#get root access One Click Root

[yaespook]

Run 4 - In Progress.

✧ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Android! Wanderer, no gendered terms used for reader, no actual penetration, unhealthy obsessive and possessive relationship from Wanderer, memory manipulation. Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: If possible, use the InteractiveFics extension to change the phrase “My name” (without the quotation marks) to the name given to your Wanderer.

There’s an unfamiliar android sitting atop your worktable.

You must have picked him up two or three weeks ago, when he was still worse for wear. In your memory, he was in pretty bad shape when the two of you first met, his main panel wrenched open leaving his circuitry a mess and rough scrapes all over his superficial layer.

Now, with your constant repairs, he’s been more lively, tailing you around the house as you go about your day. While fussing about, dusting off a muzzle laying on a fur pelt, you sense a presence lingering outside your room.

"You know, I don't recall androids being quite so clingy." In return, you get a light huff from behind the door frame. 

"And you’ve come across other androids? I didn’t know you run a junkyard here,” the eye roll in his tone is audible.

His feet pad into the room and his gaze hones in on the clerical collar placed on a nearby shelf, glaring at it. Clicking his tongue, he crosses his hands on his chest.

“Whatever, what you do is mostly up to you anyway. Do you think you’re almost done cleaning? I think there’s an internal problem again, I’ll wait for you at the worktable,” the android saunters off nonchalantly, throwing you a light wave over his shoulder.

Sighing, you quickly finish up your task at hand before complying to his request, briskly making your way over to the worktable where he's already perched smugly on, his gaze expectant. 

You easily go through the rehearsed motions of plugging him up to your computer, your muscle memory kicking in as you boot up the required softwares before gingerly prying the main panel located on the front of his torso to gain access to his internal workings. Over time, you've gradually figured out the parts that make up the android sitting before you, growing used to the sight of the lengths of wiring and cables running throughout his body, the faint low mechanical whirring of motors and cooling systems. 

Most importantly, you now understand how sensitive his central core is. Nestled securely in a latched transparent casing, his core is what powers and sustains him. It emits a constant turquoise light and is also reflected in the glowing markings that lay beneath his synthetic skin that occasionally activate. (Although, you haven't quite gotten an answer for what makes them light up yet.) 

“So what's your problem today?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from him as you go over to your computer to check if any bugs have been identified.

“I think that cable all the way at the back came undone and got tangled with the rest.” 

You shoot him a pointed look, “Again? Didn’t we just fix that same cable last week?” Shifting your chair so you’re seated before him, poised to conduct your repairs, you make a passing remark, “Maybe taking you to another mechanic might be the better choice, get everything checked out, you know?”

How long have you kept at your task of finally fixing him up to tiptop condition? It’s almost daily when he reports back to you with a new disconnected wire or another loose joint somewhere on him. Diligently, you’ve been trying to repair him but the android is like a never-ending to-do list. And it’s only natural to be concerned if the constant damage stems from a more serious underlying issue that you haven’t managed to discover. The only next logical step would be to get another pair of eyes to help discern the root cause in case anything takes a turn for the worse.

But the reaction you get from him is one unexpected. His head snaps to face you, a scowl evident on his face. 

“So you’re handing me off like an unfinished project to someone else now?”

You know how snippy he can get however, this is on a different level from his previous behaviour. Maybe something left over from the days before you found him. It’ll be a good idea to look into his past logs to diagnose any present problems, you make a mental note of it.

“I’m just worried for you, that’s all. What if there’s an urgent issue I can’t fix alone? And we both know I can’t leave you as is.”

His expression mellows to an annoyed pout, looking away as his core glows faintly along with the patterns under his skin, he mumbles, “I’ll be fine.” (“I just need you.”) (“I'm the only one for you.”) (“No one else deserves you.”)

He allows you to work without another complaint, silently watching as your hands venture into his chest, a focused air to you while you look for the problematic cable. He senses your touch when you make contact with it, sucking in a sharp breath as you grip it between your fingers, twisting it around to free it from the surrounding wires before you finally connect and plug it into its rightful place. 

“That’s it for your cable issue. Anything else?” He quickly shakes his head.

Giving it a few light cursory pulls to make sure it’s finally secured, (if you weren’t mistaken, his core brightened in time with your tugs), you spare the rest of his parts one last look over. Then, shutting the panel, you unplug him from the computer.

Immediately, he scampers off the worktable with a clipped “thank you” and runs into his room. You hear the door to his room close before its lock clicks. 

The next few days prove to be better, the repair requests for any troubles that seem to have cropped up overnight growing more and more infrequent. Perhaps, bit by bit, the end of the repairs start to come into sight. 

Although, you have noted that his internal temperatures have been hiking recently whenever you have his chest panel open to patch him up. 

This time, you have him lying on the worktable on his back to access the further areas in him. He’s positioned facing upwards but his eyes are darting everywhere, unable to meet your gaze. Once again, the programme open on your computer screen shows how his temperatures are quickly rising even though there are no obvious reasons for such a sudden change. It records the recurrence into its troubleshooting log like before, more times than you can remember.

He’s panting lightly, the android’s chest moving up and down as your ears pick up the sound of his inner fans whir louder, his pre-programmed functions activating to try to cool him down. With no clue as to what could cause this issue, you reach in to look for a fault. Yet, the more you poke and prod around, the higher the warmth within him rises. 

Left with more questions than answers, you turn to his core for a closer look. When your fingers brush against the transparent casing, a moan slips out from him, and instantly his head whips to look at you dumbfounded.

An artificial blush takes over his face, a low pink glow blooming from beneath the synthetic layer. A beat passes before he cracks his lips apart, voicebox working as he pleads.

“...Again.”

Gently, you let your fingertips dance over the clasp hinging the casing shut and his response is instant. A shudder rolls through him, as real as it can be, and a shaky exhale leaves him. The android’s back arches up slightly, hastily chasing after your touch when you remove your hand.

Your caress returns when your hand dips deeper into his circuitry, where you hook two fingers underneath his thicker cables, attentively stroking them between your thumb and fingers, before tugging on them forcefully enough to elicit a reaction from him. 

His eyes fly open at your ministrations, a greed for more overtaking his processors. You’ve always been so gentle with him when he’s opened up for you, when you have access to the deepest parts of him, when he’s at his most vulnerable. So, to have you toy around with him, show him the indulgence of human flesh, can you really fault him for falling for you?

The tips of your fingers ghost along the length of his metal spine, and the android keens from under you.

“Please, more, I can take it!”

Taking his cue, your hand encircles his spine, grinding the heel of your palm against the ridges of the sensitive metal elements as you pump up and down. 

“Sss- so good! Hah…!” He can’t control how he behaves when you treat him so well, like he’s the only one worthy of your attention. He shakes under your touch, trembling as the addictive pleasure overrides his programmed commands.

“No more blubbering, just focus on me.” Your other hand goes to cup his chin, and obediently, he parts his lips for you, allowing you to slip your thumb into his mouth. You can feel his tongue work and when you press down, he jolts suddenly. A gag reflex? In an android? How amusing.

When you stop stroking him, he whines pitifully, muffled moans and begging for you to continue but his complaints stop when he feels you unlatch the lid of his core casing.

“Would you let me?” And the flurry of nods from him confirms his enthusiasm.

With bated breath, he counts the seconds before you make contact with his core. And when he senses your caress on his glowing core in his exposed chest cavity, he breathes out a gasp, as if he requires the intake of air. None of this is written into the basis of his behaviour, not fed into the dataset that makes up how he’s supposed to act, so everything he feels for you must be real.

His eyes go unfocused as his neural network is flooded with the raw pleasure of being enveloped with love and lust down to his literal core. Desire burns within him, evident from the fans whirring even louder than before to bring down his temperatures. It’s just so much for the android’s computations to handle. Broken moans leave him as he tries to vocalise his love for you (as best as he can with his thumb in your mouth). 

And when you press a kiss to his unprotected core, his vision whites out.

Eyes wrenched shut, his whole mechanical body jerks upwards, back arching off the worktable as his body propels himself to sit up, his limbs trying to ensnare you in his embrace, to keep you with him as long as he can. Every command in his system is overwritten to hone in on all the sensations of you on him, your touch, your warmth.

The patterns under his skin glow with a pulse, akin to a human’s heartbeat and when his eyes open again, glimmering faux tears roll down his face. His chest heaves as you close the distance between the two of you, cupping his face with both your hands and kissing his tears away.

The android breaks the intimate silence as he quietly asks you, “Can you give me a name?”

When you whisper a name into his ear, he breaks into sobs in your hands.

The days pass by, uneventful, and the time for a final cursory check before deeming him fully repaired comes. He’s poised on the worktable like any other previous session, a bored expression on his face as you flit back and forth between him and the software on your computer.

“You really are a clingy case,” you say and get a huff in return, “But a welcome one.”

Remembering your mental note from before about accessing his past logs, you access it from your computer, pulling up the window with his stored recorded data. The log operates in the background constantly, one of the built-in functions of the android and a quick glance over just to make sure everything is in order should do.

However, the logs prove to be worrying in a completely different way.

[Log: Day 10 - Run 1 - Failed. Werewolf. They’re with that mangy mutt. I don’t know what they see in him. I still remember the care they showed me. There’s always the next run.]

[Log: Day 20 - Run 2 - Failed. It seems I’m too late this time around. That vile selkie captured them first. How irritating. I need to stop hesitating. It’s my love on the line after all.]

[Log: Day 30 - Run 3 - Failed. Incubus. That damn priest and incubus. I can feel my temper reaching its breaking point.]

[Log: Day ??? - Run 4 - In progress. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.]

Your eyes rake across a multitude of grainy snapshots of yourself, all with different people that you can’t find the ability to recall, your mind pounding from the discovery. 

He’s gazing expectantly when you look back up at him from the screen. A grin twists its way across his face, canines glinting under the dizzying harsh lighting.

“So now you’ve seen how much I love you, even if you don’t remember it.” There’s a sick obsession dripping in his tone, an uncanny level of emotion that androids normally shouldn’t be able to replicate, one that sends a heavy uneasiness through your whole being, one that roots you to the ground. 

When he doesn’t get the adoring reaction from you he expects, the proud expression on his face falls instantly. 

He’s despondent, despairing as he tears the connecting cables off of him, launching himself off the worktable, lunging across for you, frenzied, pure scorching mania surging through him. 

“You… even after all these runs. You’ve always given me the same thing. My name. I thought this time- You-” 

Voice shaky, “It’s a shame this run didn’t work out either.” 

He steels himself, hand outstretched, “No matter.”

You blink.

There’s an unfamiliar android sitting atop your worktable.

Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.

#📜.Shapeshifting Hallways #📜.qi writings #📜.qi musings #yandere #genshin x reader #genshin smut #sub genshin #yandere genshin #wanderer x reader #wanderer smut #sub wanderer #yandere wanderer #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #sub scaramouche #yandere scaramouche #sub yandere #android smut #sub android #yandere android #dom reader #kinktober

[ask-the-prose]

Do Your Research

This phrase is regularly thrown around writeblr and for good reason. It's important to research what you are writing about to know what to include, what can be fudged, and how to depict whatever you're writing. I see "do your research" most thrown around by well-meaning and highly traditionally educated writers. It's solid advice, after all!

But how do you research?

For those writers who don't already have the research skills necessary to write something comfortably already downloaded into your brain, I put this guide together for you.

Where do I even start?

It's a daunting task, research. But the best place to start is with the most basic, stupidest question you can think of. I'm going to talk about something that I already know a lot about: fighting.

When researching fight scenes, a great way to start is to look up what different weapons are. There are tons out there! So ask the stupid questions. What is a sword? What is a gun? How heavy are they?

Google and Wikipedia can help you a lot with these basic-level questions. They aren't great sources for academic articles, but remember, this is fiction. It doesn't need to be perfect, and it doesn't need to be 100% accurate if you don't want it to be. But knowing what is true to life will help you write well. Just like knowing the rules of writing will help you break them.

You may find in your basic research sweep that you have a lot more specific questions. Write them all down. It doesn't matter if they seem obvious. Write them down because they will be useful later.

How To Use Wikipedia Correctly

Wikipedia is a testament to cooperative human knowledge. It's also easy to edit by anonymous users, which means there is a lot of room for inaccuracies and misleading information. Wikipedia is usually pretty good about flagging when a source is needed or when misleading language is obvious, but Wikipedia itself isn't always the most accurate or in-depth source.

Wikipedia is, however, an excellent collection of sources. When I'm researching a subject that I know nothing about, say Norse mythology, a good starting point is the Wikipedia page for Odin. You'll get a little background on Odin's name and Germanic roots, a little backstory on some of the stories, where they appear, and how they are told.

When you read one of the sentences, and it sparks a new question, write the question down, and then click on the superscript number. This will take you directly to the linked source for the stated fact. Click through to that source. Now you have the source where the claim was made. This source may not be a primary source, but a secondary source can still lead you to new discoveries and details that will help you.

By "source-hopping," you can find your way across the internet to different pieces of information more reliably. This information may repeat itself, but you will also find new sources and new avenues of information that can be just as useful.

You mean I don't need a library?

Use your library. Libraries in many parts of the US are free to join, and they have a wealth of information that can be easily downloaded online or accessed via hardcopy books.

You don't, however, need to read every source in the library for any given topic, and you certainly don't need to read the whole book. Academic books are different from fiction. Often their chapters are divided by topic and concept and not by chronological events like a history textbook.

For example, one of my favorite academic books about legislative policy and how policy is passed in the US, by John Kingdon, discusses multiple concepts. These concepts build off one another, but ultimately if you want to know about one specific concept, you can skip to that chapter. This is common in sociological academic books as well.

Going off of my Norse Mythology example in the last section, a book detailing the Norse deities and the stories connected to them will include chapters on each member of the major pantheon. But if I only care about Odin, I can focus on just the chapters about Odin.

Academic Articles and How To Read Them

I know you all know how to read. But learning how to read academic articles and books is a skill unto itself. It's one I didn't quite fully grasp until grad school. Learn to skim. When looking at articles published in journals that include original research, they tend to follow a set structure, and the order in which you read them is not obvious. At all.

Start with the abstract. This is a summary of the paper that will include, in about half a page to a page, the research question, hypothesis, methods/analysis, and conclusions. This abstract will help you determine if the answer to your question is even in this article. Are they asking the right question?

Next, read the research question and hypothesis. The hypothesis will include details about the theory and why the researcher thinks what they think. The literature review will go into much more depth about theories, what other people have done and said, and how that ties into the research of the present article. You don't need to read that just yet.

Skim the methods and analysis section. Look at every data table and graph included and try to find patterns yourself. You don't need to read every word of this section, especially if you don't understand a lot of the words and jargon used. Some key points to consider are: qualitative vs. quantitative data, sample size, confounding factors, and results.

(Some definitions for those of you who are unfamiliar with these terms. Qualitative data is data that cannot be quantified into a number. These are usually stories and anecdotes. Quantitative data is data that can be transferred into a numerical representation. You can't graph qualitative data (directly), but you can graph quantitative data. Sample size is the number of people or things counted (n when used in academic articles). Your sample size can indicate how generalizable your conclusions are. So pay attention. Did the author interview 300 subjects? Or 30? There will be a difference. A confounding factor is a factor that may affect the working theory. An example of a theory would be "increasing LGBTQ resources in a neighborhood would decrease LGBTQ hate crimes in that area." A confounding factor would be "increased reporting of hate crimes in the area." The theory, including the confounding factor, would look like "increasing LGBTQ resources in a neighborhood would increase the reporting of hate crimes in the area, which increases the number of hate crimes measured in that area." The confounding factor changes the outcome because it is a factor not considered in the original theory. When looking at research, see if you can think of anything that may change the theory based on how that factor interacts with the broader concept. Finally, the results are different from the conclusions. The results tell you what the methods spit out. Analysis tells you what the results say, and conclusions tell you what generalizations can be made based on the analysis.)

Next, read the conclusion section. This section will tell you what general conclusions can be made from the information found in the paper. This will tell you what the author found in their research.

Finally, once you've done all that, go back to the literature review section. You don't have to read it necessarily, but reading it will give you an idea of what is in each sourced paper. Take note of the authors and papers sourced in the literature review and repeat the process on those papers. You will get a wide variety of expert opinions on whatever concept or niche you're researching.

Starting to notice a pattern?

My research methods may not necessarily work for everybody, but they are pretty standard practice. You may notice that throughout this guide, I've told you to "source-hop" or follow the sources cited in whatever source you find first. This is incredibly important. You need to know who people are citing when they make claims.

This guide focused on secondary sources for most of the guide. Primary sources are slightly different. Primary sources require understanding the person who created the source, who they were, and their motivations. You also may need to do a little digging into what certain words or phrases meant at the time it was written based on what you are researching. The Prose Edda, for example, is a telling of the Norse mythology stories written by an Icelandic historian in the 13th century. If you do not speak the language spoken in Iceland in 1232, you probably won't be able to read anything close to the original document. In fact, the document was lost for about 300 years. Now there are translations, and those translations are as close to the primary source you can get on Norse Mythology. But even then, you are reading through several veils of translation. Take these things into account when analyzing primary documents.

Research Takes Practice

You won't get everything you need to know immediately. And researching subjects you have no background knowledge of can be daunting, confusing, and frustrating. It takes practice. I learned how to research through higher formal education. But you don't need a degree to write, so why should you need a degree to collect information? I genuinely hope this guide helps others peel away some of the confusion and frustration so they can collect knowledge as voraciously as I do.

– Indy

#writing advice #writing tips #writing resources #writeblr #amwriting #writblr #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writing help #writing guide #how to research #reading research articles #do some research #do your own research #do your research #research for writers #writing research #writing tip #writing reference #writer tips

[mattsenthusiast]

𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙚 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠~ Matt Sturniolo

Summary: You finally decided to get your first tattoo. But what if your tattoo artist senses your nerves and tries to make you feel better?

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), exhibitionism, hand kink, breath play if you squint, needles, pet names, degrading and praising, Dom!Matt, fingering, oral (female receiving), p in v

Word count: 2k

——————————

I looked into the small mirror one last time to make sure I looked presentable before exiting my car.

Today is the day- I was about to get my first tattoo. I’ve been looking forward to it since I was 13, maybe even younger, and my dreams will finally come true.

My legs were shaking slightly from excitement and nerves as I entered the building and made my way upstairs.

The arrangement of the main room was rather dark. Long curtains were covering huge windows that were spread all the way along one wall, and the black drawings decorating any free space on the walls were a perfect finish to the whole vibe.

My eyes scanned the room for a few more seconds before landing on the main desk- specifically on a person sitting behind it.

The man’s gaze was fixated on the computer screen as his fingers swiftly clicked the keyboard. He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt that exposed his slightly toned arms covered in tattoos. His hair was a perfect length, long enough to sit gently on his forehead but short enough to not cover his vision. Dark, circular glasses were sitting on the bridge of his nose. The sight alone made my heart skip a beat and I knew that I’ll be fucked until the end of the appointment.

I approached the desk and that’s when he looked up at me with his blue eyes. I swear I could see them wander down my body for a moment before he cleared his throat.

,,Hey, what can I help you with?”

,,Hello, I actually have an appointment for 6:30. I figured I’ll be a few minutes earlier just in case” I offered him a smile which he returned.

,,oh yeah! You must be y/n, nice to meet you. I’m Matt and I’ll be taking care of you today” he straightened his hand into my direction. I shook it and couldn’t get over how soft and big they are ,,why don’t you follow me to my station and we’ll get to work, sounds good?”

Before I could start my answer he already stood up from the chair ,,yup sounds great!” he smiled at me once again and led me to a different room.

His work room was no different than the lobby- dark and fancy looking. The nerves that were rooting inside of me were showing more and more. I started to play with the hem of my skirt and balancing from one leg to another.

,,Okay so you can make yourself comfortable while I pull up the project from my shelf. Where’d you like to get the tattoo again?”

,,Right under my collarbone. It’s cute and minimalistic so I thought it’ll be a good idea you know” I tried to keep the conversation going.

,,I got ya. Do you have any other tattoos or is it your first one?” He asked while preparing the equipment.

,,No, it’s my first one. I’ve always wanted one so now that I’m finally able to I decided to fuck it and come over here. Now that I’m about to get it done I’m scared” I laughed slightly after realizing that I’m rambling from my nerves.

Matt offered me a soft smile and got closer to me. He started to slide the straps of my top and bra to get a better access to my collarbone. His hands were slightly grazing over my skin and the rings he was wearing left a cold feeling over me. A breath got stuck in my throat at his action, but I tried to cover it up with a cough.

,,Alright, I’m just going to put a stencil on your skin so there’s nothing to worry about. Just try not to move to much, alright sweetheart?” He spoke softly while clearing my skin with an antibacterial gel. His voice as smooth as butter. I wonder if his tongue would also be this smooth on my pu-

,,Earth to y/n, are you okay? I asked if you’re ready for me to start tattooing you?”

,,I- yeah you can start please” I looked away from him, my cheeks burning from the image that my mind just put me in.

,,thank you, I’m just gonna get into it, if you need a break just let me know. First tattoos are always scary. Been there, done that”

He put his left hand dangerously close to my boobs. He had to stretch the skin for a better access, but it still made me wet. The veins that ran through his hands were right at my sight now and I couldn’t get enough of looking at them.

That’s when I felt it. The sensation of a needle with ink being stabbed into my skin. To my surprise the pain was not the only thing I could feel. There was also something else, was it a pleasure? I moaned at the two sensations mixing together and my eyes widened.

,,Sh sh shhh, you’re doing so good princess, so good for me” Matt whispered- almost whimpered- the praises to me. I could feel the hand that was just holding my skin crawl down to my thigh, really close to my dripping core since my skirt as ridden up. He started rubbing small circles on my leg and his other hand was tattooing me like nothing was happening. Like the sexual tension and filthy activity and thoughts were absent.

I could help myself though. I kept squirming in my seat and groaning every time he pressed the needle into my skin.

,,I think I should distract you from the tattooing. A good orgasm would do it for you, wouldn’t it baby? Do I need to touch you or can you cum just from the pain? I know you’re enjoying it, you’re just a little slut”

,,I mmmmm, please touch me Matt, please” I whined and looked straight into his eyes.

,,Good girl, asking me so nicely. How can I say no to such a pretty girl” he smirked darkly and his hand started going further under my skirt, finally reaching my dripping core.

,,Really? No underwear? Such a whore, you’re practically begging to be fucked. Now, you’ll let me finish the tattoo for the next 10 minutes and don’t you dare to cum. Understood?”

,,Yes sir” my mind was already going foggy and him slightly rubbing against my pussy, so when he put two of his digits into me and I let out a loud moan, he wasn’t surprised at all.

The 10 minutes felt like hours. Matt kept mindless thrusting his long fingers inside of me while being focused on his work. Not cumming was a real challenge to me considering that a wet dream of a man was sitting in front of me and touching my body.

,,Okay, and you’re all done. Normally I’d give you a mirror to see the tattoo right away but I’m so desperate to make you come so you’ll have to live in a mystery for a bit longer” with that being said he removed his fingers from me and licked them clean.

Before I could even say a word, his face was already pressed to my pussy, eating me out as his nose perfectly bumped into his clit.

I was a moaning mess. My hands made their way to his hair, pulling him deeper into me. He was like a starving man that hasn’t eaten for the past week. As my orgasm was approaching I closed my legs around his head, definitely cutting his access to air. It was so unbelievably hot, especially since his eyes never left mine. It only took him a few more licks before I was squirting all over his face and the chair I was sitting in.

,,SHIT I’m so sorry oh my lord I didn’t mea-“ I was cut off by his lips being pressed to mine, tasting myself off of his tongue.

,,no need to be sorry sweetheart, that was the sexiest thing I have ever seen” he gave me a cheeky wink and pressed his lips to mine once again.

,,I’ve got a deal for you. I get to fuck you right now and you can walk out with a free tattoo and my number. How does that sound hmmm?”

I actually couldn’t believe my ears, but who I was to resist a hot man who wants me? So I wasted no time and started rubbing his bulge through his pants, as a sign that he can do whatever he wants to me.

,,that’s what I wanted to see” he groaned at my action and placed his hands under my shirt. His palms playing with my boobs and twisting my them.

He definitely noticed that it’s my sensitive spot because soon he was taking my shirt off and throwing it across the room, his plump lips attacking my nipples.

The feeling was unbelievable, but I couldn’t help but want more. I took the matter into my own hands and started to unbuckle his pants, taking it off right with his boxers.

,,you’re a needy slut holy shit. If you want to act like this then fine. I’ll fuck you like one”

The next thing I know is that I was turned around and my whole body was pressed into one of the big windows. It was already getting dark and the studio was on the second floor, but it didn’t change the fact that the street was still busy and if someone looks up, they can easily see what’s going on here.

It only thrilled me more though. I swear Matt was making me learn so much about myself tonight.

His hands found their place on my body, one was on my hips when the other one wrapped right around my neck. The hem of his shirt was in between his teeth and his glasses were slightly fogged.

Wasting no time, he pushed his dick into me, stretching my walls to an unbelievable level. I let out a scream, but he paid no mind to this and immediately started thrusting deep inside of me.

,,I know you like it rough so take it like a good girl. Take the pain of my cock drilling into you. What would all of those people think if they saw you right now? They’d probably take you for a slut and they wouldn’t be wrong”

I couldn’t say anything at that point. All of this was too much for me to think straight and all that was on my mind was that I was already close. Matt could feel me clenching around his cock and brought his hand to rub my clit.

His peace never slowed down and before I knew it, I was cumming all over his dick. His thrust didn’t stop after this thought. He kept going and going until he reached his high and came on my back.

We were both panting from exhaustion and bliss. I couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle at the whole situation.

,,So, now that you fucked me senseless, can I get your number that you promised me so we can go one a date?”

The silence was broken by our laughter.

——————————

Tattoo artist Matt has finally made an appearance!!! Next up we have that youtuber dating thingy so bare with me😚

Not proofread sorry!!!

Tag list (lmk if you wanna be on it!!!!): @st7rnioioss

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #smut

[monsterblogging]

So, it finally clicked that while the average person does in fact broadly comprehend that people are neither good nor evil - they're good and bad, and have free will - they also can't understand why some people would fully commit themselves to completely awful causes or to being a terrible person throughout their entire lives. They can't really picture how this works, because they can't imagine themselves choosing to die on a hill of Being A Terrible Person.

This void in their comprehension is where the myth of the Ontologically Evil Person is very likely to come and settle in sooner or later, because it seems to finally provide an answer that makes sense of otherwise senseless cruelty and violence. Agonizing questions like "Why would my boyfriend spend so much energy on making me feel like shit and breaking me down?" "Why would this historical figure decided to kill all of these people?" and "Why would this guy go start a cult and murder everyone?" are finally given an answer, and the formerly-bewildered person finally has some peace of mind.

Because of this, the myth of the Ontologically Evil Person is incredibly hard to get out of people's minds once it takes root. For one thing, bad ideas are like bad habits; it doesn't really work to tell people to Just Stop With Them, because without something else to take its place? They're going to fall back on it.

And if somebody's been traumatized from abuse? The last thing they want to hear is that they're basically dehumanizing their abuser and that's not cool, because it feels to them like the other person is taking their abuser's side and telling them to get fucked. Even if this not what's happening, the survivor's brain is currently operating on fight/flight/fawn/freeze mode, and a brain operating fight/flight/freeze/fawn mode is keyed to making snap decisions to try and remove you from the danger as soon as possible, which means categorizing everything into black and white. This person couldn't care less about the history of eugenics right now; literally all they care about is being safe.

"Okay, so if the Ontologically Evil Person doesn't exist, how the hell do you explain those fuckers over there?" some of you are probably asking.

Here's the deal. Literally every human being alive can and will do terrible things if they're sufficiently scared and desperate. They're in no position to appreciate that nearly all asshole behavior can be explained by a lack of critical social and self-management skills, or by a lack of access to self-improvement (including being too traumatized to trust means of self-improvement).

People who are scared, insecure, and under high levels of stress will often cling to anything that makes them feel better, because they want to feel safe and secure and not in psychological and/or physical agony. (Stress does an absolute number on your body, too.)

Being reliant on a shitty behavior, belief system, or product for some measure of feeling secure and safe is how you get people saying things like "If I didn't act mean, everyone would just walk all over me!" or "I was really depressed before I found this, so if I gave it up I'm going to get depressed again, and I might hurt myself." (And there might be some truth to this one! This might indeed happen if they give it up cold turkey, and without finding an alternative!) It's how you get people conducting """scientific""" studies to """prove""" that their bigotry is totally justified and not at all irrational. ("Well of course these people are genetically inferior, they wouldn't be poor and disease-ridden if they weren't... what do you mean, systemic inequality and uneven healthcare access? No that's obviously fake and made up by More Bad People.")

People also act in unhealthy ways to deal with personal insecurities implanted by parents or society. You have people out there whose parents drummed it into their heads that second place was for worthless losers, or that no one would love them if they didn't look or act a certain way. You have people who absorbed the idea that acknowledging the basic humanity of shitty people means that they have to forgive them and personally help them get better and just suffer through the abuse in the meantime.

This is how people choose to die on the hill of Being A Terrible Person. They weren't ontologically evil. They were scared, and they thought they saw a fortress on the top of that hill that would keep them (and perhaps also their loved ones) safe.

#evil #morality #people #shitty people #abuse #radicalization

[plush-rabbit]

Johnathan Ohnn Headcanons

Request: Hi! If its okay, can you make HCs of Johnathan Ohnn with a partner who likes walking around as a stim? They're only comfortable doing it around at home/their room since they feel like its embarrassing. They literally just get up and start shuffling about. Spinning around. Like. Circling a table as if they were a hawk. Doing laps. In a silly manner. Thank you! 💞

A/N: I like to hc he has this stim because when he meets miles he does little steps and im like !!! (i also added a bit more of some other moving stims)

When you start to talk about things that interest you, Johnathan takes notice of how your whole body seems to become animated. Your hands will move around, fingers spreading open and curling over into claws, as you tell him about a new television show that you’ve recently gotten into. Slowly, your legs start to bounce, and he can see just how stimulated you are. Your legs will kick out, the tips of your feet tapping against the floor, and soon you’re up and walking around. Your voice is raised, and you stutter over your words, and he’s interested in it all, clinging to every word and nodding along as you speak without a filter. When you smile at him, bright and with teeth glinting under the light, he knows he would listen to you rant about anything as long as it’s you. 

There are moments where he can tell you’re getting nervous at how much you pace, and you’ll retreat somewhere private for a moment. He’s figured it out that you might feel embarrassed about how you stim, so he tries to make his presence aware before visiting you or giving you the space you need. Even if he does have a key to your home, he always makes sure to knock or at least give you a heads up of when he’s going to arrive. He doesn’t ever want you to feel ashamed about your stims, so he makes sure that whatever boundaries have been placed- such as you preferring your privacy- he’ll respect it without questioning it. He understands the boundaries that are placed, and he never wants to feel as if he’s trying to be privy to your every inner thought.

He’s taken into account of your spinning chair in your room with the faux leather peeled and the chair clicking when you turn. Whether he knows spinning is one of your stims or not, he takes it upon himself to get you a new spinning chair. He can see how much you like yours- how you roll around your room, how you prefer to stay seated at your desk, and the fact of how worn it is. The new chair is similar to your old one, and he doesn’t expect you to use it if you’re still clearly attached to your old one, but he does give it to you as an alternative to when your old chair starts to leave pieces of leather stuck to the back of your thighs. 

With your chair, he’s also gifted you a nice pair of headphones. Music seems to help stimulate you, and he notices that when the two of you ride in a car together, you like to replay songs or tap along with the beat. He might not know the full extent of your stimming, so he’ll try to give you things that might help in putting you in a more relaxed state. Music is common interest for most people, so he’ll make you playlists or give you access to his, to listen to when you feel energy just build up without having any sort of outlet for it to express itself in. 

If time allows for it, he likes to take walks with you. He knows how stimulated you can get and can relate to the bursts of energy, so the two of you will go on walks together to burn off the energy. You have this skip in your step, and he can tell how you want to just run by the way you jog to the nearest tree and point out a root to him, bouncing in your step and waving at him to catch up to you. While walking is a nice leisure activity for the two of you, he gets that you just need to run, so he’ll sit at a bench with a notebook on his lap as you jog around the park.

Joining you for the occasional walk brings him joy. He likes how you’ll hold his hand in yours, keeping a tight grip on it and pulling him along to everything interesting that you see. You shuffle along, slowly growing closer to him, that the two of you bump against each other, your arms wrapping around one of his, desperate to keep him close to you. Your body builds up its own tension and you pull him along, begging for him to quicken his pace, only to be met with defiance as he stands still. You slap playfully at his arm and pull forward, and he watches your back, watches as you find something that catches your gaze and steadily, he approaches you.

Being so close to you, he’s gotten better at picking up when you’re starting to have bursts of energy. Your legs will bounce, and you’ll tap at the ground, and your hands will flap. It’s easy to tell when you’re enjoying your time somewhere with him because of how much you beam. It’s written so clearly, and he can tell that you need to do something, and when the table shakes and you talk about a series that you’re watching, he’s invested in hearing your words. He latches onto every thought, nodding and asking questions, enraptured by how animated and lively you are. 

If your pacing is more of an anxiety response, he tries to take notice of what is causing you to become so anxious. You pace around, and he’ll watch, asking you questions to help bring you back down to reality. He tries to help ground you- to get you to voice your worries, but it only worsens them, and your pacing has become more rapid, more unorganized as you worry at your bottom lip. When you finally sit down, only to stand again a few moments later, he just sits there, letting you vent to him.

It’s when you're anxious does he get worried. You pace and pace, and you can’t seem to stop moving. You talk, words slurring and stuttering against one another, that it makes it difficult to keep up with your train of thought. You pace around the coffee table, and you hide yourself in the kitchen, walking back out with a bit more of a rush in your step. He tries to talk to you, to get you to calm down, but when it seems that you’re only growing more anxious, he kisses the top of your head, and motions for you to go relax in your room, to stimulate yourself until you can finally hear your thoughts. 

With Johnathan becoming The Spot, it’s gotten difficult to take walks with you. He can cover up in jackets and hats, but he still feels the stares that people give him. You rationalize that most people probably think it’s those skin-tight costumes, and while he’ll agree with a wordless nod, he still doesn’t like the stares. While he’s understood your need to walk when stimming, and has even indulged in it himself, he never got the euphoria from doing paces until then. Holding your hand in his, he likes to just run with you as if there’s something that the two of you are running from. And when the two of you are sat on the ground, grass plucked between your fingertips and your head on his shoulder, he wishes that he had run with you more, that he had taken your hand earlier and just ran until his legs gave out and until he was far away.

#jonathan ohnn x reader #johnathon ohnn #jonathan ohnn headcanons #johnathan ohnn x reader #jonathan ohnn #the spot #the spot atsv #the spot headcanons #the spot spiderverse #the spot x reader #im sorry if these arent as good!! #youd think these would be good #because like i have this stim #i put on some tunes and just stim all over #i got my chair and all #um i had something else to say #but i forgot #aw dip

[youaremyhome]

Pieces of the Night: Blackhole Horizon

Warnings: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Reader, 18+ NSFW, smut, HEAVY non-con/dub-con, drug use, possessive behavior, DARK. More to add. Read at your own risk.

Notes: 3k words. Ya'll i've been struggling to write only because i have so many ideas for this fic and can't control myself lol disclaimer: I know nothing of marketing/business majors

Taglist: @belcalis9503 @ACRAZYBIOTCH374 @fangirlwithlou

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist!

It was easy to get access of your class schedule. Easier to switch to your class with just a smile and a last name.

The shock on your face was downright adorable the first day. He should’ve known you were the type of person to sit in the second row, a seat conveniently open beside you. By the time you recovered, the professor addressed the room, forcing you to stay put. You bolted right out of your seat once the lecture was over, giving Rafe no time to corner you. And he’s realized it was a problem to get you alone. Anywhere you went, you had friends. Whether it was new acquaintances or your roommates, you were frequently being escorted like the princess you were. Luckily for him, you knew no one in your shared class.

So, imagine his surprise come next lecture, you've completely moved seats to the back row. He pegged you as someone that followed societal rules, like the silent one in college where you usually don’t move your seat from the first lessons. It wasn’t a bother to him, he simply slipped into the seat next to you. Thus, the game of musical chairs began.

Wherever you went, Rafe followed. No matter if you came in last minute (he had an open seat ready for you since it was a full class) or if you came in early (he made it a habit to come in twenty minutes before start time), Rafe was sitting next to you by the time the professor was lecturing.

On Wednesday of the third week, Rafe comes strolling in, ready to play another round of this fun game. Except, you’re in the same seat from Monday in the fourth row. He can’t contain his victorious grin. Puffing up his chest, he eases his way into the plastic chair. Blue eyes flicking over the multitude of different pens you have at the ready, notebook open to a fresh page and there’s still five minutes to go.

“Good afternoon,” Rafe says your name pleasantly. Maybe if he goes with a softer approach today, you’ll reply. “Do you have an extra pen I can borrow?”

You have the spinning chair angled away from him as he watches your shoulders rise and then deflate down with a hard exhale. He bites at his inner check, simultaneously loving and hating how clearly you ignore him, how you get under his skin so quickly with little to no effort. He swears if you weren’t in this class, he would just skip it half the time.

The older professor drones on in a deep and gruff voice, Rafe paying more attention to the little loops of your e’s and a’s as you note take. Toward the end of the lecture, the old man makes an announcement.

“Alright. Turn to the person next to you and make a list of ethical and unethical marketing strategies in any field. That could be retail, medical, real estate, whatever. You have twenty minutes.”

You pivot in your chair to the right, away from Rafe but he snatches at your armrest and pulls. Chairs bump together with a muted clunk. Those pretty, long lashes frame your wide eyes perfectly, a tiny hiccup bubbling at your throat.

“You’re my partner,” He grumbles lowly.

Students sat close by turn their heads and watch the small commotion, a growing interest that’s been spreading in the lecture hall the last week or so. Rafe doesn’t give a shit, a possessiveness he’s only felt with you worming at his chest. His focus stays steady as you wilt under his gaze, a soft, okay, leaving your pink lips.

Pleased, he lets go and maneuvers his foot underneath the pegs, hooking his ankle to keep you rooted there. Your knee bumps with his as you shift around, flinching back and shifting again. It's cute how nervous you are. Delicate fingers clicking the pen multiple times before drawing a line down the middle of your paper, marking an ethical and unethical side.  

“Let’s start with the unethical. You should be good at that, right?” You ask with honey on your tongue.

“Yeah, angel, we can start with that.” Rafe rakes his eyes over the outfit you have on today. Jeans that mold your ass and a cropped sweater that edges up as you lean over to write. “How about distraction?”

Beginning to write the line of the d, you stop. Eyebrows creased with a twisting lip as you keep your eyes down. “Like spam ads in social media?”

Rafe hums in agreement. Waits until you're done writing to add, “Ignorance.” Without questioning him this time, you press the pen to paper. Leaning in, he pretends to look at the paper when he breathes out, “Teasing me in those jeans.”

You reel back, those beautiful eyes full of fire and directly on him. You don’t miss a beat. “Forcible consumption.”

He grunts out a laugh. “Doesn’t matter when the customer is so satisfied.”

“Inappropriate, false claims,” Your voice squeaks with the amount of willpower it takes for you not to scream at him.

“Go on a date with me.” Though he outlines the way your lips shape words, his voice overlaps yours towards the end. Rafe drops his elbows to his knees, invading more of your space. A slick smile forms as heat rushes south from the expressive fear rippling on your face.

“No.” Your voice drops a notch, clipped and final as you scoot back. Long fingers curl on the bottom edge of the seat and slide you close, his right thigh slotting between yours.

“You know I only like hearing that when my dick’s in you.”  

The sharp inhale accentuates the lines of your throat, and chest heaving up and Rafe wants to experience all your gasps and sounds when you’re completely naked. Memorize all the tics you have from responding to his touch, his mere presence.

Dr. Thomas breaks the tension as his voice rings out. “Once you’re done you can turn it in and go. Have a good day.”

Rafe snatches the paper before you can and flourishes your names up in the corner. Standing and slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he looks down his nose at you.

“Friday. Seven sharp.” With your frozen posture, it looks like you're invisibly tied to the chair. The mental image of you at his mercy has his dick pressing at the zipper. “Don’t be late, baby.”

Rafe ensures his voice is loud enough for the onlooking sorority girls to hear, letting the rumor mill take care of the rest. By the end of the week, everyone will know you’re off-limits. Even if you aren’t aware of it.

With a bounce in his step, Rafe turns in your work together. With only one side filled in.

🌙

When Friday evening arrives, Rafe is walking up your apartment steps right at 6:58pm. Pushing the buzzer, he adjusts his shoulders as he clears his throat. He waits for another moment before he presses the buzzer again, longer this time.

Pulling out his phone, he texts you. I’m here.

Cracking his neck to release growing tension, Rafe waits awhile more. Having expected your reluctance. He could give you time. Demonstrate how he could be patient, reasonable, kind even The past interactions with you perhaps weren’t ideal but each time you had managed to catch him off guard and derail his thoughts or plans. This time he’ll be better, he can be understanding and be good. Wants to spend time with you, pick inside of that witty mind of yours before he bends you over the closest flat surface.

His phone vibrates. I’m not.

Rage surges up his chest. “Fuck!”

Rafe spins and punches the brick wall. A welcome pain zinging up his hand to his foreman, another grunt as blood smears his knuckles. Jogging down the short stairs, he steps off to the side into an alleyway. With stiff fingers, he produces a small baggie from his pocket.

Coming into the date, being fully sober was a top priority. Not an ounce of smoke, powder, or drink had entered his bloodstream today. He wanted to be emersed in your presence, knew if he found the right spot inside that stubborn head of yours, he could be high on you alone. Now, he tilts the bag onto the juncture of his thumb and forefinger, cocaine building into a tiny lump. Sniffing sharply, he lets out a loud breath as the bitterness sticks to the back of his throat.

Scouring through social media, rage bubbles in his blood when none of your friends have posted anything, no pictures of you which means he has no idea where you are. Taking off down the street, the best course of action is to scope out the closest bars.

Only, you’re nowhere to be found. And after hours of looking for you and getting kicked out of a bar, he returns home with an odd sense of betrayal inside him.

From Friday night to Sunday morning, Rafe binges. Alcohol, weed, coke, girls, anything he can get his hands on or nose in. It masks the stinging rejection that flurries down his bones, raging with the music and causing fights. He lets out all those self-destructive impulses he struggles to hold in, and lets them have free rein throughout the weekend. Tells himself he’ll be better come Monday. For himself, for his dad. For you.

It's a struggle to wake up early Monday morning. But he’s determined to steer you towards his path once more, show you how easy or hard he can be, depending on how you play. This is a game of cat and mouse, of fish and hook. He intends to win.

Oh, but do you play dirty.

Early to lecture, Rafe reclines back in his seat as he fiddles with a pen that he’s stolen from you before. With the toxic anger seeped out of him from the weekend, he’s momentarily stunned to see you waltz in with his grey zip-up on. Lust and anger war in him the longer he stares at you. The zip-up is baggy on your frame, black leggings complete the comfy vibe you have going on. Damn you for doing the bare minimum and still getting a reaction out of his cock that twitches with delight from the thought of you covered in his scent. It doesn’t matter if no one else knows that’s his sweater, the sight makes him want to worship and devastate you all at once.

Your nose is turned up to him as you primly sit, not a glance at him. Rafe takes it with stride, only taking peaks at you from the corner of his eye. He mirrors your attitude and shows no regard for you, no brushing of hands or teasing whispers. And it’s so goddamn funny how you pick up on this, on him ignoring you that for the first time, you glance at him. If he knew ignoring you would’ve gotten your attention, he would’ve done it long ago.

He keeps a straight face, feigning interest in what Professor Thomas is lecturing as he feels the nervous energy wafting off you. Clocking the bouncing of your leg, the touching of your face, and curtaining your hair to hide the side of your face. He’s never been one to recognize emotions well, a feature of his mechanism he’s detested since childhood. With you though, it’s like reading a language he’s never heard or seen before but it’s instinctual, the want to learn. The sense that it was created just for him.   

When the professor declares class over, he feels your hesitation. Like you're anticipating him to say something, to look at you. Casually, he puts his blank notebook away as you finally get up and begin your quick escape until you’re stopped. Not by him this time.

The professor waves you over to the desk, calling out your last name. Rafe watches as you skip in your steps with nerves as you head over. The exchange is too quiet to hear, the line of your mouth steadily curving down the longer you stand there. After a small nod from you, you exit the room. With languid steps, he follows, keeping enough distance so you don’t catch him.  

Dr. Thomas’s office resides in the building across the courtyard, third floor, conveniently tucked in a corner and by the stairs. Blunt teeth graze at his cuticles as he flattens his back against the wall, listening to your conversation from the cracked door. He’s a bit late due to taking the stairs.

“…From a reliable and respected source. I do take this very seriously.”

“B-but I haven’t!” There’s a panicked edge to your tone. “Sir, I would never plagiarize on my work. And I have no record of it –”

“Yes, well there is a first time for everything.”

“Sir, I swear on it. I would never cheat or steal someone’s work.”

“Be that as it may, I am going to let you off with a warning. Only one. Should there be a next time, I, unfortunately, must inform the dean and have him handle it from there.” A sigh from the professor. “I do have to say, I see how bright of a student you are and would hate for this to be a dark mark on your academics. This could affect your academic career, and your scholarships if you have any. Be wise in your decision-making.”

Your voice is wobbly. “Yes, sir.”

Rafe slips through the stairs door when he hears shuffling. His heart picking up speed since the confrontation, an odd weight in his stomach as he imagines your face at the news. Someone had reported you for plagiarizing your recent paper.

He didn’t realize how much of a hard-ass Dr. Thomas was and wonders if he should’ve chosen a different professor of yours.

Propped up against the brick wall, he fidgets with his gold ring. Twisting it this way and that around his finger. A couple more moments later and you’re coming out the same doors he did not long ago. Your momentum from pushing the door open generates a breeze through your hair and oh, how he wishes to bury himself in those tangles.

“Where were you?”

You whirl around on the spot, startled with a small yelp. Once you register its Rafe, the center of your face scrunches up. You open your mouth for a moment, and it seems like you change your words at the last moment. “I don’t have time to deal with you. I have bigger problems.”

Rotating on your heel, you make it two steps before he’s calling out again. “Maybe, I can help with those problems.” His steps are quiet as he slinks up behind you. “I am a very…respectable person, ya know.”

You stop dead in your tracks.

This time, Rafe’s ready for your hand when you raise it. Fingers squeeze around your fragile wrist, pulling your body close. Baring your teeth like a feral cat, your neck angled back as you struggle to gain space.

“You.” You seethe. “It was you. I should’ve fucking known.” Your other hand hits his shoulder, Rafe’s hand snapping up to restrain it. Grinding your teeth, a closed mouth squeal lets out. Fumbling with your squirming limbs, Rafe drags you to a thick oak tree. It’s only when strands of hair are sticking to your face that he sees the tears cascading down. Your voice cracks as you ask, “Why?”

A pang hits the middle of his chest, offering up his own sneer to you. Your mascara is clumping with your fat tears, your eyes reddening and still, you look so pretty. Bringing up both hands encased with your wrists, a thumb swipes the apple of your cheek catching the hot liquid on his skin, letting it soak into him.

“You know why,” Rafe answers softly.

A distressed whine climbs up your throat. “Rafe, please, just stop this – whatever it is. I don’t understand what you want from me.”

“Let me make it clear then.” Softening his hands, he strokes at your damp skin. “You. Just you.”

You scoff. “I’m not just going to be with you, Rafe. You’ve hurt me, you’ve r-” you inhale. “You’ve hurt me, a lot.”

“Don’t make me hurt you.”

“Do you know how crazy you sound? Like a freaking maniac!” You divert your attention across the courtyard. “Couldn’t you find any willing girls to get your dick wet?”

“I have.” Rafe deadpans. “Yours is just the best I’ve had. And I always get the best of what I want.”

Your shoulders slump, the tone of your voice strained yet comes out strong. “I’m not going to roll over and be your bitch to use. I don’t have to do anything for you.”

“You sure about that?” Rafe can’t help but smile, it’s not his fault that you make him laugh and his cock hard. “Cause I’m pretty sure that my dad plays golf with the dean once a month. Be such a shame for a smart mind like yours to go to waste.” Eyes glossy with your lower lip wobbling, he tuts at the fresh flood of waterworks. “You just had to make it so difficult for yourself, angel. Twisted my hand right up.”

Contrary to what you must believe, he didn’t want to go down this road with you. Wanted to give you some resemble of a choice in this. He hadn’t expected you to not care about his potential exploit of your nude photo or the bravado you showed the next day after his midnight delight. Everything you do is so unexpected for such an unassuming girl. This was the natural next step to take.

He can practically hear the gears turning behind your forehead. Quiet with shallow breaths, nose beginning to drip as well. Rafe works on his patience as you come to terms with all of this, and begins to softly rock you, wanting to soothe that wrinkled line by your eyebrow.

Abruptly, you’re burrowing your head into his chest. Weeping into his shirt, soaking it with tears and snot. Your fists gather up the fabric, pulling and pushing but you’re not struggling, only letting out emotion. Smiling, he wraps his arms around you comfortingly. This cry was different, (he gets excited knowing he could already categorize your cries), this was a grieving cry as you surrender.

He hushes you gently as you mumble. “I hate you.”

Rafe doesn’t bother responding to that. Dipping his head down to the shell of your ear. Lips grazing the thin skin. “You ready for that date now?”

#rafe cameron fics #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #smut #fanfiction #outer banks #obx #dark fic #series #outer banks fic #outer banks smut #dark!rafe cameron

[360iris]

tu promesa de adorarme | marc spector x reader (ft. steven grant)

This is just a good, fluffy time! The title is a line from the song ‘La Mentira’ by Luis Miguel, and translates to “your promise to worship me” —Although the song is a little sadder than this is 🫢🤭 Thank you for requesting, @welcometostayingawake !!

When he enters the apartment it is blanketed in a blue tinted darkness. The blinds and curtains closed tightly, not allowing even an ounce of light into the space.

The door clicks shut behind him, his keys clinking sharply as they slide into the middle of the ceramic bowl placed by the entrance for easy access.

The old wooden floor boards creak under the weight of his shoes as he proceeds further, making a perfect beeline towards the bed even before his eyes can adjust to the lack of lighting. But sure enough, you were still where he’d left you this morning— one lump, protruding from underneath the dark blue duvet.

Crouching down beside the mattress, Marc extends a hand out to rest atop of your head, the only part of you that poked out from your cotton cocoon.

“We’re home.” He speaks softly, not aiming to alarm you in any way. Only, as he goes to massage your scalp at the root, he’s met with a handful of damp hair.

It’s wholly disconcerting, causing him to turn the bedside lamp on in a prompt, hurried motion. His knuckles bumping against the metal stand a few times before he finally manages to turn it on.

Awarded a warm cone of visibility, he pulls the blanket back to find that you’re sleeping.

He finds you curled into yourself. Dressed in only a white bathrobe with the cheap heating pad you neglected to upgrade from even when you’d had the funds, pressed to your stomach.

“Well that was a bit of a fright, wasn’t it?” Steven remarks, releasing a heavy sigh. Shoulders relaxing as he watches you breathe evenly as you slept, finding the furrowed tilt in your brows quite funny.

“She’s going to be the death of me.“ Marc nods, rolling his eyes from pure exasperation. Running a hand through his hair before adjusting the blanket he’d all but flung off your form in his brief state of panic.

“Oh, I’d hope not. I’d like to live a smidge longer, if that’s okay with you.” Steven remarks pointedly, earning himself a sigh of quiet indignation in response.

Patting down the material, Marc reaches up to smooth your hair again with tentative fingers.

Coaxing you awake as he massaged the strands at the nape of your neck, working his hand through as one would pet a kitten. And distantly, he thinks to himself that you’re not all that far off from being one— especially during weeks like this.

When your eyes finally flutter open, he can’t help but smile at the way you squint from the light.

“We’re home.” He repeats, even though the first time he’d announced himself it’d fallen on deaf ears.

“Hi.” Is all he can get out of you as you’re drawn into a laborious yawn. Though he finds you’re still willing to nuzzle your cheek into his open palm when he moves to cup it.

“Hi.” He greets back unnecessarily, lips pulled into a fond smile. “Do you want to tell me why your hair’s wet?”

“Was cramping really bad all day, thought an epsom salt bath would help.” Your voice is still thick from sleep and he watches amusedly as you attempt to force yourself into full alertness in vain.

”And did it?” He asks, unable to keep himself from pressing a kiss against your forehead.

“Not really.” Comes out a surprised giggle when he dips his head down to kiss your throat. “It’s why I couldn’t bother to dry my hair, or find a change of clothes.”

“Come on, let’s get you sorted out then.” He speaks into the hair at the back your left ear. All but folding himself over you, but you can’t find the wherewithal to care because he’s warm and smells nice, as always.

“No.” You detest weakly, allowing your fingers to tangle in his dark curls. “My stomach hurts and I bleed through every pair of pajama pants I put on. I’m over it! I just want the week to be over with. This is miserable, Marc.”

“Yes.” He mimics, drawing out the vowel to mirror your theatrics. His voice reverberating against your neck as he spoke. “And I didn’t say you had to do it all. I’ll set up the dressing area, have the space heater get it warm so you can dry off. I can’t have you laying around the apartment like a damp rat.”

The laugh that rushes past your lips is abrupt, your hands freeing themselves so you could push him back. “You asshole! Did you really just call me a rat? Really, Marc?” And he’s already wearing a wide grin, like he was expecting this exact reaction.

“Okay, yeah. I love it when my life partner calls me a rodent to my face. It’s not like my skeletal lining is in the process of shedding while my hormones literally rewrite my DNA—”

“Uh, you know. I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know a lot about periods, but I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.” He interrupts, squinting his eyes as he shakes his head. “At all.”

“Whatever!” You yell mid laugh, trying to force yourself to look severe. “You need to stop making me laugh, it’s messing with my cerebral cortex.”

“That’s your brain. Not your stomach, Einstein.” He snorts, rolling his eyes as he moves to stand, giving your thigh a quick pat. “Anyway let’s get to shaking, Ratatouille.”

“His name’s Remy, Einstein!”

“Whatever.” He remarks, heading off, already leaving you better than you were.

#they’re dumb— I love them lol #marc spector fluff #marc spector x reader #moon knight system x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight blurb #moon knight drabble #moon knight fluff

[muselin]

Drip - SKZ Hyunjin & Felix

What: very behind schedule entry for @skzseasons Hot Dom Summer. Smuttttttttt, kiddies go home. Wax play, sensation play, pre-negotiated scene, dungeon, restraints, aftercare. Reader gender not specified. Reader has a vagina.

Who: Dom!Hyunjin x sub!reader x Softdom!Felix

Word count: 4.6k

______________________________

Hyunjin fixed up the collar around your neck then leaned over and kissed the clasp.

"You ready?"

The shiver that ran through you at the sound of the click left you without words, your breath dying in your throat and you could only nod.

Hyunjin smiled and stroked under your chin like he would a kitten, your eyes meeting in the mirror and his scanning you up and down.

"You know I'm fine with non-verbals but others may need words."

"Yes..." Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

He reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

"Let's go."

______________________________

"You'll be very good for me tonight, won't you?"

Hyunjin's whispers in your ear made you clench your thighs together but his hand sliding in between them put a stop to it. You looked up nervously, checking whether the taxi driver could see you in the rear view.

"How embarrassing for you that I have to carry around extra pairs of panties for you since you ruin so many before I even touch you."

You could hear the smile in his whisper right by your ear. He grabbed your thigh, reminding you that it was not for you to decide what his hands had access to. Your scene had already started and you could not disobey Hyunjin without incurring a punishment. He didn't even have to say it to you. His expression hadn't changed and he hadn't said a word but the small amount of extra pressure from his fingertips made goosebumps rise over your skin.

____________________________

"Good to see you again, Hyunjin!"

"You too, nice to come out again!"

Hyunjin was being greeted enthusiastically by leather-clad hostesses and patrons as he guided you into the club. He allowed you a lot of freedom and you could go and speak to anyone you wanted, as long as they didn't get grabby with you and asked permission from Hyunjin before playing with you. Tonight, however, your mind was already so fuzzy that you simply clung to Hyunjin's arm and let the conversations, pleasantries and sounds of music and laughter just wash over you without really listening to any of it.

"Where do you want to play tonight, baby?"

Hyunjin's voice pulled you out of your blissfully nebulous state of consciousness.

"Hmm?"

"Baby?"

It took you two beats too long to meet Hyunjin's curious gaze and he realised you were swimming already. He reached over and cupped your jaw in one hand gently, keeping your focus on him, and laced the fingers of his other hand through yours. A gesture of equals.

"Shall I decide for you," he asked sweetly.

"Yeah. It's a little hard to think right now, I just want you to tell me what to do." Your voice came out weightless and airy. Hyunjin moved his fingers from your jaw to caress your cheek as a smile spread over his pretty features.

"I'll make sure you have a lot of fun tonight then."

______________________________

The drop in temperature raised goosebumps over your skin and you instinctively reached up to rub over your bare arms. Hyunjin guided you to a new part of the club you had not seen before. He led you down a set of stairs and you noted several couples already getting hot and heavy. With one of them, a male who was obviously the sub had his leash slung over a pipe in the wall, effectively half-hanging him as his dominant forced him to watch the couple next to him who were engaging in enthusiastic oral. The thought of Hyunjin hanging you by your leash like that and forcing you to watch someone else being used had strange shivers creeping over you that had nothing to do with the cold.

All too soon the chill became sharp once more as Hyunjin led you further down still and a trickle of fear started to take root in your gut. The lights were getting dimmer and dimmer, the walls more and more bare, the doors fewer, and instead of wood they were made of iron bars.

Hyunjin gave slack to your leash and let you go down the last set of steps alone. You continued to put one foot in front of the other hesitantly and when you reached the bottom, you heard the sound of a heavy metal gate shutting and a key clicking into a lock.

"Hyunjin?"

Your voice was a half-whisper as you looked up at him quizzically. The sole fluorescent light above cast harsh shadows over his face, obscuring his eyes and he ran his hand through his long hair, not giving any indication that he'd heard you.

You'd talked about this, that it would be a surprise so it would feel more real. Your safeword flashed in your mind, an impulse, but despite the unease and the unknown, you knew Hyunjin would let no harm come to you. Surely? He must know you were scared, he must know you needed some kind of sign of reassurance from him, a smile, anything. Yet he gave none and his hold on your leash became harsh, the leather creaking slightly at being pulled so taut.

"H-Hyun...."

Your pulse hammered in your throat, cutting off his name halfway. He only stood at the bottom of the stairs, two feet away from you, giving no orders, no guidance.

The noise of one of the iron gates opening to your left made you shriek and jump out of your skin.

"Hyunjin!!"

Only then did Hyunjin's face split into a smile.

Fear.

He loved your fear. He got off on it but it took so much to get him to give you a scene that incorporated it, to believe you when you said you'd be happy to do it and that you wanted to please him. You'd let him plan it out himself and asked him to keep the details a surprise, giving him your hard limits and trusting him with the rest.

A shorter, boyish male with blonde hair stepped out of the opened gate, smiling. Something about his eyes unnerved you but his aura attracted you.

"This is Felix," Hyunjin said simply, and if you weren't afraid before, what he did next made you whine pathetically and shake in your place.

Hyunjin tossed the end of your leash to Felix who immediately pulled it taut. The unfamiliar way that your collar pulled around your neck had you gripping onto it.

"Welcome to our new dungeon, lovely. Come with me," Felix said and the sound of his baritone voice had your knuckles turning white around your leash.

Hyunjin stood idly, watching the exchange and when Felix tugged on your leash you did not move.

"You will listen to Felix like you listen to me," Hyunjin said quietly, but without the usual affectionate undercurrent to his tone and there was no doubt in your mind this was the scene he'd orchestrated. Yet knowing that didn't help you overcome the fear coursing coldly through your veins and you remained rooted in place.

When Felix saw that you were resisting, he stepped closer to you, not missing the way you flinched. He got into your space and raised both hands to cradle your face in a surprisingly intimate gesture.

"I won't hurt you, baby. I'll be good to you."

The shred of affection was like a bandage over a stab wound but had your knees going weak regardless, and you found yourself huddling against Felix, seeking out his warmth and he allowed it, letting you trail your hands over his lean frame over his clothes.

"Soon enough you'll be begging me to hurt you anyway," he whispered to you as he met your eyes and you shivered, your core clenching reflexively. You looked back at Hyunjin who seemed perfectly at ease and had stepped closer to you. You felt his large hands applying pressure to your hips, guiding you to follow Felix who was moving backwards into the gated room, and you did not resist further. Hyunjin's ease and Felix's soft touch had warmth rolling through you, countering the chill of the basement level you were in.

The room was effectively a cell, bare except for a table full of lit candles which were the only source of light, and some sort of contraption in the corner. You swallowed thickly, your emotions a roller coaster as the fear raised its head again.

"Hyunjin told me how responsive you can be," Felix's voice grated in your ear as he pulled you to him, Hyunjin's hands falling away from you. The shorter male buried his fingers underneath your collar, cradling your neck as he pulled you in until his lips were a hair's breadth away from yours. "Are you cold," he whispered. You only nodded. Felix's eyes dropped to your lips, his long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks and you picked up on his intention, your lips parting slightly.

The air felt thick between you and him and you were so aware of his fingers on your neck, his other hand still wrapped in your leash. Soft lips met yours and you couldn't help the moan that ripped from your throat. Fear, anticipation and arousal were mixing all around the edges of your consciousness and making it impossible to think. You felt reduced to your base impulses and Felix was satisfying one of them, practically purring against your lips. His tongue slipped between them, coaxing yours to curl around his and your hands soon found themselves clutching at his shirt.

The sound of something mechanical broke you away from the oasis of Felix's kiss and you turned to see Hyunjin wheeling forward the contraption you had glimpsed upon coming into the room.

"This is a wooden cross," he explained matter-of-factly. You had seen some before but they were usually upright whereas this one was horizontal, reminding you vaguely of a physician's table. "Why don't you rest on it and we'll take care of you, babe?"

The light from the candles was enough for you to see that Hyunjin was already tenting in his jeans and that only excited you more. Felix gave slack to your leash which was enough for you to sit on the cross, only then noticing the metal cuffs at the top of it. Felix took your right hand and Hyunjin your left, each pulling them our to straighten your arms and you laid down on the cross as they secured the cuffs around your wrists. The clinking of metal, the darkness and chill had you on high alert but your breathing was deep and even, your mind primed to follow orders which was the very thing Hyunjin tested.

"Snap your fingers," he commanded quietly and you snapped. "One is for?"

"Keep going," you answered.

"Two are for?"

"Stop."

"Good."

Felix sat by your head, his fingers threading through your hair like he was stroking a frightened animal. "Still cold?"

"Mmhmm," you nodded, looking up at him pleadingly.

Instead of meeting your eyes Felix met Hyunjin's, both of them smiling and making you feel left out of the wordless conversation. They swapped your leash between themselves, Hyunjin now holding it and sitting by your head while Felix went over to the table and picked up one of the candles. There was a mix of red, black and white candles which you had failed to notice before. The moving flame made long shadows dance on the walls and your eyes lost focus, something pulling you under to where the only thing you could focus on were Hyunjin's fingers on your arm.

Felix noticed your unfocused gaze and turned to Hyunjin.

"Should I wait?"

Hyunjin shook his head. "It's not a problem."

Felix then loomed over you with the red candle, tilting it in its holder and dripping some of the melted wax over your sternum.

The scream that left your lips bounced off the concrete walls, echoing down the hall. Hyunjin only laughed, leaning over your ear.

"This was originally built as a bomb shelter. No one can hear you scream down here, pet."

The sting and heat of the wax were a jolt to your senses, not desired but not unwelcome. The thought of not being able to get out set you alight and you strained against the cuffs at your wrists, helpless noises filling the room. Hyunjin stood up and moved to sit over your knees, immobilising you further and making something primal in you jump at the feeling.

Felix tilted the candle again, dripping two symmetrical lines of wax at the underside of your ribs. You yelped, your back arching off the cross but otherwise immobilised.

"Uungh..."

Hyunjin's grunt made you go still and you realised that he'd ground his erection over your thighs as you squirmed.

"Feeling a bit warmer now," Felix chuckled, drawing your attention back to him.

Your brain was surely malfunctioning because the fear only kept turning into want, your underwear sticking to you despite your squirming against Hyunjin.

"The candles have different melting points. The black ones are low temperature, the red slightly higher, and the white are not specialised candles, they burn hot." Felix explained as he trailed his fingers over the row of candles. "Which ones shall we play with next, hmm?"

You instinctively looked at Hyunjin after Felix's question, looking for guidance or permission, something, but were instead met with the sight of Hyunjin unzipping his jeans and taking out his cock. His eyes were fixed to the lines of wax Felix had dripped over your ribs.

"Black," you croaked, amd Felix smiled sweetly at you, picking up a black candle and making his way to sit by your head. He held the candle close to illuminate your face and bent down to meet your lips upside down. You sighed against him, needing his sweet disposition to counter the fear still drumming in your chest.

You felt movement on top of your legs and released Felix's lips to look down. Hyunjin had eased his jeans down his hips and was now rutting rhythmically in between your clenched thighs, his full bottom lip pinched between his teeth as he followed Felix's movements.

Then you understood. This whole setup was not for you. It was for Hyunjiin.

"Do it, drip it," Hyunjin ordered Felix impatiently and the shorter male aimed and then tipped the candle over your nipples. It was not as hot as the red wax but still made you jerk. You sucked in sharp breaths as the black wax was dripped in lines across your chest, the heat fizzling over your sensitive spots and making you clench your thighs harder. You heard Hyunjin groan at the increased pressure on his dick. He stood up briefly to spread your legs apart and let them rest to the sides of the cross. Then he sat in between your legs, his cock still hard and jutting forward, and he rubbed it over your clothed entrance.

"I think my baby really likes this," he purred. "You're getting wetter, I can feel it. I want to see it on your thighs," he said as he looked at Felix who was stroking your hair again.

"What shall it be next then," he asked you.

"Red."

You felt nervous about being stung hotter, but from the way Hyunjin was biting his lips you had a feeling that he would get more pleasure out of making you squirm harder and you were still doing this to please him.

Felix's fingers left your hair as he stood up to swap the candles, and in the meantime Hyunjin manoeuvred your legs up and together to take off your underwear. His hands ghosted over the insides of your thighs as he set your legs back down, settling in between them and letting his cock graze against your slippery entrance. The moan that came from you echoed in a particular way, more so as Felix sat by your head again, trailing one hand over your restrained arms. You were spread out for them, your body on display, and things became blurry.

Hyunjin's tongue caught between his teeth at the sounds you made and he slid forward on the cross, the head of his cock nestling in between your folds. A tilt of your hips would be all it took to have him slip inside you but you weren't told you could.

"I want to feel you clenching on my cock while Felix drips this on you." The smile on Hyunjin's face and his dark eyes made you shiver, as did his tone when he turned to Felix and ordered him: "Drip."

This time you didn't shriek. The dulled edges of your consciousness, Felix's soothing touch over your arms and in your hair, Hyunjin's sinful expression as he held his breath waiting to see the red drips over your skin - it was all too consuming and you started anticipating too. When the wax hit your soft inner thigh, you only sighed in relief.

Hyunjin reached and trailed his fingers over the hardening wax, motioning to Felix to keep going. Felix dripped it over your other thigh and Hyunjin scooted forward, his cock now finally entering you.

"Don't stop," Hyunjin rasped and you realised he was talking to Felix, eyes still glued to you.

All your attention had been focused on where the hot sting would come, your nerve endings on high alert, and the feeling of Hyunjin stuffing himself inside your cunt after waiting for so long was overwhelming. Your lips opened in a silent scream and Felix's free hand clasped over your restrained wrist reflexively to keep you from moving or hurting yourself.

Hyunjin tested you, thrusting shallowly several times and the heightened sensation of his length dragging against your walls made you whine. It felt too much, too good, and when Felix started dripping higher up your thigh you started begging.

"Please, please fuck me! Deeper, please!"

Hyunjin smirked and harshly slapped the inside of your thigh that Felix had just painted red.

"Much too early to be begging me. Maybe if you keep being a good toy for me and don't dare to ruin my fun, I'll let you cum. Felix, I want the white."

Your sharp inhale did not not go unnoticed but you didn't make any move to snap your fingers at all, and Felix leaned over you, tilting your chin up gently for you to look at him.

"I hope you'll be good for me too, I have a little idea of how to make your pussy really pretty. I'll draw a nice white ring around it, and we'll top your clit off with a little red, how does that sound?"

His voice was too sweet. He could have said anything right then and it would have sounded like a good idea to you. You found yourself staring up at him desperately and nodding. You lost a bit of time where Felix must have switched the candles because all your mind registered was Hyunjin's warmth between your legs, his cock teasing you with shallow strokes that were maddeningly insufficient. You clenched hard around his cock, a never-ending stream of whimpers flowing from your mouth.

The warmth gave way to a chill of anticipation when you felt Felix sit by your head again but this time he reached to hold the side of your jaw in his free hand in a tight grip, fixing your head in one position so you only looked at Hyunjin. The taller man licked his lips, eyes locked onto the visual of his cock entering you and he nodded to Felix.

The white wax dripped dangerously close to your sensitive folds and you moaned loudly, not from pain or heat but from relief at finally having the stimulation you craved. Your nerves were buzzing, eager to feel more, and your squirmed against your restraints, causing Hyunjin to ram his cock into you to put you in your place.

"Fuck!! Please, please, keep giving it to me," you begged him but you quickly felt a hand lock around your jaw. You looked up at Felix who pursed his lips and tutted at you.

"You heard when he said he wants to have his fun with you. You don't want to make him mad, or I will drip the white further up." His honey tone was sing-song but the threat was clear and goosebumps rose up your arms.

Hyunjin continued stuffing your pussy and any thoughts lingering around evaporated from your brain. The pressure and drag of his length inside you was delicious and you went pliant beneath the two men, a stream of thin and airy moans echoing incessantly.

Felix looked up at Hyunjin with some concern, thinking you might have reached your limit.

"Should I keep going?"

Hyunjin bit his lip and canted his hips in a deep thrust, making you moan louder.

"Absolutely. Drip it."

Your tone grew more desperate at hearing that and Felix's deep chuckle tickled your ear. He tilted the candle and more white drips fell and hardened on the sensitive skin just outside your folds. You clenched hard around Hyunjin and he swore, slowing down inside you but still filling you up to the brim. He reached to massage your clit with his thumb and you clenched even harder, your walls squeezing out any but of friction he could offer to get you closer to your orgasm.

Felix released your jaw and trailed his fingers to one of your nipples, pinching and rubbing it as he dripped more of the heated wax over you. Your breaths quickened as you felt yourself getting closer to the precipice, the sensations becoming overwhelming as they came from so many places on your body. You tried to meet Hyunjin's thrusts halfway and felt him lean his weight on you.

"Remember what I said, you little whore," Hyunjin spat at you with a grin even as his fingers increased their tempo on your clit. "If you try to rush me, you won't get to cum at all."

"Please, no! I need to cum, ohhh fuck..."

You mewled as you took deep breaths, trying to calm your hammering heart but it was no use when Felix continued dripping the liquid heat on your skin, working to complete the white circle around your pussy. He left it slightly unfinished, skipping your perineum, and put the candle to the side in favour of sucking the nipple he had not played with yet between his lips.

Your back arched under the two as they continued stimulating you, your hands clenched hard in your restraints. Finally, Felix swapped the candles again and sat by your head, tilting your chin up to look at him.

"Are you ready?"

You nodded furiously, walls clenching and releasing rhythmically around Hyunjin's cock pistoning inside you. Hyunjin's own breathing was unsteady, he was close and was rutting into you faster and harder now.

"I need to get this just right, so I'll need you to slow down," Felix instructed and for the first time, you felt as if Felix was actually the one in charge of this scene. Hyunjin reluctantly slowed down to a stop, fully hilting inside you and forcing you to feel his entire length and girth in your oversensitised cunt. You got louder, almost screaming with how close you were, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes from the intensity.

"So fucking pretty," Felix's deep voice rasped near your ear as the red candle in his hand tipped over and a thick drop of wax landed on your clit. The lick of heat right on your bundle of nerves made you scream, and the moment it had fallen, Hyunjin pulled back to ram into you fast and hard.

"Cum on my cock," he ordered you breathlessly, and you nearly sobbed in relief because your walls had started spasming already anyway. The liquid heat felt as if it covered you from the outside and filled you up from inside, a heavy blanket of pleasure and warmth cocooning you as you careened off the edge. Hyunjin was spilling inside you and it only added to your pleasure, his warmth adding to the already too-hot feeling enveloping your senses.

When your walls stopped fluttering, you felt his cock pull out from you, only to be replaced by another. Somewhat differently shaped, and a different set of hands attached to your hips. You looked up to see Felix fucking into you, pretty lips parted and you moaned at how hard he felt inside you. Hyunjin's cum squelched lewdly as his accomplice fucked it into you.

There was a jerkiness to his movements now where he had always been gentle and precise before, and it told you that Felix wouldn't last long, the tell-tale twitching of his cock inside you making you clench around him.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," Felix shut his eyes tightly, grabbing at your hips harder. He pulled out, stroking himself quickly and warm droplets hit your skin. Felix's cum cut a line across the red wax blooming over your clit, making his little masterpiece even more intricate.

"You look so beautiful covered in my cum like that," Felix sighed as he milked himself over you skin, nudging your folds with the swollen head of his cock.

"Good thing I'm here to capture it all," Hyunjin's smile could be heard in his voice and you heard the clicking of a shutter, knowing he was taking photos of you now. You looked up and followed him as he aimed to capture you from different angles, and your glassy eyes and the mess over your body were immortalised on film.

You registered movement around you as the two cleaned themselves up and tidied up, then turned their attention to you. Felix used a flat tool to remove the wax from your body, teasingly taking more time and gliding over your nipples and clit a few more times than needed. Hyunjin followed with oil to clean off anything remaining, strong hands massaging into your muscles which you had overworked from tensing.

"Can I have a kiss?"

You looked up, hearing Felix's question, but he was looking at Hyunjin.

"I suppose that would be okay, you did just help me fulfill a top-spot fantasy of ours."

Your eyes fluttered closed automatically when you felt Felix's fingers cup your jaw and his lips covered yours, gentle and butterfly-soft. You groaned when he licked at your bottom lip, asking for your personal permission this time, and you let him. His tongue met yours, caressing and exploring as you faintly heard the restraints around your hands being unlocked and released.

"Feeling more awake now?"

"Quite the opposite," you hummed blissfully, stretching as if just waking up from a dream.

"It's time to get up, baby," Hyunjin's voice had slipped back into his usual gentle tone and you felt him take your hands to help you sit up, handing you your clothes. You dressed on autopilot, a dreamy smile playing on your face and you automatically took your place by Hyunjin's side, linking hands.

"I'll walk you back upstairs," Felix offered and you smiled at him. The two men carried the equipment in comfortable silence up the stairs until you ended up back in the atrium of the club.

"Do you want to stay for drinks?"

Hyunjin kissed you knuckles with the question.

"I think I'm done for the night, but I do want to know when we can play with Felix again," you giggled cheekily.

"You liked Felix that much, huh? Careful, I might get a little jealous," Hyunjin teased, tugging on your collar.

"Call me any time, you have my number," Felix elbowed Hyunjin playfully, then waved goodbye as he winked at you.

__________________________________

In the comfortable darkness at the back of the cab home, yours and Hyunjin's faces were illuminated by the preview screen of his camera.

"We really made you into a masterpiece, babe," Hyunjin whispered to you, placing a kiss just beneath your ear.

#skz smut #!s week #skz seasons #stray kids smut #hyunjin smut #felix smut #skz hyunjin smut #skz felix smut #skz hard hours #stray kids hard hours #muselin

[maya-chirps]

[ID: a screenshot of a reblog by @/fleurtygurl. It reads: "Omg instant follow! I need more Philippines facts in my life!!! 😭😭😭

If you have any facts about filipino myths? That would be amazing. But also I will literally eat up everything you post!

I'm in desperate need of reconnecting with my roots, but I've been so busy that I haven't had any time to do any extensive research...."

/End ID]

@fleurtygurl Decided to make a whole post based on this because I loooove talking about Filipino mythology and researching more about different mythologies within the country and I also hadn't gone around to looking through the things I want to learn about.

Filipino mythology is a pretty huge umbrella term considering that there are hundreds of cultures in the archipelago that have different beliefs, practices, and traditions and especially before the Spanish colonial period. I won't get too deep into it, but basically if you want to learn about some grander pantheon or some general overarching compendium of beliefs that all precolonial Filipinos believe in, you won't be getting that sine historically, Filipinos were not a unified people, but a bunch of different countries and communities that were placed under one governing body for easy management for the Spanish crown.

With so many Filipino cultures and, by extension, mythologies, the best way with trying to reconnect with your heritage, it might be best to figure out which ethnic group you may have connections too and start researching from there. In my case, for example, I would look up both Tagalog mythology, Bikolano mythology, and Ilokano mythology in order to get a good grasp of the mythology of my roots since I'm mixed Tagalog, Bikolano, and Ilokano, and those three have widely different beliefs and especially with folk religion.

I guess the main issue with this is a lot of sources related to Filipino myths are often difficult to find, are unreliable, or plainly just non-existent. Lots of books are often out of circulation and print, or if they are still in print, they are often only sold by specific retailers and often cost a lot of money. Research papers are locked behind a paywall or are only available through specific e-libraries you can only access if you have an affiliation with a university. Online articles may be unreliable and source places that are hard to fact check. Blogs, honestly including mine to be frank, may parrot wrong information from other websites and articles, with their best feature being the possibility that they may have come from oral sources but those are also very few.

Honestly, I was about to go on a long tangent about discussing at least the Tagalog pantheon and mythology because it had a lot of sources I've seen online, but after hours of research, I've found out that there was also a lot of unreliable sources in terms of information about that so I've decided against rambling on further about it for now.

(I am still going to write about my findings on the Tagalog pantheon later but after what I've found out, I might take some time to look through a lot more primary sources which means colonial era texts and harder to find archived works.)

I will say that a good way to connect with more general Filipino folklore outside of mythology itself is probably consuming media that explores folklore and traditional beliefs. I recommend Trese, a Filipino comic turned series on Netflix if you want to see Filipino cryptids being used in a modern-day story made by Filipinos. There are also other comics that focus on Filipino mythology like The Mythology Class and its sequel The Children of Bathala by Arnold Arre.

There's also series and movies that take inspiration from Filipino folklore and mythology with Dayo: Sa Mundo ng Elementalya (English name Niko: The Journey to Magika) as my go-to suggestion. I had also heard good reviews for Amaya, a series created by GMA 7, but honestly I don't think the series clicked with me.

#mayaposts #mayapino #fleurtygurl #filipino #philippines #filipino mythology #might make posts about specific filipino myths some other time because it's such a big umbrella of stories and legends #outside of the precolonial religion #sorry to make this post so long i'm a give me an inch i'll go a mile kinda person #long post

[russilton]

Im new here and i must say that ur blog is a treasure to me (no dramatic). I enjoy ur postings a lot and I admire you sooo much!

It's a fascinating ship BUT sadly not a lot of people have realized this point i may say. and Im wondering when did you start to ship them? (cuz u know, the No1 gewis fan i may say? lol). Like when george came to merc? or even before? or it's like some special moments and everything suddenly clicks?

(feel free to ignore this if you don't wanna answer(but im lookin forward to it 😜)

Well anon you got me blushing at 10am, thank you very much

Wildly, I can give you the exact moment I started shipping it, because I documented it on discord.

See I’d sent @thatsmemate a gif of Bono earlier that day while explaining f1 to her, and she’d said Lewis and Bono looked like they were carnally in love, which to be fair in that gif they absolutely did. Then she went to bed, and I, a man with the flu and access to an ao3 account, did what any normal person does, and went “huh I wonder if there’s fic about Lewis on ao3”

And there sure was (fic is censored because I didn’t end up personally enjoying it but that’s not the authors fault, I just didn’t vibe with top George)

As we can all guess, it did indeed open Pandora’s box, because nobody reads just one fic when they’re sick.

I do truly wonder had my first f1 rpf fic been sewis or galex if I’d be here now- I really don’t know! I can explain to you all the reasons gewis is so vibrant and important and meaningful to me, but I also know I imprint like a duck, and it may have been the fact that it was the first fic I read and I went “well, this is awesome, I would like more” and then when I tried other ships it just… didn’t do anything for me? I mean I was well aware of and still follow the sewis sub reddit but never felt inclined to the fic ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (I also blame @hamiltvn and @danielssmile for having posted fics that knocked me on my ass when I started reading gewis , like can’t argue with quality)

Whatever it was, it clicked with me, and while I tried to go “this is weird they’re real people we can’t read this” I just… kept going back all while watching the races. I’d already gotten SO fond of George at Merc as it was, I was a fan of his before he signed with them, and while I was sad when he was signed over Val, I was also excited as all hell. Val seemed like Merc was taking a huge toll on him, and George was so silly but incredibly committed.

I can also give you the moment it clicked. I was on IG, recommended to me between races, Merc had posted a clip of Lewis interrupting George’s Australia interview to hug him, and George’s face just… wobbles. When he comes back to the interview his lip quivers and he has to take a breath, he looks happy but so very ready to cry… that was it for me, I just sat there and though oh, you adore him, of course you do.

I have shown this clip to so many gewis people who do not feel the same way about it I do, which is fascinating but I spose we can’t decide what our spark is can we? This was just it for me, and it’s only gotten worse seeing George flourish as his own person, he’s not just… chasing Lewis now, but valued as his own person, WHILE still putting Lewis at the centre of his focus and admiration. He’s no longer standing within a shadow- he’s growing out of it while remaining firmly rooted in that emotion of respect.

AND Lewis gives it back hand over fist the more he describes George as the push that helps keep him driving, the more he sees George as an almost equal

I only get more in love with them, even if they frustrate me and their team frustrate me and their fans… sure are loud. They bring me joy.

#asks #anonymous #mark talks Britcedes #I think I’ve told this story before but I’m one of those old people

[bukguhope]

in which badboy! jeon jungkook desperately needs everyone to think he has a girlfriend and out of all the girls on campus that he could’ve chosen to fake date- he chose you, the girl who hates him the most.

fake dating, badboy! jungkook, swearing, mentions of blood/fighting, hate(mainly oc) to love, eventual light smut, little pining TW: mentions of SA

@familiarlikemymirror3 @sleeping-bunny-sensei @ellesalazar @thisartemisnevermisses

The crowd of people surrounding the posters whispered among themselves as they looked at you and Jungkook. Your grip on his hand tightened, embarrassment filling your body as a bunch of eyes stare at you. Stumbling back slightly your heels click on the floor and Jungkook moves to stand in front of you, blocking the crowds view of you.

“y/n, you okay?” You heard him but you couldn’t muster up the words to reply, it was just so humiliating. Your head began to spin and a million thoughts ran through your mind at once. Thoughts about everyone talking behind your back, making up opinions about you when they knew nothing about you. Even worse, Jungkook being kicked out for lying

“guys what the fuck?!” You recognised the voice as Taehyung, he strolled right past you and pushed his way into the crowd before ripping every single poster down in a huff. “everyone fuck off you gossiping bitches!” He had a big pile of crumpled posters in his hands and the crowd began to shuffle away as he pushed the papers into a near by bin, a few falling on the floor as he did so. 

“y/n please say something” Jungkook’s eyes hadn’t moved from yours once and you took in a deep inhale as Taehyung made his way over

“what the hell was that? who did that?” Your friend was seething and for moment you appreciated him but with all the other thoughts running through your head you couldn’t hang onto that moment

“we don’t know, but trust me i’ll find out” Jungkook lets out through clenched teeth, hand still clinging onto yours and after all the thoughts running through your mind, you finally managed to speak

“Jungkook, what if the coach saw them?” Your voice was quiet and a little shaky, worry pouring through every word

“sweetheart don’t worry about that, i just want to know if you’re okay?” God even with the threat of being kicked out he was still worrying about you, how could you have disliked him for so long?

“what kind of sick bastard goes through your shit and posts it all over campus?!” You look over to Tae, suddenly wondering the same thing. The thought of something snooping through Jungkook’s things to get something on him enraged you.

“where were you keeping that agreement?” You ask before dropping his hand and heading back inside the campus, the boys racing to keep up with you

“in my gym bag, please don’t be angry iam so sorry i should’ve kept it somewhere safer” Your heart tightened, you were the furthest thing from angry with him but you suppose walking off sure made it seem like that

“oh Jungkook no iam not angry, some sicko went through your shit i was asking so we can figure out who” He seemed relieved, putting a warm hand on your back as you open the door to your dormitory building

“ok so it was in his gym bag, so anyone with access to your dorm or the locker rooms would get into it?” Taehyung assumes as your retrieve your keys and unlock your dorm before all of you head inside. You slip of your heels as Jungkook closes the door.

“surely no one on your team would do that to you?” You ask, sitting down on your bed while the boys begin to pace around.

“no, i wouldn’t assume so. fuck! whoever did this is dead” He crosses his arms over his chest as he stops pacing and stands rooted next to where your sat. You nibble on your thumbnail as you all think quietly, but one thought is still on your mind

“Jungkook, we really have to make sure the coach hasn’t heard about this. What if you get kicked out?” He looks down at you, gaze soft before sitting down with you.

“i’ll be fine, i should’ve never dragged you into this” You place a hand on his thigh and rub gentle circles with your thumb

“no i agreed don’t take the blame, you just wanted to graduate” Jungkook gives you a small smile before reaching behind you and placing a hand on the small of your back

“ugh you two are disgustingly cute” Taehyung scoffs as he pulls out his phone and you can’t help the laugh that comes out before “oh shit” Your laughter stops immediately as you look up at Tae narrowing his eyes at his phone

“what? what is it?” You ask frantically and Taehyung flips his phone screen, showing you and Jungkook a video from Twitter. The pair of you look on as a guy enters the frame, wearing all black with a hand full of posters and he gives a looks around before sticking them right on the campus map board you were looking at not too long ago.

Your heart drops.

“that’s the fucking guy that got me suspended!” Jungkook gets out but you’re frozen, you don’t say a word. Taehyung flips the phone back to himself “he must’ve gotten into my bag before the game, iam gonna fucking kill him!” He stands to leave but you grip into the fabric of his jeans making him look down at your hand before looking at you.

“y/n?” Taehyung says, looking down at you concerned as you blink rapidly and you let out a shaky breath. Jungkook takes your hand off his jeans before holding it in his own.

“i know him” You manage to get out, and the boys look at each other before back to you and you know you’re going to have to explain. It made so much more sense that he was targeting Jungkook now you knew his identity, after all you’re the reason he had to move schools.

“how y/n?” Taehyung encourages and you feels so guilty, you normally tell him everything- he’s your best friend. But this was one thing you never uttered to a single person, not a soul knew about this and now you had to relive it.

“it’s okay, take your time” Jungkook gives you a reassuring smile as he sits back down and keeps his hand tightly in yours. You take a long breath before starting your story.

“it was just before that argument Jungkook pulled me into” You start, the boys waiting patiently for you to continue “i went to this campus party”

“you were at a party?!” Taehyung exclaims but shakes his head as you and Jungkook give him a look “sorry, continue” You’d laugh if it wasn’t for the situation

“yeah i thought why not it’ll be fun, i was so fucking wrong. the party was awful, i knew no one and it was getting way too rowdy. well, i was getting a drink and this guy just comes up behind me.” Your voice becomes shaky and the boys sigh and look away, having a funny feeling where this story was going. “he put his hands on me, like a fucking hard ass grip on waist and it made me jump. i turned and pushed him, told him to fuck off and i left. the night was shit already and that just pissed me off so i just wanted to go home” Jungkook lets go of your hand, preferring to wrap his arm around you instead.

“y/n, he didn’t… did he?” Taehyung asks, tentatively not being able to utter a certain word but you understood and you shake your head

“no, thank god but he followed me” They were somewhat relieved, but not too much as the story wasn’t over “i was close the dorms when i heard the footsteps, i tried to go a little faster but it was no use. someone grabbed me, pulled me to the ground. i already knew it was him before i even got a look, he grabbed my hair and held me down” Taehyung’s head dropped, hands balling into fists and you felt Jungkook’s arm tighten around you. “he started calling me names but we started hearing these voices and he got distracted so i lifted my foot and kicked him. he stumbled back and i got up and ran. i was so fucking angry, i reported him the next day because i knew they had cameras in that area. the prick didn’t think about that” You let out a half hearted chuckle, void of humour.

“please tell me the fucker got what was coming to him?” Taehyung grits his teeth and you nod but you wished he’d gotten worse

“he got kicked out, almost immediately but his family has connections so he managed to get in somewhere else. which was fine for me, he wasn’t here anymore. i didn’t realise he’d hold a fucking grudge this long, he must have saw Jungkook give me that drink at the game and made up the whole scheme” With that, your story concluded and the room fell silent. You weren’t upset, just angry, you had come to terms with what happened and happy you got his ass kicked from this place.

“iam sorry that happened to you. why didn’t you tell me? i would’ve never pushed for you to go to parties with me all the time, i could’ve helped you through it” Taehyung bends to his knees in front of you and you shrug, not too sure why you never told him

“i don’t know i just, i didn’t want the sympathy i guess. didn’t want you to look at me different” You explain and Tae gives you a big smile

“please y/n. you told him to fuck off, kicked him and got him thrown from this place. i would’ve never looked at you differently because that’s exactly the type of person you are, strong” You heart tightened, he really was the most amazing best friend.

“and you fought a stranger because of me afterwards, you really are the strongest person while i can’t even fight my own battles and iam meant to be in the mafia” You laughed at Jungkook, head falling backwards as he pulls you into his side

“you know about those rumours?” Taehyung chuckles and Jungkook nods his head with a smile

“heard one time Jimin was here as my right hand man and killed anyone who looked at me wrong, i cried laughing so hard that day that man gags when he gets injections” You all chuckle, the rumours truly were ridiculous at this place but at least it boosted the atmosphere after your admission

“ok, that video is everywhere and i’ve screen recorded it so in case it disappears i have it. his face is clear, so we come up with a story about how the agreement was a joke or something and we report his ass” You sigh and shake your head

“it’s no use Tae, his family will get him out of it. I just want to make sure that the coach hasn’t found out, that’s the main priority right now”

“no” Jungkook mutters and you turn your head to him “iam not the priority, making sure this guys gets what’s coming to him is. and i promise you y/n, he’s gonna regret ever even looking at you”

#bts fanfic #jungkook #taehyung #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jimin #jungkook enemies to lovers #jungkook fake dating #jungkook fanfic

[rebeccathenaturalist]

How to Identify Western Sword Ferns

Originally posted at my blog at https://rebeccalexa.com/how-to-identify-western-sword-ferns/. Click here to learn more about the How to Identify article series.

Name: Western sword fern (Polystichum munitum)

Range and typical habitat(s): West coast of North America from southern California to extreme southern Alaska, and inland to the western Rockies in Idaho; also introduced to a few places in the United Kingdom and Ireland. Widespread through conifer forests at low elevations; while it is most commonly part of the understory of these forests, it may sometimes be found in nearby open areas as an early succession pioneer after disturbance.

Distinguishing physical characteristics (size, colors, overall shapes, detail shapes): This is a large fern, with individual fronds up to six feet long; the entire plant may be six or more feet across in very large specimens. The overall shape of younger plants may be a sort of “fountain” formation; with age and size some of the stems begin to droop downward, giving the overall plant more of a spherical or semi-spherical appearance. The leaves are a medium to medium-dark green; the spore-bearing sori on the underside are a rusty brown.

Underside of leaves showing sori. By brewbooks, CCA-SA-2.0

Each frond consists of a single stem (rachis). This rachis is round, solid inside, and may have a deep furrow down the center. It is green with rust-brown flecks along its length. Individual leaves (pinnae) grow in an alternate pattern along the stem; alternate means that one grows on one side, and then the next on the other just a little further down the rachis, and then the next on the first side a little further down, etc.) Almost the entire rachis is covered in leaves, except for a few inches at the base. Several of these may grow out of the same root/rhizome system, clustered close together, with dead growth from previous years lying on the ground at the plant’s base.

The sword fern is what’s known as single pinnate, meaning that there are leaves arranged in pairs along a single rachis, but those leaves are not further divided into smaller leaflets. Each leaf is lance-shaped with a pointed tip and finely serrated edges. The leaf has a main central vein, with smaller veins branching off of it in pairs, one on each side. On the underside of the leaf, the sori look like little brown fuzzy circles. They are arranged quite closely to each other in two rows, one row on either side of the central vein of the leaf. Each leaf varies from less than an inch to six inches long; the larger leaves are closer to the base of the stem, and get smaller toward the tip. The last few leaves near the tip may not be fully separated from each other. The leaves are attached to the rachis by very slender, short stems (petioles) at their base. The tips of some of the leaves may point away from the center/base of the plant, toward the end of the rachis.

Other organisms it could be confused with and how to tell the difference: While western sword fern tends to be the most common Polystichum species in its range, there are a few other species of the genus that overlap. You’ll need to look at small details to tell the difference; for example, P. imbricans can be distinguished from P. munitum by examining the leaves in relation to the main stem. In P. imbricans, the leaves are actually rotated on their petioles so that they are perpendicular to the stem like rungs on a ladder, rather than growing “flat”:

In addition to paying attention to small differences in things like leaf shape and arrangement, you also want to note where you saw the fern in question. Not every look-alike Polystichum species will be found in every part of western sword fern’s range; P. californicum, for example, only grows from southernmost British Columbia to central California. If you don’t have access to field guides, create a free account on iNaturalist. You can use the Explore function on the phone app or computer browser to see where people have logged observations of just about any species of living being you can think of; while it isn’t as exact as a formal range map, it’s a good substitute for casual use.

Finally, there are other ferns outside of the genus Polystichum that can also be confused with western sword fern. A good example is deer fern (Struthiopteris spicant). While it also has a cluster of individual fronds, each composed of a central rachis with pairs of leaves on either side, deer fern is smaller than western sword fern. A closer look shows that the leaves of deer fern are attached to the rachis by their entire bottom edge (sessile), rather than by a petiole:

Also, deer ferns have specially adapted “fertile” leaves that look different from the rest; western sword ferns lack these. These consist of a dark, tall rachis that has thinner, more widely spaced leaves; these lift the sori higher above the rest of the plant so that the wind can more easily blow away the spores. Their resemblance to deer antlers gives this fern its name:

A good quick guide that may help with distinguishing western sword fern from others in its range is Pacific Fern Finder by Glenn Keator. While it isn’t absolutely complete, it covers the more common species and is a dichotomous key that helps you narrow down your options by looking at various physical characteristics of the fern you’re trying to identify.

Anything else worth mentioning? Western sword ferns are not among the few species whose fiddleheads (young, curled-up fronds) are safe to eat. Reportedly the rhizomes have historically been used as a last-resort food source by some indigenous people. However, concerns about carcinogens mean this plant should not be considered a regular edible.

10000 Things of the PNW has a more detailed write-up of this species here.

Further reading:

Native Plants PNW: Western Sword Fern

OSU Extension’s Tourism Blog: Western Sword Fern

CalScape: Sword Fern

10000 Things of the Northwest: Polystichum imbricans (as a comparison to P. munitum)

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!

#ferns #nature #PNW #Pacific Northwest #plants #botany #biology #forest #forestcore #naturecore #ecology #nature identification #How to Identify #long post #foraging #educational #outdoors #natural history #scicomm #science communication

[arbitrarygreay]

Audacity for Debian-based Linux

So, some time around 2020/2021, Audacity for Linux from the repositories of Debian-based distros (including Ubuntu, Mint, etc.) no longer had access to high quality stretch (change tempo, change pitch, shifting slider). This appears to be due to a combination of Debian no longer updating Audacity at all past 2.4.2 (as Audacity's new owners from 3.0.0 on have had...issues, to put it lightly), but also the fact that 2.4.2 specifically was requiring a version of the SBSMS library past what Debian had. It's still the case that the apt version of Audacity on Linux Mint still lacks the high quality stretch functions.

The workaround for this is to compile from source. HOWEVER. Be apprised that if you specifically go for version 2.4.2, there is still a bug around SBSMS, which causes Audacity to crash when attempting high quality stretching. Apparently, if you go for versions afterwards (3.0+, new Audacity owners), or the version before (2.3.3), you will not run into this issue.

I am stubborn, so I have verified that I can now open Audacity 2.4.2 and do a high quality pitch change without crashing. Here are the solution options. Know that both are still compiling from source.

Option 1: Do it manually command by command on the terminal

You will, however, notice that the important download link for the patch is broken. You must get it from here.

Note that you should preface all of the commands listed in that post with "sudo", or they will likely throw an error. (Or do whatever you need to for terminal to continuously recognize root access.) In addition, note that the "pre-installation test" section is not optional. Audacity will not run if the "Portable Settings" folder is not created, and furthermore, the "Portable Settings" folder and all containing files need to have write permissions enabled to the relevant non-root group/owner.

Whether you installed manually or used the script, you will need to go to "/usr/local/share/audacity/audacity-minsrc-2.4.2/build/bin/Release" to launch Audacity. In the file explorer window, you can click the button to the left of the magnifying glass to switch to text input where you can copy and paste the above path. Or, from /home, go up one level, and then navigate through manually.

Change the launcher's icon and add it to the start menu/desktop, per your specific distro and desktop environment.

Option 2: Modify and run a bash script

I found a helpful Youtube video stepping through the process, before they link to a bash script automating the whole thing. However, the script does not include the 2.4.2 patch. There are also a few modifications that need to be done to the script.

Modifications to make (right click the .sh file, open with, pick some text editor):

Line 35: change the dl_directory to match your own system. (Specifically, you probably need to replace "piuser" with your own account name.)

This change also needs be done on lines 115, 116, and 120 (or replace the hard coded parts with "${DL_DIRECTORY}").

Line 77 (optional): add "patch" as a dependent package to check. Like Python, it's mostly likely already installed, so you could leave this commented out.

Lines 139-142: Not a modification, but a note that I didn't end up using this (left it commented out), so I did have to download the 2.4.2 source code from fosshub manually and put it in the location specified by dl_directory. I also put the patch there. If you do want to try to automate the download, you'll not only have to add another line to also download the patch file, but both the source code for 2.4.2 and the patch have hyphens in their urls, so you need to either add backslashes to escape them, or enclose the entire url in quotation marks. But I also can't guarantee that either of those things will work, since I ended up doing the downloads manually.

Line 150: Per the manual installation above, the patch needs to be applied before the build. Add this code block at line 150 (after the script checks to see if the "Build" folder exists):

#SBSMS patch required for 2.4.2 if [ -f "${DL_DIRECTORY}/changepitch.patch" ]; then sudo cp "${DL_DIRECTORY}/changepitch.patch" "${DIRECTORY}/${VERSION}" fi sudo patch -p 1 < changepitch.patch

That's it for changing the script. Save it, close out of the text editor. (If you decided not to try letting the script do the downloads, then make sure you download the source code and the patch and put them in the dl_directory location at this point.)

Enable the script to be executable. (Right click the .sh file, Properties. On the Permissions tab, check that "Allow executing file as a program" is checked.)

Double click the .sh file. I suggest doing the "Run In Terminal" option so you can see the progress. (And if it's really short, probably something went wrong. The build section takes 20 minutes.)

This script does not include installing the offline manual for Audacity. That is covered in the guide posted in Option 1. Sorry, you'll have to do some terminal typing after all.

Whether you installed manually or used the script, you will need to go to "/usr/local/share/audacity/audacity-minsrc-2.4.2/build/bin/Release" to launch Audacity. In the file explorer window, you can click the button to the left of the magnifying glass to switch to text input where you can copy and paste the above path. Or, from /home, go up one level, and then navigate through manually.

Change the launcher's icon and add it to the start menu/desktop, per your specific distro and desktop environment.

#linux #linux mint #ubuntu #debian #audacity #category: other #vibrating at the mashups now once again at my fingertips

[weirdcultstuff]

This is a feelings wheel. There are lots of different ones out there, this just one of them.

My therapist gave me a feelings wheel once to help me identify my emotions. We’d sort of worked our way backwards to that point, which is exactly what you do with the wheel itself!

It started with identifying that I had the emotional range of a small piece of dryer lint. The things I felt were shallow, distant, difficult to name or understand. I was pretty much always in a calm, pleasant demeanor, sometimes appearing melancholy. If you asked me how I was, I would respond that I was “okay” or “content.” (I thought those were the only virtuous things I could really be, and it never occurred to me that I might not actually be those things. I’d been them for so long, it felt kind of as much a part of me as my eye color is a part of me.) I said I was having those emotions even when talking about disturbing things in therapy, even when having big problems, even when exciting fun things were happening.

Now, obviously, I was having other emotions. My therapist and people close to me could still tell when I was having a hard time or an easier time. Even I myself could admit that I was “upset” and more often I would talk about how the situation was a sad or frustrating situation, but I didn’t claim those emotions as my own. (“It’s a really difficult thing to miss someone who has died, but I’m doing okay.”)

My friends said things like “you’re always so happy!” Or “you’re always cheerful” “you’re always nice.” Sometimes I even got feedback that my emotions seemed a bit insincere, my agreeableness seemed uncanny and automatic.

Anyway, I wasn’t experiencing emotional range and I had no idea how to access or feel my feelings without getting immediately totally overwhelmed and shutting down.

Enter: the feelings wheel, stage left.

Pick whatever is closest to your current emotion, in the largest options in the middle. Then work your way out, picking the closest emotions to your current emotion as you go.

At first when I did this, I would go to “happy” then to “content” (I didn’t have this exact wheel, but I had a similar one) and then beyond that I would always end up lost. None of the options seemed to fit. I would tell my therapist that I just felt “blank. None of these are how I feel.” I disengaged. So we would take a break and try again after a bit.

My feelings weren’t strong, it was hard for me to say that I felt “angry” but as we talked about what it’s like to be “annoyed” or “tense,” I could see how those applied to my feelings some days.

At some point things started to click a little bit more. Yeah, I was mad sometimes. Yeah, I was sad. Vulnerable, lonely, critical, confused, distant. I finally had words to describe what was going on, and permission to use those words to acknowledge my state. Because at the very root of it, I had thought it was a punishable thing to use those words and to have those feelings.

My entire life I’d been punished for displaying feelings. I have vivid memories of being spanked for laughing too loud. The adults in my world would literally spank a kid for crying until the kid stopped crying. So I eventually just shut down as much as I could, and I didn’t even notice I was doing it.

But here’s the news of the day:

None of the feelings on the feelings wheel are sinful to feel. None of them are punishable. None of them are wrong to have.

Anyway, I’m still working on that one, and now I’m also learning how to fuckin properly emote. I can laugh more easily now than I used to, still can’t make any sound when I cry, still can’t yell, still can’t dance, still seem to sit too still compared to my friends. Still so much work to do! But it’s progress, not perfection, right?

#go to therapy kids

[waywardstation]

Heart Full, Bowl Empty

Chapter 4 - Breakfast

Ingo and Akari stop at the Icepeak Base Camp for a quick breakfast, and to talk some things out

Ingo and Akari finally get to slow down and have something proper to eat!! A shorter chapter, but if I added it to chapter 3 as intended, it would have been massive. Huge thanks to @/monsoon-of-art and @/ingo-ingoing-ingone for beta reading this and helping out! Again it really helped pull this chapter together! :)

OR read on AO3!

Enjoy!

Previous Chapter

————

The Galaxy Team banners waved gently in the weak wind, and undisturbed snow crunched under Akari’s boots as she reached the base camp nestled at the edge of the Icelands’ river, between groups of powdered trees and a steep cliff face.

The camp was completely vacant, and a cold blanket of snow was draped over everything, from the tents, to the storage container, to the crafting box. Akari couldn’t even see the campfire, which was now a pathetic hill of snow in the center of the area.

She couldn’t blame the Galaxy Team member usually stationed out here for leaving his post to head back to Jubilife; the conditions last night would have been unbearable to stay in, even in one of the insulating tents.

Though their absence had resulted in the camp’s supply box lid being locked down; with no one around to stand guard, wild Pokémon would have otherwise wandered into camp and looted out of the crate. Akari took a moment to unlock the box, working as fast as she could on it; the frozen metal lock was so cold, it felt like it burned her fingers when they lingered on the surface for too long.

Finally, the lock clicked, and she cracked the supply box open, dumping the accumulated snow layer off the back. Looking inside the large storage container, Akari could see that some of the meager supplies had been taken since then.

This was expected however, seeing as survey corps members had a shared system going with the base camps’ supply boxes. It was normal for members to use items that others had stored away within certain boxes, as long as they repaid them with replacements at a later date. Two lists in the box would keep track of that, one listing each member and which belongings they wrote they had stored in the box, and another where one could write what items they borrowed from who.

This was done mostly to ensure that the survey corps would almost always have access to any needed items out in the field, as well as exercise a sense of trust and responsibility between members.

Among some of the items Akari chose to store in this box (which wasn’t much), she noticed immediately that her medicinal leeks and pecha berries had been taken. Glancing at the inside of the box’s lid, she could see that Rei and Professor Laventon had scrawled down on the “used items” list that they had taken a few, and would replace them next time their survey work brought them out to the Icelands…which could be a while, seeing as barely anyone came out here.

But that was fine! What Akari was planning to prepare didn’t require any of these items anyways.

With the hand not holding the supply box open, Akari reached back into her satchel and pulled out her Pokedex, setting it beside her to flip through to the back pages and pull out a certain scrap of writing.

The Pokedex was for thoroughly documenting Pokémon, sure, but Akari found it was also useful to store scraps and papers containing recipes, either written herself, or handed to her by various folks.

“Have you found what you’re searching for?” Ingo’s voice was heard as another set of footsteps crunched in the snow behind her; the warden finally made it to camp at his own pace.

“Yes! And I’m making us both breakfast with them!” Akari kept her back to him as she continued to root through the box, fishing out all of the required ingredients jotted down on the particular scrap paper.”...Uh, you like muffins, right? Is this ok?”

She paused for a moment to hand her Pokedex to Ingo, and he made his way further into the camp to receive it and view the recipe.

“These sounds excellent right now,” Ingo approved, glancing at the page. He set the Pokedex back down for Akari to refer to and kept himself stationed near her, should she need help while continuing to grab ingredients.

She collected the cake lure base, hearty grains, and razz berries, but also grabbed up a handful of oran berries, and the largest hollowed-out apricorn shells she had stored away. Thankfully, she had stocked all of these ingredients here herself, so she wouldn’t have to borrow from anyone, and she had just enough.

“It um, takes a few minutes to make, though. Do we have time for that?” Akari half-expected Ingo to ask her to instead settle for just grabbing some berries, so that they could get back on the road quickly. But either out of patience to let her do her own thing, or his own exhaustion asking him to take a break and rest, he didn’t.

“Our schedule can accommodate it,” He reassured her instead. He watched her dump the pile of ingredients bundled in her arms next to the snow-covered crafting box, which she quickly began to brush off. “Would you like some assistance?”

“It’s ok, I got this! It’s really easy to put together.” She popped the crafting box open, grabbing one of the small knives from the crafting box’s set of tools with one hand, and reaching for one of the berries with the other. “I make them all the time!”

“Then if you’ll excuse me, I might take a brief rest stop in the tent. Though, do not hesitate to let me know if you require assistance with anything; I will help.” Akari heard the snow crunch behind her as Ingo moved, before noticing him sit down in one of the camp’s open tents with a grunt, out of the corner of her eye.

He sounded very tired.

A part of Akari was relieved he was taking the chance to just slow down and rest, as that was rare for him. The other part was saddened that it had gotten to that rare point.

Just let him rest for now, and return to work.

Going about cutting the berries and preparing the ingredients to mix with the cake lure base just as the recipe said, Akari grabbed one of the apricorn shells and filled it with the resulting cake lure batter. She set it aside to repeat the process several times over, until she had filled about nine of them, enough to pack the base’s cooking container that sat over the campfire.

Ingo said nothing, silent in the tent as Akari went on with her process. He was thankfully patient enough, resting his head against crossed arms supported against his knees, but overhearing his rumbling stomach still prompted her to rush, even if Ingo was trying to ignore it. And while she couldn’t see it with her back to him, the tremors in his hands occupied her thoughts…when she wasn’t considering his coincidental headache, at least.

She swore that if it wasn’t for his body’s varied reminders, she would have a much harder time even knowing if he was hungry; he never once protested or said a word about it himself, unprompted. At least, not to her.

Thinking on this resumed a train of thought that had been halted earlier.

“...Um, Ingo?” Akari cleared her throat as she turned her attention to the small hill that was the buried campfire. She pulled out the dampened wood logs, shivering at how cold they were to the touch, and returned to the storage box to retrieve dry wood to use for the fire instead.

“Hmm?” the warden hummed as he rubbed at closed eyes from under a tipped cap, like he had let himself doze off.

“Is…” Akari paused for a moment, trying to decide how to go about this. She popped open the lid of the container and placed the batter-filled shells inside, making sure they all sat upright as she contemplated her next words.

Rip the bandaid off.

“Is…everything alright? With the Pearl Clan? And food?”

A short moment of heavy silence made Akari bite her cheek, still keeping her back to the Warden.

“Was that what Volo was discussing with you before my arrival?” Ingo lethargically lifted his head to gaze at her from under the brim of his cap, suddenly seeming more awake. “What did he say to you?”

“He’s just…worried,” Akari defended him, initially sparking a weak flame against the dry wood of the campfire, but the cold snuffed it out quickly. “And it just made me a little worried too. He said, um, something about how the Icelands aren’t producing any food, and how Gaeric’s always ordering stuff now. And something about no one telling him what it’s all for.”

Ingo felt something sharp bristle against the inside of his ribcage.

He had overheard Irida address concerns regarding this with Gaeric at the end of their last clan meeting, about how maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to use his sword cap supplier as a means of keeping stock up. He was much more…curious, than Irida had thought he’d be, which lined up quite well with Ingo’s own present suspicions of him.

And while curiosity was one thing, being nosy was another. Wasn’t it enough that the Pearl clan was trading almost double the value in ice at his request, just so he’d have to do less work but still meet his sales goal? Ingo knew it was because Volo wanted more time to do…whatever it was he did when he wasn’t working.

And besides the fact that they couldn’t afford to trade much else besides their near-endless supply of ice, the clan complied only because it was supposed to keep him from taking on more deliveries for others and swapping rumors with them about what he thought was going on. The Ginkgo Guild’s merchants seemed notorious for doing that, just to bring something interesting to their mundane jobs, and it seemed Volo was especially prone to the habit.

But then to turn around and spout about it to an uninvolved kid who actually seemed to look up to him (to Ingo’s disfavor)…

He wanted something, didn’t he?

A flare of irritation momentarily dwarfed the discomfort of his dull headache.

“Volo does not have to worry,” Ingo stared at the campfire as Akari sparked a small flame against the wood for a second time. Once again, it flickered only for a moment before dying out. Frustrated, she once again attempted to get the logs to spark. “He seems to be searching for a track to take that isn’t there. Winter is always a little harsher for everyone, I believe. But like every winter, the Pearl Clan is making due preparations for it.”

These words of assurance did not come from personal experience, but they were words Ingo believed in; his arrival in Hisui had come before Akari’s, but it had not quite been a year - he had appeared at the tail end of last winter. He had yet to really experience a Hisuian winter and its normalities, just like Akari.

However, he knew enough to know that indeed, current events were threatening to repeat a vicious cycle that once plagued the Pearl Clan around a decade back, according to Irida. A famine. The thought of it repeating sometimes caused Irida to worry quite openly behind closed doors, and request no one speak about what was going on to others outside the clan, even if she was reassuring enough that everything would be taken care of during their public meetings.

Yes, there was a shortage of food. And yes, there were a web of complications that came with it, affecting everything living in the Icelands. By the looks of things, he believed the hardships would persist through this winter. But he also believed in Irida’s guidance and preparation, as their leader.

The cycle would not repeat. They would be fine as long as things don’t start regressing, which they won’t. And especially with Irida insisting they not discuss anything regardless, there was no use in worrying Akari over it.

And another, more careful part of him did not want to relay this to Akari, and end up admitting at least Volo’s observations were astute. Correct information did not always lead to correct conclusions, and Ingo didn’t want to teach her to put any more of her faith into the prying merchant than she already had.

Ingo watched Akari as she gave up trying to start a flame herself, tossing her tools aside with a huff. He was about to offer his own assistance, until she pulled out Ember’s pokeball, opening it with a click. The gentle creature effortlessly huffed a warm spark against the wood, and it flared to life, spreading across the logs. Akari pet Ember on the head with gratitude and situated herself close to the fire to continue tending to it, her warm companion curling up close to her.

She was a good kid, Ingo thought, determined and kind-hearted. She did her best to be independent and take care of things herself, but she still needed help once in a while, as well as guidance. Like all kids did.

It was just that Volo didn’t seem like the best choice to turn to for guidance.

“But what about all of the crop starts that the Pearl Clan’s ordering? And why are they opening the fields back up? Do they need more food?” Akari pressed further, more curious than accusatory or contradictory as she poked at the fire with a nearby stick. As she went on, though, it began to take on a quality of panic. “Was this why you had to skip dinner last night? And why you told me we couldn’t waste anything? …Is that why I made Irida so uncomfortable being there?”

Every question really hit the nail right on the head, but Ingo thought better of answering those directly. And it wasn’t just because of the blunt throbbing in his skull distracting his thoughts and possibly misstating his answers.

Akari was already getting herself worked up on the questions. How would she handle the answers right now?

“Miss Akari! Please, it’s alright. I can assure you that everything is alright,” He reiterated, making sure to hold eye contact with her as he leaned forward to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. “The Pearl Clan orders crop starts monthly for consistent harvests year-round. This is just another cycle. And…last night’s events were simply a product of unpreparedness.”

Both were half-true; Pearl Clan’s orders were just increasing in size and now entirely consisting of cheap sand radishes, as opposed to a more varied selection. And the previous night’s events wouldn’t have had to hinge on preparedness if there was simply enough to go around.

“However I do advise, perhaps, to consider Volo’s words with caution.” Ingo finally broke eye contact to lean back and gaze at the fire, now allowing himself his nervous habit of readjusting his cap by the brim. “As he admitted himself, he does not know all of the situation…and I am aware that the Ginkgo Guild likes to speculate on rumors, especially if it benefits their business. I…would not be surprised if he was simply attempting to glean possible information from you.”

Akari’s features tightened a little at his concluding remarks about Volo, reflexively doubting them as Ingo sadly expected. But he offered her a tired, yet encouraging smile, once again being sure to make eye contact with her to hit the message home.

“Everything is alright.”

Akari, however, didn’t seem entirely convinced with Ingo’s reassurance. Her gaze drifted to stare at the fire, warm steam rose into the frozen air from the top of the cooking container. One hand reaching for Ember to pet in a self-soothing manner, and the pensive look in her eyes gave away that she was still a little troubled.

She dearly wanted to believe Ingo, but she wasn’t sure if he was just protecting her from something. He had a habit of doing this in the past, even with small, unimportant things, like when his back was bothering him, or when he was feeling a little under the weather. She often had to pester things out of him.

On the other hand, Volo had always been quite open about things to her, like with the conversation they just had. And he did say this could just simply be a passing struggle, just like what Ingo was telling her now.

But Volo also said it could be severe. Like something from almighty Sinnoh. And she could barely even begin to comprehend that notion.

Ingo was acting very certain that things were fine. But Volo said no one could say for sure what was going on, and she was inclined to believe that; it made more sense. How could anyone be certain of this? Ingo was always one to consider the possibilities before moving forward, so why was he discrediting Volo for doing that?

Embers from the aggravated flames jumped into the surrounding snow and fizzled out as Akari poked it with a stick again.

Why did nothing about this feel concrete? Why did Ingo seem so guarded about everything? Why was he discouraging her from considering Volo’s thoughts? What wasn’t he telling her?

She didn’t like questioning Ingo like this. It rarely ever happened, but it was upsetting to her when it did.

A bout of particularly upset growling yanked Akari from her thoughts. She turned to the source, glancing back over her shoulder at Ingo, surprised.

“Ugh, please excuse that,” The warden sighed irritably as he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand and clenching a handful of his tunic with the other. He seemed thoroughly irked with himself for drawing her concerned attention. “It’s just that, well, what you are preparing smells rather good.”

“Oh!” Akari’s own stomach turned at the sudden realization that the camp smelled prominently of baking; the contents of the container had been heating over the campfire for several minutes now. Switching her focus to the task at hand, she grabbed a thick patterned cloth from the crafting box to protect her fingers, and lifted the lid off of the container carefully to check. The sweet scent saturated the air further as warm steam puffed out, but the contents themselves didn’t seem quite firm yet. Ember lifted her head into the air and sniffed at the enticing smell.

“They’re almost done!” She reported, closing the container back down to trap any more sweet-smelling steam from escaping. “Just a few more minutes.”

Restlessly turning the bundled cloth over in her hands as she waited by the fire, Akari resigned to silence, deciding it would be best not to return to the previous conversation. Instead, she stole subtle glances at Ingo when she thought he wouldn’t notice. His head had dipped forward as his (still shaking) hand carefully massaged the back of his neck. He still had the headache. He always did that when his head hurt.

Akari’s attention drifted back to the patterned cloth in her hands, now crumpled into a ball. She reminded herself that they were both just hungry and tired, and Ingo was still dealing with that headache.

Maybe that’s why everything felt so frustrating and didn’t make any sense. They just needed to eat first. And then, maybe, things would seem better.

Standing up from the campfire, Akari returned to the supply box once again and moved to root through the contents, grabbing up a handful of large, thick caster fern leaves. One of the few things in the storage box that weren’t hers, she quickly scrawled down on the inside of the lid for Rei and the professor that a few of their caster ferns was a good enough repayment for the leeks and berries that they had borrowed from her.

“Ok, I think they’re done,” Akari said as she popped the lid off of the container once again, quickly sticking one of the crafting box’s smaller knives into one of the muffins to ensure it was thoroughly baked. It pulled out clean of batter, as she had hoped. “And hey, not burned this time, or underdone!”

“I thought you said they were easy to put together?”A smile tugged at Ingo’s mouth as he huffed with amusement, leaning forward as Akari plucked one of the hot apricorn shells out of the container and plopped its contents into a caster fern leaf, wrapping it tight. He was admittedly eager at the prospect of finally eating.

“Jubilife muffins are easy to put together! It’s baking them that’s the hard part!” Akari explained, holding her hard work up to show the warden. In her hands was a steaming hot pastry, wrapped in an insulating caster fern to allow it to be held. “…Well, a version of them. They’re much harder to make over a campfire. But I think they still turned out ok! And…”

Her other hand disappeared for a moment back into her satchel to search for something else, before pulling out the jar of honey Volo had given her earlier.

“…You can’t have one of these without honey!”

Before Ingo could even protest against the idea of her using such a valuable thing on him, she popped the lid off (with a bit of trouble, having one free hand) and poured a perfect amount of the sweet-smelling honey onto the warm muffin. Enough to saturate the pastry, but not enough to overdo it and make everything irritatingly sticky.

“Ah, I do not want you to use up your…gift, on me,” Ingo was hesitant for a moment, even though the muffin looked even more appetizing with it. “You were rather excited to receive it.”

“Only because I knew I could share it with you! It’s not like we’ll use it all, and it makes the muffin much better! I swear! …Except, Rei likes these better without honey. He says it makes the whole thing ‘too sweet’.” Akari went on in a playfully mocking tone, closing the lid of the jar. “I’d like to see how he’d handle some of our candy from back home!”

She laughed at the thought before she held the muffin out for Ingo to take. “But, hopefully you like it with honey!”

Ingo accepted the muffin with unsteady hands as she turned back to the cooking container. He turned it around in his fingers as he felt the inviting warmth of it, insulated by the caster fern. The pastry had cooled down enough, but the freshly-baked scent of the muffin wafted up, crossed with the sweet smell of berries.

Akari did say she had trouble with baking them, but to him, these seemed like Wallflower-quality. Maybe she should consider working something out with Beni to get these on the menu there.

“Thank you, Miss Akari,” Ingo thanked the girl as she moved to sit next to him in the base’s tent with the cooling container set on her other side, finally relenting as he began to unwrap the caster fern. Ember followed her into the tent, eager for a treat of her own as Akari prepared one for her as well.

Biting into his muffin, Ingo instantly took note of the sweet flavor of the cake lure base and the berries. Despite just baking over a campfire, the chilled honey cooled it down enough to enjoy without burning his mouth. The lure base had also helped it lock in moisture and keep a soft consistency; the sweet honey and juicy berries assisted this even further. Texture-wise, it was very much like a bite of fluffy cake.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t had a proper meal in over twenty-four hours, but Ingo couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed something so much.

“Bravo!” Ingo complimented Akari on her work, swallowing quickly to express his admiration. ”Very good job with these!”

“It’s not too sweet with the honey?” Akari mumbled over a mouthful of her own honey-soaked muffin as she brushed crumbs off her uniform, leaving a bit of a mess around her. Beside her, Ember was slowly nibbling on her own pastry, stopping frequently to lick the honey off of her paws.

“Not at all! It’s rather complimentary, just as you suggested.”

“I knew you’d have better sense than Rei!” Akari smiled wide, absolutely elated that Ingo enjoyed the final product, and that she had done well for him, after he had done so much for her.

Finally, the thorn of guilt buried into her side, deep from the previous day’s events, began to loosen itself.

Ingo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he finished the muffin, discarding the caster leaf wrapper into the snow - he almost didn’t notice Akari holding out a second muffin to him from his side.

“They’re smaller, so I made a lot,” she mumbled through a mouthful. Crumbs decorated her face, having already finished her own muffin, as she began pouring more honey straight from the jar onto his next one.

The corner of Ingo’s mouth twitched, as if reflexively ready to decline out of politeness before he could even think on it for himself, but Akari practically pushed it into his hands.

“Don’t say no! I made these expecting us to eat all of them!” Akari almost read his mind as she pulled out a second muffin for herself from the container beside her. “And I can’t have all of these myself!”

She knew she didn’t even have to bring up his low blood sugar symptoms as points.

Ingo gave her a thin, but genuine smile as he accepted the second offering, and began peeling it. “Alright. Thank you.”

And the two sat in comfortable silence as they worked their way through the muffins, Akari plucking one for herself and handing another to Ingo every time either of them finished one. She would occasionally glance over at the warden as she ate, whenever she thought he wasn’t looking. His hands still seemed shaky, and he still seemed rather fatigued after a sleepless night, chewing with closed eyes and a dipped head, but they seemed to be signs of relaxation as well. On her other side, Ember was still working her way through her first muffin, more chunks of pastry that had been torn apart at this point.

Letting them enjoy the quiet, she took the time to appreciate her surroundings.

The brisk morning sun was rising higher, brightening the expanse of sky that stretched over the Icelands, and reflecting warmer tones off of the overnight snow that clung to the surrounding trees. More wild Pokémon were beginning to wake up with the later morning, and distant sounds of aipom and snover were beginning to join in with the far-off cries of the rufflet. Across the river, wisps of smoke began to rise from the Pearl Clan settlement nestled against the incline, signaling the rest of the village was starting to wake up.

It was a very relaxing view, and momentarily quelled any worries that had followed Akari into camp earlier.

Maybe the day wouldn’t be so bad after all, she hoped as she grasped for another muffin after noticing Ingo had stopped chewing. She gently elbowed him to get him to open his eyes, and notice the pastry.

“Ah, this is sufficient,” Ingo broke the silence as he took the muffin that Akari held out with one hand, waving his other to indicate this was his last. This was his fifth, and they were small enough as Akari had said, but rather filling. “Thank you.”

Thankfully, it was the last one she had made anyways, Akari thought as Ingo began to eat it. She wondered if he would have accepted it if he knew that. She was glad he did not know - she wanted him to have it.

“Jubilife muffins,” Ingo cleared his throat after a moment, pausing halfway through the last muffin. “I don’t recall oran berries being a part of the recipe when I read it. Is that exclusive to your, ah, ‘campfire version’?”

“Oh! No, I like to add those because my mom would always make things with oran berries,” Akari explained, dusting herself off of stray crumbs. “And, it just kind of reminds me of her baking, is all. Why? Would you like it better without them?”

“Not at all! I’d say it’s an improvement.” Ingo mused. “And, it also seems to resurface something for me as well.”

“Really?” Akari’s attention quickly snapped back to Ingo. The warden had taken to openly sharing with Akari when he recalled something from before Hisui, but lately these occurrences had seemed to slow down. So when he did appear to remember something new, it excited Akari, no matter how big or small it was.

“It’s been nagging me since we started eating.” Ingo closed his eyes to try and focus better through the fading headache.

(Holes) (in) His memory made it hard. (to)(remember,)(though.)

In the mornings (before) the (Battle Subway) opened, he would like to pick up an oran (berry) muffin with his (coffee)(order) at (Gear) Station’s (coffee shop). (Emmet) would prefer the (salted)(protein) bars with his own (coffee).

( )( )( )( )( )

…In the mornings, before opening, he would like to pick up an oran muffin at one of his previous stations. The other preferred the bars with his own.

…Well, that was a frustratingly little amount to glean after running it through the hole-puncher.

Ingo rubbed at a dull aching that pushed against the back of his skull, but it was not as sharp as the hunger-induced headache from earlier, thankfully.

“I can only seem to recall having something similar in the mornings, before…well, whatever it was I committed to as a job, exactly.” Ingo stopped trying to grasp for any more information, satisfied enough with what he had.

“You got to have muffins every morning?” Akari gaped at him, amused. “Lucky! Mom never let me have things like that for breakfast!”

“I don’t think I could go back to having them in the mornings, though,” A smile tugged at Ingo’s mouth, feeling a little more light-hearted. “Not after having your version; it’s much better than what I remember having. You set the bar way too high. Might even ruin the modern muffin industry if you brought that recipe back with you.”

“Hey!” Akari bumped against Ingo’s side with a laugh, the humorously-worded complement catching her off guard as she leaned against his shoulder. “If you think mine are good, you’ve gotta try the way my mom makes them! Next time she bakes any, I’m making you try them!”

The stark impossibility of that happening in their present situation was lost on them both as Ingo huffed a laugh himself at the offer. Ember even stopped licking up the crumbs left around them to join in and jump up on them, eager to understand the excitement.

Things were better.

“Careful now, I’ll be holding you to that promise then! But until I get that opportunity, I’d say yours are the best.” Ingo wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, his straighter posture showing he was feeling more invigorated as he moved to stand up. “So thank you again very much, Miss Akari. The refuel was…very much needed. My cab is admittedly much better equipped for travel now.”

And truly, he was. As he stretched, Ingo took note of the comfortable weight that had finally settled under his ribs, evicting the aching, irritating hollow that had previously resided there since the day before. It was the first time in several days where anything he had eaten had been able to drive it out completely, instead of sedating it for a bit, he recalled. No more blunt teeth grinding on his sore rib cage, for now. A clearer head and steadier hands were sure to follow.

“And see, we didn’t use it all! I still have some honey left!” Akari said triumphantly as she held up the jar, showing there was still a fair amount of the sweet liquid pooled around the untouched honeycombs, before packing it back into her satchel.

Ingo and Akari made quick work of cleaning up the camp, and packing away the tools of the crafting box. It only took a couple minutes to set everything away, and let Ember back into her pokeball; she would not enjoy the long journey with them on such short legs.

“Now, let us press onward to our next stop,” Ingo moved to the edge of the vacant base camp, waiting for Akari to follow after. “The detour was required, but we can still make up for some lost time if we hurry.”

“I would call Lord Wyrdeer if he could carry us both at the same time,” Akari doused the dying flames with a few handfuls of snow, leaving it looking much like the snowpile it had been when they first arrived. “Then we could get there much faster. Or Lord Braviary, if he didn’t have so much trouble just flying with me.”

Lord Wyrdeer’s big bulky saddle would clearly be unaccommodating to more than one person, already a bit of a snug seat. And Lord Braviary was still quite young, just like his warden. In his adolescence, his still-developing body couldn’t do much more than glide with anything heavier than Sabi. And with Lady Sneasler’s smaller size (and duties to her kits) and Lord Basculegion’s limitations, truly the only available ride pokemon big enough to carry them both was Lord Ursaluna. Unfortunately, his pace was comparable to their own walking speed, more built for digging, and only being able to run in short bursts. It would take him half an hour to even reach Akari’s calls with the flute.

“It is alright,” Ingo reassured her, waiting patiently as she made sure the campfire was thoroughly doused. “Traveling by foot will do just fine.”

Akari took one last look around the vacant base camp - as a survey corps member, it’s important to make sure one leaves the camps more tidy than when they enter them.

Satisfied with the condition of things, she turned to join up with Ingo and head out, ready to traverse along the edge of the highlands. Already missing the heat from the fire, she rubbed her hands together, her fingers chilled pink from throwing snow onto the campfire, to try and retain some warmth.

With luck and a brisk pace, they would make it to Jubilife within the next few hours. And while occasional conversation with Ingo would help things along, that still left a lot of open time for Akari to silently mull over the morning’s events.

Her tense conversation with Ingo may have ended, having been left behind at the basecamp, but Volo’s words clung to the back of her mind as they went on, growing more prominent like a seed that had taken root.

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