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tinydefector · 8 months ago

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Human's effects

More a silly little thing that I had to write out.

Warnings: talks about sex, xenophilia, kinks

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

Human Effects 2 - characters

Request are open

____

There were a lot of things that fascinated the cybertronians over humans. Their size, body types, skin tones and those soft they are.

So many of them become so fascinated over the fact that such small and fragile creatures don't have plating to protect themselves but only wear soft fabrics.

And it slowly leads a lot of Cybertronians to realising they were Xenophiles.

A list of kinks and fetishes cybertronians discovered from it.

-size kink

-skin fetish

- hair pulling

- silk and ribbon play

- cum inflation

-breeding

-pet play

- vore

-fluid play and consumption

- spiking warming

- Heart and spark syncing

- new spike and Valve modifications to test on their human lover

There's originally a lot of unknowns about humans, and cybertronians are rather intrigued, for one the first times the a lot of the crew of lost light had encountered them was on black market and high priced pets, and companions.

There were exceptions such as Perceptor, Ratchet and Megatron who had been around humans before but for a lot of the bots this was their first time seeing them. that is until they are assigned a human communications, relations Ambassador/ liaison.

But after the black market incident it had led a lot of bots into research over humans. And it just spirals more with them discovering some rather dark history with cybertronians keeping humans as playthings. And finding out their ‘interface equipment’ isn't that different from their own, just more organic and smaller.

A late night of drinking at swerve slowly devolved into conversation over their local human. Brainstorm sits nursing his drink of engex while he and others of the ship chat away. "So does it fascinate anyone else over the fact that humans don't have natural plating or any kind of protection for their squishy form?" He brings up, he himself had fallen down the rabbit hole of human porn but didn't quite know how to breach the subject with anyone else.

"Oh Primus, look who decided to join us, thought you were holding up with your Conjunx Chrome!" Swerve said with a chuckle, placing more drinks down. He hopped up onto one of the bar stools and leaned in eagerly, His attention flicks to Brainstorm. "You bring up a good point, Brainstorm," Swerve replied.

"Those squishy humans are really something else, ain't they? No armour, no defences - I'd be scared outta my circuits if I was just soft protoform all the time!, like i’m so surprised squishy hasn't been stepped on yet"

Rodimus nodded in agreement. "Yet they've managed to survive just fine so far. There's obviously more to them than meets the eye. Like i've seen some of the things our ambassador can do like the strange stretching"

"I dunno," Skids chimed in. "Seems pretty fraggin' reckless if you ask me. One good shot and it lights out!"

Rewind shuddered. "Ugh, don't remind me. Just thinking about all those organics and tubes and who knows what else squishing around in there makes my fuel tank turn." He made a dramatic churning sound effect.

Riptide laughed. "I saw a nature documentary once about these hairless ape creatures the humans evolved from. Now THOSE guys were squishy."

“What in Primus have you been watching?!”

“some old earth docs that Percy’s has, bots got a lot of info on Terra and the planet's history” The bots shared a collective laugh at the image. Swerve took a swig of his energon. "Frag, maybe there's something to be said about living on the edge like that! Sure keeps things interesting, its still strange that they are somehow one of the top predators of their planet yet are smaller than half the things they eat"

Brainstorm goes quiet for a moment. "Have you seen how flexible they are?"

Swerve nearly spit out his energon. "Whoa hey, I don't need those kinds of vivid imagery floatin' around my processor thank you very much!, keep the squishy interface vids to yourself" he said, waving his hands animatedly.

"You have to admit, the way those fleshbags can contort themselves is pretty impressive," Skids added. "Must come in handy for.. maintenance." He waggled his optical ridges suggestively.

Brainstorm nodded pensively. "Indeed. Their non-metal structure allows for feats we could never replicate by ourselves." He took a sip of his energon. "Always makes me curious what other evolutionary adaptations they've developed to compensate for such vulnerability. The potential for scientific discovery is endlessly fascinating with their species and ancestors."

Riptide shrugged. "As long as they don't expect ME to try any of their bone-breaking yoga moves," he laughed. "This chassis is meant for tough stuff, not Twister!"

"You think they would be soft, you know if you interface with one?" Brainstorm asked while downing his drink, the engex was slowly going to his processor loosening his lips.

"Oh don't give me that look I know for a fact you all have thought about doing with a human at least once! Rodimus I know for a fact you eye them up everytime our little liaison walks past you" He calls out Rodimus.

Rodimus nearly choked on his energon in an attempt to look innocent. "Wh-what? That's not - I never -" he sputtered in protest, flustered optics darting around at the other bots.

Brainstorm smirked as Rodimus squirmed uncomfortably on the stool. "Oh please, don't try to deny it, Captain. You're about as subtle as a combiner in a supply closet."

"Roddy's got the hots for squishy, who knew!" Swerve giggled uncontrollably.

Skids nudged Riptide playfully. "Hey, maybe we got a xenophiliac on the ship!"

"Alright alright, knock it off you glitches," Rodimus growled, though the blue flush across his face said otherwise. "I was just... curious, that's all. They ARE a strange species."

Swerve tried to contain his laughter. "Ohhh I bet you are more than curious, if you catch my drift!, wanna get up close and personal" More raucous peals of laughter from the group.

Brainstorm stroked his chin in thought. "They do feel intriguingly delicate. I wonder if their flexible frames would be more pleasurable to interface with than our own rigid forms..."

"Have you seen videos of them, they stretch a lot, like a lot, like I know human skin is resilient but i didn't think they were that resilient " Brainstorm states remembering some of the videos he had seen online. Other bots peak up intrigued.

Swerve choked again as his fuel tank nearly turned inside out. "Brainstorm! That's... more than I needed to visualise, thank you very much."

Skids seemed a bit less phased. "Fleshbags gettin' their twist on, huh? Can't say I'm not curious now."

Even Rodimus seemed intrigued despite his earlier protests. "Resilient is an understatement. I've seen some of the contortions that humans can do - it's astounding that their protoforms don't tear apart."

Brainstorm nodded enthusiastically. "Precisely! With the right lubrication and technique, I hypothesise an interface with a limber human form would provide entirely novel sensory data."

Riptide shifted uncomfortably. "Not sure I'm ready to dive into the fleshy deep end just yet.”

Swerve shot him a sly grin. "Aw c'mon Rip, live a little! Where's your sense of adventure?"

Rodimus tried to steer the subject elsewhere. "Let's maybe change topics before someone needs a wipe down. Or Primus forbid, Magnus overhears you lot"

"I hope I did not hear what my processor just heard" Ultra Magnus states while staring down at the group of drinking mechs. A Lot of bots in the bar snicker at the group getting in trouble.

"Come on Sir, get that wrench out of you aft, join us!" Skids called out.

Swerve let out an audible squeak at Ultra Magnus's stern tone, almost dropping his engex in panic. "U-Um, Magnus sir! Fancy seeing you here. We were just, uh, discussing..."

He shot desperate optics at the others for help, but they all seemed to shrink down in their seats under Magnus's disapproving glare.

Rodimus flashed an uneasy grin. "Just having a friendly debate about alien species, you know how it is. Brainstorm was bringing up some, er, interesting biological points..."

Ultra Magnus sighed wearily. "I'd rather not know the details, thank you. Some topics are best left undiscussed in public."

The whole bar erupted into laughter at the group's misfortune. "Ah lay off em Magnus!" one patron called out. "They're just havin' fun!"

Another bot piped up. "Yeah, loosen up that rusty chassis and join us! One drink won't hurt."

Magnus scowled, unamused. But as the encouragement grew louder, he glanced around hesitantly...

Swerve spotted an opening. "C'mon Magnus, live a little! I'll even give you a two-for-one special." He flashed a hopeful grin.

The enforcer grumbled but his resolve was cracking. Against his better judgement, he pulled up a stool. "One drink." Swerve whooped and poured him a double.

They cheer as Magnus sits down to drink with them. Skids speak up. "So brainstorm you saying you'd hook up with a fleshy, get nice and personal with a human" he calls out with a laugh.

Brainstorm leaned forward eagerly. "Why of course! The pursuit of scientific knowledge knows no boundaries. Though upon further review, direct interfacing with an organic might require certain, ah, safety protocols."

Skids peered at him suspiciously. "Exactly what kind of 'research' are you plannin' on doing Brainy?"

Swerve nudged Riptide with a smirk. "I'll bet ya 20 shanix Brainstorm's just trying to find an excuse to get jiggy with the humies!"

Riptide snorted. "No way, I ain't takin' THAT bet!"

Rodimus dropped his face in his palms with a groan. "can we PLEASE stop picturing Brainstorm fragging humans?"

Ultra Magnus coughed on his engex, catching the comment he'd really rather not have heard.

But Brainstorm paid them no mind, lost in scientific contemplation. "The human capacity for sensory input and feedback would provide a rich study on cross-species interface protocol adaptability..."

"INTERFACE PROTOCOLS?!" Swerve shrieked. The table erupted into howls of laughter at Magnus's deeply uncomfortable expression. It was going to be a LONG night indeed.

“Primus Brainstorm you kinky fragger”

"Fine then everyone servo up if your not at least somewhat curious or thought about it at least once" Brainstorm calls out to all of Swerve's bars patrons

"Oooh, Brainstorm's putting us all on the spot!" Swerve giggled with gleeful mischief. He raised his servo without hesitation.

Skids was quick to follow suit, slamming his half-empty glass down. "Frag it, I'll admit it! Those soft squishy bodies got me wonderin' what else they're good for."

To everyone's surprise, Rodimus sheepishly lifted a servo as well, avoiding optic contact with Ultra Magnus. Riptide shrugged and joined in the show of servos, if only to blend in.

The majority of bots in the bar started raising their hands amid roars of laughter and drunken encouragement. Only a select few hesitated, shooting nervous glances at Magnus.

The enforcement officer's expression cycled through outrage, resignation and back to outrage as his gaze swept over the forest of raised servos. "I cannot condone such deviant interest in alien biologies," he protested, voice stiff.

But as more servos stayed stubbornly aloft, Magnus sagged with a weary sigh. After a long moment, he slowly, begrudgingly raised one massive hand as well.

The bar erupted into ear-splitting cheers. Swerve howled with glee, banging his fists on the counter. "Look's like we've all got a bit of xenophile in us after all! Even you, Magnus my mech!"

Magnus buried his faceplate in his servos as Brainstorm cackled maniacally. Once the bar settles back down its Swerve who speaks up with a smirk on his faceplate. "So... which one of you charming mechs are gonna be the first to try and get our lovely Liaison?" He teases.

Rodimus sputtered into his drink at Swerve's question, flushing brighter. "W-what? I never said anything about actually doing anything!, it's all just fantasies Swerve!" he protested in a hissed tone.

Skids rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, well they do have a cute lil' figure. Bet they'd be a wild ride..."

Swerve grinned slyly at Rodimus. "Aw c'mon Captain, don't tell me you ain't thought about it at least once! I bet they'd be real fun to break in, get all soft and pliable..."

Rodimus smacked Swerve upside the helm. "Knock it off!" He shot a pleading glance at Ultra Magnus as if begging for rescue.

But unexpectedly, Brainstorm was the one who spoke up. "While the organic's flexibility is intriguing, directly interfacing could introduce unknown health risks or cultural taboos. Outside the fact our people have kept humans as pets and companions in the past. A more ethical approach would be gaining consent for strictly observational research."

Riptide frowned. "Not sure the liaison would go for that either Storm"

Swerve sighed dreamily. "Just imagine wrapping those soft squishy bits all around you though... bet they'd feel amazing..."

"SWERVE." Magnus's warning tone silenced the cheeky bartender immediately. He turned back to Rodimus with a sigh. "Despite certain... Curiosities, directly engaging an organics such a manner would be unwise, dangerous even, not to mention our form are much larger and could harm a human."

Rewind nodded gratefully at Magnus, relieved the subject was shifting. But the mischievous glint in Swerve's optic suggested his teasing wasn't over yet. It was going to be a long night indeed.

"Relax Mags I'm just riling these drunk mech up. Unless you're interested in our sweet little ambassador" he teases, making other bots choke on their drinks.

Ultra Magnus's icy glare could have frozen Swerve's energon. "Need I remind you this conversation is highly inappropriate and unprofessional," he said sternly.

But to everyone's surprise, Rodimus let out an undignified snort of laughter. "As if Magnus would ever break protocol like that! He'd probably recite the entire Autobot code of conduct while fragging."

The whole bar erupted in howls of mirth at the mental image.

Swerve was nearly rolling on the floor. "Can you imagine?! 'Paragraph 3, subsection B clearly states interfacing with sentient aliens requires prior diplomatic clearance forms in triplicate!'" he cried in a mockingly stiff voice.

Skids were wiping away fuel tears. "Primus if MR. RULES AND REGS ever broke the rules, it'd be one for the history archives!"

Riptide jabbed Skids in the side. "Ten shanix says he'd have them memorising regulations the whole time!"

"Twenty shanix says they'd run screaming first!" Swerve shot back.

The bets and ribbing escalated as more mechs joined in. Across the table, Rodimus shoved Magnus playfully. "C'mon Magnus, live on the wild side for once!"

Magnus's rumbling huff was the only response. Watching his rigid commander finally loosening up filled Swerve with delight. Somehow, some way, he'd find a way to get Magnus to break protocol yet! It was shaping up to be the best night ever.

"Ohhh let's make this fun. I list some bots and you say if you think they would hook up with a human" Riptide states. "Rung, Drift and Ratchet" he calls out the names.

Swerve let out a dramatic gasp. "Ooh spicy!"

"Rung is definitely curious but way too professional. Might let loose over a couple cubes of engex though!"

Skids broke into hysterics at Riptide's suggestions. "Rung and a HUMAN?! Rung doesn't even touch his OWN interface panel!"

Rodimus snorted. "Can you imagine? 'My dear, it seems you're experiencing some psychological interfacing blockers. Please, tell me how that makes you feel.'"

"Drift guy's definitely intrigued by other species, if you know what I mean. Plus he's artsy so he'd probably appreciate the 'aesthetic'." Swerve responds

"Drift might go for it, he's open to new experiences," Rodimus mused with a grin.

Brainstorm nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed, his spiritual philosophies suggest an openness to cultural exchange that others may lack. I think if he and ratchet weren't together its something he might try"

"Ratchet. bah! As if that grumpy old rust-bucket would try anything so illogical. Unless she's a doctor too and starts quoting his favourite protocols... then all bets are off!" Skids laughed.

"Ratchet? Nah, too much of a hard aft. He'd just bitch about human biohazards the whole time," Swerve giggled.

"Well if Drift was interested I'm pretty sure that mecn could get ratchet to do anything with the bat of his optics" Rodimus remarks.

The table erupted in raucous laughter. Swerve took a playful bow. "Alright bring on the next victims!"

Riptide rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, how about...Tailgate, Cyclonus, and Whirl?"

Swerve cackled wickedly. "Tailgate would be way too nervous but he'd try for his Conjunx Cyclonus. Cyclonus would 100% use his broody vibes to charm her pants off but only for Tailgate. And Whirl? He doesn't interface, he destroys! So that liaison better watch her interfacing ports around that lunatic!"

Chromedome interjects stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Tailgate would be way too nervous and shy, I think. He'd probably short-circuit just from holding hands!"

Riptide nodded. "Cyclonus has always struck me as the kinky type. Wonder if he's into those squishy bits like Brainstorm thinks..."

"Whirl would frag anything that moves," Rodimus interjected with a grimace. "But I don't think an organic would survive the experience!"

Brainstorm stroked his chin. "Indeed, Whirl's interfacing protocol subroutines seem rather...enthusiastic. Consent might be a fleeting concept. Better to observe from a safe distance."

Swerve shuddered. "Ugh, don't make me picture that psycho getting 'friendly' with a human! I'm tryna keep my fuel down y'know."

The names continue being dropped.

" First Aid! I don't know if the medic-bot's got it in him to break the rules. But I betcha if he did, he'd be real gentle and caring-like. He'd have them feelin' better than new in no time!"

Skids grinned devilishly. "Yeah but would they feel better? Aid's so straight and narrow I bet he'd put em in stasis lock from boredom!"

"Now Perceptor on the other hand..." Swerve tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Bookish type, but you know there's a passionate scientist in there waiting to experiment. Think he'd go slow and methodical, really take his time 'exploring the specimen'."

"his thirst for organic sciences might overpower his good sense," Rewind remarks.

“optimus prime, Prowl and bumblebee ” Chromedome interjects with his own inquiries.

Swerve pretended to wipe away exhaust fumes. "Primus help me, this is gonna be good... Optimus Prime is obviously Mister Morality himself, but you know he's got a secret wild side under all that virtue signalling. Just imagine how freaky he could get with some alien nookie!"

The bar erupted in incredulous, drunken laughter and cheers. Swerve grinned impishly.

"As for Prowl, I'm telling you that stick up his tailpipe is begging to come out and play. One roll in the berth with a naughty fleshy and he'd loosen up reeeal nice!"

"And Bee? He's a sweet kid, but you know what they say, it's always the quiet ones! Between his cute lil' face and that tight chassis, he'd have the human lining up to frag that glitch right into stasis!"

The bar absolutely lost it, bots falling over each other in drunken hysterics. Even Mirage was struggling not to fall off his chair. Swerve took an exaggerated bow as his audience howled.

"Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all cycle! Now who's ready for the next round?" More shouts and clanking glasses answered his call. It was shaping up to be the wildest night at Swerve's yet!

Magnus dropping Megatron's name that really sent them over the edge.

"Megatron?! With the liaison?!" Rodimus howled with laughter, nearly spitting out his drink. "That's the funniest thing I've heard all cycle!"

But Swerve wasn't done. "Megatron? Now THAT'S an image! 'You pathetic fleshbag, you DARE try to mount the great Megatron?! Grovel before my interface array!'"

Magnus adds more information which makes everyone surprised " He and the ambassador are rather close" He states

Rewind speaks up from Chromedome’s side. "Y'know... they do have a certain chemistry. I'll bet under all that scowling and chipped armour there's a softie just waitin' for the right tender touch to melt his spark. And they have got sass to spare bet they could handle Megatron's brooding and snarl!"

"Twenty shanix says he'd have them trembling and beggin' for mercy in no time flat!" Skids bet eagerly.

"You're on!" crowed Riptide. "But I still think Perceptor's the real dark horse..."

#transformers #rodimus #transformers x human #megatron #transformers idw #transformers x reader #transformers lost light #transformers megatron #mtmte swerve #chromedome #mtmte rewind #ultra magnus #valveplug

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hometoursandotherstuff · 1 month ago

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This stunning 1905 mansion in Chicago, IL is not in the best neighborhood, East Garfield Park, but someone who lives in Chicago said that it's not bad enough to warrant such a LOW price. Someone has applied to buy it, and it's only been on the market for 18 days, but they are still showing it in case the deal falls thru. 6bds, 3.5ba, 5,832 sq ft, $485k. FYI: Systemic disinvestment in communities like Austin, East Garfield Park and West Garfield Park has led to population loss and gentrification over the years.

Look at this entrance. The millwork is phenomenal, the floors are original, and that burled wood! Plus, look at the brass railings.

Isn't this original working fireplace magnificent? Look at the arch and the mosaics.

It needs a little cleaning, polish, and it will be stunning. The lighting is also original.

The foyer. You know, call me crazy, but it can't be that bad of a neighborhood if no one broke into those original glass doors.

Just look at these arches. Wainscoting, too. The floors are original.

This dining room! The tile floor, built-ins, fireplace, and that raised nook. Just wow. It's being sold as-is, but hey. All it needs is some cleaning up, it's all original.

Isn't this different? I wonder what this is. Maybe a stage for a small chamber music ensemble to entertain the guests?

The kitchen was redone at some point, but it's not terrible. (It's the same footprint, maybe the tile is original, counters are marble.) You can work with it.

This large room has a gorgeous fireplace, built-in shelving and leaded glass windows.

Check out the home office shelving and fireplace. Even the original mirror is intact.

The wood is so dry- it really needs some oil and maybe a coat or two of preservative.

This home deserves some TLC. Looks like they replaced some walls here. This is nice and light- beautiful fireplace and built-ins.

Oh, I love this big, vintage bath. This is amazing.

The bedrooms are very large.

This bath looks like it has a black marble sink. Not bad at all.

Looks like they put some shelving around this fireplace.

The attic level is finished. There's a fireplace up here, too, and look at the arches.

This bath is in good condition.

Someone started to finish the basement, so there's so much potential here.

Porte cochere.

They don't show any gardens, but the lot is 9,375 sq ft.

The street doesn't look that bad- nice big front porch. The 2 story coach house in the back can be an apt., guest house, or art studio. I think it's a steal.

History: The home was built by a gambler-

https://www.redfin.com/IL/Chicago/3234-W-Washington-Blvd-60624/home/13261182

#mansions chicago #mansions #houses #house tours #home tour #historical homes #homes under $500k

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piratefishmama · 11 months ago

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Fake it till you Make it | Part 21

Eddie wouldn’t necessarily call himself poor. Yes. He lived in a trailer park. But he wouldn’t necessarily call himself poor. He had money, he made bank on being weird for the women of Hawkins, he’d made an easy quick buck dealing back in his high school years, and he had many marketable skills that could get him some kind of menial labour kind of job.

Barback, auto repair, retail, manual labour, and of course, music among the few.

So he was never really poor enough to see moths fly from his wallet in place of cash, never poor enough to miss meals on purpose to save money, or to worry about where his next meal was going to come from while hunger gnawed at his gut.

But being able to just. Walk through a supermarket, without having to look at the price of things before putting them into the cart?

That was a level of financial security that he’d not yet attained, and yet there he was. After being given a second cart for himself, and being assured that he could get anything he thought he and Steve might want while John would grab things for himself and Lynda in his own cart, he was set loose with the simple instruction to meet at the checkouts, John would wait for him if he ended up there first and vice versa.

Eddie didn’t think he’d be finishing first though. There were options. He had options. He didn’t have to look at prices, he didn’t have to grab the cheapest things on the shelf, or look for things reduced in price cause they were about to expire.

He didn’t even have to do mental mathematics for taxes because it didn’t matter!

The only thing he had to worry about, the only thing that made Eddie completely certain in the fact that he’d be making John wait for him at the checkouts, was figuring out what Steve might want to eat without making it way too obvious that he didn’t actually know Steve all that well at all.

He was really starting to wish that he’d just sided with Steve about the pizza.

Okay so, contrary to popular belief given his whole. Keg King persona back in high school. Steve Harrington… couldn’t hold his drink.

At least not anymore. He couldn’t even do a hand stand anymore.

Before, he’d been a killer at it, he could drink and drink and drink, he was like a fish with it, king of the drinking games, lording it over the popular crowd as if it were something to actually be proud of, as if it were a genuine accomplishment to be able to out drink your peers.

But he didn’t drink anymore. At least not nearly as often as he used to.

Alcohol was expensive, and he worked minimum wage.

The most he could do was a six pack from the gas station that he and Robin would split out on a picnic blanket in his back yard, staring up at the sky with nothing but the glow of the pool lights to dim the stars above, laughing about their failed conquests and making plans neither of them could really afford to see through.

Back to the point, Steve, and Lynda Harrington, had found ol Mags’ stash of cheaper reds.

Not quite the big bucks bottles lining the shelves of the wine cellar which Steve, despite them being his now thank you very much grandparents and their ridiculously generous will, wouldn’t touch, but definitely heavy hitting enough to lighten any terrible lows that may have lingered after their earlier spat.

Which led them to their current predicament. Laying on the rug in the living room in front of a crackling fireplace, two glasses of wine between them, and two half empty bottles.

One each of course, they weren’t going to share just one, what were they? Poor?

Steve, feeling curious about a thing that’d come up once as a small, throwaway thought, now the only thing he could think about as he stared at the wooden beams that made up the ceiling and having zero inhibitions stopping him from asking it, so he asked, “How come you never brought up Robin?”

“Hm?” His mother turned to him, cheeks flushed a warm pink, she never could hold her alcohol, he’d gotten that skill from his dad, however fleeting his use of it had been. “Your friend?”

“Yeah, Robbie’s great, why’d you never… why’d you never try’n set me up with Robbie, wh’ts wrong with Robbie?” He didn’t think she meant to laugh quite as condescendingly as she had, but it definitely sounded like that as she burst out laughing. “Tried every girl but Robbie—s’not funny!”

“Oh, sweetheart, my little baby boy, Eddie… Eddie is lovely. You’re not… not thinking of leaving him for Robin are you?” That slight infliction on her name, what was wrong with Robin?! And then— “B’cause, cause… Jesus—baby, sweetie, you’re not— she’s not—it’s not… hm.” She looked at her almost empty glass as if it’d offended her, then placed it down to look at him again “It’s s’not my place… if you don’t know, s’not my place to tell you!”

“What do you know?” He pushed himself up onto his rear, shaking his head for a moment to clear up the spinny feeling that followed him moving “I—I know everything, Robbie tells me everythin but you… you don’t—what do you know about Robbie?”

“Pfft, sweetheart if you want a chance with Robin then, I’m sorry you’re definitely not aware of everything and that’s surprising, does she know you’re… you know… safe? To talk to I mean? You seemed so close I thought she’d have told you!” Granted, half of the words she was saying were slurred, but not slurred enough that he couldn’t make them out, and they were ringing all the alarm bells his brain could possibly conjure.

What did his mother know, and how had she found it out? “I don’t, I just—I was just wondering why you never—I thought maybe you didn’t think she cut it or something stupid, she’s told me everythin but that doesn’t explain why you know… or what you know, what do you know?”

And now his mother was up, sitting up straight doing the exact same thing as him, shaking off that little spinny spin the world decided to do as she sat up too fast. “Robin is perfect, Steven. Truly a one of a kind, kind of young woman.” The slurring had reduced the more serious she’d become, as if the alcohol couldn’t quite touch the severity of what they were now talking about “she also doodles quite obscene things on her shoes. I saw them in the rack not the last time we were home, the time before it? When she stayed the night? Those ratty old canvas things she wore covered in marker scribbles… most young ladies don't doodle breasts on their shoes, and they certainly don’t write about going 'down' on someone’s sister… I… figured it out. I also know that this isn’t something we should be talking about without her being aware of it.” Or at all, really.

She was right. As usual, his mother was right, he even knew she was right about the pizza, he always broke out a little after Tony’s, a few spots would always appear around his mouth that’d drive him insane, so he knew she was right about the groceries too, but yet…

It was so hard to admit that she was right.

“She uh… she was talking about what you guys were doin before we came out here y’know?” But if his mother knew about Robin then… maybe it wasn’t bad to talk about it. His mom regarded him with a curious expression but didn’t ask him to elaborate, didn’t stop him from elaborating either though “the matchmaking thing? I was complaining about it, cause… y’know… I had someone already” no he didn’t, but the excuse of ‘they all sucked’ probably wouldn’t go down very well. “And she said she wished you’d try setting her up with someone…” it was probably a joke but then…

Robin had been struggling.

The uncertainty in approaching queer dating in a small town like Hawkins was… scary. It was terrifying. They were only getting older, there’d only be so many more chances to experience things and trying to experience things later in life while being a big ol bundle of inexperienced anxiety?

Not fun, Steve didn’t want that for Robin. He wanted her to experience things. To be confident in herself because he loved her. He wanted nice things for her. And nice things involved kissing pretty ladies.

“Really?” Oh that little lightbulb, the devious little twinkle in her eyes, her passion reignited, aimed at a much more deserving and probably receptive target “Oh! Sweetie she should have said, second we get home, give her my personal number, okay? It’s up to her to call me but I would— I have a rolodex of names, an it’ll only the best for—for Robin.” Lynda would find that girl a hot sugar mama even if it killed her.

“You’d do that for her?” Steve put a hand to his chest, touched in a way he couldn’t really describe.

“Oh sweetheart, of course I’d do that for her, she makes you so happy, you just… you light up whenever you’re around her an I know it’s not cause you’re dating her because, unless there’s another conversation we need to be having, you’re really not her type. I know she makes you happy. And I know—I know I don’t say it very often—” her voice was wibbling, and oh boy if she was going to cry, then he’d start crying and they’d be a mess “but I’d—" her voice cracked, oh no “I’d move mountains for—for anything—anyone that makes you happy, sweetheart.”

And that was how Eddie and John found them ten minutes later after shaking the snow from their bodies, grocery bags in hand. The mother and son duo bawling together on the carpet, two bottles into the reds, wondering a very simple “what the fuck...?” voiced by a very confused Eddie.

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #Robbies gonna get HOOKED UP when they get home #i promise

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neosartorya · 8 months ago

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So i was thinking about the whole solarpunk chobani oatmilk ad (as depicted here) and a comment someone made in a different post (that I now can't find) where they said something along the lines of (paraphrasing) 'the marketing people at chobani being unable to imagine a future where their brand had ditched single-use containers in favor of a sustainable alternative'. And I started thinking how will food packaging look like in the solarpunk utopia?

Modern food packaging responds (mostly) to the needs of the globalized supply chain, where food products need to be moved great distances without being damaged and while taking up as little space and energy as possible. Packaging also needs to be made of the cheapest materials available, hence the preference for disposable containers made of light materials (cardboard, plastic, aluminium, paper, etc.). You don't want your package to be worth more than what it contains (although with some food products, that is close to being the case).

The comment I referenced earlier suggested using reusable glass containers as an example of a sustainable alternative to single-use containers. That makes sense, and there is historical (and current) precedent for such kinds of food containers. Just ask your parents (or grandparents, I guess) how milk used to be delivered to homes in the good ol' days.

In a more recent example, some places still use reusable (returnable) containers for products such as beer and (even!) Coca-cola, where you pay an initial fee for the container and get reimbursed once you return it, or you can exchange the empty container for a full one by paying the price of the product minus the container fee.

This solution, however, is still within the framework of the global supply chain of modern capitalism. In the solarpunk utopia, the goal would be to reduce (reuse, repair, recycle) the breadth of our current supply chain by prioritizing local consumption and disinsentivizing long-distance trade.

This train of thought led me to the question of wether processed, pre-packaged food would even be a thing in the solarpunk utopia. After all, if we are trying to consume only what is locally sourced, one of the main purposes of preserved (and thus packaged) food goes away. No need for bottled orange juice when you can just go to the commons bin and grab a kilo of fresh oranges to make your own.

Further, once there is no capitalism, the "convenience" angle of processed, packaged food also appears to go away. You don't have to work 9 hours a day, 6 days a week anymore. You have the time and resources necessary to make your own damn fresh orange juice, so why bother with the bottled stuff?

Well for one, not everything is as easy and convenient to do by yourself as orange juice. Fermented foods (cheese, wine, beer, soy sauce, even pickles and yogurt), bread and pastries and cakes, carbonated drinks, jams and marmalade, butter, mayonnaise, cured meats and fish, and (yes) almond milk are all tricky to make properly, take a long time to be made and/or are energy and resource intensive. The need for these kinds of foods will remain as long as we are human and find pleasure in eating and trying new things. Also, the need for mass-produced food does not go away with capitalism, after all we have a population of 10 billion humans with different dietary needs that need to be fed. Food safety standards must still be enforced and probably will be even more stringent when corporate profits are no longer standing in the way of progress.

To add to this, a localized supply chain will make food preservation even more important. After all, if you want your population to survive mostly on what can be produced in a 100 km radius, you will have to prepare for food scarcity. Droughts, floods, earthquakes, blizzards, accidents, and even just regular ol' winter (once we've rescued it from the clutches of climate change) don't care how solar your punk is. They will wreck your food supply and your utopia needs to be ready.

So the need for packaged food will remain. The need for food that can stay in a cupboard undisturbed for months (if not years) and remain edible (and reasonably palatable!) will continue to be there.

With all this in mind... what does food packaging look in our solarpunk utopia? Single-use plastics have gone the way of the dodo, as have single-use paper, cardboard, aluminium, glass, and steel. What has replaced them?

I have some ideas, but this post is already ridiculously long, so I'll save them for later. All I'll say for now is I think glass containers are not the way to go. Glass is heavy, fragile, a poor thermal conductor (so heating and cooling processes with glass containers are energy innefficient), and takes up a lot of space. It is also very resource and energy intensive to produce and recycle (so not the most environmentaly friendly in that regard either).

What does a reusable aluminium container look like? That'd be cool I think.

#food science #solarpunk #long post #rant #science #gradblr #my posts

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sseomtada · 9 months ago

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being [ruben dias]

your move to Manchester signifies a triumph - the result of nearly a decade of relentless, hard work. However, your sweet victory is quickly turned sour when you reencounter the person you once deeply loved.

a/n: remade secretly only to be back on my bs...here's to praying for me to finish this fic? | 1/??? | 4191 words

This weather was nothing short of an utter atrocity.

It was the kind of bone-chilling freeze that overpowered even your skin's ability to raise its own flesh. Every ounce of energy repurposed instead to turn that evolutionary feature inwards. A futile effort, at least in your case. Even back home in Amadora, you suffered from genetic lack of internal warmth.

Miserable environment aside, the move would be worth it. Everything that you’ve done for the past few years - nearly a decade of sleep deprivation, being the brunt bearer of power trips and clinging to the slimmest sliver of rarely presented opportunities - had led to this.

Not the brutalist view spanning the length of your new floor to ceiling living room windows, but what it signified. Growth. The expansion of your firm here, in Manchester.

“Estou exausta…”

You pulled your eyes from the endless clouds to see your right hand, Aki, draped limply over the last of your boxes.

“Careful.” You bent to rip open the tape sealing the one near your feet.

“Oh, sorry.” She blew her overgrown bangs up to no avail. “Am I crushing your precious CB2 ceramics?”

“Actually, you’re slowly sinking onto my very sharp surgical steel kitchen knives.” The box cutter in your hand gestured vaguely to the label beneath her hips.

Aki’s yelp echoed off through the empty loft as she sprang from the impending mockup of a medieval torture method. Your laughter joined in when she grimaced and muttered something threatening to the thick cardboard that remained dent free.

“Thanks for helping me with all this.” You exhaled. “I owe you.”

“We’re even when you think about it.” She fetched a box opener of her own.

Your eyes widened. There was never a moment in your lifelong friendship when she didn’t take up on an IOU card. Not even when she purposefully served a suspension for knocking the lights out of a girl who blew gum into your hair in the fifth grade.

“I mean, you brought me along with you to open Bana. Full executive package, no less.” Aki beamed and then sneered upon unboxing her newfound arch nemeses.

That was true. Since she was the company’s Head of Finance, her immigration to Manchester was completed covered. Housing located right across the hallway, a brand new car of choice and an increase in salary to accommodate for the higher price of living wasn't the worst package to receive.

It didn’t feel like much of a repayment for her efforts when all things were considered. Bana wouldn’t be close to what it was today if it wasn’t for her. Any business was only as successful as how well they manage their finances, an aspect that she can solely and proudly take credit for.

Not to mention that you both would be extremely busy while trying to fully establish this new branch. If anything, she at least deserved the building’s penthouse suite for the headaches bound to come throughout this journey.

“So…is that a pass on the 1982 Bruno Giacosa?” You dangled the proverbial carrot.

Aki didn’t miss a beat, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Getting ready for your first day at the office never felt this good.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that your first ever job was, understandably, anxiety inducing. Being an intern for a well-known marketing firm wasn’t known to be a glamorous position - the multitude of reasons for that not stopping at being a coffee gopher.

After climbing the ladder to a mid-level position within your previous company, it became painfully obvious that the older leaders had no intention of making room for you soon. To eradicate any dreams of that from your mind, they even outright said it.

That led to your next go at a first day, the start of your own consultancy which would then go on to become Bana. Even though you had established your presence in the marketing world and had a few loyal clients, no amount of seminars you’d attended or books you’d read could’ve prepared you for the monster of a task you’d taken on.

This time felt different. There was always going to be an element of nervousness when stepping into a new venture. Even though this was a new branch on a tree you knew well, there was a lot to learn about operating in a new country and little time to do so.

What you had now, however, allowed you to convert that nervous energy into excitement. Experience, establishment and esteem. Those things among the equally as important trustworthy team behind you left you more confident than anything else that this could potentially only be the beginning.

“There better be a good reason why you’ve got me out early on a morning like this.” Aki’s poor facial muscles have yet to relax since the move it seemed. This time their scrunch was due to storm clouds looming in the distance.

“I think our very lovely AD has something exciting to share.” You nodded to give her the go ahead.

“Ladies, as you know I’ve been working on getting us an in with a certain business through my various sources and I’m happy to report that Bana was among the firms selected to pitch.” Cindy could barely contain her excitement.

Her optimism was infectious and part of the reason you recruited her. Another reason for bringing her into the fold to establish the new office was the insane network she had.

The blonde Londoner was in a similar predicament to you when you were starting out not long aog. Even hungrier, if you admitted it. Her former employer didn’t see the potential she clearly possessed, so you had no problem poaching her from them.

“And do we finally get to know the name of this state secret level business?” Aki leaned forward.

“Nike!” Cindy couldn't hold back any longer.

Even your face dropped at that. Not in the way that one’s expression would if they just found out that they’d been rejected from their dream school. It was something akin to finding out you’d won a fucking Oscar.

Among the celebratory cheers and shimmies, you thanked Cindy greatly for her hard work. And although it was a moment of uncontainable joy, the wheels had already began to turn in your mind.

There was absolutely no room for error if you wanted this pitch to be chosen. Being a newer firm undoubtably going up against major competition, Bana’s proposal had to be more than just that.

It had to be a statement. One that said you were not only a major player in this field, but that you also were to be seen as a direct rival.

You got to delegating tasks quickly. The sooner you got the bare bones of the pitch down, the quicker you could work on perfecting it. Aki was on budgeting as always - pricing presentation materials, researching and pricing the estimated budget for the product rollout for Nike.

Cindy was mostly on recon regarding the target audience. The product being launched was a new pair of their iconic AirMax, so you anticipated her using historical data as a guideline.

You’d have to do a fair bit of research yourself - getting into market research, the brand’s positioning and messaging - all while putting your firm’s spin on where you think Nike is hoping to go with this launch.

It was needless to say that the midnight oil would be burning. You set up a co-working space in the conference room to make communication seamless in brainstorming and building. This was the energy you missed so much, and a more sentimental reason behind your expansion.

Back home in Amadora, Bana was a well oiled machine. With a strong staff beside you, the hands on aspects of marketing were placed on the back burner by your own doing. In order for your employees to grow, you had to let them lead projects of their own and you trusted them to do so.

Now, you were back to inhaling concerning amounts of dry erase marker fumes and getting carpal tunnel from extensive mood boarding. That along with a side of meal deliveries and an equally as hard-working coffee machine made the long hours seemingly fly by.

“I’m so tapped, I need to power down for the day.” Aki stretched her back dramatically.

“Feel free to head out too, Cindy. Get some well deserved rest.” You took a moment of your own to release tension in your neck. “I’m good here for the next few hours.”

She was visibly grateful to be given the go ahead to clock out. From past experiences, you were able to sympathize all too well. You also made a mental note to have a conversation with her regarding working hours. There was never going to be an obligation of staying behind under your watch.

Cindy and Aki neatly organized materials for their return in the morning while you made your way to your office to continue outlining. With all of the research required collected, all you had to do at this point was place the information into their allocated areas.

There were three short raps at your door before you called her in.

“Still being here wasn’t exactly what I meant by rest, Cindy.” You chuckled, not looking away from your monitors.

“I’m on my way out now! Just wanted to bring you over the client mailing list I got from my source a minute ago.” She slid a USB drive onto your desk.

Your brows raised appreciatively, “Thank you, really. I mean it when I say that your presence here is essential and invaluable.”

Cindy waved a hand, her head shaking in time.

“I’m just happy to be helpful. See you tomorrow!”

You bid her goodbye and immediately got to taking a look at the information she left behind. It would be very useful in filling in some gaps you needed to flush out ideas that would attract the goal audience for the new product.

Influencers, Performing Artists, YouTubers…Athletes.

The last of those categories was obviously a given considering the brand. It also wasn’t the first time you’d come across that group in your line of work. This time though, seeing the label suddenly formed a knot in your stomach.

You were brought back to all of the avoidance in the aftermath - everyone in your life completely air-gapping the football world from your path. They did that to protect you, a gesture you still couldn’t bring yourself to thank them for verbally.

The mouse beneath your hot palm slowly shifted as you moved the cursor to click and expand the list. That knot grew to the size of a boulder. It squeezed your insides painfully within and forced a broken little noise past your lips.

One look at the name Ruben Dias was all it took to rattle you to your core.

o passado

At the age of seven, you moved to Portugal.

There wasn’t much you missed about your hometown, or even remembered for that matter. All you knew was that you were eerily calm for a child whose entire life up until that point had been uprooted. It was possible that your serene state of mind came from your mom.

She was all you had in the world. There was virtually no relationship had with her family - the only photograph you ever had with your grandparents was at your christening.

When it came to your dad, she put it as kindly as she could for a kid. You were smart enough to read the inference in her tone and the look on her face in the handful of moments he was brought up. He wasn’t in your life because he didn’t want to be.

Yet still, none of that made you sad or shaped you into a person defined by traumas. You intended to live the life that your mother encouraged you to. Be a kid, climb trees and get dirty, make friends along the way.

And that was just what you did. The first of them being the girl in your class that waved you over to the empty seat beside hers when you transferred. My name’s Akenna, but I hate it so I make everyone call me Aki instead.

She was the only person other than your mom who made you feel safe enough to confide in, just as easy to talk to as it was to listen to her wild recounts of her own life story.

Aki quickly became a regular in your home and you in hers. The giggles and secrets held in the various forts sprawling from your living room to bedroom would stay under lock and key until long after you both passed.

The next person you met would be the one who arguably shaped you the most. Loud shouts and tussling with a ball in the neighborhood park with his siblings was where you met Ruben. His tattered football rolled to your feet that touched the ground after you’d leapt from the swings.

With a weak kick, you returned it. Ruben shook his head in disapproval before he shot it right back at you. Try that again, with the left this time. You didn’t know if it was anger at being challenged by some random kid or genuine hidden talent, but when you hit the ball with your instep, it flew powerfully and directly into his own.

She’s on my team!

Inseparable wasn’t a strong enough word to describe you two. After finding out that you lived only one house down, he would come to your school to walk with you back home. On many of those occasions, Aki was there too. Your mom would be waiting with snacks and a warning, don’t play too long out in the sun, patifes.

Somewhere and somehow along the years, you and Ruben had become so close that it seemed you two were dating. Ivan jokingly asked one day as you were sharing a vanilla ice cream cone, ew, are you boyfriend and girlfriend? Ruben grabbed your hand, laced your fingers with his, and simply said, yes.

And that was that.

As for when you began to realize you loved him, that was harder to pinpoint. Maybe it came once you began to notice how helpful he was to you and your mom.

Ruben was always willing to lend a hand with repairs around your house, even if it meant searching up how-to videos when he thought you weren’t paying attention. Or how he’d go out of his way to walk your mom home when she worked night shifts.

Aki often griped and rolled her eyes at how you two were making her feel like a third wheel. Those complaints were always quickly followed with rebuttals that she’d spent a grand total of fifteen days as a single girl since she was thirteen.

Just make sure my maid of honor dress isn’t fugly at your wedding.

It was all but a given that marriage was pending in the future for you two. Ruben never had eyes for any other girl and you…God, you were terribly devoted to him. Even your posters of Justin Bieber found themselves catching dust in the closet, replaced by a collage of photos you and Ruben had taken together over time.

Five years saw graduations, proms, college acceptances and many, many firsts experienced together. His arms were the only man’s you’d ever laughed in, cried in, slept in. His eyes were the only one’s you saw when you closed your own. His lips were the only thing you wanted to taste on the good and bad days, and everything in between.

So, what happened on September 15th 2017?

To this day, you still had no answers to the why behind that question. Nor could you allow yourself to wrack your brain for them any longer should you want to hold onto your sanity.

As for what. Simply put, it was the worst day of your entire life to date.

On the eve of his debut for Benfica’s first team, an event he’d dreamt of and worked so hard for, one that become just as significant to you by extension, Ruben broke up with you. Over the phone, no less - which added humiliation onto a violent erupting volcano of destructive emotions.

Cold turkey, brutal, cruel. It’s over, don’t contact me, I don’t love you anymore.

There were no warning signs, no moments in retrospect left unturned during your spiral, that could’ve possibly made what you read true. You initially thought it was some sick joke. Maybe one of his teammates had taken his phone. Or perhaps there was some girl that wanted him and was jealous that he was yours, so she decided to play dirty.

It was none of that or the million other scenarios you came up with on you walk over to his home. You came to learn that it was, in fact, not a joke. Ruben meant it when he said he was done with you.

He made that painfully clear as he looked at you standing under the faint glow of the lantern on his front porch through the window. Those eyes you once dreamt of fondly seemingly someone else’s as he drew the curtain and shut off the light.

You don’t recall much of time that passed in the months following that night. Every now and then you’d get flashes - Aki crawling in and out of the bed you temporarily became one with, your mom scooping you up to help you bathe and wash your hair.

It was better that way, you think. A blessing in disguise to not be able to clearly recall the most devastating period of your existence.

When your memory resumed, it always picked up at the same place. You siting with Aki on the steps of an abandoned subway station in total silence.

In your mind, you were there with him years ago when the line was still functioning. The rush of the train brought wind along that rose your hair like lightning was about to strike. Ruben grinned toothily as he smoothed it back, tilting your face upwards.

He said I’d always be home when I was with him. Where am I supposed to go now?

The silence returned even louder following the question that neither of you had the answer to.

Instead, you sat there in it with your best friend and shed the last tears you ever would over Ruben Dias.

o presente

Seven years was a long time.

It came with two college degrees, laser focus and an ability to compartmentalize so strongly that it would terrify artificial intelligence.

Whatever threatened to upend you at the sight of his name was snatched up and contained to be dealt with sometime in the future. You didn’t put literal blood, sweat and tears into your career to let one old wound derail it at such a pivotal moment.

With the same vigor you scrapped up to move on with your life, you poured every ounce of energy you had into absolutely nailing your pitch. Five all nighters, thirty six edits and ten complete run throughs later resulted in Bana being chosen as the firm to brand the newest AirMax.

“I always knew you were a genius, but this project was just,” Aki kissed the air as she took the next left to drive back to your shared building.

“Team effort, Aks.” You mumbled.

The thing about throwing yourself entirely into one project was that when the hard work was done, all the was left was the shit you were avoiding. You could feel it there, gnawing at the back of your head like a mice on a fresh piece of cheese.

“What if we watched an old coming of age movie like we used to on nights like this? Pop out some wine, get in our pj’s…real wild stuff.” She nudged your elbow with hers.

You casted a fond glance at her. Aki would never come outright and say it, but it was her way of checking in with you. The client mailing list was no secret to her since she needed it for the budgeting, so there was no way she missed him being on there.

The mice grew hungrier. Throughout all of your breakdowns and pain, she held all of hers in unselfishly and arguably stupidly. You weren’t the only one who lost someone important to you on that night.

“We do that after product launches. The deal has only just been sealed.” A smile was managed to form on your end.

“Ah…best not jinx it then, huh?” Aki blew a raspberry.

In order to keep her worries at bay this time, something you silently promised to do ever since your senses had returned, you squeezed her arm and doubled down.

“Besides, I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in nearly three weeks. I think I’ll just go for a short run, take a shower and hibernate.”

She nodded, liking the sound of that plan. You would’ve felt proud of your disarming skills had you not known the real reason for her shoulders relaxing. She was looking forward to having the next two days off more than anyone else.

“Don’t forget to text me when you get back.” Aki stuck out her pinky.

“Always.” You locked yours in tight.

The repetitive beat of your feet meeting the ground had the ability to still your mind nearly as much as pouring yourself into your work did. Left, right, left, right, left. When you added in the accompanying swing of your arms, the constant reminder to keep your breath in control and music that made you feel like you could punch a hole through a wall - you were nothing short of a machine.

It was one of the healthier coping mechanism you’d clung to back home. Every day, you’d take to the streets of the new neighborhood you moved to and then to the track at you university.

You’d gotten so good at it that you were scouted to run for the school’s team. Going pro was never a part of your plan, though. You only accepted the offer because it came with a free ride.

A drop of water hit your face, but it was cold.

Your treads slowed a bit as your eyes turned skyward. The clouds illuminated against a murky purplish background with the warning of distant lightning approaching. You refocused and pumped your legs faster. Fucking Manchester.

In between your songs transitioning, you heard a faint rumble. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the sound distorted by the headphones muffling your ears playing tricks that twisted the noise to sound partially human.

Whether it was or not, you weren’t trying to stick around to find out. It was late at night and the weather was going to get hellish soon.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted a shadow ripping behind the streetlights - closing in on yours with each meter. Lactic acid built painfully in your muscles as you pushed even harder, breath control thrown to the wind.

It was gaining on you while rain began to fully fall.

Within a matter of seconds, which is all you had, you came to a decision. You were too exhausted from sleep deprivation and being nearly an hour into your run to beat whoever was chasing after you. The only option you had now was to steel your nerves and use the keys in your pocket as a last line of defense.

Your right hand blindly reached down and was met with lint. Terror hadn’t been felt until that very moment. A thousand and one scenarios raced through your mind with you reaching for the ones that would allow you to leave this situation at least narrowly unscathed.

The one you got a firm grip on using the element of surprise to hopefully distract them from whatever intentions they had for an instant. You took one last deep breath before spinning around swiftly and throwing out a fist.

A man in a baseball cap dodged the punch to his credit, albeit not very ideal for you. His balance, however, was in your favor. He slipped on the slick sidewalk and landed flat on his back with a pained groan.

You were the last thing you should’ve been given that you’d been granted an escape - frozen. On your behalf, you would’ve been halfway down the street and barreling towards your building had it not been for the wide eyes staring up at you.

Those eyes…Ruben’s.

#ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x you #being

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labeteenmoi · 3 months ago

Text

Kings of the Subura

Part 1

Fandom : Those About To Die

Pairing : Tenax x OC

Warning : slavery, violence, mentions of rape, sex

Summary : Slaves are easily bought but then have to be dealt with

What made him wander around the slave market that day, he could not say. Somehow, a dark and bruised human form caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

"Now this one should be firmly handled for she’s kind of a wildling," the slave merchant loudly claimed as he pushed the girl to the front of the stage in a rattle of chains, "beware of your throats!"

Tenax hold his stance as the lean creature rose in front of a suddenly quiet crowd. Chained both at her wrists and feet, her black dishevelled long hair hardly dissimulated the bruises and swellings on the tanned skin of her face; and the ripped dress could not cover the shades of purple marks on her arms and thighs, and yet, there she stood tall and proud, glancing at the crowd with a ferocious disdain in her clear eyes.

"I’ll take no claims," continued the enormous bald merchant, "as I’ll let you have her for the cheapest price: fifty sesterces!"

The crowd gasped in surprise, both appealed by the bargain of such an undersold slave, and worried by the aftermath of having around such a dangerous looking thing.

"Oh, come on people, have no fear, even wild animals can be tamed! Look at her, a Lusitanian, hardworking people these are! Don’t let yourself be fooled, she speaks the language," the man kept on, a hint of anxiety slowly rising in his voice.

But no hand arose from the now timid audience for what seemed an eternity.

"Twenty!" Finally claimed a man’s voice in the back.

Some astonished faces turned around to see Tenax rising a finger at the merchant, a confident smile on his lips. The merchant recognized him and his angry look from such a ridiculously low offer slowly faded into a somehow submissive expression before declaring:

"Twenty sesterces for Tenax, yes! Please come take your belonging."

As she was being pulled down the stage, she glared at the man who approached to stand in front of her. Despite her disillusioned expression, he narrowed his big, piercing blue eyes, searching her face with a serious look as the sign from around her neck was removed.

"I’d keep her chained if I was you, Tenax…" the fat slaver whispered as he handed him the key. Tenax took it but did not bother to answer and imperiously grabbed his slave by the arm before leading her through the crowd which parted as he advanced.

The chains on her ankles were barely long enough to allow for any real strides, so she almost jogged through the streets of the market square to keep up with the pace the man set for her. Not once he looked back at her, all she could see was his curvy brown hair on the back oh his head, and the tight grip of his hand on her arm.

A few turns further and they entered a tall building as she had only seen on her way through Rome with the men that had transported her from the port of Ostia directly to the market. It wasn’t a house; it was several houses in one. Tenax lead them upstairs and through another heavy door into what looked like a real house this time. The room was vast, adorned by a large table and wooden benches around. There was a small corridor on her left that led to other rooms and a closed door at the opposite side. He took her towards the table and flipped her over to face him.

It took her a few seconds to have her sight accommodated to the dim light of the place despite the window behind them, but as soon as her eyes crossed his, she regained her composure and fiercely held his gaze.

"Sit." he dryly said.

She did not move. A cold smirk grew on his face as he advanced closer and pressed a hand on the base of her neck.

"I said sit." he threateningly repeated, pushing her firmly.

Unbalanced, the girl fell heavily onto the wooden bench behind her and angrily looked up at a smiling Tenax. However, the knife hanging at his belt suddenly caught her attention making her stare; it didn’t go unnoticed.

"Do you know what happens to slaves that kill their masters?" He asked in a heavy tone, crouching before her.

Only silence and furious glances responded to him.

"They are crucified," he said. "Hanged on a large wooden cross outside the city for the crows and flies to feast on and the men to laugh at. If they try to run away, they are left to their master’s will." He paused for a moment, observing a slight wavering in her eyes.

"I would probably get more than my money back selling you as fresh meat to the wild beasts of the Circus Maximus," he resumed, now almost whispering. "or as amusement for the gladiators perhaps… Do you want to take a shot at any of those?"

She was giving in; he could sense as her head tilted a little. With a now satisfied smile, he reached for the key in his pocket and bowed a little more towards the chain holding her ankles. She looked with disdain at the man: how on earth could someone consider owning another human being like an object was beyond her. Still, the calm and confidence he displayed were quite disarming. She could tell he was used to be respected and obeyed without too much effort; another man who considers himself above the others, another stinky Roman. However, by the way he had observed her at the market, this one seemed a bit different; unlike the other men she had encountered so far that either looked down on her with disgust or lubricity, he seemed more intrigued than anything else.

As her expression unwillingly soften while lost in her thoughts, Tenax started fidgeting the lock of the chain. His face near her knees, the bruises on her thighs appeared deeper than he had thought. A diminished slave brings in less for the merchants, so they are rarely heavily mistreated unless they are particularly hostile. These contusions were large and fresh from their still purple color and went from the top to the inner thighs. Even if he did not doubt her hostility already, Tenax also knew the slavers had gone far and beyond discipline with that girl.

He threw the chain behind him and looked up at her, her wandering gaze and milder expression, almost sad, laid on him and turned harder suddenly, but not as much as before. Swollen torn lip, black eye and filth created a very opaque mask on her face. One would expect to see a distressed person in this state, but she seemed to make a point of not showing weakness every time he laid eyes on her.

"Good." He resumed, softer than intended. "Now that we are clear on that," he kept on, hardening his tone, "I’m your master and as such, you’ll call me so and obey my commands. That’s how this works for you now."

He paused, waiting for a sign of approval that never came.

In a frustrated sigh he stood up and proceeded to free her wrists. Again, he caught her eyes focusing on the knife now at her sight level, stopping him in his tracks. His sudden immobility rang an alarm in her head but too late to back down; Tenax swiftly reach to her neck and lifted her up against the table, knocking over the bench behind her in a loud crash. He wasn’t smiling anymore, an angry expression on his face with wide open eyes. She instinctively grabbed his wrist to alleviate the pressure, but he squeezed harder instead, making her clench her jaw in pain.

"Do not test my patience," he coldly hissed between his teeth, leaning his face so close she could feel the heat of his skin on her cheek. "Now I want to hear you say it, or I’ll squeeze all the air out of you: are you going to obey?"

The girl did not whimper a sound, a hint of defiance still in her eyes, so he kept on pressing her throat with a growing threatening glance. She soon found herself gasping for air, but he kept on, relentlessly.

"Yes…" she hardly let out in a wince of panic.

Tenax relieved his grasp allowing her to let in some air but did not let go of her neck. His features however remained tensed, only after a last infuriated blue glance he let her go.

"Claudia!" He curtly called out.

An old woman with a worried face suddenly emerged silently from the adjoining corridor, as if she had just materialized at the sound of her name.

"Wash her, and treat her wounds," he ordered without taking his eyes off the girl who was rubbing her neck and trying to catch her breath.

"And the chains, master?" Claudia asked in a neutral tone.

"They stay, until I decide otherwise." Tenax advanced imperiously towards his slave, "Until I consider her trustworthy."

Looking up again, her gaze hardened. The will of this man, determined to dominate her, further fuelled her inclination to resist him.

"Come on girl." Claudia said as she swiftly slipping between them. Grabbing her arm, she gently but firmly carried her towards the closed door, ending their little ego battle.

She let herself be guided without much resistance through the door. On the other side was a spacious bedroom with a large bed against the wall, just as dark as the previous rooms despite the window and the daylight still visible through the pierced shutter, and a small adjoining room that contained two pink metal basins of different sizes in its centre, a large terracotta jar and a few small, closed pots. There were no windows in this room, only a few flickering flames on an oil candelabra hanging on the wall diffused a little light that the ochre-coloured walls diminished a little more. The air there was warmer, almost humid, despite the absence of a door.

Claudia left her on the threshold then grabbed the jar and tipped it into the small basin. Clear water gushed out. Still without a word, Claudia poured a clear powder into the water from one of the pots, then a thick liquid from another. The slave watched her slow and assured gestures in silence; this woman was meticulous, precise. Her face, completely absorbed in her task, showed no fear but rather a sort of maternal worry whose sweetness was exacerbated by the folds of her forehead and at the corners of her eyes.

The girl did not feel threatened by her presence, the man wasn’t there to watch her, so she allowed herself to let go a little. A slight numbness began to invade her as her body seemed to relax, her shoulders sagging and her breathing became deeper, as if her chest was becoming lighter. She couldn't tell if it was the powder’s scent, the soft light, the light rustles of small footsteps on the stone floor and pots gently clinking together, or the lapping of flowing liquids with herbaceous scents mixing, but she let herself be carried away by the slight tingling on the back of her neck. It tasted of serenity, she hadn't felt this way since she had been torn from her home weeks ago, weeks that felt like years already

"These oils will soothe the pain of the blows." the old woman said softly, tearing the slave from her torporn with a slight start.

Claudia looked up, stared at the young girl in front of her for a few moments in silence, then held out her hand.

"Come," she murmured, "come closer."

The slave hesitated at first, but finally came forward. This woman meant her no harm, and the temptation of a real wash was not going to displease her deep down.

Claudia placed her hands on her shoulders and guided her to the centre of the room, gently pressing her to kneel on the thick fabric that decorated the stone floor. She stood behind her, gathering the mass of her long, tangled black hair to push it to one side over her shoulder to undo the coarse knots of the shapeless, dirty and worn dress that covered her back and that slid to the floor around her folded legs. The slave jumped as Claudia applied the cool, oil-scented water to the skin of her back, she gritted her teeth as she delicately rubbed the bruises on her limbs, and in the hollow of her thighs, particularly painful. Her thoughts strayed to the unpleasant memories of the times spent at the mercy of these men who abused her, especially the first time. She clenched her fists, making the chain that held her wrists rattle sharply.

Claudia quickly withdrew her hands, no doubt aware of the torment that was assailing the girl at that moment.

"I'm sorry... for what happened to you." she said softly near her ear, placing a comforting hand on her arm.

The slave exhaled deeply, fighting back the tears that threatened to flood her eyes. Claudia resumed her task, wetting her hair before coating it with a floral-scented powder that she distributed by massaging all over her hair. She tilted her head back to rinse, water running down her face and taking the painful memories with it.

When she opened her eyes again, straightening her head, she saw him. In the space that separated the entrance to the bedroom from that of the bathroom, Tenax was watching her. The light of day behind him was backlighting, she could not see his face, but he could see her perfectly: he saw her suddenly raising her shackled arms on her exposed chest, her face closing and her gaze hardening. There was something captivating about the vision of this fierce creature looking so vulnerable at this moment. Tenax continued to look at her despite her protective moves, not to impose his will on her though, he just could not take his eyes off this beautiful body glistening in the warm glow of the flickering flames. An unusual emotion seized him, suddenly tearing him away from his contemplation and he finally turned around, clearing his throat to regain his senses as he left the room.

Long minutes passed before noise was heard from the bedroom. Claudia came out followed by the girl and found Tenax sitting at the large table, a glass in his hand. He stared at her for a moment: she looked less wild now with her hair clean and styled in a long ponytail. She wore a dark dress tied above each shoulder; Claudia, always so provident, had chosen an item of clothing that did not require removing her chains. Her face now free of her locks, Tenax could finally see her eyes more clearly. That was where her fury resided: despite her opaline green eyes, her gaze under her black eyebrows was dark as a storm. Her expression, however, seemed more peaceful than before, Tenax noted. The vision of her slender body and damp skin suddenly returned to him, he took a sip of wine to regain his composure and chase away these thoughts.

"What's your name?" He questioned without looking at her.

The girl was still staring at him, walled in her silence. Tenax looked up and smiled with a falsely understanding look. With a sigh he got up and walked towards her, ignoring Claudia who moved away as he approached:

"I remind you that I own you now, and you'll do as I say," he said as calmly stating a fact, planting himself right in front of her. "Just accept your fate."

A slight smirk widened the corner of her mouth, Tenax understood that she had no intention of doing so.

"Or don’t!" He kept on before leaning very close to her ear, "But then you already know what I’ll do of you," he whispered. "Be smart, slave," he viciously insisted on the word, "your life could get a lot worse than it already is."

A shiver ran up her spine from the breath on her neck. Or maybe it was the threats, or the disgust she felt at that moment realizing that this damn Roman may have a point after all. She didn't want to belong to anyone, it was against her nature, but was she ready to face an atrocious death or suffer a thousand more torments in other disgusting hands for the principle of not giving up anything to him?

He recoiled slowly, watching her smirk fade from the corner of his eye. He turned around with a satisfied expression, ready to leave the room as the girl seemed lost in thought, weighing the pros and cons of now becoming a well-behaved and obedient property, this man's property.

"Briga." she finally muttered.

She would give in, for now.

Tenax stopped dead in his tracks and turned around slowly, an exaggerated questioning look on his face.

"What?"

She inhaled and exhaled deeply, as if she was gathering all the calm she could muster.

"My name is Briga." she reluctantly repeated more intelligibly.

A slight conquering grin grew on Tenax’s face, he shamelessly exposed it in front of her slave, waiting for her expected irate pout. Once she did, he approached again and grabbed her wrist firmly. Visibly satisfied by the lack of resistance other than her defying gaze, he unlocked the chain and set her arms free.

"Go help Claudia in the kitchen." he proudly ordered.

Claudia broke off their intense exchange of glances again by taking her away.

“Claudia, make sure she doesn’t spit in my food!“ he teased loudly behind them.

Under other circumstances, Briga would have found it amusing.

Claudia brought her some potatoes and onions to peel off, while she would put the meat on the stove.

"You'll see, Tenax is a fair man. Give it time." Claudia said, discretely eyeing Briga’s reaction, but she remained impassive.

When Claudia brought the food to the table Tenax quietly asked:

"How are her wounds?"

"Some will heal quickly, others not..." she hesitantly answered.

Tenax, was expecting a more detailed report, but seeing the worried look on Claudia’s face he asked:

"What is it, Claudia? Speak freely"

She took a breath, anxiously looking at her master.

"She's hurt… and angry…understandably so if I may… What they did to her..." her voice trembled a little. "But she'll calm down, master, with time"

Tenax appreciated the concern Claudia showed for this girl she didn’t even know. She had all the mercy and kindness he lacked.

"I doubt it," he ironically let out, "but I’m more tenacious than she is, don’t worry."

Claudia smiled softly before returning to the kitchen where she served a plate for the two of them.

"Eat, child, you must be starving." She kindly said, addressing Briga with a warm smile at the fatigue she could see on her face.

At his table Tenax kept listening to any noise or voice that he could perceive from the kitchen. She sure would be a tough one to tame, that stubborn girl hadn’t said any more words, even to Claudia who treated her so well. But he was a man of challenges, and his appetite was even the more enhanced by her rebellious behaviour.

"Settle her in her room then you can go home, Claudia." They could hear Tenax say from the other room.

Briga froze, a new shiver ran through her realizing she would be alone in the house with this man. His intentions were still unclear to her, he seemed to live alone, no wife, no family around that would need her assistance. He enjoyed having the upper hand on her, she had well noticed that, but she feared that he would reveal himself to be much more brutal once Claudia would not be around anymore. For a second she thought about grabbing Claudia’s hand and never let her go, but she had already left the kitchen through a corridor. A few minutes later she reappeared and called for Briga. She led her into a bedroom, small but it had a bed, and a window, too small to allow a child’s body to go through it.

"You’ll sleep here, girl. I’ll see you in the morning." Claudia said before nodding gently and leaving, letting her alone with her thoughts and fears.

There she stood, motionless and alert, expecting to hear Tenax enter the room in her back and violently push her down, and be the disgusting man he surely is, as are all Romans; and abuse her, and hurt her like she was nothing more than a doll existing only to satisfy perverted and filthy desires.

A strange feeling suddenly interrupted her running thoughts: there he was, standing behind her at the doorstep, silently, his imposing presence filling the room. Her mind went blank, and her blood ran cold; she was exhausted, and he was strong, there wasn’t much she could do to avoid the inevitable, but she’d be damned if she didn’t try. She closed her eyes, breathing short, tensing her aching body, waiting for it. The door closed, a key was turned in the lock, then the silence. He was gone.

Her body collapsed beneath her as if all her strength had left her at once. There she laid on the hard bed, numb, uncontrollable tears rolling down her cheeks as she fell asleep. Resisting was hard, she had well deserved a rest at that moment.

#those about to die #those about to die fanfiction #fanfiction #tatd #tatd fanfiction #tenax #tenax x oc #kings of the subura #tenax imagine #series #iwan rheon

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6azia · 2 months ago

Text

Blood| Hidan x m!reader

—summary. (Y/N)’s expression didn’t change, though his eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. “You’ll have your chance for bloodshed. Patience is a virtue, even for those like us.” Or (Y/N) and Hidan go out alone w/ opposite temper

—content warning. Lil blood, jashinism(I think), bottom (Y/N), top hidan, forst se-, no aftercare

—word count. ~3,2k

—azia's notes. The smut will hopefully get better and sry posting late forgot

𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯-𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱

The flickering light of a nearby torch cast long shadows on the walls of the old black market outpost. The air was thick with the pungent scent of iron, smoke, and unspoken deals. (Y|N) leaned casually against a wooden beam, his cold eyes scanning the crowded underground marketplace. This wasn’t the usual task he relished-gathering information, cutting deals, restocking supplies for the Akatsuki-but it needed to be done.

Beside him, Hidan huffed impatiently, his scythe propped against his shoulder, clearly not thrilled about the errand either.

“I can’t believe they sent us out here for this,” Hidan grumbled, sneering at the merchants and shady dealers surrounding them. “Weapons and info? This is grunt work. I don’t see why we couldn’t just slaughter the lot of ‘em and take whatever we need.”

(Y|N) took a tired puff of his cigar, an unsettling glint in the tired eyes of his that always seemed to unnerve even his closest allies only looked unimpressed at the Jashinist. “There’s a time for slaughter and a time for... subtlety, Hidan. We need these weapons suppliers alive if we want to stay well-equipped. And more importantly,” he paused, his voice dropping to a whisper, “we need information about Orochimaru’s movements. He’s been slippery ever since he left the Akatsuki. We can’t afford to be rash.”

Hidan scoffed. “You and your damn subtlety. All I hear is excuses not to get blood on our hands.”

(Y|N)’s expression didn’t change, though his eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. “You’ll have your chance for bloodshed. Patience is a virtue, even for those like us.”

The pair moved deeper into the market, the dim lighting creating a maze of shadowed corners and narrow alleyways lined with weapon stands and black-market traders. A few of the dealers eyed them warily. Most recognized (Y|N) immediately—his reputation as a trafficker and mercenary for the Akatsuki was well known in the underworld. Hidan, however, drew attention for an entirely different reason. His imposing figure and the gleaming, three-bladed scythe on his back left no room for doubt that violence was never far from him.

(Y|N) led the way toward a secluded corner, where a large, bald man with a scarred face and an array of high-quality blades spread across his stall stood waiting. He was one of (Y|N)’s contacts, a reliable supplier of rare and powerful weapons. (Y|N) knew he could trust the man to provide what they needed without asking too many questions.

“We need resupply,” He said smoothly, puffing a big cloud out, his voice low and raspy as always. “And you know how I feel about prices. Don’t test me today.”

The merchant nodded nervously, his eyes darting between the merchant and Hidan. “Of course, of course. Same deal as always. High-quality blades, kunai, and some specialty weapons. I’ve got what you need. Just came in yesterday.”

(Y|N) raised a brow, his gaze narrowing. “You mentioned specialty weapons. Anything... exotic?”

The merchant leaned forward, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I’ve got something from one of Orochimaru’s old labs. Don’t ask how I got it, but it’s dangerous. Experimental. Might be useful if you’re looking for an edge.”

Hidan’s interest piqued at the mention of Orochimaru. “Tch, the snake freak. Let me guess, more of his weird science projects?”

(Y|N) stepped closer, eyes gleaming. “Show me.”

The merchant carefully pulled out a small, sealed container from beneath his stall. Inside were a series of small, dark-metal darts, each laced with what appeared to be a faint purple toxin. “Poison-coated. Something designed to paralyse the chakra network completely. No known antidote yet.”

(Y|N) smile widened. “Perfect.”

While (Y|N) inspected the weaponry, Hidan tapped his foot impatiently. “Alright, we’ve got the weapons. Now, where’s this info on Orochimaru? That’s what I’m more interested in. I wanna know where that bastard is hiding so I can offer him up to Jashin.”

The merchant gulped. “Information on Orochimaru... it’s risky, but I’ve heard rumors. Word on the street is he’s set up some hidden lab in the Land of Rivers, experimenting on a new batch of test subjects. Something about creating the perfect vessel. That’s all I know, I swear.”

(Y|N) tilted his head, digesting the information. Orochimaru had always been obsessed with immortality and power, but the mention of a "perfect vessel" piqued his interest. His ties with Orochimaru from the old days still lingered like a ghost, though he had no loyalty left to the snake. If anything, his curiosity was purely strategic.

“He’s experimenting again, is he?” He murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “And he’s in the Land of Rivers... intriguing.”

Hidan growled in frustration. “Enough talk. Are we going after him or not? The Akatsuki wants him dealt with, and I want to tear him apart.”

(Y|N) chuckled darkly. “Soon, Hidan, soon. But Orochimaru isn’t a target we can just rush into. We need more information before we make a move. We know where he is, but we need to know what he’s working on. If he’s preparing something big, we’ll want to hit him at the right moment.”

Hidan rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. As much as he hated (Y|N)’s cautious approach, even he had to admit that Orochimaru was no ordinary target. Still, the anticipation of the coming bloodshed was enough to keep him satisfied-for now.

The two gathered the weapons and prepared to leave the market. (Y|N), ever calm, carried himself with his usual air of eerie control, while Hidan was already imagining the chaos and destruction that would follow once they tracked down Orochimaru.

As they moved through the dim alleys, (Y|N) took another breath and spoke again, his voice low and sinister. “Orochimaru’s obsession with immortality has made him reckless. The more he experiments, the more mistakes he makes. And mistakes, Hidan... those are what we’ll use to bring him down.”

Hidan grinned, his bloodlust barely contained. “I don’t care how we do it. As long as I get to see him bleed.”

(Y|N)’s cold eyes glinted in the shadows. “Oh, you will. But not before we get what we need from him. Patience, Hidan. This is a game of serpents, and only one of us will survive.”

As the two Akatsuki members disappeared into the misty night, the black-market dealers whispered amongst themselves, fearful of the violence that always seemed to follow the Akatsuki duo wherever they went. Somewhere in the Land of Rivers, Orochimaru was already preparing his next twisted experiment, unaware that the shadows were closing in around him.

The mission to track down Orochimaru had stretched far longer than either of them expected. Days turned into weeks as they traversed the desolate forests of the Land of Rivers, inching closer to Orochimaru's elusive hideout. Along the way, the tension between the two Akatsuki members shifted in strange, unexpected ways.

At first, their relationship had been purely one of necessity. (Y|N)’s calculating mind, always several steps ahead, grated against Hidan’s impulsive nature. Where Hidan sought the immediate satisfaction of blood and chaos, (Y|N) lived for the slow, methodical game. It was a dynamic that kept them clashing. But over time, something began to change.

In the stillness of their nights on the road, as the moonlight filtered through the trees and the crackling of their campfire provided the only noise, Hidan found himself watching his partner. The way the older man’s dark eyes flickered with an unfathomable intelligence. The way his pale hands moved with unsettling grace as he prepared poisons or sharpened his blades. The way he basked into the smoke of his expensive cigars. The way the smoke danced from his plump lips to his imposing figure. There was something hypnotic about (Y|N)’s calmness, his eerie confidence in every situation, that drew Hidan in-though he would never admit it.

One night, as they set up camp, Hidan threw his scythe against a nearby tree and sat by the fire, his frustration more palpable than usual. “This is taking too damn long,” he growled, rubbing a hand through his silver hair. “We’ve been out here for weeks, and still no sign of that snake bastard.”

The other whitehead sat across from him, a small smile playing on his lips as he lightened himself another cigar. “Patience, Hidan. Orochimaru is a slippery one, but he can’t hide forever. The longer we wait, the more careless he becomes.”

Hidan glared at him. “You and your patience. I’m getting tired of this game. I need something-literally anything-to keep me from going crazy out here.”

(Y|N) looked up from his bingo book, his gaze locking onto Hidan’s with that unsettling calm. “Going crazy? Or are you just craving blood again?”

Hidan snorted. “You think I can’t handle a little waiting? I’m not some child who needs to be distracted. It’s just that... all this sneaking around, it’s not my style.”

(Y|N)’s smirk deepened, his eyes glittering with amusement. “No, it’s not. But maybe that’s why you’re so fascinated by me.” He blew a small cloud to the Jashinist.

Hidan’s expression darkened, his fist clenching at the insinuation. “Fascinated? By you? Don’t flatter yourself, old man.”

(Y|N)’s voice lowered, almost to a whisper, as he leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving Hidan’s. “Oh, I think you are. You’re drawn to things you don’t understand, Hidan. You crave destruction and blood, but there’s something about control—about subtlety—that intrigues you, even if you won’t admit it.”

Hidan opened his mouth to retort, but something in (Y|N)’s gaze made the words die in his throat. There was a tension between them that hadn’t been there before. Something unspoken, simmering beneath the surface.

Hidan shifted, uncomfortable with the strange heat building between them. “You think you know me? You think you can analyze me like one of your little experiments?”

(Y|N) chuckled softly, the sound dark and almost mocking. “You’re more predictable than you realise.”

That was enough to set Hidan off. He stood abruptly, crossing the small distance between them and grabbing (Y|N) by the collar of his robe. “You think I’m predictable?” he growled, pulling (Y|N) closer. Hidan's nostrils filled with smokey and earthy smell of (Y|N), unknowingly memorising it.“Then why don’t you tell me what I’m gonna do next, huh?”

(Y|N)’s smile didn’t waver, even as Hidan’s grip tightened. His voice remained low and calm, like a snake coiled and ready to strike. “You’re going to kiss me.”

The words hit Hidan like a punch to the gut. His eyes widened in shock, but his grip didn’t loosen. Instead, his breath quickened, the intensity of the moment pressing down on him like a vice. He could feel (Y|N)’s calm heartbeat under his fingers, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, Hidan didn’t know what to do next.

And yet, the tension between them was undeniable.

With a low growl, Hidan yanked (Y|N) closer, their faces inches apart. His mind was racing, but his body moved on instinct. Without thinking, he pressed his lips against (Y|N)’s in a fierce, almost violent kiss. It wasn’t soft or tender; it was raw, a clash of heat and intensity as their lips collided.

(Y|N), to Hidan’s surprise, responded in kind. His lips were too hot at first, but they cooled down quickly as the kiss deepened. (Y|N)’s hands slid up Hidan’s arms, pulling him closer, and for a moment, the two of them were locked in a battle of control and surrender. It was a power struggle, just like everything else between them, but this time it was played out in the intimacy of their kiss.

Hidan’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions-confusion, anger, desire-but he didn’t pull away. His grip on (Y|N)’s collar loosened, and his hands moved to the back of (Y|N)’s neck, pulling him even closer. The kiss grew more intense, more desperate, as if they were both trying to prove something to each other through the sheer force of their lips.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they broke apart, both of them breathing heavily. Hidan’s eyes were wild, his heart racing. He couldn’t believe what had just happened, and yet, at the same time, it felt inevitable.

(Y|N), as usual, was calm. His dark eyes gleamed with that same eerie amusement, though there was a flicker of something else in his gaze-something darker, more primal. “I told you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re predictable.”

Hidan, still breathless, glared at him. “Shut up. That didn’t mean anything.”

(Y|N) chuckled softly, his fingers brushing against Hidan’s neck before pulling away. “Whatever you say, Hidan. But you and I both know... this changes things.”

Hidan’s fists clenched, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t have the words, didn’t have the energy to argue. All he knew was that something between them had shifted, something that neither of them could ignore. He could still taste Isa on his lips, could still feel the heat of the kiss lingering between them.

(Y|N) stood, smoothing out his robe as if nothing had happened. “Rest up. We’ll continue the search tomorrow.”

Hidan watched him for a moment, his mind still reeling from the kiss, but he said nothing. For once, Hidan didn’t have a retort, didn’t have a smart-ass comment. He just stood there, feeling a mix of emotions he didn’t fully understand.

As (Y/N) walked away, disappearing into the shadows beyond the fire, Hidan felt a strange pull in his chest. It wasn’t love-he didn’t believe in that crap;but there was something between them now, something that couldn’t be undone.

And for the first time, Hidan found himself craving more than just blood. (Y|N) took the hint and stepped closer; their bodies now flush against each other. Both letting a sight slip out at their proximity. It wasn’t unusual for them to be close to each other, however the unsaid promise of more hung heavy in the air.

”I really fucking hate you, old man” Hidan breathed out and gripped the hair on the back of (Y|N) head. The laters head got pushed back, exposing the tender flesh to the Jashinist. “Just try to be quiet” was whispered around the exposed flesh and a moan was pulled off the old man’s throat as Hidan parted his thin lips to lightly suck on the blemished skin.

The cigar fell out of (Y|N)’s hands but he didn’t seem to care. His hands gripped the front of Hidan’s cloak, trying to get the warm material off him. Hidan only chuckled and unexpectedly bit down on the place where the neck and shoulder met. He stayed in that position even as (Y|N) tried to push him off and even insult him, which didn’t really happen often.

Hidan’s color started to change and the two started to feel the desires of the other more pronounced. “Hah-didn’t think I would do that now, old man” Hidan mumbled on the latter neck while lapping on the hot blood oozing out. (Y|N) tried to keep his composure but it was hard when feeling every little thing his partner felt. Hidan’s hard on was pressing against the others, his hips moving experimentally and nearly buckling in from the immense pleasures. It was one thing feeling his own pleasure; but feeling the others too was something else.

“Hurry up!” (Y|N) breathed out impatiently, hooking his now free hand on the other's waistband. Hidan let a groan out and started to kiss other parts of (Y|N) neck.

After struggling with their clothes Hidan caged the older man more, letting their hard dicks stimulate each other.

“Shut up” Hidan muttered, too fixed to not crumble from the fireworks of his feelings. He hooked one hand around the other's leg, so he would get access. (Y/N) could only take a small shallow breath, not expecting Hidan sudden thrust. The whitehead stayed still by the sudden burning sensation and the other frowned at him. Their faces are contoured by pain and pleasure alike.

Not long the accumulated pre from the top let him move slowly, however he didn't get far with (Y/N)’s leg hooking around him. So he stayed still to let the other adjust. At that peaceful moment he swore quietly while rocking his hips to his ability. With that earning a deep moan in return and a mind numbing he knew they both shared. “P-please, move” His partner mumbled barely audibly. Hidan only huffed and gripped the leg which was trapping him with, accidentally, too much force.

His mind still hasn’t wrapped around the fact that he would feel every single thing he would do to the other, so naturally knees buckled at the feeling of someone breaching him and gripping him with a strength he didn’t know he possessed. It nearly made him let go, however the pained expression on the other let him continue. “Hah- don’t be such a pussy. Can’t even handle a bit of pain?” Hidan managed to hiss, what surprised him was the tight squeeze from (Y/N).

“Fuck-What a sick fucker you are, I bet you would get off if the Akatsuki saw you like that” The white head chuckled. (Y/N) closed his eyes in shame and slowly tried to rock his hips. His cock could even feel a hint of warmth, however it couldn't compare to his hot face while they did this sinful act. Hidan didn’t even really start to thrust and (Y/N) already cummed on their remaining clothes, without much warning.

Just as he wanted to swear he was hit with the same back arching pleasure. With a deep thrust he emptied himself. The both of them were left with a warm fuzzy feeling. While (Y/N) was just basking into the afterglow, Hidan let him nearly collapse.

“Help would be nice, ya know!” (Y/N) tried to frown and look intimidating. Hidan let a huff out and looked down at the once serious man, who now is looking with a beat red face and big eyes at the slowly normal turning skin of his. Hidan really could get used to having someone looking at him with such eyes and not robot-like ones that wanna kill him at every minute.

After coming down he looked down at the now sitting partner and he realised if he focused enough he could even see some dried tears in those once sharp eyes. Hidan only smiled at this and went to lie down too, deciding that being the best solution with (Y/N) still cock drunk.

The sky was already dark, so why not sleep a bit and just pray to Jashin-sama that no enemy shinobi tries to rob them. Or should others come, Hidan really needs some more sacrifices. With one last thought the white head's eyes grew heavy and he fell asleep into a dreamless dream, without a second glance at the other.

#kinktober #naruto #bottom male reader #dark content #hidan #akatsuki #jashinism

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lixzey · 25 days ago

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the start of everything

2016

1: young half bloods ✔️

2: newbie ✔️

3: luke castellan learns a valuable lesson (he gets distracted, most of the time)

4: strawberry fields, wildflowers, and annoying boys

5: Oh, I don't know why she's just my type

6: rivalries and farewells

7: leave me alone

8: planning committee

9: thanks, i guess?

10: snowball fight

2017

11: capture the flag: luke led us to victory!

12: What the hell is a promposal?

13: volleyball matches and cocky little shits

14: Delphi strawberry services

15: cheeseburgers and barbies

16: to charm the charmer

17: forts and birthday cake

18: do you really want another black eye?

19: a letter from dear old daddy

20: awkward

21: if i ignore it long enough, it’ll disappear, right?

2018

22: new years, new beginnings

23: as friends, right?

24: you’re my kid now!

25: moonlight rendezvous

26: a picnic and eavesdropping siblings

27: grouchy

28: birthday picnic

29: pegasus horseback riding

30: junior year

31: sweet sixteen

32: she’s not

33: hot cocoa, longing glances, and mistletoes

2019

34: school is boring, wanna go somewhere?

35: love is in the air

36: Home

39: You are in love!

37: the best swordsman at camp and a furious maya williams

38: that brainless idiot

40: interventions, stubborn idiots, and annoying siblings

41: to be young and in love in new york city

42: your hand fits in mine like it’s made just for me

43: golden apples and worries

44: i’m sorry, forgive me

45: demigod pick up service

46: on with the quest

47: and in the middle of my chaos, there was you

48: love you every minute, every second

49: flying shoes and leaf piles

50: planning 101

51: turkeys and apple pies

52: christmas traditions

2020

53: all of the city lights never shine as bright as your eyes

54: it’s tradition, baby!

55: Some days, you're the best thing in my life. Sometimes when I look at you, I see my wife

56: love languages

57: Jesus, I can see my own funeral in their eyes

58: road trip!

59: Great to be back

60: farmer’s market

61: strawberry cookies and public displays of affection

62: end of another summer

63: suspiciously quiet

65: christmas tree farm

64: orders from the pit

2021

66: just normal days

67: you’re too good to be true

68: tricksters

69: happiness always comes with a price

#luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan #fic masterlist #maya and luke masterlist

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voraciousvore · 10 months ago

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Candy and the Beanstalk

I wanted to write something light and silly and fluffy, since I've been writing so many dreadfully dark stories lately, so I put my OCs Candy Caramello and Martin Maneater into a classic beanstalk story. No actual vore in this one, just cute g/t fluff and some mild sfw romance. Enjoy (I hope)! :3

Word Count: 3.9k

They came from the sky, draped in remnants of clouds. Nobody knew how, or whence, or what they were, other than the fact that they vaguely resembled beans—beans with an exotic iridescent sheen, pulsing with a rainbow parade of luminescence. Upon their initial discovery, in a fallow dirt field, they drew considerable attention and curiosity. As obvious magical objects, they fetched a high price among buyers eager to discover their secrets.

Unfortunately, these buyers were soon disappointed to find that their fortunes had been wasted. Not a single person could get the beans to grow, nor could they extract any magical properties. The kaleidoscope of lights that displayed on their smooth surfaces gradually faded to a dull, lackluster brownish green, just like any other bean, with only the occasional spark of light to betray their original appearance. The mysterious beans from the sky soon faded into obscurity as people lost interest, deemed nothing more than a hoax or scam.

Out in the countryside, far away from the hustle and bustle of major townships, lived a humble peasant girl by the name of Candy Caramello. She was a very sweet and pretty girl, blessed with lovely blue eyes and long blonde hair, but she was also as dumb as a box of rocks. She lived with her parents on the family farm and worked as a milkmaid, with big milkers of her own to match. Regrettably, she wasn’t good for much else beyond the simplest tasks, especially with how clumsy and accident-prone she tended to be, so her parents didn’t have high hopes for her. She spent her days daydreaming about boys as she milked the cows and fed the animals.

One day, one of the older cows stopped producing milk. Candy brought this unfortunate news up to her mother. “Mom, the cow’s broken. Her udder’s all shriveled up.”

“Well, the cow’s of no use to us anymore. Take it to the market to sell it for its meat and hide,” her mother ordered.

“Really? Me?” Candy replied with surprise, twirling strands of her lustrous golden hair around her fingers. She usually wasn’t assigned much responsibility.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? She’s bound it muck it up,” her father whispered. Mrs. Caramello shushed him and sent her daughter on her way.

“She’s got to learn eventually,” her mom sighed, once she was out of earshot. “We can’t treat her like a baby forever.”

Candy skipped along the dirt path to town, excited for a new adventure as she led the cow by a rope. Her blue eyes sparkled with joy as she beheld the scenery: undulating fields of grain, majestic old oak trees, fresh green grass, fluffy white clouds glowing with sunshine. She walked over a stone bridge and watched fish dart around in the sparkling waters of the river below. The cow impatiently pulled on the rope to hurry her along.

She entered the market, and was immediately distracted by all the new sights and sounds and people. Stalls lined the streets bursting with fruits and vegetables, colorful textiles, hand-crafted goods, and a wide array of exotic baubles and trinkets. Candy forgot about selling the cow as she browsed goods that she had no money to buy.

“Hey, you! Wench!” a gravelly voice called from the entrance to a dark, deserted alley off to the side.

“Hmmm?” Candy turned her head and walked toward the sketchy area, oblivious to the potential danger.

“Is that cow for sale? How much?” the voice rasped. A shadowy figure, cloaked in midnight blue garments, crept out of the shade from the brick walls that hemmed in both sides of the narrow passage. He was a lean, tall man with a sickly mien.

“Ummm… what’s your best offer?” Candy inquired. She had no idea how much she was supposed to sell the cow for.

“I have something that might interest you…” A gnarled hand emerged from the folds of the cloak, holding a small drawstring bag full of small lumps. “Magic beans!” He opened the bag and pulled out a bean to show her. To Candy’s amazement, the bean flickered with light.

“Magic?” Candy’s eyes gleamed. “What do they do?”

The mysterious individual hesitated, as if not anticipating the question. “Uh… they’ll make you rich! Fabulously rich!” Candy looked at the stranger blankly. Money was fine and dandy, but not what her heart truly desired. Sensing her apathy, he changed tactics. “Or… they’ll help you find true love!”

Candy, being the hopeless romantic that she was, lit up. “Really? All that for a cow? Why? How?”

“Erm, don’t worry about that. Just, uh… follow your heart and look to the heavens and you’ll have your answer!”

Candy agreed to the deal, and traded the cow for the beans. As she left, the stranger muttered under his breath, too quiet to hear, “What a fool… those beans are useless…”

On her way home, Candy pawed through the bag and examined the beans. None of them had that special spark or sheen that she witnessed earlier, but she wasn’t deterred. She believed in the magic with all her heart. She couldn’t wait to plant them and see what would happen. Would they bloom with fantastic buds, opening to reveal a handsome prince? She nearly squealed with joy at the thought. She entered her cottage home just as the sun was beginning to set, bathing the landscape in orange twilight.

“Mom, Dad, look what I got for the cow!” Candy proclaimed, holding up the sack of beans triumphantly in her hand.

“What’s that? Gold coins?” Mr. Caramello asked.

“No, even better! I got beans! Magic beans!” Candy poured the beans into her hand so they could see. Her parents stared dumbly at the dull pile.

“Please… tell me you’re joking,” her mother uttered in disbelief. Candy gave a slight shake of her head, clueless. “Candy, you clod! You traded an entire cow for a handful of beans?”

She snatched all the beans out of Candy’s hand and threw them out the window. “Empty-headed simpleton! You got scammed! You wasted a perfectly good cow!”

“I told you this would happen,” her father muttered. Mrs. Caramello elbowed him hard in the side, making him grunt. Candy hung her head, dejected. She wanted to shrivel into the floorboards and disappear. She tried her hardest to please her folks, but somehow she always messed everything up. Her best was never good enough for them. She fought back tears.

“Ugh, just get out of my sight,” her mother said with a disgusted wave of her hand. Candy turned around with a despondent slouch and obeyed, dragging her feet out the door.

“Don’t you think you’re being too hard on her, dear?” Mr. Caramello murmured, once Candy was out of earshot. “She can’t help it that she’s so stupid.”

“I’m just sick of her being such an airhead! She needs to get her head out of the clouds and grow up!” Mrs. Caramello spat back with frustration.

Outside, Candy walked over to the beans scattered in the soil and plopped down on her knees. Sniffling, she scooped the beans up into her hands with some crumbs of dirt and gazed down at them sadly. They didn’t glow, stubbornly insisting on remaining a bland monochrome green. She poked her fingers in the dirt and scooped out a hole, then planted the beans and tucked them in with a pat of her hands. She kept her hands in place, sitting in the dirt as the sun sank below the horizon, quenching its fire into the earth. Her remaining energy died with the light.

With a laborious sigh, Candy went back inside the house, avoiding her parents and laying down in her bed to sleep. A trickle of melancholy dribbled into her core as she huddled on her side and stared at the wall. She was desperate to please; at the end of the day, she just wanted to be loved and held. She wanted a caring man, big and warm, to wrap his arms around her and tell her that she wasn’t useless. She wanted to feel precious and special, beloved and cherished, rather than being such a worthless disappointment. Candy shivered, pulling the bedsheets up to her chin, and fell asleep.

Little did she know that the beans, hidden beneath layers of earth, were radiating multicolored flashes. They had awakened from their long-dormant state with a burst of fire. Candy’s sweet touch had brought them to life. Like Arthur pulling Excalibur from the stone, Candy had something special that the magical beans patiently sought.

While she slept, a fresh green sprout emerged from the ground and reached for the sky, twisting and looping in a rapid ascension. Tendrils swirled in spirals and springs around each other as they lengthened and expanded in scale. Leaves grew from tender buds into magnificent foliage large enough to lay on like a mattress. The stalk thickened and swelled, transforming from a thin vine to a pillar to a massive verdant structure, broader and taller than the biggest redwood trees.

Candy woke up early, as was her habit, to let out the chickens and milk the cows. When she walked out the door into a dark shadow, she turned around to behold the gigantic beanstalk towering above her, above the house and surrounding countryside, impossibly tall, so high up that she couldn’t even see the top as it disappeared into the cloud layer. She stood there and gaped in astonishment, not believing her eyes. She wondered if she was still dreaming as she slowly stepped up to the plant and placed her palm on its glorious green surface. It was real. The magic was real.

She craned her head back to gaze up into the sky. The words of the bean seller popped into her head. Follow your heart and look to the heavens. When she initially heard those words, she thought he meant to pray for divine intervention, or have faith or strength of spirit. Now, however, the words took on a whole new meaning. Clearly, she was supposed to literally ascend to the sky, via the magical bridge created expressly for her.

The task before her was daunting, but Candy was firm with resolve. She dreamed, in her most honeyed fantasies, of finding true love. The ceaseless desire burned in her so strongly that she feared she would turn to ash if it were not satiated. She didn’t know what could possibly be in the sky that would aid her in her quest, but she was determined to find out. She took a deep breath to steady herself before beginning her journey. She gripped a coiled vine in her hand and started to climb.

At first, scaling the beanstalk was fun, reminiscent of a joyful childhood climbing trees. As the time stretched on, though, Candy’s optimism waned and her muscles began to ache. The labor became arduous. As the atmosphere thinned with the great height, the air chilled and the wind bit through her light clothes. The verdurous shoots of the beanstalk were soft and feathery in some parts, hard and sharp in others, digging into the skin on her hands. Whenever she grew weary, she rested on one of the many giant leaves. She didn’t want to stay in one place for too long, though, since she still had a long way to climb.

Candy considered giving up, but at some point she realized it would be just as hard to return to the ground far below. The distance was dizzying; Candy was just grateful she wasn’t afraid of heights. The beanstalk occasionally swayed in the breeze, making her cling with a death grip to the leafy vines until the stalk steadied again. When she needed a distraction, she admired the view. She could see for miles around. The farmland below, from such a grand height, looked flat, since none of the objects below could compare to the colossal twisting tower.

Candy entered the cloud layer, where the air was moist and frigid. The initial wisps of cloud thickened into heavy white puffs that produced dark shade. Candy was tempted to curl up when the cold ice particles surrounded her, and her hands met crusts of ice on the foliage, but she forced herself to continue. Finally, she emerged from the cloud layer, back into the brilliant sunshine.

Her eyes just about boggled out of her head when she surveyed the cloudscape around her. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t an entire alternate world up in the clouds. There were trees, and flowers, and a garden, and even a charming cottage close by. Candy cautiously tested the surface of the clouds and was surprised to find them pleasantly firm beneath her feet, like solid earth. She hopped off the beanstalk, stretched her weary arms, and headed towards the nearby cottage.

She immediately discerned that something was amiss as she grasped the true nature of her surroundings. The grass was tall, easily as tall as she was, and the flowers towered over her head. The trees stretched up into infinity, their branches and leaves fading into the blinding mist higher up. Candy gawked over a fallen acorn as big around as a barrel of ale as she walked past it. The cottage at first glance appeared close, since it was such an immense building, but was actually quite far away.

Candy faltered as she recognized just how shockingly huge everything was, especially the house. Who could possibly be large enough to inhabit such a vast structure? Fear flooded her heart, yet her curiosity and desire ultimately won out. She believed in the magic of the beans, even more so as she beheld such impossible, remarkable sights. She felt, in her heart, she was destined to come here—as the bean seller had promised her, to find love.

She cautiously approached the cottage, marveling at the inconceivable scale of it all. Up close, the house was so large that she couldn’t take it all in at once. She stumbled over some pits in the ground, failing to notice that the ridges taken as a whole formed a giant bootprint. She reached the door, which stretched hundreds of feet above her head, and gazed up at it in wonder. There was no way she’d be able to open it on her own, but she was small enough to crawl underneath it, through the gap between the door and the floor. She slipped inside, her heart racing.

The inside of the domicile would be rather average-looking, if not for the size. Candy found herself on a huge, scratchy welcome mat that nearly matched the square footage of her cow barn back home. She stepped over the threshold and onto a boundless stone floor. As she walked forward, with her diminutive shoes clicking on the stone, a tremendous masculine voice boomed from somewhere inside the house.

“FE!”

Candy stopped dead in her tracks at the enormous voice. The loud sound was followed up by a substantial thud, then another, and another, which Candy recognized as the rhythm of giant footsteps.

“FI!”

The steps rapidly approached, nearly knocking Candy over with how much they vibrated the floor. Her heart jumped into her throat. Logically, she knew she ought to run, but she was petrified in place.

“FO!”

The source of the disruption made his appearance, rounding a doorframe into the room. He was a giant man, hundreds of feet tall, with stormy gray eyes, short dark hair, and a sturdy build. He thundered toward little Candy, who was too stunned to move.

“FUM!”

His boot slammed down next to her. At her height, she wasn’t even tall enough to reach his ankle. He kneeled down, looming over her.

“I smell the blood of an Englishman!”

Candy gasped as a gigantic hand, with fingers thicker and longer than her entire body, overshadowed her. She finally snapped out of her paralytic state and turned to run, but she had no chance of escape as the fingers closed around her in a fist. She watched the floor drop away below as she was lifted up to the giant’s face so he could get a better look at her.

“Er... Englishwoman,” the giant corrected himself, once he was able to see her closer. Candy gazed up at his huge face, into his soft gray eyes. He had a prominent nose, full lips, and a forest of stubble around his mouth and chin. Other than his size, he didn’t look menacing or evil. As a matter of fact, Candy found him to be strikingly handsome. Perhaps even the most handsome man she had ever seen—the kind she fantasized about all day while she milked the cows, when she imagined her perfect man.

“Hmmm, I’m in the mood for a sandwich,” the giant rumbled to himself, standing up with the tiny woman in his fist. Candy wasn’t really listening to what he was saying. She was spellbound. She felt her face warm up with him so close, so huge, all around her. His fingers wrapped around her body as warmly as she pictured the arms of her fictional lover last night. Was this the man she was supposed to meet? Her true love? Sure, he was enormous, and not quite what she had expected, but true love conquers all, right?

The giant, oblivious to her thoughts, got out some slices of bread, meat, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and condiments, and started prepping his sandwich. Humans weren’t common up in the sky, and he hadn’t eaten one in a long time, so he was looking forward to a rare treat. He thought it odd that she wasn’t struggling in his fist or pleading for her life, as humans normally did when he threatened to eat them. Maybe she was too frightened. She was shaking a bit, after all.

Candy rested her elbows on his finger and held her chin in her hands with a dreamy gaze. “What’s your name?” she asked.

The giant was confused by the question, and her placid demeanor, but dutifully replied, “Martin. Martin Maneater.” He paused midway through spreading sauce on his bread. “What about you?” Why am I asking this girl her name, when I’m just going to eat her anyway? To be polite?

She giggled, her face flushing at the attention. “Oh, I’m Candy. Candy Caramello! It’s lovely to meet you!” Martin blinked, increasingly baffled as he looked down at her. She wasn’t afraid of him at all. In fact, she had a rapturous look that was enthusiastic enough to make him blush. A woman had never looked at him quite like that before. And gosh, she was pretty cute too… just his type: blonde, blue-eyed, busty, and completely adorable.

“Um…” Martin suddenly found himself tongue-tied. What was wrong with him? He was supposed to eat her, not fawn over her! And yet… and yet… his heart was singing in his chest with a thrumming rapid enough to make him lightheaded. He abandoned his sandwich and sat down in a chair at the dining room table, loosening his grip on the little lady since she apparently wasn’t going to bolt.

With his mind drawing a blank, he asked the first question that popped into his head. “How did you get here, Candy?”

“Oh! I planted some magic beans and climbed a giant beanstalk! It was amazing!!” Candy chirped as she twisted a strand of golden hair around her finger. She caressed Martin’s giant finger with her other hand, reveling in how warm and soft his skin felt on hers. Martin blushed again at the physical contact. He liked it more than he cared to admit.

“Ah, the beans… that makes sense…” Martin muttered. “They only grow for special people, you know…”

“Is that so?” Candy said in a seductive tone, batting her eyes at him. Martin’s heart jumped as she twirled playfully in his loose fingers.

“Y-yeah… they only grow for a human of exceptional stock, one that is… especially tasty.” The giant raised a brow, curious to see how the woman would take this information.

She didn’t skip a beat. “Awww, so you think I’m tasty?” Candy flirted with a wink. The literal meaning of his words seemed to be lost on her. Martin couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’m sure you are,” he teased back, running his tongue over his lips.

Candy’s eyes lingered on his lips longer than he felt comfortable, as he felt himself drooling over her scent. “The bean seller told me I could find true love with the magic of the beans!” she blurted out. Martin raised his eyebrows with surprise.

“Oh! Uh… hmmm… that’s interesting…” Martin stammered. What was he supposed to say to that?

“Can I kiss you?!” Candy’s abrupt intensity was shocking.

Martin reddened. “K-kiss me?”

“That’s how you find out if someone is your true love! You have to kiss them!” Candy insisted. “That’s how it works in the fairy tales!”

Martin’s tongue tripped over his words as he became increasingly flustered. He was about to deny her assertion, tell her love didn’t work that way, but… her little face and body, resting in his hand, made his chest swell. He wanted to kiss her, badly. He was lonely, living in the clouds all by himself. He wanted a woman to love, to call his own, and here she was, literally sitting in the palm of his hand, begging for his affection. How could he possibly refuse?

“O-okay. Sure. Yeah.” His heart pounded in his chest as he raised her up to his lips. He was tempted to scoop her up into his mouth, being the man-eating giant that he was, but he politely refrained and puckered his lips gently. He pressed his plush lips to her tiny body, feeling every soft curve she had to offer. She kissed him back, her touch light and soft. He could feel her excited heartbeat pulsing in her chest. He pinned her down in his palm with rising ardor as he leaned into the sensual kiss. He could even taste her incredible caramel sweetness as his tongue touched her body. She was divine. His entire body burned with a sudden fiery passion that radiated from her touch on his lips all the way down to his toes.

He could hardly tear himself away when he finished kissing her. He craved more. She lay flat on her back in his palm, hot and slightly soggy, her cheeks red as a rose and her eyes glistening with stars. She looked like a tiny angel.

“I-I think you’re the one, Martin,” she uttered breathlessly. “That was amazing.”

“Mmmmm, I agree,” Martin purred, caressing her body tenderly with his finger. He couldn’t believe his luck. He leaned down for another kiss, this one short and sweet but no less passionate. “Who knew a human woman could make me feel this way...”

Martin cupped her in his hands and took her into his living room. He reclined on the couch and relaxed, holding the tiny woman against his chest. As he drifted off for a nap, he hoped in his heart that this whole encounter wasn’t all just a dream, and the tiny woman in his hands was, in fact, real. Before he closed his eyes, he looked down at her, snuggled up in the curve of his palm on his chest, rocking slightly with every beat of his heart. She was so trusting, already fast asleep in his hand after a long and exhausting day of climbing.

Maybe true love was real after all.

Writing Masterpost

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alchemyofmaya · 8 months ago

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I thought for the longest time I was struggling, for ways to be able to create a soul-led healing practice, of marketing myself, selling spirituality, putting a price on my work, of niching down, understanding trends and following systematic/societal guidelines set around health and wellness.

For the longest time I’ve believed that I need to know everything, so I can be able to cater to the needs and issues of everyone.

I always understood that my own life journey enabled me to relate to the most tortured beings, that felt furthest away from their own light, from their own Source. I’ve always heard it echoed within me that — your story is your purpose.

Now I understand that it was never me doing anything. I am an instrument — for Source to do and use and create through as it pleases.

I’ve been shown a big vision. The things I’ve gone through and learned the past 12 years have taught me there are no shortcuts. But I had to go through what I did, to be able to show others an easier way.

To know you are all of it, right here.. right now — without the ego’s resistance. To be able to show others that ending the illusion doesn’t mean ending YOU. Most stop at the illusion of enlightenment. Most run after the psychic gifts they can sell as spirituality to others, and some go all the way — and they are gifted the Kingdom of Heaven.

There is something being created through me, that’s bigger than me and requires me to let go of everything that keeps me playing small, from being seen and heard, from stepping into the leadership role that Spirit knows is needed in bringing other people home to themselves, so they too can step into their true roles.

And it’s mostly because this path is lonely, cause you truly understand there is no other, it’s just you. But in this you gain the whole world. Everyone is you.

How many people want to go that far on their journey to truly understand that they’ve always been home?

Or to come back into the present moment and live fully immersed in the spirit of all that is — Do you?

#move out of your way and let the Source use you #becoming an instrument of the Divine

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xinfinityl0ve17 · 2 months ago

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By Mana-sama

Nostalgic Game Inferno

The Xbox, which I will be discussing this time, made a striking impression with its beautiful, green-glowing icon that was visible beyond the earth sliced by an "X."

When the announcement of a new hardware invasion from America came i was excited back in 2002. At the time of the Xbox's arrival, the gaming market had seen Sega's Dreamcast defeated, while Nintendo's N64 and GameCube were struggling. The market had become a stronghold for Sony, led by the PS2.

Speaking of the PS2, it had a significant advantage with its DVD playback function. Even though the DVD market wasn’t established yet, the ability to play games and watch DVDs was quite impressive… Sony’s strategy was ahead of its time. Then, Microsoft which had dominated the global PC market launched an attack on the firmly established PS2 empire from across the sea! "Microsoft's game entry with immense wealth. They must be a terrifying enemy for Sony," I shivered at the thought.

The reason I felt this way was due to my encounter with the "ATARI 2600" from the American company Atari. I recall when I was still a young child. At a time when even the Famicom hadn’t been born yet I was familiar with games through a system at toy stores where I could play for a few minutes by inserting 50 yen. Despite being in such an era, the price of the ATARI 2600 was around 60,000 yen. It was an astonishingly expensive item for a child, and of course, I couldn’t get one. In the midst of this, the infamous "Atari Shock" occurred leading to Atari's downfall! This created a dark history in the gaming market with its collapse.

Now, back to the Xbox's invasion of Japan. The advertising campaign was tremendous. Leading up to its release, Shibuya was dyed in Xbox colors, creating a huge buzz! My first encounter with the actual Xbox was during an interview with Famitsu about the Xbox. I visited the Famitsu editorial department to be interviewed and got to see the console before its release!

As a result, the first American attempt at entering Japan ended in failure. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t the first attempt, but let’s leave it at that for now.Then, in 2002, a time leap occurred, marking the start of America’s third attempt at entering Japan with the black ship Xbox.

Why is it the third attempt? Because the 3DO, which I love dearly and discussed in the first installment of this series, attempted its second entry in 1994. Some might think it’s a Japanese-made game console since it was released by Matsushita Electric Industrial in Japan, but in reality, the 3DO is American-made. Japanese companies had licensing agreements with the "3DO standard."

Now, getting a bit sidetracked—my first impression of that black, square object was striking. It felt substantial, and a line forming an X ran across the middle. Inside it was a semi-transparent green dome of the Xbox, which gave it a presence that made me think, "This is really cool!" and I couldn’t help but shout that in my heart.

The only disappointment was that the green dome didn’t light up. If it had lit up, it would have been perfect. That said, the original Xbox is one of my favorite consoles.

#mana sama #moidixmois #moidixmoisinterview

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beardedmrbean · 3 months ago

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New Zealand has serious problems with its power supply. There are three underlying reasons: the weather, a flawed electricity market and a drive for ‘net zero’.

Sixty-five per cent of New Zealand’s electricity is provided by hydropower, and the remainder by geothermal, gas, coal, wind and some solar. Though hydropower is often seen as the one form of renewable energy which is not plagued by intermittency of supply, it sadly isn’t true. In a dry year, hydro’s ability to deliver falls away, and we lose about 10 per cent of our generation. In the past, we always tried to have the hydro reservoirs and coal stockpile full by the end of summer to guard against this possibility. When we switched to an electricity market, this was forgotten.

This year, we failed to refill the reservoirs, and levels are now unusually low. We are muddling along for the moment, but this is a difficult position from which to recover and there are likely to be blackouts at some point in the future.

The ability of our fossil fuel power stations to step into the gap has been severely restricted. We used to get 20 per cent of our electricity from gas-fired power stations, but six years ago, as part of their decarbonisation policy, the previous government banned further gas exploration, and we are now desperately short of gas. The new government is encouraging new exploration but we won’t see the results for several years.

We also have a single coal fired station with insufficient coal in its stockpile because our electricity market does not pay for the cost of maintaining an adequate stockpile.

The situation has been made worse by poor market design. New Zealand was one of the pioneers of electricity markets, and chose a risky model which has proved to be seriously flawed.

As a result, the problems this year have led to wholesale market prices rising to ridiculous levels of as much as £1/kWh. This has already caused some factories to shut down; others are under threat. The politicians are beginning to realise that the energy crisis could have serious effects on consumers, and there is speculation that they will be forced to intervene. This could mean instructing our gas and coal-fired power stations to run flat out day and night – which won’t make much difference because of the lack of fuel. Failing this, the only solution in the short term is rolling blackouts. and a public conservation campaign.

How did we get to this situation?

Firstly, the electricity market is simply not fit for purpose. The underlying propositions are that ‘electricity is a commodity like any other’ and that ‘when the price goes up, the demand goes down’. But electricity is not a commodity like any other, because it does not have an alternative or significant price elasticity. It isn’t a market that Adam Smith would recognise. As two departing CEOs said, the way to make money is to keep the system on the edge of a shortage. Which means that disaster is inevitable if a dry year occurs. And that is exactly what has happened.

The blind pursuit of ‘Net Zero’, has driven the closing down of gas exploration and the desire to shut down our coal fired station, even though it is doing a vital job in keeping the lights on.

The long-term problem

There has now been some rain on the hydro lakes and we are temporarily out of danger – assisted by the fact that the power companies have paid a stiff price to a major industrial gas user to shut down so that they can have its supplies.

But the long-term problem is still there: empty storage lakes that need to be refilled, not a lot of snow pack to melt in the springtime, declining supplies of gas, and the need to import 30 shiploads of coal and truck it to the power station. None can be achieved in the time available. The imminent shutdown of a 380 MW combined cycle power station, because it cannot find a secure gas supply for the next 20 years or so, adds to the problem.

Instead we are placing our faith in more wind and solar power. The price will skyrocket when it is in short supply, but that will not help the wind and solar farms’ accounts as that is when they have very little to sell. When wind and sun are abundant, prices will crash. This means that the wind and solar farms under construction and planned will not make enough money to pay for their construction and operation. New Zealand does not directly subsidise wind and solar power so we can’t even be sure that the generators will continue building them.

To be economic, wind and solar must be supported by low-cost long-term storage for days, weeks and months.There is no technology that can deliver this right now. New Zealand’s hydro reservoirs have huge capacity – approaching 10 per cent of a year’s electricity supply – but this storage capacity is already fully required to deal with the annual variations in hydro output. It cannot be used to back up solar and wind. Batteries simply can’t be used at national grid scales: they are too expensive by a factor of 50 or so.

Worse still the expectation is that electricity demand is going to increase rapidly, driven by domestic and industrial heat and road transport being electrified (although the extent to which this will actually happen in the face of rising power prices is debatable). Whether electric heating and transport arrive or not, we are already getting more and more data centres, which are a 24-hour per day load and need a reliable supply.

So the load will go up but we will be less able to keep the lights on when wind and solar are not delivering. Australia is 2000 km away, so there is no chance of importing from there, even if they did have power to spare, which they don’t.

We could build more geothermal stations, but that takes time, especially as the oil rigs they need to drill production wells have all departed overseas. There is probably 1000 MW so of identified geothermal potential, and there is the possibility that more could be found with exploration. But this is not a quick solution.

The only quick solution is to buy gas turbines and run them on diesel: not a nice prospect.

In the long-term we could consider more hydro generation, but that is blocked by many environmentalists, even though there is probably 2000 MW of potential left in the South Island. For those who do not believe in dangerous carbon-driven climate change – or who consider that atmospheric carbon levels will rise beyond desirable levels anyway due to China and India and that it is therefore pointless for Western nations to spend huge sums reducing their emissions – more coal and gas generation are an obvious solution but they are not quick.

For those who believe that man-made global warming is real and dangerous, and that it is worthwhile for the Western nations to cut emissions alone, we could be urgently considering nuclear power. This is the only practical and economic way of having reliable electric power with low carbon emissions. I suspect that in spite of a long-held opposition to nuclear armed and propelled ships, the New Zealand public are more sympathetic to nuclear power than they are believed to be.

Whatever happens, New Zealand faces a very uncertain situation in the next few years with an increasing risk of major shortages and a major increase in domestic electricity prices.

The implications for other countries

I suspect that this is the writing on the wall for all countries that have pursued net zero and ignored the importance of keeping the lights on at a reasonable price. The UK is already relying on interconnectors for about 10 per cent of its electricity and would be in serious trouble if Europe was unable to provide backup power when UK wind and solar are not delivering.

For as long as Europe and other countries have net zero as a prime objective, electricity blackouts and high prices are inevitable. As we are planning to make our entire society electrically powered, this is a bleak prospect.

#nunyas news #nice to let them be the test bed for now at least #I suppose #sucks for them

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wing-ed-thing · 1 year ago

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Spoiled (Neji x Reader)

Request:

Word Count: 0.7k

Tags/Warnings: @brokennerdalert Neji is RICH, Slice of Life, Fluff, No Pronouns for Reader

Notes: Short and sweet, based on the time I spent 2 months in Florence

It shone though during little moments like this.

Your hand settled in the crux of his elbow as you made your way down the stone streets. Tall, pastel buildings sat crammed together to provide shade for the bustling market on the cobblestone. A bakery displayed baskets of bread in front of the open-doored shop. Across the way sat an ice cream store with elaborately decorated display cones hanging in the window.

Neji said little as you navigated through the busy road. You remarked about the little things on display, not even having to look where you were going as Neji led you along by the sleeve of your robes. Neji filled your closet with light, flowy robes suited for hot, dry days like this. He had a good sense. The weather was perfect with your summer clothing and the breeze from the river.

You let go of Neji’s arm, rushing up the bridge’s stone steps. The bridge consisted of stairs and platforms where jewelers set up little shops to sell silver and gold. Neji trailed behind, watching with a hint of stoic sentiment as you excitedly admired the ornate necklaces in the shop windows. A single chain with a sapphire stone caught your eye.

The attendants were all too happy to usher you inside, falling over you as they showed you gemstone after gemstone. Neji stood patiently inside the door of the quaint jewelry boutique with arms crossed as you shopped. You turned to him with a pair of silver and pearl earrings held up to your ear. The light struck you in such a way, filtering through the elegant draping of your hair.

“These?” you asked, the shiny pearls glinting as they dangled from thick, glossy paper. “Or these?” The intricately crafted metal hung down from chain links to create a wave-like shape down to the base of your neck. Neji couldn’t say he saw a difference.

“Get them both,” he said with a slight nod. He made brief eye contact with one of the attendants, who swiftly approached the register. You didn’t notice, opting to roll your eyes with a pouty drawl of his name.

“Neji…” You frowned but didn’t stay disappointed long as you busied yourself comparing expensive metals and precious gemstones. You didn’t bother to look at the price or notice Neji handing over a large wad of cash to the attendant at the register.

He came over to stand next to you as you continued to look at the products under the glass cases, wrapping an arm around your waist as you pointed out the bracelets and necklaces that interested you. After much— one-sided— deliberation, you settled on two pieces, clinging onto Neji’s arm excitedly as your jewelry was plucked from the case and packaged neatly in white tissue paper. They were handed directly to you.

You hardly noticed an attendant handing Neji his own bag, filled with every other piece of jewelry you had expressed remote interest in. You held your smaller one up at him with a grin and kissed him on the cheek in thanks. With another polite goodbye to the shop attendants, you ushered Neji outside.

You stood together on the bridge, looking over the water and babbling about shopping. The water below rushed underneath, reflecting the sunlight to sparkle over the surface. Neji studied you as you spoke, taking in the shape of your nose and the curve of your lip.

He reached into his little bag— the one you never noticed until now— and plucked out a tiny tissue paper package. You fell quiet as Neji neatly unwrapped the paper to reveal the necklace you had captivated within the window. He undid the clasp, cocking his head slightly to the right as he draped the sapphire ornament around your neck.

Neji kept you completely and utterly spoiled.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

#neji x reader #neji hyuuga x reader #Neji Hyūga #Neji Hyuuga #neji hyuga #naruto x reader #naruto fanfic #naruto fanfiction #naruto #neji #hyuuga #naruto scenario #naruto scenarios #naruto request #x you #x reader #reader insert

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xuchiya · 11 months ago

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❇ just imagine jongho is an old resident at a province that you are now currently settling in. it was around a week before christmas when you decided to move out of your old home, a fresh start for your new home. you place the last box for your kitchen and sigh loudly, “should have moved a month or so, so i won’t have to clutch things for christmas.” you whisper, looking at the boxes stacked on top of each other and the dull decorated house, “they won’t move if i keep staring.” you found the strength and motivation to start your work around the house. it was not a huge problem for you as your appliances and other items inside your house are minimal so it was a relief for you when you finished wiping, sweeping and mopping the first floor, though when you reach the second floor was the time you realized that you left, not intentionally, all your duvets and comforter for donation on your old hometown. you groan, forgetting the only thing you were supposed to do, “shopping..” not wasting your time, you grab your keys, lock the doors and head your way to the market. the place was not packed as you thought it would be since it is a week before christmas. you found the section for your pillow/bed cases, next to those were christmas decorations. After picking at least 4 cases, you decide to buy christmas lights and a small christmas tree. you find cute decorations until you stop at one object, it is one of your favorite items, christmas globes, specifically looking at this one, it is an LED globe with no base holder, just a plain globe. The design inside is a snowy forest with a small opening with two reindeers, a mother and baby. You were excited to buy it when you saw the price, your heart dropped to your stomach, “it’s so pricey.” you pout, debating to go for it or not since there are no other globes similar to this one, it's the last one. You sigh deeply, it was not part of your budget so you decide to leave it now and hopefully, you’ll find it on any online shops. when it's your turn to check out, you notice ahjumma behind you with only a few items in her basket. unlike yours at least 2 baskets are full. you move to the side, “ahjumma, you can go first.” the ahjumma was taken back but smiled softly at your kind gesture, “oh thank you dear.” as her items were being checked out, a voice called out for ahjumma, “halmoni there you are!”

it felt like the scene came out of a cliche movie, wherein the leading lady spun to look at the one who called, hair flowing smoothly with a mellow look on her face and the leading man who called for someone was astonished by the beauty of the leading lady. he watch as her lips move as if mouthing something towards someone but he pays no attention; he was still mesmerize until he felt the whole scene faded and the same lady with calm face change into a confused look, hands waving to his face and the whole background reform to the market he was currently in. he blink once, twice then few times before he regains consciousness, “h-huh?” you chuckle at his reaction and move slightly to the side to give him a view of ahjumma who had her hands on her hips with an impatient look, “your grandma has been calling for you for the past minute, though we lost you there.” “aigoo jongho-ya, come on let’s go! you're keeping the line waiting!” jongho has slight panic in his eyes, bowing at you before scurrying towards his grandma. you smile at their reaction as he was being scolded by his grandma, a hand over his neck, an embarrassed smile on his lips as he subtly looked over your direction which he felt his cheeks flared again when you chuckle at him. you finished checking out all the items, you managed to catch them waiting for a cab. you look around seeing as there won’t be any cabs going around since few stores are crowded, needing a ride home, it would be a total creep action but it is much better to help them than letting them freeze or walk home, “ahjumma do you guys need a ride home?” the two were startled but loosen up when they notice it was you, ahjumma nodded an exasperated look on her face, “cabs are slightly pricey nowadays as it is christmas, if not pricey, they won’t let you go any further than the given route they wanted. buses will be a lot harder for us since it's almost 4 buses from here.” your mouth formed a small ‘o’ new knowledge about this hometown, you smiled at her, “i brought my car with me maybe i can give you guys a ride home.” jongho looked at his grandma and you saw her eyes wanting to decline, “oh dear, our place is kind of far and beside we don’t want to impose on your day.” you shake your head, looking at jongho, “please i don’t mind and it’s too cold and it might take a while for you both to find a cab, it's kind of a bit crowded today.” you gesture your head to the parking lot, “don’t worry too much ahjumma.” they were a bit hesitant not that you blame them, you would also be in doubt if someone gives you a ride home. You open the car so ahjumma can settle inside while you try and place your groceries inside the trunk, you were struggling until a hand finds its way to the other grocery bags, “let me..” you watch jongho place all the groceries inside the trunk with ease and close it. you smiled, “thank you jongho.” his eyes widened and cheeks flared, he bowed once again, “no thank you, you help out a lot.” you and him both just stood there in awkward silence yet it felt as if you knew him for a long time. the moment was interrupted when jongho’s grandma spoke, “love is indeed warm but my tits are freezing here!” jongho’s face burned in embarrassment while you fell on the ground laughing, “halmoni!”

when you entered the car, you set up your phone for gps when jongho made a small noise of surprise, “oh? you also live there?” when you notice that your phone automatically sets directions to your current home, you nodded, “yeah, is this where you guys also live?” he nodded, jongho turned to his grandma, “halmoni looks like we met our new neighbor.” jongho’s grandma smiled widely, “omo! really? It's nice to know we have a very kind neighbor.” you smile, your cheeks flaring, “it's nice to know i have someone i know now in the new neighborhood.” the drive on the way home was peaceful, few questions here and there until you all arrived on the street. Jongho helped his grandma towards the inside of their house while you parked and took out the groceries, “hey they seem heavy.” you glance to see jongho once again helping you. You thank him quietly, opening the door to your place and instructing him to place the groceries on the table, “thank you again jongho … “ he looks at you with a small smile, “it's no problem …” there was a few seconds of silence until jongho cleared his throat, “i’ll better get going and help halmoni.” you nodded your head, showing the way out and as you both stood outside your porch, “thank you again jongho, i might drop some of them before i could even use it.” he chuckles, waving your thanks off, “i don’t mind helping and beside if it wasn’t for you maybe halmoni and i would be freezing or worse we have to walk our way back here.” you pat his arm gently, “you’re most welcome jongho.” he walks down the small stairs of your porch before pausing and turning around, “uhm .. halmoni wants you to know that you can always come by and on christmas eve, please do visit.” his cheeks either flared from the cold or from the way he was making up an excuse to see you again. your heart quickens, hoping that maybe that invite could be a chance for you to celebrate christmas with him, you nodded, “okay, i’ll come by.” when he heard your answer, his eyes sparkled. immediately, a big grin broke out from his lips, a gummy smile that made your eyes widen in adoration and the way your heart picked up its pace. ‘That is so cute’ .

When christmas eve came by, your covered knuckle knocked gently on the choi residence. you waited until the door opened and halmoni was surprised to see you, “oh dearie, hello.” you bow, greeting her, “merry christmas ahjumma. I brought something for christmas eve if you don’t mind.” she gently clasp her hands around your forearm and drag you inside, you did not notice the noise coming from the living room until you were greeted by a family, they pause from whatever they were doing and stared at your presence, you felt slightly awkward and bowed at them, “anneyeonghaseyo …” you flash them a small smile, ahjumma rubs her hand behind you as a comforting matter, “this is the girl that i told you that help me and jongho-ya! Isn’t she pretty?” your cheeks immediately flared up. One person approached, you guessed it, jongho’s mother– greeted you and helped you with the food you were carrying, “Thank you for helping eomma, she can be a little hard headed when we told her jongho can do it.” ahjumma smack her, hissing at her, “aish! I can perfectly handle myself, jongho is a hard headed.” speaking of jongho, your eyes glance all over the room to find the chestnut coloured boy but to find him nowhere, jongho’s mother notice your stare and chuckles, “he’s outside.” you immediately felt embarrassed, your cheeks were flaring looking away. She laughs at your reaction and pushes you towards the door towards the backyard.

“go … don’t worry. i won’t let these monkeys disturb you and my son.” you smile gently at her sweetness, mouthing her a ‘thank you’, you move towards the sliding door and towards jongho, who is sitting on top of the monkey bars, looking up at the starry night. you silently walk to his spot, leaning your body on the bars, crossing your arms “quite the night eh?” it did not make him startled, in fact jongho planned this moment right here. You were disappointed for not getting the reaction you wanted and pouted, “you were not scared.” he looked down where you were and chuckled, “that's one fun fact about me.” you shake your head, a smile on your lips as you uncross your arms and climb on the bar. There was a small space between you both as silence settled, both watching the starry night together.

“Does your parents know you’re celebrating christmas here?” you look at him, momentarily your eyes return to the sky, “they don’t need to know where i go because they know, i only ask them to keep me safe whenever i go.” jongho was confused for a moment, he looked at you, asking through his eyes what you mean. You sigh, a heavy yet familiar pain surges through your eyes, “they died during christmas, i mean a week before christmas.” you look at him to see that he was still listening, no sign of pity but full of sympathy, “i’m not alone though. I still have my sister with me but because of the pain .. even after a year, the pain is still fresh so we both decided to celebrate christmas separately. She’s probably celebrating with her boyfriend.” you gave him a tight smile before looking away and back to the stars. It was silence, like it had always been between the two of you. He sighs, not knowing what to say, not even knowing how to comfort you, he doesn’t even let people near him not even the slightest touch not even to the point of letting his members (mostly San and Wooyoung) but for some reason, to you, he can’t help it, he felt obliged to make you feel the comfort, to feel that you are not alone and that you can always come to him no matter. He place his hand on top of yours. Your heart pick up a pace, your eyes trail slowly went back to him.

He was already looking at you with the same fondness that you saw days ago when you first met. It was filled with comfort, assurance and security,”you’re right. You are not alone.” he places something on your palm, you look down to see the snow globe that you saw at the market. The one that you were having a debate in your head, ”because you have halmoni. You have my mom and my whole family looking after you to move on … and you have me so don’t be scared to lean on me.” he spoke with so much sincerity that it made you tear up, “oh jongho …” he chuckles, wiping a fallen tear “you’re gonna be okay.” he pulled you closer to him, you sniffle placing your head on his shoulder, him placing his head on top of your, “thank you jongho. I’m sorry I was not able to give you one.” you felt him shake his head, “i don't need anything, just you here beside me is enough.” ❇

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#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez jongho #choi jongho #ateez choi jongho #jongho ateez #jongho x reader #jongho fluff

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