#right now you're suffering under an enormous weight

[lordstormageddidnt]

[trueloveistreacherous]

MARELLA'S 12TH TUMBLR ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION @rhaenyratargaryns and @elssbethtascioni requested: Ted Lasso or Leverage

People like that, corporations like that, they have all the money, they have all the power, and they use it to make people like you go away. Right now, you're suffering under an enormous weight. We provide leverage.

[providing-leverage]

1x01 the Nigerian Job

the first scene really establishes who Nate is: hotel bar, he'll punch you for bringing up his son

The introduction flashback scenes are so good (Eliot's is so dramatic)

Parker lived in Kansas City as a kid??

20 pounds of crazy in a five pound bag

I don't understand how the vents at the top of roofs work

Basketball playoffs almost blowing the whole job

Why the sink in the hall????

"That's what I do." Hardison nodding appreciatively

Nate begging them to talk to him but later he won't be able to get them to shut up

All the plans! No plan M though

The boys turning their backs in the elevator despite Parker not caring if they see her change

Eliot's Boston accent when they get to the lobby

Nate pulling up in the car for their first getaway scene, which is paralleled in the season finale

"You're the only one who's ever played both sides" Eliot are you accusing him of betrayal or being bisexual

The way they all act in the hospital is very telling about who they are: Eliot cuffed to a chair instead of a bed and immediately noticing Nate's hatred of hospitals, Parker of course already freed herself, Hardison sitting cross legged on his bed and trying to talk Parker into getting him out too

"He tried to kill us" "More importantly, he didn't pay us"

"The hell's a Sophie?"

Yes I read MacBeth in school but I go an academic team question about it correct because of the MacBeth scene in this episode

Sophie is the embodiment of "you don't have to be good at your hobby to enjoy it"

The way her flashback scene is also Nate's

Nate cannot stop smiling when talking to Sophie

"Let's go break the law just one more time!"

Eleventy billion dollars

"I'm thinking Nigerians. Yeah, Nigerians will do nicely." Walks away without another word, establishing the running gag of him doing so

I just noticed that Nate is wearing his original headset still instead of Hardison's earbuds, unlike the rest of the crew

This episode also sets up the trend of the marks setting their own trap by calling the authorities themselves and being shocked when they get arrested instead

I always thought the young guy with Dubinich was his assistant or something but based on the meeting I think he's the head engineer? He looks like twenty years old?

The fact that they actually are Nigerians (when watching for the first time I was so confused where they got other grifters to help them out)

The FBI agent's face when Dubenich runs away is so exasperated

"Sir I can take your underpants" why is this agent my new favorite minor character (other than Liam and Connor of course)

The shredded paper raining down on the FBI agents + the crew doing their walk out

Their true goal being to just crash the stock (Hardison is so good at what he does)

"Somebody kiss this man so I don't have to"

Repeating their lines from the beginning but less convinced about forgetting each other this time

I am forever a fan of the overhead walkaway shot

Alternative revenue stream

"People like that, corporations like that, they have all the money. They have all the power and they use it to make people like you go away. Right now you're suffering under an enormous weight. We provide...Leverage."

[whinlatter]

hi! I might be childish but I am 100% agreeing with McGonagall not getting Ginny’s Christmas card…🙃

Can you please tell us some about her mindset? Is it just trying to get the school through this year, is it really though love, remorse or..?

the mcgonagall discourse continues to tickle me no end. anon i for one applaud an encourage any and all childishness. also i agree! dropping people from the christmas card list because you've got major beef with them is a time-honoured and noble tradition and ginny is right to uphold it

i don't want to say too much that will end up in the fic but! i think mcgonagall in beasts thinks she is trying to Do Her Best - for ginny, for the other students under her care, but also for hogwarts as an institution, which is an institution whose mission and ethos she really believes in. a lot of this is is (understandably, and not necessarily wrongly) bound up in her loyalty to her mentor, dumbledore, someone she didn't always agree with but whose vision for hogwarts she consistently throws her weight behind.

minnie's got a huge amount on her plate stepping up as headmistress in 1998. she's the headteacher of a student body who are individually and collectively traumatised, who are only just beginning to process what happened to them, and whose traumas are extremely complex and diverse and don't really have the tools to grasp each other's often very different but no less serious sufferings (obviously the the pureblood/half-blood students who endured life under the carrows during the war and the DA lot who actively resisted the carrows and paid a huge price for it, but also muggleborn students who were on the run, and all those who were in azkaban.) she's dealing with a lot of guilt for all that she couldn't shield her students from (more to come on this), and she's sincere in her belief that young people who have gone through enormous upheaval need structure, routine, accountability, and a kind of compassion that manifests as someone saying no, you can't punch whoever you like because they said something horrible to you. you do have to hand your homework in. you do need to not sneak out of the castle at night and make everyone worry about you. partly this is generational - she was born in 1935, she has a set of ideas about acceptable and unacceptable ways of expressing your distress as a child. but i think this is also a not inherently cruel or abusive child welfare philosophy, even if it doesn't really take on a lot of what we know of how trauma manifests in young people and adolescents. minerva would say: it's my job to look after my students, i'm the adult and authority figure, i need to reimpose and safeguard the social contract that holds an institution like a school together, and also to make sure that i care about each individual student while also managing the impact of students' behaviours on each other. (in canon, she repeatedly does enforce the rules in strong terms and doesn't make excuses when harry - a character who is well within his rights to act out given his life experiences - gets in a fight or fucks up and breaks the rules in ways that meaningfully impact his peers.)

when it comes to ginny, i think mcgonagall sees lots of herself in her. they share a fierce protective streak, they're both very loyal, they're both incredibly stubborn, and they both are petty as hell and show their emotions by way of biscuit/christmas card deprivation. but that also means mcgonagall expects more of ginny than most, especially as someone who rode hard for the hogwarts student body the preceding year. mcgonagall wants ginny to help her keep hogwarts standing and continue to play the part of a role model for her peers as someone (she knows) they look up to. ginny does not want to do that. and mcgonagall's massively frustrated that ginny has (also understandably) held her hands up and said fuck that, role model schmole model, i've gone through it and you're all now saying back to normal and pretending it never happened. what's hard is that they're both kind of right! but neither is able to say it. and that's why gryffindor girlies are so fun and massively annoying to smash into each other when doing the literary equivalent of playing dolls (writing fanfiction)

[okimargarvez]

PARALLEL LINES

Original title: Parallel lines.

Prompt: what if after 15x10 garvez' date, what if CME premiere, Adam's "They can't decide if they are just friends or more".

Warning: possible spoiler.

Genre: angst, romantic.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, [mentioned: Roxy, JJ, Emily Prentiss, Tara Lewis, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, Matt Simmons].

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 82 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 💏😘🔦❗.

Song mentioned: Ancora ancora ancora, by Tiziano Ferro.

GARVEZ STORIES

PARALLEL LINES

 

Few months after the first date

If you want to go, I understand you, if you leave me, I'll betray you, yes

He put that song on purpose, she has no doubt. She feels the weight of his eyes upon her, they trace caresses and brands in certainly not unknown places. She voluntarily turns away from him, feeling ridiculous. His giggle is a confirmation that she's right, and it makes her cheeks turn red. She wears one garment at a time, moving involuntarily with the music.

For him there is nothing more sensual. It's even more so than seeing her undressing. He is aware of how absurd his reasoning appears, so another laugh escapes him, which soon fades away. As soon as he remembers that taking off her clothes, with him, has always been a hasty and meaningless act.

But if I sleep on your chest, I won't stop loving you, no

He watches her bend down to rummage in the huge bag she's brought with her, like Mary Poppins's. And he knows she's doing it on purpose to piss him off. If before and during the act she is so ravenous and frantic, afterwards, when she is no longer in his arms, she seems to have lost all haste. But he is under no illusions that it is because she wants to postpone their separation as long as possible.

For that, it would be enough to stay.

She turns so abruptly that he makes a jump and at the same time retreat a few inches in bed.

You are gorgeous in love, sensual on my heart… yes

Her expression is hard, her cheekbones stiffened by the enormous effort she is making, trying to pass for what she is not. With him. With the only person who has always understood her, read her like an open book, she, who seems so transparent and instead how many dark shades she has hidden for years from the eyes of her best friends, her family. Because she believed that she must carry the burden by herself. -What's up? If you have something to say, just spit it.- she crosses her arms, making (maybe) involuntarily lift her still bare breasts. She is covered from the waist down. His eyes linger right on the colorful fringed skirt, so much at odds with her mood right now. It leaves half of her thigh exposed. The woman notices it and takes a step in his direction, right to challenge him.

And if I snatch a lament from you, it's important this moment of mine, because…

He raises his hands, innocently. -I didn't say a word.- meanwhile the song goes on, providing a perfect background, as if they were inside a movie. Each of her move seems to follow the music, her hips sway involuntarily, or, far more realistically, her body knows exactly what she wants and above all, it's incapable of lying. She doesn't answer right away, thus giving him time to wonder, for the fifteenth time, how the hell they got to this point.

She wears the bra and, in a flash, also the top, low-cut of course. After that, she finally opens her mouth again. -You're judging me.- she accuses him bluntly. -You're staring at me as if I were preparing to betray you.- man doesn't have time to reply, however, because she continues, her voice more and more sharp. It's so far away from the Garcia he fell in love with, yet, how can you stop loving someone? Nobody ever taught him that. -Maybe you don't remember that we only slept together sometimes, we haven't a real relationship and you have no right to be jealous.- this is the last dig. Yet, if he could eliminate that harsh tone, if he focused exclusively on her eyes, he would see that she is shaking inside, and how much suffering she is causing first of all to herself, with her behavior.

Instead he jumps up and pulls the zipper that adorns her décolleté upwards, simultaneously drawing her towards himself, until their bodies are in contact.

I'm asking you again, your body, again, your arms, again, to hug me again…

-Yeah, we just fuck, right?- he deliberately chooses to use that vulgar term, with the precise aim of making her feel a crumb of what she provokes in him, but he regrets it halfway through the sentence, and the last words sound like a whisper. But she has heard it and with a shove sends him back on the bed.

She promises herself this was the last time. Because every night that passes, it's harder and harder to leave and she can't afford it. Not even with him. Maybe she's just not emotionally ready to have a real, serious, full, and deep story since she's still on grieving process of being out of the BAU. Someone might tell her that she wanted it, chose it, everything of that. And that's why she doesn't talk about it with anyone, except with her own psychologist. She didn't even try with him. The thing that scares her most is that she doesn't know if she did it out of fear that he wouldn't understand her or for the exact opposite. -You weren't complaining at the time.- she replies after what seems like thousand years. She watches the numbers light up on the clock radio that doubles as a weather station, on the man's bedside table. She knows she's being late. She shivers, hoping he hasn't noticed.

…and to love me again and take me again, to make me die… again… because I still love you!

She'll never get to find out. He laughs, shaking his head, a giggle totally joyless. -Uh, sure.- he stops looking at her and this is perhaps what hurts her the most. -But who is the one that wanted it?- she clearly sees the harm she caused on him, it's not a matter of intuition, sensations, soul mates. It is clear, concrete. Since they've been in this non-relationship, she's watched him lose weight, from the stress of the responsibilities that have all come swoop on his head at once. Because, as they say, trouble never comes alone. And so, like a domino effect, Garcia's departure caused a tsunami through the team, making everyone wondering if they really were in the right place.

In a few weeks, or a few months, Spencer had decided that teaching was his priority, remaining available for consultations at the BAU, but officially leaving it, so as to have even more time to stay with Max and his mother. JJ, the last remaining piece of the original trio, had followed his example shortly after, moving away with her husband and family. Matt had been the last to leave. Emily and Rossi, on the other hand, were promoted and Tara had set off on a personal and dangerous mission. In that way, Luke was forced to face responsibility that he did not feel he had earned. But he had made a big mistake. When everything was going on in the best way, slow and gradual, with kisses, cuddles and TV series watched on the sofa, he had made a risky move, an all-in. I'm so lucky you are in my life, he just told her, after venting about the situation at the Bureau.

And Penelope felt crushed by that boulder of expectations. His happiness and his peace of mind depended on her (and Roxy), she was his lifeline! Instead of being happy about it, she'd been terrified of it. She wasn't ready, she would have been, but not in that moment, too little time had passed. He wasn't the only one who needed lightness. The last thing she wanted in the world, however, was to make him suffer, so she kept silent, she let herself be kissed and hugged, that same evening, then, then she completely changed her attitude, playing a part that didn't suit her, that of the jerk. First by not answering his calls and texts, then trying to see him as little as possible, finally yielding to a bitter compromise, to only have sex with him, behaving as if he were nothing but a piece of meat, even forcing herself to date other people (while never doing anything more than chatter).

Because he had to hate her, that was the only way he would get rid of that addiction. It would have hurt him, sure. She knew like she knows now how much he loves her, but she tried to turn that feeling into its opposite. Hoping that one day he can take one more step, the truly definitive one. Because it takes a moment to go from hate to love (and vice versa), but when indifference prevails, then it's really over.

Her plan has been going on for months, without great success. Luke shattered his dignity many times. The fact that with another woman, that with Lisa he hasn't done it and she's sure of it, only makes the situation worse. He doesn't care at all about censoring himself, being insulted or treated badly, so as not to lose her. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, damn it. She has lost count of times he has told her that he loves her, in a way so spontaneous, without any double purpose to extort from her declaration of equal value. She bends down to wear her shoes, lingering as long as possible, but doesn't turn away, to not allow him to see her tears. He would understand all and then this sacrifice would be useless. Luke has withered like a forgotten floor plan, yet, that light still shines in his eyes, with the same intensity. Why this is not enough for her? Why it's not enough to make her understand that he would wait for her, he would respect her times, that he's not Kevin! Nor Shane. That telling him to go slow would have make him suffer a cent of what he's experiencing now. Why she doesn't turn around, why she doesn't throw her arms around his neck and asks him to forgive her, to force her to stay, that the situation has gotten out of hand...

She keeps asking herself that, as she leaves the room, closes the door without slamming it, runs down the stairs, risk twisting her ankle, while she gets into the car and drives through the fog that envelops her heart. Luckily, she hasn't put on makeup yet.

 

She holds the promise for two weeks. She would like to be proud of herself, but she's not. A voice message where Roxy can be heard whining in the background breaks it like crystal. As they make love, sex or whatever, she's convinced that nothing has really changed, but it's only when they separate that she realizes how wrong she is. Unlike usual, it is he who walks away and wears on his suit, ignoring her while she dresses in turn. And as soon as she turns in his direction, he attacks her like a cobra.

-You're the one who didn't want a stable relationship!- he yells, dominated much more by anger than by pain. And this time he doesn't seem to regret at all. It comes out of nowhere, as if he were resuming an unfinished speech, and in part it is. -Even now that we don't work together anymore- yeah, he had intentionally waited that moment, right? He understood that she couldn't handle such a messy situation and he waited in silence, loving her without demanding nothing in return. -… so don't tell me that it was because of the no-fraternization rule.- Penelope remains silent, fearing that when she will half-open her lips, it will come out of her throat a cry so shrill as to kill her. All that she has kept on the bottom of her soul, that she tried to save hoping to avoid some pain to him, perfectly aware that she was committing bullshit. One chink is enough to destroy a dam. -The truth is that you're ashamed to be with me, you think I'm not enough for you.- that's new and it's so strong that it's like a punch in her stomach. Tears press to come out and they win, but Luke is so blinded that he can't see it and he interprets her silence as an assent. -And you're right.- he concludes, suddenly losing all the energy that animated him, collapsing like a deflated balloon.

Enough is enough. -No, no!- she protests, regardless of her tone, unable to conceive that he has given himself this justification for her behavior all this time. And that he really thinks he's not enough for her! No, she just can't tolerate it, not after she's watched him grow and blossom, from a lone wolf to an integral part of BAU family.

But he doesn't believe her or maybe he doesn't want to, because the straw finally breaks the camel and it's impossible to stop the process. -Don't deny, I don't want your pity.- now he finally notices the big drops running down the blonde's cheeks, but he interprets them the wrong way, screwing up every single notion of profiling he learnt. -No matter how fabulous sex with you is, it's not enough for me.- she already knew that, so she lets him continue. -I waited and accepted the compromise because I'm in love with you... I waited for you to realize that we could be more than occasional partners, as in that song.- his lips curl into the dullest smile she's ever had seen painted on his face. That face she would like to fill with kisses, the ears she would like to stun out of repeating that he's more than enough, for her, that he is everything, but she's so complicated, messed up, that it's no longer fair that she has to drop everything on him. And vice versa. Luke watches her, perhaps hoping she will say something. He nods to himself. -But it didn't happen and it won't.- he declares. -And now, if you'll excuse me, there's someone waiting for me.- he gets up and heads towards the bathroom, throwing his clothes behind him and coming back naked. Penelope takes a while before waking up and following him.

But she remains on the threshold. In front of all that goodness, she focuses only on his clear and very deep eyes. -So now you're dating someone out of spite?- she sees him shrug and adjusting the temperature of the water. For a moment she relives a flash of the only shower they took together, the playful fight between her wanting to become a lobster and he, who preferred arctic mode, as she had called it. -Do you really like someone else?- she ​​is so stunned that she doesn't realize her own tone, how her body is behaving. -It's over?- she should hope for a yes, it would be the best success for her plan, but she holds on to the wall to keep from falling.

-Yeah.- he replies, even if she doesn't know to which of the two questions or maybe it applies to both. -Even if you are extraordinary, to me- and the use of the present tense, Lord, kills her more than anything else he can say -what you are willing to share with me is not enough.- she purses her lips, biting them. -I wish you the best that life can offer, because you deserve it.- uh no, it can't be, a stereotyped phrase straight out of a sitcom that everyone says "I don't watch" and then, it's always on the top ten.

In two steps she is inside the bathroom and she hugs him; she, perfectly dressed and he, totally naked, with an intensity she hasn't felt since that night when she decided to destroy everything before everything could destroyed her. He hugs her too, but it doesn't last too long; he gently pulls her away and brings is face close to hers, to give her a kiss on the cheek. She turns to touch his lips, but Luke won't let himself go and that's when she realizes how serious the situation is.

-If you've ever loved me, even a shred of as much as I love you, if you did it... go away, please.- and she just has to obey his last wish. They will love each other forever, until their last breath, they are both certain of this, but perhaps not all those who love each other can be together. It would be a too beautiful world, wouldn't it? And it is clear that they aren't made to concretely share their own reality. Instead of walking next to each other, they are always out of phase, like a video with the audio out of sync. When she takes a step towards him, he takes one step back and vice versa. They are parallel lines that are not meant to meet.

 

Nowadays

It's incredible. It's been over a year. He threw himself into work, letting his beard and hair grow, while never appearing sloppy. He learned bureaucrats jargon, the usefulness of compromise. He was able to parry every blow, the, fortunately rare, times when someone let that name slip.

He no longer wanted to know anything about her and in any case, she never looked for him either. Not that he hoped for it. It was right, she had let him go, to live a life he didn't want, with someone who wasn't her. But Lisa's experience had served him well and he hadn't had any intention of repeating it. After all, Roxy was enough for him. Covid hadn't stopped his work, because the killers, you know, could use guns and knives wearing a mask and gloves... well, many of them have been prescient, from this point of view.

Then that email arrived. They collected too many deaths. Rossi had been absent for a more than justified reason and, after months of having managed to make fun of himself and convince himself that he was over it, he had begun to talk to himself if it were better to lose your other half knowing how much it loved you or what had happened to him. The thought of her (he no longer dared even think of that name) dead, however, was not tolerable under any circumstances. Emily, then, had begun to demand more than he was able to give. And so, one by one, they had returned. Everyone but her. And he was fine with that.

Luke tries to slow down. He repeats to himself that maybe she doesn't even live here anymore, she might have moved again, but he knows he has little chance. And that he will not get off that easily. As he faces the last climb, he sees Dave's haunted eyes again as he told them about her (Penelope) toughness, her firmness in refusing the offer. And how everyone, not just JJ, had stared at him, alluding to something between him and the blonde with colourful glasses, convinced that everything had remained frozen at that evening at Rossi's place, dancing to Heroes tune. They didn't know shit, no one was aware of what happened next, of the developments. They were persuaded that they are still two (ex) colleagues who enjoy flirting without getting to the point. So why did Agent Jareau said that? You are the only one that can convince her.

To protect her as well as himself, he is now on her landing, trying to get his finger to press the bell. But it is anticipated. The door opens and a breathless but normal Garcia appears. And in defiance of all his conviction, here comes that disappointment. Because he sees no sign of change in her, anything that shows that their separation has had consequences in her life, as for him. But it's not right for him to demand something like that, he was (is) the one who was (is) crazy in love, wasn't it?

-Alvez?- she ​​doesn't even seem shocked, almost as if it were normal to find him there without any warning, almost as if she was waiting for him. She steps aside and lets him in. She wears an apron. Immediately the scent of freshly made biscuits envelops him. -I was going to some neighbors to ask if they wanted to take a taste…- she shrugs. Modest, so tender and sweet, showing miniature pastry masterpieces. She is so much herself, the Penelope he fell so easily and deeply in love with, that he marvels at his own self-control.

Instead of jumping her, he nods and takes a breath. -The team sent me here to try to get you back. I know that JJ and Rossi have already did it, so I don't see why I should be able to change your mind…- he giggles, without looking at her. -... but I really don't even want to.- at the very last moment he decides to be brutally honest.

Certainly, he doesn't expect her reaction. -I know.- she whispers and he seems to recognize that sparkle in his eyes, which smells of walks and laughter, which has the taste of everything that could have been and wasn't. A huge potential thrown in the WC. She approaches the man slowly, almost like an animal studying another to decide how far can go. She strokes his arm down to the hand. -I know you never wanted to ask me that.- they never break eye contact.

The totally unexpected fact that not only she believes him, but that they can also have a normal conversation without shouting at each other, brings down the fragile wall built by the Latin during this very lonely year. -I was there those evenings when you ran away to the bathroom to cry suddenly, after watching the news, while you fought to not sink into the abyss that wanted to bring you back to it.- he in turn takes courage, while he speaks, gently touching her cheek. -That's why I seemed happy at the idea that you could leave the BAU, because I could see the way this job reduced you. And I had time to see you shine- he leaves an implicit "before you walked away" -when you started your new life.- he smiles and realizes that it is the first heartfelt smile he has made for almost two years.

-I remember it.- she replies, raising her face towards his, too close. -That's why you deserve a kiss.- she says it as if she were about to inflict a punishment on him, however giving him all the time to stop her. This thought doesn't even pass through Luke' brain. Only during kisses and hugs their lines finally seem to coincide. When they're not talking, they're not thinking, but just exist together.

Then he maintains contact, pulling her into a half hug. -I fell in love with you also because of your generosity…- it seems like a sentence that came out of nowhere, but she follows his line of reasoning perfectly.

-I had to learn that I have to think about myself too, and not just about the others...- she has time to reply, before Luke's cell phone starts ringing, breaking the atmosphere and the bubble that had formed around them. He reluctantly walks away and comes back to her five minutes later. -… you have to go.- she anticipates him. He nods, not daring to ask for another kiss, caress, something. They head for the door. When the man already has one foot out, she stops him. -Luke?- but it's not to convince him to be late, as he hoped. -I'm sorry, but I can't come back.- despite everything, he smiles and then, disappears.

A few days later, JJ joins him at his desk and tells him that Nate, "the replacement" as he was originally named, needs to show him something. But the tone and the look of the blonde don't bode well. Despite his doubts, he sets off and soon reaches the computer technician's office. Since there are no more puppets and colored lights, this room has once again become a neutral space for him. Yet his ears recognize the nuance of the tapping on the keyboard. Well-groomed and colored nails. Scent of hope. His eyes caress the body bent over the PC, the blond hair. But his ears perceive something that shatters the spell in an instant.

Penelope Garcia is here, in her former office, back at the BAU. That's why JJ was so excited. And perhaps she still hopes that her return will spark something between them. It's amazing to think that she hasn't said anything to her best friends about them. However, this is only the preamble.

Penelope is crying, though she won't stop typing. Her sobs are not strong, indeed, barely audible, yet they send him back in time, to the first real concrete attempt to make her understand that he was there for her, that he wanted to be there for her, in whatever role she placed him. That he would protect her even from himself. Pain and anger play tug of war inside the man.

In three steps he reaches her. As he swivels the chair in his direction, she puts her face in her hands and begins to gasp in ever shorter breaths. She is in full crisis; she is having a panic attack. It's not the first time this has happened in his presence, he has learned what he has to do and applies each technique with great skill. As he hugs her, he feels her heart gradually begin to beat at a fairly regular rate. Probably well over half an hour pass, when she finally seems to recover.

He sits her down. Penelope watches him save and shut down the computers, without stopping him. He walks to the coat rack and take her jacket. -That's enough for today.- it is neither an order, nor a suggestion, nor a sentence, but a fact. She doesn't protest even in this case and lets him help her prepare. -I'll take you home.- again it sounds like something just right, perfectly aligned in the things of the world. Inside the elevator he makes her lean against him, without making her feel suffocated. He opens the car door for her, sings for her while driving. Luke accompanies her to the living room. -Whatever you need, you know, I'm here. You can ask me anything.- and she would like to dare, for once, asking him to make love with her, because only this could erase or at least remove the images that swirl in her head. But she knows Luke would say yes and it wouldn't be fair. It would be like going back, exploiting him, and he doesn't deserve it.

So she just nods. Expecting him at least to demand something in return for everything he's done for her, that she didn't deserve it at all, after what she'd done to him, even if in good faith. Because that's how anyone would have behaved, but not him. -You know my number…- he says, walking towards the door.

This time she stops him just like he'd hoped. -No, Luke, don't go, it's not true that I'm ashamed to be with you or that I think you're not good enough for me.- she resumes that speech that has never been clarified, because for her it's a fundamental point. -You are exactly the opposite; you are so much that…- he sees himself perfectly mirrored in her fears. -I have just...- she smiles, embarrassed. -... a big problem with commitment.- it's an understatement, but she finally said it herself. The elephant is no longer invisible and is not even that bulky.

Luke laughs without any malice. -It makes me think of someone we both know.- but Penelope stays serious, intent on clarifying everything and not with the hope that there may still be a future with him, simply because he deserves to know the truth. And it's his call to decide what he will do with it.

-Really, you don't know, but…- he shuts her up gently raising the hand.

He nods. -Yes, I know.- should she really be surprised? -You've received marriage and move-in proposals and you always declined.- she wonders if she has to blame JJ or Emily, but it's much more likely the former. -I knew you had these fears, that there was a wall to break down.- well, up to here it was pretty obvious. -And what about mine?- he asks her, without giving her time to provide an answer. -But I thought it would have been different between us.- here, and she knew it, she knew the responsibility of being "the" person for him and she didn't feel up to his expectations. Because she's not at all the miracle he thinks she is. -I believed that we were already something, that we belonged to each other even if we weren't together. This is what hurt me the most.- hearing this, she decides to sent to hell the sensible speech full of apologies she prepared.

The fault it's of the intensity of everything he says, which never, never feels forced or fake. -But you gave up.- she can't stop the accusation from coming out. -So it's me who isn't worth enough.- it's a real provocation and she hits the target.

For the first time Luke seems able to get angry with her again. -What was I supposed to do?- he overwhelms her with words. -Live only for those half hours with you in my sheets? Make you wear a chastity belt? Accept the idea that you dated other men?- she shakes her head and he shakes her, without hurting her. -No?- Penelope moves her lips but no sound comes out. -I was freaking out. You have to tell me, what I should have done with you?- he keeps holding her by the shoulders.

And eventually she manages to say the one right thing out of a hundred thousand wrong. -You should have... Just held me tighter that night.- it sounds so simple, the way things usually are, we're the ones who enjoy complicating them. -You shouldn't have give up, or let me go to my house.- she understands that he has partly misunderstood and diverts his thoughts in the right direction. -I mean that night, when I ran away.- she sighs. From her point of view, she concluded. Now it's his turn.

-I have to impose myself, is this what you want?- he seems really confused, because in spite of his macho, Latino, tough man appearance, "the first to arrive and last to leave from war hotspots", he has always been a piece of bread with her . -Do you want me to force you to do what you too want without being certain that it's really what you want?- the furrowed brow makes him too tender. Penelope nods and hugs him.

-It's my turn to impose myself. Don't leave. In these years… there has never been anyone else. I tried to… free you of the burden of putting up with me, because I didn't want you to waste your life waiting for me. Without knowing when or if I would ever be able to unlock myself. But it wasn't right, it was very selfish of me and I'm sorry, because I love you deeply and I never wanted to make you sof…- the only way to stop the raging river is to press her face against his chest.

They tremble together, clinging to each other like castaways that are fearing the moment they will be separated. -…that time, you know, there was no girl. I had an appointment at the groomer for Roxy.- she immediately understands what he's referring and gives him a weak punch. -I would like...- he starts, but then changes his mind. -I want the team to know about us, that the whole world know how much I'm... We're lucky.- it's a legitimate claim. -Here, I said it.- but he has no intention of regretting it at all. She nods. -So… no more silences between us?- she can only echo him. For just one day she passed trough enough emotional shocks.

-No more.-

Both seem to hear a song in the distance.

I ask you, again, your mouth again, on my neck again, to stay again, consume me again, because I still love you! Again, again, again!

-

Note: As I promised, I came back also on FF garvez world. I missed it. This is my version of what it could happen in the first episodes of Criminal Minds: Evolution. This is also the only understandable reason that I can see to explain Adam's phrase. Yes, I'm obsessed with it. It just makes no sense. Especially by him, i.e. by Luke. Because Luke is clearly still in love with her, so what? Surely it will not be his "fault" if they aren't (yet) together at the beginning of season 16. We can't forget that Penelope hates changes. And at the end of S15, her life changed a lot. Because of her, so what? It's still hard. Her work place. The possible relationship with Luke. And then... covid. Too much to face at once. But this will not be enought to stop them to finally become a thing. Just give them time. Thank to all of you that read this! Note 2: the expression on the lyrics "to make me die" means... making love. My mother explained it to me just few months ago. Yeah, I'm (a bit) naive about some stuff! But I think it's perfect for someone that can't find the courage to be happy, like (maybe) Penelope and Luke, at least in my ff.

Oh, with this one I reached 2000 pages (1191300 words) just with garvez ff.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 19

First time reader click here

Summary+TWs: We're talking serious feelings here, okay? Reader, you're literally emotionally illiterate. You also have PTSD, which is finally addressed - kinda. Bruce does his best. And he also knows how to kiss... But y'all know that if you read my ramblings about lucid dreaming/shifting/whatever... Chile-, anyways...

My phone kept buzzing and I ignored it until Bruce declared it was time to take a break and review the results. Whilst the man was typing up the data on a nearby StarkPad, I fought the sudden influx of messages that I received from haters and supporters alike after Tony decided on tweeting a reply that could be interpreted in an alarming variety of ways. It was a smart move, I'll admit, but a fucking bother for me nonetheless.

Disabling my DMs and dealing with a follower increase in the thousands wasn't hard; I didn't consider myself a problematic asshole and didn't need to be afraid of "exposure". The parties I went to - I doubted there was any blackmail material in there and the few nudes I'd sent over the years were always face-less. As a gen Z, I knew my internet safety.

The trolls didn't bother me either. It was more sad than annoying, people shitting on others for clout. Iron Man stans were witty, at least, if jealous. I must admit I've never considered the influx of popularity I would experience should I publicly out myself as a friend of Tony's. Girlfriend? Intern? Science child? Whatever cover story he was going to feed the press worked for me, as long as I still got the hugs, the kisses, the dick and the attention.

"Tony..." Bruce groaned, evidently done with the data processing, had to have opened his social media to see his own skyrocketing popularity.

"Yeah, our Tony is being a Tony again," I chuckled, having reset my social media settings so my phone wouldn't constantly beep, vibrate and bother me. School was going to be fun.

Bruce shook his head, fond, coming over to my side of the lab after removing his own hazmat suit. His eyes shiny with newfound knowledge and hair turned adorably fluffy in the confines of the head covering. He was smiling softly. "Food?"

"Sure."

We chewed our sandwiches in silence for a moment, each of us lost in our thoughts.

"I still can't believe Tony told everyone on Twitter you're his girlfriend, usually he keeps this stuff private or schedules a fancy press conference," Bruce's tone was thoughtful.

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that what it was? Seemed ambiguous to me..." I trailed off, confused.

"He worded it like that on purpose, I mean, you're still in high school," The scientist was confident in his words. "But I know Tony. I'm a hundred percent sure that he meant exactly that. Aren't you?"

Shock flooded me. Suddenly, I understood I completely misread the situation. "Um, no? I thought we were, y'know, just fucking. We never defined our relationship and we're definitely not exclusive." I said, chewing on my lip. "You make a valid argument, I'm a high school student and he's a grown ass man that does grown man stuff. Putting aside the fact that he could have anybody in the world so why would he choose me?" I was rambling, thinking out loud. Discussing my feelings has never my strong forte. "It would be stupid to impose monogamy on such a complex man like Tony. Downright idiotic to expect a genius to confine to social norms just because it suits others." I finished with a wave of my hand. Another bubble of thought that had festered within me for the longest time. I felt relieved, finally voicing it out loud. A weight had been lifted off my shoulders, a weight I wasn't previously consciously aware of.

Bruce was watching me intently, with an unreadable expression that held the tiniest bit of awe, admiration perhaps. The silence that followed was unnerving. I fidgeted with my hands, not really knowing where to put them or where to look.

"You know," He took off his glasses, fiddling them in his hands. "I'm not going to sugar coat it. For the longest time, I thought you were going to inadvertently hurt him when you get bored with whatever you've got going on. I respect you, don't misunderstand me, but you are young. Now, I've changed my mind. You've changed my mind," He punctuated his statement with his hand on mine, grasping it. "I think you managed to understand him in a way most people can't. Or don't want to. Understand and accept him in a way that some of us can't even after years of working and living side by side with him." Bruce's gentle fingers skimmed along the top of my palm.

"I don't always understand Tony but I do accept him," I agreed. "Because Tony is a great man."

"I think you're in love with him," Bruce said, absolutely having ignored my previous statement. Just like that, point blank, he pushed to the surface the very feelings I got so good at ignoring. There was no rest for me in this place.

My heart fluttered, picking up the pace. I kept my mouth shut, not trusting it whatsoever. My thoughts became akin to panicked hares, jumping and zigzagging aimlessly in my skull. I didn't see the point in defending myself because the scientist had pointed out the obvious.

Bruce looked at me, softly, warmly. "And don't think we haven't noticed the rise in team morale. The improvement not only in communication, but on the battlefield, too. It's easier to entrust your back to someone with whom you've shared a laugh and a drink the previous night. You're the glue that keeps us together."

Something warm and wet was on my cheeks. I stared at our clasped hands, his words echoing in my head over and over and over. The moment I realized I was crying, I willed myself to stop and failed spectacularly - only more salty fluid streamed down, some of it getting in my nose, on my lips. The sleepless nights were making me unstable.

It took a single sniffle for Bruce to pick me up and wrap up in his kind embrace. I didn't resist, tucking my face into the crook of his neck, holding onto the back of his lab coat, inhaling the smell of his skin and chemicals. It was familiar, calming. Minutes ticked by with me slowly leaking the tension out of my body.

"He loves you, too, maybe he just doesn't realize it yet." Bruce whispered into my hair. "I've never seen Tony so happy, even with Pepper. You are special and you are loved."

There was something unsaid, I felt it. It hung in the ear, it burned the tips of my ears, stood sharp on the tip of my tongue. "I love you too, Bwucie-bear," I whispered into the space between his ear and his jaw. His arms tightened around me.

The man placed several chaste kisses in my hair, running a palm over my back. In moments like these, the crush for him, the very crush that got out of control, blossomed fully into a deep sense of respect and admiration. He made me feel safe. He said all the right words at the right time.

Drowsiness overtook me. As usual, any worries and anxieties I had evaporated, once Banner had his arms around me, shielding me from the world. I didn't forbid myself this time: delicately, my hand slipped through the man's soft messy curls, eliciting a contented sigh.

"You haven't been sleeping well," He more stated than asked.

I had no choice but to nod. "Clint keeps dying in my dreams. Or even worse, he doesn't, he just suffers, endlessly, painfully." I admitted.

Bruce flinched under me, tensing. My face was in between his hands in a second, the scientist sternly looking into my eyes. "Why didn't you say anything? All of us assumed you were okay after what happened." He looked - angry. Not Hulk-out pissed but Bruce-pissed, which equalled a kicked-puppy look seasoned with a great pinch of disappointment.

"I am okay." I lied, shamelessly. "It's getting better. That's why I want to have a party - relax a little, dance, socialize. I don't think Tony would let me go on my own so I figured I can convince him to throw one here." I looked away. It was better for everyone if I dealt with my own problems - they were superheroes, not babysitters.

Bruce frowned. "Why wouldn't Tony let you go?"

"Because of that one time I snorted coke," I rolled my eyes at Bruce's naiveté, leaving the less obvious parts unsaid. Tony knew exactly what I was going to do once I got free reign, he considered it destructive and told me so himself. Admittedly, he had a point but still... I wished I'd been given a choice.

"I'll talk to him," Bruce nodded firmly. "That's not acceptable. He can't forbid you from making mistakes and learning from them."

He was met with my shrug. No excitement came from me regarding this particular turn of conversation. I was drained, limbs like jello, thoughts sluggish. My face was drooping.

"Let's get you to bed," Banner stood up with me wrapped around him. "You need a nap."

"No," I protested. If I went to sleep now, only Satan knew at what ungodly hour I would wake up.

"Yes, Princess," Bruce smirked. I wiggled uncomfortably - when he went all caretaker like, my ovaries wreaked havoc on my body and brain. My thoughts weren't appropriate if Bruce wanted me to see him as a father figure. The signals he was sending were mixed. People around me did that a lot and I wasn't sure how to act so I usually just went with the flow. I decided to do the very same thing in that particular moment.

Curiosity sparked within me, tightly interwoven with the deep longing that settled below my collarbones whenever Tony or one of the others wasn't sitting next to me or talking my ear off. I've almost forgotten how it was to be alone with my thoughts. The maze of my very own self was becoming unfamiliar territory. Alarming.

I allowed Bruce to help me shed my shoes and outer layer of clothing, shivering in the coolness of my room. Despite being a frequent visitor, I still had a 'guest' room in the tower - I mostly stayed at Tony's or Wanda's anyways. During our sleepovers neither me nor the witch minded sharing her enormous bed, to be fair, we could have fit at least two more people in it besides us. Tony took care of his own - all the tower's residents had their apartments furnished with the best stuff.

"Sleep now, Princess," Bruce chastised, tucking a blanket around me, having noticed an earbud in my ear and my smartphone in my hand. I had hoped to kill some time online, damn well knowing sleep wouldn't come easy.

"I don't think I can fall asleep, Bruce," I admitted, looking away. There was just so much going on. My brain wouldn't shut up and if I couldn't drown out the cacophony by being productive, I'd troll the internet, as usual.

Banner sighed, coming to sit next to me, leaning against the headboard. Gently running his fingers through my hair, brushing the outside of his palm against my cheek. "How do you usually deal with this?"

Involuntarily, my eyelashes fluttered. "Tony does most of the work," I admitted coyly. The engineer had a whole arsenal of tricks up his sleeve - sexy and exhausting tricks.

"I see," Bruce muttered, thoughtfully.

I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me with a look I haven't seen before. The usual mildly absent, slightly anxious face he wore was replaced by something I could only describe as hurt envy, like a kid looking at their schoolmate who had all the newest, coolest toys. I used to be on the receiving end of that look far too often and I hated it.

I hid my face against his leg, rubbing my cheek on the raspy corduroy fabric of his pants. "Got any good ideas of your own?" I wondered lowly, thinking about what in the world possessed Bruce to wear corduroy trousers on a semi-casual day, in the twenty-first century.

"Only bad ideas," He replied in a matching low tone. His soft fingertips relocated to my nape, goosebumps rising down my back.

"Humour me," I grinned against his leg.

Bruce was quiet for a moment, the sound of his thinking screaming louder than any words could have done. Knowing the scientist so closely, I found out he was full of surprises - bolder than he appeared outwardly and competitive to a boot. He thought he had a lot to prove to himself and by extension, to others. The unknown, the mystery dangling in front of my nose was exhilarating, trepidation addictive. It took me away from the chaos in my mind.

A gentle grasp on my chin had me turning to look upwards, Bruce's face flushed and focused on my own, open and trusting. He needed to see the obvious, that I trusted him to take care of me. He pulled and I followed, sitting up on my elbows, coming up to his shoulder level, our faces inches apart, enveloped in the unique, intense scent of his herbal tea. It was a tart, strong smell and it suited his quiet but passionate character.

Once, twice, I caught my eyes sliding to his plump lips. They looked far too appealing in this position. I usually strategically stayed away from positions so compromising, fearing the very thing that I'd already let happen, however this time the atmosphere was different. We stood on ambiguous grounds, waiting for Bruce to make a decision.

The man wasn't stupid, he saw the way I looked at him. The nightmares and inability to take a break from life put a significant dent in my resolve to keep a distance between us, romantically - I could have settled even for a pity kiss, a pity fuck. Anything to put my brain on pause.

His lips were softer than I had imagined. Skilled, too, he easily steered the kiss into the shallow waters of our combined longing.

With Tony, it was like an avalanche. Tony ran hot like Peterbilt engines, hard and fast, almost angry in his race for satisfaction. Tony was a man that was used to getting whatever he wanted and it became plainly obvious when we fucked.

Bruce was the opposite. He savoured the kiss, losing himself in a way that could almost be described as delicate. Bruce was humming, softly, as we tasted each other, holding the left side of my face with careful fingertips. Almost as if he was afraid to break me. The feel of his skin on mine was soothing in a way that made me sigh and relax even further.

"Wanna make you feel good." His voice had dropped, gone husky, but his breathing held even. He must know all about self-control.

"Yeah," I was ready to agree with whatever the fuck he was offering. My eyelids remained shut.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

PS. Letsby, please don't combust. The underwear is coming off in the next chapter. 😶

[chubbyheroesworthyheroes]

I don't know if you're still doing these, but if you are: 🐮Ephraim, transformation courtesy of Lyon? Pretty please?

It wasn’t unusual for Lyon to ask for the Renais twins help with something. They’d all been friends since they were quite young, and though neither of them were as well versed in the sciences and magics that Lyon was, they would offer whatever assistance they could give their friend. As it so happened, Eirika was away – off visiting Tana – so when Lyon came asking for help with an experiment, Ephraim was the only one available to head over to Grado. 

Ephraim wasn’t any good with magic, and science was similarly not a strong point of his. However, when given the general gist of whatever his friend was attempting to accomplish, he was always eager to give his opinion and help out – often by gathering ingredients and other things that Lyon needed.

When arriving, Ephraim was quick to ask what this new focus was – Lyon explaining in his soft manner about how he wanted to help the farmlands of Grado. The year had been particularly dry so far, and as such, some areas were struggling to maintain their livestock. Less food to go around meant that cattle were taking longer and were more expensive to raise, and dairy cows weren’t producing as much milk either. He didn’t want any of his people to suffer on account of the bad rash of weather, so Lyon was devising a spell that he could use to infuse the livestock with heartier stature. If they could just put on weight easier with less food, it would go a long way to helping the Grado farmlands. 

“So, this will make it easier to raise cows?�� Ephraim asks, looking intently at the tome Lyon was skimming through.

“More or less…I haven’t tried something like this before, so it’s going to be a bit of trial and error. I’m hoping to get through it all quickly, however…People are really starting to feel the pinch,” Lyon spoke, excitement and worry mingling in his voice as he flips through aged pages. “You have the pitcher of milk ready?”

Grinning, Ephraim hefts up the jug, the cool liquid sloshing inside as he does so. “Right here!”

Taking a steadying breath, Lyon nods. “Okay…here we go.”

Index finger hovering underneath the text, the Grado prince begins to speak the incantation written within the tome, his other hand outstretched toward the pitcher that Ephraim was holding. Magical energy builds up in his outstretched palm, a familiar tingle, and a soft, lavender light beams from the built up magic out toward the pitcher of milk. Ephraim has to squint his eyes a bit against the light, watching curiously as the milk within the pitcher seems to sparkle and shimmer, before it suddenly vanishes.

“Uh…huh?”

The two young men blink, baffled at what had just happened. 

“Was that…supposed to evaporate into nothing?” Ephraim laughs, holding the now empty pitcher upside down in good natured amusement.

Lyon shakes his head, humming softly in confusion as he brings his attention back to the text in the book. “I don’t understand…It was supposed to bolster the milk – which, when given to the cows, would make the healthier and sturdier. It wasn’t a teleportation spell…” Now focused on puzzling out what went wrong – had he misspoken a line of the enchantment? – Lyon is oblivious to the speedy changes that are starting to effect his friend.

“Well, we can always try again, right?” Ephraim encourages, setting the pitcher down and shrugging. He feels a little funny all of a sudden, a strange tingle along his skin that immediately puts him in mind of the way the spell had caused the milk to sparkle. A faint sense of worry of struck him at the thought, wondering if he should have been so close when Lyon used the spell. Of course, this worry is punted to the back of his brain when he starts to feel flushed and feverish, the tingle in his skin only seeming to sink in deeper to permeate the entirety of his body.

He shifts his weight from foot to foot, face red as he feels his chest buzz with that odd tingling sensation, trying to ignore it for a moment, but the feeling only increasing as the seconds tick by. With Lyon buried in his tome, muttering to himself, Ephraim seizes the chance to – with some embarrassment, mind you – paw at his chest, stifling a moan when his hand presses against his almost painfully stiff nipples. He’s glad that he’d not donned his armor, as it would have been hellish to deal with this tingling feeling and not be able to touch where it was. However, on the flip side of that boon, it was easier to tell that something wasn’t quite right.

Fingers pressed against his nipple, Ephraim bit down on a gasp when he felt his chest…well, grow. Turning around quickly, just in case his friend decided to get his nose out of that old book, Ephraim brought both hands up to cup at his chest, flabbergasted when he felt his pecs swell out against his palms. He whimpered at the way his already form fitting shirt chafed against his hard nipples as his chest puffed out – toned pecs blooming into perky man boobs. 

A quick look over his shoulder reassures him that Lyon is still lost in his own world, trying to puzzle everything out about what went wrong.

Maybe it would stop – maybe it wouldn’t be too noticeable?

Those optimistic thoughts are quickly squashed when Ephraim feels the tingle increase in other areas of his body, too. His abdomen goes uncomfortably warm, and it doesn’t take long for him to see it begin to bulk up against his shirt just the same as his chest had. His lean and well maintained abs bloat out into a hard, round gut, straining his shirt so terribly that it gives up without much fight at all, hitching up to rest under his breasts; his newly formed belly is now fully on display, and the tightness of his shirt against his now plush chest makes it embarrassingly easy to see his nipples under the material. His thighs and ass are quick to follow the rest of him, plumping up to fill out his pants and then begin to strain them – they hold up better than his shirt, for the moment, at least.

Ephraim squirms and groans, slapping a hand to his mouth just a little too late, whipping his head around to look over his shoulder again. Lyon is still engrossed with his book, taking a moment only to murmur something that could have been, “Ephraim, please, I’ve almost figured it out.”

Breathing a short sigh of relief, Ephraim’s attention is brought back to his bloating body. The bigger he gets, the worse it seems to become – his weight increasing faster and faster. He feels so heavy and so warm, it’s getting difficult to stay standing. Glancing around for a moment, fingers idly playing with his enlarged tits, Ephraim spots a chair set up near the long table he’d put the pitcher down on and makes a waddling beeline towards it. He plops down onto it weightily, breasts and belly jiggling with the movement, a grunt escaping him as he settles into the chair. It creaks as he adjusts himself on it, the Renais royal resting his hands on his stomach as he tries to catch his breath.

Ugh, why did this feel so weirdly good to him? He should be utterly appalled, watching himself blow up like a pig, but he’s never felt more aroused than right now. It was getting harder and harder to keep his mouth shut, keep his hands from exploring and groping his expanding form. He was so damn hot! It was getting unbearable! Weight climbing higher, chair complaining underneath him as it bore the brunt of his fat backside, Ephraim shuddered as he felt his thighs grow fat enough to split his pants’ seams down the legs, varying sizes of holes springing up and oozing chubby flesh. The sleeves of his shirt weren’t faring any better, struggling to contain the fleshy rolls of his arms until they simply couldn’t stretch any further, rips tearing free and easing up some of the stress on his fat arms. 

He muffled a groan with his hand, round cheeks scarlet as he felt his ass begin to overtake the chair, bulbous cheeks and thighs flowing over the sides of the seat. Of course, this wasn’t helped any by the fact that his expanding gut was getting so large and cumbersome that it was forcing his blubbery legs apart. Thick love handles protruded from his sides, creating a crease as they fought for space with his ballooning stomach. Ephraim felt so amazingly bloated, his fattening belly lacking the rolls he had seen on some of the older, fat nobles of the court, but making up for it in sheer, weighty roundness. His belly was no longer hard, as it had been at the beginning; the fat having turned soft and squishy as it became more abundant on his frame. His breasts were so large and heavy, they now rested atop the curve of his gut, even spilling over the sides and forcing his fat arms to hang awkwardly at his sides.

A sudden cracking sound rent the air, and all Ephraim had time to do was yelp as his round body came crashing down to the floor. His fat body wobbles furiously as he lands hard on his plush ass, the force of it all finally causing his horribly tight shirt to split right down the middle, his soft moobs bouncing out free – the sudden movement causing something to leak from his puffy nipples. Ephraim can’t take it anymore, a loud, moaning moo bellowing out from his mouth as he lays there on his back. 

All this racket finally breaks Lyon away from his tome, a surprised squeak escaping his lips as he clutches the book to his chest, eyes wide as he takes in the enormously fattened form of his friend. “…E…Ephraim?”

The Renais prince, however, is too far gone now to even hear his friend. He’s so enraptured with his own body, with the way he continues to get bigger, and how damned fucking hot it all makes him, that he can do little more than grope at his fat belly and lactating teats and moan. He can feel how hard he is, but his erection is fully outside of the reach of his sausage-like fingers, buried under the incredible weight of his gut, the weeping tip of it pressing and throbbing uselessly into his own softness. Instead, fat fingers are tugging jerkily at his tits, prompting generous rivulets of milk to erupt from the engorged nipples as he moans and moos wildly.

Lyon is bewildered – first of all, at how this all happened so quickly without him noticing, and second…at how he finds himself reacting to this transformation of his close friend. It had always been Ephraim to protect him, look after him, and something in his chest fluttered at being able to take care of the other young man for a change. It was obvious that Ephraim wouldn’t be able to move from Lyon’s chambers here, he could barely do much more than use his arms stuntedly and shimmy back and forth in a movement that was easy to guess at – he was too massive and fat to get at his own dick, so Ephraim was trying to create as much delicious friction for himself as possible. 

Still a bit shy, at first, Lyon sets his book down and approaches Ephraim in halting steps. He sees cute, nubby little horns pop up out of his friend’s teal hair, and swears he’s starting to see faint spots like that of a cow’s coming in on the other’s skin. Milk is dribbling down Ephraim’s chest, full and overflowing, like two small, white waterfalls trickling down the crest of his globular belly; some of the liquid getting caught in his cavernous belly button as it makes its descent. Getting closer now, close enough to reach out a nervous but excited hand to his friend’s heaving gut – heavens above, he can even feel the way he’s expanding, getting fatter and fatter as he lays there – Lyon can see the silvery sheen of stretch marks all over Ephraim’s soft body. They’re almost pearlescent, and Lyon can’t help but find them beautiful as he traces slim, pianist fingers along their growing paths. 

And to his eyes, they are like paths – a map of stars to the wondrous, ever expanding galaxy that was his best friend.

Ephraim is lowing at him desperately, eyes far away and feverish, begging to be touched…to be loved and cared for, and worshiped.

“…Oh, Ephraim…You will take care of my people in their time of need, and I…? I will take care of you,” Lyon whispers reverently, his slim form pressing daintily into Ephraim’s giving bulk, lips touching ever so gently against the swelling curve of the prince-turned-cow’s belly as the other bellows in climax, inflated breasts becoming heavier with rich milk. 

[freudensteins-monster]

“People like that... corporations like that, they have all the money, they have all the power, and they use it to make people like you go away. Right now, you're suffering under an enormous weight. We provide... leverage.”

[weprovide--leverage]

People like that, corporations like that -- they have all the money. They have all the power. And they use it to make people like you go away. Right now, you're suffering under an enormous weight. We provide leverage.