#i earned a slightly more complex design

[enclarice]

Bayou the dragon, a stunted potential cradle god.

Bayou was a fish who, despite several setbacks, through determination and sheer force of will, completed the tribulations to become a dragon.

Through the worlds will he was set to become a god ,however soon after his ascension he was found by mozun and entered a contract that restricted his potential and bound him to mozun "the god of water" a traveling god.

After adjusting out of his more simple fish mindset and finding the cost of the contract, Bayou entered a state of rage that lasted hundreds of years. luckily over said time he has mellowed out to a calm ,if not jaded, temperament ,but his past anger has yet to leave his face.

Let me info dump my cool guy ideas into your brain please.

To the person who requested something a while ago: I did part of it in a state of pure inspiration, then I got really sick and lost said inspiration and now I just stare at it, but I swear I can feel it, I'm almost there my body is almost ready to stop procrastinating.

[bangtaninborderland]

JIKOOK X READER - TAKE TWO

Summary: You disobey both of your doms, your boyfriends on their only day off, earning a difficult punishment only it goes wrong, leaving all three of you struggling.

Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, misheard safe word, oral, degrading names, mean doms jikook, spanking, hair pulling, choking, face slapping, humiliation, pet play, collars, d/s dynamic, threesome ish??

A/N: I’d had this in my drafts and decided to finish it, what do ya think? Also I’m sorry this was supposed to be all smut but I can’t help giving them angst, there is a happy ending.

BTS Masterlist

You knew when you got home you would be in trouble, both Jimin and Jungkook had firmly told you that you couldn’t go out tonight, that they both wanted you home so you could enjoy some free time together.

You didn’t listen.

In hindsight, the idea of disobeying both of your boyfriends, your doms, seemed great in the moment but as the taxi edged closer to home you felt both excitement and guilt pool in your stomach.

Realistically you knew that you’d wasted a day of their only free time, both of them having vastly different schedules now due to the solo work meant that it was a rarity for the three of you got to spend time together other than to sleep but you felt neglected, even if you wouldn’t voice it out loud you needed them to pay attention to you and if that meant a little disobedience to push them into punishing you then so be it.

You hadn’t gotten drunk, in fact, you’d chosen an empty corner of the club and sat there all night. Ignoring looks and offers alike.

The taxi pulled up outside the apartment complex and you were sure that the journey went a little faster today. You paid the fare, selfishly dragging out the time it took you to find the exact change.

You opted to take the stairs rather than the elevator, something you slightly regret as you climb to the tenth floor, forehead a little sweaty as you push open the front door.

You knew they were both home, the shoes stacked up at the door informed you of that. You slipped your own off, along with your coat and hung them on their designated hooks. Jimin had punished you more than once for throwing the items on the floor in your excitement to join them with whatever they were doing.

You lightly tread through the apartment, ready to exit up the stairs towards the bedroom when a hand grips your shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going.”

“Kook.” You breathed out, stomach in knots as you spun on your heel to look at him. “I-I was just going to freshen up.”

“Is that what you really want to call me right now?” Jungkook's voice was low. “In the playroom, you know how we expect you.”

“But-“ you started, cut off by a firm grip on your throat.

“I will bend you over right here and make your ass the darkest fucking shade of red.” Jungkook cursed. “Don’t push me right now.”

You nod in response, the second he releases his grip you make your way to the spare room jimin had converted into a playroom. You still felt a in awe every time your foot crossed the threshold, the carpeting that had once covered the floor had been ripped out and replaced with wooden flooring, and washable rugs placed around the room.

The queen-sized bed was against the wall directly in the middle of the room. Draws lined the right wall, they had been filled with a variety of things ranging from toys to collars, to condoms and lube, even a closet in the corner filled with the most delicate outfit, all of which were hand-picked by your dominants. The entire room was a display of just how much they cared for you and loved you.

You stripped down to your panties, folding your clothes and placing them atop the small bedside table. You shifted to your knees, your body faced away from the door, your head down.

The one thing the room lacked was a clock, you hated that more than anything. You had no way to tell just how long they kept you waiting, kept you on the edge, mind overcome by anticipation.

The door was pushed open and you could hear footsteps behind you unfortunately whatever one of your boyfriends it was didn’t speak. You couldn’t ask who it was, not if you didn’t want to face adding to your punishment so you sat there staring at your hands.

A light touch to your neck had you even more puzzled, Jungkook's nails were shorter than Jimin's, and Jimin's fingers were softer than Jungkook's but you couldn’t figure it out. Not until your hair was being tugged pulling your head back giving you a clear view of the perpetrator.

Jimin.

He grinned. “What is my name.”

“Sir,” you answered.

“See.” Jimin clicked his tongue. “Jungkookie thinks you have forgotten how to address us. Is that true?”

“She has Hyung.” You strain against Jimin's grip to search for Jungkook but it’s to no avail. Wherever he is, you can’t see him. “Called me Kook earlier even though the little slut knew she was in trouble.”

“Now Jungkook, let’s not be hasty hm? Let’s give baby a chance to explain herself.” Jimin looked back at you, his eyes holding a familiar darkness.

Regardless of what you say you know he’s going to make your punishment hurt. You opt for silence, eyes focused on his lips.

In his dominance Jimin was powerful. His height, his build, and his physical strength had absolutely nothing to do with it. No, see, Jimin didn’t need to be muscly to be powerful. One look from him had you ready to drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness for whatever transgression you’ve committed. He was harsher than Jungkook, he was a sadist of sorts. He would never hurt you enough to make permanent marks but he revelled in the way he could turn your skin shades of red and purple.

Jungkook was entirely the opposite, he knew the strength he possessed because of his muscles. His form loomed over yours like a predator ready to attack its prey but still, he didn’t need to use his strength, he knew how to punish and play in other ways. He would ask you a question only to slap you whenever you opened your mouth, he would whisper sweet nothings all whilst choking the oxygen out of your lungs.

And you fucking loved it. You loved the way they both knew how to mould your body to their will, how to play off one another to keep you excited, and on the edge.

The only downfall was that they had picked up traits from one another, so much so that at certain times jimin would act more like Jungkook than Jungkook himself did, still, it only fuelled your fun.

“Sir asked you a question.” Jungkook reminded as he came out from behind Jimin.

“I-“ you began to answer before stopping yourself instead of opting to shake your head.

“That’s not much of an answer is it?” Jimin feigned a pout. “Is that a “no I don’t remember.” Or is it more of a “no I haven’t forgotten?”

You looked between Jimin and Jungkook before Jimin released his painful grip on your head, taking a step back as jungkook half crouched to meet your ear. “Did either of us permit you to look at us? You act disobedient and think you have the right to look at us whenever you want. Look at the floor, I don’t want to see you so much as move your head”

You bit back a whine as you focused your eyes on a spot on the floor between your legs.

“Now back to my question.” Jimin was further away now, you couldn’t see where though. “Have you forgotten how to address us?”

You shook your head again, not wanting to risk extending your punishment any further by speaking without permission.

“Speak puppy.” You could hear the smile in Jungkook's voice as he spoke the pet name. “You can talk.”

“I haven’t forgotten Sir.” You respond, still looking at the floor.

“Who am I, baby?” Jungkook asked, his voice low. “What do you call me hm?”

“Master.” You can’t stop the flush of red that graces your face as you mumble the title.

Jimin laughs, his stare is cold. “You say that but your actions prove otherwise, I can’t help but think you’re lying. Kookie, baby, what do I always say about liars?”

“They should be reminded of their place.”

“That’s right, I think we should show her exactly where she belongs and who she belongs to so for the next 24 hours you aren’t going to do anything without either of us permitting you to do so. If you need a break to use the restroom then tap one of us twice, if you’re restrained or we are out of reach then you have permission to tell us verbally but other than that I don’t want to hear you unless you’re told to speak, I want to see you on your knees unless we say otherwise.” Jimin takes a few steps closer, voice softening as he caresses your hair. “If you want to safe word out you can at any moment you can, if you don’t want to go ahead with this tell me now and we can choose alternative punishment.”

“I’m good Sir.” You whisper, leaning into his touch. “Thank you.”

“Have you eaten?” Jimin asks, crouching down so his face is in view.

You had, but not since lunchtime. “I had lunch, nothing else, Sir.”

He hums, thumb brushing over your lips. “Have you drank?”

You shook your head, you really hadn’t. Getting drunk hadn’t been the aim of your disobedience.

“Words darling.” Jungkook reminds.

You so badly want to look at them. “No Sir.”

“Okay, I’ll heat up some food, your master will keep you company.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek before standing up. “Be good.”

And with that he is gone, leaving you alone with the younger of the pair. “Why did you disobey us?” Jungkook wonders, you hear his footsteps as he walks closer to the bed.

You debate ignoring the question but your doms hated that just as much as they hated lying. “I wanted attention, Master.”

“Little embarrassing, don’t you think? We were so excited to spend the day with you, even had it all planned out, only for you to choose some sleazy club over us.” One thing you learned about Jungkook as a dominant was that his words hurt just as much as his spankings, he never let you shy away from the reality of your words and actions. “You’re lucky we have another free day tomorrow.”

You perk up at that, unable to stop yourself jerking your head up to look at him. “Really?”

He stares at you, as though anticipating your every move. His mouth went from a forced smile to a blank canvas. “No, but now you know how hopeful we felt at the idea of coming home to you only to find the apartment empty. Head down, if I have to tell you again I’ll tie you up here and leave you all alone.”

You looked down immediately, heart heavy and stomach-churning despite the empty threat. You knew neither of them would breach one of your limits and being restrained and alone was one of them.

You hear the sheets shifting as he sits on the bed. “Crawl to Me.”

You don’t hesitate to move, the floor rough against your bare knees.

“You’re going to keep my cock warm until your food is ready.” He explains, unzipping his hands and laying back.

You spring into action, giving his cock tiny kitten licks eventually lifting his shaft to wrap your lips around his balls.

When you’d first become their submissive they had both given you a month of ‘training’, each of them showing you just how to please them. At the end of the month, they decided they would do the same, the four weeks had been spent in a state of overstimulation as they tried out every little thing they could, eventually focusing on what made you most desperate.

Jungkook groans, his hands falling onto the bed. “Fuck puppy.”

The sound only encourages you more, you take the head of his cock into your mouth before letting its length fill your throat. Within a few seconds your nose was brushing against his skin, he gave you a few seconds to adjust before bringing his hand to the back of your head and guiding your movements. You wince a little as his grip tightens when you moan around his cock.

Somehow you get carried away with time, jungkook alternating between having you cock warm him and slowly sliding his length in and out of your mouth. Your lack of a gag reflex came in handy for whenever he wanted to use you like this.

You don’t hear the door open so the sound of Jimin’s voice has you jumping in surprise, reflexes making you pull away from his dick. Jungkook is quick to stop you, hand gripping your neck before you can move away completely. “Relax.”

You go limp on his touch, letting him guide you back down. “It’s a shame you can’t be this good all the time.” He brushes a few strands of hair out of your face, thrusting a few more times before cumming down your throat.

You swallow it as it comes, choking only once as it hits the back of your throat. He pulls you off as soon as he is finished, Jimin already beside you with wipes. “Here.”

You turn your face to him, gaze still on the floor where he has set your dinner tray. It was rare food was ever brought into the playroom, both Jimin and Jungkook being meticulous about the mess it could cause. You let Jimin wipe you clean, you yearned for both praise and reassurance but considering this was a punishment you were sure you’d get none.

When he was done with your face he began putting your hair up, his hands gentle as he brushed out the knots, you let your eyes close for a few seconds before opening them again to watch as the steam flew away from your food. “You can eat now.”

You can’t deny the food looks good, they were both amazing cooks but the lack of utensils has you frowning. You want to ask but the earlier warning speaks to you in your mind, you take another breath before reaching a hand out to pick up a piece of meat only to have your hand smacked down.

“Did I tell you to use your hands?” Jiminn asks, Jungkook still in his previous spot on the bed. “You’re so silly, you can’t even figure this out without help. You’re going to eat like a good puppy, okay?”

You put your hands back on your thighs before bending to lap at the food, you can’t help but want to die from the sheer humiliation of it. You had expected a punishment, you’d expected to be spanked and probably denied a few orgasms but you hadn’t meant to get a punishment this serious, you only wanted their attention.

You lost your appetite fairly quickly but you knew how much pride Jimin took in taking care of those around him so you continued to force bites down, the bitterness of your actions weighing on you heavily, if you had just listened and stayed home this wouldn’t have been happening.

Jungkook's voice pulls you from your thoughts as you force down another mouthful. “You can finish that and then I will shower you, you’ll sleep in the guest room tonight. You didn’t want to be around us all day so I figured one extra night wouldn’t hurt.”

You wanted to argue back, to tell them that wasn’t why but instead you stayed quiet, it hadn’t been a question and you hadn’t been asked to speak. The next 24, now 23 hours were looking very long.

You ate as much as you could before pushing the plate away, being practically naked was never an issue but eating your food practically naked was a humiliating feat and you were sure your doms knew of that, they knew what they were doing.

“We will be back soon, don’t move.” Jungkook picks up your plate, Jimin trailing behind him.

The door closes with a soft click, the silence is deafening. You couldn’t help but wonder what they were talking about, you always wondered what kinds of discussions they had in moments like these, you were sure they had them ‘dom discussions’ you had begun calling them but you’d never been privy to one and probably never would be.

Once again the lack of a clock in the room becomes apparent, not even the simple ticking of a clock to keep you company.

You missed them, you missed them so much that all you could feel was anger towards yourself for your actions, your stupid actions.

You were left alone with your thoughts for a little too long and by the time the duo returned, washed and dressed, you were on the brink of tears.

“Shower time.” Jimin declared, he helped you stand before detracting himself completely, they walked in front of you as always. “Be good.” He warns before walking off to the main bedroom, the one you all shared.

Jungkook had already had the water running, the temperate a little colder than usual but still relaxing. The dominant washed your hair, the whole shower passing rather fast as he wasted no time getting you clean.

“How do you feel?” He asks, tone still firm.

“Okay Master.” You mumble back, enjoying the few light touches you got as he washed the soap out of your locks. It wasn’t a complete truth but punishments weren’t supposed to feel good, you weren’t going to complain any more when you had brought this on yourself.

He grunted in response. The water turned off when he deemed you finished. “Out.”

He wraps you in a towel before walking you to the guest bedroom. “You won’t need clothes tonight. Don’t come out of the room until one of us gets you.”

You nod, it was simple instructions really. He caresses your cheek for a second before turning around and walking away, you want to call out for a hug or a kiss but you can’t. “Goodnight.” He mumbles, closing the door behind him.

You stare at the door for a second before looking around the room, it is empty, no one other than Hoseok stayed here one night the previous year, you could hear Jimin and Jungkook laughing with each other and it created a ball of bitterness in your chest.

You turned the light off and climbed into the bed, the sheets cold and scentless. The annoyance you felt at yourself had multiplied, tripled and then tripled again, you know realistically you could safe word but that wouldn’t be right, you deserved whatever punishment they see fit.

It was safe to say you had never slept as badly as you did last night, you spent the majority of the night tossing and turning in between crying fits. Despite the fact that the loves of your life were just a few feet away you’d never felt more alone.

Jimin and Jungkook had to have been awake for at least two hours by the time they remembered you, the door opening slowly enough for you to drop into a suitable position on your knees.

“Good morning,” Jimin mumbled, pulling back the curtains. The lack of pet names hurt but you ignored it.

You tried to sound happier. “Good morning Sir.”

“Did you sleep okay?” He asked, rummaging and dropping a nightgown into your lap. “Put that on.”

“Yes Sir.” You answered to both questions, you could suck it up for another day.

He waits until you have the fabric over your head before giving you your next instruction. “Go downstairs, your food is ready in the kitchen. You can walk down the stairs but I don’t want to see you standing the rest of the way.” He gives you a little nudge when you hesitate.

You get to the kitchen as fast as your body will allow, still lacking an appetite but eager to please you delve into the pancakes on the dinner tray. Jungkook isn’t in the room but you’re sure he’s in the apartment and you haven’t heard the front door open or close.

“Good morning pet,” Jungkook spoke loudly, making you jump a little before you compose yourself mid-bite.

You swallow your food before responding. “Good morning Master.”

“Sleep well?” He asks, you hear the tap running. “I know I did, Hyung was very warm all night.”

You don’t take another bite after that, you settle for staring at the plate. “Yes, Master.”

“Hm, I think I’ll take your Sir for a morning bath, you can clean up from breakfast.” And with that, he leaves the room and you are alone with it.

You fall back on your ass, the coldness of the floor not bothering you. You wait until you hear the water running to cry, you tried to hold back, it was a punishment, one you earned, but it hurt.

All you wanted was time with them.

You gave yourself another minute of crying before brushing the tears away, splashing some cold water on your face and beginning the dishes. There weren’t many but you took your time, this was something you could do perfectly.

You finished within 20 minutes, not sure what to do you chose the safest option and sat back on the floor, head hanging low as you mapped out the design on the tiles. You’re thankful for the little clock that tells you that you have been waiting for an hour and 25 minutes when the two return hand in hand. The smell of their body wash is strong, and comforting.

“Oh look, you can do something right.” Jimin praised backhandedly but still, you took it. “Come, I want you to ride my cock, put a show on for your Master.”

You were led to the living room, a rare occurrence in scenes although not so much punishments. Jimin was already half hard and you were sure it was because they had probably been fooling around in the shower, without you.

Jungkook sat opposite you, Jimin bunching up your nightgown as he pulled you into his lap, rubbing his clothed member against your ass. “Doesn’t she look pretty like this?”

“Useful more like.” Jungkook scoffs, arms resting atop the back of the couch. “She looks best when she’s sitting on one of our ducks, where she is made to be.”

You groan a little at that, the words both sting and turn you on.

“No one wants to hear you, shut up.” Jimin complains, shoving you to stand up as he pushes his shorts down. “I want you to sit here and be quiet, you’re nothing more than a pretty little flashlight for me to enjoy. Toys don’t make noise.”

You bite your cheek, and the feeling of his hardening member inside of you makes you want to rock back but you know better, you take what’s given to you as the pair continue their conversation as though you’re invisible.

“You wanna watch a movie?” Jungkook asks, toying with the control.

“Yeah, not an action though, maybe a romance?” Jimin adds, slapping your thigh as you gasp when he moves his hips. “Actually an action is probably better, to drown out the unwanted noise.”

Jungkook smirks and you bite down the sadness that swims in your chest.

The movie starts and Jimin stays still other than shifting every few minutes, you can’t help the way you get wet.

You drown out their conversation, counting the amount of black spots you can see on the rug only to be pulled back by a slap to your cheek. “You’re sitting here doing nothing yet you still can’t fucking listen?”

“S-sorry.” You stutter out.

“Fucking pathetic,” Jungkook mumbles as he takes his seat again.

The words run heavy in your mind, pathetic, stupid, useless and suddenly you’re silently crying with Jimin still inside you. You’re thankful the movie really does block out unwanted noise.

Maybe you were unwanted in general.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, make as much noise as you want.” Jimin growls in your ear, hands groping your tits as he fucks into you. His movements are fast, a sign he has been holding back for a while. You let out soft gasps and moans, his cock filling you up with more than you can handle but despite that you know, you just know you aren’t enjoying it.

“Yellow.” You whisper, you expect everything to stop but it doesn’t, nothing stops, in fact, jimin speeds up hips stuttering as he chases his release. “N-no” you speak a little louder.

You look at Jungkook, his head snapping to yours and Jimin thrusts inside you one last time and cums, as though just processing everything jungkooks eyes widen. “Hyung pull out now.”

“What?” Jimin asks, confused. “Wh-

You can no longer hold back your sobs, the second they tear free jimin is carefully pushing you off him and cradling you in his arms. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Baby, are you hurt?”

You can't muster a response, you just let yourself cry spewing endless apologies. “Sorry I’m-I’m sorry.”

“I think she safeworded.” Jungkook explains, running in with the box of things you’d compiled together for incidents just like this. “Here, water.”

You feel a bottle being pressed to your lips. “Baby, can you drink for me?”

“No S-sir.” You shake your head.

“Not sir baby, just min okay?” Jimin rubs a hand through your hair, Jungkook holding your hand and drawing circles to help you calm down.

“Such a good girl, you did so well, I’m so so proud of you.” The younger of the pair spoke, still holding the open bottle of water. “Please try and drink some for me sweetheart.”

You move your head out of Jimin’s chest with great reluctance, taking a few sips of water before denying it anymore.

“Thank you,” Jimin whispers in your ear. “Are you ready to talk about what happened?”

“Can we- bedroom?” You ask, too drained to explain it all.

“Of course,” Jungkook answers, taking you out of Jimin’s arms and carrying you up the stairs to the main bedroom.

Only when all three of you were settled into the bed, you in the middle with one of them on either side, did they prompt you to start talking.” Take your time darling.”

You don’t exactly know how to explain it to them. “I guess.. it didn’t feel good? I know punishments aren’t supposed to, but this hurt emotionally.”

“Okay.” Jungkook squeezes your hand, his fingers interlaced with Jimin’s behind you. “Thank you for sharing that baby, can you explain when it started to feel like that?”

“Yesterday when I…” you trailed off.

“Sucked me off?” Jungkook supplied and you nodded.

“I just thought I was being too emotional but you didn’t comfort me at all and I had no reassurance. Neither of you touched me more than you physically had to and then being secluded in the second bedroom just made me feel shut out and unwanted.” You feel embarrassed at how silly it sounds, you did wrong and were punished, of course, it would have been difficult for you.

They both take a moment to process it, Jungkook looking a little more sullen. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“Anything else you want to add?” Jimin asks softly. “Take your time.”

“I didn’t…I didn’t act against you because I wanted attention in that sense, I miss you both. Lately, neither of you has been home and I just…I feel so lonely. You get to see each other most days at work but I don’t even have that luxury. It seemed like a good idea at the time but I feel awful, I wanted your only free day and you think I’m just ungrateful and pathetic.” You knew you’d broken one of your own rules, to never take something said in a scene as how they see you or view you outside of it but for some reason, today, it was harder. The mean words and cold shoulders were all you could think about.

“We don’t think you’re ungrateful or pathetic, we misjudged the situation and that is our fault. As your dominants, we have a responsibility to make sure you’re safe and happy and both today and yesterday we failed at it massively. Apologies will only do so much but I promise I will make it up to you every single day, I’m so sorry I haven’t been here for you.” You chance a glance at Jimin as he finishes talking, only to have your heart broken when you see him wipe a stray tear away. You don’t even chance to look at Jungkook, sure he is fairing the same way if not worse.

“It’s not your fault, work is important but I just- I don’t know.” You huff, words and emotions just too much. You let your head drop against Jungkook's chest, his heart beating faster than usual. “I’m sorry we failed you today as doms and boyfriends.”

You shook your head. “You didn’t fail me, I should have been an adult and talked to you about how I felt instead of ignoring what you both said.”

“No baby we did fail you, talking as just your dom, we failed you. We should have been more consistent with our check-ins and should have discussed your actions more before punishing you. I think between myself and Kook we both thought the other was being affectionate so we held back a little so as to not overly indulge you but that was a stupid assumption that will never be made again.” Jimin argues, his hand tracing circles on your stomach.

“I’ve never had a problem with the way you chose to punish me. I like it but this time it just hurt more emotionally.” You explained, not wanting them to change because regardless of how you felt about the punishment you loved them as doms and people.

“And that is our fault,” Jungkook says, not as a question. “And I will never let something like this happen again.”

“I think from now on we will be more comforting even through punishments, even if that particular day you don’t feel it’s necessary I think we.” He gestures to himself and Jungkook. “Would feel better knowing you are okay. I also want you to be honest next time, the second it doesn’t feel right, even if you’re unsure of why, you call yellow okay?”

“But I did…” you mumble, although you hadn’t done it straight away you’d done it when you desperately needed it and for a second it had been ignored. “On the couch I did.”

“I know.” Jimin mumbles. “I didn’t hear you, that’s no excuse but I truly didn’t and the second we realised it all stopped. I won’t say “I’m sorry” for that because no apology would be good enough. Doll if you want to leave the arrangement, you have every single right to. If you feel as though you can trust us then do not force yourself to be our submissive because that’s something based on trust and a mutual agreement. Nothing will change within our relationship if you choose to let go of that aspect.”

“Really?” You eye them both. “You’d stay even if I didn’t want to be your submissive?”

“Baby we aren’t with you because you’re an amazing submissive, we are with you because you’re an amazing human being. You take care of us, you remember the smallest details like when we mention something we want on our diet you turn up with it the second we can eat freely, you brighten up the room just by being there, you’re so hard working and always do your best. You have the most beautiful thoughts in life, you’re strong and honest. You have so many amazing qualities that I couldn’t list them all even if I tried but I am in love with you.” Jungkook stared at you, his eyes conveying everything his words couldn’t. “So am I” Jimin adds.

“I don’t want that, I don’t want to change anything. I love you both and this was an accident, we both did things wrong and next time it will go better. Things won’t be perfect and when they don’t go well we will discuss it and come out of the other end better and stronger. I trust you with my life.” You look at both of them, all three of you smiling stupidly through tears. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” They spoke in unison, both placing kisses on your head. “How about we order food and spend a day taking care of the baby?”

You know the question isn’t directed to you, it always makes you feel small whenever they talk about you as though you aren’t there, small and cared for.

“Yeah I think that sounds good, I’ll go make us some tea. Maybe sit on the couch? I’ll grab some blankets.”

“Couch sounds good. Baby?” Jimin nudges you, drawing your attention back. “Couch?”

You nod. “I thought you had work?”

“Oh no baby, I know I told you that we had only been given one day off but we have the whole week.” Jungkook looks horrified as he explains. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have been spiteful in that way it was wrong.”

“What did you do?” Jimin frowns.

“I told her that we had another day off and when she got excited and asked if I was being serious I told her no. I didn't realise she was truly upset by it.” He explains hurriedly.

“You dumbass.” Jimin scolds, reaching out to slap the back of his head. “Why would you do that.”

“I wasn’t thinking.” He explained honestly. “I didn’t mean to be such an ass.”

“It sucked but I wasn’t that sad.” You explain, both of them clearly over analysing every little thing, yes you were sad but not sad enough to warrant them being this cautious. “I don’t want you to be worried about everything you say and do, I’m normally great at understanding the difference between what you do and say in a scene and how you feel outside of them.”

“It doesn’t mean we should say things that could disappoint you on purpose.” Jungkook retorts, running a hand through his hair as he sits on the end of the bed.

“You were being sarcastic Kook, I can tell the difference. I don’t want you to beat yourself up because a scene went wrong, it happens, this won’t be the last time but I’m okay, I’ll be okay after a week of pampering.” You tease them both.

“You’re far too good to us.” Jimin sighs, burying his head in your neck.

The day played out slowly, all three of you migrating to the couch with a heap of blankets. You’d gotten fried chicken whilst watching a movie, they had agreed to watch whatever movie you wanted, and you’d settled on a comedy that had all three of you crying with laughter.

They had been checking in with you constantly, tending to your every need, whispering reassurance and comforting words to you whenever they could. By the end of their break, the incident had been forgotten and you were already excited about whatever happened during the scene you’d all planned for their last free day.

You’d been sitting in the playroom for a while, both of them coming in and out of the room frequently, more than they usually would have.

“How are you feeling puppy?” Jimin asked, hand running through your hair. “Good?”

“Perfect Sir.” You respond with a smile.

“Let me see your pretty face.” You lifted your head as Jungkook had told you to. “Beautiful.”

Jimin took a step back, not before kissing you softly. “Is there anything you want to try in particular today puppy?”

You bit your lip, gathering the confidence to ask for what you’d wanted for the past two days. “I want.. a punishment Sir.”

They both give you a confused look. “Why?”

“Because I don’t feel good about my actions, I feel unsettled knowing I broke a rule and then safeworded out of my punishment.” You explain.

Jungkook shook his head, moving to undo the collar he had put on you, only stopping when you moved your hands up to cover the buckle. “No, I don’t- I don’t need to stop.”

“We aren’t going to do a scene if you aren’t in the right headspace darling, your safeword is there to protect you, you can use it whenever you want for whatever reason and you will never have to make up for it or feel bad for it.” Jungkook explains, caressing your hands as he pulls them away. “I need you to be absolutely sure you understand this before we play darling.”

“I do, I do Master I do I promise but I just don’t feel right, I want to be good and I don’t feel good and you telling me I’m good isn’t going to help I need to feel like I’ve done good, like I made up for disobeying.”

“Okay.” He gives in after considering for a few moments, and Jimin nods in agreement.

“I think 50 spanks will do?” Jimin asks Jungkook.

“20 with the paddle and 30 with my hand.” Jungkoom responds, a smile across his lips. “You do the paddle.”

“Oh, you really want her ass red huh?” Jimin laughs, grabbing the familiar black one from the rack.

Your heart warms seeing them play around with one another in this way. “Come over baby, lay cross my lap.” Jimin instructs, before you can move Jungkook is attaching a leash to the back of your collar, you begin crawling behind him as if programmed to do so.

Jimin watches your every move, your hips swaying as you crawl across to him and climb into his lap. “Doing so well for me.” You preen at the praise, heart thumping as you prepare yourself for the first blow.

Jimin has a way with the paddle, he wrists flexible enough to swing the paddle on every inch of flesh on your backside. You feel yourself both relaxing and tearing up as the worries in your mind quieten.

You feel yourself being moved from Jimin’s lap and you can’t help but whine, despite the light throbbing on your ass you feel comfortable, relaxed. You quieten when Jungkook taps your thigh. “Hush puppy, I’m going to do your last 30.”

“Sorry Master.” You put as he pulls you over his lap, the rough material of his jeans uncomfortably digging into your skin. “Hurts.”

“You can deal with it darling, take what I give you.” He lands a smack to your ass before you can complain further and as he does all thoughts are knocked out of you.

You’re thankful they don’t tell you to count because once again you get lost in your own thoughts, the repetition of the smacks soothing you. “Taking it so nicely.” You hear Jimin and can’t help but reach out a hand for him, relaxing again once he takes it.

“All done,” Jungkook speaks, you blink away the confusion in your head. “Baby’s out of it.”

“She needed this.” You hear jimin but don’t bother moving from the crook of Jungkook's neck, the smell of his cologne comforting. “Poor baby.”

You loved moments like this, where you were thoughtless, with no worries, no guilt, just the soft buzz of subspace and your doms, boyfriends taking care of you. “Love you. Thank you.” You mumble into his skin.

“Don’t thank me, baby, you took your punishment so well for Sirs. You can sleep okay? We will have a bubble bath when you wake up.” A bath sounded good but sleep sounded better so you let yourself be pulled into whatever dream was awaiting you.

When you woke up you felt warmth all around you. Their bodies pressed flush against yours in the large bed. “Awake sweetheart?” Jungkook whispers. “Hyungs sleeping.”

You look at the way jimin had a hand tangled in jungkoks, his other arm wrapped around your torso. The three of you entwined in one way or another. It was moments like these that made their hectic schedules worth it, you’d had countless arguments before, disagreements, struggles, and bad days but you had an abundance of amazing ones, ones that made every single hard day worth it. You loved them, you were in love with them, and you always would be. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Jimin mumbles in his sleep making you and Jungkook laugh.

“I love you two.”

[bl4ckj4ck]

always

Drift x Ratchet, Phaser (Oc)

Angst, hurt-comfort, alternative universe

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62063335

“Pha-Pha, stay still, or I won’t be able to finish!” Drift playfully growled, his servos gently holding the face of his squirming bitlet. Phaser giggled uncontrollably, showing off the little denta gap that never failed to melt his sire’s spark.

“But it tickles, Daddy!” Phaser chirped, scrunching up his nose ridge as Drift resumed painting his face. The soft strokes of the brush made the sparkling’s still-developing plating bristle, and giggles erupted anew.

Drift could only laugh along, his grip steady as he remained determined to finish the face-paint. The design was red, much like his own markings, but with a touch of Phaser’s unique essence in the pattern. After a while, the bitlet finally closed his optics and allowed him to work without further fuss. But Drift knew better. He noticed the way his little digits fidgeted with his plating and how his legs swung restlessly. Setting the brush down to soak in the solvent, he cleaned his servos with a rag, his sharp optics never leaving his son. Every micro-expression was noted with practiced ease.

“Pha-Pha…” he began softly, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. His tone was gentle, but there was an edge of concern behind it. Phaser hummed in acknowledgment, keeping his optics offline.

“Why are you so nervous, baby?”

“Me not—”

“I’m,” Drift corrected gently.

“I’m not!” Phaser huffed, his bottom lip curling into a pout. His little head-fins drooped ever so slightly, earning an affectionate chuckle from Drift.

“You sure?” he asked again, his voice teasing yet tender as he knelt in front of the sparkling. Phaser didn’t reply, the silence speaking volumes. Drift leaned closer, his expression softening further. “Pha-Pha, my love. You know it’s okay to be nervous, right?”

Phaser onlined his optics, aquamarine pools meeting Drift’s gaze briefly before shifting downward in shy submission. His small servos fidgeted in his lap as he crossed his legs, still swinging them idly. Drift’s spark ached at the familiar sight.

Because it reminded him of someone else.

“It’s just…” Phaser began, his voice faltering as he tried to find the right words. Formulating complex phrases was still new to him, and after a long pause, frustration crept in. Drift reached out, rubbing his back patiently in silent encouragement.

“I don’t know…” the sparkling finally admitted, his tone defeated.

Drift sighed, not out of disappointment, but with the weight of understanding. He gently cupped Phaser’s faceplate in his servos and placed a tender kiss on his chevron. Then, pressing their chevrons together, he held them there for a few moments, letting his digits brush soothingly under Phaser’s optics. Gradually, the bitlet’s erratic vents began to align with his own steady rhythm. Drift’s meditation lessons had not been for nothing; every practice had a purpose.

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to say anything now,” he murmured, his voice warm and steady, like a summer breeze calming a storm. Phaser’s spark seemed to ease, and his optics fluttered offline once more. “I hear you, always.”

Phaser nodded faintly, not fully grasping the depth of Drift’s words, but feeling their meaning resonate within him. Slowly, he nuzzled into his father’s plating, much like a turbofox pup seeking comfort. Drift chuckled at the adorable gesture before launching a playful attack, peppering his son’s cheeks with smooches.

“Daddy, no! Pha-Pha tickles!” Phaser squeaked, squirming as giggles poured out of him. Drift growled playfully and scooped him up in a fierce hug, squeezing him tightly in a sudden fit of affectionate “aggression.”

“You’re just too cute to handle,” Drift declared, planting one last exaggerated smooch on Phaser’s cheek—one that nearly turned into a playful chomp.

“Okay, enough. We need to go visit Papa,” Drift finally relented, setting Phaser back on the ground while trying to fix the sparkling’s mussed plating.

“Yes! Me wanna see Papa!” Phaser exclaimed, bouncing with excitement.

Drift sighed dramatically, shaking his head with a small smile. “It’s I want to see Papa, Phaser. I.”

Phaser giggled, unapologetic, as Drift took his hand. Together, they headed off, Phaser’s laughter still ringing like music in Drift’s audials.

Phaser had been quiet. Oddly quiet. But Drift was getting used to it—Phaser always grew nervous when they visited Ratchet. The bitlet would be so excited to tell his Papa about all the adventures he’d been having, yet the weight of the visit always hung heavy in the air.

That’s why it broke Drift’s spark to bring him here. Because, just like him, Phaser missed Ratchet every day and every night. Always.

“Gently, like that. Exactly,” Drift instructed softly as he helped Phaser lower the bucket of glowing energon flowers at the base of Ratchet’s memorial. The bitlet beamed with pride as he carefully arranged the flowers among the flickering lights, his wide smile lighting up his face.

“Papa will love this! Aunty Nautica helped Pha-Pha choose them!” Phaser chirped, craning his neck to look up at the towering hologram of his Papa. The faint, eerie glow of the projection reflected in his bright optics. He leaned in conspiratorially, covering one side of his mouth to whisper—though not very quietly. “Don’t tell Daddy, but Phaser dropped them and cried. But Tica said, ‘No crying!’ and bought new ones!”

“You dropped the ones I bought?” Drift asked, raising an optic ridge.

“Hey! I’m talking to Papa! Don’t listen!” Phaser squeaked indignantly, shoving Drift with all the might his little frame could muster. Naturally, Drift didn’t budge an inch, but he raised his servos in mock surrender and took a step back.

“Alright, alright! I’ll leave, yeesh!” Drift exaggerated his retreat with a dramatic huff, though he didn’t stray too far.

Phaser glared at him for a moment before plopping back down on his aft in front of the memorial.

“Daddy is always listening when me tell him not to,” he muttered, tracing little shapes in the ground with a digit. Then, turning back to the hologram, he began speaking to Ratchet. “He makes Pha-Pha mad sometimes. But then he makes Pha-Pha happy, so he’s not bad.”

Phaser continued, his small voice bubbling with chatter as he told Ratchet about his day-to-day life. “Pha-Pha takes his rations three times a day and brushes his denta like Papa taught me—up and down! I already lost a denta! I’ve been listening to First Aid’s lessons, and Aunt Tica brought me a bunch of datapads the other day—even though Pha-Pha can’t read yet. But Daddy reads them to me before recharge.”

Drift stood nearby, letting Phaser speak without interruption. For a solid ten minutes, the bitlet chattered away, pouring out his thoughts until he finally ran out of things to say. Drift’s mask slipped as he watched his son. His fins drooped, and his optics dimmed. The grief was still so raw, so fresh. Seeing the little treasure Ratchet had left behind mourning in his own innocent way made Drift’s spark ache.

Phaser’s tone softened as he picked a flower from the bucket, twirling it in his small digits. His optics fixed on the memorial, and his voice grew quiet. “You know, I heard Daddy crying the other night. He really misses Papa. I do too. A lot.”

Phaser’s gaze dropped to the flower in his hands, his voice trembling. “When will you come back, Papa? I miss you. I want you to come home so we can hide from the monsters under my berth and tell stories…”

The words broke as coolant tears started streaming down Phaser’s little faceplate. His vents hitched, and he desperately tried to wipe the tears away, but his sobs overtook him.

Drift was there in an instant, scooping him up and holding him close. “Oh, oh, oh, Pha-Pha. Baby, it’s okay,” he murmured, rocking him gently and rubbing circles on his back. Phaser clung to his neck cables, his tiny frame trembling with sobs that rattled Drift’s own spark. Drift’s optics moistened, his grief spilling over with his son’s.

“I want Papa! I want to go with Papa!” Phaser cried, his voice breaking.

“No, baby. Papa is in a place we can’t go yet—especially not you,” Drift replied, his voice tender even as tears streaked his own faceplate.

“Why?!”

“Because he wants you to stay here and live a happy life before joining him,” Drift explained, settling on the ground with Phaser still in his arms. He cupped the bitlet’s face in his servos, wiping away the tears with gentle strokes. “It’s okay, baby. Vent with me, like we practiced. In—out. Follow me. In—and out.”

Shaking, Phaser tried to match his father’s rhythm, though hiccups interrupted him. He clung to Drift’s wrists, his tiny claws digging in as the overwhelming pain in his spark slowly began to ebb.

“That’s it, my love. Just like that. You’re doing so well. So, so well,” Drift praised softly, coaxing him through the process.

Minutes passed, and finally, Phaser’s sobs quieted, leaving him drained and snuggled into Drift’s embrace. His sniffles punctuated the silence as Drift gently scratched behind his head fins, soothing him.

“Me miss him,” Phaser whispered hoarsely, his small voice filled with sorrow.

“I know, baby. I miss him too,” Drift murmured, pressing a kiss to his chevron. “But you know what comforts me?”

“What?” Phaser asked, his voice barely audible.

“That he’s always with us,” Drift said, tapping a claw against Phaser’s spark chamber. “As long as we carry him here, Papa will always be with us.”

Phaser looked down at his chest, pressing his tiny servos over the plating to feel the thrum of his own spark. He sniffled again, his optics lifting to meet Drift’s with a glimmer of hope.

“Papa’s here,” he whispered, his tone tinged with wonder.

“That’s right. And as long as you keep him there, he’ll always be with you, little star,” Drift reassured, brushing away the last of his tears. “Now, what do you say we head back? Nautica told me she made your favorite energon treats, and everyone is waiting for you.”

A small smile broke across Phaser’s lips as he nodded, earning another affectionate smooch from Drift before he stood, still cradling the bitlet close.

As they walked back home, Phaser swore he felt a warm touch on his helm—and a soft whisper in his audials.

Always.

[nasturtiumloom]

Hi!!! new riddler writer omg!!

could you do AK!riddler w a f!assistant!reader who dresses nice? like he’s covered in grime and grease 24/7 but his assistant walks in all dressed up, long ahh nails, smelling great yknow? def not what you would wear when you’re making robots.

thank you!!

hello hello hello!!! ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡

i decided to do mini headcanons for this, i hope that’s okay!! requests are still open for a fic of this. ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა (but i’m still new so it might take a little while just like this one did, sorry! </3)i did go a little bit overboard with this one though..

MDNI

AK!riddler x fem assistant reader ⊹ ˚｡⋆🍋‍🟩° ᡣ𐭩₊ ⊹

After a small argument, Edward Nigma decided to make you his assistant while he worked on his robots and traps for Batman. He found it utterly ludicrous that you refused to get your hands dirty, insisting that you didn't want to ruin your nails or your suit.

"You expect me to believe you can't handle a little grease?" he scoffed, narrowing his eyes as he wiped oil from his hands onto an already stained rag.

You crossed your arms, maintaining your composure. "Edward, you know perfectly well that I have no intention of ruining my manicure or this designer suit. Besides, my skills are far more useful in other areas."

He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. "Fine. If you're so keen on staying pristine, you can assist me in other ways. Fetch the blueprints, organize the tools, and keep track of the parts I need. Happy now?"

A small, satisfied smile played on your lips. "Much better.”

as the heavy metal door to Edward’s lair creaked open. The rhythmic clacking of heels echoed through the dimly lit room, a sharp contrast to the usual silence. Edward glanced up from his workstation, a sneer already forming on his lips as he wiped a smudge of grease from his brow with the back of his hand.

“Good morning, Edward,” you said, walking over to him, placing a stack of papers on the cluttered desk. “I’ve compiled the latest data on Batman’s movements, as you requested.”

Edward’s eyes followed you, the sneer on his face barely concealing the intrigue in his eyes. “Oh good, only five minutes late this time.” he replied, annoyment lacing his words. “I’m sure your fancy clothes and perfect nails didn’t get in the way of your work, did they?”

You gave him a small smile, knowing the effect you had on him. It was a game you both played, the tension between you palpable yet unspoken. “Thank you, Edward. I take pride in my work.” earning another eye roll from him.

Despite being the complete opposite in appearance, this stark contrast is precisely what attracts Edward to you, not that he’d ever say that to you. Your neat, put-together self complements the dark, greasy, and oil-scented environment of his workshop, creating a dynamic that he finds both fascinating and alluring. Edward thrives in chaos, with his mind always racing with complex plans and intricate puzzles. However, your calm and orderly presence offers him a sense of balance, his eyes flickering up once in a while to see you write down any idea he would work on after another and another.

Edward always insists that you can never perfect his coffee, even though he requests it black. No matter how many times you bring him a steaming cup, he always takes a sip, frowns slightly, and mutters some critique about how it's too sweet, too weak, or not quite hot enough. Though he constantly nitpicks, he always finishes the cup and asks for more. He knows that without you, he'd probably forget to drink anything at all.

"Did you add sugar in this one? practically rotting my teeth," he grumbles, taking another sip.

You roll your eyes, replying, "It's exactly the same as yesterday."

He checks his watch before saying, "Bring me another coffee in an hour. And try not to do it blindfolded," with a hint of teasing in his voice.

the only reason he says he keeps you around is because you manage to keep his blueprints to a standard, picking at his messy notes into clean blueprints, sometimes it gets to him.

"You think I couldn't manage without you, don't you?" His voice held a mix of annoyance and grudging respect as he paced the cluttered workshop. The air smelled of grease and metal, a sharp contrast to your usual neat appearance.

You smiled slightly, adjusting the blueprint on the table. “Someone has to keep you from turning everything into a death trap. Someone who knows how to clean up nicely, maybe?" signaling to the huge huge rolling saw blades Catwoman had to dodge or the race that Batman had to maneuver through a course while avoiding being crushed by large metal blocks.

He scoffed, pretending to inspect a gadget nearby, “Presentable, yes. You manage that quite well, among other things." As he returned to his work, you felt a quiet satisfaction.

He’d probably steal the credit when he sees Batman struggling with a certain riddle that you came up with, but when Batman finally solves it, it sparks a heated argument between you two, each blaming the other for potential mistakes.

Edward couldn't resist a smirk of satisfaction as he watched Batman puzzle over a riddle you had crafted. "Clearly, my intellect prevails once again," he remarked smugly, leaning back in his chair.

You shot him a pointed look, hands on your hips. "Edward, that was my idea and you know it. I spent hours perfecting that riddle."

"Details, my dear assistant," he retorted, waving a dismissive hand. "The credit rightfully belongs to the one who set the puzzle."

"But you wouldn't even have had the components if it weren't for me," you argued, frustration creeping into your voice.

but you guys quickly quiet down as you see batman pick up the riddler trophy through the computer screen, seeing edward’s hand grip his chair incredibly tight.

Edward might never admit it aloud, but the thought of your absence unsettled him. You had become the unexpected variable in his life that brought structure and, oddly enough, a sense of stability. In the grand scheme of his schemes and riddles, you were the constant that made everything else fall into place

Edward even found himself relying on you more than he ever anticipated. Your organized approach and sharp mind allowed him to focus solely on his grand designs, he was sure you wouldn’t disappoint that much with the finer details.

He would probably complain about smelling your lotion on the blueprints or papers you handed to him. Despite his grumbles, the subtle fragrance secretly provided him with an unexpected comfort amidst the chaos of his work. Even after you finished your tasks and he sent you away, your perfumes and lotion would still linger around his workshop, a ghostly reminder of your presence.

“Do you have to drench yourself in that stuff?” he’d mutter, nose wrinkling as he examined the schematics. “It’s distracting.”

You’d raise an eyebrow, hiding a smirk. “Distracting how, Eddie?”

His eyes would flicker to you, a fleeting vulnerability passing through them before he turned back to the blueprints. “It... interferes with my concentration. The smell is... too pleasant.”

You’d chuckle softly, leaning in closer. “Would you prefer I stop wearing it?”

A brief silence would follow, filled only by the hum of machinery. He’d sigh, his voice barely above a whisper. “No, just... be mindful.”

You’d nod, the hint of a smile on your lips. “Of course, Eddie.”

Later, when the workshop was quiet and the only sounds were the ticking of clocks and the hum of electronics, he’d find himself inhaling deeply, the faint scent of your lotion still lingering. Despite himself, he’d feel a strange sense of calm, a reminder that amidst his intricate plans and puzzles, there was something, someone, grounding him.

i feel like if you’d gifted him maybe a coconut lime sanitizer so his hands wouldn’t reek of metal and oil, he would claim to never use it that it’d be a waste of space and time, but as you cleaned up his messy desk the sanitizer would be half empty.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, holding the small bottle between his fingers as if it were a foreign object. “Sanitizer? Really?”

“It’s practical, Eddie,” you replied, unfazed. “And it smells nice.”

He rolled his eyes. “I doubt I’ll ever use it.”

Weeks later, as you tidied up his messy desk, you noticed the sanitizer was half empty. You couldn't help but smile.

“You said you wouldn’t use it,” you teased, holding up the bottle.

He glanced at it, his expression unchanging. “I had to test its effectiveness. Purely for scientific purposes.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Sure, Eddie.”

In the quiet moments, when he was deep in thought, he’d find himself reaching for the bottle, the familiar scent providing a strange comfort. Despite his stubbornness, the small gift had found its place in his routine.

He’d probably complain about hearing your nails tapping against your desk, your heels clicking with every step, or your gum chewing distracting him. Yet, if you weren’t there, he’d be equally distracted by the silence. Your presence, irritating as he found it at times, had become a part of his rhythm. The soft rustle of your clothes as you moved, the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the air.

Without you, the oppressive quiet would remind him of how much he relied on your seemingly annoying habits to keep his own mind from unraveling.

If you ever caught him looking at you, he’d probably be the one to get mad.

"Why are you dressed up like that in a place like this? It’s not a fashion show," he’d snap, eyes narrowing. But the truth was, he noticed. He noticed the effort you put into your appearance, even if he pretended it annoyed him.

Over the times you both spent together, you’d notice the little things. He no longer grumbled as much after you spoke, his eyebrows weren't always scrunched up in frustration. Sometimes, he might even let you go home early,

"Fine, you can leave," he'd mutter, barely looking up from his work.

and if you were really lucky, he might just comment on your good work. These small gestures were his way of acknowledging your presence, your importance, even if he’d never admit it outright.

"Not bad," he'd say gruffly, a rare hint of approval in his voice.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

currently six in the morning and my brain is mush!!! goodnight everyone _(- _ｰ 」∠)_ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 or good morning !

[delimeful]

just a little rush (1)

G/t July Day 2: Bird 

patron prompt: patton & remus comforting each other through touch!

warnings: dehumanization, captivity, highly improper handling of a little guy, injury & muscle cramps, mention of past injury & abuse, many remus-typical nsfw & gore-adjacent comments, swearing, lmk if i missed any

-

Patton wiggled his shoulder through the bars and craned his neck, straining to get a good enough angle to see the other half of the clock across the room.

Enough of the clock’s face was visible that he could guess the time most of the day, except for the stretch of time in which both the hour and minute hands were out of sight. Patton wasn’t usually overly concerned about the loss; Normally, it didn’t really matter either way.

Now, when it had been what felt like ages since he’d last seen Remus, it mattered a lot more.

Of course Remus had chosen the most inconvenient timing possible to stage his latest escape attempt. Patton would smile if he wasn’t so worried.

Heavy footsteps came down the hall, and Patton hurriedly yanked his arm back through the bars, his wings prickling up with nerves at the thought of being caught ‘outside’, even if it was only a single limb.

The door was shoved open heavily, and Patton was greeted by the face of their captor, creased sharply by a disgusted sort of annoyance.

Heart pounding in his ears, Patton flattened his wings against his back on automatic, making himself smaller in the face of the man’s clear anger. He ignored the urge to dart away, find a small place to hide in until the threat had passed.

Even if it wouldn’t only make their captor more upset, there was no point. Their cage didn’t have any hidden-away nooks or crannies; it was designed first and foremost as a display case.

After all, what was the point of having a rare treasure if you couldn’t see it and show it off whenever you wanted?

Instead, he kept himself rooted firmly in place, ducking his head slightly so that he could subtly scan the man’s hands for— there.

His heart skipped an agonizing beat at the sight of Remus’s wings, askew and rumpled— but they were still attached. It was just a constricting hold, clamping the wings together between two fingers so they couldn’t flap around or beat against the hand clenched tightly around the rest of Remus.

Remus was quiet, which was never a good sign, but Patton could see the way his pinned wings were twitching slightly, and knew that he was still alive and hopefully still mostly intact, as well.

“Idiot fucking bird,” their captor muttered, stepping close to the cage and undoing the locking mechanism with sharp, irritated yanks.

He’d had the lock upgraded several times, enough that it was now far more difficult to unlatch, especially from inside, but the unfortunate side effect was that the complexity of it was nearly as agitating to him as it was to his captives.

Patton could see now why Remus hadn’t butted in with a mocking comment to torment the human more: the man’s gloved thumb had been pressed over a good portion of his face, completely concealing his mouth and getting dangerously close to covering his nose, too. Remus had turned his head as far as he could manage to keep his last airway unsealed.

With a final noisy clatter, their captor pulled the door down and wasted no time before shoving his hand inside and dropping Remus into the cage like he couldn’t stand to hold him a second longer. He immediately pulled his hand back out and slammed the door shut, as though he thought Remus would instantly jump to his feet and lunge at the open exit.

From where he’d collapsed into a tangle of limbs on the cage floor, Remus’s mouth curled into something smug even as he took deep, gasping breaths. He’d always enjoyed earning his reputation by getting a reaction out of the human, no matter how negative, no matter the cost.

And this time, the cost was certainly high.

Patton could tell from the way his only friend’s vibrant green wings were spasming that some of the muscles had been sprained, forced to bend just slightly too far in the wrong direction, and they’d be too sore to fold reliably for days.

It wasn’t the worst that could have happened, but it was a bad sign. An injury like this, coming from the human that prized their ability to flutter around so highly? Remus was pushing too far, and soon he’d get burned for real.

“Bluebird, at least try and be a good influence, won’t you? Make sure he stays in there. Next time, I won’t be so nice,” their captor snarled, smacking a hand against the bars of the cage to create a metallic ringing that made Patton cringe away, his head aching slightly from the sound.

Remus’s gaze went dark, and he inhaled harshly, like he had something to say, only to start up a hacking cough as the air went down wrong.

Their captor dismissed the noise with a flick of his head, already turning away to return to whatever he was doing before he caught Remus. Patton hurried forward the moment his attention was off of them, folding down to his knees at Remus’s side and immediately reaching out to grab the thickest muscle of his wing.

They were still twitching, and if they were left as is and Remus reacted too poorly to an uncontrollable spasm, one of those fragile joints could dislocate entirely. Patton dug his thumbs in, massaging the closest knot of muscle as firmly as he could.

“If you’re going to work me over like this,” Remus gasped, “at least— ghng— buy me dinner first, will ya?”

He twitched his head sharply to the side and clenched his fists through the pain as Patton continued working his fingers against the arch of his wings, easing them through the convulsive cramps as he slowly folded them out of their overextended position.

“Why, of course,” he answered a beat late, trying not to let the strain of the work infect his tone. “Only the finest of sunflower seeds for my most pheasant of friends.”

Remus barked out a laugh, the unhinged grin not leaving even as his wing muscles jumped painfully under Patton’s thumbs. “I think that’s the first time anyone’s ever called me pleasant.”

“Not even, erm, in the bedroom?” Patton said, his unpracticed delivery falling a little flat as Remus flinched a little at a particularly painful feeling cramp.

He’d grown plenty used to hearing innuendos of all shapes and sizes over the past few months Remus had been here, but that didn’t mean he was any good at saying them. Not even to distract his friend.

Remus processed the words a bit late, his breathing a bit strained, and then threw his head back a tad and cackled.

The noise briefly turned into something closer to shrieking laughter as Patton finally smoothed out one last twitching length of muscle, but then it was over, the worst of the cramps over and done with, with only the aching and torn muscles left behind.

Patton sat back on his rear heavily, and Remus dragged himself close enough to flop over one leg, still panting slightly.

“Nah,” he said after a moment, waggling his eyebrows. “In the bedroom they call me nasty. And outside the bedroom, really. I’m a freak on the streets and in the sheets!”

Patton laughed despite himself, a far cry from the flushed ears and fluffed out feathers he used to sport whenever Remus said anything remotely… saucy.

“I guess that’s the nast-key to your success, huh?”

“The nastkeys,” Remus echoed. “There’s a BDSM joke about handcuffs there somewhere, I can feel it.”

Patton snorted, and reached over to carefully shuffle one of Remus’s limp wings so that it stretched across his lap. It went taut for a moment before sagging again, the wing spreading wide over his other leg so he could see the extent of the damage.

Patton whistled, his lips going thin the more he looked. “He did a number this time, huh.”

“Bastard’s just jealous he doesn’t have my swagalicious escape artist skills,” Remus replied, glancing over at the many disturbed and torn feathers and averting his gaze sharply. “The nast-key to that particular skillset is lubrication. Lots and lots of lubrication.”

“I think that joke is the opposite of the handcuffs one,” Patton murmured, slowly working his way through the top layer, adjusting and aligning feathers where he could and pulling the damaged and loose ones free where he couldn’t.

“I always manage to work one in somewhere,” Remus said, turning the phrase into an innuendo through tone alone. “I’m just flexible like that.”

Patton’s ears were growing pink now. He hadn’t built up as much tolerance as he’d thought. He opened his mouth to change the subject, hopefully with a pun.

“I wish you would stop,” he said instead, voice so quiet it was barely audible.

There was a pause.

“I wish you would grow a pair and help me, but I don’t ask anymore, do I?” Remus replied, his voice blunt for all that the words were harsh. “I can’t stop. The minute I give it up, I might as well roll right over the nearest ledge and decorate the bougie tiles with the resulting splatter.”

Patton didn’t stop his gentle grooming, but his hands did gain a barely-there tremor. He bit back any possible responses, keeping his eyes locked on his task.

“…Sorry,” Remus grumbled, ungraceful but sincere. “I know you have your reasons. I’ve got mine too, though.”

“I know,” Patton said, bobbing his head in a hurried nod. He hesitated, his wings tucking even further against his back, before continuing. “It’s getting more dangerous, though. If you keep pushing him, he’ll get too mad to remember that we’re… valuable.”

The silence this time was much more charged. Patton smoothed his hand over a patch of feathers that had already been all straightened out, still not looking up.

“That sounds like you’re speaking from experience, Sunshine,” said Remus, solemnly.

That nickname was a lot more welcome than the one their captor had given him. Probably because they both knew it wasn’t meant to replace his actual name.

Some days, he asked to just be called Patton. Just so he could remember the name was real. That he was still a person.

(He was so glad to have someone to say it again.)

“I used to argue with him,” Patton started, and then corrected himself, “I would try to convince him that what he was doing was wrong.”

Remus made a sound that might have been a laugh, if it wasn’t so unhappy.

“Yeah,” Patton agreed, lips twisting to the side in a miserable half-smile. “He, uh. He started to get sick of it, give me warnings like he just did. And I didn’t listen. And, uhh…”

His voice trailed off briefly, and Remus turned to look at him, no pity in his stare.

It gave him the courage to stretch a wing out and stare at the soft blue-grey plumage, finding the two points of his wings that still ached on stormy days. He touched his finger to each spot, one after another. “The bones snapped here, and here.”

There was the briefest beat of silence, and then, “You know this doesn’t really motivate me to stop, right? Now I just want to make a pit stop mid-escape to tear Bastard’s throat out with my teeth personally.”

Patton laughed a little despite himself, his mind shying uneasily away from the gory imagery, but... not quite as much as it might have for anyone other than their captor.

“He complained about the vet bills for a long time,” he replied, softly. “If it happened again, I don’t think he would try to fix us. Fix you.”

Remus gnashed his teeth for a moment, visibly chewing on whatever he wanted to say. Patton continued before he had a chance, fingers still ghosting over Remus’s primaries.

“I don’t want to be alone again.” His voice was nearly a whisper.

Whatever he’d been about to say, Remus swallowed the words with a sour expression, melting further against Patton’s lap with a gusty sigh.

“I’ll take a little vacation,” he finally said, reaching a hand up to card his own fingers through the lower feathers on Patton’s half-outstretched wing.

He couldn’t often preen Patton back, not with his persistent worry of impulsively yanking out feathers, but his touch now was anything but rough.

“Not forever,” he warned, “but I can turn down the heat for a little bit. Let Bastard settle back down to a simmer before I start our little looney-toons game of cat and bird once more.”

Patton felt the little ball of tension inside him unwind a little, sniffling a bit from the force of the quiet relief that washed over him. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't be a sap. Anyways, those old cartoons with the animal chases are actually super fucked up. I’m talking graphic violence, adult jokes, unethical cat-and-dog rivalry stereotypes…”

Patton gestured for Remus’s other wing, keeping half an ear on his friend’s rambling as he began repairing as much of the dishevelment and damage as he could.

As long as they had each other, they would be okay. He had to believe that, just like Remus had to try to escape. So he did.

Around them, their gilded cage continued to glitter.

[systemrestart]

I finally got the 1st Seihou Project game, Shuusou Gyoku, to run on my computer!! And I got my first Normal 1cc. So to celebrate I wanted to make a post discussing my feelings on it so far. (Plus links to download the game for yourself)

[NOTE: This is exclusively about gameplay, from the perspective of a Touhou enthusiast, so no lore or history, sorry!]

Seihou was meant to be a sort of "sister series" to Touhou, and it definitely shows in many of the patterns, but there are some key differences.

Seihou tends to have lower bullet density overall, but the bullets themselves are Much faster, and the enemies are much more aggressive, with little time to take a breath during bosses and midbosses. Some bosses/enemies even try to tackle you rather than shoot.

Because of this, routing and memorization are more of a factor, but, pulling off a pre-planned dodge for a pattern that would otherwise obliterate you before you even saw it coming, is very satisfying. And there are plenty of areas that can reward improvisation or quick thinking too, so it's not ALL memorization, which I like. A decent mix of both, at least for Easy-Hard difficulties.

Seihou also highly prioritizes grazing; you fill up a gauge as you graze, and this both increases the score you get from the star items, and gives you some extra powerful shots when you collect them. While figuring out Exactly where the hitboxes are can take a bit of trial and error, pulling off a long graze combo and then decimating the enemies with your extra firepower is also super satisfying, AND the benefits kick in at just 1 graze, so even in low density patterns you can milk the rewards by chasing stray bullets to keep the gauge filled.

The only downside to this system is that a lot of the best grazing is done on bosses, and since the bosses never drop star items you can never use your extra shots against them. (With the exception of when the Stage 4 boss sends out some killable enemies)

As for the general design; while the stages can be a bit simple overall, there are some segments that shake things up or try to catch you off-guard, like enemies coming in from the sides to tackle you, or a cool unusual pattern, which I appreciate. The bosses are more challenging and some of them have pretty cool attacks, but sometimes they can also be a little plain...... and sometimes they can be total BS.

Which brings me to my critiques........

There is no way to earn extra lives via good play. You get 3 extra lives at set points (Stage 2, 5, and 6), and that's it. So the only reward for excellent grazing/dodging/scoring is, well, the score itself. Not unusual but I tend to prefer games that give extra rewards for good performance

The hitboxes on the Bomb and Life items are WAY smaller than they appear, so much so you can pass straight through the left or right sides and still not collect them. This can make catching them a pain, particularly in stages where you are Instantly shot at after they drop. Come on, man, just make the hitbox the size of the sprite for vital resources........

The sound and graphic design is....... mixed. The music is pretty good, but the sound design is not as clean as I'd like (plus certain bullets/lasers being...... slightly eardrum-piercing), and the graphics can can cause visibility issues. The biggest offender is Stage 4, which has some backgrounds that make it near impossible to read the enemies flying down at you. Borderline unfair at points.

There are also some bullets that are super tiny, and they're usually used as 'spam' IN COMBINATION with either homing or complex patterns, making them a HUGE pain in the ass. Might not be a Criticism per se but I did want to complain lmao

There is no grace window when you're hit, but dying doesn't cancel out a bomb activation, so what will often happen is: you'll see you're about to get hit, press Bomb the second you do, and then you lose BOTH a life AND one of your freshly replenished bombs. Very frustrating

I think that's it for now! There are some quality of life improvements I wish it had, like item magnetizing or deathbombing, but overall I've been having a LOT of fun with this game, and I think people who love the Touhou games should give them a try!!

For anyone who wants it, here is a link to download it, as well as links and instructions for getting it to run on modern hardware. There is also apparently a fanmade patch released recently, that allows it to run without 3rd party help? Here is the page on that if you wanna check it out

[crowleycringe]

Heya, is it okay if I ask about Arachne and Cain Prime’s lore?

Oh my gosh absolutely

(My writing got deleted while answering this helo)

I'm gonna start with Caine because he’s slightly less complex I guess?

His story starts like in the original in the bible

Since god favored Abel more than Caine this lead his jealousy to grow and grow and eventually killed his brother by striking a stone to his head

When confronted about the murder (and lying) he is punished by wandering the world in solitude for eternity, which would him to the gates of hell. He explores and suffers through the process of going through it leading to his apathetic nature before he comes across King Minos and his city of lust which was in construction

He sympathized with the boy and took him in as his own making him a resident of the city of lust, but unfortunately, this time of peace would be disturbed with Gabriel’s appearance.

As He witnessed the death of Minos he was distraught By the loss of the only admirable figure in his life which then led him to once again wander the layers of hell until he got to the greed layer where he met Sisyphus and Arachne. The three team up and Cain swears vengeance for Minos

Of course, in the end, they lose and Caines is pierced through the heart (which is why he doesn’t have a heart in his design like the others do) Soul is imprisoned like Minos.

And now for Arachne

Her story is also basically like the original but a bit in my version

Like in the original story; she’s a talented weaver who promptly earned praise from others

She believes that skill is earned by hard work and there's no such thing as being blessed to have been born with skills which paints her as an arrogant figure, of course, Gabriel hears of this and punishes her by sending her to the layer of greed.

She meets Sisyphus and the two sort of get along (frenemies) she agrees to help Sisyphus in his war against heaven.

But of course, the efforts come in Vain, and she dies at the hands of Gabriel, and her soul is too imprisoned like the rest

This turned out longer than I thought but thank you for asking about these two you have no idea how happy this makes me tehehehehe

[outdoorreviews]

Primos Original "The Can" Estrus Bleat Review

Introduction: For avid hunters seeking a reliable and effective deer call, the Primos Original "The Can" Estrus Bleat has been a staple in the hunting world for years. In this review, we'll dive into the features, performance, and overall value of this popular hunting product.

Design and Build Quality: The Primos "The Can" Estrus Bleat boasts a simple yet ingenious design. Shaped like a soda can, it fits comfortably in your hand and is incredibly easy to use. The can's construction is robust, ensuring durability in the field, even in challenging weather conditions. It's clear that Primos put thought into creating a hunting tool that's both practical and tough.

Sound Realism: One of the key attributes of "The Can" is its ability to produce a realistic estrus bleat call. The can's design allows for consistent and authentic vocalizations, mimicking the sound of a doe in estrus. Whether you're trying to attract bucks during the rut or simply curious about their presence, this call is highly effective in piquing their interest.

Ease of Use: Primos has designed "The Can" for hunters of all skill levels. With a simple flip and turn, you can produce the estrus bleat sound effortlessly. There's no need for complex manipulation or extensive practice. It's a user-friendly tool that delivers results, making it an excellent choice for both beginners and experienced hunters.

Versatility: While "The Can" is primarily known for its estrus bleat call, it's worth noting its versatility. You can use it throughout the hunting season for a range of deer vocalizations, including the soft tending grunts and louder, more aggressive calls. This adaptability makes it a valuable addition to any hunter's gear collection.

Value for Money: When it comes to the cost-to-performance ratio, Primos Original "The Can" Estrus Bleat delivers exceptional value. It's a budget-friendly option that doesn't compromise on quality or effectiveness. Considering its durability and versatility, it's a worthwhile investment for any deer hunter.

Conclusion: In the world of hunting calls, Primos Original "The Can" Estrus Bleat stands out as a dependable and efficient choice. Its realistic sound, ease of use, and versatility make it a valuable asset for hunters of all levels. If you're looking to enhance your hunting experience and increase your chances of success, "The Can" should be in your hunting gear arsenal. It's a proven performer that continues to earn its place among the top hunting calls in the industry.

Rating: I would rate the Primos Original "The Can" Estrus Bleat 4.5 out of 5 stars. It offers excellent performance, durability, and versatility at an affordable price, making it a highly recommended choice for deer hunters. However, there's always room for improvement, and there might be slightly more advanced options on the market for those who want additional features or customization.

[kenovele]

Bogs Blog 24

7th May 2023

Another week has passed. These days weeks are going by faster and faster, and we still seem to be in the final push phase of the tiny house build despite the fact that the weeks still progress and are list does not seem to decrease in size. But maybe it has something to do with the daylight hours, days are getting shorter and colder and our motivation to work on the Tiny house after work is getting less and less. The last couple of weeks were massive ones on the Tiny, we were working on it often from 8am and then sometimes to as late as 11pm after dinner in the shed working on projects and little design things that we want to have in the house. Working on it so much that it appeared that Benoit had no motivation left to even write his blog! Although it has been fun to feel so close to finishing, we have been feeling like this for a few weeks, and we are looking forward to the day when the final push really is the final one. But the closer we seem to get at the moment the longer our list gets too.

Although we have made progress, on Monday afternoon after a day of site visits with Benoit we headed up to town to pick up our beautiful bar stools (which look rather similar to the ones at Rouvreux), we also made some decisions on the tiles for the kitchen. The decision was a hard one, I am slightly worried about the pattern of the benchtop being too busy with the shape of the tiles that we wanted. However, we found nothing else that we liked as much as these hexagonal ones. So it is a bit of a risk as I have no idea how it is all going to go together but I am hopeful that this design decision works out as well as all the others we have made.

Since then, however we have been busy in our separate lives and I have hardly seen my choupie d’amour all week. On Tuesday and Wednesday, I was working in Te Aroha so had a blissful night by myself in a hotel where I ate Indian food for dinner in bed and watched sad romance movies to my hearts content. Then Thursday I had the day off work to celebrate my friend Cathys graduation and the boys stayed up in town at my Aunts place as it is closer to where they are currently working. Benoit will have more information for you, but this week he has been employed by my brother to be his apprentice and helper in a few building jobs that he has lined up before he starts his big world tour of New Zealand. So, this week, Benoit and Jamie have been busy building a deck, two decks actually and on a third level of an apartment complex so it is rather technical work getting all the materials up and down the stair cases. Although it is hard work, I think the boys are both enjoying working together and earning some money (I especially think Benoit is enjoying having some pocket money to buy himself beers, although I feel like he is buying my brother more beers as he seems to frequently bet a box of beers on something and then ends up losing the bet – although I am not sure why he is surprised as my brother is serious when it comes to beer). But I am happy to see them having fun together, how lucky am I to have my two favourite people that get along so well!

This weekend, it has been another busy one. On Saturday morning it was finally the two-pot epoxy experiment on our bench top test, rather stressful as epoxy is very hard to do nicely, and we have no room for error as the bench is already in the kitchen, so I was rather nervous but with enough back ground research we managed, like everything in the tiny house, we made it work. And we are happy. On Sunday we were happy with the test and decided to start on the benchtop, we both spent the morning prepping and getting everything epoxy proof. It was a team effort as we recruited both Mum and Dad to help us out. Honestly, I am so proud of how our wee house has come together, from start to finish we have been involved in every step, every tiny detail we chose and if I may say so myself, I am happy with the final result.

On Saturday night we went up for a surprise birthday party, royal themed to tie in with the coronation with our new King and this king of Ellerslie (my uncle). It was a lot of fun and we had a lot of laughs and a good catch up with everyone. We celebrated in a very well themed surprise birthday, we had beers and darts in the ‘English pub’, then dinner in the castle themes dining room and then presents in the church where we ate cake and watched the coronation of our new king, King Charles and Queen Camilla. It has been nice to add a few social things to our list of things that need to be done. We are both enjoying the variation in our lives, and I think it has been good to have a break from the tiny house over the week to come back full force this weekend.

Until next time - Love Kate xxx

[localbizpro]

If you're considering solar panel installation in Charlotte, you probably have a lot of questions. While many of these questions are commonly asked, there are some less often asked frequently asked questions that you may not have considered. Here are 10 less often asked frequently asked questions about solar panel installation in Charlotte:

Can solar panels work in cloudy weather?

Yes, solar panels can still work in cloudy weather. While they work best in direct sunlight, they can still generate electricity on cloudy days. However, the amount of electricity they generate may be reduced.

Do I need to have a south-facing roof for solar panels to work?

While south-facing roofs are ideal for solar panel installation, they are not a requirement. Solar panels can still work on east or west-facing roofs, although the amount of electricity they generate may be slightly reduced.

How long does it take to install solar panels on my home?

The length of time it takes to install solar panels on your home will depend on the size of the system and the complexity of the installation. Typically, a residential solar panel installation can take anywhere from one to three days.

How much maintenance do solar panels require?

Solar panels require very little maintenance. They should be cleaned periodically to remove dirt and debris, and you may need to trim nearby trees or foliage to ensure they receive enough sunlight. Other than that, solar panels are designed to be very low maintenance.

How much money can I save with solar panels?

The amount of money you can save with solar panels will depend on a number of factors, including the size of the system, your energy usage, and the cost of electricity in your area. However, most homeowners can expect to save thousands of dollars over the life of their solar panel system.

What financing options are available in Charlotte for solar panel installation?

There are a variety of financing options available for solar panel installation in Charlotte, including loans, leases, and power purchase agreements (PPAs). Your solar panel installer can help you explore your options and find the best financing solution for your needs.

What incentives are available for solar panel installation?

There are a number of incentives available for solar panel installation in Charlotte, including federal tax credits, state rebates, and net metering programs. Your solar panel installer can help you navigate these incentives and maximize your savings.

Will solar panels increase the value of my home?

Yes, solar panels can increase the value of your home. Studies have shown that homes with solar panels sell for more than homes without solar panels and that buyers are willing to pay a premium for homes with solar panels.

Can I install solar panels myself?

While it is technically possible to install solar panels yourself, it is not recommended. Solar panel installation can be complex and dangerous, and it is best left to professional installers with the necessary experience and equipment.

What happens if my solar panels generate more electricity than I use?

If your solar panels generate more electricity than you use, the excess electricity will be sent back to the grid. Depending on your utility company and the net metering program in your area, you may be able to earn credits on your utility bill for the excess electricity you generate.

In conclusion, there are many frequently asked questions about solar panel installation in Charlotte, but there are also some less often asked questions that are worth considering. By understanding the answers to these questions, you can make an informed decision about whether solar panel installation is right for you. Remember to work with a reputable solar panel installer who can help you explore your options, maximize your savings, and ensure a safe and successful installation. At Charlotte Solar Panel Experts, we pride ourselves on providing high-quality solar panel installation services to homeowners throughout Charlotte and the surrounding areas. Our experienced team can answer all of your frequently asked questions and help you explore your options for solar panel installation. Contact us today to schedule a consultation and start saving money on your energy bills with solar power!

In addition to the less often asked frequently asked questions listed above, there are a few other key considerations to keep in mind when it comes to solar panel installation. One of the most important is choosing the right solar panel installer. Not all installers are created equal, and it's important to work with a reputable installer who has the necessary experience and expertise to ensure a safe and successful installation.

Another key consideration is the type of solar panels you choose for your installation. There are many different types of solar panels available, each with its own advantages and disadvantages. Some common types of solar panels include monocrystalline, polycrystalline, and thin-film solar panels. Your solar panel installer can help you determine which type of panel is best suited for your needs and budget.

For more Frequently Asked Questions visit our website at https://solarpanelinstallationcharlotte.com/faq.html

Or go to our office:

Address: 100 N Tryon St, Charlotte, NC 28202

+1 704-248-7505

[thornstocutyouwith]

As they say they didn't know, to his comment, he looks away, considering this for a moment. But mentally designates it as something to potentially come back to. But he gives a nod toward Astrid however "Okay." He continued to listen to them. Though their question earned a slight grin from him "I think you might be." Of course, he wished he could know more about the situation, to give a more appropriate response "Maybe I just need a little more about the situation you and this thing you're not saying." Journey suggested, lightly.

When conversation went on, he nodded. Of course he had expected that answer from them. He shrugged slightly "I think you are imagining what I might consider is worth hating someone, for. Hate can be pretty exhausting, actually." Did he get mad, sure, he could be mad. Everyone's welcome to get mad. Of course, it was often received wrong by the general public, because anger was often aggressive. Which could often mean confrontation. Confrontation was difficult to interpret as a helpful instrument, and seen more as a destructive one. He exhaled, trying to keep this in mind.

Raising his eyebrows as they mention that their life, complicated as it is, didn't involve him "Ah. Heh." He smirked a little bit, not sure if he was going to think that was a true statement for long. His life could also be pretty complicated "Maybe we have our life's complexities meet, right?" Though he continued to listen to Astrid, nodding acknowledged toward their words. Though with their question he brings his hands to nit them together in his lap "I simply wouldn't. I would imagine. --What's the point in it. It's your relationships. Would I want to protect you from one that is adverse to you. Yeah! It's what a good person should do. None of the standing around you see a lot these days, watching the spectral."

He sighed though "But, that's often a difficult road to travel, too." Looking at Astrid, he grinned "But your ex is not going to bother me. This is someone you knew, before me. As long as you respect what we have. Then you shouldn't need to worry." He assures.

they think it's the worst thing in the world. sure, astrid may have not been ideally clear enough about their own emotions, but this? this was something they truly wanted to get out of the way, in case anything more came up. if that even made sense -- astrid wanted to get everything out, make sure that he knew they weren't . . trying to hurt him, because that's not what they wanted, not out of this. astrid knew that everyone made mistakes, but not these kinds. & it wasn't like astrid was planning to get back with anyone, considering that they couldn't handle it, the heartache, all of that. it's not something that they wanted to really . . think about. " i don't know, journey. " astrid replies, feeling like they're giving up because they can't seem to put a handle on things : that they're just going to get more & more frustrated at the thought of them taking things too recklessly. " i just wanted to be honest with you. because --, in case, you know, things happen & . . i'm thinking too hard about this, aren't i? "

nodding at his words, finding a near solution for most of their issues, astrid's taking a beat -- a shuddering breath comes out from their lips, immediately feeling like they should tell him the truth. well, they've told him half of it, but honesty is the best policy, right? " i wouldn't . . i mean, i wouldn't be mad if you did hate me forever, i would, too. " they're letting out, shoulders loosely shrugging before picking at their fingers, contemplating on anything else -- on if they should tell him the extent of things. this wasn't what they wanted, to hurt him. to see the pain painted on his face, to see all of it come down. astrid's an idiot, they know they are. deep down, they should've been truthful from the start, to avoid all of this, the confrontation.

" nothing in my complicated life could be about you, journey, " they know that much. seeing how he's been able to make their life slightly better, & they're absolutely thankful for that, which was why they couldn't think about hurting him like this. " i'd . . hate the person who's telling me that they got mixed up with their ex, i don't know. feel betrayed? " astrid's responding, with this lighthearted, yet lifeless sound leaving their lips, ultimately getting more & more annoyed with themselves, with this whole situation happening, when they could've been more honest. " what would you do? " they're asking, feeling a short panic overwhelm their body before chewing down on their lower lip, gaining this nervous ache in their body, soon enough. " . . i don't want whatever this is to end because i let my ex come back into my life. "

[alexandriaisburning]

015: Girls’ Fashion Shoot

CANON FIRE is made possible by the generous contributions of readers like you. Support more writing like this on Patreon. Thank you!

Girls’ Fashion Shoot is the second or third entry in the "Model Debut" series, made as a tie-in for Nicola, a Japanese fashion magazine aimed at young teen and pre-teen girls. It's hard to say exactly which entry this is, because even Japanese Wikipedia's page for the series is little more than a stub (1). Girls’  Fashion Shoot is the only one of these titles that's been localized here, and aside from some unreadable scans of Nicola covers in certain backgrounds, all traces of the Nicola branding have been scrubbed.

Playing this was the first time that I'd felt entirely out of my depth when covering a game for the series. Not because it's complex--in fact compared to a lot of other "games for girls", GFS is incredibly straightforward. Something like Style Savvy often has plenty of simulation or management aspects, and even the casually paced pets sims can give you plenty to think about over the long term. Instead I was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of choices it gives you before you even start the game. 

Immediately, Girls’ Fashion Shoot bombards you with questions like your lucky number, favorite color, printed patterns, and favorite style, with differentiation between the general image (cute, cool, tomboy, sporty etc.) and the formal style (prep, lolita, Bohemian, BCBG), all with the assumption you understand what these mean. Some fashion styles I hadn't even heard of before, so before the game even began I was doing frantic web searches. 

After this little quiz you immediately get thrown into making an outfit for your first fashion audition,with zero character customization outside of hairstyle or eye color. Given the huge focus on personal style, I was honestly shocked to see you couldn't change anything about the character. It became the first personal friction point of many. It's possible that this was also a budget consideration, since later titles in the series have slightly more options (2), though you may or may not be surprised to hear there isn't much variety for skin tones. 

By contrast the starting options for creating your first outfit are absurdly large. There's more options here than might be available in the entirety of a big budget game, all of which you get to keep afterward, and continue to add to afterwards. Clothing all have multiple tags for colors, style etc., which you'll need to make browsing manageable, and to help you meet magazine assignments.

I found the magazine prompts helpful here, since they helped me narrow down which options I should be looking at, and focus on making one out of the ones that matched the theme. It helped me get out of my head when it came to my own personal preferences for styles and aesthetics. 

Good or bad, I tend to end up projecting my sense of style onto characters I create in games, which inadvertently leads me to making pretty safe choices even when presented with tons of wild options. Having my options narrowed down, or straight up having outfits picked out for me, kept me from getting the usual aesthetic tunnel vision and made me more adventurous with my choices. 

Magazine layouts are a different beast. There's an almost Blingee sense of style to the decorative options given to you here. Sparkles, heart, diamonds, skulls--there's a whole suite of decorations and backgrounds to bedazzle your photos with. Personally, I often found this aesthetic kind of tacky, but in this context it works well, and gave me an appreciation of the hyper girly touch they added. 

Girls’ Fashion Shoot's loop is so straightforward that most of my responses come from how I feel about character creation, fashion and personal aesthetics. The game's loop of taking jobs, designing outfits and layouts, and using the earnings to grow your closet and repertoire is so immediate and simple there isn't much to say about it. Yet it still ended up challenging me because of how it bumped up against how I play games and my own self-image. And this is before I get into any of the gender feelings stuff, which would double the length of this piece. 

Straightforward to the point of obvious, Girls’ Fashion Shoot is an everyday fantasy meant to be enjoyed for minutes at a time, but gave me enough to think about for an entire month. The nuances of what options they considered important, and what they cut in translating that for an English speaking audience, is fascinating in its own right. It's easy to take it on its face and see another simple entry in the catalog of girl's games, but with a genuine interest, and a little self-reflection, you'll find plenty to dig into.  

Girls Fashion Shoot is available on 3DS via retail and eShop, at until the eShop closure in 2023. As an aside, hacking a 3DS is easy, anyone can do it.

[babyjakes]

forever and a day | 44. a soft place.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

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summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.

characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)

warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). action and fight scenes with violence and killing. injuries/mild gore. mature themes related to and semi-graphic depictions of child abuse/neglect, past CSA and CSM, and their aftermath (emaciation, wounds, scarring, etc). medical abuse and experimentation. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM and other aftermath of abuse.trauma-informed therapeutic treatment of ECT. minor mentions of disordered eating. themes relating to abuse of power/authority and immoral interrogation tactics including SA (with brief depictions.) evil!Tony Stark.

[Steve]

Silent tears roll down Willa’s puffy cheeks as I glance at her through the rear-view mirror. After her episode that ended with us seated on the parking garage floor, I was eventually able to coax the little girl back into the car-seat positioned in the vehicle, though unfortunately, I wasn’t able to do so without bringing her back to the point of tears. The child keeps her mouth clamped shut, not daring to say a word as the city flies by through her window. “We’ve got a little bit longer before we’re there, doll,” I inform her soothingly, trying to keep my voice low and steady.

As my vision focuses back on the road in front of me, my mind begins to wander. There’s a single question sunken deep into my gut that I can’t shake: What did Tony do to her? He ran the trials to study her healing capabilities, that much is clear. But I can’t help thinking there’s more to this sick situation than just that. Willa’s never pushed me away during a flashback like that before, though we’ve experienced our fair share of joint memories together. Something in the look on her face, the desperation in her voice, gave her away; something truly terrible happened to her. And whatever it is, she doesn’t want me to know about it.

“It’s just a few blocks out of town, away from all the city traffic,” I explain to Willa as the tall buildings surrounding us begin to dwindle. “Nice and quiet, but still close to everything.” At this point, I don’t even know if she’s listening, but as I peek back at her again, I see her staring wide-eyed out her window at her surroundings. Turning down another road, we pull up to the apartment complex, and I turn off into the parking lot. Finding our designated space right in front of our building, I pull in right next to Bucky’s blue car, shifting into park. “See? Just like the picture I showed you,” I coo softly to the child, hoping to ease any fears she might still be harboring about laboratories. In front of us stands the blue two-story building. The first floor is Bucky’s apartment, and the second is ours. It was kind of wild luck that there was a listing for the place just as I started looking.

Shoving my keys in my pocket and unbuckling my seat-belt, I throw my door open, closing it tightly before making my way to Willa’s door. Opening it carefully, I smile at her, my heart aching as I notice a few fresh tears built up in her big green eyes. “What d'you say we get you out of that thing and go check the place out together?” I suggest, earning a timid nod from the girl.

Keeping my movements slow and obvious, I reach out and unbuckle the straps over her arms and legs, pulling back slightly to see if she’ll lift herself up and out. Instead, she just stares back at me with wide eyes, appearing too afraid to move.

“Would you like me to carry you, sweetheart? Or do you wanna walk on your own?” Willa’s bottom lip trembles as her gaze wanders; raising my brow at her gently, I realize she isn’t sure what she’s allowed to say. “Here, I’ve got you pumpkin,” I murmur as I gather her in my arms, sliding a hand underneath her to support her fragile body. Carrying her like this, she feels as if she weighs nothing at all. Though we’ve slowly been increasing her intake, her weight still remains a big worry for both me and Bruce. “Let’s go in and see, shall we?” I suggest, closing the car door and locking it with my fob.

Quietly, we walk up to the tall blue building, making our way over to the white-painted stairs that lead up to our own little balcony. “Here it is,” I say, fumbling in my pocket for the keys. Unlocking the door, I swing it open, stepping inside the entryway. As soon as I’ve closed the door behind us, a deep sense of settling falls over me. After all this time, finally, finally I’ve brought her home.

Willa’s big eyes peer shyly around the room, her thumb having made its way back up into her little mouth. “What d'you think, doll? Does it look like the pictures?” I ask, causing her to nod quietly. It’s a lovely little apartment. The front door leads right into the medium grey living room where I’ve set up a nice white couch in front of a glass and oak coffee table. Against the wall is a medium-sized television, a narrow bookshelf resting under it that matches the coffee table to hold movies and such. A set of light brown armchairs accompany the couch, providing hopefully enough room for any friends who might come pay us a visit.

Beyond the living space, the room opens up into the combined dining room and kitchen. Walking slowly to allow the little girl to take everything in, I carry her into the much brighter space, complete with soft gold walls - what I know to be one of Willa’s favorite colors. The back wall is lined with crisp white cabinets paired with stainless steel appliances, providing us with more than enough room for cooking up whatever our hearts may desire. In front of the tall french-styled window on the sidewall, I’ve set up a lovely circular dining table with matching padded chairs. At the center of the table sits a slender glass vase, holding a couple of sunflowers. “With a kitchen like this, I’m going to need to step up my cooking game,” I joke softly, earning a small smile from the little girl.

Stepping through the single archway next to the fridge, we enter the short hallway at the back of the apartment. “Here’s a bathroom,” I say as I open the door to the left of the archway, flicking the light switch on for a few moments to reveal the baby blue room.

Moving back out into the hallway, we come up to the first door on the right. “And here’s the guest room,” I continue, opening the door up and stepping inside. The walls are a simple grey color, with two twin beds positioned in either corner of the room. “Here’s where Peter and Wanda can stay when they come over to visit.”

“S'eepover,” Willa says quietly through her thumb, causing me to smile at her adorableness.

“That’s right, sweetie. We can have lots of sleepovers. The TV out front will work great for movie marathons.”

“Thor, too?” the child asks, catching me by surprise.

“Well sure, I don’t see why not,” I chuckle lightly.

“Movie marath-thon… with Peter and Thor,” Willa smiles contently, almost to herself, and my heart just melts.

Backing out into the hallway again, we come to the door in the middle, and I twist the knob, pushing it open in front of us. “Here’s my room,” I tell her. It’s a decent space, big enough to fit a standard king-sized bed, a set of night tables, a dresser, and a desk. Two big windows cover the far wall behind the bed, covered by delicate white curtains. The walls are painted a gentle navy blue, fitting for Captain America. A door to the side leads to a connected bath, which I don’t feel the need to show the girl.

“Blue,” she says, pointing to the walls.

“Yep, I picked the color out myself,” I tell her, earning a nod of approval.

“Lots of pillows,” she adds, looking at the bed.

“There sure are. Maybe we’ll have to build a pillow fort later,” I tease, bouncing her slightly in my arms. As the little girl lets out a quiet giggle, I can feel my whole body easing up. After all the ups and downs of today, she’s finally here and seeing everything I’ve worked so hard to put together. I can’t wait to show her the last room. It’s made to be her favorite. “And we just have one more room to look at,” I tell her, trying to build up some anticipation as I step out of the master and back into the hallway. Positioning us right in front of the last door on the left, I look down at Willa. “Are you ready to see your room, doll?” I ask. Her eyes widen, and she nods.

Delicately, I turn the knob and swing the door open, stepping into the space. The walls are painted baby pink, the child’s favorite color. Against the back wall sits a double bed dressed in a fluffy white comforter, a set of light yellow pillows sprawled out at the head. “I figured we should get you a bigger bed, since we spend so many nights cuddling,” I explain. She has a white wooden nightstand to match the bed frame, a simple pink lamp sitting atop it. She has a white dresser as well; everything is matching. Even the frames on the four paintings hanging on the right wall in a square, all various scenes of flower fields. Below the pictures, pressed up against the wall, are two wooden crates filled with toys. The whole team was happy to help in picking out various dolls, figurines, plushes, art supplies, blocks, games, and other gifts for the little girl. Beside the toys sits a simple white bookshelf, stocked to the edges with favorites from everyone, from Kitten Goes to School to Goodnight Moon.

Letting my gaze fall back down to Willa, my heart softens as she peers up at me, her eyes wide and filled with wonder. “It’s… f-for me? Really?” she asks in pure disbelief.

“That’s right, sweetheart. It’s all for you,” I tell her gently, taking her hand in mine and giving it a kiss on the back. And as she continues to gaze up at me, her vibrant eyes almost glossy with tears, something completely unexpected happens; she begins to glow again, for the second time today.

Only this time, the soft light dancing across her skin isn’t red. Instead, it’s a mild blue.

Her little hand reaches up and presses against my cheek, and to my surprise, I’m swept into her mind once again. But this time, I’m shown a completely different place. A place that must be tucked somewhere deep inside her heart; a soft place. Safe, and warm. Various images flash across the screen of Willa and I together. The day we met, at the moment I picked her up, all the way back in Seoul. That very first touch, so terrifying and new. One of the first times in her life when foreign skin meeting her own didn’t hurt. Then, the first time she fell asleep in my arms in her bed at the tower and woke up to find me still there, not gone like she so deeply feared. And the first time she told me she loved me, when I held her up in front of me and looked her in the eyes, telling her that I knew I had loved her my whole life. And the moment she decided to take Tony’s blast for me. And so many more. Memories upon memories of us playing, reading, eating. Talking, laughing, hugging. Crying, holding. Loving, healing.

And as I sit in this soft, safe place, a place I feel so deeply privileged to have been let into by the girl, I realize something very important. While I’ve worked very hard recently to make a physical home for Willa, the truth is: I’ve been making a home for Willa ever since the day we met. Every moment we’ve spent together has helped to build it, starting from the ground up. It’s been here the whole time; I just haven’t known it. Tucked away behind her sleepy eyelashes, the tiny gap between her front teeth. On the tip of her little nose that I’ve always found so pokeable, so kissable. Behind her ears and connecting the freckles dotting across her cheeks, it’s everywhere. Just out of sight, but there, nonetheless. That’s our true home, the places where all our memories lie.

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[hajimeiwaswife]

WHAT A SIMP | CHAPTER 6: STRANGERS TO LESS STRANGERS

[WAS MASTERLIST]

[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

Playlist

Note: written segments

Y/n left her phone aside and continued watching the TV screen. She felt awkward next to Mikey, and more knowing he had other intentions, but he was so distracted with the game the characters were playing that she thought he didn’t notice the tension or that he was ignoring it, no in between.

When Chishiya appeared again she jumped on the couch, a little excitement gasp leaving her mouth as the platinum haired boy walked towards the correct door.

“I can’t believe you like that guy.” Mikey huffed, crossing his arms, though not missing a single detail from the show. “He looks like he thinks he’s better than everyone.”

“That’s what makes him attractive.” She replied, a dreamy look and soft voice surprising Mikey. The only thing he had gotten from her was a simple ‘would you like something to drink?’

“So you like men who would treat you as if you were dumb?”

“I don’t like men, I like Shuntaro Chishiya and the actor that plays him, that’s it.”

There was a brief silence after the comment, Y/n’s idea was that maybe Mikey was more interested in seeing Arisu shout the answer, but the reality was that Mikey was disappointed with her declaration. Pouty, he gazed at her side profile, trying to decide whether he should ask about that or about what happened to her that day. There was a possibility both things were related, and he would love to help.

But the hardened look she gave him when she caught him staring was enough to stop him from running after his own death. After all, they weren't friends, he wasn't even sure why she invited him; maybe he was the only option she had left. How pathetic from his part. But, at the same time, he could use this chance to bond with her a little more.

"And why do you like this show so much?" Mikey asked once that episode was over.

"Hmm? What do you mean? It's amazing." she replied, kinda offended.

"I didn't mean it like that!" he rushed to clarify, shaking his hands in front of him to help him. "I meant if you had any reasons aside."

"Oh." was the only thing Y/n said before staring at her hands for a few seconds. Mikey believed she wasn't going to answer and he was going to feign as if she hadn't just ignored him, but her voice made his chest jump. "I guess it's the plot, I'm really interested in how someone could create something so complex, with so clever games. And, of course, the characters. They are so different, but they all have the same motivation: survive." she explained, taking a deep breath. "I like to compare it to daily life, at the end of the day all of us just want to have a simple life, and we do whatever it takes to fulfil that dream; a new car, a good job, good grades, going out with friends... The path to get them would be something like the games at the Borderlands."

Mikey stood there, quiet, assimilating everything Y/n had just said. Even if it didn't look like it, that little piece of information gave away a lot about her, especially her vision about life.

He smiled slightly, he knew she was gorgeous, but she was also intelligent, and for what it seemed, determinant and ambitious. He couldn't wait to get to know her more.

"Then let's keep watching it, I want to see if I envision it the same way as you!" asked Mikey, earning a little chuckle from the girl next to him that made him blush.

"Okay, but just one more, it's getting late."

An hour later, Y/n was accompanying Mikey to the door, the latter talking about how unfair the last game had been.

"It was there all the time, that's not fair."

"Well, it was an easy game, if only they had looked better, they all would have survived." Y/n shrugged her shoulders, waiting for the boy to put on his shoes.

"I guess," he agreed, standing up again. "but the way it was designed was clearly to make them die."

"Aww, you're getting it!" she faked tenderness, and Mikey laughed, opening the door.

"Would you team up with me in those games?" he asked, one foot already outside of the apartment.

"Who knows, your strength could be useful."

"I would definitely team up with you." he claimed, smiling with determination.

"And why is that?" the girl lifted a brow, smiling in mock.

"You're pretty." he chuckled, and Y/n looked at him bewildered.

"That's not a reason!" she exclaimed. "You would die with those parameters."

"Don't worry, princess, I am good at surviving." was the last thing he said before exciting the apartment and catching the elevator.

Y/n couldn't stop thinking about her afternoon with Mikey. It had been awkward at first, but at the end of the day he achieved what she needed: for her to forget about Mitsuya for a few hours. He wasn't that bad of a company, and she wouldn't mind to get to know him a little better, maybe even be friends with him in a late future.

Mikey, on his part, was in cloud nine. He had spent a few hours with his crush, he hadn't felt so alive since his brother, Shinichiro, gifted him his Babu.

FUN FACTS

Yuzuha and Y/n have known each other for quite some time, more than Y/n has known the others. The pact they have has to do with their pasts.

Emma secretly ships Mikey and Y/n.

Baji doesn't know what happens around him, he's kinda lost.

Tag list: @mizumellon @wakasagurl @sseorin @konigasaki @chaoticyuna @akqshie @sunahyejin @lagrimasdeglitter @q-the-rockaholic @akisrandom

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

The Jordan Hill article is a great example of what I am currently learning, just as an update I did end up changing majors. I am currently majoring in early childhood education, and the majority of our course work is focused on gender identity and how the teachers emphasis on certain subjects creates bias. Last week we spoke about how more logical subjects make girls feel less competent. Only to be told this week that maybe if teachers focused more on educating and praising girls when they complete a math problem we can help reduce gender and sex bias in the classroom. On today’s topic we will be learning about the gingerbread man/woman to display the complexities of sex and gender identification. I am don’t know if you have heard of the so called gingerbread person, but I just had to say something after reading the hill article.

Yikes.

Yes, I’ve posted about that before. It should go without saying that it’s completely unscientific and requires one to believe that humans did not evolve alongside other species that are sexually dimorphic and exhibit gendered behaviors.

Social constructivism is inherently a form of “intelligent design.” Where Xians believe that an all-powerful god created life, social constructivists believe that an all-powerful oppressor class invented the "lie” of sex and gender and socially engineered everyone into accepting this as “truth” and perpetuate it in the preservation of that power.

Except the most rudimentary study of pretty much any other species, and certainly any mammal, will demonstrate this is obviously false. Which, of course, is why science must be “decolonized” to let non-science be treated like actual science.

And worse, it’s all based on stereotypes. What I have is a slightly different version, but let’s zoom in on some of the detail:

That is, build your identity around tired stereotypes of what “woman-ness” and “man-ness” means, what “feminine” and “masculine” mean.

You can’t be a femme boy, or a tomboy girl. You have to identify along lines of not being a boy or a girl at all.

And of course, the messaging itself will influence children who are still learning to navigate the world and figure out how it works. That, of course, is the point of indoctrination. Pretending that well-understood concepts and language are actually complex allows shallow, juvenile takes to masquerade as intellectual profundities.

==

By all means, let’s work on the gender bias in the classroom.

https://dash.harvard.edu/bitstream/handle/1/4740480/Pathways_to_Prosperity_Feb2011-1.pdf

In recent years, a yawning gender gap has opened up in American higher education. Men now account for just 43 percent of enrollment in our nation's colleges and earn only 43% of bachelor's degrees. Not surprisingly, women also account for 60 percent of the nations graduate students.

-- Taken from the report-Gender Equity in Higher Education: 2010-issued by the American Council on Education. The report also found that among undergraduate students over 25, women outnumber men by a two-to-one margin. The largest gender gap was found among African Americans, where 63 percent of all undergraduates were women.

https://www.ppic.org/blog/the-growing-gender-divide-in-higher-education/

https://www.brookings.edu/blog/up-front/2021/01/12/the-unreported-gender-gap-in-high-school-graduation-rates/

https://www.aei.org/carpe-diem/prediction-no-graduation-speaker-will-mention-the-29-gender-college-degree-gap-for-the-class-of-2018/

https://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2017/11/gender-education-gap/546677/

https://www.heraldscotland.com/news/12027786.the-gender-gap-that-threatens-to-become-a-chasm/

https://www.theguardian.com/education/2019/sep/05/gap-in-academic-skills-of-girls-and-boys-widens-show-sats

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2021/09/young-men-college-decline-gender-gap-higher-education/620066/

https://archive.ph/Fj6wY

But I don’t think they don’t want to do that, when they’re busy creating the bias. It’s not even a new bias; Christina Hoff Sommers was talking about this 20 years ago.

https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2000/05/the-war-against-boys/304659/

https://www.amazon.com/WAR-AGAINST-BOYS-Misguided-Feminism/dp/0684849577

This, along with being 75% of all homeless, 75% of all suicides, 92% of all workplace deaths, two thirds of all victims of violent crime, 75% of all murder victims and dying 5 years earlier, falls under the broad spectrum suite of “systemic” benefits they experience called “male privilege.”

Certainly, in many countries, girls getting access to a quality education is a very big challenge. However, when we’re talking about luxury beliefs such as the “Genderbread Person,” we’re not talking about Afghanistan or Somalia or Chad. And the activists sure aren’t talking about them.

==

You may find Dr. Lyell Asher’s examination of education schools to be enlightening.

https://quillette.com/author/lyell-asher/

He points out that the corruption in ed schools is far older than the current Woke plague that is beleaguering us and threatening the future of all kids, their employability and the competitiveness of the countries where it takes hold.

https://www.amazon.com/Schools-We-Need-Dont-Have/dp/0385495242

‘The widest street in the world’ is one witty description of the street that separates the campus of Teachers College from the rest of Columbia University. The current sentiment at research universities that professors of education are ‘lesser breeds without the law’ is one that has been expressed since the beginning of the century. In 1916, Abraham Flexner wrote that education schools had ‘lost their heads’ when they called for the removal of important knowledge as well as trivia from the school curriculum. He complained of their unwarranted devotion to technique, as well as the ‘absurdities and trivialities’ of their course offerings and dissertation topics. In 1929, Irving Babbit of Harvard observed that professors of pedagogy ‘are held in almost universal suspicion in academic circles, and are not infrequently looked upon by their colleagues as downright charlatans.’ Not long thereafter, in 1933, the retiring president of Harvard, Lawrence Lowell, told the Board of Overseers that Harvard’s school of education was a ‘kitten that ought to be drowned.’ During the downsizing of more recent decades, education schools continue to be among the first place universities look for belt-tightening, and in some places, notably Johns Hopkins, Yale, and Duke, such schools have disappeared'

Even those running the schools recognized the problem.

“Study, reflection, debate, careful reading, even, yes, serious thinking, is often conspicuous by its absence. [..] Un-intellectualism—not anti-intellectualism, as this assumes malice—is all too prevalent.”

-- Theodore Sizer (Dean, Harvard Graduate School of Education) and Walter Powell (Associate Dean, Harvard Graduate School of Education), “Changing Conceptions of the Professor of Education” (1969)

-

“... elite education schools are doing an adequate job of conveying fundamental, broad-based knowledge and skills to prospective teachers. The foundations and methods courses we reviewed suggest that faculty at most of these schools are often trying to teach a particular ideology-that traditional knowledge is repressive by its very nature-without directing their students to any substantial readings that question the educational implications of this view.”

-- David Steiner, Susan Rozen, “A Qualified Teacher in Every Classroom” (2004)

By 2004, we can see the threads of what we now know as “other ways of knowing,” social constructivism and the abandonment of educational content in preference to activism.

==

I don’t mean to try to put you off from your ambition. More to affirm what you’ve already noticed: that the challenge here is larger than advertised. It’s not merely making it through tertiary education, meeting all the demands and the work that such education entails. But also navigating an authoritarian ideology that has become extremely confident in itself - supremely so, one might even say -  and brooks no dissent.

I tip my imaginary hat to you for the challenge that you’re taking on.

As with any young non-believer growing up around fundamentalist religionist parents, you will likely find you have to lie in order to get by. But if you can discreetly find others whose ethics are more liberal and less postmodern Marxian, you may find you’re not as alone here as it might seem.

And hopefully there’ll be more teachers like Jordan Hill and fewer like this.

That is, “gaslight infants and toddlers for their own good.”

[newtgati]

Digimon Survive Spoilers please do not read any of this if you have not beaten the game these are my personal thoughts! This is my opinion incoming ⚠️⚠️⚠️

——————————————————————————————————————————————————

I’m gonna be perfectly honest and say that I really didn’t enjoy this game as much as I would have liked. And I do want to clarify that yes I did know it was a visual novel and only 30 percent combat, I bought this knowing exactly what it was marketed as. What I have gripes about is not the format, it is the story and characters. If you enjoyed this game all the power to you! These are just my silly little ramblings and feelings and I don’t expect anyone to agree with me!

There is a lot of recycled dialogue, and it didn’t feel like a lot of the characters had development. Rather most of it fell down to them having doubts about the situation, their Digimon partners telling them to cheer up and believe in themselves, and then realising that they can get through this and feel better. This isn’t bad...

...Until you realise that you have heard this conversation about 50 times over through the course of the story.

It gives the illusion of depth, of course I’d understand if this sort of thing is done after a character death. In fact one of the better parts of the story in my opinion was chapter 6 after the death of Shuuji, where Minoru and some others started to feel scared of their Digimon since they had the potential to turn bad and dark digivolve. After Minoru’s fight with Falcomon they do feel like a unit and their development does feel earned. This cannot be said for most of the other characters however. I understand that they are all children in a dreadful situation but I felt we barely got to know most of them, even when going out of my way to try and raise affinity with everyone that I could. I wasn’t expecting the deepest or complex characters but with the amount of dialogue written I felt there was enough space for some sort of character development. But instead many felt flat to me. There were many instances of repeating the same thing with everyone as well, like in the sewers or in exploration segments where you’d have to fight or do the same action in each area, just because it worked once for one character, doesn’t mean I need to see the same thing happen with another with slightly altered dialogue to accommodate.

Also this was my first playthrough and I got the moral ending, which was probably the most neutral. I know the game is intended to be played multiple times and you need new game plus to get the truthful ending which has everyone alive and is the best one. But after the first I don’t feel too motivated to do this. Having to play a forced flawed run in order to play the everything again for the best outcome I really don’t like.

My main gripe however and was the actual deal breaker is how the game handles choice. Having there be 2 scripted deaths really bugs me, especially since the game hammers it in that you could have prevented them when you cannot. I feel that instead it would have been better to have a more fluid story where any characters could have died, had their affinity not have been enough, to be locked out of saving people by default I feel is a bad design decision in my opinion. Maybe there should have been a hard limit the first time through that made you really think hard about who to spend time with, so you would still have some deaths on your hands, but at least they would have made sense and up to you. You made the choice. I know this would have been much more tedious to implement and write but I was kinda hoping for more choice. As for the deaths themselves, they were interesting but the fact that Ryo and Shuuji can’t be saved anyway the first time makes them much cheaper all around. You just kinda watch it happen while the game makes you feel like a jerk for letting them get this bad. The post credits “If Ryo’s affinity was higher maybe everyone could have survived” was more of a punch in the gut rather than a way to spur me on to start the truthful route and save everyone. I don’t know if I was the only one who felt this way about that in particular.

I enjoyed the gameplay, it was mainly easy throughout but a swift difficulty curve toward the last through fights. It’s also great that we have an origin story about how the Digimon world came to be as well as prequel to Adventure.

I’m not gonna leave a bad review don’t worry, this game just didn’t do it for me personally, and I don’t want to add to the unjust review bombing that some people are doing. It didn’t make its mark on me and that’s ok. But for anyone who may have disliked it I’d thought I’d voice what I didn’t like in case anyone agreed. I still want this game to do well so Bandai know we care about getting Digimon games in the west! Poor Yokai watch 4 never even got an English release :(