#and of course the quality was a little low res

[yanderestarangel]

A/N:That's a really hot request! I love writing gang!bang x reader, sorry if it's a little bad, I did my best, sorry if it was too long too - thanks for the request<3

| PS: The nominations for each 'Bi Han' are: 'OG!Bi Han' - bi han from the reader's 'original' timeline, 'Titan!Bi Han' - bi han from the alternative timeline who appears at the end of the game helping liu kang in some endings, 'Dark!Bi Han' - fully corrupted bi han and also from an alternate reality. |

 TW: v!sex, handjob,oral (f!re), double!blowjob, cum!play, face!fuck, they/them used, voyeurism, exhibitionism, threesome, gang bang, sub reader, aggressive sex, praise, degradation, dumbfication, afab anatomy, titan!bi han,og!bi han, dark!bi han x reader , sub!reader, smut, nsfw, little plot in final cut.

⸺ It would be an understatement to say that you weren't surprised when you saw your boyfriend take two people to your house, but they weren't two strangers... They were versions of himself. He introduced you to 'Titan Bi Han' a wiser, calmer and softer version of him, he was the same as your companion... But as if all the qualities were gathered only in him, without the 'rotten' part that the grandmaster had - and Soon after, it was the turn of 'Dark Bi Han', the totally corrupted version of him, however, there was still something that shone there, something that only you knew.

You didn't question at first what everyone was doing there, after all, you trusted your boyfriend, but you soon realized that it wasn't just a (a) normal visit... By the way each look devoured you... After all, Bi Han was a man jealous, but it was okay to share your partner, if you with other versions of himself... Right? You tried to protest a little... Telling your boyfriend - 'OG!Bi Han' that it was too much to have three men in your body at once, but they soon reassured you... Well, not all of them.

⸺ OG!Bi Han smiled, his eyes darkening with desire as he approached you. "-Don't worry, love. We'll take it slow and make sure you're comfortable every step of the way," he said, his voice low and seductive. Titan!Bi Han nodded, a gentle smile on his face. "-Yes, we want you to enjoy every moment, darling. We'll make sure to please you in ways you've never imagined," he murmured, his fingers gently tracing your arm.

Dark!Bi Han, on the other hand, wore a wicked grin as he closed the distance between you. His touch was rough, his fingers gripping your chin to tilt your head back. "-I don't care about your comfort, little one. I want to ravish you, use you for my pleasure," he growled, his breath hot against your ear. The contrast between the three versions of your boyfriend heightened the anticipation and excitement coursing through your veins.

OG!Bi Han leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, teasing kiss. "-We'll start with something simple doll face," he whispered, his voice dripping with anticipation. His hands wandered, one slipping beneath your shirt to caress your breasts, while the other trailed down to tease the sensitive skin at the hem of your pants.

Titan! Han's touch was tender as he pressed himself against your back, his hands trailing along your curves. He nibbled on your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. "-I want to explore every inch of your body, my love. To worship you and make you feel incredible," he murmured, his voice filled with adoration for you.

Dark!Bi Han's touch was possessive and demanding, his fingers digging into your hips as he pressed his body against yours. "-You're mine to use, to fuck, little thing.." he growled, his breath hot against your neck. His lips traveled down, leaving a trail of cold kisses along your collarbone - They took their time, savoring every moment, as they brought you closer to the edge of pleasure with their skilled touches and sinful whispers. You were surrounded by a whirlwind of desire, lost in a sea of pleasure that only intensified with each passing second - As the intensity built, OG!Bi Han took the lead, guiding you to the bed, he positioned himself between your legs, his hands gently parting your folds as he leaned in to taste you. His tongue flicked against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body his lips closed around your sensitive bud, sucking and teasing it with expert precision.

Meanwhile, Dark!Bi Han held his throbbing cock in front of your mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided himself between your lips. His length filled your mouth, stretching you as you eagerly took him in. Your tongue swirled around him, tasting his salty essence as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each rhythmic movement. Dark!Bi Han groaned with satisfaction, his hips rocking gently against your mouth. "-I've missed you more than words can express... And I'm going to fuck you until you're completely ruined, completely mine." - You hadn't understood his comment... yet. You decided to focus on pleasure, even though that phrase was playing in your mind, you tried to read the ghostly eyes of that corrupted version of your partner, but you found nothing but longing and lust.

Titan!Bi Han, not wanting to be left out, positioned himself next to you, his hand wrapping around his erect shaft. He moaned softly as you took control, your fingers gliding along his length, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive him wild. You could feel the heat radiating from his cock, the pre-cum slick against your fingertips as you stroked him, matching the pace of your mouth on Dark!Bi Han. "-Fuck..mmpmh- you're so pretty- yes... Just like that baby" OG!Bi Han increased the pressure of his tongue against your clit, his movements becoming more urgent and deliberate. Dark!Bi Han groaned, his hips thrusting into your mouth as he neared his climax. Titan!Bi Han's grip tightened around your hand, "-Yes fuck- I'm going to cum, keep those pretty little hands around my dick... fuck you're so good at this my bunny..."

And then, in a glorious crescendo, pleasure washed over all of you. Your body convulsed with ecstasy as your orgasm crashed through you, waves of lust radiating from your core. Dark!Bi Han released his load into your mouth, his hips jerking with each spurt of cum. Titan!Bi Han's cock pulsed in your hand, warm cum spilling over your fingers. And OG!Bi Han continued to lap at your sensitive clit, prolonging the pleasure until you were left breathless and spent. "-This isn't over yet doll..." He wasted no time in taking you on all fours, positioning himself behind you. Your body quivered with anticipation as he lined himself up with your wet entrance. With a firm thrust, he plunged into you, filling you completely. A gasp escaped your lips. Dark!Bi Han, ever the dominant one, stood before you, his eyes filled with a primal hunger. He relished in the power he held over you, his voice dripping with a deliciously degrading tone. "-You are an insatiable little whore.." he growled, his words sending shivers down your spine. "-Take his cock like a good little fucktoy. Show us how much you crave it."

Dark!Bi Han and Titan!Bi Han positioned themselves in front of you, their erect members proudly on display. You wanted to please them both, to take them deep into your mouth and show them the desire and passion you felt. With determination, you took them both in your hands, feeling their warmth and hardness against your skin. Your lips parted, and you eagerly engulfed both their cocks, alternating between them, giving equal attention to each. The taste of their arousal filled your mouth, their moans of lust spurring you on. As you struggled to accommodate both of them, your mouth stretched wide, taking in the delicious sensation of their lengths moving against your tongue. It was a delicious torment, the dual pleasure of being filled by both Dark!Bi Han and TiTan!Bi Han, their hands gently threading through your hair, guiding you with each rhythmic movement. You could hear praises being moaned and whispered, your knees hurt, your eyes were streaming tears and your pussy was drooling on OG!Bi Han's cock, you were being filled by all of them, the hot and cold sensation would almost make you pass out, if not it was the painful and delicious occupation of the dicks of the alternative versions of the grandmaster. Dark!Bi Han's hips bucked, a low groan escaping his lips, as he spilled his essence into your mouth. The taste of his release was both familiar and new, a delicious reminder of the intimacy you shared. Titan!Bi Han followed suit, the intensity of his orgasm, but he withdrew from your mouth, cumming on your face, and giving a light erotic slap with his cum-stained dick on your face.

"-Cum in their cunt... breed them like the little slut they are..." Dark!Bi Han told his counterpart, who started fucking you with all his intensity again, you couldn't take it anymore, looking for support in Titan!Bi Han while your cyromancer boyfriend filled you with cum, making you cry with pleasure. Your body hurt so much, you actually felt like you were going to pass out, as you saw a melancholy look coming surprisingly from the corrupted version of your boyfriend... Dark!Bi Han, a chaste kiss was left on your cheek by him, while Titan!Bi Han spoke something for the original version of your boyfriend, a 'I'm sorry' was whispered by the dark ninja, a small tear was left by him on your sweaty skin. You managed to regain consciousness and put together some loose sentences spoken by Asian men - you realized that your boyfriend, had allowed both to experience you intimately because in their reality, your version had tragically passed away. You were the only living version of yourself left, and they sought solace and connection with you, the closest thing to the love they had lost. Your heart found as you absorbed the weight of their sorrow. It was a bittersweet revelation - You reached out, your hand trembling slightly, and cupped Dark!Bi Han's cheek, his hand finding its place on your other cheek. His touch was gentle... but cold...deadly cold, his voice filled with pain. "-Thank you.. It means more than you can imagine."

You soon saw the two versions leave with your boyfriend, both giving advice and strategies on how to prevent your death... but they knew that deep down, there were fates worse than death, and that unfortunately... fate is inevitable.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[its-quiet-colter]

Worn Bedrolls

FTM! Pero Tovar x Male!Reader

Word Count: 2983

Warnings: 18+ NSFW smut, oral sex, vaginal fingering, face sitting, multiple orgasms, established relationship, its all very soft dw. switch!Pero, no afab language used, just 'hole 'and 'dick'. also! some size difference between the reader and pero.

Notes: i had to re-write this so many times and it's still unedited but i love my stinky man so this is the end result. enjoy.

| archive of our own |

The campfire crackles in front of you, casting warm shadows into the night. It quells the ache in your feet as you stretch out on a patch of grass, unwinding after a hard day. Darkness surrounds your little campsite of thieves and vagabonds, the shrubs and nearby bushland keeping the rest of the world at bay. The nearest village is at least a day's ride away. More than enough for you. All of you are tucked away from civilization, granted a brief respite from fighting. Serenity at last, if only for a moment.

Meat roasts over the fire, unseasoned and stringy. It does little to stir your appetite. The meals you get at taverns are a luxury that you’re rarely afforded. Out here on the land, there is little in the way of delicacies and treats. But when you’ve been exerting yourself all day, you’re not going to complain about the quality of the food served. You’re swords for hire, not cooks. Men living off the land, moving from place to place, each job just another means to an end. Mercenaries. Each new day brings the certainty of danger and the uncertainty of survival. The men beside you are as untrustworthy and sly as yourself, no doubt ready to stab each other in the back at the slightest scent of more gold. It wouldn’t be the first time your companions have left another behind whilst escaping the law or you’ve awoken to one less member of your group at breakfast. One less mouth to feed, you had heard the other’s say with a grumble as everyone continued on.

Only one watches your back.

Quiet and brutish, he sits down beside you with a heavy thud, his back hitting the log as the sound of his chainmail shifts along with his movements. Pero Tovar grumbles underneath his breath, always moody after being given the responsibility of keeping watch. He loathes the silence that comes with sitting on the outskirts of camp, restlessly fidgeting with his knife and looking up at the faintest sound of wind rustling leaves and twigs snapping under the hooves of your horses grazing. The man is unable to sit still with his own thoughts for too long, always on edge and grumpy.

He reaches over you, picking up the plate you had just finished with as he tops it with his own dinner for the night. The meat is overcooked and unflavoured, a perfect complement to the stale bread that he shovels it into his mouth with a sigh. Like a man starving, Pero eats quietly to himself. In all the years you’ve known him, he’s never complained about food. He eats quietly, eyes focused on the flames in front of him, and it’s there under the warm golden glow of the fire do you see the underlying exhaustion in his gaze. So subtle only you could catch it.

“Tired?” You ask, gentle and curious. There is a softness in your voice that is only reserved for when it’s the two of you. Hushed and low to keep the others out. Just as it should be.

Pero is your partner in crime, your other half. You complement each other. Where he is brutish and strong, you are agile and quick-witted. Each skill set offered to defend the other. There is a sense of safety in numbers, or in this case just two. Of course you both sleep with one eye open, but your hands stay intertwined between your bedrolls. It’s as if the world is a little safer knowing you’ve got someone like Pero watching your blind spots. And he would never admit it, but he needs you far more than he’s ever admitted aloud.

“Mh.” Pero grumbles out a response to your question, a rumbly noise made around a mouthful of bread. His calloused fingers tear off another piece of meat to chew, always a messy eater.

Despite his lack of words, Pero isn’t one to lie. Not to you. His leg presses against your own, the touch telling you more than his words ever could. Broken down, exhausted and tired; it’s his way of asking for comfort.

It had been a big day, riding all morning and guarding a stagecoach across the plains. It was filled with some rich nobleman’s precious cargo– you didn’t know what, but you weren’t paid to ask questions. And it would be enough to get by, to restock when you arrived at the nearest town soon enough. On another day; you, Pero and the rest of your wayward group would be robbing the very loot you’re being paid to guard. It didn’t matter to you, so long as the money came through at the end.

The sun had been harsh, beating down on your backs for hours on end. Unforgiving. The armour you wore was heavy and thick, weighing you down throughout the day and leaving a dull ache in your shoulders. Sweat slicking your hair down. Pockets of forest offered only a temporary reprieve from the harsh, hot conditions, but it did little to help keep your heads held high. The dry air wore all of you down after long enough.

Pero’s armour is still caked in blood from today’s labour, having done most of the hard work out there as he always does. Ruthless and strong, he runs towards danger, drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Stubborn fool, you think. But as you look at him you hold nothing but fondness for your lover. It’s in his nature to be violent, and yet, through all the fighting, he’s watched your back since you were both little street urchin’s fighting for scraps. Pero has always swung hard and thought second, consequences be damned. But he’s always done it for you. Several of his scars are from the fact he charged head first into the battlefield to save you.

As children, you’d both steal food from vendors at bustling marketplaces, hiding under crates and maneuvering between legs, carts and stalls. Always sharing the scraps with each other. It made surviving far easier. Pero had protected you when a vendor had noticed you stealing from him, and called the city guards who chased you through winding streets and underground sewers. He nearly lost an eye that day. A nasty scar forever left on his face, marking from his left brow down to his cheek. He denies ever having cried that day, and you knew then that he would stick by you, no matter how many scars it earned him.

He’s a man of few words, but he loves you nonetheless.

“You’re filthy.” You say as Pero puts his now empty plate down, wiping his hands along his pants to be mixed in with dry sweat and blood. There is no heat in your words, nothing but gentleness reserved only for the man you love oh so dearly. Carefully, you pick up a rag and dip it into a basin of water, leaning over to wipe a streak of grime off his cheek. Pero looks at you, his eyes soft and warm as he blinks. Unmoving. He lets you pamper him for a moment, his hands resting over your wrists as he simply just… watches you.

You bring the rag over the dirt on his temple, cleaning his face. Mindful of the scar that adorns his cheek, your thumb brushes over his skin in reverent motions. The scruff of his stubble, the smell of sweat and gunpowder that lingers in his hair. All things you’ve come to love about him. He’s sunkissed from the harsh day outside, tired from the heat. There is a sluggishness about him, like he just wants to collapse in your arms and sleep off the exhaustion.

Pero’s hand moves down to your hip, leaning into your touch like a cat silently seeking comfort. He’s not a man that begs, and yet here he is, silently pleading for your touch. His hardened gaze softened to something far more intimate.

“Come on,” You whisper, standing up and offering a hand to Pero. Not that he needs your help, he’s far bigger than you. “Let’s call it a night, amor.”

He takes your hand, and instead of you pulling him up, you fall right over his chest with a soft sound escaping you.

“You did that on purpose.”

“No.” He lies. The flat tone in his voice hides his amusement as you huff and look down at him.

“Smug bastard.” You say, a hand brushing his wayward curls off his forehead affectionately.

“You love me.” He counters. And love him you do.

–

The tent you two sleep in is barren to say the least. Everything can be packed up and moved within a day. Bedrolls that have seen better days, a stray pair of boots, a rucksack for belongings, pieces of each other laid about. One day you’ll have a real home. But that day is far off for now whilst you’re out on some corner of the globe chasing your next job.

Pero flops down on his bedroll, and you lean down to tug at the straps holding his chainmail across his chest. Peeling away layer after layer of heavy armour until all that’s left is the man underneath. He watches silently as you straddle his lap, fingers sliding through his dirty hair as you brush his scruffy hair out of his eyes.

“Do you remember when we were children?” You start, tender and fond as you look down at him. “When we found that rusted old blade.”

“You cut my hair then.” Pero nods. He closes his eyes, resting his cheek against your chest as he takes comfort in your blunt nails scratching his scalp. “And you did a messy job.”

“They were blunt.” You counter against his half-hearted grumbling. A warm smile gracing your face as you kiss his head, nose buried in his hair. Pero smells like sweat and dirt– the outdoors clung to him, leaving him smelling like the woods you’ve taken to living in for a few months now.

His hands hold your hips, ensuring you aren’t leaving his lap anytime soon. Pero kisses at your collarbone, hands hiking up the back of your shirt to feel warm, smooth skin. Feeling you is grounding. He always needs your touch, needs to feel you close in order to know he’s exactly where he needs to be. Everything is okay when it’s just the two of you here like this. The outside world long forgotten.

Your shirt comes off, and then his as Pero starts to bite at your shoulder and leave marks along the curve of your neck. He loves the way he can make you sound, all breathy and relaxed as you lazily grind against his thigh and cradle his head against your chest. 

The tent feels warm and your hands move to grip his broad shoulders as your arousal starts to strain against your drawers. Pero’s body is marred by scars and bruises, years of fighting on display under you. The bandages wrapped around his chest are too tight, bound and put there in a haste to forget their purpose. It’s easier to ignore the bindings when they’re tucked under several layers of chainmail and leather. They’re old and caked in blood, starting to tear along his side where his armour pinches too tightly underneath his arm. You know he hates it, the discomfort on his face, the stubbornness to refuse to address it causes him more pain than he ever admits to having.

You see the way Pero’s brow twitches, the slight shuffle of discomfort that isn’t arousal as he feels your lingering gaze. You’ve seen him a thousand times before, and yet it’s still too much for him on some days. Even if you love him regardless of what his body looks like. You distract him with a kiss, pulling him away from his thoughts and back to the feel of you.

Pero pulls you impossibly closer, your crotch grinding together between thin layers of clothing. His hands slide under the waistband of your pants, squeezing your cheeks under his rough palm as he moans against your lips. Your fingers tug on his hair and Pero opens his mouth further, letting your tongue in as his breathing picks up.

“Shall I get the harness, mi espada?” You ask against his lips, panting for breath when you finally pull away just enough for breath. You’re already reaching for the rucksack, more than ready to be on the receiving end of his pleasure. There have been many incredible nights where Pero had fucked you hard and loving, in the harness you had made just for him and his pleasure. You’ll never forget the first time he wore it, how he made love to you in this very tent. How his face had been buried in your neck, your skin damp with his tears with your arms and legs thrown around him to hold him close.

This time however, Pero shakes his head and rolls you over so you’re pressed down on the worn bedroll with his legs on either side of your head. He takes a second to shuffle awkwardly out of his own trousers, throwing them off to the side. Your size difference is so noticeable when he’s above you like this, how large his thighs are and how warm and heavy he feels on top of you. It’s intoxicating, the smell of his arousal and the way his hands slide into your hair make you groan in eager anticipation. He tugs you up slightly by the hair, biting his lip hard as he pulls you in.

Damp curls and slick coat your chin as Pero grinds against you, a guttural moan leaving him as you grip his thighs and lap him up hungrily. He rubs his groin over you, mouth left open and panting as a string of noises leave him. The tent does little to muffle the sound of you both but neither of you care. Your companions know not to ask questions anyway; or find themselves at the end of Pero’s blade.

Heat pools in Pero’s gut as your nose rubs against his dick, your tongue sliding into his hole. Pero’s hips involuntarily buck against your face as he clenches around you, trying to draw out every little bit of pleasure he can as he uses you for his pleasure. And oh he loves it– loves the way you make him feel. How you know his body inside out. 

“Ngh fuck, Pero.” You moan against him, muffled. The vibrations and the curl of your tongue make his back bow and his eyes close as he feels the coil in his gut get tighter. The taste and smell of him is intoxicating, you could almost get drunk off it. You’ll never admit it, but your favourite place is right here, underneath him, nose buried in dark messy curls. His thighs, thick and imposing on either side of your head, shake as he feels himself grow closer to the first of many orgasms you’re bound to give him tonight. A brute of a man, he could so easily crush you, but he doesn't. Instead, he gives himself over to you and lets you care for him. A vulnerability reserved only for you.

Pero groans as he grinds against your tongue, trying to take you deeper. He’s close. But you can tell by the twitch in his legs and the tightening of his fist in your hair that he just needs that final push.

“Fingers?” You offer softly when you pull back for breath, panting and coated in his slick. You’re a wreck as you look up at him, but Pero doesn’t look all that different.

“Please.” You hear him whine. It’s not often that he does. Only when he’s close to coming and desperate does a man as brutish and aloof as Pero Tovar whine for his lover. And you’re oh so ready to indulge him.

Your hand comes up beside your chin, nudging slightly until he takes two fingers. His face falls slack, brows furrowed as you finger his hole and curl your fingers, leaving room to suck his tip hard. 

Pero moans, gushing around your fingers as he grinds against you and rides out his orgasm. He shakes above you and you’re left to lap up his juices like it’s the first time you’ve ever tasted him. 

He shivers, boneless and satisfied as you roll him onto his back and resettle between his legs which rest over your shoulders. You pepper kisses along his thighs, starting from above his knee and slowly moving further towards his aching need, giving him the time he needs to catch his breath. But you don’t wait too long before your fingers are in him again, three this time and your tongue laps at his dick– lips wrapped around him in a way you know he loves.

Pero’s second orgasm comes much easier, as does his third. He’s completely relaxed under you, content to let you take him apart and put him back together. Grinding your cock against the bedroll is almost an afterthought for you, too caught up in the way his thighs shake and his toes curl as you draw another orgasm out of him.

By the time you’re both spent and the edges of sleep threaten to draw you closer, Pero’s legs are tangled with yours and your head rests comfortably on his chest. Your eyes are closed and your breathing is light and airy. Both of you content with each other.

You feel a gentle kiss pressed to your head, his nose buried in your hair like it’s the most comforting scent in the world to him.

“Thank you,” He murmurs, the words muffled by your hair.

A small smile graces your lips as you fall asleep in your lover's arms.

[bodybeyondstories]

story prompt: a brand of jockstrap quickly becomes the gold standard amongst college and professional athletics because the competitive price structure that makes them cheaper to buy in bulk than any other brand. The fit is different than everything else on the market too. These jockstraps keep their butts so high and tight it's almost as if they're bigger. Are their butts bigger? That could explain the number of pants-splitting wardrobe malfunctions that are afflicting athletes across all sports. Say nothing of the guys who like the little lift and have started wearing the jocks under their street clothes too

Ok I've actually been thinking about a similar thing for a while because occasionally my Insta feed is inundated with these ads for perky butt pants, which look like low quality chinos that are just well fitted in the back I guess, but I always feel like the algorithm is being shady.

1239 words

_______________________________

[Nadir: I left you a gift on the entry table, try 'em on 😛]

[Carlos: Are these those perky butt jockstraps I keep seeing ads for?]

[Nadir: Yeah probably lol. A friend of mine got a sponsorship deal or whatever and they basically threw a case of these at him. I think they kind of work, they're all over my socials]

[Carlos: All of those guys already have nice asses, this is Marketing 101. You flood everyone's social media feeds with athletes and fitness influencers who are already stacked so you can make the claim that *your* special jockstrap has some cutting edge butt lifting technology. Then every faux butt model follows suit, it becomes a ubiquitous gay fashion piece, and the money rolls in until the next fad]

[Nadir: Ok, fair enough. But in the meantime would it hurt to look a little more caked up?]

[Carlos: You're not wrong 👀]

Carlos sighed at his phone, then at the pile of individually packaged jockstraps on the coffee table that his roommate left for him. It wasn't like he cared all that much. He was more so just annoyed at the progression of ads and sponsorship deals preying on queer men's perpetual body image crises. What looked like a regular jockstrap with tighter bands seemed to suddenly be everywhere. Of course personal trainers and athletes with huge followings were ripe for sponsorship deals to build out a market, but now he was seeing random dudes with generally unremarkable figures post in these things like they were life changing.

But they do look good, he admitted to himself, thinking about a friend of his who for years was incapable of putting on any mass, yet suddenly his private stories featured him in nothing but these jocks framing a delectable bubble butt that came seemingly out of nowhere. He held the packaging in his hands. And they seem functional. And I've been needing to re-up on gym gear for a while. And and and... he thought to himself, finally relenting and ripping open the plastic cover.

They were cute, higher quality than expected, but mostly resembled every other jockstrap on the market. He whipped off his underwear right there in the living room and slid on the jock. It was surprisingly comfortable, so much so that he didn't know why he'd been wearing any other underwear all this time.

Not to mention his ass looked great. He had a pretty dedicated workout routine and was so stranger to some heavy deadlifts, but as he turned toward the full length mirror, he almost gasped at the bubble that stood out behind him. He didn't even know he had that much ass to work with. He gave it a shake just to make sure it was real.

"I knew you'd like it," said Nadir, beaming as he entered through the front door.

And he did. He wore them to the gym the next morning, and the next, and the next. They immediately became a staple in his workout gear, and he was having some of the best leg days he'd had in maybe ever. The only issue was keeping himself from leering at his own dump truck in the mirror, or at the other gymgoers who had obviously also gotten the memo about these booty enhancing jocks. He was more than happy to let go of his previous cynicism and learn to love this new fad for however long it lasted.

The way they lifted his butt made a statement, his ass becoming the main attraction in any pair of pants he wore. After a while, he couldn't shake the feeling that his derriere was holding on to some of the added umph even without the jock. He chalked it up to the added confidence producing serious gains in the gym, confirmed when, in the middle of a set of deep squats, he felt an unexpected breeze across his butt cheeks.

He'd been noticing how significant his progress had been, but didn't think it was enough to blow out the seat of his gym shorts in broad daylight. He didn't even know that was a thing that really happened. He tried to cover his ample posterior as his face flushed with embarrassment, but after a quick glance around, realized that everyone around was largely unconcerned. In fact, there were a few others casually finishing their workouts with split seams. He did the same.

"Don't sweat it," said Nadir later that day. "It's been happening to me all the time." He had always had a shapely bottom, carefully constructed through his budding career as a personal trainer, yet in recent weeks Carlos couldn't help but notice it inflating well out of proportion, his follower count and engagement inflating along with it. "At my gym, these are basically optional now," he added, pulling at the hem of a pair of gym shorts that strained for dear life across his comical bubble butt, the bottom third of his cheeks spilling out, framed by the straps of his jock.

It was a look coming back in style, booty shorts that looked woefully incapable of full coverage. Carlos had just donated a bunch of old pairs that he could've sworn fit fine just a few months ago, but now dug into his cheeks halfway down.

Nadir's pants optional policy had been catching on across the more professional, private, influencer-heavy gyms, a pragmatic way of extending the longevity of gym shorts that didn't stand a chance against the juicy pumps emphasized by these now ubiquitous jockstraps. It wasn't uncommon, and was slowly becoming fashionable, to see people walking around with their cheeks exposed, seat of their pants fluttering in the breeze like accidentally assless chaps.

Unfortunately, many day jobs weren't yet so lax with their dress codes, producing a menswear crisis of over-stressed seams, constant tailoring, and increasingly frequent instances of catastrophic failure. It became obvious who had been influenced into wearing these jockstraps not just at the gym but in their day to day, their disproportionately round butts bursting through the fabric of slacks and khakis whenever they bent down too fast, or more often encased in much more forgiving spandex or very loose sweats. A serious bubble butt had basically become the norm, to the point where navigating through the crowd at circuit parties meant risking being crushed to death by a gauntlet of jock-encased oversized glutes.

Carlos, with a blessed work from home gig, had taken to wearing mostly nothing below the belt for the sake of comfort, his massive globes spilling out over the edges of the stool at his desk as he plugged away on his laptop. His phone pinged with a text from Nadir.

[Nadir: Can you check for a package? I'm expecting some new product they asked me to demo. Feel free to check it out, I think they sent extras!]

Sure enough, there was a package on the porch with a thank you note for Nadir and some guidelines for the kinds of posts he should make to feature their product. His fitness career had really taken off in recent months, which Carlos was glad to see. He opened the packaging and pulled out a stretchy tank top that promised to "Lift, frame, and enhance your pecs!"

Again with this, he scoffed, turning the fabric over in his fingers. Might as well take it for a spin. It is push day.

[impossiblesuitcase]

Cinder’s fashion:

While I do see her still occasionally wearing her go-to mechanic girl fit even after becoming queen and empress, I love the idea that she starts adding to her style now that she has bank. Like come on, just because she’s a mechanic doesn’t mean she’s wearing the same thing 24/7 like a cartoon character — Especially after re-entering the royal life.

We all know that Cinder wears utilitarian clothing (ie. cargo pants, boots) in the series, mainly because she’s a mechanic and/or in combat on the run. That, and the fact that she had negative funds to buy any nice clothes.

When it comes to royal attire for events, I envision her wearing oriental/cultural gowns and such, as well as elegant, one of a kind, designer dresses that were made just for her to wear (ie. Aelin’s dragon dress). Maybe a slit on her left leg, fitted sleeves, etc. No matter what kind of dress it is, I definitely think it would contain very intricate detailing of her Lunar roots, like crescents, moons, and stars in the embroidery or lacing - sort of like an easter egg. All of this, of course, paired with complementary jewelry, accessories, and a beautiful hairdo. Nothing is ever too much that it looks like the poor girl was thrown head first into a royal closet. Every outfit she wears, especially these fancy ones, becomes iconic and the media goes crazy over them.

When it comes to work related things, I can see her wearing those office-siren type outfits, pin-striped fitted pants, a cute button up top/blouse, and some little heels. With her hair, she’d look gorgeous with a blowout. She wants her hair up? No problem. Give her one of those blowout + claw clip up dos and she’s an absolute girl boss and she stands on business. Because she’s a young lady, and a rather normal one at that, I don’t see Iko constantly having her wear blazers and that typical business formal attire because to me that screams middle-aged politician (no hate).

On a more casual, outing type of occasion, I think the almost 90’s/2000s sort of outfits would suit her quite well actually. 

Because of her slim figure, those low-rise ish jeans and a cute top and leather jacket would look like she came right out of a 2000s fashion magazine. Definitely giving the emperor’s hot girlfriend. Paired with the blowout hair from earlier, the paparazzi and media eat it up. Iko & her stylists take advantage of her tall figure and have essentially turned her into a model icon, although Cinder remains semi-oblivious to her fashion impact, but nonetheless acknowledges that Iko & the stylists have her looking good no matter the event.

Of course, we ALL know Ms Cinder is the coolest baddie, so going back to the 90’s style, she’d absolutely ROCK an outfit with jeans, a baggy jersey top, perfectly curated gold jewelry, and maybe other accessories like a bandana in her hair. I love this style and am so glad it’s since made a comeback, and it’s only suiting that the coolest empress would have the coolest style.

Additionally, these street fashion-y looks will include her iconic cargo pants (which are also back in fashion), and I definitely see her starting a fashion trend among many others. Her original outfit style will now be UPGRADED to have her cargo pants/mechanic vibe but now with more of that cyborg/cyberpunky sci fi style (ie. bomber jacket, cool headphones like she has on the Cinder cover)

When it comes to being in the garage, I still see wearing her usual mechanic/comfortable/utilitarian clothes, just NEW, better quality versions, instead of her old clothes — although I can see her not caring much about holes and stains because “I’m a mechanic. I get dirty”

I am secretly Iko

I also agree on the 90s/00s grunge streetwear for her casual looks. While Cinder would probably become a bit more experimental in her looks, comfort is still a high priority, so I think her casual looks would feature baggy jumpers/jackets and comfortable jeans, but spruced up a bit with nice jewellery. In summer I think she would go for lighter clothes, like short-sleeved collared shirts with low-rise jeans which show off her midriff.

I do think her office-wear would be classy and stylish, but when I look up office siren online a lot of it looks quite revealing which doesn't seem like something Cinder would want to wear. So yes, still chic, but modest and practical. She's in a work environment after all, not a vogue mag. In addition, her work activities would vary. For public appearances and meetings with diplomats, she would be dressed by her stylist. But when she's working all day in the office doing paperwork, I think she would opt for simple, comfortable yet professional, especially since she would be picking it out herself. Probably just slacks and a blouse with some jewellery. I also love the idea of Kai picking out outfits for her <3

Cinder says that her hair "would never hold a curl", and it is described to be somewhat thin and limp, so I can't imagine her with a blowout all the time. Maybe for special occasions when Iko is styling it, but probably not on a daily basis since it doesn't seem like it would hold very long. And we know she loves a ponytail, so I could honestly see that remaining her go-to for causal/business looks.

Anyway I love all your ideas!! Honestly it would be so fun to assemble a mood board of some outfits we could imagine her wearing!

[gemsofgreece]

Thats such a shame re: the Greek class community. I've been trying to do my best to learn greek for the last little bit, but methods for doing so are rather... limited? It's easier to learn basic Spanish here in the US, or Chinese because my partner's family speaks it, but there isn't enough of a Greek community or anything like that in the city/area I'm closest to, and any places that offer a Greek class (not a 1:1 tutor which is hella $$$, but an actual class with a few other students) are in person only and at least a 6 hour drive away :(

Re: apps, so many have started integrating AI to generate lessons that native speakers (of multiple languages!) Have called them out on having down right incorrect information.

I've got vocabulary lists and Greek radio stations, but they talk so fast that it's really just for immersion right now, there's no way I can follow any of it lol

All that to say, I (and I'm sure many others) appreciate your language posts, they've been super fun/interesting/helpful, so thank you for posting them (despite tumblr being... tumblr)

Thank you! I am really happy to know they actually help some people in their effort of learning Greek or deepening their understanding of it.

It might be perceived as sabotaging people's efforts or killing their motivation but I can't help but agree that the resources for Greek are limited and often of low quality. Nobody who is studying Greek should feel disheartened because they struggle with it, because the resources really are not that good and it is totally legit if not expected to have trouble learning due to it.

Also, I have been seeing "entertaining" educational content left and right and even that makes me... angry. I have seen Greek-learning content that has actual mistakes and I am not even a linguist, so they are glaring mistakes and it's unacceptable to see mistakes or limited knowledge in the content of the supposed teachers. So much of the content features unserious and pointless intervals for fun, focusing on funny expressions or hand gestures or malaka malaka malaka tzatziki malaka yassou souvlaki malaka and honestly this is not a befitting image for the Greek language (or any language for that matter). And even serious resources are chaotic for real. It can not be justified because Greek is easier than Chinese, if Chinese can be taught methodically and realistically, so can Greek. Half of the Greeks making educational content don't truly believe others will learn Greek other than to say a couple vacation phrases for fun. And malaka. *sigh*

If it makes you feel any better, if I weren't a native speaker I would not be able to learn Greek with the tools and apps I have seen around, except some basic with Duolingo. Duolingo is solid. I have checked some other apps and have hated them all but people learning Greek swear by Language Transfer. I didn't get the hype at all but maybe it's a me problem. Check Language Transfer if you haven't. It has recorded actual audio lessons of a Greek teacher with a foreign student and it was originally designed with the Greek language in mind. Maybe this one offers that depth of understanding I mentioned earlier and this is why people like it. I still found it a little chaotic tbh but most people say otherwise so give it a try if you haven't.

You said something that works like a trigger in me XD about Greek being spoken very fast and being unable to follow. I admit it's bold of me to say since I am a native speaker but honestly......... I don't think we speak THAT fast. I have seen this comment many times, people joking that Greeks speak like "atdkyfkaugsakikoakistakpidakoltesiki" so I decided to look into it and there was a study confirming that Spanish and Greek said on average the biggest number of syllables per time unit. However, I kept looking into it and I found what could be clearing things out and maybe it's a trick you can use (though of course I don't know your level in Greek):

The trick is that the difference of Greek (and Spanish) is that unlike many others, they are overwhelmingly open-syllabled languages and have MANY open syllabled endings. That confuses people from more closed-syllable lingual backgrounds because they sort of miss the beats in which the word or phrase is ending and they think the speaker pronounces a never ending word or sentence and they can't follow. Furthermore, despite the openness of the syllables Greek has strong and sometimes challenging consonant clusters (quite stronger than Spanish) and people from closed-syllable backgrounds tend to think this is where a word or phrase is supposed to end but this is never the case since Greek has usually open syllables and the words never end in a consonant cluster (just a sigma or a ni at most), so they kind of miss the flow of the language. To make this false perception worse, Greek has some seriously long words and due to the open syllables it makes people feel like a lot more things are said than what is actually said! And the unpredictable stress also perhaps confuses people with a first language that is usually stressed in the same spot within each word.

For example, imagine a Greek saying in a breath:

"o-si-ði-ro-ðro-mi-kós-stath-mós"

"wow hold on a bit now"

"what...? I just said 'the rail station'!"

You know? It's like German but with a lot of vowels which adds more and more length. I don't know if this hits any close to home, maybe the difficulty you encounter is different, but I figured I should mention this potential explanation just in case. If this hits close to home, then try to train yourself to expect the pauses and the endings of words and phrases only in a vowel or a ni or a sigma. And when you start listening to the radio, don't feel defeated but keep thinking "I am listening fewer words than I think" and "I am missing less stuff than I think".

By the way, by radio you mean classic radio or podcasts? Because there are some podcasts where the narration is a bit on the slower side (to my native ears at least). Check the podcasts of LIFO, such as Mikropragmata by Ares Dimokidis. Check in general podcasts with one single speaker (because in dialogues things get more animated and faster).

From youtube, if you like science, check channels like Καθημερινή Φυσική, Astronio, Greekonomics. Obviously the vocabulary is advanced in this context but I feel they speak medium to slow.

If you like Criminology, real crime stories etc, check out Vassilikou's channel, she speaks slowly and is thinking as she speaks so I think it's a good pace.

For some lightheartedness, trash tv references, celebrity news (Hollywood and Greek), LGBTQ+ representation (mild though, he doesn't really focus on sexuality topics), check Eponimos. He speaks slowly.

And as always, I keep recommending ERTFLIX, the entirely free and internationally available Greek state TV OTT platform which has lots of good content with Greek audio and foreign content with Greek subtitles. Available in all devices, apps, platforms etc

I know you weren't really asking for help but I thought that maybe these notes would make it easier for you idk

[judesmoonbeauty]

Ellis Twilight Mad Love Epilogue 🗡

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. This is an extremely pared down SUMMARY of each chapter. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. The summaries will be uploaded in groups.

A few weeks ago a cold started to go around, medicine was short in supply and prices were sky rocketing. In such a situation, there will be more bad people who try to make money by pretending to be fake doctors and selling fake medicine. In a back alley, Jude confronts a guy who's trying to pass off flour as a cold remedy. The mission was completed quickly that morning, which prompts Ellis to say that he didn't have to do anything, and while Kate is happy for Ellis she tells Jude that if stomps on that guys shoulder anymore his shoulder will......

She doesn't even finish her sentence when she looks at Jude having the time of his life laughing as the man begs him to stop, while Ellis ties him up, Kate notices a shabbily dressed little boy watching them, but since what was happening could be found in any alleyway it shouldn't be a problem. Kate can't help but walk to the little boy and ask if he's alright and he tells her that he wanted to buy medicine from the tied man. Ellis noticed them and walked over asking if someone was sick? He says it's his sister, but proper medicine is being monopolized by the rich, so he came here because he can't find it in the stores anymore. Kate and Ellis look at each other. They tell the boy that there isn't any medicine that is being sold here, and he becomes disheartened. Ellis said to him that even though he doesn't have any medicine, he can make something nutritious for her. The little boy says that he doesn't have any money and that his house is dirty, is he sure? Of course, Ellis is sure. He tells Kate to go home with Jude because he doesn't want her catching the cold, but Kate protests and says that goes both ways. He says that it's true, but he wants her to be able to take care of him if he collapses. He wins, so she heads back with Jude to the castle, and blurts out a few words about how great Ellis. However, Jude says that just helping one person is not going to solve anything fundamentally.

Kate: But even if you can't save them all, even just one....That person's day will turn into a happy day because of Ellis. I like him and respect him. I wish I could be that person for Ellis.

Soon, some one cries out Kate's name, it's one of her former co-workers. He says that half of the staff have come down with the cold, and they are overwhelmed with delivers. She asks Jude if she can act on her own now, and he says yes because it's been over a month. She tells him that he can go back to the castle without her, and takes her laden down co-worker's packages to help. Jude watches her as she leaves and says, “Ha. You're perfect for each other.”

Ellis and Kate both end up catching colds and they both apologize to Roger. They both came down with fevers, and Rogers gives them medicine and tells them to take it and to sleep. Kate looks around and sees medicine and then asks why it's here when everyone outside needs it?! He says that Jude told him he had stocked up on a large supply of a substitute drug. It finally arrived yesterday, so they're probably selling it all over London now. Both Ellis and Kate are shocked, and he adds that the medicine is getting sold at a low price to get rid of the shoddy products, this also helps with the inflated prices of the original drugs.

He says that he doesn't know how it was obtained at such a low price, but he can vouch for it's quality as he inspected it himself. She thinks Jude is amazing because he can solve the root cause of the problem. Ellis says that now they can check on that boy's sister, but Roger tells them to behave and get some rest, so they both lay down together. They are both malaise and feverish. Kate apologizes for not being able to take care of him, but he says that it's because she's a hard worker that she helped with the mail delivery. Kate asks him how he knew that, he said Jude told him, so he figured she must've been busy running around in the crowds. He praises her for being a hard worker, but she rebuts him and says that she keeps falling and getting hurt, and of course Ellis likes that too. Her face flushes but not from the fever when he praises her further and she says he shouldn't encourage her like that. He cups her face and he tells her that he isn't encouraging her, he's confessing, so she should listen properly to him.

“I love you every second of every day.” (This is a play on her words when she confessed to him).

She tells him that she may suffocate due to his love, and he asks if she loves him. When she says yes, he says that she can't die until he kills her, and their lips gently touch, their tongues are hotter than normal as they lay close to each other so languidly. He asks what she's going to do when they are no longer sick, and she says she's going to push him around in a wheelchair, he smiles and says that he's looking forward to it. They put their foreheads together in a feverish daze which made the suffering seem all the easier. A few days later.....

Kate and Ellis are in town and she's pushing him around in the wheelchair, but with some difficulty. Kate wonders if he practiced before putting his brother in the wheelchair, and she remembers that he said that he had many failed attempts, so she thinks he is amazing for being able to push her around with ease. Ellis smiles at her and he asks that she show him her happy face. She makes a face and he asks for more. When she says they aren't in town for her to show him her face he tells her that he wants to kiss her, and so their lips overlap.

She laughs and happiness is born again which softly lands in her chest.

[Master Lists]

[insideliascrazyhead]

High & Low Couple Headcanons

Todoroki,Shibaman and Tsuji

-Overprotective as fuck

-patching up after fights comes with extra scolding about don´t get yourself hurt unspoken: don´t make me worry like that

-Todoroki trying to pretend not to be totally fond of Shibaman and Tsuji´s typical little behaviors that everyone has that would piss others off but not your loved ones cause they´re used to it

-Todoroki smiles.A lot more.

-He also loves it when Shibaman and Tsuji get a Ichigo Milk scolding

-When they´re not at Oya they´re usually at Shibaman´s since his sister isn´t home a lot

-They all met his sister though and Todoroki is her favorite

-and he loves it there,it´s a lot more home-y than his own

-domestic as fuck

-try to get into each others interests

-Todoroki going on a concert with them

-Shiba and Tsuji reading one of Todoroki´s books,failing miserably to understand that complicated shit and ask if there´s a movie for it instead

-especially during date night,where they switch up what they do

-shockingly stumbling across Murayama in the early morning on his way home form Cobra

Tsukasa and Fujio

-Fujio´s mom loves Tsukasa

-two domestic bitches

calling each other on face time speaking until fall asleep

-trying to be romantic then laugh about it

-god Tsukasa loves when Madoka scolds Fujio

-movie night dates

-dates in the amusement park

-clingy and adorable

-protective

-love language are probably gifts and quality time

-cuddles all the time

-inseperable

-bickering like old married couples

-soo many nicknames from Fujio

-patching up each others injuries after every fight

-probably adopted Jamuo as their child

-cooking dates until Fujio cut or burns something and get´s banned from the kitchen so he sits on the counter as emotional support and even tried cheering Tsukasa on once,who just shoved some food into Fujio´s mouth

Yasushi and Shidaken

-they´re normally at Shidaken´s since he lives alone

-horror movie nights even tho Shidaken´s doesn´t necessarily like them and nearly vomits sometimes

-gross food and candy combinations,also dare each other to eat it

-sneaking around thinking they´re good at keeping it a secret

-teasing like crazy

-any romantic couple things,yeah matching brain damadge

-lovingly insult each other

-kicking each others ass on occasion

-Shidaken loves when Yasushi goes crazy on some random thugs

-Shidaken bickering constantly with Kiyoshi

-always eat takeout,they tried to cook once.The pan caught fire and they started fighting and screaming,not knowing what the fuck to do.If odajima wouldn´t have come by that day,the flat would´ve burned down.Dumbasses still fighting while being open flame grilled

-Yasushi probably drowns in Shidakens clothes so he hits him with the sweater paws,always when he least expects it.

-The most agressive mother henning ever

-he met Shidaken´s mother,she thinks Yasushi´s a total sweetheart -You can behave?Yeah you can go eat me.Maybe later.Yasushi violently choking on nothing.

-Probably say fuck you instead of I love you

-You hate this guy.Nah we hate this guy.That kinda loyality.Now it´s on sight for the two.

-When Yasushi fell in love he thought the fluttering in his stomach is the flu.

Cobra and Murayama

-Murayama shamelessly flirting with Cobra and freezing like a deer in the headlights when Cobra flirts back

-road trips with the motorcycles together

-will probably get married on a roadtrip down the route 66

-would be the cool childless tequila uncles

-shovel talk by Yamato and Noboru get´s interrupted by Naomi who scares the shit out of Murayama

-Seki and Furuya try to intimidate Cobra too

-Kohaku nearly pisses himself laughing meeting Murayama cause of course Cobra falls in love with a guy thats so much like his old self

-Cobra get´s nicknames by Dan:cougar,sugar daddy etc.

-sexual jokes in revenge telling Dan that he´s still single

-mother henning Cobra into eating more,taking care of himself

-Murayama would mature a lot and Cobra would be happier

-wanna hear stories from Mugen and early Sannoh Rengokai

-first time he hears Cobra laugh he probably drops whatever he´s holding

-domestic routine quickly but when Murayama learns about Mugen Cobra he tries to bring him back out.

-Crazy date ideas by Murayama and Cobras weirdly always down

-Murayama tried to out eat Yamato once and nearly died

-also Dan and Tetsu are so happy to get a better chance with woman but still fail

Todoroki and Odajima

-comfortable silence

-fishing dates

-private and reserved in public

-cute couple selfies

-Odajima tries reading books Todoroki is interested in,sleeps in

-ass kicking as date

-they´re actually the best at sneaking around

-Yes,Todoroki sometimes carries a exhausted Odajima like Jinkawa does

-Odajima is cuddly and clingy

Yasu-Kiyo

-screaming instead of talking even tho they´re not fighting

-they all think they´re fighting and threatening each other.No that´s flirting

-crazy overprotectivness

-total ride or die

-violence as love language

-so many hickeys

-make out sessions after fighting other gangs

-think they´re sneaky.they´re not

-inseperable as usually

-move in with each other without noticing

-Jealous as fuck if you come up towards their boyfriend so help you god.Run.

-Possessive like crazy

-“at least this way no one stabs Kiyoshi anymore!“

„Nah.Did you even met this guy?“ „Stabbing each other is probably their foreplay.“

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Burn Bright White - Chapter Two.

Previous Chapters - One

Tag list - In the comments. DM to be added/removed

Words - 2,464

Warnings - 18+ content, minors DNI! Also, while I have tried to remain as true to how Niklas is in reality as I can, I have to have a little creative freedom of my own with him in this. If you don’t like it, simply scroll on by. Bitching isn’t tolerated here. At all. Remember, it’s fiction, not a documentary ;) It’s also worth mentioning that while Taissa has qualities of being quite charming at times, she is not, by any means, a good person.

A quick Google search between her drops had alluded to just enough information on the man she’d dealt an eighth to earlier that evening in order to be armed appropriately. He had a nylon fetish, and liked it when women wore high heels. Two things she just so happened to be very fond of herself, too. Whether wearing them or seducing another woman in them. Often both.  

Make yourself prey, but always, without deviation, remain the hunter.  

Pulling her sleek, black BMW into the overnight carpark, she grabbed her bag and shoes (six-inch heels were not practical for driving) slipping her feet into them and buckling the straps, exiting her car. She paused, checking her reflection. Perfection, as always. Then again, prolific, well-connected drug dealers were never anything other than immaculate. They could afford to be. 

She’d chosen a tight, black dress short enough to show the lace tops of her nylons, the type that adhered to her long, toned legs without the need for a garter belt, her PVC pin heels echoing upon the concrete as she walked to the elevator. Once inside, she quickly re-glossed her lips, giving her long, loose curls a quick ruffle.  

“Lady, you look like walking sex,” she purred to her reflection, snapping her Chanel compact shut. “He doesn’t stand a chance.” 

And god, how he wouldn’t.  

The Roadhouse was a little low brow for her tastes, but at least the music would be decent, she reasoned. The doormen knew her well, too, let her deal in there for a very generous cut of the profits. In her world, everyone could be bought. Plus, wherever she went, there’d be a likely throng of people waiting to party with her.  

Hell, Taissa was the party. Young, rich and beautiful. Everyone wanted to gravitate in her orbit.  

“Hey sexy! Can I take you home?” a man hollered at her as soon as she was out on the street, her lip curling immediately. 

Spinning on a heel, she looked him up and down, smirking. “Stay in your lane, little boy. I’m too much woman for you.” 

His friends howled like wolves at her audacity, the man throwing a barrage of abuse she didn’t have the inkling or the time to give any kind of witty retort to, continuing her walk.  

“Evening, princess,” Oliver, one of said doormen welcomed her with, making a point to check her bag, of course ignoring the two ounces of cocaine in small wraps concealed within the middle pocket, and her ever present knuckle dusters. “Looking gorgeous, as ever. Have a good night.” 

Smiling, she pressed two fifties into his hand with a wink. “You too, Oli.” He held the door open for her, Taissa sauntering in with her usual feline glide, the music absolutely deafening. Ahhh, old school night. The pounding of Feed the Gods by nineties metal band White Zombie erupted in her ears as she strode for the bar, a few familiar faces turning to welcome her.  

She didn’t really have friends, more hangers on, but she liked the group who all greeted her enthusiastically.  

“Tai! Get over here!” Pieter, a very good-looking man who she knew well roared, kissing her cheek, Taissa beaming, reaching for his girlfriend and planting a kiss on her lips.  

“I’m stealing your girl. Look after my bag,” she began, clicking her fingers at the barman and pointing to the smooth, black wooden surface dividing them. “Jim Beam, two bottles.” 

Whatever the lady wanted, the lady got, two bottles of the aforementioned bourbon produced, the barman knowing of course she was good for it. As well as a very generous tip. Off she and Pieter’s girlfriend – a good-looking girl whose name she nearly always forgot – went, dancefloor bound. If she didn’t have almost every pair of male eyes upon her from the moment she’d strode in, she definitely did once she began to gyrate against the pretty redhead. A certain pair in particular. 

“Man, you need to turn around. Free show on the dancefloor. Fuck!” 

Sinking another shot of San Jose, Niklas turned to see what Bjorn and his elbow digging were alluding to, feeling his heart quicken in an instant. There she was, the blonde.  

“Hey, so are you gonna buy me a drink, or what?” 

Those words, cooed in his ear by a girl who’d attached herself to him as soon as he’d arrived at the bar barely registered in significance, not now he’d spotted the object of his extremely aroused desire a mere twenty feet away from him.  

“No.” 

Her mouth dropped open. “You’re an asshole.” 

“I am, now fuck off. You bore me.” He didn’t even look back at her to watch her storm away in a cloud of her own chagrin, his eyes locked onto the blonde, entranced, reaching for another of the many shots lined up and sinking it without tearing his gaze away. “You’re too attractive for your own good.” he muttered, feeling Bjorn nudging him again. 

“She’s fucking hot, huh?” 

His mouth twitched into a half-smile. “She’s definitely something.” 

“That's a very reserved statement for you, my friend,” he observed, taking a shot and knocking it back. 

“Trust me, what’s on my mind is not.” His words roused a booming laugh from his friend, Bjorn slapping him on the back, pulling him near to kiss his head.  

“Go get her, man! Because you don’t take a ride on that tonight, I sure as fuck will!” 

Niklas continued to watch, leaning closer to him. “She can come to me.”  

His stance flew in the face of what Taissa had told him, that he’d have to work for it, but he didn’t care. He had his ways. Besides, he knew what she was doing. He could see her making sure he was watching her dance wildly out of the corner of her eye, so simply turned his back and continued talking with his friend. 

He never said he wasn’t hard work, too. Her game was something he knew very, very well how to play. However, Taissa knew how to play it better, going about her night without giving him a second look, ensuring that as soon as he realised she was no longer actively seeking his attention, that was the exact thing she received.  

Being ignored did not sit well with him.  

“Tai, here,” the barman spoke, sliding over a tall shot glass across the bar a while later, jerking his head in the opposite direction. “From Kvarforth. On one condition; you have to drink it without using your hands.”  

Her eyebrows fluttered, her group making an array of interested noises at such a proposition, Taissa looking over at the man who’d bought it for her. She knew he’d find some way to get her attention, eventually. Holding her hair back, she leaned to the bar, wrapping her lips around the glass and straightening, the golden liquid tingling her throat as she swallowed it neatly.  

Niklas clapped casually, his mouth curling upward. He’d enjoyed watching that more than he thought he would, observing as she poured a shot of bourbon into the glass, picked up her bag and made her way over to him. Two could play his game, but she’d play it better.  

Arriving in front of him, she lifted the glass, sticking it between her tits, looking back up at him with a little smirk. “Now you drink it without using your hands.”  

Standing a little taller, his eyebrow rose a tad, a grin of mirth spreading across his face before he bent to her level, retrieved the glass with his mouth and swallowed back the contents. God, she had skin like a peach, sweet scented and smooth. He ignored the approving howling of Bjorn at the display of flirting, becoming lost in the pale blue of her eyes, his heartbeat jacking up with every thud. 

She held him there in a trance, reaching for him, her long nails curling at the sides of his neck as she leaned into to him, pressed her body against his, and promptly licked his cheek. 

“Mmm, you taste as good as you smell.”  

He leaned to her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “I’m sure I could say the same about you, too.” 

“Would you like that?” she teased, leaning back, reining in his stare once more, watching him nod, about to speak. Any words he had were stolen from his throat as he observed her hand sliding down her body and under her dress, the noise of Bjorn going wild at his side, the thundering roar of music all fading as he watched in semi-disbelief as she pushed her hand into her underwear momentarily, and then her fingers into his mouth.  

If Taissa knew one thing well, if was how to make a man’s brain short circuit completely.  

Letting him suck on her fingers, a look of bliss spread across his face at the taste of her dancing over his tongue. Oh, she’d hooked him. Grasping his jaw, she yanked him to her level, pushing her tits against his chest, her teeth nipping his earlobe. “Now you know what you have to work for, so work for it.”  

Every girl in that club could have learned from her in the lesson ‘how to get Niklas Kvarforth’s attention in one easy move’, the man himself so aroused, he almost bit her fingers off.  

Yanking them from his mouth, she scowled, her hand striking his cheek in a hard slap that took him by surprise, but delighted him in equal measures. He enjoyed when women stood up to him, showed a little fire, weren’t as boring and predictable as the rest.  

“Work for it, big guy. Then you get to bite me.” Puckering her lips at him, she ran her fingernail along the curve of his jaw, turning and walking in that alluring glide towards the door. Pulling her cigarettes from her bag, she placed one between her lips, counting in her head. Five, four, three, two... 

A tattooed hand came into her line of vision, flicking his lighter for her. Sparks preceded the flame, lighting her cigarette before doing the same with his own, staring down at her. The taste of her still lingered on his tongue, acting like a drug, luring strongly, pulling him in.  

“Let's cut out all of this bullshit, huh? I want you, you want me, blah, blah blah. Let me take you home and trust me, that hard work you want? I’ll put it into making you come so many times, you can’t shut your legs.” 

“A bold statement,” she asserted, drawing on her cigarette languidly. 

His face didn’t flicker at all. "One I can back up. Trust me.” He leaned to her, his gaze predatory, hungry, almost wolf-like. “I would fucking ruin you, honey." 

She chuckled, teasing him by making a show of licking her highly glossed lips, letting him imagine it, how they’d feel all over him, especially sliding over the place her free hand reached to stroke. “Not before I ruin you, Niklas. Because I will, don’t say you weren’t warned.”  

“Doubtful, but I’ll look forward to you trying to prove that.” The tickle of her nails over his crotch had him rapidly hardening, Taissa impressed at what she could feel gaining thickness and heat against her touch.  

“You probably will, but not tonight.” 

“Then when?” he asked, his hand gliding down her bare arm. It sent an instant shiver through her. She wouldn’t be easily swayed, though. No matter how electrifying his touch. If that was how it felt when he stroked her arm... 

Her hand grasped, squeezing his cock, placing a kiss full of syrupy heat at the side of his tattooed throat, a faint, soft little moan of approval at his hardness fluttering against his neck. How he could have mauled the skin from her bones in that very moment.  

“When you work for it.” 

He chuckled deep in his throat, a low, predatory rumble, eyes glinting. “Little girl, unless you like being burned, don’t play with fire.” 

Of course, she had an answer for him, her face nearing his once more, just enough to make him yearn for it, crave the kiss she wouldn’t grant. “Niklas, please. I am the fire.” 

Turning, she left him there feeling like his blood was scorching a rapid trajectory through his veins, heartbeat thundering in his ears as she whistled sharply, holding her hand out to hail a passing taxi. She jumped in without looking back once, gone into the night, leaving her target there exactly how she desired him to be. Frustrated.  

That frustration spurred him into action. Back into the club he went, finding the next most attractive woman in there.  

“Wanna fuck me?” 

“Yes.”  

Easy, willing, boring. But it was what he needed after the thorough stirring he’d received, taking the girl home and fucking her so hard, he was surprised he didn’t break the bed. Or her. All the time, too, it wasn’t the pretty, raven-haired woman he was with that he imagined. In his mind, all he saw was himself fucking the blonde. And he would. Eventually. Maybe sooner than he thought.  

[indelen]

This is my reread of the Lockwood and Co. Books, organized by @blue-boxes-magic-and-tea , I'll make a general summary of several chapters and then post bits and pieces that jumped out at me.

Part IV, Chapters 17-18

I am in full fall mode and made cinnamon buns:

There is a lot of murder mystery, detective Sherlock Holmes/Poirot tropes in this section of the book which I really enjoyed since I love murder mysteries. These fun moments where Lockwood is clearly thinking on a different level than the other two arguing with him about taking the Combe Carey job and giving enigmatic answers or stating ��oh of course i was so blind not to see it!” at a pivotal moments in the plot are all classic mystery stuff and done for the benefit of the audience. We, like Lockwood, suspect Fairfax is up to no good. Not just because of all the in-universe issues with the story he gives to Lockwood & Co. but because we as the audience realize on some level the Fairfax and Annie Ward plotlines must be connected and Hugo Blake is a classic red herring. We are aware we are reading a book and know the conventions of a murder mystery. So we build a camaraderie with Lockwood which is essential to liking him. Prior to this we actually see very little of him being competent. The book starts with Lucy and Lockwood burning down a client’s house. We feel bad for their situation in the world and the shittiness of the universe they’re in but they’re not at their most competent there. And with Lockwood, because he’s so distant and remote you start wondering well, should he be running an agency? Morally he displays a lot of good qualities - he’s kind, he’s brave, the archives scene shows off how good he is with a rapier, but this part of the book specifically highlights that Lockwood is clever and is very much capable of thinking ahead. And this, in turn, makes us believe in his dreams and aspirations for the agency more, afterall he is actually quite good at planning ahead. So maybe, for all his flaws, his plans for the agency are not all hot air. 

Miscellaneous:

Love the running gag that Lucy just has murder eyes and both boys are low key scared of her but she doesn't realize it. 

This is fun because at first glance it just seems that Lockwood is agreeing to this whole thing because of his ego and desire for the agency to get publicity. His answers can be taken two ways in that classic detective way that’s very satisfying for the reader to catch on to. 

When I was first reading it I thought it was just Stroud dipping into a known and well recognized detective genre tropes audiences will recognize and have fun with. And I still think it’s true. But I think specifically Lockwood’s love of disguises and accents (which always always go badly) is him actively trying to cosplay Sherlock Holmes since this sort of stuff is exactly what a kid reads and loves to act out in Doyle’s stories. This whole running bit is very childlike - Lockwood is doing too much, he’s too theatrical, it’s too noticeable. This is his one very very “kid” quality and it diminishes as the books go as a subtle indication for him maturing. 

Ok, on re-read, I think this is not Annie. Annie rarely spoke to Lucy and her connection with Lucy was mostly emotional. I think this is Skull literally one room over yelling extremely colorful expletives at her for behaving so dumb and she can once again almost hear it just like during the interview, even through the silver glass.

I know this bit with bad taxi driving would have been too Looney Tunes goofy to include in the adaptation but it was great fun to read. The later part of the book, where Lucy and George settle their differences and bond over being pissed at Lockwood for agreeing to go to Combe Carey Hall, has a lot of these great moments where they snipe at each other in a more fond and friendly way and it’s really fun to see that evolution.

I love this little bit because it means Lockwood didn't lie that he “mislay” his wallet because he's a dick or because he's cheap or irresponsible but because he needed all his available cash to pay extra to the taxi driver so that he would post the message to Barnes. This is important because it proves Lockwood pretty much planned to sick DEPRAC on Fairfax from the start, well before he even learned details of Fairfax’s youth and other stuff on the train ride there. He only had them cone solo first to make sure they got the 60k from Fairfax first.

Given that Othello is canonically a POC character and the only Shakespeare lead role for POC actors for a very long time (unless colorblind casting is used, but that is a very recent thing), this bit implies we can add “blackface” to Fairfax's many crimes.  Get his ass Annie.

[tg-pilled]

maybe(?) a bit of an odd question, but I'm interested in your thoughts.

Do you think some of the new characters in TG:re should've been introduced in Tokyo Ghoul?

FUCK okay this is something SOOOO interesting to me. I think because of the limits and restrictions Sui Ishida faced with publishing Tokyo Ghoul (and his overall unhappiness with the series), I think it's safe to say that the characters were introduced at the right times. Of course I would have loved to see more of the CCG folks in training or have a little bit of a hint to the Quinx Squad in the first series (even just as little background characters would have been cute). However, I think this is actually something I'm content with in the series? I can sit here all day and be like "oh this would have been better in xyz place" or "oh I think x character should have done this different" but at the end of the day, I can't change the source material. Foreshadowing is difficult to do and it would be hard to incorporate a lot of the :re characters in a way that doesn't feel forced in the main series. Like drawing a character in great detail in the background would take away from the main scene. Ofc there's silly low quality ways you can do it but no one would understand it until :re came out and it would take up space for something more impactful in the series. Anyways, this is just my thoughts on it, obviously if you have a different opinion feel free to share. I'd love to see other perspectives :3

[whochromatic]

I must not read chapter 109 and wait for the chapters to pile up.. I must not read chapter 109 and wait for the chapters to pile up.. I must...

*reads it anyways*

Why did I do that. Damnit, I should've known that reading that chapter would have re-activated my need for more. I was way better off ignoring anything related to Yohaji and just went about my day, not thinking about Yohaji every minute of the hour of the day of the week. But the damage has been done. Now I have to read the whole manga all over again just to satisfy myself once again. But no. That's not enough. I searched every corner to hunt every single content of Yohaji. Tumblr. Twitter. Youtube. Tiktok. Ao3. Our lord and savior Canada's account. The giver of reason in life, one who resurrects the dead, the sailor uniform to my life, Tanamai-sensei's account. I know that the Yohaji content in this world is not enough and will NEVER be. The moment I discovered this manga, I knew that it would be my life. The fact that it had only reached me last year, ber month is unforgivable. Why did it not have content as many as the amount of numbers there are to exist so that it could reach me at the start of it's existence? It should have been Yohaji. Not BNHA! Nothing against that anime by the way. Well, I am grateful that I stumbled upon Yohaji while it had 100+ chapters though. And the fandom being small enough to only have nice and cool people in it. But those fics in ao3 though? Why- I mean, I don't really care or pay attention to them but the fact that the amount of nsfw fanfics is probably (I'm saying probably because they might just be more) equal to the amount of sfw fanfics in there is- I swear, WHY ARE THERE SO LITTLE FANFICS OF YOHAJI?! 3 PAGES?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!? There might be more in other places but I only read in ao3 and Tumblr if I find some there. I'm so thankful for the translators though!!! I love y'all. I love the fandom. I love the characters. I love Yohaji. I love the creator. God- sorry I forgot I can't use sensei's name in vain. I'm telling y'all, Tanamai is the GOAT. A GENIUS!! Your brain is beautiful. What goes on in head yours? Tell and everyone might gain more braincells. What's with you? What's with your humor?? What's with your lore?! WHAT'S WITH YOUR ART??? WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!?! SENSEI WHEN I CATCH YOU OHH WHEN I CATCH YOU. But of course, it's not your fault that I'm starving for more Yohaji chapters. One month is nothing to me- IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!!! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO CREATE THIS WONDERFUL AND HEAVENLY HOOK THAT CAUGHT ME EVEN ONLY WITH IT'S TITLE AND ART?? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEEE?!?! Senseiiiiii*sob* waaaaaahh... Still, I'm sooo happy this is getting an anime this year!! I've been waiting for this ever since I found out it existed along with other Yohaji fans. I knew it would happen soon enough because it's the law. It's a crime to not make an adaption of amazing yet weird yet amazing manga like no other. Death row. DEATH ROW!! It's fine even if it's low quality. As long as it exists, I can finally pass on peacefully- when it airs it better be as good as the manga and look immaculate, I'm telling you. Haha, just kidding. Or am I..? I cannot wait until April or whatever how long it takes for the anime to air just please. Please even the trailer only. But I'm sure everyone is already working hard to make the anime for it. Do your best!! You're doing the right thing! And.... uhm.. 24 episodes... please..? AHHH HARUAKI'S SMILEEE!!! IT'S INVADING MY MIND!! GET OUT! PLEASE GET OUT!!! THIS LOWLY UNGRATEFUL UNDESERVING WORSE THAN DUST BUZZ BUZZ KILLABLE STUPID MORTAL ABOMINATION CAN'T HANDLE OR DESERVE SOMETHING LIKE THAT!! AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! I can't do this. More. More. More Yohaji. I NEED IT. IF AIR AND SAILOR UNIFORM IS LIFE THEN SO IS YOHAJI!! RAAAAAAAHHH

Also I accidentally deleted a longer version of this and rewrote it with my memory. Thanks for wasting your time on this like I did.

[therealgchu]

Snippet Sunday - The Pilot

notice the new graphic? this is the start of the new fic series that'll go up friday. tagging @eridanidreams, @atonalginger, @fangbangerghoul, @@esorydoolb, and @sailor-kaiju (c'mon, show me what you're working on!) and anyone else that wants to put up a snippet or art.

it's part of the anamnesis series, and goes into how sam became one of the best pilots in the settled systems. it starts at age 6, and goes till he joins constellation. much of the themes will be about generational trauma, and how we break out of it, and fly away.

also, a reminder that Chapter 2 of Spooky Action at a Distance is up on ao3.

my other stuff on ao3.

sneak peek

Jacob had his hands full navigating re-entry with a rambunctious six year old on his lap who kept trying to pop up to see out of the cockpit windows. Truth be told, the man was a serviceable pilot, at best. And, at the moment he was regretting his decision to let Sam sit on his lap as he adjusted the nose to tilt upwards so the heat plates would take more of the brunt of the friction from re-entry. But, Jacob knew that when Grace looked at him like that, he couldn’t say no. 

They had met at a function at the Rock ten years ago, and to this day, he never knew why she asked him out. He wasn’t great looking, and she was beautiful - tall, flaxen hair, blue eyes the color of the Akila sky after it was washed clean by rain, and the longest legs he’d ever seen on a woman. He was just a mid-level civil servant with the FC, working mainly in trade, while she had just finished her Ph.D., dashing off to newly discovered planets to uncover the origin of how solar systems were created. He’d gone to the function because his buddy, Ben, who’d just joined the Rangers, wanted a wing-man. Turned out Ben didn’t need a wing-man, and Jacob was left alone at the bar. He’d been contemplating leaving when Grace walked up to him. Of course he’d noticed her earlier, she had swarms of people around her vying for her attention all evening, yet she arrowed in on him. From that moment forward, they were inseparable.

Sam was a bit of a miracle baby, as Grace wasn’t sure she could carry to term. They tried to conceive again shortly after Sam turned two, but it wasn’t to be. Medical science still could fix only so much, and her pregnancy with Sam put too much of a strain on her body. Instead, they lavished their love and attention on their only child. He might have been a little spoiled, at least compared to the way Jacob was raised, but he was such a sweet, loving boy, that it didn’t seem to make a difference.

Jacob was thankful that Sam took after his mother in looks, the same blond hair and clear blue eyes, rather than him. He also took after his mother in his disposition and brains. He was fearless and open with everyone, just like his mother, and sucked up information like a sponge. Jacob, on the other hand, was by nature cautious and even timid at times; and he knew he didn’t have a great mind. He was built to be the low-level bureaucrat that he was. Grace was reckless and spontaneous; sometimes too spontaneous as there were several times when he had to haul her out of trouble. In all, however, they made a good, complimentary team, smoothing each other’s edges.

Sam, however, seemed to distill the best qualities from both parents. While fearless, he already showed signs of good sense, and he had a kindness and thoughtfulness that his mother sometimes lacked. By the time the boy was three, Jacob felt that Sam was intended for greatness, to bring back glory to the Coe name. He knew that he was never going to; his own father drilled that fact into his head often enough growing up. But for Sam, he was going to move all of the Settled Systems if he had to, to give the boy all of the opportunities to reach his destiny.

[bookmuseum]

[REVIEW] Lonely Castle in the Mirror by Tsujimura Mizuki

4/5 stars (★★★★)

Thank you Tsujimura Mizuki for writing this book. This is probably going to be one of the sappiest reviews I've written, but that's alright. Before I read this book I was already deep in my Yu-G-Oh! Duel Monsters re-obsession/rewatch/reread and sobbing ugly fat tears over the power of friendship in my mid-twenties, so I'm just going to roll with it.

I've been wanting to read Tsujimura's writing for a while but there aren't many English translations available, and even though I wanted to read more of her detective + mystery novels, I liked this one more than I expected I would.

The first sections are very slow, but not in a totally boring way. It's a modern Japanese novel, so of course you can expect a lot of scenes focusing on the mundane and little, insignificant things in life that make up our everyday, but, unlike in other books like Toshikazu Kawaguchi's Before the Coffee Gets Cold series or Sayaka Murata's Convenience Store Woman, I found the simplistic, low-stakes, and slow-paced style really fitting (and not dragging) because the main cast were all children. I remember being a kid and feeling like days lasted years and yet no time at all. I know what it's like to dedicate an entire day to going on an outing to the mall and fulfilling an errand only for it to come crashing down once something changes plans and you're so distressed you have no choice but to run back home and cry. Little big things. That first semester section feels very surreal yet straightforward because of these insignificant yet still dramatic glimpses into a child's life. You almost forget the importance of that first page talking about the new transfer student in Kokoro's class. It isn't until much later that you realize the new student is Rion, and I like to think him and Kokoro stayed friends for life or got married after the story ends. 

Ysujimura masterfully lulls you into a comfortable yet still attentive sense of security. You know there won't be any major conflict like a war or pandemic, but you still care in spite of the monotony of it all. Things don't start falling into place until the literal part called "Second Semester: Falling into Place." I knew Tsujimura was weaving a mystery in her own way and I knew it had something to do with fairytales, wolves, and wishes. I'm proud to say I figured out the "big reveal" and what the lonely castle in the mirror ended up representing; I didn't realize who the Wolf Queen was until much later though. I thought she was a younger Mrs. Kitajima since she was a constant in all the childrens' lives, but I like what Tsujimura went with anyway, even though I wish we got to know more about Rion and Mio earlier in the plot.

Above all, I admire Tsujimura's kindness in writing this story. She wrote this award-winning book to bring attention to the rampant mental illness rates in Japan's youth, which is mostly due to isolation, bullying, and lack of support. The Publisher's Note included information from UNICEF that states Japanese children are ranked second-to-last internationally in terms of mental health despite being ranked first in physical health and quality of living. I've been in therapy for as long as I can remember and something that's really stuck with me was when my counsellors explained how being bullied in childhood can affect your entire psychological well-being for the rest of your life. One of my therapists even said the constant bullying children go through everyday is "more traumatic than sexual assault." Obviously that's a dramatic comparison, but the more I sat with that statement the more it kind of made sense to me. I believe Tsujimura understood these psychological intricacies, as evident in her story's incorporation of children's literature and fairytales to enhance the characters' complexities. You can really tell she not only likes and wants to protect these children (and anyone like them), but she also respects their strength: "You're battling every single day, aren't you?" Nowhere did I feel like Tsujimura was trying to force these kids to go to school, nor did she belittle their fears and anxieties the same way society often does. As adults, we know how vital it is to get an education, and how, in retrospect, a lot of the things we thought were scary aren't as threatening once you get older; Tsujimura's text embodied that sense of mature clarity yet never invalidated the kids she was writing about. So that's why I opened this review with a thank you to her, a real-life Mrs. Itajima.

Even though I wouldn't say I absolutely loved this book (I'm not much of a magical realism + fantasy world reader), it still kind of gutted me. The story was raw, honest, and real; you can't help but see either parts of yourself or people you know in them. It was very personal. Tsujimura's a master at portraying the world through a child's eyes, especially when things go wrong and it all feels like everything's going to collapse from underneath you. Things us adults might think of as small like a playground spat about "stealing" boyfriends or calling someone by a nickname only you have reserved for them are monumental to children, even moreso when they're lonely and trying to navigate the people and information around them. Kokoro's character was endearing; she was shy yet yearned to make friends and find answers to the millions of questions swirling in her head that she knew the adults wouldn't care about despite meaning everything to her. I loved that she was both shy and quiet yet easily provoked emotionally, and her moods shifted from extremes quite often. One minute she was so frustrated she couldn't focus on anything else but her own anger, and then the next she was regretting everything and pleading for someone to tell her what to do. I was like that as a child. In many ways, I still am.

Lonely Castle in the Mirror resonated a lot with me because I was also bullied to the point of staying long periods of time at home, much to the annoyance of my parents and teachers. Unlike Kokoro and her friends, I was never absent for longer than a handful of days, but like I said those twenty-four hour increments can feel like eternities when you're running away from mean girls at school accusing you of being a slut or telling you you're too ugly to hang out with. I remember shutting myself off completely and tuning out all the adults lecturing me on why it's important to maintain a steady attendance, and how falling behind on classes meant sabotaging my own future. I remember knowing they were right yet still being unable to get out of bed anyway, or stop reading my books as a form of escape. I remember realizing that the only one who can fix my chasmic loneliness was myself, and then still proceeding to be antisocial and destructive with the few human connections I had. LCitM captures all these juvenile contradictions so intimately. It's strange, but I felt a sense of being forgiven, and of being patted on the head and told it's okay that I was like that; even though things are better now that I'm 25, I can still be and feel like that little girl with no friends to play with sometimes. She isn't bad or ugly, she was just a kid.

A lot of kids live in lonely castles inside themselves. I understood -- completely and without judgement -- why all of them did what they did. I loved that scene between Subaru and Masamune in the Game Room: "Then you can say, 'A friend of mine designed this game,' and it'll be true." My chest tightened in a good sort of way when I read that. I really liked that we don't know what happens after the castle dissolves, or whether or not each of them even remember one another and their friendship after the fact. And even though I do want them all to meet again, it doesn't change how special they were to each other at one point in time. Their time and love were not wasted.

To end, I liked that Tsujimura never made Kokoro forgive her bullies. I would've understood if we got more background on Miori Sanada and the "problems" the grownups kept referring to, -- after all, she's still just a kid -- but from Kokoro's perspective, I'm glad we never found out what was wrong nor left much room for sympathy. It was a small form of justice to Kokoro in its own way. Thus it made me really emotional seeing how Kokoro's parents, Mrs. Itajima, and others were so supportive and patient with her. My parents and other authority figures in my life weren't as open-minded when I was experiencing the same troubles, and even though it's long over and I managed to get myself to school eventually, being that lonely kid still always lingers. The Daijirin dictionary definition that Tsujimura included of a "lonely castle" was perfect: "(1) A castle situated off by itself (2) A castle surrounded by enemies, with no hope of relief forces arriving." The parts when all the kids cried over the thought of not being able to help one another beyond the castle or never meeting in their own respective timelines/worlds were heartbreaking. It truly touched a part of me I've long since locked up after I left childhood.

I wish I could've taken a portal to a stunning mysterious castle with friends I could hang out whenever I wanted back then, but of course, like with Mio/the Wolf Queen, I already have. With my stories.

[the-tmnt-ficfinder]

Ficfinder finds: Reputation Precedes

Chapter 1: April O'Neil's Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Month

Chapter 1 Summary: April O’Neil is tough. She’s the tough one. A difficult title to obtain in a group of all boys, not to mention being the only human. Comparatively weaker than the rest of her family. Still, she’s the tough one. People still flinch when she steps forward. People still listen when she talks. She isn't going to let that change. -- April refuses to let anyone see her in weak moments. She's been having a lot of those lately. or, five times April tried to protect her reputation, and one time she couldn't

April O'Neil's Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Month: Appraisal and Ratings

(Don't know what fanfic "Appraisal and Ratings" means? Check out my explanation on my Main Masterpost! Looking for a different fanfic to read? Head on over to my Fanfic List Masterpost!)

Disclaimer: This fanfic is completed. The tumblr of this author is unknown.

The fanfic ratings are not based on quality, favoritism, or how good I think it is, but rather, how intense a subject may be. Like a movie review, or the tags on Ao3, letting the readers know what to expect.

Plot: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Plot is three out of five!! This fic isn't very plot heavy, and instead focuses more on the emotional ups and downs of April's mental health. However, there are some key things that happen during this chapter, that do warrant enough plot points to give it an actual plot. This chapter is mainly angst based, with a comfort aftermath."

Suspense/Mystery: 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Suspense/Mystery is zero out of five!! There is no mystery, nor suspense in this chapter. Everything that happens is pretty straightforward."

Angst/Hurt: 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Angst/Hurt is four out of five!! Through this fic, the angst builds up, as of course, the chapter title is 'April O'Neil's Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Month'. Its gotta build up as it goes along. The angst ranges from both physical angst, to loads of emotional angst!!"

Fluff/Comfort: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Fluff/Comfort is three out of five!! The beginning of the chapter has very low comfort, and no fluff at all, but as the chapter progresses, there ends up being some comfort at the end for our poor girl!"

Emotions Conveyed: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤

"Emotions Conveyed is two out of five!! Though this chapter deals with some darker, angstier subjects, not a lot of them (especially the violence) go into detail, sparing the reader some of the stress."

Drama/Tension Level: 💛💛💛💛💛

"Drama/Tension Level is five out of five!! Now, this chapter has quite the amount of drama, and tension!! Thing after thing after thing keeps happening to April, and meanwhile, she doesn't tell her brothers, making for tension caused by lack of communication."

Triggers: 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Triggers are four out of five!! The triggers listed in the authors note at the beginning are violence, panic attacks, general angst. Along with that, I'd like to add (SPOILERS) getting mugged, emotional repression, loss of a home/homelessness, gun violence, bullying, self-harm stims during a meltdown, and over all poor mental health. Remember, read the tags to stay safe!!"

Legibility (Reading): 💛💛💛💛💛

"Legibility (Reading) is five out of five!! This chapter is a very enjoyable read!! Its one heart rating higher than Legibility (Audio) due to the fact that this chapter has a unique numbering system for paragraphs, and a few words in italics that would be missed in audio format."

Legibility (Audio): 💛💛💛💛🖤

"Legibility (Audio) is four out of five! As stated above, this chapter uses a numbering system for section breaks, which does show up a little weird in an audio book. Other than that, its an excellent listen!!"

Length: 💛💛💛🖤🖤

"Length is three out of five!! Chapter 1 of Reputation Preceeds takes about 32-33 minutes to listen to!!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Chapter ->

Reputation Precedes: Story Ratings and Chapter List

Personal thoughts on chapter below cut (Contains Spoilers)

She goes on missions with them, she kicks ass, and she keeps their spirits up afterward. She is an incredibly valuable member of the team, and she’s happy about that, she is, it’s just-  She’s so, so tired. 

This honestly sounds like people pleasing. Man, poor girl, people pleasing isn't good.

Reputation isn't upheld unless one never backs down. She doesn't get to relax. She doesn't get to cool down after a fight. She has to keep her back straight and her eyebrows furrowed. Her voice has to be loud and she has to always have the right thing to say ready on her tongue. She has to work harder to be taken seriously, both as a human and as a girl. Maybe not by the brothers, not consciously, but bias works its way into the cracks no matter how hard you try to prevent it. 

That's the way society works. It sucks though. Man, someone give this poor girl a break, and some support!!

“That’s so sad.” Raph pouts, kneeing someone so hard in the stomach that they puke. “Ew gross.” 

People are pretty durable things, so for Raph to have caused this, either they had just eaten, and the food hadn't digested yet, they've got a naturally weak gut, or there may be some internal bleeding later on. Blunt trauma to the stomach is no joke, because even depending on where exactly Raph hit them, could be life or death. There are a lot of rather important organs right around there.

“You good Apes?” Mikey asks as he passes her on the way back to the tank. “I’m good Mikey,” April says around a yawn. “Just been up studying lately.”  “Ah, school.” Mikey says wisely, nodding his head. “School.” April agrees. 

I don't know why, but this interaction just screams public schooled kid talking to homeschooled kid lol.

The two men who had yanked her into the alleyway- and really, can you get any more stereotypical, New York?- are scowling at her. “Give us everything you have.” Says the one on the left, wearing a beanie even though it’s hot out. “It’s all in my backpack.” April mutters, surprising even herself at her words. In her head, she had always imagined she’d be brave, take out all the bad guys and get away scot-free. But there is a gun pointed at her face and her knees are shaking and she doesn't want to die. 

Oh man, this is such a terrifying situation. Now, April thought she'd be able to just fight against someone who'd want to mug her, but the honest truth is, if you haven't learned how to defend yourself against a gun threat, this is absolutely the safest option. Fighting with your hands, versus with a weapon, versus a gun, are three entirely different subjects! In movies they always depict the amazingly cool person just stepping to the side, like 'oh wow they just moved out of the way' but it does not work like that. Also, it really depends on how far or close the gun is to you. If they point a gun at you really close, its actually very easy to defend against, as there are ways to grab it, redirect it, and even take it. Now if they point the gun at you from further away, you better be giving up your bag. Or running away in a zigzag pattern. Never run straight. That's my thoughts on this. Personally, I think April did amazing right here. She didn't panic till after, she didn't do anything rash, and she got away with her life, which is the most precious thing.

April lays there on her bed for fifteen minutes, letting her mind spin with anxiety about all she had to do next, and all the time she was wasting by just sitting here. She doesn't cry, though. Her pillow is dry when she lifts her head. 

So actually, psychology fact because I love those. When you hold back tears, and refuse to cry, your body remembers that, and makes a trauma mental note so that you remember to cry later. Tears is one of the body's most used ways to relieve itself from trauma, and when you don't cry, you basically store that all up until it floods out in a mental breakdown.

“If I had the right number of fingers I’d flip you off.” Donnie says conversationally, and April relaxes at the attention apparently being taken off of her. Presumably not forever, if the concerned look Donnie shoots her as he walks back to his lab is any indication. 

I mean... He could technically still flip him off in sign language. To be honest, I prefer that one.

April regrets agreeing to hang out with the boys today. Not because she doesn't want to, she does. This is her first day off from both school and work in over a week and she had wanted to spend it unwinding with her family. Unfortunately, her body chose today to have a migraine. She had noticed it in the middle of a movie, when her brain suddenly couldn't process anything in the middle of her vision, like there was a black spot obscuring her sight. Shit. 

Migraines actually start up to a few days before the actual headache happens, and cause hormonal shifts. That's also why migraines happen more often to women, as their hormones are constantly on the flux, especially before and during a menstrual cycle. Migraines can be caused because of hormone imbalances, lack of food or water, genetics/genetic conditions, and above all stress.

She opens the medicine cabinet, squinting when she realizes she can't read any of the labels. She grabs one at random and brings it close to her face to try to read it. She isn't able to until she moves it to her peripherals. Excedrine. Bingo. She pours three white capsules into her hand and dry swallows them, wincing at the bitterness of them melting in her throat. She heads back to the movie, snuggling into place beside Raph, her spot on the sofa still warm. 

For those who don't know what Excedrin is; Excedrin is an over-the-counter (OTC) pain reliever medication used to treat headaches, migraines, and other aches and pains. It contains three active ingredients: 

Acetaminophen: A pain reliever and fever reducer

Aspirin: A pain reliever and anti-inflammatory

Caffeine: A stimulant that enhances the pain-relieving effects of the other ingredients 

Excedrin works by targeting pain signals in the brain and reducing inflammation. It is available in various strengths and formulations, including Extra Strength, Migraine, and Tension Headache. 

April opens her mouth to protest, but before any words can escape the boot rises and stomps down on her chest, knocking all the wind out of her in a high-pitched wheeze. The guy’s buddies laugh. April hates them so much.

Oh this is so horribly painful.

“Cause- cause you're a coward who takes fights three on one.” April wheezes, her teeth clenched. “Take your off-brand fuckin doc martins off me and fight me like a real man.” 

For anyone concerned, this is the shoe brand she's referring to.

“I’m good.” April lies. “I don't work tonight, I was wondering if I could come stay the night at the lair?” “Uh, does the pope shit in the woods?” Leo asks. “I don't think that’s-” 

I'm with April on this one, I have no clue how this is relevant lol.

She has, without realizing it, brought her hands up in tight fists and began to slam them against the sides of her head. Raph grabs her wrists to stop her, and she can't help but struggle, a terrified wail leaving her throat as she sinks to the ground. She’s never felt weaker than she has in this moment. “Please let go,” She sobs, writhing on the ground, kicking out at her brother weakly. “Please, please, stop. Let go.  Raph is crying now too, but his face is set, he isn't letting go. “I can't, you’re gonna hurt yourself. Once you're calmer, I’ll let go.” “You don't understand,” April shrieks, throwing her head back and relishing in the thud it makes against the floor. “You’re hurting me! You're hurting me, let go!” 

This right here, is actually a version of stimming. Stimming, while usually good, can often be bad and even harmful, depending on what the stim is. Stimming, short for self-stimulatory behavior, refers to repetitive movements, sounds, or other actions that individuals use to regulate their emotions, sensory experiences, and/or cope with stress. Often, during meltdowns due to the sensation of an extreme loss of control, individuals harm themselves, often without realizing it, as its one way to take control of a situation, and expel extreme emotional tension and distress. Along with that, for a brain that is wildly overwhelmed with emotions, pain is easier to focus on, hence another reason why that might be a response. Now, I'm not justifying self-harm stims, I am just listing the reasons why people may do this. Stay safe out there, and remember that you're a precious individual who's worth so much love!

“Alright,” Leo says, clapping his hands together as he stands. “This calls for a full-on ‘spa day for April’ night. I’m talking big pajamas, I’m talking music that’s mostly water and bird sounds, I’m talking cucumbers on our eyes-” “We don't have any cucumbers.” “-I’m talking zucchini on our eyes. The whole nine yards.” “I’m not putting zucchini on my eyes.” Donnie mutters. April is inclined to agree with him. 

Ok, so I learned some new things, because I decided to google stuff about zucchinis, since I was like, "uh no, you shouldn't put that on your face, it'll make the skin tight, and peely, and stiff." Then I realized that's actually a unique allergic reaction called Squash Hands, and apparently I'm allergic to zucchini??

The allergic reaction to raw zucchini, sometimes called "squash hands," is a form of contact dermatitis, or skin reaction, particularly on the hands.

Here's a more detailed explanation:

What it is: "Squash hands" or contact dermatitis from zucchini (and other squash family members) is an inflammatory skin condition triggered by an unidentified allergen present in the sap of the squash. 

Symptoms: You might experience itching, redness, and tightness in your palms, followed by a sticky, stiff, orange film that's difficult to remove, and the skin can become red, crackly, and even peel. 

Why it happens: The reaction is believed to be caused by an unidentified compound in the squash family that irritates the skin, leading to an allergic reaction. 

Anyways, also not everyone gets Squash Hands, so if you don't experience this, congrats!! You are unique, and I envy you!! <3

[sburbian-sage]

Uh one of my coplayers just alchemized this fucking? Thing? I dont even know what its supposed to be

Its like if someone fed an 8 ball through a image corruptor

It also gave him something called artifact grist? Which I've just never even seen or heard of before?

Got this thing so shitty it's amazing and mildly horrifying

Being around it makes the metaphorical hair on the back of my neck raise so i can only assume its fucking with space (I'm a knight of space)

When you turn it it only shows like quarter sections? It's really hard to describe

Like it doesn't have a full shape it only changes when you reach a certain point while rotating it

Kind of like an old video game or something

Tried shaking it and it just said help me on the little triangle thing inside

This shits kinda scary

First, ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. It's always fun seeing someone's first reaction to Artifact Grist. Get used to them, because they are really funny and there's literally no downside to making them (outside of "you have a 3D JPG now", which is it's own form of punishment).

Second, since you seem a bit confused, these types of items are made when you alchemize an item with a JPG-type item. Either a piece of paper with a printed photo that's been bitcrushed to hell, or a particularly low-res captchalogue ghost image. Either way, it makes not only the most low-quality janktastic version of that item, it even renders it as a item, creating something that is somehow simultaneously 2D and 3D. I can only imagine the reason why the 8ball is freaking you out so much is not only because it's a 3D object turned 2D somehow-still-an-object, but it contains other objects (despite being 2D and thus should have no volume) which are themselves 3D to 2D converts. That must be like nails on a chalkboard to Space players. It rules, doesn't it?

But yeah, they're basically worthless pieces of shit. They don't even cost anything, the game gives you Artifact Grist for making them, that's how bad it is (and I don't think it's even usable for anything, it's just there to take up space). The singular upside to these types of items is that it's like kryptonite to Zilly-type equipment. Of course, it's one thing to make an Artifact Sword or something, it's another thing entirely to wield it, considering it has the properties and dimensions of paper without actually resembling paper in any way. And ranged weapons either outright don't work, or the projectiles defy physics in horrifying ways and are guaranteed to hit anything but the thing it's pointing at.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Mike Luckovich

* * * *

Keeping control of the Senate

September 24, 2024

Robert B. Hubbell

Sep 24, 2024

On a day with a dozen important stories reverberating in the media echo chamber, I want to start with a positive report on a fundraiser for Senators Jon Tester and Sherrod Brown. Both face challenging races in November because they have achieved the improbable—being elected and reelected as Democratic Senators in red states. That fact alone means that every reelection effort is an uphill battle.

Their MAGA opponents are being showered with staggering amounts of dark money from the unholy trinity of the cryptocurrency industry, billionaires whose only goal is to lower taxes, and conservative organizations promoting the autocratic, Christian nationalist agenda of Project 2025.

But as is increasingly the case in the 2024 election, Democrats responded with enthusiasm and generosity. Several hundred readers of this newsletter donated to and showed up at a fundraiser hosted by Senate Circle. I moderated a conversation with Senators Tester and Brown that left everyone on the call feeling more confident about Democratic prospects in the US Senate in 2024.

It is easy to see why Senators Tester and Brown have succeeded as Democrats in red states. There is not an ounce of artifice or political calculation between them. They say what they think in a plainspoken, genuine, and charismatic manner. They hold strong beliefs that run counter to those of some of their constituents, but they are men of their word who devote every day working to make the lives of their constituents better—regardless of their political affiliation.

Neither candidate guaranteed victory. They have too much integrity to issue guarantees during a volatile election season. But when they tell you that their chances are strong and that their policy positions are resonating with the voters in their states, it is clear that Democrats have a reasonable basis for hoping we will retain both seats.

Senator Tester noted that at this point in his 2018 re-election bid, he was down by four to six points in the polls (because he voted against Brett Kavanaugh’s confirmation). The current public polling regarding the Montana race is skewed by small, low-quality polls by Republican operatives. But even those polls show that Senator Tester leads with younger voters and women—two cohorts that should be motivated to turn out in an election with an initiative protecting reproductive rights on the ballot. Senator Tester is confident that he is better positioned than in 2018 and has the ground organization to win.

Senator Brown is running against an opponent (Bernie Moreno) recruited by JD Vance and supported by the cryptocurrency industry because, you know, cryptocurrency regulation is at the top of the list of issues for Ohio voters—not! Of course, JD Vance and Bernie Moreno have made anti-Haitian animus in Springfield a top campaign theme. But Bernie Moreno outdid himself on Monday, saying that Ohio women are “a little crazy” for supporting abortion rights.”

Moreno continued,

You know, the left has a lot of single-issue voters. Sadly, by the way, there’s a lot of suburban women, a lot of suburban women that are like, ‘Listen, abortion is it. If I can’t have an abortion in this country whenever I want, I will vote for anybody else.’ … OK. It’s a little crazy by the way, but — especially for women that are like past 50 — I’m thinking to myself, ‘I don’t think that’s an issue for you.'”

See Ohio.net, Bernie Moreno calls Ohio women 'a little crazy' for supporting abortion rights.

Bernie Moreno is repeating and extending the slander against women that JD Vance has thrust into the limelight with his “childless cat lady comments.” Moreno shows the same disrespect, ignorance, and intolerance toward women that JD Vance has exhibited throughout the 2024 presidential campaign.

Senators Tester and Brown are both in the fight to win it—and believe they will. They have strong ground operations but need “late money” to keep those operations going strong. At the fundraiser on Monday, readers of this newsletter helped raise $192,170 to be split between Tester and Brown.

It would be terrific if readers of Today’s Edition can help push that total beyond $200,000—to help maximize Democratic prospects for retaining control of the Senate. If you are moved to contribute any amount, the link is here: https://secure.actblue.com/donate/2024_mt_oh. (For amounts less than $100, just fill in the “additional contribution box”).

Thanks to the hundreds of readers who contributed and joined the call. Your generosity and commitment will help Democrats defend the Senate and preserve democracy! Bless you all.

Post-script to the fundraiser

During conversation with Senator Sherrod Brown, he noted that his wife, Connie Schultz, is a Substack author. Connie writes Hopefully Yours—a title that resonates with the viewpoint of this newsletter—“Viewing the news through the lens of hope.”

While I am a guy with a laptop and a lot of opinions, Connie is a Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist and best-selling author, among many other accomplishments. I just subscribed to her Substack. Check it out. As an incentive, Connie recently interviewed Heather Cox Richardson and will be publishing an article about that interview on Substack. Keep an eye out for it!

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]