"Help! My dorm has a communal bathroom with just one toilet for us guys. Everyone who sits on the toilet notices their ass is a little bigger each time they get up. What should we do?"
Based on this ask I temporarily lost
~
The situation at Alpha Sigma Sigma (ASS) began in the dorm lounge last week when Brock Johnson bent over to pick up a protein shake and ripped his pants clean down the back. The rip was reportedly heard across the entire dorm.
While this initially resulted in laughter and prolonged teasing, further observation revealed that Zane Richards, who bent down to help, experienced record-breaking levels of pant straining.
It was confirmed that all dorm members had experienced an over 150% increase in posterior thickness since the beginning of the week.
This incident was highlighted by Blake Carter’s comments regarding Hunter Williams when exiting the communal bathroom that evening: “Dude… you were not that thick when you went in.”
There was a wide variety of reactions to the events occurring at ASS that week. The following statements were recorded:
Brock Johnson (Dorm Gym Bro):
“I never once skipped leg day. Some of these bros haven’t seen a squat rack in years and are still cashing in.”
Logan Scott (Lowest GPA):
“Ripped my last pair of underwear this morning. I’m commando until further notice.”
Jaxon Gray (Resident Fuckboy):
“I’m seriously spiralling. I thought I was into girls but have you seen Blake’s ass lately? Existential crisis, population: me.”
Hunter Williams (Ultra-Marathon Runner):
“Do you know how hard it is to run with a sofa strapped to your ass. My time’s tanking!”
Blake Carter (Advanced Engineering Student):
“Something is up with that new communal toilet. I need to do some investigating… for science.”
Zane Richards (Voted Most Wholesome):
“Honestly? I don’t mind. Kinda love that we’re all cheeked up like crazy.”
A few days later, dorm members began noticing Brock taking suspiciously long “dumps”. Brock Johnson released a statement addressing these accusations: “Those cheesy burritos and my new protein shake were a dangerous combo, that’s all bro.”
During that period, Blake Carter was caught by his roommate Jaxon Gray sneaking off to the bathroom at 2 a.m. for some “scientific research”.
Soon the toilet became the most popular, and contested, facility in the building. Chaos ensued in Alpha Sigma Sigma and a formal dorm meeting was called.
An anonymous vote revealed that all dorm members were in favour of using the toilet for continued growth.
To ensure fairness, it was unanimously decided that after an initial “catch-up” period for those with smaller gains, a strict rotating schedule was needed to be enforced.
Morale in the dorm skyrocketed. An independent survey revealed 100% of members reported “extreme satisfaction”, and 110% reported “extreme thiccness”.
In light of these developments, it became evident that new rules needed to be established immediately. After careful consideration and extended consultation with prominent members of the dorm, the following rules will be implemented:
Weekly Butt Measurements - “No cheeks left behind.”
Every Sunday, glute circumference will be measured and displayed publicly by the protein shake station. Keep your bros accountable.
Mandatory Gym Sessions - “Leg day isn’t a day, it’s a mindset.”
Daily gym attendance is mandatory. Leg day is every other day; glute work daily. Protein quotas (min. 200g/day) must be met. New gym facility will be installed: squat racks for everyone, with vastly increased weight capacity.
No Pants Policy - “Let the cheeks breathe.”
Inside the dorm: only underwear, jockstraps or bare cheeks permitted. For outside-dorm activities, 3XL joggers with elastic waistbands will be issued, larger options available as needed.
24/7 Toilet Rotation - “Glute growth never stops.”
The communal toilet will run on a strict non-stop schedule, with assigned times posted publicly. No hoarding. Equal seats means equal cheeks.
Social Media Thirst Traps - “Raise money for the Grow Our Glutes charity.”
Each member is required to post a minimum of one thirst trap per day. Suggested themes include: mirror pics, squat close-ups, and slow-motion jiggles. Group content is highly encouraged, and highly profitable.
Gay Content & Queer Visibility - “If you love your bros, show it.”
Weekly content containing same-sex affection (kissing, cuddling, ass slaps) is required. No queer-baiting allowed. If you don’t mean it, then you are really supporting gay rights?
Polyamory Celebration - “Why stop at just one giant pair of cheeks?”
Weekly content containing throuples or larger group dynamics is required. Cuddle piles, ass slap trains and group selfies recommended. Sharing is caring, so pass the ass.
Bedroom Roster - “No cliques, only cheeks.”
A rotating sleepover schedule ensures every bro spends quality time with every other bro. Spooning is non-negotiable.
Safe Sex Commitment - “Wrap it before you clap it.”
Free condoms, lube and monthly screenings. Weekly upload of all hookup and orgy content to the dorm’s lucrative safe-porn website is required. Contentment must highlight consent, safety and of course must be hot as hell (and sell, sell, sell)!
Positive Masculinity Pledge - “No shame in the thiccness game.”
Toxic masculinity is strictly prohibited. Compliments on gains are mandatory in every interaction. Jealousy or shaming may result in toilet privileges being revoked.
With these measures in place, we’re confident that Alpha Sigma Sigma will go down in history as the happiest, thickest and most clappable dorm ever to bless this planet with their beautiful behinds.
I FOUND A SHIP NAME FOR MY PKMN OCs, LEO AND VOLT!
ELECTRICSUNSETSHIPPING! Because I based Leo's design on the sunset, and Volt is an electric type specialist. Their names were too bland for me to make any interesting ship names, and I wanted to match the energy of most pkmn ships. I like it a lot!
Anyways. My blorbos. Featuring: headcanons about human evolution in the pkmn world
Me rambling about them under the cut bcuz I realized this is my account and I can ramble about my OCs if I want 👇
In the story, their relationship starts off as Leo being incredibly confused by Volt because he does a lot of weird shit and makes a lot of weird shit without thinking about it. Leo, being himself and not understanding when he's being rude or not, would go aoing with it out of sheer curiosity while also pointing out everything wrong with what he was doing. Volt would get annoyed and then try to make things or do things that would impress Leo so he could "finally make something that Leo could be impressed by." It turns into a weird version of a crush bcuz Volt has a track record of mistaking attraction for annoyance, and then hyperfixate on impressing that person. Queue Leo and Volt working together often and Volt being passive aggressive while also admiring him a lot, and Leo doesn't notice or care because he has the emotional intelligence and people skills of a wet sponge. Surprisingly, Volt's strangeness aorks, bcuz Leo does think the things Volt makes and what he researches is interesting and he finds excuses to go visit the center's shared lab (where Volt is most often) to talk to him.
The two do end up getting assigned a mission together to investigate some weird happenings in a cave that they think could be connected to Area Zero. It was the first time they were able to spend extended time alone together (with Volt still on his silly shit, but he also got a tyanmo out of it, so it's fine). They find some weird research labs there, which they're not fully sure about, but they realize it causes the pokemon there to go frenzied. Leo doesn't know much about mechanics and engineering, but Volt does, and he was able to figure out how to work the complicated machine and figure out what was causing the pokemon to go frenzied - a microchip of some sorts that was emitting weird aura. They bring it back to the lab and Leo, despite not knowing what it is, helps him bcuz he likes heating what Volt has to say about it. I wouldn't say this is the moment they became friends, but it is when they started being a lot more friendly to each other and Volt stopped with passive aggressiveness. The two become closer and bond over nerdy science shit, with Leo telling Volt about pokemon biology, history, and folklore, and Volt telling Leo about different mechanical stuff. Volt becomes more obvious with his crush, but Leo doesn't take the hints bcuz, again, his people skills and emotional intelligence are that of a wet sponge.
Even more random shit about them
Their relationship was inspired by Cecil and Carlos from WTNV, but like a swapped version of it. I thought the idea of a character having an obvious crush on a first-person protagonist who doesn't even notice could be funny. They were also inspired by Perceptor and Brainatorm from MTMTE, if it wasn't already obvious enough
Volt likes Leo because he thinks he's cool and he wants to impress him, but also bcuz most people who spoke to him in his life did so as if it was a chore and Leo actively chooses to listen to him and his ideas without berating him or calling him crazy or stupid. He also likes that Leo is willing to share his ideas with him and they can build on ideas together.
Leo likes Volt because he doesn't feel like he has to hide parts of who he is and can ramble about things he finds interesting and they can both piece things together like a puzzle. He's also vaguely attracted to people who are a bit insane, but it happens to the best of us 🤷♂️
Basically: nerdy egghead shit combined with neurodivergant trauma. I'm gonna bully them <3
It's basically a Secret Santa (a secret gift giving event) but in the Summertime/Not-December instead!
For this event, you'll be secretly assigned to either draw or write someone's oc as a gift. And someone else will be assigned to make a gift of your oc for you!
It’s very important that your giftee doesn't know you are making them a gift and vice versa, that you don’t know who is making you a gift!
Are there any rules?
Absolutely no N/S/F/W or Suggestive content is permitted for prompts, gifts, or references. This is /not/ an 18+ event.
Blood and Injuries may be permitted at the giftee's decision.
No direct contact with the person you’re making a gift for; you can communicate through me or ask through anon on tumblr if you can.
No AI art/writing, Gacha edits, face claims, picrews, or bases will be permitted for oc reference submissions or gifts.
Oc x Canon and Oc x Oc ships are 100% allowed.
Fankids, sonas, and self inserts are also allowed; my only rule is that fankids of Lloyd x Canon ships are not permitted.
Respect requests regarding holiday or seasonal preferences when making a gift. Don’t depict an oc participating in a holiday or seasonal activity that the creator asked not be depicted.
You must draw or write the character(s) you were assigned and they must be visible in the art OR the focus of the writing (feel free to ask for clarification)
How many ocs can be submitted total?
At least one oc is required, but up to three can be submitted ^^
What will I need for sign ups?
Refs or art that show a clear, colored depiction of your oc.
OR at least one piece of writing for said oc (does not need to be a whole fic. Could easily just be a quick blurb showing how they’re written as a character)
Basic Information/Fun Facts about your character. This can be background information, relationships, likes/dislikes, age and height, personality, etc.
Suggestions or prompts for your gift giver. Stuff to help get their brain going.
Your blog name (not the name you go by online but the url name. Like @/Ninjago-Oc-Appreciation. Make sure it’s a tumblr url, and not from any other social media)
What’s the general timeline for this event?
Sign ups will officially begin near the end of April, likely the third week.
Assignments will be sent out within the last week of April.
Posting will begin June 21st to June 28th, you will have until then to finish your gifts.
June 29th to July 5th is the designated late week.
How do I sign up?
In late April, I’ll post a sign up form where you can submit your oc(s)! There will be one for writing and one for art!
Please reach out to me in someway after signing up. This can be through messages, asks, comments, etc. While this year I am trying out a new form website to try and mitigate the risk of forms being eaten, I would still like to err on the side of caution. Informing me is the best way to make sure your form did in fact go through.
Additional Notes:
Much like the Secret Santa, the event title is merely a gimmick. It is not a theme or a restriction.
This year I'm trying out a new form website called Tally! The hope is that it'll be good enough to replace using Google Forms from here on out. Tally does not require an account OR an email to fill out a form, so if that's something that's prevented you from participating in this event previously, hopefully this will be the year you can sign up!
If you cannot use Tally for whatever reason, please contact me. I'd be happy to work something out.
We’ll be using #NOSS2026, #NinjagoOcSecretSummer2026 and #SecretNinja2026 as tags for this event!
That’s all! If you have any questions feel free to let me know, I tried to cover everything but I may have missed something
based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more …
June 3
1818 – Greece: On this day the Lion of Chaeronea is discovered by a British architect named George Ledwell Taylor. The Lion was erected by the Sacred Band of Thebes which was a troop of select soldiers consisting of 150 pairs of male lovers which formed the elite force of the Theban army in the 4th century BC. Its predominance began with its crucial role in the Battle of Leuctra in 371 BC. It was annihilated by Philip II of Macedon in the Battle of Chaeronea in 338 BC. Built to honor their dead, the statue was surrounded by 254 buried skeletons. Plutarch’s Life of Pelopidas, which contains the most detailed account of the Sacred Band, is considered a highly reliable account of the events. Chaeronea is a village in Boeotia, Greece.
1902 – George Quaintance was born (d.1957). Quaintance was a gay American artist, famous for his "idealized, strongly homoerotic" depictions of men in mid-20th-century physique magazines. Using historical settings to justify the nudity or distance the subjects from modern society, his art featured idealized muscular, semi-nude or nude male figures; Wild West settings were a common motif. His artwork helped establish the stereotype of the "macho stud" who was also homosexual.
Quaintance was born in Page County, Virginia, and grew up on a farm, displaying an aptitude for art. Even as a teen, Quaintance has been described as "obviously and actively homosexual", despite being closeted.
In the 1930s, he became a hairstylist. His first art assignments were anonymous advertising work, but by 1934 he had begun to sell freelance cover illustrations to a variety of "spicy" pulp magazines, such as Gay French Life, Ginger, Movie Humor, Movie Merry Go-Round, Snappy Detective Mysteries, Snappy Stories, Stolen Sweets, and Tempting Tales. These were sold at burlesque halls as well as under-the-counter at discreet newsstands.
His companion Victor Garcia, described as Quaintance's "model, life partner, and business associate", was the subject of many of Quaintance's photographs in the 1940s. In 1951, Quaintance's art was used for the first cover of Physique Pictorial, edited by Bob Mizer of the Athletic Model Guild. In the early 1950s, Quaintance and Garcia moved to Rancho Siesta, which became the home of Studio Quaintance, a business venture based around Quaintance's artworks. In 1953, Quaintance completed a series of three paintings about a matador, modeled by Angel Avila, another of his lovers. By 1956, the business had become so successful that Quaintance could not keep up with the demand for his works.George Quaintance died of a heart attack on November 8, 1957.
Though few people outside the Gay world know it, Quaintance was a pioneer of male physique painting. This genre heralded a new American Gay consciousness in the early 1950s. His art helped define the now-familiar iconography of male erotica. He was an influence on many later homoerotic artists, such as Tom of Finland.
Quaintance was a man of many of talents - dancer; designer of stage sets, interiors and New York department store windows; he also designed women's make-up and hairstyles for Hollywood stars and New York socialites, and was a sought-after portrait artist. But George Quaintance's main contribution to Gay life and culture and the key to his true significance is his long career as a male physique photographer and, more especially, his extraordinary paintings, which are now highly collectible and hold a unique place in the story of Gay sensibility and imagery in the twentieth century.
Although now obscure, George Quaintance was one of the most influential figures in a unique American style of art and one of the most flamboyant and interesting Gay characters for four decades of the twentieth century.
1906 – African-American expatriate entertainer and actresss Josephine Baker was born (d.1975). She became a French citizen in 1937. Most noted as a singer, Baker also was a celebrated dancer in her early career. She was given the nicknames the "Bronze Venus" or the "Black Pearl", as well as the "Créole Goddess" in anglophone nations. In France, she has always been known as "La Baker."
Baker was the first African American female to star in a major motion picture, to integrate an American concert hall, and to become a world-famous entertainer. She is also noted for her contributions to the Civil Rights Movement in the United States (She was offered the leadership of the movement by Coretta Scott King in 1968 following Martin Luther King, Jr.'s assassination, but turned it down), for assisting the French Resistance during World War II and being the first American-born woman to receive the French military honor, the Croix de Guerre.
In September 1939, when France declared war on Germany in response to the invasion of Poland, Baker was recruited by the Deuxième Bureau, the French military intelligence agency, as an "honorable correspondent". Baker worked with Jacques Abtey, the head of French counterintelligence in Paris. She socialised with the Germans at embassies, ministries, night clubs, charming them while secretly gathering information. Her café-society fame enabled her to rub shoulders with those in the know, from high-ranking Japanese officials to Italian and Vichy bureaucrats, reporting to Abtey what she heard. She attended parties and gathered information at the Italian embassy without raising suspicion.
On 30 November 2021, almost 50 years after her death, she was enrolled in the Panthéon in Paris, the first black woman to receive one of the highest honors in France. As her resting place is to remain in Monaco, a cenotaph will be installed in vault 13 of the crypt in the Panthéon.
In the book about her life, titled Josephine: The Hungry Heart written by her son and author Jean-Claude Baker, he states that she was involved in numerous Lesbian affairs, both while she was single and married, and he mentions six of her female lovers by name. Clara Smith, Evelyn Sheppard, Bessie Allison, Ada "Bricktop" Smith, and Mildred Smallwood were all African-American women she met while touring on the black performing circuit early in her career. She was also involved with actress Colette, and possibly with Caroline Dudley Reagan, who ran the Paris extravaganza La Revue Nègre. Not mentioned, but confirmed since, was her affair with Mexican artist Freda Kahlo. Baker wrote that affairs with women were not uncommon with Josephine throughout her lifetime.
1926 – American poet of freedom Allen Ginsberg was born (d.1997). He was prophetic poet, best known for the seminal poem "Howl" (1956), celebrating his friends of the Beat Generation and attacking what he saw as the destructive forces of materialism and conformity in the United States at the time. The influence of Ginsberg's poetry on an entire generation was enormous. How Ginsberg and the other "beats" appeared to readers in the 50's, still wearing flats and dress shields and seven crinolines, is hard to reconstruct, much less imagine.
Ginsberg was one of the first to write openly of his homosexuality and to have this work published. It led to court cases. Court cases that established precedents that allowed other honest work to be published. This is no small matter. In analyzing the history it's important to note how fearless Ginsberg was for his time. The Gay icons of the era we look up to were decades from being openly honest -- Auden , Isherwood , and others.
In 1954 in San Francisco, Ginsberg met Peter Orlovsky, (7 years his junior) with whom he fell in love and who remained his life-long lover, and with whom he eventually shared his interest in Tibetan Buddhism.
Ginsberg won the National Book Award for his book The Fall of America. In 1993, the French Minister of Culture awarded him the medal of Chevalier des Arts et des Lettres (the Order of Arts and Letters).
Allen Ginsberg gave what is thought to be his last reading at The Booksmith in San Francisco on December 16, 1996. He died on April 5, 1997, surrounded by family and friends in his East Village loft in New York City, succumbing to liver cancer via complications of hepatitis. He was 70 years old. Ginsberg continued to write through his final illness, with his last poem, "Things I'll Not Do (Nostalgias)," written on March 30.
Ginsberg is buried in his family plot in Gomel Chesed Cemetery, one of a cluster of Jewish cemeteries in New Jersey. Though the grave itself and the cemetery are neither picturesque nor otherwise notable, there is a steady trickle of visitors as indicated by a handful of stones always on his marker and the occasional book or other item left by other poets and admirers.
Hislop in his youth
1927 – George Hislop (d.2005) was one of Canada's most influential gay activists. He was the first openly gay candidate for municipal office in Canada, as well as the first openly gay candidate for any political office in Ontario (and only the second in Canada after Robert Douglas Cook), and was a key figure in the early development of Toronto's gay community.
Hislop studied speech and drama at the Banff School of Fine Arts, graduating in 1949. He subsequently worked as an actor, and ran an interior design company with his partner, Ron Shearer
In 1971, Hislop cofounded the Community Homophile Association of Toronto, one of Canada's first organizations for gays and lesbians. On August 28, 1971, he also organized the first Canadian gay rights demonstration on Parliament Hill. He later played a significant role as a contact between one of the criminals and the police in the Emanuel Jaques murder case in 1977.
In 1980, Hislop ran for Toronto City Council. He won the support of then Mayor John Sewell, a move that contributed to Sewell's defeat. The Toronto police association openly campaigned against both Sewell and Hislop in the election. The following year, Hislop ran in the 1981 provincial election as an independent candidate in protest against the 1981 Toronto bathhouse raids. Hislop was himself charged as a result of these raids, as part-owner of the Barracks bathhouse. He placed fourth with 2,677 votes (9.3% of the total), a strong finish for an independent candidate.
Through the 1980s and 1990s, Hislop remained active as a business owner and activist.
In 2003, Hislop was nominated for the Order of Ontario by George Smitherman. Also that year, Hislop was one of several gay activists who launched a class action lawsuit against the federal government. The government had extended Canada Pension Plan benefits to the surviving same-sex partners of deceased pensioners as of 1998, but the change was not retroactive to earlier deaths. Shearer had died in 1986, making Hislop ineligible for survivor benefits.
The suit aimed to have retroactive benefits extended back to the 1985 inclusion of gay and lesbian equality rights in the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. On November 26, 2004, the lawsuit ended in victory for Hislop and his coplaintiffs, although the federal government subsequently filed a controversial appeal of the decision. The federal government lost this appeal on March 1, 2007, when the Supreme Court ruled in Hislop's favour.
Also in 2004, Hislop was the grand marshal of Toronto's Pride parade.
In 2005, Hislop was the first-ever recipient of the International Lesbian and Gay Law Association's Karl Heinrich Ulrichs Award in honour of his contributions to the advancement of LGBT equality in Canada, and was cited by federal New Democratic Party leader Jack Layton as an important influence on Layton's support of LGBT issues. In August of that year, Hislop received his first pension cheque under the 2004 court decision.
On October 9, the Toronto Star reported that Hislop, who had diabetes, Parkinson's disease and esophageal cancer, had died in hospital the previous day. In an obituary notice, Eye Weekly referred to Hislop as "the unofficial mayor of the Toronto gay community".
In October 2005, just one week after his passing, Hislop was posthumously awarded the inaugural Jonathan R. Steinert and Fernando G. Ferreiro Award, Canada's largest award for contributions to LGBT communities. The $12,500 award, established by the Lesbian and Gay Community Appeal Foundation, would be given to Hislop's estate.
A park in the city's Church and Wellesley neighbourhood is also named in Hislop's honour.
1937 – The American poet Paul Mariah was born on this date (d.1996). Born Paul Jones, the name Mariah was chosen by Paul when he moved to San Francisco after having served a prison sentence for consensual sex with a man in Texas. His prison experiences were cited as crucial to his personal and literary development.
Besides being an accomplished poet in his own right, he, along with his lover Ricahrd Tagett, also founded and published Manroot press in 1969, one the first presses dedicated solely to publishing Gay works of poetry, and a literary magazine with the same title. A dozen issues of the magazine appeared, along with 30 monographs. His enterprise published many leading writers of the time, including notable editions of such major poets as Jack Spicer, James Broughton, Robert Peters, and Thom Gunn. Mariah also issued bilingual editions of Jean Cocteau and Jean Genet, and revived interest in the work of Robert Ingersoll, the 19th century agnostic, prison reformer and social critic who gave the eulogy at Walt Whitman's funeral. His own poetry appeared in two collections, Personae Non Gratae in 1971 and This Light Will Spread in 1978. He was also prominent in the movement for prisoners' rights.
1967 – The American reporter and newshost Anderson Cooper was born today. An Emmy Award winning American journalist, author, and television personality. He works as the primary anchor of the CNN news show Anderson Cooper 360°.
He is the younger son of the writer Wyatt Emory Cooper and the artist, designer, writer, and heiress Gloria Vanderbilt, granddaughter of Cornelius Vanderbilt II of the prominent Vanderbilt Family of New York. His closeted public life contrasts deliberately with his mother's life spent in the spotlight of tabloid journalists and her publication of memoirs explicitly detailing her affairs with celebrities. Nevertheless, independent news media have reported that he is Gay, and in May 2007, Out magazine ranked him second among "The Most Powerful Gay Men and Women in America."
He was awarded the 2001 GLAAD Media Award for Outstanding TV Journalism for "High School Hero," his 20/20 Downtown report on high school athlete Corey Johnson, the co-captain of a Massachusetts high school football team who was the first high school athlete in the nation to come out publicly while still enjoying the support of his teammates, parents and coaches.
On July 2, 2012, however, he gave Andrew Sullivan permission to publish an email that stated, in part:
I've begun to consider whether the unintended outcomes of maintaining my privacy outweigh personal and professional principle. It's become clear to me that by remaining silent on certain aspects of my personal life for so long, I have given some the mistaken impression that I am trying to hide something - something that makes me uncomfortable, ashamed or even afraid. This is distressing because it is simply not true. ... The fact is, I'm gay, always have been, always will be, and I couldn't be any more happy, comfortable with myself, and proud.
Cooper and his boyfriend, gay bar owner Benjamin Maisani, have been dating since 2009. Cooper considered coming out to the public when same-sex marriage became legal in New York in July 2011. In 2014, the couple purchased Rye House, a historic estate in Connecticut.
1985 – Kayden Boche is a French model, actor, film director, cinematographer, music producer and songwriter — best known for starring in the Dior Addict fragrance campaigns Be Iconic and Eau Délice by Christian Dior alongside supermodel Daphne Groeneveld. He is also notable for appearing in editorials for Vogue, Jalouse, Spray Magazine, and walking the runway for Christian Dior, Prada, Kenzo, Francesco Smalto, Alexis Mabille, and more.
Boche was born on June 3, 1985 in Brest, France. His mother died at age 33 on February 24, 1994 – three weeks after giving birth to his younger sister. Boche was later placed in a foster family in 1999, after suffering repeated physical and emotional abuses over 5 years. He graduated from high school in 2004 and launched his international modeling career a year later.
Boche has produced several international recording artists including Jessica Lowndes, James Rendon, Angelika Vee, and French American Idol finalist Jérémy Amelin. He is the music video director and songwriter of Amelin's fourth single "Oh, Oh !"
On February 1, 2018, Boche publicly acknowledged his homosexuality in a post on his official Instagram — stating : "Yes, I am gay".
1989 – On this date the United States Postal Service issued the first "Lesbian and Gay Pride" postage stamp.
George Hislop: A Personal Insight:
One of my followers, "BJ", sent the following response to the item on George Hislop:
Good evening dude,
Your post today made me both happy and sad.
I was most pleased to see my good friend George Hislop featured and sad that he had passed away.
From early on, George was very open and unashamed about his being gay and about his long "married" life with Ronnie, an unusual act back in those years. But then George wasn't an usual man either. He fought tirelessly through thick and thin for our rights and for our community. He was respected by friends and foes alike. He made people laugh. He made people stand up and take notice. By example, he gave a generation (and beyond) of gay people a sense of pride and respect in themselves and in their relationships. And for many, the courage to "come out". And through his survivor benefits lawsuit (that he won) validated uncounted gay relationships across our country… a further step to benefits equality. He was a force to be reckoned with.
During my business years in Toronto, George was a regular at both my bar and restaurant. His life was difficult financially in the last years of his life. But he was always welcome to come in for a drink or a meal whenever he wanted as a token of appreciation for all he had done during his life furthering our cause in Toronto and Canada. George being the man he was never wanted to take advantage.
It was always a treat being regaled by his many jokes and life stories and there were so many… of both! He was a wonderful unselfish man with a great heart and loved by thousands. Thank you for remembering him. And thank you George for all you have done for all of us! Gone but never forgotten.
↳ Things begin to feel promising leading up to your first mission amongst this misfit crew... That is, until it all goes wrong, and a secret never meant to be known by you is ultimately revealed.
bang chan x fem!reader x lee minho — bounty hunters! fantasy, sci-fi, dystopia. found family, why choose?, action, violence, angst, drama, enemies to lovers, slow burn, mystery, secrets, near death experiences, complicated relationships, happy ending, plot-heavy!! smut. [7,2k wc ongoing] cws: heavy themes of violence, betrayal, distrust, toxic yearning/situationship, bad decisions, and falling for the guy who puts everything on the line for you... as well as the guy who wants you dead.
❥ masterlist | ao3
Waking up in the room you have been assigned feels bittersweet. On account of the fact that you cannot help but succumb to the insurmountable impression that your being here is wholly unwanted.
Still, an effort has been made to try and make it feel like something of a temporary home. It is small—little more than a bed built into the furthest end against the large window and a chair set up against the tiny offering of a desk. Minute additions have been put in place by whoever has been put in charge of getting it ready for you, and you do your best to acknowledge each and every one.
Though the walls are dull and lifeless, someone has placed a clothing rack up into the only space that it can reasonably go. Three sets of similar clothes reside there, as well as an extra holder for weapons. However, it is the desk that truly brings a brightness to this space.
A notebook, a pen, and a small desk lamp sit atop it. These are interesting choices to you, considering the technology has progressed so far past the need for anything as rudimentary as this. Still, looking at it has you wondering what the person who did this thought upon making the decision; what they think of you, what they suspect you might be like underneath the tragedy that has befallen you.
Then, you feel sick all over again.
Your stomach whirls with the feeling of nauseating discomfort, and the dizziness that has plagued you begins to return in full force. That's right, you recall, you are actively dying. The only thing standing between you and that eventual outcome being the concoction that awaits you down the hall.
But before you have the opportunity to start your journey, a knock comes from the other side of the door.
Encouraging their entry, you sit at the edge of your bed and are relieved by the familiar face that has come to find you.
Chan stands in the entryway with somewhat messy hair and a smile on his face. Based on his appearance and the fact that he is not yet dressed in the commonly worn garb of the crew, you have to figure that he has only just woken up, too. Fighting the smile that begins to match his is an impossibility given the sight of him, and even more than that; the glass of putrid-looking liquid held in his hand.
"You're up early, no?" Chan says as he walks the short distance to your bed. He pulls the chair from the desk space and sits himself down in it—backwards—casual and without the essence of a commander of the ship. "Must be like me. Morning person."
"I am, but I don't rest well in new places, either," you say. "Not to mention the fact that I think I am doomed to waking up with the most abrupt sickness you could imagine for the rest of my life… which I suppose will be short-lived, at least."
Chan snorts a laugh at that and says, "You know, most people wouldn't take this news so lightly. I don't want to say you're taking it well, but…" He pauses, but maintains firm eye contact with you as if trying to dissect the intricacies of your mind. "What is it about this—about you—that has you reconciling with the probability of this outcome with such ease?"
You have done your best not to think about it so much, but the question is a fair one. Acknowledging the fact of the matter is an obvious thing from the outside; you are not distressed, you are not crumbling under the weight of a devastating and soon to come future. This is, objectively, a strange reaction. Now you must face it and ask yourself why?
Taking the glass from Chan's hand, you down the liquid quickly and hand it back to him once empty.
"I knew what getting into this line of work might entail," you begin through a reluctant sigh. "We all get into it for the money, or because we don't have family to disappoint, or sadden. Nobody is waiting for us at home. But it's dangerous, it only takes one bad job, one betrayal, one instance of being at the wrong place at the wrong time for it to all come to an end. Just like that."
"You look at this as an inevitability," Chan concludes.
"Yeah, something like that. Granted, I anticipated a bullet to the head, not contracting some ancient toxin that nobody has heard of in years. Not exactly the glamourous downfall of a bounty hunter that one might imagine."
"Well, as much as you might accept it, I'm not," he says, cocking his head to the side in a curious sort of manner. "You saved the life of one of my crewmates—accidental, or not—and though you might not understand how absolutely crucial your doing that is to something much bigger, it is. I can't just sit back and watch you die, not as long as I have the opportunity to try and do something about it."
"Amazing how you seem far more appreciative of my having done that than the guy I actually saved is."
"That's because Minho doesn't care about himself in regards to all of this." Shrugging, Chan sighs through his nose and says, "I need Minho, and he knows that, but the only person that Minho needs—the real way to break that tough exterior apart—is Hyunjin."
Reaching out, Chan places a gentle hand onto your arm and offers another comforting smile.
"Save Hyunjin next time, and you'll have that guy in the palm of your hand."
There's a comical air to his tone that takes you a moment to parse through, but by the time you have, Chan is already back to his feet and making his way back towards the door.
"Wait, who is Hyunjin?" you ask abruptly, "Why him?"
Waving a nonchalant hand in the air, he does not turn back to look at you and as the door slides back open, all he says is: "He's going to be pissed off enough if he finds out I told you even this much, don't get me into even more hot water with my lieutenant. We land in Krynnor in approximately two hours. Be ready. I might need you on the front lines."
You scoff. "In my current condition? Is that such a good idea?"
"Do you really want me to wave you off on a mere assumption that you aren't perfectly capable of handling your own? That seems a bit unlike you. Besides, you can snap a man's neck in three seconds flat, I think you can manage."
The door closes upon his exit, and you've got no other option than to respect his incredibly persuasive maneuvers.
As charming as the Adala has been in all of her humble glory, the more the minutes tick by until your departure, the more willing you become to set foot once more on solid ground.
Ship life had never been a consideration for you when the career prospect of bounty hunting placed itself before you. Plenty of clans and crews assign themselves to the lifestyle—it is far from unheard of—and though you have been offered to join on more than one occasion, the idea of living in motion in such a way has never struck you as any life to live, at all.
But plenty of bounty hunters simply aren't up to snuff, either. They need a team. It's a difficult and dangerous job, the kind that makes having a solid place to come back home to all the more worth it at the end of the day. One place to call yours. A place that is still right where you left it when you set foot into yet another fiasco.
That place has always been your home, with no nagging interest in the back of your mind urging you to see what else is out there. You know what else is out there; more death, more destruction, more cities and civilizations facing the reckoning of someone with more money, power and influence. Nuvia is no different, if your failed mission is anything to go by, but at the very least it still stands tall and proud in the face of adversity.
The failure rests all the more heavy on your shoulders as a result.
By the time you make your way to the bridge doors, there are at least some people that are happy to see you already standing in wait. Seungmin greets you with a smile, followed by Felix and Jisung, and the three hurry towards you as the doctor rifles through the bag slung over his shoulder.
"Ah, here it is," he says brightly, handing you a small bottle with the top capped off. "You'll need this for when we're in Krynnor, since we won't be back to the ship in time for your dose."
Taking it into your hand, you can't help the grimace that curls into your features as you look at it. "I wonder how long I'm going to have to do this for," you say. "Be treated like a child." You pause and make eye contact with Seungmin, gently smiling. "No offense, I appreciate everything you're doing for me."
"None taken, I understand these circumstances are far from ideal. However, one should also consider that the day you no longer have to do this could very well be the day that you are dead. So, let's try to maintain something of a positive outlook, as far as what we're given is concerned."
"Hey, for all we know, there's information in Krynnor," Felix says with a happy shrug. "That's what we're going out there for anyway, isn't it? Information."
A jab from Jisung quickly finds Felix's ribs, as well as Seungmin's disapproving glare in a way that you've not quite seen from him before. You don't understand the nuance of what has been said, though you can read the room enough to know that it shouldn't have been—not with you around—and rather than poking further, you let it roll off your back in a silent acknowledgement… stowed away for later retrieval, if all goes well.
"Anyway, where are these guys?" Jisung says, craning his head to peer down the different walkways in hopes of finding someone.
"Don't rush us!"
Before Jisung has the opportunity to look down the aisle behind him, three more men appear from just around the corner. He jumps nearly out of his skin, a yelp that you're sure will be heard for miles—soundproofing be damned—but it does pull a laugh out of you, which is the important part, really.
By now you recognize the entirety of the crew enough to place familiarity, though you have not yet had the chance to formally meet them all. In fact, Jeongin is the only member of this group that you do know well enough to have met by name. More pressing than that fact, however, is the fact that one of the other two very much leaves an impression on you that you can't quite shake off.
That you have seen him somewhere before. Not from the bridge, not from dinner or passing amongst each other in the halls. No, you have had some sort of interaction with this man that has nestled itself inside of your memory. What that is… you can't quite place just yet.
One thing you have come to realize is that the majority of this crew is made up of vertically unimpressive men. A fact of the matter, rather than a slight against them, but this one in particular strikes you as interesting on account of not only that, but the work he has clearly put into maintaining a strong and incredibly sturdy physique.
Then, he holds a hand out towards you.
"We've not met officially yet. Seo Changbin. I guess everybody around here sort of has their special little job, huh? So, it's only natural that I tell you mine, get that out of the way from the start. If you need weapons of any kind; new, old, repairs, something you dreamt about that might not even exist yet… You come to me, you hear me? I'm the guy that's gonna make it happen!" He thumbs at himself with a big, proud smile, then goes on to say, "Oh, also any cybernetics stuff. Tech mostly but I also dabble into the physiological stuff a bit since Seungmin is all organic materials. Basically I'm saying if you get an arm blown off we might be able to do something about it, which is pretty cool."
"We've not yet had to do that," Seungmin adds with a sigh, "So our experience is, you could say, incredibly limited. But in theory, sure."
"He's very humble." Changbin shakes his head. "I'm not."
"That's very impressive, and good to have around in case of emergency," you say, genuinely both impressed and intrigued by the concept. "I've heard of cybernetic replacement in some of the larger metropolis cities like the Biodome, but never actually met anyone knowledgeable enough to actually be able to do it."
Leaning himself against the wall beside Jisung, Changbin crosses his arms and continues looking incredibly smug. "Well, can't say I'm looking forward to the day I get to test some theories out… but, ya know."
"Truly a scientist."
"A mad scientist," Seungmin says.
The conversation comes to a natural conclusion, but rather than go back to minding your own business or mingling with the people you have grown the most rapport with, your curiosity has your eyes slowly lifting to the man that is left with no formal introduction, but whose name you already know.
He is tall, much taller than what you have grown accustomed to aboard this ship, and stunning in ways that you can't quite put words to. His body appears to be rather lithe beneath the fabric of his uniform based on the comparison you make between the rest of them, and his hair is cropped shockingly short—clearly in the early stages of growing out from being completely buzzed off not so long ago.
Before you have the chance to look away, his eyes find yours. Unsure of what awaits you, your muscles tense for what you think is soon to be an altercation of some kind. You don't have a lot of information about anything going on here, but you do have enough to know that this man and Minho are deeply close in link.
Then, he smiles.
"Hyunjin," he says rather softly, "Things have been busy around here lately so I haven't had the opportunity to meet you properly. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, it's been something of a mess, for sure." Your voice shakes a little, incredibly unlike you, but the residual fear of a dispute that has not yet come still lingers in your bones. "It's not your fault, I mean, I could have introduced myself, too. But you know… I just didn't know if it was…"
Too much has been said already, the elephant in the room now fully acknowledged despite not being named. If you could kick yourself without being seen you most certainly would do so, instead, you have no other option than to play it cool and pretend nothing completely unwise has been said.
However, Hyunjin laughs a bit in the aftermath of it all, and your eyes widen at the sound of it. His head drops and then shakes a little as he looks down at the ground, then, he turns upwards again to see you.
"I know, didn't know if you were allowed. Probably for the best, if I'm honest with you. You don't want to step on any more toes than you already have. Especially when the toes in question feel continuously and repeatedly trampled on."
"Is it a good idea for us to even be having this conversation now?" you joke. Somewhat.
"Minho isn't my keeper, he doesn't get to decide who I can and can't talk to. It's not like that," Hyunjin says. "He's combative and aggressive and has a wicked violent streak for sure, but he isn't someone who controls me, makes decisions for me. Our history is a bit… It's complicated, as I'm sure you've gathered. We're close, he's just trying to keep me safe."
"He's got a funny way of showing it," you say, scoffing. "Last guy I liked, I just told him to get home safe every night, I wasn't trying to kill everyone who ended up in the same room as him."
He smiles. "Like I said, it's a bit complicated, unfortunately."
The doors to the bridge slide open, and the collection of you outside turn to look inside. Standing at the far end and in front of the control deck is precisely who you expect to see: Chan, arms crossed but with a small smile curled into one corner of his lips.
And right beside him, his lieutenant. No such smile to be seen.
Adala lands at the Krynnor docking station, but your immediate impression of the city is not at all what you feel you have been prepared for.
The buildings are not especially tall, and the heavy, looming clouds of gray cast a shadow across the city. They block the light of the sun from ever meeting the cold, wet cement of a place that has evidently long since been left to be forgotten—yet people still live here. People always find a way to live.
Those people, assumed to be Krynnor natives, greet you and Chan's crew as the group of you step onto the initial platform. Their uniforms are simple and heavily worn through the years even at a glance, but their smiles never waver in spite of the hardship they have almost certainly faced.
"Welcome to Krynnor," a small, blonde woman says. A scar sits just above her eye and through the center of her eyebrow. No hair grows in that place any longer. "Is this your first visit? Is there anything we can assist you with?"
Chan brings a hand up and waves the offer away kindly. "No, no. Just here for a meeting with a friend. It's been a long time, I'll tell you. But I have a crew now since the last time we met, you know? Can't just leave them on the ship, yeah?"
The other woman smiles in response to that. Short, black hair that hugs the line of her jaw. Less friendly in general appearances compared to the other one. "Of course, a lovely opportunity to stretch your legs and enjoy the sights. Please do take care, and don't be afraid to return to us for any inquiries that you may have while you are here."
"Sure, I will."
After navigating the winding dock and finally stepping foot onto solid, Krynnor ground, Chan lags behind the group to stand nearest to you—already hanging out as the last to be in line.
"So, what do you reckon?"
You look at him, taking in the minute details of his face upon asking you such a question. It's not for nothing, he wouldn't ask for no reason, but you know perfectly well the sight of a test when you see one.
"The locals seem friendly enough," you start, "But I think it's for show. My guess is your initial read of this place is right on the money and word has gotten around more than they might like, so they're trying to clean house straight out of the gate to drop any defenses someone might have upon entry." Your eyebrows pop upwards for a second, as if the next thought you have is the most obvious one in the world and you say, "I hope I'm wrong, but I don't think I am."
"It's a criminal city through-and-through," he says, doubling down on his understanding of the place from that first meeting about it on the bridge. "Put some nice, pretty girls at the front and hope most of the guys coming into this place are too stupid to see past it. It's not a bad plan, given the usual type of folks that come around."
"But you're immune, I suppose."
He glances at you from the corner of his eye. "Not immune, but I'm here for something a bit more important than the company of women, respectfully."
"And do I get to know why it is that we're here?" you ask, before quickly rearranging the thought and resubmitting it as, "Do I get to know why I'm here?"
"I told you why you're here," Chan says, another thing that is apparently so obvious, based on the tone of his voice. "We might need the extra hands, especially hands as useful as yours. As for me…"
His words trail off into nothing, and though the two of you continue walking in a few moments of silence, you take the opportunity to look around you.
Run down buildings, broken concrete walkways and gutters that have been so neglected the trash that clogs them might be a hopeless endeavor if one were to attempt to clean them out. Krynnor has nothing to offer at a glance, which means the sort of scum that spends its time here is the kind that knows information not commonly found through simpler, more pleasant pathways.
He sighs, and the torment that rests behind it is clear. You know already that whatever he may say is only a fraction of what will be left unspoken. Everyone has damage, especially out here.
"Let me at least get a drink in my hand before we dive into that. Besides, I have the feeling being seen without the company of a woman around these parts is enough to raise a suspicious red flag all by itself."
Minho leads the charge at the head of the group, through unmarked streets and past numerous city-dwellers with something to either sell, or request. You know the plan well, having already been briefed back on the ship, so once he gives the signal and the short alley comes to an end, the crew begins to split off into their assigned groups.
Though still quite a distance away from the destination, there is no difficulty in spotting it from where you and Chan stand. The building is not much taller than those around it, but it is longer and clearly holds much more space inside. A bright, glowing sign hangs over the doorway, blood red and ominous, feeling less like an invitation and more like a warning.
Felix, Jeongin and Jisung go first. You do your best to keep an eye on them as they weave through the small crowd of people littering the outside area of the establishment, but eventually, they disappear inside.
Next up: Chan and yourself.
He nudges you lightly, as if alerting you of the fact, but you're well aware of it without the reminder. You've embarked on missions similar to this one more times than you can keep count of, so the anxiety that you're feeling in relation to it all seems somewhat unwarranted. Perhaps it is your declining health, or being in a place that you are not at all familiar with. Far from home, far from the safety of things that you know and understand. Very near to people—even on your own side—that couldn't care less if you make it out of this dead or alive.
At the very least, you have Chan.
Changbin, Seungmin, Hyunjin and Minho are left to the tail end of entry. Suppose there is a method to Chan's reasoning as far as that is concerned. Send the hot-heads inside ahead of the rest so that they can set up shop in the event that things turn, and already have their footing to light the place up if anything goes awry.
The two of you walk towards the entrance, and you do your best to ignore the eyes that follow. Whether it be a general curiosity or the fact that the two of you clearly don't belong here, you can't be sure, but it becomes all the more reason to make this trip as quick as feasibly possible.
At the door, a large, burly man dressed in dark red stands beneath the vermillion hue. His arms are crossed and he does nothing more than stare at the both of you upon your approach, entirely unmoved by your being there.
"Say," Chan begins, leaning towards the man with a wry grin on his face. "You wouldn't happen to have a place I can take my… guest, would you? You know, something real nice, real special."
It's a façade, that much you know, but that knowledge does little to stave off the eerie creep that stretches across your skin.
However, the man nods once, moves aside, and grants entry without a hitch.
Entering into the first, small room—all black walls and red lights—you look at the coats that hang on the racks and sigh in relief at the fact that the two of you have made it inside. How the first three made it, you can't begin to fathom, or maybe the man at the door is another thing just for show here, too.
Another sign catches your eye then, this one far less boisterous than the one on the outside. It shows the silhouette of a person with horns atop their head, and a large, red X plastered over them.
You can't help but reel at the sight, because you've heard of this before but rarely ever seen it for your very own eyes.
Nudging Chan, you nod towards it and say, "No levva?"
"Old fashioned sort of place, I see." His words are calm, but there is a distinct change in his demeanor that you cannot write off as anything other than pertinent. Still, he shakes it off quickly and begins to move towards the rest of the club. "Let's find a spot near the doorway, for now."
Though the place is far from empty, it doesn't appear to be an especially bustling evening, either. There are plenty of people littered around the bars or close to the staircase, but only a few of the tables are occupied, and Chan picks the one nearest to the entrance but tucked into the corner to set up shop for the night.
Drinks come quickly, as do some small food items that appear to come along with the order. The sign sticks in your mind, however, and you find yourself unable to let the topic fall to the wayside.
"It's a little strange, isn't it? No levva, I mean, how many could they possibly be coming into contact here to require that?"
"Some cities are still stuck in their ways from times long since passed," he reasons, "And quite frankly, this seems like just the kind of place based on what I've seen already."
"Some people have automatic guns fastened into the socket where their organic arm used to be, and these people are worried about a group of people that's thought to be nearly exinct—if not fully extinct."
Smiling slightly, Chan takes a sip of his drink. "You see a guy with a gun for an arm and you know exactly what to expect out of him. Never really know what you're in for with levva, do you?" Another sip. "And they're not extinct, but uncommon, yes. You're not going to have your drink?"
"You'll have to forgive me for not rushing to the occasion. Given last time."
Mouthing an ah, Chan seems to quickly recall the reasons for your disinterest and drops the subject completely. "Doubt we'll be here long, we're not that early."
"Are you meeting someone?"
"Yes."
"That seems… unwise."
You feel the tension of familiarity from behind you, and watch Chan as he looks past you towards the door. Experience tells you not to turn and make your curiosity evident, as his calm reaction to what he has seen is everything you really need to know.
The rest of the crew have arrived.
Slumping back into the booth, Chan sighs and shrugs simultaneously. It would appear that this criticism is one he has heard many times before.
"Don't really have a choice. If I want information—and I do—then I have to go to the people who have it, and unfortunately for me, Krynnor is the place for people with the kind of information that I need."
"Is this in relation to—"
"Yes," he says, interrupting your question. Chan takes his glass into hand once again, has a long, thorough sip from the rim, and seemingly resigns himself to a conversation that he would rather not be having.
"Are you familiar with Aara?"
"Sure, it's that quarantined city past the Deadlands, not too far off from Thaleth."
"Right." Setting his glass down, Chan draws a circle into the table with his finger around it. "The Deadlands weren't always dead, it's just that all this ground around Aara is now also considered to be uninhabitable, the infection wiped it out."
"Yeah, but what's this got to do with you?"
Chan moves his finger and presses it down into the bottom of the shallow glass. He says, "Aara is my home. That's where I'm from."
You look at him for a moment in silence, then at the glass, and then back to him. "Okay, but you can't go there anymore. That's tragic and all but hardly an unheard of story these days. I think you could go to any city and throw a rock—probably hit somebody that's been displaced from somewhere."
"Are you from Nuvia?"
"Yeah, been there all my life except for a short stint I did in the Biodome for specialized training." Finally, you nod a bit and relent to the idea behind the question. "I know, I don't get it, probably never will since it looks like my days are numbered anyway. All I'm saying is… I mean, what are you going to do, realistically? We all know that place is desolate and probably barren by now, too. Even if you went back… the infection is probably still dormant there. Waiting for something to liven things up a bit. What's the plan of action, you know?"
"You've really got a way with comforting words," Chan says through a lighthearted chuckle, "But there is a plan, once I have enough information to actually move forward with it." His attention darts upwards as a slender, cloaked man appears just to your side, but before you have the opportunity to react, a white hand slips out from one of the long sleeves, slides a folded piece of paper across the table, and disappears into the darkness of the room.
"Okay. What the fuck was that?"
"My order just arrived," Chan says with a bitten back glee. He takes the paper into hand, unfolds it to read whatever is written on it, and then folds it a few more times so that it can fit into the front pocket of his pants. "Great news."
"And what's that?"
"Looks like we're moving forward, after all. Now, let's go find the kids."
Towards the back of the building, another hallway rests behind dark, velvet curtains. Another large man stands in front, and once again you know to assume your role.
Walking up to the man, you lean yourself closer to Chan, wrapping your arm around one of his own with a big, sultry smile on your face and a bit of a faux-drunken wobble to your step.
"Heard we can get a bit of privacy back there," Chan says. "I think the girl needs to lie down for a bit."
The man looks down at you with a similarly unmoving expression as the one from before. You wave at him with your free hand, pretending to stumble despite no longer walking. Really selling the part of precisely the kind of woman the men who come here like to have around.
"First fifteen is free, but after that, it's gonna cost ya," he says. "A lot."
But before Chan has the opportunity to respond, a familiar face bursts through from the other side of the closed off curtains.
Changbin throws his arms wide—not unlike the grin upon his face—and rushes towards Chan.
"It's about time you came, really taking your time with this one, aren't you? Don't want to have a rerun of the last… engagement, we had, do you?"
He turns to look at the bouncer, as if the man standing there is supposed to know what it is that he's referring to. As if everyone in current company knows the story.
"This guy… A bit of a sap, I'll tell you. I bring girls around and next thing you know, he's thinking this is his next wife. Wife number five. I keep telling him it's just for fun, can't turn 'em into housewives, you know? Some guys never learn, I guess. He means well. Too well. Oh well, what can you do?"
You want to laugh, but know it's in your best interest to very much not.
"Anyway! Let's bring him on back so he can make his next mistake. It's on me tonight, I'm funding the whole brigade back here!"
Changbin drags the both of you through the curtain without so much as an OK from the guy he has been having a one-sided conversation with, and somehow, it works.
Once the three of you get far enough away, Changbin's character falls away and he flatly says, "I think we have a problem."
Chan reels at that information, perhaps feeling the same whiplash of circumstances that you are. "A problem? How? What could possibly be happening now?"
You pry yourself away from Chan, but realize that your footing on the ground isn't as strong as it should be. You haven't had anything to drink, acting drunk meant to be nothing more than a means for keeping the attention off of you, but now you are finding it difficult to maintain a clear line of sight, and just like that the reminder comes crashing back to you.
"Fuck," you whisper aloud, though both of them hear it and look towards you, "I forgot. I have to…"
You dig through your pockets quickly in an attempt to find the bottle that Seungmin had given you earlier. The sound of what can only be described as a scuffle between bodies is heard from inside one of the nearby rooms, and you know that you don't have the necessary time to deal with all of this at once. Not right now.
"One of the girls, I think she's dirty," Changbin says as the three of you rush towards the place where the commotion is coming from. "I didn't want to barge in without confirmation, but I heard something about money, and it didn't sound like it was in exchange for services."
"Who's in there with her?" Chan asks.
You finally locate the glass bottle, pry to top off, and as you down it all in one swig Changbin looks back at Chan with a grave expression and says, "Hyunjin."
Reaching the door to the private suite, Chan and Changbin pull their guns and settle themselves on each side of the door. Chan knocks twice, waits a brief moment, and then says, "Security! Everything all right in here?"
No reply comes for a while. Too long of a while, but it's the least of your concerns with how drastically your health is waning. You can't help but wonder if you waited too long, perhaps allowed the veskaris to flow through your veins too much for Seungmin's concoction to lend you any further help. An outcome that you don't have the time nor comfort to consider, because just as the strength of your right leg attempts to give out from beneath you, a woman's voice sounds off from the other side of the door.
But not Hyunjin's.
"Everything is fine," she says, tone light and charming. Forced, to your incredibly trained ear. Chan looks back towards you, noticing your dwindling strength, and appears incredibly torn on which problem he is meant to tend to as of now. "My partner, he's just a little tired. What can I say, a job well done if you ask me!"
A simple reply, and all it takes for Chan to make his choice. He turns, takes a step back from the door, and then immediately kicks it down with his gun drawn towards the inside.
Changbin follows immediately after, and you don't know if it's best for you to follow or hang back. You could not possibly be of any use like this—perhaps you should try to fight through it, try to be the person that Chan trusted with this mission—but your lack of foresight has landed you in this incredibly unfortunate predicament.
Catching sight of the inside of the room, the woman jumps backwards with a knife in hand; Hyunjin cuffed and shoved into the corner with his mouth taped over.
"Step back!" Changbin demands, "Put the knife down!"
Once appearing frightened, the woman's face washes clean of the ruse and is replaced with a look of repulsion. "What are you, the cops? Ain't none of those left in Krynnor so you gotta be somethin' else."
"Yeah, something else," Changbin says, gun pointed straight at her as Chan tends to Hyunjin. "You picked the wrong guy, unfortunately for you."
"I wasn't gonna kill him, if that's what you're so worried about," she says, flattening her free hand down over her short, black dress. "I wanted his money, and I got it. If that's gonna be a problem for y'all then I hope you got more where that came from."
Before you have the chance to see it coming, a strong hand grabs you by the arm and forces you into the very same room. Lacking the strength to find your footing, you stumble and fall onto the small, plush couch positioned in the middle of the room.
She looks down at you and makes a disappointed face. "Yeah, you're gonna need more than that."
"That's okay," an additional voice says. You turn your head towards the entrance to find what you can only assume is the rest of the crew, but positionally, Felix stands in the doorway with an explosive of some kind clutched into his palm and Jeongin with the tip of his gun digging right into the temple of the man who only just brought you in here. "They got more."
But much to your surprise, the woman laughs. Eyes rolling and arms crossing over her chest as if only mildly perturbed by the way all of this is going for her. Amused, even—the demeanor of someone in not as dire a situation as the circumstances might lead one to believe.
You know there are more coming.
"We have to get out of here," you say, weak. "Now."
Chan asks Hyunjin if he is hurt, if he can walk, and Hyunjin gives the signal that he's perfectly well to make it out of this. From behind the crowd in the doorway, Jisung makes a sharp, high-pitched sound as if startled, and then immediately says to the rest of you, "We got more coming! We gotta get out of here."
"Move!" Watching bodies be shoved away from the door, Minho bullies his way into the room and beelines straight for Chan and Hyunjin. "You're okay?" he asks, and when Hyunjin nods, Minho turns towards the woman and places his gun straight at the center of her forehead.
"I'll blow your brains all over this room and let your lackeys clean up the mess, if they survive getting through us to do so, that is."
She chuckles again. "Oh, you think I'm the ringleader in this whole endeavor? Go ahead, there's a thousand other whores where I came from, darling."
Minho walks forward, closing the space between their bodies and pushing the tip of his gun just that much harder into her head, so much so that she cannot help but falter beneath the pressure and hiss at the feeling of metal digging into her skin.
"I don't care who the ringleader is, you're the one who's here now, and that's plenty good enough for me."
"Either pull the trigger or don't but we have to go!" Changbin yells, and though it appears to take a moment for the words to register in Minho's mind, he slowly pulls away and makes space between them once more.
"Too late," Jeongin says. You hear a sound that you've heard before—timed mini-bomb activating—then the subsequent smaller beeps of the ticks before it detonates.
"Minho," Chan says quietly, words that are supposed to be meant only for them but within the closed space, it's an impossibility. "You have to. There's no other way."
The lieutenant's face twists into something ugly, something offended by the mere implication of whatever Chan has just said to him. He says, "Are you out of your mind? Not a chance!"
"We don't know how many of them there are, she's down for the count, we can't get everyone out like this!"
The bomb explodes and the walls shake, small pieces from the ceiling coming dislodged and cascading down around you. Following that, a cacophony of gunfire from down the hall.
You try to gain your bearings, willing the mixture to work faster against the veskaris as it wreaks havoc on your body. Though your vision is becoming more steady, your muscles are still weak as you bring yourself back up to a standing position. You don't want Chan to be right, you don't want to put Minho in a position to do whatever it is that he clearly does not want to do—not for you, not like this.
"Just—" Minho looks towards you, and you know exactly what it is that he wants to say. Leave her, words that are written all over his face and intensified by the snarl curled into his lips. "What, is that an order?"
"You know I would never order this from you," Chan reasons, calm and understanding.
Minho turns to face Hyunjin, almost as if deferring to him. The two do not speak for what feels like an eternity, all of their communication done silently and without a single word said aloud.
But the look that Hyunjin gives is not the answer that Minho is seeking.
"Fuck," he breathes out. His eyes close, head dropping forward, defeated. When it comes back up, his eyes are open once again. He turns towards the woman as if contemplating killing her all over again if for no other reason than a misplaced belief that it will rid him of entangled feelings. Ultimately, he does no such thing.
Your surroundings begin to bend and reshape, the walls and furniture melting into the floor and eventually, into nothing entirely. Darkness envelops everything except for the bodies of the people that you have gone into the disastrous endeavor with.
The silence is impossibly loud and utterly empty simultaneously, your form feeling as though you exist everything and nowhere all at once. It's overwhelming to try to make sense of—especially in your condition—and the viciousness of the veskaris briefly seems to take hold of your consciousness once more.
With heavy eyelids, you begin to succumb to the sleep that is demanded of you, and right before you close your eyes you catch the sight of that distinct, greenish hue blossoming at the top of the heads of both.
Brooo, just hit 1000 media in my porn folder on my phone (with your corruption taking a good majority of that) Already got two pizzas on the way to help celebrate and take a nice looonnggg nostalgia trip bating to my folder. Can't wait to reach the next milestone and double my porn and calorie intake. Keep posting bro, the more my porn folder expands, the bigger my waistline expands too 🐽
1000 is rookie numbers, bator! You can download 100 images in a single night. I need you to double those numbers now. Two pizzas is a perfect dinner for a couchbound handhumper with a greedy appetite... but what will you be having for dessert?
It is important that you boys don't slack on your intake while you stare mindlessly at your phone screen for the umpteenth hour. It is mission critical that you remain within the minimum calorie guidelines for your body.
Total Daily Energy Expenditure (TDEE) is the measure of how many calories your body burns simply by existing. That's right--anyone who ever told you that you can't lose weight by sitting around has never studied nutrition. If you don't know your TDEE, there are many calculators you can use. The instructions are simple: punch in your sex assigned at birth (unless on HRT); age; height and weight; and your average activity level.
It is VERY IMPORTANT that you log activity level accurately. If you are a chronic bator, like our dear asker, then you must enter activity as "athlete". This is because gooning is a highly physical activity despite sitting (typically) through a session. Think, what is the different between a typical exercise routine and a proper goon session? Both will have your blood pumping and your body moving for at least one hour... most chronic bators can exceed four or five hours in one session. If you haven't started a bating habit, I implore you to. It's for your health.
Now that you've punched in your stats, your calculator will spit out a calorie value. If you consume less than this value, you will lose weight, and vice versa. My daily minimum based on this is ~3500 a day--a significant difference compared to the oft regurgitated "2000 calories a day" minimum. This will help you stay happy and healthy without withering away as you pursue the true joys of living.
Now, with that over, we return to our porn addicted pumper. I always suggest supplementing with liquid calories (e.g. boost, alcohol, sugar soda, whole or full fat dairy products, protein shakes) and reducing or conflicting activities from your schedule. Make a conscious effort to increase your intake while simultaneously reducing your output. Hopefully this lesson will help you properly adjust as you force more batefuel into your brain and hard drive.
For the boys who aren't in the know, I run a much more debaucherous twitter account full of gooner encouragement, loserification content, and other gainer brainworms that will happily fuck your mind while you fuck your fist.
Come check it out... but I would block a few days hours out of your busy schedule... ;)
Hey guysss (•᷄ᴗ•᷅ ᵕ) sorry I know it's been a while since I've updated... but trust me it's for a good reason! I've been reveling in my latest success & now that the excitement has died down a bit, I wanted to come on here and share.
I created this blog to hold myself accountable. At the end of the day, everything you need to create your desired reality is within you already. I knew this, yet I felt so far from where I wanted to be. Anyone who has read my earlier posts knows that I've been steadily rebuilding my understanding and relationship with conscious manifestation, and it seems that I finally have it down.
I've been job searching all year. I got interview after interview, graduated from a great school, and had strong work experience behind me, yet nothing seemed to stick. I was desperate for whatever I could get, even though every job I was interviewing for had something or the other that I didn't quite like (location, pay, function). After ~8 months of this + doomscrolling toxic motivational LOA tweets, I realized I needed to take a step back. Obviously whatever I was doing wasn't working and, by then, I was beyond burnt out. I decided to take my mind off of manifesting & job searching, and just heal my mind and heart for a while.
At the beginning of October, I finally felt ready enough to throw myself back into it. I started this blog and took the pressure off of affirming a million times a day. I decided that, rather than using a method to actively manifest a job, my only responsibility was to ignore negative circumstances. It's not that I necessarily stopped experiencing minor negative events here and there, I simply stopped assigning meaning to them.
In one of my previous posts about Unwanted Circumstances, I discussed dealing with another job rejection. Despite wanting to be employed, I had my qualms with the role. It didn't pay much, had extensive work hours, required me to move out of my house/away from my family to be closer to work (in the city where the rent is disgustingly high), and was super pro-military (which disagrees with my moral code). When the rejection came, I wasn't even phased by it — I knew I was aligned for something better.
Cut to just a few weeks later: I've signed an offer letter for a job that pays me way more in base salary alone, plus bonuses and stock options. On top of that, I get to save money and live at home like I wanted, and I only have to go into the office 3 days a week. I'll also get to travel every so often for this role (company funded, of course), which I am very excited for.
Now that this blog has started to get more attention, with it has come a bit of hate. If you think I'm limiting for being honest about the negative things that have happened to me, so be it; but I made this account to document my journey towards my inevitable success in the most candid way possible. I hope that by showing both my ups and my downs, I can help others in this community feel less bad about not being perfect 100% of the time. I share the not-so-pretty parts of me on here to demonstrate that it truly does. not. matter. You can fall on your butt a million times and as long as you keep picking yourself back up (even if it means taking a step back from everything like I did), it will all be okay, I promise.
I hope this success of mine has sparked inspiration or hope for someone out there. There is much more success to come, I'm sure, so stay tuned as I continue to share my indefinite journey on here :-) Please know that your reality is not confined to the negative things you experience. Life can completely change for you at any moment, just keep believing .⋆˙⟡♡
A/N: This was originally a 10 minute free writing exercise loosely based on this scenario from @aventurineswife where Reader and Anaxagoras were attacked by bandits. I didn't keep the shapeshifter Reader mentioned in the scenario, but I really like the idea of Reader and Anaxagoras battling bandits. He fights the black tide in his trailer, but I was curious what it would look like if he had to fight like actual human enemies. As I continued my free write, this was what I wound up with.
Summary: A rumor spreads throughout the Grove of Epiphany about raiders who stole scrolls from the Kremnoan Prince's library before Castrum Kremnos fell to the Black Tide. With the Helkotithism Sage recovering in the Twilight Courtyard, you and Anaxagoras find yourself on a mission to recover those stolen scrolls.
Pairing: Anaxagoras x Grove of Epiphany Student!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
If one were to ask the titan of reason about what types of knowledge should be destroyed versus kept, you would not get an answer. Much like how the Grove of Epiphany allows scholars of all kinds to study under Cerces, it too allows the flow of information.
With the black tide slowly encroaching on Amphoreus, cities are lost, and so too is the knowledge they've accumulated. For scholars from the Grove, knowledge is priceless. But for anything priceless, it is valuable. Anything valuable can be the target of thieves and raiders.
All the way in bloodstained ruins of Castrum Kremnos, home of the demigod of Strife, you and Anaxagoras were chasing after a hoard of raiders that had reportedly stolen scrolls from the Kremnoan Prince's library. Rumor had it that hidden inside the scrolls, was knowledge unlike anything seen in Amphoreus before. Though the rumors were enticing, they were just that. Rumors with no evidence.
With Anaxagoras tied up in his research and his teaching duties, you became the one he fell back on when he was assigned this mission. How you got assigned this mission with him, you had no idea. You considered yourself an okay student, but tried to stay under Anaxagoras's radar. You did "dabble" in Kremnoan history, reading books and the like, but that was only for fun. It was something you didn't want to tie your academic career around. You knew that.
But when one of the seven sages assigns you a mission, as a student of the Grove, you have no choice. You couldn't refuse.
While Anaxagoras wasn't one to readily head out to the battlefield and wouldn't normally do something like this, it fell to him after the rest of the Sages were either away on business or handling other matters. It also didn't help that the head Sage of the Helkolithism school of thought was currently recuperating in the Twilight Courtyard under the watchful eye of Hyacine after a practical application accident; one that Anaxagoras saw coming, allegedly. But when you pressed him for more information, he refrained from saying anything further, saying that he does not entertain speculation.
While you weren't a Helkotithism scholar, you did participate in some of the weekly training sessions they held at the Grove. All the physical activity was a nice change of pace from reading scrolls all day, and you enjoyed it. The people you trained with were amazed at how proficient you became. You weren't so sure though. Practice matches were one thing. But a real life and death fight was another.
As your investigation with Anaxagoras continued, you poured over evidence. Everything from eyewitness accounts and suspicious reports to maps of Castrum Kremnos. After comparing the movements of the raiders and where they had been spotted along with maps of Castrum Kremnos, both of you were able to narrow down the area where they were likely hiding.
Under the darkness of Evernight, you and Anaxagoras were hiding behind a stone pillar. Both of you have been slowly moving closer to their hideout. Your heart pounded. You took deep breaths to calm yourself down. Your eyes fell on the tattered backpacks that littered the ground. They were unnaturally gathered together, almost as if they had been placed there intentionally.
You turned to look at him, confused. "Professor Anaxagoras, they're still not back yet. Should we-"
Anaxagoras held out his hand, interrupting your train of thought. He stopped you from getting closer to the backpacks. His voice dripped with sarcasm. His hand reached for the gun at his waist. "We have some uninvited guests, or, should I say, rats?"
"Rats?!" yelled a voice from nearby.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Anaxagoras taunts. A sly smirk on his face.
You copied Anaxagoras to get into a battle ready stance. Your fingers moved toward the sword at your waist and wrapped around the grip. "Professor-"
"Don't interrupt me," he hisses, only speaking loudly enough for you to hear. He raises his finger to his lips, telling you to keep quiet.
Snap!
A cracking tree branch echoed in the air. Anaxagoras turned his head and aimed a bullet in the general direction. In a flash, his gun lit up as he fired a bullet. The crack of the bullet was heard, followed by a groan. A hit!
"Oh, still alive?" Anaxagoras's words dripped with sarcasm. "What a pity."
You grimaced. Your mind flashed back to the conversation you and Anaxagoras had when planning your confrontation with the raiders. Anaxagoras had informed you ahead of time that while he would shoot, his goal was not to kill. His goal was the stolen scrolls.
"GRRRAAAHHH! You'll pay for that!"
An angry raider burst out of the area, clutching his bleeding chest. His eyes burned with hatred as he stared daggers into Anaxagoras. The raider was soon joined by six others, who came out of their hiding spots, surrounding both you and Anaxagoras. You were struck by their dingy clothes and the fabric covering their faces. It was clear that they had been outside for a while.
Anaxagoras saw things differently. His gaze swept over the people that surrounded both of you. His eyes narrowed. Something didn't add up. He spoke, his haughty attitude laced through every single word.
"Pay? I am but a frail scholar. But all of you," Anaxagoras's sharp gaze turned on the bleeding raider in front of him, "are nothing but rats hiding in the dark."
"HAHAHA," laughed the bloodied raider. "Well, these rats were saved by Nikador themselves!" The laughter of the rest of their compatriots joined his words.
"Nikador saved us!"
"We called out to him and he came!"
"Nikador saved us from the black tide!"
A cacophony of noise came from raiders from behind you. You spun on your heels, and pulled out your sword. You held it in front of you with bated breath. While you used a sword in the weekly training sessions, it felt heavier holding it in your hand now. Your grip tightened. If any of the raiders moved towards either of you, you were ready.
Anaxagoras's face twisted into a manic grin. His jaw tensed. His fingers curled over the metal handle of his gun. "You really think Nikador would save humans because they asked? I regret to inform you all, but Nikador has forsaken you! You say he saved you, but to me, it looks like you've been left here to die."
"YOU!"
You saw the raider move before you heard them yell. You saw them head straight for Anaxagoras, their eyes wild and crazed. Your body moved on instinct, and raised your sword to counter the knife in their hands. You got to the raider before they could reach Anaxagoras.
CLANG!
The metal of your sword met the metal of the knife in the raider's hand. You tightened your grip on your sword, and used your strength to push the raider away.
Unfortunately though, you heard the rapid footsteps approaching from all sides. The other raiders used their comrade's lunge to launch an all out assault on you and Anaxagoras.
You scrambled to get back into a defensive stance. You hear another person's footsteps barrelling towards you, and spin around.
CLANG!
Your sword blocked the spear pointed at you.
In the corner of your eye, you could see the raider with the knife rushing towards you. With a yell, you manage to repel the spear raider, and dodge the one with a knife.
You let out a frustrated huff as you hid behind a nearby crumbled wall. You were racking your brain. You didn't want to kill these raiders, but there had to be a way to disarm them.
"Come now, is that all?"
You heard Anaxagoras's taunts and turned to look. He was facing down three of the raiders by himself. A fourth one was already lying on the floor, unmoving.
You were struck speechless at how he moved: decisive and deliberate. He allowed the raiders to get just close enough to him, before moving out of the way. In that sense, his actions mimicked his debate style - taunting the enemy just enough and maneuvering them into his trap to show how outmatched they are.
You watched as he used everything he could at his disposal. If an enemy dodged his bullets, he followed up with a kick, and then a tactical retreat, before he starting his assault again. He never fell into a predictable pattern. It brought to mind this phrase you heard from one of the other scholars who went to the Helkolithism sessions, "All's fair in love and war." Love wasn't applicable now, but war definitely was.
Seeing Anaxagoras's actions gave you an idea.
You turned towards the two raiders rushing towards you. You gripped the sword, and made a move to slash at them from the side. When they moved their weapons to block your strike, you crouched, and swept at their feet instead. The two raiders tripped over you, and flew forward into a nearby pillar.
You heard them slam hard, face-first against the pillar. You swore that you heard their bones crack from the impact. You winced. You watched their bodies slide down the pillar. You watched them carefully to see if either of them would get up. Neither of them did.
Assured that those two raiders wouldn't be getting up anytime soon, you ran to help Anaxagoras. You got there just in time, as two raiders launched an attack - one in front of him, and the other behind him. You moved to intercept the raider launching at attack at his back.
The next thing you felt was pain radiating from your arm. Blood dripped down your arm, as you stared murderous daggers at the smug raider across from you. You clenched your jaw. You wanted to wipe that damn smile off of the raider's face.
The raider launched another attack at you. You raised your sword to block the attack, but stopped suddenly when you felt pain radiate up it.
Anaxagoras yelled, "Get down! NOW!"
You didn't question. You didn't ask why. You obeyed, and ducked down.
A moment later, a bullet whizzed by your face, striking the raider in the arm. He dropped the pike he was holding, and covered his bleeding shoulder.
Seeing the opening Anaxagoras gave you, you rushed towards the raider. You kicked his knees at an angle, and the raider fell down onto the stone.
You looked down at the raider and hoped he wouldn't get up. He was bleeding from his shoulder, but he was still breathing. You pleaded in your mind, but the words slipped out from you before you knew it. "Please don't get up. Please."
Anaxagoras walked up beside you. "Please? Really?"
You sighed. "I was talking out loud, okay?"
"Then don't be surprised when people respond," said Anaxagoras.
You rolled your eyes. Of course he would have something to say. Your gaze swept over the seven hoarders now on the floor. Some were moving, some were not, but all of them, you think, are still breathing.
You follow Anaxagoras to a small dirt mound. It was freshly made, as evidenced by the fact that it didn't match its surroundings. You knelt down next to him and pointed at the mound.
"Here?"
He nodded. "The backpacks we saw earlier were a distraction. If we had gone straight for them, we would have been trapped. There were bottles in those bags. Explosions most likely, probably designed to go off as we fought."
"Bottles? How do you know that?"
"Scrolls don't make backpacks stand up vertically," said Anaxagoras, dryly.
"Okay, okay." You raised your hands in surrender. "You're right, Professor Anaxagoras."
"I'll have you dig up the scrolls in question. But before then, use this to staunch the bleeding." Anaxagoras yanked at the blue fabric around his waist, tore off part of it, and held it out to you.
"Thank you, Professor." You took the fabric from him. You tied the fabric around your arm where you got cut from the raider, making sure to fold the fabric so that it put pressure on your wound. You made a mental note to thank Hyacine later for that first aid seminar she put on.
After a few minutes putting pressure on the wound, the bleeding seemed to stop. However, the fabric was still wet with blood. Anaxagoras tore off another strip from the blue fabric around his waist and held it out.
"Switch."
"Thank you, Professor." You nodded. You untied the make-shift dressing, drenched in blood. You put it off to the side, and wiped away some of the dried blood around the wound. It was sore, but at least it wasn't bleeding. You re-dressed the wound like you did previously, using the clean fabric piece he gave you to wrap around the cut on your arm.
Once you were done re-dressing the cut on your arm, Anaxagoras held out a small tool. A spade. Probably for you to use to dig out the scrolls.
You took the tool from him and started to dig up the dirt from the dirt mound. Thankfully though, you didn't have to dig too deeply. You stopped when you uncovered most of the dirt on top of the scrolls.
Anaxagoras picked up the scroll in his hands and opened it. His eyes quickly scanned the scroll. He rolled his eyes.
"Of course." Anaxagoras murmured to himself.
"Professor Anaxagoras? Is something wrong?"
Anaxagoras paused. "No. Let's bring these back to the Grove. When we get there, go straight to Hyacinthia. Get treated, and tell her to meet me in my office afterwards."
You raised an eyebrow, confused. "O…kay?"
After you got back to the Grove, you followed Professor Anaxagoras's instructions. You got treated by Hyacine, and told her what he told you. She nodded and immediately went to him after treating you.
As you sat in your home with your bandaged arm, the adrenaline from the earlier fight with the raiders slowly started to wear off. The exhaustion started to hit you like a ton of bricks. Your legs felt weak like jelly, and you felt the ache in your arms. You looked at your hands as you realized, you had just fought in an actual battle and won. Granted, Anaxagoras took care of most of them, but you were amazed that you held your own. You did it.
You put your hand in your pocket and took out the bloodstained piece of fabric Anaxagoras tore from his clothing to help stop the bleeding from the cut on your arm. You offered to wash it and return it, but he refused, saying that he'll fix his outfit later. As your mind drifted back to the fight, the bloodstained cloth felt like a reminder and a challenge: although you lived this time, you had a long way to go. Next time you had to fight, you resolved that you would come out of there without a scratch, like Professor Anaxagoras.
In the days following the successful mission to retrieve the scrolls, you heard whispers about what happened afterwards.
You heard that after the fight with the raiders in Castrum Kremnos, Anaxagoras and Hycaine went back. They were treated by Hyacine and then turned over to Aglaea in Okhema. You didn't hear about what happened to them after that though.
But the biggest rumor you heard came later after the incident. You heard the scrolls the Helkolithists sage wanted, the one the raiders "stole" were fake. The biggest tell? They were written in Okheman. You heard that Anaxagoras laughed in the face of the Helkolithists sage, before launching into a lecture about verifying one's sources first before coming to conclusions. Despite the truth of their origin, the "stolen scrolls" were kept by the Grove. Not due to their innate knowledge, but as a reminder to always do one's due diligence before coming to a conclusion.
