When you arrived home after a long day of work and smelled
the roast, you knew Harry was up to something.
Either he wanted to talk over a very important decision with
you, or the tabloids were about to—if they hadn’t already—print a false or
prying story about you and he wanted to take your mind off it. However, you
still smiled as you slipped off your shoes and jacket.
It was the little things. That’s what no one told you about
marriage. Marriage wasn’t all about the Instagram posts praising each other, or
the mind-blowing sex, or the grand statements of affection. It was the foot
rubs after a long day, a roast in the oven as soon as you came home from work,
and the quick forehead kiss in the early morning when he woke before you. Those
little things kept the love alive.
Summary: Not being able to take any more of Jimin’s passionate rants about you, the boys decide to take matters in their own hands and send their dear friend a howler.
A/N: The spell that is used by Jimin toward the end is not a legit spell. I just made it up myself. Also, I know that in Hogwarts, you’re typically assigned a dorm with people of your same year (I could be wrong, I can’t remember) but for the sake of this AU, let’s just pretend you are free to chose your roommates & Jimin just so happened to chose Yoongi. This is actually the one-shot idea that inspired me to write a Slytherin Jimin AU.
You sat down in your usual spot, across from Yoongi,
narrowing your eyes at the other boys seated at your table. You were familiar
with them since they hung around Yoongi and Jimin a lot, but you found it
strange that they were seated at the Slytherin table, despite their differing
houses. No one seemed to mind the breaking from the status quo and if they did,
they didn’t voice it out loud. No one wanted to mess with seven of the best
wizards in Hogwarts or Bangtan Boys, as they called themselves.
“Good morning,” You greeted slowly, eyes narrowing as they
all turned to look at you with a coy smile. Something was up and as your gaze
landed on a smiling Jungkook—that boy could not keep a straight face,
especially when he was up to no good—you weren’t sure whether you wanted to
know the reason behind their anomalous behavior.
Couldn’t be anything good, that’s for sure, so you decided
to not question it and focused on the mouth-watering arrangement of breakfast
foods on your table instead.
You couldn’t help but notice that someone was missing from
your group. “Where’s Jimin?”
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LOVE! (You know who you are. Since you’re celebrating your day of birth, I felt like I should give you this gift [since it’s the only gift I can give you].)
**Although this was written with a specific person in mind, I hope you all still enjoy this thing.**
Warnings: Smut, Language, badly written fluff
Word Count: 2601
His lips brushed lightly over your own, and he pulled you closer, rocking you back and forth slowly, “I missed you.” He smiled warmly at you, leaning his forehead against yours. You laced your fingers together behind his back and pulled back to look at him, “I missed you too.”
Your eyes flew open, and you stared up at your ceiling, groaning audibly. Of course this would happen to you. In the six months that you lived under the same roof as Mino, you’d dreamed of him four times. Three of which were the kind of sweet that would leave cavities in one’s teeth. And one……couldn’t be talked about. Your face grew hot at the mere thought of that blessed and cursed dream that had you shook for days. Sighing, you threw off your covers and rolled out of bed, Mino was away for work -again-, and with his presence being so big, the house felt empty without him.
Having no reason to leave the house today, you decided to bake something to occupy your time. As you padded down the hallway on bare feet, you were low key grateful for the time away from Mino. Without him around, it gave you a chance to push away those forbidden feelings that you were starting to develop for him. He was your roommate, and completely off limits. He felt like a ladies man. He just had that air about him. Like he could have any and every woman he set his eyes on. He could even get the attention of women that seemingly had no interest in him at all. You’d seen in action once.
The two of you had gone out for dinner one night after spending time at one of the various art galleries downtown, and there was a group of older women seated three tables away from you. They kept throwing disgusted looks in your direction any time either of you laughed too loudly. It was awkward and made you want to leave. Being the object of such scrutiny was never fun. One of them so called herself reprimanding the two of you for being disruptive in such a quiet setting, and watching Mino use his charms to get his way was both amazing, and unsettling. If it was that easy for him to woo a woman that wanted nothing to do with him, imagine how easy it would be to woo someone that had interest in him? Someone like you.
When the woman stopped at your table, at first, Mino ignored her, choosing instead to carry on your conversation like the woman’s existence didn’t matter in the slightest. But you had become unable to focus on him when the woman refused to leave. You watched in awkward silence as he finally acknowledged her. He turned to her slowly, leaning his cheek onto his closed fist, lifting an eyebrow curiously, “Is there something I can help you with?” She folded her arms over her chest and made it clear that she was upset, “I-I…you two are a bit loud. Couldn’t you keep it down? We’re trying to have dinner over there.” He tilted his head up to her, looking as if he were genuinely concerned with her issue. For a moment, he said nothing. His gaze was so concentrated that it made you feel some type of way, and you weren’t the one he was looking at. You watched the woman’s stance change in a matter of seconds.
She seemed so angry when she first approached the two of you, and now she was shifting from foot to foot, looking as if she would pass out. He dropped his hand to the table and leaned closer to the woman as if he were about to pass along a secret, gaze steady, “We’ll be quieter.” He winked and she went wide-eyed, stunned. “Oh! You’re no trouble! Sorry for disturbing you!” She scrambled to assure him, waving her hands frantically in front of her. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty upset.” He smiled. She nodded quickly, reassuring him that the two of you were free to continue as you were. How is it that she was the one apologizing when technically it was the two of you in the wrong?
Reaching the expansive kitchen, you smiled to yourself. This was the kind of kitchen that was the stuff of someone’s dreams. Granite counter tops, cherry wood cabinets, stainless steel appliances. The ultimate kitchen that anyone would love to cook in. Opening the refrigerator, you thought about what you could do with the ingredients you had. Being so deep in thought, you hadn’t heard Mino come home. You stood with the refrigerator door open, not really looking at what was inside. You were too lost in your own head to see anything. You’d been envisioning all the different dishes you could make that you’d forgotten that you were even standing in front of the fridge in the first place. “The purpose of a refrigerator, is to keep the food cold, ____________.” The handle was snatched from your hand as the door shut in your face. You blinked up at him and it was only then that you realized how close he was to your face. His cologne filled your nostrils and you stared at him in silence for the longest three seconds in your life. “I….hi.” He smiled at you and leaned closer, “Missed you, roomie.” He knocked your chin lightly with his knuckles, breaking the trance you’d fallen into. “Yeah, sure.”
Mino pouted, tilting his head to the side playfully, “What? You didn’t miss me?” Yes. “No.” “And to think, I rushed all the way home.” He tsked, shaking his head as if he were disappointed in you. But you knew this was all jokes. There wasn’t a chance in hell he would be upset about you saying you didn’t miss him. At least, that’s what you told yourself, choosing to ignore the look in his eyes. You weren’t about to read into this situation when it would come out later that what you thought you saw wasn’t what was actually there. He moved away from you and turned to leave, hesitating at the entryway of the kitchen, “Get dressed, roomie. We’ve got some exploring to do today.” You’d forgotten that you were supposed to block out an entire day for him when he got back from wherever it was he went off to for work. Your shoulders drooped as you followed him out of the kitchen. You no longer had the time to lose yourself in the mouth-watering smells of food cooking. No, you had to spend the day with the man you’d been dreaming about regularly. How fun.
“Hurry up, __________.We’re almost there.” Mino was too far ahead of you for him to here the string of curse words falling from your lips as you struggled up the path behind him. You’d been walking for hours and your legs were starting to protest. “Where are we even going?” You whined. “You’ll see when we get there.” He called over his shoulder. You were starting to regret leaving the house. It was way too hot outside and the trail you were walking barely had any shade. The sun was beating down on you with such an intensity that you contemplated -more than once-, shaving your hair off. The camera around your neck seemed heavier now than it did when you’d first started off on this adventure. “Mino! Slow the fuck down! I’m dying out here!” You yelled at him as he disappeared from your line of vision. “Fuck this..” You huffed, throwing yourself down on to a nearby rock, putting your head between your knees. The recognizable crunching sound of gravel being crushed under shoes started off far away, and then became loud enough for you to know that Mino had turned around and come back. “____________, you’re going to miss it if you don’t hurry up.” Miss what? What could possibly be more important than the way your legs throbbed? Mino sighed in exasperation, pulling you to your feet and supporting most of your weight. “Let’s go.”
You groaned, begrudgingly allowing him to pull you up the trail. “Wel’re almost there. You’ll be able to sit down soon.” You rolled your eyes and groaned again. This was torture, and you were sure you were going to die of dehydration soon. The two of you walked in silence, concentrating on not falling over on the uneven path. Mino’s grip on you was firm, and you could have sworn his thumb was rubbing circles into your side. Nah. No way. It was the heat messing with you. Song Mino was not touching you like that. Did people normally do that when helping someone walk up a mountain? You had to stop thinking about it, or your knees would give out. You chose to focus on the way your shoes looked as you walked up the trail. “We’re here.” Mino announced suddenly, no longer walking. You looked up from the ground at where you were and your knees almost gave out for real. It was gorgeous. You’d been walking for so long that you’d lost track of time. The sun had started to set, casting a rich, yellow hue over the tops of the rocky hills. It was like the trails had been touched by Midas, painting everything in gold. “Wow..” You breathed in amazement. You were at a loss for words. All that walking suddenly seemed totally worth it as you looked all around you. “It’s beautiful.” You sniffled, suddenly getting teary-eyed at the sunset. “Yes…you are.”
Wait, what? Did he say what you think he just said? Surprised, you turned to find him staring at you. “Wh-…” Mino leaned in and you stumbled backward, losing your footing. Was falling over going to become a habit of yours whenever he was around? This time around, Mino wasn’t quick enough to catch you. You went down so hard that you were certain you’d be picking tiny rocks out of your ass cheeks for days. “Gotdammit…” Mino wheezed, stooping to help you to your feet. You threw a look at him, snatching your arms from him. “Did it hurt?” Mino guffawed, doubling over and clutching his stomach. “Ha ha.” You seethed. Was your pain really that funny? You watched him wipe tears from his eyes, as he stood straight up. Apparently it was. You narrowed your eyes at him, folding your arms over your chest, “If you’re done, I’d like to go home now.” Mino fought to keep from laughing again and grabbed on to your shoulders, pulling you into a hug, “Awww…the poor baby is upset.” He cooed, stroking the back of your head like he was trying to soothe a child.
His cologne filled your senses once again, and you inhaled, closing your eyes as you rested your head against his chest. Mino stopped stroking the back of your head and you panicked. What even possessed you to do what you’d just done?! Too afraid to do anything, you stayed still, waiting for him to say something to put you back into your place as his roommate. But he didn’t. He didn’t say anything. Not a single thing. He swayed gently back and forth, hold tightening around you. “I missed you.” He said finally. His deep voice vibrating against your face. This wasn’t happening right? Your dream wasn’t being played out right in front of you was it? You stayed quiet, still too afraid to do or say anything. You weren’t sure if this moment was for real, and you didn’t want to break it in case it wasn’t a figment of your imagination. You glanced over his arm at the sun setting and the tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over before you had the chance to blink them away. You sniffled and Mino pulled back to look at you, concern written all over his face. “__________? Are you-?”
You jerked away from him, wiping angrily at the tears streaming down your cheeks. “It’s the sun…and aller-allergies.” You hiccuped. The lie was a lame one, but you hadn’t the time to think of a better one. You felt too exposed now, and it wasn’t a good feeling. “Let’s go.” You whispered brokenly. Mino’s hands cupped your face, and you could tell that he was waiting for you to look at him, but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. “____________.” You dropped your head and shook it back and forth, tears still falling. “____________, look at me.” You shook your head again, and he dropped his face into your line of sight so that you had no choice. “Talk to me..” His voice was soft and comforting. You pulled his hands from your face and stepped away from him, wanting to put some sort of distance between the two of you so that his cologne couldn’t cloud your judgement. “I think it’s time for me to move out.” You choked on the words, not really wanting to say them. “Why?” You looked at him then and regretted it. He looked hurt, “It’s just…not working out.” “So you’re just going to leave me, then?” Why was he making it sound like he cared? “Mino…” You sighed, throwing your hands up. “I can’t keep living with you! Do you know how hard it is to-..”
He crushed his lips to yours, catching you off guard. You pushed him away and stared him down, mouth wide open. “Did you just..?” Mino leveled you with a look so serious you had to break eye contact. “You….we’re just now…you can’t leave.” “Mino…you don’t mean that. Stop this.” “Don’t tell me what the fuck I mean, ____________.” Your head snapped back like he’d just slapped the shit out of you. “Wh-..?” Mino wiped a hand over his face in frustration, turning away from you and putting his hands on his hips. The silence that had fallen between the two of you was heavy. It was heavy and it hurt. What was he thinking about? What was he going to say? “You….you don’t….feel anything?” He questioned finally, turning back to you. “You want to talk about feelings? That’s why I’m going to leave, Mino. I can’t keep acting like I don’t have feel-…”
He was on you again, and this time, you didn’t fight it. Who knew how long this moment would last? Even if he were only doing this to keep you from going, it didn’t matter to you at that point in time. Mino was kissing you like he was going off to war and knew he’d never see you again. He was kissing you like he was trying to drink you in. You felt yourself falling. Like the ground had disappeared from under you and you were being swallowed whole. Your whole body felt like fireworks had been set of, tingling all over. Despite the desperation behind the kiss, his lips were impossibly soft. He used just the right amount of pressure, and when he nipped at your bottom lip, you whined involuntarily. You no longer had control over your own body, and for once, it was okay. When his lips stopped moving against yours, it was like someone had taken a bucket of ice water and threw it in your face. You hadn’t expected the man to kiss you, let alone you enjoying it as much as you did.
He rested his forehead against yours and kissed the tip of your nose, the action sweeter than you had imagined it to be.
It wasn’t yet sunrise when Anne began stirring restlessly in the unfamiliar bed in Gaston’s Tavern. When she woke, she momentarily forgot her surroundings. Beginning a new day in a home that wasn’t a cottage stuck in the French countryside was surreal and her conversations and encounters from the previous night began to surface. Sifting through the dark, Anne lost her balance while leaning off the bed. She immediately fell onto the floor with a thud.
“Ow,” she groaned. The girl was awfully clumsy, bumping into several corners and objects as she maneuvered her way through the room.
Taking the curtains in one hand, she pulled the fabric aside steadily, as if fearing it may rip, and the streetlights from outside filled the room with faint light. The night was a bit of a blur, she had been exhausted from her journey, but she couldn’t forget the handsome yet uncouth man she met in the tavern downstairs. And there he was, the subject of the painting hanging above the fireplace, with the identical crimson jacket seen in every other painting in the tavern. The man was proudly displaying his gun while sitting upright with perfect posture on a jet-black horse. His eyes were different, though, she noticed. In the painting, the jade coloring was so distracting that its vibrant shade did not seem genuine. In reality, Anne had already noticed that his eyes were darker, an earthy green and brown that swirled together. They concealed certain secrets and powerful emotions. It was clear from the previous night that he was a dispirited man, and so gazing upon this painting that should have conveyed strong feelings of heroism and greatness simply made her feel downhearted.
The room she was staying in was very unkempt, that much was obvious. The painting’s only other companions were hunting trophies from years gone by and a massive deer head mounted on the beige wall. Miscellaneous furniture was positioned randomly throughout the bedroom: a frail, sad-looking writing desk, a rotting wooden closet stained with years of watermarks, and a powder blue cushioned chair in perfect condition, never touched.
As she gently closed the door to the room, her attention shifted to the locked door across the hall: Gaston’s room. It seemed awfully quiet in there. Anne pondered whether or not it would be appropriate to knock on the door but eventually decided against it. She would just venture downstairs to the tavern and wait until Gaston or Lefou spotted her.
Every morning, Gaston would wake before the sunrise to sit alone in the tavern and linger on the past. This approach wasn’t necessarily intended to help him or boost his confidence for that matter (in fact, it did quite the opposite) but Gaston sometimes enjoyed remembering. He didn’t recognize the man in the paintings anymore. He didn’t recognize the man from six months ago. He needed people to love him. He needed people to idolize him. That was Gaston. But after the night he attacked the Beast, everyone shunned him and it was shocking, to him, that they hadn’t kicked him out of the village already. That night in June was now only a blur: Belle dismounting her horse and confirming Maurice’s story about a Beast in the castle, the magic mirror, the mob, his brutal attack on the Beast, falling to his death (or so he thought) from the castle only to be given a death sentence. It was unfair. The tavern’s vibrations of music and laughter were long gone – Silence was all the war hero knew presently. He didn’t know himself without the constant validation and love he needed from his companions.
Anne reached the last step and rounded the corner to discover Gaston, deep in thought, staring at the assemblage of antler decorations on the wall. He looked different…he wasn’t flushed with anger and practically foaming at the mouth…it was a self-reflective moment, so Anne felt awkward about clearing her throat to announce her presence. To her surprise, he didn’t ask her to leave or demand she return to her room, he simply half-grinned and pointed upstairs.
“Was that you earlier?” He asked. It took Anne a few moments to realize he was referring to the thud.
IN FULL BLOOM - Back in his Arms (MINSEOK, PT. 4) [CHRONICLES OF THE WOLF SERIES] *NC-17*
Minseokie happened a long time ago, so you can refresh your memory by reading his last chapter here!
[ Minseok | In Full Bloom ]
\ back in his arms
When you woke up, you felt your neck
slightly burning and Minseok’s arms still around you tight. Your tense body,
strung up from numerous nightmares, calmed down at the feeling of your mate
being close. Even after his reckless actions before, he still came back to you.
You wiggled in his arms, your arms moving to wrap around his back, moving even
closer to him. Minseok growled in appreciation, his face burying in your neck
when he heard you whine in discomfort.
Prompt: For a one-shot, I believe I once told you about a song called See Her Smile from Tick Tick Boom. If it’s not too much to ask, could I please request a song-fic for that particular song, with Pride? maybe a case doesn’t end the way they’d like, and the reader takes it harder than Pride does?
Warnings: 1 dead body
It’s not you, she says It’s just that life’s so hard We all get through, I say Just hang tight
It was hot. It was always hot in Louisiana. Hot and humid; the sticky kind that made you sweat after ten minutes of being outside. Pride was lucky to have his hat and glasses to keep the sun out of his eyes. But that comfort was off-set by the heavy kevlar that made him hotter than usual.
Pantone Warm Gray 11 color match. Chia seeds!
If you search under #chiaseeds, you’re bound to see mouth-watering, colorful, healthy foods. Instagram health-foodies everywhere sprinkle this thing on everything. These seeds do pack a very nutritious punch, based on what I’ve read. I never realized tho, that they’re actually gray and have snake-like patterns on them.
From the time he was a little kid growing up in the Philippines, Josė had two
dreams: to come to America and to make it big.
Josė was the only child. His parents struggled
and sacrificed on their low-income jobs to send Josė to a private school in
which all the classes were taught in English. His parents dreamed of coming to
America, too, and they wanted their son to have an advantage when they arrived
in the USA. They encouraged Josė to practice his English as much as possible so he’d have an advantage when they got here.
Finally, right after Josė turned 18 and graduated from his high school, the
first part of the dream came true. Josė ’s father received a call from the US
consulate in Manila. The family’s number on the immigration quota had come up. Josė
’s mother’s sister, his Auntie Imelda, who had lived in the USA for many years,
had agreed to be the family’s sponsor. He and his parents agreed that when they
reached America, all would work hard and save so that they could put Josė
through university in America.
Airline tickets were purchased with money sent by Auntie Imelda and the family
arranged for physical examinations to complete the paperwork to become
immigrants to the United States. The family physician, Dr. Tesoro, who had
known Josė all his life, examined him. Tests for TB and other diseases were
completed, and Josė passed all of them.
Later, Josė remembered his final
conversation with Dr. Tesoro. The doctor was busy completing the form which Josė
needed to turn in at the US Consulate. “Name”. “Date of
Birth”. “Height”– Josė stood on the balance scale as the doctor
measured 5'3". “Weight”—the scale balanced out at 116 lbs.
“Blood pressure”. etc. etc. etc.
Dr. Tesoro grew sentimental as he filled
out the form while Josė sat quietly next to his desk. He had delivered Josė
when he was born, and here he was now, ready for a new life in America.
“Well”, thought the doctor, “this young man is in fine shape to
handle whatever comes. A little underweight, perhaps, but he has the muscle to
handle hard physical work if it comes to that.” Josė was typical of most
young men of his class in the Philippines. Life was hard, there was no money
for luxuries, and most teenage boys like Josė had been doing manual work
part-time for years to supplement the family income.
Dr. Tesoro completed the forms, turned to Josė, and spoke to him in English.
“ Josė, my boy, let me give you some advice. America is not like what you
see in the movies. I know because I went to medical school there. Be prepared
to work hard, very hard. You will succeed if you work hard. The Americans are
fine people and they respect hard work.” The conversation continued this
way for a while. Finally, they stood and parted, Dr. Tesoro gave Josė his
blessing, and Josė promised to write to him.
Life in America turned out to be just as Dr. Tesoro said. Josė and his parents
lived with his Auntie Imelda and her
family while they saved every spare penny they earned. All three quickly found
jobs. Josė ’s father and mother became domestics in the home of a rich Anglo
family. Auntie Imelda arranged for Josė to interview for a job as a busboy at a
nearby IHOP which was owned by friends of hers, a Filipino family who had been
in the USA even longer than her.
Josė went to the IHOP for an interview and impressed the owner. Josė was hired
and told to report to work the next day.
The following morning, Josė stood in front of the bathroom mirror after
showering. As he dried himself off, he examined his reflection in the
mirror. He grinned, showing a row of perfect white teeth, as he looked at his
thin angular face. Back home people always told him he was handsome and he
admitted to himself, they were right. He flexed his lean tight biceps and pecs
and admired his trim waistline and the way his round bellybutton sat on his
six-pack abs. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. He smiled to himself as he
got dressed. Josė was glad his mom had washed and pressed the jeans and T-shirt
IHOP wanted him to wear to work. He had borrowed a pair of his cousin’s size 28 jeans. They were loose on him but were
almost new. Josė pulled the belt tight so the jeans wouldn’t slide down over
his slim hips. He wanted to make a good first impression on his first day at
work in the USA.
At the end of that first day, Josė remembered what Dr. Tesoro had told him.
Boy, had he been correct about the hard work! Josė ’s job was to carry heavy
trays of dirty dishes and to do all the heavy lifting in the kitchen and
storage room. When there was extra time, he washed dishes. After the first
8-hour shift, Josė felt like he had been working sixteen hours. But, Josė was
happy. He was on his way to achieving the second part of his dream–to make it
big in America.
A week later, Auntie Imelda asked Josė if he wanted another job–she had heard there
was an opening for a job at the airport parking lot where another friend of
hers was the manager. Josė applied for
the job and was hired the next day. His job was to man a booth at the exit to
the parking lot on the “graveyard” shift–9 p.m. to 5 a.m. That was
fine with Josė—his other job at IHOP started at 6 a.m. and ended at 2 p.m.
The thought of working 80 hours a week didn’t matter to Josė—it would be easier to save money for
college with two jobs, and his parents’ jobs at the home of their boss meant
that he didn’t get to see much of them anyway.
Josė’s life quickly took on a routine. Wake up at 7:30 p.m.–shower and eat a big
meal at Auntie’s house. Stop at a food mart to buy something for his midnight
“lunch” break at the airport and some snacks to carry him through the
boring long hours sitting in the toll booth. Clock out at 5 a.m., catch the bus
to the IHOP, wash in the employees’
locker room, change clothes, and get ready for work there. The head cook
quickly took pity on her hard-working busboy and always had a big breakfast
waiting for him, which he scarfed down before his shift started. Lunch was the
same–the cooks always fed Josė a big nourishing
lunch during his half-hour break. He’d clock out at 2p.m. and catch the bus
home for 5 hours or so of sleep before the cycle repeated itself.
Josė loved the IHOP job–his co-workers
were all friendly to him, the customers were nice, and as busboy he even got a
share of the tips. He looked forward to the day when he could try for a
promotion to waiter and he could let someone else do the backbreaking work of
busboy. Even so, the IHOP job was great, certainly much more interesting than
sitting on his butt all night waiting for an occasional car to leave the
airport parking lot. At the airport, he couldn’t even take a break to go to the
restroom unless someone took his place. It was so boring.
On his days off, Josė spent most of the
time catching up on his sleep. He woke up only to eat the large nourishing
meals either his mom or his auntie prepared for him. After all, he had to keep
up his strength for his long hours at work. His cousins, Auntie Imelda’s sons,
invited him to go clubbing with them but Josė always declined. He was intent on
doing all he could to work hard and save money so he could go to college.
Being an observant young man, Josė soon noticed certain things at the IHOP.
Americans wasted so much! He said nothing, of course, but he was always amazed
at how much food the customers left on their plates. As Josė scraped the plates
and all the leftover food went into the garbage can, he thought back to when he
was a kid in the Philippines. There was never any extra food to waste, and many times, especially
after Josė became a teenager, he left the dinner table hungry because there
wasn’t enough money to buy enough food for a growing adolescent. Every
Christmas Josė received a small Hershey bar as a special treat. One year, he
decided to save part of it to enjoy the next day. His mother saw what he was
doing and scolded him–“eat it now–don’t wait for tomorrow. You never
know what will happen to it if you don’t eat it now. Don’t waste food.”
Another thing which amazed Josė was how much food the restaurant itself
wasted–food that was a couple of days old and unsold and then just thrown in the dumpster, or the
hot entrees which had been prepared for lunch but didn’t sell and were just
tossed out. His friends the cooks told him this was just part of doing business
in a restaurant. When he had been hired, the owner had told Josė he could eat
as much as he wanted when on his breaks–a perk offered to all employees, the
plan being they would soon tire of the food and not eat any of it. Josė was
different, however. His constant hard
work built up his appetite, and the memories of his childhood made him
automatically eat food if it was there. His mother’s admonition when he was a
kid–eat it now, don’t let food go to waste—was always in the back of his mind.
Finally, Josė was amazed at how good American food tasted. Like all Filipinos,
Josė knew about McDonald’s, but he had never eaten at one. That was a luxury
beyond the means of his family. Josė loved Filipino food, of course, and his
Auntie Imelda and Mom were great cooks, but he came to really love American
food, especially the American food which IHOP specialized in. Just the thought
of going to work and being able to eat a stack of pancakes oozing with butter
and syrup, with side orders of omelets, crispy bacon, pastries, and buttered
biscuits, all washed down with glasses of cold milk, made Josė’s mouth water
even before he clocked out of his airport job.
But it wasn’t only IHOP food which made Josė’s mouth water. The food mart he
stopped at before heading to the airport specialized in fresh hoagies, and Josė
enjoyed sampling every variety they made. All the varieties of chips and sweet
treats which he purchased to snack on during his long boring hours at the
tollbooth tasted great to Josė. He couldn’t understand why Americans called
such things “junk food”–they weren’t “junk”, they were
Long hours of hard work and heavy lifting at the IHOP led to development of
Josė’s muscles. After showering and shaving each workday, he enjoyed standing
in front of the bathroom mirror flexing his biceps and popping his pecs as he
admired his toned, wiry physique.
Six months passed. His cousins began
to tease Josė about some other growth on his physique–a small mound of soft flab which covered
his abs and into which his bellybutton started to sink, and a ring of brown flesh which puffed up around his
once-lean midriff. Josė just smiled and
shrugged off the teasing. When he looked in the mirror his muscles had lost
definition but looked bugger because of the smooth layer of soft flesh which
covered them. More important to him, his savings account was growing, maybe in
a couple of years he would have enough saved to attend the university.
A couple of months later, Josė was getting ready to head to the airport after a
weekend off. He was putting on his pants as usual when he noticed that the
zipper wouldn’t close. It had started to stick recently, but today it wouldn’t
go up at all. Josė stood in front of the bathroom mirror and sucked in his gut,
noting with a little apprehension in the mirror how it was covered with a
wobbly layer of flab. Josė cursed softly, then sighed with relief as the zipper
finally closed. He flexed his biceps and popped his pecs in the mirror, and
scowled for a second at the plump “man tits” which his newly-puffy
nipples sat on now. He noticed recently
that his clothes didn’t fit the way they used to–they were snug across the
chest and belly, and all his jeans were getting real tight across his butt.
“Oh well”, he thought shrugging, “just part of what Americans
call the ‘good life’.” His thoughts returned to his jobs and his growing
Soon, it was the first anniversary of Josė’s arrival in the USA. As Jose stood
in front of the mirror before he put on his shirt to head for work, the thought
suddenly came to him, “No doubt about it,” thought Josė as he looked
in the mirror, “I’m blowin’ up like a fuckin’ balloon.” He struggled
to fasten the button on the waistband of his pants. After a few minutes of
huffing and puffing he succeeded. He tried to suck in the bloat which bulged a
couple of inches over his waistband, but that just accentuated the soft slack
folds of flab that jiggled around his waist when he moved. He had just bought
new these new size 33 pants a month ago, but already they were cutting into his
newly developed pot belly. Josė turned to the side and noticed the big soft
wobbly ass which ballooned outwards on his backside. “Wow”, he
scowled, “I better go on a diet before I turn into a fat slob.
Still”, he thought, his scowl turning into a grin, “back home in the
Philippines I couldn’t hardly get enough to eat. Here…” and he thought of
the hotcakes, pastries, hoagies, and other goodies which he just loved, “..a
few extra pounds on me doesn’t matter. I can take the weight off whenever I
have the time.”
But Josė never had the time. He two
jobs took up at least 80 hours a week.
Whenever he was offered the chance to work overtime, Josė jumped at it—more
money for his college savings account! The only time he had to relax was his
meal and snack breaks. Josė welcomed the chance to sit down, relax for a few
minutes, and dig into the American food he had come to love.
Josė noticed that he was hungry all
the time now. No problem with that—he was busting his ass and needed the
energy. At every meal or snack break, he shoveled in the food—savoring the
delicious rich tastes of his favorites. But no matter how much he ate, it was
never enough. That skinny, hungry kid inside him gorged on everything in sight,
and now Josė’s mom and auntie took note
of his huge appetite when they cooked for him, preparing triple the portions of
food that they had made when he first arrived in the USA.
More months went by. Josė and his parents were all still working hard. Josė had
been recently promoted to waiter at IHOP, with better pay and tips. He had
received a pay raise at his airport job, too. With his promotion to waiter,
Jose had to buy new work clothes. He needed bigger sizes, but the increase in
size didn’t register with him—he had a limited amount of time to spare and he
needed to grab some food before he headed to his airport job.
Soon it was the second anniversary of Josė’s arrival in the USA. As he stood in
front of the mirror, he considered how things had changed. He proudly thought of how successful he was
as a waiter. His pleasant personality, efficient work habits, and —“let’s face
it,” he thought, “I’m a good looking dude and that helps bring in the tips
too!” The mirror reflected back to Josė his full smiling face with new dimples
on his round cheeks. He was a happy young man. Recently he had been able to buy
a used car, so no more having to walk to catch the bus to his two jobs. His
good relationships with his co-workers grew even better. His hard work and
pleasant personality as a waiter led to large tips which went into the pot to
be shared by all employees.
Josė was totally oblivious to the biggest change about himself—his ever-growing
appetite. Now, at his stops at the mini-mart on his way to the airport, he
automatically bought a couple of 12" hoagies and a box of a dozen of
whatever “Little Debbie” snack cakes caught his attention that night.
Josė also bought the largest size Hershey bar every night–it was a treat,
which reminded him of his hardscrabble days as a kid when he only had a chocolate bar once a year. At the IHOP, the
free meals Josė ate before work, after work, and during his lunchbreak
increased in quantity. The cooks always gave him leftovers which would be
tossed out anyway. Josė’s eyes lit up with pleasure and a smile appeared on his
round face whenever he was handed a plate piled high with the IHOP goodies he
loved. Soon it became the pattern for
the cooks to hand him another heaping plate as soon as he wolfed down the first
During his 10-minute rest breaks, Josė was
always good to scarf down a couple of thickly buttered biscuits. He also
developed the art of nibbling during his shift–grabbing pastries or donuts
from the “discard” pile and quickly chewing and swallowing while
doing his regular chores. The cooks enjoyed seeing their handsome, growing
young waiter devour whatever food was in sight. They were all older women,
immigrants themselves, and they all had the attitude that it was a good thing
for a healthy hard-working young man to out on some weight..
More time went by. Jose’s routine
continued. His savings account continued to grow. The only thing which frustrated
him was his need to frequently buy new clothes. All his work clothes seemed to
shrink as soon as he bought them—must be the hot dryer at home.
Josė and his family had been in the USA for
three years when the owner of the IHOP, his Auntie Imelda’s friend, left a
message for him to see her on his day off. José showed up for the meeting neatly dressed
in a dress shirt and dress pants. The owner was startled for a minute when Jose
entered her office. He had changed so much since she had hired him three years
before! If it weren’t for his dazzling white smile, she would have sworn it was
a different young man standing in front of her. His face had lost all its
angularity and his cheeks were round as apples. A double chin softened his
neckline. The buttons of his dress shirt
were stressed by a round plump pot belly which protruded over his low-slung
waistband. She smiled to herself: life in America had been good to José!
She told Josė she heard that he was
doing very well as a waiter and offered him the position of manager trainee. The
pay was much higher, but Josė would have to be available 60 or more hours a
week. Josė was flattered and thanked the owner for her faith in him. He told
her he would take the job, and added that he would need to give two weeks’ notice
at his airport job. The owner, impressed with Josė’s conscientiousness, agreed.
The next morning, as Josė stood bare chested shaving in front of the mirror, he
noticed how his flabby waistline had developed into a big round belly centered
with a deep bellybutton and wide love handles. He blushed as he noticed that
his hard pecs had transformed into big round sagging breasts which sat atop his
belly. Stretch marks covered his sides, breasts, and even his upper arms. He
turned to the side and noticed how his ass cheeks jiggled and quivered like two
big basketballs of fat, sticking out just as far in back as his pot belly
protruded out in front. He scowled for a few seconds but then smiled as he
recalled his promotion and the hefty raise in pay which accompanied his new job.
“Nope”, Jose thought, “this blubber sure isn’t hurting my career
any. I’m beginning to look like a real American now”.
Josė gave his notice to his boss at the airport. On his last day, he was
introduced to his replacement. It was about 2 a.m. and Josė was perched on the
same stool which had been his seat for eight hours a night, five nights a week.
Josė was finishing off the last of the box of a dozen Little Debbie Swiss Creme
Rolls when his boss brought his replacement to the booth. Josė got up from his
perch, shoved the box out of sight, and met the new guy. The three talked for
about ten minutes–only once being interrupted by a car exiting the airport.
After the boss and the new guy left, Josė resumed his perch on the stool, which
groaned as he settled his bulk on it. Josė checked the clock–three hours more
to go, then reached into the drawer and took out his second hoagie of the
evening. His eyes lit up and his mouth started to water even before he bit into
Josė’s replacement couldn’t help but be amazed as he and the boss walked back
from Josė’s booth to the office. The replacement, an older Filipino man
recently arrived in the U.S., was amazed at the sight of Josė. He had never
seen a young man as fat as Josė. Back home in the Philippines, he had seen
chubby young people, but they were the children of the rich and would never be
working at a job like parking-lot booth attendant. The sight of Josė’s
ballooning belly and chest, wide hips and enormous rear end amazed the man.
Josė’s new job responsibilities at IHOP were a challenge, but he loved it. The
owner came by frequently at first to check on things, usually accompanied by
her daughter. The daughter, who appeared to Josė to be about 25, was introduced
to him as a recent college graduate who
was going to be helping her mother manage the family businesses. Her name was
Corazon. She gave Josė a big smile, which he returned, and told him to call her
“Cory”–everyone did. Josė was struck by Cory’s good looks, beautiful
smile, and friendly personality. Cory excused herself to go to the restroom,
giving her mother the opportunity to tell Josė that Cory had been born in America
and was an “All-American Girl” who couldn’t even speak Tagalog.
Cory quickly became the member of the owner’s family who took responsibility
for Josė’s IHOP. Cory came by frequently to check on things and always appeared
satisfied with how things were going at the restaurant. On her visits, she
would check all parts of the restaurant, but Josė came to have the feeling that
she was checking him out the most. There were times when Josė would notice her
staring at him. What he didn’t know was that Cory had secretly always loved fat
guys. To her, Josė was everything she had never yet found in a man–handsome, a
nice guy, friendly, Filipino, and fat! Cory
noticed that José seemed to be oblivious about his ever-growing size. His
protruding belly and rear end and wide hips frequently bumped into things
accidentally, as if he weren’t aware of how big he had become.
On her visits, though, Cory just stuck to the
pleasantries with Josė. During their management meetings, Cory and Josė would
drink coffee while talking. As was his habit, Jose accompanied each cup of
coffee by some pastries from the “discard pile”. It had become
something he automatically did and Cory made no comment even though she eagerly
watched him slather butter on every donut and cruller.
Jos sneaked plenty of looks at Cory, too. She reminded him of all the movie
stars he had read about in the Philippines, beautiful and charming. Every romantic
thought he had about her reached a roadblock–the fact she was his boss’s
daughter. Back home, and Josė assumed in America too, Cory as the boss’s
daughter was unattainable. That still didn’t stop Jos from dreaming about her a
More months went by and life continued its pattern for Jose. Being a manager
was more stressful than being a busboy or waiter, and there were days when he
worked sixteen hours straight, sometimes subbing for one of the waiters or
busboys who didn’t come to work that day. He continued to stop at the food mart
even though he no longer needed to buy food to help fill the boring hours at
the airport. He just loved the food there—much as he loved the IHOP food it liked
the variety of hoagies and sides which always made his mouth water. The
employees were so nice to him, too! He
was their best customer, stopping by for meals even on his days off..
The staff at the food mart looked forward to waiting on Josė. Every day, he’d order a couple of assorted
hoagies with extra fillings, extra mayo and extra butter. A quart of potato or
mac salad, a big bag of chips, and a box of Ho-ho’s or whatever else made
Jose’s mouth water completed his order. He’d arrive home, plop himself on the
sofa with remote in hand, put his feet up, unbutton and unzip his pants, and
then eat his meal fresh from the food-mart with ESPN in the background while he
replayed the day at work in his mind. No matter how stressful the day had
been–and there was always some amount of stress for him as manager–by the
time he wiped the last crumbs off his overstuffed bulging belly, the stress had
gone and Jose was able to fall asleep, always to dream about Cory.
One day a few months later, Josė was sitting in the kitchen during his break,
making short work of a snack of a six fried eggs sandwiched one-on-one between
half a dozen pancakes covered with butter and syrup, when he suddenly realized he
had been in America for five years. Josė contently rubbed his belly while he
thought back to how things had changed for him since he came to the U.S. He
smiled as he sipped his second glass of cold milk as he considered how well things were
going for him. His savings account continued to grow and he was seriously thinking
of majoring in business management when he did start college.
That afternoon, Josė left work early to accompany his mother to the doctor’s
office. She was recovering from the flu and Josė volunteered to take her since
his father had to work. At the doctor’s office, the medical diplomas and certificates
on the wall impressed Josė. One day in the future, his office would have
similar diplomas in business management!
Dr. Ramos– a slender “fitness fanatic”— was equally impressed by
Josė, but for other reasons. His patient, Josė’s mom, frequently spoke about
her hard-working son. Here he was, and the sight of Josė sitting in the waiting
room as he escorted Josė’s mom out of the examining room amazed the doctor. Mom
introduced the two, and the doctor quickly asked Josė if he could come back to
the examining area for a few minutes. Josė agreed, thinking the doctor wanted
to talk with him about his mother.
In the examining room, the doctor asked Josė to have a seat. Josė nervously
asked if his mother was OK. The doctor laughed and said yes. He further
explained that he thought that since Jose was at the office, it would be a good
time for him to have a check-up. Josė smiled with relief and agreed, He hadn’t
seen a doctor since he left Manila five years before, and even though he felt
great, he figured it couldn’t hurt to be checked out. He stripped down to his
skin-tight jockey shorts and sat there for blood pressure, stethoscope tests
and the rest of it. Everything turned out to be normal.
Dr. Ramos then asked Josė how much he weighed when he left Manila. Josė thought
a minute and replied, “About 116, I think”. His mind went back to
when he sat in Dr. Tesoro’s office five years before. He was brought back to
the present when Dr. Ramos, pinching a thick roll of flab on Josė’s plump upper
arm, said, “And how much do you think you weigh now, young man?” Josė
thought for a moment and stammered, “about 185?” “….I know I’ve put on some
weight,” he added softly. The doctor snickered, and then told Josė to walk
over to the scale. The doctor noted how every part of Josė’s overfed body shifted,
jiggled, and wobbled as he waddled to the scale. Josė stepped on the scale,
which let out a “thunk” as his bulk impacted on it. The bar balanced
out at 347 lbs. Jose seemed stunned at the numbers and showed no reaction.
The doctor then took a tape measure
and measured Josė’s chest, waist and hips.
The doctor asked him to sit for a minute. “Young man”, he said,
“you are grossly obese. You must go on a diet immediately, even though
your blood pressure and all other tests are normal. Just take a look at
yourself!” He paused for a moment and did some calculations with pencil
and paper, while Josė looked down past the two ballooning mounds of his tits,
each tipped with a swollen brown nipple, to the magnificent round belly hanging
between his wide stretched plump thighs and extending halfway to his knees in a
graceful wide bulge.
The doctor then added, “Your
body mass index is 61!” “What does that mean?“ Jose stammered. “When
you weighed 116, your BMI was 20. Obese is 30 or above–you figure it out,
young man!” Dr. Ramos snapped. “You
are 63 inches tall, your waist is 59 inches around and your hips are 66 inches.
You’re wider than you are tall! You’re a round ball of blubber! Aren’t you ashamed to be so fat?”
Josė hung his head in silent embarrassment,
dressed, left the doctor’s office, and drove his mother home in silence. He got
home and went straight to bed. For the first time since he arrived in the USA,
he went to bed without the happy feeling of having a full stuffed tummy..
Josė got up the next morning, determined to lose weight. He had thought again
through the night about the changes he had gone through since he had come to
the US, but this time in the light of Dr. Ramos’ comments: how often he had to
buy new pants, and every time they were a size bigger than the old ones. How
buttons had popped and seems had split with increasing regularity. How people
he hadn’t seen in a while seemed surprised when they saw him, and then
whispered among themselves. How his cousins at some point had switched from calling
him “Josė” to addressing him as “Big Guy”. He thought back to how he wanted to
come to America to “make it big”. He was “big”, all right,
as big as a baby elephant!
Josė showered and got dressed. He noticed that his new pants were already
tight. He struggled to pull them up over his bulging hips and rear end, and
after an effort managed to button them under his round protruding paunch,
leaving a good three inches of belly flab
and love handle fa overhanging the waistband. Knowing that today was inventory
day, he pulled on an old T-shirt. It was so tight that he had to struggle to
pull it down over his ballooning man breasts, bulging belly and thick love handles, but a big roll of tan flab bulged
between the bottom of the shirt and his tight waistband. He left for the IHOP
without eating breakfast at home, determined to start his diet that very day.
By the time he got to work, though, Josė was starving. He was so hungry he
couldn’t stand it. He hadn’t been hungry like this since he was a kid in the
Philippines–his almost constant eating and snacking on his jobs had kept his
growing belly always full and satisfied.
Josė arrived in the kitchen, greeted
the cooks already hard at work as if nothing were wrong, and sat down with a
cup of black coffee. As if on cue, one of the cooks came over to his table
carrying two plates, one a stack of eight waffles covered with butter and
syrup, and the other, six fried eggs, a mound of crispy bacon, and huge pile hash
browns. He was about to wave them away when the aroma of the food got to
him–as well as the realization that, since he had become manager, this was the
way he always started the morning. Despite feeling guilty, he dug in and
quickly finished his meal of “discards”. He was just so hungry he
couldn’t help himself.
Feeling worse than ever, Josė got up and went back to the storeroom. For the
first time he was conscious of how his big belly wobbled from side to side and
bounced up and down and his big tits jiggled as he slowly made his way down the
corridor. His could feel his big ass cheeks bounce and jiggle and his fat
thighs rub against each other. My God! What had he let himself become?
At the storeroom door, Josė figured
he might as well start the inventory even though Cory wasn’t there yet. He
opened the door quietly, and was startled to see Cory already there, in the far
corner. She was intent on the inventory and didn’t realize Josė was there. Jose
stopped for a minute to admire Cory from afar–her beautiful round ass, slim
waist, and full round breasts that were big for a Filipina. Josė felt himself
getting hard, and thought back to all the times he had thought about Cory and
how he could possibly win her to be his. In the past, he had always thought
that his obstacle would be their difference in class. She was the owner’s
daughter, after all. She was rich and would certainly never be attracted to an
average guy like him. Today, Josė dejectedly put that thought aside–instead he
considered that a beautiful girl like Cory would never want to be seen with a
big fat slob like him. How could he have let himself get so fat? For the first
time, he longed for the lean, hard body he had when he arrived in the US,
before he started eating like a fucking pig.
Josė decided he might as well stop thinking and get to work. He slammed the
door closed so that Cory thought he had just entered the room.
Cory’s eyes lit up when she saw Josė. “Hello! I was hoping that you hadn’t
forgotten today was inventory day.” Josė blushed as he noticed Cory
checking him out again, as she did every time she saw him. “She’s probably
laughing to herself about what a fat slob I am”, thought Josė dejectedly.
“Josė, let’s work for a while
and then we can stop to have a snack,” smiled Cory. “Why is she mocking
me, talking about eating?” thought Josė. He said nothing but nodded glumly,
but picked up the inventory sheets and went to a far corner of the room, as far
from Cory as he could get.
The two worked in silence for about fifteen minutes. Josė had his back to Cory,
intent on counting containers of lard, when he suddenly was aware that she was
right behind him. He felt her hands rest his love handles. Startled, he froze,
while her hands then lifted up his tight t-shirt over his chest. Cory softly
whispered, “turn around to me”. Josė, still in shock, complied, and
stood while Cory massaged, caressed, and pinched each of his big bulging flabby
tits. “I can’t help it, Josė,” Cory whispered, "I’ve admired you ever
since I first met you. You’re so handsome. Every time I see you, you’re bigger
Cory told Josė to take off his shirt and he complied, still speechless. One of
her hands caressed and measured the bulk of his fat wide shoulders and upper
arms while the other hand found its way to his deep bellybutton and started
delicately fingering it while her mouth started on his big tits.
Jose’s soft ballooning tits bounced and quivered at the touch of Cory’s tongue
as she moved from one big tit to the
other. He shuddered with pleasure as Cory licked the flesh around his big puffy
nipples and worked her hands down his overfed, jiggly torso. Cory moaned and
kissed her appreciation of Josė’s ample midriff, delicately tracing his stretch
marks and luxuriating in the rolls and bulges he had packed on over the past
five years. Cory gently kneaded Josė’s belly and love handles as she took more
hungry mouthfuls of his soft, bouncy tits.
Josė was speechless. He never dreamed anything like this would ever happen.
Cory continued her exploring of Josė’s plumped up body. He was aware that her
hands had gone to the lower curve of his ballooning belly, and after massaging
it for a while, Cory’s hands found their way to the waist button of his pants.
She fumbled to unbutton the pants. As she struggled–the pants were so tight
she was having a hard time–she said softly, “I know this must surprise
you, but I can’t help it. I love you and want you. I know I’m supposed to let
the man take the lead, but I can’t help it. Just the sight of you walking
around the restaurant drives me crazy–you’re so handsome and sexy.”
At this point, Cory had finally undone the waist button and she tugged Jose’s
trousers down. His throbbing erection was visible through his tight jockey
shorts, but Cory turned Jose around so that his back was to her. He still was
silent, stunned at what was happening.
Cory grabbed the overstretched waistband of his skintight jockeys and tugged
downward. Jose felt the coolness as his massive round buttocks were exposed to
the air. He heard Cory let out a loud gasp, then a moan. “This is what
I’ve wanted for years”. He felt her hands prodding, massaging, caressing,
and pinching each of his huge butt cheeks.
Each of her hands moved under one of the cheeks and hefted it up as if she was
weighing a large watermelon in the supermarket, then let the butt cheek drop as
she ogled how it jiggled and quivered.
Josė went wild as Cory tongued his deep bellybutton and couldn’t wait for Cory
to get to his raging hard on. It happened soon enough, and Josė moaned with
pleasure as she took it into her mouth and soon satisfied him.
After Cory finished with Josė, he started in on her. He quickly got hard again
as he explored her bountiful breasts and every part of her beautiful body with
his hands and tongue while Cory moaned and sighed and continued to caress and
worship his flab. Within a few minutes, they were on the floor. Cory was in
ecstasy as Josė entered her while his bulging belly and big soft tits rested on
her. Her hands grabbed his big soft love handles and ass and encouraged each of
Finally, they lay side by side, embracing and exhausted. Cory and Josė smiled
at each other and finally Josė said, “I never dreamed you loved me, even
my fat. You’re all I’ve ever dreamed of, Cory. I only wish I could marry you
and show you for the rest of our lives how much I love you.” Cory responded,
“We’ll be married, Josė, and soon, too. I don’t want to risk ever losing
you. My mother will agree to anything I want, and I want you. Now!”
Three months later, Dr. Tesoro in Manila opened up a large brown envelope which
had been mailed from the USA. When he opened it, he noticed that it contained
an American style wedding invitation, a hand written letter, and some loose
snapshots. Dr. Tesoro checked the snapshots first. In all of them, a massively
obese young Filipino man was front and center. As the doctor examined the
snapshots, he was amazed. The fat young man with standing at the beach, wearing
an enormous pair of surf shorts which stretched wide to cover his broad hips
and massive thighs. An attractive young big-breasted Filipina snuggled next to
him, with her hand resting on the upper curve of his enormous ballooning belly.
The young man’s belly poured over the waistband of his shorts, hanging below
his crotch. His navel had disappeared into a long slit in the bellyfat. Two
huge fat man breasts, each the size of a football and each tipped with a brown
nipple stretched the size of a half dollar, rested atop the massive paunch. His
massive fat-creased arms extended wide,
pushed outward by the thick rolls of lard on his sides. The young man smiled
broadly, showing a perfect set of white teeth, causing dimples to form in his
bulging round cheeks. Thick jowls and a wide double chin buried his neck.
With a start, Dr. Tesoro realized
the young man was Josė! How he had changed!
The doctor then read the letter, which explained that Josė was doing well as a
restaurant manager, would be starting night school college classes the next
term, and would be married shortly. The letter ended, “So you see, doctor,
I took your advice. I’ve worked hard and been successful. I’m the luckiest man
in the world with a good job and beautiful fiancée. I’m very proud of what I’ve
made of myself. I have indeed made it BIG in America. With best wishes, Jose”
After reading through the entire Redwall series I decided to split it up into chunks that I saw delineated different points in the evolution of the series.
1. Early Period (Redwall - Outcast of Redwall)
The Early Period of the Redwall series saw the birth of the series as well as many of its most classic novels and characters. Unlike most series that last twenty-plus books, the Redwall series found itself relatively early on, falling into a pattern from which future books in the series rarely deviated. This period is further divided into two smaller sub-eras. The first of these sub-eras spans from Redwall through Mattimeo. During this time, the basic good and evil species are established, along with the series’ rustic western European setting. Redwall Abbey, Mossflower Wood, and Salamandastron were all established. Brian Jacques’ writing style even then with florid descriptions of food and scenery, enormous quests, and tales of friendship, loyalty, and honor. Several concepts/animals were also taken out (horses, piglets, crabs, and Portugal) thus transporting Redwall to its own world: much like our world, only not. The second sub-era starts with Mariel of Redwall, which established the “feel” of the Redwall novels as we know it. However, the subsequent books were still characterized by rather dark experimentation. Martin the Warrior featured the death of Rose, perhaps the most famous death in the series. Outcast of Redwall was the only Redwall book which seriously questioned the black-and-white morals of the series. One can only imagine what would have happened had Veil Sixclaw survived to win the trust of all Redwallers. However, after this book, the Redwall series went on to steadily develop and expand the world which it had built.
II. Middle Period (Pearls of Lutra - Taggerung)
The Middle Period of the Redwall series primarily expanded upon the style which had been established in the early novels. This period is generally characterized by sprawling, intricate quests which take place far from home and enormous, bloody showdowns. During this time, the series explores faraway lands, like the tropical island of Sampetra to earlier times such as the days of Brocktree and Luke the Warrior. Significant development is made during this era to the vermin. They are generally more competent and more professional than the general rabble which filled the armies of the early villains, who were more renowned for cruelty than for intelligence. The era saw the deceptively calm Ublaz Mad-Eyes, the erudite Vilu Daskar, and the treacherous Marlfoxes. Jacques successfully boosted the intelligence and power of the vermin hordes, presenting greater challenges toward the protagonists, which in turn allowed for more intricate, exciting plotlines full of strategy and betrayal. In terms of chronology, the Middle Period mainly consists of the continuation of the Matthias saga through four books - three of which feature the long-living Cregga Rose Eyes. This creates a sense of consistency and development throughout this era not seen in the ensuing period.
III. Late Period (Triss - The Rogue Crew)
The Late Period of the Redwall series was the only era in the entire timeline of the books to follow a strict chronological order. There were no grand sagas featuring warrior families or close-related tales. In fact, with the exception of Triss, all the stories take place so far apart from one another that there is not a single mention of the previous book. This era also saw the recycling of several old stories. Numerous parallelisms can be drawn between High Rhulain and Pearls of Lutra, and Loamhedge is another trip back to Mattimeo, introducing another Wearet in the process. In this period, Brian Jacques focuses primarily on furthering the tropes which characterized the Redwall series. Some of the most mouth-watering descriptions of food are penned down during this time, and there seems to be a strong emphasis placed on friendship, across numerous parties of protagonists. Despite its reusing of old plotlines, this era was not without its changes. The protagonists from this era generally consisted of young woodlanders not even in their teens who were, unlike the older, more seasoned main characters of the past, were thrown into a world where they had to find the warrior inside them. The villains they faced once again had their size and brutality bumped up, as though to be even more imposing. More changes were abound toward the end of the era: The Sable Quean was the first book to feature a mole warrior and four, not three, parts, and The Rogue Crew showed a vermin ship on wheels. Unfortunately, future developments of the world of Redwall ended with Brian Jacques’ death in 2011.