#finance and budgeting for men

[gentlemanclub1]

10 Effective Strategies for Saving Money in Your Daily Life

Introduction: Saving money is a crucial aspect of financial well-being and can help you achieve your long-term goals. While it may seem challenging at first, incorporating simple strategies into your daily routine can make a significant difference over time. In this blog post, we will explore ten effective strategies for saving money, providing descriptive explanations and practical examples to…

[cooliestghouliest]

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

plot summary: It’s Eddie’s birthday! He said no presents but you said fuck that. He’s getting two.

word count: 4k+

cw: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI; this is smut; porn with plot; Eddie being mean to Gareth; handjobs and blowjobs and Gareth unknowingly being a bystander of both; there’s some cum stuff in here, too.

notes: set in early 1990s. reader and Eddie are both in early/mid 20s. let’s pretend the PlayStation had co-op online gaming so this story makes sense. a part two may be in store. let me know what you think. 😈

Working overtime at The Hideout was not something you necessarily wanted to do, but with Eddie’s birthday coming up, it was something you had to do.

As much as you would have liked them to, bills wouldn’t simply pause just because you wanted to save money to buy Eddie a PlayStation. No, you had to use your math-inept brain to start budgeting, getting some help from Steve, who’d just recently been hired to work at a local accounting firm.

While you were hoping Steve would magically find money hidden somewhere in your finances, you were annoyed but not surprised at his only solution:

“You need to pick up more shifts.”

You and Eddie had moved into an apartment just outside of Hawkins after Eddie had finally graduated, you having helped him through that dreaded English class so you could both walk the stage together. That had been three years ago now. Money was tight, sure, but the two of you never went without the essentials. There was always dinner to be had, clothes to be worn, cable to be watched.

Between you bartending and trying to get a degree part-time, and Eddie dealing and working at the auto shop part-time, you both managed to make just enough to stay afloat.

Sometimes Eddie would score a few hundred playing a gig with Corroded Coffin, and he’d use that to wine and dine you like the fancy little lady you were. His words, not yours. You knew Eddie liked to spoil you. You knew he hated he couldn’t do it more.

Many stoned late night conversations had been had between the two of you where he fantasized aloud about taking you country to country once the band made it big, fucking you in soft, plush, expensive hotel beds, and spoon feeding you gelato while watching the sunset on a balcony, your bodies wrapped in silk, name-embroidered robes.

Eddie was a total lush at heart. The most broke rich man you’d ever met. You assumed this was because he came from virtually nothing. You didn’t need everything he wanted to give you, but he made it clear on more than one occasion that once money wasn’t a barrier, he would treat you like a queen.

You felt like he already did.

This is why you sucked up the hatred you had for The Hideout and told Roy, your boss, you’d work whatever shifts he could give you for the next few weeks. You endured handfuls of handsy truck drivers, pretended to flirtatiously banter with beyond drunk bikers, and held back the powerful urge to gag while stroking the egos of middle aged business men who chose to go through their midlife crisis in a seedy, dimly lit bar.

Seeing the look on Eddie’s face when you slid the wrapped package across the small dining table in your kitchen made all of the extra hours of rum pouring and forced salacious smiles worth it.

He had been mid-sentence, talking about a client at the auto shop who he’d spent an hour after hours with, the guy telling him all about medieval torture devices. This didn’t surprise you. Eddie’s fascination with the macabre was one of the things that had drawn the two of you together in the first place.

The first time you’d officially met was in English class your junior year, his third senior year. You’d told him you lived in a funeral home because your dad was a generational mortician, and that one day you’d probably own and operate it once your father retired. You also told him your mom was a self-proclaimed psychic who held seances for family members of the dead following their services. Eddie open-mouth stared at you for at least an entire minute in silence before telling you that was the creepiest fucking thing he’d ever heard, and that he would never feel fulfilled in life until you invited him over so he could experience it all firsthand. 

The rest is history.

“What is this?” Eddie asked, brown eyes wide as he observed the gift in front of him.

“I know we said no presents this year so we can save for the new car, but... you know how I had all those late night study groups I had to go to this semester?”

He nodded, long fingers toying with the black parchment wrapping paper.

“Weeeeeell, actually, I was working overtime at The Hideout,” you admitted, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth. You knew he wasn’t going to be happy to hear you hadn’t been honest this past month, but you figured once he saw what you’d bought him (and what you’d had planned for the rest of the night), maybe he’d decide to let bygones be bygones. Not likely, as Eddie thoroughly enjoyed teaching you lessons as punishment for bad behavior, and you figured lying for weeks on end about attending study groups qualified as pretty bad behavior. You rushed out the next few sentences, smiling innocently and tilting your head to try and appear as cute as you possibly could, “It was so I could buy you that. For your birthday. Happy birthday, Eddie. Love you.”

Eddie’s brows lifted toward his hairline at your admittance, slow blinking a few times as your confession set in.

“We are definitely going to revisit all that at a later point,” Eddie warned, a ringed finger pointing at you. “Because that is so not okay. But -- ” he couldn’t help the excited, boyish grin that enveloped his features. “I really wanna open this and see what it is.”

You giggled in excitement at his eagerness, drumming your fingers on the table. “Okay, come on! Open it!” You would enjoy these few hours of spoiling him as he so frequently spoiled you, and you’d worry about whatever punishment he’d dole out when it came later.

And right now, the look of elation on his face as he unwrapped the PlayStation was worth however many studded belt spankings or denied orgasms you had in your near future.

“Fuck! Baby! No way!” he practically squealed, jumping up from the chair. It fell to the ground behind him with a clatter, but he paid no mind. He held the gaming console above him in awe. “You’re fucking kidding!”

“No, no kidding,” you answered, even though you knew his words were rhetorical. You could feel your cheeks growing sore with the smile stretched across your face, basking in his reaction. “There’s a real PlayStation in there, I swear.”

He laughed and protectively cradled the console under his arm, hurrying to you to slam his lips against yours in a kiss. No tongue, but plenty of fervor. “God, I fucking love you,” he muttered, placing small kisses on your nose and cheeks. “I mean, I’d fucking love you even if you got me nothing, or just, like, socks or something, but, shit, baby, this is -- I have to call Gareth! We can play King’s Field together now!”

A laugh bubbled out of your lips at his sudden change in direction, knowing Eddie was always at the whim of his impulses. You watched as he ran off to the living room to make the call. You knew Gareth would be waiting for it, as you’d told him to make sure he didn’t have plans on Eddie’s birthday, so the two of them could spend it playing the multiplayer game together late into the night.

It was all part of your grander birthday plan.

You waited until you heard Eddie’s voice rambling off to Gareth in the living room, the sounds of him unboxing the console to start to hook it up mingled into his conversation, before you disappeared into your bedroom to change.

Phase one, complete, success. Phase two, final phase, commence.

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

It was about twenty minutes later when you reemerged from the bedroom, wearing nothing but a newly bought matching blood red bra and panty set. It was solid colored with black lace outlining the rim of both pieces, flattering against your skin tone.

Eddie was sitting on the edge of the La-Z-Boy, headset mussing down his wild curls, talking animatedly to Gareth about the skeletons they were currently fighting on the screen.

“No, no! Go left, go left! God damnit, Gareth, do you know what your left is?!”

Eddie was loud and mouthy enough as it is, but add in a game where he had the ability to lose and the whole apartment complex would be banging on their door come tomorrow morning with noise complaints. Hell hath no fury like a twenty-something man’s confidence in his pretend battling skills.

While some might find it annoying, you found Eddie’s unbridled passion for everything he was interested in endearing. He was someone who let himself be totally engulfed by the plot of a movie or a game or a story, attaching himself to the characters and their the ups and downs as if they were tangible and could be found in his own everyday life.

You were happy for his distraction as it gave you time to compose yourself and slowly stalk your way to the center of the living room, where the chair sat directly across from the TV.

By the time you made your way to the side of the La-Z-Boy, finally coming into Eddie’s peripheral vision, he was still berating Gareth for his poor sense of direction.

“I mean, what the hell, Gare, we learned our lefts and rights in, like -- oh, fuck.”

You’d brought you hand out to trail down the exposed skin of Eddie’s arm, watching it goosebump in your wake. He’d taken his shirt off at some point, much to your appreciation. Eddie’s attention was fully on you now, as was evident from his failed completed sentence to Gareth, who you could now hear through Eddie’s headset going, “Oh, fuck? What? What, oh fuck? You don’t even know how to talk, Munson.”

But Gareth went unheard by Eddie, who’s eyes were drinking in the sight of you in your lingerie set. His tongue darted out to lick at his lower lip, which he then pulled into his mouth to sink his top teeth into.

You offered him a playful smile, watching as his neck began to turn red, the color almost a perfect match for the satin set you had on.

Without a word, you dropped to your knees on the carpet in front of him, sitting between his legs.

“What -- what are you doing?” he managed to choke out.

Gareth’s voice through the headset: “What? Dude, I’m fucking going left like you told me to!”

“Shut up, Gareth,” Eddie warned, his brown eyes now full of fire for the sight before him.

He brought one hand to cover the mouthpiece of his headset, the other placing the controller on his lap to reach out and cradle your face. You leaned into it.

“What are you doing, baby?” Eddie asked again, but he knew. Especially from the wicked grin you were giving him now.

“Just play your game, Eddie,” you whispered, careful to be quiet so Gareth didn’t hear. You moved your head to rest your cheek on his thigh, staring up at him with big doe eyes as you brought the fingers of one hand to lightly trace the line of his zipper. “And don’t get caught. We don’t want Gareth to know what a bad girl I’m being, playing with your cock while you play with him.”

His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t believe it.

Not only had you gotten him exactly what he’d been wanting since it came out that prior winter, but now you were going to suck him off while he played it?

Jesus, how did he get so lucky?

“You are a fucking minx,” Eddie said, voice stern but his face lighting up in satisfaction as he readjusted himself on the chair, spreading his legs a bit wider.

He dropped the hand from the headset and picked the controller back up again just as Gareth was saying, “Eddie, man, are you still there? Your character’s been standing in the same place for, like, five minutes.”

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

Sucking dick was not only one of your favorite things to do, but it was one of the things you were best at.

You prided yourself on how quickly you could work Eddie into a panting frenzy, how easy it was for him to lose control in your mouth, thrusting his hips to force you to take what you could and to choke back the rest.

But tonight you were taking it slow. Slow and sloppy. And you weren’t letting him do any of the work.

You’d only pulled his cock from his jeans, leaving his balls in the confines of the tight denim. You’d used so much spit that the fabric of his pants was soaking through to his boxer briefs. You watched his face intently as one of your hands wrapped around the thickness of him, stroking upwards in long, drawn out movements. You could tell he was trying to jerk his hips up but was failing, as your other hand was pressed into his side, trying its hardest to keep his body weight back against the chair.

“Greedy,” you scolded, clicking your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

He smiled sheepishly, eyes meeting yours over his hands which were holding the controller against his chest. He stopped the movement of his hips even though he felt as if it physically pained him to do so.

You’d been working him with your hands and mouth for the better part of half an hour now, releasing him entirely any time he came close to coming. He’d let a whine out at one point, to which Gareth asked, “Dude, you good?” and Eddie had to scramble out in his lust addled brain an excuse as to why that type of noise had erupted from him. He didn’t even remember what he’d said to explain it away.

All Eddie wanted to do was come. He wanted to cover you in him, drench your face and chest as you’d drenched his pants and cock in your warm saliva. He kept picturing it in his head, in alarmingly graphic detail, which was making this video game very, very hard to concentrate on.

Eddie got the idea that maybe if you neared your breaking point too, he’d finally be allowed to come. His cock throbbed at the thought, a bead of precum oozing from his slit. You sucked it away. He groaned and rolled his eyes back, controller wobbling in his hand and threatening to fall to the floor.

Taking a deep breath, he steadied his grip again, pressing a few random assortments of buttons to make Gareth think he was still coherent and definitely not getting a blowjob from his girlfriend right now.

“Will you please play with yourself?” Eddie asked, trying to put forth his best pleading puppy dog eyes. This was his big plan. Get you to get yourself off so he could sneak his orgasm in there, too.

He clearly had forgotten to cover the mouthpiece because Gareth’s voice was incredulous on the other end.

“What the fuck, Munson? What do you mean? I can’t play with myself! We’re almost at the end, man! Don’t give up now!”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips, your head falling back for a moment at the exasperation in Gareth’s voice. Gareth was none the wiser, but just so you felt better, you made a mental note to buy him something nice or bake him those cookies you knew he liked, just for being such an unknowingly good sport during all of this.

Sticking your tongue out a bit, you bit down on the fleshy muscle in your mouth before rising more on your knees, leaning closer to Eddie. With the hand that was previously pushing his hips down, you covered his mouthpiece. “Is this a game you can win?” you asked. Your hand had stopped stroking now, and your fingers were instead running light pressured circles around the head of his weeping cock.

“Wha -- what? Uh, yeah... yeah, I can win,” Eddie stumbled, attention off the game momentarily to watch your hot little mouth move. “Just... fuck up a few more skeletons...”

“Okay,” you said, hand tightening on his member again, this time sliding it down slowly, twisting as you went. He hissed, trying to lean forward to capture your mouth with his own. You backed away, falling back down to your bottom as you continued playing with him in your hand. “Then win and I’ll let you come.”

Eddie huffed, trying to thrust his hips up for more friction but was stopped by your hand reclaiming its spot on his pelvis again, pushing him back down. If he wanted, he could absolutely overpower you. He could grab your wrists and pull you up into his lap, sliding the side of your panties over with one hand before impaling you on his wanting cock. He knows you’d let him. But he likes when you get like this, thinking you’re in control. It makes it all that much better when he finally flips the script and has you teary eyed begging for him to let you come.

“Gareth, I swear to fucking god, if we don’t win this game in the next three minutes, I’m never speaking to you again.”

𖤐 ֪ 𖤐 ֪ 𖤐

It takes longer than three minutes, and it’s not because of Gareth.

Eddie keeps screwing up, pressing X when he should be pressing O; spamming the start button to bring up the game menu when you take him particularly deep into your throat; accidentally stabbing Gareth’s character with a sword instead of the skeleton because his eyes keep rolling into the back of his head with the words spilling from your filthy mouth.

It’s all, “tastes so good, Eddie,” and “can’t even fit you all in my mouth,” and “I’m dripping on the floor, want you so bad.”

Evil woman.

Evil, perfect woman.

Eddie sees a light at the end of the tunnel. Literally. In the game, the hallway he and Gareth had been running down is opening into the brightness of a lit arena. It’s the final stage. One more fucking skeleton and he can let go. He can turn this headset off and grunt and groan to his heart’s content without having to worry about Gareth thinking he’s a fucking creep.

“I’m almost there...” Eddie’s saying, and he’s kind of talking about winning the game, but is mostly talking about the orgasm he can feel tightening in his balls, swirling in his stomach, clenching in his thighs.

“Yeah, dude! We got this!”

Eddie does not want to hear Gareth’s voice right now. He wants to hear you, pretty and whiny, loving the noises you make when you make him come. He loves how much you love it. You’re not even the one coming, but you’re always right there with him, moaning about how good his warm seed feels inside you or all over you, wherever he decides to finish. You’re not picky.

Just then, Eddie jolts forward in the chair. The head of his hard length hits the back of your throat and you cough a little, sputtering as you move your head. Looking back over your shoulder at the TV screen, hand moving up and down Eddie’s slippery cock, you see the words 'YOU WIN' in radioactive green.

“Fuuuuuuck, yes!” Eddie shouts, throwing the controller in the air. He rips off the headset without saying goodbye to Gareth, dropping it to the ground as he turns his attention back to you.

He looks absolutely wrecked. Black bangs are clung to his forehead with sweat, his chest is heavy with labored breaths, his skin is tinged pink from being so worked up and then worked back down over and over for the past hour. He can’t believe he hasn’t accidentally came yet. He assumes it’s because his mind was preoccupied with the game, because now that his full attention is on you, remembering what you’re wearing, what you’re doing, and how you look so fucking good doing it, he doesn’t think he’s going to last.

“Baby, please, I wanna come,” he’s saying, bringing one hand to the back of your head, tangling it in your hair. He’s not guiding you or helping at all, doesn’t want to be in control yet, he just wants to touch you, needs to have his hands on you somehow. “I won, did you see, I won, I get to come, right? Please make me come...”

You bit back a self-satisfied look at his pleading, bringing both hands now to wrap around the length of him. It doesn’t need it, already soaking from being in your mouth, but you let a string of spit fall onto the head of his cock, making your hands glide even easier over the velvety hardness of him. You can feel him throbbing, his hips finally able to rock up into your touch.

“Are you gonna make me all messy, Eddie?” you ask, tilting your head down to look up at him with wide, faux innocent eyes.

He’s nodding, thrusts finding no rhythm, just trying to reach release. “Yeah, baby, you love it when I cover you in my come, get you all wet and sticky...”

“Uh-huh. Love when you help me clean it up, too.”

And that’s what does it.

Eddie let out a stilted moan, one that changed octaves, and he’s coming harder than he thinks he’s ever come before.

Thick ropes of white hit your cheeks, your chin, your neck, your chest.

You gasped at the contact, then let out a moan that made his toes curl into the carpet, licking your lips to catch anything that landed in tongue distance.

He watches it all. His eyes threaten to close but fuck no, he loves to see you get marked by him in the most primal of ways. Loves to watch his cock paint the prettiest portrait on you.

He brought his hand down to help you stroke him through it, wanting to feel your smaller fingers on his cock as he rode out his high.

Then he gave you what you love, helping you clean it up. He bent his head down and ran his tongue across your hot skin, scooping up as much of his release as he could. He grabbed you by the chin, pulling down until your mouth opened before spitting into your mouth, watching as you let it sit for a moment before closing your mouth and swallowing, your eyes heavy with arousal at his actions.

“Mmmm,” you sound, smiling dopily. You kissed at his lips, your hand still slowly stroking him as he softened.

He licked at your bottom lip before his tongue moved into your mouth and against yours, pulling you into his lap. You melted into his touch, becoming boneless flesh in his arms. He groaned at the feeling of your wet, clothed cunt pressed against his lower stomach. He hadn’t even touched you -- you hadn’t even touched yourself -- and yet you were still so slick for him.

That thought alone was enough to cause his cock to twitch, and he thanked the sex gods or whoever was in charge for gracing him with stamina tonight of all nights.

“Best,” kiss to your nose, “birthday,” kiss to your chin, “ever,” kiss to your lips.

You smiled against his lips, humming happily at his admission. This was exactly how you planned the night going. Surprise Eddie with a PlayStation and an explosive orgasm.

Then he just had to go and throw a curveball.

“I’ll be good to go in twenty minutes,” he conceded, fingers running featherlight down your bare back. “Then we’ll see what we’re gonna do about that lying mouth of yours.”

Damn it. The study groups. He remembered. Part of you hoped you’d sucked all the sense out of him, but apparently not.

“Mean,” you pouted.

Eddie’s eyes flashed wickedly, a lazy grin stretching across his face.

“Oh, I will be.”

[noirflms]

THE HOUSEHUSBAND LIFE — hq men

haikyuu men as househusbands. or haikyuu men who’d be good househusbands in general.

— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ AKAASHI KEIJI !

he is the one who keeps track of finance in the house , keeps track of how much you should spend even if you get a six-sum salary and love spending it on him even if he doesn't like it because he wants you to save for the future.

he also pretty much cooks all sorts of dishes and morning tea made by him is served to you in bed , he is just the best. buys groceries when you're out to work , keeps the house neat and clean — it's a penthouse so it's not much work as it's not that dirty all the time — keeps track of your health and if you're pretty much not skipping breakfast or lunch cuz he's there to spoon feed you at dinner.

he's not much fan of laundry just knows he has to fold it and keep it neatly in your shared closet and is pretty much a the best husband of all ( according to your mother ).

— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ SUGAWARA KOUSHI !

he is that type of house-husband who actually takes care of the loundry more than cooking and cleaning but still cleans the house just the way you like it — organized and neatly done. he doesn't step in the kitchen for he knows he might burn whatever he cooks so you don't let him step in there , it's either you come home and cook but if your tired , it's take out time!

whenever he does laundry he has a habit of smelling the clothes before folding for he like the smell of the detergent you use and the clothing softener should be if the best company because that is kinda professional when you go to work wearing soft and clean clothes.

dusts around the house with music playing in the background and does all the cleaning while blasting Oliva Rodrigo on the amazon echo you brought so he won't have to go on connecting his phone to the Bluetooth other than that he is just the best husband you could ask for.

— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ KITA SHINSUKE !

he is the package , can cook , cleans , does laundry , keeps track of all budgets and savings , knows every nook and cranny of the house and is happy being a house-husband for you. kita buys the best clothing softener and detergent , is a man of his words for if he promises breakfast in bed for you then you get it.

he sets up the house according to a taste that suits him and you like almsot all the time after seeing it on pinterest — yes HE HAS PINTEREST and you can't change my mind — cooks the best meals like you're in heaven to be eating such delicious meals , laundry is done and the house smells like lavander and you don't know how he does that and he keep it a secret ( it's just him using scented house cleaning stuff ).

grocery shopping is done with you because it's to lonely for him to go out so it's shopping time on the weekends , he is like a stay at home mum but you love him and for god sake who wouldn't want a man like KITA SHINSUKE.

— ୨୧ ˖ ˚ YAMAGUCHI TADASHI !

you enter the house with the smell of the most delicious food being cooked and when I say delicious , it's over the top delicious. he loves cooking so much that he forgets he has to clean as well and do laundry. yamaguchi almost does everything before stepping into the kitchen and prepare a bento for you in the early morning with starting to think for dinner — even though lunch is not even thought out yet — and what to be baked when your home.

it may not seem like but he has a passion for baking good for you.

he blasts playlist made for him by you and tsukki , and does the cleaning and laundry because sometimes it's to lonely in the house , he keeps track of time and when you're gonna come so he could prepare a bubble bath and then start with the cooking so you could have been relaxed and come eat with him.

when it's a weekend , he wakes up late but the breakfast is in his hands to be cooked , and in the evening it's time for him and you to have a baking session and you cherish this baby more than anything.

NOIRFLMS 2024 ! all rights reserved - plagiarism is a crime , do not translate my works without permission.

[growingstories]

Office politics

Fresh out of college, Nathan had put on the dreaded "freshman 15". Despite this, he was in decent shape, with a nice chest although his six-pack had disappeared. He began working at a finance company where the CEO, a fit 40-year-old, stood out among the rest of the management team, who were 30 something men with big bellies. The only woman in the office was Linda, the assistant to the CEO. Nathan met Henry, a handsome guy with a strong chest and a belly, who had started working at the company three months prior, they were both 23 years old.

Henry warned Nathan about Linda's influence in the company. He advised him to do whatever Linda asked in order to secure nice clients and tasks that would lead to bonuses. Nathan took this advice to heart and decided to play by Linda's rules.

One day, Linda brought a big cake to the office, announcing that the winner would be rewarded with a new client. The junior co-workers enthusiastically dug in, with one big guy eating four slices and emerging victorious. Nathan was on a diet to lose the freshman 15 so skipped the cake and watched how all the men devoured the cake in a matter of seconds. Little did Nathan know, the CEO noticed that he had skipped the cake entirely and mentioned it to Linda.

The following day, Linda gave Nathan the tedious task of filing old reports, a long and lonely assignment. To alleviate the boredom, Linda brought him six donuts. Nathan, unable to resist, ate one. Linda soon found out he only ate one and punished him by assigning him even more archive tasks.

Linda continued her pattern of bringing in large amounts of food every day, including pizzas, cakes, and other tempting snacks. The employees who ate the most received better tasks and clients along with bonuses. Nathan often tried to resist the fattening snacks, feeling determined to stay in shape. However, Linda would bring in other snacks as punishment for him. In an effort to burn off the excess calories, Nathan started running every morning.

As weeks went on, Nathan found himself 10 pounds heavier, while Henry had gained double that amount. Linda began handing out late-night tasks and arranging dinners for the employees who stayed late as a punishment for not joining her food challenges. Surprisingly, these employees were the fittest in the office. On the third night, Linda surprised them by bringing in bowls of ice cream, warning them not to let it melt. Fearing longer nights with work, they quickly consumed the ice cream-filled bowls. Linda then walked in and told them to go home, praising their good work.

After weeks of late nights and indulging in rich food, even the typically fit employees began to gain weight. Nathan and Henry found themselves in a constant struggle, their clothes becoming too tight and their workouts becoming a thing of the past. They had no choice but to complain to the CEO, who gave them budget for new clothes instead of stopping the overflow of overfeeding. Feeling defeated, they both decided to go all in for the bonuses and began participating in the various food challenges Linda organized. As they became more successful, the bigger guys in the office grew jealous and started to eat even more. Linda brought in more challenges and new tasks with bonuses, leading them to gain even more weight.

The big bonuses were accompanied by even bigger food challenges. Nathan and Henry found themselves struggling with their weight, experiencing heavy breathing with every movement. Instead walking or biking to the office they frequently took the subway or a taxi. Especially in Summer to avoid sweating. Their focus on work and food left little time or energy for dating, resulting in pent-up desires and frustration. They also found how ruthless the gayscene was, both experienced fatfobic remarks from their dates.

One morning the agreed that it was too much. In an attempt to shed some pounds, Nathan tried to start a diet and wanted to put on his running shoes. He could hardly bend over as his belly was in the way, he had to catch his breath after the first shoe and struggled with his second. He did make it outside in his tight clothes. After 10 minutes the intense exercise began to take a toll on his knees, and he found himself taking an uber home. The same afternoon he went to the Nike store to get new workout clothes. Surprised that he almost was 3 sizes up. Back in the office he started complaining about his new size and his failed running attempt, he told Henry that he would go the the gym the next morning and built on some muscle mass. Linda, always attentive, heard his complaints and brought him protein shakes to support him in his workouts, instructing him to have three a day. After a few days of going to the gym and skipping food challenges he was only getting bigger and found his new gym shirts also getting tighter. He was convinced that it was the laundry and that his muscles were growing. He started to feel more confident again.

Nathan continued with his dieting and his gym visits. Linda showed up with shakes and bars. Nathan found food wrappers from weight gain bars hidden away. While Nathan had become stronger, he realized he had also grown fatter. Meanwhile, Henry had taken up flirting at the office with growing Nathan seeking companionship beyond the office walls. He complemented Nathan on his new bulk. Nathan liked this and continued this pattern of gym and fattening bars.

Henry and Nathan found solace in each other and started dating. The had amazing sex and found a shared passion for nice restaurant and good food. The fact that both lost their once athletic looks didn’t bother them. They decided to abandon their diets altogether and began indulging in more food challenges, resulting in increased weight gain but also big bonuses they were sharing. Surprisingly, this made them Linda's favorites as they eagerly participated in these challenges, earning big bonuses. With their weight gain, they encountered more difficulties in their sexual encounters, struggling with positions and heavy breathing. Despite this, they continued to grow closer, engaging in intimate encounters both in and out of the office and agreed to stop seeing others.

Unbeknownst to the couple, the CEO started flirting with them individually. Confused, yet intrigued, Nathan and Henry decided to see where this newfound attention would lead. During a dinner invitation from the CEO, they were individually treated to a massive feast, where they ate to their heart's content and indulged in drinks until they could no longer move. By the end of the night, they agreed to explore a more intimate relationship together. The day following, they were rewarded with a big new and client a huge bonus. This pattern continued for the next few weeks, with their weight steadily increasing alongside their. earnings They continued their sexual encounters with the CEO both in and out of the office. They both were open about it to eachother and promised to share their money.

One fateful encounter, the CEO accidentally stumbled upon Nathan and Henry in the middle of their intimate moment. Rather than being angry or disappointed, the CEO invited them both to his home for another extravagant dinner. With each bite, they were stuffed beyond their limits, but their arousal only grew. That night, the three of them engaged in an intimate encounter, deepening their connection.

The following day, the CEO informed Nathan and Henry of their big promotion to the management team. They were given their own proteges to mentor and were assigned their own projects. The CEO revealed his secret to success: the bigger their employees became, the more bonuses they would receive. Inspired, Nathan and Henry continued to encourage their staff to indulge in the excessive food challenges, while they themselves continued their encounters with the CEO at his home. Their weight continued to skyrocket as they partook in more and more stuffing sessions.

[mesomorphic]

Astrology observations part 2

Hope yall are well!!

Taurus Risings tend to have such control over people, which isn't malicious but can be if they want.(maybe people are enamored because ya know, venus, but it's always so fascinating to see)

Leo Sun with Virgo moon are prone to overworking themselves, y'all need to give a break to yourself!!

I find scorpio rising in composite chart as a power couple (other placements matter!!!) due to their undying loyalty to each other and support, water sign risings on top yall.

Sagittarius Moons are more chaotic than sagittarius suns

If you think about it, water placements and earth placements in a chart can indicate someone being able to cook or learn to cook properly.

Earth placements (specifically capricorn which rules money as well as taurus and virgo which rules service) are very good at budgeting and making amazing meals!!

Pisces placements (Pisces sun men especially) make themselves the victims very often in situations where they are the literal cause of problem.

Having neptune in the first house is so weird, because why do people be projecting stuff onto me, when I have the stuff they wanna have like calm down man Jesus.

The 2nd house representing finances, having outer planets like neptune, uranus, pluto can cause some disturbances, yet it can give you unexpected blessings, for example, uranus in the 2nd house would give you a "freedom" type of attitude towards money, spend it where ever, money doesn't control you, which leads to losing your money easily, yet it can give you unexpected money from anywhere. Its quite fun I can't lie.

Fire sun sometimes need an ego check, and I ain't looking at Leo's this time 🙄. (Aries, get your shit together, please)

Scorpio risings need to catch a break for really yall, why does trauma think your their best friend 😭🙏🏼

Jupiter in the 10th house ain't always a blessing yall, too much attention can cause your personal life to not be so personal anymore!

Okay that's all, I need to do my work. See yall later

Meso

[idiaa-shroxd]

while working on reqs. here’s a little brainrot bubble. I think it’s be funny if instead of us getting Isekai’d the twenty two boys at entrance ceremony find themselves Isekai’d into your “mysterious” house that you inherited from a grandparent after you touch a mirror that had a cloth covering. Imagine teaching them about technology and try to convince these people to stay sane while in each other’s faces for almost twenty four hours a day, especially since some of them just met and got sorted into dorms. I just had the thought of do these men have airplanes in their world? and it kind of evolved to this.

Like Diasomnia on edge at first with Silver and Sebek trying to guard Malleus as Lilia listens to you and your explanation deeming you no threat. Malleus is simply happy he was invited or included with everyone when they were teleported. In Savanaclaw they all still have their beastmen features so you’re pleading with this stranger to not leave and go outside and cause trouble and this lion man is like… if you insist, while being smug. Totally acts like he is pitiful if you ask for help because he is stuck indoors. Floyd is having the time of his life, he will gnaw on furniture, as Jade is a bit more grounded but follow’s Azul’s lead as he tries to convince you to turn your house into a business as you deny.

Ignihyde has Idia and his brother and you’re thinking what a cute robot before he shoots a laser at a bug and you think that is enough for today. You eventually let all the boys live in your grandpa’s old home since it were rather large.. and magic is convenient. They can easily clean up the place and some are eager to learn about your world. You went from a normal life alone to living a life with a whole lot of boys.

Some of them do chores, like Trey, Jade, Jamil, who are the main chefs, while others such as Ruggie and Rook handle the laundry. Azul, Jade and Floyd handle your budgeting and monthly finances. You are not sure how but the money they give as “rent” increases per month. Vil and Idia have picked up youtube and streaming respectively, Idia being a vtuber and Vil having a channel that does a variety of content. Both are surprisingly popular. Vil also helps you renovate the interior design and Idia + Ortho handle all the machines and wifi. Some do odd jobs on occasion around the place like Ace, Epel, Lilia, some do hard lifting and collecting firewood like Jack and Sebek. Others such as Riddle and Cater can set the table, sweep up and check in on you. Some are freeloaders such as Leona, Malleus, and Kalim.

You figured things would be dysfunctional at first since your newfound boys weren’t allowed outside of your house, in fact are physically incapable of leaving your property, but they all managed to fit right in snuggly. Honestly, you couldn’t imagine just how hard life would be without them. You start working from home as your grandpa’s business is also passed down to you, even though you are a grossly underqualified child- claiming to be told old to keep up as he leaves to traveling the world after meeting the boys once. He doesn’t freak out and just go “:P forgot to tell you.”

You find their magic interesting. You also find out your grandpa has a lot of secrets. He can’t return them (much to their disappoint but later they could not care less they won’t return) but he can at least help out with some ancient books passed down about the great seven themselves, helping the Octatrio stay in human form. You also find some of them demanding, Floyd and Kalim almost always clinging to your arms as you try to work.

Sometimes you wake up to arguments, a chair may be flying, literally. Another time you awoke to a crying grey cat with ears of fire, trying to scratch at you. Hearing your scream Riddle and Azul came to your rescue, but you quickly told them not to be mean to a kitty, keeping him and naming him Grim.. seems like your home has gotten a new member, again.

Idia seems much more willing to leave his room when you mention getting a cat. Ace looks slight annoyed that you get to keep a fire producing cat but he could not keep a bear that Rook found? You were completely unfair. Meanwhile Riddle is ready to collar the cat for existing because he found a tart of his being eaten by the cat. You barely contained his rage, everyone lived another day.

Overall a chaotic household you now have.

a fun concept to play with? I’m a fan of the “inherits some mysterious magic object” trope and wanted to toy around with it a bit. i also had thoughts like my yuu would 100% be nicer to them than they are to us and give them a place to actually stay than kicking them to the curb like a certain Ramshackle building.

©idiaa-shroxd. do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or use my works to train ai.

[quill-and-chalk]

The difference between Dropout and The Watcher is A. Dropout is actually offering a service that is just not possible on YouTube. Their sets and guests make sense for a company their size but like you couldn’t produce Game Changers on a YouTube budget. Also the content would probably be censored to make ad revenue on YouTube.

The Watcher can 100% be made on a YouTube budget. Unless finances are being grossly mishandled. They should be able to make the content they are making.

B. Dropout is all shows made by the same company, like Disney plus, but unlike Disney it’s very clear that this LARGE group of creative and talented people are essentially given the tools to create their dream projects. That’s an amazing thing and it shows in the quality of the work. Dude I don’t care about three random men that much.

C. Dropout filled a niche. Watcher content was good because of the YouTube limitations not despite of it. Dropout provided comedy content that just couldn’t exist on a free platform anymore and no other place was doing. If I wanted ‘TV show’ level production of any of the Watcher content I could find it… for free. (Think any ghost hunting show, Guys Drive in and Dives, any true crime show)

[gentlemanclub1]

The Psychology of Spending

Introduction: Picture this: you walk into a store with a clear intention to buy just one item, but you leave with a cart full of things you never planned to purchase. Sound familiar? You’re not alone. Impulse buying is a psychological phenomenon that affects us all to some degree. However, by understanding the psychology behind our spending habits, we can empower ourselves to make smarter…

[selfishlove-tf]

5th Annual TF Story Exchange - for Jockifyme

G’day :) I wanted to challenge myself so I entered the TF Story Exchange to force myself to write something. The author I got for the exchange was @jockifyme​ so please enjoy. I hope I met your requirements @jockifyme​ .

***---***

I’m an accountant and sometimes we audit High Schools. We make sure that the donations or funds received go places they should be going to, we check payroll and budget; we call it “cash stuff” in the office because “expenses” and “finances” start confusing our smaller-minded Gen Z workers.

From that “defame our younger generation” comment alone, you should be able to tell that I am older – not too much but I feel myself reaching the other end of my thirties really quickly. Luckily, the stresses of older age haven’t touched me too much; I have my curly brown hair, though it is fading in colour just like my eyes which used to be emerald, now swamp. Got my height from my mum, she was six-three and she gave me my current six-one. Got my metabolism (or lack thereof) from my dad whose genes garunteed no weight would be gained – I was skinny, a measly one-forty pounds.

The lights in the schools office behind reception showed my touch-of-sunburn off more than I wanted to, my skin naturally pale like a ghost flared up with areas of red where I misapplied my sunscreen. I, however, didn’t feel the burn so the sun must’ve been somewhat lacklustre that day. Sunburn was the last thing on my mind anyway. Numbers, numbers, numbers. I enjoyed the numbers and I did well in maths back when I was in school some blah blah blah years ago – I’d rather not say how long – and was in the top ten of students in my school who graded highly during the final exams before graduation. The only part I hated was listening to the administration guy who lightly flirted with the teachers as they walked by. They couldn’t see it but the “that dress fits nice on you” and “did you forget your glasses because those eyes are shining today” commends he has said in the past ten minutes were dangerously close to the line of being fired should someone actually pay attention to him.

I continued my counts and record-checking and, soon enough, the admin guy was talking to me about football. I never got into that kind of thing, my focus was more on work and work and work. I didn’t need to watch a bunch of men running into each other, the idea was stupid to me. Yet, despite my disinterest in the topic, the admin guy continued to drone on about it.

I looked at my watch; I had only been here for an hour. All the kids were in their classes so, gladly, I decided to quickly take a break and get a drink. Stupidly, I forgot my water bottle and I didn’t want to deal with more dead conversation from the admin guy and, as I recalled, I remembered there being a bubbler/water fountains near the building facing the oval. With a quick “I’ll be back” to the admin guy, and a swift exit, I was out the door and headed towards the oval, a quick hello and hi to some teachers passing or students that were supposed to be in class. Reaching the bubbler, there was footsteps nearby and voices loudly talking. I leaned down, pulled the lever and started drinking, footsteps getting closer. The closer it got, the more I heard the topic of conversation.

‘I don’t know what we’re gonna do, man,’ one started. ‘Tyler’s out for the game tonight and we got no backup since Harry left.’

‘Cool it, Reid!’ another cut the first off. ‘We’ll find someone or deal with a short team no matter what coach says.’

‘Yeah, but where are we gonna find something so short notice, Jay?’ A third asked. I had become invested in the conversation that I didn’t realise that they were now walking behind me as I was still drinking from the bubbler until they stopped.

‘How about you?’ Jay asked.

It took me a minute to realise he was talking to me. I stopped drinking and turned around and was greeted by four teens in football gear. ‘You talking to me?’

‘We are looking at you,’ pointed the fourth.

‘Smart kid, though I don’t go here clearly.’ I gestured to my whole figure, hoping they weren’t dumb enough to think I was any younger than thirty-five.

‘Not a problem with us.’ Jay, who I assumed was the leader, stepped forward. ‘I’m Jay, and these are my bros Reid, Mikey and Kyle.’ He gestured to his friends as if I was interested in knowing them. Jay was short, wide and brunette; Reid was tall, thin and blonde; Mikey was tall, tan and built; Kyle was the shortest, brunette and athletic. The group did seem like the perfect popular boys of school, they just lacked more arrogance.

‘How would you expect to fix that?’ I questioned. ‘Compared to you guys, I’m weathered. Y’all haven’t even touched hard work yet.’ That comment seemed to irritate Reid, subtly puffing his chest up.

‘Hard work? Football is full time!’ Reid arched up.

‘Reid, not another word,’ Jay snapped. ‘You’ll only scare him away, and we’re already about to get scary.’

‘Oh, I’m shaking.’ I teased before rolling my eyes and started walking back to the office.

‘Take him,’ I heard Jay mutter.

Soon, three pairs of hands were on me and started to pull at me, dragging me in the opposite direction. I started shouting to let me go and, for a moment I thought why it was suddenly so quiet at the school; no students or teachers were walking by and no one seemed to look out the windows at the commotion I was causing. No matter how much I shouted and wriggled, the guys’ strong hands had firm grips. I looked behind me to where they were dragging me and found that they were taking me to the locker rooms. They barged in, pushed me to the bench and sat me down, Reid and Kyle holding me down while Mikey went off to grab something.

‘We’re gonna make sure you’re ready for the game tonight,’ Jay said matter-of-factly.

Mikey returned with football gear which I began to question myself about how stupid they really are. Jay motioned to Reid and Kyle as Mikey came to stand behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. Without warning, Reid and Kyle started to pull at my clothes, tearing my button up off and yanking my shoes off before pulling off my pinstripes. I tried to fight back with all of my strength but Mikey was stronger than he looks, making sure to hold me in place during the process. At the end of it, I was left in my briefs.

‘Let me go you freaks!’ I shouted. ‘I don’t know what you plan on doing but it needs to end now!’

Jay motioned to the football uniform and gear and Kyle and Reid moved almost immediately. Reid began with what looked like compression shorts, sliding them up my legs until they were on properly. I felt immediate embarrassment being dressed as if I couldn’t do it myself. When the compression shorts snapped into place, my legs felt like they were burning although bearable. No sooner did my legs start burning that Kyle had put on long socks and oversized football boots, and the burning spread down until it reached my feet. My whole lower half was on fire and, sure enough, when I looked down, I saw why. My thighs started to plump up, calves sharpening and I felt my toes touch the end of the boot. Soon as that began, Reid grabbed a compression singlet and slid it over my head and over my torso, Kyle soon following with the shoulder pads.

I was panicked, my whole body starting to feel like I’d worked out for hours, and my body was catching up. My torso bulked up, a bit of muscle showing as my chest puffed up and my biceps blew up. My flexed forearms had a roadmap of veins as my increasingly meaty hands gripped firmly on the bench. I was beginning to tire myself out through all the strain and flexing I was doing due to the pain of the growth. At some point, Jay told Mikey to let me go because he knew I wasn’t going anywhere, not that I could because of the amount of pain I was in.

Soon enough, as it had started to die down, I looked over myself while out of breath and saw how toned I got. I was in shock; something completely impossible just happened. When I looked up to the group, there was glee in their eyes, but mine saw red. I had no energy to do anything, though, exhausted from the growth.

‘What the fuck did you do?’ I gasped between breaths.

‘It’s not over,’ Jay said. ‘Look at me.’

He grabbed my chin and lifted my face to look at him directly in the eyes. He smiled before swiping some black paint onto my cheeks, and then he let go of my chin and stepped back. There was a brief moment where nothing happened, but it hit seconds later. I gripped my head and squeezed my eyes shut as images flashed across my vision of school, football, training, hanging out with the bros. Bros? No, I was an adult. I was here for an audit. No, that doesn’t sound right? I was on the oval with my bros talking about the game. No! The admin guy, we were talking about football while I was doing work… work? No, I was skipping class. My brain went back and forth and soon enough, the school-kid persona was taking over. All the games my bros and I played, the games we won and the after-parties we went to. My body, face, and mind were all getting younger. My hair turned a darker brown, keeping the curls, and my eyes had regained their shining emerald green. My sunburn cleared up and my skin looked tanned from spending weeks in the sun. Although keeping the muscle on, my body shrank a little and smoothed out. After all of a few minutes, my head cleared and my body no longer felt like it was burning. I felt completely painless, in fact, I had a lot of energy.

‘You good, Jack?’ asked Reid.

I looked up at the group, a brief pause before nodding my head. ‘Still mad Tyler can’t make it.’

‘Well, we gotchu at least,’ Mikey pointed out. ‘We’ll sure win tonight.’

‘We always win, bros!’

‘That’s the spirit!’ Jay cheered. ‘Now let’s get practicing! Don’t forget your jersey, Jack.’

I looked down at the bench where my jersey was. I grabbed it and slipped it on, unknowingly sealing the transformation. ‘Do we gotta wear the shoulder pads during training?’ I complained.

‘Shut up and get out there!’

[rad-claid-plaid]

I think that most men who are "financially clueless" and just go "oopsie sorry I know we had rent to pay but I just dropped $1500 on a new toy I wanted. It's your job to figure it out" aren't really financially illiterate. They seem to do that knowing fully that they don't have the financial means to do it, but then just demand the woman in their life fixes it.

He's saying, "I made a decision. I expect you to fix this by suffering yourself." So the woman goes without healthcare or food for herself and her children to try to fix the finances. If she complains, then it's *her* fault for not budgeting better or making sure he is aware of the finances (spoiler alert, he's well aware, he just doesn't care). She's expected to sell her jewelry or her car to keep the house, just because he wanted a toy. It's another shade of financial control.

[mariacallous]

You cannot understand the failure of Conservative rule unless you accept that we are living with the failure of honestly held Conservative beliefs. The UK is in crisis, not because Tories are criminals or charlatans or fools, although they can be all of these things, but because they tried to govern according to their sincerely held beliefs and sent us into a deep crisis.

I accept that this is a hard concession for the government’s opponents to make. They like to think of Conservatives as crooks. And they are right in part. The Tory administration from 2010 to the present, which offers peerages for £3 million to passing bidders, has been the most corrupt government of the modern era.

Why, then, pay these crooks the courtesy of taking them seriously?

Meanwhile, those of us brought up in the British class system have a second reason for refusing to offer Conservatives the smallest mercy.

David Cameron, George Osborne, Boris Johnson, Rishi Sunak, and, for a while, their Liberal sidekick Nick Clegg, fit our resentful image of dilettantish public-school boys: foppish wreckers, who do not care about the damage they inflict as long as they can stay at the top of the heap.

I have lost count of the number of times anti-Tory columnists have reached for F. Scott Fitzgerald’s lines from the Great Gatsby to describe our rulers.

“They were careless people, Tom and Daisy – they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.”

There is a terrific piece in the current edition of the New Yorker  on fin de regime UK by Sam Knight. Without endorsing the notion that we have been ruined by dilettantes, his interviewees provide plenty of evidence to support it. 

“It’s all about constantly drawing dividing lines,” a former Conservative party strategist told him. “That’s all you need. It’s not about big ideological debates or policies or anything.” 

“He is not a Brexiteer,” George Osborne said of Boris Johnson. “I really would go to my grave saying, deep down, Boris Johnson did not want to leave the E.U”.

Knight himself, while never losing sight of the suffering austerity brought, says that the best way to think about the ruling politics of the past 14 years is to see it as a “psychodrama enacted, for the most part, by a small group of middle-aged men who went to élite private schools, studied at the University of Oxford, and have been climbing and chucking one another off the ladder of British public life” ever since.

Clearly, there is truth in this. But we will not save the country merely by replacing upper-class chancers with middle-class moralists.

However satisfying a rhetorical tactic, dismissing you opponents as liars and crooks misses that they can be far more dangerous when they are wholly in earnest. As the Conservatives were when they were at their most destructive.

The damage austerity caused to schools, local authorities, the criminal justice system and national defence (a subject, incidentally, we should worry more about given Russia’s aggression) flowed from the authentic Conservative belief that lower rates of taxation produced economic growth.

There is a strong link between Liz Truss and George Osborne.  

The 2010 Cameron government cold-bloodedly refused to take advantage of a once-in-300-years opportunity to borrow to invest in infrastructure at next-to-zero interest rates.

Instead, it paid off the debt accrued in the finance crisis by cutting public expenditure rather than raising taxes. 

Do not underestimate the extremism that followed.

The Office for Budget Responsibility said of the period up to 2018

“In the 12 years from the outbreak of the global financial crisis in 2007-08 the UK public finances will have suffered their largest peacetime shock in living memory, followed – on current policy – by one of the biggest deficit reduction programmes seen in any advanced economy since World War II.”

From Osborne to Truss, Conservatives genuinely believed that low taxes would produce economic growth, and they have never had a programme to turn to when their strategy failed.

As we can now see.

Knight cites some horrendous figures.

Between 2010 and 2018, funding for police forces in England fell by up to a quarter. Officers stopped investigating burglaries. Only four per cent now end in prosecution. In 2021, the median time between a rape offense and the completion of a trial reached more than two and a half years. In 2023, hundreds of school buildings had to be closed for emergency repairs, because the country’s school-construction budget had been cut by forty-six per cent between 2009 and 2022.

I could go on.  But the point worth noticing is that at all times between 2010 and 2016 Osborne’s austerity programme had the full support of the Tory press, Tory donors and Tory MPs, and many of them went on to support Liz Truss in 2022.

There is an effort underway to rewrite the Conservatives' time in power. The period from 2010 to 2016 is presented as an era of moderate conservatism ruined by the aberrations of Johnson and Truss. In truth, the continuity is more striking than the change.

The result of 14-years of Conservative rule is the wrecking of the public sector combined with the highest taxes the UK has experienced since 1945.

 As policy wonks now joke in their rip-roaring way, the British used to want American levels of taxes and European levels of public service.  Now they have American levels of public service with European levels of tax.

The fiscal room for manoeuvre of the next Labour government has already been curtailed. It will not have pots of money to bail out local authorities, universities and the court system, to pick just three of the many deserving cases.

It will have to encourage growth

Economically, the quickest way to do it is to rejoin the EU.  But politically it is a nightmare, I agree with George Osborne that Boris Johnson didn’t believe in Brexit. I wrote in 2016 that going with the Brexit campaign was the smart move for a charlatan on the make.

But fascinating though the speculations about the court politics of the 2010s are, they have no relevance to the urgent need to halt the UK’s decline by rejoining the EU.

We can’t because of the tyranny of the anti-European minority, which unlike Boris Johnson, has an authentic belief in Brexit.

Indeed, so great is the minority’s power, British politics does not even talk about Brexit. It is as if, as George Osborne says, we are in the old Soviet Union and essential questions cannot be debated for fear of offending the ruling ideology.

Most people now regard Brexit as a mistake.  But then there are the Brexit diehards, who so resemble 20th century communists when they insist that Brexit has not failed, but simply has not been properly tried yet.  Beyond them, are those who think that Brexit went fine, or who don’t want to reopen the question, or don’t care about our economic fortunes.

Under our electoral system, a dedicated minority can have real power. The majority of Labour voters support rejoining the EU, but they will vote Labour whatever European policy the party puts forward. A minority of pro-Brexit voters may even now turn away from Labour if it supports Europe, however, and lose them seats in the north of England. (Or at least that is what the party believes.)

 Labour politicians feel they must wait until an overwhelming majority of the population realise that Brexit was a monumental blunder.

If only the Tories had just been a bunch of crooks. They would have stolen some money but that would have been the end of it.

As it is, it will take us years to recover from their sincerely held beliefs. Assuming, that is, we recover at all.

[painted-bees]

You said Magritte's dad is an undiagnosed ADHD who spent his whole life raised thinking he was neurotypical though he's probably never even heard that word before like everybody else, right?

Ik this is just wishful thinking for the most part but.. do you think he ever does find out at some point? Maybe in his elderly years when Mag finally tells her parents (once she accepts) that she has it when they all thought for years that she didn't?

Also! Are there any particular traits that he shares with Mag or her sister? Maybe stuff that his wife recognised or gets annoyed by but always brushed off or never gave much thought to?

Sorry if my way of phrasing any of this sounds weird but I am genuinely curious about this. (been pondering it for months now).

If he was ever gonna reflect on/consider his own potential of having ADHD, he prolly would have sat with those thoughts already. But it is likely that there's a bit of that ol' boomer generation pride/egotism that gets in the way of him admitting that anything he's gone through has been any greater of a struggle than what "normal"/neurotypical folks experience.

Like Margie, he hyperfixates/focuses on the things that interest him. Unlike Margie, the things that interest him are all very practical and acceptable as avenues to dump all your time and energy into; maths, sciences, business/budgeting/saving. He likes making and managing his finances. he likes the mind of work he gained employment in. He did well in the classes that "mattered" [english, lit, the arts--were all his weakest subjects.]

His wife definately wishes that he spent a little more time being present with her, and doing the things she likes with her--instead of only ever participating in the kinds of activities he enjoys. I think she just assumes it's cuz he's a man, and men are just Like That.

I think he didn't really entertain the idea that he had ADHD largely because Margie's sister was so hyperactive--and neither he nor Margie suffered that symptom to that same degree. Margie's sister struggled with hyperactivity and disruptive behaviour a -lot- growing up.

Funnily enough, I think even his kids would be resistant to the idea that their dad has ADHD--because he's done so well at work, and seems to have no trouble with learning courses and the like. He's always harped on a lot about hard work and discipline...the most important thing he wanted to instill in his kids was a good work ethic and having a sense of pride in whatever tasks they performed.

[hyenahunt]

Saga: Rivals - 21

Writer: Akira

Season: Winter

Characters: Jun, Hiyori, Seiya, Jin, Mika, Madara, Akiomi, Sora

Proofreading: 310mc (JP) & hyenahunt (ENG)

Translation: kotofucius

Akiomi: Ahaha… Oh, how I wish you'd told me that much sooner.

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Location: Reverse Live Stage

Time: Hours later. Reverse Live, at the start of the second day.

Jun: “♪~♪~♪”

“Lilith! The original heretic! The revolutionary who spoke against God’s deception when none dared to!”

Hiyori: “Lilith! The mother of humanity, flung into the depths of Hell! How she screamed of love and sang of hope, no matter how far she fell!”

Seiya: “Lilith! That is who we are! Buried in the depths of history, we are the true idols, long forgotten by the world!”

Hiyori: “How long it has been! How I waited to meet you again! In the darkness, you were the only light I could see!”

Seiya: “I love you! I’ve loved you since this world came to be!”

Jun: “Destiny split us apart, and yet, we’ve been brought together once more!”

Hiyori: “Never shall we part again! Your warmth is forever ours!”

Jun: “Now, let us embrace! Let us love together, even if the very world forbids it!”

Seiya: “We are Lilith! It is to love you that we’ve arrived…!”

“♪~♪~♪”

Jin: …Ooh, how passionate. Or maybe over-the-top. Kinda like Valkyrie, actually.

Mika: Hey, you ain't ever gonna catch us sayin' love, love, love over an’ over like that! We’re passionate but artistic! Even if we’re speakin’ about love, we’d be a lot more subtle 'bout it.

Madara: Hahaha. It does seem like a refined… or rather, popularized version of Valkyrie’s methods.

They’ve got extravagant production for their stage too, probably thanks to the big shots all wanting to suck up to Hidaka Seiya —

So, their melodramatic lines suit the atmosphere, actually.

But unlike Shu-san, they’re not drowning in their own world. Instead, they're opening it up to the public; they gaze into their audience’s eyes and actively pull them in.

Akiomi: Lilith… I’d been wary of what tactics they might use, but they've been taking an unexpectedly materialistic and straight-forward approach.

They maximized the promotion, stage production, and everything else they could; and even shamelessly used Hidaka-daisenpai’s fame to call in an army of fans.

War is essentially about numbers. With everything so perfectly coordinated like this, well, there's no way to fight back through ordinary means.

Hidaka-daisenpai has truly made the most out of his advantage as an active, highly popular, professional idol.

He is on a completely different level from us, who finance our own small-scale concerts within the confines of an idol training school.

Even budget-wise, he definitely has one or two more zeros on us, I'm sure.

Madara: Hahaha. Especially when we as Ba-barrier don’t really have that much work, so we have no funds for battle, either…

We've turned our lack of cohesion into our selling point, making a novel show with each of our unique charms and gaining an upper hand that way.

In other words, we resort to clever schemes to put up a semblance of fight, so we’re at a disadvantage against planned head-on attacks.

Mika: …They’re so vulgar. I don’t reckon I like ‘em. They’re totally different from Valkyrie, 'kay?

Sora: HaHa~♪ Yep, totally different!

Valkyrie paints a single color over and over until it reaches a density no one can reproduce —

But Lilith kinda takes a bucket of paint and goes “splash!” with it, I guess~?

…And by spilling that much paint, they erase all the other colours.

Jin: Ooh~… I thought I heard grumbling. Turns out it was the defeated Akiyan and his merry men.

Akiomi: You're truly something… We're your good rivals and comrades from the same school, who have been supporting you this whole time both behind the scenes and out in the open — Is that any way to talk to us?

Madara: Hahaha. I’ve got no comeback since we did lose spectacularly last night!

Smashed to smithereens, in a most dramatic death! If Rain-bows are rainbows, then we must be fleeting fireworks!

Mika: Why're ya havin’ so much fun even though we lost, Mikejima-senpai?

Madara: Well, when the opponent did such a fine job in gaining the upper hand on us, the loss felt conversely exhilarating, see!

I quite enjoy defeat, actually! Especially when it’s the result of an all-out fight!

Mika: I can’t understand that feelin’…

Valkyrie an' Lilith are totally different, but fer some reason it jus' reminded me of the time when fine kicked us down.

Madara: Hmm. Their methods indeed resemble that of the former fine…

If there's a quantifiable way to win, then pouring all you possess will bring definite victory.

In the war last year, Eichi-san used all the lofty assets available to him to invent a game board that worked to his advantage.

Well, he was only making the most of his perks as a rich heir with money and authority… so it wasn’t exactly a low move.

Akiomi: Hmm. In this case, all participating units are new groups formed specifically for Project-Saga…

More often than not, it’s the audience’s first time seeing them.

As it’s hard to tell everyone apart at a glance, Lilith ends up standing out due to their expensive costume and production. Their lavish extravagance only makes them all the more eye-catching to the audience.

Not to mention, the famous Hidaka Seiya is in the group. That’s more than enough name and power.

Though yes, of course, these things don’t decide the entire value of an idol.

But under these circumstances, it becomes a challenge to even put up a fight. Without a good strategy on your side, they'll simply overpower you.

Madara: Wow, how ruthless! I guess miracles don’t happen all the time! Hahaha☆

Mika: Seriously, why d’ya look like yer havin' the time of yer life? I’m right frustrated, personally~ Unlike you, Mikejima-senpai, I ain't a fan of losing!

Madara: Alright! Let’s turn that frustration into motivation, then! We might’ve lost yesterday, but let's win today!

Liltih may have wiped the floor with us, but we're steadily winning against all the other units we’re up against! We still have a chance!

Akiomi: That's right. The rule isn’t as simple as retiring with one defeat.

While we’re nowhere as active as Rain-bows, we're still one of the most senior players of Project-Saga —

As a result, we've amassed fans through all our activities. We won't lose so easily to newbie units.

Sora: Yeah! Schemes and tricks are Sora's specialty~ Magic exists for the oppressed minority!

Even if the conformist majority closes in on us, we'll sidestep them and make a miracle happen!

Mika: Ahaha. Everyone in Ba-barrier's so tough an' dependable~ ♪

Jin: Haha. Who'd have thought you'd get along so well, Akiyan?

You’re definitely having fun being an idol, aren’tcha? Unlike me, you retired with regrets.

Akiomi: On the contrary, I have left my regrets behind.

We had accomplished our role with the success of Rainbow Stage, so we could’ve dispersed right then and there…

But that performance garnered us a good reputation, with many fans requesting that we continue…

And I thought we might come in handy someday, so I continued on with Ba-barrier.

Compared to the other Mentors out there, I am a level below them in terms of achievements, so I did have my reservations. But well, I’ve always been the shameless sort, anyway.

Jin: Really? You’re more competitive than shameless, in my opinion… The more people look down on you, the more you fight back to prove 'em wrong.

I’ve always admired that side of you since long ago.

Akiomi: Ahaha… Oh, how I wish you'd told me that much sooner.

Jin. We are giving our all just to hold our current position; I do not believe we’ll have the leisure to protect you.

However, you are the main character of Project-Saga, so by all means, find a way out of this predicament with your own two hands.

Lilith may prove to be a much stronger opponent than we thought, but if it's you, then surely you'll be the one to win — I’ll say this even without anything to back it up, just as I did in the past.

Jin: Thanks. I think having you there to always tell me that… was what helped me to hold out much longer than I would've on my own.

[ ☆ ]

✦✦✦✦✦

← prev ✦ all ✦ next →