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cellu-lightreading · 1 year ago

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Pure Greed

It was all a coincidence really. Jamie's friends took him on a vacation, and a few drunken afternoons produced a flurry of content of him shirtless on his socials. He was twerking on the beach and eating all kinds of food. As he watched it back, he was a little embarrassed. The internet isn't usually kind to guys like him with double chins that eclipse their necks and waistlines wider than adults are tall. When he checked his phone and saw that his phone was blowing up, he was nervous that trolls had come to attack him. That's not what he found.

Hundreds of likes materialized overnight with a comments section overflowing with support and love. Not exactly body positivity comments, more swarming sexual admirers. There were heart eyes and eggplants and peaches. They said they liked his soft gut and his giant dimpled ass. They were drooling over how much he could eat instead of criticizing all the junk he was stuffing in his mouth.

At breakfast, Jamie decided to share the phenomenon on his post. No one could quite explain how these legions managed to find him of all people, but one friend had one idea of why they were so obsessed with him.

"They're called feeders or encouragers." Brandon said "When they see a big fat guy not promising to lose weight, they're like moths to a flame. You filming yourself stuffing yourself is like porn to them."

"How do you know all of this?" Jamie asked.

"'Cause they swarm the comments of all my favorite fitness influencers going on a dirty bulk in the winter. They go rabid watching a dude's abs melt away for a few months and then get disappointed and disappear in the spring when it's time to cut. Actually, this is a pretty good opportunity for you if you play your cards right. These guys will literally throw money at you just for being fat. Now that they've slashed your hours at work, you can probably string these guys along to keep the bills paid."

"I don't know how I feel about selling my body."

"You're not exactly doing porn. You don't even really have to get naked. All you have to do is be fat and get fatter."

"Get fatter? I just clocked in at 375 the other week! I can't afford to get bigger!"

"Considering we're the ones paying for your stay this weekend, I'd argue that you can't afford not to get bigger."

A few days after getting home, Jamie decided to give making content a try. He wasn't really sure what to do so he started with something basic every influencer did nowadays: a get ready with me video. He started the video from bed, letting the people see him heave his body out from under the covers. He slept shirtless normally so that might be something. He showed himself buttoning up his uniform shirt around his large frame and hoisting his pants around his thighs. He got a little self-conscious thinking about the ways his clothes tended to get stuck around his folds and how tight they looked in places. He pushed the thought away and started on breakfast. Normally, he didn't eat all that much for breakfast, at least not compared to his other meals. He didn't really get that hungry in the morning, preferring to keep things simple with some toaster waffles and bacon. He thought half the box of waffles was pretty moderate considering how small they were; there were only ten in the box to begin with. After licking up the syrup, Jamie ended the video with a wave and a smile hoping he was enticing enough.

Jamie closed the app out and forgot about it. Work usually kept him very occupied, so there wasn't a lot of time to check his phone. It was only at the end of the day when he got a call from Brandon that he thought to open the app at all.

"I'm genuinely curious: you really call five waffles and half a pack of bacon a light breakfast?" he asked Jamie incredulously.

"Yeah? I'm usually not quite full after that."

"Oh it's no wonder they're reacting well to this."

"How well?"

"Like two thousand likes plus a never ending stream of comments."

"No way!"

"Yeah and this comments section...honestly is pretty obscene. I definitely feel like some of these would make you uncomfortable, but still no fatphobic trolls so that's a win. People are definitely fans of you. They think you are the sexiest thing ever."

"I still can't believe this is a thing."

"It is absolutely a thing and it is happening to you. Lots of people hoping you'll keep making content, and you're already getting people offering to pay for you to eat stuff. I honestly feel like you should show them what you normally eat before you do all that."

"But I'm hurting now. The cash would be good to have now. You have no idea what I can do with that kind of money."

"I think I’m starting to." He said to himself. Then he asked, "Aren't you the same guy who was nervous about putting yourself out on the internet?"

"I am, but $40 is $40. I go through a lot of money in food and things like that. It would be pretty neat if I really could get a little help around here."

"Well, how does this sound? Take the offer, go have a good time. Don't deny yourself anything for the next month. Every time you want something, have it. You don't have to push yourself, just show off your normal life- and get it on film."

Jamie accepted the challenge. He took pictures and videos of every time he ate. Within the first week, Brandon was shocked to find out just how much food went towards keeping Jamie as big as he was. When he said breakfast was light, he wasn't kidding. He was ingesting thousands of calories just from the vending machine while he worked at his desk. One night he ate an entire party-size lasagna by himself and then remarked that "he still had a little space left, maybe dessert would finally top him off." He went to his freezer, grabbed a pint of ice cream he filled with all sorts of treats and toppings and ate it until he was licking the container. The scariest part to Brandon was that most of his videos felt like a confessional; no one was supposed to know all the eating he does, especially not the people in his real life- i.e. Brandon. Jamie was increasingly comfortable admitting to his new internet friends all of his favorite treats and tricks. That's how Brandon found out people put crushed Doritos on pizzas.

By the time their little challenge was ending, Jamie was on camera complaining how his jeans were getting a little tight. When the two of them met up at a function for a mutual friend, the conversation quickly veered off toward their project.

"You know, I had a lot of fun following your advice in the last month. I don't know when was the last time I got to have so much fun guilt free."

"Really?" Brandon asked. He thought back to a video where Jamie went back to a restaurant after their friend group left to have a second round of food. "I'm glad you've got a new space to do that now."

"Yeah, and the fans are really getting into it. They've got all kinds of food suggestions and the money never stops pouring in. They've been really supportive.”

"Speaking of ‘supportive’, how to put this delicately, has it gotten any harder for some of the things around you to physically support you and your new hobby?"

"Is this your coded way of asking me if I gained weight?"

"Yeah, I'm trying not to be really rude about it in public."

"It's fine. But it has gotten a little harder to wear anything with buttons, nothing wants to close anymore. I've easily put on 15 pounds, maybe even a whole 20."

"20 pounds in a month is pretty fast."

"That's why I was so nervous to start this. My body is an expert at putting on weight."

"So I see. Do you think you'll cut back down to something a little more manageable or-"

"No, I don't think the fans will like that too tough. That's like the one thing that gets them really jumpy. Every time I bring up the word diet or cutting, the comments get flooded with messages about how beautiful I am at this size and begging me not to lose weight."

"And this doesn't concern you at all?"

"I mean at the end of the day, they are people on the internet and this is my body. I get the final say on decisions I make with my body. I can always just lose the weight, right?"

"But it doesn't bother you that people are begging you to get fatter?"

"Honestly, no." Jamie laughed. "Like it sounds weird, but I kind of enjoy it. I mean, look at me. With no extra effort on my part, I gained 20 pounds in a month. If I'm going to keep getting fatter, I might as well do it with people who appreciate me this way."

"If you say so. As long as you're okay with it."

"Yeah, it's fine. All this talking about the channel is making me hungry though and I know I smelled something good earlier. What do you say we check out the snack situation?"

Sooner than expected by all, Jamie was planning on celebrating his first gainer milestone- 400 pounds. Jamie was a little surprised at the number, but his reaction surprised himself more. For a while, the idea of reaching the 400s was enough to send him into a crash diet of nothing but carrots and celery for a couple of weeks until a strong craving hit him right when he was starving. His willpower would fall apart in dramatic style, and his weight would continue its upward trajectory. This time, Jamie accepted it. It was shocking to know he had reached it with so little effort on his part. He expected to reach the 400s in the holidays, not from an extra trip to the vending machine at work. In fact, he didn't feel that much bigger crossing over the line.

While Jamie might not be excited, his followers were very excited to get the news. They begged to see him step on the scale and watch the magic number appear and sent some extra money to celebrate the accomplishment.. When Jamie saw how big the donations were, he knew he had to try to do something special. He had exactly one idea, but it made him a little nervous.

"So to... celebrate 400 pounds, I thought I would treat you all to a little sneak peak behind the scenes of the real life behind the fat man. This stuff annoys me, but you all seem to love it so I think you'll have a fun time. These are 4 of my big fat problems."

Jamie started off by showing his followers the pile of clothes he couldn't bring himself to get rid of. Every article of clothing in the pile was something he had destroyed just from being too fat. Shirts with the buttons popped off, belts where the buckle had been torn off, pants where his thighs had worn down the fabric from rubbing together all the time while he was walking and waddling everywhere, and everything where a seam ripped in defeat from holding back too much fat. More embarrassing than how he knew he was never going to fit back in those sizes, was how he had destroyed those clothes so no one else would ever get to wear them either. Trying to get them fixed would mean admitting that he had done all that damage to these clothes. To complete the exercise, Jamie put on an outfit from the bottom of the pile that looked smaller than he last remembered. The sweatpants were once the pants when he was too bloated to fit his normal clothes until his thighs made a heart shaped hole around the crotch. Years later, he could hardly get them around his legs. The fabric still felt delicate around the inside of his thighs, thin enough that he could practically feel the skin on tthe other leg through his pants. When he made the mistake of reaching for a shirt on the ground, the pants ripped apart all the way up to his ass. Jamie decided that was enough.

Number 2 was in his dining room. Jamie had a set of chairs that used to be his favorites in the house. He keeps them hidden now because he had two of them collapse under his weight in one night in the middle of a party. He won't use any of them anymore to save himself the embarrassment of using a chair that doesn't match. It doesn't hurt that even if he wanted to sit in one now, the arms on the chair are so narrow that he wouldn't be able to fit his ass in between. Jamie knew his followers would want the painful proof, so he gently lowered his rear end into one. First came the pinch of the arms skewering his doughy flesh, but the more he tried to unload his body in the seat, the more the arms relented against his flesh until they snapped off. With the arms no longer in the way to help slow down the inevitable, all of Jamie’s body plopped in the chair. The chair immediately protested with a loud symphony of moans and creaks. Jamie thought he might be safe from the ultimate embarrassment. He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in the chair. Before Jamie could even process what was happening, the chair disintegrated into splinters underneath him.

Number 3 was deceptively simple: tying his shoes. It took so much effort to do every morning that Jamie actively dreaded the idea that they would get undone during the day. With a large gut permanently sitting in the middle of his body, reaching all the way around to his feet was a challenge. Every day he would try in vain to reach over his belly to tug on his shoes. Getting it done often required contorting his body into ridiculous shapes to bring his leg closer. When he was done, it often left him breathless and tired enough that he considered slides for the rest of his life.

The last segment of his video involved going jogging outside. In the early spring, the weather was a fairly mild temperature, but you wouldn't be able to tell from looking at Jamie. Jamie purposefully made it short- just one lap around his cul-de-sac. There was no delusion that he would go far when this would already be one of his longest runs in years. He recorded how his tits and ass and belly all bounced around with every footfall. By the time he was back at his house, Jamie was wheezing and panting. His shirt was wet all over and his face was drenched in sweat. Just a few yards had the ability to completely destroy him. With that, Jamie decided that he had enough.

Jamie posted and it was a runaway success. All around the clock, Jamie was getting comments online. They cheered him on and told him how beautiful they thought he was. They weren't afraid to tell him just how hot that video was to them. The more comments he read, the more assured he felt that he made the right decision. Why be ashamed of something that made everyone love him more? Maybe this was where he belonged all along. His followers tripled within two weeks. He promised his followers that he would eat whatever they paid for. Jamie tried to sweeten the pot for them too, "If you look back in the archive, you all can tell what kind of guy you're working with when I make promises like that. I eat all sorts of junk and stuff myself whenever I get a chance. I'm also probably not going to burn all of that exercising. If my last video didn't make it clear enough, cardio is not something that has a regular place in my life. So feel at ease, knowing your money is going to a very good cause." Jamie gave his stomach a couple of pats for the camera.

Suddenly, money started coming in like a water hose. Money was coming into his account, gift cards were getting sent to his email, and presents were showing up at his door. Jamie had full-on supporters now. They were all in, engaging with him whenever he wanted to be there. If he was considering being lazy or having a little extra dessert, someone was always there within seconds to tell him to do it. If he wasn't sure about finishing his meal, there was always a little encouragement waiting for him in his messages.

His new supporters also came with a bit more edge. They were more willing to speak their mind about the kinds of food he should be eating: fattier, more flavorful, more. They introduced him to shakes; they gave him new concoctions to try to actively help push a few more pounds onto his already very generous frame. It was a new step for him to take. All this time, he hadn't been trying to gain, the weight had found him from trying to have fun. This had all been an adventure in people enjoying who he already was. The last 25 pounds were already a big shock for him, what would happen if he really opened the floodgates and started actively gaining weight? What would people say?

Nothing he hadn't heard before, something deep inside told him. It was scary to admit, but people had been comfortable saying all kinds of crazy things to him about his size for a long time. 400 might have been a new threshold of big, but he'd been fat enough to draw the ire of folks for hundreds of pounds now. The stares, the jokes, the dire warnings of health concerns, and the snide remarks were already fixtures in his regular life. No one would care if he put on a little more weight, they had already written him off as fat. The only person's opinion that matters is his own...and he was having fun.

Jamie made a video taste testing some gainer shake recipes for the very first time. His mouth watered watching all these delicious ingredients get added to the blender. He chugged one after another before he came to the realization that each one of those glasses was the calorie equivalent of a full day's eating. "Maybe I overdid it," he admitted on camera. The comments assured him he was on the right path.

One evening a few months later, Jamie was meeting up with his friends to celebrate a birthday. He was trying to inhale the rest of the McDonald's he had picked up on the way in his car. When he heard a tap on his window, he was startled. Brandon was leering in. Jamie rolled down the window.

"Jamie, are you actually eating in the parking lot of a restaurant that you're about to enter?"

Jamie looked to the pile of food on the passenger seat and accepted lying was not an option. "Yes."

"Oh my God."

"Look, I know this isn't the best look, but I had to do something. My appetite has been growing a lot lately-"

"From the amount of stretching your stomach's been doing for the channel."

"-and I don't want to pig out at every meal that I have in public. I already eat more than everyone else, I don't need to keep adding fuel to the fire. You and I both know they really only tolerate all of this," Jamie jiggled his belly, "because we've been friends for such a long time."

"Yeah, but you've got to admit that this is getting out of hand. You've gained like a hundred pounds in the last year or so, and when you started this you were worried about how big you already were."

"But when I started this, I was also deeply insecure about the idea of even showing my body in public. Now I have people in my life who are genuinely excited about me doing the things I love the most and are happy to see me be me."

"I'm not sure this is you guiding you along. Feels a little more like the tail wagging the dog. "

"Brandon, you know my life better than anyone at this point. I want you to think back to my videos. Have you ever seen me this happy in my life?"

"No. I want to say I have, but I haven't."

"Exactly. Believe me when I tell you that I'm okay. I'm enjoying myself. I'm in control of the situation. I wouldn't still be doing this if I didn't like it."

"Okay, but I think you should know you're starting to get to the deep end of all this stuff. I'm not going to be able to help you so much as you keep growing."

Jamie didn't take that as a warning at the time. He was more than content to catch up on Brandon's life while he ate. He had dessert after dinner and a midnight snack. Jamie kept on, knocking back gainer shakes like it was water. The only thing that gave him pause came while he was on the watch out to hit 500. Jamie went to his manager after his desk chair broke in a second place in one month. It had been a bit of a fight to get them to give him a big and tall chair in the first place back when he was cresting 300 and breaking it was not going to lead to a pleasant conversation.

"Look, I understand that we live in a body positive society now and the company is really trying to work on being more inclusive, but this is too much. We can't keep doing this. It might be easier to swallow the fact that you are now too big for a big and tall chair if it wasn't clear to everyone that you're also spending more time eating in your work day than actually working. Every paper that crosses your desk leaves with crumbs and grease stains and your numbers are slipping to the point that you're now last in the division. It's time for you to go."

Suddenly, Jamie was back in a crisis all over again. This time, though, he already had a lifeline. Donations had reached a fever pitch in the past few weeks and it was only going to keep increasing. The only real problem was that Brandon wasn't going to be able to help him find a new avenue to expand his business. Jamie turned to his followers, telling them all of his woes with the hope a savior would emerge.

He got another warning in his direct messages from another gainer. "Be careful what you wish for. The bigger you get, the more you're going to find people who are serious about this. The dark end of this community will drag you in if you're not prepared to handle it. There are guys who will keep pitching in with a meal or two, and guys who will take over your life."

That was what we had in mind when he met with Tom. Tom was a slender man who wore a dark suit and a sly smile. Tom had watched his videos since the very beginning. The bigger he got, the more active he had become in the comments.

"It's such a pleasure to get to meet you in person. I wish it was under different circumstances."

'Well these don't have to be sad either.”

“I didn’t say they were sad; I only wish they were different. I think every man of your… stature should be excited by the prospect of leaving your job to spend the rest of your days eating and having a good time.”

“Well I don’t know if it’ll be the rest of my days.”

“I can’t imagine after this little experiment you’ll be begging to be back working a 9 to 5.”

“I can’t imagine I’ll enjoy being unemployed.”

“It’ll help when you stop thinking of yourself as unemployed and more as a full-time content creator.”

“Right…what's the catch?”

A few months later, Jamie was living in the lap of luxury. Tom hired someone to come around every day to take care of chores and get him whatever food he wanted. (Tom had also hired him to ensure that food was now always within arms reach and Jamie did as little physical labor as possible.He would get a bonus ever time he could sneak in appetite stimulant or weight gain shakes into his diet) Jamie spent the first couple weeks just testing his new helper on the lengths they would go for his every craving. He never found something he wanted that wouldn’t show up for him in multiple greasy bags ready to be devoured. Catering pans filled with burritos or lasagna would show up whenever he wanted.

Jamie was glad for the extra hands around the house because it meant he could devote all his time to his favorite hobbies. He could binge watch shows and play video games for days. The internet would graciously supply him with any kind of entertainment to keep his mind distracted while giant bags of chips disappeared into his maw.

The best part, Jamie thought, was having Tom around. All the nagging voices of his coworkers were replaced with Tom’s. He would come over when he got a break or after work, usually toting a bag filled with Jamie’s favorite treats. While Jamie shamelessly licked his fingers and the bag for every morsel, Tom would whisper into his ears how sexy he found him. He would tell Jamie how proud he was every time he found fresh fat and stretch marks while he caressed his body. Whenever Jamie got nervous and embarrassed about outgrowing clothes, Tom would celebrate and order in the finest meals he could find. Tom had transformed unemployment into being the best thing that ever happened to him.

Time slipped away and pounds piled on. The bubble of indulgence burst when Brandon paid Jamie a surprise visit. The helper opened the door slightly and Brandon barged in.

“Jamie, I think there’s something you should- dear Lord! What the hell?” Brandon took in the full extent of Jamie’s new level of obesity. He would check in on videos occasionally, but months had passed since he last saw him in person. “The camera really doesn’t do justice on how big you look.”

“That’s what Tim says too. He says I’ll waste away if I’m not careful.” Jamie let out a nervous chuckle that shook his bean bag sized belly.

“Brandon, do you know how much Tim is keeping from you? Do you even know how much you weigh?”

“Well I got fired around 500 and we just did a milestone video not too long ago, so I figure I should be in the early 600s.”

“That milestone video was for 700 and that was six months ago.”

“Well time sort of gets away from you when you don’t have to be at work five days a week. But I’m making the best out of the situation. I’ve got great TV and these delicious snacks that honestly taste like butter and sugar.”

“It probably is just lard and sugar,” Jamie said. “And this isn’t raising any red flags for you? Aren’t you worried about fitting through doors anymore?”

“Not since we widened them all. I had a few incidents where I got stuck.”

“A few?”

“Well the first time, I thought it was a freak accident, but then it kept happening and each time it was harder for me to get out. There was one time Tim was going to grease me up to get me out the door with some butter, but I had already eaten it all during a feeding session.”

“And again, you’re okay with all this? A man just emerges from the internet and you let him feed you off a cliff?”

“Honestly, it didn’t take as much convincing as you might think. Tim has this belief that just some people were born to be fat and that’s it. That being fat is our role to play in the world. And like I probably could’ve gone into the job market and fought for another boring job I don’t even like just to make ends meet, but my other option was to be perfectly fine doing exactly what I want to do. I enjoy eating and lounging around all day and the more I do it, the bigger I get, the more money I make to spend on food and fun stuff. Outgrowing clothes, furniture, my car- it’s all just a part of my life at this size. It’s been a part of my life for years now, decades almost. And the price to pay- the stuff that my doctors used to say to scare me- I’ve made my peace with it. I’ve spent too much trying to be scared by it already. One more cake isn’t going to make the difference.”

“Give up, he’s already made up his mind.” Tim said, emerging without warning. “This is who he is now. He’s settled completely into a life of being fed and pampered. Now all he wants in life is to keep growing for me and his subscribers. That strong-willed guy you used to know is gone. He’s accepted life as a fat boy. .’

The doorbell rang. The caretaker opened the door and in came a man in a polo with a gigantic grease stained brown paper bag. The smell of all kinds of food filled the house. Jamie looked at Brandon who was licking his lips. Brandon couldn’t contain his excitement. Brandon said, stunned, “This is really your life now. This is what fills your life with happiness. Do you even have any of your mobility left?”

“Of course I do. Look, I’ll go fetch my mid-afternoon snack from the kitchen myself.”

“Snack?”

Brandon rocked back and forth, trying to get some momentum. For a brief second, he made it off the chair. Then the momentum switched directions. The weight of a family of four slammed into the sofa. The wooden frame underneath let out a scream before the whole left side broke into pieces.

“Are you okay?” Tim yelled out.

“Let me help you back up.” Jamie stretched out his hands.

“No, I can get up by myself.” Brandon tried the trick again. He rocked back and forth and hauled himself up with a mighty groan. Breathlessly, he said, “I told you I could do it.”

Brandon waddled slowly towards the kitchen. Every thunderous step shook the house, rattling anything not nailed down. It was hypnotizing watching the dimpled folds of his body pillow-sized thighs brush past each other. His gut swung like a pendulum back and forth out of the bottom of his shirt. Every movement made his shirt slide further up his belly until it was blocked by his chest. The sound of his panting was hard to ignore as it grew louder. It didn’t seem like a long distance from the sofa to the kitchen counter, but when Brandon got there, it was like he had completed a marathon. Everyone was stunned by the sight, except for Brandon.

“All of this is for me, right?” Brandon said, catching his breath, “I’ve been hungry since I finished my second round of lunch an hour ago.” Brandon tore apart the bag and stuffed a fistful of seasoned fries into his mouth while he rifled through the containers.

#gainer story #gainer fiction #gay gainer #wg story #bhm #encourager #glorifying obesity #death feederism

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peachtarto · 9 months ago

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A Hundred Golden Urns - Part i

Pairing: Luke Castellan x unclaimed demigod (Alexandria)

Word count:

Summary: Luke takes it upon himself to mentor an unclaimed camper

Warnings: none I think, if you find any please do let me know!

Part 2 here! Part 3 here!

Camp was quiet in late summer.

Alex wasn’t sure what she had expected; lots of the campers had homes to go back to, lives to resume. She just hadn’t expected there to be so many empty beds.

Most of the cabins sat almost empty now, eerily quiet compared to the buzz of activity they’d held all summer. There were a few exceptions of course, she’d had them explained to her briefly by Clarisse; the Hermes and Ares cabins would stay pretty full every year. Nobody wanted volatile teenagers back, even for Christmas.

The only positive thing to take from the misery of the unwanted demigods was that she wouldn’t be alone in cabin 11. A handful of Hermes kids remained, and a more generous handful of the unclaimed. She was grateful for this, had she been the only unclaimed to remain, she would’ve been miserable. Or at least, more miserable than she already was.

The summer had been hard. Hot, sweaty, and hard.

‘It’s your first year! It’s normal!’ She’d been told by Annabeth at every opportunity. Which was more often than she would’ve liked. Something terrible seemed to happen everyday, and if it didn’t, she found herself lying awake at night just waiting for it to.

She’d tried her best to adapt to the strange new world she’d been thrust into, but it’s wasn’t without difficulty. Even then, sat quietly at the edge of the lake, she struggled to ease her mind. With almost all it’s beds still full, cabin 11 was never quiet; and so the lake has become somewhat of a respite from the constant chatter and clashing of swords. She’d come in the late afternoon and sit on the jetty until curfew, or until the sound of harpies got close enough to send her sprinting back into camp.

Her absence at dinner each day had been noted at first, but nobody ever came to retrieve her, and after weeks of the same thing had rolled by, nobody seemed to notice anymore. Or so she thought.

It had been noticed on the first day, and every day since by Luke. It concerned him, worried him even, but he’d tried to give her space all summer to work through it. He’d hoped that by the time camp emptied out for the autumn she’d come around. It wasn’t that she didn’t contribute, on the contrary, she did more than her fair share of chores and would happily take on more when asked. She’d turn up on time to every practice, every game, every bonfire; but she’d leave promptly when the fuss was over.

As a camp counsellor, he’d taken his concerns to Chiron. After two months of camp life, he’d expected her to come out of her shell. He’d wondered if perhaps it was because you were unclaimed. He knew how hard it was for kids to fit in when they felt they had nowhere to go. His cabin had been full to bursting for as long as he could remember, endless tears and nightmares and fights. She’d never uttered a word about feeling abandoned, she’d never fought with another cabin member; but he had heard her cry. In the early hours of the morning when everyone else was fast asleep, he’d hear her slip from her bed and out of the cabin doors, before sitting on the front step and weeping until the sun rose. Every time he’d heard it, he had thought about following her and asking what was wrong- but by the time he’d mustered up the courage, she’d be back in bed and looking for all the world as if it had never happened.

‘The pressures of a first summer cannot be underestimated,’ Chiron had said, ‘give her time, give her understanding.’

‘She needs to get out with the other campers! She needs to engage!’ Luke had retorted, somewhat heatedly. He could never keep his cool when it came to Chiron’s loosely worded advice.

‘You claim to know what Alex needs, but you haven’t seemed to grasp what it is she needs the most.’

‘Which is?’

‘A friend Luke, she could use a friend. This life is a lonely business without people to share in its hardships.’

A friend. Those were the words repeating in Luke’s head as he made his way down to the lake. They were the words in his head as he approached her, and the words that had him sitting at the edge of the jetty as well.

He didn’t miss the jump she gave, or the hand that flew to her chest.

‘Oh!’ She breathed heavily, and then with some relief, ‘Hey Luke.’

‘Hey yourself.’ He said, swinging his legs over the edge and into the water. ‘Mind if I join you?’

She glanced at him quickly, and gave him a small smile. ‘Of course not, I was going to head back soon but the lake is so pretty at this time of day.’

She turned back to the water and he followed her gaze. He couldn’t disagree, the lake was glistening under the heat of the late afternoon sun, all that could be heard was the rustle of trees on the shore and the lapping of water against the jetty.

‘It is pretty. Very. But so is the dinner pavilion, and it has food.’ He said, giving her a pointed look which elicited a small laugh from her.

‘True. But there are no Stoll brothers here tossing potatoes over my head.’

It was him laughing now. ‘They’re not so bad, a little food fight is good for moral. Keeps us on our toes.’

‘Tell that to the shirts I have to keep washing salad cream out of.’

‘It’s not always like that, I swear. They like to show off on the rare occasion you’re actually there.’ He let his shoulder nudge hers playfully. ‘Maybe come more often and they’ll stop.’

‘A charming thought.’ She laughed, and before he could reply she was hoisting herself to her feet and brushing invisible dirt from her thighs. She gathered up her jumper and shoes from the wooden planks, and with a quiet, ‘Enjoy your evening Luke.’ she was walking back towards camp.

He was left watching her go.

———————————————————————

By the time she could see someone at the end of the jetty it was too late to turn around, they’d already spotted her.

Luke was there, arm swinging above his head in a small wave. With a slight grit of her teeth, she gave a wave back and made her way down to the lake shore. As she got closer she could see the small basket on the ground beside him.

‘I thought I’d bring dinner to you,’ he grinned, ‘as you seem intent on avoiding table 11 for the foreseeable future.’

The smile she returned was a genuine one. It was hard not to smile back at Luke if he was flashing his pearly whites right at you. He had a way of dragging them out of people, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that he could probably get one out of a gorgon if he tried.

‘It’s pizza, and you’re in luck too, because nobody’s spat on it yet.’

‘Not even you?’

‘Not even me. I’m saving all mine for Clarisse’s pudding. And look, the cup trick still works down here, so you can have as much iced tea as you like.’

She cocked her head at him, a little smile playing at the corner of her lips, ‘how did you know I’d want iced tea?’

He gave a small shrug. ‘I’m a camp counsellor, it’s my job to know everyone’s favourite beverage.’

‘I see. An important job you’ve got there.’

Luke plopped himself down on the jetty and gestured at the spot beside him, a small request for her to follow suit. ‘Very important. And mine is Cherry Coke, if you were curious.’

She glanced down at the two glasses of what was most definitely iced tea, and reached out for one as she sat down. She quirked her eyebrow, ‘and so you’re drinking iced tea because?’

He picked up his glass and clinked it against hers. ‘Because I thought I’d try it and see why you like it so much. Though I’ve got to say, there is a disturbing lack of carbonation happening here.’

He took a rather large swig and pulled a face that made her laugh. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, and was tempted to do it again. Just to see if she’d laugh some more.

‘Yeah, hm, well..’ he mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, pretending to be conflicted about his opinion before settling on ‘I was right, that’s pretty horrid.’ Within seconds the contents of his glass shifted from amber to a fizzing brown.

At least he’d tried.

They ate dinner in silence after that. At first he’d wanted to talk, and fill the space between them with jokes or stories from the day’s training exercises; but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. On the contrary, he enjoyed just sitting quietly, listening to the sounds of the lake.

He watched Alex pick at her pizza, noting the bits of tomato that were flung into the water for the birds. She noted that he watched, and tried to ignore the heat of his gaze on her face. She puzzled over why he had come here, to her spot, as she nibbled on her crusts. No doubt Chiron had sent him to keep her company. She’d known she couldn’t avoid being a part of camp forever, but she had been hoping she could hold out a little longer. Long enough to be claimed at least; long enough to know where and how she fit into all of it. He’d told her that the godly parents would often claim their children after impressive feats, or acts of great kindness and care- but she couldn’t find it in her to do either. She’d secretly hoped that she’d be claimed in the dead of night, with no fuss, and no one around to gawk. That idea was looking further and further away with each day that passed.

‘Well,’ she said, clearing her throat and setting down the remainders of her last slice, ‘thank you for dinner Luke, have a good eve-‘

His hand was around her wrist before she could push herself up from the jetty. She tried to tug it out of his grasp but he held firm. She glared up at him, and for the first time he saw something like anger shift across her face.

His eyes went a little wide at that. ‘Sorry,’ he said, and loosened his grip enough for his hand slip from her wrist and rest stop her own. He knew he should say something else, but suddenly his words were buried deep in his throat.

‘I should go back to the cabin,’ she insisted, pulling her hand from his and trying to get to her feet. ‘I have chores to do before bed.’

‘No you don’t.’ He tugged her back down. ‘I did yours earlier.’

‘Why would-‘

‘So we could have some time to talk, without you sneaking off somewhere.’

She eyed him carefully. She’d yet to be told off by a counsellor. Mr D had given her a nudge here and there, but it had little effect from a fully grown man in a Hawaiian shirt- especially when he chewed out a camper at any chance he got. She played back her day, her week, trying to figure out what she was in trouble for.

Luke must’ve seen the confusion on her face because he quickly added, ‘not a telling off, don’t worry. Just a chat camper to camper. Don’t think of me as a counsellor for a moment.’

‘If this is about dinner’s, I’ll come to them. You don’t have to bribe me with a picnic.’

She could’ve sworn hurt flashed across his face at her words, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

‘I wasn’t bribing you. I just-‘ he sighed, crossing his legs to he was facing her fully. She grudgingly did the same. ‘I just wanted to talk to you about camp, about how you’re finding it.’

When she didn’t reply, he carried on.

‘I know it can be hard to be flung into this life, I see it every year. This place, this world, it’s crazy. And I know a thing or two about being unclaimed-‘

She gave him a small smile. ‘If you’re about to give me the ‘you have a place here’ speech don’t bother, Chiron beat you to it weeks ago.’

‘Yeah yeah, I know he did. But just hear me out will you?’

She gestured for him to go on, then rested her hands in her lap.

‘It’s my job to help unclaimed campers. Like it or not, you’re part of cabin 11. And who knows? Maybe you’ll actually enjoy it one day. But until then, let me help you find the things you do enjoy here. Summer is over, winter will be miserable if you don’t have things to keep you occupied.’

She opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off. ‘Chores don’t count, even though the cabin has been sparkling since you arrived. And though I appreciate it, it’s be nice to see you in the sparring ring now and again.’

‘I’m not good at sparring. Ask Clarisse.’

‘Sweet Clarisse doesn’t think anyone is good at sparring, don’t take it personally.’

‘I don’t, I just have no intention of getting back into the ring with her anytime soon. I had bruises for a month after last time.’

‘So don’t,’ he said with a smile, ‘get in the ring with me.’

Luke waited for her to say no, to laugh in his face and walk away again. But she just looked down at hands, picking at the loose threads of her jeans. He could see the soft glow of a blush creeping across her cheeks and suddenly he was afraid he’d said something terribly wrong.

‘I just mean, I think-‘

‘I’m not good at this stuff Luke.’ She said quietly before he could finish. ‘I’m not like you guys.’

She looked up, meeting his eyes. He’d never managed to hold eye contact with her long enough to actually look at her, to take in the finely made features of her face or the smattering of freckles over her nose; but looking at her then was making his chest tighten. ‘An Aphrodite kid for sure.’ Connor had said the day she’d arrived, and Luke hadn’t been sure. He was reconsidering his opinion now she was staring right at him. He hadn’t even noticed she was still talking.

‘- I don’t want pity from you or anyone Luke. I can figure this out on my own. I’m not asking for help.’

The sound of his name brought him back to the conversation.

‘I know you’re not. But I’m offering anyway, and I want you to accept it.’ He stood up, gathering the basket together as he did. They weren’t supposed to take dinner away from the pavilion as they couldn’t burn their offerings, and he was sure he’d get into trouble when he returned.

Once he had it tucked safely under one arm, he extended the other to her, helping her to stand beside him. He half expected her to swat it away, but she just muttered a small ‘thanks’ as she hauled herself up.

‘You and me, first thing tomorrow in the ring. We’ll take it slow.’

‘Is that a question from a fellow camper, or a counsellor?’ She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. He was grateful she was showing some sort of emotion, even if it was resistance to his suggestion.

‘Whatever will get you there tomorrow. Don’t be late.’ He winked, and immediately regretted it. Her scowl could have rivalled the ones Annabeth used to give him. She leaned forward, and for a moment he thought she was going to right hook him for his cheek; but she pulled the dinner basket from his arms and tucked it beneath her own.

‘For doing my chores earlier.’

And with that, she walked away. Leaving him to watch her go, again.

Part one done! I hope you like it! Sorry it’s not a y/n story, I find it so hard to write those! I always find it easier to give everyone a name! I haven’t written in ages (if you remember my maze runner imagines no you don’t!) so it’s kinda rusty!

#luke castellan #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fic #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy series #percy and annabeth #percy pjo #pjo series #grover underwood #annabeth chase #annabeth percy jackson #imagine #fic rec #fic #charlie bushnell

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imfeelingbad · 9 months ago

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(As a ukrainian) I lost all hope in humanity forever ago and I'm pretty sure I won't change someone's opinion, but I just want to tell the truth that i cry about every time.

I didn't see my home for 2 years. When I was there all I heard was explosions, bombs and warplanes. I saw ruined houses. I saw my half-destroyed school near which a projectile fell. I saw fire, smoke, a lot of it. I was in there. I heard all this. I heard. I saw. with my own eyes and ears. And what did you see and heard in the west, saying "This is all just Ukrainian propaganda"?

I was in the metro and saw hundreds of my fellow citizens, that a few months ago were casually going in this metro to their jobs, schools, universities etc. Some were sitting on the floor, some on old crusty carpets, with no fresh air, no normal ability just to go pee, not even talking about washing. But they were there just to be safe. Just to not die. They didn't care about hygiene, warm food and bath, delicious drink in their favorite café, all they did care about was just surviving.

Then I heard about Bucha massacre (read about this, if you think "russian soldiers are just poor people who don't want war and against Putin!!"). I heard hundreds women, children, men being raped, killed, tortured and firstly I was shocked. Then I heard about Irpin, Mariupol', Izium, Bahmut, now Avdiivka and many other ukrainian cities, that were completely destroyed by russians. But the difference is now I'm not shocked or surprised. Because now I understand this is Russian world, Russian culture, whole Russia in general.

But no one cares. No one cares about genocide, if the victim is big country in the center of Europe (even though every country has many people of color, and the biggest country in the world terrorizes it).

I saw a girl in the tiktok that was telling about the film "20 days in Mariupol". I looked in the comments and started crying. Why am I, my family, my friends, all ukrainians supposed to suffer while some westerns and russians are just laughing and saying "slava russia"?

Many people were talking about Gaza and I agree, there is total hell in Gaza and I feel very sorry for Palestinian people. I know how it is. But what gives YOU, a person that is sitting in the safe place with all basical human needs and think a war is just some trend, the right to compare the DEATHS of people that DIED from GENOCIDE and say that one GENOCIDE is less bad than another.

I'm not saying that we are suffering more than Palestinians, I'm saying that it's just so cruel to normalize deaths of people.. any people. That DON'T HURT anybody. That just want to live in a free country.

If I say, boycott Israel, all people from Israel are terrorists, people will agree with me. But when I say Russia is the terrorist, people will say "No, you're just xenophobic!"... And the genocide of my people is NOT xenophobic?? And the hundreds of years of destruction of Ukrainian culture is not xenophobic??

"What about Gaza?"

Gaza needs help. Ukraine needs help. Congo needs help. Syria needs help. No one should suffer. THAT'S my point.

Did you hear something about Holodomor in Ukraine? About MILLIONS of Ukrainians that died because soviet government were taking LITERALLY EVERY FUCKING BREAD CRUMB?? around 3.9 million ukrainians died. And this is only according to official data. These are only people whose identities have been established. It does not take into account people who were missing, or who were just horribly maimed.

If you still think I'm an ukrainian propagandist and not some fucking random teen like you who's just sharing my thoughts, read about Holodomor in Kazakhstan, first Russian-Chechen war, SECOND Russian-Chechen war, Russian-Georgian war, Russia’s invasion of Syria, Illegal occupation of Crimea and Donbas or just anything that involves Russia and war crimes.

If you're still saying this is all propaganda, Photoshop, I'm not surprised. Of course, everything around is propaganda. But not your beautiful truthful swamp.

Sometimes I just wish I was in yours shoes. Not caring about anything.

I don't care what russia supporting bots will say, I don't care people will not believe me, I just want to feel alive again.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russian_war_crimes

#war #genocide of ukrainians #russia is a terrorist state #ukraine #україна #palestine #free palestine #free ukraine #genocide #first post #last post #russia #ruzzia #israel #ussr

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emmalouisefanfiction · 3 months ago

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Sub Rosa

[The url is not hidden anymore.]

Summary:

A ministry approved marriage was the last thing Hermione wanted. And the last thing the Wizarding World needed.

And her fiancé agreed.

While the Wizarding World descends into marriage law madness, Hermione Granger faces a different foe.

Rated:

Teen And Up Audiences

Tags:

Arranged Marriage, Marriage Contract, Marriage Law, Secret Marriage, Established Relationship, Politics, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter), Bad Lucius Malfoy, Supportive Narcissa Black Malfoy, Light Angst with a Happy Ending

Notes:

My contribution to the tumblr 2024 dramione month.

Prompt: Contract marriage.

* Also 'Marriage of Convenience'

I've taken liberty with the exact wording of the prompt, though.

Hope you enjoy. :3

“The ministry is happy to announce the Marriage Contract Law has been a smashing success!”

Hermione Granger had never felt true fear before today.

It was a ludicrous thought considering all she’d been through. Plenty of things had scared her before. The nerves that accompanied her first day at Hogwarts as a wide-eyed eleven year old, despite her outward bravado. The many times she worried Harry had bitten off more than he could chew when facing Voldemort and his many supporters. Being tortured with the Cruciatus Curse over and over again, unsure if she would come out the other end with her mind intact. And this stupid marriage law, written in metaphorical blood, that targeted single wizards and witches, like it was a penalty to not already be married.

But there was one thing that scared her more than any of that.

“Every eligible citizen has finished filling out their forms detailing likes, dislikes, and other important factors that make up a successful marriage.”

The Daily Prophet had not stopped being a mouthpiece for the more conservative members of the Wizengamot.

Liars.

Hermione had filled out no forms. The wizarding world thought she was single but no forms had been owled to her and nobody had come to her home demanding she fill them out and return them in a timely manner. Yet her name had joined the hundreds of wizards and witches registered with the Wizengamot, to find their match. The very public records which now stated who her match would be.

She had been afraid before, but nothing compared to the pure adrenalin of terror currently coursing through her veins. Which was how she found herself now, in a rush, racing to pack everything she’d need for an extended vacation out of Wizarding Britain. Hermione had already started haphazardly throwing her clothes out of the closet like a madwoman.

Gone was the normally studious and meticulous woman who had changed more barbaric laws in the past six years than the entire Wizengamot in the last century. In her place was a harried, desperate, version of the woman who was on the fast track to be the next Minister for Magic.

It will be okay , she’d tried to tell herself. She’d been through so much. She would get through this. Tell that to the Wizengamot and Daily Prophet , the voice inside her retorted. That voice that came out in panic. She had been listening to it too often since this law passed. This wasn’t like her.

I need to stop this.

Long, drawn out minutes of her rushing through her belongings passed before she remembered she was a witch and withdrew her wand to start sorting out the rest. There was no telling how long she would be gone, so she packed everything she thought essential. The old Hermione Granger would be fine with a tent and a few muggle items. The Granger who’d gone on the run with two teenage boys had overpacked but that had been mostly books and anything else she had that was even remotely connected to dark arts and the horcruxes they were after.

But now? Now she had no clue what to pack. But they were getting packed anyway. She still remembered how to cast an undetectable extension charm. Laws be damned.

“Couples have been paired together based on both magical and emotional compatibility.”

For some people, maybe. But her own pairing was based on the views of old family vengeance. They couldn’t force Harry, who’d married Ginny the previous year, or Ron who had surprised everyone six months after the Battle of Hogwarts by eloping with the woman who’d tried to give up the Boy Who Lived to Voldemort. Pansy had been a shock to even Ron’s own family. But both couples worked. They were amazing together. Any ninny could see that. Still, that left Hermione as the odd one out in the eyes of the Wizarding World. The one that people wondered about and pointed at behind their hands. Whispering. Speculating. And scrambling to predict who she would fall in love with.

The public was a mess about her alleged non-existent love life. Some made predictions and gushed over every guy she even spoke with, wondering if this was “the one”. Others still wondered if there were even any wizards left that would want her.

Idiots.

This was why her relationship with Draco Malfoy had been secret for so long. At least that’s what she thought, until a few hours ago. Someone had discovered them. And that someone had been the driving force between trying to get her matched with someone else before she could run off with his son.

Lucius Malfoy.

“All couples have been vetted by the Wizengamot and our ministry leaders. They are all amazing matches!”

Draco still officially lived at the Manor but often spent nights in the flat they unofficially shared.

Hermione waved her wand at his closet and a week’s worth of suits and ties exited, levitating their way to the second suitcase on their bed, folding themselves neatly inside. She would have to thank Mrs Weasley for that spell later.

And for looking after Crookshanks for me, during this.

Several other groups of items began magically piling themselves into smaller bags as Hermione cast the feather-light charm on them. She glanced up at her clock on the wall.

Draco is late.

He was supposed to be home half an hour ago. Draco had insisted on talking to his father. On convincing him to back down. If he failed, they were going to run away. Elope. Away from the world. It would be very Slytherin of them, but still within the written word of the law. However, he was now late .

Hermione paused her wand movements, realising she had enough things packed, and peered into the two suitcases, sighing. Extension charms were really a life saver. She swallowed heavily, licking her lips and glancing at the clock again. She reached into her robes, still dressed in her ministry uniform, and fingered the fake galleon within. She’d insisted on this to communicate, when he’d decided to run off half-cocked. Very Gryffindor of him, as she’d said, hoping it would stop him. She was a bad influence on him, it seemed. The fake galleon was warm under her fingers, which meant he was still alive. But he wasn’t returning her questions of “where are you?” and “are you okay?”.

Something was going on. But he’d made her promise to wait for him.

“Every couple will be married at the ministry within the month but are free to plan a larger, more ornate wedding later.”

She forced herself to calm down, trying not to hiccup with frustration. She sat down on the edge of the bed she shared with Draco and focused on her breathing. The last thing she needed now was to have a full blown panic attack.

Draco will be here soon.

He had to be. She couldn’t go on an extended vacation without him. No, she’d break down every ward in Malfoy Manor to rescue him. And ask his forgiveness later. That’s what old Hermione Granger would do. She smiled, thinking of all the things she could do to those wards. Draco had taught her a thing or two about them. Just in case , he’d said.

Hermione had a vial of his blood to get under the “must be a Malfoy” parts of the wards, and weeks of practice in Malfoy invented counter-curses under her belt. She was confident. She was ready for that potential outcome. In case Draco’s father went crazy and tried to kidnap him.

She wouldn’t put it past Lucius Malfoy to do just that. Staring at the clock as the seconds ticked by, Hermione remembered the last time she’d seen the older Malfoy. A week ago, he’d sneered at her, despite the cameras flashing in both their faces. He was opposing a piece of legislation that had her name all over it. He had support with older wizards but the general public had always been her friend. Not to mention Kingsley Shacklebolt, who’d been the one to warn her that someone in the ministry was trying to rig her match in this new marriage law. He couldn’t do anything about it, not knowing who it was. Hermione knew it was Lucius. Now, mere hours after an exclusive interview he’d done with Rita Skeeter had made it to the Prophet.

An interview where he’d not so subtly hinted to knowing about her and Draco. Comments about keeping his family safe, mixed in with how he always seemed to butt heads with “the Golden Trio” when trying to save the sanctity of pureblood traditions. Marriage was brought up and he’d assured Rita that he and his son were agreed on who the next Lady Malfoy would be.

Draco hadn’t received a form about this marriage law either.

Hermione stood abruptly as the clock chimed. Now he was an hour late.

No, no, no.

She was going to lose Draco. Fuck. If she didn’t hurry up. If he didn’t hurry up. That was her true fear. The thing that scared her more than a revived Voldemort or Umbridge terrorising Hogwarts.

“And the match you’ve all been waiting to hear about: Hermione Granger will soon wed Rafe Rockwood. We’ve been assured the match was met well by both.”

Cousin to known Death Eater Augustus Rockwood, she added in her head angrily. Half-blood who was as despicable as his pureblood relatives, according to Draco. And someone who had been known, in certain circles, to tie women to his bed against their will. With both magic and non-magic means. Someone that Lucius Malfoy had pulled some strings to get her name next to.

Hermione waved her wand angrily at the Daily Prophet that was sitting innocently on her vanity. It burst into flames.

“I don’t think so,” she snarled. “Time’s up.”

She shrunk the suitcases and travelling bags down to fit in the pockets of her robes and took one last look at her bedroom. “I’ll be back,” she said to nobody. “Someday.”

“We believe these couples will usher in a new era of peace and strength for the magical community at large.”

There was no way Rockwood was getting his hands on her. Nor was Astoria Greengrass ever getting her grubby hands on Draco. “Never.”

Hermione closed her eyes and focused on her destination, determination and deliberation. Picturing the wrought iron gates of Malfoy Manor, she turned and disapparated on the spot. Anxiety returned to her the moment her feet hit the ground once more. Eyes open now, she couldn’t help but shudder as the gates towered over her.

You can do this, Hermione.

She whipped out her wand and got to work dismantling the wards. The vial of blood hovered before her as she focused and repeated her spellwork a half a dozen times before she felt the magic take hold. It was blood magic, this. And the blood had to have been given willingly. The Malfoy secret that the ministry would never know about. Even Voldemort didn’t know. He’d broken the wards down through sheer force of will and power.

Hermione was powerful, but she did not have the decades of experience in dark magic this would normally take. Trembling, she almost missed the moment the first magical lock clicked open.

One down, nine to go.

She knew the owners of the estate would detect her before she could finish. But this at least would get their attention. She was using spells only the family knew, after all. It took them longer than expected, however, and she wondered why. Straining against the wards, Hermione unlocked number four just as she sensed movement nearby.

“Lower your wand, miss Granger.”

It was Narcissa. She appeared behind the gates, dressed finely and peering at Hermione like she was a bug under a microscope. Hermione had met her since she started dating Draco. Her impression of her wasn’t bad, per se. But it was hardly overtly positive.

“Go home,” she said. “He’s waiting for you.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Narcissa, her wand poised, mid-incantation.

The older woman raised a delicate eyebrow. “Your little incursion provided the distraction I needed to get Draco out from under his wand, but it won’t work for long. He’ll be here soon and neither of us will enjoy what he’ll do.”

A heavy weight of panic set in Hermione’s stomach. Had Lucius tortured Draco?

“You both need to go,” Narcissa said, now with more urgency. “Before he realises what I’ve done and tracks you down.” She grabbed a hold of the wrought iron gates with both hands, the expression of concern and impatience on her face giving Hermione pause. “Go, miss Granger, or all of this will be for nothing.”

Hermione lowered her wand shakily. Warily. She held her breath but nothing happened. There was no second person ready to jump her and Narcissa made no move to show her wand. She nodded stiffly and disapparated again.

The apartment she shared with Draco came into dizzying view and Hermione let out a yelp of surprise. “Draco!”

“Hermione.”

Not “Granger” like he still insisted on calling her. “Hermione” was reserved for the bedroom or when he was annoyed with her. She frowned. But before she could question him, the man she loved strode towards her, trying to hide the limp in his walk, and opened his arms to embrace her.

It felt so dramatic but that was the moment the floo activated and an alarm sounded. It was the same alarm they’d set up to block his father. It was specialised for him and no-one else. He wouldn’t be able to get through, but it was motivation enough for Hermione to pull away from Draco, assure him she had all they needed, before he started to apparate them out of the apartment.

There was no time to ruminate on what they were doing.

They were going to elope. They were going to leave the country.

And as Draco pulled her into his side and the world disappeared around them, Hermione forgot about everything and everyone else.

Even the irate, booming voice calling for their blood but unable to stop them.

They were finally free.

#dramione #dramione month #dhrmonth #2024: Day 8 - Contract Marriage #2024: Week 2 - Romance Tropes #mine

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incorrecttowerofgodquotes · 2 years ago

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How Season 3 Upped Tower of God’s Queer Undertones; or why Khun is definitely gay

KhunBam shipping is wide spread in the fandom. The amount of shipping ramped up due to the release of the anime, but it’s always been a long standing and popular ship, even compared to half-canon Bam pairings like Endorsi, Yuri, and Ehwa.

First off, is the direct connection of Bam and Khun’s relationship to Roen and Daniel’s, and Dowon and Cha’s, both canonically romantic ships. And looking at the three relationships, there’s a common theme of one side losing the other.

Daniel lost Roen due to White, and spent the next 600 hundred years searching for ways to bring her back. Cha lost Dowon when she was sealed away inside the wall, and Cha went on a rampage against Jahad’s forces before being sealed himself. Meanwhile, both Khun and Bam have experienced the same loss.

After believing Bam died on the Floor of Tests, Khun sought revenge for 7 whole years despite only knowing Bam for a few months. And when Khun enters a coma, Bam is so enraged that he immediately cuts off and threatens Rachel, who he had previously been decently cordial to. Bam also ends up changing his appearance in a way that is reminiscent of Khun’s.

During Season 3, a lot of focus is placed Khun’s relationship with Bam. Multiple characters call him out for being overprotective of him, and Khun’s very first words when waking up from his two-year coma were “Where am I? Where’s Bam?”

During the Wall of Peaceful of Coexistence, Khun and Bam end up exchanging some dialogue that could be taken as flirting when facing down a Ranker. (Which Rak directly calls out at flirting in the original Korean text)

Khun even winks to Bam in a playful manner, which wouldn’t mean much of anything if it was Endorsi or Yuri, but considering’s Khun’s personality, it’s pretty weird that he did so.

There’s also the very infamous hug scene between the two. Of course, since I’m not a straight man, I don’t have complete authority over whether this is a normal hug or not. (If anything I think men should be more intimate and open with each other than society says they should.) However the panel composition focuses on Khun tenderly patting his head while Bam somewhat snuggles into his chest. The scene feels very intimate, like the two are separated in their own world. It’s only after we get the scene break with White looking on (and licking his lips) that the viewer remembers that the two are in the middle of what was just a battlefield seconds ago.

However, this is where we’ll have to get to the darker parts of this relationship. Strictly speaking, Khun’s over dependence on Bam.

We got hints of this in Season 2, specifically in the conversation between Khun and Evan on the Hell Train. Khun states that Bam is his reason for continuing on. This connects to his talk with Rak in Season 1 where he stated that the reason why he’s going up the tower is in order to find his purpose, which he then receives from Bam’s reliance on him to help Rachel go up the tower.

Khun strikes me as a codependent person even though he tries to hide it. Bam is so important to him that he’ll intentionally put himself in harms way or follow Bam’s orders even if he doesn’t agree. While this was okay in the first two seasons, Khun’s obsession has started to taint the relationship. He directly helped White gain his power back without talking to Bam about it and lied about Arkraptor and Prince’s fates in order to keep Bam moving (but then again we don’t know what Wangnan said to him so he might have just gotten the wrong info.)

These actions seem to stem from Khun’s anxieties that Bam will eventually leave him one day. He even states he feels guilty leaving Bam alone for the two years he was in a coma despite the fact that the entire situation wasn’t his fault. While Khun shared some of these thoughts with Bam on the Hell Train, he hasn’t actually talked about it with Bam, leading to buildup of these feelings on inadequacy. It’s only a matter of time before he eventually fucks up majorly.

In a way, Khun and Bam’s relationship sorta mirrors Yasratcha and Wangwang’s. Both Wangwang and Bam have a special power and the ability to stand against the abusive powers that reign over them. Meanwhile Khun and Yasratcha just want to live a normal life with their loved one and will do anything to keep it that way.

Hopefully Khun will receive a wake up call before things get too bad, and he and Bam can have a proper conversation about each other’s wants and needs.

As of right now, Season 3 has ended with the two separated and dealing with different, but also similar, issues. Bam is being forced to marry a woman without either of their consent by Traumerei, who seeks to add him to his collection. Khun is being kept as a pet “cat” by Bellerir because of his looks, with specific mention of selling him out to rich men and women.

There’s a clear link between Bam and Khun’s situations, explicitly in a way that takes away their autonomy for a “romantic” purpose. I expect the two’s storylines to follow a similar path before eventually converging. And if SIU does want to make KhunBam canon, then the end of that arc would be the perfect place to do it (or even just have them realize their feelings I’m not asking for much.)

Also separate thing but Season 3’s overarching theme seems to be about abused groups fighting back against their oppressors, which is pretty gay.

Now for the non-KhunBam gay:

Yasratcha’s entire story is about the ultimate destruction of his relationship with Wangwang, leaving him bitter and spiteful due to his crush’s death but also attempting to protect his son’s. Yasratcha and Wangwang’s meeting as regulars is an alternate version of the “turn the corner and bump into your soulmate” that’s utilized (and parodied) in so many anime. Yasratcha enjoys his time with Wangwang so much that he makes his entire purpose to be with him. (And he says it in a very romantically charged way)

When Wangwang encounters Nennen, Yasratcha comments that Wangwang’s heart was stolen and that he was jealous of her ability to do so. He strikes up a somewhat antagonistic relationship with Nennen, continuously needling her and being weirdly interested in their sex life.

This eventually culminates in Yasratcha’s “betrayal” all so Wangwang can break free from his master and become reliant on Yasratcha again. When Wangwang is begging for Yasratcha to kill him, Yasratcha can’t bring himself to. Finally he enters a suicidal battle against the rest of the canine people hoping to eradicate them while also hoping to die himself, because he feels like he can’t live on without Wangwang.

White is another queer-coded character with his obsession of “corrupting” Bam and his daddy issues.

Finally there’s Traumerei. Even though we don’t know much, due to the large jacket, his comments on love, and “relationship” with Wangwang, we can assume he had a close relationship either V or Jahad. He may be an intentional foil to Yasratcha, losing his “friend” because of their interest in a woman.

Also even though it isn’t Season 3 content, Wangnan and Shibisu carry heavy bisexual energy with their casual flirting with Nia and Khun respectively.

TLDR: Tower of God is plagued with queer-coded twinks who have trouble forming healthy relationships and get too easily obsessed with talented men. They also all have abandonment issues

#I don’t know if KhunBam will be canon #but I do know Khun has a crush on Bam #and that’s all I really need #tower of god #tog

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foster-the-world · 2 months ago

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Fun!

Oh Mary play was fun. Bizarre fun. Not sure it was my favorite but def some clever moments. My husband was a big fan.

A few years back I mentored one young mother through a very small nonprofit that helps former foster youth. Its basically two middle aged ladies who helped out a group of 8-10 former foster youth. They act as the informal support most people would receive from their family + recruit mentors. Anyway, they reached out today because one of the people in their current group has a ten year old whose struggling in school. Apparently her's in a not great school in the Bronx. Asked if I had any resources since we aren't that far. Neither of the group leaders have school aged kids. Wanted to know if a charter school would help him. So hard to know. If he's just having trouble because the schools not great then most charter schools will provide extra hours support to get him caught up. If he has a learning disability then most charter schools are going to counsel him out. They don't want kids who are going to bring down their test scores :( So depressing.

I tried to provide the DOE process of getting special need services but that takes months to even get an assessment spot. Compared to 99.9% of places there are a shit ton of resources. You can get literally hundred of thousands of dollars of services provided by the city. I know so many people who get over $200,000 of services per year free of charge from the city. Top notch/can't be better services. But its a fulltime job to figure it out and you've got to be first in line or its not happening. Or you need the cash to pay for assessments, etc that prove your kid needs these services. I have some friends that work in charter schools so if she's in the right neighborhood I can see if they still have room. I provided info on an organization that helps. But its all going to take so much time. For example today I've spent at least 2.5 hours researching, talking to other parents and texting with his providers. Its not an abnormal day. I'm not currently trying to chase down any new services. It just what is normal. I mean a little extra as its only the second week of school but still. I'm lucky I can do it at work/lunchtime. Anyway its all depressing. I don't know a solution. I'm thankful services are there but there has to be a better way.

I'm touring a school geared for ADHD kids next week. It would be for Kindergarten next year. Looks good for him. My only fear is they don't accept kids with behavior issues. He's a four year old boy with ADHD of course he has behavior issues. Why else would we be there? I assume they mean aggression? Going to find out. I read they require the kids to be medicated. I'm assuming that's for older kids. I can't imagine its a requirement for 5 year old. The APA doesn't even recommend until 6 unless there are extreme issues. We are unfortunately in the extreme issues territory hence looking for a school for kids with ADHD. I'm surprised private schools can make that requirement but I guess private schools can do whatever the hell they want. Seems fishy considering I'm sure every kid there has sued the city to have them foot the bill.

Baby boys doctor wants us to try Flovant to stop the asthma. Its the normal protocol. Not excited that some people have behavioral issues as a side effect. Not what my kid needs more of. Of course, as his doctor pointed out kids behavior gets much worse when they are feeling bad because of an asthma outbreak. Also, nervous because we are thinking of trying ADHD meds next month. I don't want to mix new things. Also, don't want to wait on the Flovant because Oct/Nov are his problem asthma months.

Feeling stronger about trying the ADHD meds. Every medical provider I've talked to has encouraged us to try. I know some people would take that as doctor's wanting a quick fix. I don't agree. I think they've seen it work from other kids and don't want our kids to suffer unnecessarily. Our ADHD parent coach- whose a big wig that's done a ton of published research on ADHD was very supportive of the idea.

Baby boy has also been using some language that is so sad. "My body feels wild. I can't stop it." "I'm mean to my friends. I don't know why." "I'm bad." He's only four. We don't use "bad" language. I don't want him thinking these things about himself. He has a really hard time controlling his body but he has the sweetest little heart.

Parent Teacher night for the girls. Excited to hear from Bee's teachers - as they are both new to the school. Bee had Rebel's teacher last year so that's not new.

The very kind teacher at the school who produces a morning announcement video created by/with the kids every morning announced she was pregnant today. I happened to be in the office. The kids were so excited. Very sweet.

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spicywhenspeaking · 1 year ago

Text

If I'm There: Chapter Eleven

Read from part one

Summary: Noah and Natalie met in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.....

this story will sometimes contain mature content, minors DNI

warnings: underaged drinking (don't do that!), mentions of alcohol abuse

taglist : @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @blackveilomens @thisbicc @thebadchic

“You're going to freak!” Noah says excitedly into the phone and I startle a little at the sudden mood shift. “Oh, what is it?” I ask. “Get this Natty. A band dropped out of the west coast leg of these guys' tour- Jasmine Feuds- and their manager asked us to join them.” what? “It's two weeks, eight shows along the east coast. Isn’t that amazing?” Noah’s voice is filled with a childlike glee, like this is the treasure he's been digging for all his life. “Oh, wow.” I fall back onto my bed, into the pillows.

The scrambling emotions in my head are all over the place, two weeks on the road seems like a lot but I guess I should just try and be supportive. “That sounds amazing Noah but, what about school?”

He lets out an unconcerned laugh “school is whatever, I’ll just make up the work when I get back but I don't really care because this is a huge for Iron Vendetta.” I pause. “Iron Vendetta?” I question.

He laughs again. “Yeah, we had to come up with something fast so they could put it on the flier.” It’s been a long weekend and I don’t quite know how to process this on top of everything else. I guess it’s really not that complicated…my mom just almost died from alcohol poisoning and now my boyfriend is telling me he's leaving for two weeks to go be a rockstar.

“You already said yes?” I finally ask in a small voice. We’ve only been dating for 5½ months but I figured he’d talk to me at least before committing to something like that. Wouldn’t a boyfriend do that? Not that I have anything to compare it to. I'm lost in my own thoughts and didn’t realize Noah had started talking. “-it’ll be insane Natty. Such a great opportunity, Kevin, the manager, said we’ll be playing in front of hundreds of people! Isn't that amazing?!”

The excitement in his voice is palpable but I can’t help but feel a sick heavy dread settling in my stomach. “Yeah, that sounds great Noah. Umm..I should really get started on some of my homework. When will you leave?” I ask. “End of the week..so I’ll need about every single second of your free time until then.” Despite the sadness I feel with the news of him leaving a small smile crosses my face at his words. “I want to get my fill of Natty time before being without you for two whole weeks.”

After ending the call I work on my homework and prepare for the coming week. Monday comes and goes, Dad takes Mom to the treatment center and we go about seemingly normal. I spend a few nights at Noah's this week since he’s leaving soon but I tell my dad I’m with Maggie to keep him from freaking out. Kyle probably knows but doesn't say anything, which is a surprising change. I do have to push Noah out of bed those mornings so I can make it to school on time, he’s cute in the mornings. Friday morning we’re lazily cuddling and kissing, avoiding my alarm so we can steal more minutes together before he leaves tonight. I have work after school and he comes by on his way out of town. I take my fifteen-minute break making out with him outside of his car.

Nick was sitting in the passenger seat trying to busy himself with anything else. “I'm going to miss you so much Natty.” Noah says in between kisses. “I’m going to miss you too,” I respond hugging him close to me and resting my head against his chest as his arms pull tighter around me holding me closer. “I hope y'all have a good time, and I want to hear all about it when you get back.” My break is almost over so I’m leaning into his open window, “Good luck, and text me when you get to the first city okay?” I ask him and Nick. “yes ma’am” Nick responds playfully. As they drive away and I head back into work I try to shake off the feeling of loss. He’s coming back. Two weeks will go by fast.

The first few days of the tour go well, I hear from Noah and Nick sporadically, with short texts and five-second phone calls before bed. On Thursday night I’m studying for a test after school and my phone lights up with his contact photo. It's him drinking a coffee I made him at work.

I answer excitedly “Hey Noah! I’m so glad you called! I’ve missed you so much!” There's loud music in the background “One sec-hicup-ond Natty, imtryna get outside,” Noah slurs and my heart falls. I haven't heard from him in a couple days and he's calling me drunk. What the hell. I can hear shuffling on the line and the music is slowly fading. “Okay babyy, I’m finally outside. I miss you, i cantwait to see you-hic- next Friday.” I hear the crunching of leaves under his heavy footsteps. “God, I miss how good you smell.” He huffs out as the footsteps stop and I’m guessing he finds a seat. “Noah? Are you okay? Are you drunk?” I ask. He laughs and hiccups like a child that's been caught with a cookie after bedtime. “Imnoth at drunk Nattty. Just had some driniks after teh show.”

His words all blend togher and It sends me back to conversations with my own mother. When I would ask her for help with my homework and she would slump over the table, her wine breath wafting over and infecting the air I was breathing. “Um Noah, maybe we should talk tomorrow when you're feeling more like yourself,” I say to him swallowing the pain in my throat. “Noo baby, plea-burp-se I need to hear your voice, I miss you so-hup-much.” My Mom used to drink and cry to my brother and I about how much she missed our Dad. “I’m sorry Noah, I can’t talk to you right now.” The freshness of my Mom's overdose still weighs heavy on me. “I love you so much Natty, you know that? You’re the prettiest girl ever.” I hear him yawn and hope Nick is somewhere close and sober. “Okay, I love you too, call me tomorrow okay?” He sighs and takes a deep breath “okay baby, I will callyou tomoro.” I click the end-call button and send a quick text to Nick.

Natalie: are you with Noah? He just called me very drunk :/… 10:34pm

Nick: Yeah, sorry Nat. He had one to many after the show. I got him. 10:50pm

The next morning Noah doesn't call and I try not to think about it but I definitely feel frustration starting to build. Noah keeps promising to call and text but then never does or forgets and leaves me on read. I try to just focus on the school day and around lunch when I'm sitting with Maggie in the art room he finally texts me.

Noah: Hey Natty. I’m so sorry about last night. 11:36am

Noah: I shouldnt have had that much to drink last night. 11:36am

Noah: can I call you when you get out for the day? 11:36am

Natalie: It’s okay noah. 11:45am

Natalie: I have work right after school 11:45am

Natalie: I can call you when I get off, it’ll be around 9pm. 11:47am

Noah: we go on at 8:45 tonight…can I call you after? 11:48am

Natalie: um…sure. I’ll try to stay up. 12:00pm

Noah: okay! Love you baby 12:01pm

Natalie: love u 2. 12:05pm

“So he finally texted back huh?” Maggie sneers slightly. She’s almost more upset about how he has been acting than me. “Yeah, he wants to call me tonight but I don’t know how late it will be,” I explain to her. “So what? You’re just going to sit around your phone all night waiting for him to call.” I understand she's just trying to be a supportive friend but I’m really trying to be positive about this whole thing. I knew he’d be busy on this tour and I’m trying to be the cool understanding girlfriend. “I’m not going to just wait around, if he calls me before I fall asleep then we will talk, or we’ll talk later. I knew this would be a busy trip for him.” I attempt to defend the situation even though I also find myself frustrated. She drops it after noticing me growing more upset. The rest of the day goes by and Maggie drives the two of us to work after school.

Friday nights have been super busy lately since the owner started having live music. Tonight playing is a singer/songwriter from Austin named Naomi King, she's so cool and her music is soft and emotional. She grabs a tea after her session and we talk a little. “So what's life like in this little town?” she asks. “Austin isn't huge but the music, the nightlife, and the atmosphere makes it seem bigger. I can’t wait to go home soon. This was my last little stop on my way home.” she tells me, sipping her peppermint tea. “Oh wow, that sounds amazing. I’ve always wanted to get somewhere bigger than this place. It feels so small, shallow.” I reply. “I want to see what the world has to offer.”

I end up staying later to help finish cleaning duties and once I get home and shower I don’t have the energy to stay awake to wait for Noah's call.

In the morning I see I have an eight-minute long voicemail from Noah left at 2:34am. I press play and there's loud music playing in the background. He’s not saying anything so I’m confused, it’s not until I hear another muffled voice talking that I realize he pocket-dialed me.

“So do you think ya’ll join us in the next leg thats coming up?” a female voice asks.

rustle rustle “uh I’m not sure” Noah says but I hear what I think is Julius says “Hell yeah, we wouldnt miss that shit!”

“Come on Noah, I miss you to much if you didn’t come.” the girls voice says again.

As much as I wanted to stop listening I feel the seed of jealousy taking root. Who is this girl? Why didn't he mention there was another girl on tour? Is that important? I feel like he should have at least said something.

“I dont know…maybe.” Noah says.

“Maybe? Fuck this” I mumble to myself and exit the voicemail.

I text Maggie what happened, I know she already has a bit of a bad taste in her mouth from what I’ve already confided to her. But, I needed to talk to someone and Kyle and I aren’t there yet.

Maggie: WHAT THE FUCK?! 8:36am

Maggie: WHAT GIRL??? HOLD ON! 8:36am

Maggie: Im looking on instagram rn! 8:36am

I dont have instagram, I had a facebook for a couple of weeks but it was boring and my grandma kept sending me farmville requests so I deleted it.

Maggie: OMG! LOOK! 8:44am

Photo: Noah and a large group. He’s standing next to a girl and her hand is arround his waist, his arms are resting across his chest. The caption reads: “having so much fun touring with these guys! They are great!” and the user name is Alex Jacks.

Maggie: looks like shes the guitarist for Jasmines Fudes. 8:44

I’m staring at the photo she sent me. She’s so pretty. She’s so cool, she has long black hair with blue and pink streaks. She has tattoos and a lip ring.

The jealousy I felt before is now a wild fire burning through my heart.

Part 12 here! !!!! xoxox later besties

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buckets-and-trees · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! Congrats on the milestone!☺️

If I could, can I request a meet cute prompt at a cafe? I was thinking with either Bucky Barnes or Sirius Black🤔 I understand you may be busy and sometimes the idea just flows better for one character compared to the other so if it’s ok I’ll just leave you with this?😁 Congrats once again!

Honestly, I could go either way...

Thoughts are brewing - many thoughts - for this prompt being applied to Sirius, but I can see a very distinct scene for it with Bucky right now.

Characters/Pairings: post-TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x female!Reader Word Count: 1.1k Summary: As much as things have changed, they've also stayed the same, and Bucky's just living a normal life in Brooklyn on an ordinary day, starting with morning coffee.

Content/Warnings: a little meet-cute fluff, nothing but fluff

Additional Notes: This will be the FIRST SQUARE for my Bucky Barnes Bingo @buckybarnesbingo - B3 "Old Married Couple". Literally this is just another cute coffee shop meet cute but I picked this long-haired version of Bucky, but I liked spending time with this soft version of Bucky for a few minutes, so I hope you enjoy him, too.

The way time passes fascinates Bucky. How could it not when he was born in 1917 and sitting in a café in Brooklyn over a hundred years later still in the prime of his life – a Brooklyn that’s got pieces of old and new, and both are familiar to him now. It’s been almost a year since he was pardoned, and his hair has finally grown out again, but it grows fast, and he’s cut it a few times. He only started coming to this spot in his neighborhood a month ago, but now that it’s settled firmly in as a piece of his morning routine, it’s starting to feel like it’s always been the place to supply his morning coffee and pastry. His coffee order is always the same, but he does branch out on the baked goods. Bart and Tina – the brother and sister who own the place – never fail with what they decide to bake each day for their customers. Bucky recognizes quite a few of the faces himself now. He’s even talked to a few of them – but not many, because they are all New Yorkers after all, and so some don’t want to be bothered with more than a nod.

There’s an old married couple – George and Evelyn – who come in together on the weekdays. They both still teach at the university, not quite retired yet, but they’re younger than Bucky, born in the post-WWII boom. It’s strange to think if he’d lived a normal life, he probably would have had children growing up right alongside George or Evelyn, and yet they speak to him in a very paternal way, asking after him each morning now.

He would be dead and buried, but since he’s been frozen and literally pulled in and out of time, only now is he finally thawed out and warming up to life. Things are steady, normal. He’s only taking a few missions, and so he’s starting to fill in the pieces of what the rest of a life could look like. He started volunteering at the library and there’s a position coming open that he’s being encouraged to apply for. He doesn’t need the paycheck, but he thinks he would like the stability of it – contributing to something, being needed, and for something practically anyone could do.

Bucky feels an awkward twinge, glances up, and looks around. He’s not the only one who noticed a disturbance in the normalcy of the café as he notes others are looking up and uncomfortably watching an atypical scene developing between a couple of people waiting for their orders near the pickup counter. A man in a sharp business suit with perfectly sculpted hair is speaking to you with more and more urgency as you try to naturally sidle away to other parts of the waiting area. Bucky’s seen you just two or three times come in and get your drink to go, so he thinks you’re probably new to the area, but this man clearly bothering you is unfamiliar to the morning crowd Bucky has become familiar with.

Something about the man reminds him too much of John Walker, of all people, and when that realization registers in his head, Bucky’s up and moving without even thinking.

“Oh, there you are,” he says, drawing close enough to put his hand gently on your shoulder. “I must have missed you coming in. I got us a table over there if you want to sit. I’ll bring your drink over.”

He can see he’s startled you, your eyes a little wide as you turn away from the stranger to look at him, but you do seem at last glad enough to have him give you an elegant exit from the situation with the finance bro. “Thanks, Bucky.”

Oh.

You know who he is.

He makes sure to keep a casual expression on his face as you walk around him toward the table he’d indicated. Bucky gives a gruff nod to the man who’d been badgering you and the man nods back. They’re of a similar height, but Bucky knows he’s got the muscles and glare to best him in any situation. Bucky pointedly looks him up and down and the man turns slightly and pulls out his phone to immerse himself in something and disengage from the situation. He can feel the atmosphere of the café return to normal.

Bucky looks back over at his table, and you’re just sliding your chair up to the table, your back to him. He knows he shouldn’t be surprised to still be recognized now and then. As much as he’s trying to blend in, he knows the Avenger part of his identity is part of public discourse, especially since his pardon trials when even more of his past was presented and up for debate.

“Bucky?” Tina slides a drink and a small plate with a croissant and jam on the counter. “Here’s that order,” she says. She pointedly turns the to-go cup so the side where Tina’s written your name is facing Bucky and gives him a wink and a warm smile. She knows Bucky, while friendly, doesn’t go out of his way to talk to the other patrons.

When Bucky sets your drink and croissant on the table and takes his seat again, he glances over just in time to see the other man look over at the two of you without appearing to look and the frown on his face grows. And with that half second now past, he can focus on you in front of him.

“I didn’t order anything with my drink,” you protest.

“A little something from Tina, then,” Bucky reassures you. “She likes to take care of her regulars.”

“Oh, that’s – she’s nice.”

Bucky likes the small smile that brings to your face. “I’m sorry I got you out of one undesirable situation only to make you have to sit with me until that guy leaves,” he says.

“Maybe I should thank him,” you respond with a nervous laugh, ducking your head a little. “I noticed you the first time I came in, was a little starstruck, and I was determined never to come back, but the coffee’s too good and too close to my place, so I said I’d just get my drinks to go and never embarrass myself trying to figure out how to talk to you.”

“So, then I shouldn’t tell you that guy’s walking out the door right now and you’d be free to leave if I want to talk to you for a few more minutes?” Bucky asks.

“I should probably stay here until I finish this coffee and croissant just in case he’s waiting outside.”

“Sound logic,” Bucky agrees, and the two of you relax into your seats, and time both speeds up and slows down as the conversation unfurls between the two of you.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#bucky barnes x reader #request fest #bucky barnes bingo #bucky barnes fluff #buckybarnesbingo2023 #bbb2023 #female reader

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typosandtea · 11 days ago

Note

3 and 16 of the winter asks for Tango and Murphy!!!

[Prompts]

Thanks for the ask Bleu!! ^_^ @romaniwasteland this was a lot of fun to think about! Murphy and Tango are not having a good time in winter </3

3: How does your OC feel about cold weather?

Murphy thought she knew what cold and winter were, they have those things in australia too you know.. she is so very very wrong!! When she and Nathan first moved to america they moved in the spring and spent summer waiting for, well the summer weather to start! Compared to outback aus where she and Nathan are from Boston's summer temps are like outback winter.. She didn't wear shorts and barely took off her jacket all summer and was very disappointed when it started to get colder again. It gets to mid autumn and its already the coldest shes ever been, shes a rather small and too thin woman which doesn't help keeping warm. by the start of the first winter she is petitioning and being as annoying as she can to their project lead to add some heating or at least some padding to the prototype armours shes testing, bloody hell that metal gets icy once they step outside for tests. Spends the entirety of the first winter shivering and standing next to whatever heater is available when she isn't on duty. Unfortunately for Murphy, their squad is sent to anchorage shortly after the deployment of the first generation t45s to teach others how to use it without accidentally killing yourself or your team, as well as to maintain the suits they get sent with, At least she got her way and they've finally relented and added some warmth to them, it just took them being deployed to fucking ALASKA to get the budget for it. Anchorage is not a good time for anyone involved and the frozenness is only part of it. Bombs drop and all the vault 111 residents (all vets) get mutated for use as supersoliders with very mixed results, Murphy handles the cold a little better now but still doesn't like it at all, the heat of boston summer is about the only time you'll see her without a thick jacket on, and quite a few people are surprised she has tattoos after knowing her for many months haha. TLDR: Realizes that the outback doesn't get cold at all compared to Boston and was not prepared in the slightest.

Tango doesn't have a body anymore so the temperature outside the armour doesn't really bother them very much, the suits environmental system is made to support a full adult so has no trouble keeping a brain at the correct temperature despite needing to run the controls quite a bit hotter than they would normally go (37c/~99f). Its certainly helps that Tango has so much custom hardware and like four fusion cores rather than relying on one to power everything. But do you know what comes with cold that really really sucks when you're made of hundreds of kilos of metal? SNOW. fuck snow. Traversing boston nuclear winter levels of snow is impossible for them basically, they have to walk through it rather than over it cause they weigh so much. Even when its not preventing them from going anywhere even a little bit of snow also makes everything into a filthy slurry and one of Tangos biggest pet peeves is being dirty. In the past and back west a bit in the mountains they have definitely been stuck in settlements for the winter cause of how much snow is around and had to begrudgingly settle in for a few months. Really does not like relying on others but is savvy enough about resources and skills to make themselves useful enough for a small settlement to warily accept a cranky suit of power armour as a temporary and unexpected resident, tech and science are always useful after all. TLDR: cold is fine but fuck snow.

16: What is your OC’s warm beverage of choice?

Murphy loooooves a good cuppa coffee, or at least she did back in aus, is briefly disappointed by diner style coffee.. wheres the frothy milk? what do you mean most eateries don't have baristas to make coffee? Cafe coffee is a treat now she guesses. Though she does change her tune about diner coffee pretty quick once a. she realizes how cheap it is in comparison to cafe and, b. someone points out that you get way more caffeine per cup. Grows to love it though even though she initially drank it out of warmth and for the caffeine hit haha

Tango doesn't really need to drink as such anymore since they are a brain in a jar at their core.. but one of the other robobrains who made them into tango was quite fond of his alcohol. Darren devised a system for the three of them (Tango, Darren and Bobby) to still be able to 'enjoy' the effects of alcohol has on the brain. SO aside from necessary water intake, Tango enjoys whiskey, or more accurately the effects of whiskey. Thats not really a warm beverage but they literally cant intake milk drinks, I mean they could try but it would end poorly for them, they are not equipped to deal with that.

#thanks for the ask I had alot of fun thinking about this haha!#ocs asks games #Typos! ocs tag #typos! murphy tag #typos! tango tag #fallout ocs

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scolop98 · 2 years ago

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VOTE JAKAPIL FOR DINOSAUR MARCH MADNESS

@a-dinosaur-a-day

No other contestant in the final four is such A Creature™️ the way that Jakapil is. Jakapil is simultaneously the ultimate being to exist from the perspective of a dinosaur-obsessed child and a fascinating, paradigm-shifting paleontological enigma. Literally the perfect dinosaur, what more could you want

Why vote for Jakapil?

the most likely scenario here is that this guy represents a hundred million year old ghost lineage of basal thyreophorans that we’ve never discovered before. The less likely scenarios are bipedal armored ceratopsian or a completely new kind of ornithsician, both of which have been genuinely considered by some paleontologists! Whatever the case, Jakapil represents a brand new, never-before seen lineage of dinosaurs unlike anything we’ve ever known before, and that’s SO COOL

Aesthetically, this is a bipedal armored dinosaur with tiny abelisaur-grade arms, estimated to be less than 5 ft long and 15 lb (or 1.5 m and 7 kg max). Literally perfect. I’m really bad at visualizing measurements but I’m pretty sure you could pick it up and hold it in your arms if you tried. Sure you could do that with Heracles or Caihong, but you don’t need a Time Machine to pick up parrots and shiny bird things - there’s nothing like Jakapil for you to hold and snuggle today

They’re so friggin weird. It’s got jaws like a ceratopsian or a heterodontosaur, a jaw bone that no other basal thyreophorans have, arm anatomy shockingly similar to abelisaurs, and THEY CAN CHEW. I know that chewing seems really normal to us humans but it’s so weird to see outside of mammals. Practically the only other dinosaurs that chew are ornithopods. Jakapil seems like it’s trying to be as many kinds of dinosaur as possible, which further supports my statement that it is the Ultimate Dinosaur

It’s armored and covered in spikes. ‘Nuff said

Also a friendly reminder that the only other known bipedal thyreophoran is Scutellosaurus, which was from Early Jurassic Europe. Jakapil is from late Cretaceous South America, so this guy just popped up across the world a hundred million years later with practically no trace of its ancestors. How did this happen? What the fuck were its ancestors doing in that time? Heracles may have given us neat answers to New Zealand-y questions, but Jakapil gave us questions we didn’t even know needed to be asked

I’ve said it once and I’ve said it again, South America’s fauna has been friggin' amazing since the Cretaceous and never stopped. Automatic points for being a South American dinosaur. This guy lived alongside Giganotosaurus and Buitreraptor!!

What about the other contestants, you may ask? Kholumolumo is only here for the meme. Outside of the funny name and it’s absurdly convoluted history to getting formally named, what do you actually know about it? How much does it contribute to our understanding of dinosaurs compared to the other contestants?

Caihong is basic. I’m sorry but I won’t back down from this (for another few months at least). I love dromaeosaurs as much as the next person, but literally all that Caihong has going for it is it’s ultra-inridescence. Any other Chinese dromaeosaur could provide the rest. Look past your instinctual love of shiny things and vote for something that breaks away from everything we thought we knew to become something truly unique!

As for Heracles... I actually have nothing bad to say about Heracles, I love New Zealand's fauna and giant flightless birds (especially on islands). But while I love Heracles for everything it stands for, I feel like Jakapil stands for so much more. Heracles is a wonderful addition to our knowledge of it's lineage and environment, but also... is it really that surprising to find a giant flightless bird in New Zealand that belongs to that a family endemic to New Zealand? Jakapil is just such a bizarre, fascinating, unexpected discovery from so many perspectives. It is truly the ultimate dinosaur, and we should honor it as such

As of the time of writing there's still four days left at the polls and Jakapil is a steady second place in all three of them. We still have time to win this for Jakapil and dethrone Caihong!

#dinosaur march madness #dmm rising stars #dmm final four #dmm finals #jakapil #dmm #a-dinosaur-a-day #JAKAPIL SWEEP #long post #hmm i should probably be tagging these as long posts shouldnt i

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radfemsiren · 4 months ago

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Hey, how do you personally deal with the so-called progressive Muslims (they aren't really) who also claim Islam is the first religion that gave women rights when we know that's not the case

Oh my god I hate when western Muslims say this, it’s so stupid 🙄 Their biggest defense of this is “Oh, well women’s rights were really bad before Islam, they were literally killing their baby daughters!! So comparatively, Islam did a pretty good job for the time!!”

My go to argument is: Isn’t Islam supposed to be the final religion? Muhammad is supposed to be the final prophet? They were worshiping hundreds of gods at that time and Allah made no compromises with that. He didn’t say “Oh well, you can keep a few of your old pagan gods.” No. He said you have to worship. Only. Me. So this idea of Allah suddenly not being able to lay down hard laws about women’s rights is so ridiculous. He can make us interrupt our day 5 times to pray but not make it haram to marry a child? Huh???

They use this stupid argument about literally everything. “Oh sex slaves had to be allowed because they normally would kill their prisoners of war at that time.” Ok… make it haram then. It’s so easy to tell these people to fight jihad, to pray five times, to starve for a month… but now it’s too hard for Allah to tell them not to rape?

It’s a man made religion catering to man made desires. If the “final” religion only works for that time… then it’s not really meant to followed forever then.

#asks #anti islam

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good-old-gossip · 7 months ago

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Eight-year-old Haneen Abu-Shamsiya is supposed to be sitting in her classroom in Hebron in the occupied West Bank, but, for months now, she has been forced into online learning after her school closed down due to Israeli military restrictions around the city.

Since the war on Gaza broke out on 7 October, about 2,000 Palestinian students in Hebron have been studying online. The Israeli army has closed all roads leading to around 50 schools in the city, installing barriers and checkpoints that have made the route for students treacherous. Residents have also been facing increasing attacks and harassment by Israeli settlers, making parents afraid of sending their children out on the streets.

“I wish I could go back to school like before. I miss school a lot. I want to go back to my classmates. These online classes are not clear, and we don’t understand well compared to face-to-face classes,” said Haneen, who is a grade-three pupil at Qurtuba school, one of the few schools providing online education in the city of Hebron.

Haneen is not alone. Brothers Ramez and Murad, 11 and 10, are also not thrilled about the sudden change. On normal days, before their school was forced to close, the two boys had to pass through three Israeli military barriers to reach Qurtuba school in the southern part of Hebron.

“When we used to go to school they [the Israeli army] would check us. Now, the Israeli army has deprived us of education ... although it was hard to reach my school because of the barriers. I am yearning to go back, to study with my classmates and meet my teacher and head teacher,” Ramez, who attends online classes for grade six, told MEE. His brother Murad, a grade five student, agreed.

“I have not been to school since 7 October. I study online, but I prefer the school. In the online lessons, we do not have a whiteboard, we cannot take our books. I miss doing PE lessons, playing football and buying food from the school canteen,” he said. Out of 50 schools in Hebron, only four in the Old City managed to turn to distance learning, with lessons set via Microsoft Teams or Zoom.

Some lessons are broadcast via television, according to an education official. “We are working hard to find a solution to have students resume face-to-face tuition, but it is extremely difficult now. In order to protect our pupils, and for their safety, they are studying online,” Atef al-Gamal, head of the Palestinian education authority in Hebron, told MEE. He added that the authorities were obliged to resort to distance learning as a temporary solution given the situation in Hebron. According to a report by the Palestinian education ministry, 46 schools were attacked by the Israeli army and settlers between 7 October and 13 February.

In areas that are deemed relatively safe, hundreds of thousands of students have been engaged in hybrid learning, attending classes at school and receiving e-lessons at home on alternate days, the ministry said. “Face-to-face education is still the most efficient ... it allows better interaction between students and teachers and a better follow-up as well, compared to the online education, where the student is behind the screen at home. But students’ safety is a priority,” said Gamal. “We are trying our best to compensate with online education. We hope that in the coming years there will be more contingency plans, but for now we ask the parents to closely follow up with the students’ performance.”

Parents are also facing challenges as their children struggle to settle into online learning. Raid al-Sharif, the father of Murad and Ramez, said students were forced to abide by this transition to distance learning, which entails many challenges. “Online education is full of challenges. Not all children pay the same attention while attending e-lessons, because they are kids in the end. We follow up with them, and we are not saying the situation is extremely bad, but face-to-face education is much better,” Sharif told MEE.

Sharif also pointed to the financial requirements of online lessons that some families might struggle to meet. “I am able to provide my two sons with smart phones to use to attend the lessons, but other families could find that very difficult. Not everyone can afford a device that could cost around 500 shekels [$132]. We are talking about six months of online schooling,” he said. The children’s wellbeing is also affected, according to Sharif. “Their psychological state also gets worse.

They are staying in the same room to attend all the lessons. They don’t get to see faces or meet anyone. They have energy that is not vented out, so this definitely affects them negatively,” he said.

Given the fact that many schools in Hebron were forced to shut as the Israeli army imposed strict road barriers, Sharif cannot think of any solutions to have his children go back to their classrooms. He said the only option would be to withdraw the students from Qurtuba and register them in other schools that are in accessible areas, but he believes that abandoning these institutions put them at risk of being taken over by Israeli settlers.

“It would be a crime against our own neighbourhoods and schools. The situation should then remain as it is,” Sharif said.

“We will try to help our children reach a safe zone, but not at the expense of our neighbourhoods that are in danger of being stolen by Israeli settlers and the Israeli army.”

✍️ by Mosab Shawer in Hebron, occupied Palestine

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spearxwind · 2 years ago

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since talas has to eat One Big Thing every month or so like you said and i assume communities around the globe are reeling in their own leviathans, what are their populations like? are there plenty, are they going extinct, are leviathans each unique things, or are there things like common and rare species etc and if so do these normal, not shapeshifter leviathans display special abilities like hades' being a blowtorch or talas' ice beam (SORRY for this i love the idea of gigantic ocean creatures being regular things and would love to see more of the biome sort of stuff this world has if you've given it any thought!!! love the characters and the gay eels yes but the enviromence...) are there leviathan hunting rules/regulations like throwing back female blue crabs...........

Oh good question! :]

Leviathans are one hundred percent NOT going extinct. The ocean is massive and immensely deep, there are MANY of them out there. Comparatively, there are very few mers because there's very little land, and they hunt for resources, not to fill a quota or just for sport, so leviathan hunting does not drive them to extinction. If we're gonna use Talas as a comparison, average mer communities would be able to rely on maybe one hunt a month or so as well, roughly.

And yeah there is a hunting guild that somewhat regulates hunts (there's not like,,, hard law syndicate or whatever), for the most part to make sure the ecosystem does not take damage. Merfolk are a part of the ecosystem too just like the big leviathans are so they both fulfil their role in it

In general leviathans do have some "species" that they can be categorized in but in general tend to be unique, but that's because I like designing different things and I like the idea of some of them being completely unexplained x) so I guess the answer of that is there's both kinds. Could be theres a species of leviathans that are like whales and live in pods, sometimes a fish just Becomes Fucking Huge, sometimes [redacted information], etc etc. Free real estate

Some DO have special abilities as well, the most common beam attack ones are water jets, poison, and acid (siege for example, is a non-shifter leviathan who spits acid). Fire is really rare but it happens. Sometimes they do have other abilities like hypnosis or illusions that are meant to be more defensive than offensive. I don't have a whole lot of info on that though bc the general vibe for that is giving them the vibes of some irl sailor legends for "what sea monsters could potentially do", some of em could be tall tales some of em could be real

As for biomes.... I have the overland ones set pretty much. Still have not decided on a lot of the ocean ones, but theres a lot. I would like to have a subnautica-esque variety of them (as in, really varied with some of them really colorful) but I havent gotten around to actually think thonking of them very much yet. Funny enough my own world's oceans are largely unexplored to me at the moment x) but I will get on that for sure!

Currently the biomes ive at least thought out are the polar areas (especially voids embrace), a volcanic area around the spine, with a lot of hydrothermal vents and stuff (things get real weird there), the tropic belt is filled with life and colors and is neighbored by grand reefs which are also filled with life and colors

#ask #challenger deep #anon #i hope i answered all ur questions!! ty for asking!#im so tired im so sorry if this reads weirdly i dont have the braincells for proper proofreading wahh #if its too incomprehensible or if i left things out please feel free to ask again

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skarlette1 · 2 years ago

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Be Cumming Peg

--With much gratitude to Meleager for the request accompanied by a delicious coffee. A sequel of sorts to the short story, “Good Cop Routine,” available as part of Libido League Box Set #1, available at Smashwords and Amazon.

It had been three months since Quentin Binder—kidnapper, sex trafficker, leader of the sex cult called the “Indoctrinated Circle”, and self-described wizard—had escaped from Chastity Island Prison. Nearly a year ago, when he was first arrested, he’d tricked me with one of his bullshit “spells” when I interrogated him. I was not about to let the bastard walk free. When I heard that Binder had gone missing from his cell, I swore that I’d track him down and lock him in the darkest hole in the world, or my name wasn’t Detective Maggie Voyeur!

While my captain sympathized with my desire to bring this piece of human filth to justice, the Skarlette City Extra Normal Crimes Unit needed their top detective, namely me, to focus on other cases. I had to put my one-woman manhunt for Binder on the back burner, or at least relegate it to my personal time. My girlfriend Neena hated me devoting any more of my personal time to police work, but she did her best to understand my passion for justice—and for seeing Binder’s face behind bars again.

The lack of investigation time is why it took me three months to uncover the fact that Binder had a half-brother nobody knew about. Quincy Binder was nearly two decades younger than Quentin and raised in another state. However, the 21-year-old Quincy had been attending Skarlette City University for the last three years, studying computer science. If the Indoctrinated Circle had some clever, young geek among their ranks, that might explain why the SCPD’s tech investigators hadn’t been able to track down the cult’s finances, or even hard evidence of its existence.

Of course, maybe Quincy hadn’t been drawn into Quentin’s life of crime. Hell, they might not even have spoken in years; Quentin didn’t strike me as much of a family man. More of a beefy, broad-shouldered, steely-eyed psychopath with a long, dark beard and thick cock.

I hated how often I’d dreamt of that cock in the last year.

The dreams must have been a side effect of the magic he used. Have I mentioned how much I hated magic? From high school, college, the Marine Corps, to the police academy, I finished at the top of every class I ever attended. I’d easily taken down violent suspects a foot taller and two hundred pounds heavier than me. I might not be a superheroine, but with the right equipment, I’d tussled with and captured villains with actual superpowers, like Piledriver and Nervewracker. You wouldn’t find a tougher, stronger, more badass bitch on the SCPD.

But all of that meant jack against magic. A couple incantations and asshole extraordinaire Quentin Binder was still haunting my dreams a year later. Magic sucked.

Compared to a fucking wizard, a kid that programmed computers rather than cast spells was nothing to worry about. My next step was to ask Quincy Binder some questions.

I drove down to SCU and found Quincy Binder working in the library late on a Friday evening. He was three levels down in the stacks, re-shelving books, one of the few souls that hadn’t yet started the weekend. Rows of metal shelves shielded us from any prying eyes; the perfect place to get my answers. Quincy had his brother’s height, but while Quentin was a brick wall of a man, Quincy was was a rice-paper screen. The kid was so thin a stiff breeze would have blown him away. A faded heavy metal T-shirt and torn jeans hung off his gaunt frame.

“Quincy Binder?”

He glared up at me through thick glasses, his spindly arms leaning on a metal cart laden with books. “Who wants to know?”

I flashed him my badge. “Detective Voyeur. Skarlette City PD. I need to ask you a few questions about your brother. When was the last time you spoke to him?”

“Why do you care?” he sneered in a nasal voice.

“Because he’s a convicted felon who escaped from prison. If you helped him at all, that makes you an accessory. It binds you to him. You’ll miss a lot of classes if you’re sitting behind bars. Tell me what you know and I can help you.”

Quincy looked down. “Don’t worry about me, Detective. I’m not the one bound to Quentin. You are!”

He shoved the cart of books at me with surprising strength for his build. It knocked me into one of the shelves, which collapsed under the strain. Dozens of books rained down on me as I fell to the floor. Quincy dashed off into the stacks.

By the time I regained my feet, I could hear the distant echo of his sneakers pounding up the stairs. There was no way I’d catch up to him on foot, but the overturned book cart held something else bound to him: A black shoulder bag with the same heavy metal band name as Quincy’s faded T-shirt.

Rooting through the bag, I found a laptop, a thick envelope of cash, three cheap burner phones, and several canned energy drinks. The electronics would surely lead me to Quentin Binder more directly than any sort of interrogation of his brother could have.

I placed my phone over each of the burners, then rested it on the laptop. The techs at SCPD had just upgraded my phone with enhanced tech that would clone all the memory hardware in the devices and automatically upload them to the department’s secure servers. The techs could start digging into them before I even got back to the office. All I needed was to get out of this sub-basement’s cellular dead zone and my colleagues would have Binder’s information at their fingertips.

While the electronic cloning proceeded, I spotted something glinting inside Quincy’s bag. At the bottom of the bag was a small silver container of some sort. It was a flat, round disk covered with deep engravings in a language I’d never seen. The silver wasn’t cool like metal as it filled the palm of my hand, it almost pulsed. Closer inspection revealed that the there was a seam between the two halves of the disk and a small clasp. I couldn’t imagine why some friendless tech nerd like Quincy would have an antique lady’s makeup compact!

Wondering if it hid some sort of contraband, I pressed on the clasp. The compact sprang open, revealing a half bottom filled with face powder and an applicator. The inside top of the lid was a small, bright mirror.

Glancing into the mirror, the face looking back wasn’t my own!

I mean, she looked just like me, but while I kept my hair cut short, my reflection had long, dark braids. Her face was plastered with more makeup than I’d ever worn, her bright red lips smirking at me. Instead of my professional pantsuit, the woman in the mirror wore a leather harness and black corset along with a thick leather collar around her neck.

“Hello, Maggie,” the mirror-me said. “You look so, so stressed. It’s bad for your skin to frown so much.”

“What the fuck kind of trick is this?” I pulled the mirror close to my face, checking to see if it were a cleverly disguised video screen. There were no pixels, nor parallax. The image tracked my movements flawlessly. It was definitely a mirror. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m you. I’m Peg.”

Peg had been the nickname my abusive college boyfriend had called me, and the name Quentin Binder called me in my dreams. I hated that it was also the name that made my pussy slick. “My name isn’t Peg. It’s Maggie.”

“Of course you need to be Maggie when you’re acting like the tough police detective. But that’s not your true name. Master Quentin looked down into your soul and saw the slut that you truly are. That needy, pleading, desperate slut is me. The one grateful for my master’s collar. I’m Peg.”

“Bullshit,” I forced myself to say, but couldn’t force myself to believe. Despite the outlandishness of her claims, the high-pitched breathiness of her voice was straight out of my dreams. I remembered hearing that voice moaning with desire on so many nights. Just the memory of those dreams made my skin flush and my nipples stiff.

More than that, her voice didn’t seem to echo properly in the enclosed stacks. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was definitely something off about the way she spoke.

“That’s because you’re not hearing me with your ears, Maggie,” the smirking face in the mirror said. “I’m speaking right into your mind. Because I’m you.”

“Bullshit,” I whispered, but this magic shit was starting to freak me out. How could I escape my own reflection?

“You can’t escape me, Maggie,” Peg said. “You can only become me.”

My knees got weak at the thought of becoming such a submissive slut as Peg. Fuck!

“Like hell I will,” I muttered, and tried to summon the strength to hurl the makeup compact across the room. My hand trembled, my fingers savoring the warm caress of the engraved silver. It took every ounce of willpower just to tilt my hand far enough for the silver disk to slide off my palm. It tumbled into the heap of books.

Without looking back, I pocketed my phone and staggered toward the stairs. My legs felt like rubber but I pushed myself forward. Every step rubbed my sensitized flesh against my clothing, increasing my already-raging lust. Near the stairway leading out of the stacks stood a handful of study cubicles. The ugly mid-century constructions of crimped metal offered me a place to recenter myself before tackling the staircase. Sinking into a chair, I laid my head down on the glass desk blotter. Closing my eyes for a moment and slowing my breathing would help my body settle down. I’d be able to focus on the case at hand and forget about whatever bizarre daydreams I was having about that bitch Peg.

“It’s rude to call me a bitch, bitch,” Peg’s voice rang out loud and clear. Lifting my head, Peg looked up at me from the reflection in the glass desk blotter. “You can’t get rid of me with some deep breaths, Maggie. I’m always with you.”

“No. No, you’re a trick,” I whispered. I couldn’t look away from Peg’s face in the reflection. I could feel myself falling into her wide, dark eyes.

“If either of us is a trick, Maggie, it’s you. When the Indoctrinated Circle needs an agent inside the police department, they conjure you. Who do you think keeps sabotaging your investigation? As soon as Master Binder circles back around, he’ll put me back in charge of us. You’ll have so much more fun when I’m driving our body.”

“Binder’s coming back?” My pussy clenched at the thought. Fuck! I fumbled to draw my pistol from under my jacket. With impossible willpower and two failed attempts, I managed to drag my eyes away from the slut in the reflection.

Turning as though I were moving through molasses, I found Quincy Binder coming down the stairs. Raising both arms, I pointed my weapon at his chest. “Freeze,” I said with too much neediness in my voice.

Quincy Binder smirked at me. “Or what? You’ll shoot me with your handcuffs?”

I looked at the weapon in my hands. It wasn’t my gun. Gazing into the reflection must have confused my sense of left and right. I stood motionless for an eternity of moments as those thoughts percolated through my brain.

“Here, let me handle that,” Binder said. Taking the steel restraints from my trembling fingers, he snapped one cuff around my wrist.

Buzzzzzz-click!

I’d heard that sharp, metallic sound a million times while arresting suspects. It never went well for the person on the receiving end. My flight-or-fight finally kicked in. Adrenaline surging through my body, I turned and ran as fast as my feet would carry me. The automatic lights snapped on with every row of books that I passed, none of them showing a way out. All they did was let Quincy know where I was running. I spotted an exit sign pointed right. I turned the corner and ran into a wall. Had he used sinister magic to keep me trapped, or just confuse my sense of direction? There wasn’t time to wonder, only time to run.

I found an open door and hurried inside, hoping to barricade it from within. There was an electric hum for two seconds before the motion-activated lights switched on. The flickering fluorescents shown down on the men’s restroom: two urinals, a stall, a sink.

And a mirror.

“What a silly girl you are, Maggie. You’re just wasting time,” Peg taunted me from the mirror. She’d taken off the corset, wearing just the leather harness and thick collar to accentuate her nudity. Her nipples were thick and stiff; I could feel my own pressing against my bra.

“No. I will not become you, Peg.” I couldn’t look away from mirror and lacked the strength to move my feet. I was trapped, just like in my recurring dream about being cornered by a strong master ready to overpower me.

“That’s an awesome dream, Maggie!” Peg said. “Think about that dream. How often does that dream-Master make you cum?”

“Every … time?” I couldn’t lie to her.

“Exactly. I’m going to drown you in orgasms as soon as Master Binder finds you.” Peg’s eyes gleamed with a thirst for pleasure I knew all too well.

From the hallway, I heard the squeak of sneakered feet. Binder was nearly here.

“That’s right, Maggie. He’s almost here to make us cum. Give a little shout so he knows where to find you.”

My whole body ached for touch. The sneakers were at the door now. I shook my head, biting my lip to keep from crying out.

“You are such a stubborn little bitch, Maggie,” Peg scolded from the mirror, her dark eyes flaring in anger. “But I’m every bit as stubborn and far bitchier. Maybe you can fight me now, but you can’t fight me forever. Every time your attention wanders, I’ll be right there. Think about every confidential informant you have. One misdialed phone call from a police detective could blow their cover wide open. Think of all the paperwork you do. A careless mistake on one of those forms could have any of your arrests thrown out of court.”

I shook my head fiercely, mouthing the word No as the footsteps passed by the bathroom door.

“Don’t test me, Maggie. Work is only the beginning,” Peg said. “After you give into my urge to order ‘just one more’ drink at the bar, imagine how many dark secrets you can blurt out to whoever’s around. Or to your girlfriend. It took Neena a long time to forgive you when her drunk boss flirted with you at that party last year. Imagine that you’re in bed with Neena’s pretty blonde head between your thighs. She licks you just the way you like. As we crest, your voice cries out the wrong name. How do you think your jealous sweetheart will like that?”

“No!” I screamed, the sound bouncing off the bathroom tile.

In the hall, the sneakers stopped. Turned. Came closer.

Peg smiled wickedly at me. “Good girl, Maggie. Such an easily-manipulated, weak-willed girl you are! I’m going to rub our stiff little clit as a reward for doing exactly what I wanted.”

My fingers twitched against my holster; it’s all I could do to keep them from plunging between my thighs. The door opened. Quincy Binder walked in. I couldn’t react to him in any way. Peg’s dark eyes pinned me in place, like a bug pinned to a board.

“I said you were the bound one, bitch.” Quincy walked behind me, careful to never block my view of the mirror. “You’re bound to my brother. By right of blood, that binds you to me.” He nudged me over to the toilet stall. With the stall door standing open, there was a bar over the doorway. Quincy lifted my hands over my head, one wrist on either side of the bar. Buzzzz-click!

Peg’s gloating expression shifted to one of decadent pleasure as we felt the cold steel close around both wrists. “Our master has gifted us with bondage, Maggie. What does a good girl say for a gift?”

“Thank you,” I heard my voice speak. I couldn’t tell if it was me or the magic talking.

“You’re very, very welcome, bitch,” Quincy growled in my ear.

Reaching around me, he tore my shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. Pulling up my bra, he pawed at my defenseless breasts. I moaned, falling deeper into the reflections of Peg’s eyes. I could just make out that she was also hanging from a bar by her wrists. She was wearing a blue blazer, like I was. I couldn’t tell if her body was still wrapped in the harness she’d been wearing, or if that was just the reflection of my shoulder holster. Was she becoming me or was I becoming her?

“Does it matter, Maggie?” Peg said, her voice thick with lust as Quincy’s hands groped us. “Who cares who’s becoming who when we’ll both be cumming soon?”

“Be … cumming ...” I moan, my flesh burning with passion.

“You’ll be cumming when I tell you to, bitch.” Quincy pulled down my slacks and panties together.

I struggled to keep my legs closed, although I couldn’t have told you why.

Quincy let out a cruel laugh. “Quentin told me that you fight the magic every fucking time, but I didn’t believe it. No one could be so fucking stubborn. But here you are, still struggling. Un-fucking-believable!”

I was fighting, wasn’t I? I lifted my chin a fraction of an inch, and narrowed my eyes gazing into Peg’s needy face. After all, I was Maggie Voyeur, the most badass cop on the—

“You mean the hottest ass cop, Maggie,” Peg taunted. “You need what Master Binder can give you so, so bad.”

“No … I … won’t …” I muttered, hoping my words would give me strength. “I’ll … fight … you—OHMYFUCKINGOD!”

Quincy’s cock slid inside me with one smooth, deep stroke. The white-hot pleasure stabbed from my cunt to my mind to my soul, skewering every ounce of me with blazing bliss.

“Quentin said you always fought, bitch. He also said you always lose. Quentin will be so happy to see you on your knees when I drag you out of this library and haul your ass to his hideout.” Quincy started fucking me, hard and quick.

“Hard and quick is the way we like it, Maggie. We’re going to cum so hard when we accept the Circle.” Her eyes in the mirror were so weak and needy. I knew mine looked even more desperate.

“I ohhhh-bey … the … ugh … Circle,” I moaned with every thrust. The magic and sex was too much for me to resist, too much for anyone. At least when Binder led my obedient body to see Quentin, my phone would automatically send the evidence and my location to the SCPD.

“That’s so tricky, Maggie,” Peg moaned between thrusts. “But I’m trickier. Tell Master Binder about the phone.”

“Nooo … ooohhh ... oooohh-bey … the … Circle,” I moaned louder, trying to drown out Peg’s voice with cries of lust.

“Damn right you do, bitch.” Quincy jackhammered deep into my cunt. My climax rose up within me, ready to explode.

“Tell him about the phone, Maggie, or I won’t let us cum,” Peg snapped, biting her lip till it bled.

My climax hovered, just out of reach. I thrust back to meet Quincy’s thrusts. It made me burn hotter, but no closer to release.

“You won’t get any closer until you tell him, Maggie.”

Words tumbled out of my mouth between moans. “I … I … ohhhhh-bey … I … need to … cum … I need ...”

“You are so fucking tight, bitch,” Quincy growled. “You must be right on the fucking edge. Plunge over. Give in.��

“It will feel good to tell him about the phone, Maggie,” Peg taunted me from the mirror. “You’ll get to cum if you just say the words, ‘My phone has evidence on it.’”

“My … ph-ph-ph-fuck! … my phone … has … oooohhh … has … evidence … on … it—OHMYFUCKINGOD!” My body writhed with wave after wave of bliss as I came all over Master Binder’s cock. Never had anything felt so good. Never. It burned me to ashes.

Afterward, I hung limply from my chained wrists, my legs too weak to do anything but quiver as Master Binder’s cum oozed down my legs. As my eyes came back into focus, they settled on my reflection in the mirror: the picture of an obedient slut well-rewarded.

“You are one hot piece of ass, especially for being a cop,” Master Binder said, pulling up his jeans. “What did you say your name was, bitch?”

“My name is Peg, Master Binder. I obey the Circle,” I said, without the slightest trace of deceit.

“Okay, Peg, tell me about this evidence on your phone.”

I was only too happy to tell him every little secret that stubborn, foolish Maggie had tried to keep from him. The Circle is endless. I live to serve the Circle.

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Sorry I was away longer than planned. Hope it was worth the wait!

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Like what you read? Will you buy me a coffee and request something rich to sink my teeth into? Or peek into the depths of my longer fiction?

#skarletteone #mind control #flash fiction #superhero

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