather his own gear. You both clean in a comfortable silence and only once everything is put away, does Matt come back to you. 

“Shower with me?” He asks, his voice soft and low and your whole body quivers for him.

You don’t reply with words. You take his offered hand, and he leads you to the small room. 

The two of you can barely fit in the shower together, but it doesn’t matter. As soon as you are under the water, you are one.

Matt cups your jaw with both hands as he kisses you like he is savoring every microsecond. It is slow and languid, and you melt together so easily. Your hands are in his hair, pulling his closer, like you want to absorb him because maybe you do. Maybe you want him to absorb you, because you are safe in his arms, and nothing will ever hurt you or make you cry if he is there. 

You have Matt Murdock, and you have the Devil and he has you.

You don’t know if it's hours or minutes or days that pass before one callused hand drops to your thigh and with the lightest of touches, urges it up. Once it is around his waist, Matt rocks forward and slides into you with no resistance.

His pumps are as slow as his kisses and you lose yourself in him. If you could think, you would imagine he is lost in you as well, but the only thing on your mind is the pleasure he is bringing you and how perfectly full you feel.

His name is falling from your lips over and over, breathless and needy, but not for a release - just for him and it is like he knows that. His head drops to your shoulder, and he buries his nose into your throat, his lips moving in words barely heard above the spray of the shower.

Your name.

Mine.

Yours.

Perfect. 

Please.

God.

Love. 

((“I love you.”))

((“I love you, too.”))

---

:) <3

---

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[darksturnioloqueen]

Sadistic!Matt x Belt

**This Fic Series will NOT be for people with triggers. This Fic Series will have very descriptive moments of Sadism.**

Sadistic (Sadism - The Act Of Being Sadistic)

Deriving (getting) pleasure from inflicting (causing) pain, suffering, or humiliation on others.

Please Read At Your Own Risk.

⚠︎Trigger Warning: dark web, girl getting cut, blood, getting edged, buying a submissive, getting hit with a belt (obvi), some rough fuckery, lastly being choked unconscious with (you guessed it) a belt⚠︎

Matt was restless. He couldn't take it anymore. He needed to find something to help with the constant images flashing through his mind. He had been watching basic porn for the past hour. He slowly became erect, and then he fell flaccid again. After repeating this process enough times, he knew that the fake moans were not going to suffice. He opened his laptop and sat down bare-ass on the seat. He turned on his VPN blocker and connected his headphones. With his headphones on, he opened up his special browser. He typed in the one-time use code to allow access for thirty minutes. He was in. The dark web. He was no stranger on here. He went to his favorite porn site. It wasn't basic. He clicked on what was happening live right now. A girl tied to the bed. She was terrified. He felt himself twitch. He sat back and got more comfortable. A man in all black appeared, and the girl started screaming. Matt grew harder. He had a knife and lightly touched her thigh. Matt could feel flutters rush to his tip, swelling his penis. He wrapped his hand around it and started stroking it.

"Please, no. Stop!" She begged and cried. Matt pumped harder. The man with the knife used the pointed tip to cut a small seam into her breast. The blood ran down her chest. She screamed in excruciating pain and fear.

"Fuck." Matt's head flung back as he listened to her terrified cries. He could feel his orgasm reaching its peak. He needed more, though. "Fucking cut her." He yelled at the screen. His headphones amplified her pain in his ears. "Yes." He pumped himself hard. He was almost there. He looked at the screen, and just as the man raised the knife to cut her again, it timed out. "Are you fucking kidding me!?" He slammed his fist down on the desk. It was his own setting he coded into the program to make him more challenging to detect. But here it was, ruining his perfect orgasm. He sighed and felt himself start to go limp. "Edged. How wonderful." He muttered. He clicked back on and scrolled, trying to find the live stream he just had, but it was already gone. He received a message. It was from the creator of the livestream. It was a link to a dark web forum. He knew he didn't have to hesitate because his computer was completely safe from any potential hacking or tracking. Besides, if someone hunted him down, he'd be excited about it. Finally, getting to hurt someone would probably relieve the build-up he just made inside his balls.

He clicked the link, repositioned his headphones, and watched the page load. It contained several profiles, but there wasn't much context as to what the profiles were for. He clicked a random girl with long, sleek black hair. Her stats made it seem as if she was a model. He clicked another one, a different girl with the same layout. He scrolled all the way down to the bottom of the page.

"In submission, there is power."

His eyes widened, and he realized what he had just been sent. This was a page for paid submissives. He started looking at the profiles harder. None of them really appealed to him. Of course, he liked his girls petite and easy to dominate. He kept clicking profile after profile. Some of them were really expensive, and others were so cheap that he wondered how clean they would even be. He grew tired of trying to find his perfect girl and decided to pick one he didn't care about. After all, wasn't he just going to torture her anyway? He then changed his thinking and looked for the opposite girl to his taste. There you were, all pink and lacey. He hated it. He clicked your profile and smirked. "Stupid bows." His judgment was based on the fact he felt like it was all just for show. No one dressed or looked like this in their daily life on purpose. He clicked the purchase button. There were several ways to purchase you. He clicked on the credit card option and prepaid. He felt himself twitch. He was excited to be the guy with the knife from the livestream. His message bar pinged.

When do you want to meet up?

He was surprised that your response was almost immediate. His fingers tapped his keys without typing. He wasn't really sure how to answer.

Now?

He waited for your response, hoping it was what he wanted to hear.

Brixton Hotel Room 238

Matt jumped up and grabbed his jeans, which still had the belt looped through them. He didn't care that they had already been worn for the day. He was going to need them off when he was with you anyway. He drove to the hotel with his anticipation growing along with his nerves. He knew the dynamic a dominate and a submissive had, but that wasn't him. That wasn't what he wanted, what he needed. As he neared the hotel door, he tried to figure out how to explain his intentions. He knocked on the door. Once you opened the door and he looked at you, his apprehension disappeared. Your hair was down and wavy. You had taken them out after the last guy tugged on them and ruined their sleekness. Matt stepped in and closed the door. He turned to see you sitting on the bed, waiting for his direction.

"So you just do anything I want?" he asked, wanting to make sure this wasn't some sick prank or, worse, a setup.

"Yes." You nodded slightly. He walked over and stood before you, taking your stature in. You were the perfect size for him to dominate.

"Take it all off." You stood up and were inches in front of him. You stripped everything off. You looked up at him. This guy was different, as you could see. He was younger than most, possibly your age. He didn't look like he knew what he was doing, but looked like he knew what he wanted. It was attractive. "Bend over the bed." His voice was cold. Something was flipping in him. The control was starting to taste good. You bent over the bed, bracing yourself for his penetration.

Thwack.

Your toes curled, and you arched your back.

"Oh my god." You yelled out. You looked back to see him with his dick in his hand. In his other hand, he held the leather belt once looped in his now discarded jeans. He flicked his hair to the side and smirked.

"Back down." You were wet. The sting from the belt slapping your bare skin was tingling your clit. You happily laid back on the bed. Now, knowing what to expect, you bit your lip, already wanting to moan.

Thwack. Thumbp.

He smacked you twice this time.

"Agh fuck." You heard him moaning. You were starting to understand he liked it rough. You were excited about this time—finally, someone to understand what you wanted.

"Are you just going to hit me?" You asked. It wasn't very submissive of you, but you could tell he wasn't following basic rules either. He was different.

"No." He pressed up against you on the bed's edge and slipped into you with ease. He was taken aback by how wet you were. Instead of being distracted, he grabbed your hair and shoved your face down into the mattress. It was hard to breathe. You moaned, muffled by the fabric being sucked into your mouth. He started thrusting into you. He felt different. He felt better than the others. Maybe it was because you were wet this time, but either way, he felt good.

"Oh god." You immediately felt terrible for being loud. You aren't supposed to be loud.

"Louder," he demanded. You gave him what he wanted. He groaned and pulled your head up. "On the bed." You crawled on the bed, and he rested his knees on the mattress to align in the perfect doggy-style position. He let go of your hair, and you let your head fall.

"Harder." You begged. You wanted him to hurt you. He rammed his hips into yours and gripped your sides, pushing and pulling your body opposite of his to make the collision hurt more.

"Fuck!" He yelled out. This was better than any porn he could have watched tonight. There was only one thing missing: more pain. He needed to hurt you. He didn't have a knife, but he had his belt. There was no way he could smack you with it in this close proximity. He grabbed the belt in his hand and slowed his thrusting to focus on the metal clasp.

"Wha -" You barely turned around to see what he was doing before you felt something choke the words before they could form. It tightened and constricted your air. Your neck was tugged backward to force you to look at the same ceiling you looked at earlier.

"Fucking choke." He demanded. You made involuntary gurgle noises as the last little breath came squeezing out. He continued to pound into you while your body started going limp; the only thing holding you up was the leather necklace he made for you. You felt it. Your body shivered, and your walls released all the cum building up. Matt felt your body's pulse and followed. As soon as he was done filling you up with his enormous load, he let go of the belt, but it was too late. Your head was fuzzy, and you fell onto the mattress, deprived of oxygen. Matt, unsure of what he had just done, put his clothes on and left you lying there.

[keisgirl]

hii! its my birthday today so i was wondering if you could whip up a oneshot story of a f!reader x kenma, ill leave the plot to youuu, but i love physical affection and words of affirmation, aaand i LOVE cats,, again ill leave everything to ya, thank you!!♡

HI UM HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY IM SOSOSOSOSOOSSO SORRY CAUSE I WAS ON VACA AND MY VPN STOPPED WORKING 😭😭😭

hope you had an amazing day and kenma loves you smsmsm ❤️‍🩹😝

it was your birthday, but honestly, you felt like you were celebrating kenma more than yourself. he was curled up on the couch, looking like a lazy cat, his phone in hand as his gaze lazily flickered over the screen. you sat nearby, surrounded by birthday cards and gifts, but your attention was entirely on him.

“what’s wrong?” kenma’s voice was quiet, barely more than a murmur, but he wasn’t even looking at you, already sensing the shift in the air.

“nothing,” you said, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “just... thinking about how much i love you.”

he didn’t even lift his head, but his lips quirked up slightly. “i know.” his voice was flat, but there was warmth there, too. “you’re annoying, but i love you too.”

you laughed, reaching out to mess with his hair. “so affectionate,” you teased.

kenma’s eyes flicked over to you for a split second, and for the briefest moment, you caught a soft look in his gaze. “i’m here because i want to be. it’s your birthday, but... i’d be here anyway,” he said, almost like it was a secret.

your heart did that fluttering thing again. “you’re really here with me on my birthday?” you asked, leaning in a little closer to him, feeling all the warmth he gave off.

he shifted, sitting up and moving his phone out of the way. “yeah, of course.” his voice was low, but sincere. “i’m not going anywhere.”

he reached out then, his hand finding your cheek, his thumb brushing over it like he was memorizing the way you felt. “happy birthday,” he said, almost shyly, his words like a soft purr.

you smiled, a little breathless from the tenderness of his touch. “kenma...” you whispered, your heart pounding.

“stop looking at me like that,” he mumbled, his cheeks turning a light pink, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours.

you felt the steady beat of his heart, and everything around you seemed to fade. it was just the two of you, close and quiet. you leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was slow, like he was savoring it. when you pulled away, you couldn’t help but smile. “you’re like a cat, kenma,” you said, teasing a little. “always quiet, always close when it matters.”

he rolled his eyes, but there was a soft, affectionate smile on his lips. “i’m not a cat.”

“you totally are,” you giggled, your fingers tracing his jaw gently. “always curling up, always purring when you’re happy.”

kenma’s eyes softened, and for once, he didn’t deny it. “guess i can’t argue with that,” he mumbled, and you both just sat there for a while, enjoying the quiet.

eventually, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to his side. you snuggled in, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. you could hear his breathing, slow and even, as he held you, content and close.

“happy birthday,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper, his cheek resting on your head.

you smiled, completely at peace in his arms. “thanks, kenma. i’m glad you’re here.”

“me too,” he said quietly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “me too.”

[sgiandubh]

The Couple Next Door - a very, very short overview and my 50 cents, in the process

With as little spoilers as possible. My first plan was to make a post per episode, but I quickly realized that would be useless (so much talking, already, plus a very plethoric press ) and risky (the more you write about it, the less able you are to avoid spoiling it and no, that is not this page's editorial line). You will have to do with this short review, instead.

This is the story of a botched swinger coupling experiment, somewhere in the middle of a non-descript, Truman Show-esque Midlands suburbia. Where nothing is what it seems to be and curtains always flutter for a reason. Adjacent storylines complement this sexy & risqué core, which I personally found more interesting than S puffing and panting on top of Tomlinson. Corruption, life crisis situations, lost late pregnancies, a hidden child, bigot parents looking not unlike Grant Wood's American Gothic odd couple (especially the mother, enough spoiling it), voyeurism and privacy violations - this is a LOT to take in. With a bit more tact when it comes to script writing (sometimes things are really in your face and almost didactic: never a good thing), it could have been BAFTA material. It is not, and no, Disgruntled Tumblrettes - not because of S, but because of numerous plot holes, useless plot devices that could have been gags but totally miss the mark (walking little old lady, anyone?) and an overall superficial approach. It's like trying to cram half a dressing into a carry on: burst at the seams it will or you will end up with odd bits and pieces that do not necessarily make sense.

So if you set your bar very high or are poised to watch it in contempt, this is not going to be fun at all. If you have no expectations and also no idea about the rest of the cast, you will find it interesting and enjoyable. I personally think Enoch is a perfect cast, as is the very intelligent Jessica de Gouw: she knows how it's done and she knows where and especially when to stop. Tomlinson, eh - not so much. I have zero idea about how she fared in Poldark, but here I found her inattentive, formulaic and totally cliché. She has some good intuitions, but she fails to deliver, especially at the end. So, that's a 4/10 for me.

Now for S, as I am sure you are all interested to know. After all, this is why I even bothered watching and getting a paid VPN for it. I will say only this: there is a before Episode 3 and an after Episode 3, by far superior. You'll get my point when you watch it. It's not OL, but thank Heavens, it's not Where the Starlight Ends, either. With all the indulgence in the world, I'd say 8,5/10 - not his fault, the script was brutal to Danny ('Take a good look' is a major, MAJOR eyeroll and it did make me spit my Coke). Also, that intergalactic arse makes it on screen for about 5 minutes, which is nothing- so long for Mordor's honest reviews. Last but not least: he tried, bless his heart, to help Eleanor, but to no avail. Sorry.

The most interesting secondary storyline is Alan's, by far. The press shite - meh, that was there just to give Enoch's character a job, I suppose. And the child - it left me completely hungry and there was definitely room for more.

Rewatch? Christ, no.

Overall? a solid 7/10.

Recommend? not to my mum, but to my best -offline shipper- friend, for sure. She'll watch for S and we'll cackle over the phone.

Potential springboard? I hope so, but he still needs a real, well written role. This is decently good, but still not good enough to showcase what I know he is perfectly able to deliver.

Home eye candy takeaway? Oh, come on, the one involving this item:

I mean, what is more sexy than a bear of a man carrying a washing machine like I would carry my purse?

[maroon-book-dragon]

I'm often skeptical of these kinds of things that flutter around on social media, because of how outrageous they seem. I don't want to contribute to the echo chamber by reblogging false information. That doesn't help the causes I stand for.

However, this time it's real. The censorship, at least from the US end, is legitimate. I don't have a VPN to test the claim that it is available in Australia but the most important part, that users cannot search for "donald trump rigged election" on TikTok, is correct.

I don't have the mental energy right now to delve into what this means for our country. All I know is that this is a very ominous beginning to a presidency that already strikes fear into many people in the country that it is supposed to serve.

oh my god...

so the first screenshot is trying to look this up on tiktok normally, "donald trump rigged election" and it says that search violates community guidelines.

the second screenshot is looking up the same exact thing, but with a (australian) vpn on. canadian vpn didn't fix it fyi.

THIS is exactly the type of censorship to be looking out for on tiktok. this actually is crazy.

[krunal-vyas]

Hire Dedicated Developers in India: A 2025 Guide

The shift to remote work has transformed how businesses build and scale their software development teams. If you’re looking to hire dedicated developers in India, you’re tapping into one of the world’s largest and most skilled IT talent pools. Indian software engineers offer expertise in cutting-edge technologies at highly competitive costs, making offshore development teams a strategic choice for businesses worldwide.

This guide explores remote work trends in 2025, why companies prefer outsourcing software development to India, the benefits and challenges of remote hiring, and how to build a successful offshore team.

By the end, you’ll understand how IT outsourcing in India can drive innovation and efficiency for your business.

The Evolution of Remote Work

1. How Technology Has Enabled Remote Work:

Remote software development has flourished due to advancements in:

Cloud Computing: Platforms like AWS, Google Cloud, and Microsoft Azure enable secure and scalable remote operations.

Virtual Collaboration Tools: Slack, Zoom, Microsoft Teams, and Asana enhance seamless team communication.

Enhanced Cybersecurity: VPNs, multi-factor authentication (MFA), and encrypted data storage protect sensitive information across distributed teams.

2. The Impact of COVID-19 on Remote Hiring:

The pandemic accelerated global adoption of remote work, forcing businesses to rethink traditional hiring practices. Key takeaways:

Companies realized the benefits of hiring globally without geographical constraints.

Remote and hybrid work models became the new norm.

The demand for remote developers for hire, especially in tech hubs like India, increased significantly.

3. The Shift to Distributed Teams:

The rise of offshore development teams has led to:

Cost savings on office infrastructure and operational expenses.

A broader talent pool with access to niche skill sets.

Continuous development cycles across different time zones.

Why Hire Dedicated Developers from India?

1. A Vast and Skilled IT Talent Pool:

India produces over 1.5 million engineering graduates annually, with top-tier talent emerging from institutions like IITs, NITs, and IIITs. Indian developers specialize in:

AI, blockchain, cloud computing, cybersecurity

Full-stack development and DevOps

Mobile and web application development

2. Cost-Effectiveness:

Cost of hiring developers in India is significantly lower than in the US or Europe, often 50–70% cheaper, without compromising on quality. Companies also save on office space, benefits, and infrastructure.

3. Time Zone Advantage in Outsourcing:

With India operating in GMT+5:30, businesses benefit from round-the-clock development cycles and real-time collaboration with teams in North America, Europe, and APAC.

4. Strong English Proficiency:

Indian software engineers rank high in global English proficiency, ensuring smooth communication with international clients.

5. Thriving IT Ecosystem:

India is home to global IT giants like TCS, Infosys, Wipro, and HCL, as well as a flourishing startup ecosystem, making it a preferred destination for IT staffing solutions.

Key Benefits of Hiring Dedicated Developers from India

1. Scalability & Flexibility:

Scale teams up or down based on project needs.

No long-term hiring commitments, reducing risks.

2. Access to a Diverse Tech Stack:

Indian developers excel in multiple technologies, including:

Front-end: React, Angular, Vue.js

Back-end: Node.js, Python, Java, C++

Mobile: Swift, Kotlin, Flutter

Cloud & DevOps: AWS, Kubernetes, Docker

3. Reduced Overhead Costs:

No office rent, equipment costs, or employee benefits.

Competitive rates while maintaining top-tier quality.

4. Increased Productivity:

Dedicated development team benefits include focused, agile-driven work.

Faster time-to-market with optimized workflows.

Challenges & Solutions in Remote Hiring

1. Time Zone Differences:

Solution: Establish overlapping work hours and use tools like Jira and Trello for real-time collaboration.

2. Communication Barriers:

Solution: Implement structured stand-ups, weekly check-ins, and comprehensive documentation.

3. Finding the Right Talent:

Solution: Use trusted hiring platforms like Upwork, Toptal, and Clutch, or collaborate with leading Indian IT outsourcing firms.

4. Security & IP Protection:

Solution: Sign NDAs, use encrypted cloud storage, and enforce strict access control measures.

How to Hire Dedicated Developers in India

1. Define Your Project Requirements:

Outline the tech stack and experience level required.

Decide between full-time, part-time, or contract-based developers.

2. Choose the Right Hiring Model:

Direct Hiring: Best for long-term projects.

Outsourcing Companies: Ideal for managed services.

Staff Augmentation: Great for short-term or specialized projects.

3. Best Platforms to Find Remote Software Developers in India:

Freelance Portals: Upwork, Freelancer, Toptal.

IT Outsourcing Firms: Infosys, TCS, Accenture India.

Job Portals: LinkedIn, Naukri, Glassdoor.

4. Interview & Vet Candidates:

Conduct coding tests and behavioral interviews.

Evaluate problem-solving skills and communication abilities.

5. Set Up Communication & Collaboration Tools:

Use Slack, Zoom, Microsoft Teams for seamless communication.

Manage code repositories with GitHub, Bitbucket.

The Future of Remote Work & Offshore Development

1. Trends Shaping the Future:

Remote work trends in 2025 indicate global hiring will continue to rise.

AI and automation will further streamline remote workforce management.

2. AI & Automation in Remote Work:

AI-driven tools will enhance project tracking and performance monitoring.

Smart hiring platforms will optimize talent matching.

3. Predictions for the Next Decade:

More businesses will integrate remote developers for hire into their core operations.

Offshore hiring will become a mainstream strategy for global tech companies.

Conclusion:

Hiring dedicated developers in India provides businesses with a skilled, cost-effective, and scalable workforce for software development. With expertise in AI, cloud computing, full-stack development, and cybersecurity, Indian developers offer world-class solutions while significantly reducing operational costs, making offshore hiring a strategic advantage.

Looking to build a high-performing remote software development team? iQlance connects businesses with top-tier Indian software engineers for seamless offshore collaboration. Contact us today to start hiring your dedicated team!

[williamsmith12]

How to Hire and Manage Remote Mobile App Development Teams: A Strategic Guide

In today's digital landscape, remote work has revolutionized mobile app development, offering access to a global talent pool and enhanced flexibility. This blog provides actionable insights on hiring and managing remote teams effectively, leveraging custom mobile app development services, and selecting the right custom mobile app development company.

1. Define Your Project Needs: Start by outlining your project requirements, including objectives, timeline, budget, and technology stack preferences. Determine if you need specialized custom mobile app development services tailored to your app's unique features and functionalities.

2. Choose the Right Hiring Platform: Utilize reputable platforms like LinkedIn, Upwork, or industry-specific job boards to find and hire mobile app developers with the required skills and experience. Look for candidates who have expertise in technologies such as Swift, Kotlin, React Native, or Flutter.

3. Screen Candidates Thoroughly: During the hiring process, evaluate candidates based on technical proficiency, previous projects, and remote work experience. Conduct virtual interviews to assess communication skills and cultural fit with your team and custom mobile app development company.

4. Establish Clear Communication Channels: Effective communication is crucial for remote teams. Set up regular video conferences, use collaboration tools like Slack or Microsoft Teams for daily updates, and ensure transparency in project management and progress tracking.

5. Define Roles and Responsibilities Clearly: Clarify roles, responsibilities, and expectations from the outset. Document workflows, project milestones, and deadlines to ensure alignment among team members and with custom mobile app development services.

6. Foster Collaboration and Team Building: Promote a sense of camaraderie and teamwork among remote developers through virtual team-building activities, knowledge sharing sessions, and collaborative problem-solving. Encourage regular feedback and open communication channels.

7. Monitor Performance and Provide Feedback: Establish key performance indicators (KPIs) to track individual and team performance. Provide constructive feedback regularly to improve productivity and ensure quality deliverables from your custom mobile app development company.

8. Ensure Security and Data Privacy: Implement robust security measures to protect sensitive data and intellectual property. Use secure communication channels, VPNs for remote access, and adhere to industry standards to maintain confidentiality with hire mobile app developers.

Conclusion: By following these strategies and leveraging custom mobile app development services and hire mobile app developers, businesses can effectively manage remote mobile app development teams. Embrace the benefits of remote work while fostering a collaborative and productive environment that drives success in mobile app projects.

[iqos-heets]

Nerd VPN Nulled 4.1 Flutter VPN App for Android with IAP Sick of dealing with complicated VPNs? ...

[filetheme]

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Nerd VPN : Flutter VPN Android Full Application with IAP, Integrated with Backend and Admin Panel v4.0

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[imomomi]

  A Long Time Coming  

Summary: Miya Atsumu was a missed chance. But, it doesn’t have to be that way...

Word Count: 1762

Warnings: Slight Language

         “Get your feet off the desk,” you say, kicking the back Miya Atsumu’s chair. His brother—the twin that everyone says is the better of the two, but curses and fights just as much—snorts with laughter.

           “Oy, don’t touch me, ya scrub.”

           “Sit properly then. You might be okay with eating dirt, but I ain’t.”

           “Miss Goody-two-shoes,” he mocks. Heat rises to your neck, but you don’t bother responding. For as long as you’ve known the twins, any chance to disrupt class is readily taken. You’re already tired, having stayed up late studying for an exam later on in the day and the idea of fighting with Atsumu is exhausting. He glances over his shoulder, eyes hot on your face before he turns with a sigh.

           “You know,” he mutters, head falling into the palm of his hand. His gaze is heavy, lids blinking with a deliberate slowness that has you holding back a shudder, “You’d be a lot more interesting if you actually put up a fight, Y/N-chan.”

           “I don’t care about your opinion, Miya-san.”

           He grins, leaning close enough that you can smell the mix of laundry detergent and crisp, cologne coming from him. Osamu scoffs quietly, but doesn’t look away from his bento.

           “That’s why I like ya,” he says. You don’t like how he says it. It’s too sincere and earnest for a boy who frequently lies to you. Frustrated you roll up your notes and smack him on the head with it. Eager to escape the too-small classroom, you stand up, digging for some coins. He shouts the name of his favorite tea brand as you leave, but you pretend not to hear it.

           You don’t want to be pulled in the Miya’s circle—Atsumu’s circle because you know that years in the future, it’s him who’s going to be on T.V. doing that ridiculous pre-serve ritual. It’s better to avoid him now, than to have to forget him then.

           Crying is the last thing you expect to do on graduation day, but the tears are heavy and keep flowing despite you’re attempts at quelling them. Mitsu and Hana are lost in the crowd, calming down their nervous juniors who declare that they’ll keep the cheer team running seamlessly in honor of them.

           “Why the hell are you crying?” Atsumu asks. He leans back, looking at you with a mixture of confusion and disgust. A watery laugh leaves your mouth and for once, you can admit to being glad to see him.

           “I’m going abroad,” you explain, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. A streak of black follows that has you snorting at the idea of waterproof mascara.

           “Shit, really?”  

           “Yeah. Got into university in the US. You’ll have to find someone else to bother while I’m gone,” you say with a smile that falls flat in an instant.

           Atsumu rubs the back of his head, eyes boring into your face. You don’t have the courage to meet his gaze head on.

           He pulls you close and traps you between his arms. You stand shell-shocked, arms hanging awkwardly by your side at the hug. Atsumu’s chin falls onto of your head. Skin itchy, tears pricking behind your eyelids, you swallow hard. You don’t have a name to this feeling that you’ve spent the past two years denying, but you know what it is. The warmth crawling through your chest blossoms. You want to be brave and rash like he is, but Atsumu is chasing his dreams without a care of the people he leaves behind. He makes you feel small for wanting to latch on and never let go.

           “Don’t complain. I’m just gonna miss you, you stupid idiot,” he says, pulling away. He rests his hands on your shoulder and for a moment you’re worried he’s going to try and kiss you. His eyes rack your face, committing it to memory. If it’s the last time he sees you, he wants to remember how ugly you look with mascara streaming down your face and cheeks blotchy from crying.

           “You really need to work on your vocabulary, that’s redundant.” You pull his hands from your shoulders and walk away. He watches you go, wondering for the first time exactly what it was that you wanted to do. He’d never asked before. Volleyball was as much a passion as it was an obsession. He knew he was an asshole and selfish to the bone. It’d always been a far-fetched hope that you’d look his way.

           Osamu finds him a while later lingering by the school entrance, quieter than he’d ever been.

           “What’s wrong with you?”

           “Samu, I think I got rejected.”

           “Y/N? She’s too smart for you anyway.”

           “Shut up, you lazy scrub.”

           “Don’t yell at me for telling you the truth, jerk,” Osamu shouts. The back of his hand connects with Atsumu’s head, the familiar sting is a welcome relief from the odd tightening in his chest.

           The court is already packed by the time you make it in. Ticket held tightly in your hand; you wonder if you have enough time to grab some food before the game starts. It’s been years since you’d watch a volleyball match live. The time difference often meant waking up at odd hours and using a VPN to get a stream straight from Japan. Nerves flutter in your stomach, but you know the chance of actually seeing Atsumu is low. Even if you did, your lives have been diverging for so long, there wouldn’t be anything to say.

           Deciding to take a chance at getting food---you haven’t had proper onigiri in so long that even half-assed attempts make your mouth water—you wait in line. Brows furrowing, you tilt your head at the sign in front of the stand. Miya Onigiri? Surely, Atsumu wasn’t bullish enough to go plastering his name on everything?

           “Y/N?” a voice greets as you near the front of the line. You can’t help but stare at Atsumu’s face—but it’s not him, too soft, too polite to be him.

           “Osamu?” you ask hesitantly.

           “What the hell? I have seen you in forever.” He jerks forward, almost as if he was going to hug you but the counter stops him from getting to far.

           “I just got back to Japan. I…This isn’t actually that surprising. You always did have the best bentos in class,” you say, smiling warmly. Osamu matches it. He looks down the line, eyes tightening in frustration at the number of people. He wants to catch up, wants to take a picture and send it Atsumu just to screw with him, but he has work to do.

           “What do you want? It’s on the house,” he asks.

           “That’s a bad way to run a business,” you scold, lightly.

           “If it was going to fail, it would have by now,” he counters, shoving a box of onigiri into your hand. You walk away, slightly stunned as his voice chases you demanding that you meet up after the match.

           If he was a goddamn scrub like Osamu or that loser Kageyama, he’d admit that the sight of you left him breathless. But, he’s not so what comes out of his mouth instead is:

           “Couldn’t stay away?”

           You nose crinkles and the sight sends a jolt through him. He feels like he’s back in high school, doing stupid shit just to grab your attention. He’s not lucky enough to know what you’ve done the past seven years, but you’ve probably seen all the dumb articles about him.

           “To be honest, I wanted to how an Olympic setter played in person,” you say, nodding towards Kageyama. Both of you know the words aren’t true, but he scowls anyway.

           “Stick around for a bit and I’ll show ya, sweetheart.”

           “Ugh, you haven’t changed a bit.”

           “I’d say the same, but you look like you’re at least a c-cup now.”

           He expects you to yell or pull your sweater tighter, but you throw your head back and laugh. The sound warms his blood, burrows into his hollow chest, and lingers there. It hadn’t been love, not even close to the thing, back in high school. There was always that slight chance, the idea that maybe he could love you that fascinated him.

           But now, he can’t look away, can’t shake the hope that tightens its grip on his heart. It’s worth all the waiting, all the frustrating time spent pretending that he didn’t care that he was alone just to have this chance. Before where there’d been a cold, unmovable wall, there’s a slight crack just wide enough for him to squeeze through. Maybe you didn’t even realize it, maybe it wouldn’t work but, you’d come here for a reason.

           “Are you staying?”

           “The game is over.”

           “In Japan, you idiot. I know the game’s over, I played in it.”

           “I know that,” you scowl, flushing fiercely, “and yes. I…I’m living in Tokyo.”

           “Good. Come out with me on Saturday,” he stops, looking you over once more and adds, “On a date.”

           “We haven’t seen each other in years,” you protest.

           “Come on, Y/N,” he whines, hands swinging in the air, “Can’t we just skip the whole friend’s part and get to the good stuff?”

           “I could have a boyfriend. You shouldn’t just assume, I’m available for you.”

           “Well, dump him.”

           “You’re insane. Honestly, get help. And don’t beg, it makes you look like more of a loser than usual.”

           “So yes? Or yes?”

           “I’ll think about it,” you tease. Atsumu’s done playing though and before you realize what’s happening, he’s pulled you close to him. Rough hands cup your cheeks, tilting your head up as he presses his lips against yours. It’s rough and too long to for a first kiss, but Atsumu’s reason flew out of his mind the moment he saw you. He’s drinking all of your movements, the small hand burrowing in his hair, the flingers clutching at this shirt, the way you tongue slips between his lips eager and all too fleeting as you pull away.

           “What?” asks Atsumu, wide-eyed. You point at Osamu behind him, whose busy wheezing with laughter as a child stood watching the two of you in disgust.

           “Awww man, why’d you have to go and ruin the moment?”

           “Pay attention to your fans, you disgusting pig.” Osamu says. The little boy is still there, pen hanging in his hands as he shyly offers the jersey.

[unholyhelbig]

Workplace au: Beca is a new software engineer at the office and is extremely quiet. She doesn’t participate in any office activities, happy hours, or parties. When she doesn’t go to a mandatory meeting management pulls in Chloe from HR (whose already noticed the pattern and is worried) to speak with her

A/N: It’s been a while! I’ve been working a lot, but I’m going to get back to writing. This is literally the 60th time I’ve written Bechloe! 

Read on Ao3 | Request prompts here 

Beca looked around the office through the thick lenses on her glasses. Whoever had summoned her here had a flare for comfort; there was a leather office chair with a fuzzy turquoise pillow. A vase of lilies sat at the edge of the wood next to photos that Beca couldn’t decide were family or friends. She scrutinized the smiling faces and tried haplessly to guess which one was running late to their own meeting.

Beca picked up one of the stress balls that were on the edge of the desk and gave it a squeeze. It was well worn, and practically putty in her hands. She flipped it over and read the advertisement for some dentist downtown before she set it down and lowered herself in the seat even further. Her stare found a gold plated name: CHLOE BEALE

It was embarrassing, being called to the marketing floor, like this. She cared about the interworking’s of their projects, not the shiny ads that they printed on the sides of buses, or the giant PR parties that quickly followed a new release. No one else in her department had been phoned, but they all watched as she walked, red-faced, to the elevator.

The door creaked open and she found herself straightening her posture with a heavy breath. She had no one to impress here, not a single person, but still- she wanted to make a solid impression. Maybe one with a firm handshake and a questioning stare.

“I am so sorry I’m late.” The woman spoke before showing her face. She set down a big mug of what looked like chocolate, or maybe Coffee that wasn’t actually coffee. Her features were shrouded with copper locks, barely tamed. She let a large stack of flyers hit the desk with a muted thump. “You’re probably confused. I would be too.”

The woman sat down in the chair and smiled brightly. She had soft features cut with startling blue eyes. It was a nice smile, Beca decided. She was confused, however, but mostly intrigued. “That’s okay,”

“I’m not very punctual. I put out the fires that are burning the fastest, you know?”

“Sure,” Beca shifted herself in the chair “Does that make me a fire?”

“Mmm, a sparkler, maybe. Controlled.”

A controlled fire, that was better than nothing. Beca hadn’t seen a title on this woman’s door. Maybe she was the supervisor for PR, or just in Human Resources. She was comfortable, taking a sip of her drink and then cringing away from the heat.

“That wasn’t the right way to start. You’re not a fire.” Chloe grimaced and pulled a file out of the bottom drawer of her desk “It looks like you’re the most talented coder on your floor. Graduated Yale with a 4.0, which is super impressive. You’re efficient, Beca.”

She lifted a brow at this. She knew all of this, she stayed late into the night to make sure that she had the best numbers in her quadrant, even if it did sacrifice most of her personal time. Even still, hearing her accomplishments come out of this woman’s mouth made her stomach flutter. She wished she hadn’t put the stress ball back.

“Thank you,” She said.

“On paper, you’re perfect.”

“And not on paper?”

She sighed and threw the file onto the desk without reading the rest. “Frankly, we’ve gotten a few complaints.”

What was that supposed to mean? Sure she kept to herself, often eating her lunch in the corner of the break room with her headphones in. Sometimes, if it was warm enough, she would sit in her car and flip through whatever book she had forgotten to haul back up to her apartment. But she never caused trouble.

“You missed the last meeting,” She tried gently “Which raised a couple of red flags.”

Beca scoffed and sat forward “It was about the Christmas party. It didn’t’ seem important. The app did.”

“The app could have waited.”

“Funny, considering the whole company depends on the newest technology possible. If you all would rather play pin the tail on the Hanukah Donkey, that’s fine.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and schooled her expression like she couldn’t feel her heart in her throat. The way Chloe stared at her could stop a train dead on its tracks. She still couldn’t’ read the expression, and maybe that was a little scarier than being able to.

“You’re determined, and I like you.”

“I’m sensing a but.”

“But this company is based on inclusion. We try to make sure that everyone feels welcome. From what I’ve heard, you’ve been invited to Happy Hour multiple times and you refuse every effort.”

“This is about my social life?”

“Lack thereof,”  

Beca leaned forward again, this time not hesitating to grab the neon yellow ball. She squeezed it twice without consequence. Chloe took three more gulps of her drink before pushing it to the side. She cupped her hands together as if to pray “people are concerned.”

“Well, they shouldn’t be. I like to keep to myself. It’s not a big deal.”

“You don’t even go to birthday parties!”

“I didn’t know there were any.” She shot back.

“You’ve worked here for three years, Beca. Do people just not age?”

She smiled at that, but then let the grin drop to a scowl. This was about principle. The company that she worked for shouldn’t have a say in what she did after hours, because they already controlled what she did from 9 to 5.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Beca sighed heavily “I’m listening.”

Chloe grasped one of the flyers on the desk and slid it towards Beca. It was glossy and overdone. The background was a dark red with sharp gold writing. A masquerade ball to advertise the new VPN that they had been developing for months now. It was a little too on the nose.

“You have to come with me to this ball.”

“Do I, now?” She glanced up from the paper, stare heavy “Look, Chloe, even if I was into social interaction, which I’m not”

“Cleary.”

“I wouldn’t start dipping my toes in with a classy masquerade ball where all of these big execs are going to mix drinks. I don’t even think programmers are invited to these things.”

“Which is why you’re my plus one. I planned the entire thing. The way I figure it, if you can fake your way through one night of glam and glitz, you can at least pretend to like sharing cake in the break room.”

She let out a long sigh and squeezed the stress ball a few more times. The woman across from her was staring expectantly. Maybe she had been a little standoffish since she started here. Right now, she cursed herself for not agreeing to one drink every once and awhile.

“One night?”

Chloe nodded with exaggeration “One night, and we’ll never bother you again.”

Beca narrowed her eyes “I don’t have a dress.”

“I do.”

[itstittycitybaby]

From the Ashes We are Born (Part 5)

a/n: take fucking two of posting this bc tumblr likes to fuck me over djdjjdjd. something that always bothered me with evey is the fact she left V?? I get not wanting to be stuck with a stranger for an entire year but you were the one who maced the cop. you decided to do it not v. he did not ask u to. now v torturing her there's not rlly a jusitifed excuse even though i can see why but it's still not justified either way. anyways as always enjoy.

Summary: V is away tending to his daily anarchist duties, which leaves you facing the wake of a treacherous thunder storm alone! Fluff ensues.

a/n 2: oh my god. i finally got the fucking gifs to work. had to navigate back and forth i stg I'm gonna dethrone the Tumblr god.

The music from your phone played throughout the deafening silence of the gallery. The infamously known masked criminal had left the gallery to commit his “righteous duties”. That’s how your friend, V, put it anyways. London was weeping over its people, at least, that’s what V had said once he heard the rain slapping the roof. Why can’t he just say it’s pouring, you thought to yourself as V fluttered about the house. “Dramatic as always V,” you snickered as you stood there watching him preparing to leave. You had been staying in the Shadow Gallery for a few months now. You weren’t very stoked to having to stay here for a year, but you had to. After all, you had sealed your fate after macing that cop. Even though you were upset about having to be stuck here away from your paints and gaming consoles, you understood. It was your decision to save him, he hadn’t asked you too.

  V’s underground home was deadly quiet as he got ready. The playful aura and laughter was now gone. It felt lonely and cold, something you guessed V had felt before you arrived. “Hey V,” you asked, fidgeting with the flowy skirt you wore. “Yes?” The man in question picked up his notorious black hat and put it on top of his head. He smoothed his hair and turned to you after looking in the mirror once more. “C-can I,” you started, cheeks flushing a bright pink, “Can I have a hug?” You felt awkward as you stood there playing with your skirt. V didn’t say anything as he stared at you. The smiling mask was unsettling to look at with the awkward air and embarrassment you felt. “Y-y'know what, forget I asked,” you stammered, starting to turn before throwing a “good luck and goodbye” kinda thing. You heard him sigh. V wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to his chest. The scent of lemon and the smell of pine made you hum. Your arms snaked around his middle as you stood there, together in front of the T.V. You were thankful V couldn’t see your beet red face. His mask rested atop your head and you shivered at the rumble of his chest as he spoke. “Forgive me, I was taken aback is all.” You pulled away a bit looking at the eyes of his mask. “It’s alright, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” “Nonsense my dear, you have yet to do so.” Oh we definitely have a crush. You pulled away giving him a smile. “Be safe okay V? I mean it. If you come home almost dead on the porch again, so help me, your bullet wounds won’t be the thing killing you.” V laughed, the sound of it making your heart giddy. “Of course, mademoiselle.” The tension between the two you was thick, neither of you breaking eye contact. Feeling bold, you grasped V’s shoulder with your hand and stood on your tippy toes. “D-dove-,” he started. You interrupted him, though. Your soft lips placed themselves on the cheek of his mask. “A good luck charm,” you said softly as you pulled away. Giving V’s shoulder one last squeeze, you let him go. “I shall return soon,” V said as he left. You scolded him again about being reckless, and to be safe . Your heart sank as V’s echoing footsteps faded away leaving you standing alone and cold.

“ I love you baby , and if it’s quite alright I need you baby,” you sang as you grabbed the acrylic paint V had gotten for you. The clock read 1:54 on the wall while the rain continued to pour outside into the night. V had yet to return from doing god knows what in the streets. The smears of white and red paint were splattered across your arms and thighs. The scent of paint and V’s musky smell mixed together as you painted. Your arms and body tingled from the warm embrace he had given you. Thoughts of V took over as your paint brush made graceful strokes on the canvas. Did he even like you back? “As if,” you huffed. “He’s a man with taste.” But what about the pet names? And the flowers! He brings us flowers once he comes back.  “He’s british, being called love and darling is something normal here. The flowers don’t mean anything. It’s not like an obvious red rose or anything,” you told yourself. Stop daydreaming and just accept the fact that V doesn’t like you like in that way. 

 4:33 . “Where the hell is he,” you muttered. The rain continued to pour outside. Your canvas was set drying on the table and you flipped through your phone to entertain yourself.  Thank god for a VPN. You laughed at a funny meme as you scrolled through your feed. The lights flickered. You sucked in a breath and waited. CRASH! You jumped at the loud bang of thunder. Trying to calm yourself down, you continued to scroll through Twitter. The anxiety in your stomach wouldn’t stop eating away. V was out there in this godforsaken storm. What if he got hurt? What if he died? “Stop,” you told yourself sternly. “He’ll be fine.” 

Pop! Darkness embraced you as you sat there. The lights are out. Your breaths became shallow; the dim white light of your phone providing some kind of light source. “Calm down,” you whispered. “We’re gonna be fine.” Turning on your phone’s flashlight and using it as a torch, you crept to the bedroom. Loud crashes and noises made your hair stand up on end. Loud noises meant trouble. Loud noises meant a tantrum from your dad had started or something was here, waiting . Silence meant peace. Silence meant safety.

There was some sense of relief as you made it to the room and closed the door. Diving under the blankets, you whimpered as lightning struck. You curled into yourself and laid there. Hoping that the storm would pass, or V would come home. His scent on the sheets was the only solace you had. He will come home, eventually. You wished for V’s arms to hold and comfort you like the very few times he did before. Usually after a panic attack or when you were at the lowest of your lows. You wanted him to finish reading Lord of the Rings to you and help lull you to sleep. But V wasn’t here. V wasn’t going to hold you, or read you to sleep. He was out saving the country he so loved from it’s awful dictator. You’re weak. V wouldn’t want someone weak. He wants someone brave, and courageous. Someone who’s willing to die for what they love.

A sob bubbled up in your throat and tears threatened to escape from your eyes. You couldn’t breathe; you felt suffocated under the sheets, but if you moved you’d be open, vulnerable. Vulnerability is a weakness, being sad and scared is a weakness. How disgusting you must have looked. Hiding like a small child from the scary monster in their closet. How disgusted would V be if he found you here, under his sheets that were now wet with tears. We need to calm down. We need to stop crying. How pathetic we must look right now. He should’ve left you in that station to die. You deserve to die, you deserve to- .

“Love?” V’s voice broke your thoughts. He sounded so soft and gentle. You cursed at yourself for not noticing the door opening. Now he was going to see how pathetic you really were. V’s black boots slid across the floor when he made way into the room.You felt the bed dip beside you as you laid there. Your breath caught in your throat as you laid there silently under the sheets. Please go away, please don’t uncover the sheets. The cool air hit you as V pulled the sheets back. Cursing at your luck, you took a peak. Funny how creepy the smiling mask was in the dark. V’s hat was still perched on his head, you realized. His gloved fist was curled around something in his hand. A rose. 

“My songbird, what is the matter,” V asked as he took in your tear stricken face. The moonlight shone onto your beautiful face, revealing the wetness of your cheeks. How beautiful you were. V felt guilty once he saw you huddled under the covers, hiding from something. Could it be from yourself? “You’re late,” you croaked, “it’s almost 5 am.” “I apologize my dear, something went a bit south.” You didn’t say anything. Your eyes clenched shut and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip from trembling. V’s head cocked to the side, his lips pulled into a frown underneath the mask. He called out your name. The softness and caring tone made your eyes snap back at him. Suddenly, a crash of thunder hit. You flinched and wormed yourself underneath the sheets even more. V simultaneously realized, at that very moment, how terrified you were of thunder. He felt stupid as he sat there, staring at your shaking form. Of course you would try to seek out comfort whenever you were scared or moody. Hiding was your last resort if there was no comfort to be found. A hand stroked your head causing you to tense up.

The leather of the glove felt cool, and smooth. Brows drawn, you looked up at V. His right arm extended to you, with the gift he had brought. “V,” you whispered as you stared at him with shock. You gently wrapped your hand around the stem, taking it from his hands. “An apology for returning so late…and to ask for a courtship. With you,” V stammered. Even with the mask, you knew V was flustered. “It’s about time,” you joked, your voice a bit hoarse. “Ah yes, well you see I was so nervous and I-I've never-” You cut him off with your lips. The odd but smooth material of the mask’s lips felt foreign against your soft, warm ones. 

V didn’t even have to feel your lips to know they were the softest thing to exist. He just knew. You pulled away slowly, your cheeks warming up a bit. You were bashful, a gentle smile swept across your lips. “Thank you for the rose, it’s beautiful.” “My beautiful maiden, it is quite dark in here. You could not be quite sure of such a thing.” “I’ll kiss you again, V.” You giggled, as he shut up.

“Close your eyes and keep them closed,” V said. You looked at him confused, “Why?”  “I have another gift.” A brow was raised in his direction. He just gestured at you, waiting patiently. “You’re acting pretty sus not gonna lie, but ok.” Your eyes fluttered shut. Time seemed to pass by awfully slow as you waited. Not to mention, the dark that encased you as your lids closed. “V?” “I’m right here love.” You heard something untying and felt something being placed on the bed. How badly you wanted to open your eyes, but you would not betray V like that. The smoothness of his gloves grasped both of your cheeks softly. His fingers stroked them and held cupped your cheeks. You screwed your eyes shut, fighting the urge to open them. What was he doing? Your breath stopped at a halt; his breath was on your lips. He’s going to kiss me! His mask is off! You swallowed nervously as you waited. That’s when you felt it. 

V’s lips were rough and felt scarred. The texture was very different from your own, but you didn’t care. In fact, you cherished it. A sigh escaped your lips as your fingers clutched his cloak, pulling him closer. Teeth nibbled at your lips playfully. V’s scent filled your senses and you felt your head starting to become dizzy. You almost whined once his lips pulled away from yours. Eyes still closed, you waited for the signal to open them again. Your ears perked up as you heard the rustling of cloth and a little grunt from V. “Thank you darling, you can open your eyes again.” There were little dots and squiggles as you opened your eyes, moving in the air. You were a little sad to see the mask on again, but knew better than to press. V would give you the world, but he was still insecure about his skin. You were curious to see him, especially after the glimpse of damaged skin you had seen on his hands. But, you knew better than to ask, let alone force him to show you.

V placed his hat on the bedside table next to him. He was surprised to find you had fallen asleep, though it was quite late. He quietly shimmied out of his cloak and set his knives down on the nightstand. A sigh escaped his lips as he got into more comfortable clothing, followed by discarding his gloves on the table beside him. You had wrapped V around your finger; encasing him with your humour and your kindness. He was at your mercy. You had captivated the man who thought he could no longer feel love. Oh how wrong he was. V wrapped his arms around you and held you close. His art swelled a bit at the sleepy hum you gave him. Your head rested lightly on V’s chest and his arms snuggled you tightly. Your soft snores filled the room once again and V couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Eventually, the masked vigilante fell asleep; the comfort of your love and beauty keeping him warm at night.

[justjessame]

Avery Emerson Clay: Daddy Cams Are the Devil

Dinner was a fend for ourselves situation - Jake grabbed ours and met me outside. He pulled me toward the cart and told me we were taking ours and heading for the trip.

“Are you trying to distract me, Jake Jensen?” I asked, squinting suspiciously at him. His only answer was a smile as he took the wheel and headed toward my playful goats.

We managed a picnic on the cart, Nuisance and Roo were frolicing and demanding attention, and Jake was doing his damnedest to keep my mind on the here and now, and NOT on the Max and Rose. He pulled me from the cart to help with feeding and watering my little trip, getting giggles out of me when the little ones butted him with their safety covered horns. By the end of our mini break, I was feeling marginally less tense.

“There,” he was tilting my chin up with his thumb, his finger tracing my smile. “There’s the smile I’m growing more and more used to,” leaning closer, his lips met mine and I sighed into the feel of him, the warmth and the strength. When we pulled slightly apart, our gazes locked and I was even more relaxed and definitely open to becoming MORE so when we got back to the house and one of our bedrooms.

“Let’s head back,” I murmured and he nodded, clearly of the same mind. “I think it’s time for bed, don’t you?”

I drove the cart back, feeling far more calm than I had since first noticing Rose missing from our family, and by some miracle the only obstacles we ran into in our path to the bedroom were four legged and furry. Once his bedroom door was shut behind us, because Jake insisted we needed a completely different perspective, his mouth met mine and I couldn’t have agreed with him more.

Captain Jake Jensen LOOKED like a muscle bound geek who was utterly awkward and had exactly ZERO in the way of game, but get him started and wow.

Any residual tension I had left was stripped away as he took off each piece of my clothing - teasing my skin with a butterfly light touch, then his lips would ghost past, next his teeth and tongue - until the only thing I could think or focus on was him and me, the room, and how quickly we could get horizontal or hell, he could press me against the wall, I wanted him NOW.

My brain is a funny organ, as Jake was bringing me over the edge, on his bed - without any of my furry loved ones witnessing or trying to join in this time - it hit me. Like a flash of shock, excitement that I’d finally unlocked ANOTHER puzzle piece in Max’s game, and then HORROR - because what my mind had realized as Jake and I were joined, as the muscles of his back rippled in the gleam of the overhead light as he rocked into me and I arched back against him - was this: the same technology that had allowed Dad to know that Clay was home could be accessed by Max and I had a dark feeling had been. The hint about how lovely our house was, the tiny nuggets he tossed out like Hansel and Gretel left to mark their path, and I was SO FUCKING SLOW to figure it out.

“Jake,” I gasped, he had moved just so and I could hardly catch my breath and a HUGE part of me wanted to push what I’d figured out aside and just have this with him, for a moment longer, but then I thought about ROSE. His lips were on my shoulder and I tried again, “Jake,” it came out stronger this time, but he misunderstood, moaning my name in answer and I sighed. “JAKE!” That did it, he rose up, movement stopped and stared down at me, my face was close enough that even without his glasses he could see me perfectly.

“What?” His eyes were wide and I knew he thought he hurt me, or worse, he looked over his shoulder - Dad or Clay had burst in while he was busy.

“I think Max hacked into the security cameras,” he was squinting down at me, trying to mentally catch up with me. “The Daddy cams that Dad has installed all over the house and compound?” His eyes went wide and I thought he might be getting there. “What if he hacked those, or had help getting into them?”

“Like he did your email?” He nodded, but he didn’t pull away. We were still joined and I was a little shocked that he wasn’t growing limp. “You think that one of the GI guys he has -” He had his weight on his elbows and I watched as he thought it through. “I have a program working, it should have Max’s IP address or his VPN even marked by now.” I looked up at him and waited for him to roll off. “Or we could finish -”

I licked my lips and thought about the options available. While I knew that time was of the essence, it did seem rather wasteful to just STOP right here - arching up into his body, Jake’s eyes fluttered shut and then his mouth met mine and we chose to finish what we started. After all, Clays aren’t quitters.

It was full dark when we finished up - a job worth doing was a job worth doing well, people. And I ALMOST felt bad about possibly stopping my fellow Clays from doing their own best work, but what I’d figured out was IMPORTANT. And I was still harboring a HUGE fucking chip on my shoulder over Clay’s bullshit big brother moves and Dad’s nonsense too, so I tried VERY hard to hold back on shouting out with GLEE when I called everyone to meet us in the library.

It took awhile, clearly my family members were as focused on completing their independent missions as I had been, but eventually we were all gathered together again - though we all looked far less tense so I was willing to bet that - for the Clay portion of the team at least - we’d taken advantage of our emotional support partners.

“What was so damn important that you felt the urge to scream ‘FIRE’, Avery Emerson?” Dad’s voice sounded a little more gravely than usual and I almost asked him why that was, if I’d woken him from a restful sleep, but I had a new more important topic to discuss. “I think Max has your Daddy cams hacked.” I’d planned on easing them into it, but my tact came through as always. Dad’s face took on the color of Rose’s oatmeal before she added in the good stuff - fruit, cinnamon, and sugar - while Clay crossed his arms over his chest and waited for more information. “I was in the middle of -” I shot a look at Jake and his face turned a fascinating color combination of reddish purple. “Discussing a variety of complicated positioning tactics with Jake.” My big brother’s expression didn’t change so I went on, “and it hit me - the tiny digs that Max tosses into his emails. Like bread crumbs or puzzle pieces.”

“Such as?” Mom had sat down on the sofa and I took a deep breath while I gathered my thoughts to answer her.

“He mentioned how horrible it would be for our ‘beautiful home’ to be part of the collateral damage - which could be a throwaway line, right?” She nodded. “Clay?” I glanced at my big brother and his eyes narrowed to show he was waiting for the question. “Does Max just toss out throwaway lines, or does he play with his prey?”

And that was all it took to get the ball rolling. Jake was told to move his operation - as it were - to the library. Not only was he searching for the source of Max’s IP or VPN location, but now he had to look into whether or not our security system had a hack or leak. Both should be easy, but what Jake was finding, with the first search at least, was that whomever Max had Pied Pipered away from GI wasn’t a novice in tech or in hiding their tracks.

“This guy is no slouch,” he was studying the screen of his laptop with a look that combined concentration with a healthy dose of respect. “Too bad for him that he’s still not on my level.” I shook my head, but the tug that came low in my belly shocked me a little. I wasn’t expecting to be turned on by the geek side of him.

While Jake worked on his part of finding Max, Dad asked me to grab my laptop to see if I was graced with a response to my last email to the raging asshole. Opening it up, I found a shit ton more work related ones, but nothing from the email associated with him. Shaking my head, I left it up and sitting beside Jake’s. Since it looked like we were in for a long night, I pulled up a chair and started opening up work files - might as well be productive, right?

“Keeping me company?” Jake asked, his fingers moving faster than mine across his keyboard.

My smile was lit by my screen. “The bed is too big without you.”

[eirabach]

This is not six sentences, and the first eight were written like a week ago but whateverrrrrr. The rest are fresh ;)

From Savages 9: Faithful and True

“A VPN? What year is it again?”

“There are things even I don’t want to see. Mostly Gordon’s. Mostly… well.”

A few swipes of his fingers, and an image directory loads. Virgil’s eyebrows disappear into his hairline. “Do the… do the scales go all the way --?”

“Please, Virgil. Please don’t make me think about it.”

“But --” Virgil stops abruptly as a waitress passes their booth, dropping his elbow to the table and using the bulk of his upper body to block John, and the evidence of Gordon’s nighttime habits, from view. “Why?”

“Don’t ask me,” John mumbles, fingers flying through the code that’s now scrolling across a coquettish looking mermaid’s bosom. “Take it up with him if you really, really must. Preferably when I’m back in orbit.”

Take it up with Gordon.

When, not if.

Virgil’s heart flutters, hope nauseatingly close to the surface even now. 

“Not the porn, you idiot,” Virgil hisses before nodding and smiling at the waitress on her return. She lifts an eyebrow towards the coffee pot and Virgil mentally counts the credits left in his pocket before shaking his head. “Why the VPN?”

“Like I said.” John looks up, and for the first time since -- everything, green eyes glow with satisfaction. The code spins, too fast for Virgil, too fast for almost anyone. Almost. “There are things no one needs to see.”