#also this was just from a quick cursory search

[aceofwhump]

Is it true in America you eat sweet potato with marshmallows melted on top at Thanksgiving? :O I just want an explanation

LOL! Yup! That is a very popular American American Thanksgiving dish. It's not one that my family is into so I can't tell you if it's actually any good but it is indeed popular in the U.S. We like our marshmallows and our sugar here lol.

I was curious why how it came about so I did a little research (historical research is honestlyone of my favorite pastimes lol). Turns out it's a dish that has been around a while. Sweet potatoes have always been popular in the states but it was in 1917 when the creators of Crackers of Jack created the Angelus Marshmallows, the hired the founder of Boston Cooking School Magazine, Janet McKenzie Hill, to come up with a book of marshmallow recipes “to encourage home cooks to embrace the candy as an everyday ingredient.” Among the recipes that Hill incorporated marshmallows into was sweet potato casserole.

So basically the dish was invented because of capitalism and the desire to sell marshmallows. And it became a Thanksgiving dish because we were already eating sweet potatoes at that time so the casserole just kinda took its place.

That was probably more information than you wanted but I like sharing fun facts like this so I hope it was interesting!

[kitnita]

Hello Zoe, your mirobotter fic was a paradigm shift and a work of genius!! I haven't stopped thinking about it all weekend!! In it you mentioned that there was an article about the 2017 draft class talking about each other -- is this a real thing we can behold with our own hands and eyes?

i would've sworn i was referencing Very Real Things but i tried hunting around for articles with at least a quote from each of them talking about each other and apparently! there are none!! i would have bet actual money that there was at least ONE article like this written by mike heika and posted to nhl dot com forward slash stars, and yet.

the closest i found, as far as official articles where they're kind of talking about each other, is this one from this past october where all three of them are more just talking about The Team and Doing What It Takes To Win. this one from when otter & robo were about to start their first pro season with the texas stars (and miro was already more established) focuses more on otter & robo and sees them talking a little bit about the draft class.

' “I like to call myself a top forward prospect, Miro is one of the best defensemen in the league already, so that obviously panned out. And then they got a top goalie prospect,” Robertson said. “I think it was a pretty succesful draft that year. In the next couple years, I want to be able to have it where people mention how that draft changed the franchise.” “I think we want to make our mark on the Stars and maybe be remembered as one of the better drafts the Stars have had in a while,” Oettinger added. “It would be cool to have me and (Robertson) both make the team at some point soon and be representing that draft class and having people look back and say, ‘Wow, that was a great draft for the Stars.'” '

which is cool!! but there's no miro there, he is simply haunting the narrative for jake & jason as the ghost of hockey future. and then every article about the 2017 draft class is more just .......... people from the front office and/or various coaches talking about them, rather than them talking about themselves. the thing is, i know they've all talked about their draft class — even miro!! but those quotes must just be confined to media availabilities, or other random solo interviews.

this is going to eat away at me now so i will. probably. chip away at hunting down quotes they've given on each other and compiling them somewhere, if only so i can have it as a reference point!

& in the meantime i'd like to issue a formal apology for gaslighting both myself & you into believing there was a '2017 draftees on 2017 draftees' article out there

[faebaex]

MELLEUS WITH A LIGHT FEMALE FEA READER LIKE ITS RARE AND A LIGHT FAE WHO NEVER SAW A DARK FAE AND A DARK FAE WHO NEVER SAW A LIGHT FAE

VSISBSLAKVAJKA HAHAHHA

author note: i had lots of fun writing this. Malleus does not understand sarcasm and reader is not much better (¯▿¯) this went in a completely different direction than i was expecting, but as usual inspiration struck during writing! Also, my first ever request! Thank you so much!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

characters: Malleus x F!Light Fae Reader

Grandma always told you to be careful when you left the cottage. Not to stray too far, because you could never be too sure about what you would encounter, or what would encounter you. "Fae like us are rare in this world, and you can't rely on everyone to be understanding." you remember your grandma warning you often.

Usually, you would never venture out at night. But tonight, the lanterns in your cottage had gone out, so no time like the present to go fetch some fresh lanternblossoms to refill them, right? They were easier to locate at night, after all, so if you were quick, you could be back within the hour. You grabbed your basket, and headed out.

With an iridescent flash, you teleported into the nearby glade and took a cursory look around. Perfect! Not a soul in sight. Humming a soft tune to yourself and swinging your basket, you began your search for lanternblossoms.

A bright flash of light filtering through the trees broke Malleus out of his thoughts, and he frowned. Perhaps this area was not as abandoned as he first thought. How bothersome. He trailed through the trees, in the direction of the light, a hand travelling across old bark as he journeyed. Perhaps it was a phenomena of this old forest that caused the glow, and not a soul instead.

And what a phenomena it was.

As Malleus made his way through the trees, his sharp ears picked up a soft song coming from the glade in front, a beautiful sound that attracted him like a moth to a flame. Or a dragon to a shining treasure...

Malleus broke through the trees silently, and the sight that greeted him was one he'd never imagined. It was as if a scene had sprung itself from a story book, or a history book even. The song that was floating from the glade was coming from a slight, frail looking creature, crouched among the undergrowth, a basket heaving with glowing blossoms resting by her side. But what surprised him were the enchanting, gossamer wings that sprouted from your back, shining in the darkness of the night. They were like nothing he had ever seen before, and before he knew it, he had already teleported to get a closer look.

You felt the intrusion before you saw it. A gentle but inquisitive rub at the tip of your wings startled you, and your head whipped back to see an imposing figure behind you. You hadn't even heard anything, how did he get right behind you?! On reflex, you slapped the hand away and stumbled to your feet, knocking your basket over in the process. You whirled around, hands on your hips and glared at the crude intruder, "you can't just touch someone without their permission! Especially something as personal as their wings! Have you no shame?!"

The tall, horned stranger regarded you with wonder, his eyes constantly flickering from your face to your wings in unhidden intrigue, "I've never seen a fae with wings like yours before," he stated, "how curious..." he muttered, and again he reached out a hand to touch your wings. Instinctively you leaned away and batted at his hand in an attempt to keep him at bay.

"H-hello!? Did you hear a word I just said to you? How would you like it if I just grabbed at you? In fact, why don't I just..." You planted your feet and leaped, pushing enough power in your legs to propel yourself high enough to grab a hold of one of the stranger's horns. What you wasn't expecting was for an arm to curl around your waist and keep you held aloft, using the opportunity to inspect your wings at this closer distance.

"Fascinating..." he breathed into your ear, entirely unbothered by your hand on his horn as his free hand came up to ghost along the edge of one of your wings and you couldn't help but flutter them at the contact. You gawked at the unabashed nature of this man and for a moment, you were unsure about what to do. But then you got a hold of yourself and begun to kick your legs and tug at his horn, "put me down, you brute!"

Malleus' lips downturned in dismay as your struggling disturbed his admiration of your wings but he did not let you go. Instead, he turned his face towards yours, uncomfortably close, and gazed at you, "would it put you at ease to see my wings as well?"

"... What? No! Why would I-- Put me down! And why aren't you scared of me?!" You hissed, renewing your struggling with vigour until eventually, the horned stranger lowered you until your feet touched the ground. Once you'd gotten your footing, you quickly let go of his horn and took a step back. Irritatingly, the stranger was still giving you a rather curious look.

"Scared? Why would I be afraid?" Malleus questioned, suddenly feeling rather taken aback. Usually, most were scared of him, not the other way around. What a curious little creature he had happened upon...

You folded your arms across your chest, puffing out your cheeks a little, “Grandma always told me that light fae are extremely feared by others, especially humans, so I should be careful, in case I startle anyone with my ominous presence!” Your own words ended up making you frown, “but you don’t seem very startled at all, just who are you?” 

Malleus’ eyes widened in surprise at your words. A light fae? He had only read about them in old tomes hidden away in towards the back of the castle’s library. Even then, the tomes only ever had descriptions, no photos or depictions of light fae in them. There has not been any light fae sightings in over a century, to the extent that it was now rumoured that the light fae were extinct. Does this mean they were all hiding? If so, what were they hiding from?

You could feel the heat of the horned stranger’s gaze on you as he observed you, it seemed every word you spoke to him only enflamed his curiosity of you more. You puffed out your cheeks more, confused at his apparent lack of fear and you scowled more, trying to appear at least a little intimidating, “Hey! I asked you a question!” 

Malleus blinked, before he held an inquisitive hand to his chin, his head tilted, “I am also fae, but not the same origin as you... I suppose specifically, as you are a light fae, I would be regarded as a dark fae.” You stared open mouthed at him for a moment, before you snorted at him in disbelief. 

“Is that supposed to be a ruse? Everyone knows that dark fae aren’t real!” A laugh bubbled out of your chest, and Malleus couldn’t help but think that it was the sweetest sound, even though you were technically laughing at him. Either way, now it was his turn to frown, hands on his hips as he stared you down. 

“Are you quite well? It is common knowledge that dark fae are descendent from the Thorn Fairy, one of the Great Seven,” Malleus retorted, “it is also common knowledge that Briar Valley is the realm of the dark fae.” 

You laughed a little more, but it slowly died in your throat as you saw how serious he was. “Well, I’ve never heard of this ‘Briar Valley’, and the only things I’ve heard about dark fae are from bedtime stories from my grandma.” You found yourself mimicking his posture, hands on your hips stubbornly as you returned his frown, “besides, you have horns! What kind of fae has horns?” 

“A dragon fae.” He answered immediately, his expression morphing more to offense at your words, but mostly he was confused by your odd behaviour. Believing light fae, the more humanly accepted type of fae, to be considered terrifying by others? Believing dark fae don’t exist and having no knowledge of Briar Valley? How peculiar you were. You acted like you were from a different world altogether. 

You let out another unbelieving laugh, dropping your hands from your hips, “riiight... This is the part where you tell me dragons are real too, yeah? If you are a dragon, then I’m a lost princess.” You turned away, stepping back towards your basket and missing the stunned expression he gave you as you began gathering your blossoms back into the basket, “I guess people like you were why grandma never wanted me to leave the house.” 

Malleus stared on at you in shock. A light fae princess? That would make sense why you were so unaware of the world around you. Perhaps the light fae had hidden you away for your own safety? The world during the war had been a dangerous place, after all. This grandma who kept you inside must have done so with the intention of protecting the royal lineage. Then why were you now outside, alone? Unaccompanied? He knew himself that royalty rarely get a moment alone, constantly trailed after by guards... What if you were in danger?

You finished gathering up the last of your fallen lanternblossoms, pushing the basket up into the crook of your arm, “well, as lovely as it was to meet you, I’ll be goin--” 

“Come with me.” 

You gawked at him. This man had a talent for consistently shocking you with the outrageous things that came out of his mouth. When you thought he honestly couldn’t surprise you any more, he’d suddenly say something equally or more bizarre. “Uh... I don’t think--”

Malleus’ expression was soft all of a sudden, sympathetic, “it is not safe for you to be here alone. I will take you to Briar Valley and we will find a way to return you safely to your kingdom.” Malleus felt sorry for you. It must be frightening, alone and separated from your kin, confused by the world. With the rarity of the light fae, it would be a sin to allow royalty, perhaps the last remaining of the light fae, to continue wandering alone. To Malleus, your safety was now paramount. He was sure Lilia would know what to do. 

“I- What? Look, I think you’ve got the wrong ide--” You started to say but clearly the horned stranger’s words were not a request, as he reached out and grabbed hold of your wrist. Before you could even finish your retort, a green flash enveloped you both and you felt weightless. Magic. You didn’t get a moment to react, to even gasp, before the scenery around you drastically changed.

No longer were you in the glade by your home. You stood much higher up now, amongst steep, craggy mountains and a dark, almost oppressive scenery. But none of that compared to the sight before you. A castle larger than you had ever seen sat nestled between the mountains, with high pointed spires and gleaming green flames lighting the grand, arched windows. And just like the bedtime stories that your grandma used to tell you, the entire castle was surrounded in verdant, biting thorns. Your jaw hung open, your mind unable to comprehend the sight before you and what was happening. 

The horned stranger released your wrist and took a step towards the castle, observing the shock on your features before gesturing towards the castle with an elegant sweep of his arm. 

“Welcome to the Valley of Thorns, Princess.”

[pixiemage]

These Small Hours

(So basically I saw the little "Sorry, Rancher!" moment between Jimmy and Tango, deemed it cute, and wrote 2k words of the fluffiest fluff that I imagine happens after the clocks are paused at the end of the session. :3)

(Title comes from "Little Wonders" by Rob Thomas)

[This work can also be read on Archive of our Own]

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Despite the exposure to the open air, sleeping on the roof of the half-burned woodland mansion was more pleasant than Jimmy had anticipated. The mass of torches ensured that no mobs would spawn nearby, and none could reach them up here from the ground with the way the lower portion of the building had been reduced to nothing but a shell. The sky above was strewn with stars, and even now - late into the night when he should’ve been sleeping - he traced patterns with his eyes, weaving invisible connections between the glimmering dots and trying to remember what few constellations he knew…and what few Tango had taught him on late nights on the roof of the ranch. The only downside, Jimmy supposed, was the chill, which was only slightly alleviated by a few lit furnaces nearby, and he supposed his wings helped a decent amount. But even so, a part of him longed for a warm bed and worn wood walls and a smoky scent on the pillow and familiar arms wound comfortably around him and a warm presence tucked close beside him.

Jimmy sighed softly, adjusting his wings to take some pressure off an aching point near his spine.

He missed Tango, was the truth of it. He knew his soulmate was on the same server as him, not even that far away with how small the map felt this season, but it still felt too far. Especially after the lone, brief exchange they’d had earlier in the rush of the game–

Teasing and bickering across a small stretch of water, Joel killing the cow, Etho spinning the boat around to face him, Tango leaping across the water to get a better view. Then Jimmy had rushed forward, had elbowed Tango aside, had only realized his mistake when he caught Tango’s stumbled, half-wincing landing out of the corner of his eye. He had cast a sheepish smile back over his shoulder, tossed back an apology - “Sorry, rancher!” - and their eyes, however briefly, had met. Tango had grinned, had laughed, had looked almost proud, and then threatened his life with a smile and wink. Then Jimmy and Joel had fled, and Etho had watched them go, and then…

Jimmy withheld another sigh and sat up, rolling his shoulders and his head to dispel the crick in his neck. There was no way he could sleep like this. He eased himself to his feet and crept away from Grian and Joel’s sleeping forms, careful to avoid weak patches of the roof so he wouldn’t make a creak and wake them up. Not that he was doing anything he wasn’t allowed to do. He just - didn’t want to try and explain. It felt private, personal.

When he reached the edge of the roof, he looked down. He could’ve tried to find a hole in the ceiling and land on the staircase he supposed, but he had attempted that earlier and gotten a sore ankle for his troubles. No, landing in grass seemed like a softer alternative if he somehow managed to bungle this. But he wouldn’t. He could do this. He was a bad boy, wasn’t he? He’d done a few water bucket clutches today already. He could do another. He was getting better at it, in truth, so surely he could do it again?

Jimmy dug a bucket of water from his inventory and took a break, stepping back before leaping from the edge. Gravity took hold quickly and he spread his wings. He couldn’t fly, but he could catch air, and it slowed him enough that timing the water would be easier - and - splash.

He stumbled, staggered, but it was a clean landing. (Despite it being such a small victory, Jimmy grinned. Nailed it.) With a quick cursory glance around to avoid any nearby hostile mobs, Jimmy stowed his water, summoned his sword, and ducked through the trees in search of the coastline that had been stolen from him and Joel earlier that day.

It was empty and quiet when Jimmy arrived. The water was still, Scott’s little cluster of manmade islands aglow in the distance, and the place was easily recognizable from the multiple times Jimmy had come by in the past day. But…it was empty and quiet. The little sandy strip of land that Tango and Etho and the rest of their team had been inhabiting early that afternoon was completely abandoned, the top few layers scraped away with no signs of life as far as Jimmy could see. He leapt across the little river separating it from the land, missing his step and sucking in a sharp gasp when his foot splashed into the water on the other side. He grimaced, shaking out his shoe.

Ugh. That was gonna be a pain to deal with later…

Slowly, quietly, Jimmy circled the little area a few times, his ear feathers flared to catch any stray sounds…but he heard nothing. Nothing but the sea and the wind and the occasional distant zombie or spider lingering off in the trees. Had they left? Had they moved on? Had they deemed the area not worthy and abandoned it even after their showdown against Jimmy and Joel? Jimmy sighed, a quiet and warbled chirp meeting the air and his wings drooping against his back. Oh. Maybe he should have messaged ahead. Of course, he had avoided doing that in the first place in case Tango was asleep and Jimmy’s message woke him up (and his teammates along with him), but it may have been a smarter move than simply sneaking over with no notice in the middle of the night. He cast a glance back the way he had come, the feathers around his ears pinning back against his head. Maybe he ought to go back. Maybe he should just give up and–

“...Jimmy?”

A hand brushed his shoulder, a whispered voice breaking the silence of the night, and Jimmy about leapt out of his skin. The sound that left him was one he was most certainly not proud of, but any embarrassment he may have felt vanished as soon as he whipped around on shocked, unsteady feet.

“Tango!”

And there Tango was, his clothes and hair just a little bit wet but his grin absolutely blinding. He had a hand half-raised and he was chuckling sheepishly, the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement.

“Sorry, sorry!” He held back his laughter, his words low. “I didn’t mean to spook ya!”

Jimmy gaped at him and blinked away his surprise.

“Where did you even come from?!”

“Uh–” Tango jerked a thumb back over his shoulder toward the water then made a vague gesture toward his feet. “Our base? It’s underground. We dug out a bit of a sneaky-sneaky entrance underwater, but it’s a bit of a pain if I’m being honest. Except, after Martyn came through and dumped a pile of explosives on our heads it seemed like a good idea to get rid of topside entry, so–”

Oh. Oh. Oh, they were just–

“I thought you’d left or something,” Jimmy blurted, his feathers puffing up at the admission. “I didn’t see a base, and I haven’t heard from you since earlier, so I assumed…” He shrugged.

It sounded silly, really, when he said it like that. He sounded clingy almost, but he knew that Tango knew that wasn’t what he meant. In fact, Tango let out another stifled laugh and shook his head fondly, finally closing the gap to wrap a warm hand around Jimmy’s wrist and tug him closer.

“What, you missed me that much?” he murmured, teasing, cheeky, and Jimmy went a bit pink.

“Of course not,” he grumbled, trying to sound nonchalant, but from the way Tango’s grin widened he was doing an awful job.

It wasn’t as if Jimmy tried to hide that fact either. The moment Tango was close enough he all but melted into his soulmate’s space, cuddling close and tucking his face into the crook of Tango’s neck as though he belonged there. He slipped an arm around the blazeborn’s flame-warmed waist and let out a small sigh, the tension in his posture going slack almost instantly.

“Of course,” he amended, whispered, like a secret in the dark, and he reveled in the warm and affectionate little laugh he could feel vibrate through Tango’s chest from how closely they were standing.

“Wanna know the truth?” Tango asked. The fingers still wound around Jimmy’s wrist traced little circles against the skin where he held him. “I miiiight’ve been sneakin’ out to try and find you too.”

Jimmy pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes, his expression alight with curiosity and a flutter of affection warming his chest.

“Were you really?”

Tango grinned at him.

“What, you think I just happened to be outside when you came by?” he drawled. He cocked his head to the side with a sharp little smirk. “Nah, I ditched the guys to try and track down that mansion spot you and your team have claimed. It’s near spawn somewhere, and it’s kinda hard to miss. I figured I’d spot it soon enough. But it seems like you did some sneakificating of your own instead.” He lowered his voice playfully. “I guess you really are a bad boy, huh?” he teased, waggling his eyebrows, and Jimmy went a brilliant shade of red.

“Oh, stop, c’mon,” he whined, shrinking beneath the laughter in Tango’s eyes. “It’s just a team name, innit?”

“No no, I think I like it!” It was obvious Tango was withholding laughter as he carried on. “My soulmate’s a rebel. I think I can dig it. I’m sure I’ve got a leather jacket somewhere you can borrow if you wanna look the part–”

“Tangooo!”

Jimmy’s wings curled forward and he pressed his face back into Tango’s shoulder, if only to avoid the laughter he could see in every inch of his partner’s expression. And Tango did laugh then, bright and barking and echoing just slightly across the water. Jimmy grumbled and buried his face into the fabric of Tango’s hoodie, clearly something he had thrown on for the sake of his late-night escapade. His soulmate was the worst. W-O-R-S-T worst.

When Tango’s laughter finally faded, a calm sort of quiet settled over the pair. The water was calming and the breeze was light and the comfort of being back in Tango’s arms was enough for Jimmy to be so very tempted to drift off right where he stood…but that would be foolish, he knew. Except Tango’s touch along his wrist was soothing and at some point his other hand had come up to rest against the back of Jimmy’s neck, his fingers scratching lightly through Jimmy’s hair, and he was so warm.

“...don’t go fallin’ asleep on me, Feathers,” Tango teased softly. “C’mon, Grian won’t start the timers again until everyone is awake tomorrow. You can bunk up with me for the night, I’m sure none of the guys would mind.”

“Hm…?” Jimmy straightened slowly and it took him a long moment to register what Tango was offering. He frowned and glanced in the general direction of the mansion. “...they’ll wonder where I’ve gone,” he murmured. “Grain and Joel. I can’t - with the game–”

“Jim, c’mon.” Jimmy was pulled gently along toward the edge of the island and he didn’t really have much willpower to turn Tango down. “It’ll be fine. Etho is a super early riser. I’m sure he’ll wake one of us up before the rest of the server is up.”

Jimmy cast one last look back over his shoulder, but when he turned back to Tango, the blazeborn had a sweet, pleading look on his face, his eyes half-aglow and standing out in the darkness of the night.

“Please? I’ve missed you. I know we said it wouldn’t be fair to team together again but it’s driving me nuts being on the same server as you and not being near you.” He leaned in to better catch Jimmy’s eye. “You can’t sleep either, I can tell. One night. Clock’s not tickin’ right now. We’ve got time.”

They had time.

Jimmy sighed and let out warbled chirp, letting himself be tugged close to his soulmate again. Their foreheads bumped gently together, their noses brushing, and when they met in the middle in a soft and long-awaited kiss, Jimmy was the one to initiate it.

“...one night,” he returned once they had separated. “Just the one. Alright?”

Tango beamed.

“That’s all the time I need.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Our lives are made In these small hours These little wonders These twists and turns of fate Time falls away But these small hours These small hours Still remain

(A/N: ...approximately 30 seconds after they get into the base, they both receive a message from Scott saying he's glad they've "finally stopped flirting on the shoreline, water carries sound like you wouldn't believe".)

[stellerssong]

Hi again. I'm on some level here to ask for a complete explanation of every aspect of Hawaiian culture that is even tangentially related to your latest fic because I know absolutely nothing and there is the ever present concern that the terms run through cursory Google Translate and internet searching will lose nuance and implications. There were definitely some references to divinities and myths and such that went over my unenlightened head. The story you wove was rich and intricate enough to be held in the mind of someone who knows less than nothing and still have great meaning and truth, but I know that it will mean yet more if I can see the threads you used to make it. (On another level, I'm asking for the explanation because I am abruptly deeply interested in a topic I had previously not thought about very much, and you seem to be significantly more of an expert than the average internet search.)

first off! well first off i am blowing you so many kisses for this very kind ask, thank you so much for giving me an excuse to ramble at (great, great, great) length.

so second off! i would just like to stress that i am very much not an expert in hawaiian language, folklore, history, culture, etc. i am neither kānaka maoli (native hawaiian) nor kamaʻāina (born in hawaiʻi although not necessarily of hawaiian ancestry), and i have not studied these topics formally/in a setting that applies academic rigor. i am an enthusiastic amateur with a personal connection to hawaiian culture, the kind of brain that likes to fixate on areas of interest, and a willingness to scrounge around for reading material. i have, i think, a decent sense of what some of the baseline texts in the field are, and a fairly good bullshit detector (and the understanding/ability to dig into things when i can't rely on the bullshit detector), but ultimately i am a layman and an outsider with corresponding perspectives and biases. i also, i will admit frankly, have a pretty sharp knowledge cutoff corresponding to the time of first european contact, just because of my own personal interests and reading preferences.

read that whole disclaimer? let your eyes glaze over while you skimmed it? good! here's my real quick (lmao) rundown of Sum Things U Should Know If You Wanna Close-Read Kīpuka:

ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi 101

Good grief when I put it like that I do NOT feel qualified to tell you any of this. Anyway. We can keep it basic just so you can get a sense of the mouthfeel of the words. And just fyi ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi is the proper name of the language; i'll be using "Hawaiian" as the adjective form, sans ʻokina, assuming an English-speaking readership.

ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi as it is commonly rendered today has 13 letters: 5 vowels (A, E, I, O, and U) and 7 consonants (H, K, L, M, N, P, W), plus the ʻokina or glottal stop (that little apostrophe-lookin' dude at the beginning of the word ʻokina, also the source of most of my typesetting woes). Pronunciation-wise, there are no silent letters and no though/through/enough-type surprises: every letter is pronounced, and all of the vowel renderings are approximately equivalent to how you'd pronounce them in Spanish or Italian. Hence, the word kuahine = koo-ah-HEE-nay rather than, like, kyoo-ah-highn, which made me feel gross even just typing it out.

The ʻokina is pronounced, and bear with me here, like the dash in the english nuh-uh. or, if you're a try-hard vocalist—reattack the vowel after the ʻokina instead of eliding it to the vowel prior. So the place-name Kaʻū is pronounced ka-OO, as distinct from the word kau which is pronounced more like kow (which is a bit of an oversimplification of the latter word, but I'm trying to be efficient here).

That leads us neatly into the other diacritical marking used in ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi, the kahakō or macron which helpfully appears in its own name. No worries here; the kahakō just serves as a stress marker, so you'd say kahakō = ka-ha-KO instead of ka-HA-ko, or from the example above ka-OO rather than KA-oo.

There are a couple of other little pronunciation tricks here and there. The letter W is sometimes pronounced as a V, and unfortunately I can't really describe the rules for that shift; that is one I must admit I know mostly from vibes. For example, the correct pronunciation of Hawaiʻi itself is ha-VAI-ee, but I've never heard the place-name Waimea pronounced as anything but why-MEY-ah.

Occasionally you will encounter the letter K pronounced as a T, which I believe is an artifact of the morphological shift from older related languages such as Tahitian and Samoan which do preserve the letter T as a unique phoneme. To my knowledge, the Kauaʻi dialect (spoken today on Niʻihau) also preserves the T, but most spoken ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi heard elsewhere is based on the Big Island dialect, which lacks the T. One notable exception is the word tūtū (an affectionate/respectful term for a grandparent or elder), which you really don't hear pronounced as kūkū.

Really, though, listening to Hawaiian music is how I got the language in my ear and imo it's the best way to get it in yours. Can't go wrong with Israel Kamakawiwoʻole (of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" fame), but I have a personal soft spot for Kealiʻi Reichel, Weldon Kekauoha, Amy Hanaialiʻi, and the Cazimero Brothers.

The Place-y-ness of Hawaiian Literature

This is more of a sidenote than its own heading, but I'm the one driving the essay, and I think it's an interesting thing to point out, just because it helps establish a particular perspective I wanted to keep in mind while writing this fic.

Something you might notice as you start to look at Hawaiian oli, mele, and myth is the high level of specificity of place. Hawaiʻi is, let's be honest, not that enormous of a place when you consider it on a global scale—but the specificity of localities within Hawaiian literature is kind of astounding. Not only are there loads of place-names referenced in any given work, there are unique Hawaiian names for landmarks, cliffs, peaks, hills, streams, waterfalls—even rains and winds of specific locations merit their own names.

"kīpuka" is very specifically set on the windward side of Hawaiʻi island, so I made an effort to focus my references to place-names on that region—Hilo, ʻŌlaʻa, and Waiākea are all locations on the eastern side of the island, and the one reference to Kona on the leeward side reflects the coming of someone bearing grievances (in addition to eia aʻe ka makani Kona being an existing idiom warning the listener to watch out for an angry person, the windward and leeward sides of Hawaiʻi island have a long history of territorial warfare and jockeying for control of the island). I'd also considered having the bird discussed in the fic be a different species, the kākāwahie—but that species is/was endemic to Molokaʻi, and quite honestly my knowledge of the history and culture of Molokaʻi as a separate polity is not that great.

(This is partly due to sample bias—my introduction to Hawaiʻi was within a Big Island-based context. At the same time, another thing you may notice about the better-known source texts is that many of them center around Hawaiʻi island and, to a lesser extent, Maui, thanks to the political supremacy during the unification/post-contact era of Hawaiʻi island and Maui aliʻi. Ross Cordy wrote a whole ass book about the Oʻahu chiefdoms that is simply not to be had for love or money no matter how I search for it. I am THIS CLOSE to straight up cold emailing the man and being like I WILL VENMO YOU $75 USD DIRECTLY IF YOU WILL SIMPLY JUST SEND ME A COPY OF YOUR BOOK. PLEASE. SAVE ME ROSS CORDY.)

Girl (Gender Neutral), I Cannot Explain Hawaiian Mythology, Poetics, and Mythopoetics As a Subheading in One Post

Honestly. I can't do it. But some tidbits to assist your further research:

A great deal of Hawaiian literature and oral tradition hinges on kaona, roughly "allusion" or "metaphor." In a description that is useful to precisely no one but myself, it's not unlike the complex plays on words, puns, and deep well of references used in Heian Japanese epistolary poetry. Some of it is easy to grok for newbies: for example, the concept of one's lover as a lei adorning the body, or being splashed or sprinkled with water as a euphemism for sex. Some of it goes a lot deeper, relying on historical or folkloric place-name associations, puns, and ancient practices and superstitions.

The Hawaiian "pantheon" I place in scare quotes because ancient Hawaiian religious practices and superstition were highly syncretic, often extremely localized, and more contradictory the more you read into it. In a very, very, very, VERY rough and off-the-cuff sense, though, there were thought to be four major gods: Kāne (associated with dawn, the sun, the sky, running freshwater, and irrigation-based agriculture, among other things), Kanaloa (associated with the ocean, sea creatures, and sometimes death, as an opposing or complimentary force to Kāne), Lono (god of fertility, agriculture with something of an emphasis on dryland agriculture, rainfall, and peace as embodied in the Makahiki festival), and Kū (god of war, the deified kingship, fishermen, sorcery, and quite honestly a ton of other things in various manifestations).

There were also quite a large number of "lesser" gods, the word "lesser" used just in the sense that they weren't honored to the same extent as the four previously named in state-sanctioned religious practice. Probably the most well-known of these is Pele, the volcano goddess. (I reference another in the fic, Niolopua, god of sleep—but the jury's out on whether or not that refers to an actual god or is just metaphorical in the same way that most people think of "the Sandman" as a euphemism for sleep and not a literal guy who comes into your house and puts crusties in your eyes.)

The gods were thought to manifest in a variety of forms, called kino lau (literally "four hundred bodies"). You can think of this in the sense of "Lono takes on the shape of an albatross or a tropicbird to interact with mortals, while Kanaloa prefers to manifest as an octopus," and in stories kino lau are sometimes represented that way, but in practice it's less of a Greek myth-style practice of shapeshifting and more of an animistic religious belief. The kino lau in nature embody the god and in a metaphorical sense illustrate the interconnection between divine and earthly and the presence of the divine on earth.

(HUGE OVERSIMPLIFICATION. HUGE OVERSIMPLIFICATION. PLEASE DO MORE RESEARCH AND DO NOT TAKE ONE TUMBLR POST AT ITS WORD ON THIS.)

The Endless, in the fic, are very easy to loop into the concept of kino lau, because of their canonical universality. Danny appears as a shark (a symbol of chiefhood), a pueo, or Hawaiian owl (an 'aumakua, or ancestral guardian), a manu-o-Kū, or fairy tern (a bird associated with the god Kū, likely in his aspect as a god of fishermen, navigators, and wayfinders), a kalo plant (a staple crop of ancient Hawaiʻi, a kino lau of Kāne, and a symbol of duality and rebirth), and a snowcapped mountain (a sacred site considered kapu, or forbidden, to all but the highest chiefly individuals). Despair, meanwhile, appears as an ʻalae ʻula, or Hawaiian moorhen (another ʻaumakua, but also an animal whose cry was thought to foretell misfortune), a stingray (for her barbed tail), a hāpuʻu fern (in contrast to Dream's kalo, the hāpuʻu was considered a famine food), a lava flow and its first growths (acknowledging Pele as both a destroyer and a creator of land, just as Despair also embodies hope), and a number of other things meant to embody the devastation of Hawaiʻi (rats, feral pigs, and mosquitoes have decimated endemic birds and insects; the kiawe is an invasive plant species that forms dense, thorny, and difficult-to-destroy groves; light pollution affects behavior and migratory patterns of both avian and aquatic species).

All pretty simple, obviously!

Further Resources and Recs

Okay, so, obviously I'm not going to be able to explain every single reference in this fic in a single post, though I obviously tried my damnedest. In lieu of that, I'll offer some useful resources for further reading:

Stephen Trussel's Combined Hawaiian Dictionary is a fantastic resource for vocab that incorporates several major Hawaiian dictionaries in a straightforward (well, as straightforward as this gets) text-based web page. Ulukau also has a searchable interface, which is a little easier to interact with, but I like having the Trussel for reference.

Huapala is everyone's go-to for translations of Hawaiian lyrics. I've linked to it in the endnotes of the fic for readers interested in more on "Ka Ipo Lei Manu," but it's got nearly any ʻauana-style Hawaiian song you please, and if I recall correctly even a few traditional oli. Again, another slightly old-fashioned text-based site—but we all know how to use CMD + F in a page, do we not?

Native Books is awesome if you, like me, prefer reading things in print but would prefer not to feed your dollars into the maw of the Amazon beast. A lot of the lit on Hawaiʻi was printed either a long time ago or in very small releases and is now out-of-print and difficult to find even in libraries, so it rocks that there's an independent bookseller that specializes in getting those works to an audience in hard copy. @ NATIVE BOOKS PLEASE CONSIDER GETTING ROSS CORDY TO RE-PRINT THE RISE AND FALL OF THE OʻAHU KINGDOM THANK YOU SO MUCH. University of Hawaiʻi Press is also a good source for academic texts, although their website is...mm...difficult to navigate, and do be warned that they charge academic press prices.

In terms of who to read, you really can't go wrong with Mary Kawena Pukui, a Native Hawaiian scholar, author, composer, and educator whose work is the backbone of just, a fuckton of writing about Hawaiʻi, both academic and popular. Her book ʻŌlelo Noʻeau: Hawaiian Proverbs and Poetical Sayings is worth at least a skim just to get the feel of the Hawaiian mindset; it also contains a healthy dose of myth, folklore, and history in the explanations of the sayings. Absolutely adorably, I've found two books she edited that I read the absolute FUCK out of as a child available as PDFs through Ulukau: The Water of Kāne and Other Legends of the Hawaiian Islands and Hawaiʻi Island Legends: Pīkoi, Pele, and Others. Definitely worth a quick read if you want more on the myth side of things.

As a non-specialist, I've really enjoyed Patrick Vinton Kirch's writing on precontact Hawaiʻi. For a field archaeologist, his writing is both highly engaging and very respectful of the peoples he studies, and trust me, I do get my back up easily when it comes to white people writing about Other Cultures TM, so I'd posit it means something that he passes my sniff test. A Shark Going Inland is My Chief is a great overview of the history of the Hawaiian chiefdoms from the first settlement of the islands to immediately precontact, and Kuaʻāina Kahiko offers a bit of a closer look at everyday life in a specific locality in the islands (in this case, Kahikinui, Maui).

Kamehameha and His Warrior Kekūhaupiʻo by Stephen Desha (trans. Frances N. Frazier) began its life as a serialized Hawaiian-language history of the rise of Kamehameha I. It's a dense read, and it WILL test your ability to remember who the hell all these people are to its limit—it mostly discusses the lives and times of the major players of the aliʻi class in the late precontact–early postcontact era, and when you remember that a) a hell of a lot of personal names in this tale begin with the letter K and b) the aliʻi class of Hawaiʻi practiced a mindboggling amount of political marriage, consanguineous marriage, and sanctioned adoption between blood relatives, the family trees get real complicated REAL fast. If you can hang on through all that, though, it's an intensely detailed and very vivid portrait of a culture at a tumultuous moment, it gives a great sense of how the Hawaiians viewed themselves and the world, and it's an interesting exercise in the mythologizing of the Kamehameha dynasty.

Okay, So...?

So...if you hung on through all that, god DAMN are you dedicated. Have what is quite possibly my favorite Hawaiian song for your trouble. It is, funnily enough, about a bird.

EDIT: I am retroactively making this post unrebloggable. I'm really, really glad folks have found it interesting and are looking into the resources I shared, but I absolutely do not want this getting passed around as Hawaiian Culture 101. If you want to learn more about Hawaiʻi, I must stress that you should look to a reputable source and not some schmuck on Tumblr rambling about her effortposting fanned fiction.

[preciouslandmermaid]

| costumes | carmy x reader

Note: All kinktober content is mature/explicit. Fics will be posted on Tumblr first, then transition over to ao3. All fics will be reader/canon-character with no use of Y/N. I will do my best to include additional warnings, but most should be self explanatory in the prompts.

prompt: Masks/Costumed Sex | pairing: Carmy Berzatto/f!reader | warnings: explicit sexual content. (+unstated but reader is on birth control/creampie)

Bonus Note: Took a while for me to figure out what costume’s everyone was gonna wear. Now we are here. This fic is set in the future/post-canon. Established relationship between Reader/Carmy. I’m sorry Carmy couldn’t be more dressed up/wearing an actual mask. He just…he’s not that GUY, you know? Also, yes, this is a NGHYB Universe Fic. 

The Bear signed up to be one of the many businesses that handed out Halloween candy for kids. Your bakery didn’t join simply because you were already swamped with orders of cakes that looked like spiders and ghoulish cupcakes. Now, Carmy didn’t tell his people to dress up, but you can already see from a distance that Richie is in costume. He’s wearing a brown jumpsuit and what appears to be a vacuum strapped onto his back.

You grin, approaching him from across the street, “Ghostbusters, Richie? Really?”

“Uh.” Richie looks at you like you’ve just said the stupidest question in the world, “Yeah, duh.”

The candy table’s cheap and flimsy orange plastic tablecloth flutters in the crisp, autumnal wind. A cursory glance reveals that there’s a QR code to learn about their menu along with a sign-up sheet for emails. Your grin widens. This has to be Syd’s handiwork. The cooler of neon-green liquid, however, is clearly Carmy’s with a hand drawn sign that says ‘Ecto-Cooler’.

“Also, you can’t say shit about my costume.” Richie says, brimming with annoyance, “What are you? A fucking cat?”

“What gave it away?” You ask sarcastically, “The drawn-on whiskers or the ears?” You tug on the hem of your black turtleneck. A little low-effort compared to Richie’s—but you worked with what you had in short notice.

“Neither.” His grin is quick and sardonic, “You’ve got a cat-like attitude about you.”

“Your meaning?” You can already guess where Richie is going with this. He’s either going to call you a pussy, and throw Carmy’s name in there, or call you high maintenance.  

Fak exits the Bear with a fistful of glowsticks, “Don’t listen to him.” He’s wearing a stringy, two-dollar black wig that keeps getting into his eyes, a white t-shirt under a black vest, and a red sweater tied around his waist. Another 80’s movie character. You can’t help but wonder what Carmy’s wearing.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” Richie shouts, “You’re just being a little bitch ‘cuz I didn’t wanna dress up as Bill.”

“I am not!” Fak says while cracking glowsticks and taping them to the Bear’s doorframe. “It is a little weird to be dressed as Ted without Bill though, you know.”

Richie laughs, “Oh my God!” He gestures at Fak with a flat hand, “Here we go again! See?!”

You use this opportunity of their bickering to slip around the back and head into the Bear through the backdoor.

You find Carmy in his office, bathed in the warm orange-light, and you stop a little short in your tracks. He’s got…product in his hair…and slicked it back away from his face, shiny and clean. His jeans are cuffed at the bottom and a rumpled, red windbreaker with the collar popped hugs his frame. His head is bent over—what you assume is an invoice—while his outstretch hand scribbles notes onto a large yellow legal-pad of paper.

You search your brain for classic 80’s movies based on Richie and Fak’s costumes. You think your presumption is wrong, but you try for it anyway.

“Hmm.” You clear your throat and Carmy looks up, “Marty McFly?”

His eyebrows leap in surprise, “James Dean.”  At your blank expression, he adds, "In rebel without a cause."

“Carmy!” You laugh, “There’s no way any of the kids are gonna know that.” You drop yourself onto his lap, winding your arms around his neck, and press a quick and affectionate kiss to his temple. You catch the corner of his soft, quiet smile with your mouth.

In the months of dating, Carmy has softened. He’s a little more eager to let you in, to share his troubles, or apologize in the moments when he’s being non-communicative. Now, you’re not exactly Girlfriend-of-the-Year, either. But you’re figuring it out together, navigating the landmines of past trauma and stumbling your way into building something with strong, foundational roots.

His warm palm slides up the slit of your long, black, and flowing skirt and caresses your thigh. You realize offhandedly that you had instinctively shut the door when you came in. Your lips meet his and gladly open for the stroke and playful tease of his tongue. You resist the urge to run your fingers through his hair—not wanting to ruin the obvious effort he put in—and you settle for clutching the stiff, red collar of his windbreaker.

His office chair squeaks beneath your combined weight, Carmy leans back, nudging your legs apart so you’re sitting with his thigh wedged between them, and your toes touching the floor. His lips move to your jaw, suckling sweetly, and your spine arches with a familiar, heady sensation traveling to your core.

“Carmy, we’re gonna have kids outside in like thirty minutes.” You remind him.

Your hand comes to his throat, just under his jaw, and feels his strong pulse beneath the pads of your fingers.

He huffs, chuckling against your wet skin, “Don’t be too loud then.” He teases.

His hands come to settle on your ass. He pulls you closer, then pushes back, wordlessly guiding you to grind on his leg. You sigh happily and let your eyes roll back. Carmy’s lips on your neck, hands on your waist, and your cunt rubbing against the rough fabric of his jeans—separated only by the thin fabric of your underwear and the even-thinner fabric of your skirt. Once your grinding against him, he shoves both his hands up your shirt, and bunches the fabric above your breasts. A trail of goosebumps rise in the wake of his palms, touching the cool air of his office, and contrasted warmth of his hands.

He tugs the cup of your bra down and laves his tongue across your nipple. You catch a whine in your throat. You might’ve closed the door, but you don’t think it’s locked.

He breathes against you, “Yeah?” His tongue flicks over your erect, pebbled nipple and gently tugs it between his teeth. The action sends a firework of sparks along your skin and your knuckles flare in the tense grip around his shoulders.

“Mhm.” With your verbal encouragement, he repeats the ministration on your other nipple, leaving the other to prickle with the cool air mixed with Carmy’s saliva. You push your hand between your bodies, sliding down Carmy’s pristine white shirt, and palm the front of his jeans. His hard, straining cock twitches against your hand. He makes a desperate, filthy noise in the back of his throat.

You love him so goddamn much it makes your entire body shudder. You capture his mouth, panting against his tongue and teeth, close to coming just through grinding like a teenager at a drive-in movie. You continue to cup and caress his cock through the tight, rough fabric of his jeans, and Carmy willingly spreads his legs wider—even though space is limited on his squeaky, metal office chair. It’s enough to make you dizzy.

“Carmy,” You gasp with pure want. “I need you inside me right fucking now.”

He doesn’t even balk at your demanding, needy tone. Secretly, you think he might like it with how he’s able to unravel your control and composure. You disentangle from the seat and collect the long skirt, bunching the flowing fabric around your hips, and Carmy’s makes a short, strangled noise as you bend over his desk.

You glance over your shoulder and see that he’s removing the red windbreaker. He notices your raised eyebrow.

“It’s vintage.” He explains quickly while hanging it on the door.

You snort and roll your eyes, “Of course it is.”

Carmy’s hands rest on your waist and he squeezes your ass tenderly, “Ready for me?”

“God, yes, please.” You rasp, “Hurry.”

There’s a rustle of fabric, your underwear is pushed to the side, and Carmy’s breath hitches—somewhere between a gasp and a groan—his finger grazes across your slick folds. You nearly snap at him again, beg him to hurry up, to fill you but then the tip of Carmy’s cock is right where you need him. He pushes into you slowly. You choke on your moan. Your hands clutching nothing but boring paperwork on his desk. The papers crumple beneath your palms when Carmy draws out, the ridges of the head of his cock rubbing deliciously along your walls, before he slams back into your cunt.

“Fuck!” You suddenly shout.

Carmy laughs, “Shh!”

He fucks you with singular, focused purpose. His hands hold your hips, your legs spread wide, as his cock pounds into you. You can feel the soft, faint touch of his balls when he buries himself deep and then pulls out. His breathing is hoarse and erratic. Each stroke is driving you close to madness and provoking hushed, pleased mewls from your bitten lips. You rock and thrust against him, your ass hitting his pelvis, making his cock hit something deep and primal inside your cunt. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the tiny, quiet office combined with his restrained, depraved grunts.

His hand slides between your legs and finds your slick and swollen clit, “Mm- fuck.” He says lowly. He plays with you, his index and middle fingers moving in a rapid concentric motion, sending your heartrate into overdrive. You collapse, unable to hold yourself upright, and pillow your head onto your arms.

For a lucid moment—you consider how you look and how someone would see you if they happened to walk in. Your shirt is still bunched up over your collarbones, your tits spilled out from your bra and rubbing against the bills and invoices, your skirt rucked up around your waist while your boyfriend ploughs into you over his desk. It’s like a scene from a porn flick.

You glance over your shoulder and discover Carmy lost in the throes of passion. His face cherry-red and sweaty, the lower muscles of his abdomen flexing (when did he toss his shirt? Is it vintage too?), his lower lip trapped beneath his teeth as he holds back his moans. That’s what sends you over the edge. Carmy, all hot and bothered, burying himself into you as if he’ll die if he doesn’t.

Your entire face scrunches as your orgasm hits and tears spring to your eyes. Your legs tremble and you’re grateful for the stability of the desk under you. Your walls clench around Carmy’s cock, tight and pulsing, and his thrusts stutter. He sheathes himself deep into you and comes with one of his hands clamped over his mouth. You press your lips together, swallowing your own cry of release and pleasure, especially after feeling him come inside you and feeling how his cock swells and twitches inside you.

“Fuck.” Carmy sighs languidly.

You fix your top with a smile, “Yeah, you said it.” You shove a few tissues in your underwear to stop his cum from leaking out before you can reach the bathroom and adjust your skirt. “Meet you outside in a few?”

Carmy blinks, as if in a daze, and your heart flips at his Just-Fucked expression. You lean over, kissing his cheek, because you can’t resist not showering him in physical affection. That helps him snap out of it and his smile is brighter than Rockefeller Center at Christmas.

“Y-y-eah,” He swallows, “Take your time.”

Before you can leave, however, he grabs your elbow and kisses you. It’s a slow and gentle kiss—sweet as rain during a drought—and he mutters a quiet, “Love you, “ on your lips.

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

Richie looks at you and his grin widens dangerously. “You’re missing a few whiskers, kitten.”

You check your reflection the Bear’s window and grimace at the smudged whiskers and your clumped mascara. “Shut the fuck up, Richie.”

For good measure, you throw a Snickers at him, and it hits him square in the chest.

-------------

TAG LIST: I’m sorry, I forgot to tag people LMAO - 10/20/22

@wittyno  // @comfortwaterbottle // @guyfieriii // @thebearinmind

@lafantasiaworld  // @imreadingrespectfully // @jotarosasscheek // @buzzfrill // @man-johnnie // @reesespieces10123 // @a-wake-and-unafraid //  ))  

[milfygerard]

found the manga magazine cover that gerard was holding in this picture. It went by both MangasZene and MangaZone It looks like a majority senin/josei fan magazine, with some focus on shojou and and shonen. According to the translated wiki page (below), It also was one of the earlier european manga/anime magazines to focus more generally on japanese youth culture outside of manga or animation, including fashion music and video games. It also had a strong fan driven bend, as a few of the covers and centerfolds seem to be fanart, and the mag had fan letters, fanfiction, and dojinshi involved as sections in the comics (more info under the cut)

Common inclusions mentioned are clamp (xxxholic and chobits both appeared on covers either by name or in the cover art) ghost in the shell, a manga I dont know called the geisha (or "die geisha" in german), and Nana amongst others. Gerard almost definitely bought this because it had a cool goth girl with a fuckass bob and huge boots on the front curled up next to an androgynous probably-vapire-maybe-dude character with VAMPIRE in all caps printed directly next to them. I know his ass can't read german.

I haven't been able to find any scans of the inside or any articles outside of the front cover centerfolds and occasionally the fist page of ads. This post is also just a quick and cursory few google searches, so maybe I'll find more info if I keep digging.

Here you can find the original german language wikipedia article which discusses mangasZene (rough google translate english translation below the cut, but I can't confirm its complete accuracy as i know zero german)

Here are high quality cover scans for seemingly every issue on an auction site called lastdodo

If you want to send me money so I can bid on and buy a copy of the german language japanese culture magazine that gerard way read once in 2005 so I can do a youtube video reading and discussing it donate to my buy me a coffee

MangasZene was a German-language specialist magazine for anime (Japanese animation) and manga (Japanese comics), which appeared regularly from 2001 to 2006 and was discontinued after another special issue in autumn 2007.

MangasZene was founded by former editorial staff of the anime and manga magazine AnimaniA. The first two issues from January 2001 and March 2001 were still published as MangaZone before the title had to be changed for naming reasons.[1] When it was founded, MangasZene was the first German-language magazine that went beyond concentrating on Japanese comics and cartoons and also shed light on Japanese youth culture as a whole. In addition to anime and manga reviews, it offered reports on games and Japanese music and lifestyle. In addition, the reader should be given the opportunity to contribute and help shape the magazine through discussion corners, letters to the editor, fan gallery, dōjinshi and fanfiction corner and the opportunity to write guest contributions.

At the end of 2006, the publication of the magazine, which had been published every two months, was abandoned in favor of the plan to publish special issues limited to a specific topic at irregular intervals, each with an adjusted size, price and circulation. However, this was only realized with a special issue about Yuri and Yaoi in September 2007. In October 2007, insolvency proceedings were opened at the district court in Cologne against the publisher Erbschläger & Holzer. According to a statement from the editor-in-chief, further publications by the MangasZene in printed form are no longer planned.[2]

Other editorial activities The MangasZene editorial team has also organized the “Bonenkai” anime convention several times (2001 in Karlsruhe, 2002 in Leverkusen, 2004 and 2006 in Neustadt an der Weinstrasse). At the end of 2002, the DVD label Anime House was launched. Since this label no longer belonged to the Erbstosser & Holzer publishing house, it was not affected by the insolvency proceedings. Sources Burkhard Ihme (ed.): Comic! Yearbook 2008. Comic Interest Group ICOM, 2008, ISBN 978-3-88834-938-6, foreword (comic-i.com – quote: “A circulation of at least 15,000 copies is reached by the MANGASZENE, but only appears regularly with themed issues."). Statement of the editor-in-chief on the bankruptcy proceedings on December 9, 2007 in the MangasZene forum

[skylermadness]

A Bond Forged in Steel (Zeke Von Genbu and Rex (Future Redeemed) TF)

(Original Date of Upload: March 25, 2024)

Original Description:

Story commission. This story was honestly extremely fun to write out! I've been wanting to do TFs of Zeke and Rex's Future Redeemed incarnation for a very long time, so being able to do so and be given to play with some homoeroticism is honestly quite the bargain for me. Plus, I mean, they're both extremely hot. Although this is definitely my first time doing a double TF/MG. Most doubles I've done had both characters be practically completely different in body types and whatnot so this was definitely a first time for me! Overall I'm really happy with the outcome and hope I get more chances to do stuff like this again! ...I still crave Xenoblade men TF. There needs to be more. Rated Mature for nudity, bulge, and mild sexual themes.

   Anniversaries have always been an interesting day for some couples. Certain compulsions arising on varying ends of the relationship for one person to show the other just how much they care. In the end it meant ensuring a rather fulfilling experience for everyone involved. Unfortunately it can quickly devolve into a stressful time as the all-important date approaches for the couple in question.

   So Zack was rather lucky that he didn't have to deal with that stress. In truth, the current day that was today is his anniversary with his boyfriend Nathan. Their romantic relationship has been going on for exactly a year now and Zack had wanted to commemorate the occasion with something special. A surprise gift for the person he loved, and one that he knew Nathan would adore…

   It was actually a week ago that he had the initial thought for this idea. Considering that his boyfriend was quite the fanatic for the Xenoblade Chronicles series of games, Zack had wanted to find a gift that would align with that particular interest. At first his search was rather fruitless, being mostly varying assortments of fairly pricey figurines or small custom trinkets that while looking pretty didn't feel like they'd convey his care as much as he would want them to. In the end it wasn't until just three or so days ago that he had finally found just what he truly needed.

   Life-sized weapon replicas.

   It was a weird find to say the least, alongside being oddly coincidental since they were being sold at a cosplay shop near where they shared an apartment were a menagerie of (presumably) plastic prop weapons for varying characters from the game series. While the more iconic weapons such as Shulk’s Monado and Noah’s Sword could be found in its stock, Zack had been more focused on finding proper recreations of the swords owned by the favorite characters of his significant other. 

   As he thought that he had seemed to ride off the same stroke of luck that brought him to this store’s website in the first place. With just a bit of scrolling he ended up finding the exact swords he was looking for being listed. Those being Zeke Von Genbu and Pandoria’s shared Big Bang Edge greatsword, and the Firelight Swords that Rex wielded in the 3rd game’s Future Redeemed expansion. All three of which seemed to only go for twenty five dollars each. 

   With that price calculation being a measly seventy five dollars total it didn't take long for Zack to set up a reservation to buy them in person. That's where he was today, the young man standing outside the store whose site he visited just mere days earlier: Maurice’s Exceptional Cosplay Collectibles.

   Seeing as he was here with a purpose Zack was quick to push open the door and walked into the shop, a bell above the entrance signaling his arrival. A cursory glance around the shop seemed to prove only one other person was inside with him. A relatively older-looking, balding and bearded man that was behind the store’s counter. Said counter also seemed to have three objects set atop it that could instantly be recognized as the swords the younger man had reserved.

   “Ah, take it yer that Zack fellow?” the older man, Maurice, inquired upon noticing the other’s entrance. “Didn’ anticipate you comin’ this early. Was just gettin’ ready to bag yer stuff!”

   Zack gave the storekeeper a casual wave as he walked towards the counter. “Yep, that would be me! Ended up wanting to get the stuff early. I guess the thought of my boyfriend’s reaction upon seeing these spurred me to come as quickly as I could.”

   Maurice smiled and nodded. “Gift for a loved one, eh? Seein’ as yer here you could take a look at yer order as I find a bag large enough to hold ‘em all.”

   “Sounds good!” Zack gave a thumbs up. Now that he was properly at the counter he could get a proper look at these objects in person…

   It was astonishing just how accurate the three replicas seemed to be. The sheer size of them was almost to the scale of the scenes he had seen in the games. The massive and wide broadsword of the Big Bang Edge, its rectangular pommel adorned with lightning bolt-shaped formations jutting from its sides. The Firelight Swords looked like the Aegis blades but still possessed clear differences to them that made it seem like they looked to be two halves of one blade. It all made Zack impressed, and he was rather glad to have gotten a chance to buy them all for a rather cheap price. Especially with how high quality they all seemed!

   While the young man had gawked at the replicas, Maurice had spent his time placing a good few plastic bags into each other so the blades wouldn't tear through everything. “Should consider requestin’ people bring their own bags for this stuff-” he muttered to himself. Though once all the bags were prepared he turned back to the counter. “Everything looks good to ya?”

   “Yep!” Zack responded enthusiastically. “I just wonder how you managed to create such life-like recreations…”

   Maurice let out a low chuckle as he placed each sword into the bag. “Trade secret, kid~”

   He then placed the bagged-up blades onto the counter. “Feel free to skedaddle now. Hope yer boyfriend loves these things!”

   “I’m absolutely sure he will!” Zack said with a smile. He hoisted the bag around his shoulder, wobbling a bit at the realization of how weighty these things seemed to feel. “Oh these are a little heavier than I expected too…”

   With the transaction now completed, the young man made his way out of the store with the objects in tow. All the while the storekeeper smiled a very knowing smile.

                                        ----------------------------------------------------------

   Having managed to net himself a day off from work, Nathan had spent much of the morning at his and his boyfriend’s shared apartment finishing up whatever JRPG of the month he was on while waiting for Zack to come back home. He wasn't initially aware that the other man was going to be leaving, nor did he really know where they had gone. His boyfriend just gave him a casual ‘I’m heading out for a bit!’ and left before he had a chance to ask anything. That was roughly an hour ago though.

   Now the time was hovering close to noon and Nathan’s gaming excursion was interrupted by the sound of the apartment’s front door opening. Pausing his game, he looked over to the entrance to find Zack struggling with hauling what seemed to be three swords in a bag on his back.

   “Could I get some help here-” Zack strainly asked, prompting Nathan to get up from the couch and help him out.

   “Christ, man, what the hell were you up to out there!?” Nathan inquired. He let Zack lean on him for a little bit as the other man steadily shifted the bag off of their shoulder.

   “This!” was Zack’s only response as the bag collapsed onto the ground, a chorus of metal clangs reverberating from it as it fell.

   “Wha…” Nathan's gaze wandered to look at the contents of Zack’s bag. While had initially noticed while his boyfriend was walking in that it was some kind of collection of swords, the moment his eyes laid onto them he realized just what kind of swords they were.

   “X-Xenoblade merch!?” he exclaimed. “Not just that but, such real looking blade replicas…”

   He went to pick up one of the objects, the red blade that was one half of Rex’s Firelight Swords. He struggled a bit to just pick it up with one hand. He surmised it was because of the metallic make of them based on how the blade’s grip felt in his hand. An assumption that was instantly confirmed once he held the blade out in front of him.

   “Did you go to some kind of metal workshop for this!? This looks like an actual sword!”

   “No, I got them from some kind of cosplay store in the inner city,” Zack responded. He curiously picked up one of two remaining blades, this time the Big Bang Edge. Although considering its size he had to use both hands instead of just one. “I-I could've sworn these were plastic when I bought them though!” he nervously stated. “No way a bunch of real swords would go for seventy five dollars total, y'know?”

   “I’m just going to state it outright,” Nathan hauled up the white and gold Firelight Sword out of the bag with the other hand. “I think you bought three real ass swords. Although the fact you got actual realistic replicas of some Xenoblade objects is so…” he fixed his gaze at the two swords he was holding. “Astonishing.”

   “I take it you like them?” Zack said with a hopeful smile.

   “Like them? I love them! I don't know where I'd put them all but, between the realistic appearance and the sheer accuracy and-” he was about to go on a tangent, but he began to feel something off the longer he held onto both sword grips. “How recently forged were these? They still feel a little hot…”

   “What?” Zack raised a brow. He then started to hear a low, almost inaudible crackling noise from his own blade. Looking down at it, he found that his own sword was sparking somehow. Small bolts of electricity escaping and spiraling around the blade in some mesmerizing dance. “Woah, dude, do you see this?”

   “Uh, I think you should maybe put that down-”

   “Yeah, that'd probably be a good-”

   Zack didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as the sparks of electricity promptly emanated from the weapon's hilt and in just one second shocked both hands that were gripped onto it. With a yelp of pain the young man unhanded the blade and let it collapse unceremoniously on the ground. “C-crap-”

   A look of concern formed on Nathan’s face. “Are you okay!?”

   “I…” Zack began formulating a response, but stopped as he looked down at his hands.

   A feeling of pins and needles coursed through both of Zack’s hands. A sensation that could only be equated to feeling like touching television static. And the longer that sensation remained the more a strange series of changes began to ensue in each hand. One of the most noticeable changes came in the form of their size altering, growing in front of his very eyes. Swelling out to become larger and thicker, quickly becoming a far cry from their previously smaller appearance. It was as if their bone structure and muscle mass was just increasing in size, improving almost. This would become quite prevalent when it came to his fingers. Each one plumped up and thickened, further granting his hands a more powerful appearance. 

   “Uhhh…” the young man vocalized as he watched everything unfold. His gaze was then brought to his arms as he felt a weird swelling sensation within them.

   Thanks to the shorter sleeves of his shirt Zack was also granted quite the view of his transforming limbs. Much like with his hands the forearm region of each arm began to rapidly accumulate muscle mass. Quickly did they swell thicker, the once thin form of them being consumed by the burgeoning appearance of raw strength. As muscles grew they only became more tangible, creases forming in his skin over where muscle groups would divide. It was almost as if the young man was being granted some kind of instantaneous appearance of years of working out and improving his muscles.

   His upper arms weren't being left unscathed either. While the extensors in his forearms expanded, the muscle groups above his elbows were quick to follow. He could feel his sleeves begin to constrict as the diameter of the region increased in size. A low heat and a sensation of static buzzed through his sensory nerves as his upper arms bulked up, once non-existent biceps burgeoning with raw power while his triceps matured alongside them. Fabric would only continue stretching over his shoulders as his deltoids were developed greatly in size, rounding out and perfectly indenting themselves into the article of clothing.

   Zack had been left rather awestruck. Despite the strange feeling coursing through his muscles, he could tell just how raw the strength within them seemed to feel. He couldn't deny the uncanny feeling of the situation though. Managing to break out of his stunned daze the young man could only say, “N-Nathan, I don't know what's happening-”

   Nathan had been watching the start of Zack’s transformation, a worried look having formed on his face. He didn't know what was happening either, especially since people just don't spontaneously become muscular! But he was having trouble trying to come up with anything calming. This situation was proving itself to be complicated from the get-go.

   Nathan then realized just how hot the blades he was holding were getting. For just a second he moved his focus away from his boyfriend and onto the white and gold sword of the pair, and that’s when he caught that it seemed to be glowing. Out of a mixture of surprise and a feeling that he couldn't for too long hold two objects that felt like they were becoming as hot as a stovetop, he had quickly dropped the Firelight Swords before anything could happen. It would seem it was already too late for him though and a burning heat entered his core forcing Nathan to grunt as he clenched his chest. 

   “Fuck-” was the only word he could spit out. In his mind though he was already connecting the dots. Was he about to start to change as well?!

   It would only take a few seconds for the answer of that question to arise. Whereas Zack’s transformation had started in his hands, Nathan’s seemed to begin in his chest. As heat welled up in his core he could feel a sensation of swelling within his pectoral region. This was proven to be caused by his chest garnering definition of its own. Nathan had been a fairly skinny guy since the man had not really been one to do much in working on his muscles. However as seconds continued to pass his once relatively flat chest expanded outwards. Pecs were rapidly forming and pushing forward becoming thicker, larger than they had ever been previously. The best way to describe them were two meaty slabs that had risen from his chest. This new development in his musculature also formed a crevice between the two pectorals. This perfectly defined cleavage had easily indented itself into the fabric of his polo shirt, as did the muscles themselves.

   If that wasn't enough he could also feel a churning sensation in his abdominal region. This was being caused by even more muscles developing within the man. His tummy, once only flat with an average amount of fat for a young adult layered on it, was becoming just as chiseled and defined as his chest. Ridges indented into his skin as a set of abs just pushed outwards. Any initial bagginess of his shirt would be dispelled in an instant as these muscles enhanced themselves and further made their presence known by indenting into the fabric more and more. Gone would be the skinny torso of an average man, now replaced by a more brawnier appearance. That wasn't the end for Nathan’s changes either as he felt a pressure wrack his spine, soon followed by the sensation that his body being tugged upwards. The hem of his shirt was rising as a result of this, revealing a light dusting of hair beginning to make its way up the middle of his lower abdominal region.

   Nathan let out another grunt as he forced himself to stand up straight. A hand still clenched over his chest as the heat continually poured across his form. He could practically feel the upper portion of his shirt sleeves begin to constrict. “We- we both are becoming so… muscular, it seems…”

   “Y-yeah,” Zack strained out. He still felt a bit stunned, and the sight of his boyfriend growing such a massive shelf had been a little concerning. But at the same kind he couldn't hide his blushing at just how big Nathan’s pecs seemed to have gotten now. It made him a little bit envious.

   Of course as Zack feels that emotion he begins to feel a tinge in his own chest. He took his gaze off Nathan and forced his head downward, and instantly he was greeted with the sight of his own pectorals pressing up on his shirt by just a bit. They only seemed to continue as well by pressing forward more, developing their own proper thickness that seemed to get more prominent as his body seemed to broaden. The young man could only watch in awe as his pec muscles inched forward and continued to swell and round out into perfect slabs themselves that just forced the shirt he wore to stretch over and outline their perfect physique. He had even gotten his own cleavage indent within the fabric too.

   The lower half of his torso wouldn't be left out from these changes either. He could just barely see his abdominal region bubble as he was granted the sight of his own abs advancing in musculature. His abs would sculpt themselves out of his relatively unimpressive form and etch ridges into his skin to properly divide the muscle groups. All the while he was privy to the sight of a six pack set of abs miraculously manifesting from his body and replacing his once twinkish nature.

   The spontaneous muscle growth in Nathan had seemed to be in the process of shifting to match Zack’s. As Zack was fixated on his torso, Nathan’s eyes had been brought over to his arms. Unlike his boyfriend Nathan had been wearing a long-sleeved shirt, so he wasn't initially granted the perfect view of his bulking arms. But with the passing of time he would still be given the sight of something.

   The best way to describe the way his arms changed was it felt akin to watching a balloon get pumped with a constant flow of air. Each limb was effectively pumped with muscle at a smooth and steady rate. It was a rather majestic sight just watching his shoulders broaden with perfectly developed deltoids, or seeing his biceps and triceps swell up into rounded cantaloupes. All while the material of his sleeves tried their best to hang on and contain his constantly growing muscle mass. But not even they could handle his thick upper arm muscles and it didn't take long for him to see his shirt sleeves tear over his biceps. 

   His forearms had been enduring the same changes concurrently as well. Bulking up with raw muscle to such a point that he could the crevices through the fabric of his sleeves. Just the raw definition of it all was enough to overwhelm him more than the heat in his heart was doing. Such perfect form that almost felt like it belonged to someone who spent ages working hard to get their muscles to this size.

   That process of thoughts had even seemed to be proven as his hands grew. Rapidly increasing in size to match his massive proportions, swelling to be larger and thicker. Just a raw sense of strength that exuded from each growing hand as if they had the ability to punch straight through a wall. An idea that could be further supported by his slightly chunkier fingers, the digits needing to have grown as well to accommodate his new hand size. But what really got him was the tingling in his palms, the sensation in his clenched hand as he felt the skin upon it seem to almost harden a bit. As if despite the almost pristine condition of them there was still a certain amount of age that had to be added to his hands. Age that would manifest in wear and tear, something that could easily come in the form of callusing of the skin.

   His limbs seemed to have been dealt with now. This had meant that Nathan and Zack were on equal terms physically for the time being. Although as Nathan looks over towards Zack he can tell the other man still seemed a bit smaller in comparison to him. He could also see a strange look of poorly hidden embarrassment on the other’s face as well. A look that Nathan knew all too well…

   “A-are you enjoying this!?” Nathan inquired.

   The sudden outburst made Zack yelp. “I-I- maybe!? I'm just…” the young man shakily brought a hand to his chest, a chorus of rips echoing through the air from his short sleeves as he did so. “Muscle…”

   Nathan blinked a few times. He couldn't deny himself that the sudden growth in muscle was rather appealing… but this was all so weird! He can't just let that strangeness slide-

   “H-hey, wait… can you say something…?” Zack had suddenly asked out of the blue.

   “Eh?” Nathan raised a brow. “Why would you- w-wait, my-”

   His voice. He could hear his voice cracking at random intervals, and each time it did so it had seemingly gotten deeper. Even weirder was that it was altering beyond that in varying degrees as well. It's tone, it's pitch, and was his accent shifting too!?

   Nathan looked straight at Zack, preparing himself to hear his voice again as he was about to verbally make a comment about it. His words were halted almost instantly in his throat however, mouth hanging open as he seemed fixated on something. Zack seemed to catch onto this though.

   “Why are you looking at me like that…?” Zack asked, oblivious. “Is something happening to my… face…”

   His statement trailed off as something silvery began entering his field of vision from above and continued growing downward more for a few seconds before stopping. This didn't seem to stop though as a few more bits of silver descended upon the leftward portion of his field of vision. But at this point he knew what it seemed to be, the young man bringing a hand up to his face to grasp onto a clump of this silvery growth.

   “My hair, it's growing… longer…?” Zack then unhanded the newly grown tufts of hair. However as he lowered his hand he too noticed something on his boyfriend’s face as well. “D-dude, I think your hair’s becoming a bit-” the statement is broken by a sudden caught before he continued, “-funky as well- o-oh crap…”

   As much as Nathan wanted to comment on Zack’s own voice changes, his curiosity got the better of him. He mustered just enough strength so he could move his currently unoccupied hand to the top of his head. There he found the feeling that his hair had gotten a little bit thicker, fuller than it had used to be. “What the hell…”

   “This just-” Zack cleared his throat to try in vain to dispel his own shifting voice. “This just keeps getting weirder!”

   Zack visibly cringed at the sound of his voice. How was it that in just a few seconds his voice had gone from being normal to sounding weirdly over the top!? It didn't sound deeper since it still sounded like one that could possibly belong to a young adult. However it was feeling like the tone of it was becoming more flamboyant.

   “Mmf, you’re telling me…” Nathan responded. His focus had gone back down to looking at his body. He had taken note that his polo continued to strain over his torso, and the placket of it was just being stretched out from his wider form. A moment of curiosity dictated his next action as he decided to inhale a deep breath, wincing a bit as it still felt like his heart was burning. But the action of his chest rising caused the shirt to begin splitting down the middle. He then exhaled from a sigh. That act alone seemed to be enough to start the steady dispelling of his weird heartburn at least…

   “Y-you do have a nice chest there, eheh…” Zack complimented. Nathan just rolled his eyes, although he couldn't stifle the blush he got from the compliment. Although come to think of it he was also beginning to feel something else strange welling up around the lower half of his body. That's when he noticed his pants were feeling a bit tighter now as well.

   This tightness was initially signified by the newfound constriction around his waist. However it only seemed to increase as he felt the now-familiar feeling of muscles growing thanks to the transformative effects having reached his legs. The denim of his jeans pressed tightly against his skin as he felt his thigh muscles swell up and bulge up. As was in the rest of his body a sizeable thickness was just constantly being added on to Nathan’s legs to the point the muscle ridges indented in the legwear’s material. The perfectly sculpted appearance of his hamstrings and quadriceps were becoming fully tangible through it all.

   Perhaps that wasn't the most interesting part though. That came with the sensation of his gluteus muscles growing out and the pure sensation of his briefs being filled up. The once perfectly fitting undergarments were quickly filled in the behind by his rear swelling up. Muscle bloating it up larger while fat rounded his ass out more. The size was becoming so prominent that the seat of his pants had ended up filling out as well. It didn't take long until Nathan developed a perfectly rounded rear end, a newly developed bubble butt straining the back of his pants and underwear.

   The front of him wasn't spared from this kind of change either judging by the sensation of the frontal area of his briefs straining against something. A new, much lower heat formed in Nathan’s cheeks as he felt a rather pleasuring sensation deep in his groin. A feeling that the components in that region were increasing in size like the rest of his body had done. He couldn't help but look down to witness it all himself: the sight of a growing mount forming at the front of his jeans, the odd sound of the zipper snapping to allow him to see the pristine white of his undergarments. That mound continued to form more and more as his member burgeoned in size. He had gotten a bulge, and it felt… euphoric in a way.

   He nervously looked up at Zack, hoping he could take his focus off his groin for a bit. Although he had instantly taken note of his boyfriend’s flustered state. Nathan guessed their transformations were mirrored in every way, it would seem.

   Concurrent with Nathan’s own transformation, Zack had found his own lower half swelling up as well. His shorts had typically hung off his rather skinny legs in a fairly standard way initially, but with the growth of his own thigh muscles it seemed that became a false statement. The proper fitting of his own legwear was dispelled, easily replaced with the same swelling of muscle mass that had been going on in his entire body. It didn't help that the material of his shorts seemed to not be the most durable which had made his ears privy to the sound of the seams ripping from the strain of his much more powerful muscles.

   Then came the changes to his own assets. The odd churning in Zack’s behind as he felt his rear bloat and swell. The constant sensation of the back of his legwear and undergarments straining against his increasingly larger ass. The fact he couldn't help but reach a hand down and behind himself to just feel the newly developing roundness of his rear from beneath his shorts. It was such a foreign feeling to the young man, especially since he always felt his butt was rather flat before all of this. So being able to experience this weird pressure that bloated his rear as it did his chest…

   Then there was the feeling of his groin shifting. That came with an emotion he couldn't suppress as well. He could already feel the blood rushing downwards as the nerves were stimulated by the sudden growth, the sudden feel of the easily satisfied skin suddenly pushing up against the cotton of his underwear and straining it. He just couldn't stop himself from using his other hand to just grab onto the swelling area. It just felt too erotic and it was taking all of his willpower not to just undo his shorts so he could let his own bulge hang out. He didn't though, what little desires of decency still remained in his now testosterone-ridden brain.

   “F… feeling good?” the deep, seemingly aged voice of Nathan calling from a few feet away. Zack couldn't help but deny how sexy that developing accent of his boyfriend’s was getting.

   “Nngh…” Zack failed to stifle a moan. “Yeah…”

   The remainder of the duo’s changes to their lower bodies happened in synchronicity. For Zack his lower legs were visible allowing the ballooning of his calves to be on full display. Meanwhile Nathan’s jeans were noticeably continuing to strain against his own growing calves, and the seams holding the jeans together finally started to become undone. It didn't take long for the thickness of each of their legs to reach an equalness to that of the rest of their bodies.

   The final portion of their lower bodies were the pair’s feet. This section of the transformation mirrored their hands, each foot growing out to be thicker and larger to fit their new bodily proportions. The toe caps of their shoes bulged with sets of bumps representing their increasingly chunkening toes. All the while the two of them could feel their heels dig into their footwear. The concurrency of their changes meant their shoes eventually started to rip apart at the same time, toecap steadily splitting off to allow the longer length of their feet to be freed. All the while the strings split apart against their newfound width. Both men’s shoes had become totalled by the end of these changes, allowing their feet to all be comfortable without being restricted by the confines of footwear.

   With the destruction of their shoes came even more destruction of their clothing. Nathan’s polo shirt was already getting pretty far in this as the shreds of its long sleeves hung off his arms while the torso section of it continued splitting apart against his massive muscles. The more his chest and abs became visible the more another, more minor change grew prominent. There was a formation of a light dusting of chest hair sprouting across his pecs, alongside a small trail of it running down the middle of his abs. The small amount of fuzz also seemed to have a grayish-brown tone to it that his hair hadn't usually possessed. 

   Meanwhile with Zack, the short sleeves of his shirt had split apart by this point. Long rips were tearing their way across the torso segment as well making his own muscled form increasingly visible. He also wasn't exempt from a weird addition to his chest either, although his was more unorthodox than Nathan’s had been. Visible from a rip that had formed over his right pectoral was a massive scar that etched itself into his flesh. Even stranger was the bright blue glow in the middle of the scar. Zack felt the sensation of something materialize and embed into his chest, which he quickly found out to be some kind of triangular-shaped gemstone.

   Nathan had watched the sight himself, and that was when everything finally clicked. “That gem…”

   “Wha…?”

   Nathan let his statement resonate a bit. The way his own voice was deepening, the Light Northern British accent that kept embedding into his speech, the purely aged and wisened tone of it all. The more he spoke the more he came to realize something about himself as well.

   “Nathan, you're looking like you realized something,” Zack spoke out. His own voice had seemed to be finally settling as well. The still over-the-top Southern England accept that resonates with his statements. It in itself was fairly distinct, recognizable.

   “Y-you haven't noticed it yet??” Nathan said, a bit dumbfounded. “The- the blades! They've been turnin’ us into their owners this whole time!”

   “...huh-” Zack looked down at his chest again. The crystal. Oh, oh. “Wait I'm becoming-”

   “Yeah.”

   “And you-”

   “Yep,” Nathan ended the chain with a nod.

   For a few seconds silence just hung in the air. Then Zack made a random comment: “I guess that'd explain why you're getting some facial hair…”

   Nathan raised a brow. “Eh?”

   With the heat in his chest finally gone he was able to more easily move himself around his little strain. He lifted up a hand to touch his chin and, unsurprisingly, grazed over a few hairs that had grown there. His fingers were even feeling more hairs grow in that region as well! From a secondary perspective it would appear that an amount of gray fuzz had sprouted from the base of his chin. It was fairly light at first, but as the seconds passed this newly developing chin stubble was growing to be a little thicker than just stubble. Facial hairs continued to grow out of his chin and developed a fairly average length. It wasn't long until the stubble appearance was now more of a thin patch of beard.

   That wasn't the only portion of his face that was changing either. While his small beard developed Nathan could feel a slight pressure extend across his skull. The shape of his skull was reconfigured into an almost rectangular appearance. Meanwhile his jawline felt like it was squeezed a little, and instead of squaring out the ends of it slanted diagonally a bit until its shape became a little more like a rounded triangle. All the while his facial features had been morphing alongside everything. The end of his nose became a little raised, the size of his eyes getting slightly larger, even his eyebrows seemed to thin out rather significantly. All the while it seemed a few wrinkles formed on his face, most noticeably beneath his eyes, which gave him a more aged appearance.The most drastic change came to his left eye however as in just a few seconds it was damaged to the point of losing sight and got scarred over. All of that forced Nathan to compulsively keep that eye shut.

   “That was sudden-” was the best reaction he could muster as he brought his hand up to graze the scar.

   The last part of his physical transformation came with his hair. It had already been in the process of changing just minutes prior, but now that was being sped up. The style constantly became thicker and fluffier as clumps were brought together to formulate a thick and spiky style. This spiky hairstyle continued to form as bits hung over his forehead, other bits jutted diagonally upwards on the sides and back of his head, and everything culminated with many of the spikes raising upwards on his head’s apex. Just a dense mass of spikes of hair rising from the top of his head in a neat, well-organized appearance. All the while the same grayish-brown that etched into the rest of his body hair was now forming in the hair on his head, rapidly overtaking it and fully replacing its previous color. The way his hair appeared in style and fluffiness at this point should be impossible to achieve, but here it was on his head.

   Zack’s own head has also been in the process of morphing all of this time as well. He didn't seem to develop any facial hair, but he did feel pressure wrack his own skull as his skull structure was forcibly shifted to fit his new body. While the upper portion of his skull became more equal and rounded, almost akin to a circle, his jawline slanted and chiseled triangle that blunted at his chin. His own features changed alongside this by having his eyes seem to thin a little, eyebrows thinning out a lot, and the width of his nose narrowing as the end of it rounded a bit. By the end it would seem his face gained a symmetrical visage that possessed an almost regal appearance.

   All that remained was the case of his hair which was now in the process of actively lengthening. As the almost metallic silver shine rose from the roots to overtake the follicle coloration, all of his hair just continued to grow longer. Bits of it hanging down and grazing his chin while other bits drifted around his ears. He could even feel portions of his hair touch the nape of his neck. It didn't seem to grow any longer than that though. It also didn't look to have that smooth of an appearance either as his own hair could be defined as spiky to some capacity. Long clumps just sticking out or curling at uneven intervals while a strange layering now seemed to exist in his hair. It too looked to be one impossible to attain hairstyle.

   With that their bodily changes were complete and the two were left just looking at each other. Two newly-minted brawny men in torn clothing, said men now looking like perfect copies of Zeke Von Genbu and Rex from Xenoblade Chronicles. To say they were utterly speechless right now was an understatement… then after a few seconds Zack just began to rip the tattered remains of his clothing off his body.

   “I am not just going to stand here in shards of my t-shirt!” Zack plainly stated, knowing his boyfriend was looking right at him. Nathan just watched before he too joined in the ripping off of what little remained of his more-than-ill-fitting clothing.

   As they both did that it seemed one final change was ensuing. Although in this case it was happening to their undergarments as for both of them did that article of clothing alter. Just barely growing in size but not enough to lose the prominent bulge, and the back of them shortening enough to reveal a bit of their bubble butts. All while the previous cottony material was hardened into nylon, and their previous colorations were rapidly shifted. For Zack the pure white was lost to a deep blue with gray geometric patterning on the sides, and for Nathan it became a dark gray with a bold blue X over front and back. It had seemed they both were wearing speedos now, and by the time they finished tearing off their clothes they took note of this fairly instantaneously.

   “Uhh, that's… different,” Nathan remarked. He honestly would've expected his clothing to have morphed into something else entirely but… this works, at least. Plus he could see Rex’s- or well, his massive muscles in all their heroic glory. Something about that thought made him feel his cheeks flush with red again. Especially since his gaze was moving up to his chest. Although he was broken out of this state pretty fast by Zack starting a conversation.

   “Zeke’s pretty built, isn't he?” Zack stated, flexing an arm and feeling just how firm the bicep had become. Despite how weird it all felt he could deny that something about all of this was hot!

   “I would've assumed you'd know that since you watched me play the second game,” Nathan responded. The now older-looking man then walked closer towards Zack, noticing that he was still at least an inch or two taller than the other man. “Although I think I'm the one that got a bit larger~”

   Nathan than flexed his own arms, knowing full well that Zack would ogle over them. In which yes, his boyfriend did end up doing so as his gaze was instantly drawn to the other’s thick muscles. Although he was a little taken aback that Zack had instantly come closer to actually start feeling them up.

   “Man, you're thick…” Zack complimented as he squeezed Nathan’s biceps. The statement itself sounded rather humorous as well since he had Zeke’s voice. “I think I might be a little jealous~”

   “Eh, don't be,” Nathan responded, his aged voice sounding so tender and caring. He brought a hand down onto Zack’s undamaged pectoral and gave it a nice, firm squeeze as well. “Your muscles are quite satisfying to feel too.”

   Nathan couldn't help but let out a deep chuckle as he say Zack blush. “O-oh really?”

   “Mhm…” Nathan nodded, beginning to inch his aged face closer to Zack’s still young adult one. “And I’d say you gave us both quite the spectacular surprise this anniversary.”

   Then, before Zack could even respond, Nathan pressed his lips up to Zack’s. An intense feeling of passion welled up between the two. Like their love for each other had been reaffirmed in some way. Even in different bodies from their own they were still absolutely irresistible to each other, and odds are taking on the form of two hot video games men just exacerbated that feeling by a hundred times. And the longer their mouths touched the more both men could feel their blood boiling and rushing through their bodies. They truly wanted each other more than ever…

   Then Nathan broke off the kiss, a playful smile forming on the man’s face. “Now how about I show you a thing or three in bed?” he practically purred in his accented voice.

   Zack, who was still blushing, let out a laugh. “Only if you call me the Bringer of Chaos there~”

   Nathan then wrapped his arms around Zack’s waist, bringing the other even closer to his body. “Anything for you, Zeke~”

   “Then how about we get going, Rex?”

   With those statements said the two men happily made their way to their bedroom, a very passionate anniversary having now been fully forged.

[8bitsupervillain]

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 2 Watanagashi pt. 11

Getting into the real nitty gritty about Watanagashi.

A quick summation of this part.

This part in addition to being an interesting interpretation of what words can mean is also funny to me because of how hard Keiichi is arguing that the curtains being blue doesn't mean anything. If you'll forgive the brief digression into basic literary discourse. Also I switched to the remake art style for a minute because I like the way Takano looks in that style better than the console art. Lack of different facial expressions notwithstanding.

Sort of curious how this looks with the remake/original backgrounds.

Does the anime show the ritual dance Rika does? Will the game itself later on?

Everything can be a cooking utensil if you're brave enough.

Truly one of the sentences of all time. Right up there with the components for chess would let you play chess, people die when they are killed, or I farted from my poop hole.

Dig into any country's history and you will find some extremely horrific stuff that was done. Every country always has some extremely vile and vicious things they've done. Guarantee regardless of where you live you could think of your own country's history and think of at least one atrocity that was committed.

Takano seems just a little too into this. This is just a few steps beyond scientific interest and is slowly veering into fetishizing the nightmare.

The what now? Incidentally I looked this up to see if there was anything like that in recorded history. The closest thing a cursory search brought up was the Chichijima Island incident where a group of American fighter pilots got captured in Japan and were tortured, killed, and cannibalized by some of the Japanese officers. One of the pilots who escaped the fate was future president George H.W. Bush. Can't say you never learned anything from me and my random let's play.

This sentence amuses me, because I've read about medieval torture museums so I don't doubt people have said sentences like that with genuine earnestness.

Well that's not a sentence that could get misinterpreted.

I get the feeling these lines will be reused in a much darker context before all's said and done.

The political angle of ritualistic murders and cannibalism.

Probably not the attitude one should have when discussing having found the corpse of a murder victim that has been burnt to a blackened husk. But then again I'm not a police detective so who knows.

[vergess]

An anonymous user asks:

hello, i was wondering if you could pass a message along to vee? if this is inappropriate to ask i am sorry, but I am honestly too embarrassed to ask any of the Jewish people in my life irl and I think you’re of an age you would understand the question. outside of the “possibly killed his girlfriend but also it might have been someone at the party the night before and so many drugs were involved thing” sid vicious wore… well you know the shirt. i grew up listening to the Sex Pistols and romanticizing the statement “knight in rusted armour” but as a risk of sounding terminally online is it problematic? asking from a place of good faith because you’re not going to sugar coat things but also aren’t going to get out the pitch forks unnecessarily

So! This is based on only my vague (like 1 hour research) understanding of him and his contributions to punk rather than as a guy who comes up a lot in pop culture, like in fanfiction and video games. That all in mind!

If you truly feel you deeply relate to his music, then there's no reason to stop listening to the stuff you already own or anythig drastic. But oh boy are some of the claims I'm reading about egregious.

The good news is, the are what's known as "shock jock" behaviour: controversy seeking rather than a genuine support. This is still very bad to do, don't engage in it. It creates safe environments for actual heartfelt nazis to grow their numbers.

But you have to remember, in the 1970s, it was Not Popular to be a nazi. Not like it is today. It was common enough that everyone sort of know a guy, sure. And antisemitism was getting really bad again in europe. But nazism? Specifically? It wasn't Cool. It was controversial.

Not like today. My goodness we live in the worst fucking timeline.

Whatever. Nazi symbolism was a quick way to cause a controversy back then, is the point.

Logically one can assume the same is true of, for example, writing a song about an extermination camp. Egregious yes, but egregious on purpose because the feelings of jews were not considered relevant compared to the controversy that it would cause.

But fucking shit though, some of this is hard to read about.

This is why it's so important as contemporary punk enjoyers to viciously push back against nazis co-opting the space.

So, in private and with regards to your personal emotions to the artworks? Go enjoy what you enjoy! You aren't hurting someone by privately listening to music.

But in public? As my GF put it, if I heard someone was like... hardcore into this man's work, like to the extent of attending cover band concerts for example? I would expect them to be vocally and passionately anti-nazi before I could trust them.

And, I totally see where someone who just knows the man off google search results would think of him as "guy who maybe killed his Jewish GF after writing songs about extermination camps."

To be clear, I agree that the most probable "suspect" was that someone had a really bad trip. Who? No one knows; everyone was high.

But I see why many Jewish people would be uncomfortable with him, based on a cursory understanding of the situation.

Which is why, if you take your appreciation for his work from private to public, you must. MUST! Be 100% ready to do whatever it takes to keep nazis out of punk in today's world, and to combat antisemitism when it arises in your local spaces.

That's the part that matters.

And in my opinion? Based on the way you approached this, you're doing very well informing yourself on the subject. You had some idea of the issue, and you reached out to someone you trust. I appreciate you doing so.

Also, if you like me mostly knew this guy as, "oh, the anarchy in the UK guy, from guitar hero"... don't feel bad, my friend. I literally had no idea either. I recommend as further reading the short book/essay collection "Oy Oy Oy Gevalt! Jews and Punk" by Michael Croland.

[nodominion]

Bent | Rose & Gabrielle | Vamptember Day 3 (Free Day)

The humidity didn’t affect Rose as strongly as it had when she was human, but the memory of sheets sticking to her mortal skin made her want to toss off the covers, even though the sun had set a few hours before. Rose could never be an early riser, and though others spoke of how age is the only determining factor for when a vampire woke and slept, she felt this would always be a trait about herself. Know thyself. 

Though they were staying in Nairobi, at Rose’s behest, the city still retained the heat from the jungles. Viktor and herself had gone hunting in the wilderness, but instead of taking down majestic lions or empathetic elephants, they killed poachers. It was rather easy when those humans never assumed that anyone would be tracking them. They were careless, which was all the better for their hunt. She wondered if they were going to hunt in the same manner tonight or stalk the streets for their next meal. As she stretched out the forced sleep from her limbs her fingers brushed against a note Viktor had left. 

Meeting up with local vampires. Feel free to join. 

Below was an address. Rose did a cursory search for the location, a house about a twenty minute walk from their hotel. The invitation was left open, not forcing her to join him, but instead leaving it to her own wishes. 

While she and Viktor spent most of their time together, they were not joined at the hip. They had their own lives and interests, ones that didn’t involve the other. She’d read somewhere that long lasting human relationships were sometimes determined by each person maintaining their own individual identity. Whether that remained the same for vampires was anyone’s guess, having seen many different kinds of vampire relationships able to last decades, even centuries. 

Rose didn’t want to smother Viktor if he was actually being social on his own. Let him have his fun, perhaps even form bonds with these vampires without it having to do anything with her. She was used to being the outgoing one, the one who pushed Viktor into meeting others. Good for him if he was actually trying by himself. 

Vampire bodies don’t sweat, other than blood, but to work up a blood sweat took either fire or exertion. Neither of which she had experienced as she was sleeping. Normally Rose would never forgo the chance to shower, but with what she had in mind, it wasn’t necessary, not with vampire skin. Besides, it was late enough as it was, and Rose did not want to waste time.

Her hair had been fairly long before she was turned, and many nights she trimmed the length to hit just at her shoulders. Tonight she took it further, cutting the hair shorter and shorter until it was practically on her head. A quick borrow of Viktor’s razor and the back and sides were buzzed, leaving a longer crop of waves on top of her head. Another quick trim and they were shorter as well, her hairstyle attempting to look as masculine as possible. 

Of course she could have shaved her head, but the few times she had tried she ended up looking rather silly. At least in her view. By leaving a bit of hair at the top of her head it looked like a style, as if the haircut was intentional and not just the easiest choice. Naked already, she went into the one section of her luggage that wasn’t opened on every trip. It was the one time she was grateful that her chest wasn’t very large, the binder flattening the soft mounds, the masculine cut tank top and button down adding to her persona. The baggy slacks simply completed the look, and as she surveyed her outfit she thought she could fool enough people to pass for a twink. Short, tiny, and ready to fuck. Of course if someone got too handsy she would have to entrance them, but this was also an exercise in honing her empathic abilities. 

The shirt and slacks had been tailored for her stature. Benji had been her biggest help in finding a tailor who didn’t bat an eye at their height, having tried to play up her masculinity when she was getting her clothes. Now they felt as though they fit her, fit him. He could never think of being a man forever, he loved pretty dresses and feeling feminine most nights. But when the mood struck, Rose learned to lean into it, not fight it. What was the use of fighting the urge to show his twink self off when there was no judgment among their own kind. 

Nairobi might not have been the best city to try this in, but his plan was only to have Little Drinks tonight. No death on his hands, unless provoked. At least this was another city that never slept, and dances and parties were not only for a certain time of night. He and Viktor had already found the queer safe spaces of the city, both sampling the local flavor when they had arrived. Viktor had spoken of a savoriness in the blood that Rose hadn’t picked up on, but it was not as sweet as other places in the world. 

He feared nothing as he walked. While he did stand out, his paleness and his lack of height odd, most simply gave him a glance, perhaps a few stares. Rose waited for none of them, heading forward without hesitation. He knew his destination, and the public’s curiosity would not deter him. 

The bar was already alive, the DJ blasting the music at a volume that he was sure certain humans would lose some of their hearing that night. To his ears, it was loud, but it wasn’t painful. A simple beat that influenced his own heart, driving the blood within him to pump faster, for his own breaths to become more shallow. He wanted to be swept up by the music, uncaring for what a single mortal thought of him. 

A few people avoided him, though most ignored him. He made his way to the corner of the floor where men were dancing with men, and women with women. On another night he would have loved to take the woman taller than him into his arms, hold her close, kiss her neck. But that was not his intention tonight, as he swayed among the group of men, letting them lead him into the center of their circle. Rose had natural rhythm, and no matter the song, he could rock his body to the beat, letting the men’s style lead his steps. One of them threaded fingers through the short hair on his scalp, softly moaning at the warm touch from the alive body. Rose did stand out, but that also meant that others could dance unnoticed by others. It was as if his presence gave them a bit of a shield to the gaze of the entire dance floor. 

His fangs met the wrist of a man, having been kissing his fingers. A quick bite and then a heal, not taking more than was necessary. He drifted between various bodies, squeezing their arms, reaching for their necks, letting himself be caressed as if he were fragile enough to break. If they only knew.

Rose was far from being fully sated, but a presence in the club had him halting, retreating to the wall. He was not the only vampire here. He wonders if Viktor had come here with the others, but the Blood she sensed was singular, not the heartbeats of many. Perhaps Viktor had sought him out, wanted to be in his company for the rest of the evening. He attempted to feel out this other vampire, but they were hiding their mind. If Rose had any good sense, he would attempt the same, but he hadn’t prepared for having to deal with other vampires this evening. 

Hunger or not, he wanted to leave, a bright light flitting through the throng of the crowd as he made his way to the exit. The vampire caught his arm before he hit the door, by the bar, pulling him forcefully to themselves. As Rose looked back, about to kick or push, he realized he couldn’t. This was Gabrielle. She was wearing an outfit suited for a midnight safari ride, her long hair in a braid. 

“You’re far from home.” Gabrielle’s voice was emotionless, simply stating a fact. 

“Oh my god, hi! I didn’t know you were in Kenya! We could have met up before. Viktor’s off with others tonight. How are you?”

Gabrielle hadn’t let go of his arm, feeling the press of his mind being read, analyzed. 

“You’ve done this before.”

“What? Oh, the hair, the outfit? Yeah. It’s…hard to define. But I don’t need to. I do this for me, not for anyone else.”

It was then that he was let go, rubbing his arm where the indentations of Gabrielle’s fingers had left marks. They would heal within seconds, but he was surprised by her use of force. 

“You’ve done this before, or so I’ve read.”

“Yes. For a purpose. I was not in the city until I sensed you and Viktor. Then Lestat sent me to check on you both.”

“Of course he did. He can’t stand that we’re both adults who no longer need supervision. Do you want to stay here? I’ve had enough to drink until tomorrow, we can go back to our hotel. If no other reason than for the quiet.”

“Alright. Will Viktor return before dawn?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t messaged him yet. If he doesn’t I wouldn’t worry. I can sense him in a five mile radius, if I concentrate. The more blood we share the easier it gets.”

“You are improving, young fledgling.”

Gabrielle presses a hand to the small of his back, leading Rose from the venue and back down the crowded streets. It feels odd that he is not the one leading the way, but he assumes that Gabrielle has been told of where they booked their hotel. Maybe she even checked there first to see if they were in. It made Rose want to bristle at the idea of Lestat sending his own mother on a mission to check on them, but he supposed that out of everyone in the coven, Gabrielle would care less about checking each square inch of them over for injury. 

They had a suite for their time here, with no check out date planned. Once inside, Rose flopped on a couch, handing Gabrielle the remote, though she looked at the object as if she hadn’t seen such a thing in her entire life. Setting it down, and leaving the TV off, Rose shrugged. 

“There’s not much else to do in this room. We didn’t get the fully decked out one, but at least it’s bigger than the normal rooms. Sometimes it’s nice not to be treated as a VIP. They pay less attention to you.”

Gabrielle sat across from Rose, still looking over his outfit, his hair.

“You think of yourself as a man.”

Rose sits up, taking a moment to think before he replies, rare for him, but he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing.

“Not always. Right now, yes. I think they call it genderqueer. I like she/her pronouns most of the time, but like this I’ll go by he/him. Viktor’s tried it as well, but he does it way less than I do. Even then I’m maybe…once a month. It just…I feel like me still. And tomorrow I will too, with long hair and a long dress.”

“Why choose one or the other?”

“That’s just what works for me. It doesn’t have to work for everyone. Or you. What do you like best?”

“I’d rather not think about my gender at all. It feels rather tedious.”

“Sure. Maybe you’re nonbinary. Have you ever tried using different pronouns? Like, I think of you as she, but if you’d rather use they/them, I can easily switch for you.”

“What?”

“Okay, so like right now, when I’m dressed like this, I’m a man. Not like a man, just a guy. I don’t change my name, but I ask to be thought of as a dude, referred to as he. How would you want to be referred to?”

“I wouldn’t want to be. I am here for Lestat. You are simply confusing me with this new language.”

“I don’t mean to be confusing, but this stuff is a little new for me too. Let’s start with how you think of yourself. Are you a woman or a man?”

“Neither. I am Gabrielle. When I am not at court I am a vampire.”

“That’s a good start. When people refer to you as she or her, how does it make you feel?”

“It is how I have been referred to since I was born, there is no changing it.”

“Wrong. You can change it now. If I try to recount my evening with you should I say, ‘I met up with Gabrielle and she and I came back to the hotel’ or ‘I met up with Gabrielle and they and I came back to the hotel’.”

It was Gabrielle’s turn to go silent, thinking through Rose’s question. This was probably the longest conversation he had ever had with Gabrielle. Normally they avoided one another, Rose far too frightened to try and start up a conversation. But something about the way he felt in his tailored outfit, with his hair, raking a hand through to toss the short pieces to the side, gave him a confidence he didn’t have before. 

“They. I haven’t been a woman since the last time I gave birth to Lestat. I may wear gowns for him on occasion, but that does not change my feelings.”

Rose grins, fangs fully on display. “That’s awesome! Well, not having to be gendered when you were human, but you can be more yourself now. We should do something to celebrate!”

“Let’s stay in. You’ve distracted enough of the city for one night. The humans would not shut up about the little lost tourist and how he was most certainly going to be pick-pocketed before the night was done.”

“Really? Let them try. I was inviting that kind of attention if only so I could feed guilt free.”

“Still. Rose?”

“Yeah, Gabrielle?”

“Will you cut my hair like yours?”

“I’d be honored!”

Rose bolts up, taking their hand and leading Gabrielle to the bathroom. He cuts and shaves down their hair with the same attention that he had given his own, pausing to test out different lengths before deciding to go shorter. What Gabrielle ends with is a longer cut on the whole head, but more even, only shaved so that it looks as neat as possible. Rose kisses their shoulder, grateful for this time with his sibling in the Blood. Gabrielle laughs at the gesture, gently turning around to tug Rose’s face close to hers, biting their tongue to share a bit of their blood in a short kiss. It was only long enough for Rose to taste them, to want more, but that wasn’t to be. This was a bonding kiss, one that vampires initiated as a way of saying thanks or a greeting. Rose wanted to share his own blood, not having had the chance, but Gabrielle placed a finger to their lips. Not now seemed to be the implication. But perhaps one night. The two of them looked back in the mirror, handsome figures with gleaming skin, and hair that matched their current sentiments about themselves and each other. 

[blorbologist]

Cat’s Cradle - Chapter 6

Ch 1 … Ch 5

Percy spends the day at the workshop - though Vex had left a spare key with him, letting himself in to set up his things might exceed his welcome. Partially, also, because he still intends to trap Curio.

It’s simple enough to set up a webcam to watch the trap, baited with the wet food he sometimes brings her. 

He glances at the webcam whenever he thinks to - no sign of her.

The kittens keep him from getting too engrossed in his work, squeaking awake every few hours. Preparing and microwaving the formula is just enough time to sneak in a snack for himself. Though he must be running on more caffeine than blood at the moment, he suspects this is the first time he’s eaten regularly throughout the day in years.

They’re quite the little cast of characters, despite being hardly a day old. It’s fascinating, how of the twins (he should not think of them as twins, he should not, he should not-) the one with the white ribbon prefers to nestle into the biggest littermate, how the green keeps wiggling away from the pack. All but that one are eating well, with the tabby molly giving her siblings a run for their money with her appetite. 

It’s the white kitten he keeps coming back to, though. After a few cursory searches on cats with the condition, the future ahead of her seems a shaky - hah! - one. Not debilitating, but finding an appropriate home for the kitten will be difficult.

His own hand wobbles when he tries to pet her, so Percy takes to watching her breathe, heart something tight. The tremor he lives with is medicated, restricted to his extremities and still enough to trouble him viciously on bad days - how will the thing fare with her whole body bucking her control? Unable to understand why she can’t run, jump and pounce like her siblings? 

Movement on the camera demands his attention: Curio, skirting the edge of the building.

Percy pauses, watching with bated breath.

She circles the trap, paces near the mouth of it with restless energy. Her dark head slips inside - before she thinks better of it. 

The webcam does not have sound - Percy had thought it unhelpful to include in his quick setup. So he can only guess as to what startles her into freezing, eyes black saucers, before she bolts for cover.

“Damn it,” groans Percy.

--

Vex knocks. 

There’s something very wrong, about her knocking in her own apartment, that sets Percy’s spine sideways.

“Yes? Just putting things away,” Percy calls. That might be an exaggeration: there really was not all that much to bring, and taking up Vax’s space with his clothes and toiletries feels wrong. 

At the moment it’s just his pressed shirts in a corner of the cramped closet and everything else stacked on the dresser. And a pile of changed sheets, because as high a regard as he has for Vax’ildan he is not risking gross sheets - especially given the man is dating his best friend. Eurgh.

She opens the door and Trinket barges in, wagging his backside with delight. He immediately sticks his nose into the socks Percy has in hand. 

“Trinket - give him space!” Vex has plopped herself on the bed by the time Percy looks up, clapping her hands to draw her dog away. He gets one final snort in before spinning around with a frustrated whine.

“He’s just enthusiastic about everything going on,” Percy says, inspecting the socks for drool before stacking them with the rest. “Between myself and the kitten scents, it must be very exciting. ”

Vex is smiling and smushing Trinket’s cheeks in her hands. It’s a crooked thing, and her movements are slow, and she does not look up when he turns. That wrongness creaks in the back of his head.

“Is everything alright?”

“Maybe?” She winces. Carefully, Percy sits beside her on the bed. 

Percy leans back on his hands with a sigh. “I suppose,” he says, “we should have that later talk, hm?”

Monday is, all things considered, later than he had expected this to happen.

He leaves room for her to speak.

Or maybe he should open his mouth, start talking. Apologize. It was that mouth that got their friendship into this situation, after all.

“I am sorry,” Percy repeats. “Truly. I - I can make no excuses for my behavior, but I want you to know it - it’s always my last intention to make you uncomfortable.”

Vex shrugs, still lavishing affection on Trinket. His drool smears on her work pants. “We were all drinking, Percy. A lot,” she says. “It was a whole thing - the rush after the win, Vax and Keyleth leaving.” A wink. “And I was looking pretty hot.”

Perhaps he’s being too forward, but - “Nothing unusual there.” She smirks. He echoes her blush, just a touch. 

“Besides,” Vex continues. Trinket whines when she stalls her ministrations. “Besides - it’s not like I haven’t kissed you plenty of times, darling.”

She has. After a gallant gesture or a favor, a gift or a sharp compliment. Almost has a method to it - steady herself with a hand on his chest so she can lean up, almost on tiptoe, to smack one just clear of his stubble, at the edge of his blush. His role in the dance is to stand very, very still and hold the sparkle in her eyes as the treasure it is.

It’s just usually been on the cheek, and always initiated by Vex. 

This had been neither. 

Vex had tasted like pineapple and vodka. Her dress was smooth cobalt, lovely beneath his tremor. She’d kissed him back and he might have gasped when she snaked a hand in his hair and she might have pressed her advantage. In the background, cheers as the Emon Elites beat the Chroma Conclave in overtime. 

It’s very telling, and very terrible, that he still recalls it so clearly. Especially given she’d pulled back, picture of a deer in headlights, and all but fled the party. And not replied to a single text trying to broach the subject.

The hope for photos of Curio had been a hope for normalcy. And then the kittens happened, and they had more important things to occupy their thoughts. 

Everything about it has him wrong-footed and unsure, and when he’s either he turns to Vex and puts his trust in her judgment.

So. Percy turns to Vex.

“We were both drunk,” Percy says carefully, “and clearly my advances were unwelcome.” He swallows, in the vain hope his heart might leave his throat. No such luck. “I won’t do either of us the disservice of lying - they… I was genuine. I still am. But I’ll-”

Vex holds up a finger to quiet him. “I kissed you back, Percy. It’s just-” She hisses in frustration, drawing her hands over her face. “Fuck.”

Tiring of Vex’s despair, Trinket disengages and shoves his head at Percy’s knees instead. He complies, digging his fingers into the loose skin behind the dog’s ears, earning a happy woof. It’s enough to bring a smile to both their faces. 

“It’s not that -” Her voice comes out as mumbles from behind her hands. It would be cute if not for how frustration radiates off her in waves. “It’s not that I’m not interested. I am! Everything’s just - shitballs, why is this so hard?”

“Complicated?” Percy offers around the lump in his throat. It’s wet and scratchy and reminds him faintly of a hairball.

“Complicated, yeah.”

Little trouble understanding that: she’s throttled by two jobs, her brother is provinces away, he vaguely recalls something about her estranged father and little sister too. And he went and made it even more of a tangled mess. Genius. 

“So.” Vex is patient as always as Percy sorts out the words, which tumble out as, “Where do we stand? Where do you want us to stand?”

“I don’t do relationships - usually!” she’s quick to add as Percy’s face falls. One of his hands is taken by her’s - small, slight - and squeezed pointedly. “But I don’t - I need some time to sort everything out. And I don’t want things to go tits up when the babies depend on us.”

Percy nods. “A later later talk, then?” On cue his phone starts buzzing - time to feed the little mongrels. 

Vex grins, earnest this time. “It’s a date. Bring some Courage when we do, will you?”

“Nothing less than the best.” He splays his fingers, so she can withdraw her hand if she chooses. “Still friends?”

“Friends.” Vex meets his gaze as she maintains her hold, draws their hands up and down in a mockery of a handshake. She does more than meet it, really - finds it where he might have buried it far from her and keeps it close. Trinket whines, bothered by the phone’s whirring. Breaks the spell.

Vex taps off the alarm before he can, hopping to her feet. “I’ll take care of them this time - you get settled, alright?”

“Of course.”

Percy gives himself exactly five minutes - he sets a timer for it - to lay back on the bed, stare at the ceiling and juggle how he feels about this.

Trinket, helpfully, sticks his nose in his ear.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

sort of niche but even just within this last week i did a cursory search for any recent posts by eliquorice of [several video essays] fame who onlinely dropped off mid 2021 so completely that prior cursory searches also turned up random posters asking the same questions like "anyone know of what's going on here. like that he hasn't died or anything" to no avail

double-took at this just minutes ago though

and a quick once-over at his twitter reveals One new Like on a tweet that's from nov 8th this year. nothing new on reddit, youtube, or patreon (seeming to have the most recent Post, from jan 2022), no further info, even needs to presume it's himself using his own account here (seems likely) but that's Eliquorice Is Indeed Like, Alive confirmation for all of us out here occasionally looking up as much

[terrainofheartfelt]

i 1000% agree with the point you made in the tags (and am now considering checking out my dark vanessa!!) i just also had a quick question about an aside you mentioned - in what ways do you feel prejudice has been woven into the way libraries organize information? i don’t mean to distract from the broader, more important message of the post, i’m just really curious about this as i’ve never really considered how organizational systems could have that kind of impact, and am now wondering how much of an effect it has on the overall institution of the american library system

oooh we love an academia question in this house!

Now, I am about 4 years removed from library school, so I'm going off memory and a quick cursory search, but I think this lithub article is a good jumping off point, but as a librarian I feel duty bound to encourage you to look up the sources they cite (they also misconstrue Thomas Dousa as from the University of Chicago when Dousa is actually from University of Illinois but whatevs)

to give a simple digest of a complicated issue, it comes down to the organizational system that most american libraries use (because it's easier to share resources/find resources if they're findable in the same way) was designed and implemented by cis het white men.

So, libraries of a significant size, like big academic research libraries where I work, use the Library of Congress (LoC) classification system to organize their books. the broad breakdown is that it sorts books into subject & catergory, then sorts them further by genre, author, title, year, volume, etc. the pros of it are that it's expansive, and was built with room to grow to make room for new subject areas, and one can go a granular as necessary to adequately classify and describe a work in the library catalog.

the main con of this system can be best described by the principle taught to me by my mother when she taught me how to use a calculator: Garbage in, garbage out. and that is when this LoC system was designed form only one perspective, that of a cisgendered, heterosexual white man, that point of view obscured other useful, and arguably, essential viewpoints for organizing information. because if only one perspective is sorting the information, their biases---no matter how unconscious---affect their priorities and what they value.

one way this is most obvious is with LoC Subject Headings. in addition to the call number system and everything else used to catalog a work in a library, every work is also ascribed Subject Headings, that, to use a library science term, describe the "aboutness" of the book. like: Literary Fiction, 19th Century; Music Literature, 21st Century. and since many of those subject heading were writeen by straight white men librarians, the language of them can be, well, racist, and homophobic, and transphobic, and sexist. a quote from the post I linked above:

Library of Congress Subject Headings, which are rooted in what Amanda Ros, a cataloger at Texas A&M University calls “the straight white American male assumption.” Research from Ros shows that about one-tenth of Library of Congress Subject Headings contain the word “men” in the title, compared to the number of subject headings that include “women.” Ros finds that without gender, race or geographic qualifications subjects containing the word “astronauts” in Library of Congress Subject Headings can be assumed to mean white American men. As Ros illustrates in a 2019 article for The Conversation, “Women are designated with ‘Women astronauts’ and ‘African American women astronauts,’ but there is no subject heading for male astronauts. A book about astronauts who are men would have the general subject ‘Astronauts,’ unless the racial identity prompted the use of a subject like ‘Hispanic American astronauts’ or ‘Indian astronauts.’ Likewise, a book about Russian astronauts would have a geographic subdivision added: ‘Astronauts – Soviet Union’ instead of ‘Russian astronauts.’

and even if their shortsightedness in designing this system wasn't malicious in intention, it is harmful in practice, especially when marginalized groups are the ones most in need of protection by libraries.

it's not that dissimilar from the conversation around software and artificial intelligence: programs are being taught that cisgender heterosexual white man is the default, and so the machine system adjusts poorly to the innumerable variations on that assumed "default."

so uh just to say, if prejudice informs the design of an organizational system -- even unintentionally -- the system will have ingrained prejudices of its own. but, I think I should note, librarians are aware of this, and are working on adjusting the resource descriptors to be inclusive as well as accurate. I remember reading in grad school about initiatives to change subject headings, and I'm pretty sure that task is a part of my workplaces diversity, equity, and inclusion strategic plan. the problem is being addressed, it's just a big and complicated one.

[floret-botanica]

Salty fandom asks: 1, 5, 9, 14 (for any fandom), 23?

I'm a one fandom person so this is going to be about Oxventure. It also turned into such a rant, I'm so sorry but also that's probably the point of this ask game.

1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?

Barnaby/Lilith. Don't understand it at all. Why are you burdening a fantastic, devoted and intelligent woman with an absolute trainwreck? Lilith doesn't deserve this! Barnaby is such a fuckhead and truly does not get better throughout the series (he gets more capable, but is almost the exact same level of shitty at the end), and I think Lilith deserves better.

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

[Looks sideways at demonpirate].

Okay, I do still like it, kind of, but it's just everywhere and I don't think it's interesting enough to justify that. There are so many options and I don't understand sticking to just one.

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why?

Recently? Dob. I don't like the guilt arc. Whenever it was featured it really ground the episode to a halt (Hunter Pressure and early Orbpocalypse being good examples of this) and it felt like such a clunky decision from Luke rather than naturalistic character development.

Also, the Katie arc was funny, but I cannot stand and have never enjoyed the Liliana nonsense. It wrecks any tension/suspense which, given that this is primarily a comedy, would be fine if it was funny, but I don't think it is. It's especially annoying when you combine with Dob's guilt arc, because he was just getting all uptight about murder before forgetting that and loving a full supervillain!

I think we're quick to make excuses for the show because it's "just a comedy" but a) lots of comedy becomes very heartfelt and complex (Dimension 20 anyone?), and b) they are clearly putting in more serious elements and we are allowed to critique those. I really like the show but I haven't been keeping up with the latest season after the start of episode 2, because Liliana showed up and it completely killed my interest.

The Oxventure is, and always has been, funny, but it used to have heart as well. I think there's less of that than there used to be.

14. Unpopular opinion about your fandom?

I don't think I have one, it's too small. Sometimes I feel like headcannons are a little stereotypical, but that's just fandom baby! It's not hurting anyone. Also put read-mores on long posts please. Or at least tag long post.

23. Unpopular character you love?

I don't think that there are unpopular Oxventure characters, I've seen pretty balanced spreads across the whole fandom. In terms of other stuff i.e. my beloved Monster Prom series, my favourite characters are Aaravi, Joy, then Valerie, which, from a cursory search, doesn't seem to be the most popular opinion.

[kpwebtechwebdesigningseo]

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