#they keep happening too so it's an endless buffet

[jtargaryen18]

Barber & Weiss ~ Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Words: 4.7K

Pairing: Dark Andy Barber x Dark Mike Weiss x Reader

Warnings: Expletive use. References to drug dealing, drug use, and embezzlement. Dubious consent, mild coercion, sexual blackmail, contract for sex as repayment, theft. Explicit sexual content to include face-sitting and double penetration.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: You run the office at Barber & Weiss and love your job and employers. When your drug-dealing boyfriend gets in trouble with a loan shark, you’re hesitant to embezzle money from the law firm to bail him out. But he promises you he’ll be able to return the money quickly, before someone notices it’s gone. What’s going to happen to you when your boyfriend is arrested and your bosses know about your theft?

~~~*~~~*~~~

The day your firm won the Fields’ case was cause for celebration.

The three of you had spent many nights at Andy’s house working long hours on that case, going over endless possibilities and theories. Mike could unearth anything anyone tried to keep hidden with uncanny precision. Last week he had brought a huge dry-erase board over to Andy’s house, marking it up with your combined ideas.

Andy didn’t seem to mind that. He got into it. Did it bother him Mike ended up shirtless in those suspenders he loved so much?

It did. Oh, you could tell. Eventually, it was time for each evening to end. You stayed there with Andy, and neither you nor Mike missed the smirk he wore as he watched his partner leave each night.

Yeah, there was some underlying tension there as the weeks passed.

As the court dates approached, the three of you spent a lot of time together working on that vital case there in Andy’s home. The evening usually ended the same way. The three of you in the guest room. In the living room. In the kitchen. One night they laid you out on Andy’s dining room table like a buffet, tormented and fucked you until you were dozing. You slept through someone carrying you to bed, slept through to the next morning.

It was a tired you’d grown accustomed to. You yawned there at your desk, waiting for them to get back. You probably could have learned the verdict of the case on social media. But you couldn’t fool either of them. Especially, Andy. They’d know if your reaction to the verdict wasn’t genuine and you didn’t want to disappoint them.

Mike strutted into the office first that evening and you grinned. Andy followed him, barely holding back a smile and confirming your suspicions.

“You won?” you asked excitedly.

“We won,” Andy told you, grinning.

Running out from behind the desk, you gave each of them a hug. You had to keep it polite because there were others in the office. A couple of secretaries, various interns. It was the reason all three of you made an effort not to act any differently than you had before your private arrangement.

It was almost the end of the day. All of you who worked for the firm gathered as the two of them went over the verdict and the likely sentencing. They thanked you all for your efforts and told you all to go home early.

When you caught Andy’s eye, thinking to go back to your desk, he winked at you. “That goes for you too.”

Really?

You went back around your desk to get your things. Andy followed you.

“We’ll be right behind you,” he said low in your ear. Then he pressed a credit card into your hand. “Order takeout. Anything you want. We’re celebrating tonight.”

You smiled, nodded. “Thank you.”

You left with the others, getting in your car, and headed first for the store to get some things you were aware you needed. Your mind was on what would make a good dinner tonight. Winning the case was special.

In the last few weeks since your arrangement began, you were learning a lot about your bosses. Mike loved spicy food, lighter and healthier dishes. Then he indulged in expensive scotch. Andy favored decadent dishes, rich in flavor and heavier. His poison was good whiskey, particularly fine bourbon.

When it came to sex? You grinned to yourself as you thought about their individual preferences there.

Your younger boss was up for anything all the time. He enjoyed tormenting you with his mouth and hands until you were incoherent mess and then he’d fuck you. Mike loved pushing you to the edge until you were in tears, until you were so eager for the release he withheld from you that you’d beg him to let you come. And if you tried to get Andy to intercede for you, he’d get Andy to hold you down and torture you even more.

Andy was a little older and more romantic. It was important to him to set the mood. Even on crazy busy nights when you were all sorting through notes, trying to find a new angle on the case, it was the little things Andy did. He’d sit next to you on the couch, pull your feet into his lap to massage them and he was so good at that. When he knew you were tired from a long day at the office, or from their attentions the night before, he’d serve you dinner or run you a bath. Andy enjoyed sex as much as any man, but he appreciated intimacy. And he had the advantage of having you live in his home. No matter how the evening went, if Andy was there, you felt taken care of, safe.

More than once you felt grateful that it was a temporary arrangement and that feelings weren’t involved. How would a woman ever choose between the two gorgeous men?

As you got back into your car, some ideas came to you. You were so caught up in coming up with a celebratory dinner, that you weren’t as aware of your surroundings as you should have been.

There was a wonderful Spanish restaurant that Andy talked about, but you’d never been there. The staff were so friendly. All you’d had to do was drop Andy’s name and they helped you put together a dinner of sumptuous, exotic Catalan coast seafood. They’d even sold you white wine that they recommended with the meal. Oh, it cost a fortune but from what they told you it was light and flavorful which would make Mike happy. But it was upscale and from one of Andy’s favorite restaurants.

In short, you were pretty damn proud of yourself.

It wasn’t until you’d pulled up in the driveway with everything that you felt it. You felt like someone was watching you.

Before it could occur to you to be nervous about that, Andy pulled in behind you with Mike next to him in his Audi. They were talking away in there, no doubt still preening about the case. Everything else was forgotten as you climbed out of your car, running around to the other side to grab dinner.

Strong arms came around, grabbing the larger bags. Andy snuck a kiss before letting you get the rest.

“I love your idea for dinner,” he told you. That smile had your heart racing. You loved making Andy happy. Of the two of them, he was always harder to impress.

“I was hoping so,” you told them, smiling.

Mike led the way, opening the door and disabling the alarm system. The case was all they could talk about as you all headed for the kitchen, working together to get dinner unpacked and served up. Mike was quick to get into the wine, encouraging you to drink up as you helped get everything plated.

Over dinner, they told you how everything went leading up to the verdict. Both were pretty proud of themselves, and they deserved to be. You’d all been working on the case for months.

“With this we should be able to get bigger cases,” Mike mused as the three of you got seated at the dining room table. “This is next level.”

Andy cocked a brow at him. He was always the realist, but he was having a trouble keeping a smile from his lips at the thought. “Maybe so,” he said after a moment.

“We can take on other cases that matter,” Mike pointed out. “We’ve got a winning team.”

You had to agree with that. Each of them was good lawyers but together? They were a pretty formidable force in the courtroom.

You raised your glass to them. “The best team I’ve ever worked for.”

They cut each other a look and you quickly took a drink. You’d meant it. Or did they think you only said it because of the arrangement?

Andy shook his head. “You’re part of this team. You put in as many hours as we did on the Fields case. Not sure we could have pulled it off without you.”

You had to laugh. “I’m not a brilliant lawyer like the two of you. If I was able to help, I’ll take that.”

“You’re still important to us,” Mike told you, charming you with a grin.

By the time you’d finished eating, you were all a couple of glasses of wine in, which was plenty for you. Still, you gathered the dishes and tried to clean up. You’d just put your own plate in the sink when someone pressed into you from behind and carefully took it from your hands and placed it in the sink.

Heated kisses pressed into the side of your neck. Something else that was heated pressed into your lower back.

“Leave them,” Mike purred into your ear.

Andy had said you were all celebrating tonight. What did they have in mind for you?

When Mike ground himself into you, you shivered. All their attentions over the last few weeks had you conditioned to their touch. There were times in the office when one of them winked at you passing by your desk and you turned into a needy puddle in your chair.

What had you become?

Normally, this was the part where they took this to Andy’s guest room unless one or both of them were too impatient. But something felt different tonight, you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

Mike’s hands slid up your waist, sliding over your breasts as he continued to layer kisses down your neck. Your thighs clenched in anticipation, you just couldn’t help it.

When Mike scooped you up to carry bridal style, you licked your lips to watch Andy loosen his tie and pull it free from his shirt. He followed Mike who carried you back into the living room where Andy had built a nice fire in the fireplace. It was cooler this evening, the chill of fall in the air.

When Andy went to pull the drapes closed, you knew they meant to stay there. It wasn’t the first time. But the coffee table had been moved and a comforter had been put down in front of the fire.

Carefully lowering you onto it, you shivered at the warmth from the cheery blaze in front of you. From the hunger in two sets of blue eyes on you.

What were they up to?

“Hang on,” Mike told you, dashing out of the room.

Andy toed off his shoes and sat next to you on the comforter. His smile did things to your insides as he toyed with the strap of your dress shoes, careful in removing it. Then he removed the other, pressing a kiss to your knee as he did.

As his hands smoothed up your calves, fingertips just skimming under the hem of your skirt, Mike returned with the unopened bottle of wine in an ice-filled bucket. There were three fresh glasses in his hand.

“You’re trying to get me drunk,” you teased them. “Is that it?”

“No.” Andy crawled closer, a long arm reaching behind you to unzip your skirt. “Today was a good day for us. Tonight is all about you.”

Really?

Mike filled a glass for you, held it to your lips as Andy worked the skirt down your body. The wine was sweet on your tongue, almost as sweet as the grin Andy wore when he saw what was under your skirt.

And what wasn’t under there.

Hooking one long finger at the edge of your black stocking, he pulled it to snap back against your skin. The lace tops gripped your thighs, but there were no panties to hide the glistening flesh between them. You sucked in a breath at the excited look that earned you.

“The whole day?” Andy wondered aloud with a grin.

You nodded. “If we didn’t win the Fields case, I thought maybe it would cheer you up.”

And you were a little nervous about it because you’d never done anything like that in your entire life.

Mike joined the two of you on the comforter, encouraging you to finish your wine. Once you had, he took the glass from you with one hand as the other slid up your thigh and into your wet heat. You gasped as his fingers explored you, teasing circles around your clit.

“You’ve been thinking about celebrating too, huh?” Mike looked so pleased.

Leaning in, Mike claimed your lips in a heated kiss as Andy moved closer. Someone was unbuttoning your blouse as Andy’s lips teased your neck. The brush of whiskers and heated lips, the feel of Andy’s hands as he pulled off your blouse and bra pushed up the need you’d battled all day. Had your body weeping, clenching for them.

You’d never been that into sex until now. Before sex was good, depending on your partner, but it had been almost as transactional as your current situation. Sex helped you move things from a hook up to a relationship. Maybe one day you’d find someone that cared about you, wanted to spend their life with you. If the sex was good, all the better.

Now? Either of your lawyers could make you melt with a glance.

Two sets of hands skimmed over your body, and you shivered. When Mike’s lips blazed a trail down your jaw to your neck, Andy’s mouth claimed yours as a finger traced around one of your nipples. When it tightened into a hard little peak, he covered it with his mouth. As Mike chained kisses over your neck and shoulder, he slid a finger into your channel. And you tried to clench around that digit. It wasn’t enough.

You didn’t mean for the whine to escape your lips, but it did. Mike eased back from you with a knowing smirk. His fingers made quick work of the buttons of his dress shirt, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him as he stripped it off. While Andy teased your breast, his fingers skimming the tender flesh at your inner thigh, Mike resumed teasing your pussy. When he slid two fingers inside you, teasing your walls, you were breathless and needy.

Mike stole a kiss. “Want to try something new tonight?” he whispered against your lips.

Andy paused at the question before stripping off his own shirt.

Mike’s fingers slid in and out of you in a way he knew would make you squirm. His lips were warm on yours.

“Use your words, beautiful,” he prompted you.

“What did you… want to try?” you managed to ask.

His large fingers pulled free of you, and you whined again. A single finger slid on the wetness between your lower lips, carefully, and slid back to your other entrance. You froze at the unfamiliar touch.

You didn’t miss the warning look Andy shot him. Wrapping his arms around you, he eased you back into his solid warmth. His lips were gentle on your shoulder. “Easy,” he whispered.

Mike was nothing if not tenacious. His finger lightly traced around that tight ring as he brushed more careful kisses over your lips.

“Never tried anything like that, huh?” he asked.

“No,” you whispered as his finger continued his campaign.

“Mike…” Andy started.

Pulling back to gaze into your eyes, Mike’s smile was gentle. “Want to try? If you really don’t like it, we’ll stop.”

Andy cut him another look.

“I’ll stop,” he corrected. “But if you relax, and trust me, this just might be amazing for all three of us.”

It was then when it occurred to you what he wanted. And Andy wasn’t interfering yet. You knew he absolutely would if he thought you were uncomfortable. It was the biggest reason that you nodded.

“Lay back, Andy,” Mike directed.

And Andy did, keeping his gaze on you. His gaze was caring, willing you to trust him.

“Okay, baby,” Mike purred in your ear. “Why don’t you sit on Andy’s face? Be a good girl for him while I go get something.”

Tipsy on lust and wine, you didn’t resist when they moved you over Andy. Embarrassment burned and gave way to desire as his strong hands wrapped around your thighs and situated you just where he wanted you. With his mouth, he started burning you down. The tip of his tongue traced around your clit until you were fighting his hold. He held you there to tease around your entrance, making you desperate for more in a short period of time.

You weren’t even aware that Mike had returned until you felt him behind you, the heat of his excitement drawing your attention to the way his hands skimmed over your back, feather light. While Andy took you apart with his mouth, started fucking you with that talented tongue, Mike had goose flesh rising down your back. Those hands smoothed over your hips, and ass. The delicacy of his touch combined with the wicked slide of Andy’s tongue to make you crazy. Your hands clawed at Andy’s thick hair, and you unwittingly moved your hips with him, wanting more of that.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the small white tube in Mike's hand. When Mike’s finger slid slowly between the globes of your ass, you shivered. Tingles of pleasure were already racing through your bloodstream from Andy’s efforts. That finger was slick, circling the untried ring of your ass with care. Mike kept that touch light, tempting.

Their attentions pushed you to the edge of release. You were a desperate thing straddling Andy’s face with Mike’s finger pushing carefully into your other opening. You felt good. You were so close…

Pressing up against you, Mike’s heat seeped into you. His lips teased your ear. “You gonna come on Andy’s tongue, beautiful?”

You gasped when he pulled the lobe of your ear between his lips. His finger pushed a little deeper into your ass.

“The sooner you come for us, the sooner you can ride his cock, baby,” Mike whispered. “I know you want him to fill that little pussy right now.”

Between those words and Andy’s teasing tongue, you came hard. Your cries had Andy moaning into the center of you, intensifying the waves that shook you to your core. While you rode out that euphoria, Mike worked a second finger into your ass. By the time you were aware of that slight stretch and burn, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It did remind you how empty your pussy felt.

Mike held you there and you felt Andy shifting beneath you. He was frantically undoing his slacks, pushing them down with his boxers. With Mike’s help, he eased you down his body until you felt the heated stalk of his cock against the wet flesh that craved it.

“Andy, please…” you begged. You wanted more and Mike’s teasing fingers were doing a lot to push your craving higher.

“I’ve got you,” Andy whispered with your juices shining off his lips and beard. His color was high as he positioned you over his cock, he and Mike guiding you to sink down on it. Andy stretched your walls, filled you up just the way you needed right now.

You were so full, rotating your hips to take all of Andy and reveling in how fucking wonderful he felt. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to slowly start moving on him. Your movements didn’t dislodge Mike’s fingers. The fullness as he pressed a third finger into you, combined with Andy’s length, had your heart racing in excitement.

Like any woman, you’d thought about taking two men at once. You never thought you’d ever have the opportunity. But as you slid up and down on Andy’s cock and Mike’s fingers fucked your ass, you wanted more. You needed more.

When those fingers left you, you unapologetically whined. Andy took advantage of the moment to fuck up into you with firm quick strokes. You heard the sound of a zipper, felt Mike shifting behind you. When he moved behind you, pressing the head of himself at the opening of your ass you froze. Andy slowed down, his heated gaze meeting yours.

“Anything hurts,” he said in a breathy voice, “or you don’t like it, tell me. We’ll stop.”

You were struggling to breathe as Mike pushed past that tight ring. It stung.

“Tell me you understand,” Andy said gently.

You winced, as Mike’s slick cock pushed in a little further. But you nodded.

You clenched around Andy as Mike worked his way into you. It was uncomfortable at first and your hands clutched Andy’s shoulders tightly.

“Look at me,” Andy bid you. “Breathe, okay? Breathe. Try to relax.”

You did and once Mike was fully seated in you, the sting eased. When Mike began to move, he slid easily enough with the help of the lubricant. Andy watched you but didn’t move, allowing you to adjust.

“Oh, fuck,” Mike muttered behind you. “Your ass feels incredible, baby.”

It was feeling a lot better and after a couple of moments, you were moving with him. At that, Andy started moving in you again and the feeling of being impaled on both of them was unreal. The thought of what you were doing made you a slave to whatever they wanted. Two sets of hands gripped your ass. Two cocks worked into you, hitting every pleasure point you possessed.

Mike’s hand clutched in your hair, using it to pull your head back. With your neck bared to his teasing mouth, he took advantage as Andy bounced you on his cock. Mike worked into you from behind with care. You could tell he was holding back.

“You’re so good to us, baby,” Mike whispered into your skin. “Taking us both. You look so good riding our cocks… You feel like heaven.”

Andy, like you, seemed beyond speech. His lips gaped open as he watched you, pulling you down on his cock again and again. When he eased you down to him, his mouth claimed yours. You could taste yourself on his lips. When you couldn’t breathe anymore, you broke the kiss. Andy dipped his head to capture one of your nipples with his mouth. The wet lash of his tongue had you unraveling again, clenching around both of them as the orgasm rode you as hard as your two lovers were.

You were wilted between them, but they weren’t done. Their motions intensified as they chased their own release. Lying against Andy, you let them dominate you as they thrust into you faster and faster.

Mike reached his end first, pulling free of you and shooting his warm release all over your ass. Andy stayed seated inside of you, his cock punching up into you until a sob tore from his throat and he pumped his release into you like it was the last thing he’d ever do.

Andy’s heart was a steady cadence in your ear once you collapsed over him. His breath was as rushed as yours and his hands skimmed over your back with infinite care. Soft kisses pressed into your hair as he held you.

You felt the linen of Mike’s shirt as he wiped his release from your skin. Leaning up, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. You knew he was about to leave and you felt bad you were so out of it at the moment.

“You heading out?” Andy’s voice was a rumble beneath you.

“I think I’ll crash here for the night,” Mike sounded tired.

Andy’s hands froze. Blowing out a sigh, he rolled to his side and eased you onto the comforter. You stretched, got comfortable. Andy pulled the comfort over you to keep you from being chilled without him.

“I’ll be back for cuddles in just a minute,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your ear. You heard a little shuffling before you drifted off to sleep.

***

Andy pulled on his slacks as he led Mike from the living room. It wasn’t a conversation their girl needed to hear.

His girl.

Mike had pulled on his boxers, followed Andy to his home office.

Scrubbing a hand down his face, the smell of her was all over him, Andy regarded his partner.

“Is there a problem?” Mike asked, arms folded across his tatted chest. “With me staying over?”

“We didn’t talk about that,” Andy pointed out.

“There are a lot of things we didn’t talk about,” Mike came back.

Andy shook his head, heading for the mini bar to the side of his desk. He knew where this was going. He just didn’t want to have this discussion.

“Such as?” he asked, pulling out two glasses and pouring bourbon.

“When we came up with this, deal,” Mike said, “I guess I just assumed we’d get equal time with her.”

Handing him a glass, Andy drank from his own. “You know why she has to stay here, Mike. Your place isn’t safe. No offense.”

His partner nodded, his gaze dropped. He had no argument to make there.

“That’s why I don’t see why my staying here is a problem,” Mike went on. “It would give me more time with her. Even the playing field.”

“You want more sex?” Andy tried, hoping that was what Mike was getting at but suspecting that wasn’t his motivation.

“No. I want more time with her,” Mike explained. “It’s not just about sex. Not anymore. She’s more than that to me.”

Andy knew.

“I don’t know,” Andy stalled, having more bourbon.

“What’s the problem?” Mike wanted to know. “We have three-way sex pretty often. Why would actually sleeping together be an issue?”

Mike went further than Andy expected. He could see the younger lawyer asking to sleep next to her in the guest room. But was he really suggesting they all share a bed?

Tired as he was, Andy’s mind still spun. “Here and there I guess it would be okay. But often? People talk.”

Mike rolled his eyes, setting the glass of alcohol on Andy’s desk untouched. “How many nights have I been over here until midnight or after, huh? We’re partners in a law firm. No one would give a shit.”

“I really don’t want some of your friends showing up,” Andy admitted. "I don't want them around her."

“Fuck, are you really going to bring up Ali stopping by here last week?” Mike asked, his frustration growing. “It wasn’t drugs. I paid him to dig up some dirt for me. It was part of the reason we won the case today in case you don't remember.”

“I still don’t want anyone like that around my house,” Andy warned. “Or her.”

That stopped him, had Mike pacing and raking a hand through his sandy hair.

“Look,” Mike said after a minute. “When we came up with this idea, it sounded great. But I didn’t immediately grasp the advantages you have in this situation. I want more.”

Draining his glass, Andy regarded his partner.

“She can’t be at my place,” Mike said before he could. “I know that. But I’m sick of being a guest star in the bedroom while we ride this contract out. I want equal time. I deserve that.”

“Mike,” Andy struggled with what he wanted to say. “If I agree to this, it’s just until the six months is up.”

Mike stopped, his brows rose. “And then?”

Andy blew out an exhale.

“And then the contract is up,” Andy told him. “She will have kept her end of the arrangement. She’s then free to do what she wants. Choose who she wants.”

Andy just hoped to God she chose him.

“That include living here?” Mike demanded.

Yes. Andy hoped she’d want to stay.

Mike shook his head. “I can’t match that. And I’m… I’m sorry, I’m not willing to just let you have her.”

“Excuse me?”

“I have a lot to offer her too.” Mike meant it.

Andy knew he did and he was younger.

But how were they going to deal with the situation?

“So how does this play out?” Andy threw it back at him.

Mike studied him for a moment, thinking. That razor-sharp mind was going a mile a minute. It was one of Mike’s strengths. And weaknesses. Mike so easily got lost in his head. Feelings? He didn’t navigate so well.

“When the contract is over,” Mike said finally, “we leave it up to her.”

Oh, it sounded good. But Andy knew it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“Whoever she chooses, the other one just needs to accept it,” Mike said flatly. And with the way his chin lifted when he said it, Andy knew he intended for their girl to choose him.

Andy nodded.

But he had a very different plan.

@21stcenturywitchcraft @abyssaint @alyssaforever2671   @buckybarnesplumwhore @bval-1 @caffiend-queen @candy-and-writing @capsicle-shield @chaoticfiretaconerd @chrisevansgirl @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @coldmuffinbanditshoe @daughterofthenight117 @hv-chw3 @iheartsebandchris @imanuglywombat @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @justrae9903 @lok1sgrl @lokislastlove @mariaenchanted @marvelouspottering @maxwelllee2020 @nannies-dont-date @nekoannie-chan @nerdwholikesword @notyourtypicalrose   @peaceinourtime82 @rainbowkisses31 @rayofdawnworld @richonne4life @rissysthoughts-blog @saiyanprincessswanie @scarletsoldierrr @shygirl-00 @stargazingfangirl18 @supernaturaldean67 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @team-iron-wannabe-man @titty-teetee @tonib666 @villanellevi @weebid @what-is-your-backupplan-today @what-is-your-wish @xoxabs88xox @onetwo3000 @rosalynshields @naturalthrone22 @marvelovernfan @made-ofsilkandroses @mustangshelby04 @starlightcrystalline @gotnofucks @nerdygirl8203 @princesssterek @vampy-doll @alexakeyloveloki @littlelurkinglark @bluemusickid @tenaciousperfectionunknown @marvelovernfan @violentyoshi

#Barber & Weiss #Andy Barber #Mike Weiss #Who gets the girl?

[oldguy56-world]

The Weight

'Take a load off Fanny'

Deep meaning to those words this time of year. If you can raise your right arm if you put on a few pounds over the past several weeks please do so. If you didn't raise your arm do it anyway and watch the underside of your arm. If it is still moving a couple of seconds later you are fooling yourself. Writing this week's blog is taking a little longer because I have fat finger syndrome. (This is a real thing. You can find details on my website www.theyboughtit.ca)

Yes I put on a few extra lb's but it appears to be only on my fingers. If you see me about town and notice I am wearing track pants a lot it is because they are just so comfortable. No other reason. If it looks like I am smuggling potatoes in the back pockets maybe I am. Please mind your own business.

There are many reasons we put on extra weight. Here are a few:

All your friends are overindulging and in this age of FOMO we all want to be part of everything.

Everyone wants you to look worse than they do so they make sure to load you up.

The goodies are there and we are weak.

You can just watch others eat but what is the fun in that.

So how do we avoid this annual dilemma? Is the agony we put ourselves through from Jan-Mar to get back to our normal weight worth those fleeting moments of personal satisfaction in December? Here are some tips for next year, as this year it is much too late. The good news is that 2024 is a leap year so there is both more time to purge those pounds and prepare for Christmas 2024. Aren't leap years fun?

Don't hang out with younger people that can eat anything and never gain an ounce. Not only will it keep your weight down but it helps keep homicidal thoughts out of your head.

Don't socialize with older heavy people because they just don't care. Avoid getting sucked into their attitudes and life style.

Never visit that relative (or friend, and we all have at least one) that is a phenomenal baker. These are dangerous people and possibly minions of Satan.

Do not go to any special Christmas buffets. This is a trap hoping you will justify eating five plates of food because of the season. Also avoid restaurants that offer 'endless' or 'bottomless' fries. If you don't think these are a problem visit any McDonald's and count the skinny people. Or try to count them if you can find one.

If you visit someone for Christmas supper and you arrive at 4:00 to find they have 32 different snacks out to 'tide you over' just shoot yourself in the foot so you can immediately go to the hospital and save the aggravation of months of working out later on.

Do not go to Bulk Barn without taking your own measured containers. If you go with their bags be prepared to face the consequences. The name Bulk Barn does not refer to how they merchandise their goods, it refers to what customers should expect happens to them if they go often enough.

I have to go now. Still 2 hours of rigorous workout left for today.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: We become what we do.

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the sea of monsters

0.8 an offer i can refuse

warnings : cussing, monster attack, some psychotic ideology

word count : 3.3k

0.8 "You're So Vain" Except I'm Really Not, Certain People Just Expect Me to Be

Luke wanted to go alone since he was the sneakiest of us, but I refused, saying that it was too dangerous and it'd be bad if we got split up. Either we all went together, or nobody went.

"Nobody!" Tyson voted. "Please?"

But in the end he came along, nervously chewing on his huge fingernails. He stopped after I gave him a stern look, wary that the loud crunching noises he was making would draw unwanted attention.

We stopped at our cabin long enough to gather our stuff. We figured whatever happened, we would not be staying another night aboard the muder-zombie-enchanted cruise ship, even if they did have an all-you-can-eat buffet.

I kept Riptide and Shaker in the scabbards and the vitamins and thermos from Hermes were at the top of my bag. I didn't want Tyson to carry everything, but he insisted, and Luke pointed out that it would be easier to fight without the straps of the bag constricting my movements.

Besides, Tyson could carry three full duffel bags over his shoulder as easily as I could carry a single backpack.

We sneaked through the corridors, following the ship's YOU ARE HERE signs toward the admiralty suite. We hid whenever someone passed by, but most of the people we saw were just glassy-eyed zombie passengers.

It was seriously creepy, seeing people look right through us, like we were invisible, and at the same time state those programmed responses mechanically. So creepy.

As we came up the stairs to deck thirteen, where the admiralty suite was supposed to be, Luke hissed, "Hide!" and roughly dragged us into a supply closet.

A second later, I heard a couple of guys coming down the hall.

"You see that Aethiopian drakon in the cargo hold?" one of them said.

The other laughed. "Yeah, it's awesome."

Luke squeezed my arm hard. I frowned, getting a vague feeling of recognition towards the first guy's voice.

"I hear they got two more coming," the second voice said. "They keep arriving at this rate, oh, man— no contest!"

The voices faded down the corridor.

"That was Brian Jennings!" Luke exclaimed when they were gone, looking stricken. "He was in my Cabin, but he didn't come back this summer."

I sort of recalled Brian from the summer before. He was one of those undetermined campers who got stuck in the Hermes cabin because his Olympian dad or mom never claimed him. Kind of standoffish.

"I guess we know why, now," I replied slowly, frowning deeply. "But what's another half-blood doing here?"

"I don't know," Luke said, shaking his head. "It makes no sense."

We kept going down the corridor. I didn't need maps anymore to know I was getting close to Annabeth and/or Cody. I sensed something cold and unpleasant— the presence of evil.

"Angel, wait." Luke stopped suddenly. "Look at this."

He stood in front of a glass wall looking down into the multi-story canyon that ran through the middle of the ship. At the bottom was the Promenade— a mall full of shops— but that's not what had caught Luke's attention.

A group of monsters had assembled in front of the candy store: a dozen Laistrygonian giants like the ones who'd attacked me with dodgeballs, two hellhounds, and a few even stranger creatures— humanoid females with twin serpent tails instead of legs. I recognized them a second before Luke said their names, his voice grim.

"Scythian Dracaenae," he whispered, his breath warm on my ear. "Dragon women."

The monsters made a semicircle around a young guy in Greek armor who was hacking on a straw dummy. My stomach churned and I leaned away slightly when I realized the dummy was wearing an orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt. As we watched, the guy in armor stabbed the dummy through its belly and ripped upward. Straw flew everywhere. The monsters cheered and howled. I shuddered in horror.

Luke stepped away from the window. Both of our faces were ashen, I could tell from the window's reflection.

"Come on," I urged him, trying to sound braver than I felt. "The sooner we find Annabeth and Cody the better."

At the end of the hallway were double oak doors that looked like they must lead somewhere important. When we were thirty feet away, Tyson stopped. "Voices inside."

"You can hear that far?" I asked.

Tyson closed his eye like he was concentrating hard. Then his voice changed, becoming a disturbing approximation of Cody's. "— the prophecy ourselves. The fools won't know which way to turn."

Before I could react, Tyson's voice changed again, becoming deeper and gruffer, like the other guy we'd heard talking to Annabeth outside the cafeteria. "You really think the old horseman is gone for good?"

Tyson laughed Annabeth's laugh, and spoke again in Cody's voice. "They can't trust him. Not with the skeletons in his closet. The poisoning of the tree was the final straw."

Luke shivered. "Stop that, Tyson! How are you doing that? It's freaky."

Tyson opened his eye, looking puzzled. "Just listening," he claimed. I supposed that it was just a Cyclopes thing.

"Keep going," I told him firmly. This was useful. "What else are they saying?"

Tyson closed his eye again. He hissed in the gruff man's voice: "Quiet!" Then Annabeth's voice, whispering: "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Tyson said in the gruff voice. "Right outside."

Too late, I realized what was happening.

I just had time to cry, "Run!" when the doors of the stateroom burst open and there was Cody, flanked by two hairy giants armed with javelins, their bronze tips aimed right at our chests.

"Well," Cody said with a crooked smile. "If it isn't my old friend, Luke, and his girlfriend. Come right in." Given the weapons pointed at our hearts, we couldn't exactly refuse the kind offer.

***

The stateroom was beautiful, and it was horrible.

The beautiful part: Huge windows curved along the back wall, looking out over the stern of the ship. The green sea and blue sky stretched all the way to the horizon. A Persian rug covered the floor. Two plush sofas occupied the middle of the room, with a canopied bed in one corner and a mahogany dining table in the other. The table was loaded with food— pizza boxes, bottles of soda, and a stack of roast beef sandwiches on a silver platter.

If it were just that, minus the monsters and terrifying parts, I would be tempted to like the room.

But the awful part completely overshadowed any nice parts. On a velvet dais at the back of the room lay a ten-foot-long golden casket, with an unnatural coldness radiating from it.

A sarcophagus, engraved with Ancient Greek scenes of cities in flames and heroes dying grisly deaths. Despite the sunlight streaming through the windows, the casket made the whole room feel cold.

"Well," Annabeth said, gesturing around herself proudly and grinning broadly at Luke. "A little nicer than Cabin Eleven, huh, Luke?"

She and Cody had both changed since last summer. Instead of shorts and a T-shirt, Cody wore a button-down shirt, khaki pants, and leather loafers. His dark hair, which used to cover his eyes, was now clipped short. He looked like he was showing off what the fashionable college-age villain was wearing to Harvard this year.

Annabeth was dressed in a long pair of cargo pants, a red blouse made of silk, and a pair of black ballet flats. Her blonde curls were tied back in a plait, and the knife Luke had given her when they first met hung from her hip. I saw Luke cast it a bitter glare, his expression the darkest I'd ever seen it, save for when I had first told him and Chiron of Annabeth and Cody's betrayal.

"Sit," Annabeth told us with a smug smile. She waved her hand and three dining chairs scooted themselves into the center of the room.

None of us sat.

Her large friends were still pointing their javelins at us. They looked like twins, but they weren't human. They stood about eight feet tall, for one thing, and wore only blue jeans, probably because their enormous chests were already shag-carpeted with thick brown fur. They had claws for fingernails, feet like paws. Their noses were snoutlike, and their teeth were all pointed canines.

"Where are our manners?" Cody said smoothly. "These are our assistants, Agrius and Oreius. Perhaps you've heard of them."

I said nothing. Despite the javelins pointed at me, it wasn't the bear twins who scared me.

I'd contemplated what would happen when I inevitably met Annabeth and Cody again many times since they'd tried to kill me last summer. I wanted to kill them both, so badly for everything that they had done. Everything that they had almost done. But now that we were face-to-face, I had to clench my hands into fist to stop them from shaking.

"You don't know Agrius and Oreius's story?" Annabeth asked. "I'm not surprised, wisdom has never been your strong suit."

"Clearly it isn't yours either," I interjected coolly, in a typical display of my inability to keep my mouth shut. "Given the company that you keep nowadays."

She glared coldly at me, but Cody's grip restrained her from attacking. She continued telling the story of the Bear Twins. "Their mother... Well, it's sad, really. Aphrodite ordered the young woman to fall in love. She refused and ran to Artemis for help. Artemis let her become one of her maiden huntresses, but Aphrodite got her revenge. She bewitched the young woman into falling in love with a bear. When Artemis found out, she abandoned the girl in disgust. Typical of the gods, wouldn't you say? They fight with one another and the poor humans get caught in the middle. The girl's twin sons here, Agrius and Oreius, have no love for Olympus."

"They like half-bloods well enough, though," Cody added with a sly smile.

"For lunch," Agrius growled. His gruff voice was the one I'd heard talking with Annabeth earlier.

"Hehe! Hehe!" His brother Oreius laughed, licking his fur-lined lips. He kept laughing like he was having an asthmatic fit until The Traitors and Agrius all stared at him.

"Shut up, you idiot!" Agrius growled. "Go punish yourself!"

Oreius whimpered. He trudged over to the corner of the room, slumped onto a stool, and banged his forehead against the dining table, making the silver plates rattle. I felt kinda bad for him, actually. He seemed like he needed a hug.

Annabeth and Cody both acted like this was perfectly normal behavior.

"So, I hope that you enjoyed your last year of life, Allie," Cody smirked. "What have you been doing with it?"

"Not much. Few movies and T.V. shows here and there. Fashion week was pretty fun— I always love a good trip to Milan. Performed at the Grammys, and a few other award shows," I replied coldly, not wanting to make it obvious how difficult it was to think about that Grammys performance. "Though, I know what you've been doing. You poisoned Thalia's tree."

For a second, I thought that I saw regret flash over Annabeth's face. But it disappeared too quickly for me to be sure.

"Right to the point, eh?" Cody sighed. "Okay, sure I poisoned the tree. So what?"

"How could you, Annabeth?" Luke sounded so furious I thought that he might run straight forward and attack her. "Thalia sacrificed herself to save your life! Our lives! How could you just poison her tree and dishonor her—"

"I didn't dishonor her!" Annabeth snapped, standing and glaring at him. "The gods dishonored her, Luke! If Thalia were alive, she'd be on my side."

"You're wrong!"

"If you knew what was coming, you'd understand—"

"I understand you want to destroy the camp!" he yelled. "You're a traitor!"

Annabeth shook her head. "The gods have blinded you. Can't you imagine a world without them, Luke? What good is that ancient history you study? Three thousand years of baggage! The West is rotten to the core. It has to be destroyed. Join me! We can start the world anew. We could use your experience, Luke."

"Because you have none of your own!"

Her eyes narrowed. Annabeth had always resented not being allowed on quests, and only once tried going back to her father. It hadn't ended well.

"I know you, Luke," she insisted. "You deserve better than tagging along on some hopeless quest to save the camp. Half-Blood Hill will be overrun by monsters within the month. The heroes who survive will have no choice but to join us or be hunted to extinction. You really want to be on a losing team... with company like this?" She pointed at Tyson.

"Hey!" I snapped, temper flaring as I stepped in front of my brother defensively.

"Traveling with a Cyclops," she spat. "Talk about dishonoring Thalia's memory! You of all people—"

"Shut up!" he shouted.

"Leave him alone," I ordered. "And leave Tyson out of this."

Cody laughed scornfully. "Oh, yeah, we heard. Your father claimed him." I must have looked surprised, because he smiled smugly. "Yes, Allie, we know all about that. And about your plan to find the Fleece. What were those coordinates, again... 30, 31, 75, 12? You see, we still have friends at camp who keep the two of us posted."

"Spies, you mean."

He shrugged. "How many insults from your father can you stand, Allie? You think he's grateful for you? You think Poseidon cares for you any more than he cares for this monster? You're far too pretty to be treated like that." 

I gave a very dramatic scoff and eye roll while Luke just got angrier. Tyson clenched his fists and made a rumbling sound down in his throat.

"'Far too pretty.' Why the hell do people keep saying that? What does me being pretty have to do with anything? My good looks have already gotten me all of the power in the world that I could ever need," I snapped back. "Or do you keep mentioning that because you think I actually care about shit like that? I'm not so vain, you know." 

Annabeth chuckled bitterly, turning away from her and Luke's staring contest. "The gods are using you, Allie. Do you have any idea what's in store for you if you reach your twenty-first birthday? Has Chiron even told you the prophecy?"

I hated that she knew just how to throw me off balance.

Twenty-first birthday?

I mean, I knew Chiron had received a prophecy from the Oracle about the possible destruction of the world many years ago. I knew that part of it was probably about me. I knew it would happen sometime during my twenties. But, on my twenty-first birthday (if I even made it there)? I didn't like the sound of that.

"I know what I need to know," I managed. "Like who my enemies are."

"Then you're a fool."

Tyson smashed the nearest dining chair to splinters. "Allie is not a fool!"

Before I could stop him, he charged Cody. His fists came down toward Cody's head— a double overhead blow that would've knocked a hole in titanium— but the bear twins intercepted.

They each caught one of Tyson's arms and stopped him cold. They pushed him back and Tyson stumbled. He fell to the carpet so hard the deck shook.

"Too bad, Cyclops," Annabeth said, voice filled with spite. "Looks like my grizzly friends together are more than a match for your strength. Maybe I should let the two of them—"

"What's in the sarcophagus?" I demanded, frantic to distract her.

Both of their expressions grew maniacal, and if I had held any illusions as to them being insane before, that would have dealt with it swiftly.

"He is re-forming," Cody declared. "Little by little, we're calling his life force out of the pit. With every recruit who pledges our cause, another small piece appears—"

"You're insane," Luke said, as disgusted as I was at the very thought.

"Join us and you'll be rewarded. We have powerful friends, sponsors rich enough to buy this cruise ship and much more. Allie, you can have more than you have now— whatever you want. Live the life you live, just without people sexualizing you. You too, Luke, anything your heart desires!"

"Go to Tartarus," he spat in reply. 

I simply glared, hoping that erased any illusions of my being tempted by his suggestion. "I'm rich enough to buy this whole ship and more, sponsors not needed."

Cody sighed. "A shame." Annabeth looked away, hiding her face from Luke's betrayed, bitter glare. "Allie, you could be queen over everyone in the world. Make them do whatever you want. Respect you the way you should be respected. You won't have to be objectified anymore. Just say yes."

I hated that he knew how much I hated being sexualized. It was pretty much the only thing I hated about my job. Still, if this wackjob thought I was about to marry the fucking Lord of Time, he was about to be very disappointed.

"I've lived with it all these years, what's a few more? I'm sure as hell not about to be bribed into joining your little pity party against Olympus. So you both can go ahead and fuck yourselves." 

Cody shook his head and picked up something that looked like a TV remote and pressed a red button. Within seconds the door of the stateroom opened and two uniformed crew members came in, armed with nightsticks. They had the same glassy-eyed look like the other mortals I'd seen, but I had a feeling this wouldn't make them any less dangerous in a fight.

"Ah, good, security," Cody said, "I'm afraid we have some stowaways."

"Yes, sir," they said dreamily.

Cody turned to Oreius. "It's time to feed the Aethiopian drakon. Take these fools below and show them how it's done."

Oreius grinned stupidly. "Hehe! Hehe!"

"Let me go, too," Agrius grumbled. "My brother is worthless. That Cyclops—"

"Is no threat," Annabeth said. She glanced back at the golden casket, frowning as if something were troubling her. "Agrius, you're staying here. We have important matters to discuss."

"But—"

"Oreius, don't fail me. Stay in the hold to make sure the drakon is properly fed."

Oreius prodded us with his javelin and herded us out of the stateroom, followed by the two human security guards.

As I walked down the corridor with Oreius's javelin poking me in the back, I thought about what Annabeth had said and completely ignored Cody's offer— that the bear twins together were a match for Tyson's strength. But maybe separately...

We exited the corridor amidships and walked across an open deck lined with lifeboats. I knew the ship well enough to realize this would be our last look at the sunlight. Once we got to the other side, we'd take the elevator down into the hold, and that would be it.

I looked at Tyson and said, "Now."

Thank the gods, he understood. He turned and smacked Oreius thirty feet backward into the swimming pool, right into the middle of the zombie tourist family.

"Ah!" the kids yelled in unison. "We are not having a blast in the pool!"

One of the security guards drew his nightstick, but Luke knocked the wind out of him with a well-placed kick. The other guard ran for the nearest alarm box.

"Stop him!" Luke yelled, but it was too late.

Just before I banged him over the head with a deck chair, he hit the alarm.

Red lights flashed. Sirens wailed.

"Lifeboat!" I cried.

We ran for the nearest one.

By the time we got the cover off, monsters and more security men were swarming the deck, pushing aside tourists and waiters with trays of tropical drinks. A guy in Greek armor drew his sword and charged, but slipped in a puddle of piña colada. Laistrygonian archers assembled on the deck above us, notching arrows in their enormous bows.

"How do you launch this thing?" screamed Luke.

A hellhound leaped at me, but Tyson slammed it aside with a fire extinguisher.

"Get in!" I yelled. I pulled out Riptide and slashed the first volley of arrows out of the air. Any second now we would be overwhelmed.

The lifeboat was hanging over the side of the ship, high above the water. Luke and Tyson were having no luck with the release pulley.

I jumped in beside them.

"Hold on!" I yelled, and I cut the ropes.

A shower of arrows whistled over our heads as we free-fell toward the ocean.

*    *    *

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SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #female percy jackson #lullie #lukecastellan #trinitymia

[my-weird-news]

🔥 Epic Summer, Crazy Love Triangle Obsession Unveiled!

Summer Lovin' and Brotherly Beef: The Wild Ride of Love Triangles, Starring Belly and the Bros Oh, buckle up, my friends, because we're diving into the world of love triangles, and boy, is it a doozy! 🎢 We're venturing into the land of Jenny Han's young adult trilogy, "The Summer I Turned Pretty," and its TV adaptation that's got us all glued to our screens, "cause what's better than a classic love triangle, you ask? One with more twists than a pretzel factory! So picture this: we've got our teenage heroine, Belly (played by Lola Tung), sandwiched between two brothers - Conrad (played by Christopher Briney), who's got that whole "mysterious and emotionally distant" thing going on, and Jeremiah (played by Gavin Casalegno), the blond Abercrombie model-esque boy next door who's all bubbly and affectionate. But wait for it, in a season-one plot twist that could rival any telenovela, Belly makes out with Jeremiah while her heart was still doing the cha-cha for Conrad! 😘💔 Now, hold on a second. I'm a fan of love triangles, but this one's taking it to a whole new level. We're talking about this messy romantic circus happening while the boys' mom is on her way to the great beyond. And to top it off, Belly's mom is besties with the dying mom, which basically makes the whole situation feel like a soap opera crossed with a family reunion gone wrong. 🎭🏡 But oh, my dear readers, that's not all. It turns out that there's gold in them thar love triangles for writers and showrunners! It's like a treasure chest of endless sequels, TV seasons, and movies, and let's be real, who doesn't want more of those? It's like an all-you-can-eat buffet of drama and ship wars. Ahoy, mateys! 🏴‍☠️ According to some smarty-pants at Vanderbilt University, love triangles are like the secret sauce of forming fan communities. You know, those folks who can argue passionately about whether they're Team Conrad or Team Jeremiah? It's like the Twilight era all over again, and you remember what that did to our shopping habits, right? Nordstrom's Twilight fashion line was both a blessing and a curse. 💍🛍️ But here's the thing: love triangles aren't just about choosing between two hotties. They're like comfort food for our storytelling souls. Readers and viewers love that debate, that clear divide, and the conflict that keeps the story chugging along. It's like being part of a team, but with more drama and fewer uniforms. Go Team Edward, am I right? ⚔️ Now, let's not kid ourselves. Love triangles are like a roller coaster for our emotions, and sometimes they make us scratch our heads and go, "Wait, what?!" But hey, at least they keep us on the edge of our seats, wondering who's gonna win the heart of our darling Belly. But before we dive too deep into the romance abyss, let's acknowledge that love triangles are like a guilty pleasure snack. They make us feel like the center of the universe, and who doesn't love that attention, right? 🍕 And let's not forget about the quirky side characters. I mean, Belly's brother Steven and her BFF Taylor duking it out over who's the better brother, that's like watching a cat and a dog in a heated debate. 🐶🐱 Now, let's zoom out a bit and look at love triangles through a Jane Austen-flavored lens. Apparently, this whole "choosing between two dudes" thing has been around for ages. It's like Austen was the OG matchmaker, setting up her heroines with a virtuous choice and tossing in some moral dilemmas for extra spice. Who needs Tinder when you've got Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham, right? Swipe right on that bonnet! 👒💃 But hold your horses, because love triangles might not be as innocent as they seem. You know, there's something about them that tickles our narcissistic fancy. It's like a competition, a conquest of hearts, and we're the shiny trophy they're after. Move over, Miss Universe, we're the star of this show! 🏆🌟 And don't you dare forget about the power dynamics! Love triangles are like a seesaw of emotions, where one lover's rise is the other's fall. It's like a Shakespearean tragedy with a modern twist. Romeo and Juliet with a side of "It's Complicated." Oh, and the pressure, my friends, the pressure! Susannah, the mom who had her own love triangle agenda, piled on the expectations like it was a Thanksgiving buffet. Belly, you're "destined for one of her boys," she said. It's like someone handed her a script for a reality show and said, "Here, make these kids squirm." 🍗🥧 But let's not forget about that grand old house by the sea. It's like a character in its own right, pulling the strings in this dramatic love puppet show. Save the house, marry a brother, it's like a real estate and romance combo deal! Buy one brother's heart, get a beach house for free! 🏖️💞 But hold the phone! It seems like marginalized folks might be gravitating towards love triangles for a deeper reason. You see, it's like a chance to experience desire in a world that sometimes tells them they're not worth it. Who needs society's beauty standards when you've got two handsome hunks fighting over you? 💃💅 Alright, let's wrap this up like a love triangle with only two guys left standing. Love triangles are like that addictive drama series that you just can't stop watching, no matter how much you cringe. They're like the roller coasters of our emotions, taking us on a wild ride of passion and perplexity. But here's the real confession: I'm a sucker for love triangles, and no matter how messy they get, I'll be right there, popcorn in hand, ready for the next emotional loop-de-loop. 🍿🎢 Now, off you go, my dear readers, into the tangled web of love triangles, armed with a newfound understanding of their wild dynamics. And remember, in real life, it's probably best to leave the love triangles to the fictional realm. Embrace love, live free, and if you can, dodge the drama! ✌️🌈# Summer Lovin' and Brotherly Beef: The Wild Ride of Love Triangles, Starring Belly and the Bros Oh, buckle up, my friends, because we're diving into the world of love triangles, and boy, is it a doozy! 🎢 We're venturing into the land of Jenny Han's young adult trilogy, "The Summer I Turned Pretty," and its TV adaptation that's got us all glued to our screens, "cause what's better than a classic love triangle, you ask? One with more twists than a pretzel factory! So picture this: we've got our teenage heroine, Belly (played by Lola Tung), sandwiched between two brothers - Conrad (played by Christopher Briney), who's got that whole "mysterious and emotionally distant" thing going on, and Jeremiah (played by Gavin Casalegno), the blond Abercrombie model-esque boy next door who's all bubbly and affectionate. But wait for it, in a season-one plot twist that could rival any telenovela, Belly makes out with Jeremiah while her heart was still doing the cha-cha for Conrad! 😘💔 Now, hold on a second. I'm a fan of love triangles, but this one's taking it to a whole new level. We're talking about this messy romantic circus happening while the boys' mom is on her way to the great beyond. And to top it off, Belly's mom is besties with the dying mom, which basically makes the whole situation feel like a soap opera crossed with a family reunion gone wrong. 🎭🏡 But oh, my dear readers, that's not all. It turns out that there's gold in them thar love triangles for writers and showrunners! It's like a treasure chest of endless sequels, TV seasons, and movies, and let's be real, who doesn't want more of those? It's like an all-you-can-eat buffet of drama and ship wars. Ahoy, mateys! 🏴‍☠️ According to some smarty-pants at Vanderbilt University, love triangles are like the secret sauce of forming fan communities. You know, those folks who can argue passionately about whether they're Team Conrad or Team Jeremiah? It's like the Twilight era all over again, and you remember what that did to our shopping habits, right? Nordstrom's Twilight fashion line was both a blessing and a curse. 💍🛍️ But here's the thing: love triangles aren't just about choosing between two hotties. They're like comfort food for our storytelling souls. Readers and viewers love that debate, that clear divide, and the conflict that keeps the story chugging along. It's like being part of a team, but with more drama and fewer uniforms. Go Team Edward, am I right? ⚔️ Now, let's not kid ourselves. Love triangles are like a roller coaster for our emotions, and sometimes they make us scratch our heads and go, "Wait, what?!" But hey, at least they keep us on the edge of our seats, wondering who's gonna win the heart of our darling Belly. But before we dive too deep into the romance abyss, let's acknowledge that love triangles are like a guilty pleasure snack. They make us feel like the center of the universe, and who doesn't love that attention, right? 🍕 And let's not forget about the quirky side characters. I mean, Belly's brother Steven and her BFF Taylor duking it out over who's the better brother, that's like watching a cat and a dog in a heated debate. 🐶🐱 Now, let's zoom out a bit and look at love triangles through a Jane Austen-flavored lens. Apparently, this whole "choosing between two dudes" thing has been around for ages. It's like Austen was the OG matchmaker, setting up her heroines with a virtuous choice and tossing in some moral dilemmas for extra spice. Who needs Tinder when you've got Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham, right? Swipe right on that bonnet! 👒💃 But hold your horses, because love triangles might not be as innocent as they seem. You know, there's something about them that tickles our narcissistic fancy. It's like a competition, a conquest of hearts, and we're the shiny trophy they're after. Move over, Miss Universe, we're the star of this show! 🏆🌟 And don't you dare forget about the power dynamics! Love triangles are like a seesaw of emotions, where one lover's rise is the other's fall. It's like a Shakespearean tragedy with a modern twist. Romeo and Juliet with a side of "It's Complicated." Oh, and the pressure, my friends, the pressure! Susannah, the mom who had her own love triangle agenda, piled on the expectations like it was a Thanksgiving buffet. Belly, you're "destined for one of her boys," she said. It's like someone handed her a script for a reality show and said, "Here, make these kids squirm." 🍗🥧 But let's not forget about that grand old house by the sea. It's like a character in its own right, pulling the strings in this dramatic love puppet show. Save the house, marry a brother, it's like a real estate and romance combo deal! Buy one brother's heart, get a beach house for free! 🏖️💞 But hold the phone! It seems like marginalized folks might be gravitating towards love triangles for a deeper reason. You see, it's like a chance to experience desire in a world that sometimes tells them they're not worth it. Who needs society's beauty standards when you've got two handsome hunks fighting over you? 💃💅 Alright, let's wrap this up like a love triangle with only two guys left standing. Love triangles are like that addictive drama series that you just can't stop watching, no matter how much you cringe. They're like the roller coasters of our emotions, taking us on a wild ride of passion and perplexity. But here's the real confession: I'm a sucker for love triangles, and no matter how messy they get, I'll be right there, popcorn in hand, ready for the next emotional loop-de-loop. 🍿🎢 Now, off you go, my dear readers, into the tangled web of love triangles, armed with a newfound understanding of their wild dynamics. And remember, in real life, it's probably best to leave the love triangles to the fictional realm. Embrace love, live free, and if you can, dodge the drama! ✌️🌈 Read the full article

[strqyr]

the contrast between yang returning with the lamp and cinder returning with both the staff and the lamp is certainly something.

yang takes the elevator back up before descending down the stairs to meet qrow, giving the lamp to him immediately. qrow asks what happened, and yang gives the short version which is technically true, but she's obviously omitting information as well.

cinder descends down the stairs but doesn't get the chance to leave the vault via the elevator because salem arrives. salem doesn't even need to say a word before cinder sets to explain, sprinkled with false details, what went down, offering the relics to salem only at the end of her explanation.

the main thing being how neither of them are being exactly truthful, but the way they go about it stands out; yang gives the bare minimum amount of information so no one can accuse her of blatantly lying, while cinder puts up a performance of the century, mixing up truths and lies so well that recognizing which one is which is not an easy task.

#rwby #yang xiao long #cinder fall #ngl i love yang and cinder parallels #they keep happening too so it's an endless buffet

[spacedikut]

exam help ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: a self-indulgent blurb about spencer helping with exams :) 1.7k

a/n: first fic of the year :D happy 2021!

masterlist

Another anguish-filled screech reverberates from your and Spencer’s shared office, bringing even your pet fish in the tank to attention.

It’s the third one this hour. Spencer tries to ignore it, just like you told him to, but God you sound like you’re in pain and Spencer can’t exactly ignore that, can he? He loves you and cares for you and- oh. A thump reaches his ears. A textbook, maybe? Did you punch your textbook?

He considers for a moment that the neighbours will be alarmed, perhaps call the police or tentatively knock with a, “Is everything okay in there?”

It wouldn’t be the first time.

What would he tell them? Oh, my apologies, my partner has exams coming up and just told me they get why unsubs do that now. I am also terrified.

There are many instances where Spencer feels useless. During his job, when his mother would have an episode, when his friends have problems he just wouldn’t understand. But, somehow, and maybe controversially, this is the worst type of uselessness. The type that leaves him staring at the wall, questioning everything, the type that makes his stomach drop because all he can do is watch.

He’s been watching you for the last two weeks. He’s sick of watching, of being no help, and he needs to do something before he breaks and does something illegal.

(The illegal thing is doing your exams for you - not illegal as in, perhaps, murder)

Your frazzled head pops out from the office, one hand rubbing your eyes and a permanent frown etched on your face, and with a fragile voice you ask, “Can you make me a coffee, please?”

Now, Spencer feels hypocritical, but he has to say it. “Another? Are you sure?”

He sees the internal battle within you, how you try your hardest not to snap. It’s not his fault you’re stressed. He’s just trying to help. “Yes, I’m sure. Please, Spence,”

“Of course. I’ll bring it in.”

“Thank you.” With a pained smile, you’re gone again into the dark abyss of where you’re studying.

With quick, ingrained movements, Spencer makes your coffee with too much creamer and marshmallows. Unusual, yes, but your current diet consists of coffee and whatever he can force you to consume – like marshmallows.

But then, hello, he spots a chocolate bar haphazardly close to the bin, grabs it, and hopes you let him watch you eat it.

Stepping into the room as quietly as possible, he’s smacked in the face by the smell of lavender. It makes him nauseous, the intensity of it, quickly followed by a lurch of his heart because you poor thing, you’re being crushed by the weight of your degree – literally. The other day you purchased an insanely heavy weighted blanket and you’re drowning in it.

Now, if you were to ask Spencer who the most beautiful person on the planet is, he’d say you in a heartbeat. He’s thought that since you first met and, years later, still stands by that. But now, right now, glowering at him in the dimly lit, lavender drenched study that you used to love oh-so-much? You have the face of a French bulldog, all grumpy and furrowed and too many creases on your face to make Spencer feel like he’s actually helping when he places the coffee and snack on your desk.

Despite the crabby expression, your words are filled with love and appreciation – which happens to be Spencer’s favourite mix. “Thank you, my love.” You take a sip of the coffee, hum in delight, and for the first time in days there’s a spark of something other than torment. “You’re the best.”

Spencer’s hand holds the back of your neck and he places a series of soft kisses to your temple, mumbling, “I love you. Very much. Is there anything else you need?”

“Death.”

“Okay. I’ll work on it.”

At that, you grace Spencer with a weak half-smile. It’s enough to overwhelm Spencer, overflowing and only able to be shown through a chaste, encouraging peck on your lips and a half-hug, Spencer bent at the waist to hold you in your desk chair. He noses your hair, hoping his closeness will alleviate some stress, before stepping back and praying his eyes tell you everything he wants to say but know will elicit annoyance from you.

I love you. Take care of yourself. Rest, please. You can do this, but not if you over exert yourself. I love you.

Your eyes tell him, I’ll try. I love you. And that’s all he can ask for.

But when he leaves, shuffles past his bookshelf, his eyes catch sight of an old file that reminds him of when he was preparing for his own exams.

He gets an idea.

+++

It takes another two days, full of late nights involving work that isn’t staying up and distracting himself with books to avoid worrying over you and how late you go to sleep, and reading that leaves Spencer in awe of you and everyone in your field.

A part of him is amazed by how he wheelbarrowed the resources behind you without you noticing, another is worried about that fact, and the rest of him is excited that he can finally do something that will actually help. At least, he hopes.

(When everything is said and done, despite being endlessly grateful, you also inform Spencer that simply being there and being him and getting you coffee every time you ask is more than enough, really)

With pride, he leans back on the couch, observing his creations on the coffee table. There’s plenty of different colours, all representing a different topic, and he presses the thumbs up to like the Youtube video he was using to ensure his handwriting is easy to read.

Flashcards. Hundreds, if Spencer counted correctly. The textbooks he stole – borrowed – from under your nose lie next to his feet, the weight of them combined more of a workout than he’s (voluntarily) done in eons.

He only hopes you don’t think it’s too late, think he’s overstepping or-or that he’s doing those things that he’s been accused of before – thinking he knows best (he does, but whatever), overbearing arrogance, an unwillingness to hear and accept other people’s way of doing things.

He just wants to help. He wants you to know he’s here for you, no matter what you need. This is the thing that lets him believe he’s doing something, something good and useful. Spencer just wants to be useful.

He’s convinced you to eat a proper breakfast – fruit, oats, bread, meat, a whole buffet – and you sense something is amiss when you hear slow, tentative footsteps creeping from your bedroom.

Spencer, still in his pyjamas, glasses perched on his nose, approaches with a shallow box in his grasp. You swallow your bite, turn to face him. “What’ve you got there?”

The box is slid onto the counter next to your plate hesitantly, as if he regrets his actions as he’s doing them. Peering in, you see a blur of colour, stacks on stacks of rectangular paper filled with writing and questions and even a tips! section.

You pick up the first batch, all light blue, and flick through them, heart getting bigger and bigger with every word you read. And when you realise what they are, what Spencer’s done ­– for you – your heartrate has skyrocketed and the watch on your wrist is asking you if you’re okay.

“You made me flashcards?” You ask, in awe, again looking at the love of your life to find he’s already staring at you.

“I did,” He tells you, apprehensive and scared, already backtracking, “But, if you don’t think they’re useful, or-or you think I’m overstepping – I’m not trying to, I promise, I just thought…” He starts nervously shuffling and reshuffling some of his creation. “Flashcards are known to engage active recall and metacognition. Research consistently finds that applying metacognitive strategies tends to ingrain memories deeper into your knowledge, and that this kind of active recall retrieval practice leads to one-hundred and fifty percent better retention than passive studying, so…”

Your hands have a mind of their own, pulling what feels like an endless amount of cards out and turning them in your hands, from the questions on the front to the answers on the back, the ones with hints and advice and there’s several with doodles that are so Spencer you hold them to your chest. You’re so enamoured by this man that is still rambling and bumbling because he takes your silence as distaste.

“I just- I hate seeing you so stressed, so I made these. You don’t have to use them, of course. They’re not even that great. It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable, you’re beyond capable, or that your methods don’t work- Just, personally, I love flashcards. I used them all the time when studying, even though I didn’t really need them, so perhaps a change of medium would do you good-“

A warm hand on his own that keep fidgeting stops him mid-stream of consciousness.

“Thank you,” You say, earnestly, “Really. These are lovely.” You leap from your seat, wrapping Spencer in warmth and love and care, and he shivers when he feels your hot breath on his ear when you repeat your thanks again and again.

When he pulls you even closer, so your torso curves into his own, you feel the lightest you have in weeks. You’re in the arms of the man you love, who knows you love him too and you know loves you so much – enough to spend several nights reading your cursed textbooks so he could create something that might help – and now you’re confident that you can do it. With the help of Spencer and his lovingly hand-made flashcards, you can do it.

And if, somehow, it goes awry, that’s okay too. Because you’ll still have Spencer, your number one fan, who will be there to comfort you and advise you in any way he can. He’ll never let you doubt yourself, never allow a self-deprecating joke if he can help it, because if he has to, he’ll love and support you enough for the both of you until you can do it yourself.

The world feels a little brighter, your breaths feel a little lighter, all because of Spencer. So you kiss him, murmur love against his lips, and get ready to take on whatever dares to come your way.

+++

tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @roses-and-grasses @ta-ka-shi-ma @ogmilkis @chiffonchronicles @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @gublertoon @averyhotchner @wheeledup @shadyladyperfection @joodeduarte @calm-and-doctor @

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #mine #the end is super cheesy but #eeeeeeeeeeeeee

[yslkook]

gorgeous

#corporate masterlist

summary: it’s the office holiday party, and when you show up wearing this dress, jungkook doesn’t know what to do with himself. (jk pov) word count: 3014 warnings: alcohol, cursing, smut 18+- jk jerks it in a bathroom, he’s very into oc and she doesnt know it, jk is pining  a/n: here is a lil holiday-esque drabble. this story takes place about a month after the team returns to seoul from ch 6. pls enjoy this first attempt at smut for jk. ty to @taestybae​ for her endless support <333

Jungkook doesn’t know what to expect from this office holiday party- apparently there had been a huge budget surplus this year and the regulatory department had decided to go all out. The party planners had booked an evening at one of the ballrooms in one of swankiest hotels in Seoul. Meaning that the party itself was semi-formal, or close to it.

Meaning that Jungkook would rather be at home playing video games and eating pizza than dressed in a suit. He’s tired, it’s been a long few months, and he just wants to go home.

But he plays the part, and he plays the part well. Namjoon introduces him to a few people, higher ups, after he grabs a glass of spiced wine from the open bar.

Maybe he can at least get a little drunk. As a treat. 

His thoughts drift to you for a moment. He wonders what you’re doing. Maybe he’ll text you later, if he’s feeling a little brave. Maybe with some liquid courage.

He’s already looking forward to it. But he doesn’t have to, because you walk in through the doors with Seokjin on your arm. 

Jungkook audibly chokes on his wine when he spots you. Namjoon gives him a strange look but Jungkook ignores it, in favor of staring at you. Jungkook’s throat goes dry the closer both you and Seokjin get to him, Namjoon and Sana.

He can’t be next to you, not when you look like that. Not when you look so much more pretty than anything his own dreams could have conjured up. 

“Hi, Jungkook,” You say, your voice low and sweet at the same time. 

He nearly faints.

“Hi,” Jungkook mumbles, “What are you doing here?”

“Huh? Should I leave?” You tease, pointing at the door with your thumb.

“No, I just- I thought this was a reg thing?” Jungkook asks desperately, digging himself into a deeper hole. You only smile even wider at him. 

“Oh, am I not good enough company for you people then?” You scoff, “Maybe we should leave, Sana.”

“No,” Jungkook nearly whines, “That’s not what I meant-”

Jin is having a blast watching Jungkook tripping over his words as the younger man confirms his own already existing suspicions.

Namjoon tells Jungkook that he had invited you and Sana and you reply saying that you had come along with Jin.

What you don’t say is that Jin probably would have found a way to drag you to this party regardless. His jaw had dropped when he had picked you up from your house and you’re flustered under his gaze, something that has only happened a handful of times since you’ve known Jin-

“What? Is it too much? I thought they said semi-formal,” You panic, “Jin, I don’t have anything else! Should I go change? Fuck it, I’m not coming. Jin! Will you say something!”

“You look good, stupid,” Jin says easily and unabashedly lets his eyes roam, “You’re sexy.”

“Oh.”

Your dark green dress hugs your curves but still leaves enough to the imagination. Jungkook’s eyes dart to your shoulders and the dip of your chest, where he sees more of your tattoo that he’s ever seen before. He swallows nervously and when you walk with Sana to the bar, he sees the slit in your dress and an eyeful of your thigh.

Jungkook chugs his drink. The pink flush of his cheeks can be attributed to alcohol after all. 

You’re perfectly elegant and sexy, unaware that Jungkook is having a minor breakdown while trying to stave off popping a boner at this very public event.

He’s not having much luck.

Jungkook is now on his third glass of spiced wine, in an attempt to stop himself from searching for you. No matter where you are in the room, you seem to pop up in his periphery. Whether you’re speaking to Hae-ri, or you’re shoveling appetizers into your mouth with Seokjin, or you’re speaking with Namjoon’s boss… you always seem to be in his line of vision.

He seems to be one of the youngest people in the regulatory department, a fact that Jungkook’s colleagues seem to always want to bring up. Remarks of how they’re old and of ‘kids these days’ as they look pointedly at him, saying that he’s young and spry are the norm.

It’s annoying and he resists the urge to roll his eyes. He just grins and bears it, going through his third glass of wine much quicker than expected.

These people always say they want change and fresh ideas and somehow refuse to embrace them. It makes Jungkook scoff. He’s happy with his small team of Namjoon, you and Sana. He’s happy that you’re all young at heart and that things aren’t so competitive. He knows he’s blessed in that aspect.

Jungkook is thankful when Seokjin pulls him away to introduce him to his own boss-

“You’re Namjoon’s golden boy,” Seokjin shrugs, “Everyone already knows you.”

He wants to ask, do people know you? But he refrains, not wanting Jin to get the wrong idea. Jungkook shouldn’t be as surprised as he is when he sees you standing next to Namjoon with Jin’s boss and one of her colleagues.

Now he really has to keep himself in check. You make him weak and despite his best attempts to avoid looking at you, his eyes land on you anyway. And how can he not turn his gaze to you?

He’s a goner, and he knew it from the minute he saw you walk into the venue.

Jungkook watches your red lips move as you speak with Seokjin’s boss and he vaguely wonders how your lipstick has remained intact this long. Your laugh is like music in his ears, you even throw your head back in genuine mirth at something that Seokjin’s boss says.

You’re not watching him. So he sips his wine and allows himself to enjoy your presence, all wrapped up in front of him in possibly the prettiest dress on the prettiest woman he’s ever met. 

Your whole body shakes as you laugh unabashedly and fully and Jungkook dares to ogle your chest for longer than he should of a colleague. But you’re you, and he’s just a boy. 

You’re his dream girl and he’s just a boy.

He wonders what your skin might taste like- you always smell so good, the faint scent of something warm and comforting always surrounds you. Your skin is glowing, the ink on your shoulders shining with the light from the chandeliers above.

And then your thigh peeks out and the sight of your leg sends an arrow of arousal straight down his spine. Jungkook thinks he catches a glimpse of color on your upper thigh but it’s gone as quickly as it comes.

His throat is dry again. He needs another drink.

While he wants to look at you in peace as if you were a painting made just for him, he wants your attention too. Before he can slide into the conversation and see your pretty eyes light up for him, you turn to him on your own.

“Hi,” You murmur to him once it’s clear that Seokjin has steered the conversation with his boss away from you, “Feel like I didn’t get to say hello to you properly earlier.”

“O-oh,” Jungkook mumbles, “No worries.”

“Got any plans for the holidays?” You ask softly. Your voice rings loud and clear in his ears, the sweet taste of wine on his tongue has nothing on what he imagines your lips feel like against his.

“J-just goin’ to my parents’. My brother’s coming for a few days, with his girlfriend,” Jungkook says, letting himself relax around you. It’s easy for him to do, when you give him a smile and a laugh that makes his heart lurch.

“Oh! You have a brother,” You reply, “Older or younger?”

“Older.”

“Ah, so you’re the baby of the house,” You tease, looking at him over the rim of your glass. Jungkook is momentarily distracted by the glossy taupe of your nails. And then his eyes travel up your fingers, as he catches exactly two small tattoos over your knuckles.

“I’m not the baby,” Jungkook complains and your teasing eyes melt away, instead replaced by a warm ember of something more. Your eyes are dark and hooded as you take him in, and it sets his blood alight.

“I know, Jungkook,” You murmur, your voice low and raspy. The corner of your lips quirk up into a smirk and all Jungkook can do is swallow his nerves down. He feels like he’s vibrating, just from your simple look. He preens in your gaze, wanting any and all of your attention.

Not for the first time, he struggles to keep his eyes above your neckline. Jungkook chugs the rest of his wine hastily and your eyebrows raise in mild curiosity. 

Jungkook is struggling to maintain his composure and if he doesn’t get his shit together, you’ll surely notice the small tent in his pants. Only you, looking so gorgeous in green can pull this kind of reaction from him with just a few words.

Jungkook is a sucker.

The hungry look in your eyes passes and instead you ask him about his brother and his family. He falls into easy conversation with you, telling you about last year’s holiday and how he had baked about fifty cookies too many for his family so he had eaten them all instead. He asks you what you usually do for the holiday, to which you reply that sometimes you and Grandma spend it with Seokjin and his family.

The lines between colleagues and friendship have long been blurred between you and Jungkook. At least, that’s how you feel. Normally, you wouldn’t offer that kind of information up to a colleague. But Jungkook feels like a little more than a colleague to you.

“Uh. Do you want to sit with me and eat?” You ask almost shyly and Jungkook feels his cheeks heating up. He nods immediately and follows you to the buffet line, enjoying the way your ass looks in that dress and eating up any glimpse of your leg he can get.

Happy holidays, indeed. 

“How messy do you think these people get after a few glasses of wine?” You muse, observing the higher ups chatting with each other on the other side of the room.

“Pretty damn messy,” Jungkook replies, “Look at Hae-ri, she’s wasted. And Yunho too-”

“Maybe there will be a day where we can act like that and not worry about whether we’ll be fired or not the next day…”

“It’s all about control,” Jungkook says knowingly, “You just gotta fake it till you make it.”

“Don’t gotta tell me that twice,” You scoff, “I feel like I can never get drunk at these things. Feels like big brother is watching, you know?”

“Can’t relate,” Jungkook says smoothly, “What’s the point of a work party if you won’t take advantage of the open bar?”

You laugh loudly, and Jungkook nearly jumps when your hand floats over his forearm to steady yourself. Jungkook sharply turns his face towards yours, meeting your electric eyes. You cross one leg over the other, the skirt of your dress falling a little bit to the side.

And Jungkook sees even more of your upper thigh tattoo than he had before. Now he knows for certain that your ink wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

“Sorry,” You mumble.

He doesn’t know what you’re apologizing for, but he misses the heat of your hand when you place it back in your lap.

When you ask him if he wants to get seconds at the buffet with you, he immediately nods. You say nothing as he reflexively puts his hand at the small of your back. He’s a man, but he’s a gentleman, after all. 

The simple touch and heat of your skin through the fabric of your dress is enough of a memory for him to store for later. He allows himself the luxury of it and when you stand a little closer to him, he can’t help himself from letting his thoughts wander.

Jungkook needs to leave. He needs to either find a bathroom or get his ass home, because the longer he’s in your presence, the harder it is for him to conceal himself from you.

Specifically, his boner. His cock seems to jump whenever you’re in his line of sight and it’s messing with his head.

He’s painfully hard by the point in the night when speeches from the higher ups are being made. They’re thanking the department for their hard work for the year and wishing everyone a prosperous new year. Meanwhile Jungkook isn’t paying attention.

He’s tipsy and he’s thinking about how you’d fit in the crevices of his hands. He’s thinking about how your hips might feel in his hands, how the column of your throat would taste, how you’d look with his head buried in between your inked thighs.

He wants to shove his face into your tits and he nearly groans out loud at the thought. He wonders how his cock would look in your hands, how you’d stroke him, how your mouth would feel…

Jungkook sneaks away from the ballroom in search of a private bathroom. He leaves quietly, not wanting to answer questions. Not when he’s this painfully hard, and the mere thought of you in that dress is seemingly enough for him to cum in his pants.

He swiftly walks through the halls with his jacket subtly covering the front of his pants. He’s mortified that it’s come to this, but if he doesn’t make himself cum in the next ten minutes he might explode.

Jungkook finally finds a bathroom and shoves himself inside, immediately standing in front of the mirror and pulling his belt off.

He’s so desperate. He wonders if you’d like that, if you’d like his desperation that stems from you.

Jungkook pulls his cock out of the confines of his boxers and strokes himself slowly at first. Teasingly. He sighs softly at the relief that his right hand gives him.

Fuck. Would you like that? Would you like that he’s this desperate for you? Would you praise him? 

He squeezes his eyes shut, pretending that it’s your hand on his cock and not his own. He can see you in his mind, your lipstick beyond smudged, eyes watery and your dress rumpled. 

He can see your tattoos on display for him, the ones on your shoulder, your chest and your thigh. Maybe you’d even tell him that they all mean.

The thought sends another rush of blood to his cock. He pumps himself faster, groaning softly and biting his bottom lip.

He imagines you telling him to be loud for you, to let you hear him. In that low, sexy voice.

Jungkook moans your name into the empty bathroom. He’s long been leaking precum from his cock, perhaps since the moment he laid eyes on you. He’s so close…

Everything suddenly feels magnified- his touch on his cock, the thought of your tits spilling over the bodice of your dress. The feel of your lips on his.

His mind runs wild when it comes to you.

Jungkook strokes himself even faster, only to stop abruptly. Start, stop. Start, stop. He whines to himself and peels his eyes open to watch himself in the mirror. His eyes are hooded, cheeks reddened and lips pouty and swollen from biting down.

He needs more than his own hand. He needs friction.

Without a second thought, he plasters his hands over the counter and rocks his hips into the edge of the surface. With a loud, broken moan he grinds into the counter. Wondering how your pussy might feel instead of the cold surface. Or your hands. Or your tits.

He slows down to a slow grind, teasing himself with the thought of you. What would you look like when he made you cum? What would you look like when you came on your own fingers?

He speeds up a little more, groaning and whimpering as the need to cum quickly approaches. The knot in his belly has become even tighter, ready to burst. Jungkook feels like his skin is on fire, his hands doing little to alleviate it.

He pulls off of the counter and strokes himself harshly with rough tugs, groaning your name under his breath. Jungkook thinks about you, waking up next to you after a nap together, bringing you ice cream after a long day, kissing you just because he can in his fantasies.

Thick ropes of white coat his hands and spray across the counter recklessly as he moans brokenly for nobody to hear. 

Jungkook’s knees feel weak as he tries to regain his breath. He braces himself on the counter before taking a paper towel to clean himself up. After, he wets a paper towel with soap and cleans up the counter and the mirror.

His cheeks are blazing once the gravity of what he just did hits him. How is he supposed to face you now?

He doesn’t regret it. You’re his dream girl.

It’s no surprise that soon after Jungkook emerges from the bathroom, the closing remarks are just about to finish. That’s great timing because once they do, he’s booking it out of the hotel as fast as he can. 

And that’s exactly what he does. He leaves, only saying goodbye to Namjoon and makes a beeline for the exit. His Uber is already waiting for him.

He doesn’t notice you looking for him to say goodbye.

It’s later, when he’s in the safety of his bedroom and in his pajamas, that his phone lights up-

you: hey, u must have left before I found you. Just wanted to say bye and happy holidays Jk 💓

Jungkook can’t help his heart doing cartwheels or the smile on his face at your text.

He also can’t help his cock from jumping, either. 

#jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #bts x reader

[98prilla]

Shifted

Thomas decides to see what all the Side’s animal forms would be. It does not go so well for Anxiety. 

This is set pre accepting anxiety, and diverges a little from the cannon of that episode, fair warning.

He is terrified. His heart is pounding as he pulls further back into the shadows, hiding under the couch. He can hear the others out there, talking, laughing, having fun. This isn’t fun.

“An owl? Really, Thomas, owls aren’t even actually smart, their eyes take up much of their cranial cavity.”

“Come on, kiddo, they are symbols of wisdom. And those wings sure must be nifty! I’m having a pawsome time myself!” A groan at the pun.

“I always thought Logan was a bit bird brained.” Roman mutters. “But seriously, a dragon? While the scales are quite flattering, it is a bit strange, considering I usually fight them.”

“I don’t know, Roman, I guess cause you’re always talking about questing I just settled on a fantasy creature. It is pretty cool." He rolls his eyes at the huff of pride he can hear as Roman no doubt puffs up his chest, flares his wings.

“Speaking of strange, where's anxiety?” his ears flatten against his head, pulse picking up again. They’re talking about him.  

“He should be here. I did summon him.” Thomas, confused. He curses his inability to sink out in this form.

“Perhaps he has taken the form of a smaller animal and is hiding.” He almost hisses, could Logic shut up for once?

“Aw, maybe we should look for him! He’ll probably be so cute!”

“Please. That weirdo is probably a venomous spider or a little parasite. Who cares, where he is?” yes, thank you Roman, for once being not a moron.

“Patton, if you’re worried perhaps you can sniff him out. You are a cat, after all.” No. Nonono. Logic, shut it!

“Good idea, Logan. Give it a try!” and he is outta here before he even knows what he’s doing.  

His terror skyrockets and he shoots out from under the couch to the startled yelps of everyone else. Everything is big, huge, compared to him, the living room seems endless.

The stairs, he just needs to get to the stairs and he'll be able to physically enter the mindscape, he’s so close-

Then there is the flap of wings, a victorious shriek, and talons are digging into his shoulders pinning him down.

“Well, what have we here?” He shoves aside his fear, proud as his voice comes out just as scathing and steady as ever.

“Get off, you overgrown lizard.” He bites out, Roman’s scaled head coming into view. He glares at Roman’s laughter.

“Anxiety, kiddo? Is that you?”

“No, its Joan, yes it’s me, Patton, now get off, Roman!” His heart is beating fast, too fast, and his words are wavering. He is afraid, afraid, afraid. He hates this, hates it, he just wants this to be over.

“Hmm. I don’t think I will. Think about it, Thomas. We have the opportunity here to get anxiety out of our way for good.” His stomach drops, his blood goes cold, he is shaking.

“Roman, what are you suggesting?” Logan, he can’t be considering this, please no, please!

“I mean, we don’t need to vanquish him. We can keep him like this. Put him in a cage, or something.”

“I'm not a pet, you idiot, and you can’t keep me like this forever.” He hisses out.

“Oh contraire, little mouse, we can keep you weak enough you don’t have any choice.” His heart lurches as he is lifted up, Roman's wings buffeting him, they are in the air.

“Roman, put me down! I… please! Pleasepleaseplease…” he is crying now, begging, because he can’t, this can’t be happening, they can’t actually intend to keep him locked in this form, weak and powerless, in a cage.  

The floor seems so far away, and he feels sick, from the altitude shift or what is happening or both, he can’t tell. The anguished terror is filling him and he lets out a broken, choked sob.  

This is what he gets, for thinking he could ever be accepted, for thinking he could ever be tolerated, much less liked. All he’d ever done was his job, and this is his reward.

“Logan, what-" he lets out a squeak despite himself as a blur of gray rams into Roman, sending him spiraling off balance.

Then he feels the talon’s grip slip, and he screams. He is falling, flipping through the air. From this height in this form his bones will break, shatter, with his luck his neck will snap. He has time to cry for help, before he impacts.

“Gotcha!” The halt is jarring, and he is shaking, instinctively flattening himself to make as small a target as possible as he tries to get ahold of himself. He realizes it’s soft, the ground.

He looks up and nearly screams again, instead flattening further. Patton has caught him, sitting on his back haunches, he is caught in Patton's front paws.

“p-p-put me d-down. Please.” His voice is a whisper, trembles making him stutter, but Patton instantly complies, much to his relief.

He hears a shriek and looks up, just in time to see silver talons coming right at him, then they crash into him and he feels a ripping pain in his shoulder.  

He can hear Patton yelling, Logan screeching, Roman growling, and it is loud so loud and all he can think is he is about to die-

“Enough!” Thomas yells, and suddenly the ground isn’t so close, suddenly he is stumbling to his feet, lunging for his normal spot on the stairs, reaching it in two strides. He lets out a relieved sob as he clutches the bannister, looking back at the others.

Logan has landed in a heap on the couch. Patton and Roman are tangled around each other on the floor. Patton's gaze meets his, worried.

“kiddo, you’re bleeding.” He lifts his hand numbly to his shoulder, mildly surprised as it comes away sticky and red. He lets out a broken, bitter laugh.

“Gee, wonder how that happened. Not like someone was trying to kill me, or worse hold me captive and torture me for my whole existence." His voice is raw and instead of biting sarcasm, it comes out as an almost whisper, red rimmed eyes glaring at the floor as he shakes, from latent fear and pulsing anger.

“Anxiety-" he half successfully chokes back another sob, harsh laughter tearing at his lungs.

“no, know what, it’s fine. It’s fine, Thomas. I always knew I wasn’t wanted. I was an idiot to hope you might… might ever actually change, actually want me around. Hell, even care about me like I care about you and keeping you safe.” He can barely stand, he doesn’t know if it’s from the pain and blood loss or the adrenaline fading or the panic attack he can feel pressing against him, tightening his chest.

“Kiddo…” he shakes his head.

“Y'know, if you really wanted me dead, all you had to do was ask. I would’ve done it myself.” He doesn’t look up. Doesn’t see the pained shock on Patton's face, the suspicious surprise on Roman's, the horror on Logan’s. The pain on Thomas's. Instead, he flips up his hood, hugging himself as he wordlessly sinks out.

He managed to lock the door before he collapses to the floor. His chest feels like it's being squeezed by a boa constrictor, his ribs crushed and all the air shoved out of his lungs. His vision narrows to a dark pinprick, gaze unseeing as he sees Roman's talons again and again, falling and splattering against the floor, bones shattered, bars, a cage, closing in, pressing him tight, he can’t breathe, he’s choking, he’s dying, god, he’s going to die here. Why not? He laughs hysterically, that’s what they want, may as well give it to ‘em.

“virgil, no. It’s not what we all want. Come back to me, stormy. Focus on my voice. You can do it, Virgil.” Virgil. None of them know his name. Only, only…

“Dee?” he chokes out, blurry vision focusing enough to see Deceit, holding his hands in his lap, rubbing circles on his knuckles.

“There we are. Hello, dearest.” Deceit reaches up, softly wiping away his tears, brushing back his hair.

“I’m an idiot. I’m a stupid idiot.” He mutters.

“No. Virgil, you’re not. It’s ok.” He hisses in a breath of pain as Dee places a hand on his shoulder, vision going speckly at the slight contact. Dee pulls away, eyes wide, face darkening to fury.

“You’re hurt. Vee, you’re bleeding" he just shrugs, another sob clawing its way out of his throat.

“Doesn’t matter.” He whispers. Deceit hisses, and pulls him onto his lap.

“It does. Even if they don’t care, even if they don’t love you, I do. It matters to me. You will always matter to me. You’re my baby, Virg. Even if you’ve left the nest, you’re still my little rain storm. Got it?” He feels Dee's extra arms removing his hoodie, then all six are cradling him against Dee's chest, holding him tight and safe and secure, letting him relax and melt into the touch, knowing Dee will never let anything hurt him. He feels Dee press a kiss to his head.

“you’ve wiped yourself out, love. I'll take care of that nasty shoulder gash. Get some sleep, dearest.” Weakly, he clings to Dee's shirt. He doesn’t want him to let go, he doesn’t feel safe, if Dee lets go.

“I’m staying, darling. I’ll stay as long as you want.”

“remus-"

“can rain down all the hell he wants. Until you’re better, they deserve it.” He finds he can’t argue with that. He falls asleep to Dee humming softly, stroking his forehead and holding his hand, his other arms working to gently bandage his shoulder.

Deceit sighs as he hears a crash. Looking up, he sees Remus kick in the door, eyes aflame.

“who hurt him? Who’s ass do I gotta beat until it falls off?”  

“hush. I just got him settled.” Dee replies. In three strides, Remus is beside him, head cocked unnaturally far to the side, like a snapped neck.

“He’s ok?” Remus asks, neck snapping back to a normal position with an audible click.

“yes. Keep an eye on him, please?”

“What? Where're you going?” Remus asks. Deceit’s eyes flash.

“I am going to go see what exactly those half-witted buffoons did to send him spiraling. Then I am going to determine whom it is I need to beat the shit out of.” Deceit growled, stepping away from the bed.

“Boo, you never let me have any fun.” Remus pouts. He instantly stops as Virgil lets out a small sound, immediately climbing into the bed with him and spooning around him. Virgil curls against him immediately, stilling as he clings onto Remus.

“Thank you.” Deceit murmurs from the doorway. Remus nods.

“I'll take care of our little stormy night. You go teach ‘em a lesson, Dee.” Remus replies, relishing the sharp fanged smile Deceit flashes him, before sinking out. As an afterthought, he snaps, replacing the door, before turning his attention to Virgil, trying to mentally send him all of his love. Virgil is more of a brother to him  than Roman has ever been, and he hates seeing him hurt.

“hang in there, vee. Dee'll fix everything.”

“I highly doubt he wants to be called right now.”

“But he was so scared! We have to help!”

“I don’t know Pat, seeing us might make it worse.” He clears his throat. He meets three sets of surprised eyes with steel. Thomas yelps and falls backwards, catching himself on the wall.

“Who is that?!”  

“Deceit, you scurrilous snake, what are you doing here?” his eyes narrow at that.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Roman, was I not wanted here at this exact moment?” his voice is a perfect mimicry of Virgil's, and to his satisfaction it makes Roman flinch.

“Thomas. This is Deceit. He is responsible for the lies you tell not only others, but yourself. I am puzzled as to why you have appeared now. To my knowledge, no lies have been spoken.” Logan explains, and his hands ball into fists.

“Oh, truly, why ever would I be here? It'ssss not like Anxiety returned bloody and injured, in the midsssst of a panic attack, talking about how nobody wantssss him and it doessssn't matter. I’m sure that hassss nothing to do with it, Logic.” He hisses out, spitting Logan's title like it burns his tongue.

He can see Patton's guilty face out of the corner of his eye, knows whatever happened, it wasn’t him. But Roman… yes.

“So Thomas, dear, care to explain what happened?” He asks, sickly sweet, turning his gaze to Thomas, who has a slight frown on his face. As an afterthought, he notes that Thomas isn’t afraid of him, despite his scales and sharp fangs. Interesting.

“I thought it would be cool to see what everyone’s animal forms would be. Logan was an owl, Pat was a persian cat, and Roman was a dragon. But we didn’t see anxiety anywhere so we thought he was small and hiding and maybe too scared to move. Pat was gonna find him, then a mouse shot out from under the couch and Roman…” Thomas trails off, eyes shifting away, but it’s enough to confirm his suspicions.

“Roman. Care to continue?” Roman meets his ice cold gaze imperiously.  

“gladly. I captured the fiend in my claws. Hurting him was an accident. I merely meant to catch him while he was small and couldn’t hurt us and contain him. Keep him small, so he’d stop bothering Thomas. It’s not like we need him, anyways.” Roman scoffs.

Rage is filling him. Because Roman truly thinks he is in the right, truly thinks he didn’t do anything wrong, and his voice is proud as he speaks about traumatizing Virgil, who is the youngest, the smallest, the most vulnerable to start with. How dare he?

Before he can think, he has crossed the room, he rears his hand back and slaps Roman hard enough to send him reeling backwards.

“You are a heartless, soulless bastard. I told him not to come, I told him he’d get hurt but he didn’t listen. You know why? It’s certainly not because he wants to be included, he doesn’t yearn for your acceptance, it doesn’t break him a little more each time you all dismiss and send him away unwanted. He definitely doesn’t just want to be liked! He never has a hard enough time just being himself, being afraid, all the fucking time, and you have certainly helped make him feel right at home.” He hisses, ignoring the tears stinging at his eyes as he whips around, facing the rest of them.

“And you’re no better. How do you think it feels, knowing the person who conjured you doesn’t even want you? How terrified would you be, surrounded by people who have never showed you kindness, who have admitted their distaste, small and defenseless, being threatened to be put in a cage? His worst fear is something happening to Thomas and being unable to reach him, to react and help. It’s his job to protect Thomas, and you were threatening to keep him away, to put Thomas’s own safety at risk for your own stupid biases! You were threatening to make his nightmare real, and not a single fucking one of you said otherwise, did you?!” He yells, slowly looking at each of them in turn. No one will meet his eyes now, not even Roman.

“you don’t deserve him. You don’t deserve his name. No wonder he hasn’t told you. You’re a bunch of ignorant bullies. And you’d say I’m the bad guy. You all picked out the most vulnerable and pounced.” He shifts his head, turning to Thomas, a curling, empty smile on his face.

“It was a fucking pleasure, Thomas. I’ll be taking my leave.” The lie is bitter and acrid on his tongue, tasting of ash as he sinks out.

He returns to Virgil's room, immediately hurrying to his bedside, because he is crying, despite Remus's attempts to soothe him.

“Vee, what’s wrong?” he asks. Virgil glares at him through his tears.

“you said you were gonna stay!” he lets out a soft breath, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I know. I just had to check on something. But you know Remus would never let anything hurt you, right?” Virgil nods, leaning back into Remus's arms.

“That’s right, starshine. You’re safe.” Remus whispers, rocking Virgil gently, who responds by pressing his face into Remus's chest.

“You’re staying now, right?” Virgil mumbles. He smiles, slipping under the covers.

“I am. No lies this time.” He murmurs as Virgil lays down, curling into him. He reaches out with all six arms, pulling Remus closer, hugging both of them and sandwiching Virgil in warmth and safety.

“What was it?” Remus asks lowly, once Virgil is out again. He sighs.

“Shapeshifting, animal forms. He was a mouse. Roman was a dragon. Threatened to keep him locked up. It got physical.”

“You mean Roman was a bitch and attacked Virgil unprovoked.” Remus's voice is flat, and he shoots him a soft look, one of his hands slipping into Remus's.

“I’m going to kill him.” He squeezes Remus's hand.

“Later. We can work on murder plans later. Right now Vee needs us.”

“Anxiety, it’s dinner time!” Patton's voice trills. He opens his eyes with a groan, freezing instantly.

This… isn’t his room. It isn’t even the commons. He’s laying in soft bedding. He realizes he’s in a little plastic hut. His heart speeds. He looks down at himself, human, good.

He flinches as the house is lifted up, leaving him exposed. His breath catches in his lungs, Patton is looming over him, he is giant. He skitters back, realizing his back is pressing against metal wire. Cage, he is in a cage, he is tiny, in a cage.

He scrambles, trying to claw his way out, trying to bend the wire enough to wriggle out.

“hey, now. None of that kiddo.” His stomach flips as hands squeaze around his waist and he is lifted into the air. He is barely as tall as Patton's ring finger, he is so high in the air as Patton places him down on his palm.

“patton please, please, just let me go, please!” he begs, feeling tears slipping down his face.

“Aw, I know kiddo. But this is better for everyone. This way you’re still around but don’t bother Thomas.” He stumbles as Patton places him back in the cage, doubling over and choking on sobs as a small food dish is placed inside, the shadows of bars shading his face.

He is still begging, pleading, screaming, for Patton, for anyone, to let him out, let him go, but he knows no one is coming, and the bars are pressing in, and soon there won’t be any more space, any more air.  

“hush, stormy, shhh. It’s ok. It’s ok, lovely.” His eyes fly open, and he clings to Dee, feeling all of his arms cradling him tight as he sniffles into his shoulder, sobs shaking his thin frame.

“Just a dream, Vee." He feels Remus's hand on his, feels the terror and residual fear draining out of him as the nightmare is removed from his mind. The pros of dark creativity. Remus can steal other people’s bad thoughts, bad dreams, but then he experiences whatever the thoughts were. He hears Remus's sharp inhale as he sees it, feels his hand tighten it’s grip.

“thanks ree.” He manages, his voice hoarse and sore.

“Virgil, love, we should talk about it. I only got minor details from them.”

“what’s to say? They were going to keep me in a cage, they d-didn't want me.” Dee draws back a tad, looking down at Virgil's face, eyes hidden behind his bangs.

“did anyone help? Surely not all of them went along with this.” He shrugs, taking a deep breath.

“R-roman g-g-rabbed me in his talons and st-started flying. But he yelled… I think L-Logan tried to stop him. He was an o-o-owl. I think he rammed Roman and made him drop me. P-p-patton c-caught me. And… and he put me down, right away, when I asked. I… I don't think they woulda let Roman k-keep me.” He mumbles out, shaking. Dee feels his heart breaking, can feel the murder on Remus's face.

“That's good, Virge. They were trying to defend you.” Virgil shakes his head.

“but they didn’t. Only p-patton even cared I was h-hurt. Thomas… Thomas didn't say a-anything.”

“but he changed you back.” His brow creases as he looks out from Dee's arms at Remus's words. “if he agrees with Roman, he wouldn’t have changed you back.”  

“He's right, lovely. Thomas doesn’t hate you. I know that. That is fact.” He sighs.

“Doesn’t feel like it right now.” He mumbles.

“I know. And that’s ok, Virge.” Dee kisses his head softly. He startles at a knock on the door.  

“Remus, see who it is?”

“If it’s princey stab him for me.” Virgil mumbles, making Remus chuckle and ruffle his hair.

“Gladly, stormy.”  

He throws open the door, leaning in the doorway with a cocky grin, teeth sharp and eyes glinting.

“Well, well, hello there Daddy. Have I been naughty?” he teases, moving to block Patton's view of the room.

“Remus… what… what are you doing here?” Patton asks nervously.  

“Apparently playing the butler. Y'know, Patton, in the movies the butler is always guilty of murder.” He tilts his head slowly, relishing the fear that races across Patton's face. “Now, what are you doing here, daddio?” Patton fiddles with his sweater sleeves, a frown settling on his face.

“I just… I know he probably doesn’t want to see us right now, heck, maybe ever, and I don’t fault him for it. Today… today was bad. Really, really bad. I just want to make sure he's ok. And apologize. We… we chewed out Roman. His actions were unacceptable. Just… I would never let that happen. He’s not… he’s a person, and I don’t always agree with him, but that doesn’t give anyone the right to take away his voice or opinion. Can you just… pass that on, for me? Please?”  

Remus looks back at the bed, softening as he sees Virgil uncurling from Dee, sitting with his knees pulled to his chest, leaning against Dee, who has an arm around his shoulders. Virgil looks up at Dee, a silent question.  

“No lies.” Dee murmurs, and Virgil bites his lip. “You wanna let him in?” He asks softly. Virgil hesitates, but nods.  

“If he means it... yeah.” Virgil mumbles.  

“He does. Remus, stop playing. V- Anxiety says he can come in.” He calls, catching himself before using Virgil’s actual name. Remus sighs, but steps aside.  

“Well? Come in then.”  

Hesitantly, Patton steps inside the dark room, taking in the soft, dark carpet, the dark to light purple gradient painted on the walls. There are also posters for bands carefully hung in frames, and a few posters for movies that Anxiety must like. He sees fairy lights strung across the ceiling that sparkle like stars without the main lights turned on.  

He lets out a soft noise of hurt as he takes in Anxiety, knees pulled to his chest, his shoulders hunched. His eyeshadow is smeared all over his face, his eyes red and puffy. He glances at Deceit, not as surprised to see him here, tilting his head. Deceit nods minutely, and he sits down next to Anxiety, legs dangling over the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him, to give him space.  

“hey kiddo. How’s your shoulder?” He asks.  

“better. Dee helped. It still... still hurts.” His voice is quiet and unsure and hoarse.  

“Yeah. I think it would be pretty strange if it didn’t. I’m glad you’re going to be ok, though. Even if it hurts now, it’ll feel better eventually.”  

“will it?” He is surprised as Patton pulls him into a hug, startled, but after a moment he leans into it, tucking his chin against Patton’s shoulder.  

“I have never wanted you to die. I have never wanted you to leave. You’re one of my kiddos, kiddo, and that means I stand up for you when something hurts you, no matter who or what it is.”

“i’m scared. I hate... I hate being small... I hate... it’s so big, everything... I could drown, in a puddle, I could be crushed by a book, I could be stepped on, I could be crushed, I could get hurt and no one would know, no one would realize or find me. I could be caged...” He chokes out, fear flooding through him again. “I could be caged and my influence squashed, and then no one would protect Thomas, look out for dangers, keep him... keep him on task, keep him motivated to d-do better. I c-can't... trapped, and b-bars and it-it's too much... too small...” He is shaking again, on the edge of hysteria, but Patton is rocking him, holding him.  

“Oh honey... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. We didn’t know you were gonna be that little. I’m sorry we didn’t ask permission first, we weren’t thinking. I promise, promise,” he pulled back so Anxiety could see his eyes, tears spilling down his own cheeks, “that I will physically fight anyone who suggests we do that again, who even dares to mention putting you in a cage. I nearly did fight Roman, Logan had to hold me back.” That gets a weak laugh out of Anxiety, imagining Logan holding back a kicking and spitting furious Patton. “I love you, kiddo. I really, really do, and if anyone has a problem with that, has a problem with you, they’ll have to go through me first.” Patton’s voice is fierce, and he doesn’t have to look at Dee to know that he isn’t lying.  

“T-thomas-”  

“Is worried about you, kiddo. I came to check on you cause he wanted to make sure you were gonna be ok. What you said... really, really scared us, but we didn’t wanna summon you, because we knew you probably didn’t want to be summoned. He’s sorry, too. We all are.”  

“Even Roman?” He asks, bitterness in his voice. Patton hesitates, sighing.  

“I don’t know. I think... I think he’s sorry he got yelled at, sorry he got in trouble, sorry we didn’t agree with him. But I don’t think he’s sorry for what he actually did to you, said to you. Which makes me angry, because he should be sorry, but he isn’t, and if he isn’t, I can’t change that. What I can do is make sure you are going to be alright. I can learn what else we shouldn’t do without asking your permission. I can be better at speaking up when Roman threatens or takes jabs at you, and eventually, hopefully, his attitude will change as he learns none of us are going to enable him anymore. I’m sorry it went this far.” He blinks, surprised. He didn’t expect Patton to acknowledge Roman’s inability to see his own wrongdoings. He didn’t expect Patton to admit to his own shortcomings. He didn’t expect Patton to be... honest.  

“What would you like us to do for now, Anxiety? Clearly, you have two people who love you very much helping your right now, so I feel ok leaving, if you like. I just didn’t want you to be alone, when you were so upset. Thomas... all of us, want to speak with you about what happened, to try and make ammends, but we’ll do that on your terms, so there’s no rush. Just, whenever you’re ready to talk, we’re ready to listen.  If you like, I can bring you meals, if you don’t wanna leave your room for a while. I wanna keep you healthy, and I know if I leave you to your own devices it’ll be chips and soda for every meal.” He lets out a little snort at that, because Patton is right, of course, and he’s already calmed down so much because Patton is being so nice, and he knows Dee would have told him if Patton had lied.  

“that all sounds good, yeah.” He mumbles, shifting out of Patton’s hug, pulling his knees to his chest once again.  

“ok. Is there anything else you need, or would like me to do?” He bites his lip, thinking.  

“Just... just let them know I’m ok? If they’re really that worried about me.” Patton squeezes his non injured shoulder once as he stands, smiling gently.  

“Will do, kiddo. If you ever need anything, or just want some company, don’t be afraid to call me up.”  

“I... might.” Patton smiles again, soft and warm.  

“I love you, Anxiety.” Patton turns away, but before he sinks out, Virgil steels his courage.  

“Virgil!” He shouts, and the room seems to freeze. Remus is staring at him in wide eyed surprise. Deceit has stopped rubbing his back, and Patton falters mid step, before turning to face him, something akin to awe on his face. “That’s... my name. My name is Virgil.” A huge smile blooms across Patton’s face, his eyes light up with tender joy, and he sniffles, wiping away tears.  

“Virgil. I think that’s a lovely name, Virgil. I know I'm usually a blabber mouth, but it when it counts, I can keep a secret.” Patton winks, sending a smile flashing across his own face as warmth blooms in his chest. With a wave, Patton sinks out, and he collapses back against Deceit with a long, low sigh.  

“You sure about that, Virg?” Remus asks, from where he’s leaning against the wall, having simply observed everything.  

“yeah. Yeah I... think I am.” He feels Dee press another soft kiss to the top of his head.  

“Proud of you, lovely.” He smiles, closing his eyes as he feels Remus settle on the other side of him. He is still scared and afraid and knows the nightmares won’t leave him alone for ages, now. But he also knows that at least Patton is on his side. And Patton is almost more of a mama bear than Deceit. If the two of them are looking out for him, he knows nothing will hurt him like this ever again.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #thomas #deceit sanders #unsympathetic roman #mostly he's a dick #pre accepting anxiety #sympathetic dark sides #minor injury #virgil angst #platonic anxceitmus #hurt/comfort #Angst with a happy ending #shape shifting

[bright-eyes-strawberry-lies]

The Weather In PJO (brought to you by gods and demigods)

*alternating colors for ease of reading

**page numbers look weird because they're copied/pasted from ebooks

“Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I’d ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We’d had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn’t have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.” - TLT pg 33

“One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.” - TLT pg 65

“Outside, it really was storming, the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There was no horse or eagle on the beach, just lightning making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery. [...] Long Island never sees hurricanes this early in the summer. But the ocean seemed to have forgotten.” - TLT pg 156

“There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom!, and our car exploded.” - TLT pg 176

“I was still in bed in cabin three. My body told me it was morning, but it was dark outside, and thunder rolled across the hills. A storm was brewing. I hadn’t dreamed that.” - TLT pg 491

“It started to rain. Volleyball players stopped their game and stared in stunned silence at the sky.

I had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of me.” - TLT pg 520

“BOOOOOM!

The windows of the bus exploded as the passengers ran for cover. Lightning shredded a huge crater in the roof, but an angry wail from inside told me Mrs. Dodds was not yet dead.” - TLT pg 629

“The weather had completely changed. It was stormy, with heat lightning flashing out in the desert.” - TLT pg 988

“In the distance, Los Angeles was on fire, plumes of smoke rising from neighborhoods all over the city. There had been an earthquake, all right, and it was Hades’s fault.” - TLT pg 1191

“I was standing on a deserted street in some little beach town. It was the middle of the night. A storm was blowing. Wind and rain ripped at the palm trees along the sidewalk. Pink and yellow stucco buildings lined the street, their windows boarded up. A block away, past a line of hibiscus bushes, the ocean churned.” - SOM pg 10

“After a few more minutes, the dark splotches ahead of us came into focus. To the north, a huge mass of rock rose out of the sea-an island with cliffs at least a hundred feet tall. About half a mile south of that, the other patch of darkness was a storm brewing. The sky and sea boiled together in a roaring mass.” - SOM pg 598

“A storm raged that night, but it parted around Camp Half-Blood as storms usually did. Lightning flashed against the horizon, waves pounded the shore, but not a drop fell in our valley. We were protected again, thanks to the Fleece, sealed inside our magical borders.” - SOM pg 1045

“Sleet and snow pounded the highway. Annabeth, Thalia, and I hadn’t seen each other in months, but between the blizzard and the thought of what we were about to do, we were too nervous to talk much.” - TTC pg 11

“Old spirits are protecting the bad boat.”

“The Princess Andromeda?” I said. “Luke’s boat?”

“Yes. They make it hard to find. Protect it from Daddy’s storms. Otherwise he would smash it.” - TTC pg 210

“Clouds seemed to be swirling around its peak, as though the mountain was drawing them in, spinning them like a top. “What’s going on up there? A storm?”

Zoë didn’t answer. I got the feeling she knew exactly what the clouds meant, and she didn’t like it.” - TTC pg 751

“I will do my best to destroy his boat with storms, but he is making alliances with my enemies, the older spirits of the ocean. They will fight to protect him.” - TTC pg 886

“We were standing at the dining pavilion, just where we’d last spoken before I went on the quest. The wind was bitter cold, even with the camp’s magical weather protection. Snow fell lightly against the marble steps. I figured outside the camp borders, there must be a blizzard happening.”- TTC pg 915

“The wind whipped cold off the bay. In the south, San Francisco gleamed all white and beautiful, but in the north, over Mount Tamalpais, huge storm clouds swirled. The whole sky seemed like a black top spinning from the mountain where Atlas was imprisoned, and where the Titan palace of Mount Othrys was rising anew. It was hard to believe the tourists couldn’t see the supernatural storm brewing, but they didn’t give any hint that anything was wrong.

“It’s even worse,” Annabeth said, gazing to the north. “The storms have been bad all year, but that—” - BOTL pg 359

“I had no choice. I called to the sea. I reached inside myself and remembered the waves and the currents, the endless power of the ocean. And I let it loose in one horrible scream.

Afterward, I could never describe what happened. An explosion, a tidal wave, a whirlwind of power simultaneously catching me up and blasting me downward into the lava. Fire and water collided, superheated steam, and I shot upward from the heart of the volcano in a huge explosion, just one piece of flotsam thrown free by a million pounds of pressure. The last thing I remember before losing consciousness was flying, flying so high Zeus would never have forgiven me, and then beginning to fall, smoke and fire and water streaming from me. I was a comet hurtling toward the earth.” - BOTL pg 618/619

“Mrs. O’Leary howled. I patted her head, trying to comfort her as best I could. The earth rumbled—an earthquake that could probably be felt in every major city across the country—as the ancient Labyrinth collapsed. Somewhere, I hoped, the remains of the Titan’s strike force had been buried.” - BOTL pg 1005

“I remembered what Tyson had told me at the beginning of the summer. “The old sea gods?”

“Indeed. The battle came first to me, Percy. In fact, I cannot stay long. Even now the ocean is at war with itself. It is all I can do to keep hurricanes and typhoons from destroying your surface world, the fighting is so intense.” - BOTL pg 1066

“Then the entire sea grew dark in front of us, like an inky storm was rolling in. Thunder crackled, which should've been impossible underwater. A huge icy presence was approaching. I sensed a wave of fear roll through the armies below us.” - TLO pg 153

“I saw a bank of storm clouds rolling across the Midwest plains. Lightning flickered. Lines of tornadoes destroyed everything in their path— ripping up houses and trailers, tossing cars around like Matchbox toys. “Monumental floods," an announcer was saying. "Five states declared disaster areas as the freak storm system sweeps east, continuing its path of destruction." The cameras zoomed in on a column of storm bearing down on some Midwest city. I couldn't tell which one. Inside the storm I could see the giant—just small glimpses of his true form: a smoky arm, a dark clawed hand the size of a city block. His angry roar rolled across the plains like a nuclear blast.” - TLO pg 216-218

“Over the city, a thunderstorm boiled—a wall of absolute black with lightning streaking across the sky. A few blocks away, swarms of emergency vehicles gathered with their lights flashing. A column of dust rose from a mound of rubble, which I realized was a collapsed skyscraper. [...] Wind whipped her hair. The temperature was dropping rapidly, like ten degrees just since I'd been standing there.” - TLO pg 468-470

“She faltered as a mighty groan cut through the sky. A blast of lightning hit the center of the darkness. The entire city shook. The air glowed, and every hair on my body stood up. The blast was so powerful I knew it could only be one thing: Zeus's master bolt. It should have vaporized its target, but the dark cloud only staggered backward. A smoky fist appeared out of the clouds. It smashed another tower, and the whole thing collapsed like children's blocks.

The reporter screamed. People ran through the streets. Emergency lights flashed.” - TLO pg 470-471

“Listen to me!" I said. "Kronos's army is invading Manhattan.'"

"Don't you think we know that?" East asked. "I can feel his boats right now. They're almost across."

"Yep," Hudson agreed. "I got some filthy monsters crossing my waters too."

"So stop them," I said. "Drown them. Sink their boats."

"Why should we?" Hudson grumbled. "So they invade Olympus. What do we care?"

"Because I can pay you.” - TLO pg 654

“Water sprayed his face, stinging his eyes. The wind picked up, and Hyperion staggered backward.

"Percy!" Grover called in amazement. "How are you doing that?"

Doing what? I thought.

Then I looked down, and I realized I was standing in the middle of my own personal hurricane. Clouds of water vapor swirled around me, winds so powerful they buffeted Hyperion and flattened the grass in a twenty-yard radius. Enemy warriors threw javelins at me, but the storm knocked them aside.

"Sweet," I muttered. "But a little more!"

Lightning flickered around me. The clouds darkened and the rain swirled faster. I closed in on Hyperion and blew him off his feet.” - TLO pg 903-904

#pjo #riordanverse #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson series #percy jackson #percy is like 'i will pay you to drown these kids who want to live better lives' #percy is like 'look i blew up most of them and i'll crush the skulls of the rest but you need to drown some for me' #poseidon is out here like 'these powerful old gods are fighting me but i'm going to fight harder you know to keep the mortals safe' #poseidon be like 'i have never drowned anyone in my life' #poseidon: unless you're into that son. then i've drowned a lot of people. and you can too. #i love my evil callous son percy jackson #go kill everyone darling as a treat #dark percy is canon you guys are just cowards with selective reading skills #also nico made a blizzard outside of camp half-blood and made it snow inside of chb #that's pretty impressive since only zeus has made weather inside of cbh borders #zeus fighting typhon like 'i am going to level this fucking city' #calling it kronos army really is such a clean and sterile way of referring to it #all of the hundreds of demigods that wanted better lives #who are willing to die for better lives and who do die #mainly by percy's hands #nevermind monsters who used to be demigods or were unfortunately born that way #no souls. constantly craving eating the things that want to kill them. #going through torture until they die and wind up in hell then crawl out of hell for it to start all over again #forever. there's no end to this. they didn't ask to be monsters. the gods are responsible for a lot of them. all of them. #the complete and utter disregard of mortal lives by the olympian side #at least with mount orthys the mortals had no idea there were storms #zeus threw a bitch fit that lasted for six months and killed thousands of people #but yeah the olympians are the good guys #it really is the story of a villain told from the winner's side

[obiwanobi]

clem I beg of you,, please can we have some soft senator skywalker/sith senator kenobi content? like, anakin falling asleep in obi-wan’s bed and obi-wan waking up with a warm body cuddled up to him kinda content. senator skywalker wearing something that makes him look so pretty, but it’s a flimsy fabric, and obi-wan takes off his heavy cape to drape over his shoulders kinda content. that kind of content. please? 🥺🥺

I really like the cape idea, so here’s 1.6k with a softer Senator Skywalker/Sith Senator Kenobi (not completely soft, because slavery is the main topic here): 

The Zygerrian arc doesn’t happen the same way in this AU, and the Jedi fail to save the Togruta colonists from the slavers. Despite Senator Skywalker’s endless requests and virulence on the subject, the Chancellor announces that they don’t have have the time, resources and men to send another rescue team.

So, Senator Skywalker decides to convince them to finally take a stand against slavery in the outer rim in a different way.

The day he’s scheduled to speak in front of the Senate, he’s dressed as a pleasure slave.

It’s enough of a shock to see him wearing a thin piece of fabric barely covering his legs, and nothing else but jewellery in his hair and on his shoulders, that the whole room goes silent the second he’s on the screen and starts speaking. Until now, Senator Skywalker has always worn masculine clothes, dark and sharp, covering him from neck to toes. This is...  a genius idea to make people pay attention and talk about it. 

His speech is just like him: intense, emotional, a bit too measured sometimes to be the product of his mind only (Obi-Wan strongly suspects that Amidala must have helped writing it) but heartfelt enough to get the whole room standing at the end, clapping and looking more solemn and involved than when they arrived. There is a buffet right after, and suddenly senators who couldn’t give less than a fuck before about what’s happening past the Core, push themselves to get a word of support to Skywalker, congratulating him, praising him for such a great speech. More than one pair of eyes slide down from his shoulders to his thighs, resting a bit too long on his bareback and hips. Skywalker tries to make a good impression, but when he’s not trying to loosen the collar around his neck, he’s clenching and unclenching his fists rapidly.��

Obi-Wan doesn’t approach him at all.

It’s Skywalker who has to find him on a balcony, away from the agitation. The star-shaped diamonds and tiny pearls tangled in his hair tinkle in the wind, announcing his presence. 

Obi-Wan isn’t sure how it happens, but as always, they get into an argument.

It starts with Skywalker saying that he doesn’t get why Obi-Wan hasn’t dragged him to the nearest fresher the second he was alone. He thought, surely, that he would love the clothes, and did he know that slaves cannot wear underwear? And it should be hot, it should make Obi-Wan push him against a pillar and see for himself if it’s true, but Skywalker’s voice is cool and composed and he has never be composed a day in its life, and Obi-Wan never knew he would hate it that much.

So he tells him that he hates the clothes. And Skywalker’s façade shatters. He sneers, laughs sarcastically, saying that, ah, yes, it’s a reminder that he has fucked a slave, or former slave, but what’s the difference for people outside of the outer rim? So sorry Kenobi, you must be ashamed now, I get it, especially when you’re dressed like that, all in white, hair thrown back, high collar, long cape and pristine boots, and so, so white, like — and it’s so, so funny, isn’t it— any slave master with endless credits to spare.

It’s exactly what Obi-Wan thought. Right before going to see him, he pictured himself standing beside Skywalker, buttoned up to the neck and long immaculate cape flowing around his boots.

Only a chain in his hand linked to Skywalker’s collar would have been missing.

His feet didn’t take him further. It would be bad for his image too, came as an afterthought. 

He can’t find the words to explain that he can’t talk about it right now because there is no way he’s not going to fuck it up. Obi-Wan doesn’t care about anything happening in the outer rim, has never cared, and doesn’t want to care about it. He’s not supposed to care. But he can’t help this mass of ugly, black and shameful feelings he gets when he looks at Skywalker dressed like a who—  pleasure slave, and imagines another life for him, where he never got away from his master. It’s a good thing Skywalker is completely Force-blind, because he wouldn’t miss the impact his speech made on a Sith lord’s emotional balance.

 A genius idea indeed. 

In the middle of all these confusing feelings, Skywalker talking and making himself so wound up over things Obi-Wan doesn’t want to hear, his eyes wander along his long neck, follow the jewels around his shoulders, and he realises that there are goosebumps all over Skywalker’s arms. Because he’s still half-naked. When it’s barely fifteen degrees outside.

Skywalker instantly shuts his mouth when Obi-Wan throws his cape at him. He doesn’t react when Obi-Wan drapes it over his tense shoulders, fastens the golden buttons right under his throat, and even takes the time to run his hand along the fabric, just to make sure that it falls properly to his ankles. It looks good on him.

Obi-Wan’s fingers brush a few curls away from his face, making the small gems hidden in his hair produce a faint melodious jingle. It looks perfect. 

“What do yo-”

“Come home with me,” he wants to order, but his voice is too low, too rough, and it comes out like a plea. “I’m not— You’ve been wearing this for hours and I can see how much you dislike it. Dislike how people look at you. So come home with me, take it off and we can get to work. If you want to finally see some changes, you have to act now.  After that speech, the press will want to talk to you and we need to talk about your statement. No offence to Amidala, but some parts of it were too reasonable to sound like you.”

Skywalker’s face is unreadable for a few seconds during which Obi-Wan’s throat tightens painfully. He can imagine the softer and soothing words he should have offered trapped there, squeezed and pushed back to make way for his lacklustre and half-hidden vow of support. I care. I think I care. But only about you. 

But then, Skywalker laughs, softly. “Asshole,” he chuckles, and he’s watching Obi-Wan with something he’s not accustomed to, but Obi-Wan thinks it’s fondness.

Something that has been stuck for a while moves in Obi-Wan’s chest. It feels suspiciously like his heart making his presence known for the first time in decades.  

“The Holonet is already blowing up because of you,” he says while his fingers are playing with the fasteners of his cape, lightly touching the skin right under Skywalker’s neck. He holds his breath a second longer each time Obi-Wan’s thumb rubs a bit harder there. It’s fascinating to watch. “I think half of the Republic is salivating over holos of your thighs, and if I hear one more senator talking about how they’ve always supported you when they don’t even know your full name, I might do something inappropriate with the cutlery and their necks.” 

“Oh, and you only want my thighs around you tonight, is that it?”

There’s no way Obi-Wan’s going to do anything with him dressed as a slave. He’s gorgeous and half-naked under his cape, but each time Obi-Wan thinks about it he sees the many senators and aides who had squeezed their hands on his arms, shoulders, weren’t even embarrassed when Obi-Wan caught them staring at his ass, and how Skywalker has tensed a bit more each time. It’s a miracle he hasn’t punched someone. A shame, really, Obi-Wan would have loved to watch that. 

But Skywalker probably wouldn’t believe him. “Statement first. I know how lazy and languid you get after sex, it’s impossible to get you to do anything except sleep.”

“Can’t help it if you fuck me in a way I really enjoy.”

“So,” Obi-Wan ignores him, because it’s not the time to think about Skywalker coming undone under his hands, even if he, too, really enjoys it. “You’ll take off these ridiculous clothes, I’ll make some tea, and we’ll look up which news channels to trust with this topic. Timing is key, and you should make the most of your sudden popularity.” 

“Kenobi, are you actually caring about something else than yourself right now?”

“Don’t be disgusting,” he frowns, his hands tugging lightly on the cape. It makes Skywalker leans towards him, and makes his smile grows a bit more. “I just don’t want to have to stop you from beating up the next person who makes a grand discourse about how empowering you must feel by reclaiming your right to wear a revealing outfit.”

“It can still happen, don’t lose hope,” he nods. “And then what, I’ll borrow one of your tunics? It’s probably too small for me.” 

“Oh, if that’s the case, I guess I’ll take this back, then,” he says, unfastening his cape. 

Skywalker’s hand on his stops his movement. “Oh no, I’m keeping this. I plan to cross the buffet room with your cape around me in front of everyone just to embarrass you.”

“Wait, no, don’t-”

But he’s already gone, running and laughing.

Obi-Wan hopes that only a few people would realise that the cape is his, but after a few steps in the room, Skywalker turns around, makes the cape spin dramatically and says loudly, batting his eyelashes, “are you coming, Obi-Wan?” 

He really should have murdered him when he had the chance. 

The next day, Obi-Wan wakes up with a large and warm body across his chest. There are pearls and golden pendants everywhere on his pillow because Skywalker couldn’t be bothered to take them all out of his hair, and Obi-Wan grew bored after the ninth hair clip. 

His sleep tunic is a bit too small for him.

Obi-Wan is never going to admit it. 

#obi-wan: *worrying about anakin's mental state and being upset about people objectifying him* #'i will pretend it's only for the sex' #'it's way more logical than me actually caring' #ssssk au #god what a stupid name for this au #obikin #asks #anon #senate affair au

[blu-joons]

Holiday Traffic ~ Kim Taehyung

Your eyes rolled as you stared out of the window at all the passing cars. The tap of your feet nervously against the bottom of the car was beginning to get to Taehyung too as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, praying for a miracle to get the traffic moving again.

Neither of you could remember the last time you’d moved more than a few metres, and whilst the city always got a bit busier during the holidays, it was never this bad.

“We’d be quicker just walking,” you frowned, throwing your head back to look up at the roof of the car. “Why don’t we just dump the car for the night, it’ll still probably be in the exact same position tomorrow?”

Taehyung’s eyes glanced across at you, as tempting as that offer was, he wasn’t quite as prepared to pay the fine that would probably come with it. “I’m sure it’ll start moving soon,” he tried to reassure you, weakly smiling.

Your eyes continued to roll as you stared ahead at what felt like an endless line of traffic in front of the two of you. Each car you passed by had the same disgruntled passengers like the two of you, no one liked to be stuck in traffic, especially at Christmas.

The only thing you were thankful for was the heat that came from the car, dressed in your costume for tonight’s office Christmas party seemed like a great idea, until you were handed your costume by your boss.

Taehyung knew what your boss was up to when you revealed the costume to him, but he tried to remain calm. He couldn’t deny what a cute elf you made, your knee-high striped socks and short green dress somehow perfectly emphasised what a great body you had.

Every so often, you’d catch him glancing across at you, smiling weakly as you brought your legs into your chest to try and stop yourself from freezing.

“We’re going to be so late,” you continued to groan, only making Taehyung chuckle more. “I bet I won’t get the Christmas bonus now; it’ll go to someone else.”

“Missing out on the bonus isn’t the end of the world,” Taehyung tried to reassure you, “if the traffic moves soon, I promise I’ll get us there in time.”

Your head shook, “knowing you, you’ll wind up with a ticket, and that is no good for anyone.”

His shoulders shrugged as he turned away from you, edging the car a couple of metres forwards as the cars began to move, only coming to a quick stop again a few moments later.

You became more and more impatient as you sat in a standstill, looking out at the glances of people looking at your hair and makeup didn’t help the anxiety that was growing within.

“Maybe I should just call and let them know we’re going to be late,” you suggested, grabbing for your phone, but Taehyung’s hand quickly stopped you.

“You’re freaking out, we’re not going to be late, I promise. It won’t be long before the traffic starts moving, we knew it would be busy, that’s why you made me leave two hours early in the first place,” he reminded you with a light chuckle, “we still have an hour before it starts.”

“It’s Christmas Taehyung, all these people are probably driving into the city for trips and meetings,” you sighed, “I just wish I could click my fingers, and everyone would start moving, but I don’t think even Santa is powerful enough to do that.”

It was the same every year, living in the city meant it always got chaotic. Usually, you didn’t mind, but driving in such a huge crowd dressed as an elf wasn’t quite how you planned your evening. The longer you waited, the more your impatience began to grow.

“My boss knew what he was doing when he made me wear this stupid costume, how many people do you reckon are laughing as they drive by?” You asked, throwing your arms into the air.

Taehyung’s hand came across and rested onto your thigh, “nobody is laughing at you, if they have any sense then they’ll notice how cute you look. I’ve seen plenty of kids smiling as they driven by though, so at least that’s one good thing you can take from this.”

Slowly your head nodded, although his words didn’t make you feel much better. Each time the car jolted forwards you’d given up with leaping forwards in hope, instead choosing to just sit back and not hold eye contact with a single person you passed.

“You make a really sexy elf you know,” Taehyung suddenly whispered.

“I look like a fool, now I remember why I hate Christmas parties so much.”

“That’s nonsense, I might have to buy you a few pairs of those socks for after tonight.”

Your eyes widened at his wide smile, the cheekiness that you adored so much was right in front of you with no sign of hiding. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?” You continued to doubt as his head nodded back at you.

“A small part of me wants to just find a way to turn this car around and head back home,” he grinned.

Your eyes lit up just at the mention, “I wouldn’t stop you, in fact I’d definitely encourage you. Maybe I could just ring my boss and tell him that I’m sick.”

It was almost like you jinxed yourself as in that moment the traffic began to move, but just as you expected for the stop to happen, it never came. You glanced forward and noticed what had happened with one of the other lanes opening up after an accident had been cleared.

“Looks like we’re heading to the office,” Taehyung teased, spotting how disappointed you were. “You must be relieved; you would never want to miss the party.”

“I hate you,” you grumbled folding your arms across your chest, “are you sure you don’t want to just turn off at the intersect. Tae, this party is the last thing I want to go to, I’m dressed as an elf, it’s like I belong in a department store.”

Yet again Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh, squeezing tighter at your leg. “Let’s just got and show our faces, pick up the presents from the Secret Santa, maybe pinch a bit of food from the buffet and then I promise we can come back home, we don’t have to stay long.”

You nodded, holding out your pinkie for him to lock his in with. “If we stay for more than two hours you can spend tonight on the sofa and this elf will go to bed alone.”

“There is no way I will allow that to happen,” he smirked, trailing his eyes down your body once again. “It’ll be far too cold for a little elf to go to bed all by themselves.”

“You best make sure you get me out of that party as soon as possible then.”

You glanced out of the window as soon enough your office got closer, it was a place you usually loved to be, but not tonight. Taehyung could see how hard you were pretending to smile, noticing the leg bounce reappear as you got closer, just like it did earlier in the traffic.

His hand rested over your leg again, “you were scared we were going to be late, and now you’re anxious we’re going to be early. Think of it this way, the sooner we get there, the sooner we leave.”

“I guess you’re right, but if just one person laughs at this costume, I’m coming straight home. My boss probably saw me coming when he knocked on the door and handed me this.”

“Maybe he thought you’d look beautiful, because you do,” he chimed.

You always appreciated his kindness and how much he tried to make you smile. “You’re sweet, but not even a supermodel could pull this costume off. It’s like someone pushed me over in a Christmas aisle and everything just stuck to me.”

“You’re stressing,” he assured you, “trust me, the costume looks great, the party won’t be as bad as you think, and I’ll be by your side the entire time. Even if you’re not having a good time, just fake a smile and everyone will leave you alone.”

As much as you weren’t looking forward to the party, you couldn’t deny your excitement to spend time with Taehyung. If there was one person who was going to make you feel a little bit cute as an elf, it was definitely him.

“If nothing else, I’ll keep reminding you how much of a sexy elf you make all night long,” he whispered.

“You’re going to get me in trouble if someone hears you talking like that,” you scolded him, “just stay on your best behaviour until we get home at least.”

“I am not making any promises, especially when you look as hot as that.”

---

Masterlist

#bts #bts imagine #taehyung #taehyung imagine #kim taehyung #kim taehyung imagine #bts reaction #bts scenario #v #v imagine #bts drabble #bts one shot #bts fluff #taehyung reaction #taehyung scenario #taehyung drabble #taehyung one shot #taehyung fluff #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #kpop #kpop imagine

[germanicseidr]

Chauci

The Chauci were a Germanic tribe situated in modern day north-western Germany and parts of north-eastern Netherlands. They were neighboured by the Frisii to the west, the Ampsivarii and Cherusci to the south, and the Lombardi to the east. From a cultural perspective, they were incredibly similar to the Frisii, the reason why is because the landscape was exactly the same, flat swampy coastal land without trees. Both tribes built their homes on terps, artificial hills, to protect them from the sea and both thrived on fishing and raiding.

The meaning of the name Chauci is still a puzzle but there is a theory that the word Chauci is derived from the Proto-Germanic root for the word 'spear', 'ger. Another theory suggests that the word Chauci is derived from the Proto-Germanic word 'Hauhae', high-comers.

The first written mention of this tribe comes from one of Rome's most succesful Roman generals, Drusus Germanicus, yes the same general who died after a fall from his horse. During 12BC, Germanicus was present north of the Rhine and subjugated the Frisii. The Chauci, being their neigbours, were next on Germanicus' list but the Gods were with the Chauci as low tides trapped Germanicus' ships so he was forced to retreat.

The next written mention comes from another Roman general called Germanicus. Between 14-16AD Germanicus invaded Germania in order to revenge the lost battle of Teutoburgerwald. Instead of entering Germania by crossing the Rhine, he sailed around the north sea coast and invaded Germania from Frisii territory. Something quite peculiar happened during Germanicus' campaign between him and the Chauci.

The Chauci did not parttake in Arminius'alliance and were thus not a target of the Roman empire. Yet they weren't popular amongst the Romans either because of their continuous raids on Roman vessels and settlements. I have told the story before on how Germanicus' fleet was hit by a storm and largely destroyed. Germanicus himself however escaped with his life because the Chauci saved him. It is unknown why the Chauci decided to help the Roman army hit by a storm, was it for altruistic purposes or did they just want a better reputation in Rome? The whole event has been described by Tacitus in his annals, here is a small piece:

"But soon the hail poured from a black mass of clouds, and simultaneously the waves, buffeted by conflicting gales from every quarter, began to blot out the view and impede the steering. The soldiers, struck by alarm and unfamiliar with the sea and its hazards, nullified by their obstruction or mistimed help the services of the professional sailors. Then all heaven, all ocean, passed into the power of the south wind which, drawing its strength from the sodden lands of Germania, the deep rivers, the endless train of clouds with its grimness enhanced by the rigour of the neighbouring north, caught and scattered the vessels to the open ocean or to islands either beetling with crags or perilous from sunken shoals.

These were avoided with time and difficulty but, when the tide began to change and set in the same direction as the wind, it was impossible either to hold anchor or to bale out the inrushing flood. Chargers, pack-horses, baggage, even arms, were jettisoned, in order to lighten the hulls, which were leaking through the sides and overtopped by the waves. Precisely as the ocean is more tempestuous than the remaining sea, and Germania unequalled in the asperity of its climate, so did that calamity transcend others in extent and novelty, around them lying hostile shores or a tract so vast and profound that it is believed the last and landless deep.

Some of the ships went down, more were stranded on remote islands where, in the absence of human life, the troops died of starvation, except for a few who supported themselves on the dead horses washed up on the same beach. Germanicus' galley put in to the Chaucian coast alone. Throughout all those days and nights, posted on some cliff or projection of the shore, he continued to exclaim that he was guilty of the great disaster and his friends with difficulty prevented him from finding a grave in the same waters.

Not a man returned from the distance without his tale of marvels, furious whirlwinds, unheard-of birds, enigmatic shapes half-human and half-bestial things seen, or things believed in a moment of terror." - Tacitus, Annals

In 47AD both the Chauci and Frisii joined the pirate Gannascus of the Cananefates tribe on his proto-viking raids. The Chauci were notorious for raiding but now with an experienced former Roman soldier at their command, their raids entered a new and destructive phase. The three tribes raided the coasts of Gaul, Britannia and Belgica forcing the Romans to strengthen their defenses and deploy triremes on the Rhine river. Eventually Gannascus was asassinated by the Romans which almost led to a Roman-Germanic war.

Only a few years later in 69AD the Batavi tribe revolted against the Romans together with the Frisii and Cananefates. The Chauci sent military troops to Batavi lands in order to support the revolt. Initially it was a very succesful revolt causing the destruction of two Roman legions and several forts but it was put down the following year by the Romans. Even though the Chauci were willing to save Roman lives from drowning, they continued on raiding and attacking Rome at the same time while also supplying Rome with auxilliary troops.

A few years later, somewhere around 70-80AD, a Roman officer, author and philosopher by the name of Pliny the Elder, visited the lands of the Frisii and Chauci and wrote a description on the landscape and way of life:

"Here a wretched race is found, inhabiting either the more elevated spots of land, or else eminences artificially constructed, and of a height to which they know by experience that the highest tides will never reach. Here they pitch their cabins and when the waves cover the surrounding country far and wide, like so many mariners on board ship are the: when, again, the tide recedes, their condition is that of so many shipwrecked men, and around their cottages they pursue the fishes as they make their escape with the receding tide.

It is not their lot, like the adjoining nations, to keep any flocks for sustenance by their milk, nor even to maintain a warfare with wild beasts, every shrub, even, being banished afar. With the sedge and the rushes of the marsh they make cords, and with these they weave the nets employed in the capture of the fish; they fashion the mud, too, with their hands, and drying it by the help of the winds more than of the sun, cook their food by its aid, and so warm their entrails, frozen as they are by the northern blasts; their only drink, too, is rainwater, which they collect in holes dug at the entrance of their abodes." - Pliny the Elder

Tacitus published his work 'Germania' in 98AD and in his work he also wrote a short description on the Chauci:

"The Chauci are the noblest of the Germanic races, a nation who would maintain their greatness by righteous dealing. Without ambition, without lawless violence, they live peaceful and secluded, never provoking a war or injuring others by rapine and robbery. Indeed, the crowning proof of their valor and their strength is, that they keep up their superiority without harm to others. Yet all have their weapons in readiness, and an army if necessary, with a multitude of men and horses; and even while at peace they have the same renown of valor." - Tacitus, Germania

As you might have noticed, Tacitus' words are not very accurate since the Chauci were known for their piracy so it is unclear why Tacitus described them in such a way.

During the late 2nd century AD, the Chauci intensified their raids once again by destroying and pillaging several settlements across north-western Europe. These raids were so intense that the Roman empire spent the next 30 years on building better defenses. Their trail of destruction is still visible to this day as archeologists have found traces of burned settlements along the north sea coast. The Chauci were true raiders at heart and raiding provided them with supplies and food.

Eventually the Saxon confederation came into existence somewhere during the 3rd century AD. The Chauci were either part of the initial tribes who formed the federation or were absorbed by them later. Over time the Chauci lost their individual identity and became known as the Saxons.

Here are images of: A map showing the tribe's location A map showing Germanicus'expeditions (the general who got hit by a storm and was saved by the Chauci), A reconstruction of a Chauci settlement by Marco Prins, Unfortunately there is no artwork ,as far as I know, depicting the Chauci on their raids so I chose a picture of raiding vikings instead. That is the downside of vikings being so immensely popular but not the Germanic tribes that preceeded them many centuries before,

#Germanic Tribes #Germanic #Chauci #German

[ohkiyo]

characters: shiratorizawa team, reader, sakusa kiyoomi, and komori motoya. (quick appearance)

warnings: none, just some good ‘ol fluff.

word count: 5.1k

a/n: this is like a peace offering for not posting any content for the last two or three weeks (?), I also did not intend for this to reach over 5k+ words lol, so hopefully you won’t get bored reading this one. I also gave up editing this somewhere in the middle, so yeah that’s that hahaha. XD

anyways have fun and enjoy! :D

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    shiratorizawa navigation || stth navigation

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“We’re going on a trip in our favorite rocket ship, zooming through the sky! Little Einsteins~” both you and Goshiki bounce on your seat at the back of the bus, singing the theme song of the cartoon you two watch for fun a few days ago. “Climb aboard, get ready to explore there’s so much to find little Einsteins~”

“Aren’t they excited?” a fond smile made its way into Semi’s face as he watches the two first years belting their hearts out to a song made for children. Tendou and Yamagata joining the two, causing the overall noise inside the bus to increased in volume. Their English pronunciation was horrible, but it didn’t stop them from sharing their – talent.

Kawanishi, who was two seats away from the four was also humming along, snacking on a chocolate bar, his phone on his hand capturing it all on camera, probably for future blackmail material. While Shirabu who was seated beside him, continues to sleep, unbothered by the ruckus happening inside the bus.

“This is their first time going to Tokyo after all” Reon answered, before he tilted his head to the side when they switch to a different song, this time, it was Tendou’s famous baki baki ni ore. “Since when did Satori taught them that?”

“Probably since the moment they joined”

They were currently on their way to Tokyo for a practice match with another college volleyball team, the colleges that they use to play against in Miyagi were coincidentally busy with academics, something about an upcoming exam that they need to prepare for so they had to cancel.

Fortunately, with Shiratorizawa being a powerhouse school, Coach Saito and Washijou-sensei had connections to institutions outside of Miyagi. So they called up a friend who’s currently handling a college volleyball team and requested for a practice match.

The singing lasted for another thirty minutes before they eventually fell asleep, the bus now quiet. Washijou-sensei who was seated up front, let out a sigh of relief, thankful for the silence, something that Semi and Reon didn’t fail to notice. The two chuckled, as strict as he may be, Washijou-sensei knows when to let his players have their fun, he isn’t exactly a killjoy like some had thought. He’s actually very nice, once you get to know him of course.

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“You’re allowed to go sightseeing but please always bring a buddy with you, to prevent anyone from getting lost” his eyes landed on the older members, silently asking them to keep a close eye on their two first years. “Washijou-sensei and I will be meeting up with Coach Sasaki, so be back before 11”

Everyone nods their heads at his words before the two finally entered the elevator once it reaches your floor. The hotel you were staying at was a bit high class, you don’t know how the club’s fund covered it, but you weren’t complaining.

Each one of you had your own separate room, each guest had three food slips with, one was a free access to an eat-all-you-can food at the dining area’s buffet, while the other two were for a free breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

“So...” Tendou turned around, a grin plastered on his face as he held up the food slip the receptionist gave earlier. “Let’s go fill up our belly and enjoy Tokyo’s nightlife”

With that all nine of you piled into the elevator and press the button for the ground floor, the space a little too tight for your liking. The elevator stops at another floor, two new people entered, resulting in them moving backward to create a space for the newcomers, leaving you to press yourself to the wall.

“Sorry (Y/n)” Ushijima whispered, after accidentally stepping on your foot, he looks over his shoulder as you gave him a thumbs up. Your face now buried on his shirt, his perfume entering your nostrils.

He sure does smell nice, no wonder the girls are after him.

Luckily, for you, your struggle did not last long because finally, the elevator reaches the bottom floor. You swore you almost past out because of how cramp that space was, you feel like you were starting to develop claustrophobia because of it. For a fancy hotel, they sure have very small elevators.

Your group weaves through the other guest inside the hotel, some of them going back to their rooms; some were going the same way as you all were, while the others were going out to enjoy whatever Tokyo has to offer.

“Tokyo hotels are on another level” you whispered, following after them as they went over to where the eating utensils were placed. You carefully scanned the foods displayed, cuisines coming from different countries were all too delicious-looking, you feel like you want to have a plate of each.

“You’re drooling (Y/n)” you heard Shirabu say as he walks past you, the person that was standing behind the counter chuckled as you rub the spit that unknowingly trickled down your chin.

“Sorry”

“It’s fine” she laughs again before she suggested the lamb meat for you to taste. You haven’t tried lamb before so you accepted her offer, watching as she threw in a bunch of slices into the grill. “Well done or medium?”

“Well done please” she started tossing the meat around the steel griddle, the wonderful smell reaching your nose. It smelled so delicious, as the meat slowly turns to that familiar charred look of a well-cooked meat. Once she was done, she places it on your plate as she suggested for you to drizzle it with some of the sauce near the grills.

You moved from one area to another, filling your plate with foods before finally taking a seat on the table they occupied.

“Now we know who are the best people to bring to buffets” Yamagata mused, eyeing yours and Goshiki’s plate filled with different kinds of food, not only that, there were at least one or two more plates on the side also filled with foods.

“They’re big eaters”

Kawanishi took a piece of meat from your plate, exchanging it with a fried dumpling that he accidentally dipped in a spicy sauce. He can handle his spice, however, this particular dip was so spicy his mouth was burning from it.

“Kawanishi-san why…?” you took the glass of cold water Ushijima offered you as you drank it all. It didn’t help though, your mouth was still burning, so Semi fed you a spoonful of chocolate ice cream, the dessert finally easing the flames in your mouth.

“Sorry (Y/n)” Kawanishi bit his lip to stop the smile threatening to come out, secretly sharing a low five with Tendou from under the table. However, that didn’t go unnoticed from Semi’s watchful eyes, stepping on the red head’s foot, Semi shoots him a pointed look as Tendou tries to remove his leg.

“Ow, ow, Semi-Semi that hurts”

The setter didn’t listen to him and continued eating his meal, they all ate in silence after that. Too hungry to strike a conversation with each other, their attention focus on the food in front of them.

Dinner went by fast, once they had finished their food they went out of the hotel and walk through Tokyo. The streets are a little too crowded than the ones they’re used to in Sendai, passing by different kinds of coffee shops, restaurants, inns, and hotels. The choices were endless, it all depends on where you all plan to go.

“Let’s go there first, I want to buy some manga” Tendou pointed at a rather large book shop just across the street, customers walking in and out of the store, wrapped packages in hand.

The inside was filled with rows and rows of shelves full of books, such as novels, textbooks, and of course, manga, on the sides were a section for school supplies and other similar materials. Tendou looks like he’s in heaven because the store offers manga that wasn’t available in Sendai. The moment his foot steps inside the store, he immediately disappeared behind the shelves where the manga was displayed.

“Wasn’t this the book Yato-sensei told us to buy?” Shirabu opened the textbook, skimming through its contents.

“Its ¥2,000” Kawanishi taps the price tag of the same book he’s holding. Shirabu pinches his lips together, closing the book and putting it back to where it belonged.

“Nope, I’ll just borrow from the library”

They move to the end of the aisle to see you holding a basket filled with different kinds of stationeries, Reon and Ushijima also going through the pens and notebooks they had on display before dropping it inside the basket you were holding.

“That’s a lot of pens (Y/n)” Goshiki drops a couple packs of sticky notes in your basket before grabbing a pen and examining it. The little penguin at the top sparking his curiosity as he clicks it, the ball-point emerging from the bottom part of the object.

“My pen’s keeps on disappearing, along with my highlighters and I don’t know who’s taking them” Goshiki stayed quiet at your reply, blinking at you, once, then twice before he slowly returned it in the basket. Reon let out a quiet laugh, fully aware that it was Goshiki who keeps taking your school supplies and not returning them.

Goshiki grabs three more pens and two more highlighters, the exact number of stationeries he took then dropping it in the basket. “I’ll buy these for you (Y/n)-chan”

You smiled at him in gratitude, standing in line at the cashier. “Thank you ‘Tomu-kun”

After paying for the items, you were once again back to the cold street. Aimlessly walking towards your next destination.

“Let’s go to a karaoke bar” Yamagata suggested, zipping up his jacket as the cold had become a little too much for him. Letting out a shiver from the cold air.

“Sure” they located the nearest karaoke bar, entering the establishment. They paid for the amount required for a one-hour session, before entering an empty room. Semi, Tendou, and Yamagata going for the songbook and choosing what song they’re going to sing, while you, Goshiki, and Ushijima went through the menu instead.

“So who’s first?” Tendou’s hand shot up as Yamagata gave him the mic, pressing his song’s code as the title flash on the screen.

“You’re singing Lion King?” Semi laughs watching as Tendou dance around to the song’s opening beat.

“The song has been stuck in my head for a long time now” the redhead cleared his throat before he started singing the first verse.

“There’s a Japanese version of that song?” Kawanishi whispered in surprise, Tendou’s jolly voice and merry demeanor fitting so well with I Just Can’t Wait To Be King’s upbeat tune. It was as if the song was made for him.

10:15pm.

There were only 15 minutes left before the one hour expires, Shirabu was singing some sort of heartbreak song, while sitting on top of Kawanishi who was laying sideways munching on some chips. Totally unbothered by the weight on top of him.

The setter ends his song, a cue for everyone to start packing their stuff and go back to the hotel before Coach Saito and Washijou-sensei catches them still walking around after curfew.

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It’s been three hours since you went to bed and unfortunately not once were you able to get a wink of sleep, nightmares were plaguing your mind. Two people, you’ve never met before constantly visits you in your dreams. It was a man and a woman, you couldn’t see their face but their voices you could hear.

They sometimes try to talk to you, asking how you were doing, if you were alright, or simply saying words of encouragement whenever you were feeling down. Sometimes they were accompanied by another girl, a teenager, who looks like the 15-year-old version of your aunt.

Once again, you turned on your side, pulling your blanket a little closer, screwing your eyes shut. However, it wouldn’t work, so you sat up, and check your phone.

1:30 am.

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating whether or not you should bother one of your teammates. They had a game tomorrow and you don’t want to disturb their sleep, but you were getting restless, and you’re afraid that you might not be able to fall asleep at all.

Finally making up your mind, you got up from your bed, grabbing your phone, key card, before exiting your room. Walking down the hallway towards Goshiki’s room, you have a feeling he’s still awake since he likes to play games until the wee hours of the night.

Standing on his door, you knock twice, pulling at the bottom of your shirt as you look left and right. The empty hallway looking a little too creepy for your liking, you knock again and this time it finally opened, a half-asleep Goshiki greeting you.

“(Y/n)?” he rub his eyes as he opened the door wider, letting you inside. “Did you have nightmares again?”

You nodded your head. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Sure” you followed him to his bed as he took the other side and you on the other. Both of you laying under the covers facing each other. “Better now?”

“Yes, thank you” he gave you one last sleepy smile before closing his eyes. So far, Goshiki was the only one who knows of your nightmares, after he discovered you one time during your first training camp crying under a table.

He was the one who comforted you and offered to let you sleep with him, it somehow became a routine and whenever you would knock on his door, he immediately knows what’s wrong.

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The door to Goshiki’s room burst open as a group of panicked Shiratorizawa upperclassmen barge into the room. Goshiki having heard of his door nearly tearing off its hinges, sat upon his bed. “Senpai?”

Semi marches over to him, grabbing his shoulders and basically shaking him awake. “(Y/n)’s gone, she’s not in her room. We can’t find her anywhere”

“What?”

“Oh man, oh man. If the coach finds out we’re screwed” Yamagata and Tendou grips their hair in frustration, as Reon and Ushijima discuss the possibilities of your disappearance. Kawanishi and Shirabu though were the only ones calm in this situation. 

“Huh?” Goshiki’s brain still wasn’t working though as he still sat there in a daze, unaware of the growing problem his upperclassmen were having.

Kawanishi ruffles his hair as he looks around the room, shifting from one foot to another, before his eyes landed on a lump he failed to notice before that was beside the first year. He taps Shirabu on the shoulder then pointing at the said lump, who was starting to move, leaning dangerously close to the edge of the bed before falling off and landing on the floor with a thud. Bringing the blanket along with them.

“What?” they watch as you continued to snore away on the floor, the fall clearly didn’t affect you in the slightest.

Shirabu shots Goshiki a look of suspicion as the rest shakes you awake. “Why is (Y/n) sleeping with you?”

He didn’t really get any answer because Goshiki just looks at him, still half-asleep.

A scandalized gasp left Tendou’s lips as he points a shaky finger towards the spiker. “Did you and (Y/n) do something? You’re only first years, wait until you’re in college!”

“Satori, what are you talking about?”

“Tendou, I think you took this the wrong way” Ushijima’s hand landed on Tendou’s shoulder, as the redhead whips his head to the captain.

“But Wakatoshi-kun you can’t be too sure!”

“(Y/n) probably got scared and went to Tsutomu for help” Reon started pushing them all out of the room. Semi carrying you, still wrap in Goshiki’s blanket, leaving the first year still sitting on his bed. Once his door clicks shut, he fell back on his bed and went back to sleep.

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“Let’s have a good game!”

You carefully arrange the water bottles and towels on the bench as your team and the college team had their match. Diligently doing your duties as a manager.

“Hello” you look up to see your opponents’ manager standing there, giving you an easy smile, stretching out her hand for you to take. “My name is Mikana Ritsu, nice you meet you”

“(L/n) (Y/n), nice to meet you too Mikana-san” you answered, grasping her hand and giving it a firm shake.

She took a seat on the spare bench, with you taking the place beside her. “I didn’t know they had a manager, are you new?”

“Yes, I’m a first year. I started just a few months ago”

She let out a hum in response as the both of you observe the game in silence, leaving your spot once in a while to assist your respective players before sitting back down again and watching the game. From beside you, Mikana lets out a long yawn as she covers her mouth with the clipboard she’s holding.

“Are you tired Mikana-san?”

She nodded, another yawn leaving her lips. “I had to stay up very late last night for my research paper” she chuckled. “Sleep is very hard to come by when you’re in college”

You turn to look at the older girl, a question forming in your mind due to your curious nature. “Mikana-san, how is college like?”

She taps her chin for a moment, looking up at the ceiling to figure out the best answer for your question. “It’s an emotional roller coaster you know? One moment you’re smiling, then the next you’re crying your eyes out”

She turns her body to look at you. “I remember during my first year that my history teacher vowed to fail all of us because the school has enough students already”

You look at her incredulously, surprised at what she said.

“She made her exams and quizzes very difficult, and her projects were also very ridiculous” she huffs in annoyance, bad memories resurfacing. “We didn’t understand at first why she was doing it, but eventually we found out that she was having problems with her dissertation and she’s taking out all her frustrations on us”

You stared at her wide-eyed, your mouth open agape. The fuck? “We all passed though, so suck for her”

“That was just mean”

“I know right?” she lets out a sigh, before standing up from her seat and re-wrapping their setter’s fingers with tape. Tying it to his preferred tightness before she went back to her spot and him going back into court. “Then we have our thesis”

“Oh yeah, I sometimes see students having breakdowns because of it. Is it really that bad?”

“The process of doing it is very hard, because not only do you have to choose your own topic, you have to choose a very specific one and one that has a lot of references available” you nodded your head, listening to her every word. “Getting rejected is fairly common, so you have to go through the process again and then present it to your panelist”

“When you do your defense, is it scary?”

She laugh at your choices of words, but she can’t really deny it though, because she did felt scared whenever they had a defense. “It’s nerve-wracking honestly, you have to prepare an answer for every possible question or else they’ll reject your paper”

“And you have to repeat all over again” she nods. “That’s so tiring”

“It is, but we have to comply or else we’ll never graduate”

“True”

You both talk throughout the game, until the final whistle was blown and the match finally ended, your team winning the match.

“Shiratorizawa High is still as strong as ever I see” she mused, watching as both teams gave each other a bow. “Congratulations (L/n)-chan”

“Thank you Mikana-san”

You both went on your separate ways, tending to your own players. Giving them their towels, and water bottles along with their snacks. After your final goodbye, you all entered the bus, driving back towards your hotel. It was still early, 3:00 pm in Tokyo is still very lively compared to in Sendai. Most people prefer to stay indoors due to the intense heat, however, a bustling city will always be busy no matter what time of the day.

“We’ll be leaving early tomorrow, so if any of you have anything buy. Souvenirs and other things, you can do so right now. But as always, bring a buddy with you and be back by 11” Coach Saito reminded one last time, before he and Washijou-sensei went inside the hotel, probably to rest and get some sleep before they go out again.

“I actually have some things to buy at the mall” Semi started adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

“Me too” Yamagata said, rummaging through his bag to find his phone, he almost started panicking when he didn’t saw it, but immediately let out a relieved sigh when he saw the device hiding under his sweaty shirt.

“We saw some souvenir shops a few blocks away from here, we’ll be over there”

Once everything was settled and everyone had decided where they want to go. You all separated, Semi, Reon, Ushijima, Yamagata, and Shirabu going to the mall to buy the things they needed while you, Tendou, Kawanishi, and Goshiki decided to walk around instead.

Going through the various shops that were selling different types of souvenirs from shirts to mugs, to keychains and other kinds of stuff.

“(Y/n)-chan, do you have my phone with you?” Goshiki patted his pockets as he looks for the said device.

“It’s in my bag” to patted the backpack you were carrying, adjusting it on your shoulder before letting out a groan at how heavy it is. “Kawanishi-san can we exchange bags? This one’s very heavy”

He nodded his head, pulling the strap over his head as you exchange bags, you let out a sigh of relief, thankful that the strain on your shoulders are now gone. The smell of freshly cook taiyakis catching your attention as the four of you speedwalk towards the stall making it, the food still hot and fresh.

“Ah, hot, hot, hot” Tendou rapidly let out a breath of air to cool down the burning of his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Not expecting for it to be too hot.

You gently blew on your taiyaki, waiting for it to cool down, before you started taking small bites. As your group resume walking along the streets, you spotted a shop filled with trinkets, calling for their attention you all entered the store.

They had a wide range of displays, and although some were a bit expensive, it wasn’t stopping you from buying what you want. The allowance your Aunt gives you every week could literally last you a month, and so any extra money you had, you deposit it in your bank account and wait for the time when you have to use it.

Walking over to Kawanishi, you took your wallet from your bag before you walk off to where they had plushies on display, that dolphin plushy the only thing on your mind right now. Taking the dolphin from its spot on the shelf, you examined it, before looking at a similar one but this time it was a bit bigger. Not too much, so you were contemplating which one to buy.

“The big one looks very comfy though” Goshiki appears beside you, holding a scarf, a cap, and a sweater. “You can snuggle it to sleep”

“Yeah, but don’t you think it’s a little too big?”

He observes the two carefully taking in their size, but still, he preferred the bigger one, so you followed his suggestion.

“Oh! Why not take this one too?” he grabs a tomato plushie of the same size. “Tomato-chan~”

You flick him on the forehead. “I can’t believe you’re sticking with that nickname”

“It’s funny though” he grinned at you.

“Tsutomu, (Y/n) let’s go” the both of you didn’t hear Tendou called you out, as the two of you stayed there. Goshiki insisting that he buys the tomato plushie for you, while you immediately denying his offer because it was already too much. It cost about a thousand yen, and he still has the items he’s holding. Not only that, you still remembered how he bought you those pens and highlighters last night.

The bell hanging at the top of the door rang as the two middle blockers left the shop, unknowingly leaving the two of you behind.

They cross the street, turning a few more corners. Before they were back to the same book store everyone went to last night. Tendou wanting to buy a few more mangas, then Kawanishi forgot he needs to buy a new calculator because he broke his old one. He could just buy one in Sendai, but why wait when he could just do it now?

“(Y/n) can you get my wallet? It’s in the-“ Kawanishi turns around, but no signs of the two first years. He looks from left to right, thinking that maybe they’re just around the corner, but alas, there were no Goshiki, and (Y/n).

“Uh… Tendou-san” Kawanishi tugs on the red head’s jacket as Tendou turns around.

“Hmm, what is it Taichi?”

“(Y/n) and Tsutomu are gone”

Tendou’s eyebrows furrowed as he looks behind the second year, thinking that maybe he was just pulling a prank on him, but still, like before, no first years in sight.

“Oh dear”

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“I can’t believe you actually bought the tomato plushie” you stared at the red-colored plush inside the bag you were holding. Both of you exiting the shop.

“Told you I’d buy it” he looks proud though, you don’t know why, but you’re very grateful for the gift. You note to yourself to get him something in return in the future. “Are Tendou-san and Kawanishi-san still inside?”

“Maybe” he went back inside the shop, as you waited outside the door. When he went back out, he looks worried, which also made you worried.

“Something wrong?”

“They’re not inside”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

He rub his arms, as he went back inside again to check. But still, they weren’t there anymore, walking back out, he shook his head.

“Did they just left us?”

“Probably”

“Should we go find them?” you started fidgeting on your spot, before you remembered, you had Kawanishi’s bag with you. Opening his bag you located his phone only to be left disappointed when you find out it’s dead. “Great, now we can’t contact them”

“Should we go back to the hotel instead?”

“I don’t even know which way our hotel is”

Both of you shared a heavy exhale, retracing your steps to where you both felt your hotel was located. However, you both accidentally took a wrong turn and were now in a different part of the city.

“I knew leaving that place was a bad idea”

“Oh. Aren’t you two from Shiratorizawa?” you saw two persons walking over your direction, wearing a light green and yellow track jacket and track pants.

“Yes” you answered, the one who was currently talking looks nice, you don’t know about his companion though. Even with half of his face covered with a mask, you could still feel the intensity of his stare.

“Ah. I’m Komori Motoya, and this is Sakusa Kiyoomi” he pointed to his friend. “We’re from Itachiyama, we went against your school before”

Itachiyama, the school is familiar, but these two? Not very much. However, they seem nice.

“Are the others with you?” Komori looks around the vicinity. “I don’t see them”

“Uh…”

“You got lost didn’t you?” it was Sakusa who asks this time and Komori let out a laugh.

“We can’t contact them because this phone is dead-” you showed them Kawanishi’s phone. “-and it’s also the only one we have right now”

Komori turns to look at Sakusa. “You have Ushijima’s number right? Why don’t you give him a call, they might be worried right now”

Wordlessly, Sakusa fished his phone from his pocket and dialed your captain’s number, pressing the loudspeaker button. It rang a few times before Ushijima finally picks up.

“Hello?”

“We found your stray” Sakusa answered before putting the phone in front.

“Ushijima-san!”

”(Y/n)? Goshiki? Where are you two?”

You both look at the two, but Komori answered for you. “We’re in front of the Kamakura coffee shop, where are you?”

“In front of the Marimo bookstore [1]”

“Alright stay there, we’ll be there in ten minutes”

“Alright”

The call ended and the four of you made your way towards the bookstore, Komori was the only talkative one between the two, instantly befriending the both of you. Although Sakusa would sometimes participate in the conversation, majority of it, he prefers to listen.

“So, what are you doing here in Tokyo?” Komori questioned.

“We had a practice match with a college team today” Goshiki answered, holding your hand to avoid getting separated from the group, his initial fear from when he discovered you two got left behind still present.

“Are teams in Miyagi too weak to handle Shiratorizawa?” Sakusa’s eyes momentarily shift in your direction before focusing forward.

“I guess so” you shrug your shoulders, you were told no high schools in Miyagi wants to have a joint practice with your school anymore, and you don’t really know the reason behind it. So you can’t really say they’re all weak.

Thankfully ten minutes later, you arrive at Marimo Bookstore to see your seniors waiting in front of the building in worry.

“(Y/n), Tsutomu. There you are!” Tendou was about to give you two a big hug, but Semi beat him to it by bonking the two of you on the head.

“You idiots! What did I say about wandering around?!”

“We weren’t wandering around! We were just inside the shop when Tendou-san and Kawanishi-san left us!” you replied with a pout, rubbing your head as Semi shot the two a glare as they both look away. Kawanishi casually whistling a tune whilst Tendou rocks himself back and forth on the soles of his feet.

“Well, we’ve delivered the package. We have to go now, see you guys next time” Komori wave your group goodbye as Reon and Semi said their thanks.

Sakusa gave Ushijima a nod before turning around. “See you at nationals Wakatoshi”

“Of course”

They both left, their tall figures disappearing into the crowd, as your group went back to your hotel. Upon arriving at your lodging, you stumbled along with Coach Saito and Washijou-sensei near the entrance, the two older men inquiring of your shopping spree. Everyone answered the question as honestly as they could, leaving out the details of yours and Goshiki’s little accident.

Satisfied, they both left while your group went back to your own room to enjoy the rest of your stay, and to avoid any more mishaps.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

[1] anyone here who also watches sekai-ichi hatsukoi?

a/n: the idea from the college convo between Mikana and reader was inspired from a conversation I had with a mutual hehehe, though not word per word but just the overall gist of it. Dear, if you’re reading this you know who you are. ;)

also, my team stories aren’t suppose to contain any romance, yet here I am lowkey shipping Goshiki and reader.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshot #shiratorizawa #ushijima wakatoshi #semi eita #tendo satori #yamagata hayato #ohira reon #shirabu kenjirou #kawanishi taichi #goshiki tsutomu #sakusa kiyoomi #komori motoya #shiratorizawa x reader #hq x you #hq x reader

[docholligay]

Da Capo Al Fine

This was sponsored by @phrdycg, who asked for Nana’s secret being revealed! I’m not 100% happy with it but I’m out of time to keep workshopping it, and maybe it’s jsut that I’ve looked at it too much. So I hope you enjoy! 

It was the same stage, over and over again. The same lines were said by the same girls, the same scenes moved through with the same comings and goings, and yet it was never quite the same play, was it? 

Such is the joy of the theater. It is a living thing. 

Every time, Junna struggled and lost, and rose to her feet again, and every time she quoted William Shakespeare anew, but sometimes the tie in her hair was different, and sometime she walked to the left rather than to the right, and sometimes Nana made muffins rather than cookies. You could say the same of every girl, leading to that same conclusion but with slight tweaks, the audience seeing a slightly different show, like tracings on paper--very nearly overlapping, but not quite. 

It was in this way that Nana told herself she had not doomed these girls to a life of boredom. The stage was always fresh, even when it was not. 

Besides, she was never bored, only safe and content, and wanted the same for them. Besides, they did not remember that they had creaked along these same floorboards before. Besides, she had won the revues fair and square. 

Besides. Besides. Besides. Rondo. Rondo. Rondo. 

It was her symphony, written note by note but fresh in each playing, her the composer keeping and marking time, listening to the voice tremolo of Kaoruko leaving for home, the forte of Maya’s commands, Claudine’s sharp sforzando as she cried out in the revues. It was her symphony and she never thought or dreamt of the coda. 

But still, a small guilt niggled at her. Nothing more annoying than a flickering bulb at the back of the house, but tiny and insistent enough to throw her. She was hiding the truth from them, that she was keeping them here, where the show was known, and safe, and everyone was happy. She was fighting them to protect them from that world, the one that would chew them up and spit them out friendless into the dirt. 

It was a kindness, yes. And the more she thought of it, as the revues went around and around in their endless completion, the more she realized that there was no cause for guilt here. She had done, was doing, the thing that was the kindest and best for all of them. Most of them wouldn’t even have thought of the solution she did, would they? 

They would thank her, if they knew. They wouldn’t fight at all, knowing the truth. It would be just another way that Banana had always taken care of them. 

Yes. This time, there would not only be the tweak of a line, a bit of improvisation, but a whole new scene, a whole new movement. It excited her, as she cooked away in the kitchen. 

Tonight. She would tell them tonight, as she once again laid out the buffet of potato dishes, freshly made from Mahiru’s family farm potatoes. They always loved this one, it was a favorite, and now she would get to tell them that they could all have this forever, over and over again. 

If she could have bought champagne, she would have. It seemed appropriate. 

The trouble, as they streamed in, telling her once again how good it smelled and how much they had been looking forward to all of this, was waiting. Even good news needs its perfect moment, for even the best actress requires a spotlight for the grand performance. 

“We can do this forever!” It slipped out, not as carefully chosen as she might have wanted, and there was a feeling, for a moment, as if she’s stepped on her own line. 

“Oh Nana,” Claudine gave a laugh, “even you can’t want to cook all this for us every night.” 

“No, not this,” she was full in the excitement of it now, the music a rushing crescendo in her mind, “I mean, yes we can do this again, because we can do all of this again! This whole year! Our great performance of Starlight! All of it can happen again and again, and we never need to worry about--” 

“I don’t get it,” Futaba’s mouth was full of potato, “What do you mean?”

They all looked at her expectantly, some more confused than others, and how could she expect them to know? If they had thought of it, they would have suggested it. 

“This is my stage!” 

A long silence permeated the room. Confusion. Concern. Disbelief. All wrapped up in that long tacet as Nana stood before the group, the group that was experiencing for the first time the potatoes she’d made them a dozen times before. 

“How can it be?” Maya spoke first. “It can’t be. The kitchen? The revues aren’t…” she trailed off, unable to make it work in her mind. 

Time was a confusing thing, and if Nana were to ever give herself the chance to grow up, she might discover that it continues to be a confusing thing even when you aren’t in a loop. Time has its own dance, and does not care to reveal the steps before taking the stage. 

“This year!” Nana pulled up a chair and sat across from all of them, excited, “Wasn’t this the most wonderful year? Didn’t we all become such good friends, and stay together? Didn’t we put on the most amazing Starlight? THIS is my stage!” 

“You won the revues.” Junna’s eyes were wide as she stared off out the window. “You won Top Star.” 

Nana nodded, a bright smile across her face. Of course Junna would think of it first, Junna is so smart and wonderful. 

Junna stood up, and pushed her glasses back onto her nose, then looked at Nana, staring. 

“Nana, what did you do?” 

Nana leaned back into her chair a little. Junna had not said it harshly, but there was the note of accusation in her voice, the sense that a step had gone just a bit wrong, the endless seconds of silence before a line is remembered. 

“This is my stage,” It was no longer the bold and joyous statement it had been, but instead a quiet sort of confession, “this is where I want to stand. WIth all of you.” 

Still more silence. No one knows the script from here, there is no one to call for a line, nothing but the wide open terrifying silence, as everyone casts about for understanding. 

Nana interrupts it. An improvisation. 

“This year is so good! We do such a good job with Starlight, and we all make friends, and...we can all keep doing it! As long as I keep winning, I can have us repeat this forever! Or!” she thought for a moment, “We can all wish for it, if you want to win, too!” 

“We’ve done this year before.” Junna looked over at Nana, saying it out loud as much for the group assembled as for herself, “You wished for us to do the same year again.” 

“Of course I did,” she said, unsure, “so we could be happy.” 

“How many times!?” Maya sprung to her feet. “How long?”

“I-I--twenty, maybe?”

Claudine recoiled. “Twenty years?” Her eyes grew wide, and she looked to the floor, mumbling something to herself in French as the color drained from her face. “Twenty?” 

“So we…” Futaba’s brows were furrowed, “We’ve just been doing the same--” 

Mahiru barely whispered it. “So long…” 

“Why?!” Maya walked up to Nana, pushing her back, “Why did you--” 

“But you all love this year!” Nana reached out her arms to them, “We all have such a wonderful time, and we learn so much about each other, and--” 

“You trapped us!” Maya did not even pause her fusillade, “You trapped us, with you, over and over again, and why?!” 

“You were happ--” 

“Was I!? Were we?!” Maya whirled around. “Are all of you happy enough to never leave here? To never do better than this? To be children forever, to never know the real thrill of the stage?” 

Junna shook her head. “Nana, I know you were trying to help--” 

“Was she?” Maya’s eyes narrowed and darkened, “Or was she only trying to help herself?” 

Nana balled her fists. “Of course not!” 

She blew past Maya, throwing herself on the kindness and mercy for the other girls, the girls who remembered they loved her, the girls who remembered they were happy.

“Hasn’t this been a wonderful year?” she looked at all of them, “Haven’t we become a family? Think of the people who left last year! They were our friends, and we’ll never see them again, but this way, we can always stay together, and we can always be happy and do Starlight! Can’t you see?” She heard the dramatic swell of strings in her heart as she tried to explain to all of them what she knew in her heart to be true, “I’m keeping us together. I’m saving us!” 

“No, Nana,” Junna said sadly, “you’re keeping us prisoner.” 

Theater is a living thing. No two performances are ever in the same. She had gone off script, and now it was coming back on her, the crowd not understanding that this was what the story needed. Not thinking that this was the happy ending. Nana looked at them and saw so much confusion and hurt, the inability to understand the gift she had given them all. 

“How dare you.” Claudine had found herself, and rose to her feet, growing as she prowled toward Nana, “How dare you decide our stage! Our lives!” 

“No!” Nana yelled back, “That’s not how it is!” 

But, just for a moment, she wasn’t sure she believe herself, the symphony that she had conducted so many times becoming more and more discordant as the girls, her girls, demanded answers, unable to accept the gift she had given them. 

Leaving Nana wondering if it was even a gift at all. 

No. This was a gift. They didn’t understand how lonely a human being could be, only Nana could understand it, and that was why she’d done it. Just because they didn’t understand that they were being protected did not make it a lie. 

She stood silent a moment, and then turned to go back to her room. This stage was a failure, but theater is a living thing, and she would take the stage again. She would ask the giraffe to wipe it all clean again, to take them all back to the original year. 

They were not like Nana. They did not understand that this was for the best. 

“Fine.” Nana’s eyes were downcast, her jaw in a firm line. “Hate me. Hate me for protecting you all.” 

She turned her back to them as she went back to her room, readying herself for the rest of the year, for their glowers and burning and fighting. It didn’t matter. Nana was the victor, because Nana was the one who wanted it worst of all, and she would triumph, and they would know peace, and they would never know her sacrifice. 

Someone caught her arm as she went to go. Maya. Angry, arrogant, beautiful Maya. 

“I will defeat you, in the revues.” 

She looked as if she believed it. More fool her. 

“No,” Nana’s eyes hardened, “no you won’t. You won’t even remember this conversation. You will love me. You’ll say how nice I am. You all will.”

And they would. 

Reset. Replay. Rondo.

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XLV: Saturnalia

Hunger. Nothing has ever satisfied. Every little thing, a morsel. To me, there were no such thing as meals. Just a bottomless pit of sharp, glass-like pain that I tried to quell through consumption, all to no avail.

To any outsider, I must have looked normal; neither thin nor fat, just wide enough frame of skin to cover my bones. But inside, I was on the constant verge of dying from starvation. Plate full of meat, vegetables, and potatoes, and it would be gone as if it had been the first taste of food in ages. Then, I would seek out more and more. But it all meant nothing. When there had been no food left, I would run out into the streets, find the nearest rat, a pigeon, something, and bite down.

That’s how it was in life, and how it continued to be, even after death.

“Defeat after defeat...why? They’re just simple humans?” I tried running the images of the previous battle through my mind. As I wore down each of their spirits. It should have been easy to take them all down at once. Instead, the opposite happened and they mustered enough strength to wear me down.

I shouldn’t have even worn down...it made no sense. My energy is supposed to be limitless. So how?

Wait. When was the last time I ate? I couldn’t remember. All of those moments just biding my time, waiting for them to break, expending so much power, and I...forgot. No wonder. Of course my condition would follow me into the afterlife. Where I needed a constant supply of food just to keep myself from wearing down. What a joke.

No. There were a few lives I took. Fed upon. It just wasn’t enough. It never was. No matter how many bodies piled up, my insides would always demand more. I should have taken more from that angel when I met them. Maybe then I wouldn’t have such an issue. After all, in essence, they were an all you can eat buffet. Unlimited supply of energy.

If only.

Such a being was long gone from my grasp, and their whereabouts were unknown. Even if I strained, I couldn’t sense them.

So I lay where I always would after the body I inhabited perished: within a damp, steamy cave, far off from the base of operations that my enemies took shelter in. Good for them. They could laugh it up, consume a small amount of food, and have a warm place to rest, all while they harbor a mass murderer. Not one of them deserved to exist. Not a single one.

Near me was a lava flow which illuminated part of the cavernous walls. I couldn’t see it, but its brightness was impossible to ignore. My original body was the place my consciousness always returned to after the bodies I used wore out. It was a terrible, blind, mangled mess. Intestines spilled out from my torso. Organs in shreds. An arm and a leg missing.

It would time some time before it would repair itself. Afterwards, I would only have a short window to feed and find someone else to inhabit, as my original body was in a constant state of tearing itself apart and repair.

To think at one point I at least had my constant hunger under control.

Details escape me, but I remember being incorrigible as a child, to the point where my family, disgusted at my appetite, threw me off into the streets. Had I found them again, I would have eaten them piece by piece for such a horrid move. But I never could.

Instead, I survived through reasons I never could understand. Nothing sustained me. It would reach a point of desperation where I would venture into a graveyard and dig up corpses, devouring them as well as the invertebrates who made those dried up husks their home. I didn’t taste anything from them. It didn’t disgust me, and why should it? The world had cursed me with an endless hunger and no sense of taste. To me, a corpse was just another source of meat. What was so different between that and a seared steak? The fact that one was cooked and the other wasn’t? Yes, I too had the same thoughts.

Once, I had burned down a village, waited until everyone’s screams had died out, then made my feast. It was a little tough to chew through but still...nothing. In the midst of it, between the flames which overtook each building, the smoky skies, and I, hunched over, gorging myself on a recently deceased’s arm, I heard the sound of footsteps approach.

Through my teeth and my wide mouth, I had chewed and swallowed chunk after chunk of flesh, but upon hearing just one sound which could have resembled human movement, my ears perked up and my eyes met a figure in a fancy, indigo suit.

“My, my. Looks like we have a wild beast that needs to be put down,” he crooned and waved his finger, to which I noticed that he wore white gloves. His eyes were squinted, with bushy dark brown hair which went down to his shoulders. It reminded me of my own golden brown hair.

I opened my mouth, extended it until my teeth showed. Almost as if to say that the mysterious man was next on the menu.

“Let me guess: you’re thinking that I’m fresh meat? Hmm?” He asked, almost sneering in his remark. He reached into the inside of his suit and pulled out a small, silver stick. I watched as he took both of his hands and stretched it out. Then it resembled a sword? Cane? No, more like a thin baton. As if he were a conductor, and not someone here to put me out of my misery.

Believe me, man. If you could, I wouldn’t hold it against you.

Maybe that’s what I thought at the time. Back when my existence was some kind of cosmic practical joke, one which I did not volunteer to be a part of.

As much as I wished to feast upon him, I hesitated. Something inexplicable compelled me to wait.

“Now, I love a man’s meat as much as the next guy. Just something I can fit into my mouth, you know? But my associates are of the belief that your existence would have a detrimental effect to the world at large. I myself don’t see it that way: to me, you’re just one mortal man who could easily be killed. So why should we bother with you?”

“Who are you? Are you with the army?” I grunted, bits of tissue and muscle floated around my mouth.

“Ha ha ha! I’m a lowly corporate slave to a company called The Fla – you know, forget about it. I should probably just report back and make my case that if anything, you serve to curb the human population. There’s no need to bother with you. You’re just a weak, pathetic, ravenous beast, in the shape of a human.”

This man...he just lives to insult me...he may as well join the rest of these corpses.

I lunged at him, but he stepped out of the way and hit me upside the head with his baton. It hurt much more than it should have, and to think it might have only been a light tap to him. It was as if my skull was a musical instrument, and upon the vibrations and pulsating pains, I imagined that my skull would split in two. But instead, I fell.

He planted the sole of one of his fancy black slippers onto the back of my head.

“Of course, you must be somewhat resilient to have committed the acts you have and still have a pulse. I imagine it took more than sneaking around the dead of night and doing the deed. You probably had to put up with a few arrows and stabbings, eh?”

It was true. There were a few times I had been caught and I was left with no choice but to run, take to the shadow of the night, and find a new town to hide out in. My skin was thicker than it had any right to be. Maybe the food I consumed did little for the stomach, but it added a bit of fleshy armor to my otherwise hollow frame.

“So I argued to my mates: hey, we could waste our time killing some anomalous lowlife, or we could put him to use. See, I’ve got this company I’m a little invested in, and we do a bit of clean ups here and there. Sometimes those clean ups involve making bigger messes. So I say, what if we had a quicker picker upper?” He mused.

“What are you talking about?” I groaned, strained under his heel.

“There’s bad people out there, then there’s good people. But we don’t care about either of those people. What we care about is those who threaten humanity at large, and those people can be bad, or good and just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way, they’ve got to go, yes?”

Perhaps a more noble question would have been: “who are you to decide such things?” Then, a less noble one would have been, “what’s in it for me?” Neither questions were of concern to me, however. As far as I was concerned, everyone had a reason as to why they shouldn’t exist. Just thinking of how spiteful the world could be, such ‘normal’ people who would throw me out into the street, refuse me their bread, and kick me about until I had to scavenge my way through trash. Still, if this man thought he could make me a guinea pig...he was mistaken.

“What would that change?” Was instead my question. It may have sounded like some combination of the former and the latter. Maybe even sounded just like the latter. But no, there was a huge difference: he could promise not to kill me in exchange for working for him. He could promise gold and wealth beyond imagination. Free meals in return for aiding what was most likely an evil empire. But what would that change about me? No matter what benefits were offered, I was still stuck in this body of mine.

“Change...change...yes, I suppose some change would do you good,” he muttered, as if working out a deal in his head. While his heel remained above me, he knelt down so that my eyes could meet his. I swear, I must have been been mere centimeters from his crotch. He reeked of lavender perfume. I watched as he, almost absentmindedly, reached into his pocket, then hold out a strange, flaky cube.

“Here. Eat this,” he offered, and removed his heel from my head as he stood back up. I picked myself up and snatched the cube from his hand, almost biting off his fingers in the process.

“Whoa, there. Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to bite the hand that feeds you?” He chuckled, but I paid no mind. Soon the cube was swallowed down, and its contents dissolved down my throat. I almost coughed and gagged upon the taste crawling its way back up my mouth: little flakes of garlic and sea salt.

Yet I was surprised to taste anything at all.

“Wh...What is that thing?” I coughed, reached both hands on my throat, and spat down on the ground.

“That, my friend, is a bouillon cube. Usually it’s for soups, but not this one,” his smile turned sinister and I felt a lump form in my stomach. It was like a large rock had been placed there, and held itself down. In other words, I felt full. Something I had never felt before.

“It’s got special properties within that allows it to expand and harden into a thick, clay-like tar. I invented it, myself. Now, you may feel normal, and hell, may even feel an ounce of regret for your actions.”

He chuckled a little, as if that too was a joke.

“Oh, but it only lasts for a short while. Then you’ll probably be back to your old ways. I’d say one cube a day should be enough, yes?”

“Yes!” I moaned, desperate. Then, the knowledge of the acts I had committed set in. Still, I had enough sense not to feel too much guilt; after all, I had been seen as beneath even the simplest of folk for so long, and in turn, I saw them all as beneath me. But I imagined how they must have lived, only needing a couple of meals a day, and that was that. Thanks to that cube, if only for a day, I could live that way too.

“So because you gave me that cube, I’m now forced to work for you?” I growled. To think, that must have been his plan. His bribery.

“Nonsense. I believe in choice above all else. Besides, as I said, in the grand scheme of things, I could just as easily ignore you and be on my way. But,” he reached into his pocket once more and fished out another bouillon cube, “I am the only one who has these. So if you wanted to taste how the other half lives for more than a day, you’d have to come to me.”

I must not have thought it through, as in my desperation, I dropped back to my knees, clasped my hands together, and begged.

“Please! I need more!”

“Yes! Yes! That’s what I love to hear from a man!” He gobbled up my words. He was just a thin man himself, yet he carried this air of largeness in both his voice and movements. “But I’m no used car salesman,” he added.

I tilted my head, confused. Car? Salesman? I imagine a car was some kind of material good, but of what...like a carriage?

“Oh. Right. We’re a few centuries off, aren’t we?” He tapped his foot and swung around his baton, “what I mean to say is, I’m an honest man. I’m going to tell you up front: there’s some downsides to normalcy. While I know you’ve got the stomach for it, once you have a sense of taste for the people you eat, you may not be able to stomach it. You may choke on your fellow man, throw them up. So I ask, what’s so good about being normal, anyway? If you ask me, it sounds like a drag.”

“Please! I’ll eat it all up! I’ll do whatever I have to!” I shook, I already felt his grip on me without him having to touch me.

“Hmm...hmm...yes. Perhaps if we have you go to the scene every other day. That way, the cube’s effects will have worn off, and you’re free to scoop up whoever we want, limb from limb. I imagine once those effects wear off, you’ll feel the endless starvation, a pain you wished you could have forgotten, but once you return to our base of operations, all I have to do is feed you a cube, and you’ll be as good as new. So really, what’s a momentary pain for a day’s worth of pleasure?”

“You’re just going to make me your dog, aren’t you?” I scowled at the fact that I was so willing to be used until he spelled it out for me. I still considered it, and I hated myself for it.

“Nothing wrong with a human pet, is there? For what it’s worth, I won’t put you on a leash. At least not a literal one. You’ll be free to run around your new home and interact with all the other mercenaries and misfits. But yes: I want you to remember who it is that owns you.”

He knew what he was doing. He was putting me in a bind, making me think that it was my own choice to join him. But at the same time that I was aware...I thought of all the benefits: he was going to put my talents to use. Let me live with other people who could accept me and see me as normal. At last, my life could finally mean something other than eating without end.

“I’ll join,” I accepted at last.

“Good, good!” He clapped and grinned, “now, come along, lest I consider putting a collar and leash on you after all.”

I nodded and got back to my feet, stumbling to keep up with his swift footsteps as we strode out onto the road away from the village.

“Tell me, does this little pup have a name?” He asked, not even turning to me.

“Theodore,” I answered, “Theodore Cruel.”

“Huh. Tad cruel, dont’cha think?” He quipped. I said nothing in response.

“Come on, boy, it was a joke. Laugh.”

“Ha…” I groaned, and tried to force a smile. My lips barely went up. Already he was taking to degrading me.

“I think I’ll call you Tarrare. You may not know him, but he’s a funny little Frenchman. Kind of similar to you, but a little more entertaining. He didn’t have tapeworm or anything, not that I think you do, either. He just couldn’t help himself,” he chortled.

“Is there anything I should call you? Or do you just want me to call you ‘Master’?” I groaned, already feeling a sick burning on my tongue. I couldn’t stand the thought of calling that man such a thing.

“Just call me Dr. Faust, though you won’t be seeing much of me, anyway. I’ll probably give some of these cubes to my associates so they can feed them to you. I’ve got my own work to worry about.”

“That’s it? You call me your dog, then drop me off and dissappear?”

“What’s wrong, puppy? You’ll be adopted into a loving home, trust me.”

“What’s with the Faust, thing, anyway? Isn’t the guy who sold his soul to the devil in exchange for knowledge?”

“Yes, in fact, he is. But don’t worry, I don’t make any deals with devils,” he crooned, “after all, why should the devil make deals with himself?”

True to his word, I seldom saw him. He’d pass by every now and then, wave hello, and hand me a cube, before warping back on his way. I didn’t understand the technology, but I soon would: this group, whatever they were called, had devices which allowed them to travel through time and various dimensions, all without worrying about consequence.

When the people who seemed in charge of the company I was in had a mission for me, it was always at times when I would go back to being starving. Feeling those aching pins and needles, those shards of glass that was hunger cut deep into me. It was only then that they would have a job for me.

“Exia Plode just got back from bombing another building. There were a few casualties. We’re gonna need you to eat those casualties. Oh, and be sure not to leave any witnesses. That’s the last thing we need,” one of them explained to me. They never gave their names and if they had any, I never learned them.

“Sheesh. If it’s not her causing property damage on our behalf, it’s Dinah Might. Just once I’d like a clean destruction,” another of them complained. I didn’t, and as much as I hated those men, they were the ones who provided me the means to feel normalcy, and without them, I wouldn’t have a purpose.

So I’d go down and sneak into a building just as it was soon to collapse and devour any and all that I could find. Once I warped back using the company’s device, the rewarded me with a bouillon cube.

It was simple work, as while I felt intense pain when the hunger would return, so too did the lack of taste. I’d be in and out and have my treat in no time at all. For the rest of that day until the end of the next day, I would feel normal again. I could eat a normal meal of peas, mashed potatoes, steak, whatever else I felt like having and be full.

Whenever I’d sit at the cafeteria, I’d find myself making conversation with a couple of guys: Brad Harraday (a stout man with long hair that seemed to go every which way) and Ron Aweigh, a nervous guy who had a bad habit of making excuses to leave a room.

I forgot which it was who started our friendship, but all I remembered was that one of them had turned to me one day as I ate alone and asked, “hey, haven’t seen you around before.”

I’d tell them, “I’m Tarrare,” a name I didn’t have to give, but felt obligated as I was in Dr. Faust’s debt.

“What kind of name is that?” He asked. “Doesn’t sound like any pun that I know of.”

“It’s not,” I eyed him, a grim expression on my face. “It’s just the name I was given.”

“All right, all right. I get it. So what do they have ya do around here?”

I couldn’t just tell them that I ate people, could I?

“I’m a food tester,” I explained, instead, “I eat...strange food.”

“Oh! Like one of those guys who suspects a king’s soup is poison, so you offer to sip it for the king? Let me guess: you’re immune to all poisons.”

I might. Or it might be that my very existence is a poison.

“Yeah. Let’s go with that,” I told him.

“Man, that sounds so cool!” He exclaimed and slammed his weight down onto the cushion of the seat next to me, “we’ve got to be friends. Right here, right now. There’s no telling when I might croak, so better now than never, right?”

“Sure…” I looked down and accepted. He seemed fine, but I couldn’t fathom such a thing. All my life I had only one thought: eat. Never did I consider that I could have such things like friendships or even a purpose in life.

No. Even if those higher ups saw me as nothing more than a thing to be used, less than a dog, but more of a toy to abuse, that didn’t matter. Because they gave me something that the rest of the world could never offer, and for that, they were my life.

Such simple joy as just being able to spend time with a crowd of folks with similar purposes as I, each of us making a difference in some way or another, through strange means. Sometimes, however, the presence of others, only proved to sicken me.

Like when a certain haggard man in his trench coat began playing away on a piano in the middle of the cafeteria. In one hand, a bottle of bourbon. The other, mashing keys in a haphazard fashion. It was grating. Then came his drunken off-key singing.

“Babe, you say, I smell of cat piss! Well, I say, that’s looooo-ve,” he sounded like he coughed up the last few words.

I pressed both palms against my ears as the shaggy bearded old man, who indeed, smelled of cat piss, began singing incoherent tunes, which to the best of my knowledge, he probably made up on the spot. Before he belted out another atrocity (seriously, who even gave the approval for a piano in the middle of a cafeteria?), I turned away, munching on my sandwich. My eyes spied a woman with short, teal hair in the distance, seated alone with a sandwich as well, topped with varying meats. Beside the plate was a glass of some orange liquid.

She dipped her finger into the glass, licked her finger, then shook in place. Whether it was the drink or the atmosphere, I couldn’t tell. Then, she rubbed her chin and pulled out a screwdriver from her pocket and licked it. I was so dumbfounded that I leaned my head back and stuck out my tongue in disgust. Yet my eyes remained fixed, and I watched her shift her head around in frantic motions, as if to make sure no one saw her.

From what it seemed, she didn’t notice me, and I wished that I hadn’t noticed her either.

“What’s up?” Burt asked. Another friend, or someone who sat near me, at the very least. Burt Bees, he was called. Lips as smooth as butter.

“I just...I just have to distract myself from the noise. It’s too much,” I groaned.

“Ha, yeah. Doug just came back from a mission and has been giddy ever since,” he explained.

“Why?” I groaned, and it was a desperate “why”, too. There should be no reason for such torture.

Burt shrugged.

“Probably just got laid or something. From what I hear, he went to some medieval brothel. Strictly professional, of course. Apparently the job called for someone to creep out a fair maiden.”

‘Strictly professional’. Right.

I shook my head. Thinking any more of his nonsense would leave me in distress, and I for one wouldn’t be one of his damsels. Once more, I caught the glimpse of someone in the distant, some tall woman with long, purple hair was seated upon a stool next to the counter of the cafeteria’s bar. She didn’t really seem to be drinking anything, but just eyed the room around her. She had a piercing gaze about her, something hateful that I wished I could stamp out. Right away, I knew she was trouble.

Then, it happened: her attention seemed focused on me, even if for just a second. I caught her dark eyes, burning their way into my own, and my heart skipped a beat. What was it? Suspicion of me? For what? Why? What had I done?

Are you looking to accuse me of something? How dare you? What right do you have?

“Her,” I lifted one hand off of my ear and pointed toward the purple haired woman, “who is she?”

“Wendy Day?” Burt looked behind him.

“Is that her name?” I sought confirmation.

“Yeah? Why? Want me to tell you about her? You into her? Eh? Eh?”

He tried to nudge me. I was ready to bite his arm off, and I still had that cube swimming around in me. No, there was just a seething hatred I felt, just by looking at her.

I shook my head instead, resisted the urge to snap at him. He didn’t deserve my anger.

“No. Just a name is enough.”

I’ll keep her name in the back of my mind. Burn the image into me. I just know she’ll be trouble down the road. I don’t think anyone should trust her. Not when she’s looking around like that.

It wasn’t like I kept a hitlist, but I just knew that if something were to go down, she’d be on the top of my list of suspects.

So it went. Some good times, some grating times. All in all, I wished it could last. It should have lasted. Why couldn’t it have? Why? Because someone had to take it all from me.

First, it began with my owner, the one who gave me a purpose, Dr. Faust, returning. It would be the last time I would see him again. He just passed through the halls and I happened to run into him. But giddy as I was, I had to ask:

“What are you doing back here?”

He smiled, a shimmer in his teeth.

“Ah, good doggy. You’re still bark and little bite, I hope?” He teased.

“No. I hardly see you. You should tell me why you’re here!” I demanded.

He laughed and wiped his eye.

“My other company made a little oopsie. It was either me or a colleague from another department. It could have also been a colleague from my own department. Either way, I don’t want to take responsibility. What matters is that one of us had the brilliant idea to use the power of an angel to make the world happier. It just so happens, that...type of thing can’t be controlled in a feasible manner. What more, someone who belongs to the company ingested a part of that happy little bug, and now she’s out of control back down on her own world. So, I’ve come to find someone to take care of it.”

I didn’t understand much of what he said, but I was excited at the prospect of a new job. Something more meaningful. Something with a wider impact.

“F-For me?” I begged.

He just laughed once more.

“Actually, if I sent you, chances are you’d just make things even more difficult. What would you do? Eat her? Then what? You’d be even more out of control. Bad idea all around. You need to stick to what you specialize in.”

He walked past me and I pouted, emitted a terrible trembling sound.

“No, it’s already been decided. We sent a couple of other people down. See, the target’s a real hothead, so I figured it would be amusing if I sent down someone cold. You know, opposites attract and all that. We’ve crunched the numbers and the two that were sent have a higher chance of succeeding in this particular mission than most. Of course, if they fail...which is very likely...at least that too should be amusing, no?”

Hotheaded? I too was boiling with anger. How much he must have looked down upon me. Wasn’t I good enough? I could do more than just eat, I just had to be given the chance.

Dr. Faust tossed me a cube, which I caught in my hands. With the presence of it, I was calmed within the instant. Even something like being thought of as lesser didn’t matter. So long as I felt human.

There were few in the cafeteria in that instance. Ron Aweigh, however, remained. He ran into the room and hid under a table, the same table in which I sat at.

“What are you doing, Ron?” I inquired. He trembled, all curled into a ball.

“They’re trying to get me to go on another mission. I said ‘piss off’, then took to a closet, but then they found me there, too.”

“I’ll keep you hidden, but I need you to help me with something,” I offered.

“What?”

“Do you know anything about angels?”

“Like little winged cherubs? God’s messengers? Spiritual shit like that?”

“Whatever it means. Apparently one of happiness is causing my master problems.”

“Your master?”

I waved my hand away.

“Never mind. I just need to know if you know anything.”

“Sorry...angel of happiness…No clue, bro.”

My disappointment was immeasurable, but not even a second later, a shining beacon of hope spoke next to us.

“No clue? None at all?” Chimed in the voice of a fast talking woman. I turned, she was all decked up in a cowboy hat and leather overalls, “come on, you two. You work here and you’re not aware?”

“Aware?”

“The weapons and equipment that most of us use comes from one,” she explained, “or, I imagine it’s only one. But which one...hard to say. As for how they managed, well...even harder.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Ron, what kind of assignments do you usually get?” She ignored me and asked the one under the table instead.

“W-well...they make up a fake assignment, then have me run away from them.”

She spat out.

“Gee, wish I got paid to run away from my employer.”

If that was my job, I wouldn’t get very far.

“What about you, Tarrare?” She asked, and I was struck by the fact that she knew such an alias.

“How do you know…?”

“Everyone does. They make up rumors about you. It’s common knowledge. Anyway, what do you do?”

“I...eat things.”

“Damn!” She snapped her fingers. “So you eat, and Ron over here runs away. And here I am shooting things with my slingshot.”

She pulled it out from her belt. It looked like any old slingshot.

“Name’s Kala Matee. This bad boy here, along with most everyone else’s weapons and equipment, is made from the parts of an angel. From what I hear, they just chop them all up, the parts turn into some kind of mineral, then they craft things with it.”

“So these angels...what are they?”

“Who knows? That’s just one thing we call them. I’ve heard things thrown around like cosmic entities, celestial beings, outer gods, and hell, just gods. That’s the kind of thing we’re dealing with here. Where they come from, we have no clue, but it’s said they exist between universes. Not within, but between.”

“So these...things, they can possess people?” I tried to wrap my head around it all.

“Possess is a bit of a strange word,” Kala scrunched up her face, “they don’t need to do that to influence people. They’re all based on some kind of aspect – happiness, sadness, anger, what have you. Goes without saying, but they can make people giddy to the point of self-destruction, anger to the point of harming others, and sad to the point where you cry, and you cry, but even after you’ve shriveled up and turned dry, you just can’t stop. Thing is, companies like The Flashbulb hear ‘make people happy’ and think, ‘gee, this is just what the world needs’. What’s worse is that since they exist between dimensions, they probably think of themselves as gods as well, when really, they’re just as mortal as the rest of us. They just have a few fancier toys.”

“We also exist between dimensions,” Ron pointed out.

Kala scratched her chin.

“Hmm...yeah. Why do you think that is?”

I shrugged.

“No, really, I’m asking, because I sure as hell don’t have an answer,” she added.

“Maybe it’s so that we can hide from enemies? No one could ever find us if we don’t exist in their universe, after all,” Ron suggested.

“That tracks. But I’m just thinking, what if instead of getting away from others, we set up shop here to be near something? Like, say, within their same domain.”

“You mean…?” I just about gasped out the words.

“I don’t mean anything. I’m just saying that it makes the most sense to me. After all, how did our employers make these weapons? How did they know that they could do such a thing? How did they come to learn about such beings, know something which seems unknowable by design? Furthermore, what kind of being, angel or whatever you wanna call it, did our weapons come from? The thought both excites me and frightens me to the point where I never want to know, but oh boy, does it make me wonder.”

“What for? Shouldn’t it be enough that you can use them?”

Kala shook her head.

“It’s the nature of the beast – if they came from an emotion-based being, then what’s stopping our weapons from corrupting us? A droopy spear that’s so sad that it makes you sad and drives you to the point of despair. A gun that’s so giddy to kill others that it makes you giddy along with it until you’ve forgotten everything else and are happy just to shoot something. So, then, what is it that makes us safe?”

“Nothing. People die in this job every day.”

“OK. Fine, Negative Nancy. But I mean, why do we trust our weapons to do what they’re intended for when we know where they come from? Sounds like a recipe for disaster, if you ask me.”

All sounds like a bunch of superstitious hogwash, if you ask me.

Kala must have read my thoughts from the incredulous look plastered on my face, for she leaned in, both hands under her chin, and asked, “I’m sure they’re something that needs to be seen to believe, the angels, not the weapons, and you can be told ‘your little boomstick’s made from fresh fairies’, and it wouldn’t mean shit unless you knew for damn sure that they existed. But, real or not, who’s to say there’s not one already nearby? In this very headquarters, even?”

If she wanted to freak me out, she did a terrible job at it. I wasn’t fazed in the slightest.

“Yeah. Who’s to say?” I mumbled.

By all accounts, I should have believed in their existence when Dr. Faust mentioned sending a couple of folks down to handle one. But I couldn’t help myself: it could have been a similar situation as someone declaring ‘we have to hunt down a witch!’ When usually the witch in question was just an innocent bystander made into a scapegoat.

Still, it made me wonder: if I were to meet this supposed angel of happiness, what kind of happiness would they grant to me? If they were such a corrupting force, it would have been the greatest irony as I knew right away my answer, and that was to feel like a normal human being. It was a novel idea, one that put a smile on my face, even if that smile soon faded upon facing the slight pangs of hunger.

No. This is too soon. I just swallowed a cube a little while ago.

Maybe a day or two had slipped past in the span of one conversation. Or maybe the cube had lost its effect altogether. I couldn’t say. All I knew was that it hurt so bad, and I was going hungry.

Before I could give in to any particular urges, I heard a buzz come from the phone that the company had issued me. On it, the time displayed was over two days past since when I saw Dr. Faust and when he told me about the mission. But...that couldn’t be. After I heard about it, I went to Ron and Kala Matey. There was no way I could have just lost track of time, not when my whole livelihood rested on knowing how long I had until the next hunger strike. So what was it? Did I just have a lapse in memory? Did I sleep for over two days and forget about it?

There were far too many questions and too few answers. I was suspended, stood out in the middle of the hallway, and there were little clocks spinning around my head and it wasn’t until a figurative hand smashed them that I saw the reason for the notification:

All Personnel Present Please Report to the Conference Room.

It was a message from the higher ups. It must have been something important. Whatever it was, I wished they could have just said so. Why did those blokes have to be so damn secretive for?

My stomach growled fierce noises as I carried my body through the halls and into the conference room. I just hoped it wasn’t a total waste of my time (unlike the time which I had already wasted, for reasons beyond my comprehension).

Inside of the conference room were crowds of my fellow coworkers, along with my few friends: Ron Away (weird, I’d have thought he’d hide out in the bathroom or something), Burt Bees, Brad Harraday, and even the recently acquainted, Kala Matey. I felt pale, ill, sick to my stomach, and just wished to be free from everyone.

What if this was a setup to get me to give in to my urges and feast upon everyone? Such thoughts ran through my mind as I tried to combat them with, no, no. I couldn’t.

“Hey, dude. You don’t look so good,” Kala turned to me and commented.

“I...I’m just a little hungry,” I replied, even as I winched and clutched at my stomach.

“Oh, yeah,” she laughed, “tell me about it. I just wanna chow down on some cabbages. Damn thing, I hope it doesn’t take too long.”

Through blurred vision, I looked around among the crowd. Some murmured among themselves, things like, “what if this whole thing is some kind of prank?” Or, “what do you think it could be about?”

As I looked around, I failed to notice that Wendy person anywhere. Her absence was suspicious as usual.

Then, my attention turned to the empty stage. That podium with no one behind it. After that –

A flash of light. Piercing shriek of a sound. No one could utter a word, not even scream. Heavy blasts swept through the air and the room around me soon turned to flame, before the walls too collapsed. I fell along with the rest of them and moments later, I laid on the floor, or what remained of a floor, along with the scattered remains of my colleagues.

“Uuuh...uhhh…” I tried to utter. Somehow, despite it all, I held on to faint glimmers of life. My heartbeats were irregular, and my consciousness weaved in and out of itself. I tried to move my hands, but I had no hands left to move. My breaths...weren’t even really breaths at all.

Even with my bloodied up face, my top half and bottom half split in two, organs scattered about, I was able to turn my head and I saw the sight of my friends in much the same manner. Even Kala, her cowboy hat gone, turned to ash, and her skull exposed. Eyes hanging out from their sockets. It wasn’t right.

My eyes, still intact, burned. Everything burned. That was the only feeling I had left. No more hunger, just a burning sensation.

Soon I will be next. It’s not right. I had a life of normalcy, I had friends. I had a purpose.

Even my eyes failed me, as soon the parts of former colleagues faded away and in its place was a darkness, without a floor, without a room. I wasn’t even sure if I could see myself anymore.

Please. Don’t let me be next.

I was sure that my pleas would go unheard. They were only in my thoughts, which wouldn’t exist for much longer. But before I left, I just had to try, desperate, I addressed the very thing I didn’t believe in:

Please. If there’s some kind of angel. Some kind of being. Whatever you are. Please. Let me live.

It wasn’t in an instant. There wasn’t so much as a sound, and instead it was a heavy weight pressed against me. At first I thought the heaviness was the sign of the throes of death, though I always imagined it being a lightness. Like a feather. But no, there was something heavy. Holding me.

There were many arms, legs, wires, vines, connected together like a giant hand, grasping me. My eyes weren’t even open, but I saw what was in front of me all the same: a giant, swirling mass, like snakes tied to each other’s tails, or a tree with endless branches. There was no mouth, only a feeling of unending pieces holding themselves up together.

“What are you?” I heard echo through my thoughts. I knew at once that they weren’t my own.

My own mouth was torn apart to shreds, or so I thought. Some way or another, I could speak.

“I’m human!” I cried out.

“Human? Interesting.”

“Yes! Don’t you know? Surely you’re all knowing!”

“Humans? I know of those things.”

“Please! Let me live!” I begged.

“But you are alive.”

“Not for long!”

“Why?”

“Why should you let me live or why not for long?”

“Why not for long?”

“Because someone must have planted explosives! I’m all torn apart!”

I expected an answer to my explanation, but instead all I got was, “how long is not long?”

“I don’t know! Please! Do something!”

“What is it like being human?”

“I don’t know!” I shouted, and the hunger reared its ugly head as I leaned down and gnawed upon the thing holding me together.

“What are you doing?” They asked.

“I’m hungry! I’m desperate! I have to live!” I protested.

“Interesting,” was all they had to say.

At once, I felt a swirling mass within me, like little worms. They connected my two halves together, repaired my mouth. My vision returned. I was released, or maybe I was never held at all. When my eyes opened back up, I was…

...Still within an endless darkness.

I walked about, but I saw nothing but myself.

“Who did this? Who took everyone from me? Took my life from me?” I had many questions, even as I should have been thankful for being granted new life.

“Rhea Flection,” the voice spoke. Although I saw no strange strength, I could feel the being’s presence still near me.

“Not Wendy Day?” I would have thought if anyone was the prime suspect, it would have been her.

“Not Wendy Day.”

No matter. I didn’t know anyone with such a name, but I was sure I would find a way to kill them in due time. I had to.

“So that’s who took my life. My purpose. My chance at humanity,” I grit my teeth. Smoke billowed from my mouth and it exuded hatred.

“But you are human,” the voice argued.

“You wouldn’t understand,” I shook my head. Even an all-knowing being didn’t understand.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re not human.”

“Then I think I will be.”

“What? You’re just going to make yourself human?” Such a notion seemed ridiculous. What kind of being would sacrifice such power?

“Yes. Bye now.”

With those last few words, its presence faded. I knew that somewhere out there, they still existed. Probably some middle-aged man with a house and kids, who works a simple job and doesn’t consider much beyond their every day life, but inside, they were my savior.

With the absence of the being, I was greeted once again to the mess of bodies, torn apart. It didn’t take me long to register that if I had consumed some of their power, then I must have had much the same abilities as them. In that sense, perhaps I had become something greater than human. Maybe I had become an angel, in my own right.

From then on, I learned just what I could do. How I could go to various points in time, alter states of the environment around me, create beasts, and tear out one of my ribs to shape into a weapon. Even through all that, I’ve still managed to fail at killing the ‘Rhea Flection’ the one that others knew as ‘Remora’, as well as failed at slaughtering every single person who dared to associate with her. It was such a disgrace that there were those who thought they could stand up from me, keep me from taking what was owed to me.

But so be it. I had time. Sooner or later, I would find a way. After all, I no longer had an end. I was a higher being than some mere human, like my old, pitiful self.

#remoras full #writing #stories #horror #villain #backstory #supernatural #action #hunger #cronch #tarrare #angels

[eggluttony]

there are multiple causes for Casino AU Eggman's weight gain but he gained the extra weight to get much bigger than his main counterpart rather quickly and it was mostly due to his eating habits. but hey, he's even more of a greedy glutton than main universe Eggman and needs a very big belly to fit all that food in it!

just like main universe Eggman, he always had a lot of wealth thanks to his family and a love for food that he always had plenty of, so he was already plump. but when his casinos really took off and started to become one of the biggest chains in the world, he became so much richer and began raking in thousands by the day.

as a result, he started spending a lot more money on supplies and huge business investments but also a whole lot more on food. he initially did it with the intentions of having a lot to last him a while but he'd end up clearing it out really fast. he loves always having so much of all of his favorite food and can't resist the luxury of always indulging to his heart's content.

it's even more common for him to lose track of how much he's eating than main universe Egg and he doesn't care. with more food available than ever before, he became used to always having more than three very big meals a day and tons of snacks and sweets. another reason is his need to constantly be doing something with his mouth. at least when he's chewing on edible things, it helps him not to smoke quite as often to fulfill that need

he also enjoys rewarding himself for hard work by having whole feasts to himself and tons of fattening desserts. his casinos also have buffet areas where the food is extremely high quality and so are the wide range of desserts to choose from. he likes to pay visits to them himself and eats and eats until he feels like he's about to burst. spending so many nights going to bed stuffed full quickly made him pile on the pounds.

how quickly it all happened is one of the reasons why a lot of his clothes don't fit him properly. he was oblivious for a while and even when he realized they were too small, he didn't bother changing them. as long as he can get them on without popping the buttons or tearing them then he keeps wearing them, even though he's often very close to that and it becomes even more likely the more he eats throughout the day.

when he got much bigger than before this all started, he didn't consider losing the weight. instead he thought the size of his belly was a good way to show off his wealth and success because it proves he has plenty to supply his needs and is kept very well fed as a result. and it certainly shows through that but it's already not hard to tell by the way he's constantly mindlessly eating snacks and candy throughout the day as if he has an endless supply!

#casino au #weight #stuffing #imagines #button popping/clothes ripping