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[watthifi]

How to Select the Right Power Amplifier in India for Your Needs?

Find the perfect power amplifier in India for your audio needs. Explore top amplifier brands, compare power amplifier prices, and discover the best amplifier for outdoor speakers, including the Atoll power amplifier and budget preamplifiers. Shop power amplifiers today for high-quality sound!

[charlesmwa]

Why Do You Need a Backup for Your Sound System?

In the audio world, things don’t always go as planned. Power surges, equipment malfunctions, or even user errors can disrupt your setup. A backup solution acts as your safety net, ensuring smooth transitions and uninterrupted sound delivery. Whether you’re a DJ, sound engineer, musician, or event organizer, backups help maintain your professionalism and keep your audience engaged.

Here’s the thing: downtime isn’t just awkward—it can be costly, both in reputation and money. Investing in a backup solution is like getting insurance for your sound system. It’s peace of mind, knowing you can handle the unexpected.

Key Components of a Sound System Backup

A robust backup solution for a professional sound system isn’t just about having extra gear lying around. It’s about building redundancy into every critical aspect of your setup. Here are the main components you should consider:

Power Backup Power failures are one of the most common reasons for system crashes. A simple yet effective solution is an Uninterruptible Power Supply (UPS). A UPS provides temporary power during outages, giving you enough time to either restore power or shut down equipment safely. For larger setups, consider a generator as a secondary power source.

Redundant Audio SourcesImagine your laptop freezing mid-set or your playback device failing. Always have a secondary audio source ready to go. For DJs, this could mean a second laptop, a USB drive, or even a smartphone pre-loaded with essential tracks. For live bands, backup instruments or pre-recorded tracks can save the day.

Spare Cables and ConnectorsYou’d be surprised how often cables are the culprits behind audio issues. Keep an assortment of backup cables, connectors, and adapters in your toolkit. A well-organized cable bag with labeled compartments can save precious time during troubleshooting.

Backup Speakers and Amplifiers If your main speakers or amplifiers fail, having backups on standby ensures the show goes on. Portable active speakers are a great choice as they’re easy to set up and often have built-in amplification.

Digital Mixers and Signal ProcessorsFor professionals using digital mixers or signal processors, redundancy is crucial. Some high-end systems come with failover modes, but if yours doesn’t, having a secondary mixer can be a lifesaver. Ensure that both mixers are pre-configured to minimize downtime.

Wireless System AlternativesIf you’re using wireless microphones or in-ear monitors, interference or signal loss can be a headache. Always have wired alternatives ready. While they may limit mobility, they guarantee reliability when wireless systems falter.

Backup Planning: A Step-by-Step Guide

Creating a backup plan may sound overwhelming, but breaking it into steps makes it manageable. Here’s a simple framework:

Identify Critical Points Start by analyzing your sound system and identifying components that are most likely to fail. This could be your power source, mixer, or even software.

Prioritize Backup Needs Not everything needs a backup. Focus on the most critical parts first, such as power and audio sources. Expand as your budget allows.

Create a Backup Workflow Plan how backups will be implemented during a failure. For example, if your primary mixer fails, does your team know how to switch to the secondary one seamlessly? Practice this workflow to ensure everyone is confident during a real-life situation.

Test Regularly Backups are only useful if they work when needed. Schedule regular testing of your entire setup, including switching between primary and backup systems.

Invest in Quality Equipment Your backups should be just as reliable as your main setup. Professional audio shops are great places to find durable and high-quality equipment that can handle the rigors of live performances and events.

Portable vs. Permanent Backup Solutions

When choosing backup solutions, consider whether you need portability or a permanent setup:

Portable Solutions Ideal for on-the-go professionals, such as DJs or traveling bands. These include portable active speakers, compact mixers, and lightweight UPS units. Portability allows you to adapt to different venues and setups.

Permanent Solutions Perfect for fixed installations, like conference rooms or music studios. These setups may include rack-mounted power conditioners, built-in redundant amplifiers, and pre-wired backup sources for quick access.

Common Mistakes to Avoid

Relying Solely on Software While software-based failovers are convenient, they can be unreliable if the hardware itself crashes. Always have physical backups, like a second laptop or external hard drive.

Skipping Maintenance Regular maintenance is essential to ensure both your primary and backup systems are in good working order. Dust, wear and tear, or outdated firmware can compromise reliability.

Ignoring ScalabilityAs your needs grow, so should your backup plan. What works for a small gig might not suffice for a large-scale event.

Final Thoughts

A professional sound system is only as reliable as its weakest link. By planning and investing in a solid backup solution, you can ensure your performances and events run smoothly, no matter what challenges arise. It’s not just about having spare equipment; it’s about building a system that’s prepared for anything.

When assembling your backup setup, don’t cut corners. There are many reputable shops like VIP PRO AUDIO which can be an invaluable resource for finding equipment that meets your specific needs. The staff can guide you toward gear that’s dependable, durable, and tailored to your setup.

As someone who has already faced the heart-stopping moment of a system failure, I can tell you this: it’s always better to be over-prepared than underprepared. Your audience won’t notice your backups—they’ll only see a flawless performance. And that’s the goal, isn’t it?

[harryspet]

well kept [2] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, NONCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 4.5k

In which you officially enter into a world of high stakes and intense demands.

well kept masterlist

Your fingers traced the smooth edge of the new work bag that sat on your desk, a pristine luxury item whose brand you didn’t immediately recognize. It was medium-sized, big enough to fit your brand-new laptop, and an off-white color with pebble-textured leather. 

“Wow, you clean up nice,” came a voice from behind you. You turned to find Eleanor approaching, coffee in hand.

Instinctively, you pulled down your skirt as she looked you over. You were effortlessly polished, for sure. You usually only get your hair professionally done for special occasions, opting for simple protective styles you could do yourself. However, you had to admit you felt pretty with your hair in a neat, braided rose that reached down to your lower back. 

The clothes only amplified this unfamiliar sensation. After trying on eight outfits the previous night, you had settled on a cherry-red cropped blazer and a matching pleated skirt. You’d chosen the shortest heels Rafe had sent—a pair of white kitten heels adorned with gold bows. Your makeup, subtly applied, complemented the overall look.

Eleanor set her things down, straightened, and placed a hand on her slender hips. “Take your bag,” she said. “I’ll show you where Rafe expects you to work.”

“I thought that was my desk.”

“He’ll tell you where you need to be and when you need to be there.”

Her answer was simple enough. 

You entered the luxurious space that Rafe called an office once again. Even when he wasn’t in the room, you were intimidated by it, “He had this brought in for you,” Facing the wall on the side of the room that held Rafe’s desk, in the corner, was a simple mahogany desk. The miniature version of Rafe’s desk. A cushioned stool was placed underneath and on top were a notebook, a cup of pens, and a small lamp, “This is where he’ll expect you most mornings. You’re to review his calendar before he arrives, memorize it, and you’ll brief him on the day when he walks in.”

“I’m ssss-supposed to be in here with him …all day? What if I, you know, need you?”

“I’m right down the hallway, or you can email me.”

Eleanor spent the next thirty minutes showing you their emailing system and how to access Rafe’s calendar. She even shared a large cheat sheet she’d made with all of Rafe’s preferred restaurants, coffee shops, hotels, and the names and numbers of his home staff.

When she left you alone, you looked around the room. The view of the office from your corner was daunting. However, your heart had been beating too fast ever since you met Rafe. 

You turned your attention back to the calendar system. It was sleek and well-organized, and luckily, it was straightforward enough to navigate. You took note of his key meetings for the day and repeated them over in your head. You wrote down some notes in case your mind drew a blank. It was your first day, and he’d give you some grace, right? 

You needed to be able to anticipate these needs, but all you knew about Rafe Cameron was that he was complex and demanding. 

The sound of footsteps in the corridor drew your attention, and hurriedly, you glanced down at your note sheet again. Standing from your seat, you smoothed out your skirt, and with your notes in hand, you folded your palms in front of you. 

Unconsciously, as he pushed open the doors, you sucked air into your lungs. You held your breath until his eyes met with yours. In comparison to when you first met him, he was dressed down. He wore a short-sleeve black polo black dress pants, black leather penny loafers on his feet and a briefcase in hand. His face was stoic as he looked you over and let the doors close behind him. As big as they were, they were practically silent went they closed, adding to the ominous feeling in the room. 

You smiled, or tried to, “Good morning, Mr. Cameron, I’m–”

“I want you right here,” He interrupted, pointing down at the floor a foot before him. You stepped forward, hoping you wouldn’t trip like you had while practicing walking in them. Despite how he towered over you when you were this close, you made yourself comfortable there, “You’ll be right there every day when I walk in. Try again.”

“Good morning, Mr. Cameron-”

“I prefer Sir.”

Try again. Unfortunately, you were pretty used to being interrupted and forced to stop and start your sentences. “Good morning, Sir.” You were smiling as much as you could, but your throat hurt like your body wanted to cry. “Today, you’ll sss-start with three sss-separate online conferences with potential investors: Mr. Daniel, Mrs. Hunt, and Mr. Rivera. After lunch, you’ll have your weekly group meetings with department heads. You’ll start with Finance at one o’clock, Legal at two, and Design and Architecture at three. Your meeting with Property Management at four o’clock was canceled but rescheduled for Wednesday. For the rest of the day, you will be free to catch up with emails and ssss-submit the …. sss-ssss-strategic plan report you’ve been working on.”

He nodded once throughout your briefing, his face remaining impassive. You thought he might cringe at your mistakes, but he didn’t. You couldn’t help but feel like a strange choice for this job. Why would someone like him want to listen to you? 

“Good,” he confirmed, and you were relieved only for a moment. You were okay until he started to look you over, “Turn around.”

You weren’t sure why you looked in his eyes to see if he was being serious. Of course, he was being serious. Awkwardly, you face away from him until he adds, “In a circle, please.”

You felt your cheeks heat up from embarrassment before you faced him again. 

“I have a question,” You said.

“Yeah?”

“About the clothes. I …I didn’t know if it w-would be okay to return ssss-ssss-some of them. I just, there’s sss-so many.”

“And?” Rafe pressed, his brow furrowed. 

“I-I don’t have that much room for them.”

“Hmm,” He thought briefly, “How’s this? You take a picture of yourself in each outfit and then email them to me, and I’ll decide which ones I want you to wear. But everything red can stay. I like the red.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he brushed past you and returned to his desk. Unsure whether you were supposed to move or stay put, you waited in place. 

“I’ll take a coffee. Black. Thanks.”

Eager to escape the room and not feel the weight of his gaze, you hurried out of the doors. Panicked, you approached Eleanor’s desk, waving your hands to get her attention. She was on the phone, but you mouthed “Coffee.” Acting as your life vest, she pointed you toward one of the many doors that lined the wall across from the reception area. 

Inside, you expected to find a normal breakroom, but the room’s decoration reminded you more of a lounge. Black coffee should be easy enough, but your hands shook slightly as you worked the modern, sleek coffee maker. After you prepared the coffee, you took a breath, and made your way back to his office. You kept yourself as composed as possible, and he glanced up at you briefly as you entered. You set it carefully on the coaster near his computer. 

He didn’t directly look at you or the coffee; you took that as your sign to retreat to your desk. 

You sat quietly as he attended all three of his virtual meetings. Inevitably, you started to listen. Sometimes, you’d tune in, wanting to learn something, but you gave up a few times after realizing how complex things were. 

When he finished all his meetings, he spoke up, “What are the arrangements for lunch?” 

“Lunch …” You echoed, thinking about the calendar you recognize, “Is there sss-something sss-specific you’re in the mood for, sir?”

“On Mondays, I have lunch with my COO and CFO. We have standing reservations at several restaurants. You’ll need to pick one, call, and make sure everyone knows the plans.” 

“Okay,” You nodded, “Yes, sir.”

Was that on the cheat sheet? Had you missed that? After scrolling a few times, you will find the list of restaurants and senior team members. 

You called The Prime, an upscale steakhouse, for Rafe and his senior team, ensuring every detail was perfectly arranged. When it was time to leave, you stood to bid Rafe goodbye, only to be told you were expected to join him. Quickly gathering your things, you followed him down the elevator to the parking garage. Eleanor gave you an encouraging thumbs up and smile as you passed her.

You must’ve looked frightened. 

Rafe’s choice of vehicle, a massive black truck with gleaming rims and immaculate leather seat, wasn’t a surprise, but his courteous gesture was. He opened the door for you and gently placed a hand on your hip to steady you as you navigated the high step into the truck.

“Th-Thank you,” You spoke, your voice small before he closed the door. 

As you sat during the ride, you felt your thighs were too exposed. You crossed your legs, trying to alleviate that feeling, but it proved useless, “You’ll get used to it,” Rafe’s voice snapped you out of being consumed by your thoughts. You hadn’t realized he was even paying attention to you. 

Hesitantly, your eyes roamed over him. His shirt's short sleeves did little to conceal the strength in his arms and the defined lines of his chest. 

“You have a boyfriend?” He asked, his tone relaxed. He wasn’t allowed to ask that, but you recalled the words he had used with you the week prior. Would you fuck him? He’d already crossed a line. You needed to get used to his brashness, “A girlfriend?” He continued. 

“I-I-I,” Breathe in, slowly release, “I don’t.”

“Have you ever had one?”

The underlying implication of his words made you defensive, and you crossed your arms, “Have you, Sir?”

He let our a short laugh, “You just seem a little uptight,” Your lips parted and eyes widened.

“What-”

“I haven’t dated anyone seriously in a while. But you don’t need to date someone seriously to get what you need from them. I guess I’m just wondering if you have someone who . . . relieves your stress.”

“I really, really don’t want to answer that,” You spoke slowly. 

“Relax, we’re just talking. Is this going to be a problem? I’m just trying to get to know my newest employee.”

It felt like a mind game. He wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met before—every word, every glance from him seemed designed to put you on edge, to make you second-guess yourself. 

“No, sir,” You replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Are you a virgin, Y/N?” He asked suddenly as if he’d had some brilliant revelation.

“N-No,” You stuttered, lying through your teeth, “I’m not.”

He made a “hmm” sound as he glanced at you, “Of course you’re not. Forgive me; I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

You understood quickly he wasn’t actually looking for your forgiveness. He was testing you, pushing boundaries just to see how you’d react. 

When you arrived, Rafe pulled up to the valet stand, and a nicely dressed attendant quickly came over to open your door. You managed to step out with as much grace as you could muster, feeling the weight of Rafe’s eyes on you as you did. He was out of the truck in a heartbeat, striding around to join you, his hand again guiding you with that firm touch on your lower back. It was possessive, a silent declaration that you belonged to him, at least for the duration of this lunch.

The restaurant's setting was sophisticated and private, and you reached the table reserved for your group. The two of you were last to arrive, which meant all eyes fell on you as Rafe pulled out a chair for you right next to his seat. Two men were at the table, and you were taken aback by the fact that they were as young as Rafe. 

“Guys, this is Y/N,” Rafe gestured to you, making himself comfortable, “Y/N, meet Topper Thornton and Kelce Adams.”

You managed to speak to them, though your words stumbled slightly. They eyed you the same way Rafe often did, like prey. You could almost imagine your name listed on the menu in front of them. But Rafe, with a swift shift in conversation, cut off their questions, his tone a clear warning. When you took a bit too long to decide on your meal, Rafe didn’t hesitate. He ordered for you the moment the waiter arrived, a subtle reminder of the control he held over every aspect of your life, even what you ate.

You couldn’t help but notice that Topper shared Eleanor’s last name. Were they married? Siblings? The thought lingered as you made a mental note to ask her later. Without another word, you pulled out your notebook, ready to take notes for the meeting.

Something in his last meeting had angered him. When he returned to his office, you watched him cross the room; your mouth wanted to form the words to ask, “What’s wrong?” but your lips pressed into a thin line instead. 

As he settled in his desk, you pretended to be engrossed in your notes, hoping to avoid his attention. Ignoring the cold air in the room and the dark cloud hovering above him grew impossible. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and tapped at the surface of his desk. Was it anxiety he was feeling? 

“Come here, Y/N?”

Startled, you dropped your pen on the floor, the sound making him fully turn his head towards you. Awkwardly, you picked it up and set it down on your desk. You fixed your skirt as you crossed the distance between his desk and yours to keep it from riding up. 

“Yes, sss-sir?” 

His eyes were dark as he spun his chair to face you, “Tell me,” He began, “What do you think you did wrong today?”

Your mind raced. Did you do something wrong that you hadn’t realized? There were plenty of mistakes, but it was only your first day and you’d been completely thrown out of your comfort zone. 

“I’m not ssss-sssure, sss-sir,” Your voice was barely above a whisper, a grimace on your face as you tried to force out the words. 

“Not sure?” He echoed. 

“I should’ve know t-t-to …” You pushed through that “stuck” feeling, “Make your lunch reservations.”

“That’s one.”

“Uhm,” Your voice trailed off as your bottom lip shook. You felt like a child being scolded. Why did you keep freezing? Why did you let him speak to you that way? “I-I-I-I-I…”

“Does it hurt, you know, when it gets that bad?” Rafe leaned back in his chair, his arms folded against his chest, now looking at you with curiosity and frustration.

You shook your head because it was all you could manage.

“You can’t think of anything else, huh?”

“I’m sss-sss-sorry,” As a tear fell from your eye, he stood from his chair. 

He shushed you, grabbing ahold of the top of your arms, “You know I could have chose anyone for this job?”

You nodded. 

“But I chose you,” You nodded again, “I do love to see you apologize, sweetheart, but you have to know what you’re apologizing for.”

“I’m sss-sssory,” You couldn’t help the apology that tumbled out again, “Fff-for not knowing.”

“There you go, yeah, that’s better,” He pulled you closer, and you felt his hand brush the strands of your hair over your shoulder, keeping it from your face, “I told you this would be a mutually beneficial relationship. You need money, someone to care take care of you… I need ... I need you. When you’re with me, you’re mine to do with as I please. Do you understand?”

You nodded, feeling like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. He dominated the space, his presence suffocating, and the fear of displeasing him made your breath catch in your throat. The boundaries between you blurred even further, leaving you more trapped than ever.

“Good girl,” one of his hands wrapped around the side of your neck. His gaze pierced into yours, his mind racing behind them, and he sighed as he mentally concluded, “I can’t punish you just yet.”

“Punish?” You asked in a whisper, his face moving in closer. 

“You gotta learn somehow, right?”

Your eyes darted from his eyes to his lips, panicked. Nothing could have prepared you for him smashing his lips against yours. One hand was on your neck, and the other wrapped behind you, pulling you into him. Even as his kiss overwhelmed you, your mind couldn’t let go of the word he had just used—punish.

“I have to fuck you. I have to,” He growled between kisses. 

Your hands pushed at his chest, but it was like trying to move a brick wall, “Please, Rafe,” You tried to say. Part of you thought using his real name would snap him from his trance, but he groaned into your mouth. 

You’d never been kissed like this; no one had ever explored you with their tongue, and part of your mind seemed to rejoice. The other part, the rational one, told you to escape. You started to use your strength to pull from him as you stepped backward, but that only made him grip you harder. 

You yelped, and when Rafe opened his eyes again, he smiled. Whatever weighed heavy on his mind before had clearly been relieved by the game he was trying to play. You stumbled back when he let you go, almost falling on your behind, “Go on,” He said with a smirk, “Just makes it more fun for me.”

Of all the games, you liked this one the least. You turned to flee, but before you could reach the door, he lifted you off the ground. You screamed, and the next thing you knew, you were being thrown onto the couch. Rafe pinned you down easily, his weight crushing you as he reached for your legs. You shut your thighs tightly, and his glare felt like a knife in your side.

“Do not!” He exploded, and you whimpered, “Hey, hey, sweetheart, I don’t want you to ever close your legs to me.” 

“Rafe, please … please d-don’t,” Someone would hear. Eleanor would hear, wouldn’t she? She’d stop him before he went too far. 

“God, I’d beat your fucking ass if I didn’t need to be inside of you right now,” He growled, prying your legs apart and tearing away your underwear as soon as he could feel it. He wrapped one hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to keep you pinned down, while the other undid his belt. “You don’t make demands anymore, do you understand?”

“I’ve-I’ve nnn-never…”

Understanding flashed in his eyes. 

“You're a fucking virgin?” You nodded, feeling a small piece of hope, “We can add lying to that list of things you’ve done wrong, huh?”

He seemed to pause which you felt grateful for. His belt was already undone, his hips sinking into yours, “No one’s ever tasted you?” You shook your head, “You’ve never had a cock in your mouth either?”

You looked away, embarrassed. 

“Fuck,” He breathed out, “You’re gonna be all mine.” 

“Please-” You tried again, but he silenced you, pressing his lips to yours again. 

This time, he was more deliberate with his movements. His hands traveled higher, and he reached into your shirt to gently knead at your breasts. He moved slower like he was savoring the moment. At the same time, you felt even more tortured. Your body betrayed you, responding to his caresses as if they were safe, as if he were someone you trusted. He was making all the right moves and your mind felt even more confused then your body. 

Fingers pinched gently at your nipples and your lips parted into a moan. He used it as an opportunity to explore your mouth further. Next, he moved down your jaw and then he nuzzled his face into your neck. There was a place on your collarbone he’d found, one that made you yelp in pleasure, a spot you didn’t know existed. That’s what he wanted. To conquer you. 

You felt warm between your legs and a slickness as you tried to move your legs. Rafe was still taking his time. He’d lifted your shirt, pulled down your bra, and placed your left breast into his mouth. You cried out, your back arching in an automatic response. If he kept going, you knew you could finish just from this alone, and the thought filled you with a mix of shame and despair.

Slowly, methodically, he dismantled your guard. 

When he sensed you were ready, that he’d successfully turned your body on, he pulled down his briefs. You couldn’t bring yourself to look down. It was gonna hurt, either way, why dwell on the size? “Tell me,” He kissed your jaw, leaning down to your ear, “Ask me to take your virginity.”

You tensed, “I-I d-don’t.”

“I can make it hurt, Y/N,” He warned, “I promise, you want me to be gentle”

He pressed his tip against your entrance, and you were already cringing, “Fucking ask me, or I’ll push it all inside.”

“Will you …t-take my virginity?”

“Please,” he corrected, a dark satisfaction in his tone.“Where’s your manners?”

“Please, take mmm-my vvvv-vvvv-virginity,” He slowly started to enter you, and you pressed your hands against his chest. 

You started to breathe heavily, “T-T-Too mmm-mmm-much.”

He pushed in more, “That’s just half, sweetheart. Take a deeper breath for me."

You listened even though he was hurting you. Even now, you believed him to be better than you. Looking up at him, you slowly breathed in and out. As you controlled your breathing, he started to move in and out of you. He cursed and grunted into your ear, soon falling into a rhythm. 

Pain began to blur with something else, something you didn’t want to acknowledge. 

It was a foreign feeling, being full of him, reaching to parts of you that had never been discovered. The only thing that felt wrong to you was how it was happening. Is this how it always felt? So completely all consuming? You were warm everywhere, a pressure building at your core, and you struggled to make a sound other than a moan. 

With each thrust you let out a yip, not realizing that you’d stopped pushing at his chest and started pawing at it. That only encouraged him further. He reached underneath you, lifting your left leg to your chest, as he grabbed a handful of your ass. He pried you open further in this position and he looked down at you …almost grateful. He was savoring you and every moment that he was touching you, infiltrating your body. You’d never had someone want you like this. 

Before you were even really aware of it, the pressure inside of you had built to a crescendo, and you’d cried out against Rafe’s lips. 

He smiled against yours, “Good girl, sweetheart,” Tears escaped your eyes again, this time because of how confused your hormones were. It felt like an uncontrolled explosion of emotion. 

Now, the sensation actually felt like something you couldn’t physically handle, “Oh my god, o-oh my god, ” You spoke over and over as you went back to pushing at his chest. 

“Stay,” he commanded, his body pressing you down further as he slowed his movements, his rhythm faltering. “I’m almost done,” he added, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You’re squeezing so tight.”

“Please,” you begged, your legs starting to shake. “Please, Rafe.”

Your words seemed to bring his climax. Your second orgasm came painfully, and you scrambled to free yourself from under his weight after he finished sinking into you. Your legs didn’t stop shaking, but at least you could catch your breath. 

Your bare bottom hit the plush carpet of his seating area, listening as Rafe’s heavy breathing slowed. You fixed your bra and top before you started to search for your underwear. To your dismay, they were completely torn. 

“I’ll get you some new ones, some nicer ones, yeah?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure why. Feeling his gaze, you pushed your skirt down next. Looking down, you realize his remnants were sliding down your thighs. You just shut your legs tighter. A hand on your back made you glance up at him. His eyes were still dark, but there was more satisfaction than before. 

“We’re done for today, but before you leave, uh, Eleanor needs to see you.” 

He stood, and you looked away as he started to zip up his pants and fasten his belt again. 

“Th-That’s it?”

“Until tomorrow,” He said, his tone returned to business, as if the last few minutes were merely part of the workday.

You thought he was returning to his desk, but Rafe walked to your desk and collected your purse and computer. As you stood, your body ached, and you realized how disheveled you must look. Was your makeup smudged across your face? Did he bruise the back of your thighs? 

Rafe brought you your things, his hands finding your lower back, “Go home. Get some rest. And don’t forget about those pictures, yeah?”

You nodded although your mind was elsewhere. The next thing you knew, you were standing on the other side of the door, clutching your bag tightly to your chest. Your mind started to wonder what exactly had caused all this. Was he mad at you, or was that I an excuse to …ruin you. 

When you made it to Eleanor’s desk she asked you, “How was your first day?”

You nodded, trying to shake your expression into a smile, “I-It was … o-okay.”

There was no way she could have missed it in your eyes or in your appearance, but she continued, “I just need you to sign that NDA before you go. It’s completely standard procedure. It just assures that everything you see and hear is confidential. Protects the business.”

You took the papers from her and you tried to keep from shaking, “I can explain anything you need-”

“That’s okay,” You shook your head, knowing you just wanted to go home and hug your stuffed frog, “Thank you.”

You flipped through it quickly and signed your name where she indicated, “There’s one more thing. Are you on birth control?”

You stared, knowing the implication of the words. Why didn’t she warn you before you agreed to this?

You shook your head.

“You’ll need a Plan B. Should I pick it up for you, or would you prefer to do it yourself?”

Of course, you’d had friends who’d bought it before but the idea of going by yourself right now made you want to be sick. And you couldn’t tell your friends … at least not yet, “Could you … g-get it?”

“Of course, I’ll have it tomorrow,” She nodded and offered you a polite smile, “Do you need any help getting to the parking deck?”

You shook your head quickly, “I www-walked, thank you.”

As you made your way to the elevator, you wondered how your day spiraled so entirely out of your control.

Please reblog WITH your thoughts on the chapter to be added to the taglist for the story :) Also pls feel free to send me anons about your predictions/what you'd like to see in the story!

[anyab]

Via NasAlSudan

Sudan Action Week, from December 17th to December 24th, is dedicated to fostering awareness and understanding of the War in Sudan while harnessing our collective power to move to action. Join us in this impactful week as we educate, unite, and mobilize for Sudan.

Transcript:

Sudan Action Week

#keepEyesOnSudan

17 Dec. What is happening in Sudan

Learn about the war in Sudan, its origins, and the key players involved.

18 Dec. Centering Dafur

Learn about the ongoing situation in Darfur, understanding both current events and the historical context spanning decades.

19 Dec. Sudanese Revolution

Delve into Sudanese resilience and the significance of December 19 for the Sudanese community.

20 Dec. Contact your representatives

Discover various ways to contact your representatives and advocate for addressing the war in Sudan.

21 Dec. Centering Sudanese voices

Debunking hashtags and identifying the appropriate news sources on social media and online.

22 Dec. Day of donation

Amplify and learn about fundraisers supporting Sudanese people currently on the ground in Sudan.

23 Dec. Support Sudani Businesses

Explore wayst to support Sudanese  businesses, whether through online orders or in-store shopping.

24 Dec. Honoring our martyrs

Reflect on and pay tribute to those who have lost their lives in the conflict.

End Transcript

[theglowsociety]

Why Supporting Black-Owned Businesses in February (and Beyond) Matters

February is Black History Month—a time to honor Black culture, resilience, and achievements. But while most people recognize this designated time of celebration, it doesn’t dismiss the fact that we are Black 365 days a year. Our history and heritage don’t begin on February 1st and end on February 29th. We are the living, breathing manifestations of our ancestors’ dreams, and every day is an opportunity to uplift, support, and build upon the legacy they fought for. One of the most powerful ways to do that? Investing in Black-owned businesses.

Shopping Black-owned isn’t just about economics—it’s about empowerment, equity, and making a direct impact on our communities. When we prioritize Black businesses, we create generational wealth, amplify Black voices, and ensure that our culture thrives in every industry. Here’s why it matters:

1. Circulating Wealth in the Black Community

Did you know that the average dollar circulates in the Black community for only six hours before leaving? Compared to other communities, where money is reinvested locally for days or even weeks, this statistic highlights a major economic gap. When we intentionally support Black-owned businesses, we ensure that our money stays within our community, fostering job creation, homeownership, and financial stability. This isn’t just about individual success—it’s about uplifting entire neighborhoods.

2. Closing the Racial Wealth Gap

For centuries, systemic barriers—such as redlining, discrimination in banking, and limited access to business funding—have prevented Black entrepreneurs from building the same level of generational wealth as others. By choosing to shop Black-owned, we actively work to close this gap, ensuring that Black business owners have the resources they need to thrive and pass down wealth to future generations.

3. Honoring Our Ancestors’ Legacy Through Economic Power

Our ancestors fought for freedom, equality, and the right to build prosperous lives for future generations. Owning and supporting Black businesses is one of the strongest ways to honor their sacrifices. Imagine what they could have built if they had access to the opportunities we do now. When we invest in Black businesses, we are fulfilling their vision of self-sufficiency, success, and economic independence.

4. Strengthening Local Communities

Many Black-owned businesses are deeply rooted in their communities. They hire locally, mentor young entrepreneurs, and provide essential services to underserved areas. When we support these businesses, we don’t just help one entrepreneur—we help entire families, neighborhoods, and cities flourish.

5. Encouraging Sustainable Business Growth

The Black business community is filled with innovative, groundbreaking entrepreneurs who bring fresh perspectives to every industry. But without consistent support, these businesses often struggle to survive. When we make shopping Black-owned a long-term habit—not just a trend in February—we create sustainable demand, allowing these businesses to expand, create more jobs, and increase their impact.

6. Diversifying the Marketplace

Representation in business matters. When Black entrepreneurs thrive, they introduce products and services that cater to our culture, needs, and experiences—things often overlooked by mainstream corporations. Supporting Black-owned brands ensures that our voices are heard, our creativity is valued, and our influence is undeniable in every market.

7. Making a Statement with Our Dollars

Every dollar we spend is a vote for the kind of world we want to live in. Choosing Black-owned businesses is a way to demonstrate solidarity, support economic justice, and create real change in how wealth is distributed. Our spending power is massive—trillions of dollars strong—so let’s use it with intention.

How to Support Black-Owned Businesses Beyond February

• Shop Intentionally – Research Black-owned brands, businesses, and services in your area and online.

• Spread the Word – A simple shoutout or recommendation on social media can bring a Black business new customers.

• Invest Beyond the Holidays – Make it a lifestyle, not just a seasonal act. Support Black businesses year-round.

• Leave Reviews & Feedback – Positive reviews help small businesses gain credibility and attract more customers.

• Attend Black Business Markets & Events – Show up, engage, and contribute to the growth of Black entrepreneurs.

• Mentor & Support Aspiring Black Entrepreneurs – Share resources, offer guidance, and help build the next generation of Black business leaders.

It’s a Movement, Not a Moment

February is a powerful reminder to celebrate Black excellence, but our commitment to supporting each other shouldn’t stop when the month ends. We are Black every day, and we carry the dreams of our ancestors in everything we do. Shopping Black-owned is just one of many ways to live out their legacy and build a future where Black success isn’t the exception—it’s the standard. Let’s make supporting Black businesses not just an annual tradition, but a lifelong commitment to community, growth, and generational wealth.

[eatmangoesnekkid]

I don’t live my life thinking a lot about money, trying to ‘get’ more money, or not having enough money yet I am not motivated by money either. The act of receiving more money does not make me rush to hurry up and finalize my books or open up my school. I can’t remember the last time I worried about money because having money is an intimate frequency and energy of FREEDOM. You have to break the frequencies of constantly penny-pinching, being stingy, allowing how much money you have in the bank to dictate your mood or living afraid to buy the very things that you need that will expand or evolve you, which is not the same thing as shopping all the time as a coping mechanism for being human, incurring consumer debt or being irresponsible and reckless with your money. And your life force will never thrive when you are a slave or prisoner to money.

The Practical and Spiritual Journey to Making More Money —You Must Enlist Your Warrior and Your Energy

You have to look at earning money like a game and enjoy growing your money and playing the game or else you never win. Not just saving or hoarding it away in your bra but allowing your money to work for you while you sleep like putting it in stocks. I have a degree in Accounting and have always believed that women were born to be skilled in financials but we are socialized to perceive ourselves not. But when you were born with a womb, you are naturally gifted at multiplying a seed into something much larger and intelligent like a whole baby. You are a natural amplifier, nourishing and growing what has been received. Be willing to look into investments and not be afraid of accumulating “healthy debt” and learn to move your money around in order to grow it. Look to investing part of your earnings into different funds, even if it is just cutting back on buying coffee and putting that money you would have paid for a daily coffee into a savings that will accrue and be used to invest in the future. If you already have cash flow, getting rental property to airbnb or sell (everyone I know that is quietly wealth-oriented owns at least 2-3 homes) which can be overwhelming to think about when living pay check-to-pay check but just beginning to think about how you can earn more money from your own money passively gets the ball rolling in your consciousness like what would it be like to open up a laundry mat, build it up and sell it in a few years for huge profit? Laundry mat ownership is such a fast lucrative business, just like what you see in the hood in movies. Or buy a raggedy house, build it up and sell it for a higher cost and incredible profit. Some of you straight and bi women entrepreneurs who are ready for good lovers must find love and attraction with lovers who are builders and handymen and can help to upscale and modernize your home that you can then resale for great profit and stop messing with dusties who have zero skill sets and create more stress on your life. 🙏🏿 Because when you live a highly stressful, parasympathetic, flight or fight life, the first thing you lose is your sexual desire or libido i.e. your umlimited creative power. No thank you!

If you have a spiritual business like me, you can do deals underneath the table but also work towards a LLC to legitimize your company which gives you tax breaks and allows you to earn more money. Something about going through the channels to make something official moves it from just being a hobby to a legit business. As magical spiritual woman, your power move is to attract someone willing to invest in your work as a start-up. If you do, you must cherish this person, love this person with all your heart, hips and soul (if the relationship is romantic but of course it can also be platonic or familial, either way, love this person), adore them deep and true. The person, this angelic being, this God, is saving you massive stress and headache. Their presence in your life serves a larger purpose —you must help them to understand this because our world teaches us to be so fearful and suspicious of being helped or helping someone rather than gracious and honored. Too many people are missing out on great blessings of interdependence because they live afraid and suspicious of the big heart of another human. So sad that many amazing beautiful people are stuck in their little corners hoarding away and missing out on healing, thriving, and experiencing the gifts and/or talents of another human because of how we have been wired to perceive the desire to meet one another’s needs and desires by status quo culture. To be a woman who can love someone in ways that relax their body so deeply that they can finally get out of their head and rest well and regenerate their tissues at night is incredibly priceless.

**This is not the same thing as looking for a handout, walking around broken like the world owes you something or hoping someone will help because you tell a victimization story. It is about being mature and resourceful and consciously manifesting what is needed and not simply what would be cool or cute potentially through love and loving.

But not every woman is ready or qualified for the aforementioned experience because you do have to develop skills that will be greatly useful, nourishing, nurturing, decompressing, relaxing or expansive or beneficial in other ways to another person. You can’t just be attractive or whatever. You have to be a woman who has developed a certain ease and peace in her body and life first and and that is what joining my school and online temple will help you master. And I personally believe you must also really love someone if the harmony is right because 1. love is incredible and healthy for the body to experience for however long it lasts 2. love is essential for the brightest sustained outcome. I’m not talking about the “sprinkle, sprinkle“ foolishness being promoted online. I am advocating for more love between people and all that comes with truly loving someone.

Be so skillful in your mature womanhood that you don't run from challenges, but face and engage them head on, and refine, recalibrate, and evolve beyond them. Never lose the boundaries that you are running a business albeit a spiritual one but still a business. Stay devoted and disciplined, both are essential. Work towards hiring people who can help you scale and grow eventually.

The Spiritual Journey to Making More Money—You Must Invoke Your Lover

The key to having more money is to learn to surrender and trust and truly allow the universe to be your provider, which is not an intellectual idea but a frequency of feminine energy. This is less about gender and more about the willingness to live a little bit beyond the egoic surface layer of reality of urgency that tells you to hurry and produce, to hoard or take or trigger you to constantly need to check off a to-do list, always needing to plan or to cross your t’s and dot your i’s which will allow you to buy that nice house and cute car eventually, but could greatly inhibit your energy from flowing where you never really can feel the joy of a simple moment pulse up your spine because you live in stress and overwork for external things that never make you fully truly happy.

No matter what stage of life you are, the undercurrent of your reality must feel like more relaxation and freedom if you want to have more money but not exhaust yourself in rigorous pursuit and constant labor for it.

I had to learn to draw in the frequency of freedom—to laugh at myself, to play, to rest, to relax, to do silly shit like twirling throughout my day —when life was very stressful, drama was high, and money was low. Neighbors would see me twirling. I would sometimes twirl for customers whose shopping totals were over 200 dollars. Because changing frequencies or weaving new realities is most potent when life is hard. You have to discover strategic ways to do the things you really want to do in life but was told you couldn’t afford. You must also have this hunger and desire to play the game of life to win while laughing at yourself along the way as you refine more and more and develop intimacy with the currencies of relaxation, love and freedom, which naturally include having more money.

But do not just copy and paste and take from others. Give. —India Ame’ye

Keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry, the philosophy which does not laugh and the greatness which does not bow before children.

Kahlil Gibran, Mirrors of the Soul

Chapter: The Money Drop (unedited)

[ghcstao3]

for a large part of his life, ghost had a fear of snakes. with his father’s abuse planting that seed in childhood and roba only amplifying it through his torture, it isn’t much of a surprise at all.

but ghost… can’t stand for that. he doesn’t want this fear to have any power, because it means his father and roba still have a hold over him, even with the both of them long since dead. so ghost starts exposing himself to snakes, bit by bit. it isn’t the creature’s fault that he’s afraid of them, so he can at least try to do something about it.

and over time, with lots of therapy to pair with that exposure—ghost actually ends up falling in love with these creatures. they become his favourite animal in getting over his fear.

now—imagine snake shifter soap. a king cobra, large, powerful, venomous. he keeps his shifter form a secret because he doesn’t want people to be unnecessarily afraid of him; they have no reason to be, unless they give him one. only price and laswell know at this point.

then he catches word of ghost and his affinity. he’s already trusting with the lieutenant, more so than he should probably be, but he is. so there isn’t much thought behind revealing himself to ghost.

ghost is the first person to not show any sign of fear at soap’s shifted form. he instead just sits with this beast of a snake, trailing gloved fingers along the smooth pattern of soap’s scales. soap has never seen his lieutenant so… mesmerized. like a kid in a candy shop.

when soap shifts back, ghost asks a few questions, seemingly subconsciously rattling off a few facts about soap’s species that, honestly, some of which soap himself had no idea about.

some of which actually make soap deadlier in the field.

that little bonding moment propels their friendship forward, though it very well would have gotten to that point without soap’s shifter status. the process is just… sped up a little.

though, the snake shifter part does come with it’s benefits for ghost. when he’s already got a reputation and totes a skull mask around, it just makes him ten times more terrifying when he’s seen walking around base with a king cobra curled around his frame.

[nowimjustastranger]

How would things have gone if Watchdog's Stan hadn't died? It couldnt have gone completely the same as canon since Ford has those axolotl powers right?

Considering that The Axolotl is all about balance and he gave Watchdog Ford premonition (which Watchdog Ford amplified to prescience later on in life) at conception, it only makes sense that Stan was also gifted an complementary ability.

Of course, Watchdog Ford is completely unaware of this.

While Watchdog Ford looks into the future, Stan can see into the past with psychometry, which is the ability to gain information about an object's history or the person it belonged to simply by making physical contact with it.

Stan's ability manifested before Ford's due to the abuse he suffered and it was unpredictable, so he was dragged into visions at random. He had no idea what was happening to him and ignored it out of fear of being locked up in a psych ward if he spoke about it. So he never learned any amount of control, which was another thing that factored into him taking his own life at nineteen.

However, if Stan hadn't committed suicide, Ford wouldn't have become as close to Fiddleford. The two would've went their separate ways after graduating, Fiddleford marrying Emma Mae and having Tate like in canon.

The major change would be that Ford actually asked his mom for Stan's phone number because of the dreams he'd been having of Stan dying for the past week and a half. And the moment Stan picked up, Ford would awkwardly try to start a conversation only for Stan to burst into tears.

Basically, they would've been reunited at the tender age of nineteen.

Stan would confess everything, from the abuse to the sexual assault. He'd also apologize for breaking Ford's project, begging Ford to believe that he didn't do it on purpose. He'd just be a complete mess, clinging to the phone like a lifeline. Because if Ford hated him, if Ford hung up, he would find the nearest bridge and step off of it.

Stan would end up making the trip to Backupsmore to crash in Ford and Fiddleford's dorm for a few days while Ford scrounged together enough money to rent an apartment near campus for them to stay in. They'd end up moving to Gravity Falls together at 23 years old so Ford can study the anomalies there, though he's not as obsessed as most of his other variants.

It's more of a hobby that he made a career out of because he couldn't go to West Coast Tech for advanced engineering.

The most interesting part of lore is that Dimension 419"3 is actually untouched by Bill Cipher, so Ford would never summon him since there would be no trace of him. That's not to say that they aren't plenty preoccupied with their own abilities growing stronger the longer they're in Gravity Falls.

Stan eventually comes clean to Ford about the visions, leading to Ford telling Stan about his dreams that come true. Ford becoming obsessed with learning everything there is to know about their respective abilities, shifting his focus from the anomalies to studying themselves.

Ford would use tarot cards to channel his abilities while he was awake while Stan took to wearing gloves to avoid being assaulted with visions because once Ford opened his third eye during an experiment, there was no safe way to close it again.

Instead of the tourist trap, Stan would open a psychic shop after convincing Ford to do tarot readings (focusing specifically on the future for obvious reasons) to help pay the bills, though Stan would still sell overpriced trinkets as souvenirs.

Stan himself would use his abilities to find things or people for free at first, eventually gaining enough notoriety among the townspeople and tourists to be approached by local (and sometimes not local) authorities and help them out with cases for a modest fee.

They'd be well-loved in Gravity Falls, with plenty of clients.

They'd both retire at fifty years old with the money that they saved up and go sailing during the summer, living in Gravity Falls for the rest of the year. They'd still take the occasional client (mostly close friends like Soos and Wendy), but otherwise they'd just live out the rest of their days together. It would be a content life and they'd both be happy.

[obsidian-pages777]

Hecate Asteroid In the Birth Chart

Introduction

In astrology, Hecate is often associated with the asteroid 100 Hecate. She is a symbol of mystery, magic, intuition, crossroads, and transformation. Her placement in each astrological house can reveal how these themes manifest in your life.

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Here's a general interpretation of Hecate in each house:

1st House (House of Self):

Themes: Personal identity, appearance, and how you present yourself to the world.

Hecate's Influence: You exude an air of mystery and power, often seen as enigmatic or intuitive. You may possess a natural ability to navigate crossroads in life and reinvent yourself.

2nd House (House of Resources):

Themes: Finances, values, and personal possessions.

Hecate's Influence: Your financial decisions may be guided by intuition or spiritual insights. You value esoteric knowledge and are likely to view material wealth as a tool for transformation.

3rd House (House of Communication):

Themes: Communication, learning, and local environment.

Hecate's Influence: Your words carry a deep, transformative power. You may have a talent for exploring hidden truths and teaching others how to navigate life’s crossroads.

4th House (House of Home and Family):

Themes: Home life, roots, and emotional security.

Hecate's Influence: Your connection to ancestral wisdom is strong. You might feel a sense of responsibility to carry forward your family’s hidden or mystical traditions.

5th House (House of Creativity):

Themes: Creativity, romance, and self-expression.

Hecate's Influence: You express your creativity through mystical or occult themes. Romantic relationships could bring transformative experiences, and you inspire others to embrace their shadow side.

6th House (House of Work and Health):

Themes: Daily routines, work environment, and physical health.

Hecate's Influence: You may have a healing touch or work in areas involving transformation and intuition. Your health and habits may be deeply connected to your spiritual practices.

7th House (House of Partnerships):

Themes: Relationships and collaborations.

Hecate's Influence: Partnerships often bring pivotal transformation. You attract enigmatic or mystical individuals and may be a guide for others during major life changes.

8th House (House of Transformation):

Themes: Shared resources, intimacy, and rebirth.

Hecate's Influence: A natural alignment, amplifying your ability to delve into the mysteries of life, death, and rebirth. You may have an affinity for magic, shadow work, or uncovering hidden truths.

9th House (House of Philosophy):

Themes: Higher learning, beliefs, and travel.

Hecate's Influence: You seek mystical wisdom in your philosophical and spiritual pursuits. Foreign places or higher education might play a role in your transformation or magical practices.

10th House (House of Career):

Themes: Career, public image, and legacy.

Hecate's Influence: Your public persona may involve mystical or transformative work. You could be seen as a guide or leader in occult or spiritual matters. You have intense spiritual powers.

11th House (House of Community):

Themes: Friendships, groups, and future goals.

Hecate's Influence: You connect with communities that value spiritual growth and transformation. Your role often involves guiding others through collective or personal change.

12th House (House of Subconscious):

Themes: Mysteries, hidden realms, and spirituality.

Hecate's Influence: Profoundly intuitive and connected to otherworldly realms, you excel in shadow work, spiritual guidance, and uncovering hidden wisdom. You may have a strong connection to the dream world.

[fr0stf4ll]

Forge of Starlight - Part 11

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 5k

warning; grief, mention of death, smut.

notes; Enjoy this chapter ;))

here is the link for part 10 or part 12

---

The walk back from the grove was slow, each step heavy with the lingering weight of your grief. The snow continued to fall gently around you, muffling the sounds of the world and casting a soft, white blanket over the city. By the time you reached the shop, the sun had set, leaving the streets of Velaris bathed in the soft glow of lanterns.

As you stood in front of the door to your apartment, you hesitated, your hand resting on the cold, wooden handle. The memories of Alex, of the life you had shared with him in this space, flooded your mind, and for a moment, you considered turning back, retreating to the safety of the past.

But something inside you shifted—a small, but powerful determination that had been sparked during your time at the grave. You knew Alex wouldn’t want you to remain trapped in the past, drowning in sorrow. He would want you to move forward, to live, to find a way to heal.

With a deep breath, you pushed open the door and stepped inside. The apartment was quiet, almost eerily so. The stillness of the space pressed in on you, amplifying the emptiness that had settled there since Alex’s death. The air was thick with the scent of dust and old memories, a lingering reminder of everything that had been lost.

But as you stood in the doorway, taking in the state of the apartment, something else began to stir within you—a resolve to reclaim this space, to cleanse it of the pain and grief that had taken root here. You had lost so much, but this was still your home, and it was time to make it a place of peace once more.

You pulled off your coat and hung it by the door, rolling up the sleeves of your shirt as you began to move through the apartment, your steps purposeful and deliberate. The first thing you did was open every window, letting the cold, crisp air flood the rooms, chasing away the stale scent of grief. The fresh air was a shock to your system, invigorating, as if it were cleansing not just the space but your soul as well.

You started with the living room, your hands moving with a determined energy as you cleared away the clutter that had accumulated over the past weeks. Every item you touched brought with it a memory—a book Alex had been reading, a blanket he had curled up under, the small toys and trinkets he had collected. Each one was a reminder of the life that had once filled this space, but instead of letting the memories drag you down, you carefully sorted through them, deciding which to keep and which to let go.

The things you chose to keep, you set aside gently, reverently, knowing they would be cherished keepsakes of the boy who had meant so much to you. The rest, you carefully packed away, not out of a desire to forget, but out of a need to move forward, to create a new chapter in your life.

Next, you moved to the kitchen, scrubbing down every surface, every corner, until the space gleamed with a cleanliness that felt like a fresh start. You found yourself humming softly as you worked, a melody that Alex had once loved, and though it brought tears to your eyes, it also brought a sense of comfort, as if he were still with you in some small way.

The bedroom was the hardest. Alex’s bed, still unmade from the last time you had slept in it, stood as a painful reminder of his absence. You stood there for a long time, staring at the small, rumpled sheets, your heart aching with the loss. But then, with a deep breath, you gently stripped the bed, folding the blankets and tucking them away with the other keepsakes.

You remade the bed with fresh sheets, smoothing the fabric with careful hands, and as you did, you whispered a quiet goodbye, feeling a sense of closure begin to settle over you. It wasn’t the end of your grief—far from it—but it was a step, a small, but significant step toward healing.

As you continued to clean, you felt the weight on your chest begin to lift, the act of reclaiming your space becoming a cathartic release. The apartment, once filled with the echoes of sorrow, began to feel lighter, more like a home again. The process was slow, and there were moments when the memories threatened to overwhelm you, but you pushed through, driven by the desire to create a space where you could begin to heal.

By the time you finished, the apartment was transformed. The air was fresh, the rooms were clean, and though the memories of Alex were still present, they no longer felt like a burden. Instead, they were a part of the space, a part of you, but no longer held the power to drown you in grief.

You stood in the center of the living room, taking in the quiet peace that had settled over the apartment. For the first time in weeks, you felt a sense of calm, a sense of control over your life. You had taken the first step, and though the road ahead was still long and uncertain, you knew that you had the strength to keep going.

As you moved to close the windows, the cold night air brushed against your skin, and you paused, leaning out slightly to take in the view of Velaris under the soft glow of the stars. The city was quiet, peaceful, and as you gazed out at the familiar streets, you felt a small spark of hope begin to take root in your heart.

You had lost so much, but you had also gained a new family in the Inner Circle, people who cared for you, who would stand by you as you navigated this difficult path. And then there was Azriel—the bond that connected you to him was still new, still raw, but it was there, a lifeline that had kept you from sinking completely into the darkness.

With one last deep breath, you closed the window and turned back to the room, feeling a sense of resolve settle over you. This was the beginning of a new chapter, a new journey toward healing. And though the road ahead would be difficult, you knew that you weren’t alone.

You would keep moving forward, one step at a time. For Alex. For yourself. And for the future that was still waiting for you.

After the apartment was finally cleaned and organized, you felt the exhaustion settle into your bones. The emotional and physical toll of the day had left you drained, and you knew you needed to take care of yourself, to find some small comfort in the midst of everything.

You made your way to your bedroom, where the soft light of the moon filtered in through the freshly cleaned windows, casting a gentle glow over the space. The room, now neat and orderly, felt like a sanctuary, a place where you could retreat and begin to mend the wounds that still bled inside you.

With a sigh, you moved toward the bathroom, deciding that a warm bath might help ease some of the tension that had built up in your muscles. The idea of soaking in hot water, letting the heat melt away the stress of the day, was appealing, and you found yourself looking forward to the brief escape it would provide.

You turned on the taps, watching as steam began to rise from the water, filling the room with a soothing warmth. The scent of lavender, from a small vial of bath oil that Alex had once picked out for you, filled the air, bringing with it a wave of bittersweet memories. But instead of turning away from them, you allowed yourself to remember, to cherish the small moments of joy that had been shared.

As the tub filled, you slowly undressed, the cool air of the room brushing against your skin as you shed the layers that had been weighing you down all day. When the bath was ready, you slipped into the water, letting out a sigh as the warmth enveloped you, soothing your aching muscles and easing the tightness in your chest.

You leaned back against the edge of the tub, closing your eyes as the heat seeped into your bones. For a while, you simply let yourself float in the quiet, letting your mind drift as you soaked in the calming warmth.

But as the minutes passed, your thoughts inevitably began to turn to Azriel. The shadowy, enigmatic male who had been your constant companion for the past few weeks, who had stood by you even when you had pushed everyone else away. The memory of his gentle kiss on your forehead earlier that day lingered, a soft warmth that contrasted with the cold emptiness that had settled in your heart.

Azriel had been there for you in ways that no one else had. He had seen you at your worst, held you when you thought you might break, and offered you the quiet strength you needed to keep going. He had never pressured you, never demanded anything of you—he had simply been there, a steady presence in a world that had been turned upside down.

You opened your eyes, staring up at the ceiling as the memories of the past weeks played out in your mind. Azriel had been the one to find you after Alex’s death, the one who had carried you through the darkness when you couldn’t find your own way. He had stayed with you, even when you had asked for space, always hovering on the edges, ready to offer support if you needed it.

And you had needed it. More than you had realized.

The bond between you, though still new and raw, had grown stronger with each passing day. You could feel it now, a faint, comforting presence at the back of your mind, like a soft whisper that reminded you that you weren’t alone. It was a connection that had become a lifeline, a source of comfort that you hadn’t expected, but one that you were beginning to rely on.

As you soaked in the warmth of the bath, your thoughts drifted back to the moments you had shared with Azriel—the quiet conversations, the way he had looked at you with such care and understanding, the way his touch had grounded you when you felt like you might be swept away by grief.

You realized, with a start, that you had begun to look forward to his visits, to the sound of his voice, to the comfort of his presence. Even now, as you lay in the bath, you found yourself thinking of him, wondering when he would come to see you, when you would feel that quiet connection once more.

A small, tentative smile tugged at the corners of your lips, the first smile you had felt in what seemed like an eternity. It was a fragile thing, easily broken, but it was there, a sign that maybe, just maybe, you were beginning to heal.

You let out a soft sigh, your hand trailing through the water as you closed your eyes again, letting your thoughts drift back to Azriel. There was still so much to figure out, so much that was uncertain, but for the first time in weeks, you felt a small spark of hope. Maybe there was a way forward, a way to find happiness again, even in the midst of all the loss and pain.

And maybe, just maybe, that way forward included Azriel. The thought was both comforting and terrifying, but as you lay there, surrounded by the warmth of the bath and the scent of lavender, you allowed yourself to hold onto it, to let it settle into your heart alongside the grief.

You weren’t sure what the future held, but you knew one thing: you didn’t have to face it alone. Not anymore.

And for now, that was enough.

The warmth of the bath had left your skin flushed and your mind slightly clearer, though the lingering grief still weighed heavy on your heart. You had just wrapped yourself in a soft robe, your hair still damp and clinging to your neck, when a soft knock echoed through the apartment.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart skipping a beat as you recognized the familiar presence on the other side of the door. Taking a deep breath, you moved to open it, finding Azriel standing there, his expression as unreadable as ever, though there was a hint of concern in his eyes.

“Azriel,” you greeted softly, stepping aside to let him in. 

He entered slowly, his gaze sweeping over the apartment. His eyes widened slightly in surprise as he took in the transformation. The clutter and dust were gone, replaced by a sense of order and calm that hadn’t been there for weeks. The faint scent of lavender still hung in the air, mixing with the cold freshness of the night.

"You cleaned," he remarked, his tone gentle as he looked back at you.

You nodded, pulling the robe a little tighter around you. "I needed to. It was time."

Azriel’s gaze softened as he took in your appearance, noticing the dampness of your hair and the way your skin still glowed from the warmth of the bath. There was something tender in his eyes as he observed you, as if he could see the small steps you were taking toward healing.

“I brought food,” he said, holding up a bag from one of the nearby restaurants. “I thought you might be hungry.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, the gesture almost feeling foreign after weeks of sorrow. “You didn’t have to. I could’ve cooked something.”

Azriel shook his head quickly, his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t need to cook for me, Y/N. I’m fine. Let me take care of this.”

His words were so earnest, so filled with care, that you couldn’t help but nod in agreement. “Okay, okay, no problem. Thank you.”

The two of you moved to the couch, settling in with the food Azriel had brought. The apartment was quiet, the only sounds the occasional clinking of cutlery and the muffled noises of the city outside. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable; instead, it felt like a shared understanding, a space where words weren’t always necessary.

As you ate, you found yourself stealing glances at Azriel, noticing the way his presence brought a sense of peace to the room. He had been a constant in your life these past weeks, always there when you needed him, never pushing, never demanding. Just… there.

After a while, you put down your fork and turned to him, your voice soft but filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Azriel. For everything. For staying by my side when I wasn’t sure I could keep going.”

Azriel looked at you, his expression gentle, his shadows curling lightly around his shoulders as if they, too, were reaching out to you. “You don’t need to thank me. I wanted to be here. I care about you, Y/N. I always will.”

The sincerity in his words made your chest tighten, the bond between you humming softly in the background of your mind, a comforting presence that you were beginning to accept, to lean on.

You offered him a small, genuine smile, the first real one in what felt like forever. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Azriel’s gaze softened even further, and he reached out, his hand resting lightly on top of yours. The touch was warm, grounding, and you felt a small flicker of something more than just comfort, something that you weren’t quite ready to name yet, but that was undeniably there.

“You’re stronger than you think, Y/N,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing gently across your knuckles. “But you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, for as long as you need me.”

You squeezed his hand lightly, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, soothing the raw edges of your grief. “Thank you, Azriel. That means more to me than you know.”

The two of you sat there, hand in hand, the quiet of the apartment wrapping around you like a soft blanket. After finishing the meal, the quiet of the apartment settled in around you once more. The lingering warmth of the food and the comfort of Azriel’s presence left you feeling a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt in what seemed like an eternity. The heavy burden of grief was still there, but it was softened, cushioned by the knowledge that you weren’t alone.

As you both sat on the couch, the silence between you became something warm and inviting. You found yourself leaning closer to Azriel, seeking the comfort of his presence. He didn’t hesitate, his arm lifting slightly to allow you to rest your head on his shoulder. The gesture was so natural, so easy, that it felt like the most normal thing in the world.

Azriel’s body tensed slightly at first, but then he relaxed, his warmth radiating through his clothing. You could feel his steady breathing, the rise and fall of his chest soothing as you nestled closer. The smell of leather, pine, and something distinctly Azriel filled your senses, grounding you in the moment.

Without thinking, you reached out and gently took one of his hands in yours. You could feel him still beside you, his heartbeat quickening under your touch. Slowly, you brought his hand closer, your fingers tracing over the rough skin and the calluses that spoke of years of training and battles fought. His hands, though scarred and hardened by life, held a gentleness that belied their strength.

Azriel’s breath caught as your fingers continued their exploration, tracing the lines of his palm, brushing over the ridges of his knuckles. His shadows, usually so restless, seemed to calm, curling softly around you both as if embracing the moment.

You turned his hand over, studying it with a softness in your gaze that made Azriel’s heart race. “You’ve always been so careful with me,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “Even when I was pushing everyone away… you stayed.”

Azriel’s voice was low and steady, but there was an unmistakable warmth in it. “I wanted to. I… I care about you, Y/N. I always will.”

The words were simple, but they carried a weight that settled deep in your heart. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, you could see the depth of his feelings, the quiet intensity of his emotions that he so often kept hidden.

A small, tender smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you continued to hold his hand, your fingers tracing small patterns on his skin. “I’m glad you did, Azriel. I’m so glad you stayed.”

Azriel swallowed, his free hand moving to gently rest on your knee, his touch light, almost hesitant. “I’ll always stay, Y/N. For as long as you want me here.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in them resonating with something deep inside you. You squeezed his hand, leaning closer to him, your head resting more comfortably on his shoulder. “Then stay,” you whispered, your voice soft but filled with meaning. “Stay with me.”

Azriel’s heart pounded in his chest, the bond between you humming with quiet intensity. He turned his head slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your damp hair, his lips lingering there for just a moment longer than necessary. “Always,” he whispered back, the word a vow, a promise.

You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin, the steady beat of his heart through his chest. The world outside could wait; in this moment, there was just you and Azriel, wrapped in the comfort of each other’s presence.

And as the night deepened, the two of you sat there, your hands intertwined, your hearts beating in sync, finding solace in the quiet connection that had grown between you. As you leaned into him, your heart fluttering softly, you felt the warmth of Azriel’s hand resting on your knee. His presence was a steady, calming force, grounding you in a way that you hadn't realized you needed. The soft glow of the dim light in the room made everything feel intimate, almost dreamlike, as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet moment.

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes meeting his. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you filled with a gentle anticipation. The bond between you hummed softly, a warm thread that seemed to pull you closer together. Azriel’s dark eyes searched yours, as if seeking permission, seeking a sign that this was what you wanted too.

And it was. 

Without breaking the gaze, you shifted slightly, turning towards him. Your hand, still holding his, tightened its grip as you leaned in. Azriel’s breath hitched, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way his heart raced beneath your fingertips. 

He leaned in too, his movements slow, deliberate, as if he was giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t want to pull away. You wanted to close the gap, to feel the warmth of his lips against yours.

And then, finally, you did.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But the moment your lips touched, something inside you both seemed to click into place. The world around you faded completely, leaving only the sensation of Azriel’s lips against yours, warm and gentle, yet filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away.

His free hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin as he deepened the kiss. It was slow, tender, but there was a passion behind it, a need that had been building for far longer than either of you had realized.

You responded in kind, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss grew more insistent, more real. The bond between you thrummed with approval, the connection between you both solidifying in a way that left no room for doubt.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, your foreheads rested against each other. Azriel’s eyes were dark, intense, filled with an emotion so raw and powerful that it made your heart ache in the best possible way.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

You smiled softly, your heart swelling as you looked at him. “I’m here, Azriel. And I’m not going anywhere.”

His hand remained on your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that you hadn’t realized had fallen. “Neither am I,” he whispered back, the words filled with a promise that you knew he would keep.

The kiss between you and Azriel deepened, the tender exploration quickly giving way to a more urgent need. Your hands roamed his chest under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin under your fingertips, while his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. The air between you grew heavy with anticipation.

But then, as if realizing that this moment required something more than just the couch in the living room, Azriel paused, his dark eyes searching yours for permission. When you gave him a slight nod, he swiftly and effortlessly scooped you up into his arms, carrying you towards your bedroom. The gesture was gentle, but there was a strength behind it that made your heart race.

He set you down on the edge of the bed, the soft sheets cool against your heated skin. Your hands immediately went to the waistband of his pants, but he caught them gently, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and something deeper—something that made your chest tighten with emotion.

“Let me,” he whispered, his voice thick with need.

You nodded, your breath hitching as he slowly began to remove the last of your clothing, his fingers trailing over your skin as he did. The fabric fell away, leaving you exposed to him, but rather than feeling vulnerable, you felt… cherished. Azriel’s gaze was reverent, as if you were the most precious thing he had ever laid eyes on.

He followed quickly, shedding most of his own clothing before joining you on the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight as he leaned over you, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was both passionate and tender. The urgency from before was still there, but it was tempered by a deep, unspoken understanding that this moment was more than just physical.

Azriel’s hands began to explore your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine as he caressed your curves. His lips trailed from your mouth down to your neck, leaving a path of soft kisses that made your breath hitch in your throat. When he reached your breasts, he took his time, his hands and mouth lavishing attention on you in a way that made your body respond with a burning heat.

You gasped softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he teased your nipples with his tongue, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through your body. Azriel’s hand slid lower, his fingers grazing over your stomach before finding their way between your thighs. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours, seeking permission once again.

You answered with a quiet moan, your hips instinctively tilting towards him, inviting his touch. Azriel’s eyes darkened with desire as he let his fingers slide over your folds, his touch gentle but deliberate as he began to explore you.

The sensation was overwhelming, your body reacting to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated. Azriel seemed to know exactly what you needed, his fingers moving with a skill that left you breathless. He circled your most sensitive spot, his touch driving you closer and closer to the edge.

And then, just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, he moved lower, his lips following the path his fingers had traced. You barely had time to react before you felt the warmth of his mouth against your most intimate place, his tongue flicking against you with a tenderness that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body.

Your back arched off the bed, a soft cry escaping your lips as Azriel’s tongue worked its magic. He was relentless, his movements precise, each flick of his tongue and gentle suck drawing you closer and closer to the precipice. The bond between you flared, pulsing with approval as he brought you higher and higher, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you steady.

When the release finally came, it was like a wave crashing over you, your entire body shuddering with the intensity of it. Your hands clutched at the sheets, your breath coming in ragged gasps as Azriel continued to guide you through the aftershocks, his tongue slowing its movements but never stopping.

It wasn’t until you were trembling and spent that he finally pulled back, his lips pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs as you came down from the high. You lay there, your chest heaving, your mind spinning with the sheer intensity of what had just happened.

Azriel crawled up beside you, his body warm and solid as he pulled you into his arms. The world outside the bed seemed to fade away as you nestled against him, your head resting on his chest. The steady beat of his heart was a comforting rhythm, grounding you in the moment.

But even as you lay there, wrapped in his embrace, a wave of emotion welled up inside you. The events of the day—the burial, the memories, the grief—suddenly felt overwhelming, and before you knew it, soft tears began to slip down your cheeks.

Azriel noticed immediately, his arms tightening around you as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice filled with a tenderness that only made the tears fall faster. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”

You clung to him, your tears soaking into his skin as you let out the pain that had been building inside you for weeks. It wasn’t just about the loss of Alex—it was about everything. The grief, the guilt, the fear of moving on, the fear of letting go. And through it all, Azriel held you, his presence a steady, unyielding support.

When the tears finally subsided, leaving you feeling raw but lighter, you looked up at him, your eyes red-rimmed and filled with gratitude. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “For being here… for everything.”

Azriel smiled softly, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears. “Always,” he murmured, his voice full of conviction. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth settle in your chest as you snuggled closer to him. The day had been long, the emotions heavy, but here, in Azriel’s arms, you felt a sense of peace that you hadn’t known in a long time.

The two of you lay there in the quiet, your breathing slowly evening out as the exhaustion of the day caught up with you. Azriel’s hand gently stroked your hair, his touch soothing, and it wasn’t long before your eyes began to droop, sleep pulling you under.

Just before you drifted off, you heard Azriel’s voice, soft and full of emotion. “I care about you so much, Y/N. More than you know.”

You didn’t have the energy to respond, but you squeezed his hand, letting him know you heard him, that you felt the same. And as you finally succumbed to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift, replaced by the comforting knowledge that you didn’t have to face the darkness alone.

---

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[joannechocolat]

Burn the library, or walk inside. Either way, it's your choice.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you can't have missed the escalating riots all around the country - riots which the media keep referring to as "protests", in spite of the fact that no-one involved seems to agree on just what they are protesting against.

Dragging strangers out of cars, burning down public buildings, throwing stones at ambulancemen, setting fire to hotels in a deliberate attempt to burn the people inside alive - and maybe scoring a new phone or pair of trainers on the way home - has nothing to do with "protest."

It certainly has nothing to do with the brutal murder of three little girls, although that was used as a springboard by online agitators, claiming that the murderer was an immigrant (he wasn't, and even if he were, attacking other immigrants because of what he did makes about as much sense as torching a Wetherspoons in Manchester in protest against Myra Hindley.) Nor does it have anything to do with Asian grooming gangs in Rotherham, although that's the most recent excuse I've heard: those grooming gangs were dreadful, but these criminals do not represent the Asian community any more than do the white leaders of grooming gangs (which by far outnumber them).

So, what the fuck is this about?

Well, it's the illegal immigrants, they say. Coming into our country, taking our jobs, raping our girls, yadda, yadda, yadda. Except that it isn't. Brexit has made it increasingly difficult for foreigners to work here, which is why so many European doctors and nurses have already left the country, putting still yet more pressure onto our dying NHS. And refugees - let's call them that, given they're neither immigrants, nor here illegally - aren't allowed to work while their application is being processed. As for "immigrant crime", a phrase that these people have borrowed from Trump - it represents a tiny proportion of crime in the UK, which by the way has risen sharply as the riots have escalated, because the police just don't have the manpower to fight on two fronts at the same time.

And add to this the fact that the principal agitators - people like Yaxley-Lennon and Farage - don't even live in this country, I think it's pretty clear that whatever motivation these burners of libraries, looters of shops, and goose-stepping Nazi cosplayers claim, it has nothing to do with "British values" or "taking back the country", and everything to do with doing whatever the fuck they want and blaming it on someone else.

Why do I care? Because I was born in one of these communities. I still have family in Rotherham, in Barnsley. I live less than fifteen miles away from the heart of these riots. I've done events in the libraries and universities that have been attacked. And by the way, isn't it weird how thugs always target libraries and places of learning on their way to robbing their local Lush, or Greggs, or Shoezone?

It's almost as if the agitators know that education is the key. That reading brings us together; teaches us to question what we read on the internet; crosses cultural boundaries; reminds us we're all human. And in disaffected communities like Rotherham, with a high degree of poverty, access to these ideas is very dangerous in the eyes of a far-right movement that wants to take power.

Already, 14 years of austerity, cuts and corruption has brought the country to its knees. By cutting education and the arts, Tories have reduced the access of these underprivileged communities to critical thinking and new ideas. Brexit has done further damage, as well as cutting us off from our allies. After the event, it is now clear how much Russian misinformation played its part in that process, just as it's playing a part right now in spreading its racist rhetoric via supporters like Farage and the fake accounts that amplify him. Now they're no longer in power, the far-right is doing its best to do as much further damage as possible to our society, urging people to "take control" by destroying anything else that can help them out of poverty.

Why? Because poor people are easier for the far-right to control. Poverty and crime are linked; just as illiteracy and crime are linked. And both of those things are linked to hate; to racism and mistrust of anyone who seems different.

But here's the thing. There's always a choice. Not everyone who grows up poor becomes a criminal. Not everyone who missed out on a good education becomes a racist. I grew up in a poor neighbourhood. There were some racists there, and some thugs, but most people were decent and honest. Most people were happy to co-exist with people of different cultures. I was one of those people; my family was different. Sometimes people even told us to go back home where we belonged. Most didn't. But of course, were were white. We looked like them. There's an obvious reason why brown and Black people in particular are being dehumanized and blamed for what's wrong with the country now.

And it's ironic, how people react when someone calls them racist? "But we're just ordinary people, with ordinary concerns."

"I'm not racist, I'm just (insert your bullshit reason here)."

And yet, here we are. Racism is ordinary. And if you do racist things, if you blame all brown people for what one brown person did, if you judge people by the way they look, if you make assumptions about whole groups of people, then you're a racist. And if you spout Nazi slogans, do Nazi salutes, walk with Nazis, repeat Nazi propaganda, then you're a fucking Nazi, mate. Live with it, or change. Your choice.

Because the choices we make today affect what comes tomorrow. And although poverty isn't a choice, being a decent person is. Your choices can help your children break the cycle of despair. Or they can keep your kids stuck in the same rut. To put it another way, you can take your kids to the library and let them learn to think for themselves. Or you can burn the libraries down and take them to watch you and your mates trying to set fire to some terrified refugees in a hotel instead.

Either way, your kids get to live with the choices you make today.

Right now, you're deciding their future.

Your choice.

[oddly-specific-hermit-headcanons]

Welcome.

To Oddly Specific Hermitcraft Headcanons! Here, you can see and submit any headcanons you have that can best be described as "oddly specific". Here are some examples of my own:

BDubs always toasts his bread for exactly 15 minutes. This doesn't burn it, because his toaster is broken. As a matter of fact, it doesn't toast anything at all, but the placebo effect works on him. No one's told him the truth about his "toast".

Impulse is lactose intolerant. The whole Season 8 iDimpy Bar Fiasco was supposed to have not happened with the power of magical amethyst fuckery. Unfortunately he messed up and it just made everything worse (read: the amethysts amplified the ambient magic in the air and caused him to start growing plants from his face along with the other unfortunate side effects)...

Pearl likes to crunch on pickles. Not as a snack, she just crunches them between her teeth. Gem always wonders what happens with the extra stock from her shop... Pearl isn't using all of it in her builds, after all!

Inbox currently at: 14

Queue currently at: 14

The only rules of this blog:

Don't be a bigot or otherwise rude.

SFW only, please! This blog is run by at least two minors. I, uh, don't know how old Mod Merle is.

We do accept headcanons related to gender, sexuality, neurodivergency, disability, age/pet regression, etc., but we ask that you keep them to a minimum, and they must in some way be oddly specific (as is the spirit of this blog)- and don't expect a mod response for those ones, because we don't have a lot of experience in those spheres and don't want to misrepresent anything via a misinformed response!

Additional info:

This blog will run on a queue, determined by how many asks we get on average. This queue is currently set to two per day.

We'll try to give a proper response to your headcanons, but it's not guaranteed! Our lives are busy!

Hermitcraft-adjacent series are also accepted for headcanons.

For submissions, don't mind the fact that not all the Hermits are in the available tags-- turns out there's a limit to how many tag options can be added, sooo... yeah.

With that... happy headcanoning!

[teaableu]

WHAT IS YOUR EXILE AU LIKE....

I HAVE BEEN WAITING AGES FOR SOMEONE TO ASK ME THIS

Okay SO a LOT is up in the air right now because I'm doing Research as best I can between classes BUT here's what i got so far:

Lord Kogane is from a very powerful family that wants to take full control over Neo Edo. They think he's doing a poor job because the yokai are running free again and he's overall a pretty useless ruler. They step in and force him to enforce some pretty Messed Up Stuff that put all the people in danger (something to do with the Makkine tech probably). Usagi and his friends have a front row seat as to what he's up to and Usagi decides he won't let them get away with it. I haven't worked out the details but the Koganes' plans threaten the people and the yokai. BUT Usagi's not strong enough to take out the Koganes on his own.

My Usagi has a mystic power of sorts, which makes him very sensitive to spirits. All of the visions he gets through the Ki stone in the show, plus his ability to speak with Miyamoto stem from this ability. A simple way of seeing it would be like, he can see the threads of their lives. So he can read souls and connect with them, and sees ghosts when others cannot. I think the Ki stone sort of unlocked and amplified it when he connected with her. I'm still working on the details of his power but basically he can see and talk to ghosts with a little extra stuff sprinkled in

So the Ki stone encourages Usagi to seek help. Turns out the Koganes have a rich history of killing entire villages and armies that oppose them, dating (maybe) all the way back to Miyamoto's time. So he finds a couple of restless ghosts that are still waiting for vengeance and asks for their help. He strikes a deal that was supposed to help him fight Kogane while allowing the ghosts to avenge themselves their loved ones and their clans. I think he would amplify their power while they help him fight. But he doesn't realize who exactly he's making this deal with and ends up tethering his soul to very powerful VERY ANGRY ghosts that are WAY stronger than he is (I've been researching onryo and yurei for reference). They can take possession of his body, amplify his emotions to be in tune with their own, manipulate his power, and generally cause a lot of destruction. Basically, he becomes their puppet. I'm thinking it's a Venom or Little Shop of Horrors type dynamic between them. Also think of any poltergeist type film

He makes the deal and the ghosts possess him. When Usagi wakes up, he's killed Kogane (who really wasn't even the Big Bad behind the whole thing) and has to flee the city before he's caught and put to death for treason and murder. His friends are all imprisoned but he can't risk returning because he has lost control of his power and is unable to control the ghosts that are bound to his soul. The ghosts are starving for power and burning with hundreds of years of fury and anguish, and feed off of destruction (maybe the living?) It's sort of a pandora's box situation. The ghosts are just a whirlwind of chaos and use Usagi as a means to exact their wrath

I called it exile because Usagi can't return to the city without being arrested and killed for his crimes. The gang was the only one standing up to Kogane, and with his friends in prison, he's sort of stuck. He blames himself for everything that went wrong because he ran off without his friends and jumped headfirst into a situation he did not understand. He was reckless and cocky and now everyone is paying for it.

That's where EMD comes in, but the story continues after EMD season 2 as well.

Some extra notes:

- The timeline for srtuc would probably be a bit different so I can have more flexibility with the season one and season two events, since I wasn't sure when it would take place and I want there to be a pretty big time gap between Usagi leaving and returning. I also might use the Makkine invasion in the story

- I’m still working out Usagi’s backstory/past, but have pretty much decided that he has some history with the Kogane family

- I'm planning for Miyamoto to have a pretty big part in the story as well, acting as a guide for Usagi when he goes into hiding. I'm really interested in their relationship so I really want to take the chance to explore it.

- I'm thinking of adding someone as a nod to Tomoe Ame as well (descendant of her apprentice perhaps), since we got a representation of Chizu, Kitsune, and Gen in the tv show but not Tomoe (sad)

I wrote out the sparksnotes version of this here

In addition to the artwork there I have some other concept art

Blood warning under the cut

[tokischaaaaa]

in mandy’s newest vlog she shows a full length mirror infront of hamzahs bed and i was wondering (if you’re comfortable of course) write something smutty about that 🥰🥰🙏

ofcc <333

espejo;mirror

!hamzah x !poc reader

warning! : smut, fluff

word count!: 698

it's a friday night, 95 degrees, i ain't got ---

y/n was gearing up for a late-night shopping spree at a new mall a few blocks away with her friends. her bag was packed with all her makeup essentials, but she couldn't use the bathroom mirror since hamzah was still in there.

instead, she decided to use hamzah’s full-length mirror, which stood next to his bed, to prime her face and start her makeup routine. as she began applying her foundation, the bathroom door creaked open, and hamzah emerged, a cloud of steam trailing behind him. his eyes landed on her, curiosily.

“is that what you're wearing out?” hamzah asked, his voice tinged with an unspoken concern.

y/n glanced at herself in the mirror, taking in her red tank top emblazoned with the flag of españa and her tight levi shorts. “yeah, why?” she replied, now curling her eyelashes with precision.

hamzah’s expression darkened slightly. it was clear he wasn’t pleased. “i promise it looks better when i'm standing,” she added, rising from her seated position.

“stay seated,” hamzah ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

y/n stayed seated, locking eyes with hamzah through the mirror. she decided to tease him a little, reaching farther than necessary for her brush, making sure her thong was visible as she did so.

hamzah's eyes darkened with desire as he got on his knees, tugging at her jeans to signal her to take them off. she smirked and complied, slipping out of her jeans but continuing her makeup routine. her focus wavered, though, as she felt hamzah's manhood press against her, slipping inside her with a slow, motion.

it was a shock, but a welcome one. she adjusted quickly to his rhythm, deciding to tease him further by reaching for her mascara, the act causing hamzah to moan in response. she moved into a child's pose, applying her mascara while moving her hips in a circular motion, keeping hamzah on edge.

“stop playin’ with me, y/n,” hamzah groaned, his voice thick with need.

y/n smirked, continuing her slow, tantalizing movements until hamzah flipped her onto her back. he bent down, holding the back of her neck, and inched their faces together, capturing her lips in a deep, hungry kiss.

their makeout session intensified, hamzah's hips moving in a circular motion, amplifying the ecstasy already felt from their lips. their kisses grew sloppier, and hamzah’s thrusts became more powerful. y/n pulled hamzah’s neck into her chest, tugging on his hair, urging him to go harder.

hamzah’s hand roamed up her body, sending shivers down her spine. his lips left hers, trailing kisses along her jawline and down to her neck, sucking and nibbling, leaving marks in his wake. y/n gasped and moaned, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

"i'm close," hamzah whispered, his breath hot against her ear.

y/n nodded, signaling him to release inside her. with a final deep thrust, he groaned, his release filling her. he collapsed on her chest, slowly withdrawing from her, leaving them both breathless.

“can you stay home tonight? i'll take you out another day,” hamzah pleaded, playing with her hair.

y/n huffed, “fine, but i still want to finish my makeup.” she crawled back to the floor, resuming her makeup routine.

not before hamzah positioned himself between her thighs, eyes gleaming with a mischievous idea.

“do you want a makeover?” y/n asked, proposing a new way to spend the night.

hamzah chuckled, “if it means more time with you, sure.”

y/n smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. "let's see what we can do," she said, pulling out her makeup kit.

hamzah watched her intently, admiration in his eyes. as she applied the makeup, they laughed and talked, the intimacy of the moment deepening their connection.

“how do i look?” hamzah asked, grinning as she finished.

“gorgeous,” y/n replied, her eyes twinkling with affection.

he pulled her into his arms, holding her close. “thank you, y/n,” he whispered.

“anytime, hamzah,” she replied, resting her head on his shoulder.

the night might not have gone as planned, but in each other’s arms, it felt perfect.

tokischaaa speaks: sorry if these are short :< but anyway keep sending requests lol this writing helping my brain be mad proactive lol

[eatmangoesnekkid]

One thing about me is that you can take me out of the African village but you will never take the African village out of me. Can you wear underwear or bottoms in your home? Me, I can not —not in my home, maybe in an Airbnb at best! Wearing anything over my vulva and hips beyond a piece of fabric, dress, or skirt feels claustrophobic no matter how cold it is outside. And I truly believe that allowing our root chakra to breathe in our homes not only elevates our lower body sensitivity and vulva consciousness but also gives our entire body more life and unrepressed vitality. And definitely sleeping naked is amplifying for our total body wellbeing I promise.

Embodiment (being fully alive in our bodies) is often one of the most missing links in transformation work. We have bodies, but when we have all these layers of clothes on, we tend to forget about our bodies. Those who live in tropical or warm climates have more opportunity to be naturally embodied than those who don’t simply because they get to wear less clothing. And our tissues get to take an Air bath. The sanity!

Our world doesn’t like to see the full primal power of the feminine in women and tames it out of us as little girls. It lies to us and scares us with religion that teaches us to suppress the feminine in our maiden years, to be nice and sweet, and pleasing to our “sky-daddy.” Our bodies then become exhausted from having to use up and leak out a lot of life force energy in order to fit into these flaccid “good girls” frequencies never meant to hold our fullness.

“She is a virtuous woman!” The world celebrates us when we shrink our power, don’t move our breasts, bellies, and hips, have no relationship with our bodies below the neck and are always doing, doing, doing for everyone. Our world not-so-secretly wants us to be domesticated, bored, and dehydrated and thereby controllable, as we graduate from being “good girls” into our next phase, being “good moms,” awww “such perfect moms,” the Big Mamas who will sacrifice their health and magic to cook and clean up behind everyone in the family, including other grown adults until they get a stroke that sits down them permanently. Oh, our beloved world loves when we lose our playfulness and radiance, when we stop laughing and being silly, and all that is left for us to do is to self-soothe through shopping all the time, keeping corporate structures thriving and economically in tact. This world gets us to obey by labeling women who refuse to burn out and have accessed their enormous multidimensional creative power as bad, wrong, sluts or undesirable, which has never been further from the truth for many of us.

Begin to say “yes” to the path that allows you to organize structures in your every day life that do not allow you to lose connection with your body— hips, vulva, pussy, buttocks, lower back, legs, feet, breasts, spine, throat, belly/womb/cervix, etc.

And why on earth would I, as a grown arse woman, wear underwear or bottoms in my own home and oppress my female body, walking around with an angry vulva that can't fully breathe because I’m unwilling to move through physiological taboos, fears or discomforts built by masculine frameworks that shame wetness, arousal, desire, female health, etc? Why would I not give my body more of the blood, lymph, and air flow nutrition it craves? Chile, please! 🙏🏿

Me having fun before I descend into this work cocoon next week. —India Ame’ye

[guided-by-the-skies]

Environmental Astro

Ok, my post on astrology and your space was a bit (???) mote popular than I thought, nothing special but didn't realise the topic would attract any interest at all.

I have always tried to read this way (in line with the environment) just because it always made sense to me, I found I couldn't understand astrology out of this context so I got deep into geospatial and geolocational stuff and also reading the energy of places.

🌲 This approach is great for reconnecting to nature especially if you feel nature deprived or even climate anxiety. This can often affect earth and water signs.

🌺 Sacred groves (rings of trees) appear all over europe and had significance in Celtic times in the uk, these can be great places to go and relax at the quarter moon as they normally have loads of dynamic beneficial energy that is not so intense that it brings up unnecessary shadow work

🍁 The age of aquarius is both water and air based, some people are sceptical but could this refer to the huge changes in tech that are taking place and the impact on human consciousness and the natural world? Sometimes things are real but astrology often works in metaphor. There is evidence in the landscape on ley lines, water lines, and so on that our consciousness can affect the landscape and vice versa

🍀 Signs born in winter (maybe sagittarius to pisces) can find they are negatuvely affected by energy in summer, it can be too intense for them. It helps to go near water or other shady, cool, or sacred places such as nearby woods and so on

🍂 Full moon can make all signs more anxious and jittery, it may be tempting to stay in and hole up in your room but this powerful time can amplify shadow work especially if you go for a walk near a body of water.

🌲 The 'dog days' of summer wre recognised by ancient people and coincided with the rising of the star sirius. This came along with periods of stiflingly hot weather. In this period energy can feel stagnant and shadow work is difficult. It can help to travel to different places in this time to combat this.

🌺 Autumn can be a time of great change for all signs but especially earth and fire signs. Being in an urban environment at the time can help with this and bring positive change into your life as urban centres have a greater diversity of different energy

🍁 Train stations and places like airports are ruled by mercury. If mercury is in your inner houses this can lead you to feel overwhelmed or drained after visiting these spaces. If mercury is in your outer houses you may instead feel inspired and energised.

🍂 Pluto placements in any of the inner houses (1-6) can lead you to doing shadow work mostly around your home space ans seeking the outdoor world as a form of distraction.

🍀 uranus placements in your outer houses (7-12) can indicate where and in what field you will manage to challenge the status quo. 11th house can refer to places like coffee shops, bars, and other social spaces. 9th house connects to academic institutions, museums, and libraries. 10th house can cover places of fame and status like concert halls but also those with intense power structures like the business district of a city.

🌲 The 9th house can influence how you respond to places of learning. If you have beneficial 9th house places you may find these environments inspiring. Alternatuvely uranus in the 9th house can lead to feeling stifled in these environments. Mars can lead to conflict and a tense atmosphere while venus can lead to you finding spaces solely transactional but maybe uninspiring (think of a degree or course that is only taught to the book for financial reasons)

🌺 swimming pools, beaches, rivers, the sea, and lakes are all governed by different planets. Pools tend to fall under uranus or neptune depending on the space as they are man made structures.

🍁 as liminal or transitional spaces, beaches connect to the 2nd house as well as the 11th and 9th (travel). they tend to be ruled by different planets based on the individual beach

🍂 rivers have a strong influence from mercury as they are in a sense a form of energy flow/communications in the natural world

🍀 the sea is ruled by the tides and therefore the moon. Your draw to the sea (if you feel this) may be governed in fact by the phases of the moon.

THANK YOU! 🦋HOPE 🦋YOU 🦋ENJOY 🦋