#you can acknowledge these things and also pay attention to the bigger picture

[assmaster-8000]

you guys do realise getting mad about sparkle 'slutshaming' aventurine is baseless when the fandom has been calling men whores and sluts pretty much since the inception of smutty fanfiction? why is it suddenly a problem if a character does it but not when real fucking adults call many 16 year old characters a slut? would you really be this angry if sparkle was a man and aventurine was a woman too or is that scenario a norm for you?

(also, if you genuinely believe she was slutshaming aventurine i feel like you have a very bad case of tunnel vision because its not the act of doing sexual deeds for sundays favor she's talking about. she's taking a jab at if aventurine did something outlandish and out of nature to pwomise his widdle corporation wouldn't hurt penacony (yea right wise guy type of tone). i feel like any other hyperbole would have gotten her point across. if anything it feels like she's making fun of his inability to be vulnerable or be on the end with disadvantages because aventurine is always big on being in bets and deals where he has the power)

((and yes im aware sparkle is the type to make discriminatory jabs at people given the sigonian situation and her masked fool status but again it does not necessarily mean this is specifically targeted at his sexuality because it's just very out of place))

also, if sparkle DID use a slur against romani people

why are you more upset at the character than the company?

you do realise sparkle can't code her own dialog, right? there's real people at the hoyoverse company building making her say these things. whether or not it makes her a good or bad villain doesn't matter because you're just targeting a fictional character instead of holding hoyoverse responsible. you do realise that by wringing your panties into debating about sparkle, you're just overlooking the real cause of it? it's like green shopping and carbon footprints all over again. we're so focused on pointing fingers at all these irrelevant figures that the true heads behind it get away scott free.

if you're upset about the use of the slur which is very much understandable so i mean this specific sentiment in the most genuine way possible; highlight hoyoverse's role in this. you already know hoyoverse does a bad job at handling cultures outside of their own so it's not like it's something outlandish to hold against the company.

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

I've been thinking a lot about expectations this week.

A number of years ago, when I was visiting my brother, he criticized me for not doing something that he expected me to do. It was a frustrating talk because he wasn't at all willing to hear my perspective. But what bothered me the most about it was when I said "you can just ask" and he said "I shouldn't have to".

I was doing everything culturally expected of a good guest, I didn't even know what his extra expectations were, and yet he felt entitled to be mad at me for not automatically knowing them, and not living up to them.

It can be so easy for us to let our expectations get ahead of us, to make assumptions based on our own perspectives, and to then feel let down.

And I feel like I'm seeing a lot of this kind of thing in people's experience with media these days. There seems to be a clash happening between expectations and reality. And people feeling genuinely upset when the reality is not what they wanted.

I'm seeing a lot of complaints and "critiques" that seem to fall in to the category of "this is not how I personally want this to go" or "this doesn't resonate with my personal experience".

To be clear, I'm not saying this in a pointing fingers kind of way, because I have 100% done it myself.

When the trailer for Cutie Pie first came out, I got so excited imagining Kuea as some bad boy living a double life. He was going to be so hard to tame, he was going to put Lian through the wringer, and it was going to be amazing.

What I got was something very different from what I expected, and I struggled with the show.

But it was a really valuable learning moment for me. Because everything in the trailer was in the series. It was my interpretation of it, of those few minutes out of hours of material, my assumptions about the moments not yet shown, that caused me frustration.

That was a turning point in my "let's see where the journey takes us" philosophy. And I have to say, engaging in QL has been a hell of a lot more fun since I learned to let go of what I thought should happen.

I still have critiques of shows, of course I do. Nothing is above criticism. But I don't get so personally affronted now when something doesn't do what I expect. I'm more willing to see where the destination takes us before I decide the journey isn't working.

Of course I am still human, and I still get caught off guard sometimes by expectations I didn't realize I had let slip in.

But I have found my experience immeasurably improved by considering a few things when I'm watching a series:

Am I leading with curiosity, or judgment?

What is happening here culturally? What assumptions am I making based on my own background and country of origin? What happens if I step back and look at the bigger picture of how this culture engages with media? Do I even know, or do I have more to learn?

Is this actually bad... or is it just not for me? Is this just not resonating with me? Is it making me uncomfortable? What can this discomfort tell me about myself? Is it a bad show, or just a show I need to walk away from?

Am I more focused on the story I want told, and not paying enough attention to the story that the creators of the series want to tell? What assumptions am I making about their intent?

Am I only focused on what the value is for me as an individual, and not considering how this may be making other people feel seen or be meeting their needs? Can I acknowledge that there can be inherent value in things that do not give value to me personally?

There is value in critique, but there is also importance in self-reflection and understanding why we are feeling the way that we are, and when our own setting of expectations may be playing a role.

It's funny that in some ways this seems to be a reflection of what a golden age of QL we are living in - there are so many options, and time is so scarce, that I can see why people are frustrated when they feel like a show is not living up to what they wanted.

But as someone who has lived multiple decades without this kind of media, and only relatively recently having been able to experience it...there is a lot more to be gained by reveling in what you are loving than over what you are hating.

[thehooliganhangoutspot]

Responding to the person about Bruno liking the pics of Jessica.

I think, judging from aside people notice this and pay attention to what’s happening on their social media because there’s no other insight into what happened. Jessica obscures clarification because she knows B’s fans (the majority of them) will not care about her if she’s not with him. She is the one with deleting the stupid pictures nobody ever wanted to see. Then liking his posts. Then again deleting pictures, but leaving one to left everyone in blissful ignorance because God forbid we’ll find out something went wrong in her blessed ass world.

About him liking her pics… I know, to us, it seems like something but it’s still nothing more than a double tap. They get million of these likes daily. Also, non celebrities do that all the time too—break up and then orbit on your social media by liking pics/watching stories. It’s not an action that speaks of anything, it’s literally nothing. We all know she’s probably still living off of his money somehow—that could be a bigger thing than liking pictures. We don’t know if he was paying her a monthly allowance during relationship or still sponsors her life), otherwise how does she afford life in LA, acting classes, uber, and all the beauty procedures if she hasn’t had a sustainable work project for this long? Still, if he is doing all of that it means only that Bruno is a good man. After you lived with someone for this long, it’s not normal people’s instinct to pretend it did not happen, delete all the photographs, or unfollow them. It’s normal to acknowledge each other’s existence after a break-up. Also if he unfollowed her, that would humiliate a woman in the eyes of many who pay attention. I know many don’t think that, but maybe he’s just a nice guy who can still maintain respect for his past even if he wants to move on.

Maybe someone still has a hope there and that’s why we’re not sure about the break up yet. On the other hand, Nazanin and Miguel broke up after so many years together, then got back together, and then divorced. After years of relationship, it could happen in waves.

I just hope the fear of the unknown doesn’t lead Bruno to settle. He’s young, full of potential and ambition, and I hope he finds true love in someone more sincere.

[bi-sapphics]

yeah i am also a lot more in the sapphic side but like this is my exception, im not even sure if i can't "shoot my shot" but if so it'll have to wait and... idk i still feel like people might think i am just faking butchness and sapphism or whatever i don't even look like an average butch but people can def sense my masculinity and ... one of the things that i like abt him is that he does get these gender feels ???? i might've gotten too emotional sending my original ask, anyways, ur blog has always made me feel safer as a butch who IDs as sapphic as a mess specific term, i always feel more welcome in bi-er butch blogs like not just "butch is open!!!" type of people, the "bi butches i love you" blogs

what i can tell you for sure is that butch is inherently an identity, not just a role in relationships. for some it's solely the former, for some it's more the latter, and for some it's mixed and/or inextricable. i think for you, it would help yourself to say your butchness revolves around the former. in fact, maintaining that being butch is your *identity* is something most lesbians will agree with and build their foundation of understanding the subculture on, whether they acknowledge the rest of its expanded community history or not. this alone solidifies bisexuals being included in the queerness of taking on butch/femme among the rest of the arguments, especially if we're basing this on relationship status and who we're dating at the time (or plan on dating). besides, if you're masculine and "qualify" otherwise anyway then the shoe fits. assuming this is going on irl then nobody's really going to give you any shit for it unless you just hang around nit-picky biphobic people who love to hate randomly. it simply doesn't matter in the long run and nobody's going to care at the end of the day. the term doesn't "belong" to anyone and is also used to describe appearance regarding some straight women in non-queer spaces. that's just how everyday language works, it isn't used wrong in any way if you look at the bigger picture.

that being said, a lot of butch/femme focused lesbians don't understand this, nor do they care to. this results in backlash and gatekeeping, the degree of which varies from how mean people want to be online (and there are much more than plenty of nasty ones). worrying about that is perfectly understandable; even i suffer from anxiety over it. i can't exactly help you through totally getting through this, as again, it's complex and i feel like my offer would be too vague and generic. but i can emphasize that you should definitely keep doing what you said about feeling more welcome in bi-positive blogs specifically that mention and talk about the importance of including us. this, and blocking ahistorical biphobes while refusing to engage with them. if your content feed is full of bisexuals being unapologetic for taking up space, that should build your confidence overtime. i know i've come a long way, from finding community to knowing i can rely on what i have to support myself. i realize that i don't have to justify myself if i don't want to, even though i do anyway in order to protect and educate as best i can. that's my choice, but it shouldn't be a requirement for everyone else (hence why i wish to spread the right information myself).

i still can't give you good advice on the guy you like (not to mention that it'd be better far more more productive if it were personally tailored to your relationship with him), but i hope this gives you just a little comfort for interacting with spaces online. no one has the right to deny or erase your identity because of who you're with, which goes both for your butchness and your bisexuality. you can't stop them from doing so, but you don't have to give them what they want or pay them any attention either.

[exantuate]

Parent session:

Trait #4 RESPECT

Humility is the key ingredient to respect

1 Peter 2:17

Genesis 1:27

How we treat our spouse has a direct impact on how our children will treat others

1. What we think: remembering, being present, renewing of the mind

2. Where we look - at them when talking, dangers of multitasking, no phones or gadgets when family time, being present,

3. How we pay attention and listen, give our full attention, learning to wait, ways to pay attention and listen

4. What we say, be aware, and sensitive, be lovingly honest with your words,

5. What we do, model

5 things to do that model respect in your family

1. Stay calm, pray, slow to speak, try not to take it personally,

2. Be on time - be aware my actions affect others

3. Serve one another - start from a young age, help kids understand that life is not about fairness or what’s best for themselves

4. Respect differences -

5. Follow through - keep your promises, don’t make promises you can’t keep

Kids who understand the importance tend to have healthier relationships in the future

Trait #5

Grace and forgiveness

We are all flawed, we are all learning.

3 ways to show grace in parenting:

1. The husband and wife relationship, to model they are on the same team. Kids witness the reality that marriage requires constant attention to maintain a bridge of understanding

2. Be aware of personality differences

🦁: leaders, visionary, hard workers, strong, bold, intense, like to be in control, don’t have flexible mind set, don’t like change, don’t like conflict, will deal with conflict right away.

🦦: spontaneous, restless, outgoing, bubbly, flexible mindset, don’t mind crisis, prefer relationships over task. Talker. Opposite of sea otter.

Golden retriever: compassionate, loyal, flexible mindset, tend to avoid and dislike conflicts, people pleasers, not overly opinionated, opposite of lion

🦫: organized, analytical, perfectionist, they like rules, structure, function well, moody, self centred

*some personalities might match more with another. One parent may connect with one of the personalities a lot more.

Four major stages of development

1. Infant to 3 years old

2. Four to five years old - learn about obedience, disobedience, consequences, ask a lot of questions

3. Six to Twelve years old: experiencing lots of changes in brain, emotional, and hormonal, focus on imperfections, flaws, mom and dad says this, but the 🌎 is this, or mom and dad are doing the opposite of what they say. Noticing, sex differences, questions about boundaries, inconsistencies, fairness. They are not trying to challenge our authority, but making sense of the world by questioning us. Understand that it’s normal at their stage. If they bring up an inconsistency in your life: it’s best to acknowledge it. Mom and dad also struggle with it, and don’t try to save face.

We need Gods grace, and Gods forgiveness.

4. 13-18 years old

Becoming more prone to take risks, longing to belong and fit in (fitting in vs belonging). Pursuit of friendship as part of survival. Get bored easily. Tend to stay up later, don’t feel as cold.

***showing grace at each stage of development does NOT mean we lower Gods kingdom standards for our children 👧

Train up a child in the way he should go. And when he is old he will not depart from it. Proverbs 22:6

Forgiveness: confession involves admitting and asking for forgiveness

Admitting when we are wrong, to our kids, can have kids respect you more!!!!!

Confess: it’s okay to make mistakes, kids don’t need that anxiety to be perfect. Confessions to one another, will bring us together.

Steps to develop forgiveness eness in the family:

1. Prayer “Lord help me, I’m really frustrated right now”, calms you down, so fire doesn’t get out of control

2. Stop and ask questions to understand: do not jump to conclusion. Understanding requires communication. Listening - hear what they are saying “check in to what they are saying”. Seek to understand the bigger picture.

Ex: they may lie because,,, there’s a bigger issue at play

3. PAUSE, reset and restart. Instead of reacting, just take a break maybe to the bathroom.

[kaistarus]

The Only Exception

Pairing: NishinoyaXReader

Words: 2.2K

Summary: Nishinoya was genuinely happy with his life. He’d gotten used to being by himself and had accepted the fact that that was how it was supposed to be. Until you came along and threw everything he thought made sense out the window.

A/N: I really like this fic. It’s one of my favorites Nishinoya ones so far just because it’s his pov and timeskip and the amount of love feels makes me happy. i got a lot of serotonin while writing it :D

Masterlist

Nishinoya had never been someone’s first choice.

He knew that sounded dramatic, but it was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, Tanaka could chug three-fourths gallon of milk before vomiting, and Nishinoya was never anyone’s preferred option--which never bothered him so keep the pity to yourself.

He learned to accept this when he never got scouted for the All-Japan Youth Camp and after the only person Nishinoya ever even kind of loved ended up loving his best friend. It taught him to keep his expectations low and to focus on things he could control, which was what led him to solo-traveling Japan and then the world. He realized things might be better on his own, and with the constant itch that he was missing out on something bigger traveling alone just made sense.

But then you came and ruined everything.

Hold on. That came off way more aggressive than Nishinoya wanted. He meant there was a perfect vision for how his life would go-pyramids in Egypt, Hollywood sign in Los Angeles, deep sea fishing in Italy-until he toppled over you in the streets of Italy. He’d been sprinting toward the docks when you stepped out of a marketplace and he collided into you, knocking you flat on your butt and sending your groceries all over the sidewalk. Nishinoya fumbled through his best apology in broken Italian while shoving produce into your paper bag, but froze in surprise when you snorted rather than began an enraged lecture.

He swore his heart actually stopped when your eyes met. You were clearly amused by his flustered behavior and when his heart started back up it was abnormally fast. Not once had he understood what Tanaka meant when he explained the first time he’d seen Kiyoko, but the first time Nishinoya saw you everything Tanaka said clicked. If Nishinoya had been fifteen he probably would’ve proposed to you on the spot.

But he wasn’t, so instead he shakily handed you your groceries with furiously red cheeks.

“Come ti chiami?” You asked with a raised brow.

Nishinoya blinked several times. He racked his brain for what he’d been taught on his last fishing trip, but it was mostly curses and inappropriate sayings he should probably avoid using. He was pretty sure Duolingo mentioned ‘chiamo’ as name though.

“Nishinoya?” He answered like a question and felt relief wash over him when you nodded.

“What are you doing this weekend, Nishinoya?”

He stared blankly before pointing at you with wide eyes, “I understood that.”

“Well you obviously don’t know Italian,” you rolled your eyes and he pouted at the incredibly accurate jab, “so, are you free?”

He looked around the empty street before pointing to himself. “Are you still talking to me?”

“Is there another Nishinoya around here?”

“I mean, there could be.” He looked up thoughtfully. “The odds would be crazy though.”

You laughed lightly which made a warmth creep up his neck. “I’m talking to you. I’m trying to ask you on a date.”

He looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “Why?”

“You’re attractive and you seem nice,” you cocked your head to the side. “Is that not a good reason?”

He stared at the ground intensely. “I guess… It is?” Then his original reason for being there struck him and his eyes widened. “Oh shit. I have to go,” he started leaving before quickly coming back. “Wait, I, uh, yes. Yes to the date thing.”

You chuckled, pulling a cellphone from your pocket to let him hurriedly create his contact before continuing his sprint to the docks-with a teasing recommendation not to knock anyone else over. That literal run in was the moment his entire world view became out of whack.

It wasn’t that he thought he was immune to liking someone-high school Nishinoya fell for any breathing human that gave him attention-he just lost the ability to imagine someone liking him. Maybe he’d been by himself too long or maybe that was just another fact he’d grown used to. He didn’t know anymore.

He did know that when he showed up at the restaurant thirty minutes early-there’s only so much pacing someone can do before they go insane-he hadn’t expected to see you. Just sitting on a bench beside the main entrance, looking too perfect while bouncing a knee and nibbling on your thumb nail as if you were nervous to be there.

Except it was only him, so that wouldn’t make sense.

“Hey,” you said when you spotted him standing in the middle of the sidewalk like an idiot.

“You’re here,” he raised a brow. You took it as the time, but he meant it in a general sense. He truly hadn’t expected you to show up.

“Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly, twisting the material of your clothes. “Yeah, I was kind of nervous.”

He mulled that over for admittedly too long, but it just seemed like such a stupid thing to say. It wasn’t that you looked stupid, but that’s what made it so confusing.

“You’re also early.” You pointed out when the silence became awkwardly long.

“I was nervous.” He said like it should have been obvious.

“At least we’re starting on equal ground,” you said with a shaky breath.

Equal ground? He wasn’t sure his brain was cut out for this type of critical thinking. He’d even spent the past few days planning for every scenario-even you sneaking out the bathroom like in the movies-but he never pictured you being nervous.

“Uh, yeah,” he tapped against his leg while glancing through the window at the half-filled dining area, “we can probably go inside.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” you gave him a quick finger gun before whipping around with shoulders to your ears.

Nishinoya blinked several times before looking back down the street. A part of him thought about running, saving you both from the shitty date to come filled with awful conversation starters he’d pulled from an online article for high schoolers. However his fate was sealed the moment you sent a gentle smile over your shoulder and his feet began following you through the door without his permission.

Ever since that day he’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ever since you giggled behind your hand instead of wincing at the terrible jokes he regretted the moment they left his mouth; ever since you weren’t burdened by the need to translate for him the whole night; and ever since you were amused rather than annoyed at his nervous rambling and awkward icebreakers.

It was just too good to be true.

Like the first time you came over and teased him for the cheesy dialogue in his favorite action movies. How his chest ached when your head rested in his lap and you gazed at him with overwhelming amounts of affection. He’d never dreamed he’d have this-couldn’t have if he tried. Sharing his favorite things with someone while they traced designs against his palm and occasionally sealing them with featherlight kisses. The fire it sent up his arm was too much and not enough and he hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted this.

It was a little scary how much Nishinoya didn’t want to lose it.

And that thought started keeping him up at night. Nishinoya was never really scared of anything-it was kind of what he was known for everywhere he traveled. If anyone needed something done they asked the foreigner with a death wish. So, the idea that you had that effect on him was, again, terrifying.

But what was Nishinoya supposed to do when you press your forehead against his in the middle of the night? Running your fingers through his hair and paying special attention to the blonde strands he’d always been secretly self-conscious of, whispering low how they were one of your favorite things in the world. How could he regret anything when you rubbed your nose lazily against his and kissed him softer than he ever deserved? He didn’t give a shit how scared he was if it meant he could stay like this, with you, for as long as you’d let him.

Because his heart raced a million miles a second when you mindlessly held his hand under a table or leaned against him just to be close. Because for some reason he was the first person you called when you were excited or when you needed comfort. Because when he rambled too long about spearfishing or an old friend’s volleyball game your eyes lit with genuine interest rather than annoyance. And because he was in love with you.

Which he both wasn’t prepared for and had known was inevitable. Falling for you had been like getting hit by a semi-truck he’d seen coming for miles.

It probably happened sooner than socially acceptable, but that didn’t surprise him given his all or nothing nature. This outcome was decided the moment Nishinoya knew he’d be fine with you breaking his heart a hundred times if it meant he could keep waking up next to you cascaded by the rising sun because he was still too lazy to invest in curtains. Just you cuddling closer to him for warmth in your sleep would make every ounce of pain worth it.

Once Nishinoya’d acknowledged his feelings it was nearly impossible keeping them down. With every breathtaking smile, or brush of your hand against his, or bubble of laughter that rang throughout his apartment it nearly spilled from his lips like a breath. It took all self-restraint he had to hold it back. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want you to know because you deserved this piece of him-every piece of him.

He just wasn’t sure you’d want it.

His resolve lasted nearly a month-a month longer than he thought he was capable-before the feeling was too intense for him to keep down. And it wasn’t anything drastic that made him break. No, it was something so absurdly casual that he was almost pissed at himself when the words flowed from his mouth.

It had been a completely average morning, nothing crazy, the weather was actually gross with rain pounding against the windows and the sky a depressing shade of grey. But then you stepped out of his bathroom while rubbing the sleep from your eyes, giving him a lopsided smile before slurring a soft request for breakfast. It was like time froze and he was in a stupid romcom except you were there so it was actually an oscar nominated masterpiece.

Your head lolled to the side, half-lidded eyes filling with concern at his silence. “We can cook together. I didn’t mean it like-”

“I love you.”

That seemed to wake you up. Your body straightened while your mouth hung open in stunned silence. Nishinoya had expected this kind of reaction, so he clenched his fists tight in preparation for the worst.

“Are you sure?” You asked, barely above a whisper. “That’s a pretty serious word, Noya.”

He knew that. Nishinoya had spent too many nights losing sleep over that.

“You scare me,” he confessed, deciding if he was going to dig his grave he might as well make it deep. “I’ve never really been the one someone chooses. More like deal or settle with.” He grimaced when his heart squeezed painfully in his chest, “but I love you more than I thought I could ever love anyone and that scares me. You make me feel wanted and I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Because I do want you.” You whispered and his stare locked on yours so quickly, meeting your loving gaze while his heart started racing. “And everyone you know must be really stupid because I feel lucky I got to choose you. I get to love you.”

He stared at you wide-eyed while his chest swelled with so much emotion he was surprised he hadn’t passed out.

“Sorry, that sounded really lame.” You placed a hand against your forehead and Nishinoya shook his head vigorously.

“I think that was the greatest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You stepped closer and cradled his face, gently brushing your thumbs along his cheeks. If he wasn’t so manly and awesome he may have teared up, but he definitely didn’t. Which was why you obviously weren’t wiping any water off his cheeks before pulling his lips against yours.

Nishinoya set a languid pace that turned desperate when you tangled your fingers in his hair. He pulled you as close as he could, which was never enough, snaking an arm around your middle and sliding one to cradle the back of your head. 

When it got heated enough that he decided he’d very much like to move it to his bedroom Nishinoya’s stomach growled and you snorted against his lips. Nishinoya pouted, whining when you pulled away with a playful smirk.

“Later,” you said, pinching his cheeks and waving his head around. “Food first. We’re both hungry.”

He did love food.

He disrespectfully watched you leave him in favor of searching the fridge for food that could be thrown together for breakfast. A dopey smile covered his lips because he loved you. He was lucky enough to get to love you. And for some ridiculous fucking reason you were dumb enough to love him.

He would do whatever he could to keep it this way. For now, that was helping you cook breakfast. Tomorrow, who knows? But whatever it was you would be there, so it would be pretty god damn amazing.

[sanutopia]

ateez as boyfriends ♡

hi so this is my first drabble-ish thing on here so if u like it or want some more things like this please let me know :D  

im a sucker for ateez as it is, let alone ateez as soft boyfriends so find me crawling in a hole and crying 

seonghwa: 

loves to cuddle you while playing with your hair

loves when you go shopping and use his card because he enjoys the fashion shows you put on for him

loves taking pictures of you 

leaving random love notes all over the house? of course

fancy candlelit dinner (he almost burnt the house down)

soft video calls at 3 am while they’re on tour so he can tell you how much he misses you while pouting 

please compliment him a lot because he lives for it and won’t stop blushing for at least 30 minutes after

loves going to the park and taking long walks with you while holding your hand (he’s needy for attention and pouts when you don’t give it to him)

oh and also he does the thingy with his thumb where he caresses your hand as hes holding it yanno

loves to kiss your forehead

hongjoong: 

GO TO THE STUDIO WITH HIM AND LISTEN TO HIS WORK 

“baby i’m gonna send you this song, can you tell me what you think?”

matching/coordinating couple outfits with you... period

loves sending you cute pics of him while hes away or probably just in a separate room “do i look cute in this? i’m cute aren’t i?”

loves taking pictures of you as well and then won’t shut up about how good you look in them and how lucky he is to be with someone like you

loves to ask you about your day while eating dinner- he probably has his chin resting in the palm of his hand giving you his full attention

you make couple bracelets on his days off

loves surprising you with spontaneous dates

kisses your hand as hes holding it i’m not okay

you have rap battles at 3 am when neither of you can sleep

he’s the little spoon. i won’t budge on that

best pet names ever

yunho:

PLEASE CUDDLE HIM 24/7!!! back hugs!!! 

loves when you bury your head in his chest while hugging him because he can kiss the top of your head

hes literally a giant baby imagine when he’s away for a long time and sees you for the first time in a while?? he’s smiling BIG

loves to tease you jokingly and call you stupid names because he knows you hate that

steal all of his sweatshirts ALL OF THEM

constant dance battles (he incorporates dance moves into daily activities so please follow along)

i can’t stress this enough he is a giant baby and needs to be loved and appreciated at all times 

if he doesn’t get what he wants he will give you the face (you know the one with the big puppy eyes) its devastating truly

you play with his hair, not the other way around

loves squishing your cheeks and then kissing them

yeosang:

he falls in love very quickly so he’s willing to do absolutely anything and everything for you

GIGGLES 

compliments you a lot (sometimes it might be cringe worthy but he means every word and won’t let you forget it)

loves to cuddle up with lots of blankets and watch movies with you

sings you to sleep

sees you as his safe place- he trusts you with everything and will tell you everything after a bad day

shy in public

you get to see him daily without makeup.......kiss his birthmark for me

you also get to see his cute little sweater paws 

lowkey gets jealous but doesn’t show it

he’s a soft baby

take bubble baths with him!!!

loves picking flowers while on walks so he can give them to you :(

san:

when you kiss him too many times he starts giggling

he is so dramatic and extra.... i don’t think i have to explain that one

loves when you kiss his neck and pay extra attention to his neck freckles i’m absolutely broken

lives for hugs and his hugs seem like they last hours

he’s going to serenade you whenever possible (mainly when you’re busy) to get your attention

loves the game ‘just dance’ and will NOT hesitate to let you know he has the highest score 

he’s broken two vases and a lamp because he dances so hard

brings you a plushie from every place he goes - he ends up stealing every single one of them

loves taking naps with you and rubbing your back while you lay on top of him

sleeping until noon

TICKLE FIGHTS (imagine his laugh while you tickle his tummy....this is so sad)

make him smile so you can see his dimples!

loves writing you letters 

mingi:

he’s a huge dork

keeps you up until 2 am because he wants to tell you about conspiracy theories he has

“hey do you think-” “mingi please go to sleep”

movie marathons on a friday night, tipsy and full of junk food 

super clingy and very playful with you 

same with yunho, but will not let you forget how much bigger he is than you

“oh you can’t reach that?? that’s so sad..... i guess i can reach it for you since i’m tall boy :D”

evening walks in the city

loves introducing you to new music and new places

if he learns a new choreo he’s ACHING to show it to you

purposely buys two of every sweatshirt because he knows you’ll steal one

tells you stupid jokes just to see you laugh

also shy, gets embarrassed easily 

wooyoung:

wooyoung BABY

pillow fights, couch cushion forts, you name it

secret handshake? duh

POUTS and looks up at you with his big starry eyes

ᵗᵃˡᵏˢ ᶦⁿ ᵗᶦⁿʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᶦˢ ʷᵃʸ

loves to bicker with you simply because he finds it entertaining

won’t let you get out of bed because he won’t let go of you for the love of god

loves to cuddle you and will be the big spoon or little spoon

loves to spoil you and be spoiled and hes so cute when receiving gifts because he has the cutest reactions 

he is your number one fan and won’t hesitate to let the entire world know that

went to the grocery store once for milk and came back with 3 puppies 

“what else was i supposed to do, you wanted one and they were right there” 

“theyre cute like me right???” 

loves pecking your cheeks and booping your nose 

please make him laugh all the time his laugh cures cancer

jongho:

you get to hear him singing in the shower

loves to lay his head in your lap while you watch movies so you can pet his head

cheek kisses are so soft :(

hes so gentle with you and everything he does :(

loves putting his arm around you 

half asleep i love you’s 

kisses all over your face in the morning to wake you up

he loves you so much, probably more than you love him 

remembers every special occasion and sometimes treats regular days like special occasions 

will take you anywhere you want to go and would go get the moon for you if you asked

i’m not going to say this again imagine hearing his singing just.... sitting there like please acknowledge how talented he is and how proud of him you are

he works hard for you and loves laying in bed and watching movies when he gets home

[greyeyedmonster-18]

information about ceramics that you didn't need to know but I'm telling you anyway because we love a metaphor, part 3- recycling clay:

this was mentioned in chapter 8 of "ten reasons" and it's all 100% true.

In ceramics, you can take greenware, essentially dried clay that has not been fired yet, smash it to bits and recycle it into other clay. there is a variety of reason you would have greenware:

1. from trimming pots/other vessels on the wheel. you don't keep every part of the vessel that you make on the wheel. when it's about half-way dry and you're certain you're not going to make it anymore, you can take a trimming tool and smooth out the edges/create specific shapes in the pot. all those trimmings that come off? you can put in a bucket, and save for recycling. all the parts that didn't quite make it. all the pieces that you could do without, can be recycled to be used again.

2. you made something and waited too long to paint it or decided that you didn't like it after all (when i ceramics-ed, i was notorious for letting all my things turn to greenware that was basically unusable because it got too dry and wouldn't be able to go into the kiln). that entire piece can be broken down and put in the bucket with the trimmings to be used again. to make something new.

greenware is also interesting because it's an in-between phase (did i mention we love liminal spaces over here?) and is a phase you need to pay attention to. clay turns color when it's ready to be fired, and when it's good to glaze. there is also select windows of opportunities you have with greenware where you can rehydrate and reshape it. Say you made a pot, you were happy with it, 3 days go by, you look at it again and you're like-what the hell is this atrocity?- GOOD NEWS! You can go back and fix it! You can rewet the clay! You can try again!

But, moving along.

All the trimmings and broken down greenware (which you can break by literally throwing against walls or stepping on and I highly recommend this), and put it in a bucket. Then you fill the bucket up with a shit ton of water and you wait. You can go back and check it every couple days--you put your hand into the depths of muddy, foggy clay water and see what consistency it's at. Once it's starting to feel moist, you basically work blind in that bucket of water and try to push the broken parts together until they adhere and then they're whole again.

And then, you have to be sure to take the clay out of the water, and wedge it (remember when we talked about this?) to get the air bubbles out before you attempt to make with it. But like...the nice thing is, if something falls apart again... you can always recycle it.

side bar.

there's a really popular....image of ceramics that I've seen on tumblr of the art practice: Kintsugi, which is a Japanese ceramics practice where they fix broken pottery with gold. the idea is to embrace flaws and imperfections. That essentially damage...can be beautiful. it can be "good damage"

and no hate to this at all, some days, i get this. somedays this is so important to hold onto. this hope that there's a bigger picture and a brighter world. but most days, i live in the space where...sometimes damage is just...damage. (grief is just grief. it doesn't have to happen for a reason, there doesn't have to be a bigger meaning, sometimes it just...is grief.)

bad things happen and that sucks. you can embrace something and acknowledge something without trying to make it beautiful (and like, sometimes damage really isn't beautiful no matter how you slice it). and in terms of "ten reasons"--there was no glamorous way to talk about, and live with your husband of 10 years cheating on you. For Remus, even though it lead him to U.P. where he met Sirius, he could've gone his whole life without experiencing that type of heartache. It wasn't good damage. It was just damage.

But...that..doesn't mean you can't take the damage, put yourself back together, and recycle.

[candyopala]

Stuck in his ways, chapter 1

Sinopsis:  After deciding to settle down after a whole life of mercenary work, Y/N moves to Konoha and becomes a nin thanks to an old favor the Nara clan owed her. She is assigned to a jonin mentor, but he is not too happy about his new task since he is a man stuck in his ways and a bit closed off. Will they be able to work their differences out?

Chapter summary: First impressions are important, especially when they are bad. 

Words: 1.3k

Chapter: 1/? 

AO3

“You’re at least an hour late, Obito”

Another restless night, two old ladies needing help with their groceries, Kakashi bothering him again to go on one of those blind dates, yeah, of course Obito was late again. The Uchiha flinches as he hears this as he goes through Minato’s office door. He does not try to come with any excuses, his former sensei knows him too well to fall for any of it, and so he just apologizes. 

“You know, I sometimes tend to go too soft on you but this is third time this week you’re late. That’s a lot even for you.”

“I’m sorry sir I promise this won’t happen again”

“It won’t because I’m suspending you from getting S ranked missions until you change this behavior. I can clearly see that something is not wright with you lately”

Great, just great. 

“Anyway, I was going to assign this one to a jonin with less experience and prestige as you, but I think I’ll be giving it to you since I’m sure you need to cool down a little, get some rest. You will be training a new chunin I just promoted exceptionally, not in a team due to specific circumstances, just one student. I want you to evaluate their abilities and teach them the ways of the village”

Obito immediately hunches his back forward in a mix of disappointment and frustration. He has been working so hard lately on his missions in an effort to impress, he wants to be the next Hokage, after all. Fine, he has been a little tired and unmotivated lately but hell, he still is better than most ninja, he does not deserve to be babysitting chunin like that. 

Minato hands him a folder and gives him some more detail about the student in question, but the Uchiha does not pay any attention on it. He lazily starts making his way to the training field he was told his new pupil would be. Obito figures he will just borrow those bells from Kakashi and put them through it, no way in hell anyone will be able to pass this test with him as the teacher and he will get rid of this situation quickly. 

One quick look through the file and Obito immediately recognizes the face on the top of the first page. The outsider joining the village. Great. Her face on paper stares back at him, the unmistakable cold look of someone that just kills for a living with no clear objective but money. As if he was not already uncomfortable in the position of teacher, it had to be someone his prejudices will not allow him to fully trust and on top of that, another person to give him that look, that awful look they have when they first see him. 

Leaning into a tree, Obito keeps reading the papers. Ex merc, over a hundred captured S ranked missing nin, taijutsu and blade techniques, uninteresting details about the girl’s life. What on earth Minato had on his mind to allow someone from outside into the village’s ranks? He knows they are still struggling with reduced numbers since the war, but for Kami’s sake, village secrets cannot be told to just anybody like this. 

He takes another look at the picture and the word pretty comes up in his mind, only to be immediately shut down by a pile of self-imposed negative thoughts. 

“Hm, probably just a weakling traitor” He thinks aloud while still gazing at the folder. 

 ~”~  

 Y/N sits close to the top of a tree observing the training grounds. These few weeks have been… exhausting. She never thought that settling down would be so complicated, but some of that is on her for choosing to be a village ninja and not opting to just open a small bakery or something. 

They told her that her new mentor was supposed to meet her here, but she has been waiting here for over an hour and a half and… nothing. As if having to get used to ranks and authorities was not overbearing enough, she will have to deal with someone closely bossing her around. 

After a while, she hears footsteps in the direction of the clearing she was in. A tall man appears, from this height she can only make out his black colored hair and jonin vest. This must be her supposed mentor, he has a beige folder and he is reading it intently. He appears to not have noticed her presence, so she decides to get down and approach him silently as to find out if what he has in his hands is about her. What can she do? She is a curious being. 

Jumping down silently and getting closer from behind, he has not noticed her yet. She is able to look at the open folder, the jonin is staring at a picture of her. A bad picture if you ask her opinion, almost a mugshot. 

“Hm, probably just a weakling traitor” the man says clearly referring to her picture. 

“Ok, rude” is what she is able to say in response, while in truth she really wanted to spell out her entire extensive catalog of insults

Caught off guard, the man immediately points a kunai at her neck. A single red glowing eye meet hers, joined by a face half covered of scars that look incredibly painful, a vision that for sure would intimidate anyone. Y/N, on the other hand, has her interest growing bigger by the minute. She has heard of the dojutsu possessed by the Uchiha family in her travels and she knows they are native to Konoha, but she did not expect to meet one of them so quickly and to work with them on the field. The man is also strikingly han- uneducated, yes, uneducated. 

Deciding to discuss the awful thing he said about her just now later, Y/N raises her arms as sign of peace: 

“Calm down, I’m the one you were staring at in your creep file.”

Confused, the man stares at her and back at the picture a couple of time before finally letting his guard down. Putting the kunai back in his pocket, he finally speaks: 

“It’s not a creep file, it’s mission information. I’ve been assigned to be your mentor while you’re new to the village. Obito Uchiha, nice to meet you.”

“It’s not a creep file alright, but it is a little creepy to be staring at people’s faces for too long and saying mean stuff about them. Anyway, I’m Y/N L/N, nice to meet you too sir.”

Mr. Creep Uchiha seems quite lost until he visibly realizes what she is talking about, and then he gets visibly uncomfortable and a little mad, hence the pout forming in his lips.

“Are you sure you should be talking to your superiors like this?”

“Are you supposed to welcome new people like that?”

Awkward silence follows for a bit before Obito starts walking to the middle of the clearing, Y/N takes this as a lead for her to follow him. Stepping into the sun now, the Uchiha finally speaks again: 

“I want to see you fight” Is all he says, with a small conceited smirk creeping in. 

“Weren’t you supposed to explain things to m-“

“It won’t matter if you are too weak to even go out on a mission later. I’m not big on having my time wasted.”

Y/N is stumped. Normally she would have already jumped at him for treating her like this, how dare he talk to someone like that? To not even acknowledge her. But in this new situation of hers she is obligated to not do anything, the only thing that escapes her mouth is a small whisper of the word asshole. 

“Catch these bells. Fail to do so and I’ll make sure you’re kicked out from here forever. We’ll talk about everything else later.”

What?!

[americasass81]

Make Her Mine - Chapter Five

{Warnings:- 18+, Dark theme, Smut, Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Sex, Spanking, Attempted Suffocation, Anal, Use of Inanimate Object, Swearing, Implied Breeding, Oral (male & female receiving), Brief Mention of Real People, Spitting}.  Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting.

This contains adult themes and by proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

A/N: Okay so I know it's been a while since we last checked in here but life and story block decided to pay me a visit.  At least the good news is I got the whole thing finished (will never reveal how I beat the block though😂).  Hope you all enjoy it.  Feedback is welcomed.

Pairing:- Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count:- 3,820

Waking beside Tony the next morning, your mind worked through all the possible options available to you.  You could try to escape, but with his stupid technology inside you, not only could he always find you but the two shocks you already received were still fresh in your mind.  Carefully reaching across him for the phone on the bedside table, Tony opened his eyes, caught hold of your hips and despite your struggles, placed you on top of him before thrusting up into your waiting pussy as he pulled your hips down to meet his.  "Fuck darling, what a way to wake up?  You feel fantastic.  Tell me you love how full I make you feel."

Holding onto his chest to steady yourself while trying to free yourself, you refused to even look at him.  Unhappy with both your non-participation and refusal to answer, he lifted you up until only his tip remained inside you and repeated the process again.  Each time he brought you down, a hand left a slap on your ass cheek and it wasn't long before his efforts brought a reaction from you.  Just not the one he expected.

Managing to successfully grab your pillow, you brought it down on Tony's face and couldn't believe your dumb luck when he started thrashing beneath you, before his hands fell from your body.  Holding the pillow in place a bit longer for good measure, you then removed yourself from his cock while grabbing his phone, t-shirt and boxers before running from the room.  Throwing on Tony's clothes while simultaneously making your way towards the kitchen, you tried the phone only to find it locked.

Upon reaching the kitchen, your spirits sank further when, as Tony had told you previously, both doors were indeed locked.  Searching around for some means to pry any door open, you eventually dropped to the floor while you contemplated the fucked up situation you now found yourself in.  Here you sat in a house you couldn't leave, with a dead Avenger and apparently no way of opening any door that wasn't your bedroom.  You would have cried at the dire circumstances now facing you if it wasn't for the sharp pain that radiated throughout your body, signaling that Tony Stark wasn't as dead as you thought.  Screaming and wrapping your arms around yourself as the pain increased, darkness claimed you once again before a pissed off Tony towered over your unconscious form.

                   *************

Finally coming round in a room you didn't recognize, the double doors however told you that you now occupied Tony's bed.  Looking around, you saw that while it might look similar to your room, it was in fact much bigger with three doors along one wall.  Above the bed proved another difference however and this one made you wish you could reach a bathroom.  Where the window in your room sat above the bed, here Tony had a mirror running the full length of the bed with the same ceiling window on either side.

Tearing your gaze away from the scene above, you looked once more at your naked form, but this time instead of being secured to the bed your hands and feet were simply bound together.  Giving you a bit more freedom, but still not allowing you to move, a noise off to your right brought your attention back to the three doors.  All of a sudden, the single one opened and there before you stood a dripping wet Tony Stark, draped in a black towel that left very little to the imagination.  Winking over at you, he made his way to the other two doors before emerging a short time later in boxers that were no better than the towel.  Rounding the bed and sitting on the couch you now just noticed, Tony couldn't help but admire the effort you made to roll onto your side in order to face him.  It seemed your determination and perseverance were fast becoming his favorite qualities.

Taking your time to catch your breath after the effort moving took, the look on his face did nothing to quell your rising anger or frustration.  "Well Mr. Stark, I guess it's safe to say you look pretty good for a dead man.  Do I get to find out what's in store for me now or later?"

"Oh Y/N . . .," he smiled, rising from the couch and laying down next to you on the bed.  "what I have planned for you will totally depend on the path you choose to take going forward."

"Path?  What path?  I can't believe you're actually going to give me a choice in any of this."

Sliding his hand along your side, he smiled broadly before cupping your face to make you look at him.  "You know, with as smart as you are you should be way higher up in the company.  How come you've never once applied for any promotional opportunity?" he asked, failing miserably to put you at ease.

"I already told you, I was happy where I was.  I was good at my job and it was well paying, while still affording me ample time to enjoy various hobbies.  Not everyone needs to be lord of everyone else." you directed at him.

"Lord of everyone?" he scoffed, his other hand stalling on your left thigh.  "Is that what you think of me?  Excuse me for seeing something I want and going after it.  As circumstances and you keep proving, life can be quite short.  One never knows when it might end."

"But I'm not something, Mr. Stark.  I'm someone.  Someone who's not interested in being your flavor of the month or however long you plan on playing with me."

"Oh darling, no.  No no no.  You're not a flavor of the month.  You're my forever.  All you have to do is choose it."

Bursting out laughing at this ridiculous statement, you rolled over onto your back again as you tried to compose yourself.  "I think I might have cut off too much air to your brain when I tried to smother you, because I honestly don't see any scenario where I agree to be yours."

Propping both of you up against the headboard, you cringed as he placed his arm around your waist before speaking again.  "Let's watch a little visual presentation and then you tell me where you stand."  With that a tv screen rose from what you thought was a box at the end of the bed, while Tony played around with the watch on his wrist.  As the screen came to life, your eyes widened when he opened a file titled 'New York Mob.'

Sebastian, Sabrina, Anthony, Scarlett, Jeremy, Chris and Brie, all possible known information about each and every one of them was displayed in eye opening clarity.  Tony it seemed had been thorough.  So thorough, you thought, that he could probably teach the F.B.I. and the C.I.A. a thing or two.  Looking as the information continued to scroll by, accompanied by an array of private pictures, your blood ran cold when you realized, this was his leverage.  While he had told you he didn't want a war with Sebastian, it seemed he was more than willing to mobilize the Avengers if necessary to keep you with him.

Turning off the screen when he felt your tears fall on his chest, he pulled you closer and wrapped his arms tenderly around you.  "You know you can keep them safe, right darling?  Just say you're mine and Steve, Wanda, Vision, Rhodey and Bruce need never know of their existence."

Wiping your tears, you managed to pull yourself free of his arms before glaring up at him.  "Are you out of your freaking mind?  You're a goddamn Avenger.  Heroes don't do this sort of shit."

"You're right Y/N, this is the kind of thing your friends do all too frequently.  But good girls also don't behave the way you do.  Now come here, say you're mine or by god you can face the consequences." he threatened as he held out his arms to you.

Figuring the worst he could do was shock you until you were gratefully unconscious again, you turned away from him, before curling into a ball and waiting for the painful darkness that never came.

                    *************

Snatching you up, while you fought as best you could, Tony sat back down on the couch, before placing your bound form across his lap and his left hand on your back.  Feeling his right hand massage your ass cheeks, you turned your head to face him as you realized knocking you out would be a blessing compared to what he had planned.

"Mr. Stark . . . Tony . . . you win.  I'm yours.  Now how about we get something to eat and discuss this future you envisioned?" you suggested, with as much fake sincerity as your frightened body could muster.

Having freed your legs and smiling broadly, Tony continued to stroke your ass as he leaned forward and kissed your lips before meeting your terrified gaze.  "Seven to ten minutes darling.  That's how long it takes to properly suffocate someone.  Shall we see how long it takes for my proud little girl to beg?"  With that, his hand left your ass before coming back down sharply.

Eyes fixed on the floor and thinking of all the ways you would love to see him suffer as a means to distract yourself, you let out a cry somewhere around slap nine, when this time it seemed the nanoparticle armor had made an appearance.  Not knowing how much time had passed, six more rapid blows of metal against flesh had your ass stinging and tears falling from your eyes.  Turning to face him once again, this time you hoped your current state could swing the situation in your favor.  "Tony please, it hurts so freaking much.  Stop this and I will say, do and be whatever you want."

"Aw Y/N, darling, we've only been at this a few minutes.  You and I both know your stubborn streak is much stronger than this.  Besides, I can tell when you're lying.  Now if you don't mind, I have some work to get back to."

Knowing you had failed to appeal to him, you renewed your efforts to free yourself, only for Tony to increase the pressure of his hand on your back.  Raining down many more metal slaps on each cheek, a scream ripped through you and your struggles died down when Tony spit on your ass before plugging you up with what you now knew to be a nano-cock.  You didn't know if it was sheer stubbornness or hatred that kept you from passing out, but as Tony picked up your crying, trembling form and placed you back on the bed, you were more determined than ever not to submit to him.

Wiping the tears from your eyes as he once again secured your hands to the bed, Tony couldn't help but lean closer to whisper in your ear.  "No more tears now, be my good girl and everything your heart desires will be yours."

"What my heart desires right now is to see you bleeding at my feet." you spat, moving around to head butt him once again.  "Ow fuck, that hurt."

Collapsing back down on the bed while trying to ignore the throbbing in your forehead, you watched as Tony rubbed his head before moving down the bed and discarding his boxers.  Then taking hold of your legs, he quickly secured each one to the bed with soft rope.  "Y/N, I really don't know what I did to warrant this level of hostility.  Where's the polite young lady who dropped off those files to my meeting Wednesday morning hmm?"

"Where she's been, is held captive by a delusional billionaire playboy who doesn't get that not every woman he meets wants to suck his cock."

Having settled himself between your legs, he seemed to contemplate what you said as one hand stroked his length, before the other made its way to your waiting folds. Once there, he then proceeded to slap your mound until tears and curses fell from your body once again.  "See darling this is the fundamental problem we're having right here." he smirked, as he ran his fingers along your slit before plunging inside.  "You run from me, claim you want nothing to do with me.  Hell, you even try to kill me, yet your body still craves my touch."  To prove his point, he withdrew his digits and brought them to your lips.

Opening your mouth when his other hand left his shaft to grab the nano-cock in your ass and push it deeper, his slick fingers entered your mouth, forcing you to taste your body's reaction to him.  Working in tandem, his other hand began moving the nano-cock at a steady pace, while your mouth hungrily latched onto his fingers.  In no time at all, shame bloomed within you as your back arched and the grin on Tony's face confirmed that he knew you had just come.

"Well now Y/N, what a way to prove me right.  Shall we try for another one?"  With that he removed his fingers from your mouth, moving them instead to your swollen clit.  Slapping it again, while continuing to move the cock in your ass, the nanoparticles and ropes kept you exactly where he wanted you.  Your demeanor changed dramatically however, when he slipped two fingers into your pussy and began pumping them and the nano-cock in and out of your body while his lips latched onto your clit.

"Oh my fucking god Tony, what the hell are you doing?" you cried out as your body fought not only the restraints, but the intense pleasure now radiating upwards and outwards from your core.  Now crying full on tears, this was a level of pleasure you had never before experienced and it scared you to think what the end result would be.  As Tony worked faster and harder, your breathing reached the point where you could no longer string two words together and as the nanoparticles loosened around your wrists, the coil in your stomach finally snapped and you saw black.

Coming around a few minutes later, an empty feeling in your ass told you the nano-cock had been removed while the smuggest looking Tony Stark you had ever come across, gently trailed his fingers up and down your over sensitive and tender folds.  "There's my beautiful Y/N." he said, as he leaned down to kiss your lips, while you were too tired to currently fight him.

Looking around, you discovered that you were no longer tied down to the bed, but for some reason your body also seemed to have trouble responding to your commands.  Sensing your rising confusion, Tony stopped his actions and instead focused all his attention on you before speaking.  "It's okay darling, everything is fine.  I just wore you out a bit is all." he smirked as he continued explaining.  "Your orgasm was so intense, that you actually passed out on me.  Thankfully the nanoparticles reassured me that nothing was wrong."  Leaning forward to kiss you once more, he brought his lips directly to your ear before whispering, "Tell me Y/N, am I the first man to ever make you squirt?"

Looking up at him in abject horror, your voice finally seemed to return to you, even if the rest of your mental faculties still seemed to be rearranging themselves.  "Squirt?  Tony what the fuck are you talking about and could you please stop doing that." you exclaimed, as his hand returned to your pussy while his mouth lavished attention on each of your tits.

Looking up at you, you couldn't recall ever seeing Tony Stark so proud of himself and that look alone almost made you feel sick.  "You soaked the sheets darling.  There's cum and fluid everywhere.  It was glorious.  V.I.R.G.I.L. taped it, I can replay it if you want."

As the vaguest memory of what had occurred finally bloomed in your mind, you at last returned to your senses and scrambled as far away for him as you could physically get.  "Jesus no, Mr. Stark.  What you can do is erase that fucking video right now and get it through your thick head that what happened will not, I REPEAT WILL NOT happen again."

"Oh, so I see we're back to Mr. Stark are we?  Well that just isn't going to work for me." he huffed out, as he moved quicker than you ever thought possible and had you once more held down on the bed beneath him.  Fighting back as best you could, the battle was lost when Tony sat atop your thighs before caging both your wrist in his powerful hand.  "Here's what's going to happen darling and I don't want to hear any complaints from you.  First I'm going to fuck this pussy of yours so good you'll never let another man near it.  Not that I'll ever let that happen anyway." he said, as your eyes followed his other hand down to where it stroked his now hard, red and leaking shaft.

"Then," he quickly added, noticing you were about to argue, "I'm going to fill you with so much cum that you'll always have a part of me inside you.  Afterwards we are going to move to the kitchen where you and I are going to enjoy a nice dinner before getting to know each other better.  Do I make myself clear?" he finally asked, as the tv returned to show images of your friends silently scrolling along the screen.

Reluctantly admitting defeat but too stubborn to let him see you break, you turned your gaze away from the screen to focus on him.  "O-okay T-tony," you croaked out as a victorious smile bloomed across his face and his lips moved down to capture yours in a searing kiss.

With that, he quickly removed himself from your thighs and parting your legs, lined his aching cock up with your now abused entrance before gently sliding home.  Failing to control the moans that left your lips as he set up a surprisingly tender rhythm, Tony was totally taken aback when he released your hands only to have them latch onto his shoulders as your legs left the bed to wrap around his waist.  It seemed for all your protests and complaints, Tony had been right about one fundamental point . . . your body craved the feelings he pulled from it.

Pulling out to just the tip and then thrusting back in just as slowly so your walls felt every vein and ridge of his impressive member, Tony kept up this slow, torturous pace until you couldn't stand it any longer.  "Oh for fuck’s sake Tony, put me out of my misery and fuck me like you promised."

Having finally gotten the desired result, Tony smirked down at you before releasing your legs from his waist and shoving them forward as far as they would go.  Now able to pound into you at a deeper angle, his cock reached places you never knew could feel so good.  Hitting your cervix and rubbing deliciously over your g-spot you finally gave voice to the pleasure he was working out of you.  "Ah yes Tony, right there.  That's it, please don't stop.  Fuck!" you begged as you tried your best to thrust against him.

"Oh my beautiful girl, you never have to beg me for anything and I have no intention of stopping." Tony panted while gazing down on you.  True to his word, Tony continued to pound into you and as he felt your walls begin to clench around his length, he reached his hand down between your joined bodies and began to apply enough pressure on your swollen clit to make you come undone.

"Ahh fuck.  Uhhh, make me come Tony."

Getting the hint that you were so close to the edge that you simply needed a little extra push, Tony looked into your eyes as he placed his mouth over your left breast and bit into your tender flesh.  Hearing the scream as your walls clamped down on his aching member, it was now Tony's turn to curse as his balls clenched up and both of you came in a torrent of cum and tangled limbs.

                    *************

Laying down beside you as you both began to recover from your release, Tony failed to notice the tears leaking from your eyes as you rolled onto your side with your back to his chest.  Wrapping his arms around you, he placed countless kisses all over your neck and shoulders while his hands roamed over your chest.  Once he heard your breathing return to normal, he released his hold on you before rising from the bed.  "Okay darling, let's get you cleaned up so we can see about that dinner I promised you."

Holding out his hand to help you from the bed, you couldn't remember a time when your body ached so much.  Leading you to the door he exited earlier, Tony opened the door to the luxury shower and ushered you inside.  Leaning against the tiled wall as the water hit your body, you jerked away when Tony came up behind you and lined his body up perfectly with yours.  "Easy darling, it's only me." he whispered as he handed you the bottle of shampoo.  Gazing down at the bottle, Tony seemed to understand what you were thinking and quickly used his powerful arms to cage yours by your side.

"Don't even think about it Y/N.  You've already proven you don't value your own life, but Sabrina's seems to be a different story.  All I have to do is have F.R.I.D.A.Y. alert Steve and your friend is nothing but a distant memory."  Dropping the bottle as the fight died in you, Tony released you to pick it up as you slumped against the wall.

However as the tears you were shedding had now dried up, your anger seemed to have returned and turning around as he neared you again, you raised your fist and connected squarely with Tony's jaw.  "You may have proven that my body craves you and you may hold my fate and that of my friends in your hands, but I will never accept being yours." you spat as Tony reached out and forcefully grabbed you by the hair.

Pulling your face close to his, he kissed you hungrily and spit in your mouth, before pushing you onto your knees and shoving his cock against your lips.  "Bite me darling and the New York Mob will witness a massacre the likes of which has never been seen." was all he said as he squeezed your jaw and thrust his length down your throat.

Tagging:- @nsfwsebbie , @hoseokchild , @ironlady1993 , @gotnofucks , @floatingdaisy7 , @taintedgenre , @buttercandy16 , sorry if I missed anyone.

[footballcloud]

Familiar - Anyone You’d Like

Unlucky today baby, when do you think you'll be home? xxx

delivered - 17:58

read - 18:02

It was a familiar feeling for you. Being ignored. It'd begun to become the norm meaning that loneliness had also begun to seep in. His team had suffered a heavy defeat, something else that was also becoming familiar for him and that meant you spent a large proportion of your time with him feeling like you were treading on eggshells. Although, you spent very little time together anymore, so at least he spared you that feeling. It was past 2 o'clock in the morning when he arrived home, from the 3 o'clock kick off but he seemed to be arriving back later and later each week which meant you were at home by yourself for longer and longer each week with only your phone for company. God knows what he was doing between leaving the ground and getting home. Your friends back home didn't cheer you up on FaceTime the same way a night out did but those had been few and far between recently.

As soon as he arrived home, he dropped his rucksack with a heavy thud by the door and closed it behind him. Brushing past you, he drank quickly from a glass of water that you'd left out for him in the hope it'd settle him down. You watched him as he drank it with his back turned to you, contemplating whether you should break the silence to try and console him but risk getting your head bitten off if he hadn't calmed down yet, or leave him to simmer for a while and speak to him in the morning. It wasn't a rarity for the two of you to go for days without speaking to each other despite living under the same roof and sharing a bed. You were working or he was training, away with the team or on his Xbox.

"How are you feeling?"   You asked tentatively, being able to feel his anger radiating off him even with is back still turned to you. "Fucking fantastic thanks", he made a snide, sarcastic remark and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve before refilling up his cup, "and don't tell me that bollocks about 'it's always better to talk things out', because not. You're the last person I want to speak to". He added abruptly, imitating your voice for a second or two before slamming his glass down on the kitchen worktop. His word stabbed through you like a knife in your back, but it was the last sentence that provided the fatal blow. It wasn't like you to lose it with him, you were definitely the calmer one out of the two, but even you were on the verge of losing it.

"If you don't want to talk to me now, when were you planning on speaking to me?" You raised your voice slightly as he turned round to face you and gave a pathetic shrug as if to say 'I don't know'. "Because if you're not planning on talking to me, then there's no point in me being here. You dragged me half way across the country for what? For you to ignore me, stay out until stupid hours of the morning and throw a tantrum like a child when I ask where you've been?" You snort scornfully, feeling your temper rising in your stomach but you didn't feel the need to suppress it given that's all you did around him.

"Jesus fucking Christ, lay off it will you? If it's so much of a chore to be here with me then go back home!" He folded his arms over his chest, vein pulsing prominently on the side of his neck which showed his heart rate pick up as his bit back at you. "Why can't you see the position that I'm in? Take yourself out of your stupid footballer bubble and see the bigger picture for a second. I've dropped everything for you to be here. Friends, family, degree, but you haven't even got the decency to acknowledge me!" You were somewhere between tears and about to erupt with anger. You needed to stop yourself from saying something you’d regret in a few hours time but there were some things that you needed to get off your chest because they’d be brewing in your head for a while. He’d certainly changed since he’d moved clubs, you weren’t sure if it was the bigger pay cheque, larger media following, heavier pressure on him from playing at a higher level or possibly a mixture of all of them - but he definitely wasn’t the same person you’d started dating almost three years ago now.

“All I see is someone being needy for attention”, he snarled which was the final straw for you so you took yourself off to the spare bedroom, not even able to look at him without his face making you distraught and a little teary, let alone share a bed with him. Your relationship had never been perfect, he’d blow hot and cold with you occasionally, dipping in and out of commitment without a second thought leaving you feeling like you were on the outside, never really knowing where you stood with him from time to time when he would give you the cold shoulder but cuddle you for a hour the next day. You weren’t perfect either, not being able to grasp how someone was so carefree, causing you to occasionally making a decision out of impulse rather than thinking through the consequences before hand, meaning an argument would escalate even more when he frustrated you. It was times like that when you had your biggest doubts. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours on end, trying to work out what you’d done to irritate him that time. The fact he was so carefree was beginning to become a reoccurring theme, possibly the root of the problem was that was he didn’t really care, or at least he acted like he didn’t. He was becoming inconsiderate and you were becoming tired of it.

The morning after wasn’t much better. The atmosphere was still heavy with tension that could you virtually cut with the knife you were buttering your toast with. He was across the kitchen from you, making a mug of tea with his back turned to you but you could tell from his posture alone that he was tired with his shoulders slumped. After last night’s fiasco, you’d learnt not to break the silence and get your head bitten off, you’d said all you felt you needed to without going too far and really doing some damage.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” He spoke, sleep evident in his voice as he threw the teabag in the bin. “Which bit?” You asked, not entirely sure as to which part if the argue argument he was picking at, there was quite a lot to go through. “When you were going on about the point in you being here?” He reminded of the events that’s you’d spent hours trying to block out your mind. You had two options: say yes and risk World War 3 taking place over the kitchen island or say no and bottle up your feelings again like you’d been doing for months. “Yeah... I did”, you confessed, chose the first options and watched his face sink. ‘Oh fuck’, you thought, ‘that wasn’t the answer he wanted’ - his emotions plastered on his face flung you into a world of guilt as he stared solemnly into his mug.

 “Would you go back home?” He asked, not breaking his gaze with his drink to make eye contact with you. You wanted him to know how you truly felt but without hurting him, even though he’d spent months unintentionally hurting you. “I’ve considered it”, you spilt to him, “only occasionally when I’m overthinking things. You know when your deep in thought in the middle of the night and everything seems a billion times worse than it actual is”, you added, trying to reason with him to soften the blow and being careful not to add insult to injury. Yet last night, thinking about it didn’t make it any worse, instead just putting things into perspective and you were seriously considering taking a break and going back home. “I don’t think either of us are in a state to talk about”, you watched him yawn as your eyelids felt heavy, the adrenalin rush from the argument clearly took a told on your quality of sleep.

“We can’t just keep brushing it under the carpet”, he said matter-of-factly as if he hadn’t been acting like a child 8 hours ago, he was hardly a martyr. “Why are you so desperate to talk now?” You impulsively blurted and then instantly regretted it. It sounded far more facetious than you intended whilst he lent against the kitchen island as you waited for his reaction. ‘Fucking hell’, you scolded yourself for being such a bitch, whilst your boyfriend stood opposite you - practically a ticking time bomb with the end result probably him throwing hands and storming off again, but on this occasion it was probably deserved after the snide comment.

“I can’t be under a roof with you knowing that your unhappy with me, something needs to change”, he took a sip of his tea and nodded calmly, changing the subject, not giving the reaction you expected but you certainly weren’t complaining. “Tell me, what is it specifically that you makes you unhappy because I can tell somethings wrong”, he made eye contact with you, with bags under his eyes and glaze behind them that told you he was upset too. “It’s the blowing hot and cold, staying out late, mood swings...”, your voice tailed off towards the end. You could’ve rambled on and listed a whole host of things that annoyed you but you didn’t want to overwhelm him given that sensitive conversations like that were few and far between.

“The team’s been struggling at the moment, you know I haven’t quite got the hang of a work - life balance yet. I try not to bring it all home to you, babe, I swear but sometimes I can’t help it”, he babbled on aimlessly for a bit but it was the nickname that softened you, making you relax in your seat and smile slightly. At least it had given you some clarity that it was nothing you’d done to upset him. “It’s fine, calm down we can work through it”, you reassured him as he started to get worked up about what he had and hadn’t been doing over the past few months, and whilst the situation hadn’t been ‘fine’ the fact he wasn’t totally oblivious to your feelings anyone made things better. The two of you sat in silence for a while, him sipping on his drink and you nibbling your toast which had gone cold by that point.

“You gonna eat that?” He asked, eyeing up the half eaten piece of toast on your plate. You just shook your head which he basically took as an invite to finish it for you. “I love you, you know that right?” He whispered and swallowed the toast before giving you a kiss on the side of your head, no doubt leaving toast crumbs there as well. You leaned your head on his shoulder for a few moments, enjoying the blissful silence between the two you that, for once, wasn’t awkward or tense.

“You know the first thing we can sort out?” You lifted your head and faced him, who nodded eagerly

“What?”

“Your morning breath, go and clean your teeth”, you held your nose mockingly and pointed to the stairs, telling his to go to the bathroom. He furrowed his eyebrows in dismay and kissed your lips despite your resistance although it hadn’t being particularly strong given you’d had very little physical contact, that you were oh-so familiar with, it was definitely something you’d missed.

~ tell me who you imagined it with, hope you enjoyed it 💕

[justauthoring]

To Be Loved (3/?)

Prompt: Perhaps, you understand Harry Potter better then anyone else. Perhaps, it’s why, when your eyes meet his for the first time, you feel an instant connection. Perhaps, it’s why, you love him.

Based off of: The Harry Potter Series Pairing: Harry Potter x Black/Tonks!Reader, slight Fred Weasley x Black/Tonks!Reader A/N: Thank you all for your patience last week and waiting for this chapter!! I’m trying to, honestly, get through the first and second movie as fast as possible cause i’m just so excited for three and on. So many ideas!!!

It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. The stories told by your family just simply didn’t do any of it justice.

Perched next to the Weasley twins, after they’d all but insisted, Ron sat next to you and Hermione and Harry across from you; you watched as Dumbledore announced the words ‘let the feast begin’ and more food then you could’ve ever imagined appeared before you. Just like that. Obviously done with magic, which honestly, shouldn’t surprise you, but nonetheless, it always did.

Both the twins were busy explaining what was good and what wasn’t, talking your ear off that you could barely even focused on trying to eat. No matter how much you adore the twins, it’s a blessing when Harry cuts in through the otherwise silence to ask, rather loudly; “Percy, who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrel?” Percy being another Weasley.

You follow his line of vision, instantly catching sight of the same teacher that seemed to have caught Harry’s eye. It’s no wonder why. Amongst the bright smiles and twinkling eyes of the other Professors, this man dressed in all black robes, seems all too... unhappy.

“Professor Snape,” Percy answers, “head of Slytherin House.”

“What’s he teach?”

“Potions.” Percy answers easily, but not without adding; “but everyone knows it’s the Dark Arts he fancies. Been after Quirrell’s job for years.”

“Well,” you decide to speak up, catching Harry’s eye, “he doesn’t seem too... nice, does he?” And even though Harry doesn’t say anything, you can tell by the look in his eyes, that he agrees.

“Hello! How are you?”

Nearly jumping out of your own seat, your eyes flicker to the midst of the table with a start, eyes widening at the sight of a... ghost. The ghost who rather rudely interrupted a otherwise nice dinner, turns to Ron, a smile on his face; “welcome to Gryffindor.

Just then, a flood of ghosts appear in the Great Hall, taking fun out of scaring the wits out of First years, reluctantly you have to admit, that includes yourself. You hear one of the girls at the Slytherin call one of them ‘The Blood Baron’ but you haven’t got a clue what that means.

“Hello, Sir Nicholas,” Percy greets the ghost at your table, “have a nice summer?”

Sir Nicholas pushes up so it’s no longer just his head sticking out the table; “dismal,” he answers gruffly, frowning heavily. “Once again, my request to join the Headless Hunt has been denied.” And he moves to leave the table, but not without Ron calling aloud;

“I know you! You’re Nearly Headless Nick!”

‘I prefer Sir Nicholas,” the man says sharply in response, “if you don’t mind.”

“’Nearly’ headless?” Hermione questions, voice sharp in disbelief, her eyes narrowing. “How can you be nearly headless?”

“Like this,” and with that, Sir Nicholas grabs the top of his head and pulls to the right, taking his head clean off his neck so it only hangs on by the tiniest sliver of skin. You wince in response, turning away sharply, not wanting to see that any longer then you have to.

“Well,” you sigh, meeting Hermione’s gaze, “that’s certainly a sight I didn’t need to see. Especially while eating,”

She only winces apologetically.

-

Percy led you down a long trail of corridors, including stairs that apparently move on their own and of their own accord.

You find yourself, though you’re not even sure how, continuously amazed as you walk down each corridor. Hermione talks excitedly beside you as you both pass the many different moving pictures, her actually managing to know a few of them from her hours spent on reading which she gladly gives you any information she can possibly spit out. Part of you tunes her out, if you’re being honest, but you think it’s endearing she’s so interested in the history of everything.

Then, Percy comes to a stop finally in front of a picture of an older lady, a little bit bigger, dressed in a puffy, decorated pink dress that be able to catch anyone’s eye. Not necessarily in the way one would want to catch someones eye, though.

She pauses a second, before saying sharply; “password?”

“Caput Draconis,” Percy says with ease.

With a nod of acknowledgement, the lady’s arm swings before herself, before the painting moves of it owns accord, the whole wall actually, pulling back to reveal a passageway behind it. Your eyes widen in excitement, turning to Hermione with a bright grin and twinkling eyes as you both hurriedly follow Percy through the doorway.

“Follow me, everyone. Keep up. Quickly, come on.”

The room he leads you all into is decorated in red everything, couches and chairs fill the room up, and a large fire place keeps in a nice warm temperature. It, like everything else in the castle, is magnificent and sparks a fire of conversation between all the first years, before Percy quickly tries to divert the attention back on him,

“Gather around here,” he calls sharply, “welcome to the Gryffindor common room. Boys’ dormitory is upstairs to the left,” he gestures to his left, “Girls, the same on your right,” then his right. “You’ll find all your belongings have already been brought up.”

With an excited smile Hermione’s way, one she matches almost nervously, you impatiently wait for Percy to finish his speech before grabbing tightly onto Hermione’s wrist and pulling her up the steps behind you. She follows behind you with a laugh, a bit shocked at the sudden movement, before the two of you find yourselves in a dorm-room. You instantly recognize your belongings, rushing to the bed, while Hermione follows close behind you.

Her stuff is on the bed next to yours.

“Looks like we’re roommates, then,” you grin at her, a small blush forming on her cheeks as she nods.

-

Your first morning of classes had certainly been interesting.

Professor McGonagall’s transfiguration class had gone well. It was simply just taking notes as she stated you wouldn’t actually be doing any physical magic for a while. Ron and Harry had managed to somehow, you’re not really sure how, arrive late to their very first class of the school year and had thought they’d gotten away without being caught. That is, until, the cat on Professor McGonagall’s desk had turned into, Professor McGonagall.

Potion’s class had proven to be less fun. You now knew why Professor Snape had rubbed you the wrong way at the feast because he was just horribly... mean. Your first observations had been all too correct and you found it hard to concentrate in his class without staring at him with disgust. Even more so when he’d called Harry out for not paying attention when you knew the boy had simply been writing down notes of what he was saying, not wanting to miss any of it.

Like any normal student would.

When you’d tried to defend the boy, Snape had turned his attention onto you and promptly gave you the same treatment as Harry. But, at least all the focus hadn’t only been on Harry anymore. That, you felt good about.

Now sat at lunch, you were desperately trying to block out the loud noises of Seamus practicing a spell on his goblet, to focus on the letter you were writing for Andromeda, Ted and Nymphadora if she managed to get a break from work and came home like she said she might be able to.

If not, you hoped you’d be able to see her Christmas.

If you were correct, mail was to be arriving soon, and knowing that Andromeda would’ve used the family owl, that gave you the opportunity to send a letter back. You were just dying to tell her and Ted everything.

Dear Andromeda and Ted,

I’ve been sorted into Gryffindor, like Uncle Remus and my father. I hope I’ve made them proud, and of course, I hope I’ve made you two proud as well.

Is Nymphadora home? If she is, would you pass on the message? 

I hope the both of you are doing well. I miss you both already, but i’m having a wonderful time here at Hogwarts. I’ve already made my first friend! Her name is Hermione Granger, and she knows everything about everything. She’s wonderfully smart, i’m not sure there’s a single thing she doesn’t know.

Fred and George have also been kind enough to help me figure things out. But I promise, I haven’t gotten into any trouble.

You choose not to mention the fact that you had, but you still felt you were in the right when it came to Professor Snape. If anything, you’d defended a fellow student.

I met a boy too. Remember the boy who hadn’t known how to get onto Platform nine-and-three-quarters? Well, his name is Harry Potter. Yes, the Harry Potter. Though, I don’t think he knows just what that means. Him and Ron have seemed to have gotten close. He’s quiet and a bit awkward, but super nice. 

Classes this morning went well. I still have more this afternoon.

Can’t wait to see you for Christmas. Looking forward to your reply back.

Love--.

A loud explosion pulls you from your writing. Jumping from your spot next to Hermione, you turn in the direction of where Seamus had been sitting, where the explosion had come from, only to see his eyebrows singed and smoke to be floating around the spot he’s sat.

Turning to Hermione, you both roll your eyes. Boys.

Love, Y/N Tonks.

Just as you finish signing your letter, a bustle of excitement floods the Great Hall. With a bright smile, marveling at how well the timing had been, you eye the many owls flying in through the windows, all having letters tied to their feet or dropping packages in front of students.

Your family owl, a great big barn owl, comes to a stop before you instead of simply just dropping your package. You take it from him with a smile, cooing at it, same as Hermione, opening the package to find some home-made sweets Ted had made for you (he always did love baking) and a small letter that read ‘we miss you!’,

Smiling brightly, you roll your own letter up, tying it around the owls feet with a string; “can you deliver this back to them for me?” You ask softly, giving a bit of your food to the owl and brushing it’s feathers back in a sign of affection. “Thank you, Morbet.”

He toots happily, flapping his wings with an air of excitement about him, before disappearing out of view.

“Hey look!” Dean Thomas calls aloud, pulling your attention towards him and the rest of the table. “Neville’s got a Remembrall.”

“I’ve read about those!” Hermione exclaims excitedly, “the smoke turns red when you’ve forgotten something.”

Just as Hermione finishes explaining, the smoke turns red.

Wincing, Neville frowns; “the only problem is, I can’t remember what I’ve forgotten.”

“Hey, Ron, look,” Harry calls, clearly only speaking to Ron, and with one look Hermione’s way, you both lean forward to listen. “Someone’s broken into Gringotts.” He then moves to quote the Daily Prophet directly; “‘Believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches... Gringotts goblins acknowledge the breach but insist nothing was taken. The vault in question, number seven-one-three, had been emptied earlier that same day.’ That’s odd,” Harry finishes, “that’s the vault Hagrid and I went to.”

Both Ron and Harry look at each other, before looking at you and Hermione, curious expressions upon all of your gazes.

-

When Professor McGonagall had caught Harry flying a broomstick, even though it’d been firmly prohibited for first years, you thought he was in trouble. Not that he’d be made seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

But, you figured you’d rather that then him get expelled or something.

Hermione, despite the ever so loyal rule-follower, thought it was amazing as well. Maybe even more than yourself. Though, you’re not exactly sure why and she won’t say anything other than ‘it’s practically in his blood!’ and she won’t explain anything further then that either. 

Sat beside her on the bench outside the school grounds, a bit of free time after class and before dinner, a book propped in your lap, you’re peacefully reading, not even paying attention to your surroundings when Hermione’s suddenly latching onto your wrist and yanking you up to your feet. It elicits a gasp of shock from your lips, quickly trying to catch your footing so you don’t fall flat on your face, her name leaving your lips in a cry of confusion, before you catch sight of the familiar heads of Harry and Ron.

“Go on,” you hear Ron call, “Quidditch is great. Best game there is, and you’ll be great too.”

Harry shakes his head, apprehensive. “But I've never even played Quidditch. What if I make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t make a fool of yourself,” Hermione cuts in, pulling both boys gazes on the two of you, curiously. “It’s in your blood.”

When they turn to you in question, you simply shake your head. 

“I’ve been trying to get her to tell me all afternoon.”

With a sigh, Hermione leads the three of you off, back into the castle and through a couple of halls before stopping in front of what looks like a trophy case. It’s for Quidditch, and engraved on the big, main trophy in the middle, is the name James Potter; Harry’s father. 

He was a seeker too.

Hmm, so it really was in his blood.

“Whoa,” Ron gasps, “Harry, you never told me your father was a Seeker too.”

You can tell by the look on Harry’s face, that he’d had no idea. You can’t help but think how would he? but you, of course, don’t say that aloud.

“I didn’t know...”

-

On your way back to the Gryffindor common room, frowning heavily when you hear Ron go on and on about how spooky and strange Hermione was, how she seemed to know more about Harry then he does (which he replies with “who doesn’t?”), you don’t make it very far before the stairs suddenly move.

You’re quick to grab onto the ledge, gasping out in response, the four of you turning to look at one another in shock and confusion.

“What’s happening?” Harry gasps.

You pause for a moment, before Percy’s words echo in your mind; “the staircases change, remember?”

Few seconds after you’ve finished explaining, the stair case stops in front of another door way, and the four of you are quick to get off.

“Let’s go this way.”

“Before the staircase moves again.”

You don’t argue, even if in the back of your mind you’re apprehensive given that you don’t know this section of the castle yet and it’s all too easy to get lost in such a big place. And you especially don’t say anything when no one else does, and Harry simply opens the door in front of you all, stepping through without a second thought of hesitation or doubt.

Even Hermione doesn’t say anything.

At least not at first.

The room you walk into is dark, nothing lighting it, and it’s covered in cobwebs and dust. Clearly, whatever room this is, no one has been in it or tried to upkeep it in a long while.

“Does anyone else feel like we shouldn’t be here?” Ron asks aloud, voice tinging in nerves.

“We’re not supposed to be here,” Hermione says simply, pulling your eyes on her with a blink of fear. “This is the third floor. It’s forbidden.”

Just then, a flame lights up next to you, causing you to take a step back.

“Let’s go,” Harry calls sharply, the four of you turn to walk back out the door, only to stop at the sight of a cat.

Not just any cat, though.

“That’s Filch’s cat!” You call out in a hissed whisper, eyes widening.

“Run!”

You don’t hesitate to listen. In a second, you turn, breaking out into a fast run, and trying to ignore the way your heart pounds fearfully against your chest every time one of the torches light up when the four of you run by them. You keep your focus on running and not getting caught.

Oh, if only Ted and Andromeda could see you now. You’d not only just be in big  trouble, they’d surely be in shock given that you’d never acted out before. Or really, gotten into any trouble.

“Quick!” Harry calls, turning slightly, “let’s hide through that door!”

You nod, meeting his gaze, but the second he reaches it, it won’t open. It’s locked.

Slamming the door handle, Harry calls out in frustration; “it’s locked!”

“That’s it,” Ron whimpers, “we’re done for!”

“Hermione!” You call, meeting her eyes and nodding. “You’re the best at spells!”

She nods, ignoring the wall Harry and Ron call after the both of you in confusion, stepping up to the door, whilst pulling out her wand. With incredibly grace you’re surprised a witch her age is able to use, she chants the spell ‘Alohomora’ and in the next second the familiar sound of the door unlocking echoes, allowing her to pull it open and the both of you to step through. 

“Get in!” You call to the boys adamantly.

Ron shuts the door behind him, turning to Hermione in disbelief; “Alohomora?”

“Standard Book of Spells, chapter seven,” she says with ease.

“If you read,” you quirk a brow at Ron, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’d know that.”

“I-I-! I read--!”

“Shh!” Harry calls firmly, “I think I hear him!”

A moment of silence echoes, and then, a breath of relief floods you when no sound of Filch is heard. He’s left.

“Filch is gone,” Hermione assures, stepping back from the door.

“He thinks this doors locked,” Ron calls out.

“It was locked,” you remind firmly.

“And for good reason.”

Both Harry’s words and the sight before you is enough to make you come to an abrupt stop. Your eyes widen as you eye the huge, three-headed dog sat before you. All three of them (three heads?) are fast asleep luckily, but for a moment you’re frozen with such fear of waking them up that your entire body grows stiff. 

However, as you stand there, you catch sight of something underneath them. It looks like a--

And then, one by one, the dogs wake up.

Letting out a scream, not a single one of you needs to tell the other to turn promptly and run out the door. The four of you use every last bit of your strength to slam it shut behind you, fighting against the dogs that desperately try to push their way out, before finally slamming it shut and promptly locking it.

The four of you don’t stop running until you reach the common room.

“What do they think they’re doing!” Ron cries, breathless, “keeping a thing like that locked up in the school?”

“You don’t use your eyes do you?” You call out to him, shaking your head. “Didn’t you see what it was standing on?”

“I wasn’t looking at it’s feet!” Ron argues in defense of himself, “I was preoccupied with its heads. Or maybe you didn’t notice. There were three!”

Hermione huffs; “it was standing on a trap door. Which means it wasn’t there by accident.” She comes to a stop by your dorm-room door, the two of you turning to face Harry and Ron who stand opposite of you. “It’s guarding something.”

“Guarding something?” Harry asks, baffled.

“That’s right,” she nods, “now, if you don’t mind, we’re going to bed...” she gestures to you firmly. “Before either of you come up with another idea to get us killed. Or worse, expelled.”

Honestly, personally, you would’ve flipped those two around.

Taking your hand in her own, Hermione doesn’t leave you any room to say anything else, slamming your dorm room shut behind the both of you. It’s silent as you make your way to your bed, both of you not wanting to wake anyone, but then also, not really sure what to say.

You don’t even really know what to think.

-

“It’s Leviosa, not Leviosar.”

Frowning at Ron’s words, you glance over at Hermione warily, frowning heavily.

“She’s a nightmare, honestly! No wonder she hasn’t got any friends.”

Your lips part in astonishment. Out of everyone, you never expected such cruel words like that to leave Ron’s lips. Sure he could be a bit brass at times and little temperamental, but he’d never been outright mean to anyone before. It pulls you into a fit of shock, so much so that you don’t notice Hermione quickly picking up the speed in her step, storming past Ron until it’s too late.

You rush to catch up to her, but she just ignores your desperate calls for her attention, wiping at her eyes.

“I think she heard you,” Harry mumbles after she’d run by.

“Obviously she heard you,” you hiss, pulling the boys attention on you as you glare at the two of them heavily. Dean and Seamus who’d been walking with the two quickly hurry off, not wanting to get in the middle of it, as you turn to Harry and Ron, specifically the latter, with a harsh glare. “Honestly, you don’t have to like her, but to make fun of her like that in front of everyone is just cruel, Ron.”

He gulps in response, wincing nervously.

“And just because she knows things doesn’t make her a nightmare. If you actually bothered to get to know her, you would know she’s incredibly kind and sweet. And,” you hiss, voice sharp, “she has got friends. She’s got me. Does that make me a nightmare too?”

Ron’s lips part, but he doesn’t say anything, Obviously, he doesn’t know what to say. Harry watches, shocked, blinking at you. You don’t catch the small bit of amazement in his eyes.

“Honestly, I expected more from you, Ron.”

Turning promptly before either of them can say anything, if they ever managed to actually be able to close their mouths and speak, you quickly rush off the way Hermione had gone, desperate to catch up to her.

-

Part 4?

TAGLIST: @storiesbystarlight - @scattered-mood - @tinymidgetsstuff - @itsfangirlmendes - @im-a-totally-random-person - @slytherinwriter618 - @bloodorangemoonlight - @subjecta13-thefangirl - @areallydrypie - @euphorictulip - @missmulti - @tinytommyshelby - @you-bleed-to-know-youre-alivee - @divergenttribute33qrunnerslytherin - @flaming-keys - @xsiredstyles - @silver-stilinski - @sweetheartliz07 - @bljndbeths - @justanotherfangirl2015 - @iilwdobyayy - @noxceleste - @gredandforges - @moonxxstxr - @sarablog10 - @schnapped - @officiallydarkgeek - @jovialcat123 - @justfangirling - @dubugf - @galacticstxrdust - @lovelyhufflepuff38 - @thequeenofpataos - @pieces-by-me - @kobachi-chan - @ezgithchaotic - @anscombecat - @depressed-teen-needs-her-coffee - @mcrvellouslystcrk - @yuptha-tsme - @euphoniumpets - @vxxn128 - @blisfvll - @stilesslove - @briargardens - @izzytheninja - @pepelachanel​ if you’d like to be tagged, just send me an ask!

[cobradoesmcyt]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27713702/chapters/67828802

Here it is! The good dadbur au fic! 

And as requested @thesmpisonfire here you go

(hi yes I’m adding this here so this who don’t want to read it on Ao3 can still read it so just keep reading and the same thing as the link will take you to will be there)

Fundy ran his hand over all the books that lay in the chest, all of which had once belonged to his father but that now was his. It was soon after his father, the former president of L’manberg Wilbur Soot Minecraft (though he rarely ever used the full name, much more preferring to simply just go by Wilbur Soot), had died but Fundy thought he might as well visit as soon as he could, even though watching his own dad die right in front of him would forever be imprinted into his mind.

He picked one up at random and when he turned it in his hand he saw it was his favorite childhood book, one his mom had written for him before she died, the cover a two part cluster of good and bad craftsmanship, his dad must have wanted in as well it would seem. Fundy gave a little chuckle as he opened the book, the old worn pages crinkling as he turned them. He held the book tight against himself, making sure as to not hurt it at all. He did want his future children to hear these stories after all, to know just how amazing of a writer his mom had really been. And she hadn’t just been that, she’d been an amazing story teller as well, her soft and soothing voice being something Fundy would never forget.

Contrary to the jokes shared around Sally was not actually a salmon, but instead a salmon hybrid, but since she hadn’t had a last name she had given herself a title instead. And she had been the perfect muse to Wilbur’s endless mind of music, the two often working together to make songs - him with the music and vocals and her with the words and sometimes singing as well. Fundy had always loved when the two sang together, the sound putting him to sleep in seconds. 

After she had died his dad made sure he was told of all the good his mom had done for him, and how he was so happy to have gotten the chance to love her before her death, because not only did he have some of the happiest times of his life he also got Fundy as well. And even though she was dead Fundy hadn’t felt like the world was going to end, because he knew she would always be with him - in his heart. His dad had told him that, promised him that she would always be with them, and his dad was never wrong about things like this.

Closing the book, Fundy placed it on a shelf to take back hom later, he then continued to search through his dad’s stuff. He found a lot of photos of a young Wilbur with his family, the same bright smile he always had around Fundy in these as well. Though Fundy smugly noted that his dad’s smile was bigger when it was towards him. He placed the photos in a little pile, he’d give them out to the rest of his family too. Though he kept one of them, a picture of his dad and Uncle Techno standing side by side with matching smirks - his dad’s a bit more wider than the other’s. It reminds him of back when Techno first started coming around, the little smile he would barely crack at him now meaning so much more to the fox hybrid after getting to know his Uncle better.

The last thing he pulled out was a photo album, the one that his parents had started oh so long ago. Fundy looked down at it with teary eyes, having long thought the book gone. So with a shaking hand he flipped to the first page, his mothers beaming face meeting him. The little text down at the bottom showed it to be a little under a year before he was born and his dad’s doddle revealed the picture to be taken after his mom had found out she was pregnant with him. Quickly he turned the next few pages, pictures of his mom and sometimes dad flying past, each page telling the story of his mom’s pregnancy. Finally he reached one that was different, it was of both his parents, a little bundle of green lovingly held between the two. They were clearly in a hospital, and Fundy remembers that blanket like he remembered his name. And the date only confirmed it more. 

October 10. His birthday. Looks like he’d been born now.

He didn’t have the motivation to go through the entire album right now, it was far too long for that, but he did look for his favorite picture. After a bit of quickly flashing through page after page he finally found it. The picture, to anyone who didn’t know the story behind it, would just assume it was a normal picture of a father holding his young son. But Fundy knew the truth, he knew the story. His mom had taken the photo, her happy laugh and proud smile just as much captured in the photo as everything else in it to him. He had just said his first words just before, but he hadn’t said mommy or daddy or anything of the like, no instead he’d said love - he believes it's because it was the word he heard the most growing up. His dad had loved telling him this, and Fundy had too.

With a watery sigh he closed the book and picked up all the other items, wanting to give out what he’d found whilst also avoiding the water works he knew would come if he continued to look through the album. Outside the room Dream, his lovely fiance, stood waiting. And together they left, the silence between the two a comfort to the fox hybrid.

“I’m going to go give my Uncle some old photos, to share with everyone else, you can go right ahead.” Dream staggered in his step, as if he wanted to interject, but with one look at his fiance's eyes he knew this was something he needed to do alone.

“Okay,” he mumbled softly, “I’ll go home and start dinner, hopefully it’ll be done by the time you're back. Take care okay?”

Fundy smiled wide at the masked man, “I will, Dream. See you at home.” And with a parting kiss the two split up, Dream to their shared home and Fundy to his Uncle Techno.

Finding Techno actually took faster than he’d thought since the older man was in the area of Pogtopia, and his red cape stood out in the green grass and forest. So he quickly jogged over, a small smile in his face as he held the photos close. The two met halfway, the elder having spotted the fox hybrid, and Fundy handed him the photos with a happy smile, “I found these when going through dad’s stuff, thought you might want these to share with the rest of the family.”   

The pinkett silently flipped through the pages, barely even acknowledging his nephew as his mind wandered with the pictures. But he quickly shook himself out of the state and smiled softly at Fundy, picking out one specific picture and showing it off to the fox, “I’d always wondered what happened to this picture. Heh, guess Wilbur really wasn’t lying when he said he’d take it to his grave, was he?” 

Fundy mutely nodded, a little too focused on the picture to pay attention. As was to be expected the picture was of his dad, but unlike in recent years all his foxy traits were out on full display. Tail and ears, which were perked and waging respectively, clearly showing off his happy mood. 

“Dad had told him, since he’d been so well behaved and hard working the past few months, that he’d finally be getting a guitar of his own. I snuck this photo in before he noticed what I had in my hands.” Techno explained, a fond glint in his eyes, “I thought he’d gotten rid of this years ago.” 

The piglin hybrid traced a claused finger over the frozen form of his brother's joy, a small smile tugging in his lips. He carefully tucked it and the rest of the pictures away and turned to ruffle Fundy’s hair, “Thank you for these, squirt, I’m sure dad and Tommy will love to see some of these.”

Fundy beamed up at his uncle, happy to have made the monoton man smile again. It was a little talent of his, to be able to make his uncle smile, one he hadn't grown out of. The two parted ways after that, though his uncle said his door would be open for Fundy to come talk to him if Techno ever allowed it (his way of saying he could come talk whenever). 

And as Fundy went to bed that night he couldn't help but feel tension that he hadn't even noticed before leaving him. Maybe thinking about the past wasn’t as painful as he’d believe it to be.

Perhaps it was a good time to go down memory lane from the start.

[orangeoctopi7]

A Negligible Price

I guess it’s becoming a tradition for me to add another chapter to A Minor Inconvenience every year for @stanuary . I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen. It’s just that the prompt “Sacrifice” got me thinking about this story and where I thought it could go, and then I got writing and I started coming up with ideas for how I could actually put a finish to this story. So yeah, hopefully it won’t be another year before I post chapter 4, but not promises!

Also, first time I’ve had to do this, but:

CONTENT WARNING: DISCUSSION OF SUICIDE/MARTYR COMPLEX AND SUIDICE ADJACENT THEMES.

* * *

Bill rushes to gather himself together again. Now that Sixer and his idiot brother have caught on, he knows they’ll probably be making a move against him soon. The time for lying in wait and keeping a low profile has passed. He’s been getting faster, better at finding the tiny flecks of gold scattered into the dark abyss below. 

Unfortunately that also means that he’s noticed that some missing pieces just never turn up. As an interdimensional being who’s existed in countless dimensions across innumerable timelines, Bill likes to think he knows himself pretty well now. What he’s made of, how much power he’s accumulated, what he’s capable of. And if he had to estimate now, which he does, he’d say he’s been reduced to maybe a third of his power. Roughly two thirds of him are missing. 

What happened to those missing pieces? Were they simply deleted by that memory eraser? Did he leave some of himself behind in that physical form he left to enter Stan’s mind in the Fearamid? Bill can only guess, but really, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. What matters is getting out of this moron’s brain and starting again on his path to a universe free of rules.

* * *

Stan recovered from his latest memory lapse quickly, despite the fact that it was the worst one he’d experienced since he sacrificed himself to the memory gun last summer. The experience had clearly put Ford on edge, and as much as he tried to bottle up his emotions and remain calm, Stan could practically feel the panic coming off him in waves. 

They were both relieved when they reached Spitsbergen. There was a hospital in Longyearbyen, where Ford insisted they stop to give Stan a check-up. Stan felt fine, but if it helped ease Ford’s nerves, then he could sit through a check-up.

Explaining Stan’s condition to the doctor was a struggle, considering English was not his strongest language. They definitely got across that Stan was experiencing memory problems, but the doctor seemed to be under the impression it had been caused by an injury to the head in an accident, rather than a purposeful exposure to a memory-erasing device. 

Eventually, Ford had lost his patience and just asked if they could use the CT or MRI machine themselves. The doctor spoke enough English to tell them that the nearest CT or MRI machine was in either Iceland or Russia.

The elder Pines twins left the hospital in low spirits. Ford kicked at little pebbles as they walked down the street.

“There’s a research facility in Ny-Ålesund. Perhaps we could sail up there and commandeer some equipment to rig up our own CT scan…”

“I think it’d be easier to just hop on a plane back to the States at this point.” Stan suggested.

“If we’re going to hop on a plane somewhere, it’ll be to Reykjavik, where we won’t have to pay an arm and a leg for any treatments.”

“Yeah, we’ll just have to wait half a year.” Stan rolled his eyes. “I don’t think they’re gonna take ‘revived demon in my head’ as an urgent need.”

“Probably not…” Ford admitted.

“And you’re sure you didn’t figure anything else out the last time you were pokin’ around in my head?”

Ford grit his teeth. The truth was, he was afraid what would happen if he tried to revisit that memory. The cold flames of the memory eraser had felt so real, even just revisiting it in Stan’s mind, and they seemed to be the trigger of his latest memory lapse. Would they have a similar effect within Ford’s own memory?

“Nothing I’ve been able to make sense of.”

Stan grit his teeth. “So what now? Just leave that jerk in my head?”

Ford sighed. “I want to do some more research into what we’ve learned so far. Perhaps a trip to the library will help me find some insight. But truthfully… I may have been too hasty with punching out Bill, when I encountered him. He’s a liar who can’t be trusted, but he’s also a braggart. If I’d just let him run his mouth a little longer, we may have learned something about what he’s up to.”

* * *

Longyearbyen’s library wasn’t any bigger than the public library in Gravity Falls, and had significantly fewer books relating to Bill and mind magic, but it did at least have access to several library databases that Ford couldn’t typically log into from the Stan’O’War II. (According to Fiddleford, these databases could be hacked into quite easily, but Ford didn’t have the time or the wherewithal to learn how) It would have to do for now. Ford took a seat at a computer, and with a little help from a librarian, he was soon scrolling through peer-reviewed articles from different archeologists and anthropologists and folklore experts and descendants of the Aztecs and Mayans debating who Xolotl was, what his role was in the Aztec religion, how much his lore changed from Pre- and Post- Colombian invasion, and so forth. 

What he’d learned so far was interesting, to say the least. The things that most people agreed upon was that Xolotl was a god of death, fire, and lightning. What caught Ford’s attention was the fact that they were also the god of twins and deformities. He glanced down at his twelve fingers, which rested awkwardly on the small keyboard meant for people with just ten. It seemed odd that Bill would call on this particular death god, when they seemed far more likely to be a patron to Stan and Ford. 

While Ford puzzled over this new information, Stan browsed the library, looking for something to entertain himself while he waited. Unsurprisingly, there weren’t a whole lot of English books in this Norwegian library. Luckily, it wasn’t long before he stumbled upon an extensive comics section. Even though he still couldn’t read most of them, the pictures were at least enough that he got the gist of what was going on.

 European comics were very different from American comics. They featured a lot less costumed superheroes punching bad guys and a lot more weird, quirky characters setting out on adventures and exploring the world. They also seemed to lean more heavily on comedy rather than drama. Stan decided he liked them.

He’d been looking at a story about some rich duck when he noticed he felt odd. He didn’t know how else to explain it other than to say that his brain felt itchy. The more he concentrated on it, the more it faded away, but when he went back to looking at the comic and got absorbed back into the story, it came back.

After almost an hour of the feeling coming and going, Stan decided he was not imagining the sensation. He stuffed a tissue into the comic as a bookmark and got up to see what Ford would have to say about it. Almost as soon as he laid eyes on his brother, a wave of anger washed over him. Just like the itchy brain feeling, it went away almost as soon as he stopped and thought about it, but it had been so strong, that he couldn’t deny it had happened.

“Hey.” Stan tapped his brother on the shoulder as the old researcher skimmed an article about why the Aztecs associated lightning with twins.

“Hmm?” Ford acknowledged him without looking away from the screen.

“Am I forgettin’ to be mad at you about somethin’?”

That got Ford to turn and look at him. “Are you having a memory lapse!?”

“I don’t think so, but just a second ago I looked over at you and I felt really mad all of a sudden. Can’t really think of a reason why, though. I’m just wondering if maybe the other day, when I had the big blank-out, maybe we missed somethin’?”

The old researcher’s face contorted with guilt. “You have ample reason to be mad at me. I didn’t stand up for you when dad kicked you out. I never reached out to you for over ten years. I expected you to drop everything and help me with my problems without any explanation. I refused to thank you for saving my life--”

“Yeah, no, none of that stuff.” Stan shook his head. “I remember all that stuff, and I’ve already forgiven you and junk. Mmmm… did you try to enchant the mop again and not let me remember it?” But even as he joked that the underlying reason must be the latest chapter in a minor argument, he knew that couldn’t be right. The sudden bloom of anger had been much more deep-seated and horrible than that. It had felt like… it had felt like Ford had ruined everything. 

To be fair, there had been a long period of Stan’s life when he had felt like Ford had ruined everything. But Stan was over that now, and this brief brush with anger had felt even more heated than that.

Ford gave him an appraising look. “Were there any other memories or emotions associated with this feeling?”

“Oh yeah, my brain was feelin’ itchy right before that.”

“Have… you been using shampoo?” Ford asked, unsure of what to do with this information.

“Not my scalp, genius, like the actual thinking part of my brain!”

“... I can’t even begin to guess what that means.”

“Ugh, I don’t know how else to describe it, ok? It’s like somethin’ was squirmin’ around in my mind!”

The brothers wore twin expressions of realization as the words left Stan’s mouth. 

“We need to get back to the boat.” Ford stood from the computer desk abruptly.

“Yep.” Stan set the comic he’d been reading down on the desk, not even bothering to remove his improvised bookmark. 

* * *

Bill throws his hands up and roars in frustration. He can’t seem to take control, even when the moron’s mind is zoning out, losing himself in some stupid comic book. He’s already in the mind! He’s been here for months! He knows his way around here. So why isn’t it working? Is it because he never made a deal with this guy? That shouldn’t matter! The last thing they did before the whole memory gun thing was shake hands! 

There's no time to waste complaining, though. Sixer will be poking around here any minute. Bill needs a plan. Before, he'd spent millions of years in the Nightmare Realm planning. Now he's making everything up as he goes.

It's clear that Bill can't just take control of Stan like he'd been counting on. But do the other two know that? He might still be able to use that to his advantage.

If Bill is going to trick these losers and get out of here, he needs to play his opponents right. Luckily, he's got years of experience fighting against Sixer. It's the Big Mackerel that he worries about. 

Before, Bill hadn't paid much attention to Stan. He thought he understood what made the simple con man tick. But then, in the end, he found he didn't understand at all. Even after months of being trapped in his mindscape, Stan is very much still a mystery to Bill.

But there is one thing about Stan that Bill does understand.

He’s willing to sacrifice himself for his family.

* * *

Once they were back aboard the Stan’O’War II, Stan allowed himself to relax, just a little. At least here his surroundings were familiar, and the only person he had to worry about was his own brother.

Under normal circumstances, “the only person he had to worry about” meant he didn’t have to look over his shoulder for law enforcement or old criminals who might recognize Stan from his drifter days. 

Today “the only person he had to worry about” meant the only person he could possibly endanger if Bill was able to take control of him. Ford was the last person Stan wanted to put in danger, but he also had to admit, his brother knew more about the demon than any other living being on the planet. 

Stan may have been able to relax a tiny fraction once they were back aboard their boat, but not Ford. Ford was in full-blown panic mode.

He frantically searched around the storage room for something, anything, that could help protect his brother from Bill. Unfortunately, they hadn’t thought to bring unicorn hair or moonstones on their voyage. He did have titanium, but he wasn’t confident enough in his emergency medical knowledge to perform cranial surgery on his own, and he doubted they’d be able to find a doctor crooked enough to do it for them. Currently, his best idea was to build an updated version of Project Mentem, but that would take time. Time he wasn’t sure Stan had.

“I can re-enter your mindscape and shatter him again.” Ford decided, pulling out the candles again. “That should at least buy you a few days.”

“Ok.” Stan nodded. He’d definitely prefer to know Bill was shattered again, and not moving around in his brain. “But it’s not like he’s doing anything right now.”

“He’s probably trying to get us to lower our guard.” Ford assumed. “I’ll need to tie you up. He usually makes his move while his victim is asleep.”

“If I need to fall asleep for your spell while tied up, we’re gonna be waitin’ a long time.” Stan warned. “I dunno if I could even fall asleep right now if I had the world’s most comfortable bed.”

“Fair point.” Ford nodded. “I may have to drug you.”

“You gotta be kidding me!” It was abundantly clear that Ford was not kidding in the slightest.

“Would you rather be used as his puppet!?” The old researcher shouted. The outburst rang in the air for a few seconds while Ford tried to steady his breathing. “Stan I… I’m sorry, I just--”

“It’s ok.” Stan pulled him into a hug and tried his best to calm his brother down. “I know you’re just scared.”

“I’m not scared for myself.” Ford explained in a small voice. “I’m scared for you. Waking up to find that you’ve hurt someone, it’s-- I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, least of all you--”

“Stanford, look at me. We’re not gonna let that happen. What if we do it while I’m awake, like we did with the memory before?”

Ford nodded meekly. “That… that could work.”

“You can still tie me up if that makes you feel better.”

The old researcher bit his lip. “...It shouldn't be necessary...”

“Ford.”

“...But it probably would ease some of my fears, yes.” he admitted.

“That’s what I thought. I’ll go get the rope.”

Still unwilling to let his brother out of his sight, Ford followed Stan up to the deck while he retrieved said rope. Once they were back below deck, he wrapped Stan tightly in a large blanket before sitting him down on a chair and tying him up, to ensure he was as comfortable as possible while still restricting his movement.

“How do you feel?” Ford asked as he lit the candles.

“Like I’m about to be shipped back to Oregon in the mail.”

“And Bill…?”

“I haven’t felt anything else from him since we left the library.”

The lack of activity should have reassured Ford, but instead it just added to his general unease. At least he was able to compose himself enough to perform the incantation.

Just as last time, after a flash of light, he found himself on the deck of Stan’s mindscape, with Stan himself standing beside him. This time, though, Bill was floating there, waiting for them.

“I KNEW YOU’D BE BACK HERE AFTER I GOT YOUR ATTENTION IN THE LIBRARY!” The demon taunted. “OH, AND LOOK. STANO HERE EVEN MADE A MENTAL CONSTRUCT OF HIMSELF WITHIN HIS OWN MIND JUST SO YOU WOULDN’T HAVE TO FACE ME ALONE! HOW CUTE!” He prodded Stan in the stomach like he was the Pillsbury Doughboy.

“Back off, bucko!” Stan threatened. “We’re here to break your whole face!”

“WHAT, YOU COULDN’T WAIT UNTIL TONIGHT TO DO IT IN YOUR DREAMS LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO?” Bill asked, voice dripping with false innocence. 

“We’re not able to risk the chance of you parading about in Stanley’s body.” Ford growled.

“HA! YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN ANYONE, FORDSY, I ONLY DO THAT TO STUBBORN KNOW-IT-ALLS WHO WON’T WORK WITH ME WILLINGLY.”

“If you think I’m gonna work with you willingly, then you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought.” Stan grunted.

“HEAR ME OUT, MAC! WE BOTH WANT THE SAME THING HERE! ME, OUT OF YOUR SAD PATHETIC MIND!”

“You can’t leave!?” Ford asked in surprise.

“WHAT, YOU THINK I ENJOY SPENDING TIME IN THIS BOZO’S MIND? YOU THINK I WAS PLOTTING MY REVENGE?”

“Honestly, yes.”

Bill gave a long, mocking laugh. “AHAHAHAHAHA! YOU REALLY THINK I CARE ABOUT A COUPLE OF INSIGNIFICANT FLESH SACKS LIKE YOU?”

“We’re the insignificant flesh sacks who killed you!” Stan reminded him.

“WELL, YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY. THE BEST REVENGE IS LIVING WELL.”

The brothers exchanged a suspicious glance. They highly doubted Bill actually believed that adage.

“BUT I CAN’T EXACTLY LIVE WELL TRAPPED IN YOUR MINDSCAPE. I MIGHT GET BORED AND DECIDE THE BEST REVENGE IS KILLING YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY WITH YOUR OWN HANDS.”

Ah yes, that was more along the lines of what they expected from Bill.

“So you’re saying you’ll just let bygones be bygones if I cooperate with you?” Stan asked skeptically. 

“WE’LL GO OUR SEPARATE WAYS, NEVER TO MEET AGAIN!”

“And what are you planning on doing once you’re free?” Ford asked coldly.

“NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, SIXER.” The demon waved him off. “NOW ARE YOU GONNA HELP ME OUT OF HERE OR NOT? THE SOONER THE BETTER. YOU TWO AREN’T GETTING ANY FURTHER AWAY FROM THE AVERAGE LIFE EXPECTANCY OF A HUMAN MALE, AND FISH FACE HERE DOESN'T EXACTLY TAKE GOOD CARE OF HIS BODY.”

“Hey!” Stan shouted indignantly.

“Why should Stan’s life expectancy factor into this?” Ford asked.

“HMMM? OH, NO REASON.” Bill said evasively. “I’M JUST, Y’KNOW, IN A HURRY.”

“You’re an immortal, extradimensional being. You’ve been trying to find a way out of the nightmare realm since before multicellular life developed on this planet. If you’re so sure we’re close to the end of our lives, why not wait until we’re out of the way? You must realize we’ll try and stop you from starting Weirdmaggedon again!” Ford reasoned.

“WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT STARTING WEIRDMAGGEDON AGAIN?” Bill denied. “AND MAYBE AFTER A BILLION YEARS, I’M TIRED OF WAITING!”

“Unless you aren’t immortal any more.” the old researcher concluded.

“YOU’VE SEEN FOR YOURSELF, FORDSY, EVERY TIME YOU OR YOUR IDIOT BROTHER SHATTER ME, I PULL MYSELF BACK TOGETHER.”

“Immortal in the mind, perhaps. But what happens when the mind you’re occupying finally dies?”

“ALRIGHT, YOU FIGURED IT OUT!” Bill sneered. “I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN A GENIUS LIKE YOU WOULD. YEAH, MY LIFE’S TIED TO THE BIG MACKEREL’S NOW. SO WHAT? YOU GONNA KILL YOUR BROTHER JUST TO GET RID OF ME?”

“Of course not!” Ford barked.

“Hey, I’d be more than happy to take you down with me if it meant making sure you never hurt anyone else ever again!” Stan challenged the demon.

Ford stared at his brother with wide eyes. “Stanley, no!”

“Hey, relax, I’m not talkin’ suicide or anything.” Stan assured him. “But he’s right about one thing. I’m not gonna live forever.”

I’ll only do it if I have to. A stray thought cawed overhead.

Stan cussed under his breath as Ford gaped at him with a mix of alarm and pity.

“I’m not gonna take it back.” Stan insisted after a moment. “If that’s what it comes down to, to keep him from hurtin’ you or the kids, then I’m taking him down with me.”

Ford placed his hands firmly on Stan’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eye with all the intensity he could muster. “We won’t let that happen!” 

Bill laughed at them cruelly. “RIGHT, CUZ YOU’VE HAD SO MUCH SUCCESS STOPPING ME IN THE PAST.”

“I’ll find some other way!” Ford insisted.

“I’M SURE YOU COULD, WITH TIME.” Bill agreed. “BUT I’M GONNA STRANGLE YOU IN YOUR SLEEP BEFORE THEN!”

Not if I strangle myself first! Another one of Stan’s stray thoughts called.

Ford gave his brother a frustrated shake. “No! Stanley, I swear to you, that won’t be necessary!”

“Alright, that’s it. We’re not havin’ this conversation in my brain, where you can hear all my unprocessed thoughts.” Stan decided.

Suddenly, Ford’s form and everything around them flickered and began to fade to white. Stan and Bill were the only ones who remained solid and whole. Stan was waking up? But he’d never been asleep before the spell in the first place!

“Don’t you try any funny business!” Stan pointed an accusing finger at Bill. “I’m coming back to shatter you into a million smaller pieces as soon as I fall asleep tonight!”

[antoniostrong]

Week 6 Blog Post

Chapters 4 and 5 of the Social Organization helped me to better understand the importance of community collaboration and having purpose also some very key principles that contribute to efficient online community building. Community building will help with a growing businesses overall presence. Building a strong community will help to give people a reason to want to be apart of your online community and be more interactive. A community also has to be aware of the goals that are promised and planned to achieve so something to work FOR is established. This is why the No/go mindset should be adapted in business as explained in chapter 5. My interpretation of this mindset is to keep the bigger picture in mind while also acknowledging where you stand today and how you plan to proceed to grow then actually committing to your project or goals. Change is constant and independent but growth is a process that is dependent on your mindset. Think of a plant, A plant can not grow if you don’t tend to it but it will always change and whittle away if no effort is given to it. Your goals and projects should be seen as a delicate little plant that takes effort to grow.

After finishing Module 4 i have gained a lot of insight that i had not previously had in regards to building a community as well as tips to succeed. These steps can directly apply to my client as they effectively lay out a guide on how to use social media to optimize your community outlook. It is important to pay attention to the engagement that you receive on posts on apps such as twitter and instagram. Also something that stuck with me is finding the right times to post things and how that varies from each social media you decide to use. The time of day matters because you want your post to be seen by as many people as possible and this is helpful to gain more of a presence

Works Cited:

https://www.thecoachingtoolscompany.com/the-grow-model-explained-for-coaches-questions-tips-more/

Bradley, Anthony J., and Mark P. McDonald. The Social Organization: How to Use Social Media to Tap the Collective Genius of Your Customers and Employees, Harvard Business Review, Boston, MA, 2011, pp. 39-76.

“Social Content Marketing.” Hootsuite, https://education.hootsuite.com/courses/take/social-marketing-course/downloads/2581004-chapter-3-overview

[occasionaltouhou]

[ran voice] it’s not illegal if they don’t catch you

Yakumo Yukari had shown up that morning unannounced and declared that she would be staying over for a few days.

It was hardly unusual for her to do that; and at this point, Hakugyokurou had a guest bedroom permanently reserved for her, so it was simply a matter of Youmu clearing out the dust and moving all her bags into the room. More than once, Youmu had wondered why Yukari didn’t simply use her abilities to immediately tailor the room to her liking, but she assumed that it would be a needless waste of energy when Youmu was right there.

Still, it was mid-afternoon when she returned to the main room to announce that her work was done.

Yakumo Ran, the gap youkai’s shikigami, was dutifully pouring tea for Yukari and Yuyuko. Youmu wondered if Ran had the same kinds of thoughts that she did about Yukari’s abilities, then decided against it; even ignoring the shikigami’s programming, she was far too diligent to have any such thoughts about her master.

As she made her announcement, Yukari grinned one of her catlike smiles, the kind that you could never be sure what they really meant, and remarked, cheerfully, “Finishing that early means you might be able to take Youmu on the shopping trip with you, Ran.”

Ran glanced at her, but said nothing, so Yukari continued.

“We’ll need a lot of food this time. I’m planning on staying for at least a week, if not longer. And we might have some events, too~! Not that it isn’t lovely to just spend time in your company, Yuyuko dearest, but it’s important to keep things interesting, isn’t it~?”

“Of course, of course,” replied Yuyuko, drinking her tea and smiling to herself. “Maybe we could invite the Prismrivers over… get an exclusive performance from them.”

“Those ghosts with their music to sway the listeners’ hearts, hmm~? Oh, that would be very interesting to see…”

Youmu, seemingly forgotten after her entrance, began to turn around, but Yukari’s voice interrupted her mid-step.

“So, Ran, you should take Youmu now, hmm? After all, we might even be able to get them tonight, and we wouldn’t want to be short on food.”

“Of course not, Lady Yukari. I’ll head out immediately.”

“Make sure to get everything on the list, Ran~ I won’t take any excuses this time.”

“Of course, Lady Yukari.”

Ran sighed, almost imperceptibly; the kind of sigh that only the long-suffering servant could identify. Youmu would have glanced at her in surprise, but she was still barely keeping up with the conversation as it was; any conversation between Yuyuko and Yukari tended to give her a headache.

So instead she followed Ran outside, still dressed in her somewhat dusty outfit, and watched as the kitsune stood in Hakugyokurou’s courtyard and began to make gestures in the air, gestures that left orange trails of flame that began to take on their own shape, a writhing, blazing golden symbol floating in the air.

“Wh-where are we going?” asked Youmu.

Ran glanced down at her, but didn’t cease in her casting. “Outside.” Then, she sighed again. “Lady Yukari always overdoes it when she comes here, even taking into account Lady Yuyuko’s appetite… and there’s only one place to get all the food we need.”

Youmu supposed that was true; every time that Yukari came over, they inevitably threw a party that involved dozens of dishes she’d never seen before. She considered herself lucky that it was Ran, rather than her, who’d had to manage the kitchen in preparing them.

Then the actual response to her question caught up with her thoughts.

“Outside?” repeated Youmu. “Like… Outside outside?”

Ran nodded, and made a final gesture. The seal began to spin, and as it spun, the world around them was swept away, and another one took its place; a world of cold white lighting and tiled floors, and seemingly endless metal rows filled with food.

Ran had changed in appearance, too; her indigo tabard had become an indigo jacket, whilst her white dress had become a white shirt and ankle-length white pants. Her ears and tails, too, had vanished… and yet, there was still the illusory impression of a pale golden haze around her; that something was there, and it simply wasn’t visible.

But before she could think any longer, Ran was already walking off quickly, taking a list from a pocket she hadn’t had a moment ago and grabbing something that resembled a wheelbarrow made of thin pieces of metal. By the time Youmu had begun to collect herself, the kitsune had already begun to remove things from the shelves and put them into the odd wheelbarrow.

As she went, Ran meticulously ticked each item off the list, but even as she did, she seemed to be putting things in without ticking them off. And normally, Youmu would have asked, but this strange, bright world was overwhelming her with other things to pay attention to. As she walked next to Ran, she took a small metal can off one of the shelves and looked at it. Its labelling was written in a language she didn’t recognise, but there were pictures of tomatoes on it, so she supposed it must be full of tomatoes. Still holding the can of tomatoes, she followed after Ran once more.

“Where are we?” she asked, as they turned into another corridor lined with cans.

Ran hesitated for a moment. “It’s… somewhere in America,” she replied. “It’s just a supermarket. Lady Yukari likes Western food, and they have a lot of it here, so it saves me multiple trips.”

Youmu nodded, then was silent for a moment. “What’s a supermarket?”

“It’s like a market, but bigger.”

Youmu nodded again. “And they have lots of these in America?”

“Quite a lot, yes.”

Ran went back to silently filling the wheelbarrow, and then another thought occurred to Youmu.

“Am I allowed to be out here?”

Ran glanced down at her, and smiled. “Allowed?” she repeated. “There’s no rule preventing youkai from leaving Gensokyo, it’s merely risky. In Gensokyo, our existences are secure; outside of it, we’re at the mercy of human belief. That’s why I placed us under an enchantment, even though there’s no-one around.”

“Are there normally more people…?”

“Of course. But it’s early in the morning over here, and the workers who should be filling the shelves have all decided to take a break.” Ran smiled to herself, and something in her smile was more Yukari-like than one would expect; a clever, sharp kind of smile, almost bordering on cruel. “The cameras won’t see us, and even if someone does happen across us, they’ll just think we’re meant to be here. Humans are so easy to manipulate… they only want to see what they expect to see, so if you give to them, they’ll give you no trouble at all~”

“M-miss Ran…?”

Ran glanced back down at her in surprise. “My apologies. I usually do these trips on my own, so I’m used to talking to myself… And you’re half-human, yourself, of course. Although, you aren’t so vulnerable to illusions as these ones are.”

“Mhmm…” There was another silence, and then, “Miss Ran, why do you serve Lady Yukari?”

“Why I chose to become her shikigami, you mean?”

Youmu nodded, and for the first time, Ran stopped moving the now-overstuffed wheelbarrow.

And then she grinned, and this time it truly was a sharp grin, with sharp teeth, and glittering golden eyes.

“When a kitsune has nine tails, she’s become truly powerful -- but she’s also reached the limits of her ability. Lady Yukari offered me to go beyond those limits, and I accepted, without hesitating. Now, let me ask you -- why do you serve your Lady Yuyuko?”

Youmu opened her mouth to reply, and then frowned to herself. Ran took up the handles of the shopping wheelbarrow and resumed walking.

She supposed it had been a rude question to ask, Youmu thought, and she should have expected that kind of answer, but she’d never really thought about it before. Serving Yuyuko was simply what the Konpaku family did; she’d never had to think of a reason for it.

For the last few minutes of the journey there was silence, until they returned to the slightly-more-open space where they had initially appeared, and Ran began to cast a blazing symbol in the air once more.

“Lady Ran?”

“Yes?”

“Is it alright… if I don’t have an answer?”

Ran raised an eyebrow. “I think you do have an answer, though. You just might not recognise it for what it is.”

Youmu looked blank for a moment, and Ran smiled; not her fierce smile from earlier, but a calmer, gentler one. “I confess… I lied a little bit, earlier. That’s why I chose to become Lady Yukari’s shikigami, certainly, but that’s not why I stayed. And the truth is, she’s a difficult employer… she leaves me with a lot of work, and is rarely ever grateful. Even with the power she offers, I could simply refuse to take it, and leave…”

The mark was almost complete once more.

“But the truth is, it’s interesting to follow her. And it’s fun, in its own way. And what about you, Youmu? Do you have fun doing what you do?”

Youmu thought for a moment about the work she put in around Lady Yuyuko’s home, work which was rarely acknowledged beyond an offhand comment. Then she thought about the parties and events she accompanied her to, and invariably had to clean up after, and often had to put up with teasing during.

And yet--

Whilst she was having them, she was certainly having fun, right? Fun she wouldn’t have been able to have, with people she wouldn’t have been able to meet, in places she wouldn’t have been able to go, if she weren’t Lady Yuyuko’s attendant.

Indeed, why had she even hesitated?

“Of course I do!”

Ran grinned again, a smile that was washed away with the rest of the world as that stark white world was replaced with the cool shades of the Netherworld’s evening.

The wheelbarrow had somehow become an immense sack which Ran held over her shoulder effortlessly as she strolled back into Hakugyokurou; then, she unfurled it, and Yukari immediately began to critically examine the pile of food.

After a moment, she nodded. “This should be satisfactory. As usual, excellent service, Ran.”

“Of course, Lady Yukari. And Miss Youmu’s assistance was greatly appreciated.”

“I’m sure it was~” replied Yukari in a singsong voice.

“Of course it was, Yukari,” said Yuyuko, nudging her with her shoulder and smiling brightly. “Youmu’s extremely capable, so I’m sure she did a fantastic job, as always!”

And somehow that made all of it worth it.