#USB Client

[gantengpermanen]

ESP32-S2/S3 Arduino example source code for USB HID Vendor Feature Report data exchange USB Host - USB Client via web-browser interface. Live demo: https://webhidvendor.blogspot.com/ WebHID API Demo Example ESP32 Arduino Core USB HID Vendor Feature Report Set/Get

[disabletblrlivereminder]

actually the only tumblr clients i won't be able to test (if there are any) would be anything made for linux and mac os because i dont own a mac and not messing with linux

[whumblr]

Losing battles, winning wars

Crossed out - Continued from ch.11 - Prologue

-

“A visitor?”

Ava brought up her agenda for the day, pressing the phone to her ear with her shoulder. Sure enough, she hadn’t missed anything; the only thing scheduled for the upcoming hour was a quick meet with Sarah. No outside clients for today. With half an eye still on the file in her hand and the phone in the other, the name the receptionist gave her didn’t fully register through her surprise—and annoyance.

“Yes, ma’am, he is—"

“Tell him I don’t do walk-ins, Fletcher, and that he can make an appointment like the rest of the world.”

A soft rustle sounded, as if Fletcher turned away from his visitor and cupped a hand to the phone. “He says he’s police,” he whispered, “and that it’s urgent.”

Ava didn’t bother repressing an annoyed sigh. “Send him up, then. I’ll give him ten minutes.”

Police… she mused when she put the phone back in its holder, a little more forceful than necessary. Not uncommon given her line of work and the defendants they represented, but usually handled through the right networks and with the right communication. Given this deviance – and the ambush – she had a feeling she knew what this was about.

The USB drive Lucas had given her was snugly plugged in her laptop. She removed it, put it in a drawer, and closed all digital files still open. Unreasonable, she knew that, not like he was going to tell by glancing at the stick what was on it or get anywhere near her computer, but still.

A knock on the glass door interrupted her musings and she turned.

“Ava.” Her secretary, already a girl of small stature, stepped aside in the doorway, dwarfed by the man she was escorting. “Mr Mathison.”

The man gave a polite nod and smile at the girl in thanks and she didn’t seem uncomfortable in his presence.

Ava, however, put on her game-face to hide her surprise. She had seen this man before. Leading a pack of black-clad armed men into a theatre. Marching back out with a bloodied Lucas.

He was wearing the same long black coat as he had then, a white dress shirt underneath and wearing black slacks. Given his clothes, here in the business district he could pass as a cunning lawyer or business man – probably what he was going for in public – and if she’d passed him in the lobby, she wouldn’t think twice about that assumption. But his manner and poise – the at ease stance with his hands behind his back – betrayed a little something else. And, well, having seen him having a bloodied man carried out of a public theatre might skew her judgement. Despite his attempt at this ‘disguise’, it was clear up close that this man was law enforcement through and through.

Not to mention she had done her research. Or rather, Lucas’ research, combined with some searches of her own. She was well aware this was the man Lucas suspected of murder, a man in charge of a prison, probably holding Lucas in custody. Illegal custody.

“Mr Mathison,” she echoed her secretary, but with a hint of ice in her tone. Time was precious after all, especially if it was taken from you like this.

“Ms Akwebe,” Mathison returned the greeting with a slight nod, his voice a deep rumble.

He shook her hand, less firm than she’d expected, and he immediately took a step back, making sure to keep a distance. The gesture seemed polite, but to Ava it seemed calculated. A façade that he merely kept up to compensate for his intimidating presence and that now clashed with how he’d bulldozered his way in here.

“Thank you for meeting me. I understand I am taking up your time so I’d like to get straight to business.”

He sat down on the sofa without waiting for an invitation. And just before he settled down, something caught Ava’s eye and she bristled with suppressed fury.

“Mr Mathison, you’ve either got a lot of guts or a lot of issues carrying that into my office.”

She nodded at the slight bulge next to his chest, under his coat, where she’d noticed his shirt had crinkled in a way that seemed familiar.

He didn’t seem bothered, didn’t adjust his coat nor moved and merely gave a polite smile. “Well spotted.”

“Do I need to call security in here?”

“I do not believe that is necessary. After all, they cleared me at the entrance as I have a concealed carry permit. I do apologise if it makes you uncomfortable.”

While anger was a form of discomfort, bubbling up inside her chest, she would never let it show. She had remained standing behind the other couch, perhaps an unconscious manner of creating some distance between them. But before he could notice and add to her ‘discomfort’ she walked around and sat directly across from him. This was a power play through and through; showing up assuming she’d make time for him, carrying a gun into her office.

“I assume you’re here about Lucas,” she said, not wanting to give the man a way to beat around the bush. After all, ten minutes is ten minutes.

“I am,” he said. “You are his supervisor?”

“I don’t supervise, mr Mathison. I lead a team of skilled people and I need them to be competent enough to work independently, without me holding their hand along the way.“

“Maybe it you hadn’t just held his hand but actively pulled him back we wouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t like what you’re implying.”

He held up his hands. “My apologies. You are aware what the charges are against him?”

“Helping a client with some less than scrupulous advice.”

“Yes. We are under the impression that he was acting independently, so none of that rubs off on you or the other people here.”

“Which client?” Ava pressed, and she expected him to blink and go ‘what?’ in that fake polite voice of his but the man didn’t hesitate at all.

“Unfortunately I cannot tell you that. The investigation is still pending and I can’t name names. I’m sure you can understand.”

“I need to know to make sure others don’t fall for the same trap.”

“I can assure you this person will never walk into this building to seek legal or other unscrupulous assistance again. Should that change, I will be the first to give you a heads up.”

He was quite invested in this fake story. While Ava was more interested in the real story and the illegal detainment. But she was stuck there. She couldn’t ask, couldn’t hint, couldn’t press. She’d only oust herself and paint a clear target on her back. So against her principles, she had to relent and allow him a win here. She’d strike when the time was right.

“We think he acted independently,” Mathison said again when she sat back on the sofa, “but I wanted to ask you if you noticed anything… different about his behaviour the weeks before his arrest.”

How antsy he was, bolting out of the building at random times, working overtime once his regular work files had been finished – though uncharacteristically rushed –  clearly exhausted but working like a possessed man? While she’d hated him ambushing her at the theatre, at least it cleared the fog and he had finally confided in her. “Nothing unusual,” she lied.

“You were with him the day of his arrest.”

Ah, so that’s why he was here. Combed through security footage, now, had he. She could turn him away with a single word; merely as warden this man did not have the jurisdiction to get involved with any investigation. But doing so wouldn’t get her anywhere, it would only give her a mental win while what she needed were answers.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“We were at the theatre. We were seeing a movie.”

“Which movie?”

“The journey to Mars.”

“Did you plan this trip?”

“We happened to meet inside.” Close enough to the truth with him ambushing her.

“Did he give you anything?”

“Cash for my niece to get snacks.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.” An enormous headache, sure, but probably not as bad as his own when they’d carried him out, near-unconscious. A tinge of rage twisted in her stomach.

He asked several more questions and she answered with as little information as she could but still enough and being cooperative, to make sure that, first, he’d believe she was no threat, and second, to never have him ‘visit’ again for more follow-up questions. At the end, he seemed satisfied and at ten minutes sharp, he stood, thanked her for her time and left as sudden as he’d announced his arrival.

Ava dropped back on the sofa, still whirling from this force of nature that had just blown through.

A knock on the door again, this time from a welcome visitor.

“That was him?” A blonde woman, carrying a stack of files almost reaching her chin, walked into the office. Sarah, the person she actually had a meeting with and who probably had hovered awkwardly in the hallway, carrying pounds of paperwork and waiting for them to finish up.

Ava nodded and sat back with a sigh, gesturing for her to sit down. “That was him.”

With a heavy thud Sarah dropped the stack of files on the table in-between the two sofas. She looked back, as if she could still see the imposing man retreating out the door. “Seems like a handful.”

“You have no idea�� What did you want to discuss?”

“You asked me to look into the financial aspects of the prison. His prison.” She nodded back.

“What did you find?”

Sarah scattered a number of files over the table and opened one of them. “Mostly what you’d expect to find. There are, however, monthly recurring transfers that aren’t from the government or charities or corporations, but from private persons or institutions. Booked as donations.”

“Is that uncommon?”

“Not in itself, but it is in this amount and usually donations are one-off. So, I looked into some of the names and that’s where it starts to get odd. I recognised some of the cases connected—” she pulled out two files from under the others and opened one, pointed at the name, “— this one, rather obvious, connected to the local mob, so that’s enough to make you wonder. But this one—” she opened the other file and tapped the name at the top of the page, “—Newport, government family who lost a son in that hit-and-run a few years back, whole thing was splashed over the news.”

“I remember. High profile case. They donated? The family?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Multiple times?”

“Over multiple years.”

“Are we sure these donations are voluntary?”

“No. But it seems they are.”

Ava furrowed a brow. “Are they donating or paying…?” she pondered out loud.

“Donating to keep their son’s killer incarcerated?”

A far reach. Something she absolutely would have dismissed before. Before she had read Lucas’ research on the prison.

She didn’t want to speculate too much. Get the facts first, they will point out a pattern and confirm their hypotheses or not. “Good find, Sarah. Run through all the names behind the donations. Double check them with the names of inmates – ask Robin for help with that, he’s looking into that – see if some are connected to the mob or rivalling factions, families connected to any crimes or victims—”

“Everything.” Sarah nodded, already ahead of her. “I’m on it.” She stood, but lingered near the door. “Any word on Lucas?”

“Nothing. All silent on the front.”

Sarah bit her lip, gave a solemn nod but her eyes blazed with determination, and turned back to her own desk.

Ava looked at the stack of files in front of her. A wry smile formed at her lips and the same determination lit in her eyes.

You may think the world bends to you, Mr Mathison, but that’s going to snap back at you some time.

Backing down was not her style, but she knew damn well when to pull back a little for the sake of winning in the long run. She wasn’t sure she’d parried all of his suspicions but even if he weren’t fully convinced they weren’t involved, he couldn’t do a thing about it. They were all involved. And they were coming for him, and coming for Lucas.

She opened the file Sarah put on top of the stack, settled in for work, and read the top line.

Newport v Georgiou.

-

Continued here

Tag list: @gala1981 @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop @andithewhumper @tippytappytyping

@suspicious-whumping-egg @cherrychupachup @alexmundaythrufriday @defire @withdrawingramen

@light-me-on-pyre @treasureguardingdragon @notactuallyluska @fortunately-cool-penguin

[adafruit]

Fruit Jam RP2350B credit-card mini computer with all the fixin's 🍓🍇💾

We were catching up on a recent Hackaday hackchat with Eben Upton (https://hackaday.io/event/202122-raspberry-pi-hack-chat-with-eben-upton) and learned some fun facts: such as the DVI hack for the RP2040 was inspired by a device called the IchigoJam (https://www.hackster.io/news/ichigojam-combines-strawberry-and-raspberry-to-deliver-a-raspberry-pi-pico-powered-educational-micro-66aa5d2f6eec). We remember reading about this back when it was an LPC1114, now it uses an RP2040. Well, we're wrapping up the Metro RP2350 (https://www.adafruit.com/product/6003), and lately, we've been joking around that with DVI output and USB Host support via bit-banged PIO, you could sorta build a little stand-alone computer. Well, one pear-green-tea-fueled-afternoon later we tried our hand at designing a 'credit card sized' computer - that's 3.375" x 2.125", about the same size as a business card (https://hackaday.com/2024/05/07/the-2024-business-card-challenge-starts-now/) and turns out there's even a standard named for it: ISO/IEC 7810 ID-1 (https://www.iso.org/standard/70483.html).

Anyhow, with the extra pins of the QFN-80 RP2350B, we're able to jam a ridonkulous amount of hardware into this shape: RP2350B dual 150MHz Cortex M33 w/ PicoProbe debug port, 16 MB Flash + 8 MB PSRAM, USB type C for bootloading/USB client, Micro SD card with SPI or SDIO, DVI output on the HSTX port, I2S stereo headphone + mono speaker via the TLV320DAC3100 (https://www.digikey.com/en/products/detail/texas-instruments/tlv320dac3100irhbt/2353656), 2-port USB type A hub for both keyboard and mouse or game controllers, chunky on-off switch, Stemma QT I2C + Stemma classic JST 3-pin, EYESPI for TFT displays, 5x NeoPixels, 3x tactile switches, and a 16-pin socket header with 10 A/D GPIO + 5V/3V/GND power pins. The PSRAM will help when we want to do things like run emulations that we need to store in fast RAM access, and it will also let us use the main SRAM as the DVI video buffer.

When we get the PCBs back and assembled, what should we try running on this hardware? We're pretty sure it can run DOOM. Should that be first? :) We also need a name. Right now, we're just calling it Fruit Jam since it's inspired by the IchigoJam project.

[simplyiigiselle]

Heeeeey~

Do you have a reference for Spudbo or nah, I wanna draw him with Bobby

Ye I do :DDD

Imma also add some notes and fun facts

- He has a few faded scars on his face, and his hands, this is bc of his dad being a drug dealer and a scammer, his clients can be.. cruel..

-He wasn’t born via mpreg lmao, that was a joke, he was born in a tiny usb created by smg1 accidentally using meme energy, He needed to be plugged into a computer so be born but smg1 didn’t know that his usb had a baby inside of it and was scared it could be a malware and break his laptop, so he got an old computer someone used to have that had like- 5 viruses and used that, and the computer broke when he was born lmao. So now he has like- 5 viruses in him that don’t technically harm him but just make him glitch out sometimes, have wings, and be overall a bit freaky

-he’s not allowed to touch tari’s robotic arm at all, bc the one time he did he accidentally transferred a malware to her arm and it took WAY TOO LONG to remove the malware, poor girl didn’t let anyone touch her arm for a whole month.

-If him and Bobby were siblings he’d be the older brother, he’d be 4 when Bobby is 3

-similar to all the toys in the toy toy kingdom(including smg1 and smg2), he does not have a biological gender, everyone just refers to him as a male.

-he can fly, just not properly since noone else he knows can(you can imagine how that would turn out)

-When he was first born, Bob very much didn’t like him at all, it only got worse when he had to take care of him since yk how annoying newborns can be, so for the first few months, it was really only smg1 (and occasionally smg2) taking care of him, but when Spudbo was held for ransom for the first time (at a few months old)Bob started taking care of him more and eventually learnt to love him like a son

-smg1 had postpartum depression from the fact that Spudbo was a accident and Bob was barely there to take care of him, and more(obv not hormonal changes but stress), it lasted a month only tho.

-the swords that he’s wearing are plastic, he has hands underneath them, same goes for bob(but his swords are real), and bob removes his swords when he’s near Spudbo, or at home in general. Outside of those things he usually never takes them off.

-Bob was scared of holding Spudbo until he was 6 in fear of hurting him.

-The first syllable of Spudbo is Spud, in honor of Spudnick, and the 2nd syllable is Bo bc Bob wanted to name him Bob jr, obv smg1 wasn’t very fond of that name

-Spudbo has a tts voice just like Bob and Bobby, he also has a Portuguese tts.

-Smg1 wanted to name him Spudnick entirely, and Bob wanted to name him Bob jr, so they argued before smg2 just came up with the idea to name him spudbob, and then they later changed it to Spudbo bc spudbob sounded too much like SpongeBob. Plus Spudbo sounded cute

-His full name is Spudbo Bobowski since smg1 doesn’t have a last name

-smg1 and 2 made his cloak and Bob gave him his swords(he wanted to give him real swords but didn’t bc he didn’t want a dead child), smg1 has remade the same cloak multiple times bc of the first fact on the list.

-Ironically Bob is his fav despite him not being as active in his life as Smg1 (poor smg1 lol)

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 11

Find the series masterlist

Ace continues to get into trouble. Flirting happens.

Warnings: Swearing, flirting, mention of injury, Price needs his own warning label, little bit of kidnapping.

Word count: 1.5k

Landing in Finland didn’t actually help the raging anxiety much. You let Laswell and Captain know to stand down, no further issues, and you’d update them soon. 

And then you booked a hotel room and took a very long, very hot shower. 

Your phone was ringing by the time you got out, and you grumbled to yourself. Captain. “Yes?”

“What’s your status?” 

“Secure,” you said after a moment, frowning just a little. That was a new tone from him. 

“And your delay?”

“A non-issue. Just a little miscommunication is all.” 

Captain was silent for a few moments. “Send me coordinates for the drop point.” And then he hung up.

You stared at your phone. Was he… upset? With you? For what? You hadn’t done anything wrong. 

But you did send him coordinates and a time. Tomorrow. Because there was no way you were going anywhere else tonight. 

Some gentle prodding at your side showed you were still healing well. You’d probably have a scar from this, but better a scar than to be dead. 

But you managed to sleep, at least. Which was honestly a relief. 

You made it to the drop point early. As always. You settled on a bench, pretending to read a book and people-watch. 

Even though you were expecting him, you still startled a little when a body dropped down next to you.

“Status?” Captain asked, voice low, a thread of concern in his voice.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, only a little snippy. “Here.” You held out the USB to him.

But he didn’t take it right away, frowning at you, gaze sweeping over you in a clear visual check. “What happened?” 

You blinked at him. “Does it matter? I’m here, I’m fine, I’ve got stuff for you.”

He took the USB but his fingers closed over your hand, trapping the drive between you. “What happened?”

You stared at him, eyes wide. Your heart was beating far too fast for the situation. “Nothing really happened,” you said weakly, confused. “Captain… what are you worried about?” A sudden thought had your heart clenching in pain. “Thought you gave up on the accusations?”

“That’s not what this is about.” His frown deepened and he shifted closer to you, the line of his jaw tense. “You went silent for hours and rerouted your flight without explanation.” 

You floundered, just a little. Because that? That was not an accusation. That was something worse. Concern. “I–Captain, I’m fine. Nothing happened. It was just…” You trailed off. You could lie, could come up with something convincing. Something that he wouldn’t be able to verify. Because your clients were none of his concern. 

Except that this client might also be a lead into the ultranationalist group, and that seemed like the kind of information Captain might need to know. If you really wanted to try this whole playing nice thing. 

So you breathed out slowly, bringing your free hand up to rub your eyes. You were tired. Moreso than you should be, really. You blamed the situation. 

“It was a potential new client,” you answered, not looking at him, fingers still pressed into your eyes until stars burst against the dark of your eyelids. “Knew me from Sergio, but didn’t have my contact information. Either didn’t ask Sergio or didn’t want him to know. I’ll find out which.” Another slow breath in. “Normally I would not be telling you this, because my business is not yours, but. He paid me with a check that rerouted to a shell company, one of the ones that I noted.” You shrugged a little, finally lowering your hand, though you still refused to look at him. “I was going to get more solid information first, but you rather forced my hand.” 

Captain was silent for several moments, keeping your hand captured. Then he sighed. “Ace.” 

You glanced at him almost without meaning to, gauging his reaction. But his expression was carefully neutral. 

“I’d prefer if you keep me in the loop on this one. Even if you don’t have solid intel.” He held your gaze easily, blue holding steady but no less intense. 

“Understood.” You managed to crack a smile. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

He scoffed softly but finally released your hand, keeping the USB. “Password?” 

“Reliant.” You smirked a little, still not quite normal but getting there. 

He grunted once in acknowledgement. “Get some food, you look bloody awful.”

The laugh felt punched out of you, almost painful. “Flatterer,” you said without any malice. “You offering?” 

He was silent and still next to you for just long enough that your heart tripped into high gear. Then he chuckled. “Maybe next time, Ace.” 

It was a surprisingly gentle let down, and you left it at that. You stood first and turned away.

Only to stop when a hand wrapped around your wrist. 

“Thank you.” 

You turned slowly to look at Captain, the two words far too sincere to ignore. You honestly had no idea what to do, just staring at him for a moment, before you nodded once. 

You were quick to leave as soon as he released you, heart pounding, head reeling. 

This… had not been the plan. This had not even been anywhere near the plan. 

But he wasn’t wrong. You needed food. And sleep. You could figure out the rest after that. 

Good food was easy to find in Finland, and your hotel was comfortable. You took the rest of the day to get your head on straight and rest up. And also to put out a few emails to some contacts, because you wanted White to give you more information. You doubted he’d be a good source, but maybe you could put a few things together. Maybe it would help. 

Or maybe you’d finally get in too deep and end up where you always suspected you would - an unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere. 

Grimacing at the macabre turn of your own thoughts, you shook yourself and turned on the news for background noise. 

Captain was becoming a distraction. And that was a problem. One you wouldn’t abide. You had too much going on to have him distracting you. 

How to get Laswell to agree, though, was another problem entirely. One that you decided to sleep on. 

Honestly, you meant to talk to Laswell. You did. But you got sidetracked with getting contact information to three of your contacts, and their information to White. Then you had a call from Valeria where you had to dance around an invitation. Then there was the call from a contact of yours who had gotten himself into trouble and asked you for help back out of it… You got busy. 

You were going to deal with him. Eventually. 

Just… Not right now. 

The first text check in was easy to brush off. He’d just asked for status. You just said “busy”. 

That got you two more days of denial and research. Tracking down shell corporations and tracing payments took time.

The second check in was harder to ignore.

Need an ETA.

You grimaced down at your phone, then at your laptop. You had information you could give him, sure, but not as much as you wanted. You had nothing new on White, no new major movements. In your eyes, it wasn’t worth the time to arrange a drop for this. 

Few more days. Chasing down some leads. 

That was… close enough. And gave you enough time to do more digging, put some pressure on some people. 

At least, that was the plan.

That plan very much went to shit when you went out to get some food. You’d gotten half a dozen steps outside your hotel when two men fell in step with you, one on each side. 

“Stay quiet and no one gets hurt,” one of them murmured, low and threatening. You could just see the flash of a pistol under his jacket, pointed at you. 

“May I ask where we’re going?” But you made sure to keep your voice quiet and pleasant. You really didn’t want to get shot again. Laswell would never let you live it down. 

“You can ask.” There was no humor in his voice, but he didn’t make any threatening moves, either. “This way.” He turned down a street, and you followed. He walked a few more blocks to a black van and pulled open the back door. You went in without prompting, shoulders tense. 

This was very much not good. 

The other one pulled a bag over your head, and you sat still and compliant. You had absolutely no desire to get thrown around over this. You needed your head clear to get out of whatever mess this was.

[silvermoon424]

Hi! Found your blog cause I’m trying to get into torrenting and it popped up during my search.

I’m wondering if you might know where I should start? I know I need a VPN, torrent client, and a site to get torrents from. But I’m utterly clueless on everything else.

My laptop is also a toaster and I’m not sure if I can store the files on it. If I plug in a usb drive can I download the files straight to the usb?

And is there a way then to get it to a computer that can burn dvds and then have the files to watch on a dvd?

Sorry for the load of questions, and sorry if there’s any you can’t answer. If you do know any I’ll owe you big time- it’s very appreciated!

@artisticapparitions

Hello there! My piracy guide answers most of these questions.

Also yes, I believe you can direct the download to an external drive. Here is a thread I found discussing it.

Let me know if you need anything else!

[utopicwork]

What does joining piermesh look like? Ordering a piece of hardware with all the software needed on it, or getting some sort of kit/list of components with instructions and a link to software downloads or something?

Youd need to order a TLora V2.1-1.6 (this is necessary for certain custom firmware features) or another Meshtastic compatible board

Youd then need to flash the board with some version of Meshtastics firmware, some places preload Meshtastic but even if they do you should be up to date. This is usually just done with a USB C or Micro cable.

There's a few choices of setups from there but if you have a computer or phone you should be able to download the Meshtastic app or use the web client and you'll be good to go, just download the PierMesh code you need and run it, if you want a serial connection that will require Python.

There is a web interface that PierMesh provides for you to use the service, right now that includes peer to peer messaging, web browsing and proxying

Thats all, though I'm going to provide far more detailed instructions soon

[louisupdates]

Louis Tomlinson ‘Faith in the Future’ World Tour 2023

By: Steve Jennings (Photos and Text) | 11 AUG 2023

English singer-songwriter and former One Direction band member Louis Tomlinson is back out on the road in support of his second album, Faith in the Future. For his second world tour, he’s playing to an ever-growing audience—the crowd I witnessed could not get enough of him as evident from the adoring fans singing along to every word he sang. We spoke to Production Designer, Programmer, and Director Tom Taylor of TANCK about the tour.

Designer Tom Taylor started working on the current tour as the new album’s promo materials and aesthetics came to light. Taylor says it’s a more rugged and asymmetrical look than they’ve gone for before, meant to mirror a sort of dive bar aesthetic rather than a beautiful arena production. “This reflects the music off the latest album, which has a more grungy feel to it. There are touches in there such as the light boxes (loosely resembling the fluorescent lights of a nightclub toilet), and our custom camera housing (a hollowed out old VHS camcorder with a Marshall 4K camera inside) that bring it back to a more intimate venue feel than the true scale of the places we’re playing across the world.”

Taylor notes the show itself has definitely progressed and he would say feels more like a ‘show’ than a ‘gig‘ now; it has a start, middle, and end, with themes and segues to connect them throughout. “The video content is more to set a mood for the songs. We’re trying to stay away from anything too literal and obvious. This extends to the lighting programming as well where we largely refrain from hitting everything on the beat, fully ‘perfect’ timecoded hits throughout the rig. Hopefully the end result is that in those moments where we do go crazy with programming and rhythm, it’s much more interesting and stands out in the set.”

Since 2020, Taylor has worked with Francis Clegg on production design. They had worked together for about five years prior to that and have a complimentary skill set. “We’ve accelerated quite rapidly, taking on a design assistant in Jamie Lawrence and soon to have another member of the team joining,” Taylor says. “Whilst one of us is the company face to each artist or client, we work together 50/50 on every project behind the scenes. James Washer [Lighting Programmer] is often the first name on the team sheet when we pick up a show like this one… he just gets it; is a great programmer and time saving resource who knows how to interpret when I say something like ‘can the lights be a little more aggressive.’ Francis (Clegg) is also a fantastic programmer, so I was able to work alongside James in the rehearsals to finesse the previz programming.”

Although he’s on a MA Lighting grandMA3 surface, Taylor runs the show on MA2 software. The reason for that is because this tour goes everywhere in the world, and he knows he can get an MA2 anywhere without having to lug around small form consoles himself. Taylor much prefers to take a USB stick through an airport. “We are running a lot of things through the desk—lighting, video, camera switching, and automation. The MA makes this easier to deal with and the fixture cloning system is excellent, so I know I’m going to get a good replica of the show no matter what fixtures I get thrown wherever we go.”

The venue sizes this time around sort of called for a video element to be added, Taylor says. “The focus of the show is, of course, Louis, so plenty of close-up camera work to amplify his emotion. These are treated with overlays and masks created by [content creators] Two Suns and ourselves, with 3D animation work coming from Boxcat Studio. The whole system is run on a Resolume server. Camera switching is done from the MA console via Open Control, which sends OSC messages to the ATEM switcher, which ultimately sends it to the capture cards. This way we eliminate a touring video director (sorry!) and save a bunch of truck space on outboard equipment. The system works extremely well.”

Colour Sound Experiment out of London is the tour lighting, video, and rigging company. “We use them for a large portion of our shows. It’s very useful dealing with just one company who ‘do it all’ but also don’t cut any corners or scrimp to get the job done. The equipment is well maintained with a good selection of inventory to choose from.” Taylor says it probably took them about three iterations to get to the point they’re at now, keeping ideas from the previous versions until they got somewhere they were all happy with. “It was a bit of a process, but a great payoff. I should probably thank Louis and his Manager, Matt Vines, for their patience in putting it all together. There are a lot of (literally) moving parts to the stage with winches, light boxes, light bulbs, and our shuttering set piece at the back. Ultimately the show is dynamic and exciting, but all the elements sit nicely together as well.” Taylor was a bit unsure on using the GLP X4 Bars across the back because of the brightness difference to GLP’s FR10, for example, but they are exactly the right brightness for this gig without being overpowering, he says. “My absolute favorite moment of the show, where we have some crazy iridescent hyper color animation, is driven by the Ayrton Huracans… amazing lights, just don’t try to pick one up by yourself, they’re beasts!”

Tomlinson was really involved in the design of this one, and also much more open to trying new things and delivering a narrative through the show, adds Taylor. “Matt Vines should have a shout out for his contribution to the ‘ideas factory’ and being a great sounding board as we developed the show. PM Craig Sherwood has been incredible as always, never asking ‘why’ we want to make it look like a derelict bathroom, just making it happen. Finally, the tour’s secret weapon, technical maestro Sam Kenyon, who is quite literally irreplaceable, has been an excellent resource for actually delivering the show in the real world day after day.”

Production Team

Tour Manager: Tom Allen

Production Manager: Craig Sherwood

Production Design, Programmer & Director: Tom Taylor & Francis Clegg, TANCK

Lighting Programmer: James Washer

Lighting Crew Chief: James Box

Lighting Techs: Rick Carr, Amy Barnett

Stage Manager: Torin Arnold

Technical Manager: Sam Kenyon

Video Crew Chief: Dave Mallandain

Video Programmer: Jack Fone

Video Techs: Tim Curwen, Braden Pettigrew

Camera Operators: Mark Lawrence, Braden Pettigrew, Tim Curwen

Rigger: Mark Lawrence

Vendors

Lighting/Video/Rigging: Colour Sound Experiment/Acc. Rep. Haydn Cruishank

LED Trim: LED Creative

Custom Light Housings: OX Event House

Set Construction: Hangman UK

Video Content: Two Suns Creative, Boxcat Studio, TANCK

SFX: BPM SFX

Gear

Lighting

2 MA Lighting grandMA3 full-size

19 Ayrton Eurus Profile

6 Ayrton Huracan LT Profile

5 Claypaky Mini-B

12 Robe Spiider

72 GLP X4 Bar 20

16 GLP JDC Line 1000

10 GLP JDC1 Strobe

12 CHAUVET STRIKE Array 4

2 Chroma-Q Color Force II 12

16 Elumen8 COB PAR Endura

10 LEDJ Spectra Q15

3 Robe BMFL RoboSpot

Video

2 Resolume Server

23 Custom LED Trim

6 Video Screens, 2.5m x 2.5m

7 Marshall 503 Camera

3 Panasonic UE70 PTZ Camera

2 Blackmagic Design URSA G2 Camera

[elis-pride]

Not to be a weird but maybe don’t let clients have access to the USB ports on your hospitals computers and especially access that is out of sight from the staff? Like I could just put a usb stick in that computer and no one would know.

[sexhaver]

was there a guide you were following for the raspberry pi torrent box setup? that and Plex are the ideal but it seems like a nightmare to figure out

i used this guide to integrate NordVPN via OpenVPN, then this guide from the same site to set up the Transmission client. notably, the second article is slightly outdated as of April 2022, since the "pi" default root user no longer exists to give permissions to. i went through that part of the tutorial using my username ("pihole") in place of "pi" and nothing yelled at me and everything still works so worst case scenario it did literally nothing. i didn't follow the steps for setting up LAN file sharing because im saving everything to an external SSD and then just physically plugging that into my main desktop (USB 3.0 read/write speeds are like 8x faster than Ethernet, lol)

[nonobadcat]

For @oklolnoty

Down the Rabbit Hole - Five Chapters - 20k words - Yandere Shigaraki Tomura x Rabbit Quirk Female Reader

Chapter Navigation: 1|2|3|4|5 🐇 Ao3 Mirror

Rating: 18+ readers only - Minors DNI

Whole story TW: Noncon, yandere with kidnapping, severe quirk based discrimination, binge drinking, canon typical threats of violence (reader directed), canon typical death (nonreader directed), oral (give/receive), PnV (doggie), breeding, and expensive designer clothing everywhere.

Chapter 3: Choice - 4.1k words

TW: Oral (giving), mentions of quirk discrimination, non-con in entertainment media, and sexual harassment

At exactly 1:56 PM, you turned the corner from the main street onto a wide, concrete alley. Low, overcast ceilings hovered down around tall, glossy buildings. Vermillion hues, a product of human smog more than mother nature, washed the bottom of the clouds. From below the eaves of a grey high rise, a pair of narrow eyes, the same color as the sky, glared at you.

Shigaraki kicked off the hard wall, scratching his neck. “Aren’t you supposed to say something like: ‘Sorry, did I keep you waiting?’”

You hiked your bow-studded messenger back over your shoulder and sauntered to his side. Wrapping your hands around his arm, you smirked at him. “Why? I’m not sorry and I didn’t keep you waiting.”

Tomura stiffened. “What are you doing?!” 

Huh��� That reaction? At his age? Guess his mentor sent him to the hostess bar for a good reason.

You clamped down on him and sneered. “It’s 13°C and I’m in yoga pants. Shut up and be grateful for the view.”

Shigaraki’s gaze raked over your outfit. Tactically unzipped to the perfect level, the oversized hoodie gaped open to reveal a grey, ribbed tank almost as touchable as your ears. Its plunging neckline promised more cleavage than it delivered but the way it hugged your tits more than made up for the tease. The yoga pants in question smoothed your thighs and butt into sculpted perfection. Chunky, black sneakers with rhinestone accents added a girlish kick to the casual clothing. Taking a page from Lola Bunny, you wrapped your lop ears high on your head in a velvet bow.

“Hot, right?" you taunted. "It's too bad the club has a formal dress code. I think I causal-up really cute."

He scoffed.

You tugged his arm. "Third floor. Come on."

You dragged your date across the bland, grimey tile and past the money exchange service. A short ride up the cramped elevator carried you to the third floor. The bright, blue and red sign proclaimed “24 hours/365 days a year”. Beyond fingerprint-pocked glass doors lay the hidden depths of “MyStyle Manga Cafe”. You strolled in and dug your membership card out of your bag. 

“I have a reservation for the VIP flatbed pair suite.”

The balding middle age manager scanned your card before handing you a ticket. “Room ten, just next to the copier. Payment is due when you leave.”

You nodded, tugging your victim's arm. Cherry flavored lips brushed against his ear. “I got the one with the locking door. It costs a little more, but you don’t mind paying for the upgrade, right, Tomura?"

Your date inhaled as if he’d been shot in the leg. 

Oh. This was going to be fun.

Only about eight steps from the check-in desk, room ten was a cramped space, barely big enough for two adults. You flopped onto the thick, black floor pads and shoved the foam-stuffed pillow chair aside. The lock clicked from behind. New weight shifted the mat beside you. You rifled through your bag, humming the “item get” tune from Zelda as you produced a cheap USB drive. Within seconds, a pop colored menu burst to life on the computer screen.

“Animal Attraction: Tails of Love!” five different girls cried out from the crackling speakers.

Red eyes narrowed. “What is that?”

“You wanted the real me, right? Today, extra special for your royal pain-in-my-tail, I’m giving you the side I don’t show clients.” You held out a pair of cheap, padded headphones to him and flashed him a crooked smile. “Chase the cat girl, and I will claw your eyes out.”

A few hours later, a fluffy, white haired girl with blazing red eyes and tall rabbit ears stood at the back of an empty lecture hall. She picked at the heart shaped buttons of her pink sundress, refusing to look the player in the eye.

‘The truth is… the professor makes me feel uncomfortable,’ she explained, shifting nervously in her strappy sandals.' ‘Why? Did he do something?’ the player replied. She shook her head. ‘No. Not really. I mean, maybe I’m just imagining it but it just feels wrong. It makes my hair prickle and my stomach hurt when I’m around him.’ Fat tears welled at her pale lash line. ‘He asked me to go to his office hours today to discuss my grades but I... I just… I don’t know. I can’t put it into words.”

Choice:

Calm down. You’re just imagining things.

Your grades are fine, right? Just skip the office hours.

If he makes you uncomfortable, I’ll go with you.

Tomura clicked option 3.

‘Oh no!’ she protested. ‘He hasn’t done anything. I swear.’ Chewing her soft lips, she began to shake. She forced a smile. ‘Anyway, I’m sure I’m just being stupid. I’m sorry to have worried you over nothing.’  As she turned to bolt, the player grabbed her arm. 'Don’t say that about yourself! You’re not stupid!' Hard teeth bit quivering lips. Her nostrils flared. All at once her beautiful face contorted into pure pain. The camera panned high. A detailed CG filled the screen. Crumpled into her thighs, the heroine wailed at the top of her lungs.  ‘I know I’m not! Everyone thinks I am just because I’m a bunny girl!’ she shrieked, grabbing at her ears. ‘I’m so sick of it. Day in, day out it’s ‘Smile for me sweetie. You’re so much prettier when you smile’ and ‘wow… isn’t a bachelor’s degree kinda hard for you?’ and ‘You want to join our club? No problem. Why don’t you grab us some drinks and you can sit here so everyone can see you?’' Twin fists slammed hard against the tile. ‘I’M A PERSON, NOT A MASCOT.’ The player kneeled beside her, their hand hovering for a moment before they pulled it away. “That sounds rough.” ‘It is rough,’ she agreed, fumbling for her abandoned purse. The player held out their hand towel. ‘Here.’ Watery eyes stared up at the player.  ‘Look,’ the player continued. ‘You really aren’t stupid. If you say something is wrong then something is wrong. Even if you don’t want me to come, don’t go by yourself.’ She took the towel with a bright smile and shook her head. ‘No. I want you.’ Red eyes slipped shut as she buried her nose in the terry cloth. ‘I trust you, Tomura.’

Beside you on the floor, the real Tomura sneered. “100% guarantee the professor is a perv.”

You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder. 

His body went rigid.

“Something wrong?”

He coughed, tilting his legs so that his lap remained hidden. “It’s a pretty lame plot device. She should just drop-kick him through a window. Problem solved.”

You clicked your tongue. “It’s not that easy. She’s a senior in college and he manages her internship. If she makes him mad, her chances for getting a reference go up in flames.”

Boney fingers raked his neck. “That’s a load of crap.”

“But realistic,” you argued with a finger wag. “Despite being an indie project, the game got really good reviews specifically because the bunny girl route was such a realistic portrayal of sexual harassment.” A dark shadow filled your face. “Though there were some complaints.”

“Such as?”

Your eye twitched. “Apparently, the bad end wasn’t bad enough. If the player tells her to calm down, she quits school and leaves town, never to contact them again. Several reviewers insisted the professor should have on-camera raped her to really drive the point home that sexual harassment is bad.”

“...so they wanted to watch her get raped so they could whine about how rape is bad?”

“Yup,” you explained, flipping down onto the mat.

“That’s stupid.”

You laughed. “I know, right?! You need to just own your kink at that point! Don’t pretend you don’t like it just to feel morally superior.” 

“You wrote this, didn’t you?”

“Oh no, no, no. I wrote AND coded it.” You slapped the computer and pointed to your head. “There’s more than good hair between these ears.”

“Good hair or good hare?”

“Hares are not the same as rabbits,” you reminded him.

Tomura snorted. “Okay. Okay. I got it.”

“You better!” You shoved his shoulder. “I have no interest in stupid guys.”

He stared down his nose at you. “So why play dumb yourself?”

“No matter what they claim, people have expectations based on appearances,” you muttered with a frown. “A hostess is selling a fantasy. Turns out customers don’t fantasize about smart bunny babes.”

“They should.”

You flashed him a coy grin. “Are you saying I’m not so boring now?”

He scoffed and turned his head, but you caught the pink tinge at the tip of his ears. You hummed knowingly. He scowled and pointed at the screen.

“Why even work as a hostess if you can do this? Was the pay crap or something?”

"No one wanted me."

Tomura raised a peeling brow. "Huh?"

"Well, not for my brains anyway," you huffed, crossing your arms. "One look at my bunny ears and suddenly everything on my resume might as well have read, 'S class whore'. Women whispered behind my back and men kept staring at my tits. No one bothered to hear what I had to say."

Tomura glanced back at the screen. Shining with tears, the bunny girl in the game peered at him from above her declaration of affection. His eyes rolled back to you. "So when did you make the game?"

"College, during my internship." You scowled. "Didn't go so well in the end either."

"The professor?"

You shook your head. "Two 'friends'. One kept demanding I write stuff about heat cycles in the bunny girl route to 'spice it up'. Bunnies don't have heat cycles. They have receptive periods. I tried to explain and he told me I was just being nit picky."

"Receptive periods?"

"Bunnies and cats are induced ovulators, meaning mating causes ovulation. Cats go through a period where they are super horny called a heat. They'd bang anything," you explained, jabbing a finger at the screen. "Female bunnies just become more tolerant of mating for a few days a month called a receptive period. They don’t crave it. It's totally different!"

"And outside that period they claw your eyes out?" he teased.

"Google it if you're so curious."

"So what happened with the other 'friend'?"

“He backed me… At least until I told he figured out I wasn’t just a pussy-machine that you put kindness coins in until it dispensed sex. Then he sided with the other guy.” You pulled your knees to your chin. “I don’t like shallow guys like that, so it wasn’t much of a loss.”

Dry lips pinched into a thin line. 

A mischievous glint sparked in your eye. “Aw… not going to ask me what type of guy I do like?”

He scratched his neck, turning back to the game. 

“Now who’s boring,” you muttered, pressing your cheek to his boney shoulder.

Mechanically, Tomura tapped through the dialogue line by line until the two characters reached the professor’s office. The love interest knocked twice and fixed her companion with a nervous smile before slipping inside. Listening at the door, the player was privy to only half the words shared between the two.

“...concerned for you… Your grades are...” “...doing my best!” “...under a lot of stress.”

Chapped lips quirked into a cruel smile. “Bad flag.”

“Professor! What are you doing!” “...calm down. Just let me—” “No!” THUD.

Tomura whistled. “That escalated quickly.”

You winced at the choices. “This is one of the parts where we got into a debate about the ‘true ending’.”

Choice:

Open the door

Make some noise

Leave. This is not your job.

He tapped the quick save in the top corner. “Two arbitrary choices and an obvious bad end? Pretty typical to me.” He clicked the first option.

The door knob refused to budge.

He save-scummed and clicked the second option.

No one inside the room heard a word.

“Oh.”

You crossed your arms. “The other developers thought the best way to win her heart was to go all ‘hero to the rescue’. However, if you were to do that, she won’t get a reference for a job.” 

Red eyes shifted from you to the screen. With two taps, he quick-loaded the choice again. “Don’t be heroic, huh?” He sneered. “I like it.” 

Tomura tapped the last box. 

The player headed down the hallway, and around the corner. One screen shake later, they found themselves face first in the Dean of Students’ chest. Armed with an authority figure and a set of skeleton keys, the player returned to the scene of the crime. “You lead me on, you little slut!” “No! I swear I didn’t—” “You want to pass this class, right?” “Please don’t!” “Shut up and just—” The Dean shoved his keys into the lock before throwing open the door. “What on earth is going on here?!” Within seconds, the love interest threw herself into the player’s chest. “T-Tomura. I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Work smarter, not harder,” you cheered.

“Chcc…” Brittle nails raked his scabbed neck as he clicked into the next scene. 

Down a long, winding side street, the player walked their love interest back to her home. When they reached the gate, she paused for a moment, digging her toe into the chipping sidewalk. Orange light streamed through the fluffy purple clouds. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, glancing at the player from under long lashes.  "You walked me so far just so I wouldn't be scared." A warm flush flittered over her button nose. "Would you… would you like to come in for a snack before you go home?"

Choice:

I'm not hungry.

Sure.

A manicured hand slapped Tomura on the back so hard he jolted forward. Your claws pointed to the second choice as you cheered. "GET SOME, PLAYER!"

Tomura stuck his pinky in his ear, jiggling it to clear out the ringing noise. "Could you be a little more loud?!" he muttered, selecting the latter option.

You hummed and rolled your eyes.

On screen, the player followed their love interest up a short flight of stairs to a violently feminine bedroom. Pink polka dots and chubby cartoon carrots splattered the bedspread like some sort of kawaii-pox. Impractically sheer curtains provided no privacy from the tall windows. Taking a seat on the heart-studded floor cushions, the player listened as nervous rambling poured from their love interest’s lips. “—could get you some tea if you want? You know, like green tea? You like green tea right? Oh, wait, you might prefer barley… Do you? I don’t know if I have barley but I could go get some really quick from the convenience stor— er… oh… but that’d be rude to leave you alone since there isn’t anyone here right now.” She flushed pink from head to toe, furiously waving her hands. “Not that I planned it like that or anything! I mean… well… maybe I did but it wasn’t for that reason, I swear! I just have something to tell you and it was too embarrassing to say in front of people. Oh crap! No wait! No! I mean, I’m not embarrassed by you or anything! I-I’m just not confident in myself!” She melted into her palms, steam pouring from her ears. “Ohmigosh what am I even saying?!” Confused silence was her only reply. A low thumping vibrated from the speakers. The girl quickly gripped her long leg, forcing it to stop tapping the ground. Red eyes looked everywhere but on the screen. Glossy lips trembled. “I… I’m in love with you!” she blurted out, clipping the old speakers.

Choice:

I love you too

I prefer cat girls

The mouse hovered over the second option for a moment. 

“You’re horrible!” you laughed, elbowing him in the rib.

He sneered at you before clicking the first line.

“Tomura… Can I… Could I kiss you?”

A gentle pop smack popped from the speakers.

“M-maybe… just one more?”

Small tongue clicks matched with a well timed lip bite, kept the IRL Tomura’s eyes glued to the screen.You reached for your purse.

“One more?” she begged, her voice raspy with need.

Tomura shifted, tugging at his pants. The back of your hand grazed his thigh. He didn’t budge. Satisfaction filled your stomach. You leaned in for the kill.

On screen, an erotic CG filled the screen complete with a covert cleavage shot and animated drool pooling at the corner of plush lips. Wet sucking noises split the needy whining. “Ah… Tomura… I feel so hot.”

“Ah… Tomura… I feel so hot.”

Your prey jolted as dual bunny girls echoed in his ears. His head snapped to you. You smirked at him and cupped his thigh. 

His breath hitched. 

Peering at him from below your lashes, you shuffled to your knees.

“What—” he gulped, leaning away “—are you doing?”

Your moist tongue flicked out, tasting your cherry lip balm. “That depends.”

Red eyes flashed to your lips. “On what?”

You chuckled, angling your chest until your top gaped open. Manicured nails dragged down bare skin into the valley between your breasts. “How much do you want?”

“How much of what?”

A fake, high pitched giggle rapidly devolved into a sensual sigh. Your lips grazed his ear. Warm breath tickled his cheek. “Of the truth?”

The mouse hit the floor mat with a soft pap.

“Like all truths, there’s a pretty part and an ugly part.” Walking your fingers up his thigh, you pressed onward with your tease. “The pretty part is I always wanted to try something like this with my boyfriend.” With a nod to the computer screen, you nuzzled baby blue locks from the edge of his jaw. “But of all the guys I’ve dated, you're the only one I know is nasty enough to be down for it.”

You snapped the button on his jeans open. He groaned.

“Neh. Tomura. You know that hostesses can get fired if they sleep with their clients, right?” 

His zipper fell. Your hand slipped below his elastic band. Warm sweat beaded in the pile of wiry, pale curls. You combed lower. Something firm jumped at your touch.

“After all, men pay for the chase. If they catch you, they have no reason to come back. No club wants a hostess that loses clients.”

Tomura’s eyes lulled into his lids as you wormed your way down the shaft. More on instinct than rationale, he leaned into the cushion behind him and arched his hips. Little by little you wiggled him loose from the confines of stretch denim and into the cool air. Musky arousal left a sticky trail up your palm.

“But the ugly truth is I don’t want you to come back. You cause too much trouble, crusty boy.”

Crinkling foil caused his eyes to drift open. You wagged the pink rubber in front of his face, before lowering it to his weeping, red head. Gripping his thigh for balance, you leaned down and wrapped your mouth over the strawberry flavored plastic. You tongued it down his shaft. He gasped.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Tomura.”

He squinted down at you through watery eyes.

With a smirk, you nodded to the screen. “Keep going.”

Click.

“T-tomura… Ah! Wait! When you touch me like that I—!”

Keeping your lips tucked over your teeth, you teased down with pressure, making him fight you just enough to squeeze into your mouth. One hand cupped his shaft as your fingers made a firm ring. The other slipped lower, gently threading his balls between your rolling digits. 

He moaned, closing his eyes. 

You popped off his cock, giving him a long stroke. “Keep going.”

Click.

“Ah… Your tongue! Hah… so wet. **gulp** It’s so different from when I— ngnn!”

You tugged his shirt and caught his gaze. Your tongue fanned wide, taking a languid taste of artificial strawberry. Saliva pooled at the tip before dripping onto him. With rapt attention, he watched the droplet wind its way between every crease of the condom. When it bulged over the rolled rim, his cock throbbed against your mouth.

Click.

“—feels so hot.”

You plunged down over his length, sucking in your cheeks.

Click.

“M-my brain is kinda… ahhhhh… mu-shy…”

Angling him for mid-throat, you pressed on until coarse hair tickled your nose.

Click.

“Just like that! Ohmigosh Tomura I need—”

Who knew crusty boy was packing a good cock? Not some hentai-worthy pussy destroyer or anything but the curve would have been nice to ride. Too bad the girth made your jaw ache. 

Click.

“Tomura. Oh, Tomura. Right there! Please. Hah. S-so close.”

She wasn’t the only one. Half of Tomura’s hand clamped down on your skull. Sharp nails pricked your scalp as he curled most of his fingers into your hair. Insistent tugs set a punishing pace. Your neck burned. Salty snot dripped from your nose. A stream of garbled cuss words slipped from his lips.

Click.

“—gonna! Mmmm gonna—!”

As the screen flashed white, Tomura stuffed you into his crotch. His swollen head pressed hard into your tender throat. You gagged. He groaned. Cum-filled condom ballooned at the back of your tongue. You jerked your head to the side, trying to free yourself.

He ripped his hand away. “Don’t do that!” he snapped.

Hacking into your fist, you glared at him. “Then d-coughcough-n’t choke me, moron!”

Beady eyes narrowed. He grabbed your shoulder and wrapped his legs around your thigh. The world flipped. Your head collided with the hard mat. Vision spinning, you coughed again through painful tears. Tomura snatched up the torn wrapper, dangling it over your chest.

“Watch,” he commanded.

One at a time, he brought his fingers down onto the pink foil. After four exaggerated pinches, nothing appeared to change. You opened your mouth to tell him off just as all five fingers touched the packet. All at once, dry ash fluttered through the air. Your heart slammed against your ribs.

Welp, that explained why he seemed so touch starved.

“Understand now?!” His hard fist smacked  the padding beside your head. “I could have killed you, idiot!”

Between a tight throat and breathless lungs, no words could escape. Ice snaked through your veins. For the first time in a long time, terror rippled across your skin like a shock from a cattle prod. You swallowed, sniffing back tears.

With a deep breath, Tomura rolled off of you and shuffled away. He picked at the drooping plastic like a child picks at bell peppers. Cracking lips pouted. “How do I get this thing off?”

“O-oh…” You shoved off the mat and kneeled beside him. “Here. Let me—”

When your hand bumped his, every hair on your body prickled.

He pulled his arm away and averted his gaze. “Whatever. Don’t force yourself.

You grunted before lunging for his lap. One hand caught his jaw. The other circled his now drooping cock. You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before turning him to watch.

“Not uh. Not until you understand.”

Centimeter by centimeter, you carefully dragged the condom free. Your fingers brushed his weeping tip. It jumped from the contact. The hand on his face trailed down his chest, following every dip until it bumped its twin. Three deft twists and a tight knot secured the payload. You swung it back and forth from your fingers and fixed him with a sultry grin.

“Don’t tell a professional how to do her job,” you warned. 

Tossing the condom over your shoulder, you wrenched his face to yours and locked him in a blazing kiss. His eyes bulged. Your knee slipped between his as your tongue dove through his defenses. Nip after nip, you coaxed him into your clutches. 

A low groan vibrated from his chest. His hands slid up your hips.The hair on your neck prickled. You ignored it, pressing slow, sensual affections deep into his skin. A whiff of your perfume slipped by your nose. Something twitched against your pants. Your toothy grin pricked his chapped lips. 

Got him.

Careful to peel away rather than pull, you scooped up your bag and the evidence of your little ploy. Through heaving pants, he shot you a pointed look. You nodded to the computer clock. It read a quarter to nine.

“I have another arrangement at nine thirty, so I have to get dressed. Make sure you clear out by midnight or they’ll charge you extra.” You nudged his now swollen cock with the tip of your toe. He shivered. Manicured nails clacked on the door handle. “Hope the rest of your night is less boring—” You flashed him a wink. “—Tomura. ❤”

You swung your hips and strutted away.

Violent curses chased you down the hall.

Chapter Navigation: 1|2|3|4|5 🐇 Ao3 Mirror

Next Chapter Expected: July 30th, 2023

Expected Completion Date: Mid-Aug 2023

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[minjaeoriginals]

판도라: The Box of Yujin (Chapter 5)

It was the year 2027, and after several months of Jinsoul being free, Seul felt happy to see her daughter with her again after a year that had felt like a century for the sorrowful mother.

In the former Baek residence, a new tenant was moving in. It was lawyer Lee Haneul, the same woman who was the official attorney for the Ahn family but had not attended the trial against Jinsoul. She had purchased the house and established her new home there with her two dogs in that giant house, similar to a mansion.

Having just finished the moving process, and with the Baek family now residing in a much larger house in a more remote and wealthy area of Seoul, Haneul was preparing to inspect the house.

Flashback to December 15, 2025

Haneul visited Jinsoul at Yeongwol prison, on the outskirts of Seoul.

The blazing sun, combined with the unusual heat for this latitude, made the visit to Jinsoul an ordeal, but it was worth it, according to the young woman, who had used her only phone call of the day to convince the family’s attorney to buy the Baek house, as it was almost certain it would be put up for sale after the Yujin incident.

Once inside, Haneul sat down and stared intently at Jinsoul: "Tell me what you need, my time is gold," the lawyer exclaimed, thinking that perhaps the young woman had wasted her time.

"Buy the Baek house," Jinsoul said while clasping her hands and taking the lawyer’s in hers. "That’s where the evidence you need to win is." Jinsoul looked back at her. "I know you’ll be smart enough to use it in court," she asserted, trusting in what Yujin had told her some time ago.

"What evidence are you talking about?" the lawyer asked, utterly confused—her bewilderment was reflected in her expression. "Everything has already been investigated by the police and the prosecution. There’s no evidence that could save you, and if there had been, why do you want to save yourself now and not when you got into this mess?" Haneul questioned Jinsoul, trying to make her understand the confusion she felt over this "help."

"Buy their house. Once you do... check the garden. In the back, there’s a wooden barrel; behind it, stuck to it, there’s a box that contains what you need. Inside, there’s a USB drive and some writings that will help you understand this." Jinsoul slowly explained everything Yujin had confessed to her that June afternoon at school.

The lawyer didn’t quite understand what Jinsoul was getting at, but she decided to trust her client and did as she asked.

After a year and several months of negotiations, she managed to buy the Baek mansion and moved in.

End of flashback

Determined to inspect every corner of the house, but with the urgency to start where Jinsoul had specified back then, she searched for the barrel the young woman had previously mentioned.

After an arduous search through the mansion’s vast and lush garden, she found the barrel, which seemed useless at first glance. It was empty inside and appeared to be an old barrel that could have been discarded at any moment; it seemed like the owners had either forgotten to get rid of it or simply chose not to.

Behind that barrel was the box. The chest was made of high-quality wood and opened easily, though it had a lock that ensured that if anyone found it, they wouldn’t be able to open it. The key was in the plant next to the barrel.

Once she found the key, the lawyer took a deep breath and inserted it into the golden, gleaming padlock. The box opened easily, revealing several folded papers and the USB drive that had been mentioned earlier. Haneul set out to examine them all.

"Why would this pile of writings be useful to determine the real cause of death?" she wondered in a state of evident confusion.

Once she finished reviewing the documents, she ran to her room to insert the USB drive into her computer. She was stunned by the massive amount of videos stored in that external memory.

That USB stick contained all the security camera recordings from the room adjacent to the kitchen. Those recordings showed the daily and constant verbal abuse, 24 hours a day, that the now-deceased Yujin endured from her mother.

Although the security cameras had not been considered in the investigation, since the crime had not occurred in the Baek house, this clue, combined with Yujin’s writings, could be extremely useful if Haneul decided to file a lawsuit against the Baek family.

Immediately after reviewing the recordings, which displayed this inhumane behavior from the mother toward her daughter, Haneul called Seul to inform her that she could file a lawsuit against the Baek family, as they had accused Jinsoul of a crime she had not committed.

All of this was based on the theory that it could have been a case of "incitement to suicide" rather than Jinsoul’s fault. This could prove that Jinsoul had only wanted to help her friend and had not killed her.

"Seul-nim, Jinsoul told me something a year and a half ago... I think I found a way to make the Baek family pay for framing Jinsoul," the lawyer declared as she stared in total bewilderment at the recordings with their disturbing audio.

"What did she tell you, and why do you think you can achieve now what you failed to do two years ago?" Seul asked, growing interested in what she was hearing, though she remained skeptical that Haneul truly had a plan.

"I saw it. I have the recordings and Yujin’s writings. I moved into the old Baek mansion," Haneul answered Seul’s question.

"Haneul-ah, don’t lie... I forgave you once, but never twice," Seul responded, somewhat irritated.

"We can meet anytime. I have so much confidence in this that I see no reason to lie to you about it," Haneul insisted, exuding confidence in the evidence she had just found.

"It better be worth it. If this is a lie and you waste my time, not only will you lose your job, but I will make sure you never work again in your life... do you hear me? Think twice before confirming. I will show no mercy if necessary," Seul declared without a hint of hesitation.

Hours later, they met at the "Nakdong" café, located near the subsidiary headquarters of the Chinese company JD.com in Gangnam-gu. It was owned by Seul’s husband, a Chinese millionaire, although this fact was not publicly disclosed.

This place was known for being frequented by various celebrities and wealthy people, given its excellent service, exclusive food, and exorbitant prices. The modernly designed building had giant windows that reflected the sun shining in the middle of the uniquely warm Korean summer.

They sat down, and then Seul, with a cold gaze and an unfriendly demeanor, was ready to hear what Haneul had to say.

Although hesitant at first, the lawyer proceeded to recount what she had found in her brief investigation after examining the box she discovered in the former Baek residence: "I saw it. There is a USB drive that contains many recordings of verbal abuse and some of physical abuse from Yujin’s mother toward her. The writings inside also, in some way, support my theory." Haneul said with a slight hesitation but managed to finish the first part of her account.

"So, you’re telling me you have all this evidence? If that’s real, where is it?" Seul asked, her gaze shifting from cold to fierce and challenging.

"I have them in the former Baek mansion, that is, my house. I bought it on Jinsoul’s recommendation." Haneul subtly replied, trying not to let fear take over, knowing that this could cost her job forever.

At first, she had felt very confident, but now she increasingly felt that it had been reckless to inform her beforehand, and now she was caught up in an incident alone. If it went wrong, it would be the end—not only of her career as a lawyer but essentially of her life.

"I’ll believe you then, as long as I see them myself. Take me to your house," Seul said.

Thanks to her experience as an actress, she knew how to intimidate Haneul into feeling like every move she made could turn her into a ticking time bomb, a bomb of growing anxiety.

After the meeting, they arrived at Haneul’s house. The house had been recently tidied up and was very clean since she had finished cleaning it just a few days ago. This made it much more visually pleasing overall.

Once seated on the main living room couch—a soft and plush seat thanks to its sheepskin cover—Haneul proceeded to show the videos stored on the USB she had found recently. To display them without disrupting Seul’s comfort, the lawyer chose to project them on the house’s "Home Cinema," on a giant screen with the best possible audio quality, as if they were about to watch a movie.

That "movie", if it could be described, would be a mix between a drama and a horror film. Jinsoul’s mother couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

At times, she thought it might have been edited or manipulated with the help of AI, but the images were so realistic and clear that, even if she didn’t want to accept it, there was no way to deny that what was being shown in that room was as real as life itself.

The sound from the "Home Cinema" was so immersive and lifelike that the abuse and mistreatment could be felt as if Seul were in Yujin’s place. Perhaps this could give her just a glimpse of what Yujin had felt every day, experiencing these incidents firsthand, constantly and without interruption.

"TURN IT OFF!!!" the woman screamed in desperation, covering her ears and with tears in her eyes.

Even though Yujin wasn’t her daughter, the experience felt disturbing enough for her to never want to go through it again. And it had only been two minutes of footage.

Just imagining more—living through it every day—made Seul think that it was truly possible that Yujin had chosen to take her own life because of her mother and that Jinsoul had really tried to prevent her death.

Haneul stopped the recordings when Seul requested it; nevertheless, she waited for Mrs. Ahn to pull herself together.

Afterward, she decided to ask Seul if she believed her and if she finally wanted to take this case to court.

Seul, unable to regain composure after what she had just witnessed, avoided answering as her mind kept replaying the experience, seemingly unable to let it go.

Yujin’s screams, the degradation inflicted on her by her mother with every insult, and the violence in each recorded clip were more than terrifying. All of it echoed and seeped into Mrs. Ahn’s mind, who couldn’t believe that Yujin had endured all of this while still managing to appear fine around her daughter.

"No… no…" Seul entered a state of shock, grabbing her head, panting, and feeling much more overwhelmed than usual.

"Seul-nim, are you okay?" Haneul began to worry.

"Here, have some water. This is going to be difficult to process." Haneul handed Seul a glass of water, hoping she could take it and calm down a bit.

Instead, Seul was unable to hold the glass properly and dropped it, breaking it.

The sound of the glass shattering only reminded her of the previous experience, further intensifying her anxiety and stress.

Each passing minute made everything clearer, and Seul felt that the things that hadn’t made sense before were now falling into place.

[duchesspeggy]

Aujourd'hui, c'était la fête de la librairie indépendante. Du coup, voici un inventaire de ce que vous pouvez trouver dans mes poches de libraire:

un bic quatre couleurs, offert par bic. Je me fais tout le temps voler les stylos sur mon bureau par des collègues, donc j'en garde toujours au moins un dans mes poches (pour laisser des mots doux aux collègues voleurs de stylos, rédiger des avis de recherche ou prendre la commande de Mme Michu qui passe pendant la panne informatique)

3 stylos effaçables, essentiels pour le travail des bons de commandes transmis aux éditeurs (parce que je change souvent d'avis du coup c'est mieux si le bon n'est pas raturé de partout). Les 3 couleurs différentes, c'est juste mon kiff personnel pour adapter le bon à mon humeur

une clef usb pour le vol de données (en vrai c'est surtout pour récupérer les exemplaires numériques qu'on reçoit parfois de parutions futures)

2/3 marques-pages. Bah oui, quand même (leur nombre varie selon mon nombre de lectures en cours)

la liste des numéros internes et surtout, le mode d'emploi du téléphone. Outil plus que vital, je comprends pas que tous mes collègues ne fassent pas comme moi (à la place, ils viennent me voir quand ils ont une question sur un numéro, ça se défend)

un carnet offert par une maison d'édition random, sélectionné pour son format idéal pour une poche. Il a été rafistolé 20 fois avec du scotch, la couverture se barre à moitié et les pages sont cornées de toutes les façons possibles, n'empêche que pour noter la commande de Mme Michu en pleine panne informatique, c'est bien pratique

(Bon j'avoue, c'est faux. La commande de Mme Michu, elle part sur un post-it et puis c'est tout. Le carnet, c'est pour tous mes pense-bêtes sur le long terme, les commandes pour des salons, les relances à faire, les projets futurs etc.)

il sert aussi à rédiger les critiques, coups de coeur, recueillir des citations... y a ma liste de courses aussi et le portable de mon patron, bref que des choses utiles

un 2e carnet, parce que j'adore les carnets et que je fais ce que je veux. Celui-là, c'est juste pour mes pensées personnelles, parce que j'ai une vie intérieure très profonde (j'avoue, c'est juste pour noter les idées d'écrits quand j'en ai)

un post-it sur lequel une collègue qui n'est plus là a fait un dessin moche de moi <3 Je veux être enterrée avec

ah oui et un téléphone aussi. quand même. des fois que des clients ou des collègues essaient de me joindre (j'ai le numéro d'urgence) (pour de vrai en plus. J'alterne entre 3 postes, leurs codes internes c'est 15, 17 et 18) (le 18 étant celui que j'utilise le plus fréquemment) (c'est aussi le petit surnom des toilettes, allez savoir pourquoi) (et là, je prie pour ne pas avoir de collègue sur tumblr, j'en ai beaucoup trop dit)

(Oui, j'ai tout ça dans mes poches tous les jours. Je vois pas le problème)

Et en bonus, les objets que je vais probablement rajouter dans les prochains jours parce que vraiment, libraire c'est un post tout terrain en fait:

un mètre à mesurer. le nombre de fois où j'en ais eu besoin ces dernières semaines et personne n'en avait sous la main est trop élevé pour être ignoré

un surligneur. incroyable que je n'en ai pas encore mis dans mes poches, je sais. Pour ma défense, je suis quand même beaucoup derrière un bureau et les surligneurs disparaissent (un peu) moins que les stylos

EN PARLANT DE VOL, LES CISEAUX! J'ai 3 bonnes paires de ciseaux, elles font des jaloux, je pars à leur recherche tous les matins. Inadmissible

(Pourquoi 3 ? Sachez que dans une autre vie, on m'a dit que j'avais des instincts de charognarde, j'espère que ça répond à votre question)

(qualité ? "bonne capacité d'anticipation, fait des réserves") (meilleure appréciation que j'ai reçu de ma vie)

des post-it. J'en ai plein à mon bureau, mais c'est fou comme ça se balade ces petits trucs. Et puis des fois, je quitte mon post hein

[limoserviceseo]

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[andmaybegayer]

My setup is as follows: computer running bluez + usbip client <- LAN -> other computer with physical bluetooth USB dongle + usbip server.