#so i put them in my pig cage to see if they would get along and the rest is history ❤️

[mirkwood-trash]

Hi. I have 2 more guinea pigs lol. Odette (abyssinian) and Marzipan (crested silkie)

[bluepotion85]

The Golden Ratio - Chapter 10

(The following story contains male weight gain, food play, BDSM, kidnap, encouragement, and feeder/feedee scenarios. If that's not for you, then go to church or something vanilla dude.

This takes place during and after the events of the One-Piece film GOLD. For a better experience see the film on your local streaming service.

This story is written in collaboration with @bee-wg)

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Tesoro

The fun had to end eventually. But of all times, those celestial bastards had to show up now?

“Get everyone ready Tanaka. I'll meet you at the harbor,” I said before closing the door with a slam.

I could hear him giving orders outside my quarters as I climbed the stairs back to my room. 

My feet freeze in front of the door to my bedroom, I collect myself to give Zoro a proper act. 

When I reenter the room he is still on the bed pigging out on our last order of fast food.

“What was it?” he asked.

“It was a stupid report. Nothing to worry about.” I reply before heading to the bathroom.

I planned on making a distraction to keep Zoro busy while those pieces of shit were on the ship. But we stayed here for too long, and I didn't have the time to make any preparations for their arrival. 

“Are you going out?” he asked.

“Yes, I feel like taking a walk.” 

When the Celestial Dragons come, we make a private path for them. Areas of the ship they would go to are evacuated in advance just to ensure they don't injure, enslave, or downright kill the other guests. 

If not, they would run wild here, making everyone run out of the ship as soon as they load on the bay. It's the worst way to kill business.

Zoro looks at me inquisitively as I put my clothes on. 

“You don't want me to come with you?” he asked.

Those monsters would pick anyone here and sink them in hell. My guests, my workers, even my pet, I can't let them go out of here all joyful, dragging my property with them. 

I can't let Zoro near them.

“You want to walk on your own?” I reply.

“No, but it's weird for you not to drag me along. Even for this.”

“Congratulations, you can stay in and eat until I come back.”

If I leave them waiting on the bay, they will get frustrated and rain fire on all of us. I have to get to the bay and welcome them without raising suspicion. 

“You’re trying to go check on the ship right? You have to relax, they can work on their own,” he asked.

He won't understand, he is too reckless and stupid to get it. I don't have time for this.

“It's just a walk, Roronoa,” I said with a sign.

“I’ll be back soon. So don't try to leave the quarters without me, or I will send you to the cage.”

His expression relaxes, and a smug grin appears on his face as he replies:

“Yeah sure, you are all bark and no bite. You know you can't get enough of me.”

The cocky bastard choose now to defy me? Even if he is right, I can't let him run around the ship with them around.

“Don't forget yourself Roronoa. I have gotten bored of all my pets in the past. I’ll get bored of you as well, especially if you disobey me.”

The air of confidence never leaves his face as he plops on the bed.

“Have fun on your walk, could you get more food on your way back, we ran out of nachos again,” he said.

“I will.”

Closing the door behind me, I ran to the garage and got into one of my turtle cars. Speeding my way through the ship towards the loading bay.

They always wait for me to welcome them into the ship before setting foot in. It's their miserable way of showing dominance, expecting the king of this island to stop everything for them.

As soon as I enter the bay, their ship is visible. The head of security sees me approaching and sighs with relief. The CP zero agents are standing in line to receive the celestial dragons. 

“Just in time, I ran out of excuses for them to wait,” said the head of security.

“Thanks, now let’s make this quick,” I replied.

From within the ship emerges the celestial dragon, and I feel my blood freeze in my veins. Of all the possible bastards to show up, it had to be Camael. 

He is responsible for the scar on my back. It covers the disgusting branding of the celestial dragons. He is riding a panda with a massive seat strap to his back. His stupid smile twitches under a long dark nose. 

Behind him comes his two concubines and a slave girl chained by the neck. 

“Welcome to the Gran Tesoro,” I said while acid made its way up my throat. 

The concubines frown at me as if they were ready to cut me up. Camael stares at me, as if studying my very core. I escaped the celestial dragon's grasp years ago. I was thinner, frail and scared. Even if my appearance has changed, I can’t deny that whenever his eyes lay on me I fear he will recognize me.  

“You know how disrespectful it is to make a Celestial Dragon wait, Tesoro?” said Camael with a smile.

Safe for now, but I need to get away from them as soon as possible.

I'm sorry for the inconvenience, sir. I hope you can find a way to forgive my tardiness,” I said.

“We waited long enough already, take us to our room. I want to relax and go to the slots,” said Camel.

“Yes, sir,” I replied. 

The CP zero members get the signal and move to escort them into their rooms. For a moment I think this useless banter is over, until Camael turns around and says:

“Won't you come? Tesoro.”

Damn them all! He is just mocking me. Fine, at least I can make sure they stick to the path we set. All I hope is for Zoro to stick to his lazy pig behaviour and stay in bed for now. 

“Of course, I'm on my way.” 

The path leading up to their rooms is a marble hallway with golden pillars, ceilings, and floors. The walls are filled with treasures and decorations from all over the world.

We advance through the hallway, nobody muttering a sound. 

“This place looks cheaper than the last time we came. Are the walls plain grey?” Camael said, breaking the silence.

His concubines nod to the remark while he looks back at me.

The Celestial Dragons easily accepted this route to avoid rubbing shoulders with the “human scum,” but that doesn't mean they go without nagging. We are at the biggest entertainment center in the world, but they complain about the wall’s color. 

Everyone’s faces are pale as he points to every mistake in sight. His laugh goes louder; all I want is for this miserable walk to end.

I can feel myself going insane with each stupid nag, but we are a few meters from their quarters, and I let my inner scream go unheard. 

Camael suddenly stops in his tracks, getting his eyes on one of the glass encasings at the wall.

“What is this this?” he asked.

Inside the display rests a delicate porcelain base courtesy of the Alabasta kingdom. 

My blood froze at the realization. The Celestial Dragons have a long-lasting grudge against the Alabasta royal family, if not the entire country. Camael could see this as an act of mockery. 

My tongue runs dry as I think of what to reply. I could lie, besides that Camael is an ignorant swine. Maybe he won’t notice.

The lie never goes out of my mouth since Camael pushed the encasing over before I had time to react. Everyone in the hallway is silent as the antiquity crashes on the floor.

“How lowly of this place to display fake trash on my path. I thought you had more class than this, Tesoro.” Camael says.

I must look terrified from the stupid smile he sports. I grip my hands and smile, trying to hide the turmoil.

“It's a shame, it looked real to me,” a CP agents murmured behind me.

“huh?” Camael looks back.

“I'm truly sorry, Sir Camael,” I said with a strained smile. 

Camael attention stays on me, he grins before fishing out a gun from his clothes. My heart race and all I can do is continue to talk.

“We weren't aware the base was a fake, I’ll personally-” 

A shot crosses through the hallway. The smoke from Camael’s gun still lingers as I feel a drip of blood run down my arm. Then, a loud thud comes from behind me, I turn around and see the CP agent lying in a pool of blood.

“Enough of this. I need to recover from all of this disgusting trash,” Camael says as he enters his quarters, followed by his group.

---

I made it back to my car and got the muscle turtles going. 

As I sat there, my mind wandered back to the image of that CP agent. His body dying on the floor burns bright and raw in my head.

It could have been me. 

No, I’m the richest man on the seven seas, king of my own golden city. The only reason that idiot got killed was out of his own actions, fools should know how to act in front of those monsters. And yet-

I know, It could have been me. 

Isn’t that the fucking wildest thing? 

Years of work.

Sacrifice after sacrifice to build this empire.

Countless lives have been taken to forge my world. And for what? For a couple of imbeciles to put an Alabasta base in the fucking hallway?!

For those ignorant swine to shoot me in my territory and let me bleed like an animal?!

My hands grip the steering wheel, and I feel my powers make every golden piece in the car vibrate. The muscle turtles shake in fear as the car trembles, and my grip around the steering wheel tightens so hard that the metal bends under my skin.  

If I stay here any longer, I will rip the damn thing off the dashboard. So, while grinding my teeth, I get the car going. 

As I speed my way through the city, my mind runs through all the things that lead up to this. Everyone on this ship is useless, so I should have been there days ago. Making sure they didn't ruin everything and get me killed for no reason. 

Instead, I've let Roronoa dig himself into my quarters.

Allowing my ungrateful pet to consume all of my time. 

And for what? To ruin everything I have worked for?!

I won't let a pet be the end of me. I’m Gild Tesoro for fuck sake. I will make him and everyone involved pay.

Tomorrow I’ll execute him.

Finally I made it to my bedroom, pushing the gold plated doors with enough force to make them rattle against the walls of the room.

The sudden boom makes Zoro turn to me from the bed. The miserable fatass was still laying on the bed, eating in the same position I left him this morning. Only now, there are more discarded boxes and bags of takeouts covering the floor of my bedroom. As he struggles to sit down and look at me, I shout.

“Everything is your fault!” 

“I almost got shot! SHOT!”

“I can’t believe I almost died!”

“And for a fucking base? I’ll never go to Alabasta again!”

“And I’m wearing these hideous shoes, how could I go out like this?!” 

“Was the walk that bad?” Zoro said. 

He nods beside him, signalling me to sit on the bed. I sigh and get in place.

“My day is ruined,” I said.

“What happened?” He asked.

“A celestial dragon is staying in the ship, he shoot a CP agent right behind me and almost killed me,”

I grip the bridge of my nose, covering my face from the embarrassment this is. 

“After all this time, I'm still one bad word away from an early grave. And all courtesy of those monsters,”

“I saw them doing stuff like this before,” he said.

My sight is still on the mattress when I see him push a chocolate bar towards me. 

“Eat something. It might help,” he added.

I look up to him; his face has the same nonchalant expression as always. He takes a bite of a chocolate bar of his own.

I have dedicated my life to avoid the suffering the celestial dragons put me and Stella under. And in that path I have lost so much, and all of that just to be face to face with death again.

No matter how much I try to cover myself in riches, as long as those bastards rule the world I will be mice running from the cat.

So, why not make the most of the run while it lasts? 

Grabbing the chocolate bar from Zoro’s hand I take one last sigh, bite into the sweet and make up my mind. 

I'm done with all of this.

------------------------------------

Zoro

After Tesoro explained the situation he had just faced with the celestial dragons, I could only offer a chocolate bar. 

Now he sits beside me, eating a chocolate bar and looking less miserable. 

If sweets can't calm him down, nothing will. But why do I even care if he calms down or not?

This bastard kidnapped me, stripped me of my swords, and kept me as a lowly pet for months. If Tesoro is stressed, serve him right after swearing his loyalty to those monsters.

When he finishes the treat, my anger still rolls around in the pit of my stomach. He looks at me with a pained look in his eyes. 

“I'm sorry for shouting at you,” He said.

Of all the things he could say, that’s the one thing I wasn't expecting. This is the first time he felt the need to apologize. 

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied.

He nods and shifts back in bed, looking up to the roof, and I question if the man in front of me is the same bastard with the shit-eating smile and inflated ego who got me trapped months ago. 

It doesn't help that Tesoro's current state is in dire contrast to the one I've been hanging out with for the last few days. My new ability kept Tesoro calm and agreeable; he would just laugh carelessly as we watched TV and ate through the days.

I got used to our new routine and his more flexible personality. That may be why my stomach twists a bit, looking at him like this. All deflated as if he was hit with the power of that ghost girl from thriller bark. Just remembering her devil fruit power makes me feel miserable.

Beside me is a pile of food I got delivered minutes before he arrived. I planned to eat this as a snack before dinner, but I could give it to him. 

He defeatedly sighed, and I pulled a marshmallow brochette from the food hill. Dipping the whole thing in chocolate, I pass it to him; this should cheer up his moody ass. The hard-shelled sweet looked so appetizing I could almost taste it. 

“Here, I ordered some food before you came back. We could get started on dinner,” I said, my mouth watering at the snack.

He looks at me, his attention shifting to the sweet, and he takes it without much discussion. 

"I'm not a big fan of sweets," He said

"Then I'll have it back, you fucker," I said, pulling back.

He ignored me, and absent-mindedly bit the marshmallow. Each small bite eased up his mood. Still, he remains with a lost gaze, he needs to get that mind busy with something else.

Getting to a nearby bookshelf, I picked a random book tossed to him.

"Ouch, what the fuck?” He said.

“You can read for me,” I replied, returning to bed.

"Why don't you read it your- oh, right." He said.

He looks at the book cover and back at me.

"I'll read it just because you ask," he added.

Placing myself beside him in bed I move the little feast of snacks between us.

“I remember reading this book years ago; everyone in the North Blue knows about it. I never found it that interesting, but if you want to give it a shot, be my guest.” He said.

Tesoro opened the book and started reading the story of Nolan. He wouldn't eat while holding the book, so I helped him by bringing some food to his mouth as he continued. 

For a moment, we are back to how things were before this evening: me cutting him up to explain what happened on Skypiea and how it related to the story and him laughing at how foolish we were. 

“I would have stayed and ruled them as god instead of coming down here,” Tesoro said.

He took a bite of the chocolate from the pile and continued.

“We have enough problems here, but the sky islands are uncharted territory. I could do whatever I wanted as a god. A shame Enel was an idiot,” he said, stuffing the rest of the chocolate bar.

“What the hell is your problem?” I said.

“What?” realizing he said something wrong, the dumbass took another handful of chocolate to his mouth to shut himself up.

Before we realized it, Tesoro had finished the story and the food. Stifling a burp, I walked back to the bookshelf. All the books looked the same, so I threw another one onto his lap.

He looked at me with curiosity before stretching and inspecting the new book. 

“Ready for another one?” I asked.

“Is this going to be your new thing?” Tesoro asked me back.

“Maybe,” I replied with a shrug.

My belly roared angrily, and I was looking for a proper dinner. So, before returning to bed, I went to the phone to place another order. 

Despite my greatest efforts, my appetite has taken more control over me, but it's hard to resist the urge to eat when food and drinks are readily available.

I still remember getting into the business of pirate hunting just to get food on the table. Of course, it allowed me to hone in my sword skills, but what drove me the most was the money to buy food and sake.

Throwing myself to bed, my head landed on Tesoro’s thigh. The heat from his leg was oddly comforting, so I stayed there and made myself comfortable. 

Tesoro arched an eyebrow at my placement, but I just shrugged it off. He made a stupid smile, but before I asked him what was so funny, he started to read the book. 

Not an hour passed when the order arrived. It's a proverbial amount of food, but most importantly, it's a whole barrel of booze. I get a good buzz out of the drinks and feel the most relaxed I've been in months.

Looking at my side, Tesoro looks just as pleased. With a distended stomach, looking tighter than I have ever seen it. His hands drift to it in a slow rub, and he stifles a low belch before grabbing his glass for a refill. 

My eyes were heavy when night came, and Tesoro’s head bobbed as he tried to stay awake, barely mumbling through lines of text. 

With a push, I roll away from him and rest my head on the pillow. He wakes up from the sudden movement and puts the book on the nightstand. My heavy eyes stay on Tesoro as he heads to the bathroom. 

I slowly drift back asleep with the relaxing sound of the running water, and Tesoro’s low humming.

When I woke up in the middle of the night, my tongue was dry. A side effect of constantly dripping juices is needing extra liquids to replenish.

Rising from the bed I notice Tesoro’s eyes are wide open.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No, I woke up not too long ago,” he said.

I stay in place as he looks at me quietly. The room is still dark, but he is covered in sweat. Most likely, he had an awful nightmare. He would feel better talking about it, but I know how to carry a burden in silence. It's not my place to intrude more than necessary. 

Instead, I get closer to him. We exchange looks and it takes him a second to realize what I had in mind. 

“Wait, now?”

We have fooled around enough to waste time on pleasantries. So I find it odd that his first reaction wasn't to go straight into action.

“Cut the crap,” I replied.

I get my legs to cradle at his sides, looking straight into his tired eyes.

“I haven't gotten off today since you came here all crushed. All I'm looking for is my fix,” I said, pushing my weight against his lap.

He sighs, and a smile spreads on his face—it's a softer look than the one I'm used to, but I decide to ignore it for now. At least he is not acting all depressed while I offer free sex.

“You have turned into a greedy and selfish pet right?” He replied with a chuckle.

“I'm a pirate, I've always been a greedy bastard,” I said with a smile.

Tesoro looked to the corner of the room, his eyes still lingering with sadness, and for some reason, it angered me more than when he acted like a cocky idiot. Thankfully, his erection was more honest than his face, so I took it as my thumbs up to move forward.

Putting myself in position I pull Tesoro’s pants off, I do with so much strength they could have ripped, but he has the money to spare a pair or two. His cock sprung with a trail of precum dripping from its tip and pooling on his stomach.

Tesoro is a freak in many aspects, from giant-like stature to his strength and that damn devil fruit power. But here in the dark of his bedroom, I can conquer him in the one way I still have. 

I get in position and slide his meat in. Lowering myself into him, I feel the maddening sensation of him filling me. Three seconds faster than last time to adjust; that's a new record. 

The entry is still the hardest part, especially in this position when gravity pulls me down, and my gut getting in the way. Hopefully I can just slip inside without problem soon.

He tries to keep a tough look, cursing under his breath and a smug smile.

“What the matter, you just got in. Ready to cum already? Don't tell me you lost stamina, geezer,” I said. 

“As if. I'm just waiting for you to get going for real. I know you can go faster,” he replied before flickering my nipples.

I let out a low groan and grit my teeth. Teasing freak, he knows my buttons too well by now.

“I will show you fast then,'' I said.

Picking up speed, I lift my body fully out, just to crash back down. I get into a rhythm that makes us both see stars. But I need more than this to get off, and I'm sure he feels the same.

“Fuck, you have gotten better at this,” he says.

“I’m the right hand of the future king of pirates, I need to keep improving no matter the challenge,” I replied confidently.

“Idiot, only you would say something like that while doing this,” he said with a laugh.

He can say all he wants, but he is like clay in my hands right now. I control the speed and strength of every movement, if he cums or not it depends on me. And regardless of what he says, I know deep down he is aware of that.

We get quiet, both enthralled at the moment; the only sounds are the clashing of our bodies, the clapping of my rolls between each other, and the occasional moan as the session runs further and further. 

My body jiggles while sweat rolls from every fold of fat, soaking him in the process. It's basically a full-body workout everytime we do sex, maybe that's why I'm lighter than anticipated. A few days ago Tesoro told me I was 510 pounds, which I can lift easily with my pinky even two years ago, so I am still pretty lean all things concerned. For a second there I thought I was actually morbidly obese. 

“I'm going to spoil you rotten, show you why this bigger body was made for me and me alone,” He added.

His hips raised from the bed with vigor, and the energy building up inside my ass only grew by the minute. It's true, I had control over Tesoro when we fooled around like this. But there is something electric whenever he tries to flip the tables on me.

My body vibrates with each move, and every fiber of my growing body feels like it's going to explode. I can sit back and relax while he makes me feel at the top of the world.

After what felt like an eternity, I could feel his dick pulsing like a fire hose. I know this feeling, he is close, but so am I. I can even feel my dick straining inside the cock cage.

Sometimes, I forget the thing is there. The folds of fat around my waist and hips have made it harder and harder to see the cock cage, much less to interact with it.

Even when Tesoro removed it to let me cum freely, I’ve been cumming from my ass more often than not. 

“Ready,” he asked.

I only nod, and he speeds up before a torrent of cum fills my insides. Thats enough to push me over the edge and my ass spasm around his dick, leaking a waterfall of ass juice as I cum.

His seed is warm and thick like always, but no matter how often it happens, this moment after the act gives me this feeling of contempt. The satisfaction of a job well fucking done.

Hands sinking into me, he pushed me off his dick but let me fall on top of him.

“Oof You are heavier than you look Zoro,” He said with a huff of air.

“Shut up. Let's get back to sleep; at this pace, we won't wake up in time for breakfast,” I said, closing my eyes.

My legs are aching too much to be bothered with moving and if Tesoro wants me off of him, he can always push me aside. He doesn't. So, I stay here listening to his slow breathing as we drift asleep. 

At morning, a knock on the door woke us up. I grumble under my breath, and then notice Tesoro’s face still planted to my butt, with the bed shaking slightly. I tried to stand up, but his hands grabbed me by the sides and planted me in place.

“Tesoro, let go. Did you sleep at all last night?” I asked, rubbing the sleep off my eyes.

He loses the grip on my thighs, and I move to face him. A droopy smile paints his face and I don't think I have ever seen him so relaxed. 

“I slept,” he said lazily. 

The knock on the door goes louder and the bed shakes. The door can wait, but I want to check what's rocking the bed, even when I have an idea of what it is.

Asking Tesoro to move, he rolls around and reveals a massive wet spot in the bedding. This Golden bastard has been humping the bed since yesterday, and by the size of the stain in his pants and bed, I can tell he drained himself thoroughly.

Rubbing my eyes, I hear the door knock again, so loud it feels like it's hitting behind my ears.

“He is coming!” I shout.

“Tesoro, go see what’s up. I'm going back to sleep,” I said.

Tesoro blinks at me confused until he composes himself and goes to the door. I can faintly hear the conversation, but I try to ignore it. I'm trying to sleep, damn it.

“We have work to do,” Tesoro said. 

He entered the room and sat on the bed, an air of defeat in his voice. It's the first time he has sounded so sad about the concept of going out. 

“What is it now?” I ask.

“Team Meeting, same old,” he replied tiredly.

We stay silently in bed until he sighs and moves to get ready. He is quiet for a while, but he starts to mumble under his breath as he gets dressed. 

“I’m done with this. It's such a waste of time,” he said.

“Why do I need to get out of bed anyway? For Pirates, the Marines, my workers? They are all the same. All of them are useless,” he added.

I stay in bed, just listening to Tesoros ramble. While he looks for something in the cabinet, he sees something and suddenly quiets down. He looks back towards me at bed and a small smirk forms in his face.

“Come on Zoro, get off the bed,” he said.

I don't like that smirk, whatever he is thinking is bad news. Something tells me I will find out sooner than later.

Making some momentum to get off the bed, I move to the drawer with my clothes. Before I can pull the cabinet, Tesoro’s leg gets in the way. 

“What's the great idea?” I ask.

“I was thinking, we haven't left this room in a while. Since we are going out, why not wear something more- fitted,” Tesoro said. 

Tesoro extends his hand with a set of folded clothes. I take them, and it takes me a minute to recognize them. There is no mistaking it, It's the white tailor-made three piece suit Brook bought for me.

“You told me you burned this!” I said, mortified.

“We burned so much trash, I assumed this went down the hatch. Not to mention the tailoring of that thing, the shoulders were ill fitted, it certainly belongs in the…” blah blah blah, he said.

These are the clothes I was captured in. They look tiny in my hands, and unfolding them in front of me only confirmed it.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

“What's the matter? You complained so much about the clothes I gave you before. I thought you would be happy to get these back. Come on, try them on,” he said before sitting on the bed.

What a pain in the ass. Even then, there is no point in arguing. The golden hyena won't shut up until I follow along. Maybe it was better when he was all moping.

Bending down to pull my legs inside the pants, I have to hold my breath while fighting with the mound of fat in the way. 

“Struggling already? Why not try with the shirt?” Tesoro said with a chuckle.

I would have told him to shut it, if not for me trying to hold my breath. My legs got into the hole of the pants after what felt like eternity. Not wanting to spend another minute like this I pulled the pants up. 

They go over my ankles and calves but my blood froze when a loud rip broke the silence in the room.The seams keep the side and waist of the pants ripped right through leaving a huge gap where my leg was spilling over.

Tesoro looked at me with wide eyes. We stayed there looking at the open gap on the sides of my pants. Tesoro burst into laughter when I tried to pull the pants further up and button the pants up.

“What are you trying to do?” Tesoro said between laughter.

“That's nothing, I can still fit inside this,” I said.

“Wait, wait, try the shirt before you tire yourself out,” he added.

As if I would get tired just getting dressed. I'm drenched in sweat but it's because of the shitty AC in this room, nothing else. 

I left the pants wedged between my belly overhang.

My arms pass through the sleeves of the black shirt, but when I pull the front of the shirt to close the zipper, it barely comes halfway across my belly. 

Tesoro continued to laugh, only to approach me and try to close the shirt to no avail.

“Are you sure they didn't shrink this in the washer?” I said, pulling on the shirt fabric.

“Pretty sure, buffet hunter. All of this is just yours,” he said, shaking my sides.

“Get off me, I will close this thing,” I snapped back.

Tesoro stepped back, raising his hands and sitting back on the bed. His smile was wide and filled with desire, damn, he is really enjoying this. 

I suck my gut, trying to make the zipper connect, but I can hear the seams of the bands tearing before they can get an inch closer.

My best option was to leave the shirt open, not that I care. 

Tesoro raised an eyebrow at my smug smile while I flaunted my open chest. 

“Open shirt? You really are a slut” he said. 

“Hey shut up, okay? So what if I show some skin?” I said.

“There is no issue; the more of you out there, the better. But you are missing the vest and the jacket. It would be a waste not to try them on,” he said.

“I think we had enough,” I replied, kicking the tattered clothes and looking for something else to wear.

“Come on, don't tell me you didn't like it,” Tesoro said, closing in on me.

“As a matter of fact, no. Who would like to not fit in their pants?” I replied, anger seeping into my face.

“For all the food you eat, I would assume you do. And this here doesn't lie,” Tesoro said, leaning his body behind me and reaching under my belly to my penis.

In the moment's embarrassment, I ignore the heat in my lower body. Why was this getting me hard?

His hands explore my sides, and his breath is close to my ear. I have to suppress a moan as my face flushes with embarrassment and lust. 

My body is a mess, it craves all of these things. Why did I have to meet that bastard, and Why does he like this? I bet he wouldn't like carrying all this useless fat.

That spurts the idea in my head. 

I noticed something else. 

Tesoro's beginner belly against my back. Normally, I wouldn't notice such a thing, but this time it intrigued me. Like earlier, when he was out of bed, it jiggled from the vibrations; even his tits were plumper. Maybe he's like me after all.

Thinking back on it, I should have noticed. After days of nonstop binges and TV, there were signs. But I was too busy using my new skill, making sure Tesoro wouldn't drag me around the ship for some useless task. 

He is so agreeable after getting a taste of me, I even played with some suggestions while and upped his appetite to match mine. 

Eating with company is always more fun, right? 

All I wanted was to keep him busy and his head off work, but now I can feel the results of those binges. And while he enjoys exploring my body, the idea spurts in my head.

If I'm going down like this, I'm taking you down with me, Tesoro.

“Okay, you had your fun now. Let's get this over with,” I said, breaking away from him.

“Since when do you hurry for work?” Tesoro asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can return and order lunch,” I replied.

I could see the most subtle of smiles from him, almost as if he was trying to hide it. It was weird coming from the guy who laughs at the top of his lungs daily.

“Okay then, let's get going,” he said. 

After putting on some pants, Tesoro moved to the door leading out of the quarters, but stopped before opening it.

“Thanks for this morning,” He said.

“Why? We did the same thing as every other day,” I said. 

“You just made me feel better.” 

He turned around to look at me and gave me that smile—it's like the one from last night. So, it was not a facial exercise; he could smile without looking like a creep. 

By the time we entered Tesoro’s office, I felt more like the ship's captain than he did. 

On our way here, we encountered various types of beggar workers. They all asked where Tesoro had been and if he could help them later with their problems. 

Generally, Tesoro is more direct with his workers, dismissing requests or just dealing with them right away, but now he looks dazed. 

I didn't mind when people came asking if he would show up to fix cracks or dents in the fuselage. He would nod and agree, but something told me he wasn't even listening, but that's his business.

Then he would forget names, dates, and tasks, leaving us and whoever came asking for help in this awkward silence while he tried to remember how to be a captain.

At some point, I had to butt in and answer for him, or we would stay there for the rest of the day. He didn't complain about my help, and in his position, he had no ground for anyway.

Some of them need paperwork signed and he would absent mindedly put his name in whatever they brought. Forget reading, he was so distracted he ended up signing the head of a cook that wanted an opinion on a new dish.

The peak of idiocy was when they asked him to tend to the gold pipes in the main stage. I had to witness for a solid minute how Tesoro stayed quietly, trying too remember what they were talking about

You know, the giant golden pipes that shoot gold over the entire island. Just how much does he need me?

“You are a shitty captain,” I said laying back on the dog bed at his office. 

“I'm doing more than enough. Besides, it's like you said, they have to become more self-sufficient anyway,” he replied with a smug grin.

“Wait are you covering your ass or do you truly think today was just fine?” I asked.

“Boring meetings aside, today was great. They wanted stuff, I gave them what they wanted, and we are in time to go back to the quarters for lunch,” he replied confidently. 

The self-centered prick is that delusional. Well, I already knew he was a mess of a captain, but I mean, just where would Tesoro be without me at this point?

<< First Chapter / <Previous Chapter /

[silv3rswirls]

update since yesterday was so crazy and I would like to just get my feelings down.

I said goodbye to my silly little guy Alfredo yesterday after what was like hours of hell trying to find an emergency vet that treated piggies. My usual vet was not in office and they couldn't have done much if it was super serious anyway. had to drive out a little over an hour and within the first five minutes of being in there, everyone knew it was kinder to put him to sleep. I would've paid anything and done anything to treat him, but it wouldn't have made a difference.

I'm supposed to get his ashes delivered within the next week or so. I'm so paranoid they'll get lost and never arrive. His cagemate Bismark is sad, but he's still eating so as long as he keeps eating there are no concerns with him. Bismark knew something was wrong and laid with Alfredo the whole time until I got him to the vet. I read that guinea pigs grieve their cagemates often really hard, so I'm definitely not having fun with that information. I'm going to wait a few weeks to let him adjust before putting his cage with the babies, hopefully, I can bond them, but even if not he won't be alone. I don't want to adopt another pig to bond him with as Bismark will be five this summer, which is old for piggies and I don't want to end up with a new pig losing a cagemate again.

I don't have to work again until Friday, my boss texted me that if I needed I could take today off along with my two days off already scheduled. I'm glad I didn't have to go since I've been crying on and off all day. I learned the hard way that I cannot listen to the night we met or talking to the moon right now because I will start sobbing :')

I was home alone all day, so I just spent my time hanging out with Bismark and the babies. I've been watching Tale of the ninetailed to try and keep my mind occupied, but when I stop watching I just get sad again :(

I know with time everything will be okay, it just happened so quickly and unexpectedly that I didn't have any time to prepare. I knew they were getting old, but he really didn't show any signs of anything being wrong. It also sucks with the Holidays coming up, everyone always looks forward to coming over and seeing the piggies, so I'm sure it will be hard when Christmas Eve comes up and I have to explain to them that he's gone now.

Safe to say I will likely not be posting any writing for the rest of the month, if longer even.

I will leave ya'll with some pictures of my silly little man.

[dooksofearl]

Greetings from Dooks of Earl Ferret Sanctuary,

How have you been? What's been going on here? We are so glad you asked. (I still say we meaning me, the fuzzies, and Justin because I know he is watching over me and all these precious babies from heaven.)

We have had several of our hospice care ferrets pass on to go be with Justin. Undoubtedly, they are biting his toes and making him play endlessly. We have only had to take in 11 emergency surrenders this month which is really a low number for us this time of year. That's a good thing. The next couple of months we will get lots of calls about bunnies, chickens, ducks, and oddly, guinea pigs. However, we have already established a group of fosters and other rescues in which we trust and network with to cover the influx so that these precious ones receive the proper attention and love. We are very excited about expanding our partnerships with the other rescues and fosters. Their support helps me continue to do God's will without putting more on me than I can handle.

I currently have in my care; 107 ferrets, 2 bunnies, 1 hamster, 1 sugar glider, 1 three legged turtle, 2 cats, and a very large puppy. They are as much a blessing to me as I can be to them. Most of these ferrets have been with us for years and I expect to lose a great number of them this year. I am so grateful for the few young ones that will help me through that tremendous grief along with my cuddle bunnies.

Our Fund raising goal for this month is unfortunately steep (needed before the last day of the month) is: $1854.00. Any part of that you can help us raise would be a monumental blessing.

Normally I am able to get some grants in, even small ones, but that has not been the case this month.

That will cover:

The rescues regular bills like housing ($729) , utilities ($280 on average since our HVAC is still out), and pet foods ($488)

We also spend an average per week of $65 on produce for the vegetarian and omnivore animals.

And a total of $97 on medicines and wellness. I have managed to raise enough to cover the other bills and supplies. And of course, none of this is for me personally nor do I get paid for the work I do. It's not about me, it's about these animals and making their lives amazing for however long they have left.

Other needs that the rescue has not included in this list are:

11 small cage locking food dishes. Unfortunately many of our smaller and older ferrets have trouble with dishes that are too deep for them to just put their heads in and eat. If they have to put their paws on the side and lean in it causes discomfort for their joints.

30 bags of Pine pellets from tractor supply company. We go through a lot but it's important that everyone have a clean litterbox to use. Not only does it help me see if their bowel movements are healthy but it keeps down the risks of bacteria or parasites.

5 water bottles from rent a coop with plastic bowls.

I have created a short wishlist with links to these items on Amazon. The pine pellets I just listed tractor supply gift cards because they don't sell them through Amazon for delivery. If there was a bulk pack or other options I listed those as well.

https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/dl/invite/63ZMinE?ref_=wl_share

We also really need an extra large dog house and outdoor dog kennel (or left over fencing supplies) if anyone can by finding one used or a really good deal on one and bless us with that, we'd greatly appreciate it.

Thank you so much for sticking by us, loving us, and supporting us. You can't imagine what that means to me as I struggle with my grief from losing Justin and while I am getting treatment for my medical situation.

God bless you.

Love and prayers,

Shelly Breeden-Conner

Executive director

Dooks of Earl Ferret Sanctuary Inc

731-326-0690

Tax ID 88-0945277

Donations can be made in our app

https://www.jotform.com/app/213234930973154

Zelle and PayPal

dooksofearlferretsafehaven@gmail.com

Venmo @DooksofEarl

Cashapp $dooksofearl

Checks or money orders to

Dooks of Earl Ferret Sanctuary Inc

4826 US Highway 70 East, Brownsville TN 38012

***If you are receiving this through a post or from a friend and would like to keep getting our newsletter and updates monthly, please text me your name, email address, and say "mailing list". We won't sell or share your information.

[slasher-male-wife]

Too big: Eddie Munson x insecure chubby reader

Hey I just re mesured my body because I’m looking for clothes again and I’m super sad now. I can go on a whole rant about how I hate that people say this item is a xl but the hips are like 35 inches or they say it’s a large and the waist is 24. That’s not the point. The point is I love the idea of wearing my boyfriends clothes and this extends to my love of fictional men but the problem is I’m chubby and there is no way I can fit into some of these guy’s clothes. Clothes and my body just bring up a lot of emotions for me so this is more of a self insert that I hope other people can relate too I guess. Idk man I’m just going through it rn. 

Warnings: Negative self talk about body and weight, implied past eating disorder, strong language, kinda angst 

You wanted to be like other couples you see. Sharing clothes and swapping outfits together. You wanted to be cute together, but of course your body had to ruin everything. You shamefully slide off Eddies jeans that barely made their way past your knees. His shirt wasn’t looking good either. Your rib cage being so wide and thick, your arms being chubby and your big belly poking out of the bottom makes you feel worse. You take that off too and put on your own shirt and pants again. ‘Maybe you should stop eating like before. No one really cared last time.’ You shake away that thought and try to look away from the mirror but you can’t. You have to pick away at every flaw you can see. Your stretch marks, the way your body looks so distorted, how fat your face is. God you look like a pig. 

Tears form and you finally turn away from the mirror. You walk back out to the living room and Eddie looked excitedly over at you to see how you look in his clothes, but his joy fades when he finds you wearing your clothes. “Did they not fit?” He asks. 

“Of fucking course they didn’t fit. Eddie I tried to tell you I’m too big to look good in anything.” You sit on the couch and cross your arms wiping away the forming tears. You didn’t mean to lash out on Eddie like that but he never seems to listen when you tell him that you’re too big. 

“Y/N sweetheart I’m sorry ok? I know you hate how you look but I love it. You’re comforting to look at and to touch. I know you can handle a little rough housing with me too. You’re really hot baby. I promise.” 

“You’re just saying that Eddie. You look good in anything you wear. You can easily find cute clothes in stores and have people want you for more than sex. You don’t understand how it feels to be bigger Eddie.” You’re looking away from him now. You don’t want him looking at your tears. He goes quiet for a few moments. This always leads to break ups. You always ruin it by being too insecure and them getting fed up with all of it. You assumed it would be the same with Eddie. 

“Y/N can you sit on my lap?” He asks. You look over at him wiping tears away. He’s got a little smile on his face, his big brown eyes shining. 

“Eddie I’ll crush you. I’m over 200 pounds.” You say. 

“I don’t give a fuck I want you to sit on my lap angel.” You sigh and move yourself onto his lap. You expect a huff or at least some noise to come out about how much weight you put on him but there’s nothing. He doesn’t make any noises. “You don’t weigh too much honey. I love having you with me like this. I love being able to hold you. You adjust yourself so you can look at Eddie. He’s still got a smile on his face. “I love you Y/N. You’ve got so much to love about you baby. I don’t care how big you are, I’ll always want you.” A smile grows on your face now too. 

“I love you too Eddie. I really do.” He plants a soft kiss on your lips and begins to leave them all along your cheeks and neck. He moves back to your lips and wraps his arms around you. You wrap your arms around his neck and the two of you sit there in that sweet embrace. 

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Headlights Girl

Genre: Urban fantasy + wlw romance

Words: approx. 8k

Summary: The story of a girl with headlamps for eyes and the moth-girl she meets along the way.

My book 🌸 Ko-fi  🌸 Patreon

--------------------

Most humans carry the night with them. Even during daylight hours, they can shut out the sun, turn off the light, recede into themselves and into that soft secret place behind their eyes.

Did you know certain animals don’t have eyelids? Gecko’s have nothing between them and the violent sun which wishes to cook the colors of their world. They have to use their tongue. Dust and sand and rain, can you imagine? I was obsessed with lizards as a kid.

I stacked up books on snakes and lizards and skinks. I traced the way that sand snakes crested across the dunes, sideways and wrong. I put glue on the pads of my hand and tried to climb the walls of my room— I didn’t even get one handhold up. I went to the zoo and peered into their cages, up on my tiptoes, trying not to smudge the glass or breath too hard. I tried make out their triangle heads and slow tongue-flicks, but they each shrank away deep into nooks and crannies of their cages. Most things do when I look at them.

Most humans carry the night with them, right there behind their eyelids is an entire world of darkness. I have something else inside me, not quite, not soft, not secret. They called me “headlights girl” in the newspapers.

There were even stranger kids born in the Age of Spirits. I checked. Every morning of fifth grade, I scanned the papers for mentions of “oddities” growing into anomalies.

A boy who could breath fire. A girl with leaves sprouting from her head. A kid with antennae that could taste the wind. There are stranger things than me in the age of beasts and magic. My father called it the “Epoch of Bastards,” sons and daughters of flickering fire elementals and wind ghosts who seduced half-asleep ladies from their beds.

He didn’t look at me much growing up. And I knew what he meant. I knew what he was getting at by calling it the Epoch of Bastards. Growing up, I played in my little puddle of carpet on the floor as he blustered in and out of rooms like gale force winds. He’d be looking for his keys or a left shoe or wallet since he was going out, out, out. I think I missed him at first, in the way you miss strangers you’ve never met.

Later, still on my puddle of carpet, still on my island, I would glare at him with that sour, acid taste in the back of my throat. Acrid, smoky, I would barely blink as he passed; he’d jump when he turned too quickly and accidentally fell into my path. Later still, I would begin to wish they were both like that—blustery and calling people names, gone more often than not.

It sometimes felt better than hearing my mom weep to herself on the couch. I wish she’d do it in her room or outside or anywhere else than that theatrical sobbing in the middle of the house, a naked heartbeat to the place. She spoke to her friends on the phone in that same watery voice, handkerchief in hand and sniffling, she spoke to them more than me.

What else am I supposed to do? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. She’d wail, just a bit, and then find a new thing to wail over. They could barely afford to send me to That School. They could barely afford the special doctor’s appointments for my eyes. They barely knew what to do with me.

Sometimes, I wanted to shout right back: It’s not like I didn’t want to be here either!

But she wasn’t talking to me. 

School wasn’t much better. We weren’t the same, not really. None of us were the same age or had the same affliction. Plus, most everyone else stayed in dorms where they bonded with secrets and whispers and hiding from matrons. It wasn’t the same.

They called me The Lighthouse and Car Face and Nightlight. Sometimes they’d give me a few bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face. I did it. They’d laugh and reassure me I was as ugly as you’d think. Or beautiful. Or perfectly average-looking or I had a pig-nose or unibrow. I’d never seen anything but the blinding light of my own eyes in the mirror so I could never contradict them.

A boy with antlers handed me a twenty for a kiss in the 6th grade. I closed my eyes for that too. It was chapped and dry and he ran away with a screaming laugh afterward. There are stranger kids than me, I reminded myself. So why do I feel so much stranger than the rest of them?

I was 16 when I heel-toed my way down the stairs toward the front door. A duffel bag slung over my shoulder stuffed with loose clothes, change, a bath towel, three books with broken spines, all the tampons in the house, and a Swiss-army knife.

I hoped to stuff as many cheddar-cheese sandwiches in my sack as possible before the midnight bus came, but he was at the kitchen table. I don’t think either of us expected it, like running into your teacher at the mart and you’re both buying the same brand of toilet cleaner. There was a beer in front of his idle hands and he still wore his rumpled work shirt. He glanced at the bag on my shoulder for a long minute.

Finally, he sighed like I cut him off in traffic.

“Gimme a moment.”

My father leafed through a wad of cash he kept in a safe. He handed me almost three hundred bucks and we nodded at each other. At the time, I thought there was a kind of satisfaction to that nod, an endnote.

I was out the door before the midnight bus arrived.

Only three people were at the terminal. None of them looked at me with my pack and my knife stuffed in one hand and my eyes glowing. They did look at the glow, but not for long.

Remote and empty like maybe the world had ended and the last bits of if were nothing but strangers not making eye contact.

Finally, I watched the headlights of the midnight bus approach through dense summer night. I was struck by the thought that it was like looking at like, the glow of my eyes against its eyes. Can a bus be your father? Can your father be a man after all this time? Will your mother come looking for you?

I got on the bus and kicked my feet up against the seat in front of me. Scrunched into a ball, crossed my arms over my chest, and watched the trees turn into flickering bodies of shadow with each passing mile. ------------- My feet moved like tides. They tossed me against nameless city streets and toward empty forested slices of land. I stumbled into the painted deserts toward the west. I dipped my toes into the neon districts of the east with lights brighter than my own. I slept on benches and in kid’s treehouses and hunched my shoulders against brick walls of back alleys.

No one touched me. Maybe they’d approach now and then, but I’d open my eyes and they’d see nothing but heaven or devils or an absent lightning-God father that would smite them. I was the daughter of spirits after all.

I found my way to the ocean; beaches where other stragglers gathered and it was easy to stretch out on empty pieces of warm sand. I didn’t talk much by then, I didn’t like to; people stared whether I was speaking or screaming and clamping down on my jaw so hard it ached. Sometimes I get yelled at: Turn that off! No phone lights in here. You’re blinding me, bitch!

I’d never seen a movie in any theatres, but I could imagine what it’s like.

It was crowded, but I liked that ocean city, despite myself. It had pale buildings built into cliffs, narrow winding sidewalks where cars couldn’t fit, reckless bikers, and crushed seashell parking lots. I liked the tang of salt in the air and the way my hair crinkled from the ocean water as it sun-dried. I camp out on beaches and bummed cigarettes and hotdogs off strangers. I was good at taking care of myself once I got into a rhythm.

I had a tent by then and even an enormous sun umbrella to keep any prying eyes away. I still liked to sleep under the stars most nights though.

I often dreamed of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I dreamed of descending on pointed ballerina-feet to the silted black bottom. I’d be weighted down through the cold and the silence to where no human being had ever been. I’d open my eyes there, open them all the way, lightning-bright, and unflinching. In my dreams, the salt didn’t even sting. I lit up the world, the whole untouched world of whales and fish and terror and maybe I’d do something good then. Maybe I’d do something good and bring the sun to places that had forgotten it. 

I hated those dreams.

I met Mags on the beach after one of those dreams. Mags had one eye and twelve teeth and carried around nothing but string and scissors everywhere. She smelled like seawater and burning kelp, dank and crusted over. Her clothes were neat despite her leather-cracked skin and arms and neck covered in tattoos of shipwrecks. We ran into each other at some bum gathering and she cackled and pulled me aside.

“What’s your name?” Her voice was old creaking wood. I didn’t answer. “I could give you one.” She offered with a grin that was more empty space than anything.

“Nana.” I gritted out. “You want something?”

“Not sure. What do you want, kid?”

I glared openly, my beam of light slanting. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come here.”

I didn’t know why I was chosen.

Mags liked me more than I deserved. I pocketed her last pair of socks when she wasn’t looking. She never mentioned it and dragged me down to the community showers to get clean with soap and shampoo. She took me to the soup and salad restaurant for something that wasn’t burnt or freeze-dried or from a convenience store. She cackled, she spat when she talked, people shot her looks as well.

I thought she was normal, not touched by the spirits, but she liked me more than most people and I didn’t know why.

“You like art, kid?”

I snorted. “No.”

“Why not? You broken?” Yeah. Probably.

“How am I supposed to know?” I snapped back.

“Lippy squirt. Come on, I’ll show you something worth your forked tongue.”

She heated the needle before she used it, red hot and untouchable. She dipped it into deep black inks, only black and sometimes red, she called them the only colors that matter. She shows me how to prick the skin and clean it. She showed me how to slowly, painstakingly etch images. I wasn’t sure I liked it, there was something so permanent and intentional about the act.

I watched her lessons though: stick and poke to her right foot, all over those fine little bones that must hurt, in and out, a little bloody.

It took her six hours to make a tiny shipwreck right above her big toe. It was a narrow schooner going under and I was the only witness. She made the waves come to life and crash against its sides and sometimes I forgot to blink. She didn’t seem to mind.

She washed another needle. She heated it red-hot. She dipped it in ink and handed it to me.

I still wasn’t sure I liked the permanence of it, but I told myself I was bored and it was something to do. I decided quickly I did like the bite of it, I liked the focus it took, and the ability to pull something from nothing.

I practiced all over my thighs first, there was enough meat there and it was easy enough to reach: a lizard design that looked like nothing but squiggles, a TV set playing static, a tiny smudged skink with its tongue out. I practiced designs in the sand and then on paper when Mags splurged on pen and paper.

Mags took me to the museum on Sundays. They were always free on Sundays.

Something stirred in my chest, even as the guards yelled at us about how flash photography wasn’t allowed in the museum. Even as I was shooed out of exhibits for ruining the paint. Still, an ache so old it rotted roared to life in my chest.

I stabbed in and out, gentle, a collection of stars right above my right knee. A winding sand snake on my wrist, and then finally, something good, something that gave people pause and reason to stare. I made it in the mirror: a ghost on my collarbone. Shadowed and intricate and yet simple, I put a ghost right above my collarbone and it bleeds more than any of the others.

That was a good year or so; one of the best I could remember.

I didn’t want to leave the ocean city though and Mags said she had to keep moving. She had places to be. She gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“You're a gem, kid. You’ll knock ‘em all to the pavement.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You’ll be back?”

She cackled. “Wouldn’t miss it. You know me.” She winked as she turns to the bus, my second father. “You think I’ll miss your great becoming, kid? I’ll be back.”

I wanted to make her pinky-promise like I was a kid again begging one of the others to tell me if I’m beautiful when I close my eyes. I couldn’t do that; I waved as she tottered up the steps of the bus and was taken away with the tides of her own feet.

A had a moment of thinking it was the end then; I was ready to get back to my real normal. I was ready to disappear again. But even shipwrecks with no witnesses leave things left to be found.

------------ I got an apprenticeship. Technically, Mags talked them into it and I just followed up when I had nothing better to do.

I didn’t think I’d like it much, but couch surfing and camping out was the pastime of the especially young. And I’d lost my giant umbrella.

It was a small shop that smelled like bleach and dried flowers. A tattoo parlor in one of the steep arts districts neighbored by food trucks and beaded necklace shops.

Penguin Davies and Bitch-Annie ran it together. Davies walked like he’d never encountered land before, and Bitch-Annie had a throw-pillow embroidered with “If you don’t have anything nice to say then come sit next to me.”

Davies was covered in nothing but birds and dizzying M. C. Escher house-designs up and down his chest and arms. Bitch-Annie had topless mermaids and pinup girls across her shoulders and legs. She’d been asked to leave a number of stores before the children started staring or thinking thoughts.

Neither of them had ever met someone like me. It was not that type of town. I rankled at most their questions, a cat meeting a steel brush. Where are you from? What’s your family name? What kind of school did you go to? Is your sight better than other people you think?

I brushed off anything more personal than my favorite type of soda. Bitch-Annie called me “Shadow” probably as a joke, probably. Davies said I must be possessed by the ghost of some dead star: a blackhole that takes everything in and lets nothing out.

Neither of them let me touch a needle in those first six months. They had me practice on pig skin and trace designs and stand by their shoulders as they worked. I felt like a dental assistant except I was the hanging light shining into open mouths instead of anything with a pulse. I stood at their shoulder as they drew thick lines and thin dots and made hearts and wolves and names of dead lovers come to life.

They asked me to stand still and stop wiggling the light. I almost walked out several to find a new cliff to crash against, almost. 

No one had ever expected anything of me before. They never expected me to show up somewhere or do something well. No one really cared if I went to school or if I did my homework, if I dressed well or went to bed on time. And no one kept any tabs on me at all after I took that first bus. That’s how I liked it.

I should’ve left, tattooing didn’t mean anything to me, not really. But Bitch-Annie stomped up to my attic-apartment one morning and threw pants at me.

“Get up, Shadow,” she barked. She was sterner than Mags, no hint of humor in her eyes. “I told you 9am so I expect 9am.”

“The fuck!?” I was eloquent in the mornings.

“Pants, shirt, shoes, and bra if you don’t want that desk idiot staring at something other than your eyes all day.”

“Are you serious?”

“Serious as a root canal. Mags swore up and down about what you. Let’s see some of that, up, up!”

I grumbled. I put on everything but the bra. No one ever expected me to be anywhere before and 9am shouldn’t have even been a concept much less a real thing. I told myself I hated it. I’d leave the next week. Or maybe the week after that or in just one more month. I kept a bus ticket under my pillow but every time the date arrived I shrugged and made myself busy.

There’d be no harm in having a savings too and seeing what all the fuss was about with having a dishwasher and a kitchen.

I wasn’t an artist of course. I didn’t understand what everyone else was seeing when they looked at the “old masters” paintings of water or war or lovers pulled apart. I didn’t feel anything in front of stain-glass windows in churches or mosaics on walls. Maybe there really was something wrong with me, my eyes. I didn’t let up though. I put on pants for it after all.

Penguin Davies hovered by my shoulder when I made my first real design.

“Mm.” He rumbled deep in his chest. He’d gone grey at an early age, had tired eyes and quick hands. The desk kid said he’d been in medical school once, a surgeon. It was hard to tell. Davies muttered a lot, stared off into space too much, and laughed like it was always a painful surprise

“Perfectionist,” he muttered at me as I start over on a crappy unicorn design. “That line was barely off. You’re being a perfectionist, Nana.”

I scowled over my shoulder and let the full weight of my light hit him across the face. “Got a problem with it?” I challenged. He chuckled darkly. His grin was crooked like a broken door handle. I tried to hide my work from him with my shoulder. “It’s not done yet.”

“It’s late.” The rest of the street was dark. I knew that.

“I said I’m not done yet! You can go home.”

“Hmm.” He scratched his grey beard.

“What?”

“Look at you. You know who makes the best artists, Nana?” He was always a bit of a philosopher. Maybe he used to study that before medicine.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I’m working on it.”

He gave my shoulder a light push. “The ones that don’t quit.”

They let me touch a needle gun after that. I told myself I’d only sign my new apartment lease as an experiment. I didn’t have to actually stay. I’d just run from the ink on paper and hope no one chased after girls with eyes that glow.

I didn’t break my lease. I drew suns and moons, trees and fireflies, hunks in speedos on tipsy college girls who swore they were sober and erotic vampires on the chests of men getting their first divorce. I had to give two refunds for a duck that turned out lopsided and a tattoo of someone’s dog which I swore really was that ugly to begin with.

There was one at the end of that next year though, another college girl with perfectly white piano-key teeth. She asked for a stick and poke, that was what I was best at anyway, she asked for a butterfly. Butterflies were easy, I could do the little ones in my sleep. She wanted one all across her back, she said I could make it look however I wanted. So I did. Wings like fringed shawls and straight heavy lines combined with wispy swirling ones. It was dark, black ink with red highlights and gray shadows under each wing to give it movement and flight.

I hid my smile when I finished and showed her the results in the mirror. She went to my bosses and jumped up and down. She pointed and babbled, ohmyspirits, the best thing I’ve ever seen! Fuck. I should pay you double! Where did you get this girl? 

I held myself perfectly still and studied the ceiling until my eyes dried out.

I took the long way home that night. I stopped once, at the corner where the midnight bus arrived, and watched the the passengers trudge off. I didn’t expect to see Mags again so soon, not really, but sometimes I wanted to show her: Hey, maybe your work wasn’t all wasted. Maybe I did start to become.

---------------- “I’m getting you chocolate.” Annie spat, her thick arms flexing as she cleaned off the spotless counter. “I’m getting you fucking chocolate, Shadow, ‘less you tell me what flavor you actually like.”

I hung at the back of the shop next to the narrow window that faced the road. I let the sun warm my face in thick strips and watched the bicycles pass. “It’s not my birthday.”

“Tell us what your actual birthday is then, you sugar-toasted tart.”

I shrugged. “Not today.”

“Well happy fucking birthday. You’re turning two. You came to work for us two years ago today, washed up from the beach like a deranged feral cat, so this is your birthday now.”

I rolled my eyes which served to look like a flashlight given a shake. Annie spent another minute splashing disinfectant on anything that might have had even a passing conversation with a germ.

“You talk to Birdie?” She asked, but mischievously this time. I responded by setting my mouth in a hard line. “You’re turning twenty-something and you’re not even talking to Birdie, are ya?”

“I’m not telling you what I’m turning. It’s still not my birthday.” I dodged inelegantly.

“Birdie will give you a proper go-around. Even shadows like you must need a little rub now and then.”

“Go dunk your head, Annie.” I huffed.

“Afraid you’ll blind her in bed?”

I turned with a snarl. “I’ll start with you.”

“I’ve seen you flipping through those poetry books, every word about hands or mouths or rosebuds.” She gave me flat a once-over. “You’ve got a sweet tooth in you.”

I dragged myself over to the desk to snarl at her some more, but Annie was already putting her hand up and going toward the backroom.

“I’m getting you a chocolate cake either way.”

There must have been a proper way to get her to never look at my little leather poetry books again, the ones with watermarked pages, the spines broken-in, and words that oozed. No one had to know that I could read, much less that I read that.

The door dinged instead.

“Excuse me.” She walked in. Her. “Is someone, um, named Nana here?” I turned before I could stop myself. That was still my name. And it was still my work.

Twenty-something, curtains of straight black hair falling in her face, pinched nose, thin energetic lips, shorts that gave way to milk-dipped legs that never seemed to end. A slight girl in a university t-shirt. College kids came in often during their breaks, but this one was a bit different. My eyes dragged up and fish-hooked there.

Feathered tendrils sprouted from her head and reached toward the ceiling. Long and searching, a pearly green color that reminded you of leaves or plumage.

I knew within a moment where I’d heard of this: Antennae Girl. The newspapers ran our stories close together along with the boy that breathed fire and the girl with roots growing from her head. We were all born in the same year during the epoch of monsters and bastards.

I think she recognized me too.

We stopped like heartbeats seizing up before the ambulance could make it. A confused, unnatural silence. I glanced at the door and considered making a run for it.

She cleared her throat first.

“Someone said that Misty’s butterfly tattoo came from here?” She blinked once and I noticed how her feathered antennae seemed to twitch. I averted my eyes so I wouldn’t blind her. She took a step forward. “So are you . . . Nana?”

The door was right there.

“What do you want?” I had been spending too much time with Bitch-Annie.

“A tattoo?”

“What kind?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Then why are you here?” I grunted. Footsteps came in from the back room. I was examining the smudged off-white tiles of the floor one by one.

“I wanted to . . . hey, you can look up if you want.” She said, curiously, softly. I didn’t look up. “I’m still figuring out the design.” She trudged on ahead.

“Fine.” I pivoted away. “But we’re busy. Come back later.”

A hand slapped across my shoulder. “This is Nana.” Annie stopped me from leaving. “Don’t let her eyes fool ya, it’s her personality that’s actually the problem. You saw her butterfly you said?”

“Yes!” She gushed. “It was gorgeous.”

“It was fine,” I corrected.

“It’s her birthday today.” Annie shared because she could and because she was a failed evil villain still trying to get her kicks in.

“Oh cool, happy Birthday.” A deep pause followed that could fill oceans. “You can look up. I don’t mind.” She repeated.

I opened my eyes wide and lifted my chin in one jerky motion. A beam of fluorescent headlights hit her across the face. “Is this what you want?” Venom dripped from my lips. This was why I tried not to talk too much.

The young woman squinted for a moment before covering her eyes and nodding. “I read about you,” she stated as if it was nothing. “I’m turning twenty-two this year . . . so I guess, you are too?”

“What?!” Delight filled Annie’s entire expression. “Hot damn! Twenty-two?” I groaned deeply. “Hey, you, girlie,” she addressed antennae-girl, “you want to come out for drinks tonight?”

I tried to protest as quickly as possible, but somehow didn’t summon the words quickly enough.

“Sure.” She agreed. ----------------------

The night was humid and clung to us like a second skin. I wandered through the hilly streets with Penguin Davies wobbling beside me. The desk kid—Daft Jeff, said Davies had some inner-ear problem that made it hard for him to keep his balance. Annie said he just didn’t belong on land— he couldn’t walk straight unless something was tilting and rolling under his feet.

Davies made his way up the hill, faltering and missing the musical beats of it. He refused to let me steady him and I refused to have him sing to me. It was apparently my birthday.

“Someone saw your design.” He noted on the downhill.

“Yeah. Some college girl.” I grumbled.

“What’d you think?” He asked in his usual mysterious way.

“She just wants a good look.” I returned in a neutral tone. “She read about me in the paper. All she wants to do is look.”

“She saw your design.” He paused. “And Jeff said she was like you.”

I blinked hard so the path ahead was eaten by shadow and Davies stumbled. “Not all of us have to be friends . . .” I said sourly and didn’t fill in the rest. “I’ve met kids with antlers and frog-hands before. I doesn’t mean anything.”

“Any of them come visit?”

“They’re smart enough not to.” I snark. “But the ones who manage to be pretty don’t have the brains to stay away.”

“Mm.” He made a soft sound. “What kind of tattoo do you think she’ll get?”

“How should I know? A heart or anchor or something dumb like that.” I walked on ahead. “Maybe I’ll give her a quote from some dead poet.”

“You like poetry.”

I huff dramatically, “Not what I mean. Girls like her don’t like my type of poetry, you know I’m saying.”

“What kind of girls?” Davies was patient. I hated that about him.

I stopped at the corner to let him catch up. “Don’t play dumb. Hot ones, college ones, getting a degree in money or music. They don’t watch over their shoulders enough or know when to stay away.” I scuffed my shoe on the ground. “Whatever.”

Davies was still thinking. I considered pushing him over. He finally spoke up again as we approach the bar, “That sea witch ever show up again?”

“Mags?” I snorted. “No. Why?”

“Cause I’m sure she’d like to see this.”

I didn’t say anything else as we reached the doorway. -------------------- The bar was loud. More people than I liked came to my “party.” I should have seen it coming. If the cliff city liked one thing it was an excuse to drink.

I crammed myself up against the bar and ordered a gin and tonic before the rest of the night crowd could arrive. Birdy was holding court at a corner table and waving at me. “There she is! Someone put a blanket over Nana, lights out, party up!”

Her puns usually left something to be desired. She sang “Blinded by the Light” every time she saw me for half a year.

I drank half my gin and tonic in the first gulp as a new stream of townies burst in. They arrived to buy me birthday beers and shout their opinions on the shitty new chain restaurant on 3rd street. I was almost tasting the bottom of my second glass when someone tapped on my shoulder.

I barely looked over.

The girl with sheets of black hair and a practiced-appearance stood before me—like she was at dress rehearsal and expected everyone else to know the lines as well. She carried a baby-blue bike helmet in one hand, and I noted there were two hand-drilled holes in the top.

“You.” I was tempted to shake her hand like I might make this a transactional hello and goodbye in short order.

“Hey.” She smiled, hesitant, like maybe the food on the fork might be too hot. “Nana, right?”

“Yep.” I sighed the word real long and heavy. “Listen, I really can’t give you a tattoo if you don’t know what you want.”

“No, no, I get it. But I want you to know . . . I didn’t know it was you.”

“Uh, okay. Though I’m pretty hard to miss over here.” I was looking at the dirty wine bottles stacked near the ceiling. Her antennae hang over both of us like fern fronds.

“No. I mean, when I saw the butterfly. That’s when I wanted to come here. Not after.”

“After what?” I was gonna make her say it.

“After I found that it was, well, you know, Headlights Girl.”

“Mm.” I was spending too much time with Davies. “You want something to drink?”

She sighed as well, real long and heavy. “Sure.” She took the seat next to me. “I’m Park by the way.”

“Park.” I rolled the name around in my mouth. “And you already know me.”

“I don’t think I do.” She laughed, sharp and bristly like something you can get cut on. “And I’ll have a beer. . . but only once you look up. Come on, I’m not like that.” I looked up. Her face was bright, round like the moon, her grin was sneaky and unearned. “There we go.”

She waved over the bartender Kipp and ordered her dark beer.

“It’s not really my birthday.” I informed her, dumbly. Every word felt dumb and clumsy all at once.

“Why not?” She was teasing. I knew that.

“That’s not how birthdays work.” I informed and wished I could backtrack into hostility again.

“Oh darn,” she winked. “And here I was about to make it my birthday too.”

“Uh, well,” I really should have left when I had the chance. “It’s not too late?”

“That’s the spirit!” She laughed, fuller this time and rounded. I looked her straight in the face and then quickly looked away again. Her grin was aimed at me, somehow, and seemed to reach high cupboards inside me you usually needed a stool for.

“Park,” I repeated the name and shifted in place. “So did you go to Haveryards or Simmons?” There were only two schools in the country for spirit bastards like us. Haveryards was close enough for me to get bussed to—an hour one way and then an hour home.

“Neither. I went to public and then Bakerville Uni.” She rapped on the counter. “Hey, you want another gin and tonic? Or I’ll mix you up something.” Her eyes flickered over everything. “I bartended my way through college so I can make a mean margarita.”

“Oh, Bakerville U., yeah. That ones close.” I stuttered a bit. She was leaning across the counter and trying to get Kipp’s attention a second time. My words were feeling dumber and dumber by the moment, perhaps losing all shape and meaning altogether. “That’s where you went?”

“How’d you guess?” She said playfully and pointed to her t-shirt. She finally got the bartender over. “Right, you want something hard? Vodka maybe? A mule?”

I scratched my chin. “ . . . I don’t care. I’m easy.”

She rolled her eyes and I knew she must feel me staring. “I can’t imagine shopping for you for today then.” She snickered and climbed over the counter. “Happy birthday, how about one chocolate mule for a free tattoo?”

“You wish.” I made a face. “You don’t even know what you want.”

“And you do?” She was still grinning, somehow. “I’ve decided I’m making you the equivalent of all the soda flavors mixed together at once. Close your eyes.”

I closed my eyes and I tried to turn off my thoughts. It was bright as knives inside my skull; I carry the daytime with me. Panic threatened to rise up (for no reason of course), but a soft hand brushed against mine, soft like sheets in fancy hotels and flower petals. I peaked and Park slid a full murky glass toward me.

“Drink up.”

It was sweet. It wasn’t even my birthday. I didn’t care. She called it a chocolate-mule-Park Special and maybe chocolate really was my favorite flavor. -------------- Park started coming around. She rode a sky-blue bike with a white basket and rusting hinges. I couldn’t imagine doing all the hills in the city without any gears, but she managed. She said she was figuring things out after graduating. She said she liked it here.

I grumbled when she came by. I complained like Annie when Wicker the cat visited: Get that thing away from me. I hate that. Smells awful. I’ve got allergies. Put that away, it’ll kill me.

I never said anything when Annie left fish heads out and bowls of milk of course.

Park smelled like sunscreen and breath mints. She had strong opinions on everything from street paving techniques to which sun hats went with which dresses. She invited me on walks. She invited me to help her change a flat tire. She invited me to the corner shop to help her pick out bottle can openers.

I said no. Sometimes I said no. I started to say yes.

“Look at this,” she liked to show me things. She liked to show me pictures of squirrels on her phone and weird pieces of glass she found. She liked to point out new restaurants (that I’d already been to) and play videos of funny traffic jams.

This time she held up a seashell. It was rounded and flat with a swirl in the center.

“I’m looking.” I said carefully.

“Watch how it catches light.” I shun my eyes on it and she moved it back and forth. There were bits of silver veins caught in the cracks of it.

“There’s tons of those.” At this point, I had valiantly refused to be impressed by even her cutest squirrel pictures.

“Ugh.” She pouted. “Are you kidding? I spent all morning looking for this.”

“They're right by the surf. I could find you five bigger ones than this before sunset.”

“Alright, hot-shot.” She jut her chin out and jabbed my shoulder. “Prove it.”

I said yes to that one. I left right after my shift ended with the sun setting in the waters like a stabbed orange bleeding out. I met Park by the parking lot with drooping palms trees lining the sides and lost flipflops everywhere.

“This is where you went wrong.” I announced. I couldn’t help it. “This is the tourist beach. You have to go somewhere real.”

“Alright, alright. You’ve already established you’re the hot-shot here. Lead the way.”

She followed me. I ignored how she lingered by my side. I ignored how her hand wrapped around my arm as she stopped us to look at a tiny horseshoe crab. Her hand was soft, like velvet, soft enough to smother something in my chest.

I found two seashells with streaks of silver and rainbow through them, both bigger than my palm. The sun was a flat line on the horizon before I could find a third and Park hooted.

“You said before sunset! It’s sunset, baby, pay up.” She called. “And you were so sure you were a better seashell hunter than me.” She tsked.

I scanned the ground more quickly. “It’s barely nighttime.” I pointed to the sky. “And I can keep looking. I have the built-in equipment for it.”

“Oh I know.” She planted herself on the soggy crusted sand and sat down in a heap. “But can you find why kids love the taste of not doing that? Take it easy. Take a seat.”

“So pushy.”

“You know me.” It was fond. It had only been a few months, but there was something fond there.

I ran a hand through my short choppy curls. “Fine.” I sat next to her, not too close. “It’s your loss.” We both looked out at the gently lapping waves, foaming and anemic. She let a long breath of air and for a moment I considered brushing her hair back. It was always in her face.

It was a quiet moment, bottled, and pitching toward something. Like the the moment where you miss a step on the stairs and the certainty of the fall was right there.

I was the one that scooted a little closer.

“I’m considering getting a storm cloud,” she commented off-handedly. “Can you do storm clouds?”

I made a sound of consideration. “Sure.” I glanced toward the opposite corner of the night sky. “I think I’ve seen one of those before. Big puffy wet things?”

“Kinda fluffy? You’re getting there.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” I’m smiling, which is alright since there’s no way she could see it. She’s silent for another moment longer.

“Or would you make fun of me if I got something like a butterfly? Like your other one.”

“A storm cloud butterfly?”

“No. The cloud would it’s own thing.” She chewed on her bottom lip, ragged and chapped. “I mean, I’ve been doodling some ideas. And tattoos should be personal, right? So I thought a storm cloud might be fitting. Kids used to pay me a couple dollars to predict the weather. It could be a memorial to childhood entrepreneurial spirit.”

I watched her speak and something beat inside my chest like a second animal. I wanted to be closer. I wanted to feel velvet again.

“Why?” I rasped after a moment.

“Uh, why did they pay me? It’s just something I can do. Whenever it's going to rain or storm or be sunny out. I dunno, I don’t know why the rest of you can’t sense it.”

“And you didn’t become a meteorologist?” I smiled a bit bitterly.

She made an indignant noise. “And you didn’t become a professional lighthouse?”

I choked on a laugh. “Not yet.” A quiet consumed us from both sides, I made sure my light didn’t crash into her. I made sure to look at anything but her. She’d have to squint if I did and cover her eyes and I’d be there, ready to run her over.

“Kids in my class paid me too.” I barely realized I started speaking. “They slipped me a couple bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face.”

“You got money for that?”

“There wasn’t always much to do. Teachers were quitting all the time and sometimes it was just the TV. I dunno, they paid me. Then they’d giggle and run away afterward.” My voice sounded automated like the announcer at an airport, informing travelers their flight was canceled. “They always said I had a pig nose or a unibrow or looked like the lead singer of that Minx girl band-- super hot, but you know, it didn’t matter.” The laugh that escaped was high, girlish in a grotesque way. “Since, you know, no one would ever see it.”

“Kids are fucked up.” Park contributed simply.

“Adults are too.” I sniffed. “Everyone wants a light show.”

“Oh.” She said slowly. “Is it . . . is it bad I wanted to meet you then? I mean, I wanted to see the art first, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a factor.”

“No.” I said quickly. I lit up my own lap and empty hands. “Does it matter?”

“I never went to those schools,” she said hesitantly. “My parents fought them, said the schools were unfit. They shouldn’t be able to force us there. And that I wasn’t even dangerous since,” she gestured helplessly upward, “I just have these. So then, well, I never really met anyone else like me.”

“I mean, everyone’s different. It’s not . . . a big deal.”

“You’d think so,” she commented sardonically.

I folded up into myself like a complex origami piece. “Yeah, well, sometimes I wish I was dangerous. Actually dangerous.”

She giggled. “Didn’t you just say everyone’s different? I’d say everyone’s dangerous too. Just gotta find the niche.”

“Oh yeah,” I dared to turn toward her. “What’s yours then?”

“My danger niche? Hmm.” She was leaning now, pitching forward like a wave come to drown me. “I do have a few tricks up my sleeve I’ll admit.”

“You have a pair of wings hidden away?” I stopped breathing as her hand lifted up, strange and all at once. I wasn’t ready.

“Here.” Her skin was against mine. She cupped my cheek with one velvet-hand. It was heated cashmere, tiny feather-light hairs on her palm. “Feelers.” She whispered with a hesitancy there.

“Ah,” I was indulgent. I closed my eyes. I leaned in. “And you want to put a needle over these?” I put my hand over hers, loosely, so she could pull away if she wanted to. Tiny hairs pulsed there with some kind of life all their own. 

“I wanted . . .” She paused and I peaked open my eyes. I could see every detail of her face, illuminated. “I dunno.” She finished. “I guess I just wanted whatever I saw there, before.”

“In the butterfly?”

“In the butterfly.” I turned toward the ocean, but my hand remained over hers. “I’m not sure how good it will be a second time. It’s not like I’m really an artist. . .”

“What did you want to be?” Soft.

“Who knows. I mean, I’m glad my parents didn’t try to fight the schools. Being there during the day was better than being home, listening to my mom crying all the time and my father exploding . . . They wouldn’t have wanted me home.”

Before the sunset, when I was walking over, I thought maybe we’d kiss that night. I thought I’d feel that first electric pulse and maybe we’d climb into the ocean and swim in circles, laugh until the moon rose. I thought maybe I’d get something out of my system and there wouldn’t be anything left to say or do.

I’d kiss Park, once, and she’d be satisfied. She’d understand. She’d go on her college path and I’d go on on mine.

But the words spilled out, unbidden. Park stayed in place, steady and unflinching. That made it worse, so much worse.

“My parents weren’t like yours.” There was an accusatory edge to it. Don’t you know? I wanted to shout. Don’t you know? Even without the eyes or the school bills or the bus.

“Hey,” she cradled my cheeks with both hands now and smeared the tears away from one eye. “Hey, listen, I know. Alright? I know.”

I scowled back at her feathered little feelers.

“It’s not about the damn antenna or head beams or anything else.” I tried to pull away. “Even the kid with the antler’s kissed me and I didn’t stop him. I ran away from home and my mom never came looking. It didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter! You wouldn’t even get it. You wouldn’t get it!” I squeeze my eyes closed. “You were wanted.”

Slowly, like an awkward animal burrowing into soft earth, she pressed her forehead to the crook of my neck. I could feel us both breathing in, strong and steady. She was lean and silky, and I swore I can feel her heartbeat hammering through my throat.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. I inhaled her sunscreen scent. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know. But I could.”

“Why are you here?” It was miserable and wet, I hated that my eyes were so different and yet still the same. Could still spill over like theirs. She took a long breath but didn’t move away.

“My last girlfriend broke up with me for being . . . sensitive and I thought maybe if I got a tattoo, I’d stop feeling so much. I’d prove something. I’d feel everything less, you know? It would hurt and then it wouldn’t.”

I took that in a parsec at time. “Are you,” I sniffed. “Are you alright?” Her legs and arms were plastered over mine. “You’re so soft, but, but I don’t want to,” I wipe at my face like it didn’t matter. “Hurt you.”

“I know.” Her face was still pressed to my neck and her lips fluttered across the hallow of my skin. “I didn’t want to hurt you either.”

A stillness settled into my bones. I glanced toward the moon, and it was like looking at like, a terrible moon to another moon. I gathered myself. I took a deep breath. I flattened.

“I shouldn’t have said all that.” My voice had dried up. “We led different lives.” It wasn’t her fault if she was wanted.

“No.”

“I wasn’t thinking . . .”

Her hand wrapped around my wrist. “I talk to Annie sometimes when you aren’t there.”

“Okay?”

“And Davies. And that front desk guy.”

“Daft Jeff. Yes.”

“They all say the same thing . . .” I blinked a couple times. “That I really should wait for you to give me the tattoo. You have a steady hand and an eye for detail.”

“Alright . . .”

“That someone taught you tattooing the right way. They wanted to show you the right way to do it.”

I snorted despite myself. “It’s not that hard. Mags was batty. Who knows why she showed me how to pick up a needle.”

“Don’t you see? They say they wouldn’t know what to do without you.” She was still there. She wasn’t moving, almost in my lap now. “You were wanted.”

“Park?” My voice cracked like a question.

“And you come with me to restaurants and help me buy bottle openers. You find shells for me and help me fix tires.” Her breath was hot and dragged across my cheek. “You are wanted.”

I blocked out her face, her voice, I turned on the sharp white sun inside and for a moment I imagine never opening my eyes back up again. Maybe I could make it night forever inside myself as well. Wouldn’t you rather have something quiet inside?

She wrapped herself around me, fully, one long arm at a time until it was cocoon. Soft. “Listen, sometimes the first people aren’t the right people. Sometimes your first relationship isn’t the right relationship. Sometimes you’re sure the world is one way, and like, always one way . . . and then it rains and the whole world is different again. You know? People pass.”

“My parents aren’t the weather.”

“But they’ll pass.” I should have pushed her off. But even against that, even those words— I liked being held, indulgent as chocolate and twice as guilty. “People sometimes feel forever, especially those kinds of people.” I was off again. “But it rains. And hey, I always know when it’s going to rain.”

I hiccupped; a smile found its way uninvited onto my face, unsure and just wobbly on its feet as Davies. I glanced down after a deep breath. Park grinned back at me and it reached the highest shelves of me all over again.

“So what happens when it rains again? Do you people like you pass?”

“Nah, not me. I don’t know how.” She winked. I didn’t notice that we’re lying flat now, stars and carpet of black above. “You can’t get rid of me. You haven’t given me that tattoo yet.”

The sound of shushing waves filled the midnight air and the moon looked down like that very first bus arriving to get me all those years ago. I wrapped my arms right back around her. She didn’t seem to mind that I was sticky or strange or sometimes kept tearing up all over again even after we’d stop saying anything worth tearing up over. ------------------

It happened. I felt like I should have been more prepared, brought flowers or poetry or earned it through honored warfare. But it happened. I was wearing ripped jeans, a spotty t-shirt and my breath smelled like coffee. We were looking for Park’s lost earring along an overgrown hill she usually biked along.

I found it, one shiny red dewdrop in all that green. Park pointed at some clouds that looked like my last “abstract” tattoo. We lay back in the grass and let the sky pass overhead. She giggled and touched my wrist, side by side. I let her.

“Summer’s almost over.” I mumbled it first.

“Yeah?”

“You find your next step then, college girl?” I tried to keep my tone light. She turned to be on her side.

“Maybe.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.”

“That does not sound like a college-girl plan.”

“Maybe I’ve got other plans. Maybe I’ve got other priorities, huh?”

“Ridiculous.” A playfully push her shoulder. “A lousy seaside town really isn’t priority material. There’s only one bookshop you know.”

“Two thank you very much. And that’s not my priority either.” Her voice wavered.

“Are you going to share with the class?”

“Is the class ready?” She whispered and I turned toward her as well now, taking in her perfect round face and question-mark mouth.

“I have been.” I matched her whisper. I tremor from my center outward and hopes she can’t tell.

“Do you know what they say about moths?”

“What?” I gave a breathy laugh. It wasn’t what I was expecting. “I’ve heard of them.”

“They tell your fortune.” She was grinning in that way that put out a stool and reached up. “I used to cry a lot growing up, because some kids said that moths are just evil butterflies. I was sensitive and ran all the way home. I threw myself at my mom’s feet and threw a fit about how moths were just evil butterflies. They were just ugly, wicked versions of a good thing.”

“Evil? Well, I suppose you are rather sinister when you haven’t eaten.”

“Shut up. I’m telling you something.” She put a hand on my shoulder. I inhaled deeply and turned over in place to face her. Only the shallow breeze kept us apart.

“I’m all ears . . . though maybe not as many as you.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“What can I say? The sun is adorable. I take after him.”

A finger ghosted over my cheek, tracing the arc of my cheekbone. “Well, you’re not so bad behind those headlights too. Some of us have good day vision you know. And good taste.”

I wished those words didn’t make my chest do funny things. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to hear what my mom said or not?”

“That you shouldn’t worry about evil butterflies?” I wiggled closer. “Because you’ll be really hot and funny and smart one day. So who cares if you’re evil?”

“Yeah, those were her exact words.”

“So?”

“So,” a firm hand took my chin. “Look at me.” I looked at her. I was glad she couldn’t see the flush in my cheeks in any way. “Moths show good fortunes she said.”

“Right. Lots and lots of good fortune.” I breathed, dumbly, of course. She was close and sweet and there was hair in her face. The fronds of her antennae tickle right past my ear.

“They can help you find good fortune. They’re good omens. You know why?” Park’s lips were barely moving as she spoke, hypnotic and unhurried.

“Why?”

“Because they follow the light.”

It happened all at once. Like every cheesy love poem or bad lyrics I wrote in my journals at night. It was every cracked-spine of a book using words like “rosebud lips” and every overdone song about people who find their way to each other.

I kissed her, leaning in with no life vest on or readied crash-landing position. She kissed me and my chest filled with her, breathless, drowning, soft as dreams and stranger than hope. I cradled her and she dragged me closer and closer until it was nothing but floods and brimming.

I’d been nothing before I think, I’d been an island that waits, a bus that leaves, a shadow that hides. And then I had been hers. ----------------- I was strolling home from work along the main road. The thin strip of sidewalk was streaked with bleached sunlight and the salt air was thick enough to burn throats. It was the long way home, but I was in the habit of going back to this corner.

The bus pulled up with little ceremony. It was an interstate one that crisscrossed over empty bellies of land. I stopped in place to watch, just in case, as I had many times before.

A silver head bobbed down the steps and planted herself on the concrete, unbelieving. She took an enormous noisy sniff of the air. “Not so bad!” She bellowed.

“Are you?” That wasn’t meant to be my first word. She was more stooped now and wearing shiny things on her wrist that clanked. She’d lost another tooth. “Mags.”

“Eh!” She yelled and waved frantically as if I hadn’t shot up another inch since I last saw her and started wearing clothes without holes in them. Her eyes sparkled as she tottered over. “So how’d you do, kid?”

“See for yourself.” I smiled. It was nice when the tides came back in. Mags gave me a thorough appraising. “Like this I guess.” I held up my hand. I wiggled my ring finger at her, heavy with a silver band and glittering opal.

“That’s my girl! Always knew you’d find your feet.” She cackled. “Am I too late to give you away, kid?”

I shook my head. She waddled over to me so I could take her hand. I took her home to show her my art and new tattoos, I showed her our terrible one-eyed kitten, Basket (Wicker’s son), and the little house we styled ourselves. I showed her our shoe closet and our queen bed, our messy kitchen and busted screen door. I showed her the moth tattoo over my heart, and Park showed her the matching lighthouse one over hers.

I tried to thank her, of course, I tried to say I owed her more than she knew for picking up an angry, dirty kid and seeing something in her. I owed her everything. But she just patted my hand and said that it’s not about our debts in life, kid. It’s about the becoming.

-----------

If you enjoyed the story please consider donating to my ko-fi or supporting me on patreon (even a dollar helps!), check out my Sapphic fantasy book as well!

[angelamajiki]

Can I request something?!

We try to escape Overhaul but he catches us but as a punishment seeing as we don't like him he gives us to Rappa so he can do what he wants to us for a week and in the end we go back to him and he has you never wanting to even step out your room.

Is that fine? Anyways stay safe, drink water, wear a mask, and keep up the great work!

PARINGS: Rappa x AFAB! Reader

CW: yandere, watersports, noncon, facefucking, teasing, manhandling, scumbag rappa

AN: thank you nonnie!! <33

Kai had caught you trying to escape. Or rather, Rappa was the one who actually caught you, laughing and jeering at your cries and the pounding of your small fists on his back. Your captor was not amused in the slightest as his henchman emerged into his office with you tucked a little too snuggly over his shoulder.

“Caught your lil’ scrub tryin’ to escape, boss.” Rappa cackled, sitting you down on the chair in front of the yakuza leader’s desk. “Damn, does she squeal like a pig.”

He clapped his hand over your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. The man had taken a liking towards you, meaning to say that he enjoyed watching Kai dole out punishments for when you tried to escape or otherwise upset him, which wasn't hard to do.

“Yes, she does.” Kai sighed, brows furrowed deeply in irritation. “What am I going to do with you, pet? Do I not provide for you, care for you? How can I get you to behave, hm?”

Tapping a finger against his forehead, he signed and closed his eyes, slumping back in his chair, hands folded in his lap.

“I’ll never stop trying to escape because anywhere else is better than being here with you, Overhaul.” You spat venomously, squirming under Rappa’s tight grip. The man behind you just chuckled darkly.

“Say, boss...if the little lady here is so unhappy with you, why don't you put her on loan to someone for the time being? Let ‘em show her how good you are to her, eh?”

Kai quirked a brow at Rappa, immediately picking up what he was throwing down. He had half a mind to punish Rappa as well for his blatant display of insubordination and to dare to think he’d willingly give up his precious pet to him like she was a mere stray.

Ah, but the man did have a point. His pet needed to be taught how kind her master is, and Rappa is the perfect opposition to do so. A degenerate at heart, his underling, was rowdy, filthy, and above all, a bigger sadist than Kai was.

He knew the man loved nothing more than to watch him spank the poor thing until she was a sobbing, blubbering mess of “I’m sorry, Kai!” gasping and panting for air like she was on the verge of death. What a drama queen he had on his hands. But he treated you like a queen nonetheless, but your attitude was simply out of control at this point.

“I think Rappa’s right, dear. Why don't you spend the week with him? Take a break from me if I’m so intolerable.”

Ice ran through your veins as Rappa unceremoniously scooped you up from your chair, opting to throw you over his shoulder. Kai’s chuckle and Rappa’s jeers mixed with your protests as you squirmed and squealed in his monstrous grasp.

“I thought you said anywhere else would be better than being with me. Remember, this is the choice you made, darling.”

“Rappa, you're dismissed.”

With a wave of a gloved hand, your fate was sealed. The bulkier man nodded and smacked a large hand over your ass.

“You and me? We're gonna have some fun, little piggy.” ——— •

Settled on Rappa’s bed, if you could call a sparsely covered mattress that hadn't been washed in god knows how long a bed, your nerves were set ablaze watching the man undress. And he certainly made a show of it, flexing his muscles and winking at you all the while.

“Like what ya see, sweets?” He groaned, striking a pose in front of you in nothing but a wife-beater and a pair of boxers. Oogling couldn't be helped; the man was built like Adonis. Strong, fierce, and big. Much, much bigger than you were.

“I hope so, cause I definitely do.” He smirked, licking his lips as he stalked over to you. “Don’t ya about a thing, little piggy. Papa’s gonna take real good care of ya”

Climbing over you, he pinned you to the mattress with one hand and used the other to feel you up.

“Yeesh, yer stiff as a board. Maybe a little game will help loosen you up, piggy.”

Fingers crawled their way up to your torso and to your mouth, leaving a searing heat in their wake. His fingers snatched your tongue from your mouth, shoving themselves down your throat to choke you.

“This little piggy wants to choke on my cock.”

His insenstant cooing and grinning had your stomach turning in knots, helping the fingers in your throat gag you even further. The thumb pressed down on your tongue before spitting a glob down your throat.

“This little piggy wants to be squeezed real tight.”

The sing-song tone in his voice only served to heighten your fear. Of course, the bastard thought this was all a game to him and you his toy.

His grin only got wider as his hand crept down your throat and ghosted itself there, barely touching before lunging. A panicked yip flew from your mouth as he pinned you by your throat.

There was hardly any pressure, just a cage of fingers keeping you locked into his impossibly firm grip. The hand was more than large enough to circle your neck. You smell the grim on his fingers, the labor of his love for the Shie Hassaikai.

“Almost got ya, piggy!” He teased, licking a long strip up your cheek. God, his breath stunk.

“Keep up now; the fun’s just starting.”

His fingers seemed to leave a trail of grime as they traveled down to your exposed breasts. They groped and gripped at your tender flesh without finesse or technique. So rough and worn from all the fighting he does. Your right tit was cupped in his hand before he gave it a hard squeeze.

“This little piggy wants to be milked.”

Onto your left, giving your nipple a good tug and pinch.

“This little piggy wants to be sucked.”

Your squeals and cries only made him laugh harder, grunting when you squirmed against the leg in between your thighs.

“Aw, is baby girl gonna cry? Cause I’ll give you something to cry about.”

Every touch of the pads from his fingers made you even sicker than before. You could feel every place he touched, the disgusting filth they left in their wake. The continued down your stomach, stopping to tickle you softly on your sides.

“W-What are you doing?!”

Your laughter couldn't be contained as he got rougher and rougher, chuckling along with you as he pressed his face close to yours.

“Stop it! I-I’m going to pee!”

“Good. That's what I like to hear.” He grunted, pressing his elbow hard into your bladder all while tickling you. Shame and piss flushed out of you as he groaned, grinding his knee up against your wet, sloppy cunt.

“Look at that! Piggy’s finally rolling around in filth where pigs belong.”

“I can't wait to make a mess of you.”

Humiliation flushed your face and your body, feeling even more disgusted as you felt your own piss on your lower body.

Rappa stood up and took a good look at you, admiring his handy work. A flushed, tearful expression that could be fucked up even more, his favorite face to see. Especially on someone as beautiful as you.

Sitting you up, he sat behind you and took your hair into two separate ponytails before trying them off.

“There, perfect for gripping.”

A rough push landed you on the floor, naked and afraid. One hand grabbed both your ponytails at the same time and steered you to be seated facing his crotch.

“Open wide, piggy.”

You shook your head, already feeling humiliated enough for one evening.

“Are you deaf? Open up, you bratty little bitch. Don't make me ask again unless ya fancy fighting me instead.”

Now that was a truly horrifying thought. The man could quickly kill you with a single punch and let Overhaul bring you back to life, only to do it again and again. Those men, especially Kai, had no qualms about taking your life when you decided to misbehave.

Considering your choices, you cut your losses and nodded, opening your mouth slowly and braced yourself for a brutal facefucking.

The man sunk himself into your throat, sitting there when he bottomed out. His hips twitched as you choked and gagged around his massive dick.

“Yeah.” He groaned, pulling out only to slam back in. “That's what I’m talkin’ about. Finally got ya to shut your mouth and put it to good use.”

Hips thrusting, he set a brutal pace into your mouth. Heavy balls slapped against your chin as your spit and tears made a mess of your face. He paid no mind to your shaking and struggling, only moaning when you choked particularly hard.

“Guess I gotta let ya up to breathe, huh piggy?”

Pulling himself out, he gave you a few seconds to cough and gulp in the air before nudging his way back into your warm, wet mouth.

“Can’t spoil you too much now.” He chuckled.

One hand gripping each ponytail, he tugged them tight and fucked your mouth with vigor. His hips slammed against your cheeks, sure to leave bruises as they started to sputter.

“Y-You’re just so cute, piggy. I can’t last long when you look at me like that.” He grunted, pulling your hair even tighter.

His cock hurt your throat horribly. You could feel the burn of every stroke and spasm into your mouth, tears streaming down your face even more from the pain. Your hair felt like it was going to be ripped out from the sheer amount of strength he was pulling it with.

His thrusts increased in pace as he chased his orgasm, opting to hold the back of your head flush against his crotch when he finally did cum. Making sure to swallow every last drop, Rappa didn't let you up until he was completely finished.

“Such a good girl for Papa.” Rappa jeered, picking you up off the floor by the throat and pressed a sloppy kiss to your mouth.

Tossed onto the bed, he spread your legs wide and pressed a thumb to your dripping hole.

“And this little piggy wants to get fucked all night long.”

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#211

“You can come around your car. I just have to ask, what the hell are you doing walking around naked when its forty degrees out? I know this is a place where men get blowjobs from queers like you. Fuck that’s why I always stop here, but I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here once the semis pull out of here first thing in the morning....

“I was gonna write my name in the snow. So come on over. How the fuck did this happen?… Well that fucking sucks. The driver just drove off taking your keys and cell phone? Men can be assholes at times. Did he at least dump a load in you?… Well that’s good.

“You are shivering. Want to get warmed up, get on your knees in front of me. I got a bladder full of hot piss that will warm your insides. Damn, it’s so cold your pecker has crawled back inside. Here drink it all. Don’t worry, no one pulls in until late afternoon. Now if you spill a drop, I’m leaving you here. Fuck this feels good. Seriously, I was just going to piss and take off home. Just got off graveyard. Oh man, you’ve drank piss before haven’t you? Don’t answer, I can definitely tell. I got me a real pig on my dick. And it knows it. You got me getting hard. Pull off. Big, isn’t it? I won’t be able to finish pissing until my dick gets soft.

“Now, I bet you like to stick your tongue in a man’s shithole?… ‘Yes Sir?’ Did you just say ‘Yes Sir’? Are you one of those queers that’s into taking orders and being smacked around? Fuck yeah! I bet you don’t care what condition the man’s ass is when you are eating it, huh? OK, faggot, turn around and bend over. I need to sample that cunt. Faggot, you got me so horned up. Fuck, your cunt is sloppy. How many loads am I feeling in there?… Four? You fucking whore. I love it.

“Here’s the deal. I’m can take you home and warm you up. I am totally into being serviced by a faggot pig. You come with me, you agree to drink my piss, eat my ass, take my loads, be tied up, and be smacked around?… I’m going to add my nut to your butt batter. Fuck yeah. Fuck. Fuck. Damn fag. Look at the mess on my cock.

“Faggot, a real pig would have already been on his knees begging to clean me up. Atta boy. As you clean me up, let me explain the deal. I am always looking for faggots who are pigs. You come home with me, and I will put you through your paces. It’s going to be a lot more than a blow job and a rim job. You will be a full toilet. You will be a cum dump. You will be under lock and key at all times. And here’s the best part. You will suffer at the end of my whip. Here comes the rest of my piss. If you get in my truck with me, you agree I can do whatever the fuck I want to you no matter how cruel or nasty I can be.

“I see you are thinking. Consider this. If you say yes go over to the passenger side and get in. There’s a pair of handcuffs in the gloved box put them on and enjoy the heat. Now if you say no, I won’t have any bad feelings, we’ll just part company here and now. Someone will be along shortly, I hope. The choice is yours.

“Thought so. Faggot, I’m changing your name to Faggot, let’s get those cuffs on you before you get in. It’s a lot easier. Face the truck and hands behind you…. And with that second click you belong to me. Get in. Seat belt on. Good. And now the final piece. I little duct tape across your toilet mouth. I would cage your cock, but it’s terrified to come out. Can’t say I blame it. You ready to begin your life in hell? Now I would have chosen to die in the cold…. And look there! A semi is slowing down to pull in. You could have been saved by that driver. Your loss. My gain. Let’s go.”

[lo-frequency]

Bakusquad + Todoroki Pet Headcanons!

Just some hc’s of what pets I think the boys would have and how they’d treat them. This is definitely a crack post 💀

Bakugou

-A bulldog, named Killer. Killer the Great Explosion Murder Dog to be exact.

-He’s an all white bulldog with a little spike collar around his neck. The alternative is a collar with a fake grenade attached, usually used when Bakugou takes him out in public.

-Killer also has a harness with the little flare attachments on each side like on Bakugou’s mask.

-Despite his name (and what Bakugou wants you to believe), Killer is as sweet as they come. “C’mere, Killer!” Bakugou calls him, smacking his leg and you’re expecting this absolute menace to come charging down the hall. Instead, Killer’s stocky self comes trotting out of Bakugou’s room with his tongue hanging out of his mouth and his lil’ tail nub wagging.

-Bakugou’s like “I’ve been training him to be an attack dog” and Killer only runs like a few feet from the house before stopping, opting to lay down and roll over for a belly rub.

-Don’t be fooled by all his tough talk, Bakugou most certainly spoils Killer, that’s exactly why he’s so lazy. His days consist of begging for treats and pretending not to understand Bakugou’s instructions. Not to mention that he has a big, memory foam dog bed, gets fed real food, and Katsuki takes him for 2 walks a day, everyday.

-Pats him roughly, but Killer is one of those dogs who likes slaps on the butt so he doesn’t mind lol. They play rough too, and at any given time Bakugou can be found rolling around the floor, play wrestling with Killer.

-Imagine if he posted tiktoks of Killer and people started trolling him like “Killer is slow, my dog can run faster than him” “Killer is overweight” “He can’t even run down the street”

-Bakugou truly believes Killer can do everything he says about him, and gets offended if you even insinuate otherwise. He would get mad at all the haters in the comments, clapping back at them like “I know you’re not talking with that lil’ rat dog in your profile pic” and he’d challenge them to races in the local dog parks so he can defend Killer’s reputation 💀. Well, one person actually accepted so now Bakugou has to train Killer for his first race.

-And then when he posts videos of him and Killer exercising, people are like “You’re pushing him too hard” “Poor Killer” “Stop forcing him to exercise” He just can’t win 🤷🏾‍♀️.

-Denki comes over and exposes him like “Killer’s been training alright, training his jaws” while filming Bakugou passing Killer food under the table.

-“Where’s Killer?” “He’s training in the pool right now.” “In the pool? Dude, you know bulldogs can’t swim, right?” “Well my Killer swims all the time!” And his friends rush to his backyard to see Killer lazily paddling around Bakugou’s pool with a floaty fitted on his little body lol.

-Killer loves him some Katsuki. He would be so clingy with him, following him everywhere he goes in the house, to the point where Bakugou has almost tripped over Killer several times. He has to close the door or put a baby gate up so he won’t interrupt him and all you hear in the background is Killer howling at the door.

-Killer fan cams, lmaoo

-Katsuki goes live and all people are asking about is Killer, and all the donations are “Killer’s Treat Fund” “Feed Killer on Camera” “Give him a belly rub”

-Bakugou never should’ve showed Killer on social media, it’s his account now 💀

Todoroki

-I can see Shoto with beta fish, but he wouldn’t know that you can’t put two males in the same tank.

-So one day, he comes home from work and sees that one of his fish is,,,not alive.

-Shoto quickly puts two and two together after seeing that the other beta fish is a little injured too, and he is absolutely horrified.

-After he cleans up the mess, he just looks at the survivor fish. Shoto can’t help but feel contempt toward him. He’s a murderer, he killed his other fish.

-From then on, Shoto does not like the survivor fish. He still takes care of him, but out of duty as his owner, only 😒.

-People on social media ask him what his fish’s name is. “He doesn’t have a name.”

-And then he makes a post like “Some of you have asked me why my fish doesn’t have a name. It’s because I don’t like him. He’s a murderer.” (Y’all, please 💀)

-People start calling him Killer Fish and Bakugou comments that there can only be one Killer, and that’s his dog.

Kirishima

-A turtle. He’d have one of those turtles with the raised horns/spikes on its shell and his name would be Tank.

-So Kiri thinks Tank the Turtle is the toughest little dude around, and often posts videos of him swimming or walking around outside.

-He’s like “You know, I think he’s faster than most turtles.” “How do you know that?” He shrugs, watching Tank with a grin “I can just tell, I mean look at him, he’s going!” And Tank is chugging along the ground at a good .002 mph.

-He’d have Tank on his back as he does push ups or on his chest as he lifts weights. “What number are we on Tank? 100? Alright, 100 more to go!”

-Kiri would make videos of Tank doing tricks, like knocking down a wall of tiny styrofoam bricks or climbing over a little ramp he made. He’s cheering for him the whole time, and he gets a treat after. “That was so manly, Tank!! Good boy!”

-Yes, a turtle can be manly too.

Denki

-A guinea pig, mostly blonde except a little black mark on her head, just like Denki. And you guessed it…he named her Pikachu.

-Denki is enamored with her for the first couple days, carrying her everywhere with him and constantly posting her on his social media. He couldn’t wait to get home from work so he could play with her and feed her little bits of lettuce.

-She seems to adore him too, hardly moving when he pets her so she can maximize his attention as much as possible, and jumping on his lap whenever he takes her out of the cage.

-He holds her up to the camera like “What can I say? The ladies love me. Isn’t that right, Pikachu?”

-She’s so cute that he doesn’t question how her cage seems to pop open by itself sometimes, or how she sometimes nios at his fingers if he holds her for too long.

-The unfortunate truth is that Pikachu cannot stand Denki 💀. Idk what he did, maybe it’s the way he smells, maybe it’s his voice, idk, but she is trying her best to stay away from him.

-The cage doesn’t pop open by itself, Pikachu has figured out how to escape, so now Denki regularly comes home to an empty cage and he has to track her down to put her back.

-“Day 3 of missing Pikachu. This is what come home to everyday, guys” and he flips the camera to show bits of food and guinea pig droppings scattered all over the place. Her little squeaks haunt him at night, but he knows he won’t be able to find her.

-He has such a hard time finding her, and he swears she teases him by squeaking nearby, then running somewhere he can’t get her.

-He’s on live and people try to give him advice but none of it works. Pikachu rushes past the screen behind him and they tell him to look. Denki abandons his live to chase after Pikachu and you just hear crashing and yelling in the background.

-When he comes back, he’s in his ‘fried’ mode and people are like wtf happened 💀

-He managed to put her back in the cage, but he had to end the live early.

(Can y’all imagine being jealous of a guinea pig? 😔) Thanks for tuning in! :)

[ramzawrites]

IronGolem!Hybrid!Reader - Protector - Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Male

Pairings: none

Characters included: Quackity, Fundy, Tubbo, Punz, Technoblade, Philza, Dream

Warnings: blood, character death, cursing

Series: Part of my Iron Golem request series! 💙

Summary: Y/N helped the Butcher Army to escort Techno towards his trial only for this trial to turn into a surprise execution. An execution that finally gives Y/N the chance to flee that he was so desperately looking for, all along. Even if others had to push him towards this opening.

Words count: 2684

Authors Note: Woops I thought this would be the last part but there will be a part 4 after all o7

As they begun moving Techno followed along quietly. Never pulling on the chains, just dutifully following behind Y/N. His eyes mostly trained on the horse that Quackity was now riding.

They walked back to where they left their horses and got back up on theirs. Y/N got Quackity’s horse and let Techno on it, leading that horse along as he rode his own black steed. Sometimes petting his horse, his rough hands weaving through the long black mane, more as a way to calm himself down rather than the horse.

Riding between Quackity who was at the front while both Fundy and Tubbo stayed at Techno’s side while Ranboo stayed at the end of the group. Ensuring that Techno didn’t try anything too stupid.

Throughout the whole ride Fundy and Quackity began taunting Techno, Tubbo would occasionally chime in as well while both Y/N and Ranboo stayed quiet.

It surprised Y/N a bit that Techno actually responded to some taunts with his own snide remarks that would usually shut the other party up, for a short moment at least. He certainly had his wits about him.

Y/N couldn’t help but look up to Technoblade in a sense. He himself was escorted away in a similar manner but other than Techno, he immediately gave up and just followed along with his captors. Not even saying a word against them and while Techno did follow them along as well, he still talked back, made them feel stupid about their own thoughtless comments.

And Y/N enjoyed the frustrated exclamations of the group whenever Techno made one of his targeted comments. This was not a good situation for the warrior but he kept his dignity and a part of control and power in this situation.

Technoblade was strong and Y/N was not.

No, Y/N was weak willed and naïve. He should have fought more. Tried to escape or tried to send along a message to his home, to his people. Should have asked Ranboo to maybe check up on the town, after all he seemed to be the most reasonable one of the group but he didn’t. He was too scared and just gave up. What kind of protector was he?

Then again, he couldn’t fight, and he had to work with what he can do. Sometimes staying alive was the best and even most rebellious thing someone can do. Maybe if he was just patient enough, he would find a chance to flee! Though whenever this thought crossed his mind he feared that he had missed his one chance already due to his cowardice.

It didn’t take long for them to reach L’Manberg. Getting off the horses to walk back into the town middle. Y/N still holding the chains that were keeping Techno’s wrists bound.

As they walked further into the town, they passed Philza’s home.

The winged man stood on his upper balcony, staring down with a cold expression “You actually got him.”

“Get inside! You are on house arrest!” Tubbo just yelled back as an answer but Techno turned to face his friend, pulling on the chains in the process. Y/N pulled them back again, scared with what could happen next.

“Phil! Phil! What did they do to you!”

Fundy got his axe back out and pushed the flat side against Techno side, urging him to keep on going. This unspoken threat seemed to be enough for him to ignore his old friend and instead continued to follow Y/N who in return followed Quackity and Tubbo.

Though as Y/N pulled his gaze away from Philza, he could see a fond softness in his eyes. Worry mixed with anger. It was the first time he saw genuine emotion on his face, rather than the forced smiles he portrayed usually.

“Lead him up there, keep the chains around his wrists in there and stand close by.” Tubbo ordered the Iron Golem Hybrid, pointing at what looked like a cage right beneath a strange structure that Y/N couldn’t immediately make out what it was for.

But there was a foreboding feeling in the air.

Y/N opened up the door and without a word Techno just walked inside. The gate crashed shut again.

He could finally let go off the chain that he held on to. Dropping it as soon as he could. But the feeling of disgust stayed or maybe it was guilt. Maybe a mix. The less he thought about it the better, so instead Y/N just concentrated on Tubbo who begun a speech.

What kind of trials does L’Manberg have?

This wasn’t really a trial was it?

“Hey, Y/N, right?”

Y/N didn’t respond but stared at Techno from the corners of his eyes. Why was he talking to him? How should he react? Should he even react? Would the others hurt him if he visibly reacted?

“I know of you. You were-“

Though Technoblade didn’t finish his sentence. Smoke appeared in front of the stage and a person covered in armor appeared. They wore a white hoodie with netherite armor on top. Not even waiting a beat as they begun to attack the Butcher Army with their axe and crossbow.

Tubbo pulled his shield in front of his face, barely catching the arrow that came flying directly towards his face “Pull the lever, Big Q!”

Lever? What lever?

Even Techno seemed surprised letting out a quite frankly comical confused noise.

There was no hesitation on Quackity’s side. He immediately sprinted towards the structure and pulled the lever. Y/N could see a redstone pulse running up the build.

What the hell was going on?

Technoblade pushed his hands into his pocket, pulling out a small golden figure. Y/N couldn’t see it very well, but he immediately knew what it was.

A totem of undying.

Surprised Y/N stared at Techno only to see something black falling down.

He completely tuned out the sound of the fighting and screaming, his senses concentrated on Technoblade. His eyes directed at the black anvil that was flying with incredible speed down towards the cage.

Before Y/N could properly process what was happening, or the implications of this whole ordeal, the anvil was already on his eye level.

It connected with Techno’s skull with a sickening wet crack, immediately followed by an explosion of green light. It was so bright Y/N had to shield his eyes with his arms. Surprised by the warmth that came off the magic that engulfed Technoblade and revitalized his body. Pulling him away from the land of the dead and stitching his broken body back together.

As fast as the light appeared, it was just as fast gone. Y/N removed his arms and saw Techno jumping off the anvil and over the iron bars.

The man literally, just died but he didn’t waste any time to flee once he had the chance. Was it jealousy or admiration Y/N felt? He didn’t know, either way he was impressed.

While Y/N seemed to be a bit dazed, still trying to process this, Techno used the chance in between the chaos all around them to take a look around only to spot a masked man leading his horse away.

“He has Carl!”

He then proceeded to grab Y/N’s forearm and pulled him along. Techno’s grip was strong and unrelenting. Pressing down uncomfortably on a few burns that were just beginning to heal properly hence why Y/N’s first reaction was to pull his arm away, but the Pig Hybrid was holding on. Not giving him a chance to protest.

Why did Techno do this? Why did he tug him along? He clearly knew of Y/N but how? What did he know?

So, the best option was to follow him, right into a little opening at the side of a hill. Inside there was a room, lined with chests and another opening that seemed to lead into tunnels.

But what really caught Y/N’s attention was the man that held the reigns of Carl. A white porcelain mask with a smiling face hid away his face. A cloak hiding his physique and probably weapons.

Once inside the room Techno let go off Y/N to snarl “Dream, give me Carl.”

This masked man was the infamous Dream? His green hood was pulled up, the mask looked already unsettling but with the added shadow of the hood? As he stared at Y/N it felt like he was sizing him up. As if to wager something out.

Once again Y/N felt incredibly small under someone else’s gaze.

Dream slowly got closer and gave Techno the reigns of Carl “You brought him with you? I’m surprised, Techno.”

Techno walked up to Carl and pressed his forehead against that of the horses as a greeting “I don’t think we have the time to talk about this Dream, besides weren’t you the one trying to get him out of there?”

“Yes, I suppose you are correct. We don’t have the time to talk about this though. You two better get going. There should also be some armor and potions in one of the chests. And Y/N?” Dream turned towards him now “We’ll meet again, I promise you. You will get your revenge.” With that he ran off through the opening that Techno previously pulled Y/N in.

Techno rummaged through one of the chests. Letting out a disappointed sigh as he spotted some iron armor. With trained movements he slipped surprisingly fast into the clunky armor. Fastening it around himself and hooking the potions to his belt.

Hooves clicked on the stone ground as Techno lead Carl towards the tunnels “Not to put too much pressure on you but if you want to get out of this mess you better come with me.” Techno’s eyes rested calmly on Y/N. He was serious and looked like he was calculating something but there was something genuine and almost friendly mixed in.

“I- uh, understood.”

This honestly felt unreal. Like a dream. Though Y/N hasn’t decided yet if this was just another nightmare. It felt like a trap. Too convenient but what could he do? Run back out towards the city? He can’t fight like Dream or Techno, he wouldn’t get the chance to flee. Besides they would just capture him again and he didn’t want to think about how he might be treated afterwards.

His best bet really was with Technoblade but why he would do this for him after he escorted him to his own execution, he didn’t know.

Hell, how did he even know of him?

“Now, Y/N.”

Techno just begun moving into the tunnels. Y/N made sure to stay close. A spark of hope inside his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in ages. Is it okay if he takes this spark and holds it close? Just in case it breaks out into a fire?

Almost as if to answer this question both Techno and Y/N heard a voice coming from behind them. It wasn’t Dream’s. No, Y/N knew this voice too well. It was Quackity. Quackity has found him and would bring him back.

That spark seemed to dim after all.

“What the fuck is this? What is this Techno? How the fuck did that Anvil not kill you? And now you are stealing my things? Stealing my blacksmith?”

Techno let out a cackling laugh as he made sure to stand in front of Y/N. Grasping the hilt of his netherite pickaxe in one of his hands.

“Listen here Quackity. I tried telling you that the root of the problems here was government! I fought alongside you to show you! And you used me! So, I retaliated with force, to prove my point but you still formed a government! After that I was content with getting away from it! I tried to retire! I swore off violence! You still hunted me down! You-“

He moved his head around a bit, looking at Y/N from the corner of his eyes only to snap back to Quackity “You hurt my friends!”

Quackity didn’t seem to have noticed this but Y/N did. Techno referred to Y/N as his friend? He somehow felt like he was missing some vital piece of information. Never in his life has he even talked with him before this. Maybe he really just meant the horse, it stood off to the other side but surely, he must have only meant Carl. Perhaps Philza as well? Yes, those he must have meant. No way did he group Y/N in there as well.

Not after he was the one who escorted Techno away from his peaceful life with chains around his wrists.

Quackity bit down on his lip in anger before he answered “Techno, I don’t care about that. All that I care about is that you are on my hit list.”

“Hit list? What kind of Hit list?”

“I’m building up a nation and this nation needs direction, organization and I swear no matter what it fucking takes me, I will fucking kill you.”

Once again Techno laughed “Quackity, do you really think you are enough to kill me? Even unarmored and only in iron armor?”

At this point Y/N was straight up jealous at Techno’s confidence and cockiness. He would have just cowered in fear, given up but Techno did not. He stood strong, calm. Like a boulder between turbulent waters.

That spark that seemed to dim inside of him seemed to flare up again. If he just stayed close to Techno and trusted in him, maybe he is allowed to hope. Just this once.

Obviously Quackity tried to stay calm and collected beforehand but this seemed to push him over the edge “So be it! I’ll fucking kill you right here and now!”

He immediately took his axe out and jumped towards Techno who confidently blocked the attack with his pickaxe. With a simple twist of his arm and body, he hooked Quackity weapon with his own and then used his whole body to pull it out of his hands.

The axe flew through the air, landing with a loud clanging on the ground in front of Y/N. He didn’t think much about it as he slowly stretched his hand out and grabbed it. Holding the weapon close to himself. Seeing how he couldn’t fight, this weapon would be useless in his hands but at least he could ensure that Quackity didn’t pick it up again.

It was the first time he rebelled against him. It was the first time he took some sort of control over this situation. He did not give up. He did something.

As he looked up he could see a shocked Quackity.

“I only have this pickaxe, Quackity, but I’ll put it through your teeth!”

There was this bloodlust to his words. A malice that Y/N expected from Techno before he met him. As his only idea of him was that what the butcher army told him.

He realized that their stories relied on a kernel of truth though in this moment he wasn’t scared of this Techno. No, he saw pain, self-preservation and conviction in his actions right now.

Quackity evaded one of Techno’s attacks only for his second to hit. Hitting his open mouth with the pickaxe and dragging it across his face. Resulting in Quackity to fall down motionless. Blood spilling to the ground as his body slowly dissolved into gold dust. He was respawning.

Technoblade just took Quackity’s first life. Just like that. It went over so fast. Like it was nothing.

Without seemingly missing a beat he turned around to look Y/N dead in the eyes, now calm again “We need to go. Now. I’ll explain everything to you once we are safe. I promise.”

He didn’t even wait for an answer and instead begun leading Carl through the tunnel again.

Y/N took a second to stare at the dissolving Quackity only for Techno to pull him back out of his thoughts “Y/N!”

“Why are you helping me. Just- Just tell me this. I’ll follow you, I promise, but I need to know.”

Techno sighed “Because how couldn’t we? How can you see injustice and not do anything?”

____

Tag: @plaguedoctorsnake

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidentally Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 8 | I  think my guest celebrity taste tester may have something to do with.

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  This is the last chapter!  Thank you for sticking around! I maybe bring these two back for more adventures. 

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: With feelings revealed and reciprocated, Tom and Molly move ahead in their relationship. Happily ever after?

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

--

Tom called Chris later that day and made apologies.

“Nah, man. I was out of line. Just wanted a bit of what you and Molly have. She’s a great girl.”

“She is. The best. No hard feelings?”

“Buy me a beer the next we meet?”

“I’ll buy you two. Thanks for understanding.”

“Just don’t tell Robert. I would never hear the end of it.”

“Of course. Now I have some things to attend to.”

“Tell Molly I have to raincheck on lunch. Sounds like she has more important things to do. “

Tom just smiled.

-

Three Months Later

“It’s so nice to have all you here.” Diana gazed around the table. “Emma, would you be a dear and clear the plates?”

Emma caught Tom’s eye, and he quickly got up. Molly choked on a roasted potato.

“I’ll take care of it, Mum.” Tom grabbed several dishes and disappeared into the kitchen.

Molly leaned over to Emma. “You know if you keep blackmailing Tom into doing all the chores around your mum, he’s going to keep being her favorite.”

“Tom!” Emma popped up as Molly smirked. “I’ll help too.” She jogged off to the kitchen to help.

“So what are you doing these days, darling? I noticed you haven’t had as much time for lunch.”

“I have been busy cooking.” Tom walked back in and Molly pulled him in for a kiss. “Tom suggested it.”

Tom sat back down and pulled Molly close to him. “Your food is too good not to share with the world, love.” Tom’s stubble tickled her cheek as he nuzzled in.

“Stop it!” She playfully smacked his chest. “It’s just a blog and an Instagram account. Nothing fancy.”

“You are too modest. An Instagram with over 500,000 followers. That is quite the accomplishment.”

“I think my guest celebrity taste tester may have something to do with.” Molly booped Tom’s nose. “In fact, I suspect you pushed for the Instagram account so you don’t have to update your own.”

Tom blushed. “You know I don’t care for the spotlight.”

Emma scoffed. “Lies. You are a grade A drama queen, Thomas.”

“Not anymore. Give me the quiet domestic life.” Molly leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Good.” Diana said. “Then next week’s dinner is at your house.”

“I can do that.” Molly responded. “I need some more guinea pigs.”

“Then it’s settled.” Diana smiled.

Tom whispered in Molly’s ear. “Should we tell them now?”

Molly nodded eagerly.

“Tell us what?” Emma’s head darted around. “The two of you aren’t pregnant, are you?” She squealed.

“Our family is expanding. We..” Molly said.

“Are…” Tom continued.

“Getting a Dog!” Molly finished.

“Well, it’s no grandchild, but a start.” Diana smiled.

“And the other surprise is…” Molly spied up at Tom.

“We’re getting married!” Tom waved his hands in the air. Emma and Diana stared at them. “What no celebration?”

“Well dear, it just that… aren’t you two already married?” Diana commented.

“We are but…” Tom nudged Molly.

“We realized that none of our friends and family were there to celebrate with us, so we decided to renew our vows.”

Diana clapped her hands together. “Oh, that is lovely, dears. A proper ceremony and reception.”

“I thought you would like that, Mother.” Tom added.

“You were right, Thomas. Now Molly, I realize you don’t have any family here, but if you’ll let I would love to help you with preparations, just your mother would.”

Molly sniffled. “I would like that very much. Thank you.”

“I’ll help too!” Emma added. “I love shopping.”

“Lord help my bank account.” Tom groaned.

-

They got back home late and Molly leaned against the door.

“That was a long day.” she sighed, dropping her purse to the ground. Tom caged her against the door. He nuzzled into her neck. “Tom, your whiskers tickle!” She squealed.

Tom kissed wet, sloppy kisses along her neck. “Then stop me.” He purred into her, hooking one of her legs around his waist. “You know my mum makes a good point.” His hands teased her shirt up and slipped underneath, caressing her warm skin.

“What was that?” She arched her back into his touch, reaching behind to grip his ass with both hands.

“We really should give her a grandchild….” Tom squeezed her breasts over her bra. “A little boy or girl with your eyes and my hair.” Tom muttered, rocking his hips against her.

“Not right now, but that doesn’t mean we can’t practice?” Her eyes twinkled.

“I like practice.” Tom lifted her up and carried Molly to their bedroom.

-

They set out the next day to the local animal shelter to pick out a dog. Molly was certain Tom would want a big dog, a golden retriever, or a Labrador.

“Because I’m a human golden retriever?” Tom questioned.

“Something like that.” Molly giggled. “Except I don’t have to leash you out in public.”

“Naughty, darling.” Tom nipped at her as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Only because your mind is in the gutter.”

They walked along the corridor of cages. Molly pointed out a setter, but Tom shrugged it off.

“I’ll know our dog when I see it.”

Molly and Tom rejected each dog as they passed, along with Molly pleaded for one in particular.

“But this little guy looks just like Chris’s dog, Dodger!” Molly pleaded.

Tom furrowed his brow. “Is that supposed to convince me to say yes?”

“Yes?” Molly asked hopefully. “I thought you two made up.”

“We did, but it doesn’t mean I want a dog just like his.”

“Fine.” Molly leaned down and patted the dog’s head. “Sorry, buddy. I tried.”

Tom spun around, arms wide. “Maybe we should go to another place, love?”

“We’re not done yet.” She shoved him down the way. “I have a feeling our dog is here.”

They finally made it to the last stall where a small brown ball of fur lay in the corner.

“Hey buddy.” Molly called out.

The puppy’s head popped up, and he trotted over, floppy ears and all.

“He’s a spaniel, Tom.” Molly commented as the puppy licked her hand. “And friendly too.”

“Oh, I like him.” Tom leaned down and extended his hand. He was rewarded with a copious amount of licks. “I like him a lot.”

“Is he the one?” Molly gazed up at Tom, who was smiling at the dog. She recognized that look, often been the recipient of that look.

“I think he is, darling.” Tom hugged her tight. “Definitely.”

They went to fill out the paperwork as they brought the puppy out.

“And what are we naming this little guy?” they asked as the puppy was handed over to Tom, with his too big paws for his body. The puppy caught Tom’s face with his tongue.

“I’ve always liked the named Bobby. What do you think?”

Molly scratched the puppy’s head. “Bobby. I like that. You ready to head home, Bobby?”

Bobby responded by barking.

“I’ll take that a yes.” Tom added. “He appears to be quite vocal.”

Molly groaned. “Just what I need, another Hiddleston male to yell at me.”

Tom leaned over to kiss Molly. “I promise never to yell at you again. And we can put Bobby in obedience school.”

Bobby barked again as Tom leaned over again and kissed Molly passionately.

“Perhaps you are the one in need of obedience school, Mr. Hiddleston.” she smirked.

“Only if you are my teacher, Mrs. Hiddleston.” Tom smirked right back.

[ankhsu]

My thought on chap 139 and SNK.

It couldn’t end otherwise. And it is the perfect ending. When I read it a few hours ago, I was truly amazing by its (inter) connexion. I could talk for hours. And I’ll go for weeks. But here is my first thoughts.

1) the cycle of hate / you are free ...

Where does all this hate come from? Who started it? No one really know. Some where slaves for no reasons, some were hangmen for many years. Violence and power were ruling everything. And one day a little slave, a little girl looking at pigs caged like her decided to open a door. She was dreaming of freedom. Her head was full of desires : she loves, and she wanted to be loved ... she wanted to count for someone, envious of the happiness of others, she felt in love for a monster. Was it love ? It was for her and she did everything for it, for him. Even after her monster death she stayed there. She stayed despite everything, despite all the suffering Eldiens (her children) were facing.

But her choice created more despair and someday a man with a desire as strong as her own made a move.

Grisha hated so hard the world he was living in. He has suffering so much from his sister’s death that he swore to get freedom by any means necessary. His desire was so strong that without knowing it, he put a death sentence upon his two son’s head

« You’re free » ... that’s what he told to Eren and it was the last time his new born son was free indeed

By saying it, Eren has been charged with the sin of his father...

He told it to his father

ZeKe was right and wrong. Eren wasn’t brainwashed, he became the incarnation of a desire, the victim of something bigger than him as soon as he get the founder, and his father realized that he was himself a victime of his own desire.

Inside of the path past and future coexists. How hard it must have been for Grisha to see it with any power to change it. I can’t help but think about his own father ... maybe it’s a duty of a father to crumble down while face your future past sins inside of the eyes of your children.

Still Eren has to keep moving. He has to open the door to the little Eldiens pigs like Ymir did, to become a monster like her cause in doing so maybe she’ll get the answer she never stop looking for : does monster deserve to be love ? What’s the meaning of love ? He also has to keep moving to answer to his father’s desire : freedom for all of us. Keep moving no matter what! Cause Eren was no more a human being, he wasn’t free anymore. He became a tool trap inside the path. Prisoner of Grisha’s love for Freedom, of Ymir’s love for a ghost

2) Mikasa ... the chosen one...

Mikasa’s fate sounds like a curse. Ginger are kissed by fire, Mikasa is kissed by death since her birth. She’s linked to him/it since the beginning. And by him I mean Eren. In lost girl, the faceless man said that no matter what Eren would die. In Snk it feels odd to see a little boy knowing exactly how to find her, saying her name while it wasn’t mentioned before (cf Mikasa memories in SNK S04/S01). All along it feels off to hear him shout out « I’ll wrap it again and again for ever » as if he had done it before, done it a million time at once. A shout out from the path.

It was a cry from a man who is a prisoner and can only dream of some place elsewhere.

But because she was in love with a cursed monster, and because he was cursed to be the monster loved and in love, she would’ve to be the one facing Ymir’s trial.

Most readers would have failed. I have seen so many of them lost faith after the infamous « I hate slave », I saw them bashing all over, no one but her stayed.

Now we know. Did eren wanted it ? Nope. But he has to do it. Cause he’s just a toy, moving on purpose. Crying for reasons, dreaming for their home. The one that was ripped from them since the beginning of their life by others desire.

5) Ymir’s desire ?

She wanted to know and she did known. Despite everything, a monster could still remains a human being and despite everything someone can still love him.

There is another lesson hidden. A lesson she has to learn. To love someone, to truly love someone is being capable to let him go even if it means being lonely, and being sad. Ymir refused death. She created Titans for her people to help them to meet again inside their path. But by doing so they became monsters. Halu gave her power to transcend death, to evolve, but this is not what living means. And only Ackerman remember what was that meaning.

But the price ... lord Ymir goes ... but now Mikasa is the one sitting under the tree 2000 years after looking at those little Eldiens pigs who are now free. And the monster who had made too bad things despite all his good heart will be sentenced to pay his debts : he will look forever at his home, haunted the woman he loves the most but never will he reach his desire burning by those of others.

It remains me a story of a mermaid from the north of Europe.

The story starts talking about a woman in love with a fisherman. Everytime he went out, before vanished he used to ask her to wait for him by the pier. And she did it. But came a trip when she waited for him months with no sign of him. Slowly she came to an understanding of his death. So out of despair she cursed the sea « my husband is dead, you take it from me bring me back my love. I’d do anything ». The night after , a old man arrived and talked to her about a way to get him back at the full moon. She was so happy that she thanked him and forgot to ask him more. She only did as he said. « Enter into the sea and pray... ». She hasn’t to wait long before the boat and her fisherman went back. And as soon as he walked on earth He started looking for her everywhere; yelling her name out loud. Every time she answered « I’m here » but when she tried to grabbed him she failed. She cried, why she kept asking. Then , the old man appears and told her that that was the price : a life for a life. She will see him as long as she will stay as a mermaid, but as soon as she will put a foot on the sand he will die. So she spent the rest of her life looking at her fisherman waiting for her by the pier crying to see her one last time, cursing the sea ... she was hoping a life for him, for them... did she succeed ? Was there a chance ?

[13uswntimagines]

Pretty Girl (Christen x Reader)

Request: Christen and reader go to the zoo and reader either works with animals or is just a huge nerd and literally obsess over the animals and christen kinda just falls for her even more

Author’s Note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog​! 

You were in your element and Christen was living for it. While she had always been adept at soccer, Animals and Biology were your specialties. You looked so cute in your little safari outfit, and Christen couldn’t help but drop by when she was in town to surprise you, and take one of your legendary tours. Tobin, who had been unlucky enough to be sharing a car with the woman, followed along behind her, not sure how she felt about being dragged along on this excursion. 

“Now if you come over here you can meet Darth Vader!” You said excitedly, pointing to one of the clear cages on the wall, taking a step towards it. 

“He’s a black rat snake, and look at him use the force of his muscles to climb up his exhibit wall. Gravity-defying right? Now do any of you kids know anything about snakes?” You addressed the group of kindergarteners assembled in front of you, listening attentively as some of them piped up about snakes they had seen (and you wholeheartedly ignored the burning gaze of the only two soccer players in the group). 

Most of them got closer to the glass to look at your favorite reptile, but there were always a few who took went to hide behind their moms, who had a tendency to call your snakes either “scary” or “gross.

“The pretty girl on the right is a Ball Python named Snickers,” You smiled, stepping towards the glass. “She’s almost 20 years old, which is the upper end of the lifespan of her species. Though ball python populations are growing rapidly in areas of Florida, they’re actually indigenous to west and central Africa. They’re what we call invasive species- species that invade the habitat and can eat other species that are natural to areas of the Everglades,” You shook your head sadly. “That’s why it’s very important to never release a pet into the wild. It can decrease the quality of their lives but also really hurt native species that are already there” Stupid people releasing pets they should have never had, destroying the environment. 

“Did your girlfriend just call a reptile a pretty girl? Isn’t that her nickname for you?” Tobin joked, nudging Christen’s ribs with her elbow. Christen felt her cheeks turn a little pink. 

“No, I’m superstar,” Christen mumbled, glaring at the chill middy. 

“Hmm, it’s cute how into them she is though,” Tobin smiled. It was amazing how much you lit up around the animals, even if it was a little weird when you called slithery things pretty. You were kinda like Steve Erwin she guessed. 

“You don’t get a Ph. D. if you’re not interested,” Christen laughed, and Tobin nodded. No one wrote a 50-page dissertations on things that bored them. 

“Can you take the guinea pigs out today?” The little girl with pink pigtails looked so hopeful, you almost felt bad that you had to say no. Except that you hated the guinea pigs.

“Sorry I wish I could, but this is the guinea pigs’ day off today.” You saw your coworker Jenni come in and waved her over. “Also my shift just ended. But Jenni here can tell you about anything else in the exhibit you’re curious about!” 

You disentangled yourself from the crowd of youngsters and made your way over to your girlfriend, standing on tiptoe to give her a quick peck on the cheek. “Hey superstar.” 

“Hey, do I finally get your undivided attention?” Christen asked, pulling you into her arms and kissing your lips. You smiled, showing off your dimples as you nodded quickly. 

“Good luck with that around all these… what did you call them? Pretty girls?” Tobin said, facetiously, smirking as she leaned against the wall. She jumped, as a thump sounded behind her. The animal house didn’t have any solid walls, and instead featured glass enclosure. 

“Oh shit, that’s just Milo, he’s kind of an attention whore,” You laughed, pointing to the 36 inch blue racer that had just fallen from his branch to the bottom of the enclosure. 

“He’s gorgeous,” Christen marbled at the bright blue snake, 

“Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll get a big head,” You smirked at your girlfriend, unable to maintain the serious expression. 

“He’s a snake. They don’t have feelings,” Tobin scoffed, watching as Milo flicked his tongue at her. 

“You just say that because you haven’t met him yet. I have held many a snake and let me tell you, Milo is positively clingy!” 

“Yeah, no thanks,” Tobin started to say, but then Christen piped up. “That’s a great idea! We would love to meet Milo in person, Y/N!” She continued smiling as Tobin elbowed her in the side, and you caught the wicked glint in her eyes. 

“You know, it just so happens that he’s on the schedule for interaction today!” You smiled giddily at your girlfriend, dancing in place for a second before flipping through your keys for Milo’s enclosure. 

“Hey pretty boy, wanna say hi? I got some nice people that really wanna meet you and pet your beautiful scales,” You said, stroking his neck a few times to get his attention. The snake slowly began moving forward, encouraged by your warm, steady hands and you carefully picked him up and set him on your shoulders to support his spine. 

“I thought your girlfriend was a Gryffindor. Aren’t Slytherins the ones who can talk to snakes?” Tobin whispered, using your girlfriend as a shield from the snake. 

“That’s a common misconception. It’s heirs of Slytherin who can talk to snakes, but who's to say that all of Slytherin’s descendants would choose to be there?” You smiled sideways at the woman, not quite taking your attention from the blue noodle wrapping around your wrist. 

“If you come closer you can see his scales shimmer in the light. He just shed last week, so they’re really pretty right now.” 

Christen took a slow step towards you, looking more at your loving gaze than at Milo. It was incredible how calm he was with you, and the care you clearly had for him. 

“Gorgeous,” She said, her fingers coming up to just barely fun her fingers over the cold reptile. He brought his head up to stare in her direction. She froze. 

“It’s alright Chris. He’s just checking you out,” You hummed, lifting the snake slightly and bringing him within reach of your girlfriend if he wanted to go to her. “Can you blame him? They don’t call them foxii for nothing,”

“You say that like he isn’t contemplating how long he would have to starve himself to eat you both,”

“Sounds like you’ve been reading too many clickbait articles. Actually blue racers are foragers, not active hunters,” You raised your eyebrows at the clearly terrified midfielder, feeling comfortable enough with Christen watching Milo to take your eyes off of him. “But I’ll put him back if he makes you feel uncomfortable.”

You brought Milo back to the door of his enclosure, waiting for him to decide he wanted to head back in and being careful to unwind him from your nametag (he always liked to play in your lanyard), he flicked his tongue at you and you took it as a thanks for patently untangling his tail. You locked up the door before standing up straight. 

 You took your girlfriend’s hand and began to lead her from the room. “Come on, lets go to the insectary, I know the gal who works there will let us hold Dot if we ask nicely.”

“Who’s Dot?”

“A super adorable curly-haired tarantula,” you said, grinning, intentionally not looking behind you to see the source of the gagging noise. 

“Why can’t you think normal things are cute like giraffes or elephants or like literally anything else,” Tobin huffed, crossing her arms. She should have listened to Sonnet when she warned her about visiting you at the zoo. At least you hadn’t tried to introduce her to Spike the giant snapping turtle. 

“You’re mean,” you said, turning to stick your tongue out at Tobin over your shoulder. 

“Well I think you’re cute, so I think that makes up for it,” Christen smirked. Sure, you liked the less conventional animals, but seeing you with them made her fall for you just a little bit more.

“I love you,” You melted, leaning in and kissing your girlfriend softly.

“Love you too babe. Now let’s go get me introduced to Dot,”

[writingstarling]

Comfort in You

Adrien needed to get out. He curled deeper into himself as the walls chased down to cage him like a determined hunter.

It was a trick of the mind, he knew. He knew his room was spacious enough to support a relatively large apartment. That it would be impossible for him to be closed in.

He knew. But his brain couldn’t process that.

Today wasn’t what Adrien would call a good day—and he certainly had better. Just thinking of it sent him into a spiral of his own thoughts.

The air in his room were lego blocks he's forced to inhale. Smothering his nostrils in full force. And was it just him or was the ground starting to sway?

“Breathe,” a voice brought him back to reality. Adrien didn’t even notice he was holding his breath.

He had to calm down. Gain his head back.

Breathe, Agreste. Just like the article said, 4 7 8. Inhale through the nose for 4. Hold it for 7. Exhale through the mouth for 8, Adrien did as so.

You’re alright, you’re okay. Just calm down and you can get out of here!

Somehow he had managed. His surroundings were clearing up. The walls didn’t look like they were about to collapse on him anymore. The air filtering through his nostrils lightened in weight.

He was fine.

“Fine” was an overstatement really. He was far from it as it is.

But in his situation and for argument’s sake, “fine” would fit in nicely.

Exhaling one last shaky breath, Adrien fixed eye contact with his furry companion and smiled.

“Thanks, Plagg. I needed that.”

The black cat rubbed his cheek against his chosen’s. Not for long though. Despite appearances, Plagg had a reputation to keep. He couldn’t let Tikki make fun of him!

Plagg did loops in the air before favouring a spot in front of his chosen. His flipper like hands poised on his waist and a sly smirk played on his lips.

“So, you ready to break out of this place?”

Adrien mirrored his smirk with a fresh new glint in his eyes, “Plagg, claws out!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life had been considerably unpredictable for Marinette. With her secret life as a superhero and the sudden debut of a supposed supervillain—or magical terrorist with the ability to grant people magical powers through the aid of butterflies, Marinette had thought that she was beginning to gain the capability to be unfazed by the unexpected. That with all the bizzare events in her life she became acquainted with it.

Apparently she was wrong.

Never had she expected for a certain cat—or perhaps Chat to be perched on her veranda. It rattled her at first. Chat’s last visit had been... interesting, to put it nicely. It wasn’t his fault per se, nevertheless the escalating events left a bad taste in her father regarding the cat themed hero. The bad blood died down, but finding the very person that broke your daughter’s heart on your balcony would certainly summon a very irresistible impulse to jettison him; and Marinette really didn’t want to explain to Paris why one of their heroes managed to become roadkill near her bakery (the suit would probably protect him, but Marinette did not want to take that chance).

That put aside, Marinette shuffled under her sole protector from peering—or in this case, Chat Noir’s eyes. A hand stationed at her trapdoor as her eyes spied on her partner.

His back faced her as he surveyed the city; his cat ears were flat on his tousled gold locks while he hummed a song Marinette became familliar with as “Little Cat on The Roof”. Her lips twitched into a knowing frown.

Being partners for so long they were bound to notice habits the other owned. At the moment, it was Chat’s occasional croons. Marinette recognised the song as Chat's solace. A safe haven achieved by focusing on the assortment of melodies the song offered. She came to the conclusion that her kitty was distressed; presumably due to family circumstances.

Marinette weighted her odds. It didn’t seem like Chat had noticed her yet—which was good. She hadn’t known what action to take. On the one hand, it would be wise to not nose around and let him solve it in his own time. But on the other hand, seeing him lack his usual jubilant and bright attitude sent a jab to her heart.

She wanted to help. To be of service to him like the terrible jokes and over the top shenanigans he did for her. No matter how stubborn she was to clung to her sour mood, he would do almost everything that came to mind to alleviate her spirits. She wanted to do the same for him.

“Marinette?”

The mentioned girl tensed before sighing internally. She knew she was bound to be spotted (HA!) somehow, though she did wish it would be from her own volition rather than a slip aided by Chat’s observation skills. Marinette didn’t loiter on that thought longer and pulled herself up. Red bloomed on her cheeks as the crisp autumn air caressed her skin while embarrassment added an even darker shade of red.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to spy,” she found great interest in the floor as her fingers busied themselves by connecting and disconnecting themselves, stealing peeks as she did.

She expected, hoped, for him to take the chance to chaff her of having an infatuation on him or alleging her of being stunted by his self-proclaimed dashing looks (Marinette has thrown herself into a spiral of denial), albeit begrudgingly. She had, because if he did—there lied a glimmer of hope that it would be easier to buoy her partner. Chat, however, had other plans in mind.

Chat offered her a smile. Impeccably centered and hollow like a well crafted porcelain doll, “It’s okay, it was rude of me to steal your balcony.”

Internally Marinette cringed at the sight. Her stomach wrapped itself in knots of discomfort. It reminded her of the smile Adrien would plaster whenever Chloe or Lila claimed possession of him. That night Marinette vowed that she would never let that smile abide on either boys ever again.

“It’s all right,” she spoke as her feet planted herself next to him.

A pregnant pause held them hostage. Both fearful of breaking the fragile semblance of peace between them despite the mutually felt inquietude.

“So,” Marinette threaded with rightfully earned prudence. Voice soft and light like footsteps on thin ice.

“...So...”

“I have some croissants.”

Finally a piece of her kitty came to light in the form of a grin on his lips and a glint in his eyes.

“You would indulge this poor stray to the finest pastries in the world? Truly, you are the most a-meow-zing purr-incess in the world!”

Marinette fought the giggle bubbling in her throat with no success before sending him a playful glare coupled by a smirk that flourished nothing but friskiness, “Careful now, those awful puns might just cost you.”

Chat’s hand sought his heart above the magical leather suit as an overly inflated gasp found freedom from his peach pink lips.

“How could you Purr-incess! My puns are widely ad-mew-tted to be fur-ry paw-esome,” he retaliated, voice brimmed with feigned smugness.

Snacks and chagrins were soon forgotten as they fell into an easy rhythm of banter. Jabs aimed to Chat’s puns would immediately be reciprocated with a flimsy defense along with an additional pun. Each one personally designed to perturb her further into submission. But despite it, Marinette couldn’t brush away the warmth buzzing through her entire body as they went back and forth. The once brisk air nipping at her skin replaced by a fervour akin to a hug from a dear friend.

After a particularly long laughter from both parties as Chat had finally managed to delivered a humorous pun - “EXCUSE mew Purr-incess, my puns are always funny!” - they settled in another lapse of silence. Consisted of feather lightness and melodic sweetness.

The city was exceptionally beautiful, they had agreed. Perhaps it was due to the occurrence of a full moon, offering the city a better lighting to its beauty; perhaps it was the fiery orange lining the streets with its playful gradient; or perhaps the most immediately discarded thought in their heads, the company they had.

It was a territory they never dared to venture. A land littered with minefields yet to be discovered, yet to explode with much more uncertainty and a set of emotions they were far too fearful to label. Because trying to label the unknown might shatter the bits of understanding of their emotions they barely possessed. Putting the hesitantly glued pieces into shambles; and as a teenager finding their place in the world, it was a risk they were walking eggshells on.

Neither allowed themselves to loiter on the thought longer than a second.

“I, I should get going.” Perhaps it was her imagination, perhaps it was reality how Chat’s ears drooped as he spoke.

“Uh, yeah, it's getting late...”

Chat took the initiative to climb the rails of her balcony, hunched and ready to set off. Baton in hand and his leather-covered thumb hovering over the button to extend it the moment he leaps.

Swivelling his head to face the pig-tailed girl, he gave her a smile, genuine and sincere. “Thanks Marinette, I’ll see you next time.”

For reasons unkown to Marinette herself, a giggle burst forth from her throat. Tickling the air around them with her bubbly laughter. All at once, the air felt warmer to Chat Noir.

“Sure thing, you silly cat.”

Marinette had expected for Chat Noir to make his way. However, still he was in his previous position, unmoving. Marinette was one breath away from uttering her worries when Chat Noir’s voice cut through the air in slight whispers timid and uncharacteristic.

“Can I,” he paused for a minute, but persevered nonetheless, “can I come here again?”

The question sounded child-like in Marinette’s ears. Like a shy little kid trying to make friends while shouldering a large fear of rejection. He sounded so small, so vulnerable.

Marinette took a breath to ease the tenseness she felt from Chat’s question. She needed to deliver an answer appropriate from her words down to her tone in order to fully put Chat at ease.

Gentle and fluffy, sweeter than all the candies in the world with a tone of loveliness, she spoke. “You’re always welcomed here, Chat.”

A weight could visibly be seen lifted off Chat’s shoulders. Shoulders once guarded and fearful of rejection came to relax for the first time that night. With a nod, Chat finally made his way back to his house.

The journey was something he didn’t desire, but he can’t impose Marinette with his overdue stay. At the very least, he came back with a new feeling better than anything he had in a long time. A feeling of warmth buzzing in his heart. Perhaps, he’s finally starting to remember the feeling of home again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HAHAHAHA SO-

I uh, I forgot about this thing’s existence and neglected it for 2 years...

Well so that’s also why the writing style is a bit screwed up but I tried and honestly I was too lazy to rewrite the whole thing so you can have this mess instead ❤️.

[thesweetestkimberry]

glasses

pairings: hanta sero x reader

summary: after your contacts began to grow uncomfortable, sero discovers you wear glasses

warnings: uhhh, like one or two curses i think, kissing, i think that’s it, oh wait,, the name “four eyes” being used in a teasing manner,

notes: heyo! so,, i wear contacts and glasses, and just decided to write about when sero would find out his s/o wears them too,, N E WAY, ENJOY SERO BEING A DORK !

『° 。✰˚⋆☾⋆。✰°』

aizawa had given you all loads of work due the next day, so you’d hauled yourself into your room and got straight to work.

after a while, your eyes had gotten tired and your contacts became uncomfortable, so you decided to take them out and replace them with your glasses.

sighing in relief at the feeling, you put your glasses on and went back to doing work.

not long after that, you heard a knock on your door,

“hey babe? can i come in?” your boyfriend asked, “yeah!” you called back, turning to the door as sero wandered in, looking at the pile of things he had in his arms.

“you will never believe what i found today! so we asked aizawa if we could go out for a bit, and we found this little hole in the wall place and guess what it sells? your favorite snacks! who’s the best boyfriend? me obv- woah babe!”

your brain was scrambling to process all of his words, giving you a break when he cut himself off, eyes wide and staring straight at you. you noticed the faint blush on his cheeks, laughing as he scrambled to hold everything.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, confused as to why his energy suddenly shifted, “your.. you have glasses?” he asked genuinely curious as to how he missed that his girlfriend of some months now wore glasses.

“yeah i have glasses?” you respond, unsure as to how to answer.

“are you just, blind the whole day? why don’t you wear them all the time? how bad is your vision? lemme see,” he rambles again, setting down all the snacks and surprisingly, his laptop on your bed before shuffling over to you.

before you could protest, he takes the glasses off of your face and puts them onto his own,

“i wear contacts during the day, hanta, and my vision is pretty bad.” you comment, wincing as his eyes widened as he looked at the world through your prescripted eyes.

he stumbled upon looking down, glancing around your room and attempting to read things, “how do i look?” he said pushing the glasses up his nose, must like you’d seen iida do for a while now.

“i don’t know babe, i can’t see.” you say, as a matter-of-factly, making him freeze and turn to you, “oh yeah huh?” he says pushing your glasses onto his head like they were sunglasses.

“how many fingers am i holding?” he asks holding three fingers, thinking he has you beat,

“three.” you state, amused with his antics, “wait what, you can see that?” he says looking at his own fingers and squinting at them at different distances.

“yes, you dork. just because i need glasses doesn’t mean i can’t see. i can still see you, you’re just really blurry.” you say making yourself more comfortable in your chair.

suddenly, he leaned in, bracing himself on the arms of your chair, caging you in and inching his face so close to yours, your noses were damn near brushing against one another.

“can you see me now?” he asks, a grin on his face which you could, in fact, see clearly.

“oh there’s my handsome boyfriend.” you say with an elated voice. the boy laughed along with you before pressing his lips onto yours.

the kiss was sweet and full of tenderness, lips dancing with yours in what you’d describe as swing dancing. young energetic lovers pouring their amor for one another in a dance only they knew.

pulling away, they both smiled at each other, but before sero could go in for another kiss, your glasses fell from the top of his head, back in place.

you giggled at the surprised look on his face, the sound making his heart flutter.

“you know, i love how they look on you, you know why?” he asks as you turn around to go over the last questions you did on your assignment, with a hum you respond his his question, waiting for him to continue,

“because they draw attention to your beautiful eyes, the same eyes that i tend to get lost in on the daily.” he says staring deeply into your eyes, not in a creepy way, but in a way that made you feel seen and loved.

“and also because you are blind as hell without them.” he says snickering at your betrayed face, sliding your glasses back onto your face, “now, bring your blind ass over here and let’s pig out!” he says throwing himself on your bed, the frame creaking in protest.

pushing your glasses up to your head, just as sero had done before, you looked around the room, “what are you looking for?” he asks, sitting up, also attempting to help look, even if he didn’t know what for. you even went as far as to remove your glasses, clean them, and squint through them.

“for whoever you think you’re talking to, because i know you did not just say that.” you say with a hand on your hip.

he chuckles and holds his arms out for you, making grabby motions like a child. with a sigh, you gave in and made yourself comfortable while he set up the movie.

“i love you babe.” you say as he wraps his arms around you, “i love you too... four eyes.”

your head quickly shot up, “what was that?” you ask with a pointed look, “i said, “i love you too, forever.”” he swiftly lies.

you’d heard him before, loud and clear, but you’d let it slide. after all, you did call him a cup holder since you accidentally found out his elbows doubled as cupholders when sideways.

“can you call me in the morning when you put your contacts on? i wanna see.” he says looking down at you, eyes practically beaming.

“sure hanta.” “aw sweet!”

『° 。✰˚⋆☾⋆。✰°』

[bleachanimefan1]

Oblitus Part 37

Ain't Nothing But A Hound Dog

26 Days Until Extermination...

Michael sitting on the couch as he was taking a break, while he was placing his blessing over the hotel. Charlie walked into the lobby to see that he was sulking about something.

"Michael, what's wrong?" she asked.

"I feel like I'm just a burden to everyone," he told her. Charlie's eyes widen and she smiled, nervously.

"No, you're not!" she tried to reassure him. Michael turned to her.

"Oh, really? Then what about the time I tried to cook but almost burned down the hotel?" he pointed out.

"Uh?"

"Or what about that other time, when I tried to greet the clients but had a nervous breakdown after I told them the wrong thing."

"Okay, so you're having a little bit of bad luck," Charlie told him. "We just need to find something that suits you." Charlie thought for a moment, before an idea came to her.

"Hey, how about you help put up signs for the hotel?" Charlie suggested, smiling.

"I'd be happy to, my favorite niece!" Micheal answered, happily. "I will not let you down!"

"I'm your only niece, Michael." the princess laughed and she handed the posters to him.

Michael took them from her and headed towards the front door, opening it. As he walked outside, Michael stopped when he heard a whimpering sound. He looked down and he squealed in delight to see a puppy with brown hair and a black spot on it's right eye.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked as he smiled, picking up the dog. "Are you by yourself?" He saw that there was no collar on it. It must be a stray. As he examined closer, Michael noticed that the puppy looked a little bit malnourished as he felt the dog's rib cage as he held it. The poor thing must be starving! He must do something about this! Michael looked around to see if there was anyone around the he turned back towards the front door and opened it, setting the puppy down on the floor.

"I'll be back in just a minute. I have to do something real quick," Michael said. "In the meantime, stay right there and I'll get you something to eat." The puppy let out a small bark in response as it started to headed straight towards him.

"Stay," Michael ordered. The puppy stopped as it stared up at him then plopped down on it's butt, wagging it's tail.

"Good dog," Michael smiled, closing the door.

The puppy looked around the lobby and began to wander around, sniffing things like the plants and furniture, having an accident on a few of them, and chewing on some of the legs on the chairs and tables. Next, it headed over towards Husk's bar, accidentally knocking over some expensive bottles and glass containers then happily ate some of the cherries that were in a bowl. Then, it began to wander further down the hallway, just as Husk came back only to see broken glass and other debris everywhere, as well as the half eaten bowl of cherries.

"I'm gonna kill that pig," Husk grumbled, angrily.

The doors to the elevator opened as a client walked inside of it, not noticing the puppy as did. The elevator stopped at a floor and the two got off, going separate ways. The dog stopped at an cracked door, curious, and pushed it open, walking into the room. Anna was sitting on the bed, with a towel draped around her, as she got out of the shower and was drying and brushing her hair. She didn't see the dog as she bent her head down, her hair covering her face, to dry the back of her head. The dog noticed her shirt and jeans lying on the bed and walked over and tugged them off. They fell on top of it as the dog wriggled it's way out of the pile.

It dragged Anna's shirt and jeans along with it, outside of her room, just as she flipped her hair back, to see them missing.

"Alastor!" she shouted, angrily.

The puppy discarded her clothes in a random room as it walked in to see Charlie and Vaggie talking to each other.

"I still can't believe that my father would do this to me?" the princess sighed. "I mean, I know that he was completely against my hotel idea, but I didn't think that he would stoop to this."

"Hey, hon," Vaggie said to her. "Look on the bright side, your hotel is becoming more famous and well known now that more sinners are redeeming themselves."

"That's true!" Charlie smiled but then it began to drop a bit. Vaggie noticed that there was something still bothering her.

"What is it?" she asked. Charlie sighed and looked at her.

"What about you? Don't you want to leave too?" she asked. Vaggie's eyes widen. "I mean, if you do, then I won't stop you-"

Vaggie stopped her. "Hon, I'm not going anywhere." she told her as took Charlie's hand, holding it.

"Oh, Vaggie," Charlie cried. Vaggie wiped away some of her tears with her thumb.

"Now, stop with the water works," she smiled. "Can't have the hotel's owner looking like this."

Charlie smiled and wiped her eyes. "I don't know what I would do without you,"

"Well, I can think of a few things we can do?" Vaggie smirked. Charlie raised her eye brows catching on to what she was suggesting, playing along.

"What are you offering?" she asked. Vaggie and her leaned in closer to kiss.

Then Vaggie felt something wet brush against her lips. The puppy had jumped up, just as the two were moving closer to each other, licking Vaggie's lips before Charlie kissed her. Vaggie's eyes immediately opened, staring at the princess in front of her with a shocked look. The dog walked out of the room, bored, looking for something else to do.

"That was unusual," Vaggie chuckled.

"What was?" Charlie asked.

"I didn't expect for you to lick me, before kissing me," Vaggie told her. Charlie looked at her confused.

"I didn't lick you," she told her. Vaggie laughed.

"Of course you did," she told her. "We are the only ones in the room. Who else could it be if it wasn't you?"

"Vaggie, I swear I didn't lick you!" Charlie replied. Vaggie frowned, thinking.

"If it wasn't you then who was it?"

"And why are Anna's clothes in here?" Charlie asked.

The dog walked further down the hallway when Fat Nuggets suddenly came out of Angel's room at the same time. The two made eye contact as they saw each other. The dog growled, scaring Fat Nuggets. It chased after Fat Nuggets down the hall barking as it did. After what seemed like an hour, the dog had given up the chase as it lost Fat Nuggets. It wandered down the hallway and walked down the stairs, heading to the lobby, while Angel was walking back towards his room.

Angel stopped when he saw Fat Nuggets, shivering, completely terrified, behind a potted plant.

"Nugsy? What are you doing out here?" Angel asked, picking him up. "And what happened to you?"

The puppy made it back to the lobby but stopped when it smelled something. The smell was coming from the kitchen and followed the scent, walking inside. Alastor hummed to himself as he was cutting up some carrots and tomatoes, tossing them into the pot, along with some shrimp and meat. As he reached to grab some salt and pepper to season his work, Alastor stopped when he felt something tugging on the edge of his pant leg. He kicked, hard, brushing it aside, thinking that it was one of his shadows. He heard a yelp and smiled as he returned back to what he was doing.

As Alastor was stirring the pot, he yelled and nearly jumped, when he felt something like teeth as it bit into his ankle. He growled, irritated, and looked down.

"What it is you pesky-" He froze with wide eyes and his whole body immediately went tense as he saw the puppy, latched onto his ankle. Alastor's eyes turned into radio dials as he stared down at the puppy. Horrible flashbacks from his previous life came back to him, as he felt the dogs teeth biting into his flesh, straight down to the bone and ripping his skin as they pinned him down.

"Get away from me, you filthy mutt!" Alastor shouted.

He threw back his leg, shaking the puppy off of him until it fell off, sliding across the floor. Voo doo sigils appeared around Alastor as he glared at the beast in front of him, while static emitted from him. The loud noise scared the dog and it ran away just as Anna walked into the kitchen, passing her as it did.

"Alastor, if your playing a joke on me, this isn't funny," she said as she walked into the kitchen, wearing only the towel. Alastor blinked. The symbols and static disappeared as well. He stared with wide eyes with a frozen smile, as she did, frozen in place. He felt himself began to panic.

Alastor blushed as he quickly looked away. "Have you no decency?! Cover up!" Anna frowned with her hands on her hips.

"I don't know what your problem is? I'm wearing a towel. You've seen me practically naked before,"

"Don't remind me," Alastor groaned. As he turned back, Alastor saw her stare at him, waiting for something.

"What?" he asked.

"Well?" Anna asked, gesturing to herself. Alastor was even more confused, by what she meant.

"Well, what?" he asked. Anna stared at him in disbelief.

"Give me back my clothes that you told your shadows to do!" she shouted.

"I did not tell them to do such a thing," Alastor told her. "honest."

"If it wasn't you then, who else was it?" Anna questioned.

"It was probably that mutt," Alastor muttered under his breath, spitefully. Anna's eyes widen in surprise.

"Dog? What dog?" she asked.

"Stop running away, you runt!" the two of them heard Husk shout at something in the lobby. Alastor and Anna peeked out from the kitchen to see Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, who was holding Fat Nuggets, still traumatized, and Husk surround someone in the corner of the lobby, close to the front door.

"What is going on?" Anna asked.

"Well, we found the culprit who's been terrorizing everyone," Charlie explained, gesturing over to the small dog, who was staring at everyone with big eyes, innocently.

"Well, toss that flea bag out!" Alastor shouted.

"How did it even get inside the hotel in the first place?" Anna asked.

Suddenly, while everyone was wondering the same thing, the front door open as Michael walked in, looking like he had gotten into a scrabble himself as well. He was missing a shoe, his hair was a mess, and his white suit was unbuttoned.

"I got mugged!" he shouted as he walked in, smiling. "But, I managed to put up every single poster so everyone can see them!"

Michael stopped when he saw everyone staring at him with unhappy looks on their faces then saw the puppy in front of them. It noticed him and quickly ran over to him. Michael cringed when he saw the damaged of the lobby, from broken glass, tattered and ripped couch cushions, chewed up furniture legs, and somehow a fire right in the middle of the lobby.

"After I find a safe home for this one," Michael told them. "I'll help clean up!"

"No!" Everyone shouted at the same time. "Please, don't! Just go back to blessing the hotel! We'll take care of this!"