#Moving car program in C++

[on-the-clear-blue]

Original idea coming from @the-witchhunter and then added on to by many others.

Dead Man's Diner

---

Danny was tired okay? It may very well be his own damn fault but he can't keep waking up during daylight hours, while yes, he can fully be up and sitting at a desk, the likelihood of him waking up getting shouted at by his boss for sleeping on the job was astounding.

So at 19 years old, freshly jobless, Danny said Fuck it and moved away from Amity Park, Valarie was more than willing to handle the few ghosts that still came through the portal since he became the King.

You might be wondering, why isn't Danny filthy rich and rolling in it as the ghost king? Two words, the Observants.

Those flouting eye bastards had moved in and said that unless he was the king full time, he was unable to access the vaults of the Infinite Realms.

So once again, 19, freshly jobless and wanting to get out of Gotham? Danny was very lucky to have friends that love him far to much, Sam and Tucker both pitched in to move him out to where they had chosen to do collage.

*Gotham* oh Sam was in love with the place, the architecture, the people, (and maybe a certain green supervillian that was determined to make the city better) and Tucker was obsessing over being in the same city as Wayne Enterprises, trying his best to get into their internship program by his own merit rather than just hacking himself into it.

And Danny? He was loving it for a slightly different reason.

While the death rate was unfortunately high in Gotham, that also meant that the amount of passive ectoplasim generated by the deaths was massive, it was almost as rich as back in Amity Park with the portal into the ghost zone!

(Oh and the many job opportunities but Danny was a little less worried about that.)

---

Letting out a sigh, Danny scrubbed at his eyes as he leaned back into his chair, another job he had to turn down due to it being shady as all get out.

4 hours and he was getting payed 200 bucks? Major criminal vibes from that...

Taking a moment to get himself balanced, Danny leaned back and looked to the clunky laptop that Tucker had given him, it was modified to hell and back, so it still ran quickly, but it sure as he'll wasn't pretty.

Clicking on yet another job listing, Danny paused as he felt a shiver run down his spine, and a blue mist pass through his lips, blinking, he twisted around to look at the spare room of Sam's apartment, Ghosts tend not to get close enough to him to trigger the ghost sense in Gotham...

Seeing nothing, Danny turned back to his laptop only to find a piece of paper stuck to the screen with tape, freezing at first, the dark haired man sighed deeply, peeling it off he held it close as he read it.

[Help wanted at Big C's Dinner! Looking for a night cook that knows their way around a kitchen!]

There was a few more lines that Danny's eyes skimmed over, picking up the location that it was at, it even had a decent pay, but he paid more attention to the scribbled on note at the bottom of it.

[Daniel, head to this place at 12 am tonight. While the Observants said that you may not touch a single coin in your vaults, they side nothing of your properties.]

---

So Danny knows how to handle himself, he has fought many, many people and still came out half alive, but even he felt a little on edge coming down to the railroad tracts in Gotham, because apparently that was were Big C's dinner was at...which he apparently owned? Clockwork works in mysterious ways that Danny was so done trying to figure out.

Stepping up to a bit of abandoned tract, he blinked a few times at the site of Big C's.

It was a decent sized Dinning Car, with a ramp that attached itself to a proper street, it had peeling green paint and dirty white accents with charming rusted steel connecting it to the tracts, the only thing new looking on it was a bit banner stretched across it, stating the name "BIG C'S ALL DAY EVERY DAY BREAKFAST CART! OPEN 24/7!"

The windows were close off by tinted yellow blinds, but he could still see light coming through them. Stepping up the ramp Danny felt the cart under him shudder and something inside of him fluttered, and by the time he was opening the door he could feel the reason why.

The very cart was *alive*, taking a quick breath, Danny could practically taste the energy from it, there was a buzzing undercurrent of excitement that rung through the whole cart.

A little unprepared for his, Danny just smiled warily, "Uhh, hey there? Anyone around?" In response to his words the cart shuddered, the blinds dancing up and down and he could hear the squeel of the wheels.

"O-okay then, um my name is Danny Fenton...Clockwork sent me?" There was another flapingnof the blinds, and the small wooden flap that let people into the back lifted up suddenly before clacking down loudly.

Taking a steadying breath, Danny slipped through the bar and into the back.

It was surprisingly clean and orderly, the stove and fryer looked over than his parents but well maintained, the flat top was perfectly scrubbed and was already heating up.

As Danny looked around, he felt a familiar shiver run down his spine, looking around once more, Danny fell into a fighting position as he spotted the figure of a familiar foe

"Lunch Lady? Aren't you a little far from home? What did your order of fist not come in?" The bright rings of light around Danny's waist swirled into life as he went into his ghost form.

He got a thrilling grin from the older apparition, but she only crossed her arms, "While we can tumble later little King, Lord Clockwork sent me personally, said you need a bit of help learning how to cook? And ain't nobody better slinging food than me, dead or alive!"

---

Down in the dripping depths of the cave system deep under Gotham, one Bruce Wayne, still in his Batsuit sat in front of the Bat Computer, eyes glaring at a map of Gotham.

He had been tracking a strange energy pattern that made its way through Gotham, he had first thought it was some sort of layline, but the more that he tracked it the more he realized it was closer to watching a person's walking patterns, sometimes following roads, and sometimes crisscrossing through streets and alleyways.

But tonight that power signal tripled in size, off-putting energy that Bruce hadn't seen it done before, tapping the com on his ear, he spoke clearly "Nightwing, take Red Robin and investigate the coordinates I am sending the both of you, observe it, I just got a massive spike in an energy at that location."

There was silence for a moment before the com crackled and his sons responded "Got it B! Me and RR needed a little time together huh Babybird?"

There was a quiet hum from Tim, before the teen spoke "On route Batman, after this I am heading in, we have a meeting with a suspect in the morning B, Vlad Masters has been poking around Gotham."

[hillbillyoracle]

When cell phones and internet go down...

If you're in one of a myriad of marginalized groups who know they can't count on the government to help them, then this post is for you.

I feel like I'm cramming messages into bottles from my fairly niche interest (radio, emergency comms) and chucking them into the sea of Tumble in the hopes it reaches people it can help. What happened in Spain and Portugal recently and some of the cell outages we've seen in recent years - they're is a great example of why back up communication methods aren't just for doomsday preppers.

If cell phones and internet (and possibly power) went out, how would you communicate in an emergency?

Note: this is geared toward the US. It's where I am and it's all I know.

If I only had ~$25

I'd grab a Beofeng UV-5R ($18-$25) if I thought I might study to get my ham license eventually ($15-$25 test fee + $35 FCC fee),

OR

If I knew I didn't want to test for a ham license and thought I might pay $35 for a GMRS license eventually, I'd pay a little extra up front and get a Beofeng UV-5G plus GMRS radio (~$35)

While this would not allow me to transmit usually, this would allow me to:

call for help in an emergency - the license requirement for transmission is lifted in the event of a genuine emergency

listen to weather frequencies - it will not turn on and give you the alert but if you know bad weather is coming, you can turn it on and listen for alerts as they come in. Weather stations give alerts for a fairly broad area so you'll be able to hear about any significant storms as the move into and through your area.

listen to local repeaters - repeaters, in my experience, are kind of a combination of a megaphone and an internet chat room. You set the frequency and the PL tones (password sounds your radio sends) for the repeater and then you can hear people from much further away. This is one, just fun to listen to on a given day but two, a great way to find out information if your area is experiencing an event but you don't require help. Some even have EAS weather alerts (thought this still won't turn your radio on if it's off in an emergency). Use repeaterbook to look for repeaters in your area and use CHIRP to program them into your radio - tutorials abound.

For ~$15 more you can upgrade the UV-5R to a bigger battery and USB-C charging (UV-5G comes with USB-C charging).

This can be thrown in a go bag if you need to evacuate or your housing is unstable. You can have your handheld radio monitoring a local repeater while you have a car or portable radio listening to commercial or public stations for updates.

If I only had ~$100

I would get a GMRS license ($35) and a Beofeng UV-5G plus (~$35) and a single Meshtastic node (~$25).

If I had a little extra, I'd grab a second Meshtastic node for a roommate, partner, family member or nearby friend.

This would get me the ability to not only monitor frequencies but the ability to talk on them in non-emergency times which would be helpful practice. Some GMRS repeaters have regular "nets" - it's basically a meeting on air where someone invited folks to tell them/radio in their call sign (radio license ID basically) and then they confirm they heard you. This gives you a chance to test your equipment.

The GMRS license covers your family so they can pick up a radio as well and then you'd be able to communicate with them as well (as long as they're close enough; 1-5 miles but varies by terrain, more range if using a repeater). It's not a phone so the conversation would be heard by other people but this is great for wellness checks or a quick check up.

Meshtastics add the ability to text people and share GPS coordinates with people near by - encrypted if you so desire. The range is much less (I've only tested it to about a mile currently though with tweaking more is possible). This adds an important link in your communication plan - asynchronous communication. As long as the device is on and paired and in range, you'll most likely receive a message. It does drop occasionally but that's pretty rare. My nesting partner and I often have to rely on them because the internet and cell signal is so poor up here but they serve us incredibly well for that. Beyond the Emergency Comms use, it's just nice for morale to be able to text during an event. Best part is, if you're in an area were other people have them too, you can bounce your signal further for no additional power.

Past this amount of money, I'd still get my GMRS license and encourage my friends and neighbors who didn't want to study for the ham license to get theirs. Then I'd get my ham license and buy the best handheld I could afford - probably one of the value Yaesu models - so I have several ways to both coordinate among my loved ones and get any needs to a net in the area during a disaster.I'd get and pass out several meshtastic devices to people who were within range that I might want to commincate with. I'd look into back up power for recharging (I like my Jackerys).

Amateur radio is a deep well and this barely touches on it of it. Don't let how vast it is keep you thinking it's too complicated for you. I promise it's not. I'm very much a noob myself but I'm happy answer any questions that I can.

This is part of self care - ensuring you can care for yourself during chaotic events and emergencies to the best of your ability. Even a little bit of preparation can keep something like storm outbreak or power outage from turning harmful or even deadly. Learn what you can. You've got this!

[angeliteria]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒.

pairings — fem!reader and rafe cameron.

summary — after rafe takes your life, he tries to move on, and simply pretends he’s the one who didn’t do so. eventually, hauntings and truths will lay themselves out to remind rafe just how sickening he is.

warning tags — adult language. details of gruesome m*rder & m*rder itself. mentions of DV relationship, (brief) child ab*se & awful parents. talks of religion and god. reader’s pov from heaven (?? just stick w the program). rafe actually going more insane than usual. overall dark content.

author’s note — this is based on and inspired by ethel cain’s song ‘strangers’ and while this song has multiple interpretations to go by, i’m taking mine by the main and common one (just without the c*nnibalism!). this also gets super dark and depressing so if you cannot bear any of it, please click off! this also isn’t revised at all so my apologies for grammar mistakes.

likes, shares & reblogs are very much appreciated ⋆୨୧ ₊ﾟ

you had tears in your eyes, body shaking to point you thought you’d convulse. you tried to be obedient by keeping in rafe’s secret of what he had done on that tarmac. he beat you to make sure you kept your mouth shut for good.

he said, “i’ll kill you if you say one word,” and it took enough fear to believe him, but you didn’t think that day would come.

murder is an evil thing, and everyone can attest to it. rafe murdered sheriff peterkin as if she was nothing, as if she was a problem in the way. bad enough, he let john b. routledge — one of your best friends — take the fall for it.

you continued to keep your mouth shut, but after rafe tried to invade the police, ward killing himself, you didn’t see a reason to keep quiet. ward was the only reason why rafe could stay out of prison, and now that he wasn’t around, you could speak.

your father preached every sunday to live by righteousness and good, to never let evil win.

rafe was that evil. he was the devil himself.

the devil that you danced with, let make love to you, kiss you, but also beat you until stars twinkled in your vision, and your breath kept getting caught in your throat.

your mother would be horrified to know that, your father too. but it was their fault in a way that you accepted this cruelty as love; your father, especially to blame.

if love is not meant to be hit at you, does it even exist? your father showed you that when he’d slap or punch you for falling out of line, but go to church the next day, and preach about being a good servant to god.

you wanted all evil out of your life. it was suffocating, it was drowning you.

rafe had to be eliminated first.

“you killed peterkin, and i’m tired of knowing it,” you said, picking up your car keys. “we are done, and i won’t even show up to your trial when you go down for it.”

rafe just stared at you appalled and puzzled, sitting on the edge of his bed. you were close to being far out enough to your car until strong, violent hand seized you.

you screamed and kicked, not being new to this routine, only knowing that he was going to harm you.

you could never predict that his violence would lead him to murdering you.

“let me go, rafe!” you screamed, being pulled inside, your pleas and cries echoing in the empty home.

expecting to be physically berated, you were being led downwards.

to the wine cellar basement.

and for once in a while, you prayed to god, and hoped he would finally listen to you this time. that he would save his child, and perform a miracle.

but a miracle never came as rafe manhandled you, pinning you down on the cement ground of the basement.

“shut the fuck up! stop crying!” he yelled, a solid punch coming to your cheek, and you yelped, an easy gush of blood rushing out of your mouth. “you’re a fuckin’ backstabber. after everything i’ve done for you, gonna treat me like that?”

you cried, shaking your head. “r—rafe, please! i’ll be good, i’ll stop!”

“don’t trust you, little one. can’t let you ruin everything,” rafe said, reaching for something out of his back pocket.

the more you fought back, the more angry he got; the more you fueled the fire that rested in his hands and body.

before you could let out another plead, a sharp pain was made into your abdomen.

rafe stabbed you — and he wasn’t planning on stopping there.

god wasn’t there. you would show up to his gates in this condition, and ask him why he let it happen. if god is real, why did he bear witness instead of saving you?

rafe doesn’t recall killing you.

he remembers grabbing, and dragging you down into wine cellar basement, but couldn’t be able to tell anyone what happened after that. all he knows your blood was quite literally on his hand, knife shaking in his grip.

your babydoll white dress was now stained with violence and scarlet red blood.

the sight should’ve made him sick, but it didn’t. he just stared at you, breathing heavy, and it didn’t strike him until a while later that he had killed you.

rafe cameron had killed the love of his life.

he only panicked when it came to how to dispose your body, take off any evidence that could trace back to him. he was more than willing to dump your body in the woods, let any gators eat at you for supper.

he tossed your body only hours later in the depths of the woods, and it didn’t take long until you were reported missing.

of course, he was questioned first. it was easy for him to play the concerned boyfriend, crying because he also hadn’t heard from you, saying he had been texting and calling you for hours.

your parents sobbed on the news and asking anyone to come forward with any information, that they’ll give up however much money for their child to come home.

rafe just stared numbly at the television screen, a cup of scotch in his hand.

your best friends, the pogues, sobbed for days, and even started a search party for you. rafe made sure to dig you levels down in those woods when the ground was wet enough to dig up, and cover you up.

sarah cameron had a feeling her brother had something to do with your ‘disappearance’ but it was only just a gut intuition, she couldn’t prove it. she always questioned why you got with her brother, always emphasizing how horrible and violent he was, but you would tell her, “you don’t know him like i do; you don’t know how much he loves me, and takes care of me.”

kiara knew how bad rafe was — for god sake, she momentarily went to the academy around the same time he was a senior. she knew he wasn’t destined to be a boyfriend, let alone even in a fucking relationship.

the boys of the group were beyond furious, the three wanting to round up and take ahold of rafe, beat some information out of him. but they knew you wouldn’t want that, and that rafe would easily get the police to arrest them.

however, months passed, and you slowly became a memory to not only the town, but to rafe himself. he went on with his days like nothing occurred, that he didn’t violently take the life of his girlfriend.

you weren’t on his mind anymore, and he didn’t have to worry about you anymore.

or so he thought.

karma and revenge go hand in hand together; they mingle and burst out, they make sure they arrive at the doorstep of the people who deserve it.

rafe always thought getting rid of you would avoid his downfall, but the murder of you was just the beginning of it all.

he slept peacefully like he had done for a while now, with him about to drown into a deep sleep. he rested with his hands laid atop of his stomach, comfortable and at solitude, a female whisper woke him up.

he peeked around, but saw no one. he assumed he was just sleep deprived and imagining things, his eyes closing again for sleep.

“do you feel sick yet?” the voice that sounded like yours came through, more clearer and visible. he shot up, and turned on his bedside lamp.

nothing. no one. not you.

why would he have to feel sick? you were gone, you were no longer a problem.

rafe shook it off, and was able to go back to sleep.

you were angry in the afterlife. you stared at rafe from heaven, trembling with rage and regret. a man you once loved, had acted as if you never existed. you adored him, and he disposed you like garbage.

you just wanted to be his, wanted him to tell you that you were his only; that he loved you as much as you did to him, that he would change and better himself for you.

that the violence would dissipate, and his rough hands would be nurtured with love and softness.

but no. that never came, and never would.

you were taunted by your murder, burning with the need to remind rafe of how sick he was.

your violent lover let you bleed before him, and without tending to your wounds or simply sitting with immediate regret, he soaked in his actions and dismissed it.

why couldn’t he be gentle? was him painting you blue and purple not enough? did he have to go as far as killing his lover to satisfy the disdain and vexation he held for you?

was that enough? was that enough to make you enough?

rafe’s nights slowly turned interrupted and sleepless. your voice was always there, and time to time, he thought he saw you standing in his bedroom, drenched in blood and with tears streaming down your face as you kept asking him, “do you feel sick yet?”

sick. not regretful. fucking sick.

sleep deprivation was catching up to him, making him more mean and angry than usual, more out of control.

the coke wasn’t even helping either, only making everything worse.

he was at barry’s trailer, snorting endless lines of the white powder, trying to shake off the sight of you from last night.

“country club, you good?” barry asked, and rafe didn’t respond. “you don’t seem well, bro.”

“just need this shit, okay?” rafe mumbled, separating another drop of cocaine. “just… just want to sleep, need it.”

barry didn’t want to push him with more questions, minding his own business as the blond haired boy snorted up excessive amounts of lines.

rafe ended falling asleep on his couch, barry mindlessly scrolling on his own phone as he laid down on his bed.

the cold air from the air conditioner ran around in the basement, making it more freezing and chilling than usual.

rafe could smell strawberry perfume, indicating you were around. he looked around, and saw nothing of you.

“where are you!” he screamed. “you can’t scare me, you bitch!”

“i’m not here to scare you,” you talked, rafe spinning around to find you perched in the corner of the basement. you careened closer, the dim light emphasizing on your mangled body.

rafe stared at your stomach, where immense stab wounds laid on it. he swallowed thickly, his breath shaking and jagged.

“do you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe looked up at you. he couldn’t move in this dream, he was paralyzed and a witness to your lacerated body.

nausea and despair washed over rafe, almost consuming him entirely.

you were finally face to face with him, your hair disheveled and bunched, face stained with tears and runny makeup, all for him to look at.

rafe could feel your physical touch, your soft hand grabbing his, and made his palm touch your abdomen. he almost fucking threw up.

you could see it, you could see he was wanting to vomit everywhere. “am i making you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe shivered, forcing his hand to put more pressure on your stomach, blood rushing out onto it. “am i making you feel sick?”

rafe screamed and lurched up, his eyes opening and alarming barry. “woah, what the fuck, rafe!” barry shouted, and rafe breathed rapidly, his heart thumping against his chest, a need to vomit.

rafe brought his face into his hands, trying to shake everything out of his hand.

your face, your touch, your blood — he felt it all. he was being reminded of you, when he didn’t want to.

barry kept asking him what was wrong, why he was crying, if he was okay, but all rafe could focus on was your voice asking, “am i making you feel sick?”

he was no longer immune to his destruction. he was becoming infected by it. you were a disease that he couldn’t treat, a parasite that ate at his brain.

he would never get rid of you — and you would make sure that he never did.

it was month seven without you, and you became a faded name to the outer banks. the only people who lived on to tell your name was your parents, and your best friends. the pogues carved your name into the chateau’s tree, a ceremonial bench placed at the high school.

your body or you weren’t ever discovered, but the police had listed you as deceased. you weren’t a runaway, you were eighteen, and had nothing to runaway for. when you couldn’t be traced anywhere on the grid, the police pronounced you dead, and that was that.

pictures of you and any sort of evidence remained in a cardboard box somewhere in the police station. you were left to rot in every way.

you were tired of being forgotten, but more exhausted that nobody knew that your boyfriend did this, and you probably weren’t going to be the first girl he killed.

rafe cameron needed to know what he did, and you wanted to do everything you could to make him drag himself to the police station, sit down, and say, “i killed her — and i enjoyed every fucking second of it.”

madness was becoming rafe. he was already an insane, depraved fuck before, but the lack of sleep and memories of the murder were catching up to him for good.

dark circles were around his eyes, hair greasy and messy, his body tired. he felt like he was going to snap any second.

he kept drinking, smoking weed and doing coke back to back, surprised that his heart didn’t give out yet.

a random exhaustion toll pushed over him, laying him down on the floor of his bedroom, and his eyes threatened to snap shut.

he didn’t want to sleep, he was afraid to. he was afraid to see you, with your bloody dress and sad face, making him touch your wounds.

rafe didn’t win the fight of sleeping, and he knocked out cold on his bedroom floor.

he wasn’t in the basement, he was in his bedroom, and he could hear your feet padding away to the front of the house, to your car.

oh, he was reliving the night. and he couldn’t stop. he couldn’t get out of the memory — he was facing everything.

he saw you bloody by his doorframe, and you tilted your head. “why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice sounding as if he was trapped in a void.

you only frowned. “so you know.”

like a reflex, rafe hurriedly rushed over to you outside before you could get away, seizing you away, and taking you to the basement.

he pinned you down to the ground, and screamed at you to stop crying, upset and angry you were willing to betray him when he did everything for you.

you were sobbing, but it became echoes and his ears rang, everything around him becoming silent except his own heavy breathing. he grabbed the knife that sat in his pocket, and he could see your eyes widen with fear to the sight of the object.

“rafe!” you screamed in the first stab. he hit you sharp and right in the abdomen.

he held his knife there for a second, like time was freezing him, and he felt a hot breath at the side of his face.

it was you.

“am i making you feel sick?” you asked, and rafe proceeded to stab you as you sobbed. you cried out his name, trying to fight away the knife, promising to be good and for him to stop.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

rafe couldn’t stop, he couldn’t control himself. he kept stabbing you as you screamed. he was a monster, with the inability to suppress his anger or violence.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

another stab.

“am i making you feel sick?”

a part you thought you were making him feel sick because of how mutilated your body was; that the body he was once desired, was now filling him with disgust. you wondered if how butchered you looked, was making him uncomfortable and sick. he didn’t deserve your concern, but it happened anyway. was it making him sick?

rafe wanted to cry, but couldn’t. he was revisiting the person he was in this moment, and could see life vanish from your eyes, death taking you away.

he took one last stab, and held it there like the first one. you kneeled in front of him, looking over at your corpse for a moment before your eyes settled into his raging ones.

he held prolonged eye contact with you as you inched your face close to his, but kept a safe distance. you placed your hand on top of his murdering one, and with a blank face, lastly asking him, “am i making you feel sick?”

rafe broke eye contact with you to look at your deceased body, and realized and remembered this murder. your organs could be nearly seen, blood gushed and poured out everywhere, your body cold and still.

he dropped the knife, and eyed you. “i’m sorry.”

you shook your head, and sighed. “you will revisit this everyday as long as you live,” you said, sniffling. “all i wanted was to be yours, and be good enough, rafe. was i no good?”

he didn’t have an answer, and with that, you got up, staring over at your body. “i want you to know,” you chuckled softly to yourself, “i never blamed you for loving me the way that you did. i forgive you, especially since i’m happier where i’m at.”

“heaven?” rafe asked.

you nodded. “you won’t make it here, but i’ll still hope and wait that you do — because i love you too much to let god be angry with you too.”

“he’s an angry man?”

“he’s angry and unfair,” you responded. “like someone i know. i loved god, i loved you; two men who didn’t view me as much, who don’t deserve for me to believe in them.”

rafe went quiet, and enough time went by for you to disappear for good to let rafe cry, and scream. he cried and sobbed, dry heaving as he vomited everywhere to the sight of you.

he killed you, and as long as he kept it to himself, you would drive him mad and insane with the knowing of it.

rafe cameron confessed to your murder only hours later. he drove himself to the police station, and confessed to every detail, telling sheriff shope where your body was.

they found your maimed body in the exact location where rafe told them it was, your body already decomposing into near bones, eaten by critters and bugs.

the earth was consuming you.

he was hated forever, the town wanted him torched or given the death penalty. it would be a while until he got a trial.

your funeral could be proper with your body in a casket, given a rightful way to be down in the ground, protected and secured by a box stuffed with silk fabric.

you could see your mom cry, and you wish she wouldn’t. your father had to give the prayer at your funeral, your best friends sobbing, and hating themselves for not getting you away from rafe sooner.

however, your death was simply inevitable. if rafe didn’t kill you, your love for him would. he was everything to you.

even when he was murdering you — getting a vile satisfaction from it — you were worried about him, if you and your maimed body was making him feel more nauseous and sick than the actual murder was.

rafe would live with the knowing that you truly loved him, and he took your life every single day that he spent in a prison block cell.

and your ghost would continue to linger and haunt him, never letting him know peace and serenity as he never did to you.

[pforestsims]

Tutorial: How to adjust joint position (in TS2 object skeleton)

This tut is NOT meant for beginners because I don't explain how to use SimPe or Milkshape. But actual process is very basic: you change joint coordinates and do GMDC model rebuild. The tricky part is to get coordinates right.

If you don't know much about joint assignments, start with this tutorial: "Retaining object animations in your new package" by Bluetexasbonnie @ MTS2, which explains how to add joint assignments to custom stuff cloned from functional objects (to make parts of the mesh move when Sims interact with it).

The pic above: SimPe GMDC skeleton preview. You can click on each joint name to see which part is assigned to it. Gate is here.

This will work for simple object skeletons without IK Bones.

There are no plugins that would allow us to properly import TS2 CRES skeleton data with IK bones - like sims, pets and more - to any 3D program

If object has IK Bones - you'll find out when importing CRES to Milkshape. If it displays a notification "joints with rotation values found...", IK Bones are present and there's a high risk that skeleton: A. will not be imported. B. if it's imported, it will get mangled. C. will be mangled after using model rebuild option.

I've experimented with car skeletons (those have IK Bones), managed to edit car door joints but it required removing wheel bone assignments - because wheel movement becomes wonky after doing model rebuild

/FYI: steps 1 - 5 are optional, you can edit CRES joint coordinates right away if you know the right values - which is usually not the case/.

Export GMDC with your custom mesh

Export CRES (if you wish to preview entire skeleton and/or joint names)

Import GMDC to Milkshape

Import CRES (if you need it. Plugin is called: Sims2 AniMesh CRES Skeleton Import. Click 'yes' to 'replace all bones?'). You should be able to see entire skeleton imported. Note that Milkshape won't let you export a GMDC after you imported CRES skeleton unless you change joint comments (point 7.)

Measure how much you need to move the joint. You can create a box as ruler substitute, then check the distance with extended manual edit plugin. If you're not sure where to place your joint, you can move it and test if object animations look alright (import CRES again to reset joint position).

tip: when working on GMDC in Milkshape you can rename the model parts in model list (door right, door left etc). Only names inside the model comments actually get exported.

6. Go back to SimPe, open CRES resource. Remember TS2 is using flipped coordinates: X = -X, -X = X, Y = Z, Z = Y. Edit joint Translation data, commit, save.

Optional: you can export CRES skeleton again and import to Milkshape to test if joint has moved to the right position.

7. Go to GMDC, Model tab - hit rebuild, commit, save.

if you have the edited object placed on a lot, it's gonna look weird when you load the game. You need to re-buy it from catalogue to see results.

If for some reason you'd like to export entire GMDC with your imported CRES skeleton, Milkshape won't let you do that. You'll get "ERR: No quaternion values stored" error. You need to go to Joints tab and edit each Joint comment to ImpQuatDat: (that's imp, with capital i )

Notes:

if you go to GMDC Joints tab, there's also a rebuild option to update single joint - but I've tried it on car door joints and it didn't work.

If you edit joint coordinates in CRES, for example- move the car door forward, and preview skeleton in GMDC viewer, your model is gonna look fine. But in the game every vertex assigned to that joint will also be moved forward. That's why you need to use model rebuild option. In theory, if you'd like to skip rebuild, you could import GMDC to milkshape and move the door backwards to compensate for joint adjustments? I haven't tried that (yet).

[honeyjars-sims]

My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024🎉

Thank you @lynzishell for tagging me! This was very hard--so much happened in my story this year! I will tag @tipsy-clouds, @beachyserasims, @feroshgirlsims, and @miss-may-i if you'd like to participate!

January

Chapter 2 started off on a high note. Love was in the air...certainly nothing could go wrong 😬 Chantal, Johnny, and Cece were all experiencing the thrill of new romances, but only one couple would survive the year.

February

While Nico's mask was starting to slip, Johnny and Lexie also hit a bump in the road on their trip to GraNITE Falls (which I totally know the name of and didn't make a bunch of graphics with the completely wrong name on them...nope, not me). At least Johnny and Lexie ended the month on a high note, right? RIGHT?

March

I really put poor Johnny through it in March, didn't I? Not long after unexpectedly coming face to face with the man who made his childhood a living hell, Johnny ended up in tears again when Lexie revealed she was a lesbian and ended their relationship.

April

Revenge is delicious and Chantal was ready to eat! And eat she did. She turned the tables on Nico and Ambrose after agreeing to testify on their behalf in court, only to show up on the stand in support of the prosecution. Later, David prepared to leave for Drag Superstar, feeling uncertain about how his family would fare without him as Chapter 2 drew to a close.

May

I took a break as I prepared for Chapter 3.

June

I took a chance and started off Chapter 3 with a flash-forward to Johnny's future wedding day with a mystery spouse. Followed by going back to the present day where Carina and Skyla finally reached him about his car's extended warranty entertained him after a night at the club.

July

Johnny continued to make questionable life choices until David finally laid down the law, leading Johnny to a new job as a Production Assistant at Rainy Day Entertainment. He met his new boss, Lucy, and they became fast friends. Also, he got the cutest cat ever named Taco.

August

I built a motherfuckin mountain. I sent everyone to the mountain, then I photoshopped the shit out of the view from the mountain. Actually I finished the mountain earlier in the year...I spent many hours building and demolishing and rebuilding it while my personal life fell apart around me. And, like this mountain, I will build it back up. This is where Johnny met Lucy's brother Paul, which turned out to be a pretty big deal. Also, bonus pics of the moment PJ met in the game (in this timeline at least):

Wow they're in love

Later, Johnny was in for a surprise when he discovered the students joining the team for a new program were none other than Lexie and her friends. Awkward!

September

While things continued to be awkward between Johnny and Lexie, he got closer to his red herring co-worker Lacey. Meanwhile, Cece and Ben made time for each other the best that the could while he was on the road.

October

October was all about Drag Superstar! We followed David, aka Valerie Galloway, on his journey as a contestant. From the highs of winning the girl group challenge ("Guess I'll C-U-N-Tartosa!") to the lows of being eliminated when the stress became too much to bear, it was a wild ride!

November

November was the month of big reveals. In Drag Superstar, Lady Astrid was crowned the winner! Cece and Ben got engaged and Chantal quit school to pursue her dreams. Things began looking up for Johnny, who finally mended his friendship with Lexie and was thriving at work. After his dads decided to move to a smaller house, Johnny started on a journey of his own as he moved to a new community with a roommate, Paul...oh, and I revealed that Paul is the one who Johnny will eventually marry! Sorry, Lacey.

December

While I set up for Chapter 4, I've been having fun doing some gameplay. Johnny and Paul are getting closer and Taco is letting the world know that she will not be ignored.

This year has honestly been one of the hardest in my life, but I don't think I could have gotten through it without this hobby and this community. It means more than you'll ever know. I've been more quiet this year but my goal for 2025 is to be more interactive.

I'm so excited for another year of sharing this story and seeing everything that this community has to offer. Also I'm super pumped thinking about what the top 25 screenshots for 2025 will be like, because I have a feeling they're going to be some of the most fun yet!

[lilsocksiswriting]

Academic Weapon Chapter Five

Summary:

You were like a lot of humans, born with just enough curse energy to see curses but not enough power to do anything. Your greed has helped you hold in the Jujustu Sorcery program. it is this same greed that tends to blind you to the danger you are in.

Sukuan sees you as a weak pretty thing that he can hold a conversation in his class. This is what he tells him to do he falls for you, his student because the curse refuses to believe this is love.

Oh, then there is the murder.

Characters: Reader, Ryomen Sukuna, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto,Ieiri Shoko, Iori Utahime,

Pairings: Sukuna X Fem!Reader

Tags: College AU, Professor X Student, Modern Fantasy AU, NSFW

warmings: no beta lol

Notes:

.... I am so sorry for not keeping my schedule. I did not think moving, working, and going to school would make me feel so drained. And the stress acne! But anyway, here it is. I do not want to keep you all waiting. No beta and if you would like you can visit my Ko-Fi where I'm going to start posting snippets of new chapters and ideas.

Chapter Four || Chapter six || Ko-fi || Masterlist

“I need a treat,” you decided as you and Mei-Mei step out of your curse weaponry class the same day as your most recent visits to Sukuna’s office hours. You and Mei-Mei are currently following a crowd of other students down the staircase of the Jujitsu Tech Building.

Mei-Mei nods, ”A celebration is in order. Most don’t make such a good grade in Sukuna’s classes right off the bat.”

You let Mei-Mei think that is why you want something sweet as you pull your phone from your back pocket.

 As the two of you make your way across the first floor to the doors of the building you suggest, “I’m thinking of the sweet shop off campus?”

“ Sounds perfect.”

The sweet shop a few blocks off campus remains open until the wee hours of the morning because of its proximity to bars and the university. As you and Mei-Mei Walk you send off your text to the group chat to see who else wants to go.

You let Mei-Mei think that the B on your first essay was why you need something sweet. You just had a day. A day in which you found out your professor, the King of Curses has the hots for you. Not only that but that knowledge turns you on. Like a lot.

 So, you plan to drown yourself in sweets until you get sick. Then you will be too preoccupied to think about what the King of Curses thinks of your body.

After a relatively quiet walk, the two of you eventually come to the crosswalk across from the sweet shop. You jam your thumb on the button and wait for the other sign on the other side of the street to turn green. From here you can see the unmistakable top of snowy white hair. Gojo had not yet reopposed in the group chat, but it is not unusual for the man to frequent the sweet shop. Something about sugar and the brain. What is unusual is the identical pure white head of hair beside him.

“Mei-Mei am I seeing two Gojos?”

The taller woman squints her eyes. Before she can get a good look at what you are seeing, a constant stream of cars and trucks blocks your view. By the time the crosswalk turns green the other Gojo is gone leaving your Gojo standing outside looking down at this phone with pinched brows.

“Hey!” you wave your arm high grabbing the man’s attention as you jog across the crosswalk.

 You look up and down the sidewalk but do not see the tall man’s doppelganger. There is just Gojo and the bright smile that is plastered across his face. His eyes though remain hidden under his rounded shades.

“ Hey y/n! heard you made a B in Sukuna’s class. Our little overachiever.” He ruffled your head like a proud dad. You pout and smooth your hair back down. You already have one of those and do not need another.

“Thanks, you were your twin?.”

“Oh, no one special, just some family,” he says trying to wave it off.

“Clan business?”

“Ugh,” he makes, “ please no more of the C or B word. I’ve heard enough of that for the day.”

“Oh, poor you,” Mei-Mei mocked.

You know how this will end but you ask anyway, “You  know you  vent to us Gojo.”

Gojo, a grown-ass man near six feet pouts like a child,” If you two are goanna tease me I won’t buy you any sweets.”

So just straight up ignored me that time, you grind your teeth.

“Oh?” Mei-Mei lulls her lead to one side with a sly smile. “Then consider the subject forgotten.”

You go along with it as well. You do like free things. You also know what will happen if you try and push Gojo. He will become even more distant and closed off. The more you push the higher his walls will be. You could never win with him.

 But you cannot help but pit your friend who is in the middle of ordering a large slice of cake. Family drama on top of a murder had to be rough. You make a note to text Geto about it. He is the closest the Gojo out of your group so in times when Gojo was acting like everything was fine or totally under control because he was the strongest it was Geto who could get him to let down the façade.

----

“You look sick, are you hungover?” was the first thing you the head librarian asked after you walked into work at the Curse Collections for your Tuesday morning shift.

“Worse, I ate like whole cake last night,” you answer gravely.

The elderly woman laughed, a glint of fangs being shown in the overhead light’s glow. She used to be a grade 2 sorcerers who used cursed energy to manipulate her body. She could grow fangs, claws, bone spurs,  and anything else she could use to tear a curse apart. The only evidence of her past profession can be seen in her sharp canines and pointed, bony fingers.

“Then you get to be on reshelving duty. I’ll have someone cover the front desk,” she says pointing one of her thin fingers at your chest.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Reshelving is a task you are used to and do not really mind as it affords you the luxury of reading materials without going through the pesky process of filling out a form and then waiting for a student worker like yourself to pull it.

Plus, this gave you unsupervised and unlimited access to the restricted Noritoshi collection, two long shelves tucked away in a back corner of the library. Because the collection was once in possession of such an infamous sorcerer, many patrons did not like to be seen researching the maternal. Besides to even be granted access to the collection one would have to have the head Liberians permission. Orrrr,  one could just be a student worker and just happen to cross by while on her way to shelve books and happen to take a gander.

Professor Sukuna has briefly mentioned the name of an author who was one of the first sorcerers who studied incantation. After some digging around in the library's online database you managed to find the one book the university had of the author’s

After you clear a cart worth of books you take a small break and slip off to the Noritoshi collection. Your docs make a soft thud against the wooden floors as you take one step at a time. such an old floor creaks under your weight in certain spots as you move along the row. Right between 234.5  and 234.7 where the small booklet should be safely shelved there in an empty spot.

 Your stomach drops. Of the few patrons out in the open reading room, none of them had requested anything to be pulled from this collection and because this was a special branch of the university’s library system no one was allowed to check out a book from here. You feel cold but flushed. Panicked. You immediately think that this was your fault. That you got the numbers mixed up again.

you make your way back to the L-shaped front desk where another student worker is typing away at their laptop. When things were as slow as they were today you all could work on classwork or at least look like you are.

 “Make you all look busy,” the head librarian expiated back during your freshman year.

 “Umm, Hey.”

You are met with a board  star, “What?”

 “We’re missing a book from the Noritoshi Collecting,” you supply.

 “So?” they scrunch their button nose as if you just asked the most bothersome question.

  “So,” you are crossing your arms. “that’s not a good thing.

 “Then go ask the old lady, it’s probably just missed filed.”

God, I hate freshmen.

And that is exactly what you do because since you do a majority of the reshelving the thought that you were the one that misfiled the book gnaws at your gut makes the need to correct it grow.

The door to her office which was on the other side of the reading room was closed meaning that she was with someone at the moment so you had to wait.

You have worked yourself into such a knot that you nearly jump out of your skin when the office door finally opens. At first, you mistake the polite-looking person who steps out as a Gojo, but no Gojo would dare dye the snow-white hair with a splash of red or grow it out to a bob.

 “Oh,” they smile at you with a hint of spores in their voice, “So you Y/N.”

 “Um-“ you noticed the book help to the person's slick dress shirt and your mind short citrus with relief. So, you had not misfiled it. Thank God. “Y-yes. Did the head Liberian tell you?”

Said elderly woman walking bout behind them and scoffs, “You ain’t got no business in our meeting.”

“Sukuna has mentioned you,” they supply.

“Oh?” something warm makes your heart pump faster.

“What do you want?” the head librarian demands.

“Oh! I was just concerned that a book from the Noritoshi collection but I see that it was just pulled, sorry I should have checked the pulled forms from this-“

“I’m actually checking this out for Lord Sukuna.”

You have to put on your best helpful smile and pay very close to your tone when you ask, “I’m sorry, checking out?”

The stranger hums in confirmation, “Yes he has special permission to do so.”

He has what. When? Does he even use it? why now-oh that son of a bitch!

“Well now that you can see the damn thing is safe and sound get back to shelving,  the head Liberian order and you have to agree. But you swear you see the white and red-haired stranger pressing their lips together like they are trying to suppress a giggle.

---

When you finally get off you are still fuming. It was not even that Sukuan had checked out the book you wanted to look at for your next essay. It was more of an accumulation if things had been piling up way before the semester started. This was just the unassuming crack that broke the damn.

The walk from the Curse Collections to Sukuna’s office is a short one because of you fast you are walking. Your mind can barely keep up with you and your blood boiling.

You were just fed up with no one telling you anything, everything seeing you as weak, everyone having already made up their mind that you would either drop out or die before graduation, and people like Sukuna taking away your education.

You do not notice the few odd looks you get as you storm through the first floor of the library then up two flights of stairs and finally down the empty hallway where Sukuna’s office is.

Your mind still clouded by anger has not quite caught up to you as you barge into his office without knocking. You did not even check if he had office hours today.

“What the hell was that?”

Sukuan actually looks like you managed to catch him off guard. He knew his plan would work, but he did not expect you to be so red, sweaty, and out of breath as anger sparks in your eyes. He calms himself before you notice.

Taking his silence as more of an insult you go on, “You wanted me back in your office so bad you took that book, which could and probably will affect my grade on your essay? Are you expecting to hold that book if I make a lesser grade? What? Do you think I’m not cut out for the program? Do you think I’m too weak to know about work or curses? This is real low for some ‘King’.”

Sukuna’s face remains calm and impassive as he simply commends,” Calm. down.”

And that is all it takes for all that bite and bravado to just, poof.

Fuck. shit. I’m going to die. He’s gonna eat me.

Sukuna feels somewhat pleased. He takes a good look at your form standing in front of the closed office door. A trembling little thing in that long skirt and your maroon button-up blouse.

“Oh? What happened to all that bite ?” he teased. “You practically shaking with your tail tucked between your legs now lie a puppy.”

 “I’m just- people have just been –“ you bumble  to form  a complete sentence, “I didn’t know you could just check out books.”

Sukuan hums like the privilege was a boring subject, “It’s one for their little attempts to keep me in line.”

 “Oh,” is all you can come up with.

“Now,” he leans his formers against the top of the desk. The way his sleeves are rolled up escapes your notice as you watch him lick his lips.

Oh god, what if he actually wants to eat me?

 “I’ll excuse your huffiness, but I will not excuse this noting that I feel so threatened by you to stoop to such means. I merely wanted you to hear because you keep cowering away from your arousal.

You have nothing to say back because he is right. You feel shameful for lusting after your professor like this. For feeling so horny for a curse, the King of curses. So instead of opening your mouth and saying something stupid you take a seat across from Sukuna’s desk.

“I’m glad, “ you begin,” that you would never do that. They are people who already think I’m stepping with you to pass this class and hate it because it is undermining all the work I put in. “

Sukuna stay silent while you gather your thoughts.

“And, If the higher-ups found out I was sleeping with one of my professors that’s all the excuse they need to kick me out of the program. I’m sure there already not happy with  such a low grade like me in a program with limited  spots.”

Sukuna took some stock of that. These damn modern times made things so much more complicated, but mostly he points out, “So you do want me.”

Your mouth opens then shut then opens again. Sukuna must find the way you mimic a fish out of water funny because a low chuckle rumbles from his broad chest.

The curse likes you like this/ Just like he likes you in any way that is near him.

“Hey! This book is centuries old, you can't just toss it around like that,” you scold the curse without thinking.

 “Read what you like then we will talk,” Sukuan tells you, his attention already on a few ungraded papers at the edge of his desk.

You still feel the urge to argue but think better of it. You were already behind schedule because he had Uraume take the book before you could have a look at it.

Sukuna picks up an ink pen and pretends to grade a paper. He watched as you rifle through your book bad for a notebook and pen. You are skin the pages before returning to a certain section of the book while jotting down notes. It occurs to him that he has never seen you use a laptop or tablet in class. Instead choosing to use that notebook to franticly write down all your notes. This observation is filed away for later because all he can think about is finally having your soft fleshed seated in front of him and all for himself.

Once you are done you put your things back into your book bag and return the book safely to Sukuna’s desk. You then take a step back, your body fidgeting, telling you that it is time to run away again.

 “Stay there,” Sukuan orders sitting down his pen and rising to his feet.

You do as told again but only because the way the curse looks at you, like he wants to do more than eat you now, pins you in your place.

“My, my,” Sukuan slides between you and his desk. He towers over you and is so close you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. “So obedient…..or is it that you scared?”

“O-oh I am downright terrified right now.”

 The smirk seems to widen, “Good that’s exactly how I want you.”

Oh, that is so hot to hear.

            A pair of hands settle on your hips as Sukuna asks, “And what about me has you so scared?”

             Feeling his fingers flex and your long skirt start to ride up with your legs you squeak,  “Y-you look like you want to eat me.”

            “I would love a taste,” Sukuna admits.

Your reaction is priceless. He wonders if you actually think he wants to eat you. he has tasted human flesh in the past but it was more so an intimidating tactic than actual substance. He gathers up more of your skirt the fabric now rising above your thighs.

The thought of you poring over texts of his past atrocities biting that bottom lip and learning all you could about him like he was your obsession runs through his mind. Cute. He thinks.

“ I’m going to make you fuck yourself on my fingers then lick them clean. So,  hold your dress.”

For the first time since you stormed not his office, you do not obey his command. You just stare up at the curse who seems to not hold an ounce of shame for what he just said. And after a moment, neither do you.

Sukuan notices how it takes you a little longer but you do as told. With shaking fingers, you take your skirt from his hands. Sukuan wants you. He wanted to get you back in his office to do unholy things to you, not because he thought it was too weak to be here.

“That’s good,” his light praise sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

Sukuna brushes his knuckles across your inner thigh. They are just as he fantasizes they would be. Smooth, warm, and pliable. Your skin will be so easy to bruise and you would probably love his marks here where you can easily hide them.

You barely register spreading your legs a little wider to accommodate the back of your professor’s hand.

“Eager to aren’t ya?” he teases.

You look up at him, and oh what sight you are! Flush cheeks and needy eyes. “I feel like either answer I give will result in more teasing.”

“Think you’re so smart,” He meanly pinches the vulnerable flesh, “But I want an honest answer. Do you want this?”

 Oh, you feel stupid for not expecting that for the King of Curses to ask for consent. Something warm drips from your stomach to your pussy. For such a powerful and dark being with a reputation for being ruthless and cold, the notion of asking for consent makes you feel safe and special.

Sukuna tells himself that he only asks to get you to come back for more even if the question came out before he even thought of the idea.

 You nod,” I want you to touch me.”

Sukuan knuckle slides further up. His eyes darken as his knuckles press into the damp spot in your silk panties. You were already gone for him. He wonders just when that happens. Was it when he commanded you to calm down? Or, when he told you how he wants to make you cum from his fingers?

“You wet already,” he comments making your cheeks burn, “I guess you don’t have to tell me how eager you are. Your body does that for you.”

Sukuan presses the pads of fingers into the spot and rubs small, quick circles. You feel a tremor of pleasure rocket through you. That felt good. Such a small action over your panties makes you gush. You are done for. The curse has barely done anything and you already losing it.

“o-oh,” you moan

 “Feels good?”

 “Yes.”

 “Then you can do it yourself now,” His fingers are still and you have to bite back a groan.

You attempt to do as told,  rolling your hips against his finger. The friction is there, but you just can't seem to move the right way. You pout, so close to letting out a wine because it is not right. You are not enough to get you off like Sukuan was doing and he can see this.

 He finds this cute too. It is an obvious fact you do not know what you are doing and what that means. Sukuan has found himself a cute human whose a genius, someone worth his time, who captures his attention, and who makes his dick hard. He can feel the wetness seeping through your panties and spreading over his fingertips.

 “Are you fond of these?”

 “ Not re-really I guess? They are an old pair, but I can jus-oh fuck!”

You lean into him needing something firm. Your legs feel shaky You can feel the dark chuckle that rumbled from Sukuna’s chest. He ripped your paints! The quickness and strength that Sukuan possessed to rip the fabric so cleanly from his body like nothing was exciting. You only register that they had been torn off by the ripping sound and the cool air against your bare pussy.

 Sukuna tucks the ruined pair into his back pocket for later then retunes his eager fingers to between your spread thighs. You feel two digits thicker than your own slip easily between your folds. You're so wet right now Sukuan has no trouble sliding his fingers around your inner lips, teasing you by stroking over your entrance.

With his other hand, he grabs it tightly, forcing you to look up at him while holding your skirt up. You make a pathetic little sound that goes straight to his dick already staring against the zipper of his slacks.

You can feel his hold is not tight enough to hurt or leave marks, but firm enough to keep your head in place staring up at him.

“You a messy one aren’t ya?”

“Y-yes?”

You really did not know. You have never gotten this wet before even while masturbating

Oh my god, have I been doing it wrong?

Or was it just Sukuna, his dark presence, his calloused fingers, and the hungry way he looked at you?

He laughs at you,” What? No one ever touched this sloppy cunt?”

 When you advert your eyes Sukuan swears he feels his cock jump. His voice turns serious base he has to know,” Tell me y/n, who has touched you here before me?”

“M-me?”

He meanly pinches your clit making you cry and shift your hips.

“Yes me,  the one who is making you look like some wanton whore. I want to know before me.”

“N-no,” you let. breath as he eased the pressure off. “I mean me…I’ve been the only one to touch myself.”

Oh, yes, Is Sukuna’s gleeful thought.

“Really now? Look at me.”

His demand brings your eyes back to his.

Sukuna watched every little detail of your face as he pushed two fingers into you. Your eyes go wide and your mind fills with nothing but an obscene pleasure as you feel Sukuan slip inside you and then stretch his finger out like the tightness was nothing to him.

It burns, but not in a bad way like that one time, brain fogged by lust, you try to fit your vibrator and the end of a push inside you at the same time. It feels so good, so good. Like an itch, you never even knew needed to be scratched and scratched hard. Because your hands are full you have nothing to hang onto, nothing to steady yourself.

Luckily Sukuna’s firm body I there for you to fall into. Sukuna then curls his fingers and draws a moan from the little sorceress who catches his eyes. He is suspired how much he’s enjoying seeing you like this. Your body pressed up against his means that there is no way you cannot feel how hard he is right now.

Sukuan said he expected you to fuck yourself, but that was before he knew how novice you are. So, he graciously does it himself. With your face still craned up look at him with dilated and needy as the curse begins to move his finger in and out of you.

And holy shit, just when you think you have gotten used to the pleasure Sukuna does something to cause any new wave to come over you. In the back of your mind, you wonder how he was so good at this but you are too far gone under his touch to care.

Sukuna moved his hands to grip the back of your neck. He smiles at you like this languid pace is a gift. It is almost too serene.

“It feels good?”

You nod, “Yes, s-so good.”

“I’ve barely even done anything yet. Be ashamed if I stop now would it?”

You feel your stomach drops even though he does not stop moving his fingers in those sinful motions.

“Pl-please don’t, “ you plea. “Please don’t stop, not now when it feels good. “

“Then you better get to moving those hips again.”

A small whimper escapes your lips as the playful threat. You know he is serious. The gleam in his red eyes tells you so and just the thought of having this pleasure taken away for you has you shyly rolling your hips. Sukuna is graciously patient with you. He keeps his pace steady and lets you find a rhythm that makes you see stars.

It was worth hearing his name come from your mouth, breathless and wanton. There was no looking away from the cursed dark and hungry gaze. The firm hand at the nape makes sure of that. You can’t see what Sukuan is so enraptured in but you know your cheeks must be as red as a tomato.

You were enthralled by the King Of curses. His dark need for you, the clever ploys to get you alone in his office, and this respect he holds for you when other would never even give you the time of day make you feel so special.

“God feels so good,” you huff.

Sukuna laughs, “God has nothing to do with this. Just me playing with this dripping cunt and watching how I’m the one making you come undone like this.”

“Sukuna I need more, please.” You ask but should have known it would not be that simple.

“More?” he lulls his head to one side, “Are you not pleased with what I’m doing already? That’s a pretty ungrateful brat.”

“n-no! I just neehhh- need more.”

“More what exactly.”

 “I-I need you to do more.”

Sukuan was having too much fun with you. “If you aren’t going use your words brat I will stop and I can already tell you won’t ever be able  to make yourself feel like this.”

 “More everything!” you wine bucking your hips,” I wanna feel you deeper, and faster, and harder. Please. I wanna cum but it’s not e-enough, fuck.”

Sukuan can get used to hearing your plea like that. He can’t wait to see how far he can push you till you snot your nose and cry. But for now, this will have to do while in the confines of his office.

 “Like this?”

 You cry curse, and even thank Sukuan as he jackhammers his into so deep his palms grange done against your clit. The sudden change should be jarring but something about the way Sukuna gives you exactly what you wanted and more that you did not even know you needed has you moans louder. If any student were in the empty hall outside they would surely hear the loud noise emitting from the professor's office.

“Shit, your cunts really clamping down on me y/n.”

“Sukuna, Sukuna, agh, fuuuuck ” Your hips freeze and you let the curse ram his fingers inside you since there was no way you could keep up with him.

            “That’s y/n, keep saying my name like it is. God damn prayer. Fucking love, the sound of you and the sloppy pussy like this. Making such Lovely noises just for you professor.”

The reminder that this is not just the King of Curses finger fucking you but your professor, in his own office, that sends you over the edge. Sukuna does not look away as your walls convulsive around his fingers. Your eyes roll back, then flutter close. You most hangs open and the only the only sound to come out is a choked moan.

 surely would have fallen over.

Sukuna keeps working you through your blissful orgasm only pulling his fingers out when your quick breathing slows.

His form grip on the back of your neck is still there as you blink on your eyes. It is just in time to see him licking his two fingers that gleaming with your wetness clean.

Was it possible for you to feel any redder and wetter?

 “Now open your mouth.”

Your lips part and Sukuna bends down meeting your mouth his. Whatever smell you try to make is stopped in the back of your though as Sukuna moves his tongue against yours. you only let go of you skirt when you need to breath. All it takes for Sukuna to pull away and let you catch your breath or a small push against his chest.

“Y-you hard,” you state the obvious.

“We can take care of that later,” Sukuna says before pulling you into another open-mouth kiss.

[makemeimmortalwithahug]

For the ask game: I don’t have a good question to hand but I love reading you talk about your F1 fic (even as someone who knows next to nothing about F1 lol) so here’s an excuse to share whatever you’d like about it, dealer’s choice :))

hiii thank you for the ask, sorry it took a while to answer this!

ahh thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying my rambling!

it's so hard to pick something, really, but I guess I kinda have to :D

If everything goes to plan, the first part of this AU will solely focus on Charles and Edwin's journey as they both move up to F1 - Charles as a reserve driver while Edwin will be signed for a proper racing seat straight away out of a lower series. F1 is a high pressure environment and in one of the first races, Charles and Edwin end up in an accident that forces Charles to retire the car and Edwin doesn't quite make it into the points (he places 12th, so no points for him unfortunately). It was quite obviously Charles' fault and he feels guilty about it but Edwin won't calm down and lashes out instead.

Charles is still a reserve driver at this point and is barely on track except for free practice session and one or two GPs to step in for teammates. Which is why it's even more hilarious for everyone involved that Edwin uses every moment to pick a fight with Charles. Edwin isn't a reckless driver by any means, but he just seems to lose his mind as soon as he sees Charles in a car.

That is to say, at the beginning the "enemies" part is pretty one-sided but when Charles finally gets a proper racing seat, he and Edwin butt heads more and more often until words are exchanged that neither of them can't take back without looking like they're the weak one.

Crystal will be a driver as well. They all show how different the climb to F1 can be, with Edwin being under pressure to not disappoint his parents who financed his career, Charles being under pressure because his father won't support him and he has to rely on his supporting programs, and Crystal, whose parents only indulged her to keep her quiet but she's under pressure now to show them that she can actually accomplish something in F1

Crystal and Edwin were teammates in a lower series and are now gossip buddies for anything that happens on the paddock. She thinks Edwin's rivalry with this reserve driver is quite silly but that's no reason for her not to flirt with him a little. It's even funnier because the media constantly reports about Edwin and Crystal's supposed "secret relationship" because they have known each other for so long and basically live in the same flat during breaks. They laugh about the news articles while drinking cocktails on the balcony

Edwin and Charles first meet at a karting event, Edwin winning while Charles gets second. Charles is really friendly but Edwin is cautious because he knows that people rarely express their true feelings (Simon is always friendly as well when he and his parents are invited over to Edwin's home but when they're alone, it's a whole different story) and he might come off as rude but Charles isn't bothered. Charles is just happy to be there but it's saddened by the fact that he probably won't be able to keep up karting because he doesn't have the money. In the end, Edwin turns out the reason why he doesn't quit. He won't tell Edwin this for years to come

well, this got longer than I thought haha sorry about that! I hope there was something new because I can't remember everything that I already shared on discord, but a lot of this is quite recent development c:

[pentopaper23]

One-shots about Anthony attending school events for his siblings.

CHAPTER ONE: Benedict - Chopin’s - Nocturne No. 20 in C# Minor

2003

Late was something that Anthony hated being, but here he was running down a school hallway with Hyacinth on one arm and Gregory resting on his opposite hip. Daphne and Eloise were running beside him, and Colin had Francesca tucked under his arm. Not one of them was fully dressed, Hyacinth had lost her baby socks somewhere in the carpark, Colins was in half of his school uniform; shirt untucked and tie missing, Daphne and Fran were still in their school uniforms and Gregory was in some kind of children’s dress up costume. Anthony himself was still in what the children called his ‘work clothes’, a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt that he should have changed before rushing out the door this afternoon and he had a baby bag slung over his shoulder.

They had been late leaving Kent after lunch to make it to Benedict’s piano recital on time at Eton. Anthony has business in London and meetings with his lawyers, so he decided to pull the children out of school and make a weekend of it. Between finishing his morning work, picking up the girls and readying the babies they left Kent at the unacceptable time of 4:30pm for Benedict’s performance at 6pm.

Cutting it fine was an understatement when Colin met them in the carpark at 5:40, underdressed for a boy who lived where they were visiting.

“I see you dressed up,” Anthony had snipped as he struggled to open the buckle of Gregory’s car seat.

“It’s after hours,” Colin has replied moving around to help the other children out of the car.

Using his fading memory of the school lay out Anthony rushed through the semi familiar halls of Eton Collage his sibling trailing after him like ducklings. He checked his watch when the concert hall doors come into view, 5:50pm. Swinging the doors open with a bang several heads turned to look at him with disapproving eyes, but the looks faded when they saw it was the Viscount and his family. Quickly they moved down the middle aisle under the watchful eyes of the parents and families and settled into their seats in the front row. Colin said he would be right back and would let Benedict know they where here and he slipped away though some curtains to the back of the stage. Anthony got the children settled, Daphne and Fran were happily chatting and El was flicking through a program that he hadn’t realised she had grabbed on the way in. Hyacinth was contently resting her little head against his shoulder and Gregory was sitting on his lap looking around the grand room excitedly.

“Ben!” El yelled waving her hands towards the stage, the siblings all looked in the direction that she was waving and saw Colin and Benedict sticking their heads around wings of the stage. They both gave a small wave and Anthony smiled at his brother. With a pat on Benedict’s shoulder Colin disappeared from view and emerged back out on the side of the stage and walked back to his seat. He reached out his arms for Gregory who Anthony was struggling to keep a hold off ever since the little boy had seen Benedict.

“Pass the devil here” he said gesturing to his baby brother. With practiced movements the siblings passed the toddler down the line and Daphne handed him to Colin who placed him on his lap facing the stage.

“Which one did he pick El,” Anthony asked nodding at the program she was still reading. Eloise squinted at the page and soundless sounded out the letters before speaking.

“Chopin - Nocturne No. 20 in C# Minor” El said showing the program to Anthony who sighed in relief. For the last few weeks, he had been gifted late night calls from Benedict in various states of panic over his choice of song. Each one he had played over the phone has been note perfect but nothing he had said had seemed to calm the boy.

The lights of the hall flicker announcing the start of the concert and several people rushed to their seats before the MC graced the stage.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My Lord,” he said bowing to Anthony when he noticed him sitting the in the front row. Anthony simply nodded his head in acknowledgement and moved Hyacinth, who had fallen asleep to his other shoulder.

“I am very happy to welcome you to Eton College’s Music and Drama department’s exhibition night. We have a full night planned for this evening so please if I could drag your attention to the stage, please welcome grade 4 music class with a “Ba Ba Black sheep” played on the recorder”. A small group of boys were ushered onto the stage by a male teacher and what came next was 10mins of pure hell. Not one of them poor lads played a note in time or on key and many of the parents surrounding him were trying and mostly failing to hide their smiles and laughs. To his siblings credit not one of them broke and he put it down to all of them being used to each other bad singing or failed hobbies that nothing relating to lack of musical talent shocked them anymore. Over the next three hours Anthony excused himself a few times to change Hyacinth and Gregory and each time he felt the stares of the other parents.

He was not the only man of nobility to have children enrolled in the school, far from it really. There are children of barons, other viscounts, a duke or two and not the mention the crown prince that has just started in Colin’s year. But he was one of the very few that rarely missed a school event; sports days, music events like tonight, parent teacher conferences and a smattering of other events that parents would normally attend. Whispers still followed him whenever he attended an event in place of his parents.

“Did you hear? Yes, both of them now, such a sad future for them.”

“I hear he is struggling. My husband does business with the estate, and he is pushing meeting left right and centre. I give it a year.”

He had gotten good at ignoring the voices and concentrating on his siblings and the little smiles and waves that were gifted to him when they noticed him sitting the crowd at their events.

He kept an eagle ear on the program in El’s and could see that Benedict was one of the last to preform that night. The MC introduced a 10th grader that recited a Shakespeare sonnet that would rival any that were being preformed at the National theatre and a boy that played the classical guitar effortless with fingers flying over the strings. Anthony was glad when Benedict was called to the stage, Hyacinth and the other younger siblings were starting to get restless having been seated for almost three hours and he could feel a tantrum coming from Eloise after he told her that no she couldn’t go and find the library.

“Please give a round of applause for Mr Benedict Bridgerton, who will be preforming Chopin’s  - Nocturne No. 20 in C# Minor,” the MC said and Benedict walked somewhat shyly onto the stage his eyes searching the darkness for his family. When his eyes locked with Anthony he smiled and gave a small wave and Anthony locked away the memory with the others his siblings had gifted him. Anthony’s nerves kicked in when Benedict sat down at the piano. He always felt like this when watching his siblings do something in public; not for him but for them, he wanted them to succeed in everything they did and watching them fail was heart-breaking to him. He held his breath as Benedict played the first few notes and he left it out when he saw that Benedict had gotten into the zone and his fingers were flying across the keys with learnt and practiced precision. The song came to a close and Benedict turned to the crowd and like they always did Anthony and his sibling jumped to their feet clapping and cheering. Anthony who was still holding Hyacinth and couldn’t clap put his fingers between his lips and let out a loud wolf whistle not caring if it drew disapproving looks from some of the other people around him. His siblings on the other hand were loudly cheering and clapping; Colin had raised Gregory in the air and the toddler was clapping with all his little might. Benedict looked a little embarrassed but took a bow and shook his head at his family antics and left the stage.

“He’s gonna hate us” Colin laughed in a sing song voice trying to wrangle a now over excited Gregory back into his lap and Anthony laughed, he probably would, but the next event they attend he would get pay back on his siblings.

Slowly the night came to a close and the MC thanked everyone for attending and people started to exit the hall. Several people came up and spoke to Anthony about business, these he brushed off and told them to call the Estate in the coming week and several more passed on their praise for Ben’s performance and cooed at Hyacinth who stared back at them with wide eyes and a gummy smile.

“Wait a second girls!” Anthony yelled to his sisters who made to run towards large crowd that was streaming towards the exit, “We need to collect Benedict for the weekend. Here Daph take Hyacinth, I need to run backstage. Colin you’re in charge.” He said before ducking through the curtains and backstage.

He spotted Benedict talking with some of his friends and noticed how happy the young boy looked when he threw his head back and laugh along with the other boys. He had grown in the last year and was resembling their father more then every before. His long chestnut hair was falling into his eyes, and he brushed it away. It was this action that reminded Anthony that he needs to have it cut over the coming break and filed it away in his mental calendar.

“My Lord?” A voice said from behind him, and he turned to find Benedict’s music teacher Mr James standing here. Anthony reached his hand out to shake the mans.

“Mr James, pleasure. He was good tonight.” Anthony said looking back at Benedict who was yet to notice him and was still laughing and fooling around with his friends.

“He is very gifted, one of my best. I was actually hoping we could talk about something.” Mr James said nodding his head to a quite corner.

“Of course, is there something wrong with his work?” Anthony asked trying to remember if he had received any mail or calls about Benedict in the last few months.

“Nothing of the sort, as I said he is one of my best students. It regarding to an advanced music course taking place in Paris over the summer break and I was hoping that Benedict would be interested in taking part. I mentioned it to him, but he seemed apprehensive about travelling and mentioned that he would be needed at home. I understand my Lord that this last year has been difficult, but I really feel that it would be very beneficial for him.” Mr James said trying to be as sensitive at possible.

“Um…of course. I will speak to him about it thank you for bringing it to my attention.” Anthony said looking back over at Benedict who was no looking at them with worry on his face. Mr James nodded and left to speak to some other parents and Benedict walked over looking more worried than before.

“What did Mr James want?” Benedict asked before Anthony was even able to greet him.

“We’ll talk about it later. You did so well!” Anthony said pulling Benedict into a deep tight hug. Benedict returned it burying his face into his brother’s chest and taking a deep breath.

“I missed a couple of notes in the middle,” He mumbled into his brother’s shirt causing Anthony to tighten his hold on him. “I was perfect Ben, no one but you noticed.” Anthony said pushing Benedict away so that he could look at the young boy, “I promise.” Benedict nodded and gave Anthony another hug.

“I need to get back out there I left Colin in charge of the troops. I fear he will be overrun if I leave them for too long. Have you packed your bag for the weekend?” Anthony asked fixing the collar of Benedict’s dress shirt. Benedict nodded, “Yep, I just need to go and change, and I will meet you at the car. I’ll be ten minutes.” He said before running off towards the dorms.

Colin was indeed overrun by the time Anthony got back to the main hall; Gregory was hanging off his pant leg while he balanced Hyacinth in one arm while holding the back of Eloise's jumper to stop her from running away.

Anthony scooped up Gregory and placed him on his hip, picked up the baby bag and hung it over his shoulder, “All good? Where are Daph and Fran?” he asked Colin looking around for their missing sisters. “They ran to the bathroom. It’s just outside the door I told them to wait for us there” he replied letting go of Eliseo’s jumper and taking her hand. They were stopped several times by parents remarking on Benedict’s performance and only made there escape when Hyacinth started to fuss, “It’s well passed her bedtime” Anthony had joked when one mothers looked at him with a hint of pity in her eyes. Daphne and Francesca where right where Colin said they would be, waiting by the woman’s bathroom door playing a hand clap game and laughing to each other.

“Take Greg’s hand Daphne please,’ Anthony said passing the little boy over his sister. With his extra free hand, he was able to open and search through the baby bag for the insulated bag that held Hyacinth’s warm bottles of milk. Walking and feeding had become a necessary skill he had perfected in the last year, and he was please to say he could balance Hyacinth, feed her, talk on the phone and pace the study if he needed to.

Benedict, like his sisters, was also where he said he would be. He was leaning against the car in a fresh set of clothes with an overnight bag at his feet. He smiled and squatted down as Gregory took off towards him as fast as his little legs could carry him, their sisters rushing after him. Anthony would have yelled out, “Don’t run in a carpark!” if he felt it would do anything. Benedict was bowled over by his siblings and they all tumbled to the ground in sounds of happy laugher. “My little menaces!” Anthony heard his brother shout from under the pile of little limbs on top of him.

“All right! Get off the ground and in the car please!” Anthony shouted as he gently pulled the bottle away from Hyacinth’s lips and burped her before placing her in the car seat and buckling her in tight and safe; he tucked the baby bag under the front seat making sure it wouldn’t move but was still within reach if it was needed. Benedict had climbed in and was in the process of trying to buckle in Gregory who seemed to have turned to a snake and was fighting his way back out of the car. With quick thinking Anthony shut the back door trapping the little by inside, at least he couldn’t escape he thought to himself as he heard the little boys angry yells from inside the car and saw his little face looking at him from the window as if expecting him to save him from Benedict. He went around to the back of the car where is sisters were waiting patiently and helped them all climb into the third row

The car ride to London was quiet, Gregory and Hyacinth had fallen asleep almost instantly in the middle row with Benedict dosing in-between them. After his mother died Anthony had attended some parenting classes with Hyacinth and was forever traumatised by stories about baby car seats being stuck in the third row after accidents. Even since then one of the older boys was always seated in the middle row with the babies and Fran, Daphne and El were exiled to the third row, where they were now sitting quietly with the light on reading and finishing homework. Colin was sitting next to him in the front with a journal resting on his lap as she wrote quickly across the pages. What had started as a grief journal that a child counsellor had recommend after the death of their parents has turned into a daily release for the young boy and Colin was routinely asking for extra money for stationary and new journals when he filled his old one. Anthony never asked what the boy was writing in them but from the drivers he could glance over and catch random words like he and his siblings names, things about school and London all written out in Colin’s annoyingly neat handwriting.

By the time they reached the outskirts of London, Anthony was the only one awake in the car, the radio had been turned down to a soft hum and he was contently steering the car through the familiar streets of his childhood. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other was resting on the open window that was letting in cool summer air. The streets were empty, and the streetlamps were casting a soft orange glow over the landscape.

Turning the car into the tree lined Grosvenor Square the family Bridgerton House loomed at the end of the street. Still covered in purple wisteria the house looked untouched as if frozen in time. There were lights on inside indicating that the staff where still awake and waiting to greet the family. They hadn’t been here since the death of their parents; Anthony preferred the stay in a hotel that was close to his office if he ever needed to stay in London as the other children has shown little to no interest in visiting. So, it had stayed locked up, the gardens were kept in order and the inside looked over by the gardeners when they visited. But it was unlived in and empty. Until last week his parents’ bedroom was still untouched; their clothes still hanging in the wardrobe and shoes still tucked just inside their bedroom door. Family pictures had still hung on the walls, smiling faces looking back at all those who visited.

But not anymore, the pictures had been taken down and their parents room locked and sealed away. He wasn’t sure how his siblings would react to being back at the house and he was hoping that with less reminders of what had been, that it would be easier for them to settle in for the night. Staff from the estate had travelled in that morning to make ready the house, bedrooms had been aired out and bedsheets changed; the kitchen was reopened by their cook Mr Datson and Mrs Wilson had overseen the reopening and cleaning of the property.

Putting the car into park Anthony sat and stared at the house and took a deep breath. He could feel tears welling in his eyes and hastily wiped them before his siblings could wake up and see them. But he wasn’t quick enough and felt Benedict’s hand on his shoulder giving a comforting squeeze. He reached back and placed his hand over his brothers and gave it a tight squeeze back and mentally readied himself to leave the car.

[ataliagold]

Hello!

Thought it was about time I introduce myself and link all my fics in one place, so here we go, in the order I wrote them.

I'm from New Zealand (I try hard to keep NZ slang/terms out of fics but sometimes they slip in...sorry!) am 30, autistic and pan...

I write Steddie (and apparently Gator/Eddie now too) I enjoy AU's, Steve whump, hurt/comfort and fluff, so there's alot of that here. Animals often feature strongly in my fics too, because I love them.

Fics below the cut, all complete unless specified:

Multi Chapter:

The Wreckage Of You I No Longer Reside In -

Rating - M, W/C - 55,708

Steve had escaped an abusive relationship with Billy three years ago, fleeing in the middle of the night with his young son, Dustin. Working odd jobs and struggling to get by, Steve catches the eye of music teacher Eddie Munson. But when Steve's dark past crashes back into his life again, will Steve be able to find a reason to stop running?

You Fell, I Caught You -

Rating - T, W/C - 8621

How many ways can a camping trip go wrong? When Steve agrees to take the kids on a short trip, he finds out.

Hopefully, I Won't Wake Up This Time -

Rating - T, W/C - 4029

While everyone moves on around him, Steve finds himself stuck, pushing his friends away and turning to alcohol to cope. Eddie intervenes.

Love Like Ghosts -

Rating - E, W/C - 89,547

Three months after the main gate opened and Eddie died, Steve is not ok. His bat bites refuse to heal, and his dreams are haunted each night by a shadowy creature. After hearing Eddie's voice, Steve clings to a shred of hope that perhaps he is alive somewhere, and is determined to find him even if it's the last thing he does.

Oh Darling, Please Be Mine -

Rating - M, W/C - 56,249

Eddie brings six dumped kittens into the vet clinic Steve works at. Steve falls in love.

I Can Wait For You At The Bottom -

Rating - M, W/C - 57,524

Steve drives to an isolated cabin intending to end it all. He wasn't counting on a desperate boy breaking into the cabin on the same night.

I Need You To See Me For What I Have Become -

Rating - M, W/C - 5604

The car came around the corner both suddenly and in slow motion at the same time.

Steve saw the headlights, registered it approaching at speed, heard the blare of the horn, but it was as if he was watching from far away, not in his body. He stood stock still even as his brain screamed at him to move.

The impact knocked him down, sending him lurching across the surface of the road, skin giving way against asphalt, and suddenly he was in a dry lake bed being dragged across rough ground like a fish on a hook.

My, My, Those Eyes Like Fire -

Rating - M, W/C - 65,433

When Steve and Dustin are captured by King Munson, their home destroyed by his army, Steve fights for their lives in the arena every day. He captures the eye of Prince Edward who is immediately intrigued by Steve's refusal to give in and the sheer fury with which he fights. Edward, whose father had slaughtered Steve's family and burnt his home to the ground.

Edward, who should be his sworn enemy, but may now be his only way to stay alive.

Keep My Hand In Yours -

Rating - M, W/C - 91,714

The entire world fell apart just over a year ago.

Steve's just trying to get by on his own, on a desperate mission to find his best friend.

Enter Eddie Munson.

We Made Universes Out Of Bitten Lips And Broken Hands -

Rating - M, W/C - 65,770

Steve is working with the Wild Horse Inmate Rehabilitation Program. He's good at his job, exceptional with the horses, and makes sure to keep a healthy detachment from the inmates he works with...

...until Eddie Munson.

the edges of your soul i haven't seen yet -

Rating - T, W/C- 60,057

Eddie's reluctantly helping Wayne with his produce stall at the farmers' market. He's resigned himself to a boring summer - until a new face shows up at the market to run a baking stall with his best friend. Steve is...odd, like no one Eddie's ever met.

And it doesn't take him long to fall head over heels for him.

Little Break in the Chain -

Rating - E, W/C - 20k+ still updating

Beaten and bloody, Gator's stuck in the snow in a broken-down car.

Enter Eddie Munson.

Oneshots:

"But You Love Me?"..."Always" -

Rating - T, W/C - 6026

“Oh, I told him not to order the chicken, the dingus…”

When Steve Harrington is struck down by a nasty case of food poisoning, Eddie does his best to take care of him, but ends up calling in backup in the form of Joyce Byers.

We Were Gods, We Were Kids -

Rating - G, W/C - 1595

Steve suffers from migraines.

Luckily for him, he doesn't have to suffer alone anymore.

My Heart Has Changed And My Soul Has Changed -

Rating - T, W/C - 1797

Steve helps Hopper stack firewood at the cabin. The two have a much-needed talk.

I'm Naming The Stars In The Sky After You -

Rating - T, W/C - 2074

In the aftermath of Vecna, Steve is struggling. Eddie looks after him.

But My Heart Is Just A Little Boy -

Rating - T, W/C - 2017

Steve wanted to surprise Eddie by joining in on D&D. Unfortunately, he's struggling with the math involved, and the kids aren't making it any easier.

Found -

Rating - T, W/C - 1787

Steve has been frantically looking for his missing cat for nearly a week, when he receives a voicemail from a stranger.

Knocking Me Out With Those American Thighs -

Rating - T, W/C - 850

Steve sunbathes in the tiniest shorts Hawkins has ever seen. Eddie tries and fails to keep his cool.

The Night Belongs To You -

Rating - T, W/C - 2004

It's the night before Eddie is leaving Hawkins. Things between him and Steve come to a head.

Sip The Sunlight From Your Eyes -

Rating - G, W/C - 706

The whole gang has gathered at Steve's place for a summer BBQ. Part way through, Eddie realizes Steve is missing, and finds him fast asleep in the midday sun.

All Along The Watchtower -

Rating - T, W/C - 1578

In the aftermath of the partial destruction of Hawkins, some of the group find a new home in a bunker outside what’s left of the town.

Steve has the night watch.

I Can't Hide From You Like I Hide From Myself -

Rating - T, W/C - 1535

Both suffering from the flu, Steve and Eddie aren't doing the best. Robin steps in.

Flowers In Your Hair -

Rating - G, W/C - 1250

Eddie enlists some help to find the perfect flowers for Steve. Despite his own insecurities, Eddie is learning that his boyfriend loves soft things.

you told me once that i'm selfish (and i kissed you hard, in the dark) -

Rating - G, W/C - 1452

Steve is used to spending time doing what Eddie wants to do. On a hot summer afternoon, the tables are turned when Steve asks Eddie to go hiking with him and Eddie is...not so thrilled about it.

Under July Stars That Would Glow Like Sparks -

Rating - G, W/C - 1243

At the end of their final summer in Hawkins, Steve and Eddie spend a bittersweet evening catching fireflies with Dustin.

Slippery When Wet -

Rating - M, W/C - 967

On a sweltering July afternoon, Eddie watches Steve practicing basketball with Lucas, and struggles to keep his hands off him.

I'll Sing Silence -

Rating - T, W/C - 2702

A series of unfortunate events leads to a bad day for Steve. Luckily, Eddie's there to take care of him.

Or Maybe We Don't -

Rating - G, W/C - 1289

Steve wanted to be Eddies.

It's the final day of Steve and Eddie's summer trip, and Steve has something he needs to tell Eddie.

Keep Me Afloat -

Rating - G, W/C - 1735

Standing in ankle-deep water watching his friends enjoy a summer beach day, Steve looks down at himself and hates what he sees.

I Just Wanna Get To Know Ya -

Rating - T, W/C - 1289

Dustin convinces Eddie to drive them to the indoor climbing gym where his old babysitter works. Eddie's reluctant at first, but changes his tune when he lays eyes on the instructor...

Drove Through Ghosts To Get Here -

Rating - T, W/C - 1237

During his last summer in Hawkins, Steve teaches Robin how to drive.

If Love Was Contagious I Might Be Immune To It -

Rating - T, W/C - 1914

Steve's early life is mostly devoid of love - until Eddie Munson.

He Loves My Heart Shaped Sunglasses -

Rating - G, W/C - 938

Steve's at a barbeque with his friends when he's hit with the painful consequences of too much sun.

I Want Ours To Be An Endless Song -

Rating - T, W/C - 1257

Eddie's been trying for months to keep his feelings for Steve in check. But unbeknownst to Eddie, Steve's taken him on a date.

Boy Don't You Worry, You'll Find Yourself -

Rating - T, W/C - 3879

Steve joins Wayne and Eddie on their fishing trip. He and Wayne have a much-needed talk.

Come Back Home For The Lightning Chase -

Rating - T, W/C - 1311

Several years after the death of Vecna, Steve and Eddie return to Hawkins during a summer storm.

Spirits Follow Me Where I Go -

Rating - T, W/C - 2156

Steve takes Eddie kayaking, and experiences a panic attack while on the water.

When The Night Was Full Of Terrors -

Rating - T, W/C - 8048

A camping trip goes seriously wrong for Eddie and Steve.

Show Me Yours And I'll Show You Mine -

Rating - T, W/C - 1882

Eddie is self-conscious about his scars. Steve shows him he doesn't have to be.

you're the only one who knows, you slow it down -

Rating - T, W/C - 1800

Eddie's at a farmers market when he's approached by a very determined black and white cat. On a whim, he follows him to a young man having a panic attack in the woods.

and the moonlight baby shows you what's real -

Rating - T, W/C - 1103

In the aftermath of Vecna, Steve's left with a variety of issues, including frequent episodes of sleep paralysis. Luckily, he doesn't have to suffer through them alone.

you still dance but you're out of time -

Rating - T, W/C - 3181

Until now, nobody's worked out that Steve's essentially homeless, living in his car. But one night, when Steve's cold and alone and in pain, Hopper chances across him.

trouble's always gonna find you baby, but so am i -

Rating - T, W/C - 1555

Steve's found by some men looking to pass Al Munson's drug debt on to his son.

But he'll die before he gives Eddie up.

Steve Harrington's Cat Cafe -

Rating - T, W/C- 2197

Eddie's lonely. He decides adopting a cat is the best option, and finds more than he'd bargained for at the Hawkins Cat Cafe.

Merry Christmas, Please Don't Call -

Rating - T, W/C - 2275

Steve's about to spend Christmas alone, but Eddie's having none of it.

Series:

It Was Always Burning -

Firefighter AU, collection of 66 (so far) oneshots in this universe, some written by floralsunrise. Ratings range G - M.

god how lucky can a simple man be? -

A series of oneshots in the We Made Universes Out Of Bitten Lips And Broken Hands universe. Cowboy Steve/Eddie.

[mindblowingscience]

NASA has set a provisional launch date of July 2028 for its Dragonfly mission, meant to explore Saturn’s largest moon Titan, with budgetary uncertainty cited as the reason for the project’s one-year delay. The Dragonfly team can now move forward with the next stage of development  —  Phase C  —  for the car-sized, nuclear-powered rotorcraft drone that will fly above and land on the sands of Titan, a world planetary scientists believe is rich in organic molecules. "The Dragonfly team has successfully overcome a number of technical and programmatic challenges in this daring endeavor to gather new science on Titan," NASA Science Mission Directorate associate administrator Nicola Fox said in a statement. "I am proud of this team and their ability to keep all aspects of the mission moving." At NASA’s Outer Planets Assessment Group (OPAG) meeting on Nov. 28, the director of the agency's planetary science division, Lori Glaze, revealed the reason for the launch delay  —  originally set to head to Titan in 2027. She said that formal confirmation of Dragonfly and the official costing and scheduling of the mission by NASA’s Agency Program Management Council (APMC) had been postponed due to uncertainty about how much money would be available for the project.

Continue Reading.

[thesirencult]

ICY DIARIES 💎 2 : NEVER JUDGE A BOOK'S ENDING BY ITS FIRST CHAPTER

On this episode of "Icy Diaries" we will explore the dynamic of personal timelines, divine timing and why you shouldn't listen to the "gurus".

Back when I was in highschool I used to share a desk with a girl named Marie. Most people wanted to leave our small hometown and move two hours away, to the big city. Everyone was obsessed with leaving and never coming back until their success could make people jealous on a cliché highschool reunion.

Marie though was different. She decided to stay in our hometown and focus on herself. She was always very overweight and never had a boyfriend. Once we were talking about first kisses and she confessed to me that she had not even held hands with a boy, let alone kissed one.

She also didn't know what career she wanted to follow, even though she was a straight-As student, highly emotionally intelligent and very tech savvy and intelligent.

Marie was a late bloomer.

A few years passed, C*VID hit and I decided to visit my hometown.

I got off the train and I started walking towards my childhood home, thinking of warm cups of cocoa and waffles.

As I turned the corner I saw a long haired brunette in tight gym clothes getting off the passenger side of a Porsche. Her man was holding the door open, waiting for her to get off the car.

Looking my way she smiled and waved. I immediately recognized that warm smile and those caring brown eyes ! It was Marie !!!

Turns out, Marie trusted her path and didn't listen to others around her urging her to go to the big city. She worked part time jobs and started attending an online European university program that she could afford without going into debt. For 4 years she had worked on building lucrative online businesses and had founded several projects along the way, even selling a couple of e-commerce stores and a SaaS web app. She had tried moving to the city and had been accepted to a good school but she didn't want to burden her family. People made fun of her for not leaving the town and said that she was scared to get out of her comfort zone ! Who knew !

One day she decided to hit the gym and she became friends with her mentor (a story for another day) and a guy who went to our middle school but switched to a different highschool. He didn't leave our hometown too. His family owned a business and he decided that he wanted to learn the ins and outs of it to take over at some point. It was a very very lucrative venture. Like in the MILLIONS. I learnt that they were planning on getting married and moving in together in their home.

I would have never imagined these two together, but seeing them now side by side something clicked in me :

It all happens for a reason, at the right time.

The story above, portrays to me the importance of following your heart.

I know that many people tell you to suck it up and go cold. Sometimes we need that. Other times though, we need to trust the journey.

Marie never seemed like the type of person who could build businesses. She kept private. Marie played the game right though.

She didn't go after the BIG city sharks. She opted for her small town boy who kept her satisfied. Because that's what she wanted.

She didn't force it and she made the best she could with the tools she had.

Now she can enjoy her life, just at 25, while other classmates of ours are slaving away in corporate offices to pay off college debt.

That was the right decision for her.

Each one of us is on their personal journey. Your timeline is yours. It's not your mama's, neighbour's or friend's. If you can utilise a cheat code don't make it harder just to feel like a victim.

You won't get a prize for suffering.

After my meeting with Marie I started seeing life differently. I decided that I would never let anyone shame me for my choices. Your inner voice holds the answers, you just need to listen.

I always wanted to follow my passion for astrology and helping people to reach their highest potential. Actually Marie was one of the first people I analysed the chart of. She was super chill and open minded from the start. I'm very happy that she let her light shine to the world, in her own way.

You are a queen and you are always on time 💋

[mariacallous]

(JTA) — When I was 18 years old, like many American Jews, I spent a gap year in Israel. At a right-wing army-prep program called Mechinat Yeud, located in the illegal settlement of Efrat, I learned Torah, went on hikes and practiced krav maga. I fondly look back at this year as a positive experience and a time when I matured as a young adult.

I also saw the daily mechanisms of the occupation, though I didn’t have the vocabulary to articulate this.

Over that year, I saw Palestinians whose cars bore different license plates than those driven by Jews. I saw a checkpoint between Israel and the West Bank that was a formality to Jews like my friends and me but very real to the Palestinians living right next to us. Though I finished my year in Yeud with a strong desire to live in Israel, I also knew that I couldn’t be complicit in Palestinian oppression. 

I eventually moved to Israel and threw myself into anti-occupation activism, spending weeks and months at a time in Palestinian communities in the West Bank. In addition to the bureaucratic oppression that Palestinians face on a daily basis, I saw — and sometimes was a victim of — the settler violence that plagues the West Bank.

During the American civil rights movement, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel famously referred to his protesting as “praying with his feet.” This past Yom Kippur, when the rabbis of the Talmud tell us to fully prostrate ourselves during prayer, I asked for forgiveness with my whole body by spending the Day of Atonement in Ein Rashash, a Palestinian Bedouin shepherding community located 22 miles northeast of Ramallah. Its residents had requested a 24/7 presence from solidarity activists due to threats from the nearby Israeli outpost of Malachi Hashalom.

According to a United Nations report released on Sept. 21, 1,105 Palestinians fled their homes and villages in 2022 and 2023. The report stated that settler violence is at a record high since the U.N. began documenting the trend in 2006. 

This report includes the villages of Ein-Samia, Al-Qabun, al-Baqa and Ras al-Tin. All of these villages were located near Ein Rashash, and like Ein Rashash, the communities all relied on shepherding for their livelihood. Settler attacks in the Palestinian towns of Huwara and Turmus Aya, frequently described as pogroms, have received attention within Israel and internationally.

Ein Rashash has faced similar settler violence and harassment. Shortly upon entering the village, one can see where settlers shattered the windows of homes and destroyed an outhouse in an attack in June. The community is considering leaving their land just like the community of Ein-Samia and many others have done. 

In response to this violence, a group of activists, most notably Rabbi Arik Ascherman, is spending long periods of time in Ein Rashash — located north of the ruins of Ein-Samia — to use our privilege as a de-escalating presence. When non-Palestinian activists are around, settler violence is less likely. Ein Rashash and the nearby villages are all located in Area C, the portion of the West Bank under full Israeli control as per the Oslo Accords. The Palestinian residents do not have Israeli citizenship, and they are subject to military law as opposed to the civil courts through which Israeli settlers are tried. “Protective Presence” activism is utilized in other communities in Area C that face regular threats of settler violence and home evictions, such as Masafer Yatta. I have done several shifts already, and I volunteered for the Yom Kippur shift.

I was accompanied by five other activists. The first thing we did was assign roles in case settlers came. Who would call the police or other activists? Who would film? Who would stand in front of a settler’s car if he tried to enter the village or drive through a flock of sheep? These are normal conversations in this line of work. 

There is no break during Protective Presence activism. Either there’s an immediate incident, or you’re waiting for the next one. Every unfamiliar car or person in the distance can be a settler coming to attack or harass or bringing soldiers to force Palestinians off their land. A drone from the nearby outpost hovered overhead for around 30 seconds, and I was on edge for the next hour. You sleep with one eye open. Jewish holidays often bring with them right-wing violence in Israel and the West Bank. Hate crimes were carried out in Bat Yam this year and last year, and in 2021 there was a settler pogrom in the Palestinian village of Mufagara.

This is exhausting and emotionally draining. Unlike many other Protective Presence shifts I have participated in, Yom Kippur ended without incident. 

After 25 hours, I had the privilege of going home to Jerusalem. Palestinians do not have this option. This is their life. 

According to Torah, on Yom Kippur the Israelites are told to “afflict themselves.” The rabbis concluded that self-affliction must refer to fasting, reasoning that “affliction” refers to something that, when taken to a certain extent, can lead to death. 

Life under occupation can, and does, lead to death. One look at the statistics makes that all too clear. Since 2000, 10,667 Palestinians in the occupied territories have been killed by Israeli soldiers or civilians.

Protective Presence is my self-affliction. And yet, in homage to Yom Kippur’s imagery of being sealed in the Book of Life, life goes on. Activists laughed with and got to know each other and our Palestinian hosts. We read and we ate delicious homemade food. We didn’t embrace misery as a form of repentance. We embraced the full spectrum of life. 

I believe fasting is mentally, physically and spiritually unhealthy. The only self-affliction I find meaningful is in sharing the pain — and the joy — of my fellow human beings, particularly in a way that lightens their pain and suffering. The people of Ein Rashash have told us that our presence is making their lives easier and helping them stay on their land. The children are laughing and playing in a way that they were not when we first started these shifts. This has been the most meaningful Yom Kippur I’ve ever had.

In Mishnah Yoma 8:9, we learn that repentance on Yom Kippur only allows us to atone for the sins between ourselves and God. For a sin against another person, one must “satisfy their fellow.” We don’t need to ask God for forgiveness. We must stand with the Palestinians suffering under Israeli rule, until they’re satisfied. 

I know that it’s not a matter of if the settlers will be back, but when. For as long as that’s the case, I will continue to pray with my body and sometimes “self-afflict” in the name of justice and equality. The Talmud states self-affliction does not absolve one from their sins towards other people, only those towards God. And yet, our sins towards other people are the ones for which we direly need to repent.

[dimalink]

DX2 Formula – Summer Retro

Three dimensional scene for today based on videogame F1 Grand Prix 2 for computer system PC MS DOS. Three dimensional graphics for DOS. It is always cool! Real dynamical scene. Excellent racing game for serious virtual racers. Beautiful graphics and dynamical process. Real simulation. All of these for MS DOS!

And this is my three dimensional scene based one. Formula 1. Asphalt. Summer. Speed cars are moving by asphalt. Summer weather – it is best time for racing games. Good asphalt. Trees are growing all around!

I remember how I sit at the country house and was doing really nothing and half of the day I watched Formula 1. Weather was fine at the street.

Three dimensional race game style of MS DOS 486 or PC WINDOWS 95. Full retro! It is stretched textures, take a look! It is my goal for today! And if to make such a game – then it will be more arcade. Something like Sega Saturn Sega Rally! But Formula 1. It can be cool, even, to make it with C to write a program. But this is only a three dimensional render pictures.

Dima Link is making retro videogames, apps, a little of music, write stories, and some retro more.

WEBSITE: http://www.dimalink.tv-games.ru/home_eng.html ITCHIO: https://dimalink.itch.io/ GAMEJOLT: https://gamejolt.com/@DimaLink/games

TUMBLR: https://dimalink.tumblr.com/ BLOGGER: https://dimalinkeng.blogspot.com/ MASTODON: https://mastodon.social/@DimaLink

[souhaillaghchimdev]

Getting Started with Industrial Robotics Programming

Industrial robotics is a field where software engineering meets automation to drive manufacturing, assembly, and inspection processes. With the rise of Industry 4.0, the demand for skilled robotics programmers is rapidly increasing. This post introduces you to the fundamentals of industrial robotics programming and how you can get started in this exciting tech space.

What is Industrial Robotics Programming?

Industrial robotics programming involves creating software instructions for robots to perform tasks such as welding, picking and placing objects, painting, or quality inspection. These robots are typically used in factories and warehouses, and are often programmed using proprietary or standard languages tailored for automation tasks.

Popular Robotics Programming Languages

RAPID – Used for ABB robots.

KRL (KUKA Robot Language) – For KUKA industrial robots.

URScript – Used by Universal Robots.

Fanuc KAREL / Teach Pendant Programming

ROS (Robot Operating System) – Widely used open-source middleware for robotics.

Python and C++ – Common languages for simulation and integration with sensors and AI.

Key Components in Robotics Programming

Motion Control: Programming the path, speed, and precision of robot arms.

Sensor Integration: Use of cameras, force sensors, and proximity detectors for adaptive control.

PLC Communication: Integrating robots with Programmable Logic Controllers for factory automation.

Safety Protocols: Programming emergency stops, limit switches, and safe zones.

Human-Machine Interface (HMI): Designing interfaces for operators to control and monitor robots.

Sample URScript Code (Universal Robots)

# Move to position movej([1.0, -1.57, 1.57, -1.57, -1.57, 0.0], a=1.4, v=1.05) # Gripper control (example function call) set_digital_out(8, True) # Close gripper sleep(1) set_digital_out(8, False) # Open gripper

Software Tools You Can Use

RoboDK – Offline programming and simulation.

ROS + Gazebo – Open-source tools for simulation and robotic control.

ABB RobotStudio

Fanuc ROBOGUIDE

Siemens TIA Portal – For integration with industrial control systems.

Steps to Start Your Journey

Learn the basics of industrial robotics and automation.

Familiarize yourself with at least one brand of industrial robot (ABB, KUKA, UR, Fanuc).

Get comfortable with control systems and communication protocols (EtherCAT, PROFINET).

Practice with simulations before handling real robots.

Study safety standards (ISO 10218, ANSI/RIA R15.06).

Real-World Applications

Automated welding in car manufacturing.

High-speed pick and place in packaging.

Precision assembly of electronics.

Material handling and palletizing in warehouses.

Conclusion

Industrial robotics programming is a specialized yet rewarding field that bridges software with real-world mechanics. Whether you’re interested in working with physical robots or developing smart systems for factories, gaining skills in robotics programming can open up incredible career paths in manufacturing, automation, and AI-driven industries.

[housesunstone]

tell me about the person you went on 1 date with and hit it off but kept losing contact until rematching on hinge and tinder

Okay! When i tell you this is romcom levels of bs I mean it.

So it's 2015, and this kid, I'll call him C, met for the first time when our high schools were doing a thing. We get thrown into the same group chat for a bit throughout the day, and we hit it off. I don't use Snapchat, and Instagram wasn't a thing I used either back then, so we just drifted apart at the end of that day.

Flash forward to June 2018 and I did a victory lap in high school (I graduated in 2017 but deferred my acceptance into uni until the 2018 fall semester) I just got out of a really shitty relationship with this girl named H. H was a really bad person and I ignored those red flags for wayyyy to long (fun fact H still stalks me and after she dumped me she immediately got into a relationship with another girl who looked like me...) Anyways... H was a year younger than me, so while we were together, I became friends with some of her friends, and some of those friends chose me at the end of the relationship and not her. So as a joke my one friend K went to prom together with our other friend J, and my other friend M was at our table and her date N he went to a different highschool. The night of prom N and I were chatting since that was the first time I ever met him and he said something along the lines of "My friend met someone with the same name as you and had a huge crush on them isn't that funny" mind you we are all between the ages of 17-18 and fully not sober. So it never crossed my mind that this friend of his may be C even though I have a very unique name and no one else in my city has this name.

After prom N goes and tells C about this person who went to the same highschool and has the same name of this person he had a thing for. It took them some time to connect the dots and once they did it was too late I had left my city to go to uni.

Flash forward to March 2019, I dropped out of uni because I didn't like what I was doing. I loved where I was and the friends I made but didn't want to keep wasting money. So I move back home. September 2019 rolls around, and I start at my local college's film program. The film program is right by the IT and Pilot classes so we see them briefly all the time. EVERY SINGLE DAY UNTIL COVID C AND I SAW EACH OTHER AND NEVER REALIZED THAT IT WAS US.

Its now March 2021 we are doing classes fully online and I get hired in my field before I graduate. Still, in class, my teachers just gave me a pass since I had already been hired, and I then actually graduated in April in an online thing and never got a proper graduation. (sad but moving on)

Okay, so it's November 2021, and I decided to redownload Tinder since its been since 2018 that I've had a relationship, and I am one of those people who can't do one-night stands. The first person that pops up is C. We match. We chatted on Tinder for a bit, then moved to texting. December 2021 rolls around, we go on a coffee date. He got the location wrong (since there are two that are in our city), and I stood out in the freezing Northern Ontario winter waiting. He shows up, and we decide instead to get a coffee to go and take a ride in his car.

The date lasted four hours, and we talked the whole time; it was great. After the date, we texted more, but then the holidays rolled around, and we drifted.

In March 2022, I needed to get a new number since my ex was stalking me once more, and I also got a new phone this time and lost all my contacts... I lose C's number.

In June 2022, we match on hinge. We are talking at a great time. We don't go straight to texting this time. He gets an internship out of town, and in July, I leave my city to stand up in a wedding.

In December 2022, we match on hinge again. As we were about to set up a date for the new year, my grandma broke her ankle. Since my grandpa has heart problems and can't take care of her by himself, and I can work from home, I take care of her. Between then and March 2023, we chat on and off before both of us leave hinge around the middle of March.

In May 2023, we met again on Tinder. Again, talking is great. We joke that we keep missing each other. On July 3rd, I left my city for 2.5 months for work reasons.

October 2023, we match again... he has a death in the family, and we lose touch.

AUGUST 13 2024 WE MATCH ON BOTH HINGE AND TINDER. HIS OPENING LINE ON HINGE IS "Remember me?" AND HIS OPENING LINE ON TINDER IS "Because I didn't forget you"

Fucking rom-com bs

[myemuisemo]

My new passion is gas station food programs, mostly based on the hope that I'll find something as interesting as:

Cumberland Farms' pizza slices (this was a back East thing)

QT's personalized pizzas (an AZ thing)

Krispy Krunchy Chicken and its rival, Crunchy Munchy Chicken

Another mixed-nut combo as good as the one at On the Go, which the manufacturer has discontinued

Since I needed to move my car anyway, I hied myself to the Quik Stop nearest me, which is actually a liquor store without gas pumps, located in a fretful little strip mall. Quik Stop is owned by Cumberland Farms, but this appears to be in the nature of a prank.

Last week's Quik Stop, way out Paradise Road (which is one of the most non-paradisical places around here) was an adventure in stale foods dessicating under their heat lamp. Today's Quik Stop had... drumroll... big carafes dedicated to iced coffee! The last time I saw an iced coffee carafe was at the combined c-store and pawn shop at Camelback & 19th Avenue in Phoenix. Today's iced coffee was better than that.

Heck, today's iced coffee was on a par with what i get at the hipster coffeehouse downtown.

I'm not depriving the indie coffeehouses with this project. Gas stations are for days when I wouldn't go downtown or to Waterford or Hughson anyway.