#probably like 100 dollars worth

[you-have-been-frizzled]

the farmers market opens on saturday and i’m gonna get some more R O C K S

[combinecremator]

people on this website flat out do not understand what makes someone "bourgeoise" or even just rich. this is what people on this website sound like sometimes

[oysterie]

playing so much eo luminous the last few days i tetris effecting fish swimming in the corners of my vision at all times.

[sonknuxadow]

with every new collector monster high release i become more and more convinced that theyre just deciding the prices at random because what the fuck makes fang vote rochelle worth 90 dollars when they just sold that chucky and tiffany two pack for 90 dollars and none of these dolls look like they should cost 90 dollars anyway

[silverspleen]

Was worried that my copy of Blood Machines wouldn't work due to regional play issues, or maybe would be in black and white or maybe something else BUT IT WORKS FUCKING PERFECTLY.

They couldn't sell the blu-ray in North America, the UK, or Ireland due to licensing bs with shudder but I have a friend in Europe nah nah nah and nothing could stop me from getting it sent to Q's place and picking it up when I visited them, so now I have my very own official physical copy of Blood Machines.

Their shop is closed atm so I'm confident this is probably classified as a rare blu-ray to find in the US now, which is especially funny because the blu-ray case is literally just cardboard. This shit is flimsy af. Like, really nicely printed glossy colors and all, but also like.... Literally just beefy cardstock, doesn't even come with a nice metal or plastic case just paper and a postcard.

[dsgustng]

Something I've noticed Abt like weird rich ppl is that they will like. Insist on paying for things and coming back in if they noticed something wasn't scanned or whatever. I've seen ppl who were accidentally mischarged and got 100s of dollars of product for free instead of just taking it like any sane person would They fucking come back in and bring attention to it and insist on paying for it which is more likely to get the cashier in trouble than straight up STEALING would

[ambrosial-sunshine]

tag how long it would take you to earn that billion?

One of my friends asked me the other day if I would suck one thousand dicks for a billion dollars, and I love questions like that because not only are they so demonstrative of the no-homo society we live in, but they also show a fundamental lack of understanding that some people have for the value of money. Like, do you realize just how much money one billion dollars is? Do you realize I could live my life in the lap of luxury buying literally everything I could ever want and still have a fortune to leave to my children?? For sucking some dicks?? We are talking 1 million dollars per dick sucked!! That’s just economical like come on man.

[harrysfolklore]

Tom Blyth and YN Take a Couples Quiz | GQ - actress!yn

gif by @obriy <333

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

read my actress!yn x tom insta blurb here <3

//

"Hi I'm YN" 

"And I'm Tom"

"And today we're doing..." you looked at Tom so you could say the following part of your introduction together, "The GQ Couple Quiz!"

"Are you nervous?" you said as you looked at him, noticing his hands fidgeting on his lap.

"I'm alright, I'm pretty confident I'm a great boyfriend and I'll know all the answers." he gave the camera his million dollar smile and you couldn't help but show a smile of your own.

"Okay, first question," you looked at the card in your hands, "What is the name of my first movie?

"That one's pretty easy," he shrugged before continuing, "Spider-man Homecoming."

"That's correct," you flipped the card to read the next question, "What city did I grow up in?

Tom stayed quiet for few seconds, looking nervously at the camera and making you laugh. 

"Already? Really?" you looked at him in disbelief, "I thought you were a great boyfriend!"

"I am! This is a tricky one!" Tom moved his hands around and you covered your mouth with the card to hide your laugh "Okay, you were born in California, but you actually grew up in Phoenix."

"Correct! See! You knew it," you grabbed the card with the next question, "What would my job be if I weren't an actress?"

"Detective," Tom quickly said, "100% detective."

"Oh! That was fast," Tom shrugged before you continued, "Okay bonus, what kind of detective?" you looked at him with a raise eyebrow.

"Homicide," he replied quickly again, "All of those true crime podcasts prove it."

"Well yeah, that's true," you smiled as you read out the following question,  "Where was our first date?"

"It was at your house," Tom smiled as he remembered the moment, "And it was playing Clue, and I had to pretend to enjoy that game for you, and it was totally worth it."

"How sweet of you," you smiled at him before continuing, "Oh boy, you have to be specific for this one," Tom raised his eyebrows and waited for you to give him the question, "What is my night routine?"

"So, she puts on this little pink robe," he explained directly to the camera, "And then she puts her hair on one of these stretchy bandanna things so her hair is out of her face," you smiled at him, indicating that he was answering correctly, "Then she washes her face with this like foamy cleanse thing, then she puts on all her creams, and then when she's walking to the bed she turns on the heat, which is probably the only thing that we fight about," you both let out a laugh as he continued, "And then she gets in, she goes by her cupboard and she puts on these really fluffy and ridiculously warm socks and also my really baggy tracksuit bottoms but she rolls 'em and she puts one of my t-shirts 'cause she likes the smell of my aftershave," he smirked and you blushed for a second, "Then she gets in bed and she asks me to put one of these big fluffy, white blankets in the dryer so It's warm, then I tuck her in and put the other blanket on her  and that's it."

"Okay wow, you killed that one," you smiled at him, "You did really well."

The next questions were pretty easy for Tom's liking, getting right your astrological sing, celebrity crush, favorite ice cream flavor and the year you won your first Emmy. He ended up getting 23 points.

Now, it was your turn to answer questions about him.

"You feel ready, love?" he said giving you a smirk and you only nodded motioning him to read the first question, "Okay good luck, how old was I when I got my first role?"

"You were fifteen and already getting cast by Ridley Scott ." you answered confidently and sent a wink his way.

"Neat. What was the name of the high school I graduated from?"

"Was it North Hilld?" at this, Tom raised his eyebrows and shook his head, "Shit! It was Hills something, right?"

"You really don't know the name, love? This is making you look bad!" you covered your face in embarrassment, even tho you knew he was joking, "The correct answer is Arnold Hills."

"Ohhh that's right, give me the next one I'll do better."

"Okay, okay," he looked down at the card with the next question,  "Who's my celebrity crush?"

"Also easy, Jennifer Aniston," you smiled looking at the camera, “You had a poster of her hidden in your closet and all.”

"Nope, you're wrong," you raised your eyebrow at him, pretty sure you were right about your answer, "You're my celebrity crush, love."

"Tom! That was so bad!" you both laughed and he winked to the camera, "This is a serious game."

"Okay, okay, you got that one right," you rolled your eyes with affection as he read your next question, "The next questions are going to be a single sentence answer so I need you to do it as fast as you can, okay?"

"I'm ready, let's do it" 

"My go-to Karaoke song?

"Senorita by Justin Timberlake."

"What is my coffee order?"

"Oat milk latte."

"What is my biggest pet peeve?"

"Loud chewers."

"What's my hidden talent?"

"Whistling, like, melodically whistling if that makes sense."

"Okayy, those are all correct," he put the cards on the small coffee table between you, "We make a pretty good team, don´t you think?"

"We do, but I'm pretty sure I won." you shrugged and Tom laughed as you both turned to the camera to say your goodbyes.

"Thank you so much for watching. I personally think I won but we'll see."

"Thank you GQ!" you waved you hand and the camera stopped rolling shortly after.

The video ended up being one of the most watched on GQ's YouTube channel.

[joesfurbs]

 let’s stop furby inflation

recently, I’ve noticed people selling normal Furbys for over $100 contributing to the trend that Furbies are very rare in any condition and are worth hundreds of dollars I’m sorry but your old crusty, dusty smelly Furby sitting in your basement is not hidden gem at most. It’s probably $30. this is a PSA to all the middle-aged women selling their Furbies for hundreds of dollars on Facebook marketplace 

Here are some prices that are good but just remember if your Furby is in rough condition, it’s probably gonna be lower things like a missing tag or missing, eyelash or not working can contribute to them being lower

update I made some propaganda posters feel free to upload these wherever you want

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week

🌍🌡️ - Climate Prophecy: The Forecast Is 100% Chance of 'Cool'

1. No cases of cancer caused by HPV in Norwegian 25-year olds, the first cohort to be mass vaccinated for HPV

Last year there were zero cases of cervical cancer in the population that was vaccinated in 2009 against the HPV virus, which can cause the cancer in women. The HPV virus is extremely common, basically everyone comes into contact with one version or another of the virus in their lifetime.

The vaccine was given to girls only out of an abundance of caution, they were the most likely to contract cancer from the viruses, and because there was limited supply.

2. ‘Every square inch is covered in life’: the ageing oil rigs that became marine oases

Built decades ago, California’s offshore oil platforms are home to a huge diversity of marine life. According to a 2014 study, the rigs were some of the most “productive” ocean habitats in the world, a term that refers to biomass – or number of fish and other creatures and how much space they take up – per unit area.

3. Vaccinations may have prevented almost 20 million COVID-19 deaths worldwide

Vaccinations estimated to have averted 19.8 million COVID-19 deaths worldwide in their first year, according to the latest Imperial modelling study.

In the first year of the vaccination programme, 19.8 million out of a potential 31.4 million COVID-19 deaths were prevented worldwide according to estimates based on excess deaths from 185 countries and territories.

4. Global climate policy forecast predicts ‘well below 2°C’ Paris Agreement climate goals will be met

They report only a 10% probability we exceed 2°C by 2050. Temperatures are expected to peak between 1.7°C and 1.8°C, which is consistent with the “well below 2°C” objective of the Paris Agreement in Art. 2.1c.

5. Young driver fatality rates have fallen sharply in the US, helped by education, technology

Crash and fatality rates among drivers under 21 have fallen dramatically in the U.S. during the past 20 years.

Using data from 2002-2021, the report says that fatal crashes involving a young driver fell by 38%, while deaths of young drivers dropped even more, by about 45%.

6. A Virginia woman was feeling sad. Her doctor prescribed her a cat.

7. Remote workers report saving $5,000 to $10,000 a year

What value would American workers place on the privilege to work from home?

In a 2022 survey by FlexJobs, 45% of remote workers reported saving at least $5,000 a year. One in 5 reported saving $10,000 a year. The savings average out to about $6,000 a year. The poll reached 4,000 workers in July and August of last year.

Three years into the remote-work revolution, research increasingly suggests that telework is a commodity, a job descriptor worth thousands of dollars in potential savings and improved quality of life.

---

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.

[r0-boat]

WHB Kings with audio accounts

Back on my audio account bullshit

Cw: NSFW, mentions of darker content but not specific, whb is its own trigger warning lol, but also some silly things (My bad a lot of silly things)

Satan

"boyfriend beats you over the head with a metal pipe till you fall asleep.♥️" "Killing you sexually then killing you again"

His account is not serious. And the funny thing is that some devils would actually listen to it while they fall asleep.

The only other thing he posts seriously is ramble faps. His mic is god-awful You don't even know how these people listen to this shit but he's actually proud of the work he does. His favorite thing to do is making his own sound effects All his sound effects are 100% made by him 'organically grown' as he calls it. And by listening some of these audios you are terrified and don't want to ask what he has done.

Surprisingly he is really good at acting... As soon as he gets a better Mic his stuff somehow gets infinitely better.

Mammon

He firmly believes that humans and devils have a fantasy of wanting to be owned and he is there to fulfill that fantasy because he does in fact own everyone. Majority of his contents is some kind of script where he owns you in some way. All pictures provided to his audios are real pictures taken by a professional photographer. Some even have motherfucking animation.

And just a low low price of $2,000 a month you can access this content (Bimet's fault) But don't worry he sells each individual audio for hundreds of dollars. He considers this cheap.

He's one of the biggest audio accounts on the platform. Having one of his audios is considered a luxury, You're getting your money's worth from the ambience to the voice acting to how often he posts Oh boy. Each audio is an hour of content all good story like a damn movie.

His audios are far more than just smut They are works of art in his eyes. And those "works of art"are probably sold in the Tartaros Black market.

Leviathan

The only normal one. Hard to believe, But if he wants to do something he wants to do it right. He wants to blow out the competition stealing other ideas and making them better in his eyes.

He only started doing this because he caught you listening to some devil you found making a boyfriend audio and he was jealous. The only voice you should be listening to is his! He starts actually liking it however because people praise him for his beautiful voice and moans.

His audios have a lot of degrading a lot of roleplay fantasy where he is of course everything he wants to be. However a lot of his content are heavily influenced by you.

You talk about a singer you liked? Is next audio is a role play where he is a singer and you are his groupie. An anime character from that specific game? He will research the game make his own character based on himself and put himself in it for an audio!

Beelzebub

He has two types of audio. Food mukbangs is one of them. However the other type is Pure sin. A Beel audio can pleasure you just as much as he can in person.

Filled with dark content because he's fulfilling his darker desires desires he can't really fulfill with you because you are a human. But in these little fantasies he can do whatever he wants and imagine anyone he wants.

He does not add sound effects but his voice alone is sinful enough to get you wanting more. He will become too powerful if he starts adding fuck noises.

His mukbangs are just him eating different here He eats food with another devil and they talk kind of like a podcast.

Lucifer

Lucifer's audios are almost entirely dominant. He has a growing user base that wants to see him whimper and he does not want to feed them.

A lot of Lucifer's content stems from religious trauma corruption kink kinda stuff. Corrupted priest, to him as an incubus corrupting you.

He does have softer content He tries to keep NSFW and sfw equal numbered, and that content rages from weddings to honeymoon to first dates anything sweet enough to melt your soul.

He prioritizes telling a story more than anything else

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

eye for an eye

pairing: leon x reader

cw: noncon, angst, p in v, degradation, victim blaming, mentions of past noncon, light allusions to possible csa, leon is both the abuser and the abused (same w/reader)

summary: after experiencing SA as leon's subordinate at the DSO, you decide to get "justice" by giving him a taste of his own medicine

a/n: if noncon is a trigger for you, do not read! not putting noncon in the tags bc i fear it will get filtered out of other tags, so please note the warnings above!

wc: 1.8k

thank you to @d10nyx for beta reading <3

Leon has you bent over his desk, hands sliding under your skirt, snarling filth into your ear. You’ve learned to bite the bullet and take it. Breathe – in… out… in… out… – it will end, like all pain. You keep ice packs in a cooler in your car, you still end up sore whether or not you choose to put up a fight. You eat your sandwich in the passenger seat with your feet on the dash. You do not cry anymore. You grab the sweatshirt from the backseat, scream into it once and walk back in. The routine works well for quite some time.

It’s worse when there aren’t any other women in the office, or at least, women of Leon’s status who would be able to report him. He’ll fuck you against your will in the privacy of his office, but not outside those four blank fucking walls – you’ve memorized the way the paint chips – if he thinks he’ll get caught. The sick bastard still cares about getting in trouble.

If there’s no Hunnigan, Sherry, or Helena in sight, Leon follows you into the women’s room. You’ve thought about pissing in the men’s room instead – you’d be more likely to have a witness if Leon dared to touch you there. You’ve thought about pissing in his fucking trashcan just out of spite, but he’d probably like that because he’s pure 100% pervert.

He pushes you up against the bathroom sink so hard the automatic hand dryer goes off. Once, he kept his hand under it the whole time to make sure no one heard the sounds of your struggle. You don’t struggle today. You don’t comply either, you just stand there limp, the only muscles that work are the ones that crinkle in disgust – you have to watch yourself in the mirror as he fucks you. You don’t cry for your own sake. You watch the lines in the corners of your eyes. They haven’t changed. Your pupils do, they’re emptier now, black voids. Eyes are not the windows to the soul, at least not to yours. You painted those windows shut. Not Leon’s either, you doubt he has a soul.

His hands wrap around the column of your neck as he jackhammers his cock inside you. The tip doesn’t kiss your cervix, it fucking punches it. Your IUD – you got it earlier that year in case Leon ever “forgets” to pull out – pokes the head of his dick and you have to stifle a laugh as he winces. Fuck you. Fuck you for fucking me. He buries the pain and shoves himself deeper, hits the little string again and a drip of blood falls from your uterus. Whatever. It does that once a month. Funny, he can’t hurt you as much as your own body can. Well, he could, but he hasn’t tried yet. He could kill you. You consider that fact all too often – what you’d be willing to do for him if he held you at gunpoint.

When he’s done, he hands you a wad of toilet paper to wipe his cum off your ass. He thinks its a courtesy. He leaves the bathroom before you do. Aftercare, for you, means five minutes of peace and quiet. He can’t get his dick back up immediately, he won’t come back and fuck you again, not yet. Aftercare means relief. Deep breath.

You allocate two to three minutes for crying. Your waterproof mascara is worth the twenty five dollars you paid. You cover your mouth with your hand and sob. You check the clock on the phone, times up. Look in the mirror, pull yourself together. You mouth the last three words to your own reflection. You have sympathy for the woman who stares back at you, but it’s tough love now. Nothing about you is soft anymore. You made the mistake of being kindhearted. It’s what led you here.

The next couple of minutes are peace. The post-tears state is orgasmic, truly. You feel sleepy, a tired smile graces your face. You capture it and keep it in a bottle for safe keeping. You run your fingers through your hair, wipe up any smudged makeup and return to business as usual.

You come to find that your indifference to his actions bothers Leon tremendously. It feels like you’re winning. You don’t like what he does to you. If you liked it, he could call you a whore and embarrass you. You don’t struggle, and force him to hold you down, a situation wherein he wins. You remain as silent and still as possible and it pisses him off to no end.

His only victory comes when you refuse to meet his eyes when you come into his office looking for something to do. He can see how he’s broken you down. He’s winning.

You find a solution. It’s sadistic, it’s sick, it’s morally reprehensible- illegal, too. But the other things you tried never worked. HR? No, Leon told them you lied. Putting up a fight? He’s stronger than you. Trying to get yourself to enjoy it? It’s something you can’t force. You looked up “how to induce Stockholm syndrome” and couldn’t find anything.

It’s an eye for an eye, baby.

Leon’s an idiot for getting wasted in front of you. You already have the upper hand, especially since he slurs out pathetic apologies while he throws himself a pity party.

“I’m sorry. You must hate me,” he says, “I’m a terrible person.”

“Yes, you are.”

You take him by the collar of his shirt and force him onto his living room couch. You rip his shirt off, making sure the buttons pop off to inconvenience him later.

Fuck your nice shirt. I hate you. I hate the way you look in it. I hate seeing you behind me in the mirror of the bathroom with the top button undone.

At first, he seems to enjoy it. Until you bite his neck too hard and his eyes well with tears. You overheard him telling someone once that he hates the feeling of anything touching his neck, so you make sure to choke him a bit while you do this. You don’t physically injure him ‘cause you’ve still got at least half a heart left.

You tear his pants down and shove his dick inside you. He likes it. You hold his wrists down and spit in his face. You can’t tell if he likes that or not.

Something in his face changes when you reach around to grab his ass. You haven’t fully committed, even mentally, to the act – it’s more of a scare tactic.

“You look fucking pathetic. At least take it like a man.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m fucking you, dumbass. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Not like this…”

“You don’t get to choose,” you say with a wicked grin, “you remember when you told me that?”

He doesn’t respond. He winces when he feels your finger enter him.

“Look at what you’ve made me into,” you whisper.

His lip quivers. “I’m raping you Leon, and you like it. I can feel you inside me.”

You promptly remove him from your hole. You scrutinize his dick. You could tell him it’s small, but it almost hurts more to not hear you say anything at all. Your sigh hurts worse. Pity.

You stroke him, lazily, pretending to be indifferent to the existence of his dick, when in reality, you find it repulsive. It’s the weapon he uses to penetrate you. You think about taking a knife to it, but you’re afraid. Of so many things.

You watch as his tip leaks. “You gonna cum?” you ask, sounding excited.

“Uh-huh,” he says. You can’t tell if he’s enjoying it. He fucks up into your fist. He’s almost there. You’ve memorized the sounds he makes when he cums, you’ve studied him.

You retract your hand. He looks like he’s going to cry. You laugh, really laugh.

“You think I’d let you cum?”

He looks genuinely surprised.

“You don’t even deserve to see me cum.” You pause, then add, “Not that I could. Not with you.” You frown at him, making sure it looks genuine.

“Feel free to take care of it yourself, but I’m going to leave now.”

“I’ll-” you know he wants to say he’ll call the cops, he’ll tattle on you, whatever.

You walk back over to him, stare him in the face, and echo his words, “No one will ever believe you.”

You turn around and leave.

Leon doesn’t meet your eyes on Monday. You’ve won.

Only half of Leon wants to do this to you. The half of him that still exists. The vile, horrid, fucked-up part. You remind him of himself and that’s precisely your mistake. You have a certain hope, an innocence he wants to tear away from you. He can’t steal it for himself, but he can force you to empathize with him. A victim, just like him.

When you squirm, he holds you down tighter. “Take it like a man,” he hears it loud and clear, after all this time. You’re not a man, so he tells you to take it like a “good slut” when he forces you down on your knees.

Tears prick in your waterline.

“I bet you like this,” he says, though he doubts it’s true.

Your answer is muffled by his cock down your throat anyhow. Whatever protests you have are null and void.

“You look pretty when you cry,” he says as he smacks you on the cheek with his cock, wet with your spit. Pretty boy, they called him. Shoved up against the lockers, held down on the turf, gun to his head once.

For the first time, he’s the one in charge.

“Please, stop,” you cried the first time. You stood between Leon and his desk.

“You don’t get to choose,” he said because he’s the boss, and despite how fucked up reality is, you don’t get to choose. You wouldn’t have chosen this.

Leon chose you on purpose. You looked like the type of girl he could break in. The dress you wore to the interview reminded him of one his mother use to wear when he was little, and she was young and pretty, and alive. He didn’t make that connection until later.

When you come to his house that night, he’s sorry, really. The part of him that he lost all those years ago lives at the bottom of the bottle. He, idiotically, takes you fucking him as a sign of forgiveness. Until your hands are around his throat and your finger is in his ass. When you’re rough, it’s boot camp, but when you’re tender it’s his mother sitting atop him. Your hand is soft like hers and he can’t decide if he likes it.

It’s easier to think about her when you touch him like that because at least he can pretend she loved him. In her own fucked-up way. He knows all those guys back in the barracks didn’t think of him as more than two holes plus a dick. And you, you fucking hate him and he can’t ignore that anymore.

He tries to ignore it, tries to ignore you entirely. He doesn’t lock eyes with you on Monday. He eats lunch in his car. Alone. Just like you.                     

[octuscle]

I want to turn myself into a twinky fuck toy for a wealthy man. Can chronviac help me with that?

Well, as they say, everything's bigger in Texas… I'm a junior partner in a large New York asset management firm. We take care of the high net worth clients. To get into our client file, you have to have over USD 100 million in free liquidity. Our clients are demanding. But we are the best. And we do everything for our customers. Really EVERYTHING!

When I took over the clients of a colleague who had retired a month ago, I thought Chuck Tex was a stage name. Until I had my first appointment with him. His record was more than impressive. Heir to old oil and cattle nobility. Classic career of the Texas oil barons. School in New England, studied in Paris, Oxford and Zurich, founded his first start-up company at the age of 20. And sold at 25 for USD 500 million. Now in his mid-30s, he had not yet inherited a cent from his family, but thanks to his excellent education and connections, he had already amassed a fortune on a par with that of his old man. I expected… Actually, I had no idea what I was expecting… But I certainly didn't expect this:

Chuck looked like a porn star. Or a marriage fraud. Or just like a man who I couldn't wait to throw me on the bed and fuck me mercilessly. His handshake was firm, but finely dosed just before the pain threshold. His gaze could certainly cut through steel plates. But I was a professional, I kept my composure. After I asked him what I could do for him, he got straight to the point. First of all, he needed some cash for his stay in New York. USD 10,000 would be enough. Gladly 100 dollar bills. But hot off the press, please. That was no problem. I sent a short memo to my assistant and she would take care of it. But the real reason for his visit was a project in Greenwich Village. He had bought a few buildings there that he was renovating. His aim was to restore the Village to its former charm. That's why he wanted to create cheap apartments, studios and stores and eliminate expensive office space. The whole thing was not intended as an investment, more as a hobby. A kind of gay and creative Disneyland. I briefly wondered why I wasn't actually a billionaire… And then I asked Chuck what my role was. Whether I could help with the financing or with saving taxes.

Chuck just grinned. No, saving taxes wouldn't fit in with his understanding of patriotism. And he would have financed it all with his last start-up exit. But he would need someone to take care of the real estate. Someone to ensure the right tenant mix. Someone to give his studio apartment the right finishing touches. I briefly went through my network in my mind. I had a gay acquaintance who owned a number of bars and restaurants. And I also knew a good project developer. And one of my school friends was a hip interior designer. I smiled and said I probably had just the people he needed. Chuck smiled back. It made my heart stop. He didn't want anyone from my network. He wanted me. I was about to say that I was flattered, but that I wasn't available for such projects right now. But instead I said "Of course, Daddy". Did I want to accompany him to the construction site? "If I may, Daddy!" At that moment, my assistant came in with a bundle of freshly pressed banknotes. Chuck smiled and said he needed me for the rest of the day. Please cancel all my appointments. I nodded to her and followed Chuck like a dog to its master.

In his limousine, Chuck asked me if I had ever been to Texas. I answered in the negative. But the boots I was wearing looked authentic. Yeah, they were my pride and joy. But I wouldn't have ridden a bull yet. I shook my head and giggled like a schoolgirl. Chuck kneaded the bulge in his pants and said that I would definitely be fucked by a bull today. I only got out a "Thank you, Daddy". Chuck let me sit on his lap. He undid another button of his silk shirt and exposed his right nipple. Like a puppy on its mother's teat, I began to suckle. Chuck kneaded my bulge and said that I was a good boy.

The car came to a halt in the second row in front of an old brick building. The walls were covered in high-quality graffiti. There was a closed table dance bar downstairs and some kind of jewelry store upstairs. Some kind of jewelry on display. Made of stainless steel. On closer inspection, piercing jewelry, cock rings and stainless steel dildos. I looked in the shop window like a child in the window of a candy store. Chuck took my hand, pulled me into the stairwell and told me that I could choose something later if I was good. He stroked the long hair on the back of my neck. I love my Mullet. I look a bit like the young cowboys on Daddy's Daddy's farm.

We had just arrived at Chuck's empty apartment when I got down on my knees in front of him and unbuttoned his pants. "First you strip for me, boy," Chuck ordered. He tossed me a cowboy hat that was in a closet. "Everything but your briefs, boots and hat!". Eagerly awaiting the reward, I did everything I was told to do. "And now lube yourself up". He threw me a bottle. And I did as I was told. I could feel my hard-earned muscles disappearing. I felt younger and younger. Although it was hard as steel, my cock was getting smaller and smaller. "I think you need a little more decoration, boy," Chuck said and put a chain on me. Satisfied, he looked at me as I sat on the floor and could hardly wait for my reward.

Chuck took his boner out of his pants. And I leaned back in anticipation. I wanted to be a good houseboy. And today was the housewarming party.

Chuck's pic found @mensuited, yours @hellishin

[richarlotte]

New in the life?

One of my older friends is currently in some sort of flirtation with a major player, and I’ve been living for the gossip. None of it is particularly groundbreaking, but it is interesting, and I do think it’s worth reading. 

1. No OnlyFans, no Fansly, no FanFix, and no private Snapchat. The better the player, the more scrutiny is on the girlfriend, especially if he’s a good player at a good school. It’s the same with (most popular) players to an extent as well; your social media needs to be clean with nothing more than modeling photos, nothing that could be considered more than soft (bikini pics are okay, full lingerie shoots are not), and no other links. If you’re with someone who’s pulling in NIL, has sponsorships, or is going to go into the league, you can’t be a liability, and if you are, the team will shut it down immediately and make sure you get dumped.

2. These guys aren’t necessarily looking to get married, but they’re also more religious and a lot more controlling than you’d think. We have a friend who went from playing college basketball at a state school to the NBA; he makes just under $10 million (before taxes) every year, and we’ve always known him to be religious. It should be obvious by now what I’m going to say, but I’ll say it anyway: he and most of his younger teammates are players on the road, but they want to control the image of the girls they’re with publicly and use God and their potential to do that.

3. The bigger and better the team, the more they have to lose. These are players with millions of dollars attached to their names; these are men who sell merch and have fan groups, and there are people who have quite a bit of money tied up in the future of these men. The second you become a real issue, you’re going to be on your way out. You don’t mess with the money; you never mess with the money, and the only people who don’t understand that are people who know what it’s like to have money. You don’t mess with the contract, you don’t mess with the outcomes of games, and you do your best to fly under the radar of watchful eyes.

4. There are 100% handlers. Whenever she goes out on dates with him, they have to go to specific places, they have to be seen at certain events together, and they can’t do a lot of the activities you’d think they’d be able to do. He also has private accounts, he’s not allowed to post normally on his public social media, he’s not allowed to post with her, and he has to be careful about seeming devoted to the game. He’s under the impression (and probably has been told) that the big leagues will only want him if he’s unattached and completely devoted, so the man he makes himself out to be on social media and in interviews is very different than the man we’ve all met. He’s being told what to do by his coaches, their assistants, and by NCAA lawyers.

Again, nothing groundbreaking, but it’s interesting. I love seeing what goes on behind the scenes, and I think it’s fascinating to see the rules that the girls who are with the more popular players abide by in order to have a chance at any sort of situationship/relationship.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I don't know if you've discussed this before but I don't really get madols/thaumarks in terms of value.

I thought it was like yen as in the anthology Azul is fretting over a 100(100 yen is 0.65 usd) coin and they all think he's paranoid, making 100 madol seem insignificant.

But then 50,000(yen to usd is 316 usd) madol for an item is supposed to be crazy expensive? As shown in the prologue.

Which isn't much for the exchange rate.

At the end of book 3 it states that the menu in the mostro lounge is then priced at 5-16 thaumark an item????

It makes no sense

I talked about the difference between thaumarks (in EN, similar to the American dollar) and madol (in JP, similar to the Japanese yen) in this post. You will find many examples there as well!

You might be confused about the value of thaumarks and madol because currently the yen irl is weak. For reference, right now 100 yen is 0.65 or 65 cents in USD (not even a full dollar). However, I believe that the “true” exchange rate for thaumark to madol is more accurately described as 100 yen for every 1 dollar/1.00 USD. This results in a "cleaner" converted number and is closer to the value of the yen to dollar (100 yen to 1 dollar) when TWST first came out in 2020–though EN would not come out until a few years later. In 2024, the conversion is closer to 150-160 yen for 1 dollar, and this difference is probably what resulted in your confusion.

Knowing this, a thaumark is actually 1/100 the value of a madol. Just move the decimal point of the numver over to the left by two spaces to do the madol to thaumark conversion! This would make the value of a 50,000 yen/madol item actually closer to 500 dollars/thaumarks.

It should be noted that the broken chandelier in the prologue is stated to be worth “a billion” or more in both EN’s thaumarks and JP’s madol. Some numerical values like this are left unchanged between the two servers.

In real life, the value of currencies fluctuates all the time! But in a game like TWST, the currencies can be stabilized and unchanging regardless of what happens in the real world. That's likely the case in this situation.

In the anthology comic you referenced, the whole joke IS that Azul is fretting over what is a miniscule amount of missing money because he is just that stingy. The 100 madol coin and its 1 thaumark (or 100 sorcents) equivalent are supposed to be seen as not a lot of currency. He's overreacting over some change in both JP and EN currencies.

Edit: In the official English localization for the anthology manga, Azul states that “100 thaumarks” are missing. I believe a different translation team handles the manga, so this inconsistency may be an error. The error implies 100 dollars are missing. In reality, it should probably be “1 thaumark”, or a $1 coin, which is the equivalent of a 100 madol/yen:

As for the pricing of menu items at the Mostro Lounge, I don't think the values are strange at all. The prices quoted, however, are a little off. The items mentioned in book 3 actually range from 6-15 thaumarks or 600-1500 madol.

Azul explains that the drinks on the menu are 6 thaumarks/dollars (600 madol/yen). This is even more expensive than asking for a glass of juice or soda at a restaurant (a few dollars or a few hundred yen). It’s about the same price as a specialty drink (think like a mocktail or something). Putting that another way, that’s about the same cost as a tall Starbucks drink.

Azul also says that there is a limited menu with items for 15 thaumarks/dollars (1500 madol/yen), which I imagine are like the lunch sets or desserts. Many cafes and especially anime/manga collab cafes (which are notorious for being costly) have similar pricing for their dishes; in some cases. Here is an example of a menu from a Tokyo Mew Mew collab cafe (although you can find several others with matching prices or cost even more):

Let's also keep in mind that Azul only stated that items on THIS particular limited collab menu were 15 thaumarks/dollars or 1500 madol/yen each. We don't know if other limited collab menus or if the regular item menus are higher/lower cost. We should be cautious of using the 6-15 thaumarks/dollars or 600-1500 madol/yen range to cover the entirety of the food and drink prices that Mostro Lounge offers. For example, in Azul’s Dorm Uniform vignettes, he specifies that he’s selling the Mystery Drink for 1500 madol/yen or 15 thaumarks/dollars, which is significantly more than (/over double) the usual cost of a Mostro Lounge drink. If you got the mystery drink with your lunch, you’d already be in at $30 or 3,000 yen for a single meal—and again, this is only if you don’t count extra costs for tax and/or tip.

Let's do some math terrifying, I know... Deuce is shaking for what I assume is the regular order for a student dining in. We will order 1 drink and 1 item from the limited menu. Without tax (and tip, if Twisted Wonderland has that), this alone would cost you $21 or 2,100 yen. It'll cost even more if you order extra drinks or dessert. I imagine that just the 1 drink and 1 limited menu item together already cost significantly more than what you can get to eat at the school cafeteria. Because NRC is based on a British boarding school, let's use the irl cost of the average British high school's lunch costs (2-3 pound sterling, according to Google) to compare. 2-3 pound sterling is about 3.70 USD or 370 yen. Even if we were to assume that a private British boarding school would charge significantly more for food (because it's a "fancier" institution)—be it double, triple, or quadruple the price—students would still be paying a fraction of what one casual meal at the Mostro Lounge would cost. Not only that, but NRC students are getting more bang for their buck in the cafeteria, since food is served buffet style. You get a lot more variety and amount of food for much less initial cost. Comparatively, Mostro Lounge is the expensive option 🤡 (even if most of the main cast and NRC student body seem to be from pretty well-off families and could probably afford eating there daily, no problem). The average high school student has no income, has limited allowance, or earns minimum wage, so that cost of a fancy Mostro Lounge meal would take quite a bite from their personal spending budget.

[lowkeyrobin]

helloo !! i was wondering if u could write anything that has finn wolfhard and reader.

- 🗡️

ooo sure! thank you for requesting 🗡!! ; I just randomly thought of this somehow so hopefully this makes any sort of sense? idrk tbh I'm just trying to write something lol ; also ty for the message you sent!! I promise I saw it haha, I just deleted it because I was flustered and upset over a million things (guys if it involves any sort of politics don't comment even if you're right bc some rando will make it ab them and call you a brainwashed moron) but thank you, I appreciate it a lot 🫶🫶🫶

FINN WOLFHARD ; thrift shop

summary ; you go to a thrift shop with Finn because why not

warnings ; language

word count ; 474

masterlist

"What are you looking for?"

You shrug, flipping through CDs among the shelves, looking for anything you'd be interested in. He nods, looking through the records section with you.

You decided to hit up a random Goodwill you found while passing through the town, wanting to see if you could find anything good. He'd found a thin jacket, colored dark blue with white stripes, with small, white lettering on the front that spelled out certified guitar guy. It was only seven dollars, so he decided it was a need over a want.

He pulls out a few records, looking at the condition of the actual vinyls and the covers to see if the money was even worth it. You continue scanning through the CDs, looking for anything that would grab your eye. After no luck with the music search, you head back to the clothing section since Finn had begged you to. They had the heat, he said.

You couldn't doubt his comment after finding a one of a kind t-shirt though. It originated probably from 2013 or something, featuring a weird picture of MGK on the front, with neon red text that was 100% written by some parasocial fangirl.

Finn holds up his phone camera, snapping a picture of you holding the shirt to your chest, posing with it. He captions it "this Goodwill has the heat" before posting it to Instagram. You quietly laugh it off, searching for anything you'd actually wear.

You end up finding some good clothes, him as well. But there were definitely some honorable mentions. Some of those included a navy blue grandma-core shirt with a drawing of a sun and moon on it, colored a weird shade of yellow. Another pictured a SpongeBob meme, which nearly killed Finn, and you'd found a similar one to that, being a jacket with printed on fabric.

"Who donated their Temu order, guys?" You laugh, holding up the weird jacket and matching fake denim pants to show Finn.

"That's insanely disgusting." He smiles, looking away to not throw up at the sight of the hideous fast fashion.

You hang the two items back up, also not wanting to look at them. You fade into the random decor section, seeing the usual donation items. You cover your mouth to hide a smile before grabbing something, turning around to show Finn.

"Finn..."

"Oh my God"

"Who's wannabe biker mom died?"

"I don't know"

You hold up a little kitchen sign, reading something about motorcycles, guns, and Donald Trump, laughing as you put it back down, using a set of pots to cover it up.

You pose next to an old grandfather clock in the back corner, pointing up at it with an Instagram worthy smile. "Stranger Things who?"

"We're leaving"

"Damnit"

"What is that...?"

"A chair shaped like a banana"

"Okay, let's go."