#watermark aside i love these pictures

[reinvent-luv]

the young veins at a portrait photoshoot for the LA times

<Don Bartletti/Los Angeles Times>

[youremy-celebrity]

fbi open up // my hero academia (social media au) [completed]

amongst search histories and private youtube videos

bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

genre: university/college au, fluff, crack, angst

warnings: swearing, sexual themes, adult stuff in general, jokes about dying, bakugo, slow burn, violence

disc: all pictures i used were found on pinterest and belong to their respective artists! i’ve only watermarked edits i’ve made!

taglist closed! thank you for your interest, reblogs are appreciated! <3

part one: todoroki shoto step on me

part two: squash me with your biceps

part three: this isn't about you anymore

part four: you can't threaten me with a good time

part five: we don't ice our drinks like pussies

part six: say sike rn

part seven: they're not so nice anymore

part eight: i'll do anything for a spicy man

part nine: payback for puking on my shoes

part ten: teasing AND threatening

part eleven: i'll cut you

part twelve: how is he hotter when i'm sober

part thirteen: like some eboy

part fourteen: i don't really care if you're into turtle porn

part fifteen: "what i want shinsou hitoshi for"

part sixteen: bakugo this is not a drill

part seventeen: everybody press the red button

part eighteen: please put the baby aside

part nineteen: you're a menace to society, cupcake

part twenty: i haven't invited you yet babe

part twenty-one: oh

part twenty-two: you don't mean anything to me

part twenty-three: can't a girl crave some ramen

part twenty-four: being a bitch for bitch's sake

part twenty-five: hiding in your room like pussies

part twenty-six: what, no cupcake?

part twenty-seven: i'll break all your teeth

part twenty-eight: i’m not whipped

part twenty-nine: it’s not very baby of you

part thirty: be my girlfriend

part thirty-one: who do you want?

part thirty-two: he says he doesn’t care

part thirty-three: a knife in my bedside drawer

part thirty-four: bubbly fun wheat juice

part thirty-five: can't cut carrots for shit though

part thirty-six: i'm going on a bird hunt

part thirty-seven: get in line bakuhoe (written)

part thirty-eight: don't be the dumbass now, love

part thirty-nine: i think my boyfriend's been kidnapped

bonus part forty: love you too babe

afterword

thanks for reading!

main masterlist

[sparfloxacin]

jokes aside, after some deep analysis I'm actually convinced it was indeed Aleksi who made those Halloween kits for the tiktok, because the picture that was used for Aleksi's is the same picture he's using for all his socials, while all the others are just some very random (and old) pictures

and you know, just in general those kit descriptions sound a lot like they could've been written by Aleksi, so we really have connected the dots until proven otherwise, do what you will with this information 😌🖤

Oh yeah I didn’t even think of that! But I did notice that Aleksi posted the pic without the tiktok watermark (versus Joel who posted it in his story with the watermark in it) so it definitely was Aleksi 😌

I love how the descriptions are things everybody knows already (I don’t know how to explain it 😂😭) and then there’s the ”deep conversations with red wine” 🥰

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

While its still March, let me introduce to my little bug babies from my crossover fic, Kamen Rider Thunderbirds X3 (yes I noticed the watermark is from 2022 since I made those pictures during November. But now I have the time to show them off XD)

Click on “keep reading” for a quick info for each of the characters (from left to right) ^^

@uniwolfcorn @teapotteringabout​ @skymaiden32 @knyee @janetm74 @the-original-sineater @amistrio @thundergeek59 @riallasheng @soniabigcheese @inertplanetary @katblu42 @dreamycloud @godsliltippy @commandermac @kamenriderserotonin

Yuuki Tsugami (Kamen Rider Agito)- The brave and kind young man with psychic powers. Much like his father, he’s really good at committing to his double-life role, to the point that most people (aside of his friends) could not distinguish from his silent, noble warrior of Agito to his happy-go-lucky, pun-loving guy personas. The first to jump into battle when monsters are in the vicinity.

Taira Kaoru (Kamen Rider Kuuga)- The optimist with nearly 2000 skills, with the goal of giving people smiles. He’s the go-to guy when his friends needed comfort and getting the spirits up. While he despises the use of violence, he feels it is a necessity to stop monsters from causing harm.

Koji Sumiko (Kamen Rider G3-X)- A half-Japanese and half-British ex-cop, who is a smart and courageous badass. When his mind is put into work, he’s a serious hacker, operator and fighter. When off duty, he’s laidback, chill (most of the time) and the type to crack a good joke or two. Though, he does get irritated when there’s chaos in the room, sometimes.

Recko Ashihara (Kamen Rider Gills)- The serious one and the “Reality Hammer” of the group. Although he has trust issues with people, he always follows his friends and not afraid to speak the truth when he feels the situation needs it. He also has a low-content woldog companion named Raider.

Tensai Kiryu (Kamen Rider Build)- The eccentric narcissist but good hearted genius of the Rider gang. While his ways of invention and problem solving could be described as chaotic and he’s a certified troll, he will do anything to keep his friends and everyone around him safe and kick some baddies’ ass for Love and Peace.

Sakiko Hino (Kamen Rider OOO)- The “big sister” and the voice of reason. Sweet and fierce, her love for adventure and her deep caring for her friends made her the person that keeps everything together when times go sore. She got super-strength that she had inherited from her grandmother, which she’s a bit embarrassed about it.

Leo Hidari and Soren (Kamen Rider W)- Two in one Rider, a pair of expert detectives from an obscure Japanese city of Fuuto. While Leo is the resident half-boiled drama queen of the group, his compassion and empathy is essential when faced with the criminals he arrests. Soren is his close partner with mysterious wind powers, who is an oblivious nerd, but very helpful when it comes to find important information.

Akira Hiden (Kamen Rider Zero One)- The youngest of the group and the CEO of an android company of his family heritage, Hiden Intelligence. Cheerful, caring and humble, he’s the type who tries his best to support his friends no matter how dire the situation is. Even when cracking one of his many terrible puns. He has a sentient android secretary named Izu, who accompanies him and act as his close support.

[cosmicpaladintaka]

I am not a person who is not very knowledgeable about it beyond a cursory understanding of how it works, and how to set it up and use it, but I’ll give it a go. Warning! Big post oncoming!

1. I’m not sure to the first part of the first question? The tricky thing is that diffusion based image generators and their models do not contain images or the actual training data. They work by training against a set of images, and then sans images, they use those same algorithms and methods to generate things from scratch. What people tend to mistake as AI copying and pasting (hence the collage claims or claims of direct copying) is the result of uneven weighting in the dataset or representation of different images. To give an example, if your dataset has 3 pictures of bananas and 7 pictures of clocks, it’s more likely to include a clock than a banana.

Current legal stuff aside, and emotional response of artists aside, there’s no way to prohibit or prevent scraping. A safe assumption on the internet since its inception has been that if you post something, there’s no removing it, and over the past 15 years, it’s also been read and catalogued. There’s no way to prevent things from ending up in a dataset short of limiting yourself to very tightly limited and secure places, which is counterintuitive to a lot of artists goal; which is outreach, and sharing works with people. Art theft is not a new concept, and while alien (and not currently legally theft) , this is not nearly as violating as someone stealing your work, removing watermarks, tracing, etc for someone’s direct benefit.

And this leads into question 3; Datasets like LAION5B (which is open source and publicly available, same as SD, unlike DALLE-mini, or any shit Facebook, Google, or other big companies cook up) contains almost 6 billion images. Even if stable diffusion *did* just copy and paste images, you’d have over 211,000 different images (let’s say individual people) fighting to get a single pixel in a 512x512 image. You can look at sites like this one and look at what’s in datasets too: https://laion-aesthetic.datasette.io/laion-aesthetic-6pls/images The best I can describe is we have a massive moral philosophy problem, with no correct answer because correct answers are contextually dependent. I would agree with the concept of them as theft if it were to be held and managed solely by large companies, and locked into black box programs with no transparency, control, or accountability. Both under a utilitarian perspective, or Kant’s categorical imperative. But the work is freely available, for academic or personal purposes, and this sort of undertaking is impossible without this level of work, and I can see how it will benefit small artists, creatives, independent film makers or game designers, etc as well as individuals I love tools like img2img because they allow me to work faster, which means I can work bigger which is a huge boon as an individual artist if you have massive ideas. Imagine a showrunner like Dana Terrace being able to produce The Owl House that she wanted, with complete creative control, without the need for major studio backing. This is all a game changer for that. But at the same time our society’s current structure is wholly incompatible with the consequences of mass automation and increases in productivity. And right now a lot of artists struggle, I can speak from personal experience. I just hope these tools can help minimize some of the downsides as much as they can create them

I have a question! Would it be possible for an algorithm to determine how much of a particular person’s style an AI is drawing on when it creates an image? If possible, would it be possible for artists to be paid a percentage of an AI’s earnings in proportion to how frequently that style is used? Or would we run into artistic overlap issues once the AI reaches a certain size? Not an expert on AI or art here, so any advice/opinions/information would be lovingly welcomed.

[dandelionflower]

(Some salt fic september)

Francois DuPont was an artistic school. With talented students varying from designers, to journalists, to DJs, to comic artists and writers. The art room of the school was always the busiest, the loudest, and the favorite room of the school.

So it would make sense for the school to have a yearly showcase. It was called a talent show once upon a time, but eventually the staff and students agreed that ‘talent show’ didn’t suit the talents the students were bringing to the table. Thus, the Francois DuPont showcase was born.

Students worked for months on their piece for the showcase. More than fifty percent of the works in the art room were pieces for the showcase.

It wasn’t mandatory by any means, but most students with a talent in the arts would participate. But with almost all the students participating and some having more than one piece to showcase, the show usually lasted a few days.

Lila, of course, didn’t know any of that so when asked if she was participating in the showcase in a few months, she grinned and said “Of course!”

Alya lit up. “Great! It’s going to be my first showcase too, and I want someone who knows what I’m going through. C’mon, we have to sign up.” And she dragged her into the halls.

Sign up? But it’s in three months. Lila shrugged and allowed herself to be pulled to the sign up sheets.

Alya immediately wrote her name underneath the ‘verbal’ column, putting a ‘journalism’ next to it.

Lila surveyed the options. The easiest thing to fake would probably be photography, so she marked her name under ‘media’ and wrote a ‘photography’ next to it.

“Ooh, photography? What do you take pictures of? Because I know Mari’s been looking for a partner to take pictures of her designs with her.”

Lila bit back a grimace. “Thanks, but I prefer to take pictures of...” Art? Buildings? “Nature. I find that taking pictures of people is narcissistic as a society.”

“Aren’t you a model?” A judgmental voice came from behind her.

“I- well-“ She stuttered.

“It’s completely different, Felix! Lila doesn’t think her photo shoots are art worthy, she’s just doing it as a job.” Alya snapped, throwing an arm out to almost shield Lila from the chill radiating from Felix’s entire person.

“Very well.” Felix stepped around the two and signed his name in perfect cursive beneath Lila’s name and walked away without another word.

“That guy gives me the creeps.” Alix remarked as she scratched her name under the ‘performance’ column, then the ‘piece of art that cannot be moved’ section.

“And he’s doing photography too! Don’t worry Lila, there’s no way he’s better than you.” Alya grabbed her arm reassuringly and began walking with her back to class.

“Yeah, right...” Lila held in a wince as she found her way back to her seat.

Surely photography can’t be that hard.

—

It was that hard.

Lila had waited one week before the showcase to start taking pictures on her phone. She walked to the park and snapped a few pictures, called it a day, and went home.

They were terrible. Blurry, ugly, terrible.

The next thing she tried was looking up stock images and photoshopping the watermark off.

She was awful at photoshop.

Finally, she resorted to her escape plan.

“Sorry, Alya. But I completely forgot that I’m volunteering at the elementary school all day on the day of the showcase, and I can’t just cancel on them. I’m so sorry.”

“Girl, it’s no problem! Marinette told me that the showcase is going to go on for four days. We’ll just reschedule your slot. It’s no problem at all.”

“Great.” She muttered through gritted teeth. “See you then.”

...crap.

She had only one plan now.

And it was risky.

—

Lila walked into class on Monday, prepared for her showcase.

She explained to Alya that when she explained what was going on to the leader of her organization, they gave her a rain check.

“I’m just so thankful.” She brushed away a tear. “I really wanted to make sure I could see everyone’s talents.”

“That’s so sweet!” Rose cooed. “I can’t wait to see your pictures either!”

“I just hope they correctly portray the beauty of my subject...” Lila pressed a hand to her chest in modesty.

“Students, I need all of the media students to come to the art classroom with your flash drives and cameras.” Miss Bustier put her phone down and smiled. “And anyone who paired with a media student for their talent please also join the students in the art room.”

Lila stood and gave everyone a hug. “Wish me luck!”

She noticed Sabrina stand as well and accept a half hearted hug from Chloe and a nod of support from Max. Juleka stood too and hugged Rose tight.

“Bye Alya! Wish me luck.” Marinette appeared from seemingly nowhere and hugged Alya tight. “And don’t be worried about your presentation. We’ll find some time to rehearse before tomorrow.”

“Thanks girl. Look after Lila for me? She’s just as new as I am.”

Marinette’s eyes darkened for just a second, but she quickly broke into a grin. “No problem. And don’t be worried, Lila. I’m sure your photos are just unimaginable.”

“Thanks Marinette. That’s just so sweet of you.” They linked arms and waltzed out of the room.

The moment they were out of eye shot of any of their classmates, they stepped aside.

“You don’t even have pictures, do you?” Marinette growled.

“What do you mean Marinette? Of course I have pictures.” She smirked. Or at least, I will in just a minute.

—

The art room was bustling and chaotic. Perfect for a camera or flash drive to go missing.

Marinette was bombarded by a group of kids from Felix’s class.

“Ready to see the product of our hard work?” A girl with two dark buns on the top of her head asked.

“I hope so.” She gave them a bashful smile.

Lila stopped paying attention. She had a goal in mind.

Her eyes landed on an expensive looking camera sitting on a desk at the side of the room. A sitting duck.

With a side glance for witnesses, Lila walked right by the camera and slipped the memory card right out and into her awaiting palm.

With her goal met, she sat primly in her chair, waiting for them to be called to the stage.

“Alright, photographers, models, actors, directors!” The art teacher stood. “Let’s go!”

Lila skipped up to him, a look of concern on her face. “Sir?”

“Yes Lila?”

“My camera broke on my way here and all I have left of it is my memory card; is there still a way for me to present my photos?”

“Of course there is. Don’t you worry a bit.”

“Perfect!” She grinned.

Once backstage, each student needed to give the teacher their SD cards or cameras and wait to be called onstage to describe their works to the audience.

Lila spared a quick glance towards the onlookers. Talent scouts of every kind were sitting in plush, reserved seats, notebooks and pens at the ready.

She was the first one up, the first one they would see and, unless she used all of her charisma and improvising skill, the first one they would forget.

“...and now, Lila Rossi with her photography!”

Lila strutted out to the greetings of applause.

“Hello, and let me just say I am so honored to be here today, especially considering that a year ago I wasn’t expected to be able to walk to school every day. Photography was really the only thing that got me through the day.”

A murmur of pity rippled through the crowd.

“Pictures like this one.” She pressed the clicker and a picture appeared on the screen behind her.

A picture of one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, mid-twirl in a beautiful hand-made dress.

Lila heard Alya gasp.

“I wanted to show simultaneously the mundanity of walking and the undeniable splendor of it. My dear friend Marinette had some designs she was willing to model for me to help achieve my goal. Marinette, come on out!” She held a hand out, daring Marinette to come out from where she was waiting to go next along with her other friends.

Felix stood behind her with a look of horror and disgust on his face; and a particularly fancy camera hanging around his neck. A very familiar camera.

“No? Okay then.” She turned back to the crowd. “She’ll be out with a different group; Mari doesn’t want me to have to share the spotlight, isn’t she sweet?”

The crowd applauded and Lila continued making up technical terms and thought processes for each photo, all of which were of Marinette in different designs.

“Thank you.” She bowed deep before walking off the stage.

Now to hold her breath and hope that Marinette, Felix and all their friends were too chicken to call her out onstage.

—

“Now, with their short film; ‘solving love,’ please welcome Bridgette Cheng, Claude Lambert, Mercury Bernard, Allegra Harthorn, Felix Culpa, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Hey everybody!” A boy with brown hair and a blue striped shirt grabbed the mic and shouted. “How are we doing today?”

A scattered amount of applause.

“Nice! I’m Claude, and this is Bridgette.”

The girl with the buns waved.

“We were the main idea folks for this video; but the idea only came after the filming.”

Bridgette grabbed the mic. “We asked out friends if we could film them, and then a few weeks ago, we reviewed the film and noticed something... interesting.”

“Allegra here,” a girl with a long blonde braid waved, “did the music and Mercury,” a boy with dark glasses and a green beret, “did the narration. You’ll be seeing more of them soon. My cousin Mari,” Marinette waved, “and Felix are the main subjects of the film. You would have seen more of them, but for some reason Felix’s memory card went missing.”

Lila swallowed, this wasn’t great. The seeds of dissent were planted and now she had to risk either spinning another fake story or hoping that it all went well.

It’s not like they had any proof though; she should be fine.

“Anyway, here’s ‘Solving Love.’”

They all stepped to the side and the video began with a smooth piano.

“Love.” The screen showed couples going up to Andre’s and sharing ice cream. “The answer to everything. To ourselves, to the meaning of life, to the questions we cannot ask.”

“But how? How do we get from complete strangers, to people so close they are the same person?” The video changed to a showing of Marinette and Felix shaking hands, both with sardonic smirks. “People rarely get to see the entire process of when people fall in love; there are always pieces missing, hidden moments only for the people in question to recall. Love is left for the investigator to discover for themselves, when the time is right.”

“But maybe,” it showed Marinette talking animatedly, as Felix yawns beside her, “maybe one day, we’ll be lucky enough to see most of the picture.” Felix’s eyes droop and his head falls to rest atop Marinette’s, in the beginnings of a nap. Marinette flushes red.

The rest of the video shows the stages of Marinette and Felix’s relationship, from sarcastic rivals, to peers, to friends, to partners. The narrator described different relationships and how love is a constant through all of them.

The video showed Marinette dancing, twirling in a brilliant dress as Felix kneels and snaps pictures. “Ah, but is this all of it?” They lean down for a swift kiss. The image pauses there. “The full picture? Or is it only a snapshot,” the screen lights up white, “a minor clue, to solving love?”

The auditorium was quiet for what seemed like minutes. Then, the room burst into uproarious applause; a standing ovation.

Lila growled as she turned to sulk and maybe get her makeup so she could fake an injury and get some pity points to heal her bruised ego.

She ran face first into the grey suit of Mr. Damocles.

“Oh, hello sir.” She beamed. “Is there a problem?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Yes Miss Rossi, there is. Did you take those pictures of Miss Dupain-Cheng? Because that video tells a different story.”

“Yes sir, I swear it.”

“You swear it, huh? Well you best come with me to the office. Miss Dupain-Cheng and her friends will join us when they’re done.”

“What?”

“Miss Rossi, you are accused of stealing Mr Culpa and Miss Dupain-Cheng’s creative work. We will be calling your mother to discuss this.”

Back on stage the crowd of students and talent agents alike had taken to shouting questions to the group of students.

[cheri-translates]

[Translated Comic] Love Language Kindergarten (Pt. 1 - Prologue)

This comic was originally created by Yvonne是半山上的汪 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 💙

🍒 Please do not repost! 🍒

-

Pt. 2: here

More translated comics: here

-

[ Permission to translate ]

Yvonne是半山上的汪: Can. Also, I hope that aside from changing the words, try not to edit the picture or watermarks.

[death-gloss]

Not gonna lie - I never had a good feeling about Amanda..Call me jealous all you like, but I got a bad vibe from her when I saw how she watermarks even pictures of Joeys house.I hoped I was wrong. But everything I've seen and learned after Joey's death has only served to prove my worst fears about her,even the dating of Dave Mustaine right before Joey...It makes me so sad on Joeys behalf,that the closest person in his life (family pushed aside) these last years seems so toxic..I wanted him happy

I'll admit, my pettiest beef with Amanda in relation to her photos was her airbrushing Joey. My man pissed in his pants and was in his 40s why was he on her stories looking like a snapchat filter gone sentient LMAO. So highly contrasted too, if she did that to make them entirely unusable for any fans she got the right idea.

I'm right with you though i didn't know any of this stuff beforehand, i just wanted him happy as well. And he looked happy at least but..yknow... real good showcase that people will post the best aspects of their life and it could be entirely different behind closed doors. I wish he knew he was so loved.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 20.1)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

DOUBLE UPDATE FOR A WEEK Y’ALL! MWAH MWAH! PLEASE DO LEAVE A FEEDBACK BEFORE YOU GO---OR MAYBE A REBLOG WILL BE NICE FOR MY EFFORT. Hehehe. Thank y’all!

CHAPTER 20

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Sometimes other people's stories were actually not just a tale of fantasies when the protagonist in the story can't even give you an answer to soothe your insecurity, curiosity and fear over being alone in a dimension you didn't belong in.

Warnings: Soft, touchy and caring Geralt. Insecure and anxious reader. Brooding witcher. Baths with the witcher? Mention of Yennefer. Nudity. Angst. Geralt being too blunt and saying...things. Heh. Don't hate him later please? 😥😘 Mention of Parallel Universe. Doppelganger. Ingrith is just a character I made up, alright? she ain't a part of Yennefer's story in the games, books or show. 

Words: 7.6k

A/N: So, Yeap. I wanted to leave ya with all these angst. Hehehe. COMMENTS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED! MWAH! *waits for comments about people cursing Geralt lmao 😂😂* @casualfansoul​​ You’ve been such a sweetheart! BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SWEETIE! I hope you’ll love this chapter dedicated to you! Mwah! 

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! This is kinda a rough draft. I apologize for many errors.

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi. Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be.(Credits to those who made the GIF’s. Some don’t have their watermarks included. I don’t remember where I’ve saved the others from)

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

"Will you tell me why you are utterly cranky all of a sudden?"

Face to face with the rim of the wooden bath, you've had your knotted brows in a twist. Pout oh-so-long that Geralt knew as he sat behind you, seeking answers for your upset state. He'd gotten you out of your clothes; forcefully must you say. Earning a glare from him as he was peeling your clothes away like he was caring for his sick, pouty child.

No complaints were accepted as he'd given you the idea to care for your wounds in the tub. Downright secretive about wanting to feel the comfort of your nudity grazing against his without any monkey business going on.

The witcher has received constant grumbles and whines of protests as he poured the potent medicine that evaporated through the fresh wounds; painful enough for you to shriek while his arm surrounding your waist tightened with every whimper of your sobbing self; shushing your cries with a soft coo of his endearment on your ear and the feathery nuzzle of his nose against that tiny spot behind your ear while he soothes your pains.

They've fully had injured your back with more than just wallops. He'd knew by the looks of the lesions, the people in the castle has even burnt your skin with metal; scorching metal that has given you scars that would forever haunt oneself. The mere thought tormenting him by their brutal punishments; keeping him all in wonder when he has never received any violent retorts and schemes from you as they did everything in their willpower to strike a hand. Your submission making the witcher glower behind as Geralt caught sight of such deep wounds whilst taking off the gauze; seeing blood seeping out of the healing skin as it was a sign that he really and badly needed to treat your body.

Sobs were emitted while he watched your wounds dry from the potion he'd mix, receiving kisses on the cold, sweating nape of yours every now and then. A gesture that Geralt started doing when you were shrieking in the midst of being poured by such elixir while you felt his breath on your skin. Sweetly kissing through your pain and lowly humming that you were going to be okay and you've been good.

It felt like all the energy downed on you after he'd stop and was done pouring the elixir everywhere around your body. The warm water lining on your chest turned colder when you've slowly leaned your back on Geralt, hissing from the soreness but actually ending up loving the warmth that he could only give while he kept his burly arm around you, your lips still in a pout while staring at the bed from the far corner of the room; basking in the witcher's silence before he asked.

His question gotten you unready for an honest answer as he bluntly shot the query out, planning to resolve the problem with you in the best way that he thought. Being forthright.

"Hmm." you hummed back in displeasure, sounding exactly the same like how he does.

The corner of his lips lifted in a small smirk, his voice vibrating at the back of your head and against his chest. The buzz keeping you calm and at ease rather than being alone in the castle when he haven't arrived yet. Your anxiety giving you such trauma that made you want to sob again.

But, Geralt's distraction to stifle your cries has technically been useful when he felt you sigh again, watching your face from above and behind to see a frown etching to grow. He heedlessly fetched a cup of water with the palm of his hand, delicately pouring your cheek with water as he gruffly quipped.

"That's my line. Not yours, Midget."

Geralt repeated his gestures with you, lightly damping your hair with water as he gently brushed your tousled wet hair with the spaces of his fingers, keeping them light and comforting which made you lean back a lot more, accepting his gentleness after being physically whacked in harsh moments prior before he came around---your purpose of being upset has now been forgotten by his unfamiliar gestures that was tickling your spine with ants racing on your skin because of how his actions was giving you cavity. A sweet tooth.

Just being held so softly felt good in real life---you didn't know how comforting it feels even back in earth, but right now was just the right time to feel how you would yearn for it when Geralt wouldn't be around.

"I told you, before I even realized that you were important to me was after you've made a wish to the Djinn."

Your swollen cheek fell on the skin of his biceps; sighing while you stared out of nowhere and finally held onto his arm surrounding your waist, keeping you still and steady in his arms. His nudity becoming not much of a problem for you now because it was an experience that you could never forget; eventually having the privilege in familiarizing his body just like how a lover does while he did the same to you.

Though, his imperfect beauty could still get you blushing nevertheless as he liked seeing yours no matter how insecure you get---but he seemed to admire your nakedness a lot which he received with a 'men versus boobs' explanation that his kind of gender would always love the idea of breasts no matter how big or small as the same goes for a vagina.

You'd received a pleased hum after that and also some horny witcher begging and trying his best to get your clothes off in his sneaky techniques.

"I know. I'm sorry I was cranky, Geralt."

The white wet-haired witcher pursed his lips, looking down at your face as you've felt his gaze heavy while he calmly spoke.

"It's...alright. But, must it be for Eanraig to see and hear?"

You've given him another sincere, sweet and soft apology. Caressing your thumb over the top of his scarred hand which was under the waters and he'd let you graze over the tiniest marks on his fingers and palms, swaying under the bath water. Breathing calm and collected while he stayed in bath with you; cherishing such moment again that could get his chest feeling the lightest out of all the times he lived in the continent; more freeing to than the one he had with a particular sorceress whom he had also been connected with; via Djinn.

His free hand lifted away from leaning onto the edge of the tub, reaching down to sweep your hair to the side. Clearing the space on your neck and such wounds from the shoulder blades, others being a scar from his potent medicine that he has poured.

"I remembered your skin clearly in the back of my head. Thoroughly silk like a bairn's bum,"

He paused, prolonging the silence as he gently danced his fingers on the skin of your shoulders; too tender that it began to lick your spine, igniting the tiniest shiver when you've felt the soft, warm feathery feeling of his lips giving your painted shoulder a peck of his specific comfort that he only gives to people who have turned his world a much better place than how much of a hell it has been.

"Now, you are scarred." Geralt grumbled against your skin, giving one last kiss and making everything all worth while as he was still around. Continuously denouncing what they've done to his family---even beating Jaskier to pulp.

"---They've...turned you like me,"

You've slightly turned your head to see his amber eyes withdrawn from reality. Thoughts probably plaguing his mind while he scowled. A simple purse of your lips, suggesting to receive a small, quick buss has Geralt dipping his head down to sweetly smack your lips to his, letting him feel that you were there; finally there with him physically and he didn't need to worry.

Thus, it was just like that. Geralt and his presence, including such soft gestures that you rarely receive nor see that he does for anyone and a soundly kiss has let the upset feelings go away, simply just like that.

Even though, he has never confessed any love yet---this was forging you both to understand what connection you have for each other. Though, clearly unspecific and undistinguished. Or was this his type of love? a love never needed to be told for it can be felt?

The question here, does he even love you? was this love?

Partially turning around in his arms to see him gazing back at you, Geralt seemed to be nonplussed and introverted with his thoughts. Keeping words to himself while he was giving you a solemn frown of his face, examining your swollen eye that you tried pulling him out of his regret and blames with a quirky tone of your voice; sounding like nothing has happened to you nor have you been battered to bruising limbs.

"When are you going to leave?"

"After I take care of you, midget." he deeply murmured, watching you like a hawk with golden eyes as the candle light was making his eyes glow prettier than usual. You grabbed a handful amount of water with your palms, arms sore as you reached up to pour water on his face that surely gotten a deep, complain of his humming when it made him close his eyes from the uninvited rainfalls of liquid.

The fading colored grime has been softly scrubbed off by the pad of your damp thumbs over the apples of his cheeks. His gaze was utmost heavy, shooting you a warm, loving sensation on your chest; surrounding the fading Cicatrix that somehow turned insipid after the nights before with the witcher.

You couldn't help but notice his grouching and grumpy self as he scanned your face with an affectionate flicker in his amber that made you tut. The gentleness you were giving was a thorough unfamiliar feeling he always received from you despite of your negative characteristics---though, he doesn't mind it at all---sometimes, he does but that was beyond the point when he felt comfort from you and aspire to give it back despite of not knowing what and how comfort is to a witcher.

"Stop being such a wild cat---Let me guess, you haven't gotten to have your nap again?"

Geralt huffed out a breath of complaint. A short, low growl that made you giggle quickly when you wiped his face with your fingers; playfully glaring at how you were bathing him.

"When did I ever?"

"It seems like you haven't had it last night again---Stop scowling like you want to strangle me," you lightly poked the dimples of his nose that got him deeply growling his protests. His expressions completely emotionless as he turned his face to avoid your play-time; considering on biting your fingers off to stop annoying the heck out of him.

Howbeit, Geralt went on in silently letting you touch his face. Mesmerized by how his scars really never affected his beauty and probably added perfection over his gorgeousness. The witcher mutely let you trace the bridge of his nose and the scars on his face whilst intently staring at your face in return.

"---Until you came along," he surprisingly continued the topic, never breaking his gaze as he'd seen you lean closer to his face. The tangy scent he was familiar in recognizing from you, mixing with the medicine on your skin. Yet, it didn't stop him to wait for what you had in mind. Your bruised, healing lips brushing against his that made both of your chests tingly for over such sweet intimacy that you've both eventually become accustomed with.

Geralt pursed his lips for your thirsts to calm down; such desperate feeling that both parties yearned for. A twee, syrupy connection of your lips on his---a kiss that made warmth spread through you like an angel's halo trying to make you holy and worth for his affections.

Men in your world will certainly not impress you anymore. Geralt of Rivia has raised the bars of what men should be---he'd ruined the normality of what you expected from such gender because you believed that they may not reach the level of what you've felt for him.

Love as you may see now.

But, it can be quite blurry of a picture for a future that you do not hold or knew how it'll be for the both of you because you've teleported as a miracle that nobody expected to receive.

"If I---If I die---" your pessimist self started to run your mouth over Geralt. Yet, he was quick to cut you off with a sullen chide and an avoidance of your gaze with a grumpy sigh.

"Stop. Don't." he groused with the mouth ends pulled down, "---You're not going to die,"

"What if I do?"

His eyes turned penetrating as if he wanted to tell how much you are wrong about that argument. Those cat-eyes of his; sharp and making a stand for the idea he didn't want to accept.

"I will never let that happen. They can have me hunt down whatever they want, even slice a throat of a nobleman or a monster but I will never let anything happen to you,"

The witcher gently scooped water with a palm of his hand, pouring them over your face. Coming forth with a scrub of it as he shoved his large palm that made you shriek against his hold while he lightly scoured your face as a gesture to clean you more inside the bath; avoiding your healing bruises.

"---I don't want to hear that again while I give you a bath,"

Darkness suddenly turned into seeing Geralt's stony stare after being suffocated by his hand that was suddenly shoved on your face, "I'm sorry," you immediately tried to woo over his vexation, your face wet from the bath water he tried to rinse you in, an involuntary response of your arms slipping around his bare waist shocked your consciousness because of how touchy-feely you've become around him.

The latter welcomed your apology and touches, humming in appeasement for your quick sorry; knowing your way with him and reading that he could not tolerate such physical-contact from you without liking the feel of your skin, you've leaned your body more to him---your naked chests flushed together that got him curling his lips in a small smile whilst feeling your forehead fall on the side of his neck, nuzzling with an apology.

"I-I didn't mean to upset you,"

Quietude embraced you both. Sitting in a tub. Entirely bare for each other to see but it was so wholesome for the betterment of your relationship with him; nurturing what understanding you both have for each other, not entirely specific nor knowing what it is. As a matter of fact, you do know what you felt for him, but not the other way around.

"She..She isn't a queen in my world,"

Bamboozle screamed inside his eyes for your statement, his fingers gliding along the small of your back under the waters as he hummed in curiosity.

"Hmm?"

You've remember the time that the queen has visited your cell. Retched between the hatch of the door came in view was your kind boss who wore the finest set of golden, silk, long gown with rich trimmings. She stopped by to check on your victimized state with a glaze of ignorance in her eyes. She didn't care for your condition because if so, she wouldn't have left the slammer with a quiet scoff.

Out of all the people who could turn out evil was a queen in Geralt's world and a boss you've highly given respect to.

Nonetheless, in this world; it seemed to be like the opposite personalities of how people had been in your world.

"Your queen. Queen Makeda. She's named Angela Cincinnati. The boss of mine who also works in the pizza parlor that I'm in,"

Geralt has leaned back on the edge of the tub in a relaxed posture, lifting his other hand every now and then to pour water on your hair that tickled your insides because of how cold the water has been already. His warmth being your therapy while thinking such hypothetical answers for what mysteries that the continent has been giving you. Jotting down possibilities that a typical earthling could try to guess like they were watching a very interesting movie.

"Does this mean I have someone who looks like me in this world too?" pause. "---Does she have a better life than me?"

Your witcher cocked his head to the side as he was in deep thought over the woman who looked like you. His mouth opening and closing for whatever shit he wanted to say because Savia has been the person who ruined your future by creating such crimes being pointed at you because you looked like her twin.

"Worse. I can say that you had a better life than her and also complicated yours at the same time," he gravely informed.

"My doppelganger then? have you already seen her?"

"Will you try to find her if I say yes?"

"No. I...don't wanna scare her with this drama movie I'm in."

You've leaned away from Geralt and his consoling cuddles, trying hard to rip your body away from him when all you wanted was to bask in his own embrace. Splashing your face with more bath water, he'd given you a curious glint of his eyes. Fixating his gaze on your bare form, subtly sliding his focus on the depths of your neck and wanting nothing more than to give more sweet busses of care. Geralt ignored the modern reference you've muttered about being in a movie and found it more interesting to appreciate the nudity you've freely have been giving him.

It's not like you were naked all the time. The witcher snickered to himself; appreciating the best view of you that he can ever get.

"The water's cold now. Are we done?" you softly whispered, the thought of your doppelganger out there; like a twin from another mother and dimension that you didn't expect to have. It was interesting to know, but frightening to actually see the real her because people like your doppelganger who lived in the medieval era might not be a great sight for the woman.

Geralt grabbed onto the end of the tub, whisking a thin, Ivory robe that was made of silk as he deeply grumbled, "Stand."

You've stood on your feet, hopping off the tub entirely dripping wet from the bath water; feeling eyes heavy on your body and raking over your nudity from behind. The heat started to rise up your face again, making you clear your throat when you've turned your body to grab onto the robe that Geralt has reached out for you. His keen peepers grabbing the chance to shamelessly rake your body in silence.

He'd received no refusal or a loud scolding after thinking it through that he had the liberty of doing so; also, the idea being a gift after trying to protect you from any harm and sacrificing over an endless hunt just for the Kaedwenians to cease their punishments.

"Hmm. A movie. I missed watching one. Though, It's not like if I ask you to go on a date with me again, Geralt---A movie date this time---watching a movie with you will never happen," you turned your head at your front, slipping your arms inside the short sleeves while tightening the knot around your waist; frowning when the witcher couldn't see your face. The truth beginning to bother you when problems began to rise and for such abrupt topic that lingered along your consciousness.

"---Because you and I both live in different worlds, it's like they collide."

Geralt kept his mouth hushed. The loud splash of water echoing around the room when he left the wooden tub; strolling behind to promenade past you. His stark-naked self never bothering him after the night you both had each other. Basking in more of his nudity especially when he slept; knowing that he was mentally complaining over how reserved he needed to be while you slept beside him, his clothes very uncomfortable because of the heat he was feeling.

Basically, he did not know the meaning of clothes after the night of ravish; constantly taking his slumbers in the nude as he covertly tried to wrench them off you as well with his witcher needs.

His bare back and derriere was displayed before you, the distinct foramen of his brawny back giving you a loud greeting as he grabbed onto his trousers on the end of the bed, lending his ear and slipping on his leather pants that was bursting through the seams because of his thick thunder thighs and curvacious derriere.

"My world and yours, they sound like a parallel universe that I completely don't understand even back in earth, it's too complicated to know---too scientific for my thriving brain,"

Quick panic-stricken questions were sent to the witcher; the motion of the words hasty and apprehensive because of such negative ideas forming inside your head; skyrocketing like a plague in your mind while Geralt wore his breeches, not trying to take cover in front of you.

You couldn't help but shift your eyes constantly at Geralt and the queen sized bed, his gigantic biceps straining along his movements while buttoning his pants; lowly grunting from each pull of the hem to fit his curvaceous, muscled arse that you couldn't help but clear your throat, forgetting what you needed to say for a second and being distracted over your trembling anxiety.

You eyes took heed of the opened windows where the brisk wind was slipping in a breeze, seeing how you could see the pale moon from afar. A guess telling you that the room was in a high place. In a few short strides, you've looked out of the window, peering up the Tartarean night sky to meet the moon in its full glory, finding no flaw that you were in a different planet and not yours.

Confusing and complicated to understand in your human perspective because nothing human was basically being shown as you lived in their world.

"This...This is your earth. Your continent. While my earth out there also exists without any one of you knowing. What if I have a count down while I stay in your world---what will happen to me---would I get to stay alive forever in this world when I have been too dependent over you?"

Heavy strides alarmed you for Geralt's presence who loomed behind your back. His mouth curled down when he has heard your questions; feeling no trust in between you both, hesitance scrambling your way and filling your heart when it hasn't been there before you even came to the castle. It was baffling him for your curiosity and determined self to seek answers when he has no answer to it at all.

The sorceress has probably told stuff to you, he silently thought as he brushed a hand over your arm and clothed shoulder. The roughness of his palm colliding against your bruised ones as he tries his best to provide what you needed; not knowing what because of how he does not understand this kind of relationship with women because it has always been typically greed, lust or a needed release to calm his overly mutations.

Except for you, Yennefer or Renfri because he actually really cares.

"Do you not want me to protect you?" he gravely mumbled behind, seeming to be slightly taking umbrage after hearing the queries.

"You're only doing this because you have no other choice just like how you've told the king that I was your betrothed when it isn't true at all,"

How sure were you to say that it wasn't true?

Reflecting and debating his thoughts over your judgement, Geralt marred an agonized frown that creased his forehead. He rarely does claim such label but he didn't regret the action after hearing how it made the king lessen the punishments for you; excluding all planned damnation. The witcher had no explanations about the moment he had called you his betrothed nor did he want whatever you were thinking about his actions.

Hence, it instantly made him cantankerous when he hasn't been feeling it before you opened that mouth of yours again.

"You think I have done it with a purpose I don't understand," he incoherently rumbled in his baritone timbre. Slightly pulling away from his own touch on yours to turn around and walk through the end of the bed to wear and grab onto his armor and under shirt, half naked with a straining back; all rigid and stressing under the skin.

"Geralt---"

"With the mishaps of my world and yours, if I ask you to stay; will you leave your kingdom?"

He'd turn his foot around to see him slip the under tunic over his head, the scowl prominent making him appear stony; dour and solemn. His eyes eager while it reflects the candle light on the side of the bed. Reading through the golden hues lay a pining greed that the witcher never knew he craves for; such hungering he does not know that he wanted to find and receive when it was his own faults over not having it because when he feels a deeper connection with someone, the white wolf suddenly becomes disfunctional; pushing her away because of not spitting the truth about his feelings.

He was capable of it; having feelings over another. Love as people may describe but he was in denial and can be reflective, the processing quite slower than usual because he had never received love through out his lifetime; not even a mother who actually cared.

No one.

You didn't understand him; what he really wanted to say or do because his words were spoken on a race track, passing through the chuckholes that could get you knowing what his true feelings were.

Was he letting you stay out of love or out of pity that you were lost, vulnerable and needed adoption?

"Do you believe in love, Geralt?" you've countered back, feeling the warmth spread around your chest for skipping around bushes over the real meaning behind your words; sounding like a confession if he was smart enough. The warmth spreading through like wildfire, scathing your skin as it felt like it was burning from the reality you were seeing.

"---Or are you only doing this because of the Djinn incident? you're only feeling this way for me because I came around while Yennefer isn't?"

The latter gave a grim frown upon the mention of her name. Just like how he always does when Jaskier says her name when it shouldn't been uttered. Now, it was your turn to give a grouch. Your feigned smile joyless when Geralt was unblinking from your unexpected argument.

Was this true love you have with him? Did he even feel the same way when he can't even say the word at all? or will you both hate each other until it grows into spite?

Will you eventually be killed by the hands of a man you love as said by Eanraig's understanding over the curse set between?

"I've heard from the sorceress that you have been finding Yennefer from her a month before I came along and that this connection I had with you also had been the same with that Vengerberg. What if she comes back around? what will happen to me?"

Ingrith has said more information than you can bear. You weren't just physically pained but also mentally as well for whatever bullcrap she wanted to address. Palms over your ears were the only solution to shut the truth off as it echoed around the dungeon. She'd smirked when you've whimpered from the stones, the back of your sweater drenched in blood for using hardened sticks which had pointy twigs; never believing what they were doing to you as they also tried to throughly kick your stomach.

The men who were ordered to do so had no idea why they've been commanded to batter your torso, but you knew it had something to be involved with the cunning sorceress because of how she'd given another dagger of her gaze lingering on your middle like you would magically grow a baby inside of it when it was impossible from the start because of Geralt's infertility.

The witcher was like a bomb about to detonate. Though, the explosion never came other than a tight clench of his jaw. Geralt was wearing a lour like a bad omen over being interrogated; debating over answering the confusing truth that left him debating over himself as well. He has never remembered the sorceress until you've mentioned her; remembering that he'd taken full measures to even try finding Yennefer's long lost cousin for a plan to get back with her and earning nothing in return.

"You're blathering complete nonsense, Midget. You've also been listening to Ingrith when I told you not to. She's cunning and will do anything to ruin you---kill you,"

Your mouth turned upside down; tighter and pensive for being swerved again, "You didn't answer my question." an exasperated huff was let out, "---she was once important to you. I've heard from your bard; you had adventures with her, shared powerful moments that are exactly the opposite of what we are having---she's the first woman you've loved. A powerful, independent lady that you will never regret having in your life because she can defend everyone---and I'm...just me,"

You didn't know what has gotten to you. The insecurities lighting up the sky, constantly reminding you that his existence can be a mere catch of your dreams because he was too good to be true---or jealousy infecting your blood into thinking that he would leave you alone when he never had yet?

Perhaps, it may be how proud Jaskier has told you that she was powerful that it has intimidated you. Her name seems to be beautiful and there was no doubt she was when he has been avoiding of hearing her name.

He had probably been devoted of Yennefer when a tight frown couldn't be erased upon the lips you have been kissing---thoughtlessly thinking that it was genuine or had any meaning to it.

"Really, what am I to you? "

"My home. Also equally important."

"More important than her? Do you dream of her?"

"You know I don't---not anymore."

Not anymore, he said. So, he does dream of her before.

Crossing your arms over your chest, your fingers went straight to the sleeves, anxiously rubbing over the silk against each other for the dreading beats of your heart, your eyes turning to look away as you quietly spoke; highly aware of an expected rejection.

"If I tell you what I really feel about you, will you give me an answer?" you softly spoke to the chilly air embracing your fidgety form.

"---Because then, you will know my answer about staying in this world you're in."

You've turned your head to see him wearing a permanent pucker of his brows, veiled with furrows of indifference and a look of betrayal. Your bluntness being a detriment because of giving an indefinite answer as well, avoiding his question and misunderstanding the sour expression on your face a while ago.

"Is it hate? Disgust?" he gruffly gnarled. His attitude turning colder like an executioner's ax, unaware of the slight wince on your face because of how glazed he appeared to be.

"---because I am highly aware of what people see of me. I am at loss for what Ingrith must've told; lies or what may result that I am seeing you look at me like I've cast the Djinn's curse on you when you have never looked at me like that at all,"

He spat those words with a sardonic drip of his tongue. The frown darkening his expression more than it ever was.

"Don't blame me on this one, Geralt. Don't shift my words like I think so lowly of you when you and I both don't know the real deal between us with the Djinn incident,"

Geralt loudly exhaled his breath through his nose, marching towards you with the face of an angry ape. Disbelieving what he was comprehending from you, saying that what you shared was beyond reality; like he has been told by it the second time. Your words inconspicuous of loudly saying that maybe what you were both feeling was magic after all; having the presence of the Djinn around  for another relationship that he was having.

"You don't want to stay," he ceased his footsteps, looming before you. His irritation suddenly intimidating like a bulldozer when you realized he was bigger than he could get if he was mad at whatever you've done; or probably it was just your point of view because you were feeling small over his blaring anger.

"---Isn't that what you wanted to say?" Geralt emphasized much clearer this time, drawling his words with a hopeful hint that he just misunderstood you and he was right.

"What---? I didn't even said that! Give me a reason to stay then! I am in shambles for your way of thinking right now!"

He had a wide-legged stance; leaning onto more of your personal space while his Aureate eyes deeply stared into yours. Volatile and blazing as it looked like a fixed glare, baring his teeth as it curled---his fangs slipping through as he bluntly spoke.

"You aren't being entirely forthright,"

You couldn't help but cross your arms tighter against your chest, shuffling on your feet as you mentally gasp from his retort. Defensive as his attitude was beginning to irritate you too.

"Well, you aren't being forthright too!"

Geralt huffed before you. Momentarily scoping out the ceilings before peering down and staring right back with blazing peepers. Though, the witcher has never raised his voice on you when you've did. But, you knew he was fuming; seething deep inside, "I don't know what's wrong with you." he gravely mumbled to himself, steaming up from your sudden, churlish attitude.

"---you're a cherub for a while then acting hostile the next. Is this your pathetic insecurity talking or you just hate me all of a sudden?"

Your eyes instantly went wide open and jaw falling slack at how he'd open his mouth. Raising a finger to his chest as you slightly backed away.

"You're calling my insecurity pathetic?" you uttered in disbelief, swallowing hard for having to hear him be this way---though, you knew he was capable of being such because of how blunt he was. But, he was never mean to you as much as calling your insecurity pathetic. Tight lips were given to the witcher who had his chest puffed out for his own frustrations and repulse.

"---Also, aren't you the one who said that maybe this whole thing is actually just the Djinn effects before you've even---! Even---!?" put his pickle in a jar. Wreck the punani. Ravished you in bed. Shared Netflix and Chill despite having no Netflix in their world.

You shook your head for stammering, quietly growling for the annoyance he'd given after basically taking care of you---expecting that it was done out of love, just like how you've first initially thought of staying forever by his side when he has asked you to stay in their world regardless of the consequences and disadvantages.

"What's next then? My anxiety is childish for you too? nonsense?" pause. "---You don't even know what I mean---and even have no idea about what feelings I was talking about. You can't even tell me what happened between you and Yennefer without disregarding my question or avoiding the topic---or even cut Jaskier off!"

Standing akimbo, you've narrowed your eyes, tilting your chin to the fullest because of his skyscraper height. The displeasure shown from how your nose was twisted and from how you couldn't control your mouth from taking a marathon.

"If I shut up and never question you about things anymore then it just means that I don't care for you at all when I do so badly. Do you know what this means to me? Nobody has plagued my mind so hard---no other man has filled my mind with crazed thoughts. In my world, this means that I---"

Geralt immediately cut you off. His teeth bared and jaw set as he interrupted you out of the blue, catching you off guard.

"It must be for the better then," he rasped, clearly disgruntled for what he should respond to the quick blatter of your brain. His mind gripping so hard like wires being tightened.

"---It must be for the better that you tighten that mouth of yours because you don't know when to shut up sometimes,"

Geralt had a cloudy countenance from his sudden bark. Suddenly forgetting how to respond after hearing every word inside his head. He shouldn't have cut you off especially when you were about to say your secret---the one you've been delibitating over countless of times inside your head; making everything sure before saying those heartfelt words because it was three words that meant the world to you as it will be the first.

Yet, the witcher had to fuck everything up with his petulant mood.

Your clenched fists turned slack. Expression stolid with your throat tightly swallowing the bane sipping through your esophagus like it was being punished for even hoarding all your confidence over confessing what you've felt for the white wolf. You've rapidly blinked your hazy, cloudy eyes; your chest tightening because it was reading 'rejection' because of how Geralt wanted you to shut up.

Maybe, he didn't need to hear the confession at all.

Eyes cast downward; feeling the medicines he'd given you seep through your skin and making everything numb. You didn't expect the concoction to also numb your fragile heart, experiencing your first heart break. Your palms turned clammy over tightening them over. Passing beside Geralt and avoiding those eyes that was thoroughly regretting what has been said, the bed may seem to be a better place to faint on and cry yourself through the night rather than his comforting arms that you wouldn't get to reject if he'd say his apologies, trying to stop you from crying.

Hurriedly hiding your face away from him, you've sat on the bed with your back away from him. Your face like rain experiencing in the middle of thunder, utterly gloomy and despair for reading the signs in the opposite of what you didn't expect. Forgetting that love shouldn't be filled with expectations so disappointments may be less.

Your toes were scuffing against the carpet with a voice turning smaller, shaky as the tears were threatening to fall and it would be when Geralt decides to talk.

"I hope you didn't say that but...but considering my profound hearing tonight and how angry you made me feel, I suggest that you take care of that monster hunting of yours. I sincerely hope you find that witch. You can throw me away soon so you couldn't hear anything from me again, Geralt. You want me to zip it? I'll zip it, then. Don't bother talking to me if you genuinely don't want to,"

Everything would be perfect. This would've been a utopian scenery when your leading man decides to wrap his arms around you, comforting you from the verge of crying your heart out for his mistakes or for both of yours. But, Geralt was no leading man or a prince that he was highly opposing of. He was beyond repair or a man whom you needed to understand more than any normal one should because of how he was raised and created.

Geralt of Rivia was a witcher you couldn't understand. Hence, he was more human than he could ever get as he decided to be unresponsive. Silent and basking in his own regret. Just like a new potion he'd recently encountered, trying to decipher how it worked---knowing the ingredients to get you simmering down in no time.

It was a wrong word to say. Geralt was sure of it. He was beginning to argue with himself, grinding his own teeth together when he has seen your posture slouch. Your fingers fiddling with the sheets of the mattress, tightly holding them in your hands as you looked outside of the window from the side of the bed, avoiding his eyes.

Then, he heard familiar padded footsteps coming forth outside the doors of your chambers.

Eanraig. He was being requested to be seen for his upcoming hunt in a few hours.

Geralt was dreading to leave you in a state like this because he knew you were mad.

He heard loud taps against the locked door which has subtly make you turn your head towards the doorway without wholly turning your body. A frustrated growl reverberated around the four corners of the room---it was Geralt.

The latter tightly closed his fists on his sides, shooting daggers on your back who avoided giving him attention after his fuming episode, hearing the word 'fuck' slipping through his lips in such an exasperated bark to himself while he padded through the room and grabbed onto his belongings; his weapons and his resentment for such an argument that you blocked him in after receiving a petty, personal attack.

You've heard the lock sliding out of its hook. Swiftly turning on your bed, Geralt was already paving his way out of the door, heavily marching and begrudging. He'd open the door to reveal Eanraig raising an arm to knock a little more louder.

"The king requests for you, Geralt---"

The witcher gave a displeased, unmannerly grumble of his chest. A hum that surely given the druid an understanding that he was not in the best mood to talk, passing through Eanraig as he went straight out of the door with the nastiest scowl he has seen since the moment he arrived.

Lovers Quarrel. He mindlessly thought to himself, watching the witcher strut away and along the stoned hallways like he was bringing all the storm with him. Nobody would notice he was aggravated if they knew him better.

Eanraig quietly shut the door behind him, his eyes meeting your bleary ones that complimented the pouty frown growing more and more when you've realized Geralt left you all mad, never even intending to comfort you, ask what 'feelings' you meant or even bother to tell you that he didn't mean you were pathetic.

In a flash, you've gotten a queasy feeling inside of your stomach which made you grab onto your mouth, your face flinching as you suddenly stood up on your feet, "Little woman," the druid sauntered to where you've strolled---before the open windows as you shot your head out of it, retching after a little while before he was beside you, calmly patting your back to make you feel better.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just...nauseous. Thank you, Eanraig." wiping your mouth with the back of your palm, you've heaved exhausted breaths while the druid ushered you to sit on the bed. Talking in the midst of it, assuring him that it was nothing but just a stomach bug and feeling weary over it, "---Probably because they've beaten me to pulp,"

The Druid earnestly stared upon your pale face. Hands shaky as you grab onto the soft sheets, softly grazing them beneath the pad of your fingers, caressing with such feeble strength. Eanraig scrutinized your condition as you turned your head away with a face falling over your current fight with the witcher.

The latter languidly sat beside you, a genuine smile turning his eyes into crescent shapes that tells he was intrigued and amused over what signs was receiving from you especially the warm, tender aura radiating off you; more than what you can offer like you came in two's.

"Will you wholeheartedly accept the responsibility of being the mother of your witcher's child, little one?"

I hope you loved the double update, bb’s! FEEDBACKS ARE SO APPRECIATED!

Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means you couldn’t be tagged, Bb. Please check your settings) @alyxkbrl​​​​ @himarisolace​​​​ @barkingbullfrog​​​​ @ayamenimthiriel​​​​ @hellodevilslittlesister​ @turkish276​​​​ @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us​​​​ @nympeth​​​​ @amirahiddleston​​​​ @gabethelobster​​​​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​​​ @uncoolcloudyhead​​​​ @melaninstylezz​​​​ @psychosupernaturalhero​​​​ @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer​​​ @marvelousell​​​​ @kingniazx​​​​ @angelias134​​​​ @tapismyforte​​​​ @chook007​​​​ @covid-donotenter​​​​ @deadlydemon​​​​ @cheesecakeisapie​​​​ @angelofthor​​​​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum @stuckupstucky​​​​, @shesthelastjedi​​​​, @a–1–1–3, @gutfucks​​​​, @britty443​​​​,  @suhke3​​​​, @shadowclawstudio88​​​​  @ruthoakenshield​​​

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​​​​, @crazybutconfidentaf​​​​​

General taglist for Henry Cavill: @agniavateira​​​​​, @iloveyouyen​​​​​, @rahdaleigh​​​​​, @silverkitten547​​​​ @henrythickcavill​​​​ @kaatelyyynn​​​  @madelinelina​​​, @summersong69​​​, @raynosaurus-rex​

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #461

“this city looks so pretty, do you wanna burn it with me?”

Have you ever wanted a Nikon camera? Or do you have one already? My camera before the one I have now was a Nikon D3200. I use a Canon now. Who was the last person (if anyone) you said Happy Birthday to? A friend. Do you have Photoshop? If so, how often a day do you use it? I have it, but I barely use it nowadays. I use it to edit photos for character profiles or profile pictures, add a watermark for my actual photography, and I used to make Mark-oriented gifs like crazy. They mostly did really well, so... I might wanna get back into that and get That Sweet Validation. Do you watch any shows that you know your parents wouldn’t approve of? No. Have any of your exes gotten married or had kids since your breakup? None, I think. Do either of your parents have a mental illness? My mom has depression. Can you tolerate children for a long period of time? NO. Have you ever lived with someone you felt thoroughly uncomfortable around? No. Are you into dubstep? Yeah, I tend to enjoy it. Zelda or The Sims games? Can I pick neither? lol I don't feel very much at all for The Sims, and Zelda games have always looked... boring to me? Like I've watched most of the Game Grumps' playthroughs of all the games, and they make it hilarious of course, but the games themselves? Nah. Are you terrible at assigning bands their proper genre? YES YES YES YES YES YES. Even in my preferred category, that being metal, FUCK if I know the sub-genre. Have you ever made out in a closet? No, that shit sounds claustrophobic as hell. Have you ever been to a laser tag place? Yeah, on a triple-date once! It was SO fun. How do you wanna celebrate your next birthday? Have a couple friends over, pig out at The Cheesecake Factory. o3o Do you tease your parents about them being old? No, especially not Mom. She's self-conscious about getting older. Are you in love with someone? "In love" is a bit too far, buddy. But I love someone. Have you ever ridden a unicycle? No. Have you ever wanted a pet bunny? I was VERY serious about getting a lop-eared bunny for quite a while, but we just couldn't afford to adopt one (even off Craigslist) and get a cage for it, toys, etc. Are the bottom of your feet clean? I HATE seeing the bottom of my feet. Not because they're dirty, but because it's Callus City. I ain't even fuckin jokin'. Do you like really salty food? Yeah. :x When’s the last time you bled a lot? Well, I just recently finished my cycle after not menstruating for three or four MONTHS, so you can figure that one out. Have you ever watched a needle go into your own skin? Yeah. I like to know exactly when it's coming. Have you ever seen someone get a piercing/tattoo? Yes to both. When you’re done eating finger foods, do you usually lick your fingers? Usually kasdjlf;kalsdjf shut up ok I like food. What’s the most racist thing you have ever said? As a little kid, when my really good friend (a neighborhood kid, even) asked if he thought we'd be a good couple, I told him no because "blacks and whites don't date" or something like that. It was an idea I'd never been exposed to before; the idea was so foreign to little kid me. I had no idea I was being racist. It ended in a small fight and we didn't talk for a few days 'til he came to my house telling Mom that he had to "be a man" and fix this and if that ain't the cUTEST SHIT RIGHT THERE. We were friends again after that. He's still on my Facebook, and he actually semi-recently got married! :') Do you know someone that is mute, deaf or blind? No. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? No. Does weed smell good? Or no? Ugh, no. Where do you see your closest friend in ten years? Successful and happy she kept pushing. Mama to so many reptiles that are blessed with the best lives possible in human care. Got at least one amazing book out there. If she's reading this, you've fucking got this. <3 Would you like to have twins? Mother of fucking god, no. Even if I WANTED kids, do fucking not give me twins. Who was the last person you got into an argument with? My mom. Want to have kids before you’re 30? Once again, I don't want kids, but IF I did, that'd be preferable before the risk of birth defects and other issues climb with age. Does anybody have a tattoo with your name on it? My older sister has my initial. Do you think somebody’s in love with you? No. Do you think you and your best friend will be friends in ten years? Yes, I genuinely do. Who were the last people to hang out at your house? Miss Tobey, our friend and landlord. Does anyone like you? Welp... I hope he still does. Guess we'll figure that out soon. What person on your Facebook do you talk to the most? VIA Facebook? Probably my friend Lyndsey. She likes to comment on stuff I share. Do you want to fall in love? I do, but I'm also utterly horrified to and risk being hurt again. Are you interested in more than one person at the moment? No. Once I realized I was so deeply into Girt, all other romantic feelings kinda just... poofed. How was your last break up? Civil and done with both of our best interests in mind. What is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to say? Probably the first time I admitted I needed to go to the hospital for suicidal thoughts. I was so, so scared of what it was going to be like. What is the hardest thing you NEEDED to hear? That if Jason wasn't happy with me, he had every right to move on. She was right. Do you treat yourself well? No... but I'm trying to change that. What was the last song you sang out loud to? This "Set Fire to the Rain" cover. Do you take good pictures? I think I do? Have you ever done any internship? No. What’s a topic you’ve drastically changed your opinion on? Holy shit, so much, especially when it comes to morality and political stances. I am now a massive supporter and member of the LGBTQ+ community, I'm pro-trans rights, pro-choice... I've done like a dozen 180s in a lot of topics. Do you know anyone who has a PhD? I mean, some doctors, but no one in my truly personal life. Do you know anyone who works as a lawyer? Yes: my cousin. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? LAKSDJFKLA;JWD NEVER AND I PRAY TO THE HOLY LORD THAT I NEVER DO. Does the thought of having wrinkles when you’re older upset you? Not massively? Like literally everyone gets them and is natural and inevitable. Do you know anyone who’s struggling with addiction? I know one alcoholic, and one that's probably borderline. I also have two friends who are extremely addicted to weed. Look me in the eyes and say it's not an addictive substance and I wouldn't believe you one bit. Is there a video or computer game that you can get lost in for hours? Eh, sometimes World of Warcraft. Some days I'm really into it, and others I barely touch it. What’s your favorite Disney Channel movie? I have no clue. I don't even remember movies that were made *for* Disney exclusively. Do you ever have to do yard work? No. We have a friend from the dance studio mow the lawn. Do you have any live versions of songs in your music software? My iPod has a whole live album of Ozzy. Did you or do you listen to Britney Spears songs? Both did and do. Britney is a boss bitch. Does your favorite band have a male or female lead singer? Male. Have you seen the movie Moulin Rouge? No, but I've seen some of that P!nk music video of the song and it brings out the Gay in me. Do you have a key to anything besides your house? No. Could you ever complete a 500-piece puzzle? I've done that before. I miss doing puzzles... Have you ever been to any sort of convention? I went to a reptile expo with Sara!! I REALLY want to go to another when my legs are stronger and can handle standing and walking so much. Is your mom or dad the older parent? Mom. Have you ever tried to walk on a moving vehicle and fallen over? No????? What is your favourite kind of bread? Is there any of that in your house? Pumpernickel. No. Are/were you in the school band, and if so, what instrument did you play? I played the flute all through middle school and I wanna say half of HS. Have you ever ordered an unusual drink at a bar? Never even been to one. Have you ever been pulled aside by security at the airport? I think once for some reason I don't recall? What is your favourite seasonal candy? (only available at certain times) Gingerbread men, probs. Or chocolate bunnies!!! :') How do you feel right now? My stomach is KILLING me. I'm super excited though that Girt is coming over tomorrow. Have you ever had surgery that kept you in the hospital for over a day? No. What would you like your generation to change? How we treat nature. Is there anyone that you truly could not live without? No. I learned that is a very unhealthy mentality to have. Do you like carrots more if they’re raw, or cooked? I just hate carrots. What restaurant did you last go out to dinner at with friends? With friends? I couldn't even guess. Does your refrigerator have an ice maker or do you use ice cube trays? It has an ice maker. Do you have a favorite sibling, if any? No; I love them all. Do you have a favorite brand of clothing? I STAN CLOAK. How’s the love life? Something new might start tomorrow. I think it will. Do you watch the news? No; that shit is depressing. Who do you admire most? Mark. Do you have a favorite album? Black Rain by Ozzy Osbourne takes the cake and always will.

[rubbrfrk9]

REBORN

I HAD A NAME. I used to be somebody.

I had a profession, dignity, a position in the class structure.

Nowadays, I see through a cracked lens - society is broken, and the people participating in it are all prisoners.  The people you see shuffling in the great to and from, every morning, every evening - they’re miserable.  Ask any one of them if they wouldn’t leave their life, and - perhaps after some hesitation - they would say Yes.  

Even the ones who have kids - the ones in love - all of them.  In fact, those with ties to other people are the first ones to get in line.

For me, it was curiosity that opened the door.  If one follows the classic Hero’s Journey, the arc that every myth and story takes, I heard the Call - just like you - through a buzzing, pixelated source… the great and sordid world of the internet.  

One wrong step can put you on an entirely different path.  

When you look back, the path you were on is obscured by the surrounding environs - pressed firmly closed, as though no thing had ever once passed through.

I should introduce myself before I preach anymore.  I am rubbrfrk9.  You’ve read the stories on the website, you might’ve seen my name watermarked on pics as you scroll by on your tumblr feed.  

That hasn’t been our name always.  But what our name was before does not matter.

All hail the Rubbered One!

And if you’re reading this, then you’re as curious as I was.  

Do you dare follow your own Call?

If you do, keep reading.

THE CALL COMES FOR YOU. You don’t come for it.  The Call has been there, waiting, for you to pick up the other end, for as long as you’ve been alive.

Like I was saying, for me, it was curiosity.  It seems like it is for you, too.

I was always a curious guy.  It’s how I became a teacher, I guess.  I loved to learn about shit.  Endless amounts of shit.  The subjects that interested me were sucked dry by my voracious need to know.  On top of it all, I was cursed (blessed?) by a need to collect, a completionist’s frenzy, and so I found myself needing not just to know, but to know it all.

Everything.  A question could not go unanswered.  I was a very vocal kid, always asking the dread “Why?” to anyone who had the faculty to answer.  Of course, I learned quickly that faculty does not imply ability; and later still, that ability does not imply honesty.  Soon enough, I started shutting up and consulting other avenues of information - books.  I loved books.  I read anything I could find, from my mother’s tawdry romances on the back of the toilet to magazines at the doctor’s office - but my preferred genre was Horror, without a doubt.

I loved to read stories of unfortunate people, blind to their predicament, be lulled to the predator in the story.  I loved how the protagonists were slowly overcome by a sense of dawning knowledge, and were thus able to conquer - or not - the abiding horror.  The best ones were when the hero failed, in my opinion - those dark, twisted passages of despair and helplessness …

I was a weird kid.  

I didn’t have very much luck making friends.  I didn’t really understand what a “friend” should be.  I knew that it was some sort of social construct, but I hadn’t figured out how it worked yet.  Taking the time to do that analysis set me back, quite substantially, in the invisible school of society.  Maybe, at heart, I was always a bit of a freak, even before I came out.  

Funny to think of that, now, sitting here, writing from behind my gas mask and full rubber suit.  

All hail the Rubbered One!

I love how tightly it encases me.  How tightly it erases me.  

Slowly, now.  Don’t give up too quick.  Finish the story first.

As I was saying.  Curiosity.  After college, I became a teacher.  A professor.  Very highly regarded in my field, but poor with social interactions.  Dates?  Of a professional courtesy, only, and as awkward and dry as a lecture.  Actually, for me, lecturing was my second home, aside from my tidy and obsessively-ordered apartment.  I loved standing at the podium, talking about the books we read together.  How they are structured, and how events, following a certain chain, can be transformative.  

Although sometimes, horrific.

Life that is contained entirely within the snowglobe of acadæmia becomes brittle, after a time.  Even the most relentlessly anti-social of us have a heartbeat, a pulse, and a sexual drive.

Most sexual drives will tend towards the obligatory, the procreational.  Attractiveness, physicality, congruence, intercourse, and then the subsequent emotional tangle.  Sex is more than just a body meeting a body a-comin’ thru the rye - it is a rendezvous of energy, some of which we can’t even begin to understand.

Some kind of cosmic interplay happens during sex.  

Something so bright, so chimeric, that I was blinded just thinking about it.

I fled from it, like a medieval monk from a vision of God.

SPARE TIME. I spent most of my time in my apartment in my bedroom, perched with my skinny knees up, my face obliterated by the powder-white light of my phone.  I’d scroll endlessly.  And always pictures of men.

I’d known I was gay way before most people do, but I’d never bothered to “come out” or anything that obvious.  I just kept my feelings to myself, for as long as I could - which may not have been the healthiest thing to do, in hindsight, and when they finally vibrated at the seal on the pressure gauge, I spewed it out all over the internet.

Tumblr was my outlet.  You could find something for every kink, from men transforming into donkeys to using politics as a sexual tool.  I considered myself omnisexual.  I could be convinced, really, to like anything.  Except a few things.

I never really got into the big “full fetish” scene.  I’d, of course, seen the pictures go by - of Folsom, Folsom Europe, even some kinksters trying to make a name for themselves, become influencers, with pictures so heavily edited and filtered they almost looked fake.

But for me, my kink was - get this - intimacy.  I loved pictures of men, beautiful men, kissing, embracing.  Tangling together, with bliss inscribed on their faces.  And it was that expression that did it for me - the bliss, the complete and total walling-off of any worldly concern but the physical, the presence of another’s lips, breath, proximity -

It got me off, every time.  Imagining myself in those positions.  Wearing those clothes.  Caught up in those bedsheets.

Then, I’d stare into the mirror, and flex my coming-along biceps.  My quads.  I’d get dressed for the gym, and I’d go work out for an hour.  

I loved my routine, even if I felt the dreary recalcitrance to wake up every morning and head to work, just another body with the other bodies, shuffling to and from.  The night time is when I felt the surge of life - I would be free of the grimy shackles of the city, I would pound through the tumblr feed, I would shower, I would go workout.  

Life was half-bliss.

But as anyone who has half of bliss will tell you, it is never enough.  You must go searching for the second half of bliss - and I found mine on the night in question.

Knees up, one foot tapping a heel in idle, anxious rhythm.  Eyes greedily consuming, picture after picture, and then -

My thumb hovered over the screen as if about to lay a fingerprint down on a reader.  I stared.

The picture, my gateway, was a bedroom picture much like any other I saw in my daily feed, except for one crucial ingredient - one of the men was entirely encased, from head to toe, in shiny black rubber.

The rubber was so shiny, so depthless, so reflective, that it almost seemed as though its host was Not - as though there were some kind of blotting-out, erasing, blankening … And yet, this Not Person was being encircled by the arms of another man, a strong man, by the looks of it, his biceps bulging around the Rubbered One.

Even now, looking back on it, I find it insanely difficult to pry my eyes away from the memory of that reflective rubber.  That shiny, reflective black rubber.  And the detail!  I could see the hollows of the eyes, the imprint of the big toenail, the curls of the ears down to the tragus - it was truly as though this was not a suit being worn, this was a suit that was animated, had breath and energy of its own.  

Perhaps it was, in hindsight, seducing the man which embraced it.

I don’t know how long I stared at the picture.  A long time.  I was fascinated with everything about it - the mess of clothing on the side of the bed, socks and shirts strewn around, as if someone had melted and left only their garments as markers that they ever existed at all.  Even a pair of glasses lay askew on the carpet, next to a pair of jeans and Chucks.

If I listened, I could almost hear my own heartbeat, beating in time with the glints of light off of that rubber surface, as though the Rubbered One were moving, in infinitesimally small increments, writhing on the bed in either pleasure or agony -

I blinked, shook my head, and pressed down deliberately on the screen, for the little “Save Image” dialog to appear.  I needed to see that again, sometime.

It was a lot sooner than I thought.

I had to excuse myself from my lecture.  I was shaking, and my breath was wobbly in my mouth.  Words had come out gummily, and I was worried that someone would be convinced I was having a stroke.  I’d send in a TA to finish off the lecture, not that anyone in the darkened hall was paying attention anyway.  

I went into the nearest bathroom, a single-room lavatory, and sat down hard on the toilet.  Instantly, my hands fished out my phone from my pocket and called up my Photos.

There, on the top of the digital heap, was the faraway glisten and shine of the Rubbered One.  I sighed in relief, in pleasure.

You would too, if you’d seen the picture.  Don’t judge me.

A whisper of triumph, of pleasure, of satisfaction, threaded through my mind as I opened up the picture.  There it was again.  That endlessness, that Void, that Nothing.  I craved it, and I didn’t know why, and I needed to know why, and to know why, I needed to keep looking.  I needed to keep looking to stop looking.

The Rubbered One had moved.  I remember its legs being in a different scissor - left on top of right, and now it was right, on top of left.  

This did not frighten me.  Perhaps it should have.  Pictures are not supposed to move.

But in my addled state of mind, I was blissfully unaware of the warning - or even, really, of the thought itself.  It slid right out of my head, as if on a glossy sheet of black ice.  I smiled, warmly, the shuddering ceasing.  

Then, surprising even myself, I unzipped my pants, and hauled out my cock.

Nothing would stop me.  I was a man determined.  I could even smell the rubber, could feel it lifting, wafting out of the screen of my phone.  That smell, that smell that I have no words for - something utterly inorganic, but somehow seductive for that very reason.  

I jerked off, right there, in the bathroom around the corner from the lecture hall.  I sat so still, my hand doing all the work, that the motion-sensing lights clicked off, leaving me alone, lit only by the powdery light of my phone.  There, in the enclosing, mummifying dark, I jerked myself off and came with a jagged, oblique moan that slid out of me, catching me by surprise.  

I may have even been in such a hurry to get inside that I didn’t even lock the bathroom door.  This suspicion came to me as I exited, stuffing myself shakily back into my khakis and my blazer.  You see, the door had opened seamlessly, with no hint of a lock dis-engaging.  

In fact, the momentary thrill of being caught as I masturbated to the Rubbered One flicked a little shiver of pleasure up my shaft anew, and I started shuddering so much that I had to grab the wall for fear of falling over.

All hail the Rubbered One!

There was no way I could go back to my lecture now.  I fled the campus for the safety of a local coffeehouse.

OTHER THINGS STARTED HAPPENING. Like how I thought I was having a stroke, before?  I found that, when I spoke, my mouth felt oddly compressed, as though I had lockjaw.  I went to the doctor, but when they told me to “open wide and say ahhh” I had no trouble - my jaw, seemingly re-oiled, complacently opened its full width, and I made the obligatory noise.  

Nothing wrong with my temporo-mandibular joint, advised the healthcare professional.  

And yet, as soon as I left the office, trying to speak to the Uber driver, to give him directions to my apartment, the same muffling, mysterious pressure returned, and I was only able to speak in tight, restrained tones.  

It didn’t occur to me until much, much later, that this was the voice of someone wearing a rubber gas mask, much like the one I am wearing now.

After awhile, I stopped talking altogether.  Of course, this did make it rather difficult to be a professor, and so that had to stop, too.

But what does a mute member of society do, when the one thing they have in life is a degree in English Literature?

Well, the first step is despondency, and denial.  I spent a month at least, just searching tumblr for more pictures of the Rubbered One.  Sure, there were plenty of pictures - the fetish for rubber has never been a subtle one - but none of them had that same irresistable sheen and shine, that fathomless Void, of the Rubbered One.  I’d exhausted most of the blogs.  I kept returning to the photograph I had saved to my cloud - and jerking off to it, again and again, like a desperate man.  Like a junkie.  If I went without, or even thought about going out, my hand developed such a tremor that I looked afflicted with tardive dyskinesia.

It got so bad, and the attacks so frequent, that I eventually just made the picture my home screen on my phone.  That way, if the tremors started, a quick pocket-dig and finger-flip would open up the likeness of the Rubbered One, and instantly, I would calm.

And (he?  It?) continued to move.  Perhaps, now that (he?  It?) knew that I had noticed the movement, it happened more and more, and faster, as though I were watching a video rather than a photograph.

Now, in addition to the slow, sensual scissoring of its legs, the Rubbered One was turning its head, away from the suckling devotion of its prey and turning to look at me, choosing me, directing its energy towards me.

I already had my rubber in the mail.  It took some doing, some difficult work, some self-measuring, but before long the order was placed and the shipment was made.  It was, of course, a link that I’d seen on tumblr, from one of the many rubber fetish sites.  Drone, and a series of numbers, I think.  One of the ones that’s talking about being absorbed into a Hivemind, a Central Core.  Nothing that ever really appealed to me.

The only thing I wished to absorb into was the Rubbered One.  

I ached, yearned, to be the man in that picture.  I was even jealous of him.  Who was he to show his devotion to such a being, such a beautiful entity?  Would not I be a better candidate for the first apostle position?  

But I knew, somehow, deep inside, that I wouldn’t even be considered until I had donned my own rubber.

Here’s where it gets a little weird, right - this is usually the point when in the story, the protagonist gets a little real, sizes himself up, maybe learns something about themselves.  Call me crazy, I know, but at this point, I just knew on the inside, so strongly, that I would never be worthy of the Rubbered One if I wasn’t Rubbered myself.

And so I waited, agonizingly, nearly tearing my hair out, for the package to inch itself across the ocean to my apartment mailbox.  I’d ordered the full suit, of course, the one that most closely approximated my photograph.  

I was utterly consumed, I was ablaze with obsession.  For the first time in my life, I felt an utterly overwhelming feeling - a lack.  I felt as though I lacked something that I had had for just a moment - one sweet moment, hovering, crystalline - and now that I no longer had it, I could never live a whole life again.

And everywhere I went - watching with a hawk’s eye the slow drainage of funds from my bank account - I smelled it.  Rubber.  There was even an auto repair shop, blockaded on one side with piles and piles of tires - I altered my daily neighborhood walk so that I could slowly amble by it, inhaling the thick, gray smell.  The more of it I could get on me, the more I wanted.  If there were a cologne that smelled of rubber, I’d wear it - hell, I’d bathe in it!  I twitched for it to be near me, on me, inside of me.

THE DAY MY NEW FACE CAME IN THE MAIL. I was wearing rubber gloves, made for chemical and construction workers, pressing them to my face, and inhaling as deeply as I could, when my phone made its little ringing noise to signify that a package was Delivered.

It could only be one thing.

It would only be a matter of moments before I could prostrate myself in front of the Rubbered One.

I hooked up my laptop to my flat-screen television, where the Rubbered One had also become my desktop wallpaper.  I opened up the picture file and let it sit, in the middle of my living room, the picture of Him.

Again, I fell far into His Nothingness, His All-Consuming Void - He turned on the bed, in the picture.  He silently got up.  He moved so subtly that it was impossible to tell if my hallucination was real, or some sort of digital magic.  He kicked, as if insulting, the pile of clothes left by the bedside.

The whole time, He kept his head, His black eyes, His shiny face, impassive and monstrous, but so aloof, so superior - His direct gaze - riveted on mine.

All hail the Rubbered One!

With barely a shimmer, He stepped out of the frame of my television and deliberately into my living room.  Tendrils of black squirmed out around the square of my screen, lashing to and fro idly, almost amusedly.

None of this seemed unreal, or even fantastical.  It was simply as it was - I was in a sort of ecstasy, like the kind the saints have, all-consumed, raptured.  The Rubbered One had chosen me!

Go, He told me without speaking.

I was on my feet, I was sprinting, I was dashing, my hands, still in their gloves, slippery on the door knob.  I was down the stairs before I realized I was barefoot, or that I was still wearing the heavy-duty black rubber gloves.  And there it was - my Rubber.  It was, of course, still in the box, it needed to be freed -

I cradled it in my arms.  I inhaled, as deeply as possible, again.  I could smell it, whining at the edges of my nostrils, begging to be freed.  I felt it, inside its cardboard prison, shifting and rustling.  Whispering.

I brought it upstairs with as much care as a mother would bring home her day-old newborn, but once inside, slamming the door behind me, I pillaged the drawers for the scissors, tearing into the box that would dare imprison my -

And there it was.  Still in a sad, folded-up heap, but it was mine.  

Now, said His voice in my head.  I didn’t have to turn around to know that He, the Rubbered One, was standing behind me - had moved silently from the living room to the kitchen.  I felt Him questing at the edges of my consciousness, starting the interview process.  

I felt a strange mix of craven desire and hot-blooded lust twist through me.  How I wished to possess the Rubbered One!  And how I wished to be possessed by Him!

I began to don my Rubber.  I felt it coo as it met my skin, as I replaced my own with its black sheen.  I saw my toes go, then the top of my foot - ankles, calves and shinbones, kneecaps and thighs - I watched as the black tide continued its creep up my body, as quickly as night follows dusk.  

The Rubbered One put His hands on me and I was nothing, I was everything.  I was part of a gigantic, moaning chorus of voices, I was absolute silence.

I saw Him reach out to me, his Nothing fingers and Nothing hands, his Void arms, his Void body.  I saw Him pull my self to His, and I felt us as we docked, somehow, for an imposssible moment, sharing the same physical space.

Then, with a sound that reminded me of a slurp and a sucking, closing noise, I was no more.

RUBBERBORN. I ceased to exist as I knew myself.  

I had a name.  

I wasn’t much of somebody, but I was somebody.  

Now, I was part of a growing, aching consciousness - I was part of a vast, growing hunger.  My thoughts were no longer my own.

All hail the Rubbered One!

I buzzed and chirred, excited beyond words.  I was ramrod hard, even in the rubber, which smoothed everything away, everything - all emotion, all thought, all nerve, all worry.  All features of my face - gone.  All features of my body - slurped up.  

I stood in front of the mirror.  All sign of the Rubbered One was vanished.  I could see, somehow, through my suit, though it had no eyeholes.

I saw through Rubber eyes.

I understood that I was Rubberborn.  That this was my destiny.  

The words “my” and “me” and “I” and “mine” were erased, scratched out heavily.  I was plural, now.

We were plural.

We stand in front of the mirror, staring at ourselves, our new body.  A mere morsel in the face of our hunger.  

Do you feel it?

As our eyes swivel slowly, tracking across the room, away from the mirror.  Looking into the camera lens backwards.  Do you feel the chilly fingers of our gaze landing on you as you read?  Playing along your bare shoulders, the pliable, delicate skin of your arms?

The Rubberborn understand and acknowledge that this body can be used for purposes that satisfy the hunger.  

They gave it the name rubbrfrk9.  The name you know, the author of these stories you read, curious in your own way to know how the rubber feels.  The same name you’ve seen watermarked on pics of us as you scroll by on your tumblr feed.  

Or maybe you already know - maybe you’ve already felt the ecstasy, struggling into your own shirt or pants.  Gloves or socks.  Mask or hood.  

Perhaps all of the above.  

Perhaps the voice of the Rubbered One is even now mingling with your own thoughts.  Sinuous, twisty, shiny and smooth.  Silken whispers, just an undercurrent of sibilant breath in the background, there.  If you strain, you can make it out.  Can hear our voices.  

We can sense you.

We know.

We are coming.

Say it with us now: All hail the Rubbered One!

[pinnithin-writes]

Good Jokes

Chapter 2

The Resonance Cascade hurt. Tommy felt the dimensional rift tear open space as if it were a hole punching through his own body. Even with his limited power there was no way he could have stopped something so catastrophic from happening. By the time the convulsions died down, the monsters had already hopped the gap.

Black Mesa was buckled and warped like a Coke can left in a freezer. Tommy wound up somewhere further away from the blast than he anticipated and had to pick his way through the wasted hallways to get back to the explosion site. What a mess. He passed the bodies of humans and extraterrestrials alike, fighting down a growing sense of nausea as he went. Did Benrey do this? It seemed like a stretch, even for him.

Tommy eventually found Gordon, alive and relatively unharmed, and learned that Gordon had picked up three others on his way out of the test chamber. Benrey was unkillable, as was his nature, so that presence didn’t surprise Tommy. Dr. Coomer was always tough, and it stood to reason that he could survive the blast from an interdimensional anomaly. Bubby, well. He wasn’t dead anymore, was all Tommy knew.

Now, they were trucking through the test facility at a steady clip, picking off creatures as they went. Tommy wasn’t armed - he didn’t need to be - but Gordon was making decent headway with a crowbar and Bubby had… located a revolver somehow. Tommy had questions about Bubby. For now, however, he was hanging in the back of the group, keeping one eye on Benrey, because Benrey was always up to something, and one eye on Gordon, because, well, just look at him.

The elevator crash had shoved him off a cliff he was never climbing back up from. That was a hard thing for Tommy to watch; aside from witnessing the death of three strangers, he also had to see something small and fragile snap inside Gordon, like the breaking of a flower stem. He hadn’t killed those people, not really, but he believed that he did, and that was somehow worse. Tommy didn’t say anything. He didn’t know how to tell Gordon that a lot more people would die before this was over.

To make things worse, the company they kept was slowly chipping away at Gordon’s sanity. Bubby was insufferable. Coomer was unhelpful. Benrey was… flirting with him. Indistinguishable from harassment, which Tommy knew from firsthand experience. The new guy needed someone in his corner. It may as well be Tommy.

Gordon was at least adjusting relatively well to the supernatural. He had gotten over the idea of aliens invading pretty quickly, and when Bubby had outright told him he was born in a tube in the lab, Gordon took it in stride. That was right before he had clapped a heavy hand on Tommy’s shoulder, sending a shiver all the way through his body.

Wow, that was nice. Been a long time since Tommy felt something like that. He almost forgot to be offended when Gordon jokingly said that he was five. “We love our little Tommy,” Bubby had commented sarcastically. “We love Tommy,” Gordon had agreed genuinely.

Tommy didn’t know what to think about that, his brain glitching out in a pleasant sort of way with Gordon’s hand still on his shoulder. Then he let go and they kept moving, leaving Tommy just standing there, pulse on the uptick.

Get it together, man. You have an apocalypse to deal with.

A brief raid of the break room brought back memories of that morning. Was it really just that morning? The past few hours had felt like days. There wasn’t a lot to be found in there except the drinks from the vending machine. Tommy hung back while his colleagues pawed through the drawers and cabinets.

Gordon glanced at the bulletin board and over to Tommy, flashing a smile of acknowledgement. Tommy returned it with a wordless raise of his eyebrows. So he still had a sense of humor in this nightmare. That was a good sign.

The eye contact between them lingered for far longer than was appropriate. Take a picture, baby, it’ll last longer, was what Tommy’s brain said. “Grab a soda, it’ll help you see faster,” was what came out of his stupid mouth. Nice one, genius.

The laugh Gordon barked out seemed to surprise him. It was tight with stress, but his smile was lovely as ever.

“I don’t know what that means,” he chuckled, hefting the crowbar in his hand, “but sure.”

He really didn’t know what the hell Tommy was talking about and he still laughed at the bullshit he blurted when his brain stopped working. Tommy smiled and shook his head. He was definitely keeping this one.

The vending machine was cracked open like a walnut and they continued on their way.

It became an unspoken game between the two of them. Who could break the other out of reality, startle them into joy at the end of the world. Tommy won points the most often - Gordon wore his emotions on his face and he was already so strung out from stress that the barest attempts at levity set him off laughing. Occasionally, though, Gordon caught Tommy off guard with his wit. His jokes were more orchestrated. Grandiose. Special presents just for Tommy.

One such occasion was after they’d broken into the locker room. After addressing the corpse by the benches, Gordon began rifling through his locker for his passport in a vain attempt to placate Benrey. Tommy watched him carefully as he entered such an enclosed space with the entity. Just in case he tried something. Gordon found his passport, but his attention snagged on a solitary picture frame in the corner.

“That’s my baby,” Gordon informed the team.

He had a baby? Tommy studied the photo with interest. He didn’t strike Tommy as a fatherly person, and the fact that he had a child complicated whether or not he was single. Of course, that wasn’t an automatic disqualifier -

“I have a son,” Gordon insisted, with emphasis.

Tommy belatedly realized that Gordon was staring straight at him as he pointed at the photo. He blinked. Okay, man. He got the hint. Gordon wasn’t on the market - wait.

That was a stock photo. He could see the watermark stamped across the image. Gordon’s stare was still locked onto Tommy, a barely contained smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“That’s Joshua,” he said.

Tommy had to duck into the adjacent room to laugh.

Damn, he was good. Tommy leaned one hand on the wall, holding the other against his ribs in a fit of giggles. Why did Gordon have that in there? Just for kicks? He distantly heard an  oblivious compliment Dr. Coomer launched in Gordon’s direction and a caustic insult from Benrey.

“What did you say about my boy?” Gordon demanded in mock outrage. “Did you call him shit?”

Tommy sagged against the wall, catching his breath. It took him a couple seconds to recover from that one. What a knockout.

---

It turns out Gordon Freeman’s sense of humor is difficult to nail when one is enduring an extraterrestrial apocalypse. Shambling forms accosted them on all sides, and while the party was able to more or less hold their own, the tension in the air was palpable. Each member of the team was paranoid for their own reasons, making their words sharper, their actions heavier.

Benrey had disappeared shortly after after the explosion in the bathroom, and Tommy could see him flickering on the edges of his vision every once in a while. Creep. He’d turn up eventually, on his own terms. Tommy had learned by now that there was no making the entity do what he didn’t want to do, but his presence nearby still made his skin crawl.

Dr. Coomer was on edge as he came face to face with his doppelgangers throughout the maze of carnage. Tommy had put together that this man was either a clone or a base for one, and it was becoming increasingly apparent as his speech grew more and more incomprehensible. Gordon thought he was having a stroke once. It was probably more accurate to say that he was having a breakdown on the DNA level.

Gordon and Bubby were the only two who seemed legitimately concerned about the aliens that were steadily pouring into the facility. Bubby was a surprisingly excellent shot with the revolver, and while Gordon wasn’t exactly a deadeye, he could at least swing that crowbar around with a decent amount of wallop. The adrenaline was running hot through all of them as they lay waste to the creatures in the facility. This was dangerous, and everyone was on edge.

As the situation grew bleaker, Tommy found himself cracking jokes reflexively, just as a nervous tic. He was used to having a pretty good grasp on reality - or, at least, on his definition of it - but the Resonance Cascade had dropped him in an inkwell and he could no longer tell which way was up. What parts of the impossible were planned? What parts of it could be stopped?

Most of his jokes were ignored by his nervous teammates. Understandable. When he dramatically bemoaned the loss of his tic tac drawer and the crucial calories they contained, he wasn’t even sure if he was being serious or not. They had seen so many people die in such a short amount of time. Watching the group’s brittle humanity crumbling apart at the loss of life was not making it any easier.

When the four of them witnessed a stranger plummet from a precarious catwalk to the void below, Gordon stood there, staring at the place he had disappeared from, for quite a long time. Tommy hung back as he always did, leaning his shoulder on the doorway. This poor mortal with a too-big heart. He was not going to be the same if he made it out of this ordeal alive.

“How deep is that hole?” he finally asked, either to find a sliver of hope that the man was still alive or some comfort that he had died quickly. “How deep is that hole?”

Beside him, Bubby folded his arms and blew out a breath. “Uh, I believe this hole has to be about five hundred feet deep,” he guessed.

Gordon’s face went worryingly blank as he processed this. Tommy watched him, feeling a twinge of sympathy tug at his stomach. There was no solace to be found in the catastrophe tearing through the facility, especially when the facility itself was grown from such rotten roots. Things were about to get far worse before they got better.

“We’re trying to dig to the center of the earth,” he told him wryly.

Gordon’s responding laugh was heartbreakingly sour.

They moved on, and Tommy was about to follow the group when Benrey materialized beside him. He only came up to Tommy’s shoulder where he stood next to him, but he still managed to pull off an intimidating leer.

“Dude, quit hitting on the new guy,” he said thinly. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Tommy paused. Slanted Benrey a stare that could cut glass. “Maybe you should take your own advice,” he muttered.

“I’m not hitting on him,” the entity shot back. “I can’t stand him.”

Tommy narrowed his eyes. Sure.

“It’s not my fault he showed me his dick,” Benrey went on, crossing his arms. His voice was like a razor, and it set Tommy’s teeth on edge.

He drew in a long, slow breath through his nose. “Why,” he asked, “would you tell me that.”

Benrey grinned, sharklike, and shrugged innocently. “Just something to think about.”

He blinked out of existence, leaving Tommy there alone to frown at nothing. He scoffed. Asshole. No tact whatsoever.

The fact that the entity had his eye on Gordon, too, made him uneasy. Not enough that Tommy felt the need to interfere - anyone with half a brain cell would know not to trust Benrey and Tommy was certain that Gordon had at least two. But he could see him slowly chipping away at the new guy’s sanity, piece by teeth-grinding piece.

The being had no appreciation for subtlety; winking in and out of this plane, killing indiscriminately, parading around like an interdimensional peacock. Tommy watched it all with a growing sense of disdain. That kind of power was not something to be fucked around with, and that was all Benrey ever did.

Tommy and Benrey’s relationship was like a careful dance in a room full of knives, each step a decision that could help or hurt both of them. They shared a supernatural origin, but their similarities ended there. Tommy didn’t trust him one iota, and Benrey vacillated rapidly between being obsessed with Tommy and outright despising him.

He had to remind himself that while the entity rarely outright lied, his words were often so ridiculously, insufferably cryptic that he might as well have been dishonest. The piece of information he had just dropped could mean anything, deposited in such a way to needle against Tommy’s skin like sandpaper. This was how Benrey worked, feeding people bullshit just to get them riled. Tommy didn’t need to retaliate. Unlike Benrey, he was raised with some fucking manners.

He had no power over him as long as he didn’t let it get to him.

He wasn’t going to let it get to him.

Oh, who was he kidding? It got to him. Tommy made a mental note to let an industrial door slide shut on Benrey the next chance he got. What was it going to do, kill him?

Chapter 1 <-----> Chapter 3

[weddmeshine-blog]

Step by step instructions to Take Striking Candid Wedding Photos

Authentic photographs are the most effective when you get a sentiment of real feeling, regardless of whether as happiness, misery, or anything in the middle. Catching legitimate sentiments (and having it decipher with a still picture) is no simple errand, particularly in the event that you are normally a bashful individual and you and your prospective life partner don't love the possibility of multi day-long camera association. To get a thought of how to take the best real to life photographs, we addressed the specialists on acceptable behavior common with regards to taking real to life photos of your own.

Grasping your environment (regardless of whether that is the horizon of your picked city, the regular scene of your service site, or the front yard of a private living arrangement), is one way our specialists produce easily authentic photographs. Catching sparkles of unconstrained collaboration before your wedding's one of a kind setting will convey much progressively enchantment to your day of photos. From preparing with your bridesmaids to the last snapshots of your after-party, there are a lot of chances to make a lot of off the cuff enchant. In case you're searching for how to include considerably more contacts of immediacy to your big day collection, at that point we propose perusing these tips from the absolute best picture takers in the business, an exercise in never again modeling for the camera.

While surveying a picture taker's collection, search for the key minutes you need caught: Did they get photographs of both the lady of the hour and the lucky man when they bolted eyes out of the blue? Likewise search for freshness of pictures, astute arrangements (completes a shot look great the manner in which it was confined, or is there a lot of messiness in the edge?) and great lighting (be careful with washed-out pictures where little subtleties are obscured—except if that is the style you're after). It's likewise critical that you recognize affectability in catching individuals' feelings; ensure the picture taker's subjects look, dislike deer got in headlights. While both of you are critical, obviously, you need to see grinning shots of your companions as well.

Make Sure Your Personalities Mesh

Try not to disparage the significance of enjoying and holding with your picture taker. Is the picture taker energized by your vision when you portray it? When they influence recommendations, to do they present them in a reasonable and aware way, or would they say they are meek? Are their quirks off-putting? So as to get the best photographs, run with an expert who has a firm handle of social graces yet is sufficiently intense to go out chasing for incredible pictures and who, most importantly, comforts you and doesn't chafe you in any capacity. Keep in mind that: They'll be shadowing everything you might do, and the more agreeable both of you are with the picture taker, the better the photographs will turn out. In like manner, you don't need the picture taker to affront or pester any visitors, yet to shoot them in their best light in an unpretentious way. To get the best photographs, your picture taker should be sufficiently confident to search out extraordinary minutes, wheedling enough to urge loosened up grins and normal positions from visitors, and quiet enough to be a positive power. They ought to solicit parts from inquiries and be a decent audience.

Compare Packages

You won't almost certainly nail down an accurate dollar sum until you're certain about what you need, what number of collections you need and where your picture taker is based, and bundles extend from $2,500 as far as possible up to $15,000-in addition to on the higher end of the range. While talking with applicants, request a general range dependent on the picture taker's standard "shooting charge" and bundle, in addition to their standard rates for the sort of collection you think you'll need and the measure of inclusion you're wanting to book them for (day of, entire end of the week). It's imperative to discover what's incorporated into the standard bundle, in addition to the fundamental range for any additional items you may need, similar to a commitment shoot, enhancements or extra inclusion, so you can think about rates. Specifically, discover precisely how long of inclusion are incorporated. In a perfect world, you need your picture taker to be there for best wedding  photographer in Delh day—from when you begin preparing until after you make your fabulous exit from the gathering. While bundles fluctuate, most incorporate around 6 to 12 hours to cover everything from preceremony occasions (preparing with your bridesmaids or first-look photographs) as far as possible of the gathering. It's typically better to pay for more inclusion if there's a shot you'll keep running over and you unquestionably need your picture taker there until the end (additional time is normally charged at a higher hourly rate). Likewise think about whether you'll need to complete a commitment shoot or have your picture taker shoot different occasions amid your wedding end of the week (the folks' golf excursion, the bridesmaid lunch).

Additionally, check if there's a second shooter incorporated into the agreement, and if there's not, get some information about the likelihood. It's probable the second shooter can be affirmed later on, yet the principle advantage to having two shooters is, obviously, you get twice as much inclusion. For instance, amid your formal photograph session, one picture taker can catch the formal photographs, while the second one can get in the background, photojournalistic photographs, similar to your visitors blending. In case you're having a bigger wedding (250 visitors or more), you may even need to get some information about having three shooters so your photography group can make certain to catch the occasion from all points.

 Ask About Your Rights

Most contracts stipulate that the picture taker possesses the rights to all photographs taken at the wedding, even you ones. As such, the picture taker can utilize them promotionally (on their site or blog, submit them for production and even spot them in advertisements). That likewise implies you can't simply post the advanced confirmations they send you—most picture takers have an approach that you can just share watermarked pictures or pictures with their credit on them. Additionally, except if you arrange something else, in the event that you need to print the pictures yourselves or request a collection from another source, you'll need to purchase the rights to the pictures.

Get the Postproduction Details

It normally takes something like a month to recover every one of those photograph proofs from your picture taker. Why? Your picture taker is shooting gigantic crude records far greater than your common JPG. Shooting crude documents gives your picture taker more prominent capacity to address the photograph, yet it likewise sets aside a more drawn out effort to transfer, process and alter each one of those records (so as to address shading levels, etc). It shifts, however numerous picture takers state they go through an extra 40 hours altering pictures from a candid wedding photography , so it can take up to six to about two months (or more, contingent upon the picture taker and that they are) to get proofs back. This is what to ask: what number pictures would it be a good idea for me to anticipate? Will they be high goals or low goals? Will I have the capacity to get prints made myself, or does the picture taker hold the rights to the pictures? Will the evidences I see be the corrected forms, or does that occur after I select the photographs I need? Discussing correcting, get some information about modifying alternatives and enhancements (which can run from straightforward white adjusting to magnificence modifying and adapted craftsmanship impacts like super-soaked hues) and the extra expense for both.

 Prep Together for the Day-Of

Keep in mind that your picture taker is the genius, so—while it's useful—you shouldn't invest a lot of energy assembling a nitty gritty shot rundown for them. Rather, go along your day-of course of events, give them a thought of what pictures you'd like caught (like a shot with every one of your bridesmaids notwithstanding wedding gathering representations) and let them do their thing. This is likewise the ideal minute to surrender them a heads on any familial or kinship complexities they ought to know about, as separated from guardians, a grandma that necessities to stay sitting for pictures or a groomsman and bridesmaid that don't get along (hello, it occurs!). In case you're planning to get your big day distributed on the web or in a magazine not far off, make certain to transfer that to your picture taker. Thusly, they'll put additional accentuation on snapping shots of all your astonishing subtleties and will probably come furnished with exquisite styling adornments, similar to strips, materials and the sky is the limit from there, with the objective of helping your wedding tasteful really emerge.

[wordpressusersmustknow]

16 Essential WordPress Plugins: Add-ons to Hike your Website Performance

WordPress is the most popular website content management system. Besides that, various other factors come up while operating your websites, like its security, eCommerce flexibility, SEO ranking, and much more.

WordPress Plugins are the extended features that will shoot up its performance when added to the website. WordPress has updated thousands of plugins till now.

They all are essential in some or other means. However, choosing what’s suitable for your website is a trivial task.

This post will let you scroll down through sixteen essential plugins, all latest and universally adapted in various websites. Some of them are free, while some are worth paying for it.

What a WordPress Plugin Developer will need?

1.Classic Editor

It preserves the previous editor screen in WordPress. It does allow the user to use a different editor for every post or any single post.

However, Classic editor does not allow any functions operated by Gutenberg. The default editor will conceal everything in Gutenberg by default. This can be changed by settings———> Writing Screen.

2.Akismet Spam Protection

Akismet is an antispam plugin that flushes out all the spam comments and contact form database. This will protect your website from malign matters. Each word is filtered when Akismet scans for any misleading or hidden links.

In some cases, the spam will look certified to you, yet not to the Akismet module. Don’t hesitate to introduce this on your site to avoid spam that rots your site.

Moderators verify approved comments for any user. This will ultimately clean your space and increase site performance. This is an open-source platform. For reviews, you can look into the ‘comments’ admin panel. Its installation will take just a few seconds!

3.Jetpack: WP Security, backup, speed, and growth

This is a security plugin to keep your website safe from viruses. This plugin even increases the visitor’s traffic and is also suited for SEO operations.

Jetpack backs up or effectively changes your information to a copy site. It gives you ceaseless site security consequently. A considerable number of eCommerce sites utilize it. It will therefore check the dangers and shield the framework from malware capacities.

It can reinforce your information and even reestablish it with a straightforward contact. It has held hands with Google AMP to support the site execution.

4.WooCommerce PDF Vouchers

WooCommerce pdf vouchers are a must to add a plugin in any eCommerce business. This will allow you to download an unlimited pdf voucher and can redeem it in person anywhere, anytime. It is fully customizable, automated, and secure.

It has been developed with a variety of features like unlimited voucher templates, coupon codes, etc. With WooCommerce pdf vouchers, you can add some features, including OTP verification and reverse redemption. It is 100% multilingual.

5.Yoast SEO

Yoast SEO is the number 1 plugin with dynamic establishments crossing 10 million. It is the best module for Search engine Optimization.

This will assist your site with positioning the most noteworthy in web search tools. This way, you guarantee that your substance is arriving at the most significant number of individuals. This will upheaval the advancement of your administration/item.

The Yoast SEO likewise includes XML sitemaps, meta labels, Canonical URLs. This all will make your brand a superior one.

On the off chance that you are a WordPress Website Developer, you should be capable of SEO-based content. In any case, if not, add Yoast SEO to your site. This element even investigates the coherence and even shows the secret to refine it.

6.Social Auto Poster

Wouldn’t it be amazing to auto-post your content on varied Social media platforms like Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, etc.? Social auto poster posts your content automatically and even reposts the older content.

This is based on scheduling the posts. It supports custom-type commands. It can also post tags, categories, and any other WordPress taxonomies as hashtags.

It even supports the auto-posting of emojis. It is compatible with WPML, bbPress, BuddyPress.

7.Contact Form 7

It will collect various databases. It helps you to configure numerous plugins. Develop CAPTCHA and powered by AJAX-POWERED submitting. It can even support Akismet Spam Filter.

However, maintaining the privacy features does not share any user’s personal data If to any database or any external server. It will not automatically use cookies.

8.EDD Download Image Watermark

EDD Image download watermark will allow you to put a watermark on EDD images. This can be treated as a copyrighted image or a company logo. You can paste different watermarks for large photos, small photos, thumbnails, etc.

You can even repeat a watermark, align or watermark existing images. It is compatible with the EDD FES submission manager.

9.Elementor Page Builder

It is an advanced website builder than WordPress. It is the foremost website builder that works very fast. Faster! This plugin will enable you to design the live website and not from the backend.

There are numerous predesigned templates for the design. There will be limitless design flexibility available to the user.

10.Docket– WooCommerce Collections/Wishlist/Watchlist

Do you like a product? Want to save it for the future? WooCommerce Docket is your savior. This allows the user to save and share products that they want to buy.

This enables the admin to allow the user to see the products left for sale, their quantity, and price. It helps to create unlimited collections.

It is also compatible with WPML, Yoast SEO, WC vendor, BuddyPress.

11.Smush Image Optimizer and Compressor

They are the fundamental things to present amid your substance on looking captivating. This is an image enhancer plugin. Resizing the image and propelling it will, finally, improve the site stacking execution. Other than this, this module has been named an honor-winning smoothing out a specialist.

This will improve your photos up to 5MB, all free. The plugin can pack the image while ensuring the idea of the photo. This is practical with some other topic or module.

As in a post, there will be vast loads of pictures and GIFs, which will add to your site loading time. This module will consider cutting down the size of the images and hence diminishing the languid stacking time

12.XML sitemaps

This is the best SEO plugin and seen as the best plugin of WordPress. It gives an extensive XML sitemap without planting down your site execution.

This will let the web indexes peruse and direct your site toward the correct position. In the event that and when you force any progressions to the site, this module will advise the web search tool and this would re-update your position.

A lovely cool motivation to have this module!

13.WP Super Cache

While sitting tight for the stacking site, you generally consider ending the arrangement to look through the administrations and items.

This is because the site stores the limit of gathered information you perused previously. This heaps up your site and places you in need to free it.

This module will help you clear all the stored information that sets aside some effort to stack your site. Henceforth it is helpful to keep up the crowd on your site.

14.Sucuri

Security ought to be the main concern for all online entrepreneurs. Sucuri offers a WordPress security module and web application firewall that is likely outstanding amongst other assurances you can get for your webpage.

This screen and shield your site from DDoS, malware dangers, XSS assaults, animal power assaults, and fundamentally every other kind of assault. In the event that you don’t have a firewall on your site, you need to add one today.

15.WPML

Naturally, WordPress doesn’t permit you to handily make a multilingual site. This is a test for organizations that oblige a multilingual client base in various geographic areas.

This is the place where you’ll require WPML. It is a WordPress multilingual plugin that permits you to effectively make multi-lingual sites with WordPress.

It is exceptionally simple to utilize, SEO cordial, and assists you with making content in various dialects.

16.Redirection

It is a divert director for WordPress. Redirection allows you to set up custom 301 sidetracks inside your site and afterward keeps a full record of information on clicks. You can even utilize it to follow broken URLs on your site.

A 404 or broken page adds to something similar. Be that as it may, you can’t check each and every post or page on your site by hand, particularly on the off chance that you have many posts. Basically introducing the Redirection module will show you a rundown of pages that are 404s, and you should simply enter the URL where you need the module to divert the guest.

What do we conclude?

WordPress Plugins effectively built website performance. WordPress Plugins are as flexible as developing it from scratch. Many of the trivial plugins are available free of cost.

Some customized plugins may be available from WordPress Plugin Development Company. The cost of developing custom WordPress plugins generally depends on an efficient market study.

Being a WordPress Plugin Developer, you must know what your WordPress Website needs. Adding the above plugins will positively affect the overall rank of your website performance.

I hope you are familiar with the most valuable plugins by now.

[cheri-translates]

[Translated Comic] Love Language Kindergarten (Pt. 5 - Kiro)

This comic was originally created by Yvonne是半山上的汪 on Weibo, and she has given me permission to translate it 💙

🍒 Please do not repost! 🍒

Pt. 4: here

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Pt. 6: here

More translated comics: here

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[ Permission to translate ]

Yvonne是半山上的汪: Can. Also, I hope that aside from changing the words, try not to edit the picture or watermarks.

[shirlleycoyle]

‘Building the Cockchain:’ How NSFW Artists Are Shaping the Future of NFTs

A few months ago, Jen Stein entered a room in the voice chat app Clubhouse called "Decentralized Systems," looking for conversations about censorship solutions on social media. She creates sculptural art using colorful dildos as the medium, and had recently been kicked off of Instagram. To her surprise, she found a group of people in the middle of a conversation about cryptocurrency.

"I was like, 'I'm so sorry, I think I came to the wrong room… I did not realize this was about Bitcoin,'" she told me. "I'd heard about Bitcoin like once before, through all these memes about money… I hate money, I hate capitalism, I don't care," she recalled. But the people in that room told her to stay and learn about non-fungible tokens, or NFTs. "It just opened my eyes to what this technology could actually do."

Non-fungible tokens, or NFTs, are visual, cryptographic assets on the blockchain that are unique from one another and can represent ownership of an associated digital item. Stein listed images of her sculptures on Rarible, a digital marketplace for NFTs, and calls it "building the cockchain." She's since personally taught more than 100 people the ins and outs of NFTs and cryptocurrency, and written guides on how to get into it. "I've never been more inspired by anything in a really long time—especially after this year, I was feeling very just not hopeful about the world," she said.

NFTs have gained traction in the world of art and collectors' items. Each token points to a digital work in some way, and because they're minted on the blockchain, they're harder to defraud and impossible to duplicate. This means one can track where they're transferred and sold. Unlike cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin or Ethereum, you can't pay for things with them like money; they're more like receipts than dollar bills. It would be like trying to buy a coffee with a printed picture of Nyan Cat. But they're useful for artists who want to build a community of collectors, and invest in art that could increase in value over time.

NFTs have gotten a lot of attention lately, both for successes such as art sales in the millions, and for criticisms around the environmental cost of cryptocurrency mining and issues such as theft. But the technology isn't new. They've been around for years—at least as far back as Rare Pepes in 2017—and the basic idea stretches back farther, with "Colored Coins'' issued on the Bitcoin blockchain in 2012.

In the last month, several well-known artists—including rapper Azealia Banks, who sold the rights to an audio sex tape for $17,000, and Russian rock group Pussy Riot, which released a new video as series of protest-art tokens to benefit women's shelters—seem to be paving the way for works that push the boundaries way beyond Cryptokitties. There’s even an NFT-based streaming alternative to Spotify. But is the same success attainable for smaller, independent erotic artists? 

THE BENEFITS 

Multidisciplinary artist PolyAnnie started minting NFTs in September 2020. She does performance art, erotic physical and digital art, and is a content creator on OnlyFans. "NFTs allow me to set the conditions of my work and provide me the ability to gamify my entire body of work in ways that one day I can take my hands off the 'wheel' and let my brand run itself," she said.

To her, the benefits of getting into the NFT world include a more direct relationship with fans and those fans become investors, as well as the financial: she's made more income from crypto-art in five months than she usually would in an entire year. Now, she runs a weekly conference call that's open to anyone who wants to learn more about getting into adult NFTs.

"Self-Love," by Cryptonatrix. Image courtesy Cryptonatrix

For erotic artists and sex workers, who are constantly dogged by payment processors' prudish rules and risk having their Venmo, Cashapp, and Paypal accounts closed for selling sexy content, the decentralized nature of NFTs is appealing. Unlike with these services, which are moderated by a central authority, digital receipts published to the blockchain are permanent and there will always be methods of transferring cryptocurrency without the use of middlemen who might take issue with the transaction. For some, this looks like the future of the adult industry.

Cryptoempress, a professional dancer and nude model as well as cryptocurrency enthusiast, mostly creates NFTs from her own nude photos. She saw the combination of crypto and modeling as a natural fit. 

"I think the future for NFT’s, crypto-art and NSFW artists is bright, because the world is changing to a direction where nudity is not a taboo anymore," she said. "You can create nude art on the blockchain with the actual opportunity to earn money." She also likes that NFTs can bring in royalties—if someone buys her work and then resells it, she can receive the royalties she sets as a term of the sale.

"I think that NFTs are a great 'gateway drug' to bring anyone into crypto," Cryptonatrix, who works as a dominatrix, told me. "However, I imagine it will take time for adult content creators and buyers to become familiar with what’s going on in this space, just as it will take time for new adult specific NFT platforms to develop and test themselves."

THE RISKS 

As excited as she was about cryptocurrency's potential for art, it took Stein a few weeks after learning about cryptocurrency to start her own wallet. "It was the PTSD of being on other platforms where [sex is] the first thing that gets regulated," she said. "Something's gonna happen with sex, sexuality and kids, or with kids money." 

Even if cryptocurrency infrastructure is fairly agnostic, markets represent a possible bottleneck for content creators. Rarible's terms of use prohibit users to "publish, post, distribute or disseminate any profane, obscene, pornographic indecent or unlawful content, pictures, topic, name, material or information," for example, but at the same time, has a dedicated NSFW category. OpenSea, another listing marketplace, is more lenient. Its terms of use state that it allows the sale of NSFW content, but that content is "subject to being marked NSFW and handled differently than non-NSFW content in navigation menus and search results," and the site bans "asset names, listings and their descriptions, smart contract names, and collections including profanity, sexually explicit, or overtly sexual content."  SuperRare, another marketplace, does not allow minting pornographic or obscene content—but a quick search on the platform shows that this rule is pretty loose. Foundation similarly forbids vulgar, obscene or pornographic content.

Image courtesy Cryptoempress

All of this surfaces age-old questions about what constitutes art, porn, and erotica—and what makes each of these distinct from the others. What might be considered acceptably NSFW without crossing the line into “obscene” on these platforms? 

"The very notion of erotica as 'good,' clean, non-explicit representations of sexual pleasure in opposition to dirty, explicit pornographic ones is false," porn scholar Linda Williams wrote in Hard Core. "The one emphasizes desire, the other satisfaction. Depending on who is looking, both can appear dirty, perverse, or too explicit."  And as pornographic legend Gloria Leonard, once put it bluntly: “The difference between porn and erotica is the lighting." 

"Just as what is considered 'art' is infinitely debated and in the eyes of the beholder, what is considered inappropriate, varies greatly amongst individuals," Cryptoempress said. In these cases, the beholder is the platforms themselves.

"Obscenity" at least has a legal definition, but it's subject to jurisdiction. "What jurisdiction is the metaverse?" Stein said. 

Cryptonatrix said she had one of her first NFTs removed by Rarible, without explanation. "Terms of Service are never written so clearly, which allows platforms to censor selectively," she said. "As with any social platform, there are definitely double standards in the way their ToS are applied, and in who they choose to promote. For example, a GIF of me wearing a strap-on silicone toy was removed while others sell uncensored nudes, men have minted dick pics, and there is other art involving dildos not actually being worn." There's also a double standard on platforms about erotic content when it's made by a someone who is openly a sex worker, versus someone without that stigma attached to them and their art, she said. But there's still less risk of deplatforming in crypto-art so far than there is on Facebook or Instagram. 

There's also the usual security risks that anyone connecting their credit care to a relatively new platform take on: earlier this week, several users on token marketplace Nifty Gateway had thousands of dollars stolen from their accounts, because the site doesn't require two-factor authentication. And there's always the risk of copyright infringement and stolen art ending up on a marketplace—a problem pornographers have dealt with since the earliest days of putting images of sex on the internet, and one that's only expounded with the rise of independent sex work such as camming and clip sites. 

Image courtesy PolyAnnie

Some sex workers are trying to stay a step ahead by minting their own works on the blockchain before someone else can: Allie Eve Knox told Motherboard that she's been minting her works before others can, and watermarking them with a "bid now" banner that stays on the image until it's purchased, to keep people from stealing the jpeg or screenshotting it. 

A complication of NFTs (and a risk for sellers) is that most tokens give the purchaser the right to do what they want with it, including reselling it. "When I shoot for a company or whatever, I sign those rights away in a contract, but here, there is no contract. There is no law. There is no regulation, aside from moderation of the site—which is hella subjective," Knox said. 

Re(Booty) by Caroline Dy. Image courtesy Caroline Dy

Stein and Cryptonatrix both brought up the fact that most marketplace platforms don't have age verification or consent agreements, for either the seller or the buyer. "I think it’s just like any new technology, in that with the endless amount of positive potential it may bring, there are also dangers that we cannot yet foresee," Cryptonatrix said. "I am moving cautiously, including with the projects that I am aligning myself with."

Some of these issues are the growing pains of a newly-popular medium, but mostly they're predictable questions within the adult content industry. 

"Any fringe content will remain vulnerable to censorship as long as payment and computation hosting are in the hands of large tech companies," PolyAnnie said. "Blockchains are not evolved enough to host the content itself, only the proof of purchase and ownership. Therefore, blockchains can solve payment vulnerabilities, yet blockchains cannot address censorship in who gets hosted on the tech giant’s servers." Although there are ways to host images on the blockchain, they're very limited, and more like storing pixel art.

The NFT boom could also help illustrators who make more erotic-themed art in private expand that work into the public. Caroline Dy, who got into NFTs to supplement her income as a technical artist and game developer, creates digitally-painted portraits and pin-ups. "I'm exploring the idea of publishing more work that leans towards erotica as I believe we need to destigmatize and normalize talking about sex," Dy said. 

"It’s extremely important to not get too drugged up on that 'hopium,'" Cryptonatrix said. "Neither sex work nor cryptoart is easy money, though that misconception is certainly prevalent in regards to both." 

Even with the uncertainty of where this technology and art form will go, Stein said she'd still encourage anyone who's been shut out of other platforms to try making their own NFTs. 

"There are so many people that have already lost their voices, and they're the ones that need this," she said. "I see this technology as a way to get voices to the people that have not been able to use them.”

‘Building the Cockchain:’ How NSFW Artists Are Shaping the Future of NFTs syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/