#i logically knew that nothing would really change in the legendary edition but i had hoped

[vulpixelates]

mass effect, my beloved (derogatory)

[antiquechampagne]

Antique Champagne - CH37 - Third Wheel

Hancock made good on his word a few days later. It took about that long to collect enough booze and chems to throw a nice-sized party with Nate and Kent as the special guests of honor, highlighting the work they both did in helping secure Goodneighbor.

Even before he made it down the stairs at The Third Rail, Hancock was on the lookout. Payne had been around him long enough to notice when her boss was on the prowl; holding curious glances longer, pulling in for longer embraces and pouring on his legendary saucy one-liners. It wasn’t long before people were dancing and carousing raucously. As the hours crept into the single digits many of the partygoers started to staggering home. Hancock, on the other hand, had used his time to narrow down the likely candidates for some private fun to a beefy caravan guard who seemed open to getting his own private late night ‘tour’.

By the time Hancock was hanging off the lug’s thick arms and plopping his hat over the man’s mess of ashy blond hair, Payne knew it would only be a matter of time before the pair made their way upstairs. At least she hoped they would wait until they got that far… Hancock wasn’t particularly picky about privacy when he got like this. She didn’t fancy having to ignore Ham’s icy glare if they ducked into the Rail’s ratty bathrooms. Luckily, with a little nudging, they made it up to Hancock’s bedroom. Payne confiscated any weapons and then Hancock closed the door behind them, playfully goosing the guard along the way.

Payne pulled up a chair in the foyer of the spiral staircase, propped her feet up on the railing and pulled out the latest edition of Publick Occurrences. She was close enough to the door to respond if called, but strategically out of the way. Normally, Payne found night like these to be extremely boring, but compared to the being shot at, an easy night’s work. Reading normally helped to keep her entertained but awake while Hancock amused himself in the other room. Tonight though, it seemed a different story. Payne found herself constantly distracted, keyed into every laugh, half-muted word and creak of furniture coming from the other side of the door. Stories of crooked politicians and paranoid rants about sinister Institute infiltrators paled in comparison to the lurid fiction her head dreamed up as her mind connected the dots between the sounds.

Unconsciously, Payne lowered the paper, her eyes staring through the space it had been, her focus nailed to the chorus coming from inside the bedroom. Slowly, she could hear the pace of things pick up, groans mixing in with slaps on top of other rude noises. Hot blood rushed around her body as her heart rate involuntarily quickened, even though she sat frozen in place. The part of her mind not mesmerized by the show puzzled over her body’s response. How many other times had she been in this same exact position? She had never reacted this way, becoming a nervous transfixed semi-voyeur. The logical part screamed at her primal reaction, at war with itself and confused… all while she sat; eyes forward, body taught, her body tightly tying itself in knots.

Finally, after a few loud bangs, the sounds quieted, leaving Payne anxious and unsettled, perched precariously in her rickety wooden chair. She tried a few deep breaths to calm herself, which backfired as soon as the door cracked open.

“Hey, Payne?” Hancock’s scared bald head poked out from the darkness. The slice of light from the foyer crossed his naked chest, the rest of him disappearing into the darkness of the bedroom. “Can you get us a coupla’ cans of water and some Day Tripper? You know where it is, right?” Payne nodded her head. “Oh, and some smokes? Just leave’em by the door.” Again, Payne nodded, trying not to stare while her eyes traced down Hancock’s torso and into the shadows beyond the door. Mercifully, Hancock gave his own nod and retreated into the room, closing the door behind him.

Getting up, Payne passed by a bank of tall windows. A cool breeze crept in from assorted cracked panes, shocking her warm skin. Giving up on her assigned quest, she pushed open the window, bathing herself in the chilled night air. Below her, the street was empty and silent, apart from the occasional Watchman on patrol, their steps echoing off the buildings. Payne waited the chill to quench her heat when she heard footsteps padding the wooden floor behind her. Turning, she came face to face with barely a dressed ghoul.

“Hey,” Hancock leaned casually against the railing across from her. Payne couldn’t help but notice how the only thing he was wearing, an unbutton pair of light linen pants, barely clung curves of his narrow hips. Payne stammered something, quickly looking at the floor.

“You okay? You’re looking a little…” his fingers motioned to his eyes, “hungry, maybe?”

Payne’s pulse jumped. SHIT! “Yeah. Sorry, boss,” she muttered, embarrassed by her obvious unprofessionalism. Her distraction must have been written all over her face.

“Well, there are a few blood packs in the office. Once you grab my stuff, take it easy. This guy’s about outta steam, so don’t worry about us.” He cracked an easy smile. It did absolutely fuck all to calm her nerves but, after she nodded an acknowledgement, he thankfully headed back to the bedroom.

After collecting the water, chems and cigarettes, Payne returned to the darkened office, scavenging for every blood bag she could find. She ended up with four piled on the coffee table after a quick search. Staring at the stack, Payne tried desperately to convince herself of…well… something. She wasn’t even sure what that something was.

Four empty bags later, very little had changed in her disposition, only now she was stuffed to the gills with blood. Pulling her legs up on the soft red sofa, she soon found herself drifting to sleep, a food coma dragging her consciousness slowly under.

Soon she found herself lost in a dream. The vacant backstreets of Goodneighbor rose out of the vapors around her, gloomy and seemingly endless. Hearing her name being called, she followed the sound around a corner. Down the fictional alley, Hancock casually stood against a wall, his vibrant coat a beacon against the drab bricks. As she approached, a crouching humanoid figure coalesced out of the haze. Trepidation swept over Payne, slowing her pace to a crawl as she tried to anticipate the creature’s intent. Hancock, on the other hand, showed little interest, smiling while puffing away calmly on a cigarette.

When she was within a few yards of Hancock, the figure turned aggressively towards her and hissed. Payne recoiled. Its skin was as dark crimson, its features a twisted reflection of Payne herself. The most unnerving aspect of the creature was the deep black voids were eyes should have been. Advancing another step, both the phantom and Hancock disappeared as a bank of dense fog drifted across the alley.

Racing forward, searching for any sign of the Mayor, Payne soon found herself out of breath. She constantly ducked down alleyways and chased tantalizing shadows, trying to uncover any sign of Hancock or the creature. After collapsing on the pavement, exhausted, she heard Hancock’s raspy voice in the distance laughing.

Cautiously rounding another corner, she could see him sitting on a dirty crate, the creature skulking around between them, pacing from shadow to shadow. Summoning her remaining stamina, Payne sprinted forward. The creature reacted instantaneously, placing itself inhumanly fast between herself and Hancock, halting her advance.

Hancock chuckled. “You get too worked up about these things, sister. You really gotta learn to relax!”

Something about the way he spoke made her take a mental step back. Nothing about the way he looked or sounded read anxious or upset. He wasn’t asking for anything. He didn’t need her help… but the creature… the creature was purposefully inserting its body between the two of them, carefully watching her and matching her every movement. It wasn’t acting aggressive towards Hancock. It was defending him… from her!

The shock shook her out of her dream, bolting upright and fully awake.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I know this chapter is a bit on the short side, but the next bit is going to probably be pretty long. One of easiest places to break it up into digestible chunks is here.

[jojoreadwhat]

you're all in my hands tonight, tonight I'm a rock 'n' roll star. / honey & smoke - m.h. x OFC story

Four Days Later, On A Friday.

Matty's POV

Computer Education had already given me a sour taste in my mouth and I only sat through two of its lectures. One because I knew majority of what was listed on the slides Professor Nolan was scheming through. I really had no explanation why I applied at UNI in the first place. I had high hopes that the tapes the boys and I sent into Capital Records would hit a soft spot. Sending us on a one way trip to success, where none of these qualifications would matter as long as I wrote out the music.

Then again if it all went down hill where I'd arrive at my flat with a box of tapes with the word 'denied' repeatedly stamped over it like fragile, even though my heart would be the fragile piece in that box. It would open the door behind the scene, the little paper of a degree with my name. A ticket of being able to tweak the shitty tunes on the radio that replayed like the TV movies do on Sundays.

Two, Professor Nolan was a bit of a drag. A fine dapper looking gentlemen in his early fifties. His hair slick back dirty blonde with what looked like emerald eyes the last time I stood close. A close shaved beard that extenuated his sharp jaw line. Dressed to the nines that if you seen him on the streets, you would've thought he had millions and a white collar type business. Even though, his Gucci navy suit that my father had exactly and bought for fifteen hundred dollars could make you believe he sat on a green mountain of dollar signs.

I felt his personality and aura resembled a present me. Barely in tune with all the new things happening but completely in tune with the young ladies that gave any advantages to pass. But in his case the young ladies could pass as daughters if the sucker had any.

"Open Audio Access on your laptops." He commanded, changing the slides that was accompanied with taps and clicks from everyone following along. I sighed to myself, everything that was on those poorly designed boards. I had edited and achieved on a new track the boys and I had recorded last night.

I slouched back in my seat, listening to Nolan's cocky Mr. Know-It-All demeanor. His degrees decorating the back of his desk fact it in that he knew more. Only giving him the approval of having Professor in front of Nolan instead of Mister.

++

After commenting on Mindy's plaid skirt, Professor Feast-A-Lot finally dismissed us.

I still had a class within the hour, just some simple music class that I signed up for the laughing matter. Always stating my answers to bands I drowned myself in as the other students wanted to cuss me out. Sighing to themselves, like that mop got the spill of answers.

With the time I had between I decided to get some coffee. The tea I had earlier with George talking about his night wasn't living up to it's strong expectations. Even though the class I just left could stand as a contender of an explanation.

I walked with the rush of the hundreds in the halls, making my way to left wing lounge and turning the corner of muraled up wall, covered in vibrant flowers and weird shapes from the art program.

Waiting at the counter I turned to scan the little lounge, just many studying with their textbooks as heads. Some talking to another. Just the common vibe of any little coffee shop you stepped your foot into.

One of them sticking out like a sore thumb.

Lucy.

Writing in her leather bound journal that rested on her crossed legs, playing with the slight tear in her in the hem of her playful colored dress.

Relaxed and looking out the window on the purple wing-back in the cafe lounge. Watching the shades of orange, red and yellow converse against the blue sky. Admiring her side profile, a high cheek bone with a light dusting of blush against her milky skin, her perfectly rounded jaw. Her lashes curled with a coding of mascara that complimented her baby blues.

I watched as she grazed her bottom rosy lip with the back of her pen in thought.

The red headed barista asked for the second time what I wanted before realizing that she was even speaking. Finding it hard to take my eyes off the scenery near the window. I ordered my black coffee, then pointed out Lucy who looked disappointed in the last drops of her cup. Dark roast, light with vanilla, sugar and two shots of the sleep she had lost the night before.

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

Lucy's POV.

I was finding myself becoming a frequent patient with my therapeutic glances of the vibrant trees and the sounds of the espresso machine. Sitting in the same wingback, looking about the window, stuck in what I was going to jot in my journal next. My first week of being in London and enduring classes was wrapping up, nothing worthy had happened yet to write about and I was finding myself running around a writer's block.

As much as I wanted my creative juices to keep blending. I couldn't complain about how things were going. University has been so far treating me well. I've met a good handful of my professors in Week A, many have taken a liking to me which I couldn't quite grasp. But it wasn't a bad feeling to know about, plus Professor Jones really liked my thesis of A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Putting a good word into the librarian of the Uni's library and landing me a interview for Monday.

Things at the university housing with Liz and Abby was going pretty well too. I was growing more fond of them by the minute, both interested in the same type of books, music and films. Liz was a bit realistic and logic about life, which kind of put a damper on things if you were trying to live in a fantasy world with reality biting you in the ass. Then Abby was more free spirited and self aware of what made an individual very much happy, even when the world was not so happy.

Then lastly, home. I finally Skyped my brother Eric and my dad. It was early for them but quite late for me. But in all I was mixed with emotions, both joyful and sad that I wasn't home. They are doing well so far.

I sighed to myself, resting my leather bound on my lap and retreating my blue eyes to the shades of orange, red and yellow. Reaching for the coffee I had finished moments ago, but reluctant to get up and grab another.

But that was before one was brought to me instead. By another thing that I had happened to come across this week.

"Am I intruding?" The English native that I met my first night here had greeted, handing me the warm paper cup with pretty botanical flowers repeated. I shook my head, gesturing my free hand to the wingback across.

Matty sat down, folding his long legs over one another. His eyes meeting mine, smiling softly as his mouth indulged in a sip. Giving me a few moments to admire before another word.

He wasn't wearing his glasses today but his hair was the same as the night I met him. Pulled back into a bun with loose curls shaping out his face. My eyes leading down to his lined out jaw. His collarbones, the tattoo that always made an appearance no matter what type of shirt he wore this week. To the lasting hole over his knee.

I was broken from my stare when he had chuckled, possibly figuring out that I was staring long.

"Anything new?" He asked, his eyes gesturing to my open leather bound. I shook my head, slowly closing it against my knee before my eyes met his again.

He looked at me surprised and in disbelief, "So the storyteller doesn't have a story to tell?" He questioned, resting his cup on the table aside us. I shrugged, it was truly hard to believe but as my mind moved fast the world outside of it didn't and I was at a stand still.

"It just been classes, reading and then some." I finished, finally taking a sip of my coffee.

Matty smiled at me again, a smile I could watch curl at the ends of his mouth like a favorite part to a movie. "We may have to change that." He said, looking at me with tricks under his sleeves and me swimming in his over sized sweater.

I had to cut my coffee break short when I realized I had time run to my next class, Woman Studies.

Shortly becoming my favorite class as we debated fundamental rights and she played Kathleen Hanna fronted Bikini Kill winning my anarchy heart.

"Don't forget to read The Second Sex and please have your reasoning's sent in by 12 AM on Monday." She dismissed. I followed suit with the rest of the class as I packed away my things for the weekend.

Making my way to the hall to get lost in the hundred of others trying to head out and not miss the next Tube coming by. The boy in a leather jacket that I was sharing a coffee with an hour earlier was leaning against the wall next to the door.

His devious smirk gracing upon his face, "I'm feeling like you're onto something." I commented, a small smile plastering across my cheeks. Matty rippled a contagious laugh that I could listen to like an album on my turntable.

"Can't a gentleman just walk a lady home safely?" He remarked.

++

"No! That's a lie!" I laughed, hitting Matty's forearm lightly. We had moved onto music since Matty offered to walk me home. And let's just say we had a few differences.

Matty loved older music, which I did too. But I found Prince to be a bit cooler than MJ. Which didn't sit well with Matty. "Have you heard the magic in Rock With You?" He mentioned, "It's fucking legendary!" It was so funny to see him go off, but I never said I didn't like the man! I knew how the sounds had your hips moving. I was just a Purple Rain kind of girl.

Matty stood in front of me, walking backwards down the sidewalk.

Girl. Close your eyes... He began singing, moving his hips to the beats that played out in his head. Taking my hand, and pulling me close.

Let that rhythm get into you, don't try to fight it. Placing one hand above my hip, the other still in mine. Directing my hips into a sway, as his voice hit me like sweet serenity.

He went on, and I was enjoying every bit of it. Music was his muse like books were mine and he wasn't ashamed to show it. His hips showing that he never stopped moving either.

We had arrived to the front of my flat, Matty belting more songs of MJ.

"I have to get in," I mentioned, not really wanting to do so. Matty's lips kept moving "Not until you change your mind." Singing in the measures of Don't Stop Till You Get Enough.

I chuckled, still dancing with him till I finally caved in. "Alright, Michael Jackson is better." I confessed, meaning every word that fell from my mouth. He just chuckled, pulling me closer and bringing his lips to my ear.

"I think you're lying" his warm breath grazing my lobe. Sending chills down my spine. I went to protest when Liz and Abby got out of their car. Interrupting our manifest. They just softly smiled, saying Hello before retreating up the porch. I looked up at Matty, who still had his hand around my waist.

Matty pulled away with a soft but questionable expression on his face. I wondered what was on his mind.

"Come watch us play tonight." He said, "The boys and I are playing at the bar George's bartends in. I'd like to see you there."

Many different excuses ran through my mind. Studying, catching some sleep, watching the same three episodes of The Office, outline my far along memoir that would be a flop. Just a rush of things that could've fallen from my mouth.

"Alright, sounds like fun." Happened to be the better option.

Matty's smirk turn a bit shy, looking to the ground before he looked back up at me.

"I'll pick you up at 6?" He questioned, I nodded. Still confused on why I was agreeing to this extravaganza in the first place. A smile gracing his face once more before turning on his Vans to head back to where his road led him.

"See you soon, Blue."

[usukitomogara]

Especially on sultry days near the end of the rainy season like today, the flesh on both sides turns into an aroma diffuser of death. It is a an exceptionally hideous Oai odor, endlessly also emit and without Mokumoku, change and to hell with the interior space in a moment.

I am a serious, so-called wakiga. It is a wakiger.

If the maximum level of armpits is 10 and the power to bury a hamster in the armpit in seconds, I'm a fairly legendary category of about 8-9.

My half-life can be called a fight with my wakiga. When I was a teenager, I was worried about to die. After graduating from high school, I had apocrine gland removal surgery. It recurred in my late twenties. It became stronger and revived. I was worried again. Every effort was made, but in vain. With the years, the smell became stronger. Today, when I'm in my forties, this armpit has the strongest odor, but I'm not worried at all. I'm even thankful for being born in Wakiga. What is this change like?

It is generally said that there are different types of wakiga odors, but in my case, the rotten odors of milk, fish, meat and onions, urine, vinegared rice, mold, iron odors, all of which are left over. Is blended without. Approximately all the bad odors that a human can have are generously condensed into a certain gas. It is, so to speak, a Western music HIT compilation "NOW" in the world of wakiga.

The quality is high, but the quantity is great. The white T-shirt is yellow for both sides so that it doesn't last for a season. The gray T-shirt is sweaty before you leave the house. When I was delivering a newspaper, I sometimes delivered it by pinching the morning newspaper. Originally a highly absorbent newspaper, the thirty copies of the morning edition were all covered in sweat from the front page to the program table.

On a hot and humid day like today, I think it's a nightmare-like smelt.

As I continue to smell the same odor 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, I feel the stimulus is fresh, so it's easy to imagine how much hell someone else stepping into my wakidein range can see me to hell. .. Moreover, its power goes beyond mere "smell". The power of wakiga is supposed to be effective only against the nasal cavity, but at my level, the attack extends to the throat and lungs.

Since the apocrine glands beside me awoke and wakiga began to rage, people nearby were coughing violently. In a crowded train, in a classroom, at a convenience store, and as people pass by on the street, people cough with a few tears. A weak-legged grandfather with a cane blows his dentures, and coughs like crazy enough to pull his soul half out of his body. Of course, there is also the possibility of beliefs due to excessive self-consciousness. As a single hope, the logic is that the visual sensations rather than the odor, that is, the teratogenicity of my body, makes people dislike and consciously coughs as an expression. I had also assembled. But it was useless.

On the street, I once tried to overtake a young eagle worker who walked forward. The younger man began to cough violently when the distance gradually decreased and three meters left. With the same tone that I often hear on the train. The young man has not even perceived a pedestrian behind him. People were cruelly honest about the transparent gas of Wakiga.

Naturally, I was worried about to die when adolescents were concerned about the opposite sex.

When I was a junior high school student, every year the summer was approaching and I wanted to die from the end of GW. Finally, I decided to prepare for only Y-shirts. This is because the sweat stain becomes noticeable, as well as the smell becomes stronger. Like malnourished children in developing countries, or Pygmon, I always close my arms tightly, and when I pick up things, I move them only from the elbows. Such efforts were vain, and Amraco gals who were high in school caste sweared in the halls and so on, saying, "I'm really wacky, but w", and were given nicknames such as durian, kebab, and sushitaro.

It was winter, especially hell. Instead of worrying about sweat stains, Gakuran gives off a ferocious stench. It smells like a dry rag left in the shade for a week after wiping plenty of milk. Wakiga has no breaks. The thick cloth, Gakuran, has bad breathability, so I rather sweat. The sweat that has no place to escape evaporates, and the inner and Y-shirts function as a two-layer filter to filter, and high-purity wakiga extract is caught by the outer Gakuran fabric. In addition, winter drying causes bacteria to grow. The occurrence of violent stench is inevitable.

Besides, Gakuran doesn't wash so often. When I returned from school, I used water and detergent only on the side of the school run to wash my hands. It's something I'll wear the next day, so I can't just give it a fair sun. I have to dry it by morning. Therefore, after washing with water, I kept the dryer in the washroom for 2-3 hours. Finally, between the dryer and the cloth, it clicks! And when the blue lightning like Cherenkov light ran, I thought I had gone as far as possible. However, the effort was not rewarded, and the next day, the smell of detergent was added to the above-mentioned bad odor, which made people around him uncomfortable.

I decided to have an operation after having troubled myself to the point of mental collapse. Human relations are reset during the spring break after graduating from high school. I thought it would be the only time to do it. At the clinic in Ikebukuro, which is a comprehensive department store of plastic surgery, laser hair removal, chin excision, nasal prosthesis placement, silicone boobs, and almost anything related to beauty, shame the waiting room crowded by model-like sisters Shinobu jumped in. I made an appointment for the surgery day at the first visit without consulting my parents. My mother was an old man who never allowed me to put a scalpel on my parent's body. I have never confessed about wakiga's worries. However, I wonder if I secretly knew what I was doing, and when I showed him the invoice, he transferred nearly 200,000 yen without saying anything.

On the day of the operation, in the operating room of Norinori, where club music was played, the operation proceeded by a young teacher with a chara allback and a nurse in a pink nurse outfit sold at Don Quixote. Since I had a partial anesthesia, my teacher asked me about some wakiga while he was cutting the apocrine gland. It was my first time to confess to another person at this time, but it was easy to talk with a light teacher, so when I started talking, I could not stop. I felt comfortable as I was talking, and I had no surgery, so it seemed silly that I was worried about death. Sunny, I got the long-cherished odorless armpit that would not drop a single drop of side sweat even in midsummer. I suffered from complete numbness around the armpit and some numbness, leaving scars like swelling of the earthworm, but it does not hurt my life.

Having suffered for as long as you die can turn you over to what you love as you die. Shigeru Mizuki, the famous author of the manga "GeGeGe no Kitaro", lost one arm in Rabaul, the destination of the war in the previous war, and returned to life after nine deaths. Since the arrival of peace after the war, he has loved the land of the once-threatening Rabaul and has visited it more than 10 times. It's annoying to cite it, but about two years after I got an odorless wakiga, I fell in love with the wakiga that would have afflicted me once. To be precise, the smell of the armpits of women began to become extraordinarily excited.

When I was twenty, I miraculously had a girlfriend (probably kanako) and abandoned her virginity. Strictly not her, she is a woman who has sex. Not a sex friend. There is nothing to communicate with each other other than sex. It was like a human masturbation product where you would go back to TSUTAYA to return to the DVD and go home with a rusty mama-chari on the brakes when you went out to meet each other. To that proof, kanako appeared before me without much makeup. Even rice has never been eaten together. I don't mind this, I'll let you do it every time, and I thought I didn't have to worry about it.

More than a year after having sex for the first time, and when I don't know how many times I had sex, it's not uncommon to have a fellatio even when I have a fellatio. In such a case, I closed my eyes and said in my head, "The woman who is sucking now is Chun-Li, Chun-Li, Chun-Li, Chun-Li..." There are times when you look at it when you open it, fold up the newspaper, and raise your heavy waist, which can make you feel better, but it also becomes less useful.

One day, when sex was downgraded to act equivalent to dungeon and brushing teeth, one day when I went to kanako's room, I was wearing a sleeveless leopard dress like a primitive man's control and folding laundry. I was struck by the appearance of life and shabbyness. It is said that her husband got it in arcade. Thinking that I should go home and do wii's Zelda legend, I knew something instinctively when Kanako reached out to take Kabuki or take something from the shelf. Then, suddenly, I stopped looking at the mobile phone and turned my gaze to kanako. I stood up quickly. The armpit of Kanako who looked into suddenly had a little hair under her hair because of her daily laziness. I stay as it is! Yelled. Then, he approached and fixed the bottle-bottom glasses that were slipping down, and looked at it a little... seriously. In me, the sound of the earth started to sound. I took kanako's arm and opened her arm full. I desperately restrained my trembling arm to close it immediately. I had been overlooked until now. How beautiful...! Suddenly, the humidity was suddenly released. It was like a breath of spring under a cherry tree in full bloom. Kanako who shook Kabuki on the floor and trembled suddenly.... It's a revolution! Magma overflowed with a terrible explosion. For the first time in over a month, I slammed my One Piece and threw it on a futon with my princess hugging, holding my kana child hall violently. Hugged, sniffed, sniffed, hugged. While sticking from behind, I put my finger under my sweaty armpit and sniffed it. While covering from the top, the face armpits that made me live, buried my face under my armpit, licked Peron Peron, and screamed on my tongue were the drugs themselves. That night, as if I met him for the first time, he got crazy again and again. No, I didn't have time to wither. Even though I'm a woman who can eat Katsu-don while turning the TV channel, even if my boobs are blown out in front of me!

From that day on, waki became cheese-in-hamburger and kana became like parsley in me. On weekdays, if you can't smell under your armpit for a while, it becomes like a withdrawal symptom. Oh, I want to sniff and lick my armpit quickly. I want to see Wakiko. I'm almost suffocated! After opening the door of kanako's apartment for the first time in a week, it was as if a mid-distance runner had run 400m, and immediately, while being held by a coach, he was able to apply an oxygen respirator and breathe into his armpits with all his might. .. I was alive again, and my tears overflowed. Kanako was not a so-called wakiga, but when she sucked her nose against it, it smelled of a strange rotten smell. When I took a deep deep breath, the odor filled my lungs, and got into the bloodstream, my brain was stained pink.

At first, kanako showed a real dislike of being able to see and smell her armpit hair, and looked down at me with awake eyes while her face was buried. I couldn't respond even if I asked by mouth, so I had no choice but to take violent measures like rape. However, apparently it seems that this is a real pervert, or it is due to familiarity, I have obeyed obediently. In the middle of the foreplay, when I quickly sensed that I couldn't get up today with the intuition of a woman, I started to open myself. There may have been a case where he should get erected early in order to avoid the slight shock of not getting erected. My interest and demand for armpits increased day by day. By the way, kanako is a mixed race from Naha, it's a public image as if it's completely open, I'm one year older, sexual role is S, I'm M stakeout piston cowgirl (with me. It was a classic course to get fucked by the second joint of (Anal finger insertion). However, as for the armpits, I will be reversed to S, and kanako will be reversed to M (probably unwilling). Then I was instructed not to shave my armpit hair. The day before I met, I was instructed to never wash my armpits. I think kanako was horrible and obeyed because my eyes were so serious. I was surprised that I had the ability to train an older woman according to my taste. In the summer evening, kanako got into the doorstep of my house after she finished her tele-apo job, and I walked over and forced Kanako's frightened shirt off and banzai, walking from the station and still sweating. I caught the stuffy underarms that didn't pull, sticking like Tuchu Chupa Chupa, like an alien larva, and, as it was, poked into the back at the entrance. I'm already like a mother, I'm farting in front of people in public, there is a rubber mark on my pants on my stomach, I wake the kettle for the time being to get up, make a snorkel like an old man, It smells like a dungeon stewed overnight over low heat, soaks into the bar until late every night, and you're fishing for a man that you can choose, a woman like a rainy weekly playboy who can't stir up excitement. Against! Was it because I owned this woman that I had such a painful surgery for Wakiga?

It's funny, I think my thoughts were understood, kana grew up. When I was sniffed at my side and got licked, I got excited, my secret meat drooped like squid smoked, and the surrounding area was soaking wet with a soil-colored manko with perennial millet. In the end, I was messing with myself, and I licked it and even showed off my sides. But even beside that special presence, I wasn't excited for about three months, then I didn't see kanako, and I went into a long, long second virgin. I don't think human beings without human beings are endless. (In the news of the wind, kanako heard that five years ago, she was drunk and crossing the street, and was killed by a taxi. There was an idiot.)

Even now, even if I am just sleeveless, even an aunt in my 50's will come awkward, I will like girls who have a light smell on the side, and even if I see the word "woman's armpit" If not, the preheat mode will be turned on lightly. What was that talking about? Yeah, I was talking about my own armpit.

By the way, I had a surgery for wakiga, and I thought that I could live a life that was free from those worries. Apocrine gland (in my opinion, Moomin's Nyoronyoro) slowly revived over the course of about five years. I wondered if it would ever be removed again, so I grew up thicker, stronger and stronger than before. At the same time, the sensation of the paralyzed skin and the armpit hair that was partly shaved were restored with the same foot. The smell was stronger than before, staying in one place, and when I got lost in the forest, I went back by following the humbling silver fly. It was

Fortunately, however, science and technology have evolved over the last few years, and companies have found that antiperspirants are much more effective than they were in their teens. In the past, the only concept was to disguise it by applying a strong scent to the wakiga, but the mainstream was to remove the odor itself, such as the power of silver. Thanks to that, I was able to reduce the odor for about 8 hours during the daytime. If it smelled at the time limit during the drinking party, I should have done it like Cinderella. However, the effect seems to be effective only for the smell sensed by the nasal cavity, and it seems that the fine particles of the poison of Wakiga do not disappear. The crazy coughing around me was the same as before. But since it doesn't smell, the source couldn't be identified... In this way, I was able to live a group life in my late twenties and early thirties, without cheating or cheating, without being disliked by the open arms.

And last month, after I had been smoking cigarettes for the first time in my life, the smell became stronger. The deodorant stone, which is said to be the strongest in removing odors, doesn't work anymore. During the delivery of Uber Eats, I am waking up Wakiga to Max, while I am traveling around the crowded city, McDonald's, and each customer's house, so it is close to terrorism (only when delivering a kebab ).

But, as I said at the beginning, I don't really worry about my wakiga suffering from others. This is because the way of thinking has changed in the last few years. Let's go wakiga! I think positively. There was no need to worry and shame. If you think about it, I've done something awkward on my body. Putting a scalpel on the armpit and removing the apocrine gland is like a hedgehog squeezing all of the body's body. It's like giraffe getting surgery and shortening his neck.

The personal characteristics of the human body are always meaningful, no matter how negative they seem. Thanks to that feature, we have survived a severe competition for thousands and tens of thousands of years. In my case, I am today because I have inherited armpits for thousands of years and raised armpits. This odor is a height of art that has been honed and reached over tens of thousands of years of incredible time. If Wakiga was disliked in some generation and the apocryline was removed with a stone ax, my bloodline would have been cut off immediately. Besides, illusory is not ill, unlike illness. When a person is born, it is an Amazon-only initial purchase bonus ability that is provided as a given thing. I was convinced that the apocrine glands, which were still growing after inserting a female, had a tremendous necessity for my survival. To be honest, I'm sorry to do that.

There is absolutely no universal value. It just happens that a particular group of island nations in the Far East today are not accepting wakiga. It was swayed by a crowded train every morning, pushed into a small room all day long, absolutely obeyed the above command, and faced with the same human for a long time, which brought about the prosperity of the nation. Over a period of time, too much body odor was unpleasant. On the contrary, welcome conditions...Ikemen, high height, small face, slender, leg length etc. artificially created by Dentsu etc. as a value standard suitable for making people obedient and comfortable living in a group. People just take things and believe in them. What a person likes and dislikes is just one of the biased ideas of the myriad of options. The ability that is really necessary for an individual to survive is not something that others can arbitrarily decide. It shouldn't be easy to decide. You should listen to the voices of your ancestors who have survived the fierce competition for survival in your body.

As you can see, I always use the FANZA sample to make me squeeze in my female armpit licking video. In other words, I want to combine my own wakiga gene with the female wakiga gene to leave a species with a stronger wakiga for future generations. Instinct, not reason, encourages that. In other words, the will of the universe. Denying Wakiga is synonymous with going against God.

Indeed, Wakiga will ward off people with its unpleasant odor. But is it bad to keep people away or to be lonely?

no. Solitude is also a necessary condition for humans to survive.

What is the best preventive measure against today's raging coronavirus?

So far, you already know.

Humankind has been exposed to epidemics every few hundred years.

In today's information society, social distance is considered to be the best, and is transmitted to people. But what did humanity do before inventing letters and words?

There was no choice but to let the epidemic spread.

The distance between people was extremely high, and the mammoth BBQ way-way Leah was infected and died.

Meanwhile, there are some who have escaped the infection. It's the caveman who is always alone in a cave in the mountains, our progenitor, Wakiga.

Since ancient times, the Wakiga people have realized a social distance, whether they like it or not, by keeping people away with its unpleasant odor. And by being lonely, he has survived the epidemic of repeated plagues.

With the above, I tell Yukipoyo-like little girls.

What's important about after-corona is not good-looking, tall, small face, slender, or tall, nor do you have a hairstyle like a Korean-style idol and make a fool of way at Kawahara BBQ! Such is the illusion created by the ill-advised Adman, who forces Hakuhodo's two-block black-rimmed glasses, who extort the sense of being a Hinadan entertainer. They will eventually wipe out the green bubbles from their mouths and die crazy.

It's only wakiga, loneliness, that is, a man like me, that you should make your uterus squirm. If you were saying "I'm serious, but w" like you were at a convenience store, you're sure to be destined to regret it!

And one more important thing.

If any of your daughters had an underarm odor, please don't feel embarrassed. I don't want to apply deonature. I don't want a scalpel. It's worth more than Chanel's crap. Also, please do not shave your armpit hair. Because it is as beautiful as the wings of an angel.

Also, if you don't mind, please let my uncle lick the armpits. Ehe. I hope you squeeze it by pinching it on the side where the hair grows. Ehehe.

Thank you for your consideration.

[megacircuit9universe]

TikTok’s Reprieve

MON AUG 03 2020

Things have actually gotten a little better since the last entry.  The Homeland Security guys were removed from Portland, and never got deployed anywhere else.  

And Trump, after threatening to ban TikTok in no uncertain terms, announced yesterday that he will hold off for 45 days, allowing Microsoft time to negotiate a purchase of TikTok.

Microsoft had begun such talks a while back, when the TikTok ban was first floated by Secretary of State Pompeo.

Microsoft actually backed off and halted talks when Trump began tweeting about doing the ban for real, last week... but then Trump seems to have realized, Oh, wait!.. 

Having all that data on all those users in federal hands could be more useful than pissing off every voter between 18 and 30, to run to the polls.  And maybe he could strong arm a little kick back from Microsoft... you know... like he always angles for.

Either way, TikTok is off the hook for that Tulsa rally prank... for now.

I, personally, am very fascinated by what a Microsoft owned TikTok would be like!..

Thus far, Microsoft has zero social media presence.  They tried several years ago, to break into the smartphone market with an OS, but it was a huge flop.

Prior to that, the last time Microsoft really got all up in the face of the internet was back during the browser wars of the late 1990s, and early 2000s... going up against Netscape, with Internet Explorer and...

...really fighting to control how web pages were coded, by having a browser engine that dealt with HTML differently than Netscape* and recognized tags that Nescape didn’t... shaping the final format of the desktop browser internet as we know it today.

They won that browser war eventually... but then lost it to Google Chrome a few years later.  Their tepid answer was Bing... which only survives because it’s the default for so many corporate workstations.

But Microsoft missed the whole social media revolution entirely.

YouTube and Twitter were two of the first, followed by Instagram, Tumblr, Snapchat, etc... all bought up by big online conglomerates like Google, Yahoo, or Facebook... while Microsoft sat quietly by... totally focused on Windows 10, and nothing else.

But it is the triumph of Windows 10, that makes me think a Microsoft owned social media app, like TikTok... the coolest that ever was... could result in some far reaching, life changing, stuff... the likes of Google buying YouTube.

YouTube is now the undisputed video platform of the modern world. It’s not just TV, Movies, and personal videos... but a library of Alexandria magnitude database of knowledge, in the form of educational and how-to videos... as well as a great news resource.

Okay, back to Windows 10.  I call it a triumph, because it’s finally become a self-updating OS, that is simultaneously, forever backward compatible.  W10 has perfected the virtual machines inside itself, which can run any app that ever ran on any previous version of Windows, back to the start.

Hell, it has a virtual machine to run DOS just like the old days!

It entrenches Windows into the universe, the same way the qwerty keyboard is entrenched, or the width of train tracks were entrenched by ancient Roman chariots... it doubles down hard on keeping the computer... as we knew it... a thing we will still know tomorrow.

Compare that to the currently flopping adventure from Google into the laptop market, with tiny laptops, called chromebooks, run by Chrome OS.  Nobody wants them.  They’re just glorified tablets... which are just glorified phones.

Where are our windows?  Where is our start bar?  Where is our folder system, and our millions of programs we’ve come to love over the past thirty years?

Phones are one universe... computers are another.  That seems set in stone now, and Windows will never be directly compatible with Android, or Apple based phones/tablets... but that’s a good thing.

Back to TikTok...

Imagine if Microsoft brought back the legendary Windows Movie Maker, in a new form for editing TikTok videos!  How awesome would that be?

Windows Movie Maker was the MS Paint of desktop video editing.  It was free with Windows, and it was amazing!  I’m sure that it had a huge hand in getting YouTube off the ground, back in the early days, when it was all just reguar people with digital camera footage in their bedrooms.

I’m not sure why they discontinued it, but they did with Vista.

If a verson of Movie Maker were to come back to the desktop, in the form of a TikTok extension... holy shit!

But TikTok also has licensing agreements with a vast library of musical artists, and other audio resources, so, Microsoft could easily spin off a Spotify type playlist feature, and a GarageBand/ Myspace type unsigned indie music feature, that would dominate that unmet demand for such things, in 2020.

Currently, Amazon Music, Spotify, SoundCloud, and several others, including YouTube, have been clumbsily grasping at this music market... with shitty results.  

Spotify’s falling out of favor, because of it’s obnoxious adds.  SoundCloud is a vanity publishing service where unknown artitst pay for exposure, but there’s no access to anything else.  And Amazon Music is great for both indie and published musicians, but... only gets used by Amazon Prime members, which means they cannot share playlists with most people.

A universal music sharing superstructure, free to everybody, that compensates the artists... like YouTube for video creators... does not exist, but could soon, if Microsoft buys TikTok and develops it along logical lines.

In fact, if they spin off longer form branches of the app... the five minute vid... the thirty minute vid... the ninety minute vid... they’d supplant YouTube.

...or at least force YouTube to step up it’s game, considerably.

This could be a gold mine for Microsoft... if they don’t screw it up.

They’ve already announced that, should the purchase go through, Microsoft will oversee TikTok in Canada, America, and Australia... which is a great start on dominating Europe, and eventually getting back into India, where it is currenly banned.

It will be ineresting to see what comes of all this in the months and years ahead.

But for tonight... it’s time for bed.

*Netscape rose to popularity by enabling it’s own in-browser HTML tags, that were not yet part of the WC3 (World Wide Web Consortium 3.0) standards.  And their tags enabled images to be featured inline with text, as well as other innovative reaches that forced the WC to play catch-up, while wagging a naughty finger.

This forced a, “cambrian explosion” of web design and content.

Microsoft engaged in the same tactics, with MSIE, but rendered pages differently and had it’s own unique tags, and document model to be accessed by Javascript, forcing web designers to choose between Netscape, or IE compatability... or some convoluted compromise.

Eventualy IE won out, but was supplanted by Google Chrome, as the universal browser of the world.

[dramioneasks]

Most original Dramione stories you've ever read. I'm talking the ones with a unique premise or twist you didn't see coming. Something that isn't usual in this fandom. Can be dark, fluffy, romantic. Whatever. I just want to read something that is like, WOW THAT'S DIFFERENT!

Well, here are some I can think of off the top of my head. I’m only posting the stories that are completed, not the WIPs (there are SO MANY good WIPs out there!):

A Killing Grace by Savage Midnight - Rated: M - 5 Chapters (COMPLETE) - In the midst of war, two enemies fight on common ground to bring the blood bath to an end. Hate and prejudice are flung aside, boundaries are broken, and the inevitable sacrifices are made.

A Kind and Generous Man by AnneM.Oliver - Rated: M - 30 Chapters (COMPLETE) - Regency era Dramione. Though he appeared as a highwayman, she thought he was a kind & generous man. Once the mask was removed, could she love him as he really was, or was he to hide behind his ‘mask’ forever. A story of manners, deception & love. 

Black Rose by Dawn-Of-Indescribable-Colors - Rated: M - 1 Chapter (COMPLETE) - Draco is falling in love with Hermione, his Ministry co-worker, who hates his guts. However, he is also engaged in a passionate sexual relationship with Black Rose, a beautiful dancer in a sinful wizarding nightclub, but the gorgeous witch always keeps her carnival mask on when they are together…

Cake and Other Curses by AkashaTheKitty - Rated: MA - 10 Chapters (COMPLETE) - Hermione is far too fond of cake and all but attached to Harry at the hip. Generally, it’s working out for her, but lately Draco has been annoying her to death by mocking her weight and her relationship with Harry. One day she spots some logic in his claims that she and Harry ought to be more than friends. Uncertain how to proceed, she agrees when Draco volunteers to help. This turns out to get very confusing very fast, as Hermione finds herself becoming attracted to the wrong person…

Decomposition Of The Soul by hiddenhibernian - Rated: T - 3 Chapters (COMPLETE) - Not all prisoners serve out their sentence in Azkaban. Some are sent to the Department of Mysteries, and their fate is one of the most closely guarded secrets of the wizarding world. Unfortunately, Draco is about to find out just how far Hermione Granger is willing to go for the greater good.

Doll by Captainraychill - Rated: MA (NC-17) - 2 Chapters (COMPLETE) - “I’d adored my doll at first sight because, though she appeared to be pure, she was really a creature of sex. Her lips were plump and painted to appear wet. Her eyes were corrupt beneath her lush lashes. Her steady, sober gaze told me that she knew her only purpose was to be used by me and that she had accepted this.”

Eyes Open by Day Met the Night - Rated: T - 1 Chapter (COMPLETE) - “He’s let the envelope fall into his palm. If she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it. 'You know the rules, don’t you’ 'Only for when I’m at my lowest point,’ he says. 'And after I open it, I go straight to you.’” Ten years later, and he’s falling in love with her.

Forever Kind of Valentine by Avari20 - Rated: T - 1 Chapter (COMPLETE) - Draco’s plans for ignoring the most hated holiday of the year are put on hold by the God of Love himself. It’s either win or kiss dating goodbye. What’s a cynic to do?

Fortuna Major by olivieblake - Rated: M - 6 Chapters (COMPLETE) - She’s with Ron, he’s with Astoria, and nothing a cheap psychic on the Venice Boardwalk says is going to change that. Or will it?

His Beautiful, Haunting Eyes by thecellarfloor - Rated: M - 14 Chapters (COMPLETE) - Draco pushed her to the wall, kissed her roughly on the lips, then punched the glass window beside her head. It smashed into pieces and the crowd who had parted for him seconds ago gasped. Hermione couldn’t. She couldn’t even breathe. What have you done?

In Their Garden by Lady Cailan - Rated: K+ - 1 Chapter (COMPLETE) - A flowerpot sits on her windowsill and each night a new flower grows. Hermione uses her memories to cope with life after Draco is affected by a curse gone bad.

Lady of the Lake by Colubrina - Rated: M - 50 Chapters (COMPLETE) - Hermione and Draco team up after the war to overthrow the Order and take over wizarding Britain. “I don’t even especially mind belonging to you most of the time,” he closes his eyes and just breathes for a bit, savoring not being in pain. Finally he adds, “Just… try to take better care of your toys.”

Life After Grief by Mel88 - Rated: M - 5 Chapters (COMPLETE) - The Collier’s Virus is highly contagious, magically virulent, and always fatal. Junior Healers Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are called in to help find a cure before the virus claims another life. If they can.

Only a Pretense by WickedlyAwesomeMe - Rated: T - 42 Chapters (COMPLETE) - In order to save her parents, Hermione Granger had to give up everything, even her identity… and femininity.

Presque Toujours Pur by ShayaLonnie - Rated: M - 38 Chapters (COMPLETE) - Bellatrix’s torture of Hermione uncovers a long-kept secret. The young witch learns her true origins in a story that shows the beginning and end of the Wizarding wars as Hermione learns about her biological father and the blood magic he dabbled in that will control her future.

Questions of Science by: Countess of Abe - Rated: M - 18 Chapters (COMPLETE) - Hermione is living a content life working at St. Mungo’s when an unexpected assignment from the chief of medicine sends her to the home of Draco Malfoy. What will happen to the pragmatic brunette as she explores what science cannot answer?

Randy Man’s Playbook by BittyBlueEyes - Rated: M - 25 Chapters (COMPLETE) - A very unique book finds its way to the hands of Draco Malfoy - A book that, if utilized well, could help him fulfill his fantasies. 

Redemption by anondracomalfoy - Rated: M - 23 Chapters (COMPLETE) - Hermione works at St. Mungos, and the fourth floor has recently made a discovery and inadvertently retrieved her biggest regret-her lost and seemingly Obliviated husband, Draco Malfoy. Draco is forced to return to her, and strange things begin to occur.

Static by galfoy - Rated: M - 21 Chapters (COMPLETE) - The Order rescued Draco and Lucius Malfoy after Lord Voldemort turned on them. All the safe houses are full, and Hermione Granger is the only one who can take them in. Will she agree after having suffered a drastic nervous breakdown?

The Nietzsche Classes by Beringae - Rated: M - 15 Chapters (COMPLETE) - The Ministry takes action against the remaining prejudice in the wizarding society and asks Hermione for help. “What do you want? Money? Power? Name your price, Granger. I’m not about to let pride get in my way when an Azkaban sentence is on the line.” 

The Queen’s Knight by cleotheo - Rated: M - 29 Chapters (COMPLETE) - There’s a new craze in the wizarding world: Immersion Books. When Harry and Ron buy one for Hermione’s birthday she finds herself immersed in a medieval world where a certain blond Slytherin has been cast as her lover.

Troy by Twilight to Midnight - Rated: M - 3 Chapters (COMPLETE) - Draco loved this woman. Draco worshipped this woman. Draco would do nothing short of destroying the legendary city of Troy to have her, to hold her, to possess her as his own, forever and a day. AU. Warning: Dark Draco and questionable consent.

Unspoken Rules Should Be Broken by CelticSass - Rated: M - 3 Chapters (COMPLETE) - Blaise, Hermione, and Draco shared a relationship, now Blaise is dead, and Hermione and Draco are confused as to where they stand with one another.

Utterly Despicable by camnz - Rated: M - 24 Chapters (COMPLETE) - The death of both Voldemort and Harry Potter let the pureblood elite build the world they wanted. One that leaves Hermione in a vulnerable state, which Draco Malfoy is prepared to take full advantage of.

When He Was Wicked by LadyStiff - Rated: M - 14 Chapters (COMPLETE) - When Hermione mistakenly makes a wish for Draco Malfoy to love her, she never in a million years believed it would actually come true. But when the wish doesn’t turn out as expected, will she lose Draco forever?

When The Butterflies Fly Home by AuroraAustralice - Rated: M - 45 Chapters (COMPLETE) - Commander Draconis Malfoy of Caesars Roman Army has set out to conquer the northern part of Briton. Hermione Granger has been brought up with respect and always been given an equal status as the men in her village. Unknown to her, her father stirs up the rebellion against the Roman e had never experienced harshness and cruelty before but now as a slave that is all she sees.

I’ve got so many more, but have to start getting ready for my day, so must go. Maybe others can add to the list?

XOXO,

- RZZMG

Edit: If I may, I thought this was very unique, IT MAY SCAR YOU FOR LIFE but it is good:

Fragments by Jane - M, 50 Chapters - “Last night, she told me about you. I know how you met, how you hated, how you loved.”

- Lisa