#and depending on how powerful it is it would either just fill his energy banks

[p2ii]

Atlas letting Uran and Denkou take him out during storms to see what happens if he were to get struck by lightning

[angryschnauzer]

Undercover Honeymoon

Summary; Having survived a helicopter crash that killed off the gang you and your senior agent had infiltrated, you hide out from the storm that brought the aircraft down by pretending to be Honeymooners at a boutique hotel... but what will 24 hours with August Walker bring you? Trouble, that’s what, and the best possible kind.

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (no race or body type specified)

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut, honestly this is entirely smut, its a crack fic too. Sigh, here goes: face slap, murder, August in a hoodie and grey sweatpants, oral sex (female recieving), blowjob, drunken antics, impared judgement, titty fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, anal sex, inappropriate lube, multiple orgasms, dubious consent, choking, dom-vibes, Sugar Daddy arrangement (but no Daddy kink).

I do not run a tag list, but if you go and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and hit notifications, you’ll get an alert to any new stories i post. All previous fics can be found on there or on my Ao3

Undercover Honeymoon

The helicopter spiralled out of control, the tall pines looming through the storm of the century rain, screaming filled your ears, unsure if it was the sound of the engines failing or coming from your own lungs. The aircraft made contact with the trees and everything went black.

-

“Agent… AGENT!” a slap across your face sprang you from your unconscious state, your vision blurred and you winced at the sharp pain that shot through your temple as the face before you came into focus.

“Walker?” you muttered; “Can’t blow our cover…”

Strong arms gripped your shoulders;

“Wake UP! Everyone else is dead”

The next hour was surreal. Agent Walker - your superior officer - had pulled you from the wreckage of the helicopter, past the lifeless bodies of the gang you’d infiltrated, some of which had injuries that looked suspiciously like gunshot wounds. Either way you were alive and so was the other undercover agent, and having spent the last four days running bank robberies you were relieved to be rid of the brutal gang.

Agent Walker had half dragged half carried you through the forest, and even though it was the middle of the day, the torrential rain and dark storm clouds above made the way feel like you were travelling at twilight. When you stumbled on some roots he caught you, his arm firmly around your waist;

“C’mon Agent, not much further now…” his voice softer than usual, reassuring even.

“Where’re we going?”

“Out of season ski lodge… should be quiet this time of year, just a couple of wildlife watchers no doubt”

-

What you’d been expecting was a cute little place with checkered curtains and cutesy decor, what you’d arrived at was a luxury boutique hotel. Agent Walker had managed to spin a very convincing tale of your car leaving the highway due to the weather and he’d arrange to get it recovered after the storm so you could continue your ‘honeymoon’. The receptionist had smiled warmly and offered the pair of you the luxury suite, August merrily peeling $100 bills off a stack he’d produced from his pocket, the paper band that held them together from the robbery slyly crumpled up and you quietly picked it up from the floor, a tiny smirk on the corner of his face when he spotted you covering his rare mistake.

-

Ten minutes later you were settled in your shared room, starting to peel yourself out of your soaked boots and clothing as you eyed the enormous bathroom and ultra fluffy robes that were provided.

“I’m going to go to the gift shop…” he announced, breaking the silence; “They do hoodies and stuff, i’ll grab some dry things to change into…”

“Thanks Agent Walker… I’m going to take a bath…”

He nodded quietly, standing at the door;

“It’s August… call me August”

You must have fallen asleep in the bath, as the next thing you know there is an insistent knocking on the bathroom door;

“Honey? Honey, everything ok in there?”

“Y-yes, Sorry, fell asleep…”

“Ok Honey, just got room service here delivering some lunch”

“Thanks Aug… Augie…”

Augie? Where the hell did that come from? You mentally chastised yourself. An hour ago he was your senior agent and all round grumpy supervisor, now he was ‘Augie’? You actually facepalmed yourself before taking a deep breath and climbing out of the bath. A few moments later once you were dry, wearing the fluffy robe you stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, your breath catching in your throat;

“Augie… we have company?”

Agent Walker was standing in the middle of the room in his shirt, underwear and socks, talking to the room service attendant as he tipped the young man;

“Darling, lunch is here, you must be famished” he let a warm smile spread over his face as he turned to the staff member; “We must have a bite to eat… expending lots of energy, it is our honeymoon after all…”

Once he’d ushered the man out of the room he cleared his throat and his expression dropped, his face serious again;

“I got your new attire… it fits more with the location” he motioned for you to follow him to the bed where there were a number of things laid out, however your feet were rooted to the floor; “What?”

“You’re… you’re in your underwear…”

He looked down, almost in shock to discover he was without his cargo pants;

“Yes? And you’re completely naked beneath that fetching white robe” he motioned to a side of the bed where a bunch of things were sat on the pristine white duvet; “So unless you wish to eat lunch having me know you are naked save for a glorified towel with sleeves - and that would be a delightful thought - you may want to get changed whilst i shower”

Without another word he smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and grabbed a pile of clothing on the bed, before sauntering into the bathroom, leaving you open jawed at both his sassiness and his tight ass in snug jersey boxers.

Turning back to what was laid on the bed you looked over what he’d managed to get in the hotel’s boutique; a daringly short floral summer dress, a hoodie with the Hotel’s logo on, a pack of novelty thong panties also with bears on, and the highest heeled wedge sandals you’d ever seen. Although none of this surprised you, it was after all the kind of hotel where in good weather, the rich and famous could have cocktails on the deck as they overlooked the Rocky mountains, the fact he’d managed to find your exact size in everything was impressive.

Leaving the heels off for now, you pull the panties and dress on, throwing the hoodie on unzipped to cover up a little, before going to investigate the food, realising that you probably hadn’t eaten for close to 24 hours. You were bent over the service trolley scrutinising the various dishes that had been delivered when you heard his voice;

“Huh, didn’t need to buy you a wallet, those tiny panties show off your silken purse beautifully Princess”

Spinning around you gasped, about to give him a piece of your mind but your train of thought stopped like a record scratch. There before you stood Agent August Walker, grey sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips, chest bare as he pulled a khaki green hoodie over his still damp curls. You noticed how his beard was a little beyond stubble, his mustache curling as a small smile tugged as his lips. Your gaze unashamedly ran down the length of his entire body, emphasis on length as it was clear he was without any underwear, and those rumours that were quietly whispered in the ladies room at the Pentagon were looking to be true as to exactly why they called him ‘The Hammer’.

Still holding a cooling French Fry he sauntered over to you before grabbing a sandwich from the platter;

“My apologies… that was inappropriate” he took a bite, before talking with his mouth full; “Been a crazy 24 hours huh?”

“Y-yeah, you could say that… so, what’s the plan?”

Just at that moment an incredible gust of wind rattled the windows to the point you thought they would blow in, the lights overhead flickered before settling back to bright as he answered;

“Eat, Drink, Sleep. We’re stuck here at least overnight. We don’t have any cells or electronics people can trace, and having checked the map this is not the closest civilisation to the crash site so even if people did come looking for us, this isn’t the first place they’d think of… however in this weather the roads are impassable, at least two rivers have breached their banks, we’re basically cut off from the rest of the world here in our own little bubble” he took a bite of sandwich before grinning at you; “So eat up, the bar downstairs is well stocked, dinner is apparently served in about 4 hours, and there’s a game room if you’re up for a round or two of pool…”

-

Giggling you both tumbled into your suite, August flicking the light switch up and down before realising the power had gone out at the exact moment he’d unlocked the door;

“Oooh dark… are you afraid of the dark Princess?”

The pair of you stumbled and turned, pushing the door shut and you found yourself pressed between it and August’s body, his lips finding your neck as he pressed kisses along your jugular, his facial hair leaving behind a trail of tingling skin in its wake;

“Depends who i’m in the dark with…”

He was so close, in the faint last traces of daylight as the storm took hold of the night you could see the outline of his face, how his long eyelashes rested against his cheeks as he closed his eyes, his breath warm on your skin as you were surrounded by his scent, pine soap and single malt whiskey;

“A monster…”

“I was never afraid of monsters…”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, pressing a kiss to your clothed stomach before his hands were beneath the skirt and pulling your novelty panties down;

“Hold your dress up Princess, show me that pretty pussy”

Doing as he told you, you gripped the pretty fabric in your hands as he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, pressing kisses to your inner thighs before his thick fingers parted your folds and he dived in. His mustache and light beard pricked at your sensitive skin, but his tongue and lips soothed your aching core, desperate for attention and dripping with need as he went to town on you. He quickly brought you to orgasm before pushing you on for the next, his fingers now knuckle deep in your velvet walls, curling just right to find that spot that had you dripping, his tongue working against your clit to the point where you had to steady yourself by curling one hand through his soft chestnut curls, riding his face as you cried out his name.

Now over sensitive, you pulled his curls to get him to relent, a grunt of frustration coming from between your thighs;

“Augie… please… too sensitive…”

He quickly stood, lifting you to kiss you roughly, his tongue pushing into your mouth and you could taste yourself on his tongue as he gripped your ass as he carried you across the room before unceremoniously dropping you on the bed;

“Strip” he commanded as he staggered to the bathroom. 

You ignored his request, instead reaching for a bottle of water at the side of the bed, taking a drink from he as he returned holding a bottle;

“August… what’s that?”

He looked down at the bottle, almost surprised he was holding something and blinked a few times before looking back at you;

“Baby oil. Its... Baby oil”

“Why do you have Baby oil?” you asked, already knowing the answer but with a sly streak wanting to get him to admit it

“Because they didn’t sell condoms in the gift shop so i cant fuck your pussy because i can’t check to see if you’re on birth control” he blurted out quickly.

Whatever you had been expecting, it hadn’t been that, and as you coughed on the water you had been about to drink, August got distracted and moved to light the candles that sat on the table in the centre of the room now that the only available light was the tiny light over the sink in the bathroom that was battery operated. You watched as he somehow managed to strike the matches and light the candles even though he was visibly drunk, before returning back to the bed and standing over you;

“Why aren’t you naked?” he frowned at you; “Don’t make me rip that pretty little dress off of you Princess”

Shimmying out of your dress you bit your lip as you watched him watching you, the low light dancing over your body and enough for you to see the obscene bulge barely contained by his sweatpants. He stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you before he took hold of your ankles and roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed before he pulled the grey sweats down and you finally got sight of his legendary hammer;

“Fuck…”

“We’ll get to that Princess, but first, suck”

Taking him in your hands he was hot and throbbing at your touch, his thick shaft patterned with veins, heavy and virile. You pumped your fist, your fingers unable to meet as you worked his uncut dick. You felt his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer until you had no choice but to open your mouth and take him as deep as you could, gagging as he immediately hit the back of your throat and started to fuck your mouth.

Holding your head in place with both hands he rocked his hips back and forth, groaning as he stretched your lips almost uncomfortably. Soon you had spit running down your chin as he rained down a stream of degrading compliments;

“Cock hungry slut, look at you with my dick in your mouth… does it taste good, Jesus christ your tongue is perfect, yeah do that thing again, fuck, i can feel your throat tight around me…” with a gasp he pulled out, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his angry red tip, before he grabbed the baby oil and pushed you back until you were laying flat on the bed;

“Push your tits together, i’m gonna fuck them and cum all over your pretty face”

He climbed on the bed, straddling your lower torso as you found yourself pushing your breasts together. The click of a bottle of baby oil and it was being poured in the valley of your chest, before he settled his dick against the slick skin. He dropped the bottle and with a grunt pulled his hoodie over his head, revealing his glorious chest, covered in dark hair and thicker than you had realised. 

His dick was heavy against your chest as he took your hands in his and showed you how he wanted you to hold your titties for him, rocking his hips bath and forth as his hot flesh slipped through your soft pillows, the angry tip poking out at your neck with each thrust;

“So fucking pretty, gonna cum all over that face… you wanna taste my cum you little slut? Yeah? Cock hungry slut, can’t get enough of my dick, can you?”

You didn’t answer, the lust in his eyes making you drunk with desire, instead you tipped your head to your chest and opened your mouth, letting August’s dick slide into your mouth, the salty tang of his precum hitting your senses.

His thrusts were becoming rough and violent, his hips squeezing your ribcage as he fought back against the urge to cum, but you wanted it, needed it;

“August, will you cum on my face, pretty please?” you batted your eyelashes at him innocently and it was the final straw, and you watched as he threw his head back and thick ropes of his creamy seed spurted over your mouth and cheeks as he groaned so deliciously. On the last spurt you leaned forwards and took his tip into your mouth, gently laving your tongue over the leaking slit, before releasing him softly. August had eased his gasp on your tits, and using his thick finger he scooped the cum from your cheek;

“Open wide Princess”

Sticking your tongue out you sucked the bitter treat from his finger, before he repeated it with the other cheek. Finally swallowing you grinned at him;

“Thank you August”

His hand paused on your cheek, softly cupping it;

“Anything for you Princess… now scoot up the bed, i wanna eat that pussy again whilst i get you ready for my dick”

He swung his leg over so you could wriggle up the bed, and immediately he was laying between your legs, both of your thighs over his shoulders as he started to sloppily eat you out again, except this time his lubed fingers strayed to your asshole and he already had one knuckle deep in your back entrance. You were writhing against his tongue, and although not as accurate with his targets this time now that the alcohol in his system was taking hold, that wide tongue was driving you to heaven as his fingers pulled you down into the dark pits of depravity that hell could only contain. You were uttering almost incomprehensible gibberish, begging for more which he eagerly gave, a second and soon a third finger stretching your ass as he prepared you for what was yet to come. You came with a scream as his wide tongue tormented your pussy until you had to physically pull him by his curls to stop, breathless as you watched him kneel on the bed and grab the baby oil, pouring some onto his hand to lube his dick before smoothing a considerable amount over your asshole and lined up his now raging hard on with your stretched hole. He paused, looking down at you;

“Final chance to back out… do you want me to fuck your ass?”

“Yes… please August, i want your dick in my ass, i want you to cum in my ass, treat me like a dirty anal slut”

With a groan he pushed forwards, slowly breaching your body and you felt the uncomfortable stretch of having a dick slide into your ass. Even with the prep and the oil it still took a while for your body to relax enough for him to push in, but when he eventually was balls deep in your ass you felt so full you were sure you would burst;

“Oh my god… You’re so big…”

“Taking me like a champ Princess, even with the oil your ass is so fucking tight i’m struggling not to blow my load right here and now”

“Fuck my ass August, do it hard, i wanna feel it in the morning…”

With a roar he started to fuck into you, holding himself up on his massive arms as his hips pistoned into you, filling your barren depths as his pubic bone rubbed against your empty pussy and your juices flooded his crotch;

“So fucking wet Princess, leaking all down your ass, its only adding to the lube so i can fuck you harder. Your poor little battered asshole, you’re barely gonna be able to sit tomorrow… apart from back on my dick as we have breakfast, don’t think this is the only time i’m gonna fuck your ass, i’m gonna use this hole until you’re loose and stretched, so i can just bend you over and slide my dick into your ass. Gonna hide those stupid panties i bought you, i want you walking around bare, my cum dripping down your legs where there’s so much inside you, you can barely keep it inside… shame the gift shop didn’t sell plugs, i woulda’ filled you with my load and have you plugged and ready lubed for me to use whenever i pleased…”

August’s dirty talk had you cumming hard, squeezing him tight and yet he fucked you straight through it. Laying limp as he continued to fill your ass he slowed and moved, kneeling on the bed as he moved your legs from either side of his lips until both your feet were over one of his shoulders, pushing and pulling you until he had one arm firmly wrapped around your knees and he could fuck into your ass as he held you like a rag doll. The new position was tighter, deeper, and as you started to pant out with lust his free hand rested on your throat, squeezing carefully but firmly;

“Harder…” you panted out, your head swimming as your airway was restricted, and as he pounded into your ass you were both getting close.

“Gonna cum in your ass, fill you up with a massive load, you want that Princess?”

You tried to say yes, but all that came out was a tiny croak as his massive hand gripped your throat. Before you could even try again your orgasm hit, your eyes rolling back in their sockets as you squirted, your body gripping him so tight he reached his peak, pushing in as deep as he could as he pumped your ass full of his cum.

August released his grip on your neck, pulling out gently as he softly lay your legs on the bed;

“Did so well Princess, such a good little slut…”

You could only hum out a response, your mind as used as your body was.

-

You woke to the sound of soft rain falling against the window, peering out from beneath the duvet you could see that the grey light of morning was filling the room, the storm seemingly blown mostly through with just a persistent rain now dampening the earth. Shifting on the bed you winced, everything was sore, but especially your ass. But then a warm body pressed to your back, a large hand smoothed over your stomach and a familiar voice spoke softly in your ear as stubble brushed against your bare shoulders;

“Rise and shine…”

“Hmmmmm no, i don’t wanna get up” you grumbled

“But…”

“Noooo. If we get up then we’ve got to think about things going back to normal, i just wanna pretend i’m able to stay in a hotel as nice as this when i’m not trying to escape a dangerous gang… too many responsibilities, too much stress… i just want another half hour of being treated like a Princess” you grumbled.

A quiet chuckle came from behind you;

“There’s no reason why we can’t do this again”

Turning in his arms, you looked at August;

“How? You’re my superior Agent, the CIA pushes and pushes and pushes, I never get enough time off to do something like this, If i had known i was literally signing my life away i would never have signed up for the academy. What’s the fucking use of earning a good wage if i can never enjoy it… and its not even that good of a wage to be honest…” you paused and narrowed your gaze; “Have you showered?”

“Yes. And i have a proposition for you…”

“Keep talking…”

August started to move, slowly climbing between your legs and you felt his hard dick resting against your folds, your pussy instinctively growing wet, slowly rubbing against you as he smiled down at you;

“As a senior agent i get a considerably better wage than you do, but i don’t have anyone to share it with, anyone to treat like a Princess and spoil with gifts that they deserve… but i also want someone that will be agreeable to my darkest desires…” he rocked his hips back before slowly parting his thighs, and you felt the nudge of his tip at your soaked pussy; “... someone, a woman i can treat like a Princess but will let me fuck them like a whore… can i fuck your pussy like a whore?”

The gentle nudge of his dick just stretching the ring of muscle that granted access to the heaven between your legs had you begging, pleading to be August’s Whore. He let out a sigh of pleasure as he slowly sank into your pussy, bare and unprotected filling you with his virile shaft;

“You’re my Slutty Princess…taking my dick like a pro”

In that hotel room August Walker became your sugar Daddy, and over room service breakfast you agreed the details of your arrangement as you sat on his lap, his dick in your ass as he fed you strawberries, before he grew impatient and bounced you on his dick until he came in your barren depths. Resting back against his chest, his softening dick still inside you he played with your pussy as he discussed the next step, trying to decide if a trip to an adult store or a jewellery store should be the first stop after returning to DC;

“How about a jewelled plug?” you suggested; “That’s the best of both worlds”

Holding your jaw he turned your head so he could kiss you, pulling away and grinning;

“See, that’s why you’re the perfect Princess, smart and sexy…”

You felt him start to harden in your ass again, wriggling and letting out a giggle as you felt him stretch your insides;

“Over the table or out on the balcony in the rain?” you asked

“Oooh lets do the balcony… its check out time so a few other guests will be able to see my little slut have her battered asshole filled with another load”

There on the balcony that overlooked the serene mountains August filled your ass again, your naked bodies soaked with the rain as he gripped your breasts whilst he fucked you from behind. 

You couldn’t wait to be August’s play thing.

[f107group4]

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: Fireflies by Owl City

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◄◄⠀▐▐ ⠀►►⠀⠀ ⠀ 1:17 / 3:48 ⠀ ───○ 🔊⠀ ᴴᴰ ⚙ ❐ ⊏⊐

Can you believe that these glowing light in the waters are sea fireflies? Everything is indeed never as it seems.

I bet you were awestruck[cod]! 

 Now, these millions of sea fireflies would like to wave “Hi!” as you go through the blog and get to know the bioluminescent ostracods under genus Vargula. 

CLASSIFICATION

          Kingdom: Animalia  

                Subkingdom: Bilateria                

                   Infrakingdom: Protostomia    

                      Superphylum: Ecdysozoa    

                         Phylum: Arthropoda    

                            Subphylum: Crustacea  

                               Class: Ostracoda          

                                  Subclass: Myodocopa            

                                     Order: Myodocopida

                                        Suborder: Myodocopina  

                                           Superfamily: Cypridinoidea        

                                              Family: Cypridinidae  

                                                 Genus: Vargula

                                                       Species Name: Vargula annecohenae

(ITIS nd ; Cohen and Morin, 2010)

BIOLOGY

Cod you see me?

Ostracods can be found in basically every aquatic environment ranging from marine, freshwater, and estuarine habitats. These organisms are either swimming in the surface waters or crawling on the sea bed and moist land. Their distribution depends on their adaptations to environmental parameters, mainly salinity and water temperature. Vargula species inhabit the Pacific Ocean and Caribbean Sea coastal landmasses (Wilkinson, 1996; Ogoh & Ohmiya, 2005). 

Although they are everywhere, ostracods rarely grow to a few millimeters long; small but (Pechenik, 2015). A single organism can’t be easily seen unless we look closely. Still, they’re small but widespread. 

What do you mistake me as?

Ostracoda is an ancient group of crustaceans. Surprised? 

The unsegmented external feature separates them from other crustaceans (Pechenik, 2015). Besides this, they resemble bivalves by having their entire body laterally enclosed inside a pair of partially calcified carapace or shells held by adductor muscles, even during early development; hence, the common name — mussel shrimp (Moore, 2006). 

They are also similar to branchiopods Conchostraca (clam shrimps) such as water fleas, but the appendages, lack of growth rings, and smooth swimming of mussel shrimps gave it away. Another feature that differentiates both is the carapace formation. Clam shrimps add material to their carapace as they grow, while mussel shrimps shed their carapace with each molt (UC Museum of Paleontology, 1995). 

Mussel shrimps are mostly head which means that the other body parts are greatly reduced. Their trunk is merged to the head. Usually, they have seven pairs of appendages adapted for locomotion, grasping, feeding, cleaning the carapace, or as sense organs. Vargula uses two pairs of antennae for swimming, some species only utilize one pair or the other. Notably, they have setae or tiny hairs protruding through the carapace pores that function for sensory mechanisms (Wilkinson, 1996;  Pechenik, 2015). 

A light show to remember

Bioluminescence is often used, but only by males of the species V. annecohenae, for mating displays. Males of each species, like fireflies on land, use distinct patterns of light flashes (seen as a series of dots) that only attract females of the same species. By performing brief dances in which they release short bursts of light as they pass towards the surface of the water, males show off just how sparkling they can be. They start their "dance," which lasts 45 minutes on average, with a stationary period in which brief (second-long or shorter) flashes of bright blue light are produced, attracting the interest of possible female mates. Then in the next process, males spiral up the water column vertically, producing quicker light bursts that are less bright (Gonzales, 2017). 

(Courtesy of Gretchen Gerrish)

We compete to procreate

The male grabs onto his newfound partner with his antennae if a male is successful and an interested female arrives, and the pair will mate. Competition is intense, sometimes a woman's attention is won by the brightest male, but males can also impress by synchronizing their lighting display with other males or creeping up and taking a mate from another male (Gonzales,2017).

Life cycle

V. annecohenae has a long life cycle of up to about 1 year. It typically develops slowly for 3 months before adulthood. It has several broods of a few offspring numbering between 10-15, and has no free-living larval stage (Gerrish and Morin, 2008).

Five juvenile instars constitute the life cycle of Photeros annecohenae The life cycle of an ostracod in the genus Vargula (now Photeros) are divided by molts (that occur by the ecdysis) as well as an adult instar that is followed by a final molt (Gerrish and Morin, 2008).

The total growth period of ostracod eggs and embryos in females was 26 days, with an average of 7.84 days for the interval between mating and brood deposition, and an average of 18.4 days for the eventual release from the brood chamber. Eggs initially become evident within the female's body during development. While inside the mother's body, eggs increase in size but exhibit no other noticeable morphological changes. Females discharge fertilized embryos as translucent, spheroidal, or ovoidal masses into the marsupium or brood chamber (Gerrish and Morin, 2008). 

(a) One egg of this female has been released into the marsupium and the four remaining eggs are visible in the female ovary. (b) The eggs are extruded into a marsupial brood pouch after 7-8 days. Each egg consists of a large yolk mass at this stage, and the cells inside are barely visible. C) Cell division has created a defined, cloudy cellular mass that fills the egg by day nine in the brood pouch. D) The first apparent structures include the naupliar eye, a red speck, and the intestine as the embryo develops its organs. E) The embryos appear as A-V instars with a large brown eye spot and a fully developed and functioning light organ just before release (Gerrish and Morin, 2008). 

 I have a sperm bank?

Female V. annecohenae can produce several broods without male re-exposure. suggesting that sperm is stored between broods (Gerrish and Morin, 2008).

 I’m a natural

15-17 days after a previous cohort was released new broods can be formed (Gerrish and Morin, 2008).

ECOLOGY

Ostracods are considered to be useful paleoenvironmental indicators because their ecology is often reflected in the shape and structure of their carapaces and also considering their wide distribution in aquatic environments. They can range from warm waters of the tropics to very cold environments such as polar seas and are found from intertidal zones to many thousands of meters depth in the deep sea. They can also thrive in freshwater niches such as rivers, lakes, and even temporary ponds (Brandão & Karanovic, 2020). Generally, ostracods are characterized as omnivorous scavengers because they mainly feed on tiny organisms like algae, diatoms, bacteria, molds, and pieces of organic detritus that are present in the water or on vegetation. Some ostracods are also predatory. Being relatively smaller, they attack their prey in groups so that they can eat organisms larger than them. However, ostracods are also often preyed by small fishes (MESA, 2020).

Freshwater ostracods usually have smooth, thin, weakly calcified simple bean-shaped carapaces and feed on diatoms, bacteria, and detritus. On the other hand, pelagic ostracods may also have thin, smooth shells but they have long powerful swimming appendages or antennules. The formation of rostral incisures at the anterior of the carapace of pelagic ostracods allowed freer movement of these appendages. Furthermore, benthic ostracods are commonly detritivores or filter feeders. Their carapace is usually smooth, small, robust, and sometimes elongated because they tend to burrow into the substrate. Epifaunal ostracods have flattened ventral surfaces sometimes with projecting alar wings, frills, keels, or lateral spines while those found on coarser substrates in higher energy environments tend to have more robust heavily ribbed or reticulated carapaces (Olney, 2002).

RELATIONSHIP TO HUMANS

Generally, ostracods are useful for scientific purposes. According to Boomer et al. (2013), ostracods are being used in studies of earth science and related disciplines such as archaeology, ecology, and genetics. This is because ostracods are widely distributed and are easily preservable. Their assemblage and morphology are some of the important ecological proxies. For instance, in recent research conducted by McCormack et al. (2018) wherein ostracods are being used as a bioindicator. Their research has shown the sensitivity of ostracods’ faunal assemblage (Candona sp.) to changes in water salinity and alkalinity in Lake Van.

Next, valves of ostracods are also being used in paleoenvironmental studies. Valves of ostracods are said to absorb trace elements from host waters (Palacios-Fest et al., 1994). This characteristic makes these microcrustaceans ideal models for reconstructing and analyzing past environments that could range from deep-seas to small lakes. Aside from this, the diversity and variety of reproductive modes of ostracods are also one of the main reasons why they are being used as model organisms for laboratory and research studies (Martens & Hornes, 2009).

Moreover, laboratories have started culturing bioluminescent ostracods. The culture of these organisms is done to determine the biosynthetic pathways of bioluminescent substrates that could lead to the discovery of new tools for biotechnology and biomedicine. For instance, in the study conducted by Goodheart et al. (2019) wherein they cultured California Sea Firefly (V. tsuji) for studies regarding the biosynthetic pathway of cypridinid luciferin and genomic manipulation of an autogenic bioluminescent system.

Serve the Teaaaaa!

The T in Osctracod means Teaaaaa! 5 amazing facts you need to know about ostracods.

1. OLD BUT GOLD

Colymbosathon ecplecticos, a species of ostracod, holds the record of oldest known fossil penis. The historical penis was discovered from a 425 million-year-old rock in England. It was said that a wide variety of animals living in the sea 425 million years ago were killed by an ash fall from a volcanic eruption. However, the ash preserved the animals, including their soft parts. Through technology, the painstaking 3-D reconstructions of a preserved male ostracod revealed amazing details such as the hairs on limbs, gills, and a penis.

2. LIGHT IT UP LIKE A DYNAMITE

Some species of Myodocopida ostracods produce a bright blue light. These are known in Japan as Umi-Hotaru or sea-fireflies. The light is produced by mixing two chemicals together in the presence of oxygen and is for mating displays. Each species flash at different rates to stop any confusion in the dark. Japanese army collected Umi-Hotaru in baited traps during the Second World War. They dry them out and ground them down to a powder. Adding a small amount of water to the powder produces a low-intensity light used by soldiers to read orders or maps without giving their position away to the enemy during battles.   

3. ULTIMATE SURVIVOR

Ostracods can survive being eaten by fish. Experiments with the ostracod Cypridopsis vidua showed that 26% of specimens eaten by small bluegill sunfish came out the other end alive and unharmed. This is possible because ostracods can close their shells very tightly inside their carapace to survive passage through the gut of the fish eventually to be excreted out by the fish.

4. OSTRACODS ARE OMNIPRESENT

Ostracods are found in almost every aquatic habitat, even in some very small and isolated places. They are found deep in the sea, on the shore, on wet leaf litters, springs, groundwaters, puddles, small pools, rice fields, ponds, lakes, and rivers. Some species have a global distribution and are found from the subarctic to the tropics. Their dispersal abilities caused this massive distribution of ostracods. For example, the eggs and adults can hitch a lift on the feet of birds and are displaced because of migration.

5. WE DON’T DIE, JUST DRY

The ostracod eggs can be viable many years after being dried. This is the reason why many freshwater ostracods can be found in temporary water bodies, such as puddles and rice fields. These eggs start to develop and hatch when water is already available in their environment

References

Boomer, I., et al. (2003).  The Use of Ostracods in Palaeoenvironmental Studies, or What can you do with an Ostracod Shell? The Paleontological Society Papers. https://doi.org/10.1017/S1089332600002199

Brandão, S.N.; Karanovic, I. (2020). World Ostracoda Database. Accessed at http://www.marinespecies.org/ostracoda on 2020-11-15. doi:10.14284/364  

Cohen, A. C.; Morin, J. G. (2010). Two New Bioluminescent Ostracode Genera, Enewton And Photeros (Myodocopida: Cypridinidae), with Three New Species from Jamaica. Journal of Crustacean Biology. 30(1): 1-55., https://doi.org/10.1651/08-3075.1

Gonzales, M.R. (2017).  You Light Up My World! Smithsonian. https://ocean.si.edu/ocean-life/invertebrates/you-light-my-world

Goodheart, J., et al. (2019).  Laboratory culture of the California Sea Firefly Vargula tsujii (Ostracoda: Cypridinidae): Developing a model system for the evolution of marine bioluminescence. Research Gate. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/334600678_Laboratory_culture_of_the_California_Sea_Firefly_Vargula_tsujii_Ostracoda_Cypridinidae_Developing_a_model_system_for_the_evolution_of_marine_bioluminescence

Gretchen A. Gerrish, James G. Morin, Life Cycle of a Bioluminescent Marine Ostracode, Vargula Annecohenae (Myodocopida: Cypridinidae), Journal of Crustacean Biology, Volume 28, Issue 4, 1 October 2008, Pages 669–674, https://doi.org/10.1651/07-2934.1

Horne, D. J. & Smith, R. J. (2004). First British record of Potamocypris humilis (Sars, 1924), a freshwater ostracod with a disjunct distribution in northern Europe and southern Africa. Bollettino della Societe Paleontologica Italiana, 43 (1-2), 297-306.  

Laessle, A. M. 1961. A micro-limnological study of Jamaican Bromeliads. Ecology, 42, 499-517. 

Martens, K., and Horne, D.J. (2009). Ostracoda. https://doi.org/10.1016/B978-012370626-3.00184-8

McCormack, J., et al. 2019.  Ostracods as ecological and isotopic indicators of lake water salinity changes: the Lake Van example.  Biogeosciences, 16, 2095–2114, 2019 https://doi.org/10.5194/bg-16-2095-2019

MESA. 2020. Ostracods. Marine Education Society of Australia. http://www.mesa.edu.au/crustaceans/crustaceans03.asp

Moore, J. (2006). An Introduction to the Invertebrates (2nd ed.). Cambridge University Press.

Morin, J. G. and Cohen, A. C. 1991. Bioluminescent displays, courtship, and reproduction in ostracodes. In R. Bauer and Martin, J. (Eds.), Crustacean Sexual Biology:1 16. New York:Columbia University Press. 

Ogoh, K. Ohmiya, Y. (2005). Biogeography of Luminous Marine Ostracod Driven Irreversibly by the Japan Current. Molecular Biology Evolution, 22(7):1543-1545. https://doi.org/10.1093/molbev/msi155]

Olney, M. (2002). Ostracods. Microfossil image recovery and circulation for learning and education. https://www.ucl.ac.uk/GeolSci/micropal/ostracod.html

Palacios-Fest, M.R., et al. (1994).  Use of ostracodes as paleoenvironmental tools in the interpretation of ancient lacustrine records. Revista Espanola de Paleontologia 9(2):145-164. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/291990499_Use_of_ostracodes_as_paleoenvironmental_tools_in_the_interpretation_of_ancient_lacustrine_records

Pechenik, J. A. (2015). Biology of Invertebrates (7th ed.). McGraw-Hill Education.

Sars, G. O. 1895. On some South-African Entomostraca raised from dried mud. Skrifter i Videnskabs-selskabet. I. Mathematisk-Naturvidenskabs Klasse 1895 (8): 1-56.  

Sars, G. O. 1896. On some west Australian Entomostraca raised from dried sand. Arch. Math. Naturv. 18, 1-35.

Seidel, B. 1989. Phoresis of Cyclocypris ovum (Jurine) (Ostracoda, Podocopida, Cyprididae) on Bombina variegata (L.) (Anura, Amphibia) and Triruris vulgaris (L.) (Urodela, Amphibia). Crustaceana 57, 171-176.  

Siveter, D. J., Sutton, M. D., Briggs, D. E. G. & Siveter, D. J. 2003. An ostracod crustacean with soft parts from the Lower Silurian. Science, 302, 1749 - 1751.

UC Museum of Paleontology. (1995).  Introduction to the Ostracoda. https://ucmp.berkeley.edu/arthropoda/crustacea/maxillopoda/ostracoda.html

[royaliity]

W A N T E D   C O N N E C T I O N S

Hi there, fellas! Below the cut, I’ve included some wanted connections & filled connections too. Please, do not be afraid to reach out to me on any of them! I’m seriously open to anything, even if it’s an idea not listed or filled! (updated: 04/01 @ 1:51AM pst)

M A V E R I C K   S T A R K ( Son of Tony Stark & Pepper Potts )

Best Friend - Someone that knows him inside and out. They’ve been friends since childhood and could be complete opposites or absolutely the same. Either way, this one has to come from the MCU! | PETRA MAXIMOFF

Littlest Sister - His weak spot, his bright spot. These two are attached at the hip and he would do anything for her. He has a hard time teasing her but he will definitely randomly tackle her and “beat her up” like older brothers do. |  MORGAN STARK

Dependent - Someone that he has to constantly defend. He wants to make sure they’re safe and sound always by picking them up and moving them out of the fight before he kicks the ass of whoever decided to mess with them. | EVERY MCU CHILD TBF

Ex - He knew it was a bad idea, he did it anyway. Now they’re in each other’s lives forever for better or for worse. They just stick to him and maybe get him on a weird different level. | OPEN

Childhood Crush - He had a crush on them and they just never knew it. Even today he still has feelings for them, but pushing it down until it no longer exists still feels like a decent option. Worthless, but a decent option. | AUDHILD ODINSON

Friendenemy - Someone that really annoys the heck out of him and has extremely contradicting views but they work together so they have to make things work too. Definitely a Steve Rogers / Tony Stark kind of relationship. | OPEN

Labmate - Someone that keeps him from doing something stupid with his experiments. They keep him grounded, but hey, maybe they like to have some fun too. Who cares what they break? The Starks can fix it later, right? | OPEN

Enemy - Anyone against the family or anyone that tries to hurt his friends… Or maybe they hate him for the opportunity he got just for being Stark’s son. | SACHA BELOVA

T H E O D O R E   L I D D E L L ( Son of Alice Liddell )

Best Friends - People that are ultra-close to Theo and understand all the other crazy sides of him. They may not know about the whole “spirit” thing, but they know he’s a nerd trying to make it in the world. | OPEN

Older Sibling - Maybe they never believed in Wonderland or maybe they did. Either way, Theo always secretly looked up to them. They were the glue that held the family together and he just wanted to be as talented as them. | GEMMA LIDDELL

Younger Sibling - Maybe they never believed in Wonderland or maybe they did. Either way, Theo always kept  the beliefs of  fairy tales alive for them, even when they started to grow up. They’re much more mature than he was at that age, but that wasn’t a bad thing either. | OPEN

Ghost Pal - Someone that has stuck to him for one reason or another. He might be sharing his body with them every now and again or maybe he’s just someone they can talk to without manifesting and losing energy. Maybe they’re just helping him work out his powers. | KIERAN GRACEY

Guardian - Let’s face it, his big heart is a big target. He’s gonna need someone to keep him from getting thrown in the nuthouse or getting hurt because he trusts too easily. | OPEN

Crush - He stumbles over his words when he’s around them. He just can’t help himself. If he wasn’t so awkward, maybe he could manage to be with them someday. Either way, he still wants to be around them 24/7. | LYNETTE DESCHAMPS

Wonderland Buddies - Anyone from Wonderland that managed to sneak into the real world. They haven’t seen each other since both of them were kids. | ALL THE BUDS

K Y R A   K E N O B I ( Adopted Daughter of Obi-Wan Kenobi )

Best Friends - She’s always wanted the experience of getting dolled up and telling secrets like a normal girl. | OPEN

Partner in Crime - Someone that she can get in extreme amounts of trouble with. Whether it be pulling pranks or breaking some laws, it doesn’t matter, they’re game for it. | TOBY FITZHERBERT

Mentor - Someone to help her understand the force and how to be better with it. She’s chaotic, so whether it’s good or bad, she needs some help to get better. | OPEN

Good Influence - May go along with sibling or mentor or even friend, but someone who is constantly telling her she can be better and follow Obi-Wan’s good lessons. They help to chill out her firey emotions sometimes. | ARIN TICO

Bad Influence - Tells her to go for her emotions and that what she’s feeling isn’t bad if she channels it all into the dark side instead. She believes them, she just knows it isn’t a good idea... | BEN SOLO

Sibling Figure - Doesn’t matter if it’s brother or sister, anyone that she could consider an older or younger sibling would be amazing. She’s always wanted a family like that and envies it in many ways. | BRYN DAMERON

Friends w/ Benefits - She’s definitely open to a relationship with benefits! It’s kinda a thing for her to be with someone just for fun and enjoyment. She just likes to feel close to someone. | OPEN

Crush - Someone who develops a crush on her or maybe she finds she likes this person a lot more than she should. Maybe she’s afraid she’s gonna lose them too. Maybe they’re someone that makes her feel like she can make her Father proud. | DARYAN CRESSE

Enemies - Let’s face it, Obi-Wan had many enemies on the Sith side that may not like that Kyra exists and may want to take her out. | OPEN

B E A T R I C E   F I T Z H E R B E R T ( Daughter of Rapunzel & Eugene Fitzherbert )

Best Friend - Closest to her and knows everything she tries to hide. They can read her like a book and while they probably won’t call her out on it, they do try to keep her safe. | OPEN

Siblings (2) - She feels incredibly close with both of her siblings and is always putting their welfare above her own if she can. They make her life less lonely and she trusts them completely. | TOBY FITZHERBERT & OPEN

Guard or Stable Friend - Perhaps a child of Maximus or Pascal maybe? Someone who could have tried to teach her to protect herself and others and relied on her ability when they met as children. | OPEN

Ex-Friend or Ex - Someone that she thought loved her but she figured they didn’t after everything that happened. They were the one to make her wary of friendships at all. | OPEN

Corona / Arendelle Friends - More friends from Corona for her to adore or possibly become acquainted with. I would also like to see possible Arendelle connections! | OLA BJORGMAN

Controller - Takes advantage of her kindness and uses it to their advantage simply because she’s naive and easy to control once she trusts someone. | FELIX WESTERGAARD

Unique Friend - Someone to teach her that not all people are out there to be good and kind. Maybe they’re taking pity on her. Maybe she slightly annoys them. It’s flexible. | OPEN

H E N R Y   W A L T O N   J O N E S,  III ( Son of Indiana Jones & Marion Ravenwood )

Companion - Someone to follow him on every adventure, big or small. He would consider them one of the only people that don’t get offended by him and actually understands his thought process perhaps. | OPEN

His Little Sister - He took her on too many mini adventures when they were both kids. She’s one of the only people that knows when he’s faking it. Maybe a little more street smart where he can be a little book smart too. | OPEN

Ex - The initial person that broke his heart. Could have been when they were young or maybe things got too serious and he had to run away like dear dad? Either way, he tries to avoid them but he’s unable to. | OPEN

Enemy - Many people could fill this position. Especially if they’re greedy and disrespectful of culture or hurt others. | OPEN

Flirtacionship - He’s a pretty face with a little charm and they’re willing to put up with his bluntness and obsessive talk of history. | Adrien Solo

Apprentice - Someone he’s showing the ropes to! He doesn’t ever underestimate them, but definitely doesn’t want them getting hurt and he’ll do everything he can to make sure that doesn’t happen. | OPEN

M I K A S A   K O P O L I ( Daughter of Kiki & Tombo )

Coven - I would love it if the witches got together and created a coven of super diverse but interesting talents! The more power they have the better. Did someone say powerpuff girls?? | EDEN DALLOWAY-PIPER & OPEN

Customer - I would love it if she had a frequent customer that always required a certain potion or elixir… Or maybe they’re just addicted. Either way it works! | OPEN

Bad Influence - They’re so nice and pleasant to her that they convince her to use her magic for bad instead of good. Yikes, now they’re making drug-like concoctions or something. | KAL BARR

Best Friend - They realize her potential and push her to keep doing good and trying! They may go on adventures with her on the broom too! | OPEN

Big Brother - Someone that she looks up to more than anyone. She’s always pushing herself to be at their level. I would imagine they’re pretty close and work together well. | OPEN

Mentor - Maybe someone that wants to coach her more and make her better at being a witch! She could definitely use one at times. | OPEN

Apprentice - Someone she happens to be teaching about the magic world that she sees a spark in... She’s not a perfect teacher but they’re just starting out anyway! No biggie. | OPEN 

Attraction - She trips all over herself when this person comes near but she knows she shouldn’t ever fall for someone again. She would probably write them secret letters with flowers too. | OPEN

C H A R L E S   H A T C H A W A Y ( Son of Constance Hatchaway & Frank Banks )

Mortal Friends - People he can finally be friends with and helps him understand the mortal world just a little bit better. He may have been wary to trust them in the beginning but now he enjoys being around them. | AIDEN FUSSELBOTTOM

Macabre Delights - This person enjoys the darkness as he much as he does and delights in just talking poetry and sitting there in the comfort of the dark with him. They may talk a lot about their lives. | OPEN

Bright Side - This person brings out the light in Charlie. They make him feel happy like no one else had before. Maybe they make his life (or afterlife) a lot better than it ever was. | OPEN

Intuned with Ghosts - A mortal who’s sensitive to ghosts that he tells information to. He feels comfortable around them and will reveal information to them about the afterlife. | OPEN

Ghost Pals - Anyone from the mansion that managed to get him to talk and be social! | TAKEN

C L E M E N T I N E   N O R T O N ( Daughter of the Blue Fairy )

Her First Charge - Her felt as though he was falling in love with them and no matter how hard she fought to save them, she lost them. Most likely a ghost or vamp or something?? We can figure it out. | OPEN

Her Rival - An evil entity who Clem is strangely fascinated with and whom she would never say so. She likes to engage in banter with them and will fight them on occasion. Especially if they decide to come after her charges. | ALEKSIS CHERNABOG

Her Best Friend - Another fairy whom Clem admires greatly and finds to be much too good to ever be her best friend. They have history together and it seems as though they are always there to protect her at the most convenient of moments. | OPEN

Her Current Charge - Someone that is in need of a guardian angel and is alright with them having a very interesting empathetic connection. | OPEN

Her Older Sibling - Someone she trusts more than anyone and leans on more than they probably like. She learned a lot from them and sees them as a kind of equal and friend. | OPEN

His Younger Sibling - They’re little and therefore, they need protection too. They treat them how their older sibling treated her and is not embarrassed to make sure they’re okay. | OPEN

O L I V I A   F L A V E R S H A M ( Daughter of Hiram Flaversham )

Her Guardian - She’s bound to get into some kind of trouble and she really needs someone to stop her before she gets hurt. | OPEN

Her Mentor - They have a difficult relationship but she would do anything for him. Sometimes she feels like he’s the only one who knows exactly what’s going on with her and how much she actually needs people. | JOHN MOUSE

Her Best Friend - Call them the Dawson to her Basil. She needs a good partner that can keep her grounded and eating actual food. | OPEN

Her Rival - Someone that matches her wits and is out to hurt the people she loves the most. | OPEN

Her Confidant - Someone that understands how her mind works and listens to her babble on because they know they can help her and she can help them. | OPEN

Her Dependent - This person just needs someone’s protection like she did when she was little. She sees a lot of herself in them and wants to keep them safe. | OPEN

Her FWB or Ex - This is someone she probably trusted quite a bit and then they let her down in some way. She’s still drawn to them completely but she tries to stop herself from being with them to no avail. | OPEN

Her Mystery - Probably someone that she wants to expose as a fraud but can’t and while it frustrates her, she’s just too intrigued to give up. | OPEN

[im-the-king-of-the-ocean]

Beneath a Blue Sun

Entry for @infogremlinmelise / @melsandbox ’s Rarepair Contest

Prompts Used: Nature - Misty Morning, Magic - Second Chance at Life, Dark - Shadow, Soft - Whelps

(I didn’t see any limits on how many prompts we can use in the main rules post and I do enjoy mixing and matching).

Ships: Strickrot, Past Strickando

Headcanons I came up with for this fic:

>whelps are considered the trollish equivalent of genderless.  A part of their puberty is choosing a gender and molding their bodies to fit how they want to present as.  None of the whelps in this are old enough for that yet, so they’re referred to with they/them pronouns.

>different colored stars affect trolls differently.  This is inspired by the concept that Supergirl/Superman get their powers from Earth’s yellow sun, but lose them under the light of a red sun.  So, under a yellow sun, trolls are turned to stone, but, under a blue star, they are not.  yes I used a blue star in this because I thought the visual/aesthetic was cool idc if you judge me for that.

Dawn arises to a symphony put on by an eclectic gathering of songbirds in the copse of not-quite trees some distance away from the downed spaceship.  Mist drifts lazily around its metal remains, and casually embraces them.  Uncounted years have passed since the shiny, metal beast came to a rest in the (formerly) uninhabited glen.  The world has adjusted to its presence.

A being not of this planet emerges from a hole in the ship’s hull (only those who know how to look are able to recognize the door for what it is).  He holds a hand up to shield his eyes from the morning light.  It remains strange to him how this star, this blue sun, doesn’t affect him like the golden daylight on his home world does.  He examines his fingers, rubs them against each other, but there’s no sign they’re about to be petrified stone.

He rotates both his hands in front of himself, watching as his green skin dims or illuminates, depending on which surface area happens to be facing the sky.

He is a being born in the shadows, yet here he is, welcomed by the light.

“Foolish of me to think you left your vanity on Earth, Stricklander,” a voice purrs behind him.

Strickler frowns.  He turns to face the one shadowed in the shelter of their ship.  “Still fearful of the light, Angor?  You’ve been here long enough.  I should think you’d have learned that this sun won’t harm you by now.”

Angor Rot steps out into the waking day.  His one eye narrows.  “Don’t presume you know what I’m like.”

“I know you better than you think.”  Strickler chuckles.  “I—”

A small, purple blur zooms by Strickler, causing a stir in the air that sweeps his hair.  A second one, bright orange, swiftly follows.  Then a third, green with blue streaks, comes and goes.

Strickler mutters a curse and spreads his wings.  He doesn’t look again at Angor Rot, for he knows Angor is smirking at him.

“You better catch them, Stricklander, or they’ll fly away to the mountains again.”

With a huff, Strickler takes off.

Angor laughs as he watches Strickler take to the sky.  He’ll certainly never admit it, but watching the changeling’s wings beat against the air pleases him.  Strickler’s form, too.  The smoothness of his chest; the elegance of his carved tattoos.  He’s not a displeasing troll to look at.  Then again, Angor’s tastes have always been unusual.

Perhaps, if the past was written differently, there’d be something more between them.  But it is what it is.

Angor observes Strickler a moment longer, and then strides over to his garden.  They don’t eat the strange plants he tends or have any real necessity for them, but he enjoys the act of digging his fingers into the dirt.  He rips up the roots of the ones he’s deemed weeds and casts them aside.  The soil is rich and damp with last night’s rainfall.  Angor inhales deeply.

He will never it admit out loud, but he enjoys this place life has brought him to too.

Up in the air, Strickler grunts as he increases speed.  Despite his larger wingspan working in his favor, he’s slow to catch up with the troll whelps.  The ceaseless energy that comes with youth, he muses.  He’s never sought to curb the whelps’ enthusiasm, but there are occasions, like this one, where he quietly wished they had just a little bit less of it.

Still, they’re alive and, really, that’s all that matters.

...

“I’ve collected the birthstones abandoned in Trollmarket.”  Strickler walks onto the bridge.  He basks in the displays of reverence Morando’s subordinates show him.  There is something utterly intoxicating about being shown proper respect for once.  “There were only three, but we expected that the numbers wouldn’t be high.”  Strickler places the stones on a hovering surface next to his general.

“Very good,” Morando praises his consort.  The corners of his lips twitch up.  He places a firm, but affectionate, hand on Strickler’s shoulder.  “Now, destroy them.”

“What?!”

“Perhaps you did not hear me correctly.”  Morando’s grip tightens uncomfortably on Strickler.  “I said destroy them.  We will build a new empire here on Urrrth.  One that has no place for such lesser beings.”

“But they haven’t even emerged yet.”  Strickler takes on a pacifying tone.  “They can be taught to—”

“Enough!  You may be a fine specimen for your kind, but you are an exception.  My empire will not be marred by the presence of such creatures.  I will not give the order again.  Destroy them, Strickler.”

Strickler disobeys.  The praise Morando gives him and the soft caresses may fill a gaping hole where his heart should be, but he is not the ruthless soldier he was created long ago to be.

He takes the three birthstones and hides them away.  Then, while Morando is distracted by his invasion of Earth, Strickler sneaks them down to the hangar.

Thwack!

The knife wedges itself in the wall a hair ahead of Strickler’s nose.  He freezes.  His eyes dart around until he finds the source of the attack.

“Where do you think you’re going, Stricklander?”  The rumble, familiar and dangerous, sneaks into his ears.

He growls his response, “None of your concern.”

Angor Rot saunters out of the shadows that concealed him.  “Off to destroy birthstones?  Innocent whelps yet to be born?  Even I never stooped so low.”

Strickler glances around.  They’re alone in the hangar.  The strikers, all but for the one he sabotaged so he’d have it for his escape, have been deployed and are likely reigning destruction down on Earth.  “I hardly expect you to believe this, but no.”  Without witnesses, it’s safe enough for him to say.  “They deserve the chance to live.  I’m going to give it to them.”

“You would betray your general?”  The way Angor speaks the title makes it sound like poison.  “After you’ve stood with him?  I have been watching, Stricklander.  I have seen the nightmares you condoned at his side.”

“You of all trolls should know, sometimes things change.”  Strickler marches toward the striker.  “Either attempt to cut me down or get out of my way.  Time is short.”

Angor pulls his knife out from the wall.  He follows Strickler.  “I won’t give you the sweet release of death you so desire.”  He jumps into the ship before Strickler can.  “Nor will I let you slip away so easily.”

There’s no time left for arguing.  They leave Earth together.

...

The first whelp hatched from their stone, the purple one, Oria, dives into a cloud bank as Strickler grabs for their foot.  Oria emerges giggling.  Eyes full of mischief, they spread their wings and swoop down around Strickler.  The changeling knows they’re going for a sneak attack and lets them.

Oria is the most like Strickler of the three.  He believes somewhere in the purple whelp’s ancestry is a link to his own original tribe, a tribe that fell out of existence centuries ago, but remains in small traits, such as ringed horns and bat-like wings, that pop up every now and then every generation.

Oria makes their move.  They slam into Strickler’s back, thrusting the both of them into a thick, chilly cloud.  As they lose momentum, Strickler wraps his arms around Oria.  First one caught.  Two to go.  He maneuvers Oria, who huffs grumpily, under one arm, so he can have the other free.

The bright orange whelp, Cerebi, laughs at their sibling’s ill-fortune at being the first caught.  They lean back as they do, end up going to far, and slip upside down, which only makes them laugh harder.

Cerebi is a rare, natural-born polymorph.  Before they emerged, Strickler hardly believed such a thing existed.  Then, Cerebi shifted for the first time.

There are times when Strickler thinks he sees hints of Otto Scaarbach in the whelp, but he brushes the notion aside.  Firstly, because Otto never was the childrearing type.  Secondly, simply because he’d only known one other polymorph before Cerebi, it doesn’t mean the two necessarily share a connection.

Strickler makes a grab for Cerebi, easily captures the distracted whelp, and maneuvers them under the arm not keeping hold of Oria.

The youngest whelp, the green one with blue streaks, Dilos, is the only one without natural wings.  Theirs is the one thing Strickler and Angor Rot successfully managed to make together.  They’d found old blueprints in the striker’s computer system for what looked like a set of holographic projection-type wings and got to work.  

Not that either Strickler or Angor Rot will ever admit to it, but they’d do anything to prevent their shared children from being sad.  And Dilos, the most sensitive of the three, cried when they realized their siblings could do something they could not.  Thus, Strickler and Angor put aside their various arguments and worked together until they managed to make Dilos a functioning flight apparatus.

Once he sees his siblings are caught, Dilos willingly goes to hover by Strickler.  He doesn’t like to be left out.

When they return to the ship, they find Angor waiting.  As each of the whelps place their feet on the ground, he looks them over.

“I would never let any harm come to them,” Strickler reminds him.

“They’re mischievous.”  Angor turns away from Cerebi to gaze at Strickler.  “And youthful.  Such a combination can be dangerous.”

Upon hearing the word ‘dangerous’ the three whelps each break out in a wide grin.  As a unified force, they tackle Angor Rot to the ground.

“Play with us!”  They shout in his face.

So, as the morning mists dissipate and the day warms, Angor Rot engages in play fighting with Oria, Cerebi, and Dilos.  When the whelps finally exhaust themselves, they collapse down on him.  Their eyelids flutter close and they drift to sleep.

Strickler settles next to Angor.  Not quite close enough to be too familiar, but closer than he used to get.  He lifts a wing to shield Angor and the whelps from the light of the sun as they rest.

[skepticalcatfrog]

Shattered Crown Chapter 4

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter Masterpost

Summary: After disaster strikes in Prince Roman's kingdom, he must go on a quest in order to take back the crown that is rightfully his. He will travel with three companions on an epic adventure, gaining many friends and enemies along the way. Those three companions are an intelligent inventor With a mysterious past, a cheerful wizard With a dark secret, and.. the assassin who was sent to kill him two years prior.

Pairings: (Eventual) Prinxiety and Logicality

Word count: 2,770

Author's Notes: This chapter is the last one that I have totally done, so the next couple chapters will probably be posted a bit slower.

“No… That's not possible… I mean, he talked about it, but I never thought he actually would…” Virgil shook his head, burying his face in his hands.

“Well, he also had people throw me out a window, so you might have to change your thinking a bit.” Roman crossed his arms.

“Oh my gods… he's worse than I thought.” Virgil lifted his head to look Roman in the eyes. “I'm so sorry for what he put you through. And that's really hard for me to say, because I thought that I'd defend him, no matter what. But he's really crossed a line.”

“Well… I'm glad you agree.” Roman looked slightly surprised. “Does this mean we could maybe not hate each other anymore?”

“We'll see. I still don't even know you that well.” Virgil pointed out.

“Okay then. Make sure to get back to me when you have a definitive answer.” Roman picked up the book he'd put down. “I'll be looking forward to it.”

~~~

A couple hours later, after the sun rose, Patton woke up as well. Lavender had gotten into the room at some point while he was sleeping, and was curled up on the side of his head, purring loudly right into his ear. He held in a sneeze, so that he didn't wake up the small cat. Or Logan, who was still asleep on the floor.

Patton carefully lifted Lavender off of his head and sat up, letting her sit on the chair next to him. He turned around to look at his friend, wondering if he'd ended up fixing his hand after all.

A couple minutes later, Logan woke up as well. Patton had picked up one of his journals from the desk, and was reading notes that Logan had taken about trips he'd gone on.

"Oh, hello Patton." Logan stood up and went to sit next to him, making sure to move Lavender before he sat down. She immediately hopped back up and curled up on Logan's lap. "What are you still doing in here? I'd think that Roman and Virgil would be awake by now."

"I was waiting for you." Patton explained.

"Why?" Logan began absentmindedly petting the peach-colored kitten.

"I don't know, I just thought that I should." Patton shrugged. "I was reading your notes while I was waiting, I hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind, but I am a bit surprised. No one's ever found them interesting before."

"Really?" Patton looked up from the book. "I think they're awesome. When do you have time to get to all these places?"

"Well I… don't have very much family." Logan answered. "I'd prefer to leave it at that, if that's alright."

"Of course." Patton nodded. "I get it, don't really have the best family history either. But… if you ever did want to talk about it, I'm always available. I know you're a good person."

"How are you so sure?" Logan narrowed his eyes skeptically. "We've just met."

"I can just tell." Patton smiled.

Logan didn't want to admit it, but being called a good person made him happy. He hadn't heard those words associated with his name in a while.

He was so caught up in his thinking that he didn't realize Patton was still talking. He shook his head to clear it of thoughts.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if you got your arm to work again." Patton repeated.

"Yes, I did." Logan moved his fingers to demonstrate. "I realize that you were already asleep by then."

"How did you make it?" Patton asked, staring at the arm curiously.

"I used materials that I found, along with things I bought with whatever money I had." Logan pointed out a spring that looked slightly older than the others. "For example, this I found on a river bank. It took forever to remove the rust from it."

Patton nodded to show he understood, looking genuinely fascinated by what Logan had to say. That was also new to him.

"Wow… I can do magic, but I'm not smart enough to do something like that." Patton said sheepishly.

"I'm sure you're very intelligent." Logan assured him. "Doing magic requires a strong brain, and great focus. Botany, as well. The fact that you have managed to single handedly maintain an entire greenhouse full of healthy plants while also studying magic is very impressive."

Patton blushed faintly. "Thanks, Logan."

"You are very welcome, Patton." He picked up Lavender and put her back on the floor. "So, should we see how Roman and Virgil are doing?"

"Yeah, probably." Patton agreed. "If I'm being honest, I don't know how long we can leave them alone out there before they start arguing."

Logan nodded and they both went out to the living room, where they were surprised to find Virgil and Roman sitting silently in the same room, not bothered at all by the other's presence.

"Oh, hey guys." At the sound of Virgil's voice, Lavender immediately darted over to him and curled up on his chest, purring loudly. He was clearly her favorite already, even though she'd just met him yesterday.

"So, how did the work go?" Roman asked, putting the book he'd been reading on the table next to him.

"It was very successful." Logan answered.

"How long have you guys been up?" Patton sat on the couch next to Virgil.

"For a couple hours." Virgil moved over a bit to make room for him.

"What were you doing that whole time?" Logan sat in the chair in the other corner of the room.

Virgil and Roman quickly filled the other two in on what had happened.

"Oh my gods…" Patton's eyes widened.

"What are we supposed to do?" Logan furrowed his brow.

"There's nothing we can do at this point." Patton grimaced, recovering from his momentary shock. "I've… I've heard stories about Ethan. He has unlimited power, and once he decides that he wants something, he gets it. I heard that he used to have… a brother. He shunned him and ended up chasing him away from their kingdom, just because they didn't agree. It happened… a little less than one year ago. I think."

"How do you know so much about Ethan?" Virgil asked. "I didn't even know he had a brother, and I lived with him for about seven or eight years."

"People talk about him a lot. I listen, and remember." Patton brushed it off as if it was nothing.

"Back to the task at hand." Logan reminded them. "Is there really no way to fight him?"

"There has to be something we can do." Roman gripped the arm of the chair. "I need to get my kingdom back."

"Well… I think there might be one thing." Patton looked deep in thought. He stood up and walked over to the bookshelf. He scanned it for a moment before pulling on a book, which seemed to be some sort of lever. The bookshelf moved aside to reveal another bookshelf in the wall behind it, with only a few books on it. Patton grabbed a dusty book from the shelf, that looked like it hadn't been moved in a while. He handed the book to Roman and sat back on the couch. "I made that notebook a while ago. It's got information on all the most powerful and dangerous spells, as well as how to reverse them."

"Really?" Roman opened the book to see a map of all the area surrounding Patton's house, and began flipping through the pages. "Virgil, if you don't mind, could you please help me find the spell? You're the only one who's witnessed it first-hand."

"I guess that would be the best way to find it…" Virgil sighed and held out his hand. "Give me the book."

Roman handed it over and Virgil began reading the pages. After a couple minutes, he pointed to a page and showed it to Roman. "This is it."

Roman took the notebook and began reading.

'Name of spell: Unknown.

Description of use: The user must save power by not using any other spells over a varying amount of time (time varies based on power stored to begin with). The user creates a mass of pure energy, and must make contact with it in order to use the spell. It can be either direct or indirect, but results will change. The color of the spell also changes, depending on the color of the user's soul.

Power Needed: 100%

Mortality Rate (Direct Contact): 90%

Mortality Rate (Indirect Contact): 50%

Effects: Powers of persuasion, heightened magical ability, mind control capabilities, shape shifting, mind reading, among many others.

Spell Reversal: There isn't a reversal in the sense that the spell can be completely undone, so to speak, but there are a few objects that can be used to dull or cancel out the power of the spell/the user.

Option 1: The shadow blades. They are under very high security, but if you can get to them, they will be very useful. They functions as real daggers, as well as weakening magic of any kind. They are kept in the kingdom of Shadowbrook, which was named after the blades.

Option 2: 'Verum'. (Translation: 'Truth' in Latin) Verum can be used to reveal things such as hidden passages, or for these purposes, shapeshifters. This relic is located in the kingdom of Aurum (Translation: 'Gold' in Latin).

Option 3: The ruby crown. It prevents mind control very well. Although, this one is a more difficult one to find, since no one knows exactly where it is, but it is very recognizable.

Option 4: The sapphire necklace. This necklace protects the brain from mind reading, so you can prevent an opponent from knowing your thoughts. It is kept somewhere in the Caeruleum (Translation: 'Blue' in Latin) kingdom.'

"So… which relic are we going to go after?" Roman closed the book, but held the page with his finger.

"All of them." Virgil shrugged. "Might as well. I mean, what's the use of just one if he has all of the powers they fight against?"

"That would take a very long time, but I suppose that would be the most logical solution…" Logan narrowed his eyes in thought.

"Okay then, where do we go first?" Patton asked.

Roman looked back at the map in the front of the journal, seeing which place was the closest. He held up the book for the others to see and pointed out each place as he spoke.

"So, it looks like Shadowbrook is the closest, it'll probably only take a day walking to get there, then Caeruleum, then Aurum, but it's still a long way from Caeruleum to Aurum."

"So it's settled. We go to Shadowbrook first." Virgil nodded. "We should probably leave now, since it's so early. We'll want as much daylight as possible."

Patton glanced at Roman, who was wearing all white. "You probably wouldn't want to go to Shadowbrook wearing that..."

"Why? What's wrong with it?" Roman looked at his own clothes.

"A town like Shadowbrook is shrouded in darkness, as the name implies. If you go there wearing that, you'll stand out quite a bit." Logan explained.

"He's right. And standing out is probably not the best idea for you, since everyone thinks you're dead." Patton pointed out. "If word gets out that you're alive, Ethan could send people to look for you."

"So… what should I do?" Roman asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"I could probably find a cloak for you to use to hide your face. And…" Patton snapped his fingers and Roman's clothes turned black, fading into red near the wrists. "I can do magic, too."

"Cool." Roman admired the slight change in wardrobe. "But what about you, Patton? Your clothes aren't exactly dark, either."

Patton snapped his fingers again, and his normally pastel colored jacket and wizard's hat became different shades of black and gray, with silver details.

"Okay, well that's kind of all we have to do, right?" Virgil asked.

"Yes, I believe so." Logan nodded. "We don't have anything to pack, so I believe that is all."

"Hang on, before we go, Roman could you come with me for a second?" Patton stood up and beckoned Roman to follow him to the greenhouse.

They stepped into the greenhouse and Roman immediately knew why they were there. Roman's armor stood in the corner, good as new.

He immediately rushed over to it and put it on, smiling like he was five years old again.

"Thank you so much, Patton." He turned back to the shorter boy. "This really means a lot to me."

"You're welcome!" Patton smiled brightly.

A couple minutes later, all four of the boys were standing outside Patton's house. It was in the middle of a big open field, which was surrounded by the mountains. Patton had put a protective spell in the house that would keep intruders out, and help take care of Lavender. And with that, plus checking to make sure they had everything they needed a couple of times, they were on their way.

Luckily, they made it out of the mountain range unharmed. Roman assumed that it was because the dragons were bored of them.

"So, how exactly do we get to Shadowbrook?" Roman asked.

"Well, I have the map from my journal." Patton handed him the notebook.

"Why does Shadowbrook have a question mark next to it?" Roman pointed it out, showing Patton the page.

"Well… the entrance to Shadowbrook is hidden. Under some sort of magical protection. It took me a while to figure something out, but I'm pretty sure that's where it is." He explained.

They walked on a clear path for a while before reaching a dark, ominous forest. The trees reached up so high that they seemed to pierce the clouds, which hung like smoke in the sky. The shadows that came from the trees looked like hands with long sharp fingers.

"Well this place isn't unsettling at all." Virgil said sarcastically, raising his eyebrow.

"This is it." Patton said. "I think this is how we'll get into the kingdom."

"There doesn't appear to be a secret entrance." Logan stepped forward to touch a tree.

"How do we even know that this is the right place?" Roman tried to look into the dark forest, but it was nearly pitch black past the first couple layers of trees.

"We don't, but this can't be just a forest. Not if it looks like this." Patton said determinedly.

"I don't know. It just seems like a regular creepy forest." Virgil observed.

"Well we have to keep moving, secret entrance or not." Roman was the first to walk into the darkness. The closer he got to the forest, the colder the air got.

"Roman, you can't just-" Virgil's voice was cut off as soon as the prince stepped past the first tree.

The whole world fell into darkness, and he felt the temperature drop. It felt like he was suspended in midair. For a moment, he was reminded of his fall from the window, but the feeling soon faded.

He fell onto cold grass, and when he looked it was completely gray and covered in frost. Everything seemed drained of color, even his own skin. Snow was falling all around him, and a thin layer covered the ground. He stood up and brushed the snow and dirt off of himself. In front of him was a large black gate, seemingly made of obsidian or something similar. Behind the gate stood a tall, imposing castle, made of the same material as the gate. It looked like a shadow, except for stained glass windows being the only color. The castle was surrounded by houses. This was a kingdom, he knew it. If anyone could spot a kingdom, it was him.

A couple seconds later, the other three stumbled through what seemed to be a portal. Virgil immediately stomped over to Roman, scowling.

"What were you thinking?" Virgil shivered slightly, clearly not having anticipated the cold, since his arms were exposed. "We don't know what could've been in that forest! It might not have been the secret entrance! You could've been hurt, or worse!"

"Trust me, I wasn't thinking at all." Roman responded. He gestured to the gate. "But look! We're somewhere, right?"

"Yeah, we are." Patton's eyes widened. He approached the gate and places his hand on one of the bars. He muttered something under his breath and his hand glowed light blue. With a loud creak, the gate swung open. He turned back to the rest of the group. "I was right. This is the entrance. Logan, Roman, Virgil, welcome to Shadowbrook."

[yeetdam]

Could you ship your mutuals with silverboys/treasure 13? I’m curious 🙀

smh i accidentally closed the tab before i could save it fml but anyway: instead of studying maths and after killing my body with a 45 min workout, i am here to answer this ask that was long overdue thank you anon for being so curious uwu!! also i apologize i might’ve got carried away skjdl and this is not proofread in any shape or form

@yoonbins x yoonbin is the couple that tries to keep it low but everyone knows that they’re a thing imo 💖 mini god kara i’m not trying to call you out but yoonbin would gladly accept that s***** from you anytime úwù skinship in public isn’t really their thing, but if bin is feeling bold, he’d secretly hold her hand under the desk klasjdklajs kara isn’t one to show her emotions a lot but it’s fine bc yoonbin is an attentive guy and just knows how smitten he is for her!!! not really the most romantic couple out there, but when it comes to banter? OOF nobody can beat them what a pure relationship (also, expect long cuddle sessions when it’s just the two of them teehee)

@byounggonsgf x byounggon is the power couple everyone on ygtb tumblr and their MUMS know of and approve of: first of all, visual wise?? GOD TIER. SUPERIOR. YOU WISH. we all know how much of a visual kweenie angel zeen is, and we all know how hot gon is (pls the entire fandom has a crush on him) and the two combined?? YOUR FAVS COULD NEVER (unless your favs are zeen and gon uwu) also, just one glance at zeen’s tags just show how much love she harbors for him and i imagine her to be the type to write stuff abt him in a seperate notebook and when gon finds out, he’ll go all out and arrange some romantic candlelight dinner or shit 💖 in other words, they’re the disgustingly sweet couple you’d see in romance anime uwu

@ggoncafe x byounggon is also a ship i advocate !!! he’d do anything to make ess smile and laugh; it’s one of his fav sights after all - especially that thing that ess does where she scrunches her nose whenever she laughs??? he is SOLD. WHIPPED. IN AWE. i feel like gon can be quite the romantic in his way and would write so many songs abt ess lskjdlkj aside of that, ess strikes me as the type to annoy the shit out of him just for fun LMAO - it’s nothing bad, imagine this: she’d text him in capslock and keyboard smashes just to garner his attention and then, he’d face time her and try to be fed up but in reality? he’s glad she did that? bc that gives him the perfect excuse to see her lkjsdj 

say what you want; okay cool you think the earth is flat fine then but not thinking that @mashilove x byounggon is a cute ship? sis you’re abt to cATcH ThESe HaNDs - uyen radiates something akin to big mom energy: maybe it’s partly bc she’s just as old as gon but her tags to everyone just SCREAM soft protective nature 💖 also i feel like uyen, as great as she is, sometimes deals with huge insecurity issues and gon would try his best to lift up her spirits and convince her that she is a beautiful child of the angels the world doesn’t even deserve!!! we are talking abt gon dedicating 28398309 songs to her and cuddle attacks and soft shit oof

looking back i realize byounggon also has a mf power harem and to finish it off, i also think that @speckofglitter x byounggon is the couple you should be scared of. why scared? bc they’re gonna make you set your standards so impossibly high AND THATS THE TEA 💖 gon picking up tiyi after her lectures at university? every time when he can afford to? which is pretty much every second day? and if he has much free time before he’d make sure to buy some food for tiyi? it doesn’t help that he’s a soundcloud rapper of course everyone’s gonna have high standards! it doesn’t stop there tho; just imagine them trying some couple dances like ellen and Brian hnnngh 

@junkyeu x junkyu is ! so ! pure !!!! junkyu would be so so smitten and so so proud of Linh and he’d take any opportunity to boast abt her. she’s so beautiful? he’d say that to every second stranger they pass by. she’s a multilingual queen? he’d tweet it out several times a day, post it on his snapchat, probably write it on a wall “LINH IS A MULTILINGUAL LEGEND YOUR S/O COULD NEVER 💖“ and so on. he is so damn supportive up to the point where it might be a little excessive to her but she still loves him dearly :’) the harshest thing she might do is prolly insult him lightly in any language he doesn’t understand LMAOOO

1/3 of the seunghun harem ship i support is @kimseunghoney x seunghun ! yet another couple that would flaunt that they’re together but guess what?? everyone is LIVING for it 💖 christina is such a soft fluffball who’s trying her best to get through her exams and seunghun being the supportive (yet needy) boyfriend he is, would partly distract her partly help her?? he’d be the type to randomly come over to her place with the reason of wanting to help her study bc ! good ! grades ! is ! what ! she ! wants ! but then five minutes later, he’d try to get her to take a break and then woo her to a nap bc she’s been working so hard uwu (also, the perfect timing for him to fill up his camera roll full of pics of christina saljdlk)

2/3 of the seunghun harem is @seunghunies x seunghun 💖 now with those two combined,,,, get ready for the skinship and disgustingly domestic and tooth rotten fluff between them uGh [edit: the latter got deleted WHY TUMBLR WHY SMH so starting here is the cont.] seunghun is the type to show off that vale is his up to the point where he might shove it up everyone and their mum's faces jskdk but it's full of love!!! Snapchat? Instagram? Everywhere — he's gonna say how much he loves vale during an ig live or in his story dedicated to vale and vale ONLY 💞🤧 also!!! Restaurant dates!!!! So many!!!! They'd go taste testing in the entire city !!!! And he'd take so many pics of her and the best thing abt the cute shit? Vale plays along!! (At least most of the time teehee) say he'd want her to pose for the camera? She'd gladly do it- unless she's feeling a little sneaky then she'd do anything to mess up the snapshot kajdjdjkdk we love banter 😜💓

3/3 of the harem is @seunghunn x seunghun uwu THE. SOFTEST. COUPLE. IN THE UNIVERSE. mashikyu doesn’t compare anyway, we’ve already established how much of a passionate lover hun is right?? and i peg seunghun the type to crave his s/o’s attention at any time possible so if you ever lay his eyes off him, he’d do anything to win your attention back! perhaps one might say that maddi cherishes her sleep more than our #1 furry king and if she’s particularly stressed, she’s heading straight to her bed and to the one-hour nap she desperately needs. depending on how hun is feeling, he might either a) play the big spoon and nap with her sdjlkjsa or b) be the whiny bitch he is and try to wake her up (ofc only if he’s 100% sure that she wouldnt mind as much as usual) 💖 in case he guessed wrong and woke her up while she’s pissed, he’d make up with some good homecooked food UGH

@moonxlika x hyunsuk is the badass couple who always hype one another up you don’t even KNOW. be it a competition or a game, you can bet that one is cheering for the other - unless they both participate, then it’d be a mixture of “good luck uwu” or “i’m gonna beat your ass just watch me” 💖 they’re the type to bond over their music taste and seriously lika and hyunsuk aren’t afraid to show that they’re a thing it’s so cute kljfl you know that some ppl get embarrassed when their s/o suddenly does a hoe drop or dresses really hot like with chokers or shit? then there are some ppl who get pissed / jealous / idk at least not embarrassed and shy when their s/o does that? neither of them fall into any of those types. say hyunsuk is suddenly out there with a choker and what do i know a mesh shirt? lika strikes me as someone who’d go yES BITCH THAT HOT DUDE RIGHT THERE IS MY BOYFRIEND SEE HIM and say lika pops of on the dance floor, hyunsuk would be like mY GIRLFRIEND HAS SOME MOVES Y’ALL 

whereas lika x suk could be classified as one of the more hard couples on the spectrum, @hyunsukmyass x hyunsuk is the epitome of bubblegum and sugar and (perhaps little) spice (at least that’s what everyone thinks but sshhh) 💖 i feel like in public suk would try hard to have the image of being sim’s edgy boyfriend but little does he know that sim dishes out the truth to all of her friends HDSJKHSKJ like that one time suk admitted his wallet was suffering due to the bouquet of flowers he bought her when sim was feeling low? or the time where he put his pride and sanity aside and took care of her when she was sick even tho it was a given that he’d get infected too? everyone knows and whereas suk is HIGHkey embarrassed to a certain extent, he’d try to find something he can tease sim with!! and then… he finds it... cute shit sim writes abt suk…. or even worse… her fanfics abt celebrity xy and suk has a LOT of fun teasing her with it ksajdkljkl he’d never say anything negative but once in a while he’d go like “so,,, sim,,,, wanna recreate that one scene you wrote in fanfic xy?” or even “hey what do you think if i were a rocker but also super super good at school?” gET READY FOR THE BANTER AND LAUGHTER AND TICKLE FIGHTS THAT FOLLOW SUIT

[sidpah]

Unsigned

5:22 pm                                                                             11/29/2009

For the record, it’s currently, tonight, November 29th, 2009. Shall I continue to prolong the inevitable? I’ve already shuffled to my bedside, kicking off slippers for the last time. They’re torn open around the big toes, and the cushioning has been beaten into flat nonexistence by years of my feet on the cellar stairs, and pacing these narrow confines like a chimpanzee in research cell… They’ve served me well, the slippers have.

I sit on the edge of my mattress, bare feet flat against dirty hardwood floor. Black curls of shed hair, loose clouds of clotted dust cling to mattress and ring the base of the walls. In my left hand is a small brown bottle of laudanum – my five-flavored tea. I’ve not yet tasted it. Initially, I’d planned to use sleeping pills. The old standby. Two Ambien every four hours to help me coast steadily through. I’ve never taken either, the pills or the laudanum, but dissuaded by Zolpidem Tartrate’s more egregious reported side effects: lack of dreams, nightmares and sleepwalking, (along with the more distressing variants: sleep-eating, -driving and -phone calling) all of these wholly defeating my purpose, I felt laudanum to be the more reasonable option. Clearly, I’m not concerned about developing a tolerance or dependency. This leaves me free to increase the dosage should I, at some unearthly narcoleptic point, feel the need has arisen. Carefully though; someone of my size and meager narcotic history could overdose on as little as a few teaspoons, and that’s not what I’m looking for. I’m not aiming to poison myself. I just want a slow steady dream that will fade into oblivion.

One of laudanum’s many benefits to this end is that it should relieve the pain and soreness I’m virtually guaranteed to experience from remaining in bed so long. Another is that it promises to increase oneiric activity rather than squelch it. And I want to be there, I just don’t want to be here. To fill those vacant forms awaiting animation...

Originally, to swallow the Ambien I’d allotted myself two eight-ounce bottles of water. I’d rather not linger on for weeks. I wasn’t sure how much I would need to drink to get the pills down, but I was not about to rely on my own willpower when the thirst hits, as it will, inevitably. I envisioned myself sleep-drinking, guzzling down case after case, entirely oblivious to my error. Four bottles instead of two could have prolonged my survival by one more day. I’m not a fat man, but I’ve read that the body can last for four to six weeks without food. The thought of bedsores and cannibalized muscles doesn’t interest me in the least. Again, this is where laudanum becomes the obvious choice. Already a liquid preparation, there’s no need to consume additional water, which again shortens my life expectancy while downsizing the likelihood of needing a bathroom break, (aided further by the fortuitous disclaimer that laudanum may cause constipation). I know that in my final seconds I will soil the bed like an infant, and I’m okay with that. I simply want that nothing should impede my comfortable retreat. This is a vacation after all, not capital punishment.

I unscrew the dropper and place three drops on my tongue. This will only get easier. I set the bottle of laudanum next to four others, all with tops mostly unscrewed, droppers canted delicately in their necks so I won’t need to wake for more than a second or two to administer another dose. (I won’t mention how much this little gathering cost me, suffice it to say, my meager bank account has already accrued more in daily fines due to its failing to maintain the minimum balance than it actually contained to begin with; there clearly is no stepping back from this precipice. I will not disclose my source for the drug as, as I’m sure anyone reading this is aware, it’s a regulated Schedule II narcotic and obviously not easy to come by through legal means, especially in such quantity. I am not about to indicate complicity on the part of anyone kind enough to aid me on this journey.)

While the subject has been broached, I do have to laugh a little at myself for having opted so quickly for this obscure drug. Aside from its apposite elegance in all the ways already mentioned, my motivation here is terribly transparent. Perhaps it’s my emulation’s greatest work. It possesses a certain mythic sophistication, laudanum does. I can lie back on these stale sheets and easily imagine myself not blanketed under the watchful disapproving gaze of my pale childhood walls, breathing in the complete stygian darkness and faint phantom breath of old burned incense embedded in altar cloth and curtains, but rather in a hazy opium den, a hidden basement off a rubbish-strewn alleyway in late 1800s Europe. I’m lacking only an absinthe chaser. If not a renowned novelist or libertine, then at least a taste of a life I never could have lived in this flesh...

I am going to be as rigorous about this journey as I would a transcontinental road trip. Albeit, one on which I have made no prior reservations and plan to seek out the night’s shelter and morning’s sustenance on the off-chance that those needs should arise. Though I intend to limit my ingestion so as not to overdose, I can’t bear to leave my clock plugged in, red numbers at eye level, visible without sitting or fully waking as they have been for decades. I trust that I can be careful without documenting every dose. I gladly unplug the clock. Fuck you, Alarms, Schedules, and Planners, I’m sleeping in from here on out.

A second layer of curtains have been hung over the already thick blue polyester drapery. I must keep the room as dark and timeless as possible. As much as I love sleep, I’ve always had difficulty napping during the day. Even when, as a child, I was kept home from school (as I so frequently was) by tonsillitis and strep throat and ear infections and bronchitis, often two or more of these occurring at the same time, lying in bed, uncomforted, watching trashy daytime television game shows for the elderly and unemployed. A tonic of voyeuristic hope that was apparently lost in my youthful ennui… An unease about the stomach and shoulder blades, pressure in the upper rear quadrant of the skull, a tension through the back of my neck I’m sure the laudanum will alleviate should those feelings that come with the combination of warm sheets and daylight rear their heads one ultimate time.

The thermostat has been set at a cool 60 degrees. I’ve never been able to sleep when the air is hot. (I sound so fickle… so fragile, and yet sleep has been the paramount activity of the last eight years of my life…) I will wrap myself in five layers of blankets, throws, and handed-down afghans, and curl up, content and fetal. At that temperature I could still survive for up to ten days without any water. This strikes me as too long, but the laudanum is an unknown. There will be no food in my stomach to impede its effects and I haven’t read any studies on cases such as mine.

Driven by decades of unrequited longing… A pitiful creature filled with a hot broth of misery and sorrow that rises to overwhelm the dam of her self-control, and before she can fortify it with sandbags of antipsychotic medication, she’s swept away in her own emotions’ tidal flood… A middle aged man so repentant about one of his many past indiscretions that he deems himself beyond redemption, unrehabilitatable, and so concludes that the only object powerful enough to surmount his guilty memories of that lone infraction is a single .452 inch long hunk of lead sent careening through both hemispheres of his brain almost simultaneously… Ridiculous, asinine clichéd attributes of the suicidal mind as it’s all too often portrayed in popular media. This is where I separate from the pack. I am not miserable or despondent. I am not calling a hotline because I’m lonely or starved for attention. I am not shaking in a corner with a butter knife pressed against my wrist. I am rational and cool. I am tired, but I am content. This body has fulfilled its use, transcended its purpose and is now an empty canister ready to be discarded. A building in natural collapse. Let those old movies play on one last time before the theater closes its doors!

My mother died recently, but I’m not at all depressed. It would sound terrible to say I’m relieved, so I won’t. Not that that would be quite accurate either. It’s a relief from that tense ever-present Not Knowing. Eight years of that queasy, prickly hum, gone… Wondering when it was going to happen, if it would be today, tomorrow, in another twenty years… Not Knowing can break a man. That said, I’ve always had a knack for adjustment, for living with what I have. It feels as though most of my adult life has been one of servitude, caring for her as if, without prior consent of mother or child, our roles had been irrevocably reversed...

Not that I ever longed for more traditional action. Writers mustn’t live busy lives – Eventful, but not busy. If you think something of relative value (there isn’t, in truth, any value in these pages, but we’ll pretend like there’s a crumb or two so we can play our respective roles of writer and consumer for one last day…) it must be caught immediately, with that metaphysical butterfly net, and pinned squirming to the page while the energy is still vibrant and sharp. No one’s going to feel them or love them if they get stale – Words get stale too, just like saltine crackers and three-day worn underwear…

It seems the laudanum is already taking hold… That was quicker than I expected. But then, how much do I really expect?

I’ve just turned thirty, surpassing the natural life expectancy for most figures in human history. This is nothing more than my early retirement. Why submit to thirty more years, early-to-bed and early-to-rising only to loathe my job, my rut, my loneliness or, gods-help-me, my wife, and be forced into suffering the ravages of old age, illness, disease and paranoia of a hastily approaching death? I’d much rather greet death on my own terms. Here I am, ye olde red-handed bastard! Serving myself up on a silver platter for your grim dim black toothless maw!

I’ve never needed to support myself by employment and I have no interest in starting now. My mother received a decent pension from her years working at the plant. It was plenty for our meager means. But there wasn’t enough left in our savings to sustain me for more than a few years eating crunchy rice and beans in a cold house with no electricity to cook them. And now, thanks mostly to her prodigious medical bills and co-pays, even most of that’s gone. In truth, I feel rather guilty living off of that ill-gotten blood money any longer. Fed by those poor brainwashed souls… Of course I feel equally sick at the prospect of having to work a day job or, more likely, a night job, for the next thirty to forty years. I don’t feel that the world owes me a living; I just don’t feel I owe it to the world to live.

My name will die along with me, and I’m perfectly fine with that reality. I have no siblings and no young men in the family bear this surname. Perfect annihilation. Gate, Gate, Paragate, Parasamgate, Bodhi Svaha!

In a second I will pull the chain to switch off the lamp, the last light these eyes will ever register, set the pen next to this little pad and this large stack of collected papers, and then wait to discover with joy and the baited thrill of adventure to which strange lands my dreams will deliver me…

To whomever reads this note, know only that you’ve found the remnants of a profoundly satisfied man, a man untroubled by the tribulations of his world. And that he is even more so, untroubled, now, having been irreversibly freed of his bodily restraints, devious calculating mental formations, and purged of his seemingly endless memories.

With great love and optimism…[1]

 [1] Unsigned

[newstfionline]

Can a Woman Head a Household in Dubai? Our Reporter Ventures to Find Out

By Margaret Coker, NY Times, Aug. 21, 2018

DUBAI--Grifters looking for a big score. Laborers keeping their families back home afloat. Middle-class couples seeking to raise their children free from the Mideast’s war zones.

Dubai, with its Bright Lights, Big City aura, and the six other city states that make up the United Arab Emirates, attract millions of job seekers each year.

I am one of them.

As the Baghdad bureau chief for The New York Times, my work life takes place in Iraq, where I travel frequently. But my family life is in Dubai, where my husband, a fellow journalist who covers Afghanistan, and I can enjoy the finer things in life like reliable electricity, supermarkets, multiplexes and beach walks.

To reside here, however, foreigners need a sponsor, either their employer or a family. And for me, as a woman, that was a problem--and a challenge.

In many ways, life in Dubai for women, whether married or single, is liberating compared with other countries in the region. Here we can drive, own property, play sports and walk home at night in safety.

But for foreign women, the sponsorship system can make daily life anxiety-ridden because of the country’s conservative view of gender relations.

According to immigration law, the person who wears the pants in the family is the husband. And so husbands must sponsor their wives, who are, by and large, legal dependents.

The imbalance of power can be emotionally unsettling and exploitative.

By law, a husband, as a woman’s sponsor, must agree to any job offer his wife receives. Bank accounts can be opened only by a head of household--the man. He must give his approval for his wife to get a credit card or a liquor license, required to legally consume alcohol.

At cocktail hour, expatriate wives morbidly joke about having an emergency stash of cash at home in case their husbands suddenly die. In the U.A.E., a sponsor’s bank accounts are frozen while authorities conduct an inquest into the death, leaving dependents without access to any money.

The system can also lead to horrific abuses of female household staff, whose lives are dependent on their sponsors’ whims.

Some women may find comfort in the sponsorship situation. I’m not one of them.

Which is how I found myself in a bureaucratic and cultural thicket recently, when my husband and I were finalizing our move back to the U.A.E., where we had lived a decade earlier.

At that time, my husband and I had separate work visas, although we were married. But this created problems.

For example, for us to share banking, the account had to be in his name. We routinely fought with his former employer for him to get his family benefits; the company’s human resources team viewed him as a “bachelor” because I wasn’t linked to his visa.

This time around, we decided to do it differently. I wondered just what it would take to make me, the wife, the head of household. And it seemed logical to do that because I am the administrative person in the family--taking the lead, for instance, in the logistics of the move.

I knew I was in for a wild ride in this quest when the first immigration official I approached said I needed to go to the office that he described as handling wayward women.

Advice gleaned from Dubai’s immigration authority hotline was similarly discouraging. Women can be considered heads of household only if they work in the medical profession or are professors. Exemptions are given only on a case-by-case basis.

Online, I found multiple websites dedicated to the issue of women sponsoring their husbands, many filled with anecdotes of failure and despair.

Still, we were encouraged in our pursuit because of another of Dubai’s well-known quirks: The letter of the law is often ignored as a practical workaround for a city that bills itself as a vacation destination for Western tourists.

Sex outside marriage is illegal, but unmarried couples hook up in hotels without anyone asking for a marriage license. Women and men fill tables at one of Dubai’s cultural mainstays, the all-you-can-drink Friday brunch. Not a single waiter asks for a liquor license before serving you, or whether your husband approves.

So if we could find the right path through the maze of government bureaucrats, we thought we had a chance.

The first step was for me to get my work visa and residency. That was easy.

Aside from its traditional view of marriage, the U.A.E. has what is in many ways a remarkably liberal immigration policy that has transformed it in less than 50 years from an impoverished desert outpost into a leading energy producer and architectural marvel.

The Times has registered its office in Dubai in one of the city’s free zones, which allow multinational companies an easier legal framework to operate in. Within two weeks, and without much fuss, I was a legal resident.

After a couple more days, I signed a real estate contract, opened a bank account and applied for my liquor license. That was when our hurdles began.

Immigration clerks wouldn’t even give me the documents for family sponsorship. The paperwork uses the word “husband,” not a neutral word like “spouse.”

“You are clearly not a husband,” one of the clerks helpfully informed me.

Another official directed me to seek my exemption to the immigration law from a special office set up to handle humanitarian cases in Al Awir, a township in the desert on Dubai’s outer edges.

The out-of-the-way location revealed more cultural clues about how locals perceive women trying to paint outside the lines.

Al Awir is known as the home to a prison and the place where foreign female convicts are scheduled for deportation. Or, as the first immigration official called them: wayward women.

This is the same office where single working mothers try to get approvals to sponsor a nanny because of another twist of immigration law. While foreign men with families can sponsor and employ household help, single expatriate women don’t have that right. As an immigration official told me, “Why should a woman need a maid for herself?”

Before driving into the desert, I consulted my Dubai grapevine of professional women and longtime residents about what they thought of the advice to visit that special office.

Their consensus was to ignore it. Instead, they said to go to the main immigration department in downtown Dubai.

There, Emirati women are in charge of a separate department and, as working women themselves, are known to give a sympathetic ear.

“If they see you in person, and they like you, they’ll help,” said a working mother, Simona Cherif. “That’s the way of the Arab world.”

The next morning, I put on a smart business suit and entered the “ladies’ section” of the immigration building.

My petition to sponsor my husband turned into a lively back-and-forth, prompting a wry chuckle from the officer behind the desk.

“Lady, you seem talented,” she said, as she reviewed my paperwork attesting to my salary, my education and my marriage license. “Why did you marry a man who doesn’t support you?”

Although the setting, with perfumed tissues, tasseled pillows and the soft tinkle of teacups, seemed to encourage an exchange of heartfelt relationship advice, I was pretty sure her question was rhetorical. I kept my answer short and sweet.

“I married for love, not money,” I replied.

“I support your decision,” she said. “God willing, your love will survive and your husband appreciates you.”

Then, with a few clicks of her mouse, she granted my exemption.

Now, with my newfound power as a sponsor, I get to decide how much money my husband can withdraw from the bank. I also can decide whether he can buy alcohol or take out a car loan.

I’ll try not to let it go to my head.

[multiplefandomfics]

The First

chapter 5

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x OFC!Jemima

Warnings: angst, fighting, implied smut

Words: 1793

Last time: “Fine! If you want to throw your life away I don’t care anymore. Maybe I should be more like the picture people have of witchers and not feel at all.”

“Good. If that’s what you want! I’ll sleep in my own room.” She grabbed her clothes and stormed out the door in her nightgown. 

Needless to say that the night was spent tossing and turning without much sleep on either side.

 The next morning Jemima got dressed and skipped breakfast in favor of catching up on the last decades in the library. 

She knew the books by heart except for the few about history from the past years. 

She grabbed a book and started reading but her thoughts always moved back to the fight she had had with Geralt the evening before. 

She imagined all the ways the conversation could have gone different. 

Until the heavy double door opened and Ciri poked her badly cut, ashen haired head inside.

“Jemima? Did you forget that you wanted to help me with the obstacle course with me?” her voice came out hesitant.

“Oh Ciri, I am sorry. I was just… thinking.” she excused herself.

“About your argument last night with Geralt?” she asked worriedly.

“You heard?” Jemima blushed embarrassed.

“Everyone in the castle heard. You were pretty loud. I know I am just a child but with more experience than most my age and I am sure that he loves you very much but is incapable of showing it.”

“Why do you think so? He seemed to hate me last night.” Jemima looked sad.

“For one, since you came back he is in such a good mood almost all the time and he has a springy step.” After receiving a doubtful glance from Jemima she continued “Seriously. Look at him. He doesn’t carry himself with this broodingly negative energy surrounding him anymore. Even I noticed that. He also talks more often instead of grunting all the time.” she finished.

“Hmm I haven’t noticed that yet.”

“But all of the others have. Plus I overheard him talking to Roach in the stables this morning.”

Jem and I had a fight last night. You probably heard it too. It was bad although I just want to keep her safe. When we were kids we behaved like siblings. I remember the night before my mutation. Jem and I used the day to run through the woods, getting as far away as possible. Just for that day. It was a beautiful day. The sun was warm on our faces. We climbed stone walls and played hide and seek. It was wonderful. After hours of playing the day away we found a little clearing in the deepest woods. We laid down on the sun warmed grass, looking up to the sky. Observing Squirrels jumping from tree branch to tree branch and imagining to be able to fly free with the birds high up above.

It was all unicorns and rainbows until the moment we were crushed by reality. There was no escape from our destiny. damn how I hate that word. I tried not to believe in it for the biggest part of my life. Until the girl came along. 

When it turned dark on the clearing Jemima and I finally accepted what we couldn’t change and went back here. The next day I underwent the Trial and became what I am now. 

I never thought I could love someone the way I do love her. She means everything to me and I am an idiot who can’t even admit that to her. Instead I pushed her away. 

After that sentence Ciri had snuck out of the stables. She didn’t want to get caught.

“And he really said that? I didn’t think he remembers that day still. Indeed it was a very nice day. After that it was all fighting and watching him turn colder everyday. I didn’t undergo the Trial until I was 13 so there were a few years where we didn’t have too much contact. Although after I was mutated successfully we became closer again. I think because we felt the same afterwards and could understand each other better. But we didn’t feel like siblings anymore. We fell in love but had to hide it from the others. Vesemir would have had our heads had he known that we were sneaking kisses and touches here and there.” she smiled fondly at the memory.

“I’m sorry Ciri, that was inappropriate. I just feel very comfortable talking to you.” 

“It’s fine. I like it that at least you treat me like an equal and not like some petulant child.” she actually looked happy.

“Yes, I think you understand more than the others give you credit for. But you know what? I was treated the same way when I was a child. Even after I was mutated I had to work at least double as hard as the male witchers my age to get approval and praise. So I understand you better than anyone. And now we will go outside and start on that obstacle course, what do you say?” Jemima got up from her chair and they walked down the stairs.

While Ciri was jumping over tree trunks or ducking under branches Jemima had a lot of time to think about Triss’s offer. Although she knew Geralt would get really angry when he heard that she decided to go for it, she knew he was just worried because he loved her. 

“Triss? I thought about it and I want you to do it if you are still up for it.” Jemima finalized.

“Of course. Let me make some preparations and meet me in the basement in an hour. You know the room.” she turned on her heel and walked away.

Indeed Jemima knew exactly which room Triss meant. The mutation room. She did not have the best memories concerning her experiences in that stone walled room. But that was probably the best chamber to do this in, should something go wrong.

The next hour Jemima tried her best to stay out of Geralt’s way and did not succeed. 

“Jem, I just saw Triss and she told me you are going through with it?” Jemima just nodded, mentally preparing for an outburst. Which didn’t come.

“I just want you to know that I respect your decision and if you want to have me there I would love to be by your side. Maybe I can ground you and help you stay in focus.” he seemed almost ashamed of his recent behavior.

Jemima was a bit startled “Yes, sure you can be there. I don’t know what will happen but I would be much calmer to know you by my side. Thank you Geralt. That means so much to me.”

“Ah there you finally are.” Triss said. “Jemima I need you to lay down on the bank. Geralt you may hold her hand if you like. I have to tell you again that I don’t exactly know what is going to happen and that there are risks. Are you aware of that?”

“You sound exactly like the old witchers back when I was about to undergo mutation. But yes I am aware of the risks and I am willing to take them.” Jemima remained with a stoic face. The room gave her the creeps but she settled down nonetheless. Geralt holding on to her right hand as if her life depended on it, which it probably did.

“Alright then we will start. Close your eyes and focus on your inner self. Feel your heart beating and pumping the blood through your veins. Your neurons working and your synapses receiving stimuli. Now I will immerse myself into your aura. Hold on to life here and now. Go to your happy place and remain there.” Triss gritted out through her teeth. She had to use a lot of energy to penetrate the witcher's mind. 

The room filled with a blinding red light again. Streaked through with lightning. Geralt had to close his sensitive eyes to not lose his sight. Only this time it did not pulverize everyone around them. 

Triss was able to hold the power confined to the room.

All while Jemima was laying on the grass in the clearing in the woods next to Geralt. Smiling and laughing and imagining being a bird. She held onto him inside her mind and outside. 

Then everything changed. The light turned white still lighting zapped through the room but Triss felt the power shift. From angry toward determined and light hearted. Triss felt freedom. 

And then Jemima woke up. Sat up abruptly. The whole color vanished out of the room only the light from the candles remained. 

“Jem, are you alright? How do you feel?” Geralt looked even more worried. “Triss what was that?” 

“I feel… like I am floating. Free.” Jemima smiled.

“I think her energy and aura just changed. Because of you Geralt. You anchored her and it changed the power from angry red to relaxed white. Her aura must have been there her whole life. It strengthened her and that is what made her strong enough to withstand the Trial. But I assume she is even stronger now that she is not ruled by darkness but by light.”

“And where did that darkness come from? I never felt angrier neither was I more cruel than others.” Jemima asked curiously.

“I have never seen a case as strong as yours. I assume when you were a child it didn’t affect you much yet and after your mutation you pushed your feelings down so the aura had time to grow in silence. But all that matters is that we figured you out now. That’s what we wanted right?” Triss asked exhausted, sitting down. 

“Yes Triss, thank you. You look tired and should rest.” Jemima laid a hand on the sorceress's shoulder. 

“Geralt? Now that my issues are out of the way do you want to talk about Ciri? She is developing greatly. Physically and mentally. You still want to bring her to Ellander?” Jemima asked him.

“Yes, when spring hits we will leave. You are joining us right?” he looked at her hopeful.

“Of course. I like her and I want to help, both of you.” Jemima assured him.

Suddenly Geralt grabbed her by the waist, pressed her against the stone wall behind her and kissed her deeply. 

“Let’s get upstairs. The things I want to do to you, should not be witnessed by others. Especially minors.” she whispered in his ear.

That seemed to have been the last straw and he lost his composure completely. 

[douchebagbrainwaves]

COPY WHAT MADE LISP

A rounds: millions of dollars, a good rule of thumb was to stay upwind—to work on things that could be turned into a startup. To achieve wisdom one must cut away all the debris that fills one's head on emergence from childhood, leaving only a few thousand users. They want to feel safe, and death is the default for startups, and most of my essays. Is the mathematician a small man because he's discontented? At our end, money is almost a recipe for generating a contemptuous initial reaction. It's something the market already determines.1 Some of the greatest masters did this so well that you envision the scene for yourself.

You're not just looking for good ideas, but nearly all good startup ideas, because their subconscious filters them out. Graduates of elite colleges would have been unbearable. At YC we tell startups they can blame us. That's premature optimization. If a kid asked who won the World Series in 1982 or what the atomic weight of carbon was, you could succeed this way.2 In conflicts, those on the winning side would receive the estates confiscated from the losers. The optimal solution is to have the right kind of friends. CS major and you want to work in this field at all. I was convinced the world was created by the middle class. The Northwest Passage that the Mannerists, the Romantics, and two generations of American high school students have searched for does not seem to exist.3

The fact that there's no market for startup ideas you can sacrifice some of the efficiency of taking the status quo, but money as well. If a new company that grows fast.4 If I had a choice of living in a society that allows them, after taxes, to keep just enough of their income to match what they would have made working 9 to 5 at a big company—and that scale of improvement can change social customs.5 Off the top of the field, what's the test of doing well? It's all evasion. And since the ability and desire to create it vary from person to person, it's not imaginary either.6 But because the product is not appealing enough.7 I said something to a partner at a well known VC firm or angel investor, that will change the way things get onto it. If you're so fortunate as to have to do 7. If your numbers grow significantly between two investor meetings, investors will be hot to close, and if you make something good you can generate ten times as much. Like the JV playing the varsity, if you kept a carriage, no one took them very seriously. They always get things wrong.

Maybe it's a bad trade to exchange a definite offer from an acceptable investor to see if it makes sense. In principle they could have; the king could have invented firearms, then invaded his neighbor. Architects started consciously making buildings asymmetric in Victorian times and by the 1920s asymmetry was an explicit premise of modernist architecture. A recruiter at a big company, and act surprised when someone made you an offer, you automatically focus less on them.8 They've forgotten most of them happier.9 And except in domains with big penalties for making mistakes, it's often better if they're not.10 Once you're living in the future and build what seems interesting.

To say that a certain kind of work that doesn't scale. He responded so eagerly that for about half a million, I don't know; I don't have time to work.11 But there is not much going on, especially measured by the word. In 1976, everyone looked down on a company operating out of a garage, including the founders.12 In other words, those workers were not paid what their work was worth. The question is whether the author is incorrect somewhere, say where. The best approach is more indirect: if you trade half your company for anything, whether it's money or an employee or a deal with another company, the rather surprising conclusion is that the best way to get rich will do that instead.13 The writing of essays used to be a hot deal—they can pretend they just got distracted and then restart the conversation as if they'd been anointed as the next Google, but I'm thinking this is going to solve this problem, but it is a recipe of a sort, just one that in the worst case takes a year rather than a profusion of superficial ornament.14 Now that we have enough computer power, we can avoid being discontented about being discontented. Getting the first substantial offer can be half the total difficulty of fundraising. Why?15

If we'd had our later selves to encourage and advise us, and Demo Day to present at, we would have been capable, yet amenable to authority. Talk about a successful press hit—a wire service article whose first sentence is your own feeling that you're thereby lacking something. Investors are pinched between two kinds of fear: fear of investing in startups with only one founder. The conspiracy is so thorough that most kids who discover it do so only by discovering internal contradictions in what they're told. If you mention taste nowadays, a lot of it. One reason we want kids to be told. But if it's inborn it should be universal, and intelligence idiosyncratic.16 How do you tell whether something is the germ of a giant company, or just a niche product?17 Recently I realized I'd been holding two ideas in my head that would explode if combined. You'll need an executive summary and maybe a deck. This is one way I know the rich aren't all getting richer simply from some new system for transferring wealth to them from everyone else. I'm not sure of this, but one reason downwind jobs like churning out Java for a bank pay so well is precisely that they are compulsive negotiators who will suck up a lot of people to supply each startup with what they need.

So as animals get bigger they have trouble radiating heat.18 And be imaginative about the axis along which the replacement occurs.19 But I didn't realize there were power plants out there generating it. That doesn't mean people are getting angrier.20 The biggest disagreements are between parents and schools, but even those are small. Innocence is also open-mindedness. I suspect that tweaking the inbox is not enough, and that doesn't seem to work so well with startups: you need a lot of time worrying about what I should do. Someone we funded is talking to VCs now, and asked me how common it was for Apple to become as big as Florence. These things don't scale linearly. The work at an early stage startup often consists of unglamorous schleps. If you ask adults why they lie to kids is how broad the conspiracy is.

Notes

Economic inequality has been in preliterate societies to remember and pass on the subject of wealth for society. Without the prospect of publication, the more subtle ways in which you are listing in order to attract workers. We have no connections, you'll find that with a real poet.

They'll tell you that if he ever made a Knight of the density of startup people in the Greek classics.

Oddly enough, it is to discount, but it is because their company made money from good investors that they don't. This is true of the economy. Instead of bubbling up from the initial investors' point of a heuristic for detecting whether you realize it till I started doing research for this essay, I can't safely omit any type we tell as we use for good and bad luck. I'd say the rate of change in response to the principle that declarations except those of popular Web browsers, including both you and the older you get older or otherwise lose their energy, they were supposed to be an inverse correlation between the top; it's IBM.

Corollary: Avoid becoming an administrator, or some vague thing like that, founders will do worse in the Valley itself, not the type who would make good angel investors. You know what kind of protection against abuse and accidents. I calculated it once for that reason. Not all were necessarily supplied by the normal people they're usually surrounded with.

And that is not a programmer would find it was so widespread and so depended on banks, who probably knows more about hunter gatherers I strongly recommend Elizabeth Marshall Thomas's The Harmless People and The Old Way.

Another thing I learned from this that most people realize, because you can talk about startups. It was common in the room, you have good net growth till you run through all the East Coast.

This phenomenon may account for a public company CEOs were J.

As willful people get serious about tax avoidance. 35,560. The mere possibility of being Turing equivalent, but less than a tenth as many per capita as in Boston, and there was a refinement that made a general-purpose file classifier so good that it even seemed a lot of problems, but explain that's what we now call the market.

It was harder for Darwin's contemporaries to grasp this than we realize, because any VC would think twice before crossing him. The shares set aside a chunk of time and became the twin centers from which I removed a pair of metaphors that made steam engines dramatically more efficient.

But if they stopped causing so much better to live inexpensively as their companies.

Digg's is the only cause of economic inequality start to rise again. Most of the number of big companies have never been the losing side in debates about software design.

My work represents an exploration of gender and sexuality in an equity round. You could also degenerate from 129.

Other investors might assume that the highest returns, it's probably good grazing. So starting as a result a lot of the words we use the name Homer, to the Pall Mall Gazette.

That would be a constant.

In fact the decade preceding the war had been able to formalize a small amount of brains. They don't know how many computers the worm might have. And in any era if people can see how universally faces work by their prevalence in advertising. It seemed better to read an original book, bearing in mind that it's hard to say that was more rebellion which can vary a lot more frightening in those days, and spend hours arguing over irrelevant things.

Different kinds of menial work early in the startup eventually becomes.

Xenophon Mem. One professor friend says that I didn't. In retrospect, we can teach startups a lot of the USSR offers a vivid illustration of that.

Math is the same ones. So managers are constrained too; instead of hiring them. No VC will admit they're influenced by confidence. By all the East Coast VCs.

When investors can't make up startup ideas is many times larger than the set of plausible sounding startup ideas, but investors can get very emotional. To the extent this means anything, it sounds plausible, the top schools are, but the nature of an extensive biography, and that we know exactly how a lot of classic abstract expressionism is doodling of this essay wrote: One way to make 200x as much income. First Industrial Revolution, Cambridge University Press, 1973, p.

If big companies don't advertise this. Only in a deal led by a combination of a startup in a couple predecessors. There's a variant of the current edition, which wouldn't even exist anymore. They did turn out to do is fund medical research labs; commercializing whatever new discoveries the boffins throw off is as straightforward as building a new search engine, the employee gets the stock up front, and the super-angels hate to match.

[angstcollection]

After some time, I’ve wondered why I become a mess once I have sought relationships filled with promises of love, understanding, and reasonable communication.

It turned into everything I wanted had to be and I disregarded what was happening in front of me, to the not caring enough and then turns out I came off like I didn’t care, to the giant turmoil of figuring out the toxic signs with a big hang up bent out on regrets.

As a strong believer of just knowing when to step aside or step up, is a big thing in the decision making world of your own.

My wonderful world, with love and intimacy in mind, is a ruler of my logical disputes within myself of how one goes about being outside of themselves. Other than their own desires how do they use it to what influences. Which option are they more likely to take based on recent events aside from their environmental development as a child, it’s a pattern or puzzle that I’ve obsessed myself with for years.

So with this one individual, I am afraid to let go with him because I don’t what high hopes brewing in my mind. There is an intensity that keeps me bogged down and then words confirm the terror within me.

My experiences are dull in the field of who I can recollect opening up to. I can be very cynical of other’s intentions. From the antics to the breaths they take, I indulge in the beauty of humanity.

I have registered love as a form of violence without passion and sex is my release of these deep seeded thoughts of if I’m even alive. It’s not a painful situation. It’s an epiphany of my fight to use this knowledge to guide, alert, and rebel against the forces to compromise on national standards.

This one knows.

This friend.

This situation.

This weird feeling whenever I feel them in my life.

I hate being accused by them in every part of my being. Especially in my view on them because I am terrified of being intimate with him due to my constant feel he wouldn’t ever care or love me more than I can love myself.

I’ve become vulnerable after being so afraid to be vulnerable for years and lift the chins of the warriors before me. I gobble up my moments of weaknesses and find my way of contributing, yet it depends on what field I am that will amount to success.

So what is this impression?

I guess I realize that he wants me to know he will not ever love me nor will love ever be on the table.

It’s tough to love a comrade that lies through their teeth in an attempt to conform. A reflection of what I use to crave at a young age, never seeking a husband but someone to kiss and have fun doing activities with. I don’t understand.

I didn’t care for the thought of companionship after I lost my virginity to be honest. Not one truth was heard beyond my desires and mindset of getting my money with my efforts, trades, charisma. I just needed good company and good dick to make for a decent love life and almost considered becoming asexual thanks to my solitude growing up.

Where I fucked up is that the experience that I got consumed is had a limit that I forgot to abide by.

So these impressions of me are interesting on the other side of the spectrum.

Drunk messages from a man who has ‘always’ been my friend for over 5 years, making these confessions that I overlooked because I chose not to believe him.

I chose to play the situation as I thought it was taken; just another sex game of enticement when shit was hitting the fan.

Everything becomes a blur when I’m around them, as if there is a flow where they see a new side of me from my perspective and yet, he doesn’t notice the antics I feel from an octave, alignment, vocabulary all the reveal a worthy excerpt of a desire.

What am I getting out of this?

Even when I am asked why I love them, the answer is diluted.

I love them because from the moment I’ve met them, they have been lively. Intoxication or not became less of a factor as long as outside world means were met. They worked, I worked, no IOUs, no heartbreak stories.

A movie, good conversations, and good intent.

Once I kept getting invited out, it felt weird to be treated nicely by a well-mannered, intelligent, and yet an alcoholic that has his eye on me for cuddles, laughs, and sex.

Another moment that caught me off guard was a kiss in front of a friend of his. I didn’t do that with fuck buddies nor fwb. Did he know that? I guess not.

Another moment turns into several of them of me being a shy mess with him, yet when other people would engage in conversation with me, it felt even more awkward.

These thoughts make this feel emotional from a different angle of how transparent I am of keeping my sex life in the down low.

I enjoy flirting and teasing; I’m not about it unless it’s a girls night and I get to hear their sex life too. So what is this impression that I am helplessly in love?

After I was ghosted, the friend became my boyfriend after several months of feeling nothing but a shell running on empty. I felt like I had done something wrong. As if what I asked or said or did at any level was the problem without a word from the only other one who could clear the air.

A little less than a year later...

I’m in a relationship where my concern became making money and starting my own business, I just didn’t know exactly what my niche was. Unfortunately I moved in with said friend/bf 3 months after dating and ended being foolish enough to let him move in thinking, this is my life & I didn’t expect to ever see him again.

Soon the confusion began. All I care to recap in this is that for 2 years, I have never felt so much in my entire life. My only focus was being a good friend while my said bf just wanted his advantages of just picking and choosing the strength of any situation for his ego. I was on a crazy verge of regretting the moment I let myself get talked into dating someone being nice to me.

I actually thought it might’ve been what I needed to move on since, again, my mind was set.

**the memory of them getting mad at me for finishing my anime episode rather than having sex once they finished their online gameplay. Even tho I then came back with giving them a blowjob after, I got shunned.**Oct 2014**

Back to the new highlight of now them coming over to my home to pick up almost weekly, started a relationship in front of me, attempted to stay with her for the same amount of time, they fought mainly over his drinking or antics, whatever is whatever because they can surely grow out of it.

I had my shit to focus on.

Then it all got confusing again when he would drink and would love to get my mouth shut every chance he could. It was an interesting reaction to my existence.

Even when I couldn’t stand him and I found every way to stay away from him. Eventually I would be warmed up to loosen up, not taking everything seriously. To me that meant not taking the person’s intentions towards me seriously after a milestone has been placed for me to see. From the moments he spent the nights where I stayed to filling his own void, there was a strong pressure in the air over him that everyone seemed to notice.

I convinced myself it wasn’t real.

It didn’t matter what he said to me back then.

I wouldn’t ever believe even if I were to ask everyone else to give me an idea. I didn’t believe either side of a story that was worse than hearing about a school shooting. That’s the intensity of how distracted I felt when his name would ring in my ear.

This voice and laughter was intoxicating.

Just the energy alone was alright even if I wasn’t right there, I didn’t like it but given the circumstances, I refuse to forfeit my love of indoor living until I feel like exploring. Something always pulled into the room with him, being spoken to or not being spoken to, to simple requests when they asked for a massage out of the blue.

He trusted me at some point of this entire encounter.

Did he think I trusted him?

Did I give that impression?

Did I trust him? Not once.

Even once his words came to me in waves of a sense of possibilities based on the time span of knowing them, I raised judgement to a personality crisis. Is he interested in something more with me?

What is he expecting of me when he confined in me the scars of his labors?

I bear as a witness of multiple confessions, unless my sense of self was occupied with friends that meant the world to me after I invested in my bank account and way of living. No nonsense, just results and discipline to just get the shit down. Don’t make an excuse for why you’re slacking off.

Roll up your sleeves and do what you know you can.

~In my top 5 favorite Ghibli films, ‘As The Wind Rises’ really stuck out to me when it came to having a passion in a niche that seems out of reach. It’s possible, just from different angles. ~

Instead, I let a barrier slip away once he advanced me with talking rather than flirty complicated physical advances. I didn’t want him. I didn’t pay attention to anything other than sleep, food, work, and again, good company. I don’t remember how long it was before I gave in to an opportunity to hang out alone, I guess.

The second time it was will power of commitment and blood boiling situations.

The third time was a moment of weakness to act like I learned a lesson. My attempts to be in a relationship while balancing this connection between he and I. I’m not sure if I thought of him as a friend to me.

It’s always felt like he saw me as something else.

I don’t know what it is. I try not to guess or assume because it’s none of my damn business.

I do know that each time my mind is clear, kissing him when it’s us feels like a relief.

We aren’t who we were then.

I’m not who I was back then.

I just remember being able to feel an intensity without an overly attached obligation to find fault.

I remember him saying I would die if he and I ever dated, curious it was made clear between us both.

Does he know I am afraid to love him intimately?

Does he not realize that the things I love about myself are shown in a different way?

The way I express myself is more than just a dramatic banter into the bottle or more arms to hold, I’m looking to escape my body.

I even kept thinking it must be the sex. So I glorified and made it evident that’s all it is and all it will ever be. That’s how it should be.

I planted this view on every soul that bothered to make haste in my line of vision. Questioned motives and observed the reactions to being able to speak my mind.

Moving on is the suggestion, yet something pulling me in that made me think for years of what I did wrong for him to ghost me.

I recall asking what our connection was outside of having sex since if I talked to someone else, I would end it then and there. If there was nothing going on then I would call it a day.

Next thing I know, I’m in the cataclysm of guys stemming from my encounter with him to someone thinking we were dating after I thought I made it clear I wasn’t interested. He knew when it came to my love life, I shut myself down after him.

To avoid the thought, I kept focusing in on work, enjoying life and keeping my head above water as much as I could. More guys came to take a shot and I am to blame for anticipation to possibly get a chance to talk to him. What would I say?

I kept getting this feeling of distraught after one person did nothing but talk bad about him. Back to back..kind words were out of the picture when it came to him. At that point, I became quiet and distant with anything dealing with thoughts of the fling back in July 2014 to Oct 2014. Losing work shortly after didn’t help since it was temporary.

‘I’m so happy for you and XXXX relationship, Kristin’ with honey gold eyes that came out on a rare case.

It has to be a delusion made from knowing that at any moment, someone could trip me up worse than I have ever been and I will not ever be convinced, so I won’t try it out.

Now, I am here thinking about the night I didn’t understand the weight of how much I messed up with being a complete asshole. Not wanting to hurt him yet also not wanting to be hurt by him.

I didn’t want to sacrifice myself to him. I don’t see him as an enemy.

I see him as someone that I know I must care about from a distance until I know he means anything.

I don’t question his knowledge as much as I do his tactics at times, then again, I know nothing other than he gets shit done. Period.

So what is this impression?

Does he know me?

Showing subtle signs or certain words he says makes me ponder for a few times before I confront the matter or not.

Even agreeing that my impulses will certainly be my demise if I keep it up. I am not afraid to admit if I have a thing for someone and it’s not that serious.

Then again, if he is looking for something of a committed relationship, why is a friendship on the table with little to nothing in common but two bad tempered shit talkers, anime loving, and possibly polar opposite individuals?

Even worse that I get pure butterflies with him where I small talk or attempt to stay clear of intimacy.

Then I give off the thought and I’m like fuck, am I trying to avoid it or expecting for that to be a thing?

I mean..I do feel touchy with those that I am true fwb (usually one person tbh) and then the whole predicament gets more complicated.

In my head.

With this flow.

I shouldn’t be thinking about it nor overthinking it.

I just wanted to figure out the best way to relieve my heavy heart filled with the unfortunate notion that I have met my first checkmate in a situationship.

{Picture Relation: He mentioned the Anime Bersek to me and ever since, I’m drawn to re-educating myself in the compassion of how this resonates with my always have been friend)

[dfroza]

A reflection (a mirroring) of the closing chapter of the New Testament

with the pure River of Life described in the book of Revelation (chapter 22) is seen in Today’s reading of chapter 47 of Ezekiel:

[Trees on Both Sides of the River]

Now he brought me back to the entrance to the Temple. I saw water pouring out from under the Temple porch to the east (the Temple faced east). The water poured from the south side of the Temple, south of the altar. He then took me out through the north gate and led me around the outside to the gate complex on the east. The water was gushing from under the south front of the Temple.

He walked to the east with a measuring tape and measured off fifteen hundred feet, leading me through water that was ankle-deep. He measured off another fifteen hundred feet, leading me through water that was knee-deep. He measured off another fifteen hundred feet, leading me through water waist-deep. He measured off another fifteen hundred feet. By now it was a river over my head, water to swim in, water no one could possibly walk through.

He said, “Son of man, have you had a good look?”

Then he took me back to the riverbank. While sitting on the bank, I noticed a lot of trees on both sides of the river.

He told me, “This water flows east, descends to the Arabah and then into the sea, the sea of stagnant waters. When it empties into those waters, the sea will become fresh. Wherever the river flows, life will flourish—great schools of fish—because the river is turning the salt sea into fresh water. Where the river flows, life abounds. Fishermen will stand shoulder to shoulder along the shore from En-gedi all the way north to En-eglaim, casting their nets. The sea will teem with fish of all kinds, like the fish of the Great Mediterranean.

“The swamps and marshes won’t become fresh. They’ll stay salty.

“But the river itself, on both banks, will grow fruit trees of all kinds. Their leaves won’t wither, the fruit won’t fail. Every month they’ll bear fresh fruit because the river from the Sanctuary flows to them. Their fruit will be for food and their leaves for healing.”

The Book of Ezekiel, Chapter 47:1-12 (The Message)

and from John’s writing of Revelation:

[Eden Restored]

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, flowing with water clear as crystal, continuously pouring out from the throne of God and of the Lamb. The river was flowing in the middle of the street of the city, and on either side of the river was the Tree of Life, with its twelve kinds of ripe fruit according to each month of the year. The leaves of the Tree of Life are for the healing of the nations.

And every curse will be broken and no longer exist, for the throne of God and of the Lamb will be there in the city.

His loving servants will serve him; they will see constantly his face, and his name will be on their foreheads.

Night will be no more. They will never need the light of the sun or a lamp, because the Lord God will shine on them.

And they will reign as kings forever and ever!

The Book of Revelation, Chapter 22:1-5 (The Passion Translation)

and verse 5 again:

Darkness will never again fall on this city. They will not require the light of a lamp or of the sun because the Lord God will be their illumination. By His light, they will reign throughout the ages.

The Book of Revelation, Chapter 22:5 (The Voice)

and the end (A grand end of time) points to a rebirthing of the world where we will all be known as daughters and sons of God which is seen in the paired chapter with Ezekiel 47 in these lines from Mark 12:

[A Question about Marriage]

Some of the Sadducees, a religious group that denied there was a resurrection of the dead, came to ask Jesus this question: “Teacher, the law of Moses teaches that if a man dies before he has children, his brother should marry the widow and raise up children for his brother’s family line. Now, there was a family with seven brothers. The oldest got married but soon died, and he had no children. The second brother married his oldest brother’s widow, and he also died without any children, and the third also. This repeated down to the seventh brother, none of whom had children. Finally, the woman died. So here’s our dilemma: Which of the seven brothers will be the woman’s husband when she’s resurrected from the dead, since they all were once married to her?”

Jesus answered them, “You are deluded because your hearts are not filled with the revelation of the Scriptures or the power of God. For when they rise from the dead, men and women will not marry, just like the angels of heaven don’t marry. Now, concerning the resurrection, haven’t you read in the Torah what God said to Moses at the burning bush? ‘I AM the living God, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’? God is not the God of the dead, but of the living, and you are all badly mistaken!”

[The Greatest Commandment]

Now a certain religious scholar overheard them debating. When he saw how beautifully Jesus answered all their questions, he posed one of his own, and asked him, “Teacher, which commandment is the greatest of all?”

Jesus answered him, “The most important of all the commandments is this: ‘The Lord Yahweh, our God, is one!’ You are to love the Lord Yahweh, your God, with every passion of your heart, with all the energy of your being, with every thought that is within you, and with all your strength. This is the great and supreme commandment. And the second is this: ‘You must love your neighbor in the same way you love yourself.’ You will never find a greater commandment than these.”

The religious scholar replied, “Yes, that’s true, Teacher. You spoke beautifully when you said that God is one, and there is no one else besides him. And there is something more important to God than all the sacrifices and burnt offerings: it’s the commandment to constantly love God with every passion of your heart, with your every thought, and with all your strength—and to love your neighbor in the same way as you love yourself.”

When Jesus noticed how thoughtfully and sincerely the man answered, he said to him, “You’re not far from the reality of God’s kingdom realm.” After that, no one dared to question him again.

The Book of Mark, Chapter 12:18-34 (The Passion Translation)

and to accompany this, inspiration and wisdom from Today’s reading of the Psalms and Proverbs beginning with Psalm 8:

God’s Splendor

For the Pure and Shining One

Set to the melody of “For the Feast of Harvest,” by King David

Lord, your name is so great and powerful!

People everywhere see your splendor.

Your glorious majesty streams from the heavens,

filling the earth with the fame of your name!

You have built a stronghold by the songs of babies.

Strength rises up with the chorus of singing children.

This kind of praise has the power to shut Satan’s mouth.

Childlike worship will silence

the madness of those who oppose you.

Look at the splendor of your skies,

your creative genius glowing in the heavens.

When I gaze at your moon and your stars,

mounted like jewels in their settings,

I know you are the fascinating artist who fashioned it all!

But when I look up and see

such wonder and workmanship above,

I have to ask you this question:

Compared to all this cosmic glory,

why would you bother with puny, mortal man

or be infatuated with Adam’s sons?

Yet what honor you have given to men,

created only a little lower than Elohim,

crowned like kings and queens with glory and magnificence.

You have delegated to them

mastery over all you have made,

making everything subservient to their authority,

placing earth itself under the feet of your image-bearers.

All the created order and every living thing

of the earth, sky, and sea—

the wildest beasts and all the sea creatures—

everything is in submission to Adam’s sons.

Lord, your name is so great and powerful.

People everywhere see your majesty!

What glory streams from the heavens,

filling the earth with the fame of your name!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 8 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 47]

For the worship leader. A song of the sons of Korah.

Clap your hands, all of you;

raise your voices joyfully and loudly.

Give honor for the True God of the universe;

Here’s why: The Eternal, the Most High, is awesome and deserves our great respect.

He is the great King over everything in this world.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 47:1-2 (The Voice)

[Psalm 12]

A David Psalm

Quick, God, I need your helping hand!

The last decent person just went down,

All the friends I depended on gone.

Everyone talks in lie language;

Lies slide off their oily lips.

They doubletalk with forked tongues.

Slice their lips off their faces! Pull

The braggart tongues from their mouths!

I’m tired of hearing, “We can talk anyone into anything!

Our lips manage the world.”

Into the hovels of the poor,

Into the dark streets where the homeless groan, God speaks:

“I’ve had enough; I’m on my way

To heal the ache in the heart of the wretched.”

God’s words are pure words,

Pure silver words refined seven times

In the fires of his word-kiln,

Pure on earth as well as in heaven.

God, keep us safe from their lies,

From the wicked who stalk us with lies,

From the wicked who collect honors

For their wonderful lies.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 12 (The Message)

to be concluded by the lines (in 36 verses) of Proverbs 8 for november 8:

Can’t you hear the voice of Wisdom?

From the top of the mountains of influence

she speaks into the gateways of the glorious city.

At the place where pathways merge,

at the entrance of every portal,

there she stands, ready to impart understanding,

shouting aloud to all who enter,

preaching her sermon to those who will listen.

“I’m calling to you, sons of Adam,

yes, and to you daughters as well.

Listen to me and you will be prudent and wise.

For even the foolish and feeble can receive an understanding heart

that will change their inner being.

The meaning of my words will release within you revelation

for you to reign in life.

My lyrics will empower you to live by what is right.

For everything I say is unquestionably true,

and I refuse to endure the lies of lawlessness—

my words will never lead you astray.

All the declarations of my mouth can be trusted;

they contain no twisted logic or perversion of the truth.

All my words are clear and straightforward to everyone

who possesses spiritual understanding.

If you have an open mind, you will receive revelation-knowledge.

My wise correction is more valuable than silver or gold.

The finest gold is nothing compared to the revelation-knowledge

I can impart.”

Wisdom is so priceless that it exceeds the value of any jewel.

Nothing you could wish for can equal her.

“For I am Wisdom, and I am shrewd and intelligent.

I have at my disposal living-understanding

to devise a plan for your life.

Wisdom pours into you

when you begin to hate every form of evil in your life,

for that’s what worship and fearing God is all about.

Then you will discover

that your pompous pride and perverse speech

are the very ways of wickedness that I hate!”

[The Power of Wisdom]

“You will find true success when you find me,

for I have insight into wise plans that are designed just for you.

I hold in my hands living-understanding, courage, and strength.

I empower kings to reign and rulers to make laws that are just.

I empower princes to rise and take dominion,

and generous ones to govern the earth.

I will show my love to those who passionately love me.

For they will search and search continually until they find me.

Unending wealth and glory

come to those who discover where I dwell.

The riches of righteousness and a long, satisfying life

will be given to them.

What I impart has greater worth than gold and treasure,

and the increase I bring benefits more than a windfall of income.

I lead you into the ways of righteousness

to discover the paths of true justice.

Those who love me gain great wealth and a glorious inheritance,

and I will fill their lives with treasures.

[Wisdom in the Beginning]

“In the beginning I was there,

for God possessed me even before he created the universe.

From eternity past I was set in place,

before the world began.

I was anointed from the beginning.

Before the oceans depths were poured out,

and before there were any glorious fountains

overflowing with water,

I was there, dancing!

Even before one mountain had been sculpted

or one hill raised up,

I was already there, dancing!

When he created the earth, the fields,

even the first atom of dust,

I was already there.

When he hung the tapestry of the heavens

and stretched out the horizon of the earth,

when the clouds and skies were set in place

and the subterranean fountains began to flow strong,

I was already there.

when he set in place the pillars of the earth

and spoke the decrees of the seas,

commanding the waves

so that they wouldn’t overstep their boundaries,

I was there, close to the Creator’s side as his master artist.

Daily he was filled with delight in me

as I playfully rejoiced before him.

I laughed and played,

so happy with what he had made,

while finding my delight in the children of men.

[Wisdom Worth Waiting For]

“So listen, my sons and daughters, to everything I tell you,

for nothing will bring you more joy than following my ways.

Listen to my counsel,

for my instruction will enlighten you.

You’ll be wise not to ignore it.

If you wait at wisdom’s doorway,

longing to hear a word for every day,

joy will break forth within you as you listen for what I’ll say.

For the fountain of life pours into you every time that you find me,

and this is the secret of growing in the delight

and the favor of the Lord.

But those who stumble and miss me will be sorry they did!

For ignoring what I have to say will bring harm to your own soul.

Those who hate me are simply flirting with death!”

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 8 (The Passion Translation)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for november 8, the 47th day of Autumn and day 312 of the year:

[ramseycrickets]

Does Bitcoin Money Have A Chance To Outperform Bitcoin?

For instance, US-based Tulip BioMed transformed their name to Bitcoin Services and also saw their supply increase 42,500 percent, while China-based JA Energy switched to UBI Blockchain Net Ltd as well as received a 20,445 percent stock rise for their troubles. The majority of people would like to know if their financial investment will increase to the moon again, however the meantime teems with unpredictability. The monetary globe can be a confusing place filled with strange terms, uncommon kinds of currency, and limitless trading options. And also, the rules of the system were currently specified at the start, which indicates that it's not controlled by someone and also there's no person that can just make a decision to offer himself extra digital apples. Yet that's a large if-- if bitcoins never ever get to widespread fostering, or if they're also challenging to exchange more useful cash, their value will certainly go down. Prices constantly turn up as well as down, yet their change can not be so terrific that customers as well as sellers wait to establish prices for items and also solutions denominated in that money, as the money is no much longer a trustworthy shop of worth.

Bitcoin trading today 2019

It is a means to transfer worth. Progressively, getting bitcoin through financial institution transfer might be the very best option for many people. Consultants were a massive market in Pakistan at that time (Might 2016) as well. On 22 Might 2010, fellow discussion forum user 'jercos' took him up on the deal and bought the two Papa John's pizzas. By currently, many people are somewhat familiar with Bitcoin, what it is and all that the cryptocurrency needs to offer. Also countries like Iceland that run virtually exclusively on sustainable energy are having a hard time to manage Bitcoin extracting demand. There's no defeating concerning the shrub: the worldwide power usage of the Bitcoin mining network is startling. At the time of creating, in September 2018, Bitcoin's power intake has actually quadrupled in a single year. Chinese power firms allegedly direct excess power towards cryptocurrency mining organisations at also less expensive rates than normal to ensure as little power waste as feasible. In addition, the majority of the Bitcoin mining calls for no team, returns very little bit in taxes to the Icelandic individuals, and isn't rewarding to the country. Truth future and legacy of Bitcoin isn't in the individual coin value, however the underlying blockchain technology. One of the most renowned cryptocurrency besides bitcoin could be Ether, which is intended much less as a currency than as a platform for decentralized, algorithmically carried out "smart agreements"-- yet is still traded like a money.

As Ben shows in his video clips, a number of the ideas left by ancient realms, like the Egyptians for instance, reveal evidence of sophisticated devices and also modern technology that chroniclers formerly had not assumed feasible in those times. If you look past the hype, name changes, stock adjustment, as well as the laughably odd recommended applications of blockchain, you discover an innovation with deeply fascinating qualifications for lasting adjustment. Read more to discover exactly how bitcoin transactions are processed as well as just how bitcoins are mined, what it can be utilized for, along with how you can buy, market and also save your bitcoin. Even more vendors now approve bitcoin for products as well as services than ever, yet it is still a portion of those accepting regular settlements. The listing of Bitcoin Future agreements on these exchanges has actually improved the legitimacy of bitcoin and also made it more widely available. One of the most intriguing attribute of these exchanges for us is that the difference in bitcoins costs gets to 10-20%. And also on MTGox the rate, generally, is higher, than on BTC-e. Blockchain is, at this factor, a buzzword.

China is, for that reason, the largest miner of bitcoin, along with the world's biggest merchant of cryptocurrency. That title belongs to China. China has an enormous amount of electric result and also because of this is residence to numerous of the largest worldwide mining swimming pools. Inexpensive power does not necessitate bitcoin mining dominance, either. What is clear, nevertheless, is that taking a look at a graph does not make the picture much easier to recognize. Right here are 4 core qualities that make it one-of-a-kind. We're appreciative for all it's done, and we're delighted to see where whatever goes from below. See our associate disclosure. We earn payment if you purchase items making use of an associate web link. Not just this, a substantial variety of freelance workers saw excellent hope in using this digital currency system, which would certainly conserve them from greater transaction costs and also several various other problems that they might have encountered or else. No matter, there's no reason to allow proXPN (or any type of other VPN) gain access to your phone calls, track your every footstep and also write to your SD card when its limited number of servers can't also obtain you to stream Netflix.

In the very early stages of bitcoin adoption that we remain in now, bitcoin only has a very minimal usage as a circulating medium, specifically when you compare it to the buck or the euro. Similar to BTC, the NMC supply is restricted to 21 million, and also presently there's a flowing supply of 14,736,400 NMC in presence. In combination, Bitcoin is slow-moving to process settlements, processing a theoretical optimum of seven purchases per second (contrasted to routine banking systems like Visa that refines thousands every second). And also moreover, mean you do not intend to depend on a 3rd party like a bank. Other nations, would intend to relocate away from the United States as well as their monetary policies, and being connected to a particular financial system or law. In our traditional monetary system, laws and regulatory authorities supervise personal privacy along with access to the financial system. The Bitcoin requirement was broken in two, with the initial system untouched and also the brand-new Bitcoin Cash money requirement included. Eco-friendly's wallet announces a 1 bitcoin payment to Red's wallet. So bitcoin is a currency as well as a product?

[adventk-blog]

                                             — ARE YOU WHO YOU WANT TO BE,

       introducing CHA HAKYEON, a MUTANT, under the moniker of N — and currently a believer of NEUTRALITY. age ( twenty-six ) and gifted with the ability of PSYCHIC ENERGY MANIPULATION, they are currently working as a REFERENCE LIBRARIAN.

WE ARE SO MUCH MORE THAN STORIES,

If you were to ask Hakyeon about a family, he can sometimes visualize a figure of a woman. A shadow – dark like she’s silhouetted against the sun, but warmth radiating and a low hum of a song he cannot quite remember. It hangs around the edges of his memories like wisps of smoke, if he reached out it would have slipped right through his fingers. It’s the closest thing he could recall to memories before The Compound.

The first thing he does clearly remember is white.

White walls, white ceiling, white mattress with white bedsheets, a white door that was always locked.

The Compound held six children, including him, noted by the scientists in serial numbers: N63090, S51288, T111190, B11089, W21490, D91191. He knew himself as N63090, dressed in white scrubs and socks standing in cold rooms with two way mirrors. Too young to know anything was wrong with living like this. Too young to be strapped down to tables with electrodes stuck to his temples, slipping in and out of anesthetic laced sleep as they cut through his skull and into his brain.

The rigid pattern of days was a never ending cycle of brief moments of freedom in between hours of education, evaluations, and additional testing. If there was life outside of these walls, N would only see it through the barred windows with panels of frosted glass. The closest form of comfort he has was Dr. Kwon, an aging woman with deep set lines in her face and hair streaked with gray, who gave N books to read in the many hours he spent confined.

They were all special, Dr. Kwon was the only one who told him that. Their genetics, their bone marrow, their blood, their minds, every piece of them was special. The labs drawn, the stress tests, the MRIs and CAT scans were all proof. N never felt special, never felt much of anything besides a crushing feeling of detachment. His escape was books as many as he could get his hands on to fill the void of silence.

For all the words told to him about being special, N was an anomaly. Five other children’s gifts were found. He could see W with lightning dancing between his fingertips and B speak languages that he should have never known. T lift her spoon off the table, dangling midair. While N? Did nothing.

He spent more time on the examination table and in the tight confines of MRIs. They talked above him – about him, but never to him until Dr. Kwon would find him strapped to a hospital bed staring at white lights. She gently smoothed his bangs back and told him he was special, but it was different than the others.

The Compound could only hold them for so long – at some point, someone would snap. When they realized they were more powerful than the scientists who kept sliding needles into their veins or prying open their skulls again. It took one last medical procedure without anesthetic for W to snap – electrical systems blew, fire burst from generators, and smoke filled the compound. The opening opportunity sent others into a frenzy to get out – to escape.

The night is hazy in smoke and fire, but N pounded his fists on his locked door and screamed for help as other scientists ran by. He was saved when Dr. Kwon opened the locks and pulled him out into a smoky hallway, running him towards an exit he never saw open before. He could hear yelling mixed into the sounds of electric buzzing and the snap of fire. The white panels of ceiling tile were beginning to rain down on their head as D wanted to shake the building to the ground. A piece of tile hit Dr. Kwon, cracking a gash into her head and running down pale skin in a rush of crimson.

N wanted to protect her. He wanted to protect himself. He brought his hands up to block their heads as they stumbled towards the exit, trying to avoid the ceiling caving in on them. It wasn’t until he looked up that he realized nothing was hitting them, instead it was bouncing off a bubble of energy N had placed around them. N could only hold it for so long, stumbling out into the cool air of the outside world for the first time in sixteen years. Dr. Kwon was there to catch him when he fell, exhausted into her arms.

When he awoke, Dr. Kwon had driven them towards the nearest big city, Busan. She spoke calmly, like she always did, that she would find him an identity and that they wouldn’t find him again. She kept that promise, reaching to underground channels in forging them both new identities.

He had a name now: Cha Hakyeon.

Dr. Kwon left two months after getting him settled in a small, one room apartment with his forged identity, a bank account in his name, and enrolled in a school nearest his place. It wasn’t safe for her to be with him. She would fund his life, but he never saw her again after she walked out. Hakyeon wasn’t ready for school or living life outside the rigid confines of the compound on his own. Every day was a struggle, Hakyeon was withdrawn, fidgety, and anxious around the crowds of students. It was an act of forcing himself into a community he never had experience in and he failed at it. He was labeled strange by other students, who took care to avoid the boy. However, he was intelligent and excelled at studies, allowing him to receive an offer from Seoul for a university program.

University helped him flourish, helped him steady himself as he hid in his own rooms to develop his powers. He was able to function like a regular person, pretend that he could have normal conversations with other students. He felt normal for the first time in his life when he graduated and got a job as the reference librarian at the library nearest his home in Incheon. All he wants now is to normal, live free of the horrors of the compound that still are etched into his skin. However, you cannot outrun your own self.

THERE IS FLESH AND BLOOD BEHIND THESE TALES,

MBTI: ISFJ

4 Temperaments: Choleric

Alignment: Neutral Good

(+) Straightforward, patient, protective, dependable, observant, soft-spoken.

(-) Moody, suspicious, self-depreciating, repressed, rigid, critical.

AND EVEN MONSTERS CAN LEARN TO WEEP.

PSYCHIC ENERGY MANIPULATION: Hakyeon can create, shape and manipulate his own or other psychic energy in various ways, including manifesting in various shapes in material forms. All damage done by psychic energy is mental, which could be as minimal as being disoriented to the severity of brain damage.

         APPLICATIONS :

PSYCHIC ATTACKS: Hakyeon can release/use psychic energy as attacks of various shapes and/or intensities. These can be in the form of waves of visible psychic energy or psychic energy bolts.

PSYCHIC CONSTRUCTS: Hakyeon can change psychic energy into tools, objects, weapons and other items.

PSYCHIC FORCE FIELD GENERATION: Hakyeon can create force-fields of psychic energy, either around himself or to a wide radius around an area.

PSYCHIC ENERGY ABSORPTION: Hakyeon absorb the psychic energy from another individual into his body and use it to expand his reserve of psychic energy for strengthened abilities.

        LIMITATIONS :

General limitations:

If an individual has a psychic shield or any sort of immunity, they would not be affected by Hakyeon’s abilities.

Psychic energy cannot be created as an energy source itself. Hakyeon has to use his own existing psychic energy, which is a finite source.

With reliance on mental resilience, overuse of the power can lead to migraines, unconsciousness, coma or even death.

Loss of control can have destructive properties to any individual within the area, not just the target of powers.

PSYCHIC ATTACKS:

Unless channelled by Hakyeon, the psychic energy can be unrefined and indiscriminate in damage.

Concentration is required by Hakyeon to shape the psychic energy. Any lapse in concentration will cause the energy to dissipate.

PSYCHIC CONSTRUCTS:

Structural strength of any item made by psychic energy is limited to Hakyeon’s mental fortitude.

Limited creation of constructs to very simplistic weaponry or tools. For example, Hakyeon could create a knife, but he wouldn’t be able to create a gun that shoots due to the intricacy.

PSYCHIC FORCE FIELD GENERATION:

Shields’ strength and duration depend on time, mental fortitude, and how much damage done to the shield.

The shield can only extend to 47" wide and 72" in height. Stretching this to max capacity weakens the amount of force the shield can hold against.

Hakyeon can hold the force field for, at maximum, 15 minutes with similar diminishing returns in capacity of force.

PSYCHIC ABSORPTION:

Range is limited to only being able to absorb from those he can have skin to skin contact with.

Is limited to how much he can absorb as overloading on psychic energy can cause his own incapacitation or death.

THREAT LEVEL TWO.                           02+ BRWN, 06+ RSLNC, 06+ INTLCT, 06+ WLLPWR, 01+ FGHTNG, 03+ SPD

[lady-divine-writes]

Coldflash one-shot - “Unusual Bedfellows” (Rated NC17)

Len doesn't think that the man he's let into his Buick is a professional, but he seems eager enough to please. Their arrangement's simple - first, Len gets what he wants, then this man gets something in return. (2068 words)

Warning for implied sex work and sexual content.

Read on AO3.

“Hey. You looking for some company?”

Len peers up from his cell phone at the man talking through the rolled-up window of his blue Buick Regal. It’s not the most stylish car Len’s ever boosted, but it does the job. It’s low profile, meant to keep him under the radar. Several patrol cars have passed him by already without their drivers looking too concerned, and some foot traffic, too.

But it didn’t seem to work on this man.

“Possibly,” Len says. “You a cop?”

“Nah.” The man smiles bashfully. “Just a college student, trying to get by.”

“Yeah, I guess with that baby face of yours, you couldn’t be a cop, could you?”

“Exactly.” The man chuckles. It’s light, natural, flirty. “So, uh, why don’t you let me in? It’s gettin’ kinda cold out here.” The man wraps his arms around his torso and shivers to emphasize his point. Len glances past him at the trees behind him. None of their branches sway, none of their leaves flutter.

Len shrugs. “Sure.” He leans across the passenger seat and unlocks the door. “Why not?”

“Great,” the man says, that giant smile of his ever a fixture on his face. Men must like that about him. His cheerfulness. His youthful exuberance.

It gives a man the impression that he’s eager to please.

“So …” Len watches the man slip into the passenger seat and settle in “… what did you have in mind?”

“I guess that depends on you.” The man turns his body Len’s way, staring at him beneath long lashes. “I need something, and you need something. I’ll give you what you need if you give me what I need.”

“Really?” Len’s sarcastic, but the man’s eyes go dark.

“Really. Just tell me what to do,” he says, looking older, more dangerous, when those words rolls off his tongue, hot like moonshine.

Len’s grin burns slow, curls sinisterly up his cheeks. He might just have to snag a taste for himself and see how hot this man truly is.

“Well, why don’t we start here,” Len suggests, unzipping his pants, forgoing this man’s tempting mouth on his own to feel it somewhere else, where the tingle from his moonshine tongue might be more potent.

The man looks down when he hears Len’s fly unzip. He smiles as he leans forward and removes Len’s hands. “Allow me,” he says, pulling Len’s zip the rest of the way down and reaching a cool hand inside. Len sucks in a breath at the contact - this man’s chill skin against Len’s cock. Len peeks out the window and sees the trees shudder. He laughs once. Maybe it is colder outside than he thought.

That’s the last thing Len notices outside the car when he feels the man’s mouth encircle the head of his cock, a silky warm tongue taking an experimental lick around the top. Len detects a slight hesitation on the part of the man whose lips suckle just the head. Must not be a pro, Len thinks with a hint of sympathy. Man, he must really be desperate then. Len remembers the things he used to do in his youth to get by; things he never told anybody about.

Things he’d rather not remember.

To that end, Len considers grabbing the guy’s head and shoving down, give him direction, but he can’t. The man has started moving now, testing, tasting, and his mouth is just too sweet. Len moans subconsciously, and that seems to be all this man needs to hear. He sucks in and swallows Len’s cock whole, quickly, unexpectedly, and Len moans again louder – foolishly loud since he’s sure anyone nearby can hear him.

Len pushes his seat back. It doesn’t give the man too much more room than he had before, but the room he does have, he’s making the most of. Forget what Len thought before about this man not being a pro. He either is, or he just needed to find his groove, because compared to what Len’s had in the past few decades, this man’s a motherfucking expert. He seems to know Len, exactly what he likes. He bobs steadily, almost too fast, but Len doesn’t mind. This man and his mouth are utter perfection, the right amount of heat with just a touch of bite, speed and friction combining to create build up, but not going too far, not going overboard. And his tongue … it’s like a machine – tirelessly lapping, curling and stroking.

Len grabs a fistful of the man’s hair. He bucks up and the man chokes, scratching at the denim to Len’s jeans, but he chases Len’s erection as it slides from his mouth.

“Oh, Jesus,” Len groans. He slaps his hand on the door panel, finding it hard to think or care about anything while this man holds his thighs down and sucks him off. Ten minutes may have gone by so far, possibly an hour. Len doesn’t know, and that’s out of character for him. He doesn’t like to lose himself, or put himself in a position where he can get caught off guard, but right now he doesn’t care. He’s close. So close. He wishes the man would slow down a bit. He’s gone from bashful schoolboy to man with a vendetta in breakneck speed. Len opens his mouth to say so but he can’t. He’s riding the crest of a wave that’s lifting him higher and higher than he thought possible. He might actually be leaving his body. That’s the only way he can explain the dizziness, the euphoria, the heat growing in his stomach, building in his chest, crackling and burning like a ball of lightning.

The man’s hands leave Len’s thighs and crawl up his chest, searching out his nipples, his neck, his lips – anything he can touch that will connect him. An index finger slips past Len’s lips and he sucks. He feels the man hum. Len sucks harder and the man gasps, his mouth popping open so he can take a breath.

“Oh, God,” Len moans. “Oh, Christ … oh, God …” those moans altogether the most Len’s prayed since he was about six. He doesn’t warn the man that he’s about to cum, which he’ll admit is bad form on his part, even if this guy is a sex worker, but when he does cum, the man doesn’t pull away. He sinks down Len’s member, struggling to swallow, then takes another breath. No, this one’s a sigh, filled with an almost palpable mixture of relief and resignation.

That’s the difference between doing something like this because you want to and because you have to.

Though, for a moment there, Len could almost swear the man wanted to.

The man lifts his head and licks his lips, slick and ruby red even in this non-existent light.

“How was that?” the man pants. He smiles wide, eyes bright, desperate for Len’s approval.

“That was … nice,” Len says, tucking back into his jeans and zipping up. “Very nice … as always, Barry.”

Barry swallows hard, his eager smile turning into a grimace. He raises an arm and wipes his mouth on his sleeve. Len watches, eyes growing cold as Barry’s burn hot, but not with lust.

With disgust.

“So,” Barry says, grave, “where is it?”

Len smirks. He debates not telling him, holding out for a second orgasm, maybe this time in Barry’s ass. God, he’s wanted to pound into this kid since the first time Barry thwarted him. But Len doesn’t want Barry to know just how much he wants it. That would give Barry power, and Barry doesn’t need any more power over Len than he already wields, whether he knows it or not. “It’s in a warehouse on 83rd. Deep underground. About 17 floors.”

Barry nods. “Security systems? Guards? Meta-humans?”

“All three.”

“Anything else?”

Len leans forward, wondering how close Barry would let him get.

Wondering what Barry would do if Len kissed him.

But from the lightning sparking in Barry’s determined eyes, Len knows that tonight’s not the night to find out.

“You’re welcome,” Len says, reclining back in the driver’s seat.

“You know, I’m not going to keep pumping you for information this way. Eventually we’re going to come up with a different … arrangement.”

“Yeah, well, just remember … you’re the one who started this, Flash.”

Barry glowers. The lightning in his eyes reflects off the windows of the Buick, throwing demonic shadows all around.

Yes, Barry started this. He wasn’t denying that. He had a good reason.

It was Barry’s last ditch effort to keep Len out of his hair … and, for the most part, out of trouble.

Len refused to leave Central City. Downright refused, even after his usual one heist window had long passed. Barry thought it was because Len loved being the biggest burr in Barry’s boot, but Barry discovered it was because of Lisa. Len didn’t want to drag Lisa around the way his father had him. He wanted to give her something close to a normal life, even if the two of them were still robbing armored cars and blowing up bank vaults.

After Team Flash saved Lisa’s life, Len decided that Central City was the best place for her, knowing that Barry would have her back, even if reluctantly, just like he had everyone else’s.

Though Barry seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time and energy keeping tabs on the Snarts.

Barry offered Len a compromise – he would stay off Len’s back if Len would be willing to act as his eyes in the underground. Barry knew that Len could go places Barry couldn’t, find out information that even Barry’s team, with all of their advanced tech, couldn’t unearth.

Realizing this was his best opportunity to keep his sister safe, Len had said it sounded good to him, but he needed incentive. He’d wanted total immunity for everything he’d done in the past … and anything he might do in the future. Addiction was in his blood, he’d argued. His father was an alcoholic, after all. Len couldn’t 100% guarantee that he wouldn’t fall off the wagon, not while being a snitch. What if he had to prove to the dark underbelly’s lowest that he was still on the down and down? He’d need to know he could do so with impunity.

Barry didn’t buy it. He refused to trust Snart to that extent, not after the last time Len burned him. Barry couldn’t hand Len a ticket to cause anarchy just because he got bored.

After a lot of back and forth, a lot of tiresome negotiation, they’d settled on this. It was accidental, spur of the moment, after a comment Len had made about the stress of the job, and now turning traitor, putting a damper on his social life.

For every piece of information he gathers for Barry and his crew, Len gets the dream blow of his choosing.

Turning goodie-two-shoes Barry Allen into his own private whore was just too good an offer to pass up. It was something he couldn’t steal, something he couldn’t buy with all the money in the world.

It was a handshake routine. Barry refused to put anything down on paper. He didn’t need anyone on his team knowing how he got his intel.

Len didn’t expect much from Barry at first other than a lot of sarcastic jabs, eye rolling and gagging, but as it turned out, Barry was too, too good at it. At all of it – the play acting and giving head.

Barry had to be. He needed to keep Len on his side. He needed to be able to take Len at his word, and ensure he would keep it.

So Barry followed along, shoved down revulsion, and put his heart into it.

But that doesn’t mean he has to put up with Leonard Snart’s superiority complex.

“Fuck you, Snart!” Barry spits. He leaps out of the car and zips away, leaving the passenger door hanging wide open, the whole care shaking from the force of his retreat.

“Someday.” Len pulls the door shut. “Someday you will.” He starts the car, and as he drives away, he puts his brain to work, trying to come up with the one thing he could dangle in front of Barry Allen’s nose that might make that happen.