#corporate back translation services

[transcriptioncity]

Back Translation Services and Using a Back Translation Company

The Art and Science of Back Translation Services Translation is the process of converting text from one language to another. This practice ensures that information is accessible and comprehensible to people who speak different languages. Among the various methods of translation, back translation stands out as a particularly rigorous and insightful technique. The Importance of…

[mostlysignssomeportents]

All bets are off

When unions are outlawed, only outlaws will have unions. Unions don't owe their existence to labor laws that protect organizing activities. Rather, labor laws exist because once-illegal unions were formed in the teeth of violent suppression, and those unions demanded – and got – labor law.

Bosses have hated unions since the start, and they've really hated laws protecting workers. Dress this up in whatever self-serving rationale you want – "the freedom to contract," or "meritocracy" – it all cashes out to this: when workers bargain collectively, value that would otherwise go to investors and executives goes to the workers.

I'm not just talking about wages here, either. If an employer is forced – by a union, or by a labor law that only exists because of union militancy – to operate a safe workplace, they have to spend money on things like fire suppression, PPE, and paid breaks to avoid repetitive strain injuries. In the absence of some force that corrals bosses into providing these safety measures, they can use that money to pay themselves, and externalize the cost of on-the-job injuries to their workers.

The cost and price of a good or service is the tangible expression of power. It is a matter of politics, not economics. If consumer protection agencies demand that companies provide safe, well-manufactured goods, if there are prohibitions on price-fixing and profiteering, then value shifts from the corporation to its customers.

Now, if labor has few rights and consumers have many rights, then bosses can pass their consumer-side losses on to their workers. This is the Walmart story, the Amazon story: cheap goods paid for with low wages and dangerous working conditions. Likewise, if consumer rights are weak but labor rights are strong, then bosses can pass their costs onto their customers, continuing to take high profits by charging more. This is the story of local gig-work ordinances like NYC's, which guaranteed a minimum wage to delivery drivers – restaurateurs responded by demanding the right to add a surcharge to their bills:

https://table.skift.com/2018/06/22/nyc-surcharge-debate/

But if labor and consumer groups act in solidarity, then they can operate as a bloc and bosses and investors have to eat shit. Back in 2017, the pilots' union for American Airlines forced their bosses into a raise. Wall Street freaked out and tanked AA's stock. Analysts for big banks were outraged. Citi's Kevin Crissey summed up the situation perfectly, in a fuming memo: "This is frustrating. Labor is being paid first again. Shareholders get leftovers":

https://www.vox.com/new-money/2017/4/29/15471634/american-airlines-raise

Limiting the wealth of the investor class also limits their power, because money translates pretty directly into political power. This sets up a virtuous cycle: the less money the investor class has to spend on political projects, the more space there is for consumer- and labor-protection laws to be enacted and enforced. As labor and consumer law gets more stringent, the share of the national income going to people who make things, and people who use the things they make, goes up – and the share going to people who own things goes down.

Seen this way, it's obvious that prices and wages are a political matter, not an "economic" one. Orthodox economists maintain the pretense that they practice a kind of physics of money, discovering the "natural," "empirical" way that prices and wages move. They dress this up with mumbo-jumbo like the "efficient market hypothesis," "price discovery," "public choice," and that old favorite, "trickle-down theory." Strip away the doublespeak and it boils down to this: "Actually, your boss is right. He does deserve more of the value than you do":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/09/low-wage-100/#executive-excess

Even if you've been suckered by the lie that bosses have a legal "fiduciary duty" to maximize shareholder returns (this is a myth, by the way – no such law exists), it doesn't follow that customers or workers share that fiduciary duty. As a customer, you are not legally obliged to arrange your affairs to maximize the dividends paid by to investors in your corporate landlord or by the merchants you patronize. As a worker, you are under no legal obligation to consider shareholders' interests when you bargain for wages, benefits and working conditions.

The "fiduciary duty" lie is another instance of politics masquerading as economics: even if bosses bargain for as big a slice of the pie as they can get, the size of that slice is determined by the relative power of bosses, customers and workers.

This is why bosses hate unions. It's why the scab presidency of Donald Trump has waged all-out war on unions. Trump just effectively shuttered the National Labor Relations Board, unilaterally halting its enforcement actions and investigations. He also illegally fired one of the Democratic NLRB board members, leaving the agency with too few board members to take any new actions, meaning that no unions can be recognized – indeed, the NLRB can't do anything – for the foreseeable future:

https://www.npr.org/2025/01/28/nx-s1-5277103/nlrb-trump-wilcox-abruzzo-democrats-labor

Trump also fired the NLRB's outstanding General Counsel, Jennifer Abruzzo, who was one of the stars of the Biden administration, who promulgated rules that decisively tilted the balance in favor of labor:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

Trump is playing Grinch here – he's descended upon Whoville to take all the Christmas decorations, in the belief that these are the source of Christmas. But the Grinch was wrong (and so is Trump): Christmas was in the heart of the Whos, and the tinsel and baubles were the expression of that Christmas spirit. Likewise, labor rights come from labor organizing, not the other way around.

Labor rights were enshrined in federal law in 1935, with the National Labor Relations Act. Bosses hated – and hate – the NLRA. 12 years later, they passed the Taft-Hartley Act, which substantially gutted the NLRA. Most notably, Taft-Hartley bans "sympathy strikes" – when unions walk out in support of one another. Sympathy strikes are a hugely powerful way for workers to claim value away from bosses and investors, which is why bosses got rid of them.

But even then, bosses who were honest with themselves would admit that they preferred life under the NLRA to life before it. Remember: labor militancy created the NLRA, not the other way around. When workers didn't have the legal means to organize, they organized by illegal means. When they didn't have legal ways of striking, they struck illegally. The result was pitched battles, even bloodbaths, as cops beat and even killed labor organizers. Bosses hired thugs who committed mass murder – literally. In 1913, strikebreakers working for the Calumet and Hecla Mining Company started a stampede during a union Christmas party that killed 73 people, including many copper miners' children:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Italian_Hall_disaster

Workers didn't take this lying down. Violence was met with violence. Bombs went off outside factories and stately mansions. There was gunfire and arson. Bosses had to hire armed guards to escort them as they scurried between their estates and their fancy parties and their executive offices. The country was in a state of near-perpetual chaos.

The NLRA created a set of rules for labor/boss negotiations – rules that helped workers claim a bigger slice of the pie without blood in the streets. But the NLRA also had benefits for bosses: unions were obliged to play by its rules, if they wanted to reap its benefits. The NLRA didn't just put a ceiling over boss power – it also put a ceiling over worker militancy. Von Clausewitz says that "war is politics by other means," which implies that politics are war by other means. The alternative to politics isn't capitulation, it's war.

Trump has torn up the rules to the labor game, but that doesn't mean the game ends. That just means there are no rules.

The labor movement has many great organizer/writers, but few can match the incredible Jane McAlevey, who died of cancer last summer (rest in power). In her classic A Collective Bargain, McAlevey describes her organizer training, from a tradition that went back to the days before the National Labor Relations Act:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/23/a-collective-bargain/

McAlevey was very clear that labor law owes its existence to union power, not the other way around. She explains very clearly that union organizers invented labor law after they invented unions, and that unions can (and indeed, must) exist separately from government agencies that are charged with protecting labor law. But she goes farther: in Collective Bargain, McAlevey describes how the 2019 LA Teachers' Strike didn't just win all the wage and benefits demands of the teachers, but also got the school district to promise to put a park or playground near every school in the system, and got a ban on ICE agents harassing parents at the school gates.

This wildly successful strike forged bonds among teachers, and between teachers and their communities. These teachers went on to run a political get-out-the-vote campaign in the 2020 elections and elected two Democratic reps to Congress and secured the Dems' majority. McAlevey contrasted the active way good unions involve workers as participants with the thin, anemic way that the Democratic Party engages with supporters – solely by asking them for money in a stream of frothing, clickbait text messages. As McAlevey wrote, "Workplace democracy is a training ground for true national democracy."

Militant labor doesn't just protect labor rights – it protects human rights. Remember: MLK, Jr was assassinated while campaigning for union janitors in Memphis. LA teachers ended ICE sweeps at the school gates. Librarian unions are leading the fight against book bans.

The good news is that public opinion has swung wildly in favor of unions over the past decade. More people want to join unions than at any time in generations. More people support unions that at any time in generations.

The bad news is that union leadership fucking suuuuuuuucks. As Hamilton Nolan writes, union bosses are sitting on vast, heretofore unseen warchests of cash, and they just experienced a four-year period of governmental support for unions unheard of since the Carter administration, and they did fuck all with that opportunity:

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/confirmed-unions-squandered-the-biden

Big unions have effectively stopped trying to organize new workers, even when workers beg them for help forming a union. Union organizing budgets are so small as to be indistinguishable from zero. Despite the record number of workers who want to be in a union, the number of workers who are in a union actually fell during the Biden years.

Indeed, some union bosses actually campaigned for Trump, a notorious scab. Teamsters boss Sean O'Brien spoke at the fucking RNC, a political favor that Trump repaid by killing the NLRB and every labor enforcement action and investigation in the country. Nice one, O'Brien. See you in hell:

https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2024/08/teamster-union-trump/679513/

Union bosses squandered a historical opportunity to build countervailing power. Now, Trump's stormtroopers are rounding up workers with the goal of illegally deporting them. Fascism is on the rise. Labor and fascism are archenemies. Organized labor has always been the biggest threat to fascism, every time it has reared its head. That's why fascists target unions first. Union bosses cost us an organized force that could effectively defend our friends and neighbors from Trump's deportation stormtroopers:

https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2025-01-28-trumps-lawbreaking-also-aimed-at-workers/

Not every union boss is a scab like O'Brien. Shawn Fain, head of the UAW, won an historic strike against all three of the Big Three automakers, and made sure that the new contracts all ran out in 2028, and called on other unions to do the same, so that the country could have a general strike in 2028 without violating the Taft-Hartley Act (Fain was operating on the now-dead assumption that unions had to play by the rules):

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/11/rip-jane-mcalevey/#organize

A general strike isn't just a strike for workers' rights. Under Trump, a general strike is a strike against Trumpism and all its horrors: kids in cages, forced birth, trans erasure, climate accelerationism – the whole fucking thing.

A general strike would build the worker power to occupy the Democratic Party and force it to stand up for the American people against oligarchy, rather than meekly capitulating to fascism (and fundraising), which is all they know how to do anymore:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/10/smoke-filled-room-where-it-happens/#dinosaurs

But before we can occupy the Dems, we have to occupy the unions. We need union bosses who are committed to signing up every worker who wants workplace democracy, and unionizing every workplace in spite of the NLRB, not with its help. We need to go back to our roots, when there were no rules.

That's the world Trump made. We need to make him regret that decision.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/29/which-side-are-you-on/#strike-three-yer-out

[star-sim]

show me how ☆ jake sim

☆ non-idol! jake x fem! reader ☆ summary: jake didn't think his casual crush on you, his hot coworker at the local ice cream parlor, would flourish into anything. but one day, after a power outage during a shift, the two of you are forced to huddle up together to keep warm, opening up many, many, many doors into your relationship. ice cream was sweet and soft. and despite your appearance, so were you. ☆ genre: coworkers to lovers, fluff, a lot of bickering, alternative! reader, jake is kind of a loser, rock references, nonchalant crushes, summer romance, baddie reader, JAKE IS JUST REALLY DOWN BAD ☆ warning(s)? slightly suggestive? just tbh its js jake being really attracted to you LOL ☆ word count: 12.3k ☆ joining @bywons 1k event for "show me how" by men i trust. i had a little bit of a different approach to crushes this time. this is extremely late im so sorry enjoy!

"Can I get uhhhhh…"

Jake deadpanned for the 15th time in the past hour.

He was trying to be kind, to be understanding, to be loving in all ways possible… He really was.

But was it that difficult to order a mint chocolate cone with rainbow sprinkles?!

Jake watched as the snotty child before him picked his nose, his eyes glazing over the menu. It’s been ten minutes and this kid was taking too long to order. For fuck’s sake, he was holding up the line!

For his summer job, Jake started working at the ice cream parlor near the pier. He thought it was a good idea, since the pay was above minimum wage and he liked ice cream.

Wrong!

It was horrible!

From rude customers to his asshole of a boss to his incompetent coworkers, Jake dreaded coming into work everyday.

It was another summer afternoon, where Jake slaved away for his corporate overlords. Summer was only kicking off, so the June gloom stuck like glue. This morning, there were already storm warnings, so imagine Jake's surprise when a whole bunch of people went to the beach today and the ice cream parlor next to it.

"Please take your time," Jake said with a tight-lipped smile. Translation: I’ve given you enough time, kid. Hurry up and order or I’ll actually snap.

The kid blinked at Jake, before picking his nose. "Can I get uhhhh…"

Jake winced, but forced a smile with a nod. "Would you like any recommendations?"

Translation: You better tip me, you little punk.

By now, he could see the angry mothers and kids at the back of the line, quietly complaining about the hold-up. All Jake could do was smile apologetically, hanging his head in embarrassment.

And to Jake's horror, as the snotty little kid was still deciding on what he wanted to order, Jake could hear the back door creaking open, followed by a "Bye, Jake!" before it slammed.

Did Jake ever say that he hated his coworkers?

Today wasn't even Jake's shift, but he had to cover three shifts, because his other coworkers couldn't give a damn. They loved to leave early because they knew that Jake would work his ass off either way. So here he was, now forced to run an entire ice cream parlor with already angry customers all by himself!

"Actually, I don't want anything," the snotty kid blinked at Jake. "Bye, mister."

With that, the kid left, oblivious to Jake's gawking face.

You've got to be kidding me.

If it weren't for the fact that his name tag had his name printed in big, thick letters and that there was already a line of impatient customers, Jake might have yelled.

As he put on his customer-service voice for the next customer in line, Jake could hear the back door creak open again if he listened past the generic pop music playing in the background.

And the moment that he heard a familiar voice, Jake nearly ascended into the sky.

"Jake, I'm here!"

There was only one part of working at this dinky little ice cream parlor that Jake liked.

And it was you.

His savior, you.

You were the only coworker that actually did your work. In fact, you went above and beyond. The only shifts that seemed to be productive on all ends were when it was you and Jake.

If he could recall correctly, today wasn't your scheduled shift either. You were probably covering someone's shift like him, too.

And plus, you were cute.

Really cute.

Jake never really thought he had a "type" when it came to girls. In fact, Jake couldn't even remember the last time he had a crush. But the moment he saw your smudged eyeliner, constant annoyed look, the multiple tassel and charm bracelets on your wrists, and your black nail polish, he knew that you were his type.

You looked like you could probably scare a baby with a single look. Honestly, you could make Jake piss himself with a single look, too. And for some reason, he liked it. A lot. Which was weird.

Within seconds of just arriving, you were already throwing on your apron, fixing up your work uniform before appearing at the counter, ready to do your fucking job.

Jake tried his best to focus on the group of middle schoolers who giggled over every word as they ordered their ice cream, but even from behind him, he could hear you cleaning one of the scoopers and getting the keys for the second cash register. Even though all you were doing was your job, Jake couldn't help but straighten up his posture and run a hand through his hair as you took the register beside him. Just in case you spared him a glance, he had to look his best.

"Hi, what can I get you?" you said chirpily, putting on your best customer-service voice, something that Jake could tell was not your forte. Although he didn't know you seriously, he's had conversations in passing with you, whether it be on slow days, during breaks, or as the two of you closed up the parlor together. You never sounded as enthusiastic as you did now, as you happily helped an old lady pick her order.

You were cool like that.

Actually, really cool.

Jake couldn't think of anyone cooler than you.

And you were pretty, and hardworking, and honest, and responsible, and cooperative, and a little bit scary, but that was hot. You were also very kind to customers, and even though Jake could see your lips— which were nice, by the way— twitch, he could tell that you were trying your best, which was good, and—

"Um, sir, can I order now?"

Jake snapped out of his daze, tearing his eyes away from you.

"R-Right!"

Completely missing the way you rolled your eyes at him, though without a little chuckle.

It wasn't always easy being the only competent worker at the parlor. While it meant you got paid more for covering so many shifts, you couldn't say it was fun working the late shifts.

The parlor closed at 11PM on weekdays, so here you were, working late into the night. 

You yawned as you rang up the last customer of the night, using all of your last bits of strength to muster a smile, before saying, "Have a good night!"

As the door slammed shut, the building winds outside providing more than enough force to ring through the entire parlor, you let out a sigh.

"They're gone, Jake," you called.

From inside the break room, you could hear Jake groan something muffled but definitely, "Finally."

Jake Sim was the only coworker you could rely on. He was the only person your age, both of you were freshly graduated highschoolers working to prepare for college experiences. Despite his party-boy look, he was surprisingly diligent. You definitely noticed how he ended up picking up another person's shift, just like you. Unlike everyone else, he actually gave a damn, which you could appreciate.

Tonight was no different from any other.

It was just Jake and you, working the closing shift together.

The moment you entered the break room, you let out an exasperated sigh, leaning on the door frame. Jake, too, was slumped over on the table, his face buried in his arms.

Your shitty coworkers always tried to convince you that you should be happy to work extra shifts: extra pay, more work experience, have a good rep with the boss.

But what they didn't mention was how absolutely draining it was to work 7 hours straight in a short-staffed busy ice cream parlor.

"Why were there so many people?" Jake groaned, shoving his face deeper into his arms. If you weren't exhausted out of your mind, you would've thought the scene before you was a funny sight. Jake, in his silly white uniform designed to look like that of a sailor's and crooked worker hat, practically melting on the break room table.

"And why were there only two of us?" you added, letting your eyelids fall shut as you leaned against the door frame.

Though, you would say, you did like working for one extra reason: Jake Sim himself.

He was as cute as a button, and pretty easy to talk to.

Jake lifted his head, quickly checking his phone.

"No seriously," he rested his face on his fist. "It was cold and dreary all day— and wasn't there a storm warning?— Why would anyone want to get ice cream on a day like this?"

You shrugged. "Beats me."

The two of you stayed in the break room in silence for a few more moments, catching your breaths after a long day. "Let's get outta here, Jake."

Here was your favorite part of the work day: closing up. Not just because it meant that you got to leave, but you could do whatever you wanted.

Jake locked up the front door and flipped the sign, while you locked up front displays and cash registers. The two of you tidied up the breakroom (which was empty because your slobs of coworkers weren't here), before pulling out the mops and cleaning up the floor.

This was the fun part.

"Hey!" Jake cried as you splashed water onto the floor, your wet mop sludging up the water as it moved against the checkered floor. Looks like some of the water got onto his pants. "What was that for?"

You shrugged, with a sly grin. "No reason in particular— Hey!"

Jake shook off the excess water on his mop, pointed directly at you, the water droplets spraying all over your shirt.

"See?" he pointed to the wet drops on your shirt. "We're even now."

You rolled your eyes, but you knew he was being playful.

It was fun now because this was the time that you could play whatever music you wanted. Your manager always insisted that you'd play generic pop music during store hours, but now that it was closed, you could play any music you wanted. And it was great, because you and Jake had the same music taste.

"Really?" you whipped your head over to Jake as he passed your phone, which controlled the sound system, back to you. "Bon Jovi?"

You winced as loud vocals, strong guitar riffs, and a drum louder than you could imagine blasted through the speakers.

"Bon Jovi is good!" Jake shouted all the way from the freezers.

Maybe your taste was just a little bit different.

Jake was a cool guy. He really was. Very personable and someone that you could have fun with, even if you weren't that close to him. But sometimes his music choices were too much.

"You have no reason to be blasting hard rock at 11PM," you murmured.

"I heard that!"

You stifled a chuckle.

As you cleaned the floors, you nodded your head to the music. You could hear humming along wherever he was. It was all quiet, only the sound of mops, the freezers' buzzing, and your queued music playing in the background. It was small moments like his that made you want to keep working (other than the pay).

And plus, the parlor was very close to the beach.

At times like this, you could hear seagulls squawking overhead, with waves crashing against the shoreline.

Which... now that you thought about it...

Why couldn't you hear any of that?

Usually, even if Jake was blasting the hardest rock, you could still hear the sounds of the sea.

But now, all you heard was wind.

You glanced out the window.

Palm trees blew against the night sky. Wind whirled, creating a howling sound.

And before you could think anything of it, you heard two things: the back door slamming, and the sound of electricity buzzing.

One moment you could see everything, and the next moment it was completely dark.

Your blood ran cold.

The music stopped. The buzzing of the freezers stopped, too. It was completely dark, so dark that you couldn't even see your own hands, save for the single stream of moonlight leaking through the front windows.

You would consider yourself a calm person, you really would.

But in that moment, you felt panic set in.

Because here you were, working a late shift in a tiny little ice cream parlor in the middle of the beach, with no one but your teenage coworker. And now all the power went out.

And because you were afraid of the dark.

The mop in your hand dropped, clunking! against the checkered flooring.

Your heart pounded, so loud that you could hear it in your ears. You could feel it jumping out of your chest.

"J-Jake?" you called out.

No response.

Your mind did wonders to scare you, and now it was working over time.

What happened to Jake? Did he disappear with the lights too? You dug your teeth into your bottom lip.

Were you all alone in the dark? Just you and this dark abyss, a dark abyss so suffocating yet so cold that you couldn't even tell if you were standing or curled up. By this time, your legs were feeling weak, so you wouldn't be surprised if you were on the floor, your knees to your chest.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

The howling of the wind sent chills down your spine. Realistically, nothing could get you. You were just at work, like always, but it was just dark. But you felt like something would jump out at you, something scary and from your worst nightmares. It would get you, maybe hurt you. Were you going to die? Why did you feel so alone? What happened to everyone? What happened to Jake—

"[Name]?"

At the sound of a familiar voice, your eyes shot open.

But instead of being met with a pure, unknown darkness, you were met with a tall figure before you, completely shrouded in darkness, save for the stream of yellow light coming to illuminate its face.

Terrifying.

You let out a shriek as you jumped back.

What the hell was that? Was that what got Jake?—

It took a step forward, and before you could scream again—

"[Name]!" it was Jake's voice. He reached out for you, his hand resting on your shoulder. "It's me, Jake!"

You heard a bit of clicking, and it was then that you realized that the scary figure that you saw was just Jake with a flashlight. You relaxed.

"You okay?" Jake crouched down to your curled up figure, the yellow light of the flashlight glimmering against the floor. Although your eyes had slightly adjusted to the darkness, you could see your hands now. "I think the power went out."

You nodded slowly, still with your knees against your chest. Your heart was still pounding in your chest. You felt Jake's hand reach out for yours, interlocking fingers before giving it a squeeze.

Boom!

You jumped away from Jake, a small "eep!" escaping your lips.

Jake flinched, pointing the flashlight at the front windows.

"Thunder," he muttered under his breath. Although all the streetlights and signs had shut down too, he could see the lightning as it struck in the night sky.

He glanced at your startled form.

"Damnit," he cursed under his breath. "There was a storm warning earlier."

You hid your face in your palms.

This was everything that you didn't want to happen.

It was completely dark, and here you were practically trapped inside. It was impossible to get home, because the roads were all dark, and there was probably an oncoming storm, too. It was cold, and it was just you and your coworker. You just wanted to go home!

Although he couldn't see your face, Jake could sense your uneasiness. 

"C'mon," he tugged at your hand. "Let's go to the back."

Although Jake bumped into a few tables and counters on the way to the break room, he didn't mind. After all, there was you, who was clearly startled. He'd rather get a bruise on his hip than you.

He could hear your breath hitching, small whimpers of fear tumbling out as he led you through the dark abyss. Jake had to admit, it was much scarier when it was completely dark than when it wasn't.

The breakroom wasn't much better than in the middle of the floor, but at least there were chairs. Not that it mattered.

You and Jake decided to sit under the break table, shoulder to shoulder with the flashlight between you.

It was silent. You couldn't see Jake, but the feeling of him next to you relieved only some of your anxiety.

The flashlight only illuminated enough for you to see a few feet around you. Otherwise, everything else was a dark, bottomless void.

You knew it was illogical and practically impossible for something else to be lurking. But as minutes passed in silence, the thought of something—or someone— prowling in the dark and ready to jump out at you gnawed at you more and more. Goosebumps rose along your arms, the hair on your neck standing.

"I'm scared, Jake," you whispered, your voice shaky. "I'm so scared."

Thunder boomed in the air, lightning crackled, while heavy rain began to shower down. You jumped at the sound, your hands immediately shooting to grab Jake's arm and leaning into his touch. You squeezed your eyes shut, a scared squeak escaping your lips.

"I'm scared!" you squealed.

Jake's brows furrowed, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him.

"Hey," he said into your ear, watching as you curled up against him, clutching his arm tight. "Hey, I got you."

Your hold on him only tightened as another round of thunder boomed through the night. "Open your eyes, [Name]. It's okay."

You shook your head profusely, your face pressed into his shoulder.

"Nothing's gonna get ya," he whispered, slowly rubbing circles on your back. "You're okay."

You shook your head again.

"It's so dark," you peeped. "Too dark."

"It's okay," Jake's voice was soft, soft as a cloud as he comforted you. "I'm here. I got you."

You nodded into his shoulder, but you kept your face pressed against it, not letting up.

Jake watched you, both with a soft heart and with wide eyes.

He wouldn't say he knew you too well. Even so, he'd spent a lot of time with you this summer so far, he had a few good memories with you. You were always so... cool.

Always on-task, always ready to fight a rude customer, always ready to speak up if you thought something was wrong.

It was weird. Seeing someone that Jake had always seen as a pillar of support one way or another completely drop that image of strength was… something that he never expected.

Here you were, so vulnerable in his arms.

Jake would have never expected you to be afraid of the dark, let alone some thunder, but he didn't mind. Even with your eyes closed, and even with his arms wrapped around you, you still jolted at each crackle in the sky.

If only he could do something to help you...

Jake let out an 'ah' sound.

He leaned into your ear, whispering right against the shell of your ear, "I'll be right back."

You let out another squeak as you felt Jake slipping away from you, yet he didn't take the flashlight with him.

"J-Jake—!"

"I'm still here," he said, yet you heard as he took a few steps. He was rummaging through his bag. He tried his best to feel for what he was looking for: a small, square case. "I'm with you, don't worry."

And as quick as he left your side he was back. Jake slithered his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Your eyes widened a fraction as Jake fished for his phone from his back pocket.

"What were you—" you furrowed your brows— "Why’d you get up?"

You could feel Jake turn his head to look at you, and you could hear him grin.

"To get this." In his palm, Jake revealed a small, square case. His earbuds.

You blinked. "W-Why?"

"Don't worry about it." You watched confused as Jake took his earbuds out, jabbing it into the headphone port of his phone. Then, he handed you both of the ears.

"For you," he said simply.

As you were about to object, lightning striked again in the sky, yet another squeal coming from you.

You took his earbuds, jamming them into your ear.

Jake pressed the first song in his playlist.

And if you weren't scared out of your mind right now, you would have yelled at him.

Because really?

Bon Jovi?

At a time like this?

The music was loud enough that you could be distracted, but quiet enough that you could still hear Jake's voice. And when Jake noticed that you were relaxed enough, he opened his mouth.

"I'm surprised you didn't want to rip out my earbuds the moment you heard Bon Jovi," he said.

You elbowed him, yet you were still clinging onto him for dear life.

"Read the room, man," you muttered. "I'm scared shitless."

Jake laughed, and you rolled your eyes again. "This is the only time that I'll willingly listen to Bon Jovi."

"Hey!" Jake cried. "Bon Jovi is a good band."

You shot him a look. "Play some Pink Floyd, something."

You cursed Jake. Of course he'd let you listen to his music, because he got to control it!

"Nah," Jake said. "Bon Jovi is perfect for rainy nights."

You scoffed. "In what world?"

You could hear him grin again. "In my world."

What a loser.

You could see his phone screen light up, probably texts from his parents, but he ignored it. Jake’s phone was on the floor on the other side of him, the side that you were not on.

“Are you sure you won’t play Pink Floyd?” you asked slowly.

“Nope.”

Extreme times call for extreme measures.

Your arm reached across Jake’s lap, jerking to take his phone.

“Hey!” Jake yelped, squirming away from you in a way that blocked your hand from reaching his phone. “What the hell are you—“

“I’m changing the song!”

The two of you struggled like that for a few more moments, and then the next thing you knew you were on Jake’s lap, your arms pinned above your head.

“Let go of me!” you writhed, the earbuds in your eyes still blasting the hardest rock you’ve ever heard. Although you managed to take Jake’s phone, there wasn’t much you could do if he was pinning your hands above you.

“Then give me my phone back,” Jake ignored your struggling.

“Then change the song!”

“No!”

You huffed, continuing your attempt to wriggle out of Jake’s hold, but alas, he was stronger than you. “How are you so strong—“

Boom! Crackle! Thunder and lightning struck.

“Eep!” Immediately, you collapsed onto Jake’s chest, pressing your face into his shirt. You clung onto him, squeezing your eyes shut. When you could feel his chest rumble with a few chuckles, you punched his shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

Jake chuckled again, but he only pulled you in closer by the waist, allowing you to cling to him more comfortably.

As the storm raged on, any hope that the power would be back up was lost. Jake's phone still had service, but you could tell he was being polite and not going on his phone to not make you feel alienated. Your phone was somewhere in the front, probably on a counter or something.

"We really shouldn't have agreed to cover shifts today," you murmured, your cheek pressed against Jake's chest.

Jake hummed.

He wanted to get past the way that anytime you spoke to Jake, it was either about music or work. He didn't mind talking about these things with you, but he wished he could say more. He wanted to know what you were thinking, and hear about what you liked and disliked, what silly stories or memories you had to tell him.

He wanted to get to know you.

“What’s your favorite color?”

???

"What?"

Jake blinked. "What's your favorite color?"

You stared at him. "Why?"

He shrugged under you. "I dunno. I just wanted to get to know you better."

"Oh." What a simple reason. It made sense for such a simple question. "I like black."

Jake scoffed. "That's not a color."

"Huh? Then what is it?"

"A shade."

"Says who?"

"Says science!"

And then it was quiet again (at least on Jake's part, you were still listening to his music)

But not quite awkward.

Despite the compromising position that you were in, there wasn't any feeling of embarrassment or discomfort.

That's how Jake would describe how he felt toward you. It was an easy thing. You were cool and pretty, and he liked you. Nothing more, nothing less. No games to play, no extra calculations or hours of planning. He liked you, and he was just going to do what felt right. It was as straightforward as that.

"What are you doing after this summer?" you asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

That's right. You and Jake had never discussed much about your personal lives, like where you went to high school, what your plans were post-high school, etc.

And now that the two of you were alone, in the dark, with virtually nothing to do, it was the perfect time to talk about it.

"I'm going up to Santa Barbara," Jake said coolly. "I'm studying biomed engineering."

"Oooh," you mused. "How exciting."

Jake let out a chuckle. "You don't sound excited."

"I am," you deadpanned, and Jake couldn't hold back a laugh.

"What about you?" Jake asked. "What are you doing?"

Even though it was dark, Jake could hear you frown.

"I'm going to Davis for International Business." You paused. "I don't know."

"Whaddaya mean?"

You shrugged. "I dunno if it's really my passion. I just chose it because—"

You're interrupted by a loud bang! followed by buzzing. You jolted, tensing up in Jake's hold, whose hand shot to the small of your back protectively.

"Eek!" you cried, and the next thing you knew, all the lights were back on.

You and Jake stayed where you were for a few moments, long enough for the freezers in the back to start buzzing again. As if someone just snapped their fingers, everything turned back on. The bright lights hitting your darkness-adjusted eyes made your eyes water.

"Oh," Jake said plainly. "The lights are back on."

"No shit, Sherlock," you muttered, earning a pinch to your side. It was now that you and Jake really realized your current positions: you were on top of him, with your head resting on his shoulders, with his arms wrapped around your waist. And it seemed like the two of you realized this at the same time.

"We should—" Jake averted his gaze from you, finding the floor next to him very interesting.

"Yeah, you're right, we should—" you slowly pulled away from him, grimacing at the feeling of Jake's arms slipping away from you.

"Yup, and—" Jake trailed off, not fully completing his thought.

Awkward.

The two of you were back on your feet in no time, both with slightly-disheveled work uniforms, but hey, it was to be expected.

Together, the two of you inspected the parlor. Just in case something slipped in while it was dark (even though that was virtually impossible).

Everything was exactly as you left it.

The mop that you dropped on the floor, your phone on the counter, the keys to the freezer that Jake threw by accident, even the messy chairs.

"Are you scared right now?" Jake asked with a chuckle as you stayed close behind him, your fingers clutching his broad shoulders. From time to time you'd peek around him, but for the most part, you stared straight at his back, unwilling to look ahead. Just in case a monster jumped out!

"I'm not." Lie.

Jake laughed, but before he could poke fun at you more—

Boom!

Oh right, the storm.

Like a cat, you jumped almost immediately, gripping Jake's shoulders for dear life.

Jake peeked out the windows. The streetlamps and signs were illuminated again.

"Looks like all the lights are back up," he said. He glanced over his shoulder to you, who clung to him. "I think we can go home now. The storm's dying down already."

You nodded, and the two of you finished closing up in silence, before preparing to leave.

"Do you have a ride?" Jake asked you as the two of you packed up your things.

Shit.

"My mom was going to pick me up because she didn't want me driving late at night," you groaned. "I'll call her right no—"

"No," Jake shook his head, reaching inside his pocket. You watched as he really shoved his hands in there, like he was searching for something. At last, after digging through his pockets for what felt like hours, he pulled out a bunch of keys, with a tiny lego keychain dangling off of it. "I'll drive you home."

After that day, you weren't called into work again for a few days. In those few days, for some weird reason, you couldn't get Jake off your mind. Which you thought was weird.

You never really thought about Jake aside from work. And it wasn't even the fact that you were thinking about him! It was the fact that you felt weird for feeling weird about thinking about him. If that even made sense.

He's always been cute. Gentlemanly, too.

When he drove you home the other day, he insisted that you didn't need to pay him back for driving you home. In fact, he said that he'd rather use more gas than have you wait alone at the parlor to be picked up. He opened and closed the door for you, showed you how to control the heaters so that you could be warm, and even let you play your music!

He was reliable too, someone that you knew you could count on. And he was very kind, because no matter how many rude customers there were, he understood that everyone was human and served them with a smile. Unlike you, who always exercised that "we reserve to deny you service" right.

These were all things that you knew. It was no surprise. You knew these things.

But after that day, you couldn't help but feel like it was... amplified.

Jake was cute, but now he was cuter. Way cuter.

He felt even more gentlemanly and reliable and kind now. Him going out of his way to comfort you, even if it meant that you had to listen to his god-awful music, warmed your heart.

And that was the weird part.

It was just so odd. You couldn't stop thinking about him. And you felt all weird and mushy for thinking about him, which made you feel even weirder!

You didn't really get it.

Surely, it wasn't a crush.

It wasn't like you were all over the place, distracted and spacy and blushing now that Jake was on your mind. You weren't rolling around and kicking your feet, nor were you giggling.

But you would be lying if you said that the simple thought of his name didn't make you excited.

Meanwhile, Jake knew exactly what was happening to him.

And it was that his crush on you definitely deepened tenfold.

In the moment, when he was with you, whether it be the other day or any other day at all, he was always nonchalant. It was a casual crush, he'd say. Everything was straightforward with no games to play.

But that was a lie.

Because here he was, lying on his bed and staring at his ceiling. He hugged his pillow, embarrassingly pretending that it was you. He felt like a weirdo, but he couldn't get the feeling of you clinging to him and in his arms out of his head!

Just the mere thought of that night made him have to roll around and giggle for a few moments.

Jake sucked in the scent of his pillows. Unfortunately, they didn't smell like you, just like laundry with a faint scent of his own cologne.

You were so pretty, and cool, and kind, and smart, and practical, and just everything good in the world. And then when you got scared and clung to him, it made his heart flutter, because who knew you could be so cute?

Jake let out a squeal into his pillow, his cheeks hurting from how much he was smiling.

For the first time ever, Jake actually wanted to go to work. Just to see you.

He couldn't wait for it.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," you said for the millionth time today. "We don't have that here—"

Another day at work. Just when the idea of going to work didn't sound too bad, you're reminded why you hate it.

Apparently some kids on TikTok spread a rumor that your parlor had a special, limited-edition, summer unicorn flavor. And even worse, your damn social media manager was hinting at it on Instagram, too.

So here you were now, trying to explain to a hoard of angry customers that this limited-edition unicorn flavor was absolutely false. To think that your own social media manager would betray you and your coworkers like this just to attract more customers... You shouldn't be unsurprised but you were.

Diabolical.

It must've been the 90th time in the past hour that you had to explain that you had no fucking clue what a unicorn flavor would be, and if you weren't a tired and overworked teenager, you would've felt bad when a little girl bursted into tears in the middle of the store.

Cry about it, you thought, and you couldn't tell if that sentiment was towards your angry customers, or if it was towards upper management that were about to get multiple complaints about you.

Breathe, you had to tell yourself. It's not worth it. Where was everyone else anyway? You couldn't believe that you were left completely alone to operate the establishment on your own. And most of your coworkers were older than you anyway. Those bums!

You sucked in another breath, putting on your best smile.

"You're telling me that you don't actually have the limited-edition unicorn flavor?!" an angry father crossed his arms, upset with his children cowering beside him.

"No, sir," you said as politely as you could. "That was just a rumor. My apologies for the inconven—"

"Unacceptable!"

You winced, feeling your ears warm up. If everyone in the parlor wasn't already watching you like a hawk, all eyes were now on you.

"I had to drive two hours here," the father slammed his hand on the counter, leaning in so close that you could smell him. "I drove two hours here for unicorn ice cream and you're telling me that it was all a lie?!"

All of this.... for ice cream?"

"I apologize, sir," you hung your head low to appear genuine, clasping your hands together. "That must have been a long ride and—"

"Shut up and give me my ice cream, you bi—" Your eyes widened a fraction as you saw a big palm swinging your way... Was he about to slap you? In the milliseconds that you could even react, you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the stinging feeling of a hand against your cheek.

But instead, you felt nothing, only the sound of a few gasps and light chuckling.

"Hey, there, sir," you heard Jake's voice as you peeled your eyes open.

Jake was beside you, his hand wrapped around the man's wrist that was mere inches away from your face.

"J-Jake?!"

The man struggled in Jake's grip, attempting (and failing horribly) to pull his wrist out of Jake's hand.

"Let go of me, boy!" he yelled. Everyone's eyes were on the scene now. How embarrassing.

Jake narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip.

"Here at Layla's Ice Cream Parlor, we reserve the right to deny any patron service," he said plainly.

The man scoffed. "And are you about to deny me service? What are you, the manager?"

Jake only shook his head calmly.

"You were about to assault my coworker here," he motioned toward you, then to the man's still-raised hand. "I don't need to be any manager to realize that someone of that sort has no business here."

Jake shot him a smile, before roughly letting go of his wrist, letting it fall to the counter.

"Please leave, sir."

He glanced around the room, noticing the way everyone stared at him. Another tight-lipped smile spread on his face.

"There are no limited-edition summer flavors, so if that is what you are here for, I apologize for the disappointment. " Jake glanced at you. "Please help yourself to the flavors that we actually have."

With that, Jake took you by the wrist, pulling you into the breakroom.

"W-Wait Jake—!" you tried to pull out of his grasp. "There's still customers out there."

He gently pushed you down onto a chair.

Jake crouched down at your sitting figure, putting his hands on your knees. He squeezed them playfully. "You've done enough today. I'll handle the rest."

"But— But there's a lot of people today," you reasoned, placing your hands on his. "You can't run the entire place on your own...!"

But before the last syllables could even leave your lips, Jake was already retying his apron, fixing his dumb uniform hat. Before he slinked away through the door, he glanced over his shoulder, gripping the door frame.

"I'll prove you wrong," he said with a grin. "Just watch."

(You were right, he was wrong. Not even the most exemplary worker like Jake could handle an entire exuberant ice cream parlor by himself. The moment you saw his tired eyes you were already throwing on your apron. Though, you got a good laugh out of it afterwards.)

You deadpanned.

This was not what you signed up for.

It was Saturday, the day that you swore was your break day from work. And then all of a sudden you got an urgent call from your manager and you rushed to work immediately.

You thought that the parlor got robbed, or maybe something broke down.

Nope.

"You want me..." you blinked, "To wear that?!"

Lo and behold, before you was a comically large ice cream costume, with a brown waffled body for the cone and the most obnoxious white swirl reaching high in the ceiling, with only a circular cut-out to see your face.

Apparently, sales were dwindling, so your managers decided to try out some new advertising.

You were going to wear that godforsaken ice cream costume and hang outside the parlor to attract customers.

"Kid-friendly language only," your manager instructed you matter-of-factly. "No swearing, no saying mean words."

You tuned him out.

And if the walk of shame out of the bathroom in your ice cream costume wasn't bad enough, you were hit with the last thing you wanted to see: Jake Sim.

You were about to jump and shriek and let the ground open up and devour you whole... when you realized that he was wearing an ice cream costume too...!

"You too?!" you cried. Behold, in front of you stood your favorite coworker Jake Sim with an equally deadpan expression, clad in the ridiculous ice cream costume.

"Yup," Jake muttered, popping the p. "I guess we'll never be free."

And he was indeed correct.

There was truly nothing more mortifying than standing outside the damn ice cream parlor, holding an even more obnoxiously bright sign and trying to attract customers... all in your humiliating ice cream costume.

Kids laughed at you from across the street. Cars that passed by you probably did the same. Absolutely demoralizing.

"Come to Layla's Ice Cream Parlor," you said in a monotone voice, trying your very best to not burst into tears of sheer embarrassment. "We have ice cream... and... uh—"

You glanced at Jake, whispering to him, "What else do we have?"

"Ice cream." He said, absolutely no expression in his voice or face. Oh god, we must have lost him too! "Nothing but ice cream."

Poor guy, he looked like he wanted to disappear.

This must have been a punishment, or something. Maybe a humiliation ritual. But after a good ten minutes, you and Jake just decided to commit to the bit. After all, you were getting paid extra for this.

"Ice cream, ice cream!" you and Jake chanted as you paraded around the vicinity of the parlor. After all, there was nothing you could do but make the best of it. You went out of your way to speak to oncoming customers, advertising with the most energy you could. "Come to Layla's Ice Cream!"

But it wasn't always easy.

Like always, customers and children were rude.

"Hello, miss, are you interested in trying some of Layla's yummy yummy ice cre—" and then you got laughed at. Like actually. They just started pointing and laughing at you. Like you were some freak.

And then Jake tried to square up some little kids a few times, it was a mess.

And finally, after what felt like years out there trying to advertise to people, your manager finally called you guys back in. Apparently, you and Jake did such a wonderful job that you guys were needed back at the front. Your coworkers couldn't seem to keep up. Lazy asses.

You and Jake went back inside to change back into your work uniforms— those stupid blue and white sailor uniforms. Except, one of your coworkers was having an "emergency" in the staff bathroom (you were certain it was just Beomgyu sitting on the toilet with his phone and refusing to do his job), so both you and Jake had to change in the staff break room.

At the same time.

"Okay, you will change, and I will cover you—"

"Shut up!" you exclaimed. "Why can't we just change at the same time?"

Jake was being terribly awkward about it.

"B-Because!" he reasoned, unable to hide the way he couldn't look you in the eye. "Because.... you're a girl, and I'm a guy!"

"Aaaaand?" you drew out your syllables, crossing your arms over your chest.

"We can't possibly change in the same room?" Jake cried. "What if— What if I accidentally see your—"

Your cheeks warmed up. What was he on about? "You're not going to!"

Your boss was really annoying about punctuality, so you and Jake should probably change quickly anyway. You ignored Jake's fussing, raising your arms as you began to pull your shirt over your head.

"What are you—"

"Just change!"

In the end, you guys just did the easiest option: turning around so that you faced opposite directions while the other changed... which should have been intuitive for Jake (but he's a little slow).

When you two were both done changing, you turned back around to face Jake, about to let out your grievances about working.

Except, when you saw him, you couldn't help but let out a giggle.

Because your work uniform was supposed to resemble that of a sailor, there were a few complex pieces, such as the sailor scarf draped over your shoulders and neck. Usually, you need a mirror to tie it properly. There was also the damn paper sailor hat that you had to wear.

Since you weren't changing in the bathroom, there was no mirror, so poor Jake's hat and tie were sloppily done, crooked on his person.

"Jake," you smiled, motioning for him to come toward you. And when he was close enough, you yanked him even closer to you by his shoulders, causing him to let out a yelp.

"W-What are you doing?" he asked, unable to hide the panic in his voice.

You giggled again. Your hands began to work on his tie, undoing his sloppy tie and neatly folding it. "Relax, you big baby."

When you were done with his tie, you fixed Jake's hat, oblivious to the way Jake's ears and neck turned a noticeable shade of red.

"There you go," you said with a grin. "All good!"

Jake looked at you with shaky eyes. You were close to him now. Close enough that he could feel your breath fanning his cheeks. Close enough that if he just leaned in a bit more, he could kiss you— Jake jerked himself away from you abruptly. His heart was pounding in his chest at an abnormal rate.

Don't think about kissing her when she's right in front of you! he scolded himself. You gave him a questioning look, before you just grinned again and left the break room.

Ah, Jake was going crazy.

Man, fuck you Beomgyu! you mentally cursed your other coworker. You were absolutely correct; earlier he was indeed hogging the staff bathroom so that he could shirk his responsibilities. According to Jake, Beomgyu did this really often, to the point that the staff bathroom ran out of soap too fast because Beomgyu was busy playing with soap and making dumb ass bubbles in there.

Of all times, it had to be now that the staff bathroom just decided to run out of soap?

It was getting late, so your manager told you to start cleaning. And just as you began, some little unsupervised middle schooler skateboarded right into you, spilling his three scoops of chocolate ice cream with layers of caramel and peanut butter sauce all over your white uniform.

And all you were given were a few measly napkins to wipe but the sticky sweet mess, only after you cleaned up the mess on the floor. Now as you desperately tried to clean the mess off your uniform in the staff bathroom, you were certain that your manager was going to yell at you later.

As you reached for another hand towel from the dispenser, you let out a groan as you realized that there were no more. Seriously, what was Beomgyu doing in here that he just used up all the soap and paper towels?

"[Name]," you heard a knock on the door. It was Jake. "You good in there?"

You groaned again.

"No!" you cried from the other side of the door. You were frustrated, how bothersome! Even if there were more paper towels, there still was a giant brown stain on your shirt. And you'd probably have to get another uniform. "It looks like a shit stain!"

You heard Jake chuckle from the other side of the door, before his footsteps retreated. After a few minutes, Jake came back.

"Can I come in?" he asked, knocking again on the bathroom door.

"Door's unlocked."

Except, instead of seeing Jake in his usual work uniform, he had a big black hoodie thrown over him, probably one that he was wearing before he changed into his uniform earlier. In his hands was a white shirt.

"Wear this," he said as he shoved the white shirt into your hands.

It was his own uniform shirt.

"But—" you tried to reason with him, but he put his hand up, silencing you.

"Can't have you walking around with a shit stain on your shirt," he said with a cheeky grin, earning him a slap on the arm.

"But you'll get in trouble," you breathed. Your manager was really particular about workers wearing uniforms, and for some reason not about workers actually doing their job.

Jake shrugged. "It's about time I did." And flashed you another smile. "And plus, I was going to get in trouble anyway. Apparently, defending my coworker from a rude customer is punishable."

Ah, the unicorn ice cream incident from a few weeks ago.

Was he really that willing to get in trouble for you?

As you closed the door to the bathroom, you could already hear your manager and another coworker making their comments about Jake. Although you couldn't exactly hear what they were saying, it must have been the usual remarks about inefficiency. And probably about how he wasn't wearing work-appropriate clothes.

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you listened to their muffled voices.

Jake was really getting in trouble all for your sake.

As you buttoned up his white shirt, you noted that it carried the scent of his cologne. It smelled good, and you instinctively brought the sleeve up to your nose to catch a better whiff. But then you felt weird and stopped immediately.

It wasn't fair. Everything about your job.

You and Jake had to do all the work, but even so, the managers were disproportionately harsher with Jake than they were with you. Probably because of some sexist bullshit.

And then there were rude and entitled customers.

Jake was taking the fall for you too much.

And you couldn't keep letting it happen.

As you made your way out of the staff bathroom, you could hear your manager berating Jake, with another coworker joining in.

"And why are you not in our employee dress code?" your manager chided. "This is unacceptable! A hoodie? What do you think will happen to our store's brand?"

Jake just hung his head low, but you could tell he was annoyed more than anything. "It was because [Name]'s shirt got ruined, and she was uncomfortable."

"And what business do you have with [Name]?" your coworker joined in lambasting the poor Jake.

"Look, man," Jake looked up at them. "I was just helpin' her out." Jake paused for a moment. "And plus it's closing hours anyway. It's not like anyone sees me out of uniform."

Your manager and coworker thought for a few moments, before your coworker said, "Well, you're still causing a hindrance for our parlor. I think we will cut you weekly pay—"

His weekly pay? Ridiculous. Your body moved on its own, and before you knew it, you had bursted through the door.

"I-It was my fault!" you blurted, your lips moving faster than you could think. "Jake was just helping me."

You ignored the way Jake looked at you with eyes big as saucers, surprised. You swiped your tongue over your lip. "I-It's really my fault. If there's anyone that should get their weekly pay cut, it should be me."

Jake's face visibly contorted, his brows crashing together. "[Name]—"

"That's enough," your manager finally spoke up. The older man sighed, before checking his wrist watch. "Jake, [Name], just forget about it. Don't make this mistake again. Just close up for the night."

And with that, you and Jake were left alone once more.

"What was that all about?" Jake asked you as the two of you closed up.

"What was what?"

Jake huffed, leaning on the mop. "You know, what happened earlier about uniforms?"

"Oh." You shrugged, not really paying him any mind. "What about it?"

Jake huffed again. "Y'know... Why did you step in?"

You finally looked at him, before blinking a few times. "Isn’t it obvious?"

Jake smiled. "No, that’s why I’m asking you."

You scoffed playfully. "Okay, smartass."

You paused for a few moments. "You’re my friend, Jake. You’ve protected me in the past, so I'm just returning the favor."

"Thank you," Jake replied, unable to hide the smile growing on his face. "That's very kind of you.

You just hummed in response, going back to cleaning up.

Jake teetered on his feet, back and forth, as he played with his fingers. His heart pounding in his chest, Jake chewed on his bottom lip.

He was nervous.

Just this morning, you texted him if he wanted to hang out with you, because as you said, you were bored.

Hanging out? With you? The hottest girl that he's ever seen? There was no way in hell that he'd say no to such a golden opportunity.

You'd told Jake to meet you at the pier, because there was a nice mall area around there. As you relayed in your texts, you were going on vacation in a few weeks, and needed to go shopping for it.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't have any ulterior motives. You weren't really sure how you felt about Jake. He was cute, and sweet, and you definitely wanted to get to know him better. And there was a part of you that desperately wanted to impress him.

Maybe today could be an opportunity for you.

You checked your reflection in the car window before you got out of your mom's car. Muttering a "bye," you made your way toward where you told Jake to meet you.

It was a sunny day. You chose to wear something breathable, a pretty pink sundress with a cardigan. You didn't dress like this on most days. You liked to opt for dark colors, but today you wanted to be... cute.

Pretty for Jake.

You spotted Jake pretty easily. Not because he had anything that made him physically easy to identify, not at all. It was more like... you simply could just spot him. It was like you had a newfound Jake-radar.

"Hi," you said with a smile. And for some reason, it seemed like Jake was startled, with his eyes widening as he caught sight of you. "Are you okay?"

Jake stared at you for a few moments, and you swore you saw the way his eyes looked you up and down. His lips parted, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he swiped his tongue over his lips.

You felt a twinge of embarrassment. You didn't wear light colors normally, was it obvious that this dress was not something that you usually wear? Did you look strange? Maybe you should've worn your typical black clothing, and—

"N-No," Jake stammered, his eyes still looking you up and down. Truth be told, he had to bite back a "damn." Because yes, damn, you looked hot. "You look— You look nice today."

Your cheeks prickled with warmth. "Oh. Thank you."

"You don't..." Jake continued, as if he was on autopilot. You were beginning to feel really shy when you realized that he was really staring at your chest area. "You don't wear pink often, do you?"

You averted your gaze. "You're right, I don't." How embarrassing! So he notices the things you wear... and he probably 100% knows that you don't wear pink at all. "Does it look weird, or—"

"No!" Jake blurted, before catching himself. He cleared his throat, his ears a warm shade of pink. "Not at all. I really, uh, meant it when I said— When I said you looked nice."

You nodded slowly. Was it normal to feel so warm? Maybe you should check the weather again?

"Really nice," Jake echoed himself. If you weren't busy feeling shy yourself, you would have noticed Jake checking you out for the 50th time already.

You murmured a brief "thanks," before you quickly changed the subject.

"Shall we go?"

It was unusual to feel awkward or shy around Jake, and vice versa. You knew for sure that Jake was a special person, but it never affected you. For Jake, he was determined to be calm and nonchalant when it came to you. And plus, your friendship was always casual anyway.

Which was why all of your shyness dissipated pretty quickly.

You took Jake along to all the spots at the pier's mall area.

"What are you looking for?" Jake asked as he trailed after you. Jake will never understand women. You've been to 4 stores already, and all you've done is touch things and say, 'Oh this is cute.' And then you'd leave.

You shrugged. "Cute things for vacation."

Jake looked around, through the store mirrors as you two traversed the mall area. "Any preferences?"

You shrugged again. "I like dark colors, but I don't mind brighter colors for vacation, yaknow?"

Jake hummed.

The two of you walked around for a little longer until you stopped in front of a store.

"What's this?" Jake asked.

You grinned. "A swimsuit store."

Listen, Jake wouldn't consider himself an easily-excitable guy. He wasn't pervy, either. Especially toward you! He was nonchalant!

But as he entered the girly swimsuit store, he couldn't help but redden at the thought of you in some of these swimsuits. Some of them were provocative and cheeky, making Jake's stomach do flips as his mind crept into places that made it hard for him to make eye contact with you. Other ones were cute and frilly, arguably making Jake's heart pound even faster as he imagined you in them.

"Hey, what do you think about this one?" you asked Jake as you took one of the suits off the rack.

On the inside, Jake was already drooling at the thought. But on the outside he simply nodded, giving a playful smile and a thumbs up. And really, he thought that if he could maintain that attitude for the rest of the time in this swimsuit store, he'd be fine.

But he was wrong.

"Okay, I'm gonna try these on, and I'll have you give me feedback."

What.

What?

And so Jake sat in the couches in front of the changing rooms, simply awaiting his death.

He's not weird, he swears. He doesn't want to be creepy or gross toward you.

But how could he not sweat and basically hyperventilate in these changing rooms when the hottest girl that he's ever seen (you) is about to ask him for his opinion on swimsuits?

Jake was certain that no matter what, you would look hot.

And he was proven correct when you slipped out of the changing rooms.

"Okay, first one," you said, in a voice that was a little too relaxed. You went on your tiptoes, doing a few turns here and there so that Jake could see the full extent of the suit on you. "What do you think?"

And oh.

Good lord.

Jake was really trying his best not to make you uncomfortable.

But there was absolutely no way that he could just sit there and not react. His jaw quite literally dropped the moment he saw you.

The way the suit hugged your body, the way the colors illuminated your skin, the way you were 100% feeling yourself in it— All of it was making Jake 2 seconds away from crashing out.

You must have been a goddess. Or maybe Jake saved a country in his past life.

"It looks— You look— I— You—" he stumbled over his words. There were no words to describe how you looked. You looked downright beautiful. Like, if Jake died now he wouldn't mind. And when you giggled at his reaction, he took a deep breath. Don't be a weirdo! he told himself.

"You look beautiful," he breathed, finally catching himself. His eyes flickered back up to your pretty, pretty face. "You look really beautiful in this one."

"Thank you," you smiled at him. You did another twirl, something that you definitely knew drove him crazy. And if you hadn't noticed him checking you out, Jake was certain that you definitely knew now.

And maybe Jake didn't know enough about women. Because he really believed that that one swimsuit was the only one that you were trying on.

And he was so wrong.

Because there were at least 3 more that you wanted to show him!

Oh, he wasn't going to survive this.

Well, Jake did survive.

After insisting on carrying your shopping bag full of your new swimsuits (Jake didn't dare peek inside because he thought he'd combust), you decided to do some more exploring.

You got some food to munch on, and went to all types of stores. And you took many pictures, too! Pictures together, of you trying on hats and sunglasses. Candid pictures of each other, many of which where you look pretty without even trying and Jake's mind is blown.

More exploring, walking, sitting down, walking, and then sitting for 30 minutes because both of your feet hurt. A lot of laughing, a lot of dumb conversations, and even more laughing.

And before you knew it, it was getting dark out. Suddenly, the sound of the waves crashing filled the air, the cool beach wind blowing against your cheeks. 

"Let's go walk along the shore!"

And so you did.

The orange sky was fading into a dark blue, and yet, the sun still shone so brightly as it submerged into the horizon. The water gently rocked against the shoreline, while the scent of sea salt and seaweed filled your senses.

It was a cool evening, and you tugged on the sleeves of your cardigan to warm your cold hands.

By now, the beach was quiet. Many people had already left, as it was slowly becoming nighttime.

In quiet moments like this, you couldn't help but fully conceptualize Jake as a person.

He was a handsome boy your age. He was kind, sweet, responsible, silly, everything great in a person. And he had a similar music taste to you, too. And here he was, walking alongside you as the sun set.

Your eyes fluttered over to him. His eyes were trained on the sand below his feet, appreciating the way the wet granules covered his skin.

He was a straightforward person. Things went from A to B with him easily. No games, nothing to hide. And yet, you felt like there was so much to discover about him. There was an entire world undiscovered in his head. And you wanted to be a part of it.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked suddenly, interrupting the calm silence.

"You."

.

.

.

You?

You could feel your heart picking up speed, but you kept your composure. Meanwhile, you swore your skin was prickling with an uncharacteristic warmth.

"I-I mean—" Jake seemed to snap out of his daze. "I— I was just thinking about you, and work, and summer, and—"

You blinked, but your lips spread into a tight smile. You didn't know why you felt disappointed.

You sucked in a breath. "The water's really nice tonight."

"Mhm," Jake agreed. He wasn't blind. He could see the way your face fell ever so slightly. He could see when you felt flustered or shy because of him.

But what if he was misinterpreting things? What if his eyes were playing tricks on him?

But then you'd look up at him with those shiny eyes, almost like you were begging him to give you his heart.

Just go for it.

His eyes dropped to your hands, which were still tugging on your sleeves to keep warm.

Jake clicked his tongue. Boldly, he grabbed your hands, clasping them in yours.

"Hey!" you cried.

"Geez, your hands are so cold," he murmured, before locking his fingers with one of your hands. As if nothing happened, Jake just continued walking along the shore, this time with your hand in his.

You stared at your interlocked fingers for a few moments, before you swallowed all of your shyness and continued trailing with him.

The two of you returned to walking in silence, nothing but the sound of the water and your breaths filling the air.

Jake wasn't lying when he said he was thinking of you, because he really. He always was. And just as he was about to fall back into thought, your hand pulled away from his.

With curious eyes, Jake watched as you silently pulled out a tiny plastic case from your purse.

Your earbuds.

You plugged them into your phone, before jamming one of the buds into your own ear. You looked at Jake expectantly, and he took the second earbud graciously.

You bit back a laugh as you turned on your music.

The second you pressed 'play,' a hardy bass and an unforgettable drumline played into your ears.

"Are you serious?" Jake immediately snapped his head at you. "Fleetwood Mac?!"

You laughed, throwing your head back. "I wasn't about to let you ruin the beach vibe and play Bon Jovi."

"I don't only listen to Bon Jovi—!"

And just as you and Jake were enjoying music, the beach, and most importantly, each other, Jake's phone rang. And of course, his ringtone was a Bon Jovi song.

You gave him a look as his lips spread into a goofy smile.

Not daring to tear out the earbud, he picked up his phone and listened with his other ear.

And even though it was nearly nighttime by now, you could still see how Jake's face morphed.

When he hung up, his face dropped.

"They need me to take someone's shift."

Oh.

This was really, very, genuinely, seriously annoying.

Because unfortunately, the truth was that if they needed Jake to work, then they probably needed you to work too.

Because they always needed you and Jake to work.

And so, here your (not-so official) date was ending.

Apparently, it was extremely urgent, and they insisted on paying Jake extra if he came. Not to worry, because he texted your manager to make sure that you'd get extra pay if you came along, too.

The moment that you stepped into the parlor, you could feel all the joy leaving your body. You swore that Layla’s Ice Cream Parlor had evil spirits in there, designed specifically to simply fill your body with dread.

You put on one of the spare work uniforms that the parlor had in the back. It was a little big, and a little itchy, but whatever.

When Jake got the phone call and explained to you the situation, you were fully expecting a packed parlor, with a line that went out the door and your incompetent coworkers couldn't handle it, or something. But now that you were in the parlor, you realized that that was just a load of bullshit.

"Empty," Jake muttered behind you. "There is absolutely no one here."

You hummed in agreement, equally deadpan.

Those lazy bums.

They just didn't want to work the closing shift. They just didn't want to do the cleaning or locking up. They just wanted you to take their shifts so that they could go home and relax.

And so here you two were, just lazing around in the breakroom, just trying to pass the time. You let your phone play some random playlist.

"I'm sorry," Jake said, with his cheek pressed against the breakroom table. "We were hanging out and I decided to take us to work."

"Nah, you're justified," you said lazily. "They're promising us extra pay, so it's fine."

The room went silent again, but you could tell Jake was thinking something. And indeed, he was.

Jake felt horrible! Although you did agree to come to work with him, he still felt back. Did he just fumble your first (unofficial) date? God, he's so stupid! Now you two were stuck in the worst place on earth.

He stared at your bored expression.

He couldn't let you stay bored.

Without a word, he got up from his seat in the breakroom and disappeared out to the front. You could hear some cluttering and buzzing.

"Close your eyes!" he yelled before he came back to where you were in the breakroom. And you complied.

"What are you doing, Jake?" you asked, but you couldn't help but smile. He was definitely up to some antics.

"Just close your eyes," he instructed you, before sitting down with you at the breakroom table again.

Jake clasped his hands together. "I have three cups of ice cream here. You will close your eyes and guess which one is which."

You let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you serious?"

"Yes!" Jake laughed. "We can't get bored in here."

You chuckled. "Okay, fine."

Jake watched you intently as he spoon-fed you the first spoonful of ice cream.

The first flavor was strawberry, your personal favorite.

Maybe it was getting late, or maybe Jake was just too obsessed with you, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the way your pretty lips opened up for the ice cream. He was simply so mesmerized by the way you licked your lips, relishing in the way the sweet strawberry ice cream melted on your tastebuds.

"This is so obvious," you nudged him, kicking him from under the table. "At least make it hard for me!"

Jake rolled his eyes playfully. "Just guess!"

You huffed, mumbling something about him being stupid under your breath. "Strawberry. Duh."

"Woo hoo!" Jake cheered for you. "It was strawberry!"

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock."

The second flavor was ube. Which you guessed almost immediately.

"Next flavor, please," you giggled. "This game is too easy,"

But Jake wasn't listening to you in the slightest.

Just why did you have to start licking the spoon clean? The way your glossy lips wrapped around the spoon, your tongue wrapping around the smooth plastic, and now he was feeling all types of things, and—

"Seriously, make it harder for me!"

Jake gulped.

The last flavor he had was salted caramel. His own personal favorite.

He'd already taken a few bites out of it.

He glanced at your lips, then down at the salted caramel ice cream.

Even under the corporate light of the break room, you still glowed so prettily. And you must have been doing it on purpose, the way you were keeping the spoon in your mouth, with your lips wrapped around it so prettily.

Jake's eyes flickered back to your lips once more, then to the salted caramel ice cream.

His heart was already pounding in his chest. All the blood was rushing to his head and Jake thought that he'd faint.

Your lips were just so damn pretty.

It seemed like something was possessing Jake's body. While his mind was frozen on your lips, his body was moving on its own.

He reached out for you first, his large hand taking solace on your shoulder.

And in one, fluid motion, Jake leaned in, and closed the gap between his lips and yours.

Your lips were soft and sweet, like clouds. Jake's eyes had unconsciously fallen shut, and the moment that he realized that he was kissing you, they shot open. However, just as he was about to pull away, because oh my god he was kissing you, and he didn't even ask!, Jake felt your hand slither up around his neck.

You pulled him in even closer, deepening the kiss.

Jake felt dizzy. It was the way your tongue dipped into his mouth when he let out a little gasp. Or maybe it was the way your fingers ran through his hair, almost as if you were desperate to keep his lips on yours. Your everything— your hands, your lips, your scent— they were all driving him insane.

Jake didn't want it to end, and if it weren't for his need for air, he wouldn't have pulled away. Ever.

The two of you sat there, breathless, staring into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. Jake's cheeks were red, his pupils blown out with desire. His eyes fell down to your lips.

"Salted caramel," you breathed, your hands sliding down to his shoulders. You squeezed his shoulders. "You taste like salted caramel— kiss me if that's the answer—"

And you didn't need to ask him twice, because Jake was already crashing his lips against yours.

There was something so addictive about your lips. The way you moaned against his lips, the way you clung onto him like you needed him, it was all driving him crazy.

Jake needed more, he needed you.

In his head, it was all just you, you, you.

"I want you so bad," Jake mumbled against your lips. "Please."

He could feel you giggle, but he simply just slides his hand around your waist to pull you closer.

Your lips moved against his in ways that were too perfect to be real. Jake felt like he was in heaven. You were heaven. You were angelic, you were godly, you were—

"Um, excuse me, are you guys still open?"

!!!

You and Jake jumped away from each other.

Shit.

It was still store hours.

"Are we going to get fired?"

Now it was actually closing hours.

You and Jake started cleaning after you were so rudely interrupted, and now it was time to close up.

And it was awkward.

Your heart was practically leaping out of your chest. It felt like forever since you shared your kisses with Jake. And now, you craved his lips once more.

But what if it was just on the whim? What if Jake just did it to do it?

You just wanted him so bad. You wanted to kiss him again, you wanted to feel him again.

"For what?"

You shifted uncomfortably, your eyes refusing to meet Jake's.

"Kissing coworkers."

"No!" Jake's cheeks flared up. "Of course not!"

"Then..." your brows furrowed. Your face felt hot to the touch. You felt like you were going to get a heart attack. Seriously, you felt like you were burning up, all the while you felt frozen in time and space. You slowly looked up at Jake. "Then can we... you know... keep doing it?"

.

.

.

"I— I mean, if you don't mind— and if it's not something that we could get fired for—" you stammered— "Then can we... you know— can we keep kissing?"

Jake was already on it.

“Eek, Jake, lock the doors first!”

After a few more weeks of hiding in the storage closet to makeout, and honestly straight up shirking your responsibilities to kiss in the breakroom, you and Jake did the unthinkable.

"We resign!"

Your manager looked at you incredulously. "W-What?"

You and Jake smiled. "We quit."

You've never felt more free. With your boyfriend at your side, it seemed like the summer was endless.

BONUS

"Did I ever tell you that I liked you?" you asked Jake, in his car just moments after you quit your job.

"I don't think you did, babe," Jake laughed.

"Oh."

You should probably put that on your to-do list.

You glanced at your boyfriend. How his lips looked so kissable.

Sigh. You'll tell him what you like later. It's time to kiss!

note: please reblog n comment if you enjoyed! xoxo vanya >_<

[ateez-himari]

J-HOPE DISCHARGE CEREMONY

Jin brought an unexpected guest to celebrate his bandmate's military discharge

October 17, 2024 (8:41PM)

J-Hope enlisted in mandatory military service on April 18th last year and was finally discharged today after completing his eighteen months of duty holding not only the rank of Corporal, but the title of Special Class (Elite) Warrior as well. Unfortunately the only member present at the site, as announced by BigHit days prior, was the group's eldest, Jin, who completed his own service earlier this year, along with Suga's younger sister, ATEEZ lead vocalist Himari.

While people have just now begun uncovering the closeness between these artists, what happened during the ceremony solidified any findings circulating through social media platforms as the seniors beckoned the young woman to celebrate with them. When the rapper stepped out with a large bouquet in hand, those present at the scene believed the flowers to have been offered as a congratulatory gift by those stationed alongside him until he handed them to her.

Widely known to be rather soft hearted it was no surprise when the maknae was caught tearing up when sharing a tight embrace with him, and those watching what little clips were uploaded from the live stream reportedly got sentimental alongside them. J-Hope himself was seemingly attempting to hold back the wave of emotions that came with seeing her after so long, and although he did not touch on their reunion much during the Weverse live, the reason behind the flowers was finally revealed.

"I couldn't properly celebrate her debut as a fashion designer, or her surpassing 200 KOMCA credits...I missed a few milestones for her career so I wanted to let her know that I was watching and that I'm proud of everything she's done."

Himari was clearly overjoyed at the mere fact that her senior had returned and posted some heartwarming pictures to her personal Instagram account's story, showing what the two got up to prior to her attendance at the Elle Style Awards that evening;

Photo Source; @/min.himeeee on Instagram

Translation; 'Thank you oppa' - 'I missed you'

Even amongst so much happiness some keen eyed netizens noticed the vocalist hopefully searching the military base's grounds in hopes of seeing her older brother - which the rapper confirmed later that evening saying she did not get the notice posted by the company and thought they would get a chance to reunite shortly. Atiny were able to find some sense of relief for their maknae as he closed off this personal topic by promising that until they could be with one another again, the two discharged members would make sure to support and care for her like he would and would not fail to continue afterwards.

On this note; Welcome back J-Hope! 💜

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[coochiequeens]

Another example of someone facing possible fines or even prison over expressing gender critical views, in this case questioning the impact of letting men on hormones "breastfeed" on the babies being fed the chemical cocktail.

By Reduxx Team December 6, 2024

A gender critical activist in Iceland is under police investigation for seven posts he made to Facebook and X in which he criticized male breastfeeding and teaching “gender diversity” to children. Eldur Kristinsson, who also stood candidate in the recent Icelandic elections, informed Reduxx that he was reported to police by a LGBT rights organization that has accused him of violating the country’s hate speech laws.

Kristinsson is the chairman of Samtökin 22, a gender critical organization that supports single-sex spaces and opposes the medical transitioning of children. In the recent Icelandic parliamentary elections, which took place on November 30, Kristinsson stood as a candidate in the centre-right Democratic Party for the Northwest constituency.

During the election cycle, RÚV, the Icelandic National Broadcasting Service, ran an interview with the leader of the Democratic Party, Arnar Þór Jónsson. During the episode, the interviewer interrogated Jónsson on Kristinsson’s membership, and repeated an unsubstantiated claim that Kristinsson had once been removed from a school by police for making rude comments about a transgender person’s genitals and photographing pupils and staff. Speaking to Reduxx, Kristinsson noted that not only were the claims completely false, but that the state broadcaster had refused to issue an apology beyond affixing a small “correction” to their coverage.

In an effort to further prove RÚV‘s comments defamatory, Kristinsson went to his local police station to request a copy of his record to prove he’d never had any interactions with police beyond a 2001 speeding ticket. It was at this time he learned he was under investigation for hate speech.

Within 24 hours of visiting the police station, Kristinsson was told he would be required to submit to a criminal investigation surrounding social media posts he had made criticizing gender ideology. The investigation had been launched after Samtökin 78, a member organization of the International Lesbian Gay Bisexual Trans and Intersex Association, had filed a formal complaint against him.

In total, seven of Kristinsson’s posts dating back to November of 2022 were under investigation. Kristinsson provided Reduxx with a copy of the complaint Samtökin 78 had filed, which listed the dates and text of the posts they believed violated Article 233 of the Icelandic Criminal Code.

Some of the comments made by Kristinsson that are currently under criminal investigation. Document translated to English from the original Icelandic by Reduxx.

Among them were a comment Kristinsson made about Pride Month, in which he wrote that corporations “alter their logos to appease all the little führers in the cult of validation and we will hear nothing else than trans, trans, trans, translesbians, girl dick this and that.”

In another comment, Kristinsson noted that some trans-identified males have autogynephilia – in which males are sexually aroused at the thought of themselves as women. Further posts include Kristinsson saying that “people who give birth to children are called women,” and suggesting that Samtökin 78 was “grooming 10-year-old kids in the 5th grade.” The group’s activities have included lecturing on “gender diversity” to children of that age in Iceland’s elementary schools.

Two of the seven posts which were reported to police involve Kristinsson condemning news outlets promoting trans-identified males who induced lactation for the purposes of “breastfeeding” children.

Two of the posts under investigation.

In their complaint to police, Samtökin 78 said that Kristinsson “actively participated in criminal hate propaganda against gay people because of their gender characteristics and/or gender identity,” and that he should be “charged and sentenced to punishment for that behavior according to the law.”

Because his comments were “serious, grossly hurtful and prejudicial,” the group claims that they “cannot be considered to add anything relevant to the social debate,” and therefore would not be protected under freedom of expression. If found guilty under Article 233 of Iceland’s hate speech laws, Kristinsson could face either a fine or up to two years in prison.

In a statement on the lawsuit given to Visir News, Bjarndís Helga Tómasdóttir of Samtökin 78 said the organization “will not sit by idly while individuals continue to perpetuate lies about queer people and trans people.”

Tómasdóttir continued: “He claimed in one comment that Samtökin 78 is grooming or seducing children. In other comments, he calls trans women pedophiles. We believe such comments are indefensible and simply endanger the safety of our staff, volunteers, and the entire queer community.” A second article published by Visir the following day claimed Kristinsson had a “long history of inflammatory remarks.”

Ironically, Samtökin 78 had previously come under fire after it was learned that one of its board members had been sexually harassing children.

As previously reported by Reduxx, Þórhildur Sara Sveinbjörnsdóttir, a trans-identified male who was chairman of the group’s Community Council, was forced to resign after allegations emerged that he had sexually harassed children online and raped a man with cognitive impairments.

According to the victim, Sveinbjörnsdóttir had asked him to come with him to the washroom, at which point Sveinbjörnsdóttir held him down and raped him orally and anally.

Sveinbjörnsdóttir was also accused of having inappropriate communications with children, with one young girl coming forward to allege that the man had sexually harassed her when she was just 13.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

G. Capuano at MMFA:

Univision’s elDetector project has worked for months to fact-check Donald Trump’s dangerous lies about abortion, immigration, and the January 6 insurrection. During an October 16 Televisa Univision town hall with the former president, journalist Enrique Acevedo — who in 2023 faced criticism for his interview with Trump — will also have the chance to push back against Trump's misinformation by fact-checking the GOP presidential candidate in real time. 

The event will also be an opportunity for Univision to restore trust among its viewers after concerns that the network’s corporate owners, Televisa Univision, have made attempts to become friendly with the former president, with whom the network had cut business ties in 2016 after a series of racist remarks against Mexicans. In 2023, the Washington Post reported that “Trump is treating Univision and its new corporate owners like long-lost friends” and that “he hosted a trio of its executives at Mar-a-Lago” during his interview with Acevedo.   The town hall will broadcast out of Miami and will be followed by a dueling town hall with Vice President Kamala Harris on Thursday, October 10. Univision and its streaming service ViX will air the town halls with a Spanish translation, with the full English-language version available on the Noticias Univision YouTube channel.

[...]

Univision’s elDetector has fact-checked Trump before

Univision’s elDetector, an online Spanish-language fact-checking project launched ahead of the 2016 presidential election, has spent the last several months pushing back against Trump’s anti-immigrant rhetoric, his false and racist attacks against Harris’ identity, his fearmongering about Democrats’ position on abortion, and his distortions about the January 6 insurrection. 

Univision has an impeccable record of fact-checking Donald Trump. Will they do so at the town hall?

[torukmaktoskxawng]

tsamsiyu ta'em - prologue

Masterlist - part one

Summary: Corporal Makayla Sully believed she was the last of her family. Her parents were long gone, her brother Tom was killed for his wallet, and his twin Jake abandoned her in exchange for the sunny paradise Pandora. Kayla is informed of Jake's passing and so she decides to take a job opportunity with General Frances Ardmore. She hitches a ride to Pandora with the intent of recovering her brother's remains, twenty years since the last time she's seen him. Instead of a box of bones or ash, however, she's given something she thought she lost a long time ago.

Pairing: Ronal/Tonowari/Original Female Character

Tag: #tsamsiyu ta'em fic

Word Count: 1k+

posted on ao3

Taglist: @mooniequeen

Warnings: canon-compliant, canon-typical violence, mature language, adult content, slow burn, polyamory, found family, cool aunt agenda, alien/human (technically avatar), jake sully sister agenda, time skips, I'm trying to hurry up and get to the good parts so bear with me, fluff, angst, adopted spider, tags to be added

A/N: The title loosely translates from "warrior from above" in Na'vi

EARTH, OVER TWENTY YEARS AGO...

It's like a switch turned off in his head.

One minute he's drinking and actually enjoying life for once, the next he's thrown out of the bar and had been told his twin brother was dead. Seeing Tommy's body numbed everything, sobering Jake up before he even had a chance to puke the stuff out. It's one thing for his legs to stop working, it's another for his emotions to stop as well. The man barely said a word or even composed a proper emotion during the whole funeral process. After watching his brother's body being cremated, he hadn't been angry or even devastated by the loss. There wasn't a single tear shed on Jake's behalf during the service, his mind droning out the words exchanged and the condolences given.

Now, he sat in his wheelchair, staring out the window of his sister's crammed two-room apartment, not far down the road from his own living space. His hair was long and unkept with the idea of shaving it all off tomorrow, the dress jacket he had worn for the service now tossed to the couch behind him. The shaggy, old apartment didn't have much for lights, least of all a view, the only green to be seen being the lights of signs indicating a restaurant or a dollar store right outside. The familiar sound of ice clinking softly together in a glass could be heard behind him, along with a woman's voice.

"Jake? Jake."

"Hm."

The woman's voice drew closer as she crossed the room to him, "I found a job opening down the street. 'Pay is good. Thought we might check it out together?"

Looking up, Jake is met with a small glass with about a couple gulps worth of whiskey in it, and two ice cubes to make up for the shitty water content. He glances up at his sister as she offers the glass to him and he eventually takes the drink but doesn't acknowledge her words. Kayla's head tilts to the side, studying his reaction before speaking again, "What is it?"

His jaw tightens, taking the time to stare down at his drink while he finds the words, "... I'm taking Tommy's job. I'm gonna be shipped out on a shuttle tomorrow afternoon. In about... six years, I'll be landing on Pandora."

"... Really."

"Money's good," he tries offering the bright side, despite his brooding behavior. He gulps back his entire drink with one tip back of his head, tolerating the burn of alcohol before setting the empty glass on the window sill, "And they need someone with Tommy's face and DNA in order to sync up with the avatar they designed for him. I'll be saving them millions of dollars."

He doesn't need to see her face to know that Kayla was trying to refrain from scowling, "You don't know a single thing about science. You're a war dog."

"Not anymore, clearly," Jake muttered while his hands touched the wheels of his chair.

"You know what I mean. I mean you barely passed high school--"

"'And Tommy passed with flying colors', yeah I know," he responds flatly, a bad taste starting to form in his mouth, "I've heard that plenty of times, trust me."

"Jake-- why are you telling me all this the night before you're meant to leave?"

He finally looks up at her. Plain-faced and pale, Kayla still had a shadow of youth in her eyes, with plenty of life ahead of her. She may not be a twin like Jake and Tommy, but she still bore the resemblance of a Sully. Narrow nose, thin lips, dull blue eyes, and a pointed chin, Jake's younger sister could easily be misinterpreted as his twin now that Tom was no longer around. The thought made his stomach clench and the taste in his mouth got worse.

"So you wouldn't be able to stop me."

She huffs, unimpressed as she took a long sip of her own beverage, "Well, at least you're honest when you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

"When are you not drunk these days?" She hissed, "Do you think those scientists will take on a drunk in the RDA or whatever-the-fuck it's called?"

"I'll sober up in my cryotube. I'll be clean in six years and it'll only feel like six hours for me. It's a win-win."

"You mean a win-win-lose because that still means leaving behind your only living family member. Whatever happened to 'Sullys stick together?'"

Jake scoffs while taking a hand to rub his tired face, "You're not a kid anymore. You can make your own living, and start your own family. You don't need me and you definitely don't need this lifestyle. You could do anything with your life without your crippled brother holding you back--"

"Who died and made you the sole decision-maker of what I do with my life?"

"You're clearly leaving an opening for me to say 'everyone died.'"

She pointedly slammed her drink down on the window sill before she turned to walk away, "Fuck you."

"Kayla..." With his sister still exiting, Jake grabbed his wheelchair and made the motion to go after her, his arrogance and pent-up emotions now starting to boil over, "Hey! Kayla! What the hell do you want from me?!"

"I want to be the first choice!" She screams, whipping back around to point an accusing finger down at him, "For once! I have never been put first over anything else ever! Not with Mom or Dad. Not with Tommy. And now not even with you!"

The snarl he lets out startled even him, bitter coldness dripping from his words, "Grow up, Kayla."

"What, is it childish to feel wanted?"

"Yes! That's not how you survive out here!" He emphasizes this by swinging an arm in the direction of the window.

"Stomping down feelings and a need for your family will ensure your survival?"

"'A need for your family?'" He grins up at her, incredulous and in disbelief, "Do you even hear yourself? It's not like I'm your first choice for a caring older brother!"

"No, you're not. You're always drunk, mean, and miserable these days."

"Hence why you don't need me holding you back--"

"Shut the fuck up!" She roars back, "Only you can hold you back. So stop trying to sell me this bullshit excuse that you're not worth keeping around only so you can ditch me! Because that's what you really want, isn't it? To ditch your sister?"

The room is silent apart from both siblings trying to regain their breath and posture. Jake had a hard time admitting that his voice had cracked when he managed to tone down the volume, "... No matter how I answer that... it won't be an answer you like."

Pain flashed in her eyes, a visual that would continue to haunt Jake from that day forward. Kayla's dirty-colored hair spills over one shoulder as she straightens herself up, towering over Jake, the hurt quickly being replaced by a wall of cement that quickly hardened behind her blue eyes. Her face relaxed into an expression that slowly bubbled with anger instead of pain, her voice dripping with venom, "You're right. Because you're either leaving me here because you don't want me to watch you die, or you're leaving to start a new life without any reminders of me. Either way, you're a sick son of a bitch and I wish you died instead of Tommy! Go to Hell!"

For added measure, she takes her foot and kicks at his wheelchair, pushing Jake back as he rounds back with more hateful words, quick to defend and pity himself, "I'm already in Hell! Living here, breathing this air, looking like this! This whole place is fucking Hell and I'm sick of it! You can love life as much as you want and make the most of it, but it's still a dying dream! I hate it here! I'd rather blow my brains out on Pandora than here! At least there's something nice to look at when that happens!"

The silence is nearly deafening the apartment, Jake's ragged breaths of anger pounding in his ears as he glares up at Kayla. Spontaneous tears spilled out of her eyes the second Jake found the time to blink, her breaths shaking as she tried to control herself from letting out any pathetic noise resembling a sob. It was a struggle, to be sure, as Jake watched her entire composure slowly crumble and shake, trying to grasp whatever dignity she had left.

"I hate you..." the words sound forced out, but they stab Jake straight in the chest, nonetheless. Kayla's voice croaked as she continued the verbal lashing, "I hate you..." She furiously wipes away her tears with the collar of her dress shirt that she had worn for her big brother's funeral, "When I wake up tomorrow, you better be gone by then."

The pent-up rage had been released in a cold laugh under his breath as Jake tightly gripped his wheels, "How about I do us both a favor and leave now!"

He rolls past her and makes it to the door, letting it slide open for him with a bit of a struggle due to the little power left in the mechanics of it. He doesn't turn back as he aggressively wheels forward, calling over his shoulder, "Have a good life, kid."

"Fuck you, Jake."

Then the door slides shut once more.

A/N: If you didn't see up top, I already have a masterlist starting since I have three chapters of this fic already published on ao3. Please check it out and leave kudos and uplifting comments if you enjoy, thank you!

[sasaranurude]

I'm a loser who both spends too much time playing gacha games and loves to hear myself talk, so here's another game review style post, this time covering my first day playing Break My Case. This time I'm not even being a little hater! I'm a lover! I'm cringe! I'm free! I love you Coly! I love you ikemen gacha games!!!!!!!

Break My Case is a new puzzle-music-adventure mobile game from Coly, the developers behind Mahoutsukai no Yakusoku and On Air. More relevant to BMC/BreMai is their game Stand My Heroes, with which it shares a writer, some gameplay elements, and of course a naming convention. Coly has developed a bit of a cult following for their unique status in the Japanese mobile gaming world: they're a company that was founded by women and hires women to make games for women. They put a lot of soul into their games. From the start, BMC is no different!

"Could you have pulled a clean version of this image from the internet so it didn't have all the game junk" no. it's my tumblr and you get my screenshots.

I (with help from friends) overviewed the initial Break My Case announcement back when it dropped. You can read that here! I said in that post that I thought a "dark rhythm game" would be a really cool direction for the game… and that's more or less what we got! GO ME!!!!!

First: the game's presentation is fantastic. Super slick graphical design and just amazing atmosphere. The sound design of this game is incredible. Genuinely. Really, really, good. All the music is amazing—I'm not knowledgeable enough to say anything other than "IT SLAPS!", but it totally does slap. The illustrations for the cards are all wonderfully atmospheric in and of themselves, and are just a delight to look at on the homescreen with its chill background music. Even just navigating menus is a sleek, seamless experience. The live2d is well-done, although it clashes a tad with the art style for a bit of an uncanny look at times. 

The atmosphere! The atmospheeeeeeere!!!

Of course, the draw to this game is the characters and story, so let's jump into that. I'll admit right now that I read the story through a machine translation—I have aaaalmost enough Japanese knowledge to fill in the gaps, especially since the story is fully voiced, but I'm definitely not getting the full nuance of the story that someone fluent in Japanese is going to get. THAT SAID, after completing the prologue, I was definitely intrigued enough that I want to continue slogging through the MTL just to read more! There's a great setup, centered around the bar Aporia and its three modes—a daytime cafe, a nighttime members-only bar, and, secretly, a "fixer" service who'll help anyone with any problem. Our main character, a woman who was just forced to quit her job at a corrupt company, gets hired to replace Aporia's eccentric owner while he goes on a who-knows-how-long vacation. The owner also has the role of "tail"—as in, the tail a lizard sheds to avoid being eaten. If anything in the fixer service goes wrong, it's the owner who takes the fall and the blame. This hasn't come to mean much in practice yet in the (quite short) prologue, but it's a fascinating setup. The story promises to touch on themes of the threads that weave our lives together, how small meetings can lead to massive life changes, and whether any human being is truly replaceable, even in our modern corporate world where people are treated like cogs in a machine. According to a staff interview, there are a handful of references to Stand My Heroes in BreMai, but the games' settings aren't otherwise closely linked.

Rough translation in alt text. The Aporia manager Ai may be the most mysterious, intimidating character, but he also beefs with a parrot the first time you meet him, so...

All the characters are staff at Aporia with various unique roles and background. The prologue just gives you a little bit of each of them, but everyone does show up, and they all have interesting dynamics with each other already. Ai, the stern manager, has some history with the MC that he refuses to divulge, and goes so far as to force psychologist Riku to agree to not look into it. The range of relationships among the staff run the gamut from the calm and mature friendship between fortune teller Kiho and art teacher Kyoya, to the unfaltering dedication of Yu to his ex-mafioso savior Tomose, to the ridiculous Takeru and Soyogu who spend their first appearance waking up after having gotten black-out drunk together the night before. My favorite dynamic of all so far is that of Kou and Mao—Kou is a playboy who insists he's not a playboy, and is introduced evading a woman by… asking the icy Mao to pretend to be his boyfriend so that she thinks he's taken and gay and leaves him alone. Which Mao exasperatedly agrees to, telling Kou that he's used up his allotment for this month which ohmygod how often does Kou do this. Kou if you're asking this guy to pretend to be your gay lover so often he gives you a monthly limit I think you might just have to admit you want him to actually be your gay lover, Kou, oh my god— 

Rough TL in alt text. Kou is letting the implication do all the heavy lifting here. He technically never said he was dating Mao. Technically. 

On to the gameplay. There's gameplay! Unique gameplay! Good unique gameplay! Oh my god, uncharted joseimuke territory! The main gameplay mode is a match-3 puzzle game with rhythm elements. As in other rhythm games, each song in the game is its own level, more or less. (Each character has two unique songs, and three songs shared with the other members of their unit.) You set up a team with cards you've collected from the gacha, which determine your power level and special skills. The "leader" of the team has to be the character whose level you've selected. The puzzle gameplay is a tile-swapping match 3—think bejeweled or candy crush—but the tiles you've matched are only cleared once a bar sliding across the screen hits them, clearing them in tune with the song. Everything cleared in a single swipe of the bar ups the combo counter. There's also a life system, where if the bar slides across the screen without clearing a single match, you lose a life… But the bar moves pretty slow. You're not likely to game over or even lose a single life any time soon. There are more difficult versions of the levels I've yet to unlock, so I'm sure the life meter becomes relevant then. There's also "auto" and "loop" features if you want to grind a level over and over for exp and items, but, of course, the computer can't score as high as you playing it yourself.

And, really, it's fun to play, so why would you want to!? The sound of matches clearing with the music is so satisfying and really makes you want to combo as high as possible. Once you've matched some tiles, you can't move them again, nor use them in a second match (eg, in a cross shape), so if you want to maximize your combo and make as many matches as possible with what's on the board, you have to think ahead about which matches you're going to make. The bar slowly crossing the screen adds a visual timed element that gives some urgency to putting all the matches together. It definitely feels like a game you can pick up an instinct for over time, which is super fun. 

All in all, a really solid, enjoyable little puzzle game. It would be fun to play even without the promise of anime boys. Stand My Heroes is also a match-3, for the record, which is what really cements the two games as being part of the same series.

Admittedly, the anime boy staring at you while you play musical candy crush is a little disconcerting.

The second gameplay mode is "Snap'n Spin", a… gameplay-lite mode that just puts chibi characters in random strange situations and lets you take pictures of them. The mode is explained to be a video game within the world of BreMai, so it's not even trying to be realistic or relevant to anything else in the game. Once you take your pokemon snaps of the boys, they get a fun little caption. You can save up to 40 pictures in your album. Other than being cute, the main way this mode interfaces with the rest of the game is that it's the primary way to unlock card stories for the cards you pulled in gacha. 

This gameplay mode is... cute? I guess? It being so disconnected from the style and aesthetics of the entire rest of the game felt weird. The chibis are adorable, so it has that going for it. And I do like some of the captions you get on the photos afterwards. My favorite were the scenes you catch of a character drinking, and then the caption reveals their current favorite drink. That's a delightful detail for a game set in a bar. Mostly, though, this mode left me wondering "why?" ...And I imagine the answer is something like "because merchandisable chibi characters are a requirement for joseimuke games." This mode could've been anything so long as these cute, starry little dudes were in it.

Urara here hated the drink and the caption revealed that, lately, his favorite thing is sparkling water. He's the youngest character in the cast, so I guess he hasn't grown into booze yet...

One last feature I want to mention is the jukebox. Like many games, BreMai has a music player that lets you listen to tracks from the game… But its music player is, genuinely, a fully-featured music player app with shuffle, repeat, lyric displays, and even background play that works when you're in another app or your phone is off. What! Wild! When I first learned a few days ago that BreMai had a built-in player for its BGM tracks, my first thought was "Well, what's stopping someone from downloading the game just to use the music player and never spending a cent on it? Wouldn't you rather have the songs on spotify so you at least get a pittance of ad revenue, in that case? It's more than nothing."

But having played the game now, I see what they did to prevent that, lol. You don't unlock the songs in the jukebox until you get an SS score on the song's level. Which, I mean, that's normal rhythm game stuff, of course. Can't fault that decision. But, as in other gacha rhythm games, your score in a level depends on the power of your team of cards, and the cards you get from the initial handful of pulls aren't gonna get you anywhere near an SS score without significant investment. So you're either buying in-game currency to buy upgrade items, more gacha pulls, or both. Of course, you can also put a bunch of time into grinding for upgrade items—they drop from levels. Gacha currency is harder to come by. So you're not getting songs in the player without actually playing the game lmfao. The character solo songs in particular (the ones with vocals rather than just instrumentals) also require you to build up rapport with that character—the game calls it "Nice". You build up Nice with them by playing their other songs and using their cards in levels. It takes 1000 Nice on a character to unlock their song. In my first day of playing, I was able to get one character to about 250 Nice, another to 200, and a handful more with a few points, so it builds at an okay pace. There's ways to pay to speed up the grinding for Nice and for upgrade items with things like level skip tickets. So, basically: you're not getting that music player to a useful state without investing either money or time, lmao. Is paying-or-grinding to get cool music you can listen to while not playing the game more "worth it" than the usual freemium game goals of better units, new in-game outfits, or prettier card illustrations? ...Honestly, maybe it is? It's novel, at least.

All gacha rhythm games have the same card select screen, don't they. These were my cards' levels after my first day of play, and you can see they didn't quite reach a suggested score of "A", much less the maximum "SS".

But I do want to stress, the monetization is, for the most part, pretty easy to ignore. Nothing in-your-face. The button to go to the shop screen is a different color, but it's not flashing with an eternal indicator, it's not popping up at every second, it's just sitting there alongside all the other menu buttons. The game isn't shoving timers in your face at all times—there's a stamina meter, which is mildly annoying, but you get ten plays when it's full, and if you're just playing casually you're probably not going to want to play the puzzle game over and over enough to fully deplete that. I know the bar is on the damn floor here but Tokyo Debunker seriously made me realize how bad it can be with mobile game monetization. BreMai is freemium, yeah, but as far as dark patterns go, it's not egregiously bad.

So, the verdict: if you're a joseimuke game fan and aren't afraid to play a game that probably won't get an English port and doesn't even have a fan translation yet (which I realize is already counting out 99.99% of people), definitely give this one a try. See if you like the gameplay—it really is worth trying—and do check out the story if you've got the ability. Or just look at the pretty anime boys. 

[silent-words]

Ramblings about my anxieties about the society I live in. Personal and traumatic, but mostly about our shitty government. Very bitter, and with obscene language. Just for the record, it is not an English-speaking country.

Do you know that I need to use the mirror site to access AO3? Our country blocked AO3 with .org domain because of "gay propaganda". Books like "The Song of Achilles" are not sold anymore (although we have the translation). Discord is blocked, YouTube is "slowed", and LGBTQA+ is officially (!) called an "extremist organization" (it doesn't make sense, but that's something I live in). The government wants us to believe in "traditional values", but they don't even have the guts to formulate them.

On top of that I cannot access Spotify and many other services because they're blocked from the outside. I'll need to make a whole new Steam account for a different region to buy "Dragon Age: the Veilguard". All for the reason that, you know, corporates want to look all pure and righteous and have nothing to do with this nightmare of a country. Good for them, I guess.

Oh, I forgot the war that's going on and affecting people I care about on both sides. And all I can do is to wait for this nightmare to end. Every time I see someone on the web from "the other side", I'm going numb, because the best I can do is leave them alone. Because I'm not in a position to complain, yet I need to say about it.

Also if you think people who immigrated actually help... fucking no, they say people here are all evil, and they out there apparently are saints. There are good people, of course, I'm talking about the loudest part. And how the whole discourse looks like.

Back to me. I always fear someone will find out my accounts here, especially with MLM fanfics. I can lose my job. Literally. But I can't not publish them. Because it is when I write that I feel alive. ANd when I share what I write.

And here on Tumblr I'm afraid that people will read this and either block me or hate me. Because I still live here and I still love my country, because the country and the state are different. But who cares, really.

I need to release it into the world. I know it will have consequences, but I can't hold it anymore.

[colinmkl]

Kamen Rider NRV Lore Dump!

Manticore

Manticore LLC is a major medical technology company. Publicly, they are most known for their artificial organs and limb prosthesis as well as several other medical devices and equipment used in hospitals worldwide. Less widely publicized are their numerous military contracts, developing cutting edge medical treatment technologies but also advanced weapons, drones, and other offensive hardware.

Nanoderm

The scientific breakthrough that lead Manticore to dominate in the field of med-tech is the invention of micro-sensors that are capable of reading brain signals in the nervous system and translating them into data a computer can interpret with absolute precision. These microscopic sensors can be integrated into programmable nanomachines that interlock in a mesh that forms durable skin-like material called Nanoderm.  If an exposed section of human tissue is covered in Nanoderm and then allowed to heal, the Nanoderm will become integrated with the tissue like a layer of natural skin. Any impulses or signals sent by the brain to that part of the body will be received by the Nanoderm and translated into data. That data can then be read as motor commands by a Manticore prosthesis. Basic prosthesis models can receive this data via magnetic nodes embedded in the surface of the Nanoderm but more advanced models, capable of finer dexterity/expanded functionality, require a “bone spike,” a rod-like data plug that interfaces with a port in the Nanoderm area that is connected to more advanced sensors. The socket and sensor hardware is imbedded in the body through a surgical procedure.

The catch with the Nanoderm system is it must be applied to the body before the exposed tissue heals over and the exposed nerve endings have a chance to close off, or in other words, while the wound is “fresh”, otherwise the healed tissue must be cut away and a fresh wound made. This means that in emergency situations a patient or their next of kin must make a snap decision to undergo the expensive Nanoderm compatibility surgery as part of their emergency treatment. Of course some insurance plans will cover some or all of this cost. Additionally Manticore has deals with some insurance providers that the surgery come standard with higher end coverage plans, forgoing the need for patient consent. Manticore has exclusive patent rights to the Nanoderm system, meaning once you are Nanoderm compatible, you are locked into the Manticore ecosystem of prosthesis and devices. Additionally your devises can only be serviced by Manticore certified technicians and only Manticore doctors are trained in Nanoderm patient care.

Remote Command (RC)

Manticore is a sprawling corporation with many secrets. One such secret is the Remote Command program. A project Manticore has been working on behind closed doors, the Remote Command program involves research into sending brain signals over great distances without a physical connection between the sensor and the receiving devise. With RC a person could control a prosthetic arm in another part of the world as though it were part of their body. This is achieved by broadcasting the impulses across a proprietary electromagnetic wave length to the receiving nodes. The signal travels point to point and back again at light speed. The potential RC has for the future of drone warfare is staggering, not to mention the potential for profit.

Sensitive as this information is, there’s another layer. All Nanoderm currently in use by people around the world is capable of receiving Remote Command. With the right inputs it can reshape its self, self-replicate, and even, under certain conditions, send signals back to the user’s brain, causing brain damage or, theoretically, controlling them. Whether this functionality of Nanoderm was an intentional feature or not is unknown to anyone currently employed at Manticore but the company has no pans currently to use the Nanoderm in this way. What is known, however, is that if this function ever becomes public knowledge it would be disastrous for Manticore, not to mention the chaos that would ensue if a bad actor were to exploit this function for malicious purposes.

Manticore Special Security (Spec-Sec)

Manticore LLC has secrets, and it has enemies. To protect its secrets, combat its enemies, address the threats to public safety those things pose, (and protect its corporate interests), Manticore formed the Manticore Special Security Division. More than just your standard private security outfit, Spec-Sec is a fully equipped task force and strike force designed to identify, target, track, confront, and nullify any threat to the company and its assets. Thanks to Manticore’s history of generous donations and good standing with local police forces, the Spec-Sec Division is able to operate with a certain degree of discretion, allowing them to carry out operations without interference from police or the legal system. Lead by Special Security Director Sloane, her hand-picked crack team of Special Officers have carried out dozens of high risk operations with ruthless efficacy and, so-far, minimal casualties. Spec-Sec utilizes the most cutting edge technology and weaponry Manticore has, often before it’s even close to market ready. In some cases necessity dictates that Spec-Sec operations serve as ad hoc field tests for experimental equipment.

Core Drivers, Data Boosters, and the Kamen Rider program

The Core Driver is a piece of technology that was developed as part of research into the use of Nanoderm to enhance a soldier’s physical performance on the battlefield. The concept was to temporarily cover the user’s entire body in a layer of Nanoderm mesh that could respond to the signals from the user’s brain in such a way that would increase their strength, speed, perception, and reflexes. The solution was the Core Driver, a device that would house the billions of Nanoderm nanomachines and serve as the computational core for the whole mesh network. Along with the Core Driver was the Data Booster, a flash drive-like device shaped like a syringe. The data booster contained the information that told the nanomachines to deploy from the Core Driver and cover the user. Additionally the Booster came with its own payload of nanomachines that, when the plunger of the syringe was depressed, would also be deployed through the Core Diver and take the form of armor and weapons. Basically, a user need only insert the Data Booster into the Core Diver, clearly speak a voice authentication phrase, and depress the plunger and they would instantly be wearing a powerful yet flexible armored body suit. The project was called the “Kamen Rider program” after the masked visage of the user’s armored faceplate (“Kamen” being the Japanese word for “mask”).

The Project had its drawbacks, however. For one a user would need to already be Nanoderm compatible for the suit to work at all, meaning, practically speaking, the user would need to be an amputee, and the prospect of convincing soldiers to sacrifice a limb to use the Driver was deemed a “hard sell” and the idea of a approaching a freshly maimed soldier with the offer of further combat, well, that wouldn’t be a good look either. The second and most important drawback was the simple fact that the Kamen Rider program was far, FAR too expensive to be profitable, and the thousands of man hours it took to produce just one Core Driver meant mass producing them to sell by the battalion, as Manticore had planned, was simply out of the question.

The Kamen Rider Program was not completely abandoned, however. The first completed Core Driver, designation SVR (Special Versatility Rider model or “Sever” colloquially) is currently coded to Director Sloane of Spec-Sec, who happens to be a double transfemeral amputee. With the Director’s input, the device and the suit itself have been modified heavily over its years of use. It now features the ability for additional Data Boosters to be employed, loaded with weapons and tools in the form of appendages that attach to highly advanced versions of Bone Spike sockets on the suit at the amputation sites of the Rider’s body. The nerve signal enhancing properties of the suit allows the Rider to manipulate these complex, non-human-like appendages with a natural ease and minimal adjustment period.

A second Core Driver has just recently been put to use in the field at Spec-Sec. The first Kamen Rider designed from the ground up with Spec-Sec modifications. Designation NRV (Neo Rider Variant or “Nerve” colloquially) is encoded to the Division’s newest member, Special Officer Nat Agbayani. A right shoulder disarticulation amputee, he was promoted to the Special Security Division from the internship program in the research wing by the COO of Manticore himself… wait what? That can’t be right…

The existence of any other Core Drivers, in use or otherwise, is classified.

Thanks for reading

[faggotmox]

UNTIL I SAY SO

Fandom: All Elite Wrestling (AEW) Rating: Explicit Time Period: After Blood & Guts 2023 Characters: Jon Moxley, Wheeler Yuta, Claudio Castagnoli, (background) Bryan Danielson, Blackpool Combat Club, BCC Relationships: Jon Moxley/Claudio Castagnoli/Wheeler Yuta, background Jon Moxley/Bryan Danielson/Claudio Castagnoli/Wheeler Yuta, BCC Polycule Summary: After the BCC's loss at Blood & Guts there are apologies to be made and punishments to be given. All in the name of strengthening the BCC. Word Count: 11,978 Writer's Notes: Shout out to @di0brando for proof reading/editing and also helping me work out Yuta's dom character. Kink list/warnings below cut (because long) but also exactly the same as on the ao3 link. This is also a celebration fic for me getting fired/quitting my hell corporate coffee job. Translations: Swiss German Terms of Endearment + Sternli means "little star" + Tigerli means "little tiger" (ya know when your boyfriend is huge so you're both "little" something or other.) -> link to fic on ao3

Final Writer's Notes: Okay okay, so here is the thing…the thing is they're horny and fit so they can come like 20 times. It's fine. Don't ask questions about that. Look at all the other kinks and (checks notes) the story? Anyways these sluts are definitely in an established BDSM relationship so like they don't need to negotiate and what not. Enjoy my return to wrestling porn! Roles: Dom/Top/Power Bottom Wheeler Yuta, Sub/Switch/Service Top Claudio Castagnoli, Sub/Bottom Jon Moxley, Background Dom/Top/Daddy Bryan Danielson Kink List: BDSM, Heavy BDSM, Multiple Orgasms, Dom/sub, Restraints, Spanking, Impact Play, Paddling, Cock Rings, Dildos, Sex Toys, Punishment, Degradation Kink, Humiliation Kink, Master/Slave, Domspace, Subspace, Service Top, Come play, Prostate Milking, Prostate Massage, Cock & Ball Torture, Rough Sex, Rough Oral Sex, BDSM Scene, Kink, Cock Warming, Force Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Forced Orgasm, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Dry Orgasm, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Objectification Kink, Pain Kink, Pain Play, S&M, Sadomasochism, Blindfolds, Gags, Choking, Face Slapping, Cock Slapping, Spit Kink, Yuta Worship, Bondage

Until I Say So

“You know what you have to do.” Bryan’s voice crackled over the headphones.

“He did the right thing.” Yuta walked along the cushioned carpets of the hotel hallways. 

“You still need to do this,” Bryan reiterated. “For him.”

“I know.” Yuta got to the door, his hands moving to get the keycard out of his pocket. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I know you will.” There was a brief pause. “That’s why I wasn’t worried about not being there tonight.” A silence hung between them before Bryan spoke again. “You must be at the door?” 

“Yeah. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Yuta pulled one of the buds out of his ear. “Bye.”

“Bye.” Bryan hung up.

The door opened as expected. Yuta walked inside, cleaned up and stitched back together. Chin held high because Yuta didn’t give up, and Yuta didn’t cost them the match. The balcony door that said ‘no smoking’ was open with Mox standing outside. The medical kit was all put back together on the bed, and the water was running in the bathroom. Claudio must have finished up with Mox and was cleaning up while Mox waited. Waited for Yuta. 

The man in question turned after a few moments of being watched. A half-smoked cigarette in his mouth as he took in Yuta. Mox ducked his head quickly, his hand coming up to take the cigarette and flick it into a can-made-ashtray. The door made a squeaky sound when Mox closed it. The older man wasn’t wearing his shoes. Just a pair of loose-fitting shorts and a few bandages. 

Mox’s head was still ducked down, his shoulders hunched forward, when he leaned into Yuta’s personal space to nudge his forehead against the side of Yuta’s. An apology. The way a puppy would apologize. For a moment Yuta indulged Mox’s feelings. One of his hands came up to rest on the back of the other man’s neck and pull him closer. 

“I shouldn’t…have tapped for you.” Mox finally said just as the bathroom door opened.

“Hang on, Claudio.” Yuta stopped any interruption preemptively. His hand gripped Mox’s chin. “No. You shouldn’t have tapped for me. You’re going to make it up to me, right?” Yuta stared hard at Mox before he got a jerky nod. “Get these off and get on the bed.” 

As soon as Yuta let go, Mox did what he was told to do. His shorts were discarded before he got on the bed, careful of any injury or bandage. Yuta turned around to Claudio once that was taken care of, and went to kiss the other man. There was probably some guilt playing in Claudio after the Pac altercation, but Yuta hadn’t been relying on Pac. Claudio had come through time and again during the match. So had Mox. 

“You did a good job patching him up.” Yuta gave a reassuring smile. “You did a good job tonight.”

“Thank you.” Claudio tipped his head and kissed a stitch on Yuta’s brow. “He’s good to go for you. All cleared, and cleaned up. Nothing too bad.”

“Hmm. Good.” Yuta ran a hand up Claudio’s arm. “Wanna referee?” 

“Yeah?” Claudio glanced between Mox on the bed and Yuta in front of him. 

“I want you to.” Yuta reassured. 

“I would like to. Thank you, Wheeler.” Claudio kissed the stitch again before kissing Yuta's lips.

They parted with Claudio going to change into a tank top and pair of boxers before settling into a chair nearby. Yuta stripped his t-shirt so Mox could see everything for the first time. What he gave to hold on, and Mox gave that up.

It wasn’t on purpose but Yuta always felt a little like he was in the ring when he tugged their equipment bag out from under the bed. What was it going to be? A barbed wire bat or a vibrator? Yuta was smirking to himself over his own dumb little jokes, but for all Mox knew he was smirking over the punishment he had planned. Now Yuta was smirking about that.

“Tell me your safeword, Mox.” 

“Regal. Yours?” 

“Dragon.”

They both nodded to each other before Yuta made his decision. Bryan had told him that he needed to take Mox down after that. Punish him for that decision even though Yuta could admit it was the right call. However Bryan didn’t provide a detailed plan of the punishment, and Yuta was working on the fly. He was a smart guy though, and he could kill two birds with one stone here.

“Make yourself useful while I set up for you.” Yuta unzipped the bag, not bothering to look at Mox. “Since Claudio carried the team on his back tonight, I think you should thank him properly. Some appreciation is in order for how well he patched you up, too.”

Yuta was able to fish a few things he needed out of the bag rather quickly, and silently thanked Claudio for being so organized. He followed behind Mox and stood nearly touching him as he knelt in front of Claudio in the armchair. 

“Thank you, Claudio.” Mox frowned at the annoyed sigh from the larger man.

“Yuta, if you would--” Claudio gestured vaguely at Mox in a way he didn’t get, but Yuta did; he handed Claudio a cushion. “You just took a beating. Take care of our property, Jon.” Claudio made Mox move and kneel on the pad instead of the harder floor. 

“Sorry.” Mox cleared his throat when he felt Yuta smack the back of his head.

“Who are you, Bryan? Awfully quiet tonight, Mox. I want to hear you thanking Claudio for everything he’s done and then suck his dick until I’m ready to deal with you.” Yuta passed off a pair of cock rings to Claudio, and a blindfold. 

“Yeah. You’re right.” Mox cleared his throat and shifted to get comfortable before looking up at Claudio. “Thank you for carrying the team, and taking all the pain you did for us. For bleeding for us. I know you protected both of us more than once during the match. You fought hard. Thank you. But mostly thank you for not…not giving up on Yuta. I saw you fighting to get to him. I saw…”

While Mox rambled on, Yuta cleared off the hotel room desk, hoping that it would be sturdy enough to support their activities. Yuta didn’t have to watch to know that Claudio was getting them both into the rings, and Mox into the blindfold. It was easy. Everyone was getting what they needed, and if Yuta could pull it off they’d all get to walk away a little less wounded. Which he guessed was the weight Bryan was putting on his shoulders. 

The rambling had stopped but there were now sucking sounds. The heavy sigh from Claudio made Yuta smirk. It might be fucked up, but they were fucked up. A guilty blowjob from Mox was one of the best things in the world. Mox was obsessed with choking himself on Claudio’s dick anyways. As Yuta went over his restraint choices he glanced over to see Claudio lounged back, arms behind his head and eyes closed as Mox exorcized his demons. 

“Not to interrupt,” Yuta piped up, the wry grin still on his face as Claudio cracked an eye open. “It looks like a good thank you.”

“Oh, it is.” Claudio put a large hand on the back of Mox’s head to force him all the way down. “Fuck. Best thank you a guy could ask for.”

Mox gagged for a long moment as he was held down. He didn’t push or fight back. A tight moan worked its way out of his chest when he was close to a limit and Claudio let him up without a moment's hesitation. Mox swayed hard backwards. Heavy eyes blinked tears away as he tried to refocus himself. 

“Care to put him over this table for me, Claudio? Face down, please.” Yuta gestured to the set up. 

“No problem.” Claudio winked at Yuta. “You know how much I like to pick him up.”

It was true. Claudio had a thing specifically for picking up Mox. The dazed man didn’t even squirm when Claudio scooped him up, Mox’s damaged back meeting Claudio’s sculpted chest, and carried him over to the desk. Some of the pressure made Mox hiss as pain sparked in his wounds, but it also made his dick twitch. 

The cool wood did little to calm the fever Mox was in. Claudio reached to restrain Mox but Yuta gently stopped him and motioned for him to secure Mox’s lower half. Yuta liked when Claudio refereed for them. He knew Claudio liked it when Mox refereed for him. It was funny how they all had their own preferences. Yuta vaguely knew he was Bryan’s go-to. Yuta had seen Bryan and Mox do crazy things together.

The leather cuffs around Mox’s ankles were secured, and Claudio was quick to do his thighs as well. Yuta adjusted the blindfold, kissing Mox’s cheek before snapping one wrist in, and then going for the other. Yuta anticipated Mox’s spike of panic.

“Hey.” Yuta grabbed the scruff of Mox’s neck. “Stop it. Calm down, and breathe. You’re going to be cuffed, just like in the ring, and this time we don’t stop until I say so.”

Mox whimpered and gave one last push back before collapsing onto the table. Now Yuta could fully clasp the last cuff since he didn’t have to hold Mox down. Once everything was on, Yuta did a quick once-over to make sure everything was good to go before looking up to see Claudio smiling at him.

“Good call.” Claudio said quietly as he got up and moved around to pull a chair up to the side of the desk, near Mox’s head. 

One of the side tables had been dragged over for Yuta to put all of their necessities on. Claudio was where he needed to be to keep an eye on Mox, his hand occasionally stroking his hard on. The click of the lube cap startled Mox. Yuta chuckled as he pulled a pair of gloves on before dribbling the lube over Mox’s hole. The tiny moan that left Mox made Yuta wanna say fuck the punishment and fuck him right there. That’d make Yuta feel better. But he checked himself. This was about making Mox feel better, and doing something incredibly hot. 

“There’s one rule here, Mox.” Yuta teased a finger over the other man's hole, letting Mox adjust his feet and find how he needed to really stand like this. “What’s that rule?” Yuta started to push in his first finger, pulling a deep whine from Mox. “What do you think the one rule is here, Jon?” 

“Fuck.” Mox pressed his forehead against the desk. “Bryan’s a bitch for corrupting you.”

“Focus.” Yuta smacked Mox’s ass sharply, aiming for the horrific edge of the bruise where Mox had landed on the nail bed. There was already some admiration from Yuta for how much Mox could get off on his wounds. Pain was pain to the man, which was the same as pleasure in Mox’s wirecrossed brain. 

“It doesn’t stop until you say so!” Mox called out, his back arching. Yuta pushed two fingers in as a reward. “OH! Fuck.” 

“Good boy.” Yuta finger fucked Mox slowly to work in more and more lube that they would need. The praise made Mox relax some. The man loved to have his hole played with, Yuta was an expert on that now. Mox was truly a bottom, and enjoyed every moment of it. Even these moments. “Taking me so well. Let’s take things up a notch.”

Yuta started to work on a third finger, which had Mox letting out happily pained sounds. That was what Yuta put his efforts into. He stretched Mox’s hole, pushing deeper and adding more lube. As Mox started to break out in sweat Yuta started to work over his prostate. It was so easy to tease Mox like this, so Yuta did so without mercy. 

“Fuck, fuck. I-I-m--” Mox choked on his own words. “Come?” 

“You wanna come, big guy?” Yuta teased. “‘Cause I keep doing this?” Yuta worked two fingers over the other man’s spot, making him jolt and jerk. 

“Yes! Please! Please?” Mox gasped. 

“There’s only one rule, Mox.” Yuta reminded him.

“It doesn’t stop until you say it stops?” Mox repeated, not quite getting it but to be fair Yuta was working very hard to keep Mox from being able to think much. 

“Exactly. You can come as much as you want, Mox.” Yuta said in a sickeningly soft voice, like he was doing Mox a favor. “You can come now. And again. And again. And again. Doesn’t matter much to me. I’m going to keep doing what I want to you until I decide I’m done.”

“Wheeler.” Mox’s voice caught in his chest, his body tensing as a wave of pleasure built up and broke through. 

“So soon.” Yuta mocked a little as he kept playing with Mox. “We have so long to go. Hope it doesn’t start hurting.” Mox mumbled something that neither could make out. “What was that?” Yuta pressed a mean finger against a bruise.

“Fuck! I said,” Mox had to force his lungs to open up to breathe for a moment before the words could be made. “I fuckin’ said, I hope it does!” 

“That’s what I expect to hear from you, Jon.” Yuta laughed, leaning over the other to kiss his cheek.

The small display of affection was all Mox got before Yuta pulled his fingers free. Mox made a practically wounded sound that made the other two men laugh and muttered a ‘calm down.’ There was a towel below Mox so they didn’t destroy any carpet but Yuta did nothing about his leaking, dripping cock. Still hard from Yuta playing with his g-spot and the binding cock ring.

The next part was going to be a lot of fun for the neighbors. Mox wasn’t shy, and they were letting him be pretty loud right now. Yuta knew to give Claudio the go ahead to start a blowjob if Mox got concerningly loud. 

Off on the side table was Yuta’s selection of equipment. His hands sought out the toy he liked to use most on Mox. Slightly above average length, but thick especially at the head; not realistic but ribbed and grooved since Mox was so sensitive. The toy never failed to bring out the most responsive side of Mox, which was why Yuta always brought it with them. The crowd favorite, so to speak.

The blunt tip of the toy eased past Mox’s hole. There was a little whine that got louder the deeper Yuta pushed the toy. Once it was all the way in, Yuta turned the base and the toy buzzed to life. Mox jumped hard, and pulled against the restraints as Yuta gave tiny, hard, shallow thrusts with the toy. The restraints rattled and Yuta made sure the table wasn’t giving as he started to pull the toy out more and thrust it back in. 

"Wheeler!" Mox hollered as the toy slid over the little spot that sent sparks up his back. "Fuck!"

"If you're too loud, Claudio will have to figure out how to gag you " Yuta teased with the toy, running quick, short thrusts over Mox’s prostate. 

“I can- I can’t--” Mox choked out but Yuta didn’t let up. 

The hitching, gasping sounds Mox kept making clued Yuta into what was about to happen. It took Yuta very few adjustments to press the vibrator against that spot. It looked like a bolt of lightning went through Mox. His back straightened out completely, his hips bucked into the edge of the desk, and all the restraints rattled. 

All the tension snapped at once. Between Mox’s legs Yuta could see his straining cock spray again. Yuta’s mouth watered at the sight. The hard twitching length leaked more as Yuta kept up his torture. When Mox started to shake, Yuta slowly eased the vibrator out, turning it off and setting it aside. 

“W-Wheeler?” Mox stammered, his breathing coming rapidly.

“We're not done yet,” Yuta responded dismissively as he removed his gloves.

“Nah…” Mox shook his head. “E-Empty?” 

That got a good chuckle out of both Yuta and Claudio. It was important to let Mox rest between their bouts, but Yuta couldn’t say no. Not to that. Not with what he had planned for Mox’s ‘rest cycle.’ 

“Oh, you wanna be full, big guy?” Yuta gave a playful pop to the softer underside of Mox’s ass. 

“Fuck, yes!” Mox called out, completely forgetting about or not caring that they had neighbors. 

“Sure about that? You don’t know what’s coming.” Yuta gave the teasing warning but was already pulling out a plug for Mox.

“Yes, Wheeler, yes.” Mox grunted and tried to shake his ass a little. “Plea- Ah!” 

The plug was smaller for Mox. It was smaller than the toy they had just been using, but it would be enough to keep Mox occupied. The toy fit snugly into the bound man, who moaned and bucked back against Yuta. As if Yuta hadn’t just made him come twice and fucked him with the toy nonstop. Mox was ridiculous.

“The way I see it, Mox,” Yuta started as he reached towards his side table set up for something new, “there were five people in that ring you let down.” The words got a little nod from Mox, but Yuta waited for a moment before adding. “And one person at home.”

“...Bryan…” Mox mumbled sadly.

“That’s right. Bryan.” Yuta agreed. “So, I think you owe each of us five strikes.” 

That made Mox’s breathing stop. His hips pushed back and out to be at a good angle for striking. The area Yuta was working with was already pretty bruised and damaged from the match. The strict, wooden paddle Yuta picked would be harsh on what was already there.

Claudio, ever present of mind, got himself to their gear back and was returning to sit with Mox again. Despite looking a little red in the face, Claudio seemed unbothered by the raging hard on between his legs. Yuta watched as Claudio started to wedge Mox’s mouth guard into his mouth. They all had a mouthguard for impact play, courtesy of Claudio. Once the guard was in, Yuta came around to kiss Claudio hard on the mouth.

“I’ll take him to ten, if you’ll follow up with five.” Yuta smiled at the twinkle in the other man’s eyes. “Then next round we’ll do you opening with five and me finishing with ten.”

“I like that.” Claudio kissed Yuta’s cheek before he returned to standing behind Mox.

Giving Mox a spanking was like giving a dog a bone. The man would writhe and thrash, making all sorts of noise too. At least the mouthguard helped with the sound, because Yuta loved to work him up. He delivered ten perfectly placed, well-measured, painful strikes to Mox’s backside. Mox was moaning for more when Yuta handed off the paddle to his trusted ‘referee.’ 

Five blows didn’t take long, but Claudio was precious with his work. The worst of the overlapping areas Yuta left were assaulted by Claudio’s perfect swing. The Swiss giant was by far the best technically out of all of them. By the last strike, Mox was clearly crying. It may have been concerning if he wasn’t also begging for more in mumbled requests against the table.

“There’s the first fifteen. Good boy.” Yuta stroked along a newly minted welt on Mox’s ass. “We get back to it, huh?”

“Back to it?” Mox used all his energy to lift his neck but couldn’t see anything anyways. Claudio took out the mouthguard so Mox could repeat himself. "Back to it?"

“Back to it.” Yuta said again as he took the plug out with a quick jerk of his hand.

“Fuck!” Mox cried out.

“Claudio, could you?” Yuta gestured.

“My pleasure.” Claudio was laughing as he stood up and pressed the tip of his dick to Mox’s mouth. 

As Mox worked his mouth around the thick cock in front of him, Yuta donned another pair of gloves and pushed two lubed fingers into his hole. It was easy for Yuta to play Mox’s body like a guitar. A little like this, and more that way. Mox was extremely responsive, too. The man would make it clearly known if he was having a good or bad time. It was one of Yuta’s favorite things about Mox being his sub. It was never hard to tell what Mox did or did not want.

The next orgasm shuddered through Mox like a train wreck thanks to Yuta’s talented fingers. It was sudden and fast. By the end of it he slumped against the desk and gave up. His body going lax as Claudio fucked his mouth. There was no end in sight for Mox. He knew he would get fifteen more strikes, but he had no idea how long Yuta planned to milk orgasms out of him. 

“Slow your breathing, Jon.” Claudio encouraged gently from above. He stopped moving so deep so that Mox could get his breathing regulated again. “Good boy.” Claudio praised once Mox got himself grounded. “Keep sucking.” 

Just as Mox refocused his brain on breathing and sucking dick, Yuta pulled his fingers out and replaced them with the vibrator. This time the toy was already going, the setting on medium-high. Mox choked and sobbed around Claudio’s cock. The table kept Mox up, his legs and arms defeatedly relaxed.

Yuta tormented Mox with the vibrator to the point that Mox was just outright crying at the stimulation. If Bryan hadn’t taught Yuta so well he’d probably pull out his dick right now and jerk off because the power rush from making Jon Moxley openly cry was enough to make Yuta come.

“There it is.” Yuta called out as he watched Mox have the most painful looking orgasm. “Oh fuck.” 

The head of Mox’s cock was painfully purple. Yuta wondered how loud Mox would scream if he just put his mouth over the sensitive tip. Yuta watched waves of pain and overstimulation roll through Mox’s body as his cock weakly twitched in an effort to come. The toy was only left in long enough to make Mox start bucking his hips away. 

“Okay, okay.” Yuta laughed as he took the vibrator out and put it aside again. He wondered if Mox knew he had come four times now, or if he thought it was some stupidly high number or something. “Claudio?” 

Yuta got the paddle again and held it up for the other to take. Claudio gave a couple of small thrusts before slowly pulling his dick out. Sometimes Yuta called them his ��goodbyes.’ Claudio’s cock was replaced by the mouthguard before Claudio came to the end of the table. The larger man got the paddle and examined the canvas before him. It didn’t take long for Claudio to rain down five absolutely brutal blows to Mox’s ass. Between the sobs and groans, Yuta heard something.

“What was that, Mox?” Yuta nudged him. “Speak up.”

“...it stops when you say it stops…” Mox had to push the mouthguard out to say it a few times before going back to mouthing the words to himself.

“Oh. That’s hot.” Yuta sighed and started palming his cock through his jeans.

“You’re very close to getting to take care of that.” Claudio grinned as he absently stroked the back of Mox’s head. 

“My turn.” The mouthguard was forced back into Mox’s mouth.

Ten more strikes were laid out on Mox’s pained ass. With Mox, the answer rarely was to go lighter, so he had put some heft into his strikes. The sounds the spanking generated from Mox were so hot Yuta was sure he’d jerk off to them later.

By the time Yuta put the paddle down Mox was shaking, his thick thighs quivering against the maroon restraints. The restrains were leaving red marks against pale skin. The bruising from the match mixed with Claudio and Yuta’s marks. It gave Yuta a head rush. The other bruises Mox had fought against, but the ones they left were welcomed onto his body. It made Yuta feel like he had a right to Mox’s flesh. 

The paddle was put away but Yuta’s hand never left Mox’s welted ass. Claudio removed the mouthguard a final time, putting it away in its case to be washed later. Yuta took a moment to think about their next move and gestured to Claudio to check the blindfold. As a few ideas floated around in his head, Yuta made sure to check Mox over physically. Claudio had taken to whispering softly in German to their sub while he did his own checks. Making fillers so Yuta could have a moment to plan. That decided it. Claudio deserved a reward.

“How are you feeling, big guy?” Yuta groped Mox’s sore ass as he asked, getting back into their scene. There wasn’t a response so Yuta gripped harder. “I asked a question.” There was a long enough silence Yuta considered slowing everything down to check in better.

“Sorry I tapped.” Mox choked miserably on the words. He was so far down and crying so hard the words barely formed in his throat. "I'm sorry I tapped for you. I'm sorry I gave up. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry."

"I know you are." Yuta gestured for Claudio to work on calming their bound sub down. The other was already moving to check Mox over. "That's why we're doing this. Because I know you're sorry, and I know what you need."

"Please?" Mox sighed, his head dropping hard onto the desk.

"Please what, Mox?" Yuta had been gently stroking Mox's hip while Claudio gently massaged Mox's shoulders and back. Together their work seemed to help.

"Keep going." Mox was turning into jelly now.

“You know I will, Mox.” Yuta leaned down to kiss a cared-for wound on his shoulder. “You’ve been a really good boy.” Those words never failed to make Mox moan. “I’m going to make you a little more comfortable for this next part, so you can enjoy it a little more.” 

“Wheeler.” Mox whimpered. “Don’t deserve--”

“You don’t get to decide what you deserve and don’t deserve. That’s my job.” Yuta reminded him with a sharp slap to the thigh. “Claudio.” Yuta reached up to undo one of the wrist cuffs so the larger man followed suit. “Take him around the waist and hold him up for a second.” 

Mox willingly moved, one arm swung around Claudio’s neck. It seemed to take all of his energy to do that. Quickly Yuta folded up another towel to put over the edge of the desk where Mox was bent over. Giving him a cushion he would need for their next round.

“Lay him back down, and lock him up.” Yuta helped lower Mox and put the cuffs back on. He noticed Mox twitched at being handcuffed again but didn’t outright panic. “Good boy. Ready for Claudio to fuck you?” 

“Claudio gets to fuck me?” Mox perked up.

"Yes, as a reward for being such a good boy." The praise made Claudio light up. Yuta reached up and pulled Claudio down for a rough kiss. "During the match and after." Yuta said once they broke apart, one last peck on the taller man's lips before they traded places.

The best words Yuta could use to describe Claudio were ‘service top.’ The man thrived on providing for them. Yuta could direct him and guide him to do anything and he just seemed so happy to do it. It was submissive in a way, and Yuta thought of Claudio as his sub in a lot of ways because of it.  Even when Claudio was fucking Yuta, it was Yuta running the show. 

“Do your worst, babe.” Yuta encouraged as he watched Claudio lather his huge cock with lube. “I want him to feel it tomorrow on our long drive home.”

“You got it.” Claudio had a little smirk on his face as he rubbed the head of his dick against Mox’s swollen hole.

“Please.” Mox whimpered as he tried to push his hips back. “Please, Claudio, please?” 

“Since you beg so nicely.” Claudio knew the cues from Yuta meant being a little rough and mean. “I think Yuta would like to hear you, so do not hold back.”

Without any more warning, Claudio pushed in and didn't stop until he bottomed out. The abrupt, huge intrusion made Mox scream. His back arched beautifully and his legs strained against the restraints as Claudio pushed into him as quickly as he could. If Yuta hadn’t been working Mox over all night, he probably wouldn’t be able to take it. But instead Mox was begging for more. Claudio pulled all the way out and pushed back in. Mox cried out again so Yuta decided it was time to keep him quiet. The fly to his jeans was snapped open and unzipped, his cock springing free finally. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Yuta said softly as he pressed the head of his cock between Mox’s slightly-parted lips. “Suck on this so you calm down, or at least don’t wake our neighbors.” 

Mox wasn't quiet, but he couldn't be loud with Yuta’s cock in his mouth. Yuta didn’t move. He just let Mox suck on his cock while Claudio started to speed up. The sounds coming from Mox were desperate. Small little whimpers and whines as Claudio slammed into him. 

"How's he feel?” Yuta asked over Mox, like he wasn't there.

“Fucking incredible.” Claudio laughed breathlessly. “You worked him open so much he just took my cock. Fuck..” Claudio trailed off in a line of German curses Yuta vaguely knew. 

“You look so hot fucking him.” Yuta thrust into Mox's mouth a little when he whimpered. “Fuck him harder.”

“My pleasure.” Claudio grinned.

Huge hands grabbed Mox’s hips to readjust him to where he needed to be. Claudio shuffled a little, and adjusted his own angle. All the while completely inside a quivering, whimpering Mox. It was clear to Yuta that if he could see Mox’s eyes they’d be vacant. Mox was so far gone, so down. Yuta knew this had been important for all three of them.

Claudio started slamming into Mox. Yuta peeked around the edge of the desk to see Claudio pull all the way out and with a powerful snap of his hips pushed all the way back into Mox. Over and over. The desk started to creak and move as Claudio brutalized their sub. Mox was crying out with each thrust. Pained little cries each time around the head of Yuta’s cock. After a minute or so Yuta pulled his cock out of Mox’s mouth, neighbors be damned he wanted to hear.

“G-Gonna--” Mox was panting, his body flushed red as sweat poured off of him.

“Going to come for me again, Mox?” Yuta teased, his fingers sliding through Mox’s sweaty, short hair. 

“Fuck---” Mox choked.

“Hang on,” Claudio was breathless now as he spoke. Finally some indication that he was in this situation. A quick shift of his hips and he leaned over Mox’s back. That was it. “There it is--”

“Claudio!” Mox jerked against the cuffs as Claudio found an angle that made him see stars. “Fuck, fuck!” 

“Damn.” Claudio kept going, but his voice was tight which meant Mox was tight.

“I can’t, I can’t--” Mox sobbed out to Yuta, his hand closest to his dom reaching out for him. Yuta took his hand quickly and squeezed.

“I don’t want to hear it, Mox.” Yuta leaned down to speak directly to the other. “Claudio’s having the time of his life using you up for me. You’ll take as much as I give you. Why?”

“Shit!” Mox rolled his hips forward and arched his chest off the table. “Damn it! Because it doesn’t stop until you say it stops!”

“You’re so good at following the rules. Good boy, Moxie.” Yuta smirked as he petted the other man. 

Yuta wasn’t sure if Claudio just hit the spot or if what he said did it but Mox snapped for a fifth time. The already high-strung body tensed even more. Broken cries left Mox’s scratched throat as his cock throbbed and spilled what it could onto the towel. Yuta watched as the tension refused to leave Mox as Claudio kept up his deep, hard thrusts. Mox’s orgasm was still rolling through him when Claudio followed over the edge. 

Quick reflexes allowed Yuta to get to Claudio and seal a hard kiss against his lips as he came. Claudio’s orgasms were everything to Yuta. He felt the hard, sculpted muscles all flex. His hands explored the expanse of Claudio’s chest as they kissed through Claudio’s orgasm. As he pumped his load into a crying Mox, Claudio whined into Yuta’s mouth. It took a moment for Claudio to finish completely. His swollen cock pulsing in Mox’s tight heat.

“What’re you up to now, Jon?” Claudio asked as he slowly, just to tease, pulled out. His come and lube leaked out behind him, trickling down Mox’s leg. “Jonny?” Claudio pinched Mox’s ass when he didn’t answer.

“F-Five! Fuck, C!” Mox’s voice was so raw he couldn’t even yell at this point.

“You must be tired.” Claudio took a hand towel off the side table and started cleaning off his softening cock. The ring eased off as he did so. 

“Y-Yeah…” Mox mumbled. 

“Can’t be too tired.” Yuta ran his hand down Mox’s back. “You still have to take care of me, big guy.” His hand slid over Mox’s ass then his fingers ghosted across Mox’s over sensitive hole, making him jump.

“Wheeler!” Mox’s voice broke in the middle of Yuta’s name. 

“That’s the only thing you’ll be saying soon.” Yuta chuckled at the near miserable sound Mox made. “Ready?”

“Y-Yeah…” Mox nodded against the desk. 

“Oh, fuck.” Yuta groaned as he started pushing in. 

Maybe it’d gross out other guys but Yuta loved going after Claudio or Bryan. ‘Sloppy seconds’ were great. Between Claudio’s come and the lube from earlier, Yuta could go in dry as he carved out a space for himself inside Mox. The glide was easy as Yuta bottomed out with a hefty sigh. He had waited a long time for this.

It always amazed Yuta how Mox could still feel so tight even after everything they had done. The other man clenched and spasmed around Yuta in a way that took his breath away. Before the BCC, Yuta was no virgin by any stretch, but Mox was by far the best bottom Yuta ever had.

“Oh, shit.” Yuta’s head was thrown back and his eyes closed as he savored being in his favorite place. “You were right, C. He feels incredible.” Mox whimpered at the admission and Claudio chuckled. 

“He feels like no one else.” Claudio was back at the head of the desk with Mox, gently massaging his neck as Yuta had his religious experience. 

“Never fucked anyone who feels like you, big guy.” Yuta was already panting, his hips rolling a little as he sought to memorize this moment. 

“Wheeler,” Mox moaned against the wood. 

“Fuck, Mox, I can feel Claudio’s come in you.” Yuta grunted, his hips snapping harder. “Fuck. That’s so hot.” 

It was like Claudio had some sort of superpower; he could see Yuta unraveling quickly. Suddenly, he was flush against Yuta’s back. One of his huge arms wrapped around Yuta’s chest, his palm laying flat over the erratic heart trying to beat its way past Yuta’s skin. The other hand found Mox’s hip and kept all three of them together.

“It’s okay.” Claudio whispered, his mouth close to Yuta’s ear as he nuzzled against his neck. “I have you, Wheeler. I’m right here, and so is Jon.” 

“Claudio.” Yuta whispered as he leaned into the large chest behind him. 

“You’ve been holding on so tightly.” Claudio started moving their hips so Yuta was thrusting into Mox. “Let go. I’ll catch you.” The last part was said with a kiss behind Yuta’s ear. 

“Fuck. Yes.” Yuta started thrusting harder.

“Tell him to take it.” Claudio encouraged, giving the younger man room to start recklessly fucking their sub.

“That’s right, Mox, fucking take it.” Yuta grunted out.

It was clear Mox was still enjoying himself when he moaned loudly at the words. That just made Yuta go harder, Claudio at his back as a safety net. Everything felt so good. Letting loose was needed. It all made Yuta feel so powerful and invincible. No loss mattered right now because he was buried deep in Jon Moxley.

The rattle of the restrains was from Yuta as he fucked Mox for all he's worth. At this point Mox was boneless and panting hard. Few moans and groans came out of him. Another encouragement from Claudio spurred Yuta on, his hand coming up to the back of Mox's head. He pushed Mox's face into the hard desk.

"Take it, motherfucker." Yuta grunted, his fingers digging into Mox’s upper back and neck. "You'll take it just like I took all of that shit from the Elite." The next part came out darker. “From Hangman.” 

That made Mox hitch and cry out. The way Hangman hung them both, and the fact Mox tapped while Yuta refused to, was eating at Mox. There was something Yuta needed, reaching for it but couldn’t find just yet. His hips still snapped hard in shallow yet satisfying movements.

A large, warm hand reached around to lay just over Yuta's navel, slowing him down and grounding him as Claudio whispered a plan to him. At first Yuta was annoyed at being stopped but warmed up to the idea as Claudio explained it, his hand rubbing gently against Yuta’s navel to calm him down. His hips shallowly thrusting against Mox despite Claudio holding him back still. 

“Let’s do it.” Yuta nodded sharply before pulling out of Mox, the last of his self control. 

“Ah?” Mox grunted in confusion.

“Sh. We’re moving you.” Claudio explained as Yuta took a few steps back to collect himself. “Well, I think I’ll be moving you.” 

It was easier to let Claudio get Mox moved. Yuta felt like if he so much as touched Mox they might both violently explode. The larger man hoisted Mox off the desk and put him on the bed face-up. Claudio gave Mox a few sharp slaps to the face to bring him back some, then restrained each hand to the headboard. A few pillows were shoved under Mox’s ass.

The same hands that had calmed Yuta roamed over Mox’s battered body to soothe him as well. Yuta watched the paths Claudio traced over the damage. It was so enticing to Yuta to undo the healing Claudio had done, to pick and scratch at stitches and bandages. He knew Mox would like it, but he couldn’t bring himself to undo what Claudio had already fixed.

“He’s all yours again, Yuta.” Claudio leaned down to kiss Mox, biting at his bottom lip until Mox whined. “Show him how sorry he really should be.” 

Just as Yuta was darting to get onto the bed, Claudio was hoisting Mox’s legs up. The position left Mox’s battered ass totally exposed. Puffy, used hole gaping. Completely open for Yuta and on display. Leaking lube and Claudio's come. The bruises and marks from both them and the match framed Mox's abused hole perfectly.

Yuta sank right in. Mox made the most beautiful punched out noises as Yuta pushed all the way in one go. Each of Mox's long legs were hooked over Yuta's shoulders to free up Claudio’s hands. The perky, tight nipples nestled in ginger hair were plucked cruelly by Claudio.

"Fuck, Mox!" Yuta threw his head back. "Holy shit." 

The hard, unforgiving thrusts started to find a pace. A pace that left Mox whimpering as his legs were pushed back and Yuta pistoned into him. Every ounce of strength Yuta had went into wrecking Mox's hole. One of Yuta's hands held onto Mox's ankle so hard he was sure it'd bruise.

At that moment, something came over Yuta. The hand on Mox's ankle let go and moved between them. In one quick movement, Yuta tore away the blindfold to reveal Mox's glassy, lost, pale blue eyes shining behind the vacant look Yuta fucked into him. There was a moment where Mox didn't realize he could see until he locked eyes with Yuta's fiery, angry gaze. A whimper escaped the bound man when Yuta's hand wrapped dangerously around his throat.

"Yuta?" Mox begged, his body arching up into the other like he was expecting, wanting what would come next.

"You want it?" Yuta pushed his legs to the side so he could lean in closer, his hips still snapping. "Wanna know what it felt like?" The dazed look on Mox’s face was slapped off him. “Answer me!”

"Y…Yes! Fuck, yes!" Mox admitted, even though they all knew Mox had experience with what it felt like to be hung by the Hangman.

That simple yes flipped Yuta's switch. There was a reason Claudio was nearby. The calloused hand around Mox's throat closed tightly, effectively cutting off his air to just a wheeze. It lit Yuta's blood on fire as he watched Mox's eyes roll back in his head. More pressure was added, making Mox tense up and jingle his cuffs.

All of Yuta's focus was on choking Mox out and fucking him into the mattress. At first Yuta didn't realize he was spitting out degrading comments at Mox as sweat poured off of them both. A gentle tap on Yuta's choking hand let him know it was time to ease up, but he didn't for a moment. When he finally let go Mox sucked in a harsh, desperate breath that was quickly slapped out of his mouth.

"Go again." Claudio green lit as he watched the color come back to Mox's ruby red face.

"Fuck you!" Yuta pushed down again.

The pressure left Mox spluttering and gasping, eyes fluttering and out of focus. Yuta felt incredible, powerful even. His dick held tightly by Mox's sore hole, and his hand held tightly around Mox's throat. It amazed him that he was still hanging on.

After a moment Claudio tapped on the same hand. This time Yuta let up easier. When Mox opened his mouth to bring in some air Yuta moved on instinct. He leaned over Mox, a hand braced on the bed behind Mox's head, and spat into Mox's open mouth. It registered as a shock but Mox didn't spit out Yuta's saliva. Instead his eyes shined up at his brutalizer. Yuta did it again, and again. Watching as Mox swallowed each time until he went back to choking Mox.

This time Mox struggled more, tensed up more, and Yuta could feel it. Every muscle tensed up in a glorious moment that had Yuta in pure euphoria. Mox's loose legs came up to wrap around Yuta, the younger man could feel heels digging into him so he pushed harder. The only sounds in the room were their heavy breathing, the slapping of skin on skin, and the wet slip of Mox's hole.

"Fuck!" Yuta moaned loudly. "Oh, fuck, Mox."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please." Mox gargled, his voice clipped and raw.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up." Yuta punctuated each word with a harsh thrust.

"Yuta," Claudio was staring at him, now that he didn't need to worry about him choking Mox. "You look incredibly sexy like this."

"Thanks, C." Yuta grinned at that, their eyes meeting over the overstimulated body of their sub.

"I could watch you fuck him for hours." Claudio said truthfully as he gripped the reinvigorated length in his shorts. It never took Claudio long to get hard again. "So powerful."

"Get over here." Yuta demanded.

The hand that had just been a weapon on Mox pulled Claudio in close. Yuta sealed his lips together in a heated kiss, like Yuta needed to crawl inside Claudio. Mox had a full view of their kiss and whined at the display.

"Holy, fuck!" Yuta ripped himself away from Claudio at the sudden, overwhelming feeling in his dick.

Yuta looked down with a tight smirk as he realized Mox came again. Another time. He couldn't get enough of that. The thin, dripping liquid sprayed across Mox's body. Thankfully Claudio had the presence of mind to ease off the ring restricting Mox's exhausted cock. Yuta was captivated as he watched as Mox’s cock went soft, and laid against his thigh. 

"Thank--" Mox could barely move his head to the side to look up at Claudio. "--you."

"You're very welcome, tigerli." Claudio smiled down.

Mox stained up a little like he wanted to kiss Claudio so the Swiss giant leaned in to take his mouth. Keeping in the spirit of the scene, Claudio claimed Mox's mouth in a dominating attack. One huge hand wrapped around Mox's neck, fingers ghosting where Yuta's hand shaped bruises would be tomorrow. Mox made a sweet sound at the aggressive display of affection so Claudio dove deeper. His hand tightened and his mouth worked harder. Yuta watched the erotic moment while he fucked the last of it out of Mox.

"You guys are so fucking hot. Fuck. Shit." Yuta felt his breaking point coming.

The moment the younger man would shatter was just on the horizon. It was clear to Claudio that  his work was getting to Yuta, so he worked Mox's mouth more, pulling hefty noises from their sub and closing his hand harder so Mox would tighten up.

"That's it, fuck! That's it!" Yuta called out as he slammed one last time all the way into Mox.

Come spilled into Mox as he moaned, exhausted and loud. Much like Mox, it was pure heaven for Yuta as he felt his warm fluid coat the insides hugging him tightly. It felt so good Yuta had to keep thrusting into the gushy mess. Wave after wave crashed over Yuta, never-ending sparks dancing up his spine. Everything felt incredible for a long moment, but Yuta thought he deserved more. 

Yuta collapsed onto Mox's chest. Both arms slid up Mox's sides as Yuta's forehead met Mox's chest. His arms easily hooked over Mox's shoulders to get leverage for the still reckless thrusts Yuta delivered. In one last burst of energy Mox managed to wrap his legs over Yuta's hips and lock his legs by crossing his ankles.

"Still want more, huh?" Yuta grunted against the skill he rested on.

"S-Stops when you say." Mox mumbled, his tone showing he had clearly given up.

"Goddamn right." Yuta grunted as he chased for more. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Mox whined as Yuta used his body in punishment.

"C-Claudio?" Yuta stammered out, one hand groping for his referee.

"I'm right here." Claudio shifted up onto his knees and took Yuta's hand. 

"Need--" Yuta squeezed the Swiss man's hand. "Wan-want you. More--" 

"Is it my lucky night, sternli?" Claudio chuckled as he moved around Yuta to settle behind him, a perfect view of Yuta's ass.

"You deserve it." Yuta groaned. "And I wanna make more of a mess."

"You want to make Jon more of a mess." Claudio placed his hands on Yuta's ass, kneading and groping him.

"Claudio." Yuta pushed back against the hands fondling his ass. 

"Yuta." Mox moaned as the other nearly slipped out.

"Fuck," Yuta pushed into Mox again with a heavy shudder. "God damn it." 

"Stay still, Wheeler." Claudio commented as he started to move off the bed to grab what he needed from the moved bedside table Yuta had used earlier. "Here--"

Before climbing back onto the bed, Claudio unlocked Mox's cuffs from the corners. Mox's arms fell limp onto the mattress. There was a growl from Yuta when his charge was set free, but Claudio quickly shushed that as his nimble fingers clipped Mox's cuffs together. Mox moved his arms down and dropped them over Yuta's neck, pulling him closer. Yuta turned his head in to meet in a harsh lip lock with his sub, pushing Mox down into the bed.

"Oh, fuck!" Yuta broke the kiss to moan as Claudio's lubed fingers circled his hole. "Fuck being a tease tonight, C."

"Still ever the dom, Wheeler." Claudio kissed the tense muscles along Yuta's back.

"And?" Yuta demanded, throwing a look over his shoulder. His eyes blazing with the taunt to Claudio to challenge him. Simply being bent over didn’t mean Yuta still couldn’t dom his boys.

"It's sexy." Claudio leaned forward to kiss the corner of Yuta's downturned mouth as he slid in a finger. "Love it when you tell me what to do."

"Ah." Yuta's eyes slid closed as he arched his back. "That's why you're mine." The growl came out of the smaller man, much louder and meaner than he meant but Claudio's cheeks turned rosy so Yuta ran with it. "Only use for you is getting that big dick inside me."

“Yes, Sir.” Claudio may have been trying to tease but the breathlessness in his two words told Yuta he knew it was true.

There were some words spoken in another language but Yuta was pretty sure that Claudio was cursing, mesmerized by Yuta's dirty talk. The toy Yuta used earlier on Mox was pressed against Yuta’s hole and eased in. There was a skill to it that Claudio possessed that made being stretched open the most pleasurable, erotic experience possible. The toy reached home making Yuta let out a few curses before turning his face into Mox’s neck, his lips and teeth finding skin to damage. The toy worked Yuta open in the most tantalizing way. Yuta could feel his cock twitching and pulsing inside of Mox’s warmth. 

The pleasure radiating off Yuta was that of a deserving God. As if Mox and Claudio owed him this worship. Yuta wanted to come again, and maybe more, and his boys owed him that. The toy had yet to be turned on, but Claudio was expertly fucking Yuta. Soft moans started to build in his chest as he rocked into Mox while Claudio fucked him.

"Ah, that’s it.” Yuta pushed up a little so that he wouldn’t be muffled. “My personal dildo and cock warmer." Yuta grunted, his head moving so they could hear. Mox's arms tightened. "My personal sex toys."

"Wheeler," Mox moaned, his hips rolling.

“We have a nine hour drive tomorrow.” Yuta growled against Mox’s cheek. “Going to have you in the backseat.” His words came out huskier now. “Keep you on my dick the entire time.”

“Ohh.” Mox’s body shuddered at the threat.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, slut?” Yuta laced the words with a little condescension. “Forced to keep my cock warm. Well, maybe not forced.”

“Yes.” Mox hissed. “Please, please.”

“You don’t have to beg, slut.” Yuta tried to laugh but couldn’t get the air to do it. “It’s going to happen.”

Before either man could respond the toy was turned on. Yuta cried out and pushed into Mox as deep as possible. The vibrations passed through Yuta to ghost through Mox. Little whimpers escaped the sub as Yuta shallowly fucked into him. It felt like Claudio sent Yuta straight to the moon. Something massive and hard was pressed into Yuta’s hip as the toy eased out about half and then thrust back in.

“Oh, fuck. Your dick is going to feel so good, Claudio.” Yuta reached back with one hand to grip Claudio’s hip.

“Hm. You’re going to feel good wrapped around it.” Claudio kissed trails down Yuta’s damaged back. “For now, I’m content watching you take this toy.”

“Yeah. Fuck me, baby.” Yuta got himself up, bracing on either side of Mox’s head with his hands. 

The invitation was met by Claudio. He pulled the toy out, added more lube, and pushed it back in. He continued that, forcing Yuta to relax and enjoy what was happening. There weren’t any words Yuta could form so he attacked Mox’s mouth. Violently, lips clashed with lips and hips met hips as Yuta and Mox tangled together in pleasure. Claudio’s hardon rocking against Yuta’s hip had Yuta’s dick aching, and the feeling of Mox’s wet, sloppy hole tensed tightly around him sent Yuta into the best kind of overstimulation. 

To Yuta it felt like a progress bar quickly loading. Everything kept adding up and adding up until it was too much. It was a glorious feeling. Yuta could hear the whines and whimpers forming desperate words as Mox felt Yuta come deep inside him again. Passively accepting his role in Yuta’s world as his personal cumdump. Behind him was Claudio, speaking heavily about how much Yuta deserved to let go, how good and tough he was; all the while Claudio rutted against his hip. It was perfectly consuming. 

“Easy, easy.” Claudio pulled the toy out with one hand while the other gently stroked the jut of Yuta’s hip.

“Fuck.” Yuta moaned as the toy slid out, the obscene sound of lube following that had everyone groaning. “That was so fucking good.” 

“Your hole…” Claudio trailed off, mesmerized by Yuta’s ass. 

“Feels good.” Mox mumbled, totally out of it except for feeling the multiple loads of come and lube inside him. Yuta was still nestled firmly inside, small thrusts and the cock ring helping to keep him hard. “Good. Fuck. So good.”

“That’s because you’re a fucking whore.” Yuta growled, giving a harsh thrust of his hips to both of their overstimulated bodies. “Feels good because you’re a cock slut, right? Say it, Mox.” One of Yuta’s hands came up to wrap around his sub’s throat, thumb already applying pressure.

“I’m--” Mox groaned, his eyes rolled back into his head as he leaned back to allow Yuta more room. “I’m a fucking cock slut!” 

“That’s fucking right.” Yuta felt like he was zooming, his body prickling with pain and pleasure. “Whose cock slut are you, Mox?” 

“Yours!” Mox called out, his already hard voice rubbed rougher from all the noise he had been making. “I’m a cock slut and I belong to you and Bryan.”

“Good boy.” Yuta leaned down to kiss Mox. 

Claudio’s large hands had been kneading at the meat, what little there was, of Yuta’s backside. It was like he was in a trance, his cock still hard and aching against the beautifully bruised thigh. Without much thought, since Claudio was pretty far gone, he slid two fingers deep into his Dom. Yuta’s shout was swallowed by Mox, who realized what was happening and started devouring Yuta’s mouth as Claudio fingered him.

More lube and another finger. Skilled strokes inside of Yuta like Claudio was playing his favorite instrument. One of Yuta’s knees forced Mox’s leg up more so he could scoot up and show more of his ass. They all were on cloud nine–even Mox, who was holding up 190 pounds of pro wrestler and had a spent dick by now. Through all the fog and haze of dom space, Yuta realized they all needed this after the loss they had. Not just because Mox had tapped for Yuta, but because they needed to be close again. In that moment of clarity, Yuta yearned for Bryan. Not so that he would be in charge or do all the leg work, but because they weren’t complete without him. And this was as whole as they could get right now.

“Sternli, please?” Claudio was completely out of breath and desperate. “Please, I need--”

“Shhh.” Yuta broke away from Mox and pushed himself up again, his eyes looking over his shoulder at Claudio. “You’re allowed to fuck me now, Claudio. Take what you need, baby.”

Relief was clear on the Swiss man’s face as he moved over to center himself behind Yuta. With four fingers of one hand gently stretching Yuta out to accommodate him, Claudio’s other hand grabbed the lube and dripped a generous amount onto his throbbing cock. The fingers left, Yuta growled at the loss but it quickly faded into a moan when the thick, blunt head of Claudio pressed against his hole. 

Like with most things, Yuta was always a champ about taking Claudio. The tip popped in with some force, causing a shared moan from both men. For a moment Claudio let them both adjust before easing in more. Even though Yuta was in fact a size queen, and used to taking Claudio, it wasn’t a process that could be rushed. One of Claudio’s arms wrapped around Yuta’s hips. The slow, tight glide was one of Yuta’s favorite things as Claudio made himself at home in Yuta’s hole. The burn was more intense the deeper Yuta was impaled.

The added bonus of Mox quaking around him had Yuta so far gone he didn’t know what to do with himself. Pushing off of Mox’s chest, Yuta hoisted himself up, one arm going over his shoulder to grab onto Claudio. Yuta’s back met Claudio’s front, and the hand wrapped around the back of the larger man’s neck making his chin sit on Yuta’s shoulder. The movement pushed Claudio deeper; they both groaned and Yuta arched his back. 

“Don’t you,” Yuta was panting hard, his body heating up again and causing sweat to pour off of him. Bangs plastered to his forehead. “Don’t you dare--” Yuta started over, growling the words at the man fucking him. “--come inside me.”

“Y-Yes, Sir.” Claudio confirmed, though confused. Normally Yuta wanted to feel Claudio come.

“You have to ask permission.” Yuta skipped over Claudio’s confusion. “Now get that cock all the way inside me.”

“Yes, Sir.” Claudio groaned, his head moving to be tucked against Yuta’s neck with his forehead on the smaller man’s shoulder. Both of Claudio’s arms were wound around Yuta to hold him up. “Anything for you, Sternli.”

“Good boy.” Yuta smiled lazily, turning to kiss Claudio’s temple. “As for you--” Yuta turned his attention back to Mox, his hand coming out of nowhere to smack Mox across the face. “You didn’t think I forgot about my favorite hole, did you?” Another smack.

“N-No.” Mox blinked hard a few times. His eyes were vacant and Yuta got a kick out of being the one to create that look.

“Does it feel good to still have my cock in you, Mox?” Yuta rubbed the reddened cheek just above Mox’s beard as the cuffed man nodded. “Say it then.”

“It feels fucking good to still have your cock in me.” Mox’s eyes fluttered a little as he rolled his hips.

“You should be grateful to even have my dick after what you did tonight.” Yuta scowled as he slapped the other man again. “Fuck, Claudio, that feels good.” The soft shallow thrusts sent waves of pleasure over him.

“I am grateful.” Mox moaned as Claudio’s thrusting started to transfer to him. “Grateful for your cock, Yuta.” Now that Mox’s hands weren’t cuffed down he brought them cuffed together to Yuta’s throat where the bruises from Hangman’s chain decorated his Dom. “Grateful for your come. Grateful for you.”

“You’re grateful I still let you be my greedy bitch.” Yuta’s voice got darker. Comforting hands squeezed him as Claudio slowly fucked him. “Grateful for my spit too.” 

Instead of repeating the words Mox opened his mouth like an offering to his God. That made Yuta’s head spin. The hands holding him up loosened some as Yuta leaned down. One of his hands gripped Mox’s chin while he spat into the offered mouth. Mox swallowed without hesitation so Yuta did it again.

“Fuck.” Claudio cursed over Yuta’s shoulders, his thrusts going deeper and his pace speeding up. The sight alone got him going and Yuta felt too good around him to hold back that much.

“That’s it, C. Fuck me.” Yuta growled. He reached out to grab Mox’s cuffed hands and brought them over his head. The links between the cuffs were held down by Yuta’s hand as he braced himself on the bed. “You’ve been good, Moxie. Maybe you deserve a reward.”

“Reward?” Mox moaned, his body being shook by the harder work of Claudio. 

“Yeah. A reward…” Yuta trailed off, his body leaning a little to one side so he could reach between them and take Mox’s soft, aching cock in hand.

“Wheeler.” Mox whined as his eyes slammed shut. The light grip alone was enough to send quakes through him. “Fuck, oh fuck. Please?” 

“Please what? I bet you don’t even know.” Yuta teased the head of Mox’s cock. “You wanna come again for me, Moxie?” Yuta grinned as Mox shook his head quickly. “Does it matter what you want?” 

“No.” Mox groaned and kept shaking his head.

“Good boy.” Yuta reached out to fondle Mox’s sore balls, making him gasp and twitch. 

“You know who does deserve to come again?” Claudio asked, his head still resting on Yuta’s shoulder as he fucked into the smaller man.

“Who?” Yuta asked back as he gave a light tug on Mox.

“You.” Claudio started kissing Yuta's neck. 

"You're right." Yuta was glowing. Both of these men were working to bring Yuta pleasure and that went straight to his head. "Make me come then."

"I will, Sir." Claudio grunted, taking the challenge seriously as he bent Yuta over more to get a better angle.

"Oh, fuck!" Yuta moaned loudly and had to drop onto his elbow. The other hand was still torturing Mox's balls.

"Wheeler." Mox whined, shaking his head. "Can't--" Mox let out a horse shout when Yuta tugged harder. "Need--?" It was hard for him to gather his words.

"Fuck do you need, slut? You're getting what you deserve." Yuta said through gritted teeth as Claudio sped up. 

"Gag?" Mox finally got the word out, his body twitching and jerking at the attention he was getting.

"Ah." Yuta mumbled. "Of course." He grabbed the blindfold that was just a bandana and stuffed that into Mox’s mouth, making him gag a little. "Better?"

"Ymm." Mox nodded as he bit down on the cloth. 

"Good. 'Cause I don't want to ruin the neighbors’ night doing this-" Yuta gave a cruel squeeze to Mox's balls, making him scream. Luckily it was muffled. "Fuck yeah. Love that." The tensed, pained muscles gripping Yuta made him feel lightheaded. 

"Feels so good." Claudio moaned. "Him tensing up makes you tighter, Wheeler."

"Feels fucking great." Yuta closed his eyes as he felt himself succumb to the feeling of being sandwiched between both of them. "This is where you both belong."

"Fuck." Claudio shook his head, his hands gripping Yuta's hips harder.

"Mhm." Mox made some sort of sound but nothing got through so he bucked his hips.

"Ha. He wants more, C." Yuta let his hand return to Mox's shaft and give that a good squeeze.

Everyone moaned together when Mox cried out and thrashed under them. The tight heat pawing at Yuta's sanity intensified and Claudio took that moment to start thrusting harder. Yuta felt the shift of Claudio putting one foot on the bed to fuck him better. His large cock hit Yuta just right deep inside. With the edge fast approaching, Yuta released Mox's cock and gave it a few good slaps. The gag kept all of Mox's noises down but it drove Yuta crazy. The reactions he was getting made him want to stay right here forever.

The tension bled out of Mox. He relaxed and went limp on the bed. Yuta gathered his breath and shifted his hips so Claudio could get more out of him. It was too close to ending and Yuta wasn't ready so he gave himself and Mox a moment to rest. A little denial for Claudio since Yuta knew he liked to work for it. One large arm wrapped around Yuta’s middle.

“You are such a tease.” Claudio groaned in his ear, breathless and helpless to Yuta’s control over their joint pleasure. “Bring it home, sternli.” 

“If you insist.” Yuta sighed but took the signal. There was no telling what time it was at this point. “You ready to finish this off, big guy?” Yuta grinned at the whine his sub made around the gag.

Yuta’s firm hand wrapped around Mox’s cock again, he could feel Mox trying to get hard again. The jumps and twitches against his palm made Yuta moan. His hips started rolling, eyes closing as he let him go and tried to focus on the moment. Feeling everything both men had to give him after he gave so much for them.

Mox bucked up against Yuta again, trying to beg for more without words. It would be funny if Yuta wasn’t so turned on. His hand gave one final, mean jerk of Mox’s cock before reaching down to palm his balls. The tired eyes looking up at Yuta were pleading for more, and as far as Yuta was concerned it was his job to give more. So he started to grip Mox’s sorest area and give his sac a rough twist. 

It worked like magic and Yuta felt everything start to topple over. His body started to shudder as Mox arched off the bed and cried into his arm. Yuta was barely even able to fuck into Mox with how tight he tensed up, and Claudio knew exactly when to start heading for home. His thrusts rocked Yuta to his core. Hard, long, deep assaults on Yuta’s hole; his only mission was to get Yuta off. 

“Fuck! That’s--” Yuta choked on his own words as he came deep inside Mox. Again. 

It felt never-ending. Little tugs made Mox convulse and milk Yuta’s cock in a way that made his orgasm stretch out at Mox’s expense. Through the haze of it, Yuta could see Mox’s cock trying so hard to come again. Finally, as Yuta came down from the high, he let go of Mox’s balls and slumped forward onto him with a huge sigh. Claudio pushed deep into Yuta’s warm hole and held the base of his cock, trying to push off his orgasm and wait for permission. 

“Please?” Claudio finally broke, his voice had a tremor through it. “Wheeler, I can’t--”

“Shh. Claudio, easy. I haven’t forgotten.” Yuta knew he was taking a little too long to be fair so he pushed himself up and finally pulled out of Mox’s sloppy hole. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah…” Claudio mumbled in agreement as he watched. 

“You want that, right?” Yuta smirked at the look on Claudio’s face.

“I do.” Claudio looked so close to breaking.

“Finish inside him.” Yuta shifted and started to pull away.

Both of them groaned at the loss but Claudio was quick. Maybe Mox had shut off or just hadn’t heard, but he jumped when Claudio’s huge hands grabbed his hips without much thought to the bruises and injuries. Quickly, Claudio had Mox’s shoulders down on the bed, holding Mox’s hips as he pushed all the way inside. It was partially a high stack, and Yuta didn’t miss that. Claudio was pinning Mox. Asserting himself over the other. If Yuta hadn’t just had an earth shattering orgasm he would have gotten hard again. 

“Fuck!” Claudio grunted as he worked himself in and out with ease. “You know how to tighten up, Jon.” 

“Just slap his balls.” Yuta teased but Claudio did just that.

“Ah!” Mox cried out, his back arching but he couldn’t move as Claudio pinning him. 

“Better.” Claudio moaned, letting his head fall back and enjoying himself. 

Mox whimpered at another few smacks. The feeling had Claudio’s hips stuttering and snapping hard. He was so close. Yuta leaned up quickly to kiss him. Both of Yuta’s hands grabbed Claudio by the neck, much like he would in the ring, and directed the Swiss man into a hard kiss. While Yuta swept Claudio’s mouth he must have smacked Mox again because the sub thrashed under them and Claudio moaned loudly against his mouth before breaking off to breathe. 

Claudio was beautiful when he came–no less than he usually was. The light flush of his cheeks and chest, the battle wounds and scars, the tensed muscles. Yuta watched as the larger man kept giving Mox shaky, shallow thrusts as he came down from his own high.

“You look so hot.” Yuta grinned, leaning forward to kiss him again but softer. “Pull out. I wanna see what he looks like.”

“Shit, Wheeler.” Claudio laughed as he slowly eased out. “You’re still going?” 

“Kinda.” Yuta grinned back at the Swiss man. “Look. How can you not when he looks like that?” 

“...You’re right.” Claudio moaned as he watched Mox’s gaping hole. “Here.” He reached down to take the gag out. “Color?”

“Green.” Mox mumbled like he didn’t even care that they were admiring his ass like this.

“He’s just as bad as you.” Claudio teased as he watched Yuta gather the come and lube around Mox’s hole and push it back in.

“Fuck…” Mox let out a low moan. “God damn.” 

“Like that?” Yuta chuckled. “Hang on. There’s someone else who’d like to see this.” Yuta stretched over to reach his phone on the bedside table and pulled the camera out. 

“Bry?” Mox lit up a little.

“Yeah. For Bry.” Yuta held his phone up and without even having to ask, Claudio reached out to hold Mox’s cheeks open so he could get a clear view. 

“Fuck you guys.” Mox grunted but there was no real threat. “When’d I ‘come a porn star?” 

“You could have done well as a porn star if wrestling hadn’t worked out.” Claudio gave the bruised ass under his hand a hard smack.

“You’re our porn star, big guy.” Yuta shifted back. “You wanna see if we can get Bryan to call us?” Mox’s eyes shot open and he nodded quickly. “Alright. Claudio, push everything back in again, like I did. Really sell it for the camera, Moxie.” 

“You got it.” Claudio made sure Yuta was recording.

The video started as Claudio circled Mox’s twitching hole, gathering the fluids that had leaked up. His fingers ran over the puffy rim making Mox gasp and jerk against Claudio’s grip. After a few seconds of teasing Claudio pushed two of his large fingers into Mox.

“Bry.” Mox moaned loudly, making a show of it and arching as Claudio finger fucked him a little. That little whining undertone that everyone knew Mox used to drive Bryan crazy. “Fuck, Bry.” 

Yuta cut the video and sat back on his heels, having to take a moment to breathe. Mox could play dirty and he knew how to play the filthy devotion between the two of them well. It was always hot to watch, but to see Mox really play it up made Yuta want to go again. Instead he sent a few photos and then the video with the caption “it’s done (except your part).” 

The best part to Yuta was that in a few minutes they’d all be in the bathroom, taking showers and cleaning up, which meant they’d miss Bryan’s horny call. Yuta figured he owed a little fun to Bryan, too. Maybe he would follow through on the threat to make Mox his cock warmer for the entire trip home and drive Bryan a little crazy with that. 

“You ready, sternli?” Claudio asked as he finally let Mox lie flat on the bed and started working off his cuffs. 

“Yeah. Let’s get cleaned up. Hey,” Yuta leaned over Mox.

“What?” Mox grumbled but was clearly on cloud nine.

“You did good, Mox.” Yuta sealed the statement with a sweet kiss. 

[paper-pustaka]

Welcome to the Hyunam-Dong Bookshop by Hwang Bo-Reum; translated by Shanna Tan

Themes: 

Overlap of global themes and the Korean society - Burnout, work, divorce, family, relationships, drive and motivation.

Unique to Korean society - (Not)  fitting into society’s expectations and taboo topics  e.g. being in a ‘laid back’ job post-graduation, divorce 

Synopsis: 

This story follows Lee Yeongju’s courageous journey in rediscovering herself after a divorce.  She decides to open a neighbourhood bookstore, ‘The Hyundam-Dong Bookshop’,  which becomes a sanctuary for its employees and residents.

We meet Minjun, unable to  find a ‘corporate’ job, unlike most Korean graduates, he becomes a barista for the bookshop. Jimi, the coffee roaster, needs to stop tolerating her husband’s bad behaviours. Jingsuh, a crocheter,  has had others taking credit for her work. Having not been given a permanent position (despite years of service), she recently stands up for herself by quitting her job. Mincheol is a teenager who appears unmotivated, and Hyun Seongwoo, an author who runs seminars at the bookstore. Each character is trying to navigate life’s different challenges. Lastly, Yeongju may find herself in love again. 

Commentary:

This story follows Yeongju and the residents of Hyunam-Dong. Yeongju  decides to open a bookstore after a divorce. 

This book gives an insight into the societal norms and expectations of South Korean society. For instance, these themes are explored - the South Korean workplace culture,  having a ‘stable’ corporate/civil servant job after graduation,  studying hard, pleasing parents and how divorce is frowned upon in the society. 

The workplace culture is portrayed as quite harsh per Jingsuh’s experience. She is not a permanent staff member despite years of service and worse, her manager authorised a permanent staff to take credit for Jingsuh’s work. However, we also see the other side of the workplace culture in Yeongju, where Minjun’s presence as the barista helps her stay motivated to keep the bookstore running. She shows accountability as an employer to her employee. I also really like how hard Yeongju works to come up with interesting events for the bookstore such as the social media posts, the writing seminars and a bookclub. It is a bonus when Jingsuh decides to donate her crochet creations for the bookstore giveaway. 

In the book, Minjun, Mincheol and even Yeongju’s stories speak about pleasing one’s parents. Minju’s  parents want him to get a ‘stable’, civil service or corporate job, Micheol’s mum wants him to study hard and Yeongju’s mum is angry at her for getting a divorce. These characters rise above the societal expectations, and instead of pleasing their parents, they find themselves and do what is right for themselves.

The  book also depicts getting a ‘stable job’ post graduation as a  societal expectation. I don’t necessarily think that this is just unique to Korean society, but perhaps it is something that is common worldwide. 

I especially like Minjun’s story, where he realises that part of growing up is making your own decisions and having your own path. Despite getting hounded by his worrying mum  with his choice of becoming a barista, he does not back down. He realises that the Korean analogy about “buttoning up one’s shirt” is not entirely realistic. It speaks about how one may just go on about life, following the path set by society, but fails to consider other external circumstances which may impact the outcome of what one has been working towards. So, when Minjun realises that what he has been working towards is perhaps not achievable then, or that “his shirt has no buttons”, he changes his shirt. In other words, he decides to focus on what will work and is achievable for him.

Additionally,  the chapter ‘How we view work’, where Minjun is outspoken, serves as a reflection for us to rethink work, the rat-race and consider what truly matters in life. This particular chapter reminds me of some social media posts that I have seen where some share  about their ‘9-5 and 5-9’ life. They may appear to illustrate ‘productivity’, but in my opinion, if that lifestyle is the norm for them,  it will eventually lead to burnout. 

As for Jimi, her story speaks about being courageous. She has been putting up with her husband’s unacceptable behaviours for some time and no longer has reasons to make up excuses for it. She gives a lot of thought in deciding to leave a marriage that has not been working out for some time.  Whilst divorce  happens around the world, depending on where you are, it may be frowned upon. 

Finally, the story explores the possibility of finding new love, where Yeongju and Mr Seminar (Hyun Seongwoo) find a connection with each other. 

[yetisidelblog]

With a December 20th government funding deadline approaching, Congressional Republicans are working to slash over $20 billion from IRS enforcement, a direct attack on the agency's ability to catch wealthy tax cheats and help working families. A quirk in the current funding law means that an earlier $20.2 billion cut to the IRS enacted by Congress in March will be automatically repeated in December unless Congress includes language to block it.

If this cut takes effect, over 90% of the enforcement money that the IRS received to crack down on rich tax cheats—money intended to last the agency for a decade—will be gone and the IRS won’t have sufficient enforcement funds for 2025.

On top of this threat, House Republicans are seeking to cut the IRS’ annual budget even further, making for a one-two punch right before they seek even deeper tax cuts for the ultra-rich next year. Holding the line now is critical for both protecting the IRS and keeping Democrats accountable heading into next year’s fight over renewing the Trump tax law.

For too long, the ultra-wealthy and big corporations exploited an underfunded IRS to avoid paying what they owe in taxes.

Recent investments changed that. The IRS has recovered $1.3 billion from high-income Americans who failed to pay what they owe. Wait times for phone assistance have dropped from 28 minutes to just 3 minutes. The agency is answering 65% more calls than before. And, according to a recent survey, the new Direct File program has already saved 15,000 taxpayers $5.6 million in preparation fees.

Now Congressional Republicans want to protect their wealthy donors by gutting this progress. Their proposed cuts would cripple enforcement against tax cheats while degrading services for law-abiding families and small businesses.

Every tax dollar that the wealthy and large corporations evade paying translates into up to nine dollars taken away from our schools, our roads, or our support of veterans.

The choice is clear: We can continue making progress toward a fair tax system, or we can let Republicans drag us back to a time when the wealthy played by different rules than the rest of us.

Tell Congress: Don't cut IRS funding in the end-of-year government funding bill and stop wealthy tax cheats from evading what they owe.

Time sensitive! Please send a message now!

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[pinkanonwrites]

ohmigod does streamer au mean that Knives is like. Vash's twin that visits his apartment to ensure Vash is okay (as a disabled person myself who lives alone, i get weekly visits from my mom and brother lmao) and comes in with groceries, leaves with trash, comes over to drive Vash to his doctor appointments, and tells Vash to get a real job??

does the chat see Knives as like. a cryptid. and the chat spams with acknowledgement as Knives moves about in the background and Vash goes "Chat says hi! ...Knives?! Did you hear mE?! CHAT SAYS HI!!" and he shouts back "I heard you both times, but I'm not acknowledging your no-life-having enablers!" or some shit

Knives feels like he has a trenchcoat and briefcase and has some high-up position like, idk, i feel like hed be an enviromental lawyer but also a corporate lawyer yet he also feels like he could be a radio/podcast celebrity with Bad Takes (i might just be describing Andrew Tate or somebody whoops) and a reputation for being shitty to his fans. like i could Knives being either objective scum with a cult following. or being like a eco-friendly protestor who put a politician's house on fire but hasnt been caught bc he wore one of those face-masks that distorts pictures and made sure not to leave any finger-prints. maybe he's something in-between, like he supports PETA, i dunno. or maybe he and Vash are actually estranged

im really curious how you would characterize Knives in this au, theres definitely a lot to go with considering the vast differences in his 1998, 2023, and manga variations (im partial to 2023 myself, but manga is a close second and 1998 is in the dust for me personally) since his genocide nonsense doesn't have a 1-for-1 translation in a modern world. the only act of Knives that i can think of that would track is 2023!Knives blaming himself for Vash's amputation (as opposed to other variations, if i remember right, where Knives did it to punish Vash, i liked that they went with a "Knives did it bc he loves Vash and didnt see another way to save his brother" direction instead) bc maybe the amputation happened in an accident that Knives blames himself for Vash being a victim in. but yeah, so many variations

also Rem. but Rem is a bit easier because there's always the "Well, Rem is still dead" option mixed with "She was our foster mom" (oh, maybe Knives works in the Social Services) whereas Knives, again, has all these variations

(anyways, i have a Part 2 to this that's not related to me asking questions about your streamer au, but rather me just saying a hc i have for Vash+Knives Modern AU that is very biased to my own personal history and therefore is irrelevant to your streamer au, so do hold up briefly, i do wanna ramble about that bc rambling about Trigun Modern AUs is fun)

I think I can tell you guys some about the ideas I had in mind without spoiling too much!

So I've bounced it around a bit in my head, and I think I've come up with something that works for this AU in particular. Rem was in fact their foster mom, she adopted them both as babies. While Nai was a pretty normal kid growing up, a bit cynical and intelligent for his age but nothing concerning, Vash was the type of kid who got sick really often. Like, immunodeficient, multiple hospitalizations sick. I was thinking something like CVID, which makes it so you're way more susceptible to getting respiratory and lung infections. He was a happy kid, but in and out of the hospital a lot.

In late middle school he had a really bad reaction, and while rushing him to the hospital Rem got in a car accident that cost her her life and Vash his left arm. Vash feels like he's the whole reason the accident even happened in the first place, while Nai blames himself for Vash being even worse off because maybe if he'd just been able to keep calm Rem wouldn't have been so distracted. There's also a fair bit of survivor's guilt in him, being the only one who got out of the wreck generally unscathed.

So he's kind of taken himself up as his brother's keeper, balancing his own post-graduate work life with checking in on Vash, bringing him to appointments, and just generally making sure he doesn't do anything stupid. He's a conservation biology major and a huge ecology nut, who often says (in a deadpan tone that Vash thinks is a joke) that the planet would probably be better off if all the humans on itwere wiped out.

Nai has complicated feelings about Vash's streamer lifestyle. On one hand he's not as deeply, deeply depressed as he was in early high school, most days it being a chore for Nai to even get him to eat or drink. On the other hand, he thinks that a job like this isn't stable enough for Vash, that he could be doing more with his fantastic intelligence, and that Vash cares way too much about what random strangers on the internet think about him. It's the sparking point for many arguments, because as much as they love and care about each other, they just don't see the world from each other's viewpoints.

(He'd also never say it, but Nai is actually very grateful that Vash has Nicholas as a roommate. As much as he despises the guy, at least there's someone around to make sure Vash is eating real food and actually going outside when Nai isn't there to check on him.)

[terrence-silver]

Could we please have Terry body worshiping or just worshiping Beloved in general. Thanks :)

---

Nyotaimori. (女体盛)

He observed the practice in Japan back in the 80's and beforehand too, as far back as the 70's, in Korea; From Onsens to corporate company afterparties behind closed doors he frequented in high end Tokyo afterhours before the turn of the millennia. The act of being on display and the nude form being used as an artistic canvas for serving food presented on sanitized leaves on sufficiently flat areas of the physique while the subject lay perfectly still, not interacting with any of the patrons under the strictest traditional decorum. It translated to body sushi. Nantaimori (男体盛り) its male equivalent. Terry hums in contentment at the etymology as he observes the fish rolls and seaweed covering your nipples, forming an immaculate pattern. A handful of supple fruit, berries and black grapes in the crevice where your tights touched, forming a v-shape. Bamboo leaves and rose petals covering your legs riddled with circles of lined up fresh fruit, a colorful mosaic of Julienned Daikon raddish and thinly cut stripes of salted Anago eel and yellow melons. A fragrant, tiny, softly cooked, partially caramelized peach in your mouth, balanced carefully between two lips, serving as a makeshift, edible gag in a room filled with lit candles and a red tinted hue. A single red cherry adorning your bellybutton like a shimmering ruby. He never allowed any of his chefs to arrange this. His waiting staff. No catering service under the sun he could pay for in The Valley and beyond. They never laid a hand on you. Never saw you like this. He did this, all of it, personally. Laying you down. Undressing you. Decorating you. Washing you beforehand, not missing a single nook or cranny on your skin.

Doing so for himself. By himself. For his eyes only. For his taste buds.

Terry was both the artist and the consumer tonight.

Chopsticks long since forgotten and entirely discarded, Terry deliberately chooses to proceed ahead with a silver fork at his own leisure as he's seated in front of his very own spread on a table that is both the place of dining and your bed and he eats, savoring the Shizoake and the spiced rice served on your thigh, a single tiny round ceramic dish of soy sauce to dip his rounds into on your knee. Was there ever a better plate? -"In 2005, China outlawed this. Can you believe it?"- Custom demands that he don't speak to you but he supposes he can't resist, even though he knows you can't and shouldn't respond, the peach in your mouth standing as hindrance. He has to chuckle into his own chin, amused at the anecdote he was about to regale. -"It never ceases to amaze me how some people just don't know how to live."- He proceeds, shaking his head with a smile, the tip of the fork carefully impaling itself on a handful of Sashimi, making contact with your skin enough to pinch as he places the bite into his mouth, chewing. Content. Watching your body still. He washes the residual food down with a quick shot of Whisky. -"Not like us."- He adds tenderly, looking at you even though your gaze was firmly pinned to the ceiling from the position you were laying down in, your head resting on other end of the table, feet facing his torso. Each toe adorned with a ring of pineapples. You could hear him. Oh, you could hear him, even though you couldn't exactly see. -"We're so good together. So perfect."- He coos, leaning down, until his mouth was brushing against your smallest finger alongside his tongue, devouring the fruit crowning your toe, leaving the slickness of his saliva behind.

Kissing the aftermath.

You were delicious.

The most delectably delicious morsel Terry Silver's ever tried.

[boyakishantriage]

"My first time in space wasn't peaceful. As always."

Masked things ran down the street, guns held in open threats. Daring anyone to come forward, standing shoulder to shoulder, a voice muttering in english. Translators missing the language as she tuts. A mask of three orbs of some sort, jewels arranged within splendid masks. A mass show of power and force, weapons sharpened and soldiers silent as they broke ranks. Marching behind their leader, black cloak draped over her shoulder.

The door thundered open, the room hardly small enough to echo, but each step boomed with power. Even those with anything that could see behind saw a straight frowning face, keeping solid as she lounged in a seat.

"Princess, explain to me why your troops shit down my soldiers."

She glared at the servant beside her, as the girl stammered.

"You are mistaken. Many-"

CLICK.

"Don't pretend with me. Stop acting, or I'll shoot the most powerful woman on the planet."

The room almost immediately tensed, before loosening. Killers, runners. The scum of the earth, as always the best scum had rose to the top.

"... I thought Terrans had no such technology to reach us."

"I thought my deal was clear."

She'd cut in, an insult. But doubtful-

"Third degree, fourth punishment. Right?"

"... You dare-"

A finger held her blade down, glaring up at the larger girl she smiled.

"We have a deal, I'm willing to give you three more chances. Back down, or I kill your brother."

The threat echoed across the room, finger retracted as she made it clear.

"I have no brother."

Snapping her fingers, a young man were shoved in. Hind legs barely showing, a bag over his head.

"Well?"

She'd caught her blade, the iron cutting through her hand but she'd not even flinched. A warrior's custom, an ancient one at that.

"You dare-"

"Go against me? The stars themselves shall burn before I am done with you."

"... Osda 4th millenium."

"so, that's it?"

She snapped her fingers, soldiers thrown into the room.

"Nice try."

She dryly said, grasping the woman by the neck, her arm badly moving as she moved the woman down.

"How-"

Now at eye level, legs straining against the force she spoke loudly into her ear.

"I'm going to say this once. You have three chances, if the next time this happens. I'm killing these men, the second I'll throw them in. Then I'll slit their throats. Once more from that, I'm removing you from power."

"You dare-"

She'd been thrown across the room.

"I don't care about your lineage, your customs. Your little empire. If it were up to me, I'd tear your mind to shreds and leave you to see what I see. Now, am I clear?"

"I am the leader of the Federation-"

"You've seen the files about what we can do right? Our history, experiments. All of it?"

"..."

"That's just human, what we are. We're Hybrid. Hundreds of branches of humans who evolved into new dangerous species, so mixed blood we should be dead. And I'm a corporal, in a system built off strength. Do you really want to see what I can do?"

"..."

"It's ok if you're afraid, if you don't trust me. The best and worst people are. And if anyone in this room thinks their leader is weak..."

A heavy weight, hundreds of souls growing out her cloak. Silently roaring, weeping. Reaching out of the clock.

"Who else wants to see my cloth?"

Her blood had ran hot, bumps appearing across her skin. Tail frozen as she glared at the council.

"Everyone's dismissed, another council in a week-"

"So how long until anyone notices me?"

Wearing a cloak, red eyes shimmering with blood. The girl looks around.

"Captain Vampy at your service, member of the Bitches subsect of the Wolves. Consider me keeper of peace and your emergency soldier. Order follows your systems hierarchy, and before you ask. Yes. I'm the Terran species of Vladat, and no. I don't have any of the weaknesses they had."