#irreverent synopsis

[s0dium]

PEEPING TOM

A/n: Its good to be back, I also will be doing kink tober! Yay!

Synopsis: In which you find a peephole in your wall, allowing you to spy on your neighbor Gojo Satoru

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Peeping Tom, mutual masturbation, masturbation, slight dub-con, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, breeding, Dom!Gojo, fingering, rough sex

MINORS DNI

~

The first time it happened, it was an accident.

It was day numero uno in your new dorm at Tokyo Jujutsu High. You were hesitant at first enrolling, being suddenly uprooted from an overall normal life into a world of curses and sorcerers was a, well, definitely a shocking experience for you. In fact, today was a boring blur for you, by the time you were done moving in it was nightfall and the only people you met were principle yaga and an old guy.

So you didn't expect the most exciting part of your day would be finding a peep hole right at eye view of you when you sat up on your bed. 

Of course you pay no attention to it, this was a pretty old Japanese building after all. It was when you were searching up what the hell “spackle was” when you heard a loud “FUCK” coming from the other side of the wall. 

Well that's interesting.

You know it's wrong, you wouldn't want peering in on you. But curiosity got the better of you as you sat down on your bed and aligned your eye with the hole. 

From what you could see, your nameless neighbors room was pretty neat, but your mind went completely blank when a set of abs came into your vision, followed by the side profile of one of the most handsome white haired man you had ever seen.

So yeah, the first time you peeped on your neighbor was a mistake. 

The second time. Not so much. 

~

"Hey! My name is y/n l/n im your neighbor"

Piercing blue eyes look you up and down and your breath catches in your throat. His eyes, framed by a shock of defiantly white hair, hold a mysterious depth that seems to invite you into an endless ocean of secrets. They twinkle with a mischievous glint.  His lips, full and inviting, flash you a devilish smile that hints at an irreverent sense of humor. The white hair man leans on the door frame.

“Ahh so your the new girl”

You gulp, trying to keep your eyes from raking over his well built body that were sporting sweat pants that rode just slightly low on his hips and a black shirt that exposed the tone muscles of his arms. 

Lawd have mercy, we must stay focused, we must stay focused. 

"Yeah uh, I just wanted to get your name, you know, since we are gonna be neighbors and all….." You trail off at the end, fiddling with the ends of your uniform skirt.

You can feel his eyes bore into your head as you averted his gaze. He chuckles and blows out air from his nose in amusement.

“Gojo satoru. You can call me Satoru, since you know, we are going to be neighbors and all” He almost coos mockingly.

You nod and hold out your hand.

“Nice to meet you Satoru.”

~

For the next two weeks you find yourself slowly adjusting into your new life. You spend most of your time either training or hanging out with your new friend Shoko, since you are deemed ‘too new’ for any missions which is fine by you. During this your interactions and conversations with Gojo are kept rather short. You laugh at the jokes he and Geto come up with during class, roll your eyes at the snarky comments he makes about how ‘new’ you are, and occasionally even give him a smile in the hall. But for some reason you can't seem to get him out of your head; your eyes often wandering to stare at the back of his white hair during lessons, watching how his long digits gracefully twirl a pencil around, finding yourself wondering what else he can do with those fingers.

And it is for those very reasons you find yourself lying in your bed, unable to sleep.

Huffing, you sat up in your bed and turned on the light on your night stand. As you leaned toward the wall to grab your phone, that’s when you heard it. 

A faint groan. 

….

You shouldn’t.

It's wrong. You already peeped once, and that’s enough. 

But god, curiosity is killing you right now. It was eating away at your brain like termites and you couldn’t seem to let the question go. 

So you made a promise. One look. One final quick last look and that would be it. 

Oh how curiosity killed the cat. 

The moment your eye was aligned with the hole, your mind went blank and in front of you was a sight ever to behold.

There on white bed sheets was Gojo, shirtless, sweatpants slightly lowered furiously fisting his dick. For a couple seconds, you couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him; how beautiful he looked with his head thrown back, the glide of his hand up and down his long dick and how the top of his fist captured his redish pink tip with every thrust. 

Once the initial shock was over you immediately pulled away, hand covering your mouth to silence your gasp. You should've never looked, never crossed the threshold between curiosity and invasion of privacy. But as you move away to go back to sleep and forget all about this, you wince.

Oh no.

An all too familiar ache has started to form between your thighs and you felt your stomach twist into knots and form into a million butterflies. Frantically, you pull down your short, silently cursing when your eyes are met with a small damp stain at the base of your underwear. 

This couldn't be happening. Quickly you crawled back under your covers and turned off the lights, praying that the feeling would go away. Surprise surprise, it didnt. 

Biting your lip, you grabbed a pillow and placed it between your legs, squeezing your thighs together. A couple seconds later without realizing it you had started to slowly roll your hips on the soft object, desperately seeking some way to alleviate your pain. 

But it seemed like that only made things worse. 

Your skin was buzzing, and your breaths had turned deep and heavy. The slick accumulating in your cunt has started to become borderline uncomfortable and the twisting in your stomach didnt seem to cease. You needed release. 

One more look. One more look than one orgasm and thats it. 

Frantically you crawled back to the small hole, letting out a soft whimper when you're met with the sight again. This time his eyes were squeezed shut, and white substance filled the space between his fingers as he hurriedly fisted himself. Without even thinking, you slipped a hand under your underwear and letting out a sigh of relief when your index finger came in contact with your clit. 

Quick, you'd make this quick.

Using your wetness, you began to circle your finger around the nerve, falling into a slow rythm. You tried your best to cover the wet clicking sounds coming from your ministrations, but after a couple minutes you couldnt see to care any more. You let your mind drift to thoughts of Satoru. How would he look above you, sweaty and in euphoria? Oh you bet his dick would feel so good inside of you, fill you up and hit all the right places. Fuck it you'd probably let him cum in you, spill his seed in your cunt and fill you up over and over again.

Your movements had become frantic now as you desperately chased your orgasm and from what you could tell it seemed like he was getting close too. You had to cover your mouth with your hand to suppress the moans and your thighs started to tremble as you got closer to finishing. Suddenly, your stomach dipped and tightened as a surge of mind numbing pleasure took over you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and mouth falling agape. 

After a couple seconds passed, you were left panting and you dazedly glanced back through the hole to find that Satrou had also finished; white streams of cum painting his toned stomach and fist. 

You blink back the euphoria that slowly escaped your brain.

Ok. Never again. 

~

That was a lie. 

You started to pick up the fact that Gojo had a routine. He’d jack off once in the morning and once at night, and boy, where the sounds impossible to ignore. So, you started to fall into this routine with Gojo. On cue, when you heard his shaky breath and silent whimpers, your hand would automatically slip into your pants, circling around your wetness to the sound of his shaky sighs. On the days you slept through the ones in the morning and missed it as night as well, you’d touch yourself on your own time, cumming over and over again to the thought of Gojo pumping his thick cock in and out of you. 

You didn't know what the end goal was to this and hell you knew it was wrong. But the pleasure was too overwhelming, the sound of Gojo was too overwhelming, too damn compelling.

So here you were again, another night laying next to the peep hole, hand down your pants intently listening to the fast pap pap pap that came from the other side of the way. 

But something was different tonight. Your skin felt like it was on fire. Your walls pulsed and squeezed around nothing with every light rub for your clit. This was becoming dangerous, the pleasure was becoming too much, the thought of gojo fucking you was becoming too much. 

You let out a whine that comes out louder than expected but you can't seem to care. You dig your ass into the mattress and arch your back slightly. You're not thinking of your fingers as your own right no, no, they are Gojo’s long pale ones rubbing fast circles on your throbbing clit. His name falls from your mouth like a silent plea over and over, begging him to fuck you. You're so engrossed in the pleasure that it took you 20 seconds to fully realize that the sounds on the other side of the wall had stopped. Confused, you align your eye with the peep hole and a gasp rips out of your throat.

Instead of finding Gojo’s body layed out your met with the sight of another eye. A blue eye. Staring right back at you. 

You pull away from the wall and cover your mouth. Before you can even process a thought your door swings open and in steps the last person you wanted to see.

"You've been peeping on me." Gojo coos, a shit eating grin spread on his face. Hes disheveled, white hair tousled, black tank top slightly riding up and grey sweat pants riding down showing his white happy trail. But most notable was his hard dick pressing against the fabric of his pants, a slight stain adorning the material right where the tip is. 

"You've been peeping on me!!!" You stammer, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Oh really? Is that the best defense you’ve got?” Gojo chuckles and rakes a hand through his white hair, taking a few steps closer to your bed.

“What are you doing? Get out!”

“Oh? Is that what you really want? You want me to leave?” Gojo is at the foot of your bed now, and your breathing becomes faster when he climbs on. “Because I can leave. I can leave and tell everyone what a little whore you’ve been, listening to me morning and night.”

“You-” You can't even finish your sentence because he's on top of you now, legs on either side of your body and you gaze up helplessly at him.

“Of course I noticed princess,why do you think I was doing it so much anyway?” He places his index under your face  and tilts your chin up so your lips align with his. “Loved hearing those whines…. Wanna hear more so badly” He murmurs before placing his lips onto yours. You sigh into the kiss, letting his warm tongue entangle into yours. He holds the back of your neck to deepen the kiss before peppering his lips along your jawline and your neck. A hand slips below your flimsy tank top and another pulls at the hem of your underwear. Before you know it your completely naked, your chest rising and falling and Gojos hungry eyes scan your body. 

He licks his lips.

“You gonna let me hear more?”

 You gasp when you feel a long finger slide down your slit connecting the wetness before dipping into your tight hole. Gojo leaned close to soothingly press dry lips to your temple. “Shh,” He whispered, the resulting puffs of air washing over the side of your face making you shake. “This your first time being touched like this baby?Or did you not know about this special little g-spot you’ve got right here?” 

Your toes curl when he touches a spot deep inside you that sends bolts of pleasure coursing through your brain. You don’t even notice that he’s pulling down his pants until he pulls his fingers away, a string of wetness connecting his digits with your pussy, and your eyes are met with the sight of his length.

You unconsciously buck your hips up at the sight of it, practically humping the air, and Gojo has to secure your hips down to the bed to prevent you from hurting yourself. You could hear your heart in your ears and adrenaline coursed through your veins at rocket fire speed. The need in between your legs was too much, it was clouding your head and twisting your stomach so tight you almost felt sick. You jolt when his fat tip bumps into your clit; collecting your juices before pressing against your quivering hole.

"Shhhh, we are going to have so much fun together baby.”

You're cut off by the feeling of his length spreading you so helplessly wide and his tip smashing against something which must be your cervix you think. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides into you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, your cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making Gojo let oout a low groan of his own and pushing even deeper into you. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said hoarsely.

“Satoru please-”

You dont get to finish the thought because Gojo pulls out and ram back into you with such fever everything goes blank for a second. His thrusts started out shallow and slow, testing the waters for how much he could get away with. What your limits were, and if you could fully take him for what he wanted. But that quickly changed to harsher thrusts, until he’s using you like his personal cock sleeve, shaping your insides and bruising your cervix until your entire body jolts with sensitivity.

Every thrust knocks the wind out of you, his tip smushing right against your cervix only to be pulled out and rammed back in again. And the sounds, god the sounds where sinful. Wet skin against skin echoed through the room the sloshing of cum 

 It was too much, the feeling of your wet gummy walls gripping him so tightly, fuck, his hand felt like sand paper compared to this, how was he able to fucking live without your pussy in the first place.  There was no way Gojo could stop now. His body had kicked into auto pilot, a primal need for you settled in as he thrusted in and out, creating a methodical fast rhythm that echoed in your ears. The sight of you right now, the feeling of your pussy clamped on his dick did not justice to the image his fucked his fist to. No, this was better, this was heaven.

“So good- don’t stop, please don’t stop!” your babbling strung out of your lips too absorbed in the thought of how god damn good he was fucking you, his thick cock driving in and out of your velvet walls. It was as if you were made for each other, your cunt sucking him in with each push and shove that hit at just the right spots.

“Say my name baby” he coos and an involuntary cry escapes your lips, a passionate fusion of pleasure and intensity. Amid the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that washed over you,  your mouth began to call out your boyfriend's name. Again and again.

“Beautiful girl, such a natural submissive” he whispered hoarsely. Your stomach coiled with anticipation, heat encircling your core like a tightening cord. Your senses tingled, your mind a haze of desire, all consuming thoughts centered around Gojos electrifying touch. You pressed back into him, arching off a second later and then your hips rocked down. Words became superfluous, you couldn't say anything, not with the way you were panting and twitching, so insanely close to your peak that you wouldn’t ruin it with your words.

“Do it,” Gojo said into your ear with conviction. “Wanna see you cum all over me, fu-fuck, been waiting for that.” 

His words seem to flip a switch in you. The heat on your stomach is unbearable, you can’t take it anymore, it’s consuming you, driving you over the edge so fast that you can’t put a stop on it. Your pussy tightens so hard around Gojos dick that he nearly has to stop his thrusts, your scream is muffled by a hand clamped over your mouth as you feel yourself splitting in two, coming with his cock buried deep inside you. Gojo doesnt stop, He fucks you hard into the futon; your eyes roll back, toes curling as waves of pleasure crash over you, your entire body trembles over his thrusts.

"Oh shit!" He gasps as your cunt clamps around him. He growls something unintelligible as his thrusts become erratic and sloppy. “"Gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up it's what you were made for- ah, fu-uck- cumming!" Gojo pressing him flush against you choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny.

“Wa-wait! N-not ins-si-” You squeal but cut your self off when you feel something deliciously warm enter your battered pussy. You babbled and squirmed as it built and built and built, like there was a dam of his seed spurting into you. You unintentionally, probably instinctually, squeezed around him, drawing more out and he whined and murmured his praise. “Good girl, get as much as you can.” He petted circles over your stomach, over the bulge of where his cock and cum lay. “Such a pretty tummy….” You threw your face into your arms and shook.

The two of you stayed like that for a while–Gojo keeping you plugged with his cock while you both watched your breaths, listening to eachother and occasionally leaning in for a messy kiss.

“So, I guess we are both peeping toms then.”

A/N: Im too lazy to write an ending

[s3ggsypiranha]

mean streak (pt. 1)

synopsis to spend more time with his girlfriend, a lovesick lo'ak contracts his older brother to distract and romance you, tsireya's rough-around-the-edges, protective older sister. unfortunately for neteyam, you were determined to make this as difficult as possible.

⚝ neteyam sully x fem!metkayina reader

⚝ tags: set months after atwow, let's pretend neteyam survived ahahahahaha 😐 neteyam & reader are both kids (think 15 - 16ish), sibling stuff > romance in this ch, KING ROXTO 4 president, lo'ak simping for our girl 'reya, everyone's so introspective up in here, mean/irreverent reader, mild swearing. earth 2 neteyam girlies, it's 2025, are we still alive?

⚝ wc: 2.2k | a/n: i'm so happy to hyperfixate on avatar again yayuhhh. i'm gonna be so fr i don't have a timeframe for when the next parts come out but we will finish one day 👹 shit gets corny asf and ooc real fast but if you like that, do be seated, buckle up and enjoy the ride pookies <3

(ps. don't repost, im absolutely fine w reblogs)

Love sucked at Lo’ak’s mind, all mosquito-like. He sat at the edge of the festivities on a patch of sand littered with trees he claimed as his own once the crowd died down, which, much to his displeasure, amplified the growing noise of his encroaching thoughts. 

This barely plausible, esoteric thing worked for his dad, somehow, who stood by Neytiri, his eternal partner in crime. The very image of unconventional romance. A picture-perfect painting the boy couldn’t help but adore and, as befitting a lovestruck teenager, regard as such a high example of how it could be. Love.

His eyes landed on her and he racked his brain for an answer to the age-old question. How to get the girl? It seemed almost impossible.

Tsireya dawdled by the fire, donning a pearly white grin to those fortunate enough to be graced by her presence. Tsireya, Tsireya, Tsireya. Her name was a dreamlike symphony echoing through his whole being. Some suitor or other wished her a 'most auspicious name day' followed up by a mother of pearl-laden monstrosity of sorts he deduced meant to be a present. What a meathead.

Lo'ak flinched at the feel of hands squeezing at his shoulders as if harbouring the secret location of Eywa's hidden treasure. 

"Baby bro!" 

He mustered a tight-lipped scrunch. Neteyam grimaced at this lack of reaction but, determined to flip his brother's mood, shrugged it off and chose to invade enemy territory. 

"Alright, move over, skxawng," he plopped himself down next to his now ponderous sibling, making himself at home and taking extra care to sigh obnoxiously. Neteyam grinned at him, shit-eatingly so.

Lo'ak blinked, unimpressed, and his eyes assumed their initial position. In his periphery, his older brother tilted his head with an expression Lo'ak thought similar to that which Norm reserved for examining weird petri dishes in the lab. 

"OK, I'll bite. What is wrong with you?" 

Receiving so much as a shrug and a grunt, Neteyam followed his brother's line of vision. Ah... 

He chuckled, "trouble with the missus?" 

"Dude-"

"Just saying, you're beginning to look like a palulukan in heat." 

"Man, I swear-"

Neteyam raised pacifying hands. 

"Looks like this is more serious than I thought. So, the way I see it, you ought to tell big bro what is running through that head of yours.” He tapped Lo'ak's temple in emphasis, which his little brother returned with a murderous side-eye. 

"Speak now or forever hold your peace."

Lo'ak's ears twitched in indecision.

"Okay..." he caved and gathered the right words. "So, I like... Tsireya."

Neteyam held onto his brother's shoulder in faux shock, "No?!"

"C'mon, do you wanna listen or not!"

"Sorry, sorry, floor's yours."

Lo'ak rolled his eyes, "As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted." Neteyam clutched his chest in exaggerated pain.

"I like Tsireya, like really like her. And I think she likes me back."

"That's great, bro, can you get to the part where you're having a problem?"

"I'm getting there," Feeling courageous enough to turn fully, Lo'ak faced his brother. "We've been hanging out a lot and I feel like we've really got something. I mean, she sees into me, I see into her."

Neteyam smiled, "Uh-oh, 'but' incoming?"

"But there's a bit of an issue." Lo'ak motioned his head subtly to Tsireya's spot by the fire. "Don't look now but-" 

Neteyam looked at the two girls sitting across from them. There you were in all your imposing glory, fiddling with the ends of your sister's curls as you allowed her to drone. He let his sights rest a little longer but, possessing some eerie sixth-sense, you picked up on unwanted eyes locked onto your face, turquoise hues smelting his golden gaze.

He looked up at the stars, a tree, then his brother. Whew. 

"Do you see what I mean?"

"Huh?"

Lo'ak snapped him back to reality. "Hello? The sister?"

"Ah, the sister."

"She's freaking everywhere," Lo'ak leaned back in resignation, "I can't even get in two seconds with Tsireya before she goes bat-shit."

Neteyam gave him an amused shake of the head. 

"Oh, this is funny to you? I'm being personally victimized by Tsireya's sister and you're laughing?"

"I dunno what to tell you, man. She's um-" Neteyam shivered animatedly as he watched you slap Ao'nung on the arm provoked by something he'd said. "She's terrifying. But don't take it personally," he patted his little brother on the back.

"Gee, thanks, that's really helpful," Lo'ak wormed away the reassuring touch.

"Dude, this is a well-known fact. Ask anyone," Neteyam surveyed the general vicinity and whistled for Roxto. The boy in question pointed to himself in confirmation and approached, juggling fruit in his hands. 

"Hey, guys. Can I tempt you to some yovo? It's really goo-" 

"That's nice, Roxto," Neteyam interrupted. "Hey, so, what do you think of you know?" He gestured to your spot.

Roxto paled, looking around him before asking in a hushed tone, "Is this some kind of a test?"

"Exactly," Neteyam nudged his brother.

"You know something, up until tonight, I have never seen a na'vi eat that much fish," Roxto noted. The three observed the manner in which you, for lack of a better word, horked down your umpteenth piece of roasted seafood. 

"I don't know if I should be scared or amazed. Maybe both," Roxto began to back away cautiously from the two brothers. 

"Great," Lo'ak sighed, "so it's public opinion that my girlfriend's sister's a piece of work." He raised his head helplessly to the heavens, on the brink of surrendering his frail soul to Eywa's loving arms. 

"I just wish there was some way to ward off the guard dog," Lo'ak stabbed at the sand with an incensed finger. Neteyam could only watch as his brother despaired. He'd never seen him in a lovesick slump quite like this.

Lo'ak willed his neurons to fire. He's the son of Toruk Makto, for Eywa's sake, he could be intelligent when he needed to be. How the hell do I crack this? You were a well-rounded individual. Smart and attractive, not a troll by definition, as per mentioned by his father in distant bedtime tales of sky folk. He could think of a million names belonging to suitors falling at the feet of the Metkayinan tsakarem across Awa'atlu. Sure, you could be abrasive. The mean streak you wore like a badge was old news within the village. 

He watched Tonowari ruffle your hair in the distance. You loved your family. Tsireya idolized you. He recalled how she admired your 'way of moving through the world.' And he thought, yeah, you could call it that. Moving through the world. You always did seem to be at odds with everything, taking solace in your own company at the end of each day. What was wrong with you? Didn't you have any hobbies? You didn't seem to have a life outside of keeping your siblings in line.

Wait a minute. He looked at his brother, then shifted his eyes back to you, his brother, then you. 

It dawned on him. Shit, he was a genius.

"'Teyam, I feel bad for her." 

"For the guard dog? Why?"

"Ever noticed any friends? Boyfriend? Pet?"

"The answer would be no, big brother,” Lo'ak scratched his head innocently. “It's simple. She's got no life so she compensates by keeping her siblings on a leash."

“Huh.” 

Neteyam raised a brow and wondered deep down if he acted like this. More often than not, it felt like every day revolved around keeping everybody's asses in check. 

"Maybe her life wouldn't be so damn boring if she had something to look forward to every now and again."

Neteyam took the bait, "What are you getting at, smart guy?" 

Lo'ak, rather uncharacteristically, smiled sweetly, emulating little Tuk whenever she pressed Kiri for playtime. Four-fingered hands touched fingertips as he proposed, "How would you like to do me a favour?"

This wasn't gonna be good.

"I'm thinking you hang around Tsireya’s sister, woo her a little bit, get the mighty warrior some actio-"

"Absolutely not."

"C'mon, I'm not saying mate with her, just do your signature sweet-talk, take up some of her time..."

"You don't understand what you're asking," Neteyam laughed incredulously, "I took a bullet for that girl and all I got was a skxawng instead of a nice ‘thank you.’"

"I mean," his brother shrugged, "it was pretty stupid."

"I almost died!" he squawked.

"Past is past, man, and today, you're my only hope," Lo'ak implored, glassy-eyed, "it's rough out here!"

"Eh... not my problem, pipsqueak."

"I'll do your chores for a month."

"Yeah? I've got a feeling you won't-"

"Two months!" Lo'ak closed his eyes. It was worth it, he thought, overstimulating on thoughts of Tsireya's bubbly laughter to outweigh the prospect of having to scoop up ikran shit for the next few eclipses. He opened an eye to see Neteyam turning to leave. "And a week in advance!"

That piqued his brother's interest.

"...keep talking."

"All I ask is that you keep her preoccupied," Neteyam sat down. Lo'ak took this as a sign that he reeled him in, "and that can look however you want it to look like. Romance her, befriend her, I don't care. Just, please, would you buy me a little time?"

Neteyam heaved a sigh. "Even if I wanted to help you,” he rubbed his face, “this is just plain wrong and, not to mention, stupid." 

What was Lo'ak thinking? His brother started to sound uncannily like their dad, a true reflection of young Jake carving his heart out as an offering to the olo'eyktan's daughter. Albeit being a walking safety-hazard, you were a real person with real feelings not built for tampering with. Anybody deserved better than that. You deserved better than that and, besides, Neteyam would not be taking his chances against Tonowari should things go south. Not today. No, sir.

"Okay... I guess you're right," Lo'ak nodded.

"I am?" 

"Sure, man," Lo'ak stood up, "which is why I'll ask my good friend Roxto to do it-"

"Boy, sit back down," Neteyam yanked him by the tail. 

"Y-ouch, bro, totally uncalled for-" Lo'ak planted himself on the ground, tail keeping a world of distance away from his brother's hands.

"You ready to talk terms?"

Neteyam allowed himself one last look at you, your scowl, your confronting stance made more menacing by an air of defiance, and your... hair. You had nice hair, okay? He was prepared to die on that hill. You were not somebody to be messed with. Woe betide those daring enough to disturb the terrifying tranquility you constructed to a tee. How you tirelessly subverted expectation after expectation as your mother's successor, he would never fully comprehend, as previously being born into clan royalty himself. But it was something he respected, bordering on admired, about you. And this was a fact Neteyam was wary to admit to for some strange reason. He couldn't pinpoint it if he tried, always running through his mind too fast for his liking. It was confusing, consuming even. When it came to thinking of you, he was always left in shambles. 

Which is why he couldn't have prepared himself for the chilling clarity that accompanied his next answer.

"Fine."

Surely, something was in the air. Something, just something must have puppeteered him into complying because he was so sure the moral high ground would have won this fight today.

"That's the spirit!" Lo'ak whooped in delight, transporting Neteyam back to the moment Norm allowed them chocolate for the first time. 

"But I want a fortnight in advance.”

Neteyam watched Lo'ak descend into space, making the necessary calculations in his mind, "Unless, of course, you change your mind-"

"You have yourself a deal." 

They shook on it, comically, and Neteyam leaned in to whisper lowly, "And if I ever feel like she's gonna get hurt, well, I'm obligated to tell the truth."

"I'm obligated to tell the truth- whatever, man," Lo'ak pushed his shoulder, "Also, ever heard of this thing called a bath? I'm catching a stench..."

"Hey, if I were you, I'd be a little nicer to your salvation," Neteyam mussed up his brother's braids.

"Mind-" Lo'ak slapped his hand away, fixing his prized locs, "the hair."

"Go and get me some water, little brother," he casually tossed him a bowl. Neteyam straightened his spine, flexing intertwined fingers in a stretch, "Let's see how the mighty warrior gets business done around here."

Lo'ak scoffed, muttering a quaint dumbass under his breath as he watched his older brother break into a saunter, moreso a moonwalk, in your direction. 

With bated breath, Neteyam slid next to you on the boulder you occupied. Your eyes widened at the intrusion, pupils dangerously teetering to your right where he was. 

He mustered his most gentlemanly greeting. Chivalry itself shivered at this display of charisma.

“Hey.”

You shifted to the left. 

"What do you want?" 

Neteyam felt small before your violent scrutiny and he smiled an antsy smile.

"Uhm, I was just wondering if you ever wanted to-"

"No."

"You didn’t even let me finish-"

You raised a finger.

"So, you're saying there's no chance we could-"

You wagged it.

"Uh-uh."

Neteyam hung his head, "are you sure though-"

"For the last time, tree boy," you smiled sadistically, professing a loud, “NO.”

You sent him away with a regal wave of your hand. 

"Okay… good talk," Neteyam left your side, in a slumpier manner than when he joined it. 

"Hey, buddy. I saw you out there," Lo'ak winced, rushing to his aid with a bowl of water, "Not too shabby for a first try, eh, mighty warrior?”

"I don't want to talk about it."

Neteyam drank the pity water, replaying the moment in his head. 

“Yeah...” Lo'ak clapped the frowning, despondent thing that was once his brother on the back. 

"I've got some notes."

(queens, im making a taglist 4 those interested, just don't be shy and holla at yo gurl <3)

[loneliestluvr]

𝑻𝒐 𝑴𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝑰 𝑾𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒐, 𝒊𝒊.

i. ii. iii.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron OC

Synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

Warnings: should have added this in the last one but talking/thinking about loss of pregnancy, being controlled + used, angst, lots of description but Blair gets her lick back a bit 😛 this is also a bit of a slow burn

Word Count: 2.8k

taryn thinks: so this is gonna be a series and im just kinda holding its hand and letting it guide me rn, i have no planned ending at all or any idea where this is going. bear with me pookies and remember how attracted Feyre was to Rhys without knowing he was her mate please and thank you 🙏🏼

“Eris,” Rhysand’s voice boomed in that firm High Lord tone he only ever used outside of the River House— Blair had only ever heard it once and not ever directed at her. It was that same day and argument Nesta had told Feyre about the threat to her life, to the babe’s life in her womb, when Rhys’ power had exploded and grew so loud and angry Blair had covered her ears and closed her eyes.

Eris. The name rung in her head as her brother-in-law spoke it and her mouth moved before she could think as she tested it silently on her own tongue. Eris.

The second eldest Archeron still hadn’t brought herself to tear her gaze from the male—Eris—before her, taking in every inch of his face. Every muscle ticking in his jaw. Eris’s eyes followed her mouth as she traced his name with her lips and then he finally looked away. As if he couldn’t handle looking another minute.

“This is Feyre’s second oldest sister, Blair.” Rhys continued, and something like panic lit his every word. “She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

But it was almost muffled— the sound of his voice, the music and chatter behind them. Blair’s hands still neatly folded in front of her as she stood there, like there was nothing else in that marble room but her and Eris.

“Divine.” The red haired male murmured and by the way Rhys’ brows shot up just slightly, Blair figured the male wasn’t ever one for so little words.

The sound of his voice washed through her, the heat of her skin only intensifying as it echoed through her ears. She could hear her blood thrumming through her with it, like just this nearness had her body boiling. A sense she couldn’t describe pulling to him.

“Likewise.” The word was out before she could control it, like her inhibitions overtook all.

What is it that you feel, bright one? A cold, unnatural, and otherworldly voice spoke in her head. The same as always when the smoke cleared. Feminine, if Blair could tell— speaking to her as she was sucked back out of her body and it swallowed whatever words were working up her throat. Pulled right back into that unintentional irreverence. You do feel it, I can tell. Pushing me back, for this? For him— for what lurks under?

“I’m sorry for my tardiness,” Blair said, voice vacant. It was some part of their plan, but Blair had been instructed to follow along. Some quiet tucked away part of her, far in the forest of her mind, began to piece information together.

Things she’d learned simply by sitting and listening, and nobody cared about talking in front of the mute immortal who would sooner die than participate in politics or anything relating to the fae realm.

At least that’s what she thought of herself, nobody would say it. Even if that’s what she knew they were thinking. Even if it wasn’t entirely true.

Blair listened, mindlessly and absently, but what else was she to do when she sat in the quiet of her own mind day after day under something else’s control?

She tilled the soil of her mind, planting and working and tending as she sat and listened. Took in every piece of information that seemed so little to whatever she had become after, tucking it away and into her pocket.

But she never participated, couldn’t seem to ever make her mouth move. Could only sit and look out the window as everyone moved around her.

“Nonsense, sister.” Feyre smiled lovingly, the image of a shining star with the way her barely there gown accentuated her growing belly. “You’ve come just in time.”

As if on cue, a soft melodic music that sounded like the forest’s calm embrace started playing. Forest’s that Feyre and her had frequented in the summers when the younger of them was just hitting maturity, welcoming and lovely. Soft and slow, serene. A moment of peace in a world of pain and anger.

Blair took another breath and turned her head to the dance floor, it was her again this time as she spoke so softly it was almost unheard, “I love this type of music.”

“You’d like to know, Eris, that Blair is of the same talent our dear sister Nesta possesses. One that you seem so keen on having her hand in marriage because of.” Feyre says, but Blair’s eyes remain glued to the floor of people dancing so slowly. Seamless in their waltzing, her body almost began moving by itself— fighting every muscle in her to stay present in conversation as she slowed back into her body.

A rage filling some now faraway part of her, screaming and clawing and fighting to push her back again.

But this moment, this day, had been the most lucid she had felt in over a year— like she was waking up and blinking the fog away. Blair could hear clearly, and think, she could see from her own eyes, she was herself then. She was her own.

The reveal of another Archeron sister was not something that Eris had anticipated for. Certainly not something he’d prepared for, he had never let himself become so raw in front of anyone, let alone those of the Night Court.

One look at her… one gaze into those amber flecked eyes and his entire mask had shattered. For a minute too long he had just… stared at her.

Blair. The name danced around in his head, he could see it scripted on pages with a light hand. Those delicate fingers dragging the quill into a mess of curls and lines, her beautiful name printed in his mind. Blair.

“I’m almost certain at this point only beauty comes of your family, if Nesta was that graceful on the floor I can only imagine any of her sisters being equally as talented.” He said without another second, gaze now fixed wholly on the High Lady of the Night Court despite the pounding of his heart in his ears.

“Nesta continues to be… occupied.” Feyre added, almost ignoring any of his ploying compliments and Eris didn’t miss the whites of Rhysand’s knuckles showing as he clutched the arms of his throne.

And it was true, the Illyrian brute that had swept away his hopeful bride had passed her to the aggravating shadowsinger. Eris would not get her back again, not tonight.

“Perhaps my sister Blair would like to join you in a dance or two?” Feyre said next, the question directed for the female next to him.

Something in his chest felt like it would cave in and Eris thought he could have been floating just being next to her. The soft brown of her hair that went almost to her waist, even with it half up in a mound on the back of her head.

Accentuating those beautiful features under the light, lips pronounced and eyes that guttered all the need for dominance from his soul. His mind screamed: Kneel, kneel before your queen and beg to touch her. To smell and taste and feel, to know.

“Blair?” Feyre’s voice rang through his ears again and Blair had seemed like she was so enamored by the music, by the need to be with it, she hadn’t heard the question her sister asked. Then her head turned back to the thrones on the dais.

“I’m sorry,” She said quickly, furrowing her brow slightly as she tuned back in. “—what was it?”

“Perhaps you would like to join Eris for a dance?” Feyre clarified again and she looked from her sister to him, nearly next to Eris and stared for a moment.

“It’d be my honor to dance with the son of a High Lord.” She said, a small smile blooming on her lips.

By the confusion that seemed to broadcast on the High Lord and Lady’s face, Eris figured that Blair Archeron had secrets of her own. That just maybe, like him, she was undermined and looked over in aspects she shouldn’t be.

Eris stepped closer and offered his arm almost mindlessly, eyes tracing every curve of this smart and quick creature’s face. And Blair took it as that song faded out and the crowd prepared for the next one, the cold of her fingers seeped through the fabric of his tunic sleeve. Icy and bitter despite the warmth that flourished on her cheeks, and she let Eris guide her to the floor.

Blair could breathe. She could feel the race of her pulse, however immortal, she could feel the air on her skin and the warmth beneath Eris’s sleeve as she touched him. It felt like her body was on fire— awake.

Eris Vanserra— High Lord of the Autumn Courts eldest son, she had remembered. It had been like a splash of warm water, it had felt good. Different.

Rhys and Feyre’s ramblings about him, about their trades and need to stand against his father. Their effort to sway him should war find Prythian again, Azriel’s updates as she sat in the living room. Absent.

But that fog had cleared, and here she was. Preparing to dance with him. And everything came back screaming.

It was quiet as they prepared for the song to begin, Nesta and Azriel on the other end of the marble floor.

And then the music began and Eris’s arm wrapped around Blair until his hand laid on the small of her back, fingers of one hand each entwined as they stared into each others eyes.

It wasn’t that Blair couldn’t think or feel it, but her body moved absently off of memory alone as the dance began. Graceful and smooth, gliding as Eris guided her through the movements.

Spinning and twirling and whirling, she could only look at him as they moved. They did not speak, just danced and eyed each other.

Something charged went through the air between them, the close proximity of their bodies, and Blair wanted to know it as equally as Eris. Wanted to welcome it.

He smelled of spruce and warm honey, mahogany and citrus, flames and burning coals. Blair swallowed it down, drank it in and almost closed her eyes from how strong it was.

The pads of his fingers were rough, felt scarred as they held the small of her back and her own soft fingers. The freckles on his skin were similar to hers but brighter, a hue of ginger rather than her umber shaded spots.

And where he touched, across her waist and now one of her hips, burned.

The feeling like a fire, warm and welcoming and home, spilling into her veins like hot oil. And then Eris was dipping her, their faces a mere inch apart and Blair’s lips parted in a breathy gasp.

His eyes watching those perfect lips, trained on them as they stood like that. Dipped over and under one another, Blair’s leg hooked over his hip like she would fall.

But something in those pointed eyes, cunning and lethal, told her he would never let her go.

“Where have they kept you?” Eris asked finally, and brought her back up to a stand as they began again.

“A female is nothing to be kept.” Blair responded as easily as their dancing continued. Reminding herself of the proper terms fae used. “I have heard of how backwards Autumn can be, though. Perhaps that is your way of thinking?”

“You were not there for the war.” It was not the statement he made it, a rephrase of his first question. And he did not scold her for the jab she shouldn’t have made, supposed to be swaying and wooing but instead bit at him like a ravenous dog. “Nobody talked of a fourth sister.”

“I hadn’t realized I owed my life to the Court’s of Prythian or it’s people.” His hands left her body and trailed to the tips of her fingers as she spun out and when she returned his hold was firmer but he smiled, wicked and beautiful. “What?”

That look in his eyes, she couldn’t place it. And her voice held more venom than she intended, despite how soft and sweet it may have sounded aloud.

“You intrigue me, Blair Archeron.” He said and pushed her out again, her dress spinning out at the bottom as she twirled and came back to him. Pressed against his chest, one hand on the back of his neck and he might have shivered. “Trust the most beautiful of your sisters to be the smartest.”

“We’ve shared mere words, what are you basing my intelligence off of?”

“A feeling.”

“A feeling?” She repeated. He nodded and then she was keenly aware of where his hands were, trailing to the base of her own neck— close enough to be courting. More than that.

“Tell me,” Eris started, beginning a box step procedural that she followed. “—have they tucked you away out of fear of what you could become, or fear of what they could lose?”

“Who’s to say I’m not the one who chooses to stay away?” Eris’s eyes glittered with a need to know, like he wanted into her mind to see all of that intrinsic astuteness shrouded by firs and spruce. “Who’s to say I wanted to be a part of this life at all?”

“I offered to give them armies in exchange for your sisters hand and they bring you in.” He states as the song comes to an end and another starts. A rapid tempo, fast and harsh. Mostly string instruments, dramatic. “Why?”

“I was late,” Blair corrects, one hand holding the back of his neck as the other is gripped in his. Larger, muscled, and firmer than Blair’s delicate, soft, and teasing hand. “—you must be a terrible listener.”

Amusement lit Eris’s eyes as he held an arm around her waist, fingers brushing her ribs.

“Did they keep you away because of your mouth, then?” He crooned, their bodies moving seamlessly to the upbeat music. Stepping and spinning all at once, matched with the other pairs of dancers on the floor.

“What of my mouth?”

“What of it, indeed.” He smiled, eyes flicking to the rich ridges of her garnet colored lips. Blair’s cheeks heated and for the first time her eyes flicked away from his face. Anywhere but him as they landed on Azriel and she almost breathed in relief when she found that his eyes were already on hers.

A silent question in them and Blair blinked softly in response.

“Would you believe me if I said the second I saw you, I forgot about Nesta completely?” Eris whispered into her ear, lips brushing against the hair that curled there. So close she could feel the heat of his breath, like a flame licking her skin.

She cursed the part of her that wanted to feel that heat in other places and shoved it down. She looked back to Eris, noses nearly touching with the proximity this dance required.

“And what if I am already spoken for?”

Questions, so many questions with him. And Blair just fed them back as if the answers were in the questions themselves, a proper response unneeded.

“Are you?” His brows raised.

“No.”

It was simple, nothing further needed and she didn’t understand why she cared to tell a male she had met mere minutes ago that she was available. The first other than Rhys, Lucien, Azriel, Cassian and the blonde male she had set her eyes on since coming here. Since being forced here.

“They must do it to you all then.” Eris said, smile fading into a tighter one as he saw that look in Blair’s eyes. “Dwindle your flame, drown it out, waste you.”

“My sister and her mate have been gracious to me in my… adjustment. I have nothing to complain about, and certainly nothing to waste.”

Eris shook his head so barely as they spun Blair almost didn’t catch it, disbelief in every beautiful crook of his utterly handsome face.

“All of you is wasted, my dear Blair. They are blind if they cannot see what lives inside of you, your fire, whatever that power is and whatever you are now.”

Perhaps it was because Blair didn’t even know what was inside of her, why her chest warmed on its own for the first time in over a year just now, but she didn’t say another word.

When the music ended, she bowed before Eris as any graceful courtier would— a dismissal on her part before she stepped back and allowed for him to bow in return.

But he did not, and only stared at her as if he couldn’t—wouldn’t—bring himself to say goodbye. We are not done playing, Blair Archeron, was what his eyes added as Azriel swept her from the floor and the room all together.

His eyes followed her the whole way and that cold returned as soon as she left his line of sight.

🏷️: @prythianpages @impossibelle @readychilledwine

[i-llo]

The whole beeing soulmates thing

Beetlejuice × Fem O/C

Click here for more informations about this fic

Chapter 2

Synopsis: Sophie lives a normal and happy life in the 80s, she never worries about things beyond her reality, until weird dreams started to haunt her – flashes of faces and places she didn't recognize, and a strange gothic girl shows up with even more disturbing informations. What she can't figure out is that she's trapped in an endless cycle of death and rebirth, always ate the age of 25, and that her destiny is undeniably connected to Beetlejuice in some way. Centuries before, they should have met, but a cruel tragedy separated them and now the Deetz and the Maitlands, headed by Lydia, are determined to give Beetlejuice a chance of redemption, finding out about Sophie's forgotten past. As they try to reunite these two destined souls, something is trying to prevent this from happening, at all costs. Between ancient secrets, an inexplicable connection and they running out of time, Sophie and Beetlejuice finally have a chance to undo the curse that keeps them separated and trapped in this world.

Notes: Beetlejuice's medias will be mixed up (these works do not belong to me and all rights are reserved), so we'll use a lot of information from the 1988 and 2024 movies, but using the personality of the characters from the Broadway musical. I'm looking for someone to help me with beta reading the English translation.

Act 1, prologue: A Promise in the Shadows

It was a particularly cold night, a deep darkness, as the moon struggled to reveal itself through the thick clouds. The holwing wind made the trees sway, groaning in the gloom. In the open-air cemetery, where the silent witnesses of old times layed, the unease sense was almost palpable, a desolation that seemed to envolve the place with every wind blow.

Sophia, with her heavy dress and silent steps, had just revealed herself in the light of a nearby lamp, leaving a narrow alley, accompanied by a strong and austere man. Sophia's father, Edmund, was influential and feared in the region and was returning home with her after a social event, however, he decided to slightly divert his path for a short round. His concern for his family's property and investments led him to inspect the cemetery, now neglected and disturbingly exposed, three years after the start of the Black Death.

Among the rotting bodies, Beetlejuice moved with disconcerting intensity, searching for anything valuable, as soon as a cart unloaded, he moved to this new location. His carefree and irreverent behavior was evident as he manipulated the corpses with an almost frenzied dexterity. His eyes, darkened like two black spots on his face due to the low light, were an almost savage sight, his actions did't went unnoticed by passersby.

Sophia's father advanced with firm and quick steps, approaching Beetlejuice with an expression of absolute disdain. “Even the lowest scum have learned to respect the dead, what do you think you're doing?” he shouted, his voice resonating with an authority that seemed to fill the cemetery.

The thief, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, slowly turned around, a disdainful smile on his lips. "Me? I like to think that I'm giving a better destination to things that they will certainly no longer use". His voice full of sarcasm, directly challenged the power that Edmund represented.

The tension was palpable. As he continued to make ,threats and try to intimidate Beetlejuice, Sophia, hidden in the shadows, felt a mixture of fear and inexplicable fascination. Despite her father being an imposing figure, the strange young man faced the situation with a confidence that delighted her. Sure, the desecration of the dead made her shudder and the smell was unbearable, but there was something morbidly magnetic about the situation. Beetlejuice showed no signs of submission, instead, he continued to work, completely disregarding the presence of the intruders. Sophia, despite her natural shyness and respect for her father's suffocating presence, couldn't take her eyes off him. The way he challenged the established order was fascinating.

---

In the upcoming weeks, Sophia's life became a silent search. Observing Beetlejuice from distance, through the windows of her residence or during discreet walks, she began to feel a deep curiosity, along with a new kind of anxiety. The way he defied norms and lived freely enchanted her. Every sight of him was a mixture of wonder and desire, a desire to escape the restrictive and controlling life she knew, and he was the representation her feelings, as if all her inappropriate thoughts formed a whole new person. Finally, after the torturous weeks that followed, Sophia decided to act, she could no longer return to the confines of her existense, not after that encounter in the graveyard. She would run away and find Beetlejuice, she intended to confess her feelings and then they could run away, with her dowry's money that she would bring hidden, they could start a new life, just the two of them.

However, what that young woman could never imagine, was that this was also the day of his honeymoon. After meeting and marrying Dolores, an enigmatic and seductive woman, in a matter of days, joining together in a profane celebration, just like them, the moment came for the consummation of the vows. Dolores, however, had planned something dark: poison him to take his soul and ensure her own immortality. Sophia ran hurriedly through the deserted streets, the cold wind hurted her face like small cuts, while the sound of her own footsteps echoed in her nervous mind. Every corner felt like a eternity and every noise from the street seemed amplified in her troubled head, but the confidence in her feelings and her perfectly put together plan drove her forward, with her heart fixed on one person.

When Sophia arrived, she found the most horrific scene, Beetlejuice was dead from poisoning and with an enraged expression due the betrayal. His body was already pale and cold. Rage that resulted in Dolores' brutal death by axe, the woman's body was completely dismembered, causing blood to spread everywhere, soaking all the floor. Sophia then walked over, heartbroken and with eyes full of tears, kneeling beside Beetlejuice and crying over his limp body, the feeling of despair and desolation growing every second, "I love you" she whispered, her voice weak and broken by pain, almost inaudible. “And I promise that I will love you in every other life, we will meet again, and no matter what happens, I will never forget you.” Sophia's lament seemed to echo through the village, the sound of crying and sharp sobs, her promises of love and devotion caught in the darkness of that night.

---

Sophia's father after finding out what had happened, warned by his employees, was furious and decided that the situation needed to be resolved quickly and effectively. To protect the family's honor and avoid any scandal, he arranged a marriage for Sophia with Anthony, a man who was as cruel as rich, known for his brutality and power. Sophia's marriage to Anthony was the realization of her nightmares, he was ruthless and treated her with scorn, isolating and keeping her locked up, away from any possibility of escape and under strong physical violence. Sophia's life alongside Anthony was full of suffering and fear. Anthony, interested only in her wealth, constantly mistreated her. A few months after their wedding, Sophia, now at the age of 25, was brutally murdered by Anthony, who had already completed his goal and no longer needed her. Her life was ended short and filled with abuse, a cruel act that sealed her fate.

After Sophia's death, a heavy air enveloped the room, as if the world was suspended in dark mourning. That seemed to announce the sadness of an unfulfilled promise, in the dim light, the cycle of life and death continued. Time advanced until a baby's cry broke the silence. Her new life began as a child again, eyes opening to a world that was at once so familiar and so new. As the seconds passed fast, memories of her past life began to emerge, like scattered fragments of a distant dream. The love and the promise made to Beetlejuice, the losses and the very curse that now followed her, became clear in her mind. She slowly understood that she was doomed to repeat her story, trapped in an endless cycle of reincarnation, always seeking to find the one to whom she had promised eternal love, and then she heard “Welcome to the world, Olivia”.

[go-to-two]

You can have JLS & Tracy together again on your screen… what’s your dream show style/synopsis for them? Would you prefer show or movie?

I almost always prefer TV to movies.

But as for style, I'm going to reference a movie. I've said this before so it's a bit of deja vu, but there's a movie on Hulu called Plus One. It's a rom com but not super in its feelings. It's irreverent and raunchy and needs good chemistry between the leads to work. I'd want to see them in something like that.

[thebanishedreader]

Book Bans in California

As of June 2023

This Book is Gay by Juno Dawson

Banned from libraries and classrooms as of September 2022.

Synopsis from BookTrust.org

"Following her previous book Being a Boy, young adult author and former PSHCE teacher Juno Dawson offers up a funny, frank look at all things LGBT in this intelligently-written non-fiction book. 

Including testimonials from people across the gender and sexual spectrums, this is an accessible and inclusive take on what it's like to grow up LGBT, addressing all the worries and anxieties young people may have about this topic - whether or not they are questioning their own sexuality. Dawson writes responsibly and sensitively about her subject, but has plenty of fun along the way - and Spike Gerrell's irreverent illustrations add an extra dose of humour too.

A fantastic book for classrooms and school libraries, This Book is Gay is a must-read for teachers and parents, as well as teens themselves."

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Blackwell's (UK)

Statistics Source: Pen America

Support the American Library Association!

[ogradyfilm]

Recently Viewed: The Housemaid (1960)

The Criterion Channel’s synopsis describes The Housemaid as a “venomous melodrama,” and it certainly earns that label; director Kim Ki-young apparently doesn’t know the definition of the word “subtle.” His camera swoops and soars like a vengeful spirit, pushing in and dollying backwards with relentless, whiplash-inducing speed. His compositions are equally dynamic, fragmenting the image into claustrophobic sub-frames by observing the action through doorways, stair railings, and rain-drenched windowpanes. The music is likewise maximalist, characterized by eerie strings, mournful woodwinds, and a mercilessly abused piano.

The over-the-top visual style and sound design perfectly complement the sensationalistic story, which revolves around the gradual deterioration of an affluent teacher’s idyllic domestic life following a brief affair with the eponymous servant. While the movie’s social commentary isn’t terribly nuanced and its central conflict often comes off as rather misogynistic (the male protagonist, for example, lacks any agency whatsoever in his own downfall; his role in the narrative is akin to driftwood, passively buffeted by the dueling currents of his wife’s materialism and his mistress’ insatiable lust), the plot is nevertheless thoroughly engrossing—bolstered by an irreverent, absurdist tone that frequently borders on darkly humorous (tragedy and comedy are, after all, two sides of the same coin).

The Housemaid is a true cinephile’s delight. Its thematic density and moral ambiguity inspired an entire generation of South Korean filmmakers (its influence on Bong Joon-ho and Park Chan-wook in particular is plainly evident in every shot, every cut, every twist)—and that alone makes it absolutely essential.

[fearsmagazine]

DRACULA, A COMEDY OF TERRORS - Review

DATES: Sept. 4th, 2023 – Jan. 7th, 2024 COMPANY: Drew & Dane Productions THEATER: New World Stages, 340 West 50th Street, New York City ACTORS: Jordan Boatman, Arnie Burton, James Daly, Ellen Harvey, Andrew Keenan-Bolger, Kaitlyn Boyer and Sean-Michael Wilkinson. CREW: Director/Writer - Gordon Greenberg; Writer - Steve Rosen; Producers - Drew Desky and Dane Levens; Scenic and Puppet Designer - Tijana Bjelajac; Costume Designer - Tristan Raines; Lighting Designer - Rob Denton; Original Music and Sound Designer - Victoria Deiorio; Wig and Hair Designer - Ashley Rae Callahan.

(L-R) Andrew Keenan-Bolger, Jordan Boatman, James Daly, Ellen harvey and Arnie Burton in DRACULA, A COMEDY OF TERRORS. Photo by Matthew Murphy

SYNOPSIS: A pansexual GenZ Count Dracula is in the midst of an existential crisis. When he sets his sights on the brilliant young earth scientist Lucy Westfeldt, he meets his match for the first time – as well as a slew of other colorful characters including vampire hunter Jean Van Helsing, insect connoisseur Percy Renfield and behavioral psychiatrist Wallace Westfeldt, whose British country estate doubles as a free-range mental asylum.

(L-R) Ellen Harvey, James Daly and Arnie Burton TERRORS. Photo by Matthew Murphy

REVIEW: Horror comedies come in only two flavors - good and bad. DRACULA, A COMEDY OF TERRORS is a sensational, decadent satire that is the perfect treat for the Halloween season.

Gordon Greenberg and Steve Rosen's satirical and irreverent treatment of the Stoker novel resides somewhere in between “The Rocky Horror Musical” and a Monty Python film, with flares of the immortal Charles Ludlam. The tone is set right from the start as the cast tosses the novel and the hilarity begins. The previous productions of the play, including an adaptation of the piece as a radio play for The Broadway Podcast Network, clearly have sharpened the dialogue and wordplay to a razor sharp wordplay duel that had the audience laughing out loud within the first few moments. The writers have trimmed the novel down to a 90 minute tale that tries to incorporate key elements of the story, taking liberties with the novel’s climax to nicely dovetail with the themes of their play. The satire runs the spectrum from that of the novel, political, contemporary pop culture, and gender. Except for Dracula, the other actors have dual or multiple roles where the juggling of the characters adds to the merriment.

James Daly and Jordan Boatman in DRACULA, A COMEDY OF TERRORS. Photo by Matthew Murphy

Gordon Greenberg’s direction is superb. It is a finely tuned choreography of dialogue and movement that harkens back to the golden era of silent films to the Marx Brothers. There are some delightful props, including puppets, that add yet another level of humor to the production. Greenberg turns up the energy right at the start and maintains it for 90 minutes, giving the audience little time to recover from the side splitting laughter.

James Daly and Andrew Keenan-Bolger in DRACULA, A COMEDY OF TERRORS. Photo by Matthew Murphy

Tijana Bjelajac’s Scenic Design is a wonderful minimalist and still adds atmosphere to the production. Integrated into the set are nice visual and functional elements that are scaled down for an off-broadway production but are lavish enough, and easily would work for a Broadway staging. Tristan Raines’ costume designs are fabulous. The designs capture the period but also combine contemporary elements that highlight the performances.

Arnie Burton and James Daly in DRACULA, A COMEDY OF TERRORS. Photo by Matthew Murphy

DRACULA, A COMEDY OF TERRORS features an award worthy ensemble cast. The delivery of lines, the body language and facial expressions, their interactions are flawless, and if there were any misfires I didn’t notice. There was a fluidity to their performances that at times it felt like choreography. James Daly is outstanding as Dracula. He is as dynamic and enchanting as Tim Curry’s Dr. Frank-n-Furter, combined with the physique of Rocky. He delivers this multifaceted performance rich with comedic timing. Actor Arnie Burton steals the show as both Mina and Jean Van Helsing. He creates two unique performances that embodies the comedic prowess that is reminiscent of Milton Berle to Harvey Fierstein, with a dash of Bugs Bunny. In contrast, actress Ellen Harvey brings to life Wallace Westfeldt and Percy Renfield. She brilliantly effects switching between the two extremes that eventually becomes an uproarious gag in play. The cast does an astounding job of maintaining the energy level of the play for 90 minutes.

Andrew Keenan-Bolger and Jordan Boatman in DRACULA, A COMEDY OF TERRORS. Photo by Matthew Murphy

DRACULA, A COMEDY OF TERRORS is a side-splitting tour de force that would leave Bram Stoker and Mel Brooks rolling in the aisles, and maybe a bit envious. I’ve always advocated that there is a distinct bond between comedy and horror, and this is at its finest. Outstanding performances, fabulous production designs, brilliant directing, all deliver an energetic feel good and memorable theater experience. You must bring your friends for a night you’ll long remember as the perfect treat of this Halloween season.

James Daly in DRACULA, A COMEDY OF TERRORS. Photo by Matthew Murphy

Opening night is September 18. Performances are Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday at 7PM, Friday and Saturday at 8PM, with matinees Saturday and Sunday at 2PM. Tickets are $99 - $119. Premium seating is available. Tickets are now on sale at Telecharge.com, (212) 239-6200. For more information, visit www.DraculaComedy.com.

Review By: Joseph B Mauceri

Listen to our interview with director & co-writer Gordon Greenberg & co-write Steve Rosen on creating DRACULA, A COMEDY OF TERRORS – HERE

[llpodcast]

(Literary License Podcast)

Auntie Mame: An Irreverent Escapade is a 1955 novel by American author Patrick Dennis chronicling the madcap adventures of a boy, Patrick, growing up as the ward of his Aunt Mame Dennis, the sister of his dead father.

 The book is often described as having been inspired by Dennis' real-life eccentric aunt, Marion Tanner, whose life and outlook mirrored those of Mame, but Dennis denied the connection. The novel was a runaway bestseller, setting records on the New York Times bestseller list, with more than 2 million copies in print during its initial publication. It became the basis of a stage play, a film, a stage musical, and a film musical.

 In 1958, Dennis wrote a sequel titled Around the World with Auntie Mame.

 Auntie Mame is a 1958 American Technirama Technicolor comedy film based on the 1955 novel of the same name by Edward Everett Tanner III (under the pseudonym Patrick Dennis) and its 1956 theatrical adaptation by Jerome Lawrence and Robert Edwin Lee. This film version stars Rosalind Russell and was directed by Morton DaCosta. It is not to be confused with a musical version of the same story that appeared on Broadway in 1966 and was later made into a 1974 film, Mame, starring Lucille Ball as the title character.

 Opening Credits; Introduction (2.21); Background History (15.30); Auntie Mame by Patrick Dennis Plot Synopsis (17.01); Book Thoughts (21.56); Let's Rate (39.06); Introducing a Film (41.18); Auntie Mame (1958) Film Trailer (42.25); Lights, Camera, Action (45.31); How Many Stars (1:13.28); End Credits (1.18.01); Closing Credits (1:20.07)

 Opening Credits– Jingle Bells by Ella Fitzgerald.  Taken from the album Ella’s Swinging Christmas.  Copyright 1960 Verve Records.  All rights reserved.

 Incidental Music:  Auntie Mame Original Motion Picture Soundtrack.  Music by Ray Heindorf and His Orchestra.  Copyright 1958 Master Classics Records.

  Closing Credits:  We Need A Little Christmas by Angela Lansbury, Frankie Michals, Sab Saminino- Original Broadway Cast.  From the album Mame Original Broadway Recording.  Copyright 1966 Columbia Master Works Records.  

​

Original Music copyrighted 2020 Dan Hughes Music and the Literary License Podcast. 

 All rights reserved.  Used by Kind Permission.

 All songs available through Amazon Music.

[libertyreads]

Book Review #38 of 2023--

Murder Your Employer: The McMasters Guide to Homicide by Rupert Holmes. Rating: 3.5 stars.

Read from April 2nd to 5th.

When I picked this one up in a small bookshop in Toronto I really didn’t want to purchase it. Why? It was the first bookstore my husband and I had stopped at while on our trip to Canada and it was the first book I picked up there. But reading the sarcastic and satirical foreword sold me instantly. This fictitious guide on how to commit (and get away with) murder was a lot of things I enjoy both as a reader and in my life in general: It was funny, didn’t take itself too seriously, explored the darker parts of being human, and was well plotted.

But, and it’s going to be so weird to say this, I don’t think this book really went there when it comes to its darker elements. “But, Liberty, it says right in the synopsis that it’s a school where they teach people how to commit murder.” And you’re right. Yet the second these characters step away from the school and into the real world we lose a lot of the humor, irreverence, and satire as well as the darker aspects of the story. We even watch as these characters attempt to complete their thesis (murder) in order to graduate McMasters and I feel this way. I also struggled with the writing style. We switch into and out of a student’s  diary as well as into and out of the main narrator’s perspective so it feels choppy at times. It also feels like something written by a General Fiction writer so it doesn’t go into the typical tropes the way I would expect from a Mystery author. And it’s so hard to categorize because it’s not really Dark Academia and I don’t actually think it fits in Mystery. Calling it a Comedy would add more levity than what’s actually in the book. It’s just a struggle here. It started out like a textbook and was really dry at the beginning. Yet it is definitely not a textbook.

Overall, I think it was a little slow but worth my time. I don’t know who the hell to recommend this to though. It’s a bit like John Marrs in that way, just not quite as good. Clear as mud? Good.

[teriwrites]

November 2012: Hell™ Hath Frozen Over

Wordcount | 25,002 Genre | Satirical?? Humor?? POV | ??? Setting | Hell :) Status | 'Complete' Draft, Retired

The Synopsis As I Remember It

Lucifer has gotten more than a little fed up with his day job running Hell™, one of the two companies in charge of the afterlife. Firstly, his office is literally overflowing with complaints from all of his residents - all 'the A.C. is busted!!' and 'this place is torture!!'. Whatever. It's not his fault Heaven™ has such stringent entrance requirements. When a Revival spanning the Globe causes the currently-living to all start working harder to fall in line with those requirements, however, Lucifer finds himself, and his business, facing a crisis. Rather than take the news lying down (there's literally no space to do so, even his house is starting to fill up with written grievances), he sets two of his personal aides - Yetarel and Wormwood - out into the world of the living to bring humanity back under his purview.

First Line

Lucifer sat at his desk, grasping the corners of it.

Characters

Lucifer - ageless, CEO of Hell™, so tired Yetarel - ageless, an employee, acts like he's smart but is actually a dumbass Wormwood - they're all ageless here, acts dumb and is dumb, I remember he had a dad for some reason who was also a demon who I think is dead??? somehow???

Pre-Reading Thoughts

Entirely based on the vibes I remember (which is truly all I can remember, I could not tell you two things that actually occur in this story), this story was somehow simultaneously hilariously irreverent and infuriatingly 'holier-than-thou'. "Teri," you ask, "how did a devoutly Catholic 14-year-old come up with such a concept?" Easy. I didn't. I stole this story idea from someone else participating in NaNoWriMo in 2012. Not 'was inspired by'. Not 'fanfiction of someone else's story'. Like, 'borderline plagiarized their summary from the project page'. If this story concept sounds like a piss-poor replica of something you wrote, and you were on the forums that year, it probably is. And honestly?? I feel 0 shame over that. Maybe this is a hot take, but I think that, in regards to writing for yourself, truly anything goes. Including ideas that aren't only unoriginal, but involve pilfering other people's story concepts. Now, I wasn't using this writing for any sort of gain - I knew I was never going to try publishing it, I wasn't sharing it on or offline for clout or attention or anything, I didn’t even really speak with my closest friends about it. Once you're looking into those sorts of things, yeah, maybe don't lift every-other-word of your summary from someone else's original work. But as writing exercise that’ll only ever exist on your little flashdrive? Go for it dude. AKA if anyone wants to directly lift a WIP intro from my blog and write that exact story with those exact characters and emphasize the exact themes?? Consider this your permission to do so. Just keep it to yourself lol (I do realize that I'm now technically sharing details about the story online, but I wasn't gonna skip over the project entirely. So, yk, maybe I'm a bit of a hypocrite here)

[funwithrandomfacts]

Fun Facts About The Movie: Good Morning Vietnam 1987 | Movie

Film synopsis Radio funny man Adrian Cronauer (Robin Williams) is sent to Vietnam to bring a little comedy back into the lives of the soldiers. After setting up shop, Cronauer delights the G.I.s but shocks his superior officer, Sergeant Major Dickerson (J.T. Walsh), with his irreverent take on the war. While Dickerson attempts to censor Cronauer's broadcasts, Cronauer pursues a relationship with a Vietnamese girl named Trinh (Chintara Sukapatana), who shows him the horrors of war first-hand.

[nukethefridgenews]

PRIME PROMO: “THE BOYS” INSPIRED SUPER BOWL COMMERCIAL

PRIME VIDEO: “THE BOYS” new season will drop this year. Though an actual debut date has not been revealed as of yet. “The Boys is a fun and irreverent take on what happens when superheroes—who are as popular as celebrities, as influential as politicians, and as revered as gods—abuse their superpowers rather than use them for good,” reads the show’s official synopsis. “Intent on stopping the…

[fromthebeddesk]

My WIPs Listed By How Done They Are (+ A Synopsis!)

I thought I'd give you sort of an overgrown blurb for each story, as well as what stage it's in. Hopefully I can get these all finished and published, lol. 😆

Let me know which one is your favorite based on the blurb, or just AMA!

A Shard Of Memory (Newly Finished!!)

A little girl lost her home and childhood to an army of dark mages with the power to erase memories. That power works on nearly everyone but her. She’s all grown up now, and she’s ready to take them down to protect what she has left.

Twenty-year-old Shaellyn spends her time running the Land’s End tavern, visiting with friends, and keeping her younger brother Emrys out of trouble. Then everything changes when Shaellyn and Emrys’s old friend Twister arrives with news of an impending invasion.

These same invaders, the Qaret Mysterium, drove Shaellyn and Emrys out of their original home country as children, separating them from their parents. They barely survived long enough to make it to Raqut, the city where they’ve lived for the past ten years. Now Raqut is in danger too. But this time, Shaellyn is tired of running.

She and her friends hatch a plan to save their city, and after it goes wrong, they realize they might just end up making history along the way.

Storm Crosser (Draft 1)

A young monk named Aleii must pass through the Storm Wall forming the edge of the known world to find her long-lost parents and the source of her strange magic. The Wall has been there for thousands of years, supposedly to protect the people inside from the dangerous shadows that would otherwise invade. But when Aleii gets a glimpse of the outside world, she realizes that isn't the case: the people outside also view the Storm Wall as protection, a prison for the horrors inside it.

Outside the Storm Wall, the world is bigger, more dangerous, and way more confusing than she could have imagined. As Aleii digs further into her past, she discovers that she might be not just a mage, but a demigod. More importantly, she's the only one who can bring down the Storm Wall and reunite the two worlds without repeating the devastating war that split them in the first place. You know, no pressure, right?

The Changeling Trilogy (Draft 1)

Sixteen-year-old River Collins is pretty sure she’s average: No special talents, no siblings, two dads who love her to pieces but don’t always understand her, and a fairly ridiculous number of cats. She’s wrong, and not just because of the cats.

One day, she and her Dads are captured and separated by strange warriors riding giant moles, which is her first introduction to the Fae Kingdoms: the worldwide cave system where all faeries and magical beasts now live after literally going underground during the Middle Ages. While imprisoned there, River learns the truth: she's a changeling, an artificially created faery baby swapped out for a human one shortly after birth so the faeries could raise the human one as a pet.

All changelings who haven't been sent to the human world to replace human children live in the Fae Kingdoms as slaves. But now, a rebellion is brewing. River escapes, and makes allies in her quest to find and rescue her Dads.

Even as she comes into her own as a rebel leader, the challenges she faces in freeing her people become harder and more dangerous than she could ever have imagined. To win the war she started, she's going to need every bit of strength she can muster and any alliances she can make, no matter how dangerous they might be.

God-Touched (Draft 1/Outlining)

The irreverent take on Christian mythology and heart-wrenching sibling devotion of Supernatural meets the gloriously queer chaos of She-Ra and Nimona in a setting something akin to Star Wars.

I can't explain it any better than that.

The Charter of Souls (Outlining)

When Hannah and her siblings snuck out one night to experiment with their magic, they weren’t expecting to end up on an epically dangerous roadtrip with an artificial dwarf and a snarky haunted skull. They REALLY weren’t expecting to meet their long-lost fourth sibling, who’s on the opposite side of a brewing magical war. They’re the only ones who can get her back, save the world, and hopefully not die in the process.

This is my main Middle-Grade project. Think if Percy Jackson had been written based on esoteric Golden Dawn lore instead of greek mythology. The protagonists are goofy bickering triplets and their mentor is a toddler-sized homunculus dude named Clam who’s based more than a little on Stan Pines.

The Lightbringer Chronicles (Brainstorming)

Brianna Buckman has been raised an atheist. So much so that she’s not familiar with anything but the very basics of Christian mythology. So when she starts having flashbacks from things that never happened and seeing true-form demons and angels everywhere – plus a fallen angel in the mirror every day – she doesn’t know what they are and thinks she’s going crazy. So, she tells her parents she needs therapy.

But when she learns from the archangel Michael (posing as her therapist) that it's all real and she's none other than Lucifer, Brianna is determined to redeem herself and get her memories back. Just one problem with that: God, the only one who can fully grant her memories back, is missing. In his absence power-hungry angels are fighting over Heaven.

Brianna, Michael, and their sister Gabi (Gabriel) have to find God, and quickly, if they're going to survive the coming war or have any hope of protecting the human world.

Expect lots of trauma, female rage and poetical metaphors

[thebanishedreader]

Book Bans in Massachusetts

As of June 2023

This Book is Gay by Juno Dawson

Banned pending investigation as of October 2022, based on a formal challenge.

Synopsis from BookTrust.org

"Following her previous book Being a Boy, young adult author and former PSHCE teacher Juno Dawson offers up a funny, frank look at all things LGBT in this intelligently-written non-fiction book. 

Including testimonials from people across the gender and sexual spectrums, this is an accessible and inclusive take on what it's like to grow up LGBT, addressing all the worries and anxieties young people may have about this topic - whether or not they are questioning their own sexuality. Dawson writes responsibly and sensitively about her subject, but has plenty of fun along the way - and Spike Gerrell's irreverent illustrations add an extra dose of humour too.

A fantastic book for classrooms and school libraries, This Book is Gay is a must-read for teachers and parents, as well as teens themselves."

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Blackwell's (UK)

Statistics Source: Pen America

Support the American Library Association!

[regarding-stories]

Roundup of the backlog... returns!

As the Bloodhound Gang said... I had a lot of time. So, naturally, I watched anime and read some light novels and manga!

But I didn't end up writing about them. Fail. So let's give some at least a mention.

Hell's Paradise

The protagonist is a shinobi/assassin from a village who trains lots of them, finally up for the chopping block due to a betrayal. His executioner is a female sword master. Because the shogun craves an immortality elixir, both of them end up on a cursed island full of a strange remix of the Daoist, Buddhist, and other afterlives, fighting for their lives and seeking the elixir. As the story unfolds, more than a few things unravel.

Visually stunning, rather gory and violent, interesting concept and execution. Nasty butterflies, though.

Wave, Listen to Me!

Series focused on a woman who doesn't have her life together, ending up getting a radio show for her artful rants. The story is irreverent, doesn't thrive on typical anime tropes, and sometimes the protagonist is just... endless cringe. As such the whole thing is relatable and aimed at adults, for a change.

Intense, too... Give it a try, you might like it.

Listeners

I'm feeling like I'm spoiling something major here, but it gets revealed very early on, so here's the synopsis: Guy finds girl on trash yard and recognizes her as a "Player" because she has... a place to connect an audio cable? He then shows her the "Equipment" he restored which turns out to be a... guitar amplifier. Yes, the thing that takes electric guitar signals and makes them loud and awesome. And when she jacks in... it turns into a giant mecha under her control, in a design resembling the original guitar amp.

Fuck yeah!

So, "Players" battle a thread called "the Earless" with the help of their "Equipment." Expect to see a lot of classic guitar amps, mecha designs lovingly crafted to incorporate what made them stand out, and a deluge of references to all kinds of music, including ... Einstürzende Neubauten?? Yes, this is definitely from Japan.

The Prince/Artist Formerly Known Of... episode kinda sucks, but it's a solid anime with a unique twist in how it tells a story involving giant mecha, and some of its pop culture jokes are priceless.

The Angel Next Door Spoils Me Rotten

Unsurprising plot surprisingly well executed. Girl that's sweet on a boy starts showing up to take care of him. Takes him all season to get a clue (because Japanese rom-com). Wraps up with the season.

Generally sweet and I enjoyed it all the way through.

Hinamatsuri

Girl from the future with telekinetic superpowers shows up on Yakuza middle manager's doorstep. Yes, he kind of becomes her dad.

Everything about this show is weird (and so is the original manga, which you could get for cheap on Humble Bundle). It mostly features girls at high school age suddenly thrust into the world of adults, working jobs, for example, a theater of the absurd.

Blew my mind when it actually gave serious consideration to the life of homeless people in Japan. (In a dignified way, for sure.)

One of the weirder shows out there while still featuring a plot progression and character arcs. Go figure.

Malevolent Spirits: Mononogatari

In this show, objects can take on spirits and this gives those spirits access to the mortal realm. Meet an overzealous guy with tragic backstory who is tasked with policing them. To teach him a softer touch, he's thrust into a household with a young woman (with a tragic backstory) and five such spirit-people who enlisted in helping fight out-of-control spirit-people. Of course he doesn't like them at first, bonds form, lots of dramatic battles and slow personal change.

So, this is basically a slow-boiling romance between two unusual people interwoven with something that resembles a bit a police procedural, definitely a lot of action, and a growing cast of characters. Expect intrigue and some gray areas, too.

It's really hard to summarize this show, it's actually better to watch it!

Masamune-kun's Revenge

Masamune was a fat kid who got his heart broken in the most cruel way (and beaten up), so he got obsessed with working out. When he realizes the girl that did that to him is the man-hater of his new high school, he begins to plot revenge - to make her fall for him and then cruelly dump her.

Many people apparently expected that to go straightforwardly, but the series is actually full of plot twists and a somewhat sweet romance story.

The problem is that it at some point doesn't know how to sustain its own continuation, so instead of winding down, it throws more plot twists at us. Also expect lots of "never communicate" moments.

It has some nice characters going for itself. It also has some of the worst character intros. And whenever it seems to finally go well (in terms of a resolving narrative), it reverts to some unfortunate harem logic - which it didn't set up properly, either, so it doesn't really pay off. This prevents this show from getting truly good - it probably paced itself wrong, and then flails making up for it.

Zom 100: Bucket List of the Dead

Wow, this show is surely grim in its look on reality. Meet the protagonist, working a dead-end job for a black company. He literally works all the time, his life unravels, sleep-deprived, unable to enjoy any of it. Watch his descent into becoming a mindless capitalist zombie...

And then the actual zombie apocalypse happens. What a relief!

So, Japan is afflicted by a massive outbreak, almost everyone is dead, Tokyo is overrun by zombies that move way too fast, but this guy sets out to do 100 things to enjoy life before he dies. Somehow this struck a nerve, because it already got a live-action adaptation while the anime adaptation is also released.

It has strong art, it's super-gory at times, its humor is extremely dark, but most of the time it's fun to watch. (Just not while eating dinner.)

And all the parts really hard to watch are when we see the psychological abuse heaped on our main character in the workplace. That tells you something... Here the show is absolutely merciless. No kidding.

Am I Actually the Strongest?

Japan's anime industry is a hungry beast, and for plots it mostly surveys its enormous manga (so it also saves on original designs) and light novel markets. And there are only so many original ideas, it seems. So a lot of books with unimaginative titles exist, something on the nose like (I made these up) "Vampire Maid from Another World" or "Strongest Necromancer Now Reincarnated As Manga Store Clerk". And you would be surprised how many of these end up being picked up to be given at least one anime season. (Bottom of the barrel, anyone?)

"Am I Actually the Strongest?" is taking such a "remix premise" but it definitely has good execution. Boy is reborn in another world, and the ditzy goddess in charge of his case actually tries to make him an absolutely overpowered magician, but she fails to give him a magic school because she doesn't understand the magic system. He's born to royalty but since his magic is off the scale, the magic detection ritual actually reads it as almost non-existent, and he's discarded in the woods. Yes, a comedy of errors unfolds.

(Can't find any GIF for this I'm willing to show.)

The show makes fun of some of the Isekai genre's tropes, and follows our protagonist around as he rises in the world while actually trying to return to the lazy shut-in life he enjoyed before. So his character arc is actually involuntary and maybe driven by his care for this growing cast of people around him.

All in all a decent show, but expect some typical anime shenanigans.

The Girl I Like Forgot Her Glasses

Did I mention on-the-nose titles? Middle schooler has a crush on the girl sitting next to him. Luckily for him, she always forgets her glasses and apparently is almost blind as a bat without them.

Slowly this unfolds into a sweet little love story where he constantly tells himself (to an annoying degree) that she's not into him to keep the tension just a bit longer.

It's one of those guilty little pleasures where you wonder how they twist it in the next story, but we all know the premise is stupid.

Konosuba

Speaking of idiot goddesses. Konosuba is a parody on the Isekai and fantasy genres. Guy dies trying to save someone (but it was actually unneeded), so he gets to reincarnate in a fantasy world, allowed to take "one thing" with him to aid him in his quest against the Demon Lord. Since the ditzy goddess pisses him off, he chooses her, and he ends up in that world without a special skill and with her by his side.

His party soon fills up with two also completely weird characters - a wizard who can cast only one giant explosion per day and then collapses, and a crusader knight who misses every swing but can withstand massive punishment on the front line. The wizard is a "loli" obsessed with only one kind of magic and no other skills, and the knight is a beautiful but completely perverted masochist who says the most outrageous things throughout the series while on the surface pretending to want to remain chaste. The goddess herself is spoiled and wastes money, and spends the majority of her skill points on (surprisingly expensive) party tricks.

This is one show that takes neither itself or its genre serious, sometimes to its detriment. You'd wish at some point that it was more plot-focused or its characters had more sense... yet it relies on this setup for humor. It still grew on me.

It definitely is a show full of boob jokes, though. Excessively so. They aren't very funny, either. A very self-referential anime full of tropes to boot - and that part is funny.