#*insert rabbit smoking a cigarette*

[bunnys-kisses]

blues, reds and pregnancies

max verstappen & charles leclerc

cw: smut/pwp, pregnant!reader, threesome, sub!charles, "dom"!reader, dom!max, breast play, body worship, oral sex (reader & max receives), threesome, max is monsieur and reader is madame, dom/sub play, praise kink, pregnancy kink, protected sex, filth(!!), 3.3k words

bunny says: *big shrug* i don't know! (comments and reblogs are always appreciated!)

max wasn't stupid. a keen eye like his made it hard for him to miss things. both on the track and off. he knew how charles stared at you. max thought it was a seething jealousy that charles had, that max had something he couldn't have.

while he brushed it off, almost smiling in a smugness, he noticed something changed once you got pregnant. you and max were beyond excited to have a child, max made sure to show various ways that he was thankful for giving him the chance to be a (good) father.

so max noticed when around the fifth month of your pregnancy, a sunny track day in italy, that charles was a lot more hands-y than usual. you didn't mind the attention on you, you knew people were just being nice. so charles' hand on your swollen middle was nothing out of the ordinary.

but max could see the almost nervousness on charles' face. especially when you beamed at him.

"yeah, he's been moving a bit recently." you beamed, "i can't believe i'm saying this, but i think he knows what i'm at the track. i wouldn't be surprised if he could hear the engines." you laughed.

charles' eyes were on your bump that could be outlined in the dress you wore. both hands on your belly as he listened with attention. you blabbered about all the updates with your son.

max should've known that charles had a soft spot for mother's, and that soft spot left him feeling a little hard. it would only fully click when after the monaco grand prix, and a party by a pool was in full effect.

max stayed with making sure his wife was taken care of. but he could see that charles' gaze lingered on you. the two piece swimsuit was comfortable, and not meant to turn heads. but max swore he saw charles adjust himself in his own swimsuit when he saw you bend over to hand max another drink before you sat down on the chair beside him.

to test the waters, max leaned forward to your warm cheek but with his eyes on charles. he placed his large hand on your belly and winked at the other driver. charles' eyes went wide before he turned away, probably to get another drink.

"what are you doing, schat?" you asked.

he pressed a kiss to your cheek and dodged the question as he responded, "your dutch is sounding better, mijn vrouw." then gave your swollen middle a rub.

-

"hey, charles. i need some advice." max said with his phone in his hand. they were about to get ready to practice in spain. he leaned over to charles when the other man looked at him.

"yeah?"

max showed his phone to charles, "do you think the red or the blue looks better?"

charles raised his eyebrows at the other man as he took the phone. he almost dropped it when he saw the first photo. it was you in front of the full length mirror in a red pair of underwear that went over the bump you were sprouting and a matching bra with a bow in the middle that was yellow.

the thing that took charles off guard was that the red of the garments were not a nice maroon or even bordering on a pinky colour. no it was red, ferrari red.

max reached over and swiped to the next picture. it was a similar set but except in the same dark blue colour of max's driving suit paired with a little red bow in the center of the bra. ferrari and red bull. the dutch driver seemed unfazed as he asked, "so which one, leclerc? i'm thinking she looks better in the blue."

charles looked at max and exhaled deeply, "are you trying to kill me?"

max feigned confusion as he responded, "i thought we were friends, charles." he shrugged and added, "you stare at her enough, i thought you'd know what she looked good in. i'm pretty sure if she sat in the stands, you'd crash just to get a good look at her. so which is it, red or blue?"

charles' jaw tensed and he looked back at the photo on max's phone, "red." he replied.

-

you sat there at the edge of the bed with your thighs pressed together. you looked at both of the men in front of you with your arms crossed.

"hello mrs. verstappen." charles said as he slowly took off his driving jacket, "you look.. good."

you raised your eyebrows and chuckled, "oh charlie." you said, "do you have a thing for mothers?" you hard to lighten the mood because both men were looking at you like hungry wolves.

charles looked away for a moment and rolled his shoulders, "i mean, you and max have given me a wonderful oppurtunity. i couldn't say no!"

you and max laughed, then you spoke as you leaned forward. you took his hand and pulled him a little forward as you leaned back a little again, then placed his hand on your stomach.

"i'm sure my husband went through all the rules?" you weren't going to throw yourself onto charles or let max control the entire situation, not that your husband would've done that. so there were rules, rules that all three parties tonight had the follow.

the driver nodded his head quickly, "yes, max went over it twice." he spread his hand further across your bump.

you tilted your head to the side and asked, "what is the number one rule?"

charles swallowed, "we never talk about this after tonight?"

you looked to your husband for a moment before you took charles' other hand and placed it on your swollen middle. you then asked, "rule two?"

charles leaned a little more forward, "use protection."

you nodded and smiled at him, "such a good boy." you looked at max as you reached up and combed your fingers through charles' hair, "where have you been hiding him?" and laughed.

charles swallowed, his face went pink. his hands planted on your belly, not applying any pressure as to not hurt you. he mumbled, "thank you, madame."

you took him by the face and looked him in the eyes. you were all smiles and laughter. you pulled him in for a soft kiss, when you parted you said, "and that's rule three. max is monsieur and i am madame, correct?"

he nodded, "oui, madame!"

max came up behind charles and started to get the ferrari branded t-shirt off his torso. he leaned in to the other driver, "you're going to treat my wife well tonight, charlie?"

charles thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest. he let max takes the shirt off of him and he was pulled into bed with you. his eyes went wide as he ended up beside you on the king sized hotel room.

you were still in the underwear and got yourself close to charles. you took him by the face and kissed him gently, your belly brushed against his abdomen as the two of you made out.

charles' didn't know what to do with his hands, but max's voice rang in his head, "just touch her." which gave him the courage to explore your body with his hands.

the bed shifted as max got behind you, his hands on your body too. you giggled at their touches between kisses. max pulled the underwear down under your belly, exposed your swell to him.

charles got a good sight of your swollen middle, free of clothes and swallowed as he pulled away from the kiss. his eyes stayed on you. max rested his chin on your shoulder, he looked at his fellow driver and had both hands on your belly.

"jealous?" max seemed almost cocky.

charles swallowed, "i feel like this is a trick question. you are very pretty, madame, but i am afraid your husband might kill me if i say too much."

max chuckled against your skin, "i'll allow it, leclerc. but don't think this is a daily thing. she is still my wife." his hands went to your breasts and groped them through the bra.

you felt hot between the two men. their hands trailed along your body until they began to grow impatient. max's lips were on your neck and charles' lips were on your own. your husband undid your bra and with a little held from you, he got it off your body.

the process for all three of you to get out of your clothes was a slow process but eventually the three of you were naked and charles got himself in between your legs.

your head was in your husband's lap with his cock up against your cheek. you were laid out on your back, your pregnancy bump on full display.

charles swallowed, "you're very pretty, madame."

if anyone caught the three of you in such a compromising position, the media would have a field day. two rivals and a wife in the middle. the sound you made when charles' dove his tongue between your lags was almost pornographic and made max's cock twitch against your face.

you kicked your legs out and charles held you by the hips as he feverishly lapped at your pussy. you shuddered and felt a skip in your heartbeat.

charles had thought frequently about your pussy. there was something about it that made his cock stir. he would never admit it to anyone (especially not max, he wasn't insane), but he had masturbated to the thought of fucking your sweet pussy. it was like a dirty little secret that he kept buried deep inside. but he guessed he wasn't so good at hiding it, considering that you and max figured it out.

he continued to lap at your sex and your hands went into his hair, you held on tightly then turned you head and started to kiss at max's cock. max enjoyed the sight in front of him, his longtime rival and friend alongside his wife.

it was a kind of debauchery that would never leave the bedroom. your moans were music to his ears paired with the sounds of charles between your legs. if max was a little braver he'd try to get his phone to take a photo, but rules were rules.

he tensed up a little bit as you continued to lick his cock from the odd angle. your tongue and lips on his length was always a nice surprise. his own hand was in your hair as he guided you up and down his cock.

the entire room grew hot as the sun set over the horizon, the late afternoon light glimmered through the large windows of the hotel room. two drivers and a driver's wife were tangled up in bed. charles between your legs, his cock heavy and leaky against the bed. and you between your husband's legs, playing with his cock.

you clutched onto charles' hair when you felt the warmth of climax pool in your gut. you tensed up and moaned, gripping onto his dark hair. you raised your hips a little to rub up against him further.

"shit, charles." you panted as you came on his tongue.

charles groaned against your cunt as continued to lap at you like a hungry animal. when you relaxed, he pulled his face again. the bottom half gleamed with your wetness and his pupils were dilated. not to mention

max chuckled and when charles' was resting on his heels, cock painfully erect, the dutchman grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a searing kiss. charles' cock twitched at the feeling of max's lips against his.

your eyes went wide at the sight of it.

"my wife tastes good, does she not?" max asked when he pulled away, his grip still hard on charles' shoulder as if to steady the other man.

charles nodded and swallowed, "lucky man." then watched as max grabbed a condom from the box on the nightstand.

max reached down and held you face to look up at him. he looked down at you, "i think you should thank charles for his hard work."

you looked to the other driver and smirked, your head still abuzz, "thank you, charlie."

charles smiled, "of course, madame."

you and max watched charles put the condom on. he was painfully hard, the tip almost purple and achy. he was leaky with precum. max thought this was a perfect time to tease his fellow driver, "charles?"

the other man looked at him.

the dutch driver continued, "what do you like about my wife?" he ran his fingers through your hair as you once again kissed his cock, "i see how you look at her. you know she is not a piece of meat." he shook his head a little, "you could have almost any woman in the world, and you're here with me and my wife. why?"

charles leaned back a little and stroked his condom covered cock, the lube on it getting all over his palm. his cheeks were bright pink, bordering on red as he said, "i can't help but be a little jealous." he felt a little more embolden to speak, "she looks so good carrying your child. makes me wish it were mine." he swallowed and looked at max, "i've dreamt of this moment since the first moment you brought her to the paddock."

max looked down at you, "i told you, you'd make the impression." then looked back to charles, "i suggest you make that dream a reality before she gets impatient." then flashed a smile at the other driver.

charles took you by the thighs then kept one hand on you and the other on his cock as he examined your soaked pussy. he felt an excitement through his body as he inched his cock into your pussy. he could feel max's blue eyes on him as he sank all the way in.

the noise you made sent a thrill through him as he kept you by the thighs and started to rut against you. charles fucked you, while you orally pleasured max.

max kept his hands in your hair, charles' hands were on your hips and your fists were knotted in the white bed sheet. you could feel the pleasure course through your body.

the bed moved under your collective movements, the sounds of sex was heavy in the air as was the heat between three bodies. this was nothing short of a miracle that this even happened, that everything aligned perfectly.

"she's a pretty girl, isn't she, charles? you should be lucky i'm letting you have sex with her. you're a lucky man." max said as he continued to guide your head onto his cock while the other driver bullied his cock into you, "you fuck like an animal, leclerc. remember she is pregnant, be a little gentle."

charles licked his lips, "can't help it."

max reached across and grabbed the other man by the hair and looked him in the eyes. it was all fun and games until you got hurt. he raised his eyebrows at the other man. both of them were flushed in the cheeks and could feel the sweat on their bodies, "i'm not having my wife be in pain because of you, leclerc."

charles slowed down a little, "sorry... monsieur."

max found it endearing seeing charles like this. the rivalry between them ran deep, but to see the ferarri driver just come apart at the feeling of your pussy around his cock. it was something else. he pulled him in for a hot kiss as both men moved against you, sandwiching your pregnant body between them.

if max knew that he could make charles so submissive, he would've proposed this a long time ago.

you covered your face from the heat that grew on your cheeks. but max noticed when he stopped kissing charles. he looked down at you and peeled your hands away from your face.

"no need to hide, mijn liefje." he said with love in his voice. the strong dominance was slowly slipping the more you caved under pressure.

he kept your hands pinned to the his thighs as you whined. your lips went back to his cock. a pace was soon established. it was less of a carnal, quick fuck and more of a slow, hot sex.

you felt the curl in your gut of pleasure. you could feel the heat in your body as you gave and received pleasure. you were the first to finish. you came for a second time and kicked out your legs from the intensity of it all.

"oh mon dieu." charles panted as he felt the sweat trail down his back, he was trying to keep it together as to not hurt you. your body was an alluring siren in his mind. his cock twitched inside of your sweet pussy.

a fertile beauty, carrying the child of his rival. it was strange, but it left charles aching for more.

"she's just that good." max purred, seeing the expressions cross charles' face, his head clouded with lust as well. the entire environment felt hot and sensual.

"i'm gonna finish." charles choked out, as if looking for permission to do so.

max looked down at you, pleasure was marked on your expression. he relayed charles' request to you, "may he come?"

you nodded and swallowed, trying to regain yourself. your husband's cock painfully hard against your face. pre-cum oozed across your skin, making it tacky and shiny. you'd look like a whore if it weren't for the gleaming wedding ring that max had meticulously picked out.

"use your words." max cooed. he had let go of your wrists to pump his own cock that was still wet with your spit. the sight of you was erotic and filled him with a smugness and a lust.

you opened your eyes a little more and looked at charles. you said with as much steadiness as you could muster, "please.. cum.. now."

charles panted and replied, "oui, mon cheri."

max could've wrung the other driver's neck for breaking the rules, but the three of you were so lost in the pleasure and the heat of lust that it could slide... just this once.

with a hard thrust of his hips, charles' buried his cock into you and finished with a loud groan. he could feel the shudder of pleasure in his body. a heightened euphoria that left him panting wildly. he rambled, mixing between english and french, he could feel his heartbeat in his ears.

exhausted, you flipped yourself over as fast as a five month pregnant woman could and fully gave your husband the oral sex he deserved. charles watched your head bob up and down quickly.

"that's it." max purred before he sank his cock down your throat and finished quickly. the feeling was too much for him.

you took your mouth off your husband's cock and wiped the side of your mouth, "okay, okay. i'm done. mama's tired." then chuckled a little bit, exhausted.

both men weren't going to argue, even if the fucked-out mrs. verstappen was a sight to behold.

the three of you soon after laid in a tangled mess, you pressed against your husband while he was resting against the headboard and charles' face pressed against your back. his arms wrapped loosely around you.

max played with your hair as he asked charles, "and what do we say?" getting a slight glee out of the authoritative tone towards charles.

the other driver yawned, "merci beaucoup, monsieur et madame."

-

charles saw you and max again only a few weeks later at silverstone. it was rainy and a bit colder. max had put his jacket over your shoulders and kissed you on the cheek. charles had been having a hard time keeping it together since spain.

max pulled the hood of the jacket over your head to protect you from the light rain. he kissed you on the lips before you leaned up to him to whisper something in his ear. he smirked and whispered something back, his gaze was towards charles who was nearby.

later the dutch driver would ask, "hey charles. red or blue?" <3

[shadowwalkerimagines]

Hell’s Canyon: 2

『 Hell’s Canyon: Run 1, Day 2: Awkward 』 Undertale - Convergent Mob AU | Sans (Various) / You; Papyrus (Various) / You; Reader Insert; Second-Person Point of View

Rating: M | Warnings for this fic: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Dark Fic, Dark Themes, Kidnapping, Drug Use, Non-consensual Drug Use, Obsessive Behavior, Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships, Power Imbalance

Summary: Hell’s Canyon is a city plagued by crime and poverty. You moved here a few years ago, intent on following your dreams and bettering your career—you had no plans to linger any longer than necessary, after all, but... This city doesn’t just let people go. Especially not when you manage to catch the eye of those that run Hell’s underbelly.

You better make the right decisions if you want to make it out of this city in one piece.

At the end of each update Readers are presented with a choice. It’s up to you to make the right one.

You need to make a decision. Do you…

► [Check the suite?]

[Go home?]

As much as you would like to just turn around and ditch this stupidly suspicious errand, you can’t write off the possibility that this really is an urgent delivery.

You grumble a few expletives and colorful insults before snatching up the envelope and exiting your vehicle with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. The slamming of your car door is certainly uncalled for.  “Just drop it off and then go home,” you narrate to yourself. “Drop it off, finish this stupid, fishy little errand and then it’s cake time.”

Walking onto the sidewalk, you trail along the suites, silently musing that this place could honestly pass for a roadside motel. The setup certainly shares similarities, what with the generic door and adjacent window combination.

13, 14, 15, 16, 17… and 18.

You are stopped before a door no more and no less embellished than all the others. The window is closed and the blinds are shut, so you have no clue as to what lies within. There is no signage, no nameplate or anything to indicate the setup inside but you are almost done. Just one small step and then you will be free to indulge in cakey goodness!

You reach for the doorknob and twist, pushing the door open. You are immediately hit with the all too recognizable scent of cigarette smoke and something else you can’t quite put your finger on. Switching to breathing through your mouth, you take note of the cramped room before you.

There is a surprising amount of clutter in the form of cardboard boxes and plastic containers stacked against the walls and in the middle of the room, reaching nearly floor to ceiling. There is a man standing before you, hunched over as he reaches for a box, and you don’t miss the way his hand starts reaching for his waist as he watches you.

“Who’re you?” he grumbles out, eyes narrowing as he shifts to stand. “Ain’t expectin’ no one today.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Did Robert write down the wrong address? Are you about to get yourself killed? Trying to stamp down your panic, you stumble out,

“I’m uh… I’m here for Bobbie?”

When the guy begins to frown, you hastily present the envelope, all the while cursing Robert and yourself for agreeing to this. You should have known better!

With the cramped quarters it only takes the man a couple steps to reach you and rip the envelope from your quickly sweating palm. He thankfully abandons whatever he had been reaching for at his waist.

The man easily rips the envelope open and you are surprised to find only a single sheet had been inside. You watch as he scans it, tongue clicking in unveiled annoyance, before tossing it over his shoulder. You watch as it flutters to the floor and ignore the unhelpful image your mind supplies of you similarly following its lead.

“Piece of shit…” he grumbles, his attention immediately returning to you. You hope you didn’t jump at his grumble, chalking it off to your overactive mind. One thing you can’t ignore, however, is just how like a rabbit being appraised by a wolf you feel.

You are struck with the thought that you should have turned around when you had the chance.

Just as muscles tense in your legs and you prepare yourself to run, the guy clicks his tongue again and growls, “What, ya got somethin’ else for me?” At the startled shake of your head he snarls, “Well hurry up ‘n get your ass outta here then!”

You don’t need to be told twice.

In a blur, you are out of the cramped room and speed walking back to your car. You don’t remember grabbing your keys but they are already in hand, teeth biting into your skin from how tight your grip is.

The drive home is a blur as you pour all your focus on driving. It is not until you have parked in the driveway of your rental and are behind the relative safety of the immediately locked security door and bulky front door that you feel you are able to breathe.

What in the hell had that been about?

God, you are going to rip into Robert tomorrow for lying because there is no way in hell what you just partook in had anything to do with your job. Something churns, heavy and sickening, in your gut at the thought you might have taken part in some kind of illegal act. But no, no that couldn’t be, despite how utterly suspicious that exchange and man had been. Robert probably just has a questionable taste in friends.  Just because crime has been on the rise and Hell’s Canyon has never been known to be a “safe” city, to assume every intimidating tough guy you meet might be part of some kind of crime ring is stereotyping! You had only handed off a sheet of paper, what sort of nefariousness could possibly be tied to that?

Once again you tell yourself Robert is just a shitty guy with equally shitty friends. And absolutely no more “helpful” errand runs for the asshole, absolutely not. Besides, you have better things to do with your time—like stuff yourself with an entire mini chocolate cake! If you didn’t deserve it before, you sure as hell do now.

* * *

When you go in to work the following day you are curious to note that Emma is working the office. That’s rare these days, she is usually off covering the affiliate building; she only ever comes when she is needed to cover another supervisor’s shift.

“Good morning,” you greet her, perplexed. You had spent the entire drive to work building yourself up to tear Robert a new one and he doesn’t even show up?

“Hey,” she returns, “I’m filling in for Rob today, bastard no-called.” At your quirked eyebrow and narrowed gaze, she gives a tight lipped tilt of her head, eyebrows raised as she glances off to the side. “Yup. I don’t know how he keeps his position either but you know. Sucking Joe off on the weekends probably has its perks.”

At your wide-eyed stare and startled, “oh my god,” Emma promptly waves it off.

“C’mon, everyone thinks it. How else would a schmuck like him have gotten hired?” You flush and peek around in a panic—the shop hasn’t even opened and you are the only two in the building at the moment but your paranoia has you on high alert regardless. You had forgotten how uh... “colorful” Emma’s manner of speech is. “Look,” she nonchalantly continues, purposefully ignorant of how gobsmacked you are, “if I could setup a similar deal with Bee, I’d lay myself at her feet in a heartbeat any day of the week.”

You fidget in place. As much as you prefer Emma to Robert, you are quite sure this is not the kind of discussion to have or language to use at work. What if someone overhears? You certainly don’t need a write-up further hindering your plans. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop for now,” Emma relents with a good-natured chuckle, graciously deciding to cut you a break. “I’ll be in the office if you need me. I trust you don’t need any help opening?”

“Yeah, I’m good!” you all but yell, eager to be free of the uncomfortable exchange. Judging by the heat you can feel radiating from your face, you must be incredibly flushed.

Thankfully the woman leaves you be and you set about getting the money from the safe and the till ready. As awkward and painful as that was, it was still loads preferable to the alternative.

It is just as you prepare to turn on the shop’s heavy machinery, with still about ten minutes to go until opening, that you hear a knock at the shop’s glass door—three quick and sharp raps.

Whoever could that be? You…

[Answer the door]

[Ignore it—they can wait until you open.]

[teacherintransition]

“A good Cuban cigar closes the doors to the vulgarities of the world.” — Franz Liszt

…but it opens the door to peaceful reflection, stimulating conversation and a unique camaraderie.

My wife is so proud of me. Not for the writing and art commissions …well, yes those things, I hope, but particularly for an act of incredible will and determination. I ..yes, me …Brent Rich, your favorite teacher in transition, have not smoked a cigar in five weeks; and it f****** sucks. This state I find myself is not for the reason you might think. Perhaps you’re thinking I’m doing this for my health? Oh, nay, silly rabbit; well maybe a wee bit. Back in Tha Haem an Abode O’ Tha Rich Fowk in Nacogdoches, where we were from mid October to the end of December, I was visiting the finest cigar lounge and establishment one could imagine on an almost daily basis. (Insert Gratuitous commercial plug …here… The Nacogdoches Cigar Company…incredible cigars and amazing people)

I did not visit the aforementioned landmark primarily for the taste, pleasure and enjoyment of their fine tobacco products …I did. The overriding motivation for my perhaps too often visits to the cigar lounge was the friendship and delightful conversation to be had there. Yes my friends… I succumbed to peer pressure. Not in the teenage form of if you don’t jump off this bridge in nothing but your Chuck Taylors you’re just not cool; but for another similar reason: socialization. Allow me to explain.

When one retires, as I’ve mentioned ad infinitum, one’s social interactions are dramatically reduced. Upon reflection, one discovers that most of these interactions were all chit chatty, (I HATE CHIT CHAT) work related, meaningless dribble. No offense former colleagues, it’s just that in ye olde public school work environment, it’s difficult to converse freely and be your self. I’m in post employment retirement, I’m not settling for chit chat. I enjoyed the occasional cigar, but would not touch cigarettes; yes, there is a significant health difference says the man who was smoking 8-10 cigars a week. It was not until our local cigar lounge opened that I became “a regular.”

Quiet, solitary reflection and introspection are valuable pursuits when living the life, but meaningful social interactions are a must. I’m not a church guy, so that ain’t happening. I don’t play golf often to accumulate golf buddies, and since the 2018 closing of the revered pub, The Liberty Bell, (excuse me while I genuflect) there’s no public house to frequent. What’s a guy to do? At our cigar lounge, I’ve found my niche.

When a group of wise, slight aged, sophisticated gentlemen get together with fine cigars the world trembles at the searing logic of the razor sharp wit brought forth in a conversation of such men. I exaggerate …a little. Hours are spent discussing politics, sports, music, travel etcetera …etcetera …etcetera. Usually all of this high minded discourse is accompanied by a fine whiskey/whisky and close friendships are formed. Yeah, it’s a thing.

In Alexandria, I had the Pineville Cigar Club; in Granbury, I had the Granbury Cigar Company to substitute for our lounge in Nacogdoches. In Round Rock, amid all of restaurants, bars, museums, I’ve yet to find a conveniently located lounge that doesn’t request that one smokes outside on a patio. Outside? It’s been f******* cold and we are not barbarians. I’ve met some art folks at the local gallery and have a few old friends from back in the day that live in the area; but for the most part, my socialization has been stunted. But hey, at least I know that there is no addiction to tobacco. An addiction to friends, good talk and a quality social circle …yeah I’m hooked.

[dandunn]

Tag game! tagged by @pokeharvest :3c

1. Three ships: Zoro/Luffy, Ace/Sanji and Lupin III polygang, but primarily Jiglup/Jigoe...

That's more than three isn't it. Whatever.

2. First ever ship: I think I used to multiship the Teen Titans gang with each other and also with my self insert character, hah.

3. Last song: Some Kind of Ghoul - Joe Zempel.

4. Last film: I think I attempted to watch Super 8 but I wasn't concentrating on it whatsoever oops. I'm waiting on my copy of Jojo Rabbit to get here

5. Currently reading: Watership Down!!! my beloved

6. Currently watching: Mostly just Vinesauce joel/vinny, also waiting on new Better Call Saul episodes 😭

7. Currently consuming: my second cup of coffee of today

8. Currently craving: headache pills/a cigarette dont smoke kids

tagging: @the-golden-ghost, @dying-suffering-french-stalkers, @pingo1387

[jackrrabbit]

about me /// 3k follower thanks 💝

ok what in the fuckign—

thanks for 3k followers, guys!!! I actually hit 3k abt a week ago and I was going to make a post about it but I forgot bc of soft sunday lol. I went back to my 1k annnouncement and it was like, a month ago !?!?!?!?!?!?!? which means 2K IN ONE MONTH?? EYE—

y’all horny but.....same. and thank you for thirsting with me!! decided it was time to make a more detailed about me in case any of you are curious about what kind of person is writing this stuff lmao

ABOUT ME

Hello! (≧◡≦) ♡

My name is [redacted], but you can call me Bunny (or sensei if you’re feeling kinky). I’m 20 years old, which is nice because I’m old enough to write porn but young enough to still be excited about adulthood ✨ As of summer 2020 I’m a college senior at a university in California, where I study psychology and law, or “manipulation tactics” as my friends have lovingly dubbed my combination of majors 🤡🤡🤡

I’m a bi woman and I use she/her pronouns! I’m ethnically Indian/Chinese/white & I grew up in the USA. My western zodiac is scorpio ☀️ (surprise surprise), libra 🌙, and capricorn ⬆️; my eastern zodiac is the year of the rabbit 🐇!! My MBTI type is ENFP-T, which is the campaigner I think?? not sure

I like: pink lemonade, west coast sunsets, kissing strangers, skinny dipping in places you’re not supposed to go skinny dipping, ice wine, hiking at night, free samples at farmers markets, and plum trees in bloom 🌸

I dislike: commitment, deadlines, the fact that there’s dairy in everything for no good reason, cleaning up, sitting still, the smell of cigarette smoke, soap operas (altho I still watch them), and Natural Light 🍺

Writing: I’ve basically been writing my whole life, but I started in fandom when I was like 12 with OC x character fanfic (which turned out to be thinly-veiled self insert? a common staple of the FF.net era) and then gave up on it when I couldn’t stay interested ☠️ Re-emerged in fandom after I graduated HS with a 80k word character/character fic that needs about 10k words to the finish line…one of these days I’ll get around to finishing it 🙈 but truly that fic rekindled my love for writing and I’ll always be grateful to it and the entire fandom for making me a better writer 💜💜

And onto the present era…I’ve always been into the kind of stuff I write now (e.g. kink, dubcon, etc.), but I never really knew where to find it bc none of the fandoms I was into had people writing the stuff I wanted to read, until I discovered bnha x reader smut really randomly while I was browsing some kink tag in winter 2019.

Before that, I didn’t understand reader insert & honestly could never get into it, but after going down a rabbit hole of ‘x reader’ smut I was like, hmm, this do be kinda hot? So I watched BNHA, feverishly wrote Sidekick while I was alone for a few weeks over winter break, and thus this blog was made.

On the topic of s*x—I’m an extremely open & sex-positive person and I’m lucky enough to be surrounded by friends who feel the same. We go to kink clubs & lingerie parties together; we text each other pictures of our new sex toys; we have a book club where we read Foucault's History of Sexuality and talk about how sex, repression, and liberation have shaped our lives. Although they don’t know that I write smut about anime characters and post it online, my close friends are well aware that I write “erotica”, and all of them are encouraging and supportive.

If you don’t have friends like that in your life, message me! I would love to be that friend for you, and I’m always down to thirst about a character/situation 🤤

As always, followers are welcome to ask me questions about myself!

[jokemoved2electricbugaloo]

“Based on your…” he stops himself, over-enunciates, “is it ‘your’...?” Then reels upright and tap-tap-taps the heels of his hands on the table, “Performance…” if it can be called that. Joker’s cartoonish red brows vanish when he wrinkles his forehead. “—in Serbia, I’d think,” he drags a chair holding Lilac’s leopard print baby basket so close that his elbow knocks it every time he resumes smoking; “Maybe you need a facelift, yeah? Something about…” the cigarette falls back between his fingers, though he forgets to breathe, “a 76% success rate — that’s better than zero, but what happens when these freaks revert back to factory settings?”

More than the eyeball reaper emblem interpolates them — it has to. A viral sizzle reel of torture porn featuring former top-killer Nix and a sea of backyard gladiator style death matches in an array of settings…primarily Gotham…flashes across a red iPhone. Each gory scene transitions with blood splashing across the drone and/or ‘INSERT NAME, WINS’ in bright pink. ‘Skizm’ runs side by side with the media-fed ‘Kill the Rich’ on every bare stretch of wall in the city. 

Escape almost seems like an oasis from the chaos, guarded by plants and fairy lights on the patio — more like the Bratva, though Joker avoids making it obvious there are eyes peeking through the curtains inside and men in parked vehicles fully armed. Joker clears his throat, continues sliding the glass of water around that he hasn’t touched, then taps the transcript of a podcast by Daddy Doubletapz titled, ‘Kill the Bitch and Stream It.’

Joker keeps his eyes downcast, though the table’s begun to jump from his shaking leg. Lilac starts to fuss in her pink rabbit onesie, so he unbuckles and lays her in the crook of his arm. “You think,” he runs out of wind, “you think there’s a twelve-step program for these nutjobs…or should I just resume blowing holes through their heads in groups?”

☻ @brutlist​​ ​⋆˚✩ | STARTER CALL | ACCEPTING !!

[lancetuckershairgel]

Dollhouse

Chapter Three: Procedure

Characters: Jefferson x Reader

Words: 1,110

Warnings: dark, medical fetish, body modification, breast enlargement, mention of blood (just the word no graphic details), stitches, smoking, brainwashing, edging with vibrator, non consent

AN: Surprise! I dropped another chapter unexpectedly and hold on to your flashlights because its getting dark in here y'all.

Tag List: @southernbell91 @marvelgirl7 @buckysforeverprincess @tranquil–heart @brat-in-a-teacup @anxiousamandapanda @msruchita @i-have-arrived-bitch @buckysteveloki-me @kissmecap @angryknightstatesmantrash @stupendousshepherdloverpony @slytheringswift @marvelfansworld (If you want to be added or removed let me know)

Three days had passed since Jefferson had brought his new toy home. The madman had been busy making the less severe of the modifications he had planned for her and the poor girl was already broken, or so she thought. After Jefferson had removed every strand of hair from her body, including her head, he forced her to look at herself in a mirror. She couldn’t even recognize herself, her eyes were swollen from crying, her face was flushed pale white from fear, and her beautiful blonde locks were no more. He had even waxed her eyebrows away. She sobbed as she looked away from her once beautiful reflection and he just laughed. 

“Oh, my precious doll, this is just the beginning of what I have planned for you.” He spoke darkly as he stroked her bald head “I’m going to push you so far down the rabbit hole you’ll never come back.”

Jefferson placed a kiss on the naked crown of her head and walked away, leaving her bound to the steel table to process what he had said. When he came back hours later he was carrying three bags of fluids.  One of them was a bag of blood which he put in a cooler to be used another time. The other two, a bag of saline and a bag of nutrients, were then hung upon a metal stand. After Jefferson inserted the medicine IV into her arm he began to prepare the saline. 

“Know where this one’s going, Doll?” He asked as he held up the needle, watching the drops drip down 

She shook her head, whimpering into the gag. While she was thankful he hadn’t gagged her with a rag that would dry her mouth out this time, she hated the dental gag. It stretched her mouth wide and the metal against her teeth hurt. 

“It’s going right into your tits. The viewers love when the dolls have huge tits. More fun to abuse too.”

With that, Jefferson inserted the needle into the meaty flesh of her breast and began the drip. It was cold, she could feel the saline filling her breasts and while it didn’t hurt she was terrified of what the end result would be. While Jefferson waited he lit a cigarette and sat on the rolling stool, taking a long drag. He blew the smoke out directly into her face and laughed when she coughed and her eyes watered. 

“You know what my daddy used to do to me when he finished smoking?” Jefferson asked her without looking in her direction as he took another pull “He used to call me over and tell me to lift my shirt. Fucker would put the stub out on my back.”

She didn’t have the chance to feel sorry for him because all thoughts were immediately focused on the burning pain and disgusting taste on her tongue. Jefferson had ashed the cigarette into her open mouth and if she wouldn’t choke to death on her own vomit she would have puked. She had no choice but to swallow the disgusting black ash. 

Fifteen minutes and another cigarette later and Jefferson stood and removed the needle carefully from her breast. 

“Already a cup size bigger.” He remarked

She groaned when he gave her breast a squeeze, suddenly aware of how tender the globe of flesh was. Tears slipped down her cheek as he inserted the needle into the other breast to finish the bag. 

“I think twice a day for a few days will do the trick, don’t you?”

Now  here she was three days later bound to a high backed chair that resembled an upright dental chair. He arms and neck were strapped to the chair and her legs were splayed far apart and strapped down at the thighs and calves. Her breasts were huge now, swollen and sore. They jutted out from her chest and ached with the slightest movement, something Jefferson had no issue taking advantage of. 

Jefferson stood in front of her, one arm folded across his chest and his other hand resting against his face as he tapped a finger against his chin. 

“There’s still so much to do to you but I think now we should begin your training. I’m not a professional doctor but I do know that we need to take these procedures slowly. A little mind warping should give you a nice break.”

“Mind what now?” She thought to herself 

Jefferson placed headphones over her ears, making sure they were snug, before placing a black latex hood over her head. Unknown to her the hood had the face of a doll painted onto it, an unsettling face that would give a child nightmares and even Jefferson wasn’t a fan of it but the pictures he’d take and show her later to humiliate her made the creep factor worth it. The hood was tight and if it weren’t for the small holes under the nostrils she wouldn’t be able to breathe. The hood also prevented any light from penetrating and she was left completely blinded. This terrified her and she sniffled. She would have screamed and begged him to release her but he had clipped her vocal cords the night of her first day, after the second round of saline injections, just as he said he would and to prevent her from doing any damage to her throat he had sewn her lips together, temporarily. She could only thank her lucky stars that he had drugged her for that particular procedure although he didn’t want to, it was just necessary to prevent damage. 

She twisted her body in the restraints in an attempt to find any slack but there was none. All she could do was sit and wait for him to begin. She jumped and made a gurgling noise when she felt something slick and cold press against her labia, spreading the lips apart. Jefferson used his fingers to spread a numbing lubricant over her sex, coating the clit well. Then he moved a metal stand in front of her and lowered the arm to the correct height. The stand had a vibrating wand attached to it and she jerked when she felt the buzzing head press against her exposed vagina. She tried to squirm away but it was no use. 

“Welcome to your new life.”

Jefferson’s deep voice came through the headphones

“You’re no longer human. You no longer have a name. You are an object and a toy to be used for my pleasure.”

The pre recorded message played on an endless and the vibrator buzzed mercilessly at her clit, slowly breaking down her will. 

[nerdynarrator28]

No Regrets

A/N: Here it is Nonny!! The Arthur x Reader Smut!! I hope you enjoy it! This is my first time writing Arthur! Soo again I hope you enjoy it! Along with everyone else too! ❤️☺️

Warning(s): Fluff/Smut

Pairing(s): Arthur X Reader

Summary: You were in the gang, for maybe about two years now. You helped with missions, cleaning, doctoring. You had a certain eye on some Cowboy, Arthur Morgan was his name. You wanted him badly..but would he want you. You were inexperienced in sex, would he want you still.

——————————-❤️————————————

Everyone in the camp was sitting around the camp fire, drinking and laughing having a good time. You of course, was sitting underneath a tree, with a journal you keep with you. You loved drawing, it was very peaceful for your soul.

You were currently sketching a small rabbit who was a few feet away. Something spooked it, making it hop away.

You huffed, “god..damnit.”

You closed your journal and sat it down next to yourself. You closed your eyes, taking in the swamp smell, with the warm air surrounding you.

The gang had recently moved down to, Shady Belle close to Rhodes which Arthur and Lenny had found. It was nice big plantation house, finally something with a roof instead a tent. You chuckled to yourself at the thought.

Footsteps shuffled your way, making you re open your eyes and look up to see Arthur standing there with a hand on his belt. He had a cigarette in the other hand, taking a puff of it before he spoke. You loved hearing his voice, it turned you on very much.

“I see..yer enjoying yer self out here..” he nodded to the journal you had.

You smiled, “of course..Arthur..” you chuckled, “I was sketching, a rabbit..but something spooked the damn thing.”

Arthur let out a harty chuckle, and tossed his cigarette when he was done with it.

“Is that so Y/N.” He grunted as he sat down besides you.

“Yes..Arthur.” You giggle, making him smile and nodded his head while looking down.

Arthur Morgan was a very shy man and stumbled over his words when it came to women. But anything else, he was very outspoken for. Seeing you sitting there he enjoyed it but he didn’t want to say it because he was afraid. Things were quiet between the two you before you spoke up.

“Thank you..Arthur..for finding this place.”

He chuckled, “well..thank Lenny..he told me about the damn place.”

You giggled, “well thank you both..I guess..it’s nice to have a roof over us.”

He nodded his head with a soft smile playing on his lips, “of course.. Y/N..yer welcome.”

Arthur rubbed his chin, with his gloved hand. You took in the features of this man, he saved you plenty of times. You were very thankful of that, if it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be here. You had eyes on this man, he made you feel things that you didn’t know you could feel.

“Y/N..are ya okay..”

“Yeah..I’m fine..” you smiled, with a soft blush appearing on your face. Arthur laughed standing up helping you, by taking your hand.

“Thank you Arthur.”

He nodded, “yer welcome Y/N. I’ll see you ‘round.” He gave you a smile before leaving.

“Damnit..Arthur Morgan” you huffed as you stormed inside the house and up to the room.

...

Later that night, you were sitting by the campfire, with Sean, Javier, Uncle, Micah and Lastly Arthur.

You smiled over to Arthur, as he handed you some whiskey. You took it, and took a swig of it, Arthur left for a few minutes but he told you he was going to be back.

“So..Y/N..a-are you a-a virgin.” Sean drunkly stated, with a smirk.

You felt the heat rise to your face, “I’m not..I’m not goin’ to answer that..Sean.” You were embrassed, with such a question but it was Sean and he was drunk.

“C’mon sweetheart..tell ol Micah..so he can take care of ya..”

“No micah..stop it..l-“ you stammered, as he walked over to you and tried to kiss you.

“Micah..Stop..it” you cried, Arthur heard your cry and walked quickly seeing Micah trying to force a kiss on you.

He growled, as he grabbed Micah and tossed him on the ground, “You Damn Drunken Fool..Ya Leave Y/N alone..Ya hear.. or I will take care of you myself..” he had his finger pointed in Micah’s face.

Micah chuckled with a smirk, “you seen she want-“ he was cut off by Arthur Punching the living shit out of him. Micah was knocked out.

You pulled over your Shaw, and walked over to Arthur and softly placed a hand on his arm. He turned to look at you and placed his hands on each side of your arms.

“Are ya..a’right” he huffed, you slowly nodded your head, with tears escaping your eyes.

“C’mon..let’s..let’s go take a walk.”

You nodded, as he placed a hand on the small of your back. Arthur and you walked towards the back of the house, and sat on the back steps.

“Arthur..thank you.. for saving me again.”

He softly chuckled, “Well yer welcome again.” He sighed, “what happened Y/N. Back there”

You closed your eyes, and sighed. “Sean..he asked..if I was a virgin..” you blushed while whispering the last part.

A tiny blush appears on Arthur’s cheeks, he coughed and bent his head down keeping his eyes on his hands.

“Oh..well..” he coughed.

You blushed, “Yeah, I listen..Arthur I’m real s’rry that I told you that..”

He chuckled, “it’s a’right Y/N..I asked.”

Things again were quiet between the two of you, while in the background the tree frogs, and bull frogs were singing. Also the crickets were chirping and fireflys were flying around.

“Arthur..can I ask you..a personal question.” You spoke softly.

“Soah” he grunted as he took out a cigarette and lit it.

“How..how many women have you been with..”

Arthur coughed, almost choking on his cigarette, he blew out the smoke. “Y/N..I- listen you’re a very sweet girl..”

“Arthur Morgan..I’m fine..I can handle it..”

Arthur blushed, and chuckled with a soft sigh escaping his lips.

“Not many..to be honest..”

he whispered softly, he was embrassed should he be talking about this with you. Normally with the other men, yes but with you..it felt different.

“Well..I never had many..men either..” you looked away with your face beat red.

Arthur couldn’t believe a woman like you didn’t have many men, but that was perfect. He was nervous on he was about to ask.

“Y/N..can I try somethin’..have ya ever had first kiss.”

You shook your head, “no..never..”, he nodded and coughed, and slowly pulled you into his side.

Arthur looked down at you, with the moonlight hitting on your face making you look perfect. He let out a sigh, and leaned down kissing your lips softly but full of passion. You found yourself kissing back, you loved the taste of him, and the smell of Sweat and Cigarette smoke.

Both of you pulled away, you played with your hands nervously.

“Arthur..I I want you..ya know..” you blushed.

“Y-ya do..” he was taken back and now nervous he hadn’t been with a woman in for awhile., “You s’ure ya want to do this Y/N.”

You looked at him with a soft smile, “of course..Morgan.” He coughed, with a smirk playing on his lips.

“Then..c’mon”

he took your hand and lead you inside shady belle, and took you up to his room. You walked in first, Arthur then came in closing the door. You were nervous as hell, you felt like you could vomit that’s how nervous. You felt self conscious of your body though, you were afraid of him not wanting you.Arthur could see that you were thinking, he swallowed nervously, and pulled you into him.

“Y/N like I said..are ya s’ure”

You nodded with a soft smile, “of course..”

He nodded, and leaned down kissing you with passion, you kissed back. The kiss was getting pretty heated, soon both of you were undressing each other slowly. You were naked now, but your hands were covering your breasts and crossed your legs to hide most of your lady parts.

Arthur seen this, he placed his finger underneath your chin, and made you look to him.

“Y/N I’m serious..if you don’t want to do this..then we don’t have to.”

“Arthur Morgan..I want this..I do..just.” You sighed closing your eyes. “My body..”

Arthur then knew what you were talking about, you were nervous about your body, and how it looked. He chuckled, while he sat you down on the cot, and climbed on top of you.

“Y/N darlin’ yer body..is just fine..” he whispered huskily into your ear, as he moved some kisses down your neck.

“Really..” you moaned,

“Yes..sweetheart..c’mon open yer eyes for me.” He moves your hands away from your chest, taking in your breasts, he swallowed nervously.

Arthur kissed down your chest, and took a nipple in his mouth and started to suck on it. You sighed out in pleasure.

“Arthur..”

Arthur knew he was doing something right, he kissed even lower, down your belly and past your belly button. He patted your thighs open for him.

“C’mon darlin’ let me in.”

You nodded, as you opened your thighs for him. He smirked, and kissed on the inside of your thighs, and made it close to your slit.

You shivered in pleasure as, you felt his warm breathe hit your wet slit.

“Arthur..I need you..”

“Not yet..sweetheart..we gotta get ya ready”

He kissed your slit, and sucking on your clit making you arch your back and grip his brown hair.

“Arthur..Arthur..Yes..”

He removed himself, and kissed you softly making you taste yourself.

Arthur then removed the rest of his clothes with your help, and got back in position.

“Ya ready Y/N.”

You nodded your head, “of course” you panted. Arthur slowly inserted in you, you whined out in pain. He stilled waiting for you to get used to his size. You nodded your head, as for him to start moving, he started to thrust slowly and speed up the pace. Eventually..both of you came quickly, being your first and his first again. Arthur laid there with you by his side, he pulled you into his side.

“That was amazin’ Arthur..thank you.” You giggled, he chuckled. “Of course..Y/N.” You nodded and yawned.

“You don’t have regrets with me..Arthur.” You blushed, he shook his head with a chuckle. “Of course not..Darlin’ I have no regrets with this..with you..” Arthur kissed you softly, as both of you soon passed out.

[eng-hypnosismic]

Spoon 2Di vol.40 Interview (Komada Wataru)

Please get the spoon magazine and get your hypmic poster and support the original!! 

Yokohama Division’s mediator, Iruma Juto, as played by Komada Wataru-san. He was asked on how he delivered Juto’s unique high-tension rap style, also on how he approached this project and an outlook to the character.

How do you feel about the huge amount of responses to the project lately?

Since we started the project with a “full-fledged rap”, we ourselves also had an uneasy feeling and was not sure if people would accept it. So we were really surprised to hear that the response was bigger than we imagined. “Hypnosis Microphone” is divided into 4 divisions: for example, Yokohama Division had rappers who’re actually from Yokohama to collaborate in making the songs, etc; they even included sounds that has the characteristics of Ikebukuro. We got comments like “they made it so particular” from fans of hip-hop, which makes me really happy. Also this was from the early days of the project, but hearing things like “that sounds fun” or “I want to try that” from our industry makes me glad.

Was Komada-san familiar with hip hop before the project?

I grew up in Germany, and the hip hop culture there is more active than in Japan so I was familiar to it as a listener. Therefore in this project, I tried to create the feeling and sounds from the hip hop I’ve listened to before.

It is said that there was an audition, how did you feel at that time?

If its an idol project, idol songs are like the set piece. But, for Hypnosis Mic it was a reggae song. Moreover, rather than the hook, I was tested on doing an unique melody line. I think it’s for seeing our vibes and rhythem, which was new to me. Perhaps there’re roles that are already designated during the audition, but I was given rough illustrations of the characters, setting guidelines and also the freedom to choose. Among the ones I was interested in were Busujima Mason Riou, Arisugawa Dice and Iruma Juto. I feel an affinity to Riou, thinking how nice it is to let him use English, and as for Dice I never played a character as easygoing as him. But, the character I’m used with are always the intellectual ones wearing glasses. Although Juto is usually cold-hearted and cool, when he raps he goes on a sudden change so I thought that he is very interesting. It’s not favorable to play the same role twice (laugh), but at least I have a character that I can draw new experiences from..

After your role was decided, how did you build your character?

When I actually started playing [Juto], I still got very little of detailed information about him. Because of that, I got myself several patterns, thinking  “Maybe it’ll feel like this?”.  Those things I came up with, I use as a base, so when I rap I asked on how far should I go on making Juto’s sudden change. Since I was told that he can become a totally different person , I went all out with the rap out. And by nature, I have a powerful voice. So those who listened to the song would say “Juto seems energetic!” (laughs).. But if the tension is to that extent, it is a success to me. When I hear the song, I realized that I challenged myself too much on coming up for something different, so I couldn’t imagine the usually cool Juto.

How were the song recordings?

Whichever content the demo song was given, Hypnosis Mic will make the demo song sound good. It really makes you think, “Isn’t this good enough already?!” (laughs). Since I was influenced like that, once I check the rhythm and rhyme stanzas, I try to face the character without listening to the sound. The rap part doesn’t have a music score, so it is free to insert or take something out. But to get compliments from fans of hip hop,  it is important to have a lot of practice.  Therefore, I listened to a lot of rap patterns that includes freestyle, and made certain rules within myself for the sake of that rap feeling. I think other cast are doing this as well, so everyone gets better every recording, and has a stronger grasp of what to do.

In the Niconama Rap Battle, you showed off your freestyle, didn’t you?

That’s right! That was pretty harsh (laughs). “Will we be given a script?” was what I thought, but we were really told to freestyle. So in order to deal with the responses during the live performance, we were sweating on our foreheads in the dressing room, desperately thinking of lyrics.

But you guys seemed to do it without any difficulty, you guys really are amazing.

We face difficulty all the time! (laughs). But, to take a rhythm and put words to it , it seemed so far away since the first time so it’s fun to accept the challenge. “Thanks, Hypmic!”, kind of feeling (laughs).

So, what do you feel about Yokohama Division’s team, MAD TRIGGER CREW?

Fierce, they give a strong impression of aggressiveness. As of now, they don’t only chop very fast rhymes but their choices of words are the utmost violent, and the characters are placed in the most rough environment. Maybe physically, they’re the strongest team. Since they live in that kind of unforgiving environment, it seems like that is where their sharp piercing words and sounds came from. Their occupation is all over the place too….. I don’t even know if I should call it their occupation as well. (laughs).  

In the songs and drama, I feel that they get along unexpectedly well.

Taking good care of one another is part of the hip hop culture. They are still a team, even if they’re a bunch of pricks. Even though they’re really rude towards each other, when Samatoki somehow got admonished by Riou, Juto would go and stop them, which is unexpected for him to show understanding towards Samatoki. That kind of relationship with each other is what makes a beautiful balance to them. They have no foundation like “I like this guy” or “I trust him” to their relationship, so I thought it would be a challenge for them to battle as a team. Therefore, I got a feeling that Yokohama Division are pretty good guys, aren’t they? (laughs).

What kind of impression do you have on Samatoki and Riou?

Samatoki is the member of the legendary team that established an era, The Dirty Dawg. Due to that fact, it gave him great amount of pride. And of course, this brings a lot of nuisance to Juto and the rest of the police force  (laughs), Samatoki’s a very stubborn man. I feel like he is a leader who will open up if I tag along with him. Juto and Riou do not follow Samatoki, but rather, stand with him as equals, so all 3 of them kept a perfect balance among each other. They might fall if one of them is missing, but if the three of them are together, they seem to be alert and stand for their own in whatever they do, which just gives a feeling of relief.  Also, Riou’s existence just felt like he’s the buffer , doesn’t he? His dishes are brutal, but it has become a key to calm the atmosphere down in a moment. (Bitter smile)

Samatoki and Juto seem to know each other from a long time ago.

Indeed. “A Yakuza whom I befriended” (laughs). I need more details on that!! Now in Chuuoku, their past wasn’t revealed as much. But I’m sure there’s been a cause and effect in the past, that’s how they are able to be in a team now. For that reason, it makes me feel like both of them are drawn to each other, or dependent on one another . They’re foils to each other,  and I find that interesting.

You’re also interested in Juto’s past, aren’t you?

This is just my imagination but, maybe, he did have an upright sense of justice when he was younger. However, the world was heavily infested by evil. With his position only as a policeman, he realized that it is impossible for him to deal with everything so he felt that despair.

Not only he became rotten, by taking in evil he could ruin things from the inside, and that seems like a good idea. Although it’s quite a dangerous thought, it does make sense in a way. I mean, he could also handle a dangerous dog like Samatoki. In that sense, he seems to be good at winning people over and is capable of adapting to his surroundings. I really want to know how his past was like!

In the drama part, Juto gave advice to Jiro and Saburo on how they’re being too dependent on their eldest brother, didn’t he?

Juto is so kind~ (to the kids) !  That why you can call him a guardian (laughs). However, it is because Ikebukuro is their opponent, that’s why you can see this side of Juto. I think he’ll be different with other teams. He’s extremely uninterested to those who can’t do anything or are talentless. It doesn’t take much time for him to crush those people down, by just saying “try to face yourself once again”. While Juto could sense the threat from the future growth of the  Ikebukuro boys, he look forward to that boiling blood of theirs. That is why, Ikebukuro team interests Juto a lot. He definitely won’t admit that, but it’s good that he’s aware of that.

Next, we are going to touch about the songs.First, please show us some key points of your solo song, “Bayside Smoking Blues”.

Basically, it’s as if you’re standing alone, smoking cigarette while watching the scenery of Minato Mirai and its surroundings. Other than that, I was told to do it as how I like. Samatoki and Riou’s solo song has other characters joining in, but for Juto’s song, it’s literally a solo song. There’s no one there to help him sing (laugh). That’s why he’s been saying “I’m a lonely only RABBIT” on every chorus, expressing that he’s a lonely only RABBIT. The hardest part of the song is obviously the rap. At the introduction part, in order to express what kind of person and what kind of position Juto has in Yokohama, I checked and try to say the very Juto-esque words like “I'll arrest you” or “Pig Pen [jail cell]” so that it remains in people’s ears. There’s no way I’d scream such foul word like “mother xxxx”, though (laughs) . Other than that, Juto being the number one brain but a bit nihilistic is beautiful. Since that’s the case, I tried to rap in a calm and charming manner so I won’t change that image.

Then how about Buster Bros!!! And MAD TRIGGER CREW’s WAR WAR WAR song?

This song has the so-called freestyle battle feels. It feels more like a stage battle rather than a song. It has the baton-passing format, so I thought that it was fun with all the clear call and responses. I responded to Jiro (Yamada) but, the recording is different. When Jiro speaks to Juto, his words are littered with sharp glares and phrases meant to knock him off his feet, that’s what I think. However, whatever their enemy says, Yokohama gathers and releases the strength to utterly annihilate them. The tension rises, to the point a policeman said “We’re cold-blooded killers” (laughs). Maybe I’m thinking about it too much, but that phrase is certainly a killer word, it’s important to me.

After listening to the complete product, how do you feel about Jiro’s rap?

Jiro is much stronger than I imagined. If someone were to record half-heartedly, it is obvious that the power balance would collapse, so everyone definitely did their best in this.

There must be a battle among the casts, aren’t there?

We do battle! Haru-kun (who plays Jiro) listens to the complete songs, even now, “that comeback is strong!” he says in regret  (laughs). “You’re strong too!” was what I thought, but it’s great to see everyone’s doing their best.

So what do you think about Yokohama Division’s song, “Yokohama Walker?”

To me, I imagine the 3 Yokohama members riding an open car (convertible), running through the sea breeze while smoking cigarette at the bayside. Juto drives, Samatoki sits at the passenger’s seat raising his legs and Riou sits diagonally in the back seat because he does not fit (laughs). They won’t talk much, driving towards any desired destination as they please. It’s as if they’re taking a short break after the whole deal in the screwed up world of theirs. The song doesn’t make me feel anything as much, but it sure do has a lot of brutal words. “The path home dirtied by blood” or Juto’s “I’ll handcuff and arrest him to kill some time” is definitely not something a policeman should say (laughs). But I don’t feel the least bit uncomfortable saying it, since it’s important for the establishment of this character. The gaps between the sound and lyrics has a meaning that’ll make the song a killer, and I like that.

Which character are you interested in Shibuya Division and Shinjuku Division?

I enjoy listening to Shibuya Division Arisugawa Dice’s song, it makes me want to sing along, so I got interested. As for Shinjuku Division, they have this peculiar vibe that is eerie, but fun. (Jinguji) Jakurai-sensei is really tall!! Our Riou is no match (laughs). I look forward on how will the song be when those two team battles. I really can’t wait to see them battle.

So other than your own song, do you like any other songs?

My most favorite song would be <Hypnosis Mic -Division Battle Anthem->. All 12 people sing in one song, singing all at once and also solo. Moreover they made their own rhythm and it was tough. The song gave the most rap feeling. I really like the feeling it gave, as if beating people one after another. Of course, this song has a demo version and I’ve already sang it before. The demo song was also sung in character, so it really is like the sample (laughs). So, I think we shouldn’t let it get brushed off.  Also, I like Ichiro’s song, “Ore ga Ichiro,” because it’s catchy, isn’t it?

<Hypnosis Mic Division Battle Anthem>’s MV also shows all of you rap, that must’ve been a big deal wasn’t it?

You can watch the MV’s fullsize for free! It's the ultimate giveaway!. The MV’s appearance is so stylish, it gave that mood of “Maybe I’ll try to do rap!” and I’m really happy for that. Of course showing the character is important, but if that’s the only thing that is showcased, the rate of being shaken off by hip hop will fall. On top of the rap, I add in characterization so that the character can be received well. “Hypnosis mic” has become the key to wow factor contents.

It seems like all the casts are having fun, too. All of you who collaborated with “Hypnosis Mic” made a Champagne Tower at a karaoke store.

Yeah we did ! Actually what happened after that is a private matter, but out came the Champagne Tower (laughs) ! First we drank to <Battle Anthem>, and the tension rises. Lastly, we drank to Champagne Gold and………… it was bubbling (laughs) 。 There’s a lot of things you can do only within “Hypnosis Mic”, so I look forward to work with everyone.

There is a second live on 26th of August, isn’t there?

Yes, you’re right. But I’m so scared on how it is going to be like. They’re definitely going to include freestyle battles! Definitely! It’s horrifying!

In the Territory Battle with Ikebukuro Division, Yokohama Division is currently leading.

But the results are very close to each other, so I can’t figure out the outcome. This isn’t about “either way, everyone will be in peace”, but the project will continue on delivering contents only to that outcome, which I think is very unique. The songs and story will definitely be designed by their victory or loss, so I feel like the listeners are truly involved in this. To have a wave of something like “You guys  gotta win!” echoing to us motivates us to not lose. That’s why Ikebukuro should be crushed…………. (laughs).

(laughs) . Finally, any messages to the fans who supported you?

As time goes by, all the songs, story and goods will be brushed up, and it’ll expand rapidly. So in order to not get left behind by the momentum, do fight along with your favorite teams, favorite songs and favorite characters. And, by all means, please listen to rap other than “Hypnosis Mic”, too. I haven’t been informed much, but it seems like there’s going to be secret plan and hidden tricks so I want to support as much as I can. And please! Make MAD TRIGGER CREW be the winner! Cast your last vote and reach out to the summit together (laughs)!

[thesantsah]

Before launching a new batch of cigarettes, the manufacturer must make sure that they do not kill too quickly ... They test cigarettes on those who have no legal rights and cannot stand up for themselves - on animals. Dogs, cats, primates, rabbits and rodents are forced to inhale smoke through tubes inserted into their throats, toxic substances are forcibly rubbed into the eyes and skin ... As a rule, this leads to the painful death of the animal ... #wedontdeservethisplanet #wedontdeservethisplanet🌍 #saveanimals #saveearth #harahaitohbharahai https://www.instagram.com/p/CJ2Y3SFsYeY/?igshid=4gmnkbz5mjyq

[glitchgoat]

a personal project i’ve been working on for the past couple days as a break from my Big Ongoing Thing-- a (super hypothetical) dating sim that’s literally just my excuse to do a bunch of weeby shit haha ♥

far left is insert-name-here protagonist and the other seven are the possible dating options

names + descriptions under the jump tell me which boy u’d go for

0. Protagonist [Default name: Riku] - Age 19 Image colour: Black Image animal: Snow leopard A young man and aspiring idol singer who was scouted by an as-of-yet unnamed agency. Despite sometimes seeming oblivious, he's generally very perceptive and empathetic, with a natural aura of earnestness that makes people trust him.

1. Kouji - Age 19 Image colour: Red Image animal: German shepherd A very flirty, 'princely' type young man who affectionately teases Riku regularly. Though he hasn't made his debut yet, he's just now breaking into the entertainment industry as a model and actor. He wants to be a triple threat, but he can't sing at all, but he's far too proud to let this stop him. Nobody has the heart to tell him that by insisting on it, he's sabotaging his own chances of making it. Because of his lack of steady work, he does a lot of odd jobs for old ladies and the like, and accepts food as payment.

2. Naoki - Age 18 Image colour: Orange Image animal: Rabbit A personified ray of sunshine. He wants to be an idol more than anything in the world. While he's a great singer and dancer, he seriously lacks confidence on-stage, and so his lack of stage presence has delayed his chances of debuting. He works super hard, sometimes to the point of making himself sick, and often fails to consider himself and his own comfort for the sake of others. A mega-fan of super popular idol trio CMY and their ‘brother’ group RBY.

3. Isamu - Age 23 Image colour: Green Image animal: Lion A playful and laid-back young man who’s been Riku’s closest friend for years. Even though people think he's cool and collected, he's secretly (or not so secretly) a big fucking dork who's really good at bluffing his way through things. He encouraged Riku to follow his idol dreams, and would wrestle a bear for him, but he has a not-that-well-hidden jealous streak that comes into play anytime he's not romanced. (He always gets over it.)

4. Eiji - Age 20 Image colour: Blue Image animal: Bear A young writer writing a Very Serious Exposé on idols for his Very Serious Idol Blog, which leads to him snooping around the agency. Takes himself way too seriously and is the only one who doesn't realize it. Though he starts off frustratingly serious, he ends up coaching Riku and eventually becomes his #1 fan, even though he never stops taking himself too seriously (glowsticks and penlights with a total stone face). Is actually totally the mom friend underneath the cool exterior.

5. Saburo - Age 23 Image colour: Purple Image animal: Horse A barista at the Staba nearest the agency's office building, and gets voluntold by his manager to run delivery to the office (even though they don't ordinarily deliver). Has a slightly shady past as a teenage delinquent, which made him a fair number of enemies. When the agency scouted him, he dodged the question like a goddamn ninja. He works really hard to distance himself from his past life nowadays, but he gets pretty defensive about it. He feeds all the stray cats that live near his apartment.

6. Yuuta - Age 25 Image colour: Hot pink Image animal: Fox A bit of a conman with morals that might be described as 'shaky'; if you need a lock picked or some electronics that fell off the back of a truck, he's your guy. He has a bad habit of kind of sort of dragging Riku (and everyone else around him) into a series of wacky petty crime misadventures, but he'd kick a biker in the teeth before he let anyone that isn't him get hurt on his watch. Even though he always has a cigarette in his mouth, nobody seems to ever recall seeing him smoking it.

7. Ryouma - Age 18 Image colour: White Image animal: Stag The son of the agency's president, Ryouma is the most heavily-promoted (and most successful) idol currently under contract. His mother was an idol as well-- and is significantly younger than her husband. He's been raised in the environment, and is used to being attended to and having most of his major life decisions made for him by his handlers (which has led to the joke that he has no goddamn idea how to dress himself if he doesn't have a stylist over his shoulder). His cheerful attitude seems to be hiding something.

[aprilbravz-blog]

The Mechanics of a Pipe

The mechanics, or engineering, of an excellent pipe is all about what is not there. The tobacco chamber, draft hole, smoke channel, and slot identify the smoking qualities of a pipe. Collectively, these drillings, more so than shape, size, and part products are the factors that yield a well smoking pipe. Simply as in a well-tuned high-performance engine, good airflow is an important factor for a pipe to smoke well. Unrestricted airflow, of ideal volume from bowl to a button, makes sure the very best conditions for modulation of the burn. This, in turn, allows a simple speed or regulation of puffing without unnecessary concentration and effort needed by the cigarette smoker. Ideal airflow is achieved when the smoke channel keeps a consistent" Goldilocks" size-- not too little and not too big. Check out more advice about rabbit tobacco

This implies that as the height of the smoke channel needs to decrease to accommodate the mouthpiece tapering down to the button, the smoke channel needs to increase in width, slowly transitioning from a round cross-section to the flattened oval opening of the slot. Think of a long, thin cone of paper that you flatten gradually from the point to the base. The perfect is to have the location of the opening along the whole length of the smoke channel constant.

Factory brand names and the majority of high volume pipe makers normally can not put in the time to focus on this fine, however crucial element. The better craftsmen pipe makers consider this attention to airflow requisite. That is not to say you can not find a factory or high volume maker's pipe that smokes well, only that a highly competent artisan's work is most likely to yield a great smoke.

" Is that wood?"

This is frequently the first concern I am asked when I reveal my work to a non-- pipe smoker. Though it may strike some as an odd one, this concern usually comes from somebody not familiar with state-of-the-art artisan pipelines. Many under the age of thirty, have never come across a proper smoking pipe" in the wild ". They are truly an endangered species. As the pipe stummel or body of the pipe can be made from various products, I will just briefly discuss those that have been used most often.

As discussed above, by far the majority of pipes are made from briar. The 2nd most frequently used product is meerschaum. Finding one with outstanding airflow and a thin comfortable stem can require some effort as until just recently most meerschaums were produced as souvenirs for the tourist trade around Asia Minor.

Corn cob pipes are rather popular and have a long history in the U.S. Also just called "cobs", they are dried corn cobs crafted into pipe bowls and inserted with a wood shank attached with normally a plastic or acrylic stem. Many cobs are industrial. Typically used by tobacco blenders to evaluate new blends, they do not impact tobacco taste and are affordable adequate to be tossed when they begin to burn out.

There are lots of options to briar and meerschaum such as fruitwoods, bog oak, clay, ceramic and metal. Currently bog oak and strawberry wood are popular amongst some artisan pipe makers. Both have fascinating grain patterns that can be highlighted further with sandblasting. Unlike briar, a lot of fruitwoods, bog oak, and strawberry wood will not accept color stain well, nor do they achieve that lovely patina of a well-smoked briar.

Pipe Shapes

There are more shapes and variations on shapes that one might list and talented craftsmen create more every day. On the accompanying shape charts, you can see a lot of the most typical and classic styles.

Normally, pipes fall under 2 broad categories that are defined by the course of the smoke channel. These are easy straight and curved. From there, one can leap off into an ever-expanding realm of splendid and creative shapes. Regarding the smoking attributes of straight versus curved pipes, there is an ongoing debate. My experience and the modest trend of viewpoint appears to suggest that straight pipes tend to offer somewhat much better smoke. I must mention that this might be since straight pipes are less most likely to gather moisture in the base of the shank at the draft hole.

Over the centuries numerous styles of pipe shape have appeared and faded. in today's pipe world they are typically thought of in regards to traditional English shapes and Danish, or often freehand shapes.

Traditional English shapes include the shapes that we are most familiar with and primarily originated in France and England. The common billiard shape and it's straight and bent shank variations, the long-stemmed Churchwarden just recently re-popularized by the Lord of the Rings movies and the venerable cutty shapes came down from the clay tavern pipes of the 1600s are all in this group.

The classic English shapes held sway for numerous a century up until about the early 1950s when in Denmark pipe makers started to experiment with alternative shapes to inject more specific artistic expression into the creation of a new and less regimented style of shapes. A number of these early productions, shaped by hand tended to include the natural shape of the briar burl and direction of the grain.

This was a big move on towards the most generally accepted method to great pipe making; working with the natural attributes of the wood to enable the pipe to expose itself much as sculptors mention revealing the figure in a block of marble.

The majority of pipe historians point to Sixten Ivarsson as the leader of the Danish motion and style and his shapes form the core of what many refer to as "traditional" Danish shapes. Paradoxically, Sixten was born Swedish and moved to Copenhagen where he started this Danish transformation.

Today the traditional English shapes still control the world's production of pipes, through craftsmen pipe makers on every continent incorporate Sixten's influences and continue to create increasingly more interesting and gorgeous shapes with seemingly limitless variations in color, surface treatments and distinct combinations of products.

[winterbuckytho]

Thy Body In Remembreance Of You pt.1  Jim

The blue girl appeared for the first time during the first snow. Jim had been lost in distracting distorted thoughts whilst walking to the store for a pack of smokes. With which he had done the opposite of what he thought he'd do: double down on them, smoking close to two packs a day. He had actualy began somiking so much he had given himself nicotine poisoning not once but a few times. It was the ability to duck out that drew him. He had been so unnerved as of late that taking five mins out of what he was doing to smoke a butt was the only reason he was still hanging on. People said they were a crutch, well he was using them like a walker barely able to move to the next task in his day till he lit up again. A little part of him kept saying 0 'It's not like your doing any good at anything but smoking.'

He crossed the street hardly seeing what was in front of him when the flakes started coming down. Startled from berating himself & having an internal conversation with the part of his mind who was his perfectionist subpersonality while he hardly knew that was what he was doing, he looked up toward the corner the store was on only to immediately notice a child in a pale blue jacket further down the street. And for no reason at all, felt something was terribly wrong. A little girl dressed apropriately for the weather had no right felling so...out of place.

There was no one else around and even at a distance his sight was good enough to tell him the child was not a local. Being a small town it was quite easy to remerber most of the people in it and being enhanced, his already keen eyes had vision just this side of the line between perfect & unnaturally good, his memory outside of his own life was photogenic and highly accurate when it came to faces (which is why he couldn't get Steve or Shane out of his head). Living here for 6 years, Father Jim was sure he knew the young children from the immediate area. Hell, had baptized a bunch of them. He felt all of a sudden much colder as if the temp had dropped with the wind kicking up.

What lay before him made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. At 11:40 on a Tuesday morning every other child was at school or home sick, not standing in the middle of the sidewalk apparently staring into nothing. It was wrong to him that a child this young be unsupervised. She didn't even seem to be standing in front of the house on that part of the street. As he thought over what he should do, the snow thickened and the child remain rooted to the spot. His eye took in details of the little girl as his mind tried to place her somewhere in town that made sense. She had a pair of cream colored knitted mittens on her hands and a pair of toffee colored slacks on. Her hair was so pale blonde it bordered on being white. It was plaited in the front pulling her bangs up from her face and where the braid ended over her left temple it had been secured with a long ribbon which matched her coat. It rippled and floucned on the wind. On that same side of her forehead were two dark dots as if someone had drawn two evenly spaced circles in magic marker on her face above her pale brows and stone wash blue eyes.

Perhaps she was visiting from somewhere else, winter vacation hadn't begun here but she didn't appear to be school aged just yet. Maybe she was lost, having wandered out of the yard of the home of whatever family she may be visiting with. Jim didn't like all the uncertainty her presence had established in the few minutes he had known she existed. Without knowing he was going to do it he walked past the corner market and toward the child. As he did so it seemed the snow was thickening further or the wind was playing with it in a manner that was making it harder to see. It felt as if the sky itself was darkening on that one street. As he neared her the blue of her coat & ribbon dimmed and faded. He widened his stride but now it seemed she was drifting back from him in an odd manner that did not corespond with the movement of a person walking backward and being further obscured by the snow. Her eyes only seemed traceble and even though she was hard to make out, she appeared to be shedding a pale cool glow. As she disapeared from veiw her ribbon began to loosen and soon it slipped from her hair. It rode on the wind and as Jim reached out his frost covered left hand to her, it's cold silk slipped right onto it.

He looked up to see if he could see the child ahead of him on the sidewalk. He saw nothing but the ground snow and houses. As he stared a squirrle darted out from a bush to his right scaring him half to death, he was on the verge of shouting when he saw the small animal. The squirrel stood on the sidewalk seeming to wait for Jim to say something so he did.

"Who...was that?"

Jim looked down at his open hand and was further disurbed to see the ribbon had disappeared as well.

When Jim came back to himself he turned around and headed back down street. He remembered where he had been going and why. He returned to the corner and went into the store. He purchased the cigarettes and when he went to leave a bird small and round landed on a tree branch of a bush across the street from him directly at eye level from him. As he walked toward it the bird took flight and flew directly at him landing on his shoulder as he stood in the crosswalk having walked halfway across the street. He stood still and wiggled his shoulders trying to get the bird to fly it away again but it seem to want a ride on his shoulder across the street. When he reached the curb it did not move.

"Okay then little friend" he said. the bird made a peep in response it seemed and he continued walking and at the next corner a gray and white rabbit came out from the side of the house there and began hopping along in front of him. Perplexed he watched as the bunny seemed to be leading him toward his house and indeed when he came close to it, the bunny hopped across his lawn and up to his door. Confused by the animal's behavior, Jim took out his keys and when he did so the bird flew away finally.

To the bunny Father Jim said "Thanks, I'll take it from here." and amazingly the bunny turned its back hopped a few steps then looked back over it's shoulder. It remained that way until he inserted his key into the lock and opened the door. Seeming satified, it began hopping off into the dry grey bushes. Once inside Jim returned his jacket to the closet and went to the kitchen to set up for cocoa.

Jim was quite sure Christopher Barry, the day clerk at the hardware store, was selling marijuana. He wondered if he shouldn't pick some up because maybe being doped up would make him feel less like he's lost touch with reality.

[jarenihtbony-stories]

The Skylight Room

First Mrs. Parker would show you the double parlours. You would not dare to interrupt her description of their advantages and of the merits of the gentleman who had occupied them for eight years. Then you would manage to stammer forth the confession that you were neither a doctor nor a dentist. Mrs. Parker's manner of receiving the admission was such that you could never afterward entertain the same feeling toward your parents, who had neglected to train you up in one of the professions that fitted Mrs. Parker's parlours.

Next you ascended one flight of stairs and looked at the second- floor-back at $8. Convinced by her second-floor manner that it was worth the $12 that Mr. Toosenberry always paid for it until he left to take charge of his brother's orange plantation in Florida near Palm Beach, where Mrs. McIntyre always spent the winters that had the double front room with private bath, you managed to babble that you wanted something still cheaper.

If you survived Mrs. Parker's scorn, you were taken to look at Mr. Skidder's large hall room on the third floor. Mr. Skidder's room was not vacant. He wrote plays and smoked cigarettes in it all day long. But every room-hunter was made to visit his room to admire the lambrequins. After each visit, Mr. Skidder, from the fright caused by possible eviction, would pay something on his rent.

Then--oh, then--if you still stood on one foot, with your hot hand clutching the three moist dollars in your pocket, and hoarsely proclaimed your hideous and culpable poverty, nevermore would Mrs. Parker be cicerone of yours. She would honk loudly the word "Clara" she would show you her back, and march downstairs. Then Clara, the coloured maid, would escort you up the carpeted ladder that served for the fourth flight, and show you the Skylight Room. It occupied 7x8 feet of floor space at the middle of the hall. On each side of it was a dark lumber closet or storeroom.

In it was an iron cot, a washstand and a chair. A shelf was the dresser. Its four bare walls seemed to close in upon you like the sides of a coffin. Your hand crept to your throat, you gasped, you looked up as from a well--and breathed once more. Through the glass of the little skylight you saw a square of blue infinity.

"Two dollars, suh," Clara would say in her half-contemptuous, half- Tuskegeenial tones.

One day Miss Leeson came hunting for a room. She carried a typewriter made to be lugged around by a much larger lady. She was a very little girl, with eyes and hair that had kept on growing after she had stopped and that always looked as if they were saying: "Goodness me ! Why didn't you keep up with us?"

Mrs. Parker showed her the double parlours. "In this closet," she said, "one could keep a skeleton or anaesthetic or coal "

"But I am neither a doctor nor a dentist," said Miss Leeson, with a shiver.

Mrs. Parker gave her the incredulous, pitying, sneering, icy stare that she kept for those who failed to qualify as doctors or dentists, and led the way to the second floor back.

"Eight dollars?" said Miss Leeson. "Dear me! I'm not Hetty if I do look green. I'm just a poor little working girl. Show me something higher and lower."

Mr. Skidder jumped and strewed the floor with cigarette stubs at the rap on his door.

"Excuse me, Mr. Skidder," said Mrs. Parker, with her demon's smile at his pale looks. "I didn't know you were in. I asked the lady to have a look at your lambrequins."

"They're too lovely for anything," said Miss Leeson, smiling in exactly the way the angels do.

After they had gone Mr. Skidder got very busy erasing the tall, black-haired heroine from his latest (unproduced) play and inserting a small, roguish one with heavy, bright hair and vivacious features.

"Anna Held'll jump at it," said Mr. Skidder to himself, putting his feet up against the lambrequins and disappearing in a cloud of smoke like an aerial cuttlefish.

Presently the tocsin call of "Clara!" sounded to the world the state of Miss Leeson's purse. A dark goblin seized her, mounted a Stygian stairway, thrust her into a vault with a glimmer of light in its top and muttered the menacing and cabalistic words "Two dollars!"

"I'll take it!" sighed Miss Leeson, sinking down upon the squeaky iron bed.

Every day Miss Leeson went out to work. At night she brought home papers with handwriting on them and made copies with her typewriter. Sometimes she had no work at night, and then she would sit on the steps of the high stoop with the other roomers. Miss Leeson was not intended for a sky-light room when the plans were drawn for her creation. She was gay-hearted and full of tender, whimsical fancies. Once she let Mr. Skidder read to her three acts of his great (unpublished) comedy, "It's No Kid; or, The Heir of the Subway."

There was rejoicing among the gentlemen roomers whenever Miss Leeson had time to sit on the steps for an hour or two. But Miss Longnecker, the tall blonde who taught in a public school and said, "Well, really!" to everything you said, sat on the top step and sniffed. And Miss Dorn, who shot at the moving ducks at Coney every Sunday and worked in a department store, sat on the bottom step and sniffed. Miss Leeson sat on the middle step and the men would quickly group around her.

Especially Mr. Skidder, who had cast her in his mind for the star part in a private, romantic (unspoken) drama in real life. And especially Mr. Hoover, who was forty-five, fat, flush and foolish. And especially very young Mr. Evans, who set up a hollow cough to induce her to ask him to leave off cigarettes. The men voted her "the funniest and jolliest ever," but the sniffs on the top step and the lower step were implacable.

* * * * * *

I pray you let the drama halt while Chorus stalks to the footlights and drops an epicedian tear upon the fatness of Mr. Hoover. Tune the pipes to the tragedy of tallow, the bane of bulk, the calamity of corpulence. Tried out, Falstaff might have rendered more romance to the ton than would have Romeo's rickety ribs to the ounce. A lover may sigh, but he must not puff. To the train of Momus are the fat men remanded. In vain beats the faithfullest heart above a 52-inch belt. Avaunt, Hoover! Hoover, forty-five, flush and foolish, might carry off Helen herself; Hoover, forty-five, flush, foolish and fat is meat for perdition. There was never a chance for you, Hoover.

As Mrs. Parker's roomers sat thus one summer's evening, Miss Leeson looked up into the firmament and cried with her little gay laugh:

"Why, there's Billy Jackson! I can see him from down here, too."

All looked up--some at the windows of skyscrapers, some casting about for an airship, Jackson-guided.

"It's that star," explained Miss Leeson, pointing with a tiny finger. "Not the big one that twinkles--the steady blue one near it. I can see it every night through my skylight. I named it Billy Jackson."

"Well, really!" said Miss Longnecker. "I didn't know you were an astronomer, Miss Leeson."

"Oh, yes," said the small star gazer, "I know as much as any of them about the style of sleeves they're going to wear next fall in Mars."

"Well, really!" said Miss Longnecker. "The star you refer to is Gamma, of the constellation Cassiopeia. It is nearly of the second magnitude, and its meridian passage is--"

"Oh," said the very young Mr. Evans, "I think Billy Jackson is a much better name for it."

"Same here," said Mr. Hoover, loudly breathing defiance to Miss Longnecker. "I think Miss Leeson has just as much right to name stars as any of those old astrologers had."

"Well, really!" said Miss Longnecker.

"I wonder whether it's a shooting star," remarked Miss Dorn. "I hit nine ducks and a rabbit out of ten in the gallery at Coney Sunday."

"He doesn't show up very well from down here," said Miss Leeson. "You ought to see him from my room. You know you can see stars even in the daytime from the bottom of a well. At night my room is like the shaft of a coal mine, and it makes Billy Jackson look like the big diamond pin that Night fastens her kimono with."

There came a time after that when Miss Leeson brought no formidable papers home to copy. And when she went out in the morning, instead of working, she went from office to office and let her heart melt away in the drip of cold refusals transmitted through insolent office boys. This went on.

There came an evening when she wearily climbed Mrs. Parker's stoop at the hour when she always returned from her dinner at the restaurant. But she had had no dinner.

As she stepped into the hall Mr. Hoover met her and seized his chance. He asked her to marry him, and his fatness hovered above her like an avalanche. She dodged, and caught the balustrade. He tried for her hand, and she raised it and smote him weakly in the face. Step by step she went up, dragging herself by the railing. She passed Mr. Skidder's door as he was red-inking a stage direction for Myrtle Delorme (Miss Leeson) in his (unaccepted) comedy, to "pirouette across stage from L to the side of the Count." Up the carpeted ladder she crawled at last and opened the door of the skylight room.

She was too weak to light the lamp or to undress. She fell upon the iron cot, her fragile body scarcely hollowing the worn springs. And in that Erebus of the skylight room, she slowly raised her heavy eyelids, and smiled.

For Billy Jackson was shining down on her, calm and bright and constant through the skylight. There was no world about her. She was sunk in a pit of blackness, with but that small square of pallid light framing the star that she had so whimsically and oh, so ineffectually named. Miss Longnecker must be right; it was Gamma, of the constellation Cassiopeia, and not Billy Jackson. And yet she could not let it be Gamma.

As she lay on her back she tried twice to raise her arm. The third time she got two thin fingers to her lips and blew a kiss out of the black pit to Billy Jackson. Her arm fell back limply.

"Good-bye, Billy," she murmured faintly. "You're millions of miles away and you won't even twinkle once. But you kept where I could see you most of the time up there when there wasn't anything else but darkness to look at, didn't you? . . . Millions of miles. . . . Good-bye, Billy Jackson."

Clara, the coloured maid, found the door locked at 10 the next day, and they forced it open. Vinegar, and the slapping of wrists and burnt feathers proving of no avail, some one ran to 'phone for an ambulance.

In due time it backed up to the door with much gong-clanging, and the capable young medico, in his white linen coat, ready, active, confident, with his smooth face half debonair, half grim, danced up the steps.

"Ambulance call to 49," he said briefly. "What's the trouble?"

"Oh, yes, doctor," sniffed Mrs. Parker, as though her trouble that there should be trouble in the house was the greater. "I can't think what can be the matter with her. Nothing we could do would bring her to. It's a young woman, a Miss Elsie--yes, a Miss Elsie Leeson. Never before in my house--"

"What room?" cried the doctor in a terrible voice, to which Mrs. Parker was a stranger.

"The skylight room. It--

Evidently the ambulance doctor was familiar with the location of skylight rooms. He was gone up the stairs, four at a time. Mrs. Parker followed slowly, as her dignity demanded.

On the first landing she met him coming back bearing the astronomer in his arms. He stopped and let loose the practised scalpel of his tongue, not loudly. Gradually Mrs. Parker crumpled as a stiff garment that slips down from a nail. Ever afterward there remained crumples in her mind and body. Sometimes her curious roomers would ask her what the doctor said to her.

"Let that be," she would answer. "If I can get forgiveness for having heard it I will be satisfied."

The ambulance physician strode with his burden through the pack of hounds that follow the curiosity chase, and even they fell back along the sidewalk abashed, for his face was that of one who bears his own dead.

They noticed that he did not lay down upon the bed prepared for it in the ambulance the form that he carried, and all that he said was: "Drive like h**l, Wilson," to the driver.

That is all. Is it a story? In the next morning's paper I saw a little news item, and the last sentence of it may help you (as it helped me) to weld the incidents together.

It recounted the reception into Bellevue Hospital of a young woman who had been removed from No. 49 East -- street, suffering from debility induced by starvation. It concluded with these words:

"Dr. William Jackson, the ambulance physician who attended the case, says the patient will recover."