#an improved version if you'd like

[unstable-samurai]

Instructions

Irene x Male Reader

word count: 3.2K

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You drive up to Irene's mansion, where every inch of the lawn looks meticulously manicured, and the fountain at the entrance shoots water in a pattern that can only be described as "obscenely expensive." You still can't believe you were hired to train a woman who doesn't seem to need a single day in the gym, but money is money, right?

You step out of the car and walk to the front door, a massive wooden structure that probably weighs more than your car. Before you have the chance to knock, the door opens as if the house has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Irene appears, and the first thing you think is that the photos simply don't do her justice.

She's like an upgraded version of a classic diva, someone with a beauty that would be admired in any era of humanity, now enhanced by all the improvements time could offer. Black hair cascading in soft waves, feline eyes that devour you in a fraction of a second, and a posture that makes you wonder if you're standing before a queen or a trap disguised as a woman.

"Oh, I was excited to finally meet my personal trainer," she says.

"Ms. Irene," you reply, offering your hand in a gesture that feels outdated in her presence. Her hand is soft and firm, and the grip is just enough to make you feel that you are, without a doubt, in foreign territory.

"Come on, I'll show you the house," she says, turning quickly without waiting for a response. You follow her, walking through a house that is a maze of marble, stainless steel, and glass. Every piece of art on the walls screams in a flamboyant way, "I have more money than you can imagine," and the faint scent of fresh flowers lingers in the air, as if even the aroma of the house was custom-made.

"This here is the living room," she says, passing through a room larger than your entire apartment, and you pretend not to be impressed. "And over there is the kitchen. You might need something to drink after the workouts. Or during, if I decide to tire you out too much."

She smiles again, and this time you can’t help but smile back, with that kind of irony that only arises when you know you're in trouble.

"This is the bedroom," she says, stopping in front of a closed door. You feel the tension rise a bit, and she notices it. "Not that you’ll need it, but I thought you'd like to know where it is." She opens the door and reveals a room that looks like it came straight out of a decor magazine: an immense bed, silk sheets, and a view of the garden that seems hand-painted.

"Nice place," you say, more out of politeness than anything else.

"Thank you. Now, the gym," she says, as if this was the true purpose of the entire visit. She leads you to a room where all the exercise machines seem to shine with newness. "I need to stay in shape, after all," she says, leaning casually on a treadmill, her posture suggesting that the idea of sweat is something completely alien.

"Shall we begin, then?" you ask, already pulling out the water bottle from your bag, trying to appear professional.

You decide to start the session with the basics, which seems like the best approach when dealing with someone whose idea of physical effort probably consists of reaching for the remote control.

"So, Irene, have you trained before?" you ask, but in your mind, she doesn’t exactly look like the type who frequents a gym.

She smiles, that smile you're already beginning to associate with trouble. "Only if you count marathon shopping trips and half-hour Pilates sessions with my instructor who told me to breathe deeply and think of happy places. Does that count?"

You smile back. "Well, let's start with something simple. A warm-up. Just to prepare the muscles."

"Oh, I love a good warm-up," she replies.

You guide her through some basic stretches, and of course, she starts asking for help. "Can you show me how to do this one? I've always had trouble with it," she says while trying to touch her toes.

You approach, placing your hands on her waist to guide her, trying to ignore the fact that she’s perfumed for a workout. "Like this, push a little further forward... That’s it."

She lets out a soft sigh, almost inaudible, but you notice. "I don't think I've ever had someone help me like this," she says, making you realize that "help" has multiple connotations for her.

"Practice makes perfect," you respond, trying to stay focused.

After the warm-up, you lead her to the weight machines. "Let's start with something simple, like the leg extension machine. This will work your quadriceps."

She looks at the machine as if it were some kind of medieval torture device. "Quadriceps... Right. And this does what exactly? Makes me gain muscles?"

"Exactly. You sit here, adjust the weight, and lift your legs to extend the knee. It’s great for toning the thighs."

She sits down, but instead of following your instructions, she just pretends to be confused. "I don't think I'm getting it. Can you show me again?"

You lean in to help her adjust the position of her legs, and you feel her gaze fixed on you. "Like this? Is it good now?" she asks, her voice softer than it should be for a simple exercise instruction.

"Yes, it's perfect," you reply.

"So, have you been training for a long time?" she asks as you guide her through the exercise. "It’s noticeable, you know... by your physique, the way you explain…"

"I’ve been training for a few years. It’s a passion of mine."

"Passion? Interesting," she says. "And are you single? Or is there someone waiting for you at home after you spend the day helping women like me stay in shape?"

You hesitate, realizing that the conversation is veering off course.

"I'm single. I guess my work takes up most of my time. What about you? You told me your husband is always traveling, right?"

"He's away most of the time, yes. His work is... demanding. But luckily, I know how to take care of myself," she says, lifting her legs on the machine with a little more enthusiasm. When Irene was done, she paused to drink water, then walked between the machines until she chose the next one. “Hey, help me here. I don't want to mess up the movement, I need your guidance." She says, standing in front of the lat pulldown machine.

"Oh, great. This one’s for your back and shoulders," you explain, adjusting the weight. "You hold here, pull the bar down, and then release slowly, feeling the resistance."

She looks at the machine as if it were an abstract art piece.

"Looks complicated. Show me how it's done?"

You demonstrate the movement, feeling her eyes on every motion of your body. When you finish, she positions herself, but instead of pulling the bar, she holds it for a second, looking at you with a false expression of confusion. "I think I’m not doing it right. Can you guide me?"

You approach again, this time placing your hands on her arms, helping her execute the movement. "Like this," you say, your voice a little lower. "Pull with your back muscles, not just your arms."

"Since you’ve been working out for a long time, you must be very strong," she comments as she pulls the bar, her muscles tensing softly under your hands. "And you must be used to lifting heavy, right?"

"It depends on the workout," you respond, trying to ignore the fact that every word she says seems to have a double meaning. "But it’s always good to vary, to do a bit of everything."

"So, how many of these should I do?" she asks, as if she’s genuinely interested in the answer, but her eyes say something else.

"Let's do three sets of twelve reps," you reply, trying to keep a professional tone. She does the first set with you close by, watching every movement, and then asks for your help with the next machine.

The dynamic continues until, by the end of the workout, she’s sweating, but in a way that looks more like a healthy glow than discomfort. She stretches, her muscles relaxing, and looks at you with that same smile that started everything. "I think you made me work pretty hard today. Maybe I’ll need a massage afterward," she says, her tone provocative.

You smile, unsure whether to take her seriously or laugh. "Massages aren’t part of the package, but we can talk about a relaxation stretch."

"We’ll see," she says, stepping closer with that smile that always precedes trouble, the kind you should have learned to avoid. “It seems like I’m the only one sweating here,” she says, with a sweetness that’s pure venom, before leaning in and, without warning, licking your cheek.

You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. "Ms. Irene, what is this?!"

"I told you, you’re not very sweaty. And I licked you to prove it," she responds with the casualness of someone asking the time.

"But what the hell does that mean? I came here to work—"

"And you’ll get paid at the end, of course!" she interrupts, her smile widening in a way that only makes things worse. “I just want… to have a little fun with you. Include that in the deal. You could earn a bonus for it, if you’d like.”

She takes another step forward.

“Irene, you’re married. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not a good idea.”

“No one needs to know, sweetheart,” she whispers, as if it were a secret you truly wanted to hear. “You’re too young to be so worried about life.”

You try to speak, but the words come out jumbled, as if your mouth forgot how to work.

“I-I… This isn’t right.”

She laughs, a sound that makes you feel like a mischievous boy caught in the act. “I bet I’ll make you change your mind once you see what you’re missing.” With a quick, decisive movement, she removes her top, revealing small, pale, perfect, and provocative breasts. Her smile widens, and you feel your face flush with heat. Worse than that—you feel your cock pulse in your pants.

“What do you think?” she asks, each word dripping with irony and certainty.

“Cover yourself, please!” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, but the plea is almost pathetic.

“Oh, don’t play the saint with me,” she retorts, suddenly stepping closer, grabbing your hand with firm resolve and placing it on her breast. The touch is warm and soft. You swallow hard, but it feels like the lump in your throat is stuck there for good. And the worst part? You can’t pull your hand away.

“What do you think? My boobs are small, but they fit perfectly in your mouth,” she teases, her voice lower, more intense.

“This isn’t right, Ms. Irene…” you try, but your resistance is fragile.

“Shh! Just call me Irene,” she orders, and before you can protest again, she seals any chance of escape with a kiss—warm and commanding, as if she already knew you wouldn’t say no.

Before you could even process what was happening, Irene had already wrapped her hand around your cock. With force. With a desire that you felt reverberate down your spine. “You’re so hard for me,” she whispers, her lips pulling away from yours, but the heat of her proximity still clinging to your skin.

“Irene…” you murmur, the name escaping as a whisper, almost a plea, but for what? For her to stop or to keep going?

“That’s right,” she continues, giving you no room to regain control. “I want to hear you moan my name while you fuck me good.”

Before you could refuse—or worse, agree—she pulls you toward a weight bench like she’s practiced the move a thousand times. It’s astonishing how a woman so small, so delicate, can exert such absolute control over you. You feel like a toy in her hands, powerless to resist.

You take off your shirt while she kneels to untie your shoes, making sure every detail is perfect, that you’re comfortable—but not for you, for her. When she asks you to take off the rest, you comply without question, feeling the cool air caress your exposed skin. She compliments your physique, her words sliding over your skin like hot oil. Her hands roam over your muscles, her fingers tracing the contours of your biceps.

“You’re so hot,” she murmurs, kissing your chest, her lips warm and soft. The excitement builds within you, uncontrollable, wild.

You sit back down on the bench, Irene kneels between your legs, her smile a mix of wickedness and pure desire. She takes your cock with a confidence that makes you hold your breath, her touch firm, almost possessive. “Wow… you’re much bigger and thicker than my husband,” she murmurs, licking the tip, teasing, while her eyes remain fixed on yours. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have something like this… I’m going to love gagging on this cock.”

She slowly opens her mouth, her lips stretching around the head of your cock, and the sensation is mind-blowing. You watch, mesmerized, as she starts to take you in, inch by inch, until her mouth is completely full. “Oh, yes,” she mumbles with difficulty, her words muffled as she struggles to accommodate your size.

She begins to move her head up and down, faster and faster, the wet, warm sound of her mouth creating a steady rhythm. Her small mouth adjusts to your cock, fighting the instinct to pull away, but instead, she pushes forward, making it clear she wants more.

The sight of her, drowning on your cock, is almost unbearably arousing. You can’t resist, your hands go to her hair, pulling to gain more control. With a decisive move, you push deeper into her throat, and the muffled moan she lets out is a mix of pleasure and challenge. “Just like that,” she moans, tears welling in her eyes from pleasure and effort, but with no intention of stopping. She wants this as much as you do.

You feel her throat tightening around your cock, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you as she takes you as deep as she can, not giving up even when her air becomes scarce. The mix of pain and pleasure on her face only fuels your desire further, and you continue, deeper and deeper, until she finally has to stop to breathe, gasping, but with a satisfied, lascivious smile on her face.

Irene stands up, her gaze burning with a desire that mirrors your own. She starts to take off her leggings, revealing she’s not wearing any panties. The sight of her like this, naked and ready, is enough to take your breath away.

Without a second thought, you grab her firmly, your hands holding her slim waist as you lift her off the ground with an ease you didn’t even know you had. Irene lets out a low, sensual moan as she wraps her legs around you, locking her ankles behind your back, pulling the two of you even closer. With a decisive movement, you press her against the nearest wall, the cold concrete contrasting with the growing heat between you.

“Ohhh, yes,” she moans as you penetrate her for the first time, her head falling back, hitting the wall, but she doesn’t seem to care. “You’re so thick!”

With each thrust, Irene responds with louder, more desperate moans. “Just like that, baby… more, please, more!” Her voice is a mix of command and plea, her nails digging into your shoulders, pulling you closer, as if she wants to merge with you.

“That’s it! Oh, God! You fuck me better than my husband!”

That somehow spurs you on, every movement becoming deeper, stronger, as if you’re trying to shove every inch of yourself into her. Irene bites her lip, her face in pure pleasure, and then she starts babbling, as if facial expressions weren’t enough to describe what she’s feeling. “Yes… fuck me… fuck me hard… do what my husband never could…”

But she’s not the only one on the edge. The heat of her body, the almost painful tightness around your cock, every moan and sigh, it all makes you want more, makes you lose control.

After what feels like both an eternity and an instant, you feel like you need more. With a quick move, you pull away from the wall and carry her to the bench. Irene drops to the floor, turns around, positioning herself on all fours while you sit down. She positions herself, slowly lowering onto your cock, moaning as she feels you stretch inside her, filling every inch.

She leans back against you, her head resting on your shoulder, her body sinking even further into your lap. Your hands immediately move to her small breasts, squeezing them, while your lips find her delicate neck, biting and sucking the soft skin. Irene lets out a loud moan, the sound of pure satisfaction, and arches her body, pushing herself even deeper.

“Yes… leave a mark… mark that you were here… that you fucked me like no one ever has,” she pleads, her words breathless, interrupted by moans that only grow louder as you squeeze and thrust into her.

You don’t hesitate, biting harder, leaving a visible mark on her neck, a testament to what’s happening. Irene shudders in response, her pussy tightening even more around you, each of her movements sending waves of pleasure through you, making you forget any shred of morality. She moves against you, her rhythm frantic, the need for more, always more, evident in every gesture.

“Yes… yes, baby… fuck me until I can’t take it anymore,” she moans, her hands reaching back, grabbing your neck, pulling you closer as she continues to move, to lose herself in the sensation.

Irene, breathless, leans in closer, and with a soft voice, almost a whisper, says in your ear, “I want you to fuck my tight ass.”

Her words are like a match striking the box, igniting something fierce within you. Irene rises off your lap and walks to a corner of the gym, where she grabs a bottle of lube. She returns with a mischievous smile, shaking the bottle in the air. “I brought this just for this moment,” she says.

“You had this in mind from the start, didn’t you?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

Irene doesn’t bother replying. Instead, she kisses you before lying down on the padded floor, her pale skin contrasting with the dark material, her body exposed in a posture of pure submission, but with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what they want. “Come here, you naughty boy,” she calls, her voice like poisoned honey.

You kneel beside her, your hands trembling with desire as you reach for the lube. Irene smiles at you, then gets on all fours and arches her back. With steady movements, you pour the gel into your palm and begin applying it to her ass, feeling the warm, soft skin under your fingers. Irene lets out a low sigh, closing her eyes, savoring the sensation. "That's it... get me ready, I want to feel every inch of your thick cock inside me."

You don’t waste any time. With one hand, you spread the lube around and inside her ass, your fingers gently penetrating to prepare her. Irene bites her lip, her body slightly writhing, a mix of pleasure and anticipation. "Feels good, keep going... make me ready for you."

When you feel she’s sufficiently lubed, you apply the rest to your cock, rubbing it until it’s fully coated, hard and throbbing.

Irene changes position, lying on her back on the floor. You position yourself between her raised legs, and she looks at you with eyes full of desire. "Come on, don't wait any longer," she begs, her voice low and sweet. You press the tip of your cock against her tight entrance, pushing slowly, feeling the initial resistance. Irene lets out a moan of pain mixed with pleasure, and you keep going, advancing inch by inch, feeling the heat and pressure around you.

"Ahhh… yes," Irene moans, her eyes closed, her hands gripping the padding beneath her as you penetrate her slowly. "It's so big… so tight…"

You keep pushing, feeling her ass open up, millimeter by millimeter, her body adjusting to your size. The heat, the pressure, the sensation of filling her completely is indescribable, and the low moan she lets out only fuels your desire. "Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me deeper," she pleads.

You obey, pushing deeper until you're finally all the way inside her. Irene lets out a muffled moan, a sound of pure satisfaction, her body arching with pleasure. "Yes… like that… don’t stop," she begs, her eyes shining with wild desire. You start to move, slowly at first, savoring every second, every contortion of her body, every moan that escapes her lips.

As you gain rhythm, Irene’s moans grow louder, more desperate. "Yes… fuck my ass… do what I never let my husband do… ahhh… harder… please," she moans, every word an encouragement for you to go deeper, to push both of you to the limit.

And you do, increasing your speed and force, your hands gripping her thighs firmly, guiding each thrust with precision, feeling her body tremble with pleasure until it all comes down to heat, sweat, the pure desire consuming you both.

Irene then begins to tremble, her body stiff with imminent pleasure. She looks at you, her eyes burning with lust and urgency. "Mmm, I’m about to cum, babe… Let’s cum together?" she asks, her voice broken by moans.

You feel her body pulsing around you, each contraction almost pushing you over the edge.

"Do you want to come inside my pussy? Fill it with your cum?"

The desire and madness of the moment take over you. “Can I?” you ask, your voice tense, almost disbelieving.

“Of course you can,” she replies with a wicked smile, "I'm on the pill, darling. I want to feel you unload everything inside me."

With that, you both move into the classic missionary position. Irene spreads her legs and bends them, her feet planted on the floor, while you kneel between her thighs, your cock positioned exactly where she wants it. Irene wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth and tightness of her pussy confirm your decision: you need to cum inside her.

You start thrusting into her, each stroke deeper and faster than the last. Irene moans loudly, the sound of her moans echoing through the gym. “Ahhh, yes… more… harder…” she screams, her eyes closed in pure ecstasy. “Fuck my pussy… Make me your cum dump.”

You’re on the verge of exploding, your entire body tense with the anticipation of climax. Irene feels it and, between moans, murmurs, “I’m almost there… I’m going to cum…”

“Me too… I’m almost there…” you reply, your breathing fast.

She opens her eyes, her gaze burning with intensity. “Have you ever cum inside a stranger before, huh? Ever filled a married woman with cum, you pervert?” She asks, her words hitting you like a wave of heat.

Those words make you lose control. With one last, powerful thrust, you bury yourself deep inside her, feeling your cum release into the depths of Irene’s pussy. She screams as she cums at the same time, her body writhing beneath you, her legs tightening around your waist.

“Ahhh… I can feel it all… it’s so warm… so good…” Irene moans, her words loaded with pure pleasure, her breathing ragged as she feels every hot stream filling her. You keep moving, even as the orgasm leaves you breathless, prolonging the pleasure for both of you.

When you finally pull away, your cock slipping out, cum begins to slowly drip from her pussy.

Irene smiles, a satisfied and wicked smile, as she looks at you, her breathing still uneven. "That was… exactly what I wanted," she says, her eyes gleaming with contentment, as the cum drips between her thighs, and you watch, fascinated, as she uses her fingers to spread her lips, letting the cum flow freely. She collects some of the semen with a finger and brings it to her mouth, tasting the result of your mix.

Irene kneels beside you and leans in for a deep kiss, her lips warm and moist against yours, while her hands glide over your body, caressing you with a certain tenderness.

“So, handsome, what did you think of the workout?” she asks.

You, still with your body pulsing with residual pleasure, respond with a smile, “I loved it. It was… incredible.”

Irene smiles back. “Good to hear that,” she says, with a note of amusement, “you can consider yourself my official personal trainer now. And the best part, you’re still getting paid for it. Isn’t it the best job in the world?”

You laugh, a mix of incredulity and amusement, realizing that your concept of ‘job’ will never be the same. “So that’s it? Daily sex with a gorgeous woman and I’m going to get paid for it? What are the downsides?”

“There aren’t any. As long as my husband never finds out, of course. But that’s my problem. Your only requirement and concern is to keep me satisfied.”

With that, she gets up nonchalantly, and starts gathering the clothes scattered on the floor.

You also get up, and as you’re dressing, you can’t help but think about the absurdity of the job you’re accepting.

When you’re almost ready to leave, Irene approaches, casually adjusting her hair.

“Don’t forget, tomorrow is training day again,” she says, her voice full of light arrogance. “Same time. Don’t be late. I want more of that… energy,” she adds with a smile.

You nod, laughing to yourself as you try to regain some of your composure.

“Sure, I’ll mark it on the calendar.”

[just-ornstein]

[JK]  My first job was as an Assistant Producer for a video game company called Interplay in Irvine, CA. I had recently graduated from Boston University's School of Fine Arts with an MFA in Directing (I started out as a theatre nerd), but also had some limited coding experience and a passion for computers. It didn't look like I'd be able to make a living directing plays, so I decided to combine entertainment and technology (before it was cool!) and pitched myself to Brian Fargo, Interplay's CEO. He gave me my first break. I packed up and moved out west, and I've been producing games ever since.

[JK] I loved my time at EA. I was there for almost a full decade, and learned a tremendous amount about game-making, and met the most talented and driven people, who I remain in touch with today. EA gave me many opportunities, and never stopped betting on me. I worked on The Sims for nearly 5 years, and then afterwards, I worked on console action games as part of the Visceral studio. I was the Creative Director for the 2007 game "The Simpsons", and was the Executive Producer and Creative Director for the 2009 game "Dante's Inferno".

[JK] I haven't played in a long while, but I do recall that after the game shipped, my wife and I played the retail version for some time -- we created ourselves, and experimented with having a baby ahead of the actual birth of our son (in 2007). Even though I'd been part of the development team, and understood deeply how the simulation worked, I was still continually surprised at how "real" our Sims felt, and how accurate their responses were to having a baby in the house. It really felt like "us"!

Now for some of the development and lore related questions:

[JK] So I ended up in the incredibly fortunate position of creating the shipping neighborhoods for The Sims 2, and recruiting a few teammates to help me as we went along. 

Around the same time, we started using the Buy/Build tools to make houses we could save, and also bring them into each new build of the game (correcting for any bugs and incompatibilities). With the import tool, we could load Sims into these houses. In time, this "vanguard QA" process turned into a creative endeavor to define the "saved state" of the neighborhoods we would actually end up shipping with the game.

On playtesting & the leftover sims data on various lots:

Basically, we were in the late stages of development, and the Save Game functionality wasn't quite working. In order to test the game properly, you really needed to have a lot of assets, and a lot of Sims with histories (as if you'd been playing them for weeks) to test out everything the game had to offer. So I started defining a set of characters in a spreadsheet, with all their tuning variables, and worked with engineering to create an importer, so that with each new build, I could essentially "load" a kind of massive saved game, and quickly start playing and testing. 

It was fairly organic, and as the game's functionality improved, so did our starter houses and families. 

The thought process behind the creation of the iconic three neighborhoods:

I would not say it was particularly planned out ahead of time. We knew we needed a few saved houses to ship with the game; Sims 1, after all, had the Goth house, and Bob Newbie's house. But there wasn't necessarily a clear direction for what the neighborhood would be for Sims 2. We needed the game to be far enough along, so that the neighborhood could be a proper showcase for all the features in the game. With each new feature that turned alpha, I had a new tool in my toolbox, and I could expand the houses and families I was working on. Once we had the multi-neighborhood functionality, I decided we would not just have 1 starter neighborhood, but 3. With the Aging feature, Memories, a few wacky objects, plus a huge catalog of architectural and decorative content, I felt we had enough material for 3 truly distinct neighborhoods. And we added a couple of people to what became the "Neighborhood Team" around that time.

Later, when we created Strangetown, and eventually Veronaville, I believe we went back and changed Pleasantville to Pleasantview... because I liked the alliteration of "Verona-Ville", and there was no sense in having two "villes". (To this day, by the way, I still don't know whether to capitalize the "V" -- this was hotly debated at the time!)

Pleasantview:

Anyway, to answer your question, we of course started with Pleasantview. As I recall, we were not quite committed to multiple neighborhoods at first, and I think it was called Pleasantville initially, which was kind of a nod to Simsville... but without calling it Simsville, which was a little too on the nose. (There had also been an ill-fated game in development at Maxis at the time, called SimsVille, which was cancelled.) It's been suggested that Pleasantville referred to the movie, but I don't think I ever saw that movie, and we just felt that Pleasantville kind of captured the feeling of the game, and the relaxing, simple, idyllic world of the Sims.

Pleasantview started as a place to capture the aging feature, which was all new to The Sims 2. We knew we had toddlers, teens, and elders to play with, so we started making families that reflected the various stages of family life: the single mom with 3 young kids, the parents with two teens, the old rich guy with two young gold-diggers, etc. We also had a much greater variety of ethnicity to play with than Sims 1, and we had all new variables like sexual orientation and memories. All these things made for rich fodder for a great diversity of families. Then, once we had family trees, and tombstones that carried the actual data for the dead Sims, the doors really blew open. We started asking ourselves, "What if Bella and Mortimer Goth could be characters in Sims 2, but aged 25 years? And what if Cassandra is grown up? And what if Bella is actually missing, and that could be a fun mystery hanging over the whole game?" And then finally the "Big Life Moments" went into the game -- like weddings and birthdays -- and we could sort of tee these up in the Save Game, so that they would happen within the first few minutes of playing the families. This served both as a tutorial for the features, but also a great story-telling device.

Anyway, it all just flowed from there, as we started creating connections between families, relationships, histories, family trees, and stories that we could weave into the game, using only the simulation features that were available to us. It was a really fun and creative time, and we wrote all of the lore of Sims 2 within a couple of months, and then just brought it to life in the game.

Strangetown:

Strangetown was kind of a no-brainer. We needed an alternate neighborhood for all the paranormal stuff the Sims was known for: alien abduction, male pregnancy, science experiments, ghosts, etc. We had the desert terrain, which created a nice contrast to the lush Pleasantville, and gave it an obvious Area 51 vibe.

The fact that Veronaville is the oldest file probably reflects the fact that it was finished first, not that it was started first. That's my guess anyway. It was the simplest neighborhood, in many ways, and didn't have as much complexity in terms of features like staged big life moments, getting the abduction timing right, the alien DNA thing (which I think was somewhat buggy up until the end), etc.  So it's possible that we simply had Veronaville "in the can", while we put the last polish on Pleasantville (which was the first and most important neighborhood, in terms of making a good impression) and Strangeville (which was tricky technically).

Veronaville:

But my personal favorite was Veronaville. We had this cool Tudor style collection in the Build mode catalog, and I wanted to ship some houses that showed off those assets. We also had the teen thing going on in the aging game, plus a lot of romance features, as well as enemies. I have always been a Shakespeare buff since graduate school, so putting all that together, I got the idea that our third neighborhood should be a modern-day telling of the Romeo and Juliet story. It was Montys and Capps (instead of Montagues and Capulets), and it just kind of wrote itself. We had fun creating the past family trees, where everyone had died young because they kept killing each other off in the ongoing vendetta.

[JK] You know, I have never seen The Lone Gunmen, and I don't remember making any kind of direct references with the Strangetown Sims, other than the general Area 51 theme, as you point out. Charles London helped out a lot with naming Sims, and I'm pretty sure we owe "Vidcund" and "Lazlo" to him ... though many team members pitched in creatively. He may have had something in mind, but for me, I largely went off of very generic and stereotypical ideas when crafting these neighborhoods. I kind of wanted them to be almost "groaners" ... they were meant to be tropes in every sense of the word. And then we snuck in some easter eggs. But largely, we were trying to create a completely original lore.

[JK] Well, I think we kind of pushed it with The Sims 2, to be honest, and I remember getting a little blow-back about Bunny Broke, for example. Bunny Broke was the original name for Brandi Broke. Not everyone found that funny, as I recall, and I can understand that. It must have been changed before we shipped.

We also almost shipped the first outwardly gay Sims in those neighborhoods, which was bold for EA back in 2004. My recollection was that we had set up the Dreamers to be gay (Dirk and Darren), but I'm looking back now and see that's not the case. So I'm either remembering incorrectly (probably) or something changed during development.

In general we just did things that we found funny and clever, and we just pulled from all the tropes of American life.

[JK] The alien abduction started in Sims 1, with a telescope object that was introduced in the "Livin' Large" expansion pack. That's when some of the wackier ideas got introduced into the Sims lore. That pack shipped just before I joined Maxis in 2001; when I got there, the team had shipped "House Party" and was underway on "Hot Date". So I couldn't tell you how the original idea came about, but The Sims had this 50's Americana vibe from the beginning, and UFOs kind of played right into that. So the alien abduction telescope was a no-brainer to bring back in Sims 2. The male pregnancy was a new twist on the Sims 1 telescope thing. It must have been that the new version (Sims 2) gave us the tech and flexibility to have male Sims become pregnant, so while this was turned "off" for the core game, we decided to take advantage of this and make a storyline out of it. I think this really grew out of the fact that we had aliens, and alien DNA, and so it was not complicated to pre-bake a baby that would come out as an alien when born. The idea of a bunch of guys living together, and then one gets abducted, impregnated, and then gives birth to an alien baby ... I mean, I think we just all thought that was hilarious, in a sit-com kind of way. Not sure there was much more to it than that. Everything usually came from the designers discovering ways to tweak and play with the tech, to get to funny outcomes.

[JK] Possibly we were just testing the functionality of the Wants/Fears and Memories systems throughout development, and some stuff got left over.

[JK] I can't remember, but that sounds like something we would have done! I'm pretty sure we laid the groundwork for more stories that we ended up delivering :) But The Sims 2 was a great foundation for a lot of continued lore that followed.

--

I once again want to thank Jonathan Knight for granting me this opportunity and taking the time from his busy schedule to answer my questions.

[agirlwithglam]

🌟 become your dream girl before 2025! 🌟

THIS WILL *ACTUALLY* CHANGE YOUR LIFE.

do you know how many people are waiting until next year to glow up and actually start to become their dream self? now just think, if you started now, before 2025, how far you would be. how much more skills and knowledge you would have. you're literally getting a head start. so what are you doing dilly-dallying until 2025? heres your guide to ending this year accomplishing everything you need to and starting 2025 with everything you need.

in this post i will include mindset shifts, how to become a better person, actionable advice, actually becoming a new person <3

👑know what you want.

who do you want to become at the end of this year? what does your dream girl look like? what kind of body does she have? her clothes? who are the people she hangs out with on a daily basis- friends?

create a very clear version in your head and use pinterest to show photos of what your goals are- for ex: girls at the gym, journalling, writing, studying, reading, learning, walking, with friends, spending time outside, going swimming, playing sports, doing a skill/ hobby.

you can also find an idol/ an inspiration- a youtuber, influencer, parent, anyone who you look up to and want to somewhat have a similar life like them. (for ex: thewizardliz, tam kaur) whatever is important to you this goes hand in hand with the next point:

👑goals.

any unfinished projects, any goals you said you'd do in the beginning of the year, get them all down on paper. if you've finished any of them, great!- tick them off. but if you haven't then its time to lock in. pick the ones that are most important to you. that you know that achieving these will 100% get you closer to your goal. doing this makes sure you get rid of the ones that you think are "productive" when in reality they just help you procrastinate.

finish any unfinished projects or books you have before the new year begins because 2025 is about bringing in new, fresh opportunities and things. for me personally, i have a few crochet projects that i want to finish before the end of this year so i can start the new year with nothing old from the year before!

👑cutting.

you are going to be becoming a new person- new mindset, new values, new perception on life, etc. the people in your life currently probably won't align with this new version of you. because if the people around you still only know the old you, your growth won't happen because it will feel extremely unnatural without the right people around you. this means you're going to have to decide whether you are letting any of your friends go. if they don't serve you or make you feel happier or bring in any value to your life, im sorry but its time to cut them off.

but of course if you actually have good, kind, loving friends who grow with you and support you all the way, keep them. the goal is to remove the people who don't serve your highest self. not remove the people who you know will be there for you.

but along with this, if you notice that those people are acting a bit more weirdly/ strangely now that you're improving- giving you backhanded compliments, talking about you behind your back, or just giving you a weird vibe in general, trust your gut. those people don't want to see you going to a higher place where you're thriving- keeping them in your life can be terrible for your highest good.

remember that doing this doesn't mean that you're not going to get better because BETTER ALWAYS COMES. god will give you more people who you couldn't have ever dreamed could be so amazing. so never keep toxic people in your life out of fear that you'll be alone forever. (remember: 8 billion people in the world.)

👑mindset.

dont wait to change your mindset only once you achieve the dream body or the best grade- start now. people can take away everything from you but they can't take away your mindset, skills, and knowledge. here are some mindset shifts to develop:

the abundance mindset. know that everything happens for your highest and greatest good only! everything will work out in the end for you because God hasn't put you on this earth to suffer. if you are religeous (God) or spiritual (the universe) or even believe theres a higher faith, why on earth would you willingly believe that your purpose here is to have a bad time? obstacles will come your way and you will make bad decisions and mistakes. but all these jsut contribute to the person you are today and the person who you'll be in the future!

i will make it. believe in your vision and yourself so fiercely that you know in your bones that you will achieve your goals. you will travel the world and discover new places, you will get to retire your parents, you will get to buy expensive bags for your mom, you will be that rich sister/daughter/ wife, you will help people around the whole world, you will have people around you who love and care for you, you will achieve whatever dream you had since you were a kid and whatever dream you have right now. you will you will you will! know this so strongly but also know that i will achieve there one day, but i also am so blessed and grateful for the life i have right now! i have so many privileges and such an amazing life that i would never trade away for anything.

growth mindset if you fail, IT IS NOT THE END OF THE WORLD. please stop being afraid of failing, be afraid of never trying!! you have no idea how freeing failing is because once you do, then you'll never have that "what if" in the back of your mind, never have that small voice asking what could have happened if you had done that thing. so if you do fail, perfect! that means that you won't waste any more time wondering what would have happened. having a growth mindset means that you know you're human and you'll make mistakes, but that doesnt make you a bad person and it doesn't take away your capability to still accomplish your goals. if you fail be able to brush it off, and keep trying again and again. Thomas Edison had 1000 failed attempts to make the light bulb. yet he learnt from what didn't work, took that into consideration, then tried again. and again. and again. and now? your probably sitting in a room with light that you have because he persisted in his goal!

stay positive always have a positive outlook and perspective of life. look at the beauty and what you have instead of what you lack. feel happy joyful energy vibrate through you everyday. do things that just make you a more positive person in general! feeling happier makes you look 100x more attractive and will change the way you interact with the world!!

👑be a better person.

new year new you right? so its time you up level the way you talk and treat others. because the goal isn't to be A b*tch, the goal is to be THAT b*tch! so going around being rude isn't going to do anything for you. being kind however- having manners, checking up on people, asking how their day was, being charismatic, etc- thats what can get you so much more opportunities! you're going to be kind, but not a people pleaser- ofc prioritise yourself always but also at the same time- if you have made a commitment to be somewhere for someone at a certain time, honor that commitment. be the friend you wish you had.

being mean to everyone just because you were hurt by someone else is not it. yes, so you were hurt. grow, evolve, heal. you're stronger than this. you're stronger than you think. you can overcome anything and you can become an even better person, capable of loving fully and wholly!

misc tips:

change what you consume. start watching thewizardliz, tam kaur on youtube. have an inspiration/ idol to look up to in life.

workout. i dont care if its not one of your goals to have a fit body, but don't workout for that. workout because you love yourself. because its actually proven to make you happier, because you deserve a healthy, fully functioning body.

DRINK WATER. do you know how many benefits something as simple as that has? clear skin, unchapped lips, better digestive health, weight management, better health, feel more alert and energized, better for immune system, increases brain power, eliminate toxins, ETC ETC!

have a morning routine that literally sets yourself up for success. stimulate your mind with reading self help, learn something, study, focus on a skill, do something that makes your mind active.

journal & check in with yourself.- document your progress! write about how you felt after everyday. did you feel esp happy during anything? do you feel satisfied at the end of the day? or do you find that your day made you feel tired and drained? do you feel regret and wished you did more at the end of the day?

diary- links with the earlier point. document the day. you can write about it, or what i also like to do is video myself yapping to the camera. talk about whatever you want and let your mind wander free!

you are that it girl! dress the part, smell good, make yourself feel so good that you just can't help but feel like you can conqure anything!!

make sure you're consistently reminded of your goals. what do you want? why do you want to achieve it? reminding yourself of your goals will actually motivate you and make you stop procrastinating. for me its that i don't want any old projects or books having to continue into the new year so i've made a plan that will definitely get it done before the next year!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Expert agencies and elected legislatures

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/21/policy-based-evidence/#decisions-decisions

Since Trump hijacked the Supreme Court, his backers have achieved many of their policy priorities: legalizing bribery, formalizing forced birth, and – with the Loper Bright case, neutering the expert agencies that regulate business:

https://jacobin.com/2024/07/scotus-decisions-chevron-immunity-loper

What the Supreme Court began, Elon Musk and Vivek Ramaswamy are now poised to finish, through the "Department of Government Efficiency," a fake agency whose acronym ("DOGE") continues Musk's long-running cryptocurrency memecoin pump-and-dump. The new department is absurd – imagine a department devoted to "efficiency" with two co-equal leaders who are both famously incapable of getting along with anyone – but that doesn't make it any less dangerous.

Expert agencies are often all that stands between us and extreme misadventure, even death. The modern world is full of modern questions, the kinds of questions that require a high degree of expert knowledge to answer, but also the kinds of questions whose answers you'd better get right.

You're not stupid, nor are you foolish. You could go and learn everything you need to know to evaluate the firmware on your antilock brakes and decide whether to trust them. You could figure out how to assess the Common Core curriculum for pedagogical soundness. You could learn the material science needed to evaluate the soundness of the joists that hold the roof up over your head. You could acquire the biology and chemistry chops to decide whether you want to trust produce that's been treated with Monsanto's Roundup pesticides. You could do the same for cell biology, virology, and epidemiology and decide whether to wear a mask and/or get an MRNA vaccine and/or buy a HEPA filter.

You could do any of these. You might even be able to do two or three of them. But you can't do all of them, and that list is just a small slice of all the highly technical questions that stand between you and misery or an early grave. Practically speaking, you aren't going to develop your own robust meatpacking hygiene standards, nor your own water treatment program, nor your own Boeing 737 MAX inspection protocol.

Markets don't solve this either. If they did, we wouldn't have to worry about chunks of Boeing jets falling on our heads. The reason we have agencies like the FDA (and enabling legislation like the Pure Food and Drug Act) is that markets failed to keep people from being murdered by profit-seeking snake-oil salesmen and radium suppository peddlers.

These vital questions need to be answered by experts, but that's easier said than done. After all, experts disagree about this stuff. Shortcuts for evaluating these disagreements ("distrust any expert whose employer has a stake in a technical question") are crude and often lead you astray. If you dismiss any expert employed by a firm that wants to bring a new product to market, you will lose out on the expertise of people who are so legitimately excited about the potential improvements of an idea that they quit their jobs and go to work for whomever has the best chance of realizing a product based on it. Sure, that doctor who works for a company with a new cancer cure might just be shilling for a big bonus – but maybe they joined the company because they have an informed, truthful belief that the new drug might really cure cancer.

What's more, the scientific method itself speaks against the idea of there being one, permanent answer to any big question. The method is designed as a process of continual refinement, where new evidence is continuously brought forward and evaluated, and where cherished ideas that are invalidated by new evidence are discarded and replaced with new ideas.

So how are we to survive and thrive in a world of questions we ourselves can't answer, that experts disagree about, and whose answers are only ever provisional?

The scientific method has an answer for this, too: refereed, adversarial peer review. The editors of major journals act as umpires in disputes among experts, exercising their editorial discernment to decide which questions are sufficiently in flux as to warrant taking up, then asking parties who disagree with a novel idea to do their damndest to punch holes in it. This process is by no means perfect, but, like democracy, it's the worst form of knowledge creation except for all others which have been tried.

Expert regulators bring this method to governance. They seek comment on technical matters of public concern, propose regulations based on them, invite all parties to comment on these regulations, weigh the evidence, and then pass a rule. This doesn't always get it right, but when it does work, your medicine doesn't poison you, the bridge doesn't collapse as you drive over it, and your airplane doesn't fall out of the sky.

Expert regulators work with legislators to provide an empirical basis for turning political choices into empirically grounded policies. Think of all the times you've heard about how the gerontocracy that dominates the House and the Senate is incapable of making good internet policy because "they're out of touch and don't understand technology." Even if this is true (and sometimes it is, as when Sen Ted Stevens ranted about the internet being "a series of tubes," not "a dump truck"), that doesn't mean that Congress can't make good internet policy.

After all, most Americans can safely drink their tap water, a novelty in human civilization, whose history amounts to short periods of thriving shattered at regular intervals by water-borne plagues. The fact that most of us can safely drink our water, but people who live in Flint (or remote indigenous reservations, or Louisiana's Cancer Alley) can't tells you that these neighbors of ours are being deliberately poisoned, as we know precisely how not to poison them.

How did we (most of us) get to the point where we can drink the water without shitting our guts out? It wasn't because we elected a bunch of water scientists! I don't know the precise number of microbiologists and water experts who've been elected to either house, but it's very small, and their contribution to good sanitation policy is negligible.

We got there by delegating these decisions to expert agencies. Congress formulates a political policy ("make the water safe") and the expert agency turns that policy into a technical program of regulation and enforcement, and your children live to drink another glass of water tomorrow.

Musk and Ramaswamy have set out to destroy this process. In their Wall Street Journal editorial, they explain that expert regulation is "undemocratic" because experts aren't elected:

https://www.wsj.com/opinion/musk-and-ramaswamy-the-doge-plan-to-reform-government-supreme-court-guidance-end-executive-power-grab-fa51c020

They've vowed to remove "thousands" of regulations, and to fire swathes of federal employees who are in charge of enforcing whatever remains:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/11/20/24301975/elon-musk-vivek-ramaswamy-doge-plan

And all this is meant to take place on an accelerated timeline, between now and July 4, 2026 – a timeline that precludes any meaningful assessment of the likely consequences of abolishing the regulations they'll get rid of.

"Chesterton's Fence" – a thought experiment from the novelist GK Chesterton – is instructive here:

There exists in such a case a certain institution or law; let us say, for the sake of simplicity, a fence or gate erected across a road. The more modern type of reformer goes gaily up to it and says, "I don't see the use of this; let us clear it away." To which the more intelligent type of reformer will do well to answer: "If you don't see the use of it, I certainly won't let you clear it away. Go away and think. Then, when you can come back and tell me that you do see the use of it, I may allow you to destroy it.

A regulation that works might well produce no visible sign that it's working. If your water purification system works, everything is fine. It's only when you get rid of the sanitation system that you discover why it was there in the first place, a realization that might well arrive as you expire in a slick of watery stool with a rectum so prolapsed the survivors can use it as a handle when they drag your corpse to the mass burial pits.

When Musk and Ramaswamy decry the influence of "unelected bureaucrats" on your life as "undemocratic," they sound reasonable. If unelected bureaucrats were permitted to set policy without democratic instruction or oversight, that would be autocracy.

Indeed, it would resemble life on the Tesla factory floor: that most autocratic of institutions, where you are at the mercy of the unelected and unqualified CEO of Tesla, who holds the purely ceremonial title of "Chief Engineer" and who paid the company's true founders to falsely describe him as its founder.

But that's not how it works! At its best, expert regulations turns political choices in to policy that reflects the will of democratically accountable, elected representatives. Sometimes this fails, and when it does, the answer is to fix the system – not abolish it.

I have a favorite example of this politics/empiricism fusion. It comes from the UK, where, in 2008, the eminent psychopharmacologist David Nutt was appointed as the "drug czar" to the government. Parliament had determined to overhaul its system of drug classification, and they wanted expert advice:

https://locusmag.com/2021/05/cory-doctorow-qualia/

To provide this advice, Nutt convened a panel of drug experts from different disciplines and asked them to rate each drug in question on how dangerous it was for its user; for its user's family; and for broader society. These rankings were averaged, and then a statistical model was used to determine which drugs were always very dangerous, no matter which group's safety you prioritized, and which drugs were never very dangerous, no matter which group you prioritized.

Empirically, the "always dangerous" drugs should be in the most restricted category. The "never very dangerous" drugs should be at the other end of the scale. Parliament had asked how to rank drugs by their danger, and for these categories, there were clear, factual answers to Parliament's question.

But there were many drugs that didn't always belong in either category: drugs whose danger score changed dramatically based on whether you were more concerned about individual harms, familial harms, or societal harms. This prioritization has no empirical basis: it's a purely political question.

So Nutt and his panel said to Parliament, "Tell us which of these priorities matter the most to you, and we will tell you where these changeable drugs belong in your schedule of restricted substances." In other words, politicians make political determinations, and then experts turn those choices into empirically supported policies.

This is how policy by "unelected bureaucrats" can still be "democratic."

But the Nutt story doesn't end there. Nutt butted heads with politicians, who kept insisting that he retract factual, evidence-supported statements (like "alcohol is more harmful than cannabis"). Nutt refused to do so. It wasn't that he was telling politicians which decisions to make, but he took it as his duty to point out when those decisions did not reflect the policies they were said to be in support of. Eventually, Nutt was fired for his commitment to empirical truth. The UK press dubbed this "The Nutt Sack Affair" and you can read all about it in Nutt's superb book Drugs Without the Hot Air, an indispensable primer on the drug war and its many harms:

https://www.bloomsbury.com/us/drugs-without-the-hot-air-9780857844989/

Congress can't make these decisions. We don't elect enough water experts, virologists, geologists, oncology researchers, structural engineers, aerospace safety experts, pedagogists, gerontoloists, physicists and other experts for Congress to turn its political choices into policy. Mostly, we elect lawyers. Lawyers can do many things, but if you ask a lawyer to tell you how to make your drinking water safe, you will likely die a horrible death.

That's the point. The idea that we should just trust the market to figure this out, or that all regulation should be expressly written into law, is just a way of saying, "you will likely die a horrible death."

Trump – and his hatchet men Musk and Ramaswamy – are not setting out to create evidence-based policy. They are pursuing policy-based evidence, firing everyone capable of telling them how to turn the values espouse (prosperity and safety for all Americans) into policy.

They dress this up in the language of democracy, but the destruction of the expert agencies that turn the political will of our representatives into our daily lives is anything but democratic. It's a prelude to transforming the nation into a land of epistemological chaos, where you never know what's coming out of your faucet.

[midnitetech]

SimU Online Skill Classes (BGC)

Edit: 13th April 2024. Due to popular demand, I've recreated my Skill Classes mod as a separate addon to my Degrees mod (also recreated), so anyone can use this one even if they just have the Base Game. I've also enabled it for Children-Elder, and added more buffs and some quality of life edits. Please make sure you delete the old version if you have it as the file names differ.

You will find a new option on your Phone and Computer for SimU, the online university where you can take Skill Classes in any subject. You can take a quick 20-40 minute class on your Phone for §5, or a longer class on your Computer for §10 with a bigger Skill boost. Instead of searching through pie menus, you will get a scrollable picker to choose the Skill you'd like your Sim to progress in. If they've maxed any Skills already, they won't appear, and any custom Skills you might own will also be available.

Includes different custom buffs and notifications once your online class is over. 

MOD STATUS & SUPPORT

Please check support before reporting an issue.

Contact Me | Report Issue | Suggest Mod

Required: 💾 XML Injector 🔗Note: You can grab my Online Degrees mod here (new and improved , but it's not required)

PATREON (FREE)

[texas-gothic]

Dracula Daily Prep: Gather Your Paprikash!

It's that time of year again. Even as we speak, Jonathan Harker has departed for Transylvania, and the unhallowed halls of Castle Dracula. And as he makes his way towards that foreboding country, he will encounter a singular, most enticing of dishes: Paprika Hendl, or as we might know it better, Chicken Paprikash!

This traditional Central European dish explodes in popularity each May as we all gather around our virtual mess hall to enjoy the spirit of this most influential of gothic novels. Perhaps you yourself are considering throwing together a pot this year? Well, if you are, let this be your guide.

So, first, let's discuss the most important of the ingredients here: authentic hungarian paprika. Now, the recipe I first used last year called only for Sweet Paprika, but I personally found that version to be a little bland. I'm remedying this by adding some Hot Paprika as well. However, this is just my personal experimentation. Hungarian Hot Paprika can in fact be very hot, so if you're not comfortable with anything too spicy, feel free to opt only for the Sweet Paprika.

(Both of these I had to order online.)

Next, is another very important addition. As youre gathering your basic cornerstones of cooking (namely yellow onion, roma tomato, and garlic for this recipe) you may find yourself passing up on something that could vastly improve your dish. I'm talking, of course, about Hungarian Wax Peppers. These peppers range in heat, from meak and mild to slightly hotter than you'd average jalapeño. As per instruction, you should only use one. But on my end, I found the single pepper to be a little underwhelming, and I had trouble picking out it's flavor. So, this year, I'll be using two of them.

I got these from Central Market, an upmarket gorcer on Westheimer. They're a cousin of HEB, and you can find one or two in every major city in Texas. If you're elsewhere, try an alternative like Whole Foods, or try to find a European or International food market in your area.

Next, let's talk chicken. You can't have Chicken Paprkiash without the chicken, after all.

You're going to want to go with dark meat cuts for this. Traditionally the dish would use a mix of legs and thighs. Personally, I suggest using only the thighs, which you'll want to get bone-in and skin-on. The thigh provides a flater surface for browning than the leg, as well as more meat.

(A note on food safety, raw chicken will usually only last 2-3 days in the fridge. So you'll want to grab that fairly close to the day you're actually cooking this. If not, you can do what I'll be doing, and sticking it in the freezer until about 24 hours before I start cooking.)

So, as you gather your meat, produce, and spice you're probably asking yourself, "what on Earth am I going to be eating this with?" And the answer to that is spaetzle! A popular dumpling present in lots of Central European cooking, this is exactly what you need to tie this all together.

Now, while you should be able to find some in the international isle of most major grocers, you might also have to visit an international food store, or perhaps something more upmarket. If none of these options work, then there are a variety of other side dishes that work just as well. Egg noodles are a very popular choice, and in my very American attempt last year, I found that mashed potatoes work especially well.

Now that you've got all these things together, you're very nearly done. All that's left is the thickener. Paprikash is thickened using a blend of flour, heavy whipping cream, and sour cream. We'll get onto preparing this mixture in my post on actually cooking the paprikash, but until then, acquiring them should be a cake walk at any place food items are sold.

Now that will conclude the actual grocery list for just the Paprikash itself, but I do have one more pointer on how to really liven up this meal. Now, if you're under 21 or if perhaps you take after our dear, depraved, beloathed Count

Then you can skip this next bit. As a wine professional myself, I find that a well paired glass can add a tremendous flare to nearly any already great dinner. In the case of something like Chicken Paprkiash, and keeping with the Central European theme, I could hardly think of a better match than a good German Pinot Noir, also known as a Spatburgunder. Pinot from Germany typically has a very light body and a refreshing acidity that plays very well with the rich and creamy sauce of Chicken Paprikash. The palate of earth and red fruit should always pair nicely with the smoke of the paprika, as well as being a general good partner for any chicken. I myself am going with this 2020 Rheingau from August Kesseler.

And with that, we are done! Hit those checkout isles and make sure to get home before dark. Terrible things have sway over the world once the sun has gone down. So if the crowd does keep you locked up until nightfall, make sure to graciously accept any crucifixes given to you by kindly, elderly grandmothers and inn keepers. But whatever you do, make sure to pop in on Friday, when I'll be sharing a step by step guide on taking these ingredients and turning them into a dinner that will make our good friend Jonathan go red as a fire truck!

Happy Dracula Week everybody!

[ryescapades]

aubade · ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ°࿐ | kaiju no. 8

— there is you, and then there is him. as dawn breaks, love lays its claim.

fluff prompt: palm kisses <3 characters: hoshina soshiro x gn weapon specialist!reader

genre/warning: fluff, mutual pining, ooc hoshina prolly, indirect confession, takes place after the sagamihara operation's celebration party, narumi cameo bcs why not

a/n: specially made for my lovely moot @/spookuna <3 i'm a bit attached to this one ngl..

2.9k wc

they say it is a soldier's pride to be able to serve the country they've sworn their lives on. duty, honor and discipline; these are all necessary in order to bring out the best in oneself to protect what matters to them.

expectedly, it is no different in the jakdf. bound by duty, the officers, no matter what position or department they're in, are well aware of the obligation they have to adhere to. they hone their skills and take pride in their abilities to be the best version of themselves so as to protect the lives of the people from the onslaught of kaiju in any way they can.

however, as a defense force officer yourself, your pride lies in your weapons. specifically, the weapons that you made.

ever since you were a mere child, all you've ever known was the forging of heated metals and the whirring sound of machines. the you from years ago used to enjoy watching the process of weapon-making, both machinery and man-made alike. hence, it is only natural that you grew up pursuing a career born out of your interest; a weapon specialist in the jakdf.

you were one of their best, in fact. hardworking and dedicated, you were deserving enough to be stationed at the first division base, where all the cream of the crops reside. studying and researching together with your fellow engineers in the process of making kaiju-specialized arsenals have become as natural as eating your daily meals.

additionally, discussing about the weapons with the soldiers themselves for any improvements is something you'd grown to enjoy doing.

and unbeknownst to most of those around you, you might just have the slightest bit of favoritism towards one soldier in particular...

"how was it, the blaze round? or is the explosive one still better?" you inquire during one afternoon in the testing lab. the first division officer turns to you while holding the rifle containing said blazing cartridges, half of it already emptied after the shooting trial.

"it's working well, y/n-san! your idea of flaming bullets is really doing wonders, seriously. but i do think the design could be better though, for instance..." as he drones on about what upgrades you could add to the gun, you listen with rapt attention, jotting down new ideas on your notebook. after the testing session ends, you mull over your notes in the silence of the now-empty lab.

a curious voice, fused with a bit of bafflement then brings you out of your headspace that is previously filled with a bunch of chemicals, kaiju remains and mechanical parts.

"you're still doing tests on that fire gun-thingy?" you lift your head up to see captain narumi waltzing in, the usual air of confidence and nonchalance sticking to him like a second skin.

you perk up, throwing him a quick salute. "yep, as usual! still got a long way to go though. there's so many stuff i need to fix, especially the cartridge and the substance formula. and there's the barrel part too—"

narumi grimaces, "okay, okay, chill, y/n. i'm only here to pick up my weapon, not to hear you nerd out about your little experiment," he huffs, walking over to the corner of the lab where his bayonet case is kept. you only give a responding chuckle and a lighthearted apology.

being the nosy ass that he is, narumi peeks over your figure to glimpse at what you're working on. however, his magenta hues latch on to your hands. in all the years he's known you, narumi has only ever seen you with your gloves on but today, your hands are bare and free from the confine of those military-issued fabrics.

with the case now slung over his shoulder, he's about to interrogate you about the lines he'd just seen on your palms when your phone that was sitting on the desk rings, a familiar name flashing on the screen.

the captain clicks his tongue. "the heck does this asshole want from you?" he questions in annoyance, albeit while sliding the device to you all the same just as you ask him who's calling.

he takes note of the way your eyes light up when they land upon the name of the caller, a smile quirking up on your face as you feel your heart skipping a (few too many) beat. you immediately slide a finger across the screen to put the call on speaker so that you can still look over your findings and talk to him all the while.

right, speaking of favoritism...

"vice-captain hoshina?" you cheerily greet, and narumi forces himself to hold in a gag (spoiler: he fails) when the man on the other line speaks up, "hey there. you free right now?" internally, you almost punched yourself at how giddy you get after hearing the smooth and light baritone of hoshina's voice.

you send your captain a glare before shooing him out with a wave of your hand. gruntling under his breath, the bicolor-haired man rolls his eyes as he pushes the door on his way out. "damn lovebirds,"

you ignore his not-so vague comment, fully focused on the one you're currently in love speaking with. "no, not really. i was just testing out some new stuff. why?" you query.

"you've heard about the sagamihara operation, right? well, ya see... one of my blades broke while i was fightin' no. 8, and the other one is pretty scratched up. i'm afraid i'd have to get the spare ones you keep at the hq," hoshina explains, and your eyebrows raise in shock.

"what? i've only heard that the mission turned out quite the struggle in the end, but nothing about no. 8 showing up. are you okay?" hoshina finds himself to be a lucky man, for you're not there with him to see how wide he's smiling, his cheeks practically hurt from your expression of concern for him.

"i'm all good, don't worry, dear. and besides, i won't be taken down so easily like that, ya know? have some faith in me, yeah?" you blush slightly at the nickname and his teasing tone before letting out a small laugh. "sorry, sorry. i do have faith in you, vice-captain. you hold that 'strongest close-quarters combatant' title for a reason, no?" you muse, not even bothering to keep the sheer honesty from flowing out.

the grip on his own phone tightens, relishing in the subtle praise sneaking behind your words. throughout his years in the defense force, people have complimented him on his hand-to-hand skills, sure. more often so now that he's a high-ranking officer in the third division. but when it comes to you, it just feels... right. assuring, somehow.

hoshina chuckles breathily, "you're right. so, about my swords... should i go there to pick it up or will you be sending a courier for it?"

for a moment you contemplate, weighing over your decisions. on one side, you really don't have any other purpose to go all the way to tachikawa apart from delivering the weapon. plus, your schedule is not exactly flexible enough to be making such impromptu visits to another base.

on the other hand, going to tachikawa means you get to see him. and deliver the weapon, obviously. but the way you see it, meeting him is enough reason for you to confidently set your choice.

"actually... you know what? i'll be going to tachikawa myself,"

if it were anybody else, you would've reprimanded them for disregarding their duties so carelessly like this. why do something so pointlessly time-consuming when there's a more effective way of doing it? or something along the lines of 'you should stick true to your obligation as a defense force officer, something something, blah blah...'

but who could blame you, really. for hoshina soshiro, you would take the tiniest crumb of chance to see him standing in front your very eyes, only to remind yourself time and time again that he's the one your heart longs for.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

the hour clock strikes around six in the morning when you step foot onto the third division's turf, the sun still on its way to reach above the horizon for the incoming dawn.

you had taken some good five minutes of lecturing yourself about impulsively making a trip to another base, hands gripping tight on the steering wheel as you eventually came to terms with the fact that you were, indeed, driving by yourself from the ariake maritime base straight to tachikawa.

being the responsible officer that you are, you informed captain narumi of your little quote unquote adventure, which he only cackled at. you definitely did not bribe him with a new disc game of his choosing for his bs5 if he promised not tell on you to your superiors...

now, as you settle your belongings in the third division's library, you suddenly feel the nerves wrecking inside. it's quite a silly issue, really. it's not like this is the first time you're meeting hoshina. truth be told, you think you've seen more of him than captain ashiro, even though the latter is the more frequent visitor to the main headquarters out of the two.

you can't help it. everything about hoshina just makes you feel nervous, shy, but warm and happy all the same. your heart would beat a thousand miles per hour when he's near, heat rushing to every part of your body as if you had just burned yourself. well, maybe that's partly accurate, with how stupidly and ridiculously hot hoshina soshiro is—

a knock on the door interrupts your train of improper thoughts.

a figure stands at the huge opened entrance, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed against his— oh, sweet lord... he's wearing that compression shirt again. it takes every ounce of your willpower to not let your eyes stray anywhere below the turtleneck-line, lest you're in for a lifetime of teasing by the man.

you're a bit unlucky, it seems. because when you finally look at him, there is a knowing glint in his wine-tinted irises, as if he understands exactly what goes on in your mind, though he produces no word to address it.

"vice-captain, hi," you start, then proceed to mentally smack yourself because what the heck is that lame-ass greeting?

hoshina smiles, and your eyes greedily take in the sight of his curled up mouth. "hi yourself. how was the drive? i was worried for a second when ya said you're comin' here alone. you could've taken the shinkansen... or better yet, i could've gone there myself," thin eyebrows furrowing slightly, he approaches where you stand in the middle of the room where a metal table sits among others.

you laugh sheepishly, scratching gingerly on the skin of your cheek. "traffic was okay, thanks. and this is kind of an impulsive idea, really. i went straight to my car without thinking instead of going to the train station. plus, i wanted to give these to you myself," you say, mentioning to the leather sheaths sitting on the table.

hoshina tilts his head, giving you a confused smile, "why so? aren't they the same ol' blades like the ones i've been using before?" he asks, which causes your expression to brighten.

grabbing the weapons in your hands, you excitedly unsheathe the twin swords before displaying them in front of him. the blades are familiar, marked as his signature weapon SW-2033, gleaming sharp in the dim light of the library and shaped as similarly as his old ones.

"they are, but i added some touch ups to them too! i did some tweaking in the metal constitution of the blades to make them lighter, but more sturdy and tough to cut through harder things. they're supposedly more responsive to any change in your combat power too. the new composition has some kaiju remains in it, but you didn't hear that from me, okay?" you whisper the last part cheekily.

hoshina laughs, comfortably taking the swords when you hand them out to him and slowly turning them back and forth for observation, awestruck with your creation when suddenly a small detail catches his eyes. "what's this?" he mutters curiously, bringing the handle of the swords for a closer scrutiny.

you immediately straighten up at his attentiveness, your arms sliding behind your back and your fingers starting to play with the hem of your gloves from the jitters. "ah, that. well, i figured the swords would hold out much longer this time. so i thought it wouldn't hurt to do a little mark of ownership on each of them," you mumble, holding your breath while gauging his reaction all the same.

there, beside the jagged, razor-sharp edge of the dark steel blade, a small and intricate swirl of his first name is carved, along with a pressed mark of your own initials just above the izumo tech logo at the hilt.

there's a lump his throat, his slanted eyes widening in surprise.

bashfulness washes over you when he doesn't say anything, still staring at the weapons. "o-of course, i can remove my name if that's what you're concerned about! the hilt is easy to be swapped so—"

"no, they're perfect... thank you," he breathes.

your own eyes widen, gulping down the nervousness that is starting to dwindle down a bit, thankfully. you inwardly smile, relieved at how this is turning out. "think nothing of it! it's just something i thought to do in passing and it's not like there are many others in the defense force who specializes in swordsmanship." your hand reaches up to brush it off.

hoshina suddenly freezes when his eyes latch onto your gloved hand, the piece of stitched up cloth slightly nudged up from your earlier fidgeting to reveal a smidgen of your palm, causing you to tense slightly. you move to hide your hand from his view but your speed is no match against his; the man snatches it into his own, frowning deeply.

he puts aside the twin blades and takes a step towards you. one of his slender, much longer fingers slides under the dark fabric, exposing more and more of your palm to his amaranthine gaze at such a slow pace that it just makes the embarrassment to settle even deeper, simmering in the depth of your stomach and causing shivers to run down the length of your back.

eventually, the glove comes off and his eyes rove over the skin of your palm. it's soft to the touch, hoshina thinks. even so, he can't help but to stare at the lines upon lines of raised skin, ragged and roughly positioned on the surface. your hand is severely scarred.

you try to clench your hand into a fist and pull back but the swordsman seems persistent enough that you just relent, looking away to avoid his eyes. "it's bad, isn't it?" you smile, no mirth whatsoever.

play with knives, and you're bound to get nicked, you'd heard once.

his downturned expression remains. "it is. did you get them while refining my new swords?" he questions quietly into the air between you. your teeth catches on your bottom lip before you let out a low hum, "i always get them when i refine your swords.” the space around you grows tight, and the next thing that happens causes your chest to be even tighter.

hoshina moves closer into your space, your forehead almost knocking against him as he brings your palm to his lips. your mouth dries and feels like sandpaper as the airy, featherlight sensation continues to descend on various spots on your skin a few more times, your pulse quickening as he trails them to your wrist. he's careful with his fangs, but the sudden appearance of his tongue has you gasping slightly. it's wet, and it's warm against your skin. "w-what..." you stammer.

"it's beautiful. you're beautiful, y/n," hoshina murmurs, causing the sharp intake of your breath as the blood in your veins pumps in a frenzy.

he glances up to see your fluttering eyes and reddened cheeks. with those as the only indications he needs, he closes the distance to press his lips onto yours in a shy, tender kiss.

finally, your foolish little heart wants to scream. after months of lingering eye contacts, of shy touches, whispered praises and not-so-platonic gestures. after months of dancing around these intense, dizzying feelings.

the softness of your mouth gives to the pressure of his, dancing unhurriedly against each other as you savor the heat he emits. hoshina holds you close, your imperfectly perfect hand cradled protectively against his chest as his free hand comes up to steady a palm over your warm cheek.

he pulls back slowly to give you space and take a minute but you follow him, eyes still closed and lips chasing after his in an attempt to be connected once more. hoshina breathes out a chuckle and calls out for you, fondness seeping out from each syllable of your name that has you opening your eyes to peer at his own.

and here, as the first rays of sunlight pour through the windows of the library, casting a golden hue across the room and painting him in such an exquisite way it leaves the air rushing out of your lungs. the bell chimes somewhere in your mind, the musical vibrations synchronizing with the love you hold for the man in front of you.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you’ve never thought so beautifully of your hands ever before.

what i would give to be otp with hoshina like i'm his actual gf ... *cries in non fiction

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[shookuna]

// HEATWAVE! // T FUSHIGURO

a/n: first post on tha new blog !!! eeee !!! this is dedicated to the lovely mickey @teddybeartoji <3 ty for being my FIRST OFFICIAL MOOT ! MY DAYONE ! take a lil soft!toji fic pls and thank u 🤲

wc: ~ 1k oops

summary: tired grumpy bf!toji is needy and annoying w/o cuddles. cw: nsf(w) ment, plus some tooth-rotting fluff <3

cuddling with toji was becoming a rare occurrence.

it was mid-july and swelteringly hot outside, even in the wee hours of the night. the a/c in your shared apartment was threatening to give out, and the shitty fan toji sloppily assembled did little to improve matters. so, deviating from your usual routine, you and toji fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed.

toji noticed the distance immediately, cracking one eye open to find you not curled into his side, like usual. the sight of you dead to the world, hair messily splayed across the pillow was enough to make his heart flutter. but even still, a frown tugged at the corner of his lips.

because goddammit, you did not get him used to this "cuddling" shit just to bail on him now.

you and toji met months ago at the dawn of fall, when the days were getting shorter and the nights were growing colder. your relationship was initially a fateful coincidence, a grocery store meet-cute that was as romantic as it was awkward. his series of brazen pick-up lines went right over your head (surely, you assumed, no one would tell you how good you'd look receiving backshots in the fucking frozen food aisle) but you still ended up giving toji your number that day.

and he's never been a religious man, but he was praising every god in the damn sky that you did.

one date was all it took for both of you to be locked in. he was a bad habit, an itch you couldn't help but scratch, irresistible. he was reckless, cocky at best and an asshole at worst, everything you weren't. needless to say, dating toji was against your better judgment. but for him, being with you was the first good decision he's made in a long time.

that's not to say things were perfect, or even easy. being with someone like you was so unfamiliar for someone like toji. loving you came as easy as breathing, but choosing you, choosing to work towards being a better version of himself... that was hard as shit. even small things took time, like physical intimacy. his body count was through the roof, so he had no issue when it came to having sex with you - but affection was a whole different story. it made him feel like he was in someone else's skin, someone weaker, someone who needed to be taken care of. it took til' mid-december, when the temperatures were practically sub-zero and frost crusted the ground, to get toji to warm up (no pun intended) to cuddling.

and now you'd gone and gotten him attached to this shit just to leave him high and dry?!

it didn't matter that your boyfriend was practically a walking furnace, heat radiating off of him in waves when he caged you in his strong arms. temperature be damned, toji thought, you started this, so you had to finish it.

"wake up." his gruff voice sounded out, a stark departure from the blanket of silence the night offered. when you only stirred slightly, he gave you a little shake. "oi, get y'r ass up. i'm talkin t' you."

at that firmer command, you rose your head, a displeased frown taking the place of your previous serene expression. "fushiguro, what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing waking me up at..." you paused, fumbling for your phone on the nightstand and checking the time. "...at three in the damn morning."

"don't gimme that shit. girl bye," toji grumbled, not sparing you so much as an apology for disturbing your sleep. you simply gave him a deadpan stare, making him scoff and roll over to his other side. "'s fine, not like i needed to hold ya to fall asleep anyway." he muttered bitterly into the pillow.

your eyes were already halfway closed when he turned around, but they immediately shot open when you heard his grumblings.

"what did you say? you need to cuddle me to fall asleep?" you perk up, pressing your hands on his shoulders to coax him into turning back around.

"i sure as hell didn't say 'cuddle'," he groused, but still turned around anyways. his voice might have sounded annoyed, but you knew your toji. the flicker of warmth in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

"heh, you said it just now, dummy." you grinned as you snuggled up to toji's chest, earning a flick to your forehead from the man in question. but you were unbothered, simply humming, "thought ya didn't like cuddling."

"y'r makin' assumptions," toji grumbled, the low, gravelly timbre of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "now quiet down so i can sleep."

at that, you scoffed in playful offense. "so you can sleep? you literally just woke me u-" you started, but he silenced effortlessly by pressing his lips against yours in a lazy, heated kiss.

when he pulled away, chest heaving with each hot puff of air, you were warm from way more than just the heat outside.

"go the fuck to sleep before i put you to sleep myself." he growled out, but there was no malice in his words - more of an invitation than a threat.

deciding to resist temptation this time, you settled back into his hold, your back flush against his chest. as you began to fade back into sleep, you heard toji whisper out, "meant what i said, y'know that? can't... can't sleep w' out you now."

the next words out of your mouth were simple, but they were all it took to put him at ease.

"i know, toji."

dawww <33 hope u like this fic everyone (esp mickey mwah mwah mwah) reblogs + comments appreciated !!

© shookuna ! toji header edited by me too tehe

[aroaceleovaldez]

What is the PR disaster in question that made Rick announce TSATS? I wasn’t active in the online fandom at that point

Of course! This was awhile ago so it figures people don't remember it/aren't familiar:

Basically a couple years back (2020) the fandom had some posts circulate discussing the ways different characters in the Riordanverse were written poorly or offensively. There was a masterpost that went around tumblr but the two major points people were particularly focusing on were Piper and Samirah (particularly because Piper had featured prominently again in Trials of Apollo recently and the third MCGA book had further emphasized and discussed Samirah being Muslim, since it was supposed to take place during Ramadan). Basically each had multiple posts breaking down the ways they were depicted incorrectly or offensively. The entire fandom for a little bit was VERY intensely discussing this (and it's around this time the "RR crit" tag got very popularized on tumblr - it did exist before, but suddenly was being used VERY frequently - cause it was that wide-spread - though the discussion took over basically every side of Riordaverse social media on different platforms). People really wanted Rick to respond to these criticisms, so he did!

He made two blog posts, one about Piper and one about Samirah. He has since deleted both so the links are to archived versions. The short version: he essentially tried to justify his poor research and double-down that he hadn't written them offensively, actually, people were just being mean to him. The fandom, of course, reacted poorly to this.

[Further elaborated events under the cut since this got a bit lengthy]

(Fun fact, this all happened within a month or so of the time i posted an open letter on aphobic tropes in the Riordanverse that Rick replied to, and then he immediately followed with announcing that Reyna was intended to be ace-coded [which cause a LOT of fandom debate] before Rick dipped for a couple of weeks, and then came back to post the blog posts in response to Piper and Sam stuff. So I like to jokingly refer to this as "The time I imploded the fandom/drove Rick off of twitter." Twas I that set the house ablaze.)

Rick fully left social media after this and the LT Musical social media manager became Rick's social media manager for the time being.

So this all happened June/July of 2020. Tower of Nero would end up being published in October of 2020 and a few months after that Rick would state that he was done with the series and wouldn't be writing any more series installments involving Percy, and also that he wouldn't be writing a Nico quest following Tower of Nero as it "wasn't his place to" and encouraged the community to write their own versions of Nico's story.

The community continued to circulate the tumblr posts and discuss the topics of Rick's offensive character depictions, and this is also where we see the dramatic shift in how the fandom depicts Piper in fanwork (though in most cases it is admittedly not an improvement 😬) because of all this discussion. This is also around the time when the fandom brought Viria under scrutiny claiming that she was whitewashing Piper as part of the same discussions, through the justification that she was drawing Annabeth as having tan skin (which she does canonically), and if Annabeth has tanner skin then Piper then that's whitewashing Piper? Except they were using completely separate images of not fully rendered Piper art versus Annabeth in dramatic lighting, so it's all very awkward and poor logic, and did actually get kind of racist. A lot of people were calling it "Tannabeth Blackchase" (yeah, i know) or similar and a common sentiment you'd see repeated is "Don't draw Annabeth as having darker skin than Piper, because that's offensive/racist/whitewashing." (Note: it was not phrased "don't draw Piper as having lighter skin than Annabeth" - we also won't get into certain offensive depictions of Native Americans, but I digress). But yeah, the Annabeth stuff in all that did not age well at all.

Anyways, in October of 2021 however Rick would announce that he was co-writing The Sun And The Star - with a lot of heavy emphasis on how Mark Oshiro works as a sensitivity reader, and some false advertising from the official social media that Mark Oshiro was the first time a non-Riordan author would be collaborating on the series (disregarding the ghostwriters completely). One of the big criticisms in the breaking down of issues in Rick's writing was his lack of ever seeking a sensitivity reader, and fans claiming that a sensitivity reader could solve a lot of the problems. This was basically Rick's "look! I totally listened!!!!" (though it did little to actually improve things, based on the book) and in TSATS as well Piper gets a large cameo at the end where the text very directly addresses a lot of points made in criticism of Rick's writing of her.

We also then of course got the CoTG trilogy later, explicitly stated to be for advertising purposes for the show.

So basically, short version: Rick came under scrutiny for a lot of offensive writing within the span of two months, made some bad blog posts doubling down about it, left social media. TOA ends. Rick says he wasn't going to continue the series/write what would become TSATS. Community celebrates the end of of the franchise but also continues to discuss Rick's poor writing and the blog posts at length. Rick suddenly announces TSATS and Mark Oshiro's involvement. Everybody gets distracted from being mad. Show announcement stuff also happens and the discussions peter out.

[yuyusboyfriend]

Cookies & Cream

pairing: nerd!seonghwa x reader

wordcount: 2,7k

content: your tutor helps himself to the cookies in your bag despite you telling him countless times no, without knowing what they really are.

warnings: nsfw, aphrodisiacs, afab reader (use of words cunt, clit, pussy - no mentions of chest or other gendered terms) dom!reader, sub!seonghwa, use of pet names (baby, love), unprotected sex (wrap it ☝️) mentions of food, mentions of sex toys, blow job, cunnilingus (pussy ATE 🗣), edging, some body worship, lmk if there's anything else

Masterlist!˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You had told Seonghwa that on the way to his dorm for a study session, you'd be picking up snacks to get you through the next few dreaded hours. Not that you dreaded spending time with seonghwa, the boy was a pleasure to look at, big brown eyes smiling at you every time you grasped a concept thanks to his help; the warmth of his body engulfing yours when he leant over you to help with a question.

Okay, that wasn't so much helpful as it was distracting, but you liked it nonetheless. You wondered if Seonghwa had any relationship experience, because of the way he was oblivious to almost every move anyone made on him, and would turn fire engine-red when he heard you talk about anything slightly sexual. From your observations, you had concluded that this man has probably never felt the touch of a lover. Still he was a lovely boy, sweet and innocent,,, it kind of did something for you.

“Did you get me turtle chips?” Seonghwa questioned through the front door.

“No 'hello y/n! You made it! Nice to see you'? What did you do with my sweet seonghwa?” you sighed at him, knowing you bought him both the originals, and the churro version. Pretending to not notice the blush on his cheeks, likely caused by the 'my sweet seonghwa' comment, you strolled passed him till you reached your regular spot on the sofa. You pulled the snacks out one by one, watching the joy on Seonghwa's face as you brought all of his favourites to last him until the next session.

“What's in the tub?” seonghwa eyed the plastic tub you had put bag into your bag after pulling the rest of the drinks out.

“Cookies I made, and before you ask, no you can't have any.” you warn.

Seonghwa pouts like his life depends on it, devastated as he adores home-baked goods, especially the ones you make for him. "Why? Who are they for?? Are you seeing someone after me?” he blurts out a little too desperately.

“Why? You jealous, Hwa?” you smirk at him, watching him turn red once again at your words.

“I'm not jealous! I was… just worried because it'll be late by the time you leave, I don't want you wandering around at night…” he gets quieter with each word.

Ah shit, you feel kind of guilty now. You stood up to walk over to the table where always study together, ruffling his hair as you go. “Oh, Hwa, I'm going straight back home after this, don't worry your sweet little head,” you reassure his worrying.

You hadn't realised your tutor had cared so much about you, before this you didn't even know if he considered you friends. Your stomach fluttered at the idea, knowing that seonghwa didn't have many people he considered friends, you could count them all in one hand.

He huffed and pulled out his chair, handing you the test papers you had filled last session, with red pen markings on it showing you where to improve.

“You did really well, if you keep this up you'll be passing with flying colours. I added a couple suggestions on where you can expand on points, but otherwise, you did an amazing job y/n.” He smiles softly at you, proud that your hard work has been paying off.

After an hour of going over some new material from your classes with him, you decide to take a break to stretch and eat the food you brought. Although, you both had already cleared a bag of turtle chips and a bowl of M&Ms in that time, as well as a bottle of your favourite drink.

“Hwa I'm going to the bathroom, ill be back in a minute” you announced to your friend as you walked down the hallway to his spotless bathroom; you always admired how clean seonghwa was, sometimes he'd even help you with yours when you held study sessions there.

Honestly, seonghwa was still hung up on why you didn't let him eat the cookies in your bag, the clear container told him there was way more than you could eat on your own,,,

Surely—you wouldn't notice if one was missing…right?

The boy looked over to the hallway, listening to the sound of you—fighting the shower curtain? He couldn't tell, but you sounded busy. He turned his head back to your bag and reached in, opening the tub and taking one…must've okay three cookies, stuffing them in his mouth and chewing them as fast as he could. They tasted like heaven, he could tell they were a little different from your regular ones, you must've tried a new recipe? Maybe that's why you were so adamant about him not having any? Whatever it was, it was hardly noticeable, the crispy marshmallows taking over his taste buds. He quite literally moaned at the taste, almost annoyed that he nearly missed out on this.

He washed them down with the strawberry milk he kept stocked and put everything back where it was, just as you walked out of the bathroom.

“Alright, what have we got left?” you looked at the boy standing by his chair.

“Uh, we”, Seonghwa went to answer your question but his brain completely blanked. “We were…” he looked at the table to remember where you had left off, but you had already his noticed is off demeanour.

“Hwa, you good?” you tilted your head at the boy, watching him push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“I'm great y/n! Lets, uh, get back to the work?” he avoided looking in your direction, his body feeling funny - fuck, what did you put in those cookies? He thought.

“Hwa. What did you just say? Did you—Did you eat the cookies I told you not to!?” You started raising your voice at him, more worried about him than anything.

“I-I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd notice if a few were gone…” he says under his breath, feeling overwhelmingly heavy. His emotions feeling all too strong to the point where he feels a tear rolling down his cheek before he could stop it. His core felt like hot coals, and his skin more painfully tender than he had ever experienced in his life.

"Sit down, I'm gonna get you some water… I know this is a weird question, but are you seeing anybody currently that I can call?" you already knew the answer, but you didn't want to risk it.

"Wh-what? No, I'm not seeing anybody y/n, why would you need to-" He huffed out a groan as his sweatpants grew tighter and rubbed against his swelling hard on.

"Okay, those cookies you just ate? They're aphrodisiac cookies, I hadn't even had a chance to test them out, I was going to when I got home…" you reluctantly looked at Seonghwa's horrified expression, mixed with sweat forming on his brow. You watched as he fidgeted and pulled at his irritating clothing, his hips rutting and bucking subtly against nothing.

"Hwa you wouldn't happen to have any… sex toys, would you? I can go to the pharmacy and pick some up, It's not far." you already start grabbing his spare set of keys and your jacket to leave, if you went now it would only take 8 minutes-

"In the bottom drawer of my desk, can you help me get to my room?" Oh. So he wasn't as innocent as you thought. He reached out for you, barely able to stand by himself now, his legs feeling like they would crumble under his weight. As you wrapped Seonghwa's arm over your shoulder, pulling him up, he pressed his body against yours, resting his head on your shoulder. God, the scent of you was making him harder, barely restraining himself from biting your neck while you walked him to his bedroom.

He slumped into his bed, not waiting any longer to take his shirt off. He wanted to burn the damn thing now, the material felt torturous on his sensitive nipples. You looked at him in awe, his blushing body making your mouth dry and your hands ache to feel him under them.

"Well, I'm gonna go-"

"No."

You looked at him in confusion, seeing his darkened eyes filled with desire, "What do you mean, no?"

"The least you could do is help me...please?"

That's all you needed to jump into his lap and connect your lips. The kiss was filled with desperation, teeth bumping and tongues swirling together, fighting for dominance in your mouths. You grind against his aching cock, dragging a whine from his sweet voice.

"Sweatpants off, now Hwa" need dripping from each word, you didn't have to tell seonghwa twice. He lifted his hips up on the bed, and he pulled them off with your help. You took a moment to take in his figure. He was gorgeous, I mean, you already knew that, but lying here looking so desperate for your touch gave you goosebumps. You wanted to devour him; and you would do just that. You leant down between his legs to his stiff cock, kitten licking his soaked tip.

"Oh fuck," He squirmed under your tongue, hips trying to buck into your mouth for more. You held his hips down as you took him fully to the back of your throat. He cried out sweet whimpers at the feeling of your mouth around his cock, taken away all too quickly as you came back up for air. He didn't have to suffer for too long, though, as you formed a steady rhythm with your hand.

"I'm gonna cum y/n it feels too good," tears rolled down his reddened cheeks.

You took his cock out of your mouth with a pop, "love, we just started, I can't have you cumming that quickly now, can I?" untying the string of your own sweats, pulling them down with your underwear, exposing your bottom half to seonghwa. His member twitching and leaking at just the sight of you.

"You're my tutor, shouldn't you be helping me, hm? Why don't you let me sit on your face, and you can show me how to make someone cum, baby?"

Hwa had a habit of swiping his tongue against his lip when he was thinking, or doing anything and fuck, he was so sexy about it. It fuelled so many wet dreams and solo sessions, you couldn't wait to feel it in action.

God, he did not disappoint. He swiped his tongue across your soaking cunt, swirling around your swollen clit. You cried out at the sensations of him ravaging you as you stimulated your clit on the tip of his nose, while he fucked your starving hole with his long tongue. It didn't take long for the pressure in the pit of your stomach to build, you barely had time to warn seonghwa before you came on his tongue. He wrapped his hands around your thighs and rocked your hips against his face as you rode out your high.

You admired his fucked out face, your arousal still across his mouth and nose, and leaned over to kiss him again. “Okay, it's only fair you have your turn Hwa, ready baby?”

He could only whine out your name and beg for you to fuck him, he was so ethereal in this state. You couldn't wait to see him cum. As you sank down on his cock, he sat up and gripped your hips so hard it would leave marks he wanted to worship after. Once you bottomed out, you stayed there, letting seonghwa adjust to the feeling. He pulled your shirt over your head and kissed your skin, scattering hickeys across your chest.

"Fuck you're so tight y/n, please move," he keeps his hands on you trying to roll your hips against him.

"And you're such a needy boy, should've listened to me when I told you not to eat those cookies, hm?" you cooed at the boy looking into glossy eyes, before lifting yourself up and slamming back down, ripping the loudest moan yet out of seonghwa. You kept a slow, steady pace, teasing and punishing seonghwa for this very avoidable situation, more so because you worried that this would be the last time on his cock. Fuck he was perfect, he filled you so much better than your exes', hitting all the spots you never knew you needed.

But, He couldn't take much more of the pace and took it into his own hands, flipping you on your back and lifting your legs over his shoulders to put you in a mating press. Once he had you like that you knew you were done for. His hips slammed into your cunt, making your jaw drop, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. The way he pounded you deliciously had you seeing stars, Your groans just short of screams; not so much because you didn't need to but for his neighbours' sake, although you were already expecting to hear about a complaint in the morning anyway.

"fuck, fuck y/n you feel so good," He huffed out a series of thank-yous and sweet nothings into your skin, worshipping your pussy like he was willing to die for it.

He picked up his pace, thrusting just as deep, and you knew you wouldn't be able to last much longer, by the looks on his face he was right there with you. You cried out again when he moved his hand to your clit, circling with his thumb at the same pace as he was dipping into your cunt, your orgasm just on the edge.

"Y/n I'm gonna cum I can't-" was all he could get out before you clenched tightly around his cock, your own orgasm beating his. He pressed his hips down into your cunt, his cum filling you, leaking out from your hole. He rocked in and out once more before finally, and reluctantly, pulling out, watching his cum leak out of you.

Once he had helped you clean up and changed the bedsheets, you started looking for your scattered clothes to go home, you didn't know how to face seonghwa, guilt rushing back through your veins.

"Where you going?" seonghwa looked at you from the bed with sad eyes.

"well you know, I thought- I thought I should…." you mumbled.

"Come back, I'm not done yet…and I'm cold…" seonghwa smiled sweetly, pulling the blanket back for you to get in with him. With a sigh of relief, you picked up one of his hoodies he had left on the back of his desk chair and pulled it over your head before climbing into bed with seonghwa. As soon as you were under the covers his arms wrapped tightly around you, slipping his hands under the hoodie.

"Are you okay with this? I mean, is it okay that I like you as more than a tutee? Seonghwa softly admitted into your neck as he held you closer, rubbing circles into the small of your back. His breathing against your neck gave you goosebumps, you wouldn't ever want to leave his arms if it was an option.

"You like me? Wow Hwa, you're trying to take advantage of your student" you teased, but not for long when he looked at you pouting. Instead of answering with your words, you pressed your lips to his once again, taking your time to enjoy feeling his soft lips and the way that you fitted together like two pieces of a puzzle. You fiddled with the hair that reached his nape pulling a satisfied hum from seonghwa.

You pulled away to look into his pretty eyes, "So, tell me more about the toys in the draw?"

AHHH this took ages ,,,,, I deleted like 1000 words and started over bc I wasn't happy with it but now! It is done!!!!!!!! Who next......

also not proof read so sorry for any mistakes !

[readychilledwine]

Crush

Summary - Deciding to take a yoga class may have been the best decision you've ever made

Warnings - plus size reader, discussions of gym culture and health

A/n - fic 3 for @cassianappreciationweek day 7! We get NSFW from here 💕

🗡Cassian Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

The clang of weights was almost as annoying as the front desk girl staring at you. You hated gyms, hated the judgment that came with walking into one, hated the way people stared at you as if you weren't the ideal person to actually be at a place for improving yourself. 

“Look,” you interrupted her politely, “I am fully aware I am paying more to take this class because I don't have a membership. Considering I'm just trying out this fitness thing, not really interested in spending $100 a month just then also pay $80 for the one class I'm interested in taking.” Her smiled dropped slightly as she just nodded and took your card, finishing your sign up for the yoga course you and 3 of your closest friends were trying. 

You knew she was just trying to meet her numbers, but it was something from gym culture you hated. The constant pushing to join their cult and have access to “everything” instead of just being able to pay for the classes you were interested in was crazy to you. The way gym culture pushed looking a certain way to be considered healthy and attractive also bothered you greatly. 

Health had to do with more than just the numbers on the scales. It had to do with your mind, your soul, and that was what you were here to work. Your mind and soul, and if you happened to gain some muscle strength from yoga, that was just an added bonus. You were all wanting to try yoga as a form of stress relief, relaxation, and self care.  No pressure, no expectations, just fun. 

The four of you were all laughing as you headed into the gym, not even bothering to stop and look at anyone or anything going on. In your mind, it was just a scene you'd watched hundreds of times. Ripped men showing off their muscles, gym girls vlogging their “workouts” in outfits you never would be caught wearing. You were here for you, not for the show someone thought they could put on for you.

Cassian was in a squat rack, watching you through the mirror as he stood with weights resting on his wide shoulders. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Every curve, every strand of hair. You were perfect in his eyes. Rhys followed his glance before grinning, “That's my assistant. Y/n!” 

You glanced up, instantly waving at Rhys and he waved back. He motioned for you to come over, “Hello, darling. What brings you here?”

“Yoga,” you shrugged. “Trying it for stress relief. Mean boss and all!” 

Rhysand laughed at your response, eyes sparkling, “You brought water?” You nodded to him. “Good, that room gets way too hot. I admire the yoga classes, but I can't do it. Oh! By the way,” he motioned to Cassian, “this is my brother, Cassian. You know Az from security.”

And that's when it began.

Two months. Two long months of you and Cassian trading no more than your names, smiles, and slightly flirtatious banter and digs at each other when you would cross paths at the water fountain. 

Today was his day, though. Today he'd finally ask if you wanted him to help you workout, and if you said no, he'd offer dinner instead. Rhys had been forced into telling him every detail of your life. He knew your favorite color, food, how you took coffee. He felt like he knew about you, but now he truly needed to know you.

He needed more than glances that left you blushing. Needed more than you making him go home and spend his night staring at the ceiling in his empty bed wondering if you liked him the way he liked you.

Today was his day. He knew it as he kept glancing at you.

Two months had sucked you into your own version of gym culture, and while your goal was still more the stress relief, you had to admit it was fun watching your booty get even better. You had to also admit deep down that you had other reasons for coming to the gym outside of yoga class, though. That reason was 6’5”, dark curly hair, swirling tribal tattoos, and looking oh so delicious in his black shorts today.

You reminded yourself you were mainly here to focus on you. To get yourself into your head space and earn the snacks waiting for you at home, and zeroed in on the goal of reaching 10,000 stairs by the end of the week.

You were deep into your workout and in your own world when Cassian approached, admiring each jiggle not so secretly, “So y/n.”

“MOTHER F-” you cover your mouth, slapping the emergency stop button and feeling his hand instantly stabilizing you by touching your back. “You scared me!”

“I can tell,” he chuckled back. “I was just wondering if you wanted to try free weights with me today? I spot you? Teach you some stuff?”

I blinked at him, “Really?” He nodded almost boyishly, a playful grin on his face. “I can't spot you, though.”

He motioned over her shoulder to your boss and Azriel, “They exist still. Unfortunately.”

You bit your lip, knowing you'd look so out of place beside the 3 of them. “Cassian, I don't really work out to be-”

“You work out to take care of stress and eat whatever snacks you want. I know. Rhys told me. You'll get tired of cardio soon, so learning another area wouldn't hurt.”

You glared towards Rhys, “Traitor.”

“Is that a yes?”

You sighed and nodded, wiping down the handles of the machine you were on before letting him pull you over to Rhys and Azriel.

One workout became two. Two became twice a week. Twice a week became him coming over and enjoying snacks and a movie. Snacks and movie became dinner with Cassian at an expensive restaurant with Rhys, his wife, Feyre, Azriel, and his possibly girlfriend, Nesta. 

The table was silent as Cassian ordered a fairly unhealthy pasta, ate bread with you, and then shared dessert. It had been so long since they watched him genuinely enjoy food. “Cheat day,” he said casually as Azriel raised a brow at him. “I'm trying to mix y/n's work out to eat what she wants into my lifestyle once a week.” 

“He seems to like our snack and movie nights,” you glanced up at him, to you just admiring the way he smiled. But to the rest of the table, it was clear the gym crush you two shared was becoming much much more. Azriel slipped Rhys money under the table, conceding that he had won the bet. 

“Y/n told me a lot of research shows a cheat day is actually better for you than 7 hard days,” Cassian took another bite of the melted chocolate fudge brownie. “So we have a cheat day now on Sunday. We call it Sinday.”

“We still do a light walk,” you offered as Rhys looked confused. “But more of a “find some wilderness and explore walk than follow this beaten path one.” That dinner turned into many more. It turned into meeting each other's families. To merging friend groups. 

No activity you two tried topped the gym together. Especially after Cassian built and began running his own. His gym was built to cater to those who'd never felt welcomed. One way windows so the people inside could look out, but no one would see in. A mirror room dedicated to progress selfies to stop people from capturing a stranger in their pictures, a strict no bullying policy. He had made a safe haven for those who were serious about their workouts, and those who were just starting, and you could not have been more proud, especially now that you were teaching yoga and hot yoga classes there.

You two posed in the mirror, sweat dripping down him as he flexed and you kissed his cheek with your leg popped up, waiting for the camera to click breaking the no selfies on the main workout floor rule.

“Gross,” Azriel yelled. “Focus on training you two!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cassian shot back. “I'm coming. Enjoy yoga, baby.”

“I will. Snacks tonight?”

“Absolutely,” he answered. “Those little no bake cookie balls would be so good."

"Oh, yeah. We'll pick those up!"

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[tgcg]

fond regards

… OKAY? AND WHO IS SAYING THAT? WHAT THE FUCK?

I -- ACTUALLY, WHO THE HELL JUST TOLD ME THIS INFORMATION? I'M COMPLETELY ALONE RIGHT NOW. ARE YOU SEEING THAT?

ARE YOU WATCHING ME RIGHT NOW? BASK IN THIS OVERWHELMING PRESENCE OF NEGATIVE SPACE. THE ABSOLUTE ABSENCE OF AIR SURROUNDING ME.

THERE IS FUCK ALL. NOT A THING.

NOT EVEN SOME KIND OF SEATING APPARATUS FOR ME TO STAGE THIS INTERVENTION FOR YOU ON. I GUESS I'LL HAVE TO "RAW DOG" IT OR WHATEVER THE FUCK DAVE WOULD DESCRIBE THIS AS.

I -- I MEAN… FIRST OF ALL. SHIT.

THANKS, I GUESS… FOR DOING THAT?

LOVING ME.

WHATEVER YOUR VERSION OF "LOVE" IS.

OKAY, ENOUGH BULLSHIT.

… LOOK. I DON'T KNOW WHO IN WHAT UNIVERSE IS RECEIVING THIS MESSAGE. NOR THROUGH WHAT KIND OF TENTH-DIMENSIONAL IMAGE PROCESSING PLATFORM OR WHATEVER-THE-SHIT DEVICE IT IS BEING DELIVERED.

AND FRANKLY I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF A FUCKING WEEK ALREADY TO BE DEALING WITH SOME POSSIBLY HIGHER LEVEL OF BEING THAT JUST "LOVES ME".

I WAS FLYING WAY PAST THE THRESHOLD FOR BEING ABLE TO GIVE A FUCK ABOUT EXISTENTIALISM BY TUESDAY AT THE LATEST.

SO SURE, THIS MIGHT AS WELL HAPPEN.

BUT IF YOU'RE STILL LISTENING TO ME RIGHT NOW: I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW THIS IS WHAT YOU'D CALL A "PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIP", ASSUMING YOUR UNIVERSE HAS ANY CAPACITY FOR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS BEYOND BASELESS QUOTE-ENQUOTE "LOVE" OF THOROUGHLY UNLOVABLE INDIVIDUALS. HONESTLY, NOT A GOOD SIGN THAT YOU CHOSE ME OF ALL PEOPLE TO HEAR THIS, BY THE WAY! THIS IS NOT A GREAT LOOK FOR YOUR SUPPOSED NTH-DIMENSIONAL GODLINESS!

THE FIRST THING A TROLL WOULD FEEL TOWARDS YOU RIGHT NOW IS PITY. I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT.

AND THERE'S NOTHING PARASOCIAL ABOUT THAT WHATSOEVER, BECAUSE APPARENTLY WE'RE NOW MUTUALLY AWARE OF EACH OTHER.

I LEARNED ALL ABOUT PARASOCIAL BULLSHIT FROM ROSE WHEN I WAS TELLING HER ABOUT TROLL WILL SMITH, SO I'VE BEGRUDGINGLY BECOME KIND OF A MASTER ON THE TOPIC.

WAIT, FUCK. DOES THAT MEAN YOU AREN'T BEING PARASOCIAL TOWARDS ME ANYMORE? HOW MUCH DO I HAVE TO TALK TO YOU BEFORE IT STARTS JUST BEING A REGULAR RELATIONSHIP? WHAT ARE THE BOUNDARIES HERE.

DON'T GET THE WRONG IDEA BY THE WAY. I DON'T HAVE A PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIP WITH TROLL WILL SMITH OR ANYTHING. THAT WAS JUST A CLASSIC LALONDE "MASSIVE ILLOGICAL REACH IN CONJECTURE THAT IS COMPLETELY OFF-BASE AND GENERALLY ONLY DONE TO MAKE FUN OF YOU IN A SNIDE AND INSUFFERABLE WAY, INEVITABLY LEADING INTO AN HOUR-LONG DIATRIBE ON PSYCHOSOCIAL DEVELOPMENT DESIGNED SPECIFICALLY TO FUCK WITH YOU".

SHE JUST DOESN'T GET IT. HE'S COOL AS FUCK AND THAT'S ALL THERE IS TO IT! THE AMOUNT OF BULLSHIT THE DERSE HUMANS CAN EXTRAPOLATE FROM THE SIMPLEST OF SPONGEDEAD NOTIONS IS MIND-BOGGLING TO ME. IT'S AS INCREDIBLE AS IT IS MONUMENTALLY FUCKING AGGRAVATING.

ANYWAYS, SINCE WE'RE APPARENTLY IN THE REALM OF SHARING COMPLETELY UNFOUNDED SENTIMENTS WITH PEOPLE WHO POSSIBLY DON'T EVEN EXIST, I HAVE SOME ADVICE FOR YOU: IMPROVE YOUR STANDARDS. MAYBE LOOKING INSIDE YOUR OWN DIMENSION WOULD BE A GOOD START. AND I'D SUGGEST SOMEONE WHO DOESN'T WASTE HIS TIME TALKING TO THIN FUCKING AIR IN VAST WHITE EXPANSES LIKE THIS ONE.

JUST A THOUGHT.

JEGUS, TALKING TO NOTHING IS HARD. I FEEL LIKE I'M JUST SPUTTERING COMPLETE INANE GARBAGE IN CIRCLES LIKE A DELIRIOUS WRIGGLER HERE. IS THIS HOW DAVE FEELS ALL THE TIME? THIS IS HORRIBLE.

WHERE'S THE EXIT?

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Forcing Google to spin off Chrome (and Android?)

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/19/breaking-up-is-hard-to-do/#shiny-and-chrome

Last August, a federal judge convicted Google of being "a monopolist" and acting "as one to maintain its monopoly." The judge concluded that key to Google's monopoly was the vast troves of data it collects and analyzes and asked the parties to come up with remedies to address this.

Many trustbusters and Google competitors read this and concluded that Google should be forced to share its click and quer y data. The technical term for this is "apocalyptically stupid." Releasing Google's click and query data into the wild is a privacy Chernobyl in the waiting. The secrets that we whisper to search engines have the power to destroy us a thousand times over.

Largely theoretical answers like "differential privacy" are promising, but remain theoretical at scale. The first large-scale live-fire exercise for these should not be something as high-stakes as Google's click and query data. If anything, we should delete that data:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/07/revealed-preferences/#extinguish-v-improve

The last thing we want to do is use antitrust to democratize surveillance so that everyone can spy as efficiently as Google does. In theory, we could sanitize the click and query data by limiting sharing to queries that were made by multiple, independent users (say, only sharing queries that at least 30 users have made), but it's unlikely that this will do much to improve the performance of rival firms' search engines.

Google only retains 18 months' worth of click and query data, thus once we cut off its capacity to collect more data, whatever advantage it has from surveillance will begin to decay immediately and fall to zero in 18 months.

(However: the 18 months figure is deceptive, and deliberately so. Google may only retain your queries for 18 months, but it is silent on how long it retains the inferences from those queries. It may discard your "how do I get an abortion in my red state" query after a year and a half, but indefinitely retain the "sought an illegal abortion" label it added to your profile. The US desperately needs a federal consumer privacy law!)

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy

And just to be clear, there's other Google data that would be very useful to rival search engines, like Google's search index – the trove of pages from the internet. Google already licenses this out, and search engines like Kagi use it to produce substantially superior search results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

The DOJ has just filed its proposal for a remedy, and it's a doozy: forcing Google to sell off Chrome, on the basis that both of these are the source of much of Google's data, and no rival search engine is likely to also have a widely used browser:

https://9to5google.com/2024/11/18/us-doj-google-sell-chrome/

This represents something of a compromise position: the DOJ had initially signalled that it would also demand a selloff of Android, and that's been dropped. I think there's a good case for forcing the sale of Android as a source of data, too.

In competition theory, these selloffs are referred to as "structural separation" – when a company that provides infrastructure to other firms is prohibited from competing with those firms:

https://locusmag.com/2022/03/cory-doctorow-vertically-challenged/

For example, it used to be that banks were prohibited from competing with the companies they loaned money to. After all, if you borrow money from Chase to open a pizzeria, and then Chase opens a pizzeria of its own across the street, you can see how your business would be doomed. You have to make interest payments to Chase, and your rival doesn't, and if Chase wants to, it can subsidize that rival so it can sell pizzas below cost until you're out of business.

Likewise, rail companies were banned from owning freight companies, because otherwise they would destroy the businesses of every freight company that shipped on the railroad.

In theory, you could create fair play rules that required the bank or the railroad to play nice with the business customers that used their platforms, but in practice, there are so many ways of cheating that this would be unenforceable.

This principle is well established in all other areas of business, and we recoil in horror when it is violated. You wouldn't hire a lawyer who was also representing the person who's suing you. Judges (with the abominable exception of Supreme Court justices!) are required to recuse themselves when they have a personal connection with either of the parties in a case they preside over.

One of the weirdest sights of the new Gilded Age is when lawyers for monopoly companies argue that they can play fair with their customers despite their conflicts of interest. Think of Google or Meta, with their ad-tech duopoly. These are companies that purport to represent sellers of ads and buyers of ads in marketplaces they own and control, and where they compete with sellers and/or buyers. These companies suck up 51% of the revenue generated by advertising, while historically, the share taken by ad intermediaries was more like 15%!

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/25/structural-separation/#america-act

Imagine if you and your partner discovered that the same lawyer was representing both of you in the divorce, while also serving as the judge, and trying to match with both of you on Tinder. Now imagine that when the divorce terms were finalized, lawyer got your family home.

No Google lawyer would agree to argue on the company's behalf in a case where the judge was employed by the party that's suing them, but they will blithely argue that the reason they're getting 51% of the ad-rake is that they're providing 51% of the value.

Structural separation – like judicial recusal – comprehensively and unarguably resolves all the perceptions and realities of conflict between parties. The fact that platform owners compete with platform users is the source of bottomless corruption, from Google to Amazon:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

In other words, I think the DOJ is onto something here. That said, the devil is – as always – in the details. If Google is forced to sell off Chrome, rather than standing it up as its own competing business, things could go very wrong indeed.

Any company that buys Chrome will know that it only has a certain number of years before Google will be permitted to spin up a new browser, and will be incentivized to extract as much value from Chrome over that short period. So a selloff could make Chrome exponentially worse than Google, which, whatever other failings it has, is oriented towards long-term dominance, not a quick buck.

But if Google is forced to spin Chrome out as a standalone business, the incentives change. Anyone who buys Chrome will have to run it as a functional business that is designed to survive a future Google competitor – they won't have another business they can fall back on if Google bounces back in five years.

There's a good history of this in antitrust breakups: both Standard Oil and AT&T were forced to spin out, rather than sell off, parts of their empire, and those businesses stood alone and provided competitive pressure. That is, until we stopped enforcing antitrust law and allowed them to start merging again – womp womp.

This raises another question: does any of this matter, given this month's election results? Will Trump's DoJ follow through on whatever priorities the current DoJ sets? That's an open question, but – unlike so many other questions about the coming Trump regime – the answer here isn't necessarily a nightmare.

After all, the Google antitrust case started under Trump, and Trump's pick for Attorney General, the credibly accused sexual predator Matt Gaetz, is a "Khanservative" who breaks with his fellow Trumpians in professing great admiration for Biden's FTC chief Lina Khan, and her project of breaking up corporate monopolies:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/trump-nominates-khanservative-matt

What's more, Trump is a landing strip for a stroke or coronary, which would make JD Vance president – and Vance has also expressed his approval of Khan's work.

Google bosses seem to be betting on Trump's "transactional" (that is, corrupt) style of governance, and his willingness to overrule his own appointees to protect the interests of anyone who flatters or bribes him sufficiently, or convinces the hosts of Fox and Friends to speak on their behalf:

https://www.mediamatters.org/donald-trump/comprehensive-review-revolving-door-between-fox-and-second-trump-administration

That would explain why Google capo Sundar Pichai ordered his employees not to speak out against Trump:

https://www.businessinsider.com/google-employees-memes-poke-fun-company-rules-political-discussion-2024-11

And why he followed up by publicly osculating Trump's sphincter:

https://twitter.com/sundarpichai/status/1854207788290850888

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[beepboopkek]

— Practice makes perfect (F!Reader)

Including: Dr.Ratio x AFAB!Reader amab version has been posted! cw: !! NSFW !!, afab!reader, established relationship, pwp but barely, you call him veritas, cl1t slapp1ng, 0rga$m d3n1al, c0ckwarm1ng, dr is kinda mean, light degradation , kind of left at a cliffhanger?? idk, a little short, reader is doing math w/c: 1.2k a/n: HELLO IM BACK WITH ANOTHER DRABBLE first time writing for someone other than Jing Yuan so sorry if its not that good ue ue ue im still learning </3 anywyas i somehow got to a 100 followers which is both exciting and concerning but yeag hope u guys like this :3 &lt;3 NSFW BELOW THE CUT

“This simply won't do.”

Your boyfriend huffed in annoyance as your shaking hands continued to—(or well, at least tried to)— do the calculations for the question that shined brightly on the tablet resting on the table.

You couldn't decide whether to be mad at him or yourself for the predicament you were in currently.

— Sat prettily on his lap, your feet barely touching the ground and his cock snugly kept to the hilt within the confines of your pussy.

You exhaled shakily, your body shuddering as his fingers that were previously stimulating your clit were now simply resting atop it.

“Another mistake. How disappointing, I excused the last one but, you really are testing my limits now.”

His head was over your shoulder as he tutted and eyed the screen, watching every move you made and deducing what was correct and what was not.

“Maybe, if you'd let me focus I could—” 

– and suddenly, he raised his hand and landed a quick slap right on your clit.

Your body jerked in response as your words got cut off with a gasp.

The doctor's hand came back to rest on your clit, tapping it gently to soothe the pain from the slap. His other hand that was wrapped around your waist gripped you tightly as he leaned forward, pushing his cock at a deeper angle.

“If I hear another one of your remarks, things won't end well for you. Now, focus.”

You exhaled loudly in frustration as you forced your attention back onto the question, lifting the pen and continuing your calculations.

The both of you had been together for several years now, graduating from The University of Veritas Prime together— Your intellect was almost on par with his.

However, what you were doing now, though, was quite… questionable.

See, unlike him, you preferred the simpler life of teaching at a university. Getting into a guild or something of that sort had never really interested you. But, your boyfriend being… Well, The Veritas Ratio— he had his ways of convincing you to at least work on your mathematical skills to improve further the chances of you getting invited to the Intelligentsia Guild from the IPC.

So, he offered a simple solution.

Tutoring. One-on-one, of course.

… Which snapped you back to the current situation- you were dripping onto the chair on which the two of you were seated. The hard planes of his torso snug against your back.

“Another mistake.” His voice was low in your ear and you could almost feel the annoyance dripping from those words alone.

Fuck. You hadn't even registered what you were writing, your brain growing increasingly fuzzy with the way his cock pressed into all your sensitive spots.

He placed another slap on your clit, your body jerking in response as your pussy clenched around his cock.

“Start counting, Let's see how long you can keep up, hm?” 

“V—Veritas, do I really have to do t—”

Your body jerked as he landed another slap to your already tender clit.

“Address me properly.”

“Fuck— I'm sorry–”

You swallowed down your complaints, knowing it would result in only more punishment if you continued.

“That— that was three.”

Veritas smiled against your shoulder before pressing your hips into his and moving you just a little bit… but nowhere near enough. He kissed the shell of your heated ear,

“That's my girl, I knew you could do it.”

You moaned lightly as he drew circles on your frayed clit before giving it a gentle pinch and then taking away the stimulation altogether— Your heated body simmering down into a somewhat uncomfortable yet pleasurable state.

“Come on now, let's continue. You still have the whole test left.” 

You nodded shakily as you lifted the long-forgotten pen and started writing on the tablet.

This was the fourteenth question, sixteen more to go.

You managed to distract yourself enough to finish the question, The only sounds in the room were the quick taps from your pen and the occasional embarrassingly loud squelching noise from you that came as a result of Veritas moving to get more comfortable. As you finished, you waited with bated breath in hopes that he would say something.

“Is it—is it correct?”

Your boyfriend smiled before uttering a yes and leaning his head forward to kiss your cheek gently.

“Not bad… five points. So, you can be good for me, hm?”

Before you could respond, he spoke up again, “Complete the fifteenth question correctly and I'll consider letting you have an orgasm. How does that sound?”

“Please—”

A small pinch to your clit.

“It was a rhetorical question. Continue.”

You nodded numbly as you willed every fiber in your brain to focus on the question. 

Just as you were about to finish the last bit of the question you felt your boyfriend slowly beginning to massage your clit again, his lips attaching to your shoulder and neck— biting, kissing and licking as he pleased.

“Veritas— Aeons– Let me finish this, please.”

You realised your mistake a second too late, though.

Another slap, accompanied by a loud gasp escaped your mouth as you dropped the pen onto the table, your feet flexing as you processed the sudden mix of sensations that went through you.

“Count.”

Yep, you've just about crossed his limit.

“Four.” 

You steadied your breathing again.

A few beats of silence pass by and you finally finish the fifteenth question. Your breathing picked up again as you awaited Veritas’ next move.

“Half an hour. That's how long you took to finish fifteen simple arithmetic questions.”

He did not sound happy.

Before you could defend yourself, He grabbed you by the waist and stood up, setting your upper body on the table as the digital tablet dissipated.

Your feet were off the ground at this angle, meaning that his strength was the only thing keeping you steady on the table.

Veritas pushed himself deeper inside you as you arched your back, draping his larger frame over yours as he leaned down to talk right next to your ear.

“What would people think, hm? An esteemed professor with seven doctoral degrees reduced to a slobbering mess because of me?”

You only whined in response, your brain had long turned into mush— unable to comprehend anything but him. 

Neither you nor Veritas knew how you held on that long.

“Please— Sir– I did what you asked me to do.”

“I asked you to do 30 questions within half an hour. You managed only half of that.”

His voice was neither stern nor soft— just somewhere in between that you could only describe as– Veritas.

“I suppose, though, I did promise you that I'd consider granting you relief.”

Your face lit up at the thought of finally, finally getting your orgasm— The one that you had been denied for the past thirty minutes.

“Oh, such an adorable expression,”

He gathered both your hands and pinned them on your lower back, gripping them with one of his own. Veritas drew his hips back and thrust back in, moving you and the table ahead.

You moaned at the burst of pleasure, finally— “Tell me the answer to number sixteen.” Shallow thrusts that were just shy of where you were most sensitive. Asshole.You took deep breaths. “I don’t— fuck- know the question—” The digital tablet reappeared in front of you, the question glaring back at you as you whined pathetically. You felt the hand on your hip moving down to squeeze the swell of your ass. It was a warning.

Veritas planted his free hand into your hair and tugs, pulling your head back in a firm grip. “Answer me.”… Maybe accepting his offer wasn’t a good idea.

[phyrestartr]

Man of Worship (P.1) | Zagreus x M!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

w/c: 2.3k #NSFW themes, demigod reader, eventual polyamory, traumatic past, healing from trauma, mentions of dub-con, mentions of suicide, hurt/comfort, boys being boys, toxic parents, olympic gods doing typical olympic god bs

Note: SO this is basically a rework of Rhubarb, even though I still want to pursue the rest of Rhubarb with that particular reader character, HOWEVER I generally make two or three versions of the same story while I'm brainstorming, and I ended up digging into more Greek mythos while looking for inspo and BOOM.

ANYWAY I didn't tag for this since it's a new fandom I'm writing for, but if you'd like to be tagged, pls feel free to leave a comment!! I'll update my tag form thing in a moment too :D I hope this is a fun read!!

--

1. A Gardener?

He noticed first the flutter of feathered wings. It was an odd thing to hear in the underworld, and even odder still to hear it come from the outer gardens–the place poor, pitiful Zagreus was barred from. 

Father won't tell me anything of this. And that was true--Hades was anything but straightforward and honest with his son. So, to the real parent of the house was where the prince went.

“Erm, Nyx?” Zagreus asked, shooting glances back at the iron gates as he met his mother-figure. “I've got a question for you, if you don't mind.”

“I do not mind. I will do my best to answer, my child.” She watched him with eased attention, then followed his gaze to the forbidden outdoors. “Is something the matter?” 

“No–well, maybe? Not sure, but. Well.” Zagreus rubbed the back of his neck. “Just–are there birds out in the garden?” 

Nyx blinked. “Birds?” 

“Yes. I keep hearing something fluttering around every now and then, and I swear I've seen something moving around in the garden. You know, the one I'm not allowed to enter?” 

“Ah.” The goddess nodded. “Of course. There is a new servant of the house, one who was chosen to tend to the gardens.”  

“Really.” Zagreus planted his hands on his hips and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, gaze returning to the forbidden area. “Well, that's the first I've heard of it.” 

“He does not linger long; he arrives with the sun, and leaves only when the work is done,” Nyx explained. “He is a diligent helper of the House. Your father is quite pleased, I've noticed.” 

“Well, I've never thought that Father could be pleased in any regards.” Zagreus’ mismatched gaze flickered back to Nyx. “But why now? The garden's never needed a tender before.”

“A flower wilted,” Nyx sighed, looking aside. “And your father has grown concerned.”

“Hah. Concerned for the plants? Good to know he can still give a damn about something,” Zagreus bit, sending a scalding glare to the throne. “Guess that's why he locked it up, kept it from me.”

Night smiled, sympathetic. “You do have a reputation.”

“One that I must uphold,” he agreed, heart light and spirit lifted higher. “Thank you, Nyx. I should get back to ransacking my father's domain.”

Nyx nodded sagely and reached a hand up, fixing the tilt of Zagreus’ burning laurel. “I would hope for nothing less, my child.” 

–

“You play music?” 

Your voice startled Zagreus, sending a Zeus-like jolt through him and holding him in place with a fit of numbing static. Thankfully, however, twas not the true bite of the sky king, and Zagreus had the luxury to back out of his room a few paces. 

“You heard?” He asked, face somehow both paling and burning in tandem.

You, whilst leaning against the iron gate, nodded. “‘N if I did?”

“Oh.” Zagreus rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “That's unfortunate. Sorry for the bother.”

“Don't misunderstand me, god.” Your spectral eyes bore into him with easy confidence. Zagreus quite liked that look. “You played much like a dying pigeon at first, I'll admit, but you've improved.” 

Zagreus laughed and approached you. Your dry informality pricked him with intrigue. “Well, now I know you're lying.”

“Lies are useless for those who need the truth.” Your words came so bold, the prince had no choice but to believe you. “I can hear it. The notes–they come easier to you. Sweeter, even. Like figs ripe on the tree.” 

“Figs?” Zagreus tilted his head much like Cerberus might. “Huh. Can't say I've had one of those.” 

“Really? Well, then I shall see to it that you wonder no longer, god.” You leaned away, nearly out of sight of the iron-barred gateway, and jostled through the leaves of a bush or tree of sorts before the sharp snap of something announced your return. 

You stuck your arm through a gap in the fence, one where your glowing skin was threatened by a cascade of decorative thorns, but you didn't much care. That care, instead, found itself funneled into the deliverance of a ripe fig to the prince of the underworld, it seemed. 

Zagreus stared for a moment. He wasn't used to receiving gifts unless he bestowed one upon another, first. To him, this almost felt like–could it be--

“If you don't take it in the next three seconds, I'm going to eat it myself and not hand you another,” you groused.

“Hah.” He snatched the fruit from your hand. “You wouldn't dare.” 

“I've dared much worse, god, believe me.” You withdrew your hand and drummed your palms against the iron. “Well, enjoy. And be sure to clean your hands before touching that lyre again.” You looked him over, face placid as it'd been for his entire short history knowing you–but your eyes, the strange things, they hinted at hidden curiosities. “I'll be listening.” 

–

“Say, Meg, do you know much about the new House attendant?” Zagreus asked, flourishing his Stygian blade as he walked towards the Fury, prepared to fight after a quick chat.

Megaera's eyes narrowed. “You're talking about the flirt.”

“The flirt?” Zagreus rested his sword down, digging its diamond tip into the cracked ground. “Is that really what he's known for? Flirting? He doesn't seem like the type.”

A heavy sigh left Meg. “Ask Than. He might be more willing to endure your rambling and answer questions. I am not.” 

“You know, I think we really need to work on your patience.” Still, he flicked up his blade of the underworld, and lunged first. 

–

As the Fates would have it, Thanatos was already at the House. Even more fateful, still, was where he stood–not by the river Styx, no, but by the garden’s gate for a change. Death's presence on that side of the house seemed…odd, despite his infrequent visits to the lounge. Never before did he show interest in a coworker, neither, not unless it was his twin who needed some firm and stringent guidance. 

“Admiring the flowers?” Zagreus asked, and Death flinched. 

“No, I–” He sighed, and spared a look over his shoulder. “What do you want, Zagreus?” 

The shorter one shrugged, and stood beside his age-old friend. “Came to find you. Is that so odd?” 

“If you're going to shove more nectar in my hands, then you can forget it.” Thanatos looked away again and scowled beyond iron bars. “You've made your bed.”

Zagreus stifled a sigh, and rubbed the back of his neck. “I–well–in all honesty, I had a question, one that I'd hoped you could answer.”

“Then ask.”

“Right to the point then.” Zagreus cleared his throat and shuffled closer to Death. “Who exactly is the new gardener? Meg said you might know.” 

Thanatos graced him with a wide-eyed stare. “I thought you'd know by now.”

Zagreus shrugged. “I wouldn't be asking if I knew.” 

“He is–” Death paused, his jaw tightening, tendons threatening to snap. “Why do you want to know?”

Zagreus convinced himself not to pry. “We haven't had a new servant of the House in, well, eternities. Father wouldn't allow just anyone in here.” 

“Sure, but don't you think you should ask him yourself?”

“It's hard to catch him. He's quite flighty, as Fate would have it. Must be the wings.” 

“Must be.” Zagreus swore he heard the inkling of a smile on those words. “Well, I don't think it's fair for me to spoil the introduction. But I will say this–he was a servant of the House in life, and now continues on in death.” 

“Really?” Zagreus couldn't quite wrap his head around it. How could someone be devoted to the house before even arriving?

“Yes. He made my job easier, in some regards. Assisted, at the very least,” Death said.

“Huh.” Zagreus crossed his arms and scuffed his sole against time-worn stone. “Guess that explains that. I don't suppose you'd be willing to go into elaborate detail regarding what exactly our avian gardener did in life to earn yours and Father's favour? Or, even just his name?” 

“No.” A luminous wash of turquoise licked off Death's shoulders, his scythe. “Ask him yourself. I've work to do.”

And with the toll of a bell, he was gone. 

–

It took a while to catch you again. Apparently, you kept to a strict, self-imposed schedule that Zagreus couldn't even begin to understand despite its simplicity. Nyx told him you arrived come morning, at the very least. That may have been helpful, if Zagreus could tell the damn time in the underworld. 

So, he resorted to guessing; if he could not find you through the convenience of your daily routine, he'd swing by whenever he died. He was bound to run into you at some point. 

And he did. It was when he wandered to the lounge, eager to deliver a wealth of fish to the head chef, that he caught the ghostly sound of feathers against leaves.

Zagreus backed out of the lounge in time to see your curious glance. A rush pulsed through him–finally, finally, he'd get his chance to interrogate you.

“Hey!” He called. 

“Hey,” You called back. 

“Just--don’t go anywhere. I need to hand over some river denizens and then I need to speak with you,” Zagreus rambled off as quickly as he could. 

Your brows furrowed, but you offered a shallow nod. “I'll wait up.”

With that, Zagreus sped by the gossiping Meg and Dusa and a gaggle of other patrons to all but throw his catch to the head chef. It was a good haul today. Hopefully that meant–ah ha. 

Zagreus rolled the bottle of nectar over in his hands. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he sang, and ran off, tucking the gift away before approaching the iron bars.

You were toiling away, a little farther in the garden than before, but not too far to escape the prince's presence. It gave him a chance to take a good look at you: simple black chiton on a well-muscled frame, wings full of bronze feathers, wild hair tied back into the smallest of ponytails. You looked quite ordinary, save for the wings. 

But your eyes had been strange: they glowed. Not with the morose cold of Ixion, but with the exact opposite. Warm. Bronze. Sunlit, maybe. He'd never known sunlight, but you must have kept a drop of it in your very soul.

“So?” You said as you meandered back to him. You walked with unbothered confidence, much different to Zagreus’ sprightly impatience. “What important matters must we discuss?”

“Your name, first of all,” the prince requested. “I am Zagreus, son of Hades and--"

“Prince of the underworld,” you added. “Well, I figured you were him. Good to have a proper introduction, I suppose.” You took a breath. “As for me, you'll call me (Name).” 

Zagreus repeated the name. It held a fullness in his mouth, something sweet and foreign, too much like the fig you'd offered him not too long ago. Maybe you were the minor god of figs (wouldn't that be something?).

“Pleased to meet you, then. I trust the garden will be well-kept in your capable hands. And wings,” Zag said. “Oh! And, ah, here--a token of thanks for your hard work.”

Your brows raised and Zagreus’ chest filled with hope; for once, your blank mask changed, and you looked less like a gorgon-born statue and more like a human. Somehow, it gave him relief.

But your expression crumpled into furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. “Nectar?” You wondered aloud. 

Zagreus nodded and slipped the bottle best he could through the gap. “Yes, I…I hope you will take it, if it pleases you.”

You examined the bottle as it slipped into your hand and leaned a shoulder up against the gate. “Odd. Why is it in the underworld?”

The tension left Zagreus’ muscles as you accepted the gift. “Not a clue. Maybe Olympus ferries some down here from time to time to try and liven things up.”

“Hah.” The mock laughter almost sounded genuine. “Dionysus would, from what I've heard of him.” You held the bottle up, watching the light reflect shards of gold and ghostly greens. “He's not so bad, that god of wine.” 

“You've met him?” Zagreus wondered.

“No,” you admitted. Your light-filled eyes found him again. “But I've met gods, when I once lived. No man should have to meet them. They bring misfortune, even the supposed good ones.” 

The prince took a sure step forward, and your eyes steeled. “Well, you're right about Dionysus,” he assured instead of scorned. “He's good. I'm sure he's had his moments, still. But I get on with him well.” I'm sure you would, too, he decided against saying; the more he took in your features, the more he realized the god's work carved into you, painting you unnatural colours and robbing you of something only humans could have. He didn't think you'd much enjoy being forced into a hypothetical with them. 

“Then I shall take your word for it,” you said. “And I will pretend this bottle comes from Dionysus, to make it more palatable.”

“Well, whatever pleases you.” Zagreus smiled and leaned against the wall by the gate. “But, if I may ask, which gods have you–”

“Boy,” Hades’ voice thundered, echoing down the hall. “Do not disturb the rest of the House and distract them from their duties. Unlike you, they do not wish to disappoint.” 

Zagreus clicked his tongue and looked over his shoulder. “Yes, of course, Father. I'll get right to ignoring every blasted person in this damn House. Perhaps I'll consider a life of solitude while I'm at it!” 

“Do not test me further, boy.”

Zagreus rolled his eyes, but gave in, finding your (gentler?) eyes once again. “Well. I'd more than happily argue with my father all day–or night–about this, but I wouldn't want you to bear the punishment.” 

You nodded a little and glanced from the prince back down to the bottle. “I appreciate this, princeling.”

“It's nothing, really.” Though Zagreus did indeed beam with delight. “Well, then I'll leave you to your work.”

“Be sure to come back. I need to return the favour,” you said as you turned. “Until then, princeling.”

[restinslices]

How’d you think the Lin Kuei boys show their affection to their partner?

It’s kinda short but irl I’m actually so bad at affection, it’s stupid. They all have around 300 words👍🏾

Bi-Han

I feel like as the Grandmaster and having so many responsibilities, he'd appreciate someone who does things for him. So his way of showing affection is to do the same for them 

Handling chores, leaving you bowls of fruit, cooking for when you return, stuff like that. 

I don't think he's the type to say “I love you much” either. Words are cheap. Actions show you how much someone truly cares 

If you're a fighter, he'd also show affection by tending to you if you're harmed and checking in from time to time 

Also sparring. This may not seem like something affectionate but in his mind, him sparring with you shows he cares about you enough to try and sharpen your skills. It means he cares about your safety. 

Affection to him can be somewhat uncomfortable, so don't expect him to do huge grand gestures. His version of love is more quiet and private. Honestly you wouldn't be wrong if you felt a bit neglected 

Neglecting you wouldn't be on purpose though. He just feels that certain things are unnecessary. Constantly touching, being near each other, whispering sweet things, and all that other type of shit just isn't his vibe. It's unnecessary and it seems like it's more for showing other people you love your partner than actually loving them (his thoughts. I know y'all like to tussle)

You'd have to ask him to do those things if you're into it. Doesn't mean he'll be good at it though 

Since he's such a combat heavy, “I don't want peace, I want PROBLEMS ALWAYS” type of guy I can see him also showing affection by giving you things to improve your combat 

He'd give you weapons that he knows you specialize in. Like, if you're someone who uses a spear, he'd go out of his way to get you a new one. 

His version of affection is subtle but it's definitely there. 

Kuai Liang 

Kuai Liang is definitely more comfortable when it comes to affection 

I can see him also giving you gifts for combat. Bi-Han gives you things you specialize in, but Kuai Liang is the type to give some of his weapons 

Kuai Liang is gone a lot so I think he'd show affection by giving you things that belong to him so you'll have something to remember him, and you can give him something of yours 

I can see him giving gifts in general to make up for his absence in your relationship. He wouldn't just throw gifts at you though. It'd be gifts he specifically knows you'd enjoy 

Kuai Liang pays lots of attention to you so anything he gives you would be perfect. You wouldn't have to worry about having to fake being happy because he pays too much attention to give you smth shitty 

Memorizes very small details about you too. Does this count as affection? Depends on who you ask. 

He's also more comfortable with being physical so I can see him touching you a lot. No I don't mean sexually. I'd never write such a thing and y'all have no proof 🙄

In all seriousness, I think he enjoys casual physical touch. The type to randomly put a hand on your shoulder or place his hand on your thigh 

Compliments you a lot also. Lots of skill based compliments 

Compliments you on your fighting or hobbies you're improving in. 

I feel like his version of affection is very stereotypical, ya know? The hand holding, the walking alone, the various compliments, shit people think of when they think of a relationship 

I do however think he'd prefer some stuff to be in private. Everyone doesn't need to see you two do everything if that makes sense 

You'd feel very loved with him though 

He really gives me the vibes of a stereotypical loving husband. He's grown. Life is short. Why wouldn't he show you how much he cares?

Tomas Vrbada 

I think his version of affection would be lots and lots of quality time

He legit wants to do everything with you. Not in a toxic and obsessive way. He just enjoys your company 

He'd probably worry he's being annoying but when he's reassured that it's ok, he's on your heels 

I think he'd enjoy making things with you. Could be jewelry. Could be cooking. Could be baking. As long as it's something together and you can share it, he enjoys it 

He's probably fine with public affection too as long as it's not extremely intense. Don't try to stick your tongue down his throat in public. Have some decorum. 

I can also see him being so in love with someone that he talks about them often. So much so, word would end up getting back to you that he just won't shut the fuck up 

I think he'd be ok with physical touch. I can see him being cool with hanging out and cuddling. It'd be such a change of pace compared to the usual hostile and combat filled life he lives 

He really enjoys your presence and being around someone who's peaceful and doesn't have unnecessarily high expectations of him 

Back to what I said earlier about cooking, I think that would be his favorite thing to do with you. Food can bring people together and inviting you to cook or bake with him brings you two closer. He'd probably let you pick what to make too. 

I can see him doing corny shit too if you asked. Like if you said “hey can you write me a love letter even though we're sitting right next to each other?”, he'd probably say “umm, sure”. 

I just think he'd really enjoy having a person that was just for him and it'd be very very clear 

Similar mindset to Kuai Liang in terms of “why wouldn’t I show my partner affection when I can die at any point?”

I tried to use different gifs than usual but I probably did not😀