#( . remember you are not obligated to do this!

[freyakitten]

As someone who does payroll and paperwork for a living: shit you don't tell me is shit I don't have to remember I have to keep private. I do not need to know so I don't want to know, because knowing imposes obligations on me as a holder of that knowledge. If I need to know, then I want to know - I need to know about an accommodation so I can document it and help protect your right to have it, I don't need to know why. I need to know what type of leave you're asking for so I can take it from the right bucket (and grant you access to special occasion buckets like bereavement leave) but beyond the bare minimum of documentation, I do not need to know.

Hey here is your friendly reminder to not tell your nice boss stuff.

I’m at the executive management level for my very small company and I have 4 people who report directly to me. I am a nice boss. I’m friendly with my employees, I treat them like professional adults, I actively try to create a positive work environment, and I mentor them and make sure they’re advancing in their careers. I do my best to shield them from the rest of management doing stupid shit. My employees like working for me.

The other day one of my employees came to ask if she could change her hours on Mondays. I said yes immediately because it’s helpful for me to know when she’s here and when she’s not, but as long as she gets her work done I don’t care when and where she does it. She then proceeded to tell me that it was so she could attend therapy and like … I will never use this information but … as a general rule don’t fucking do that.

Do not tell your employer shit about your mental or physical health except for the bare minimum needed to request a reasonable accommodation. Even your nice boss can fire you, even your nice boss can unfairly change your working conditions, and even your nice boss at some point is probably going to face pressure from their superiors.

I’m not saying don’t trust your boss with anything ever. I’m just saying that anytime you are in the workplace you need to keep your private information private. You can still have a good relationship with your boss. Your workplace can still be pleasant. But if it ever feels like disclosing private information is required in order to have a good relationship with your boss, please see that as a red flag.

[l-artemisia-del-secolo]

Concept #61

Rio had to take you. It was never choice. Only obligation. She never cared, she never thought, she never wondered. It was simple.

You sacrificed your life fighting Thanos. Part of the Avengers, your mission was larger than life.

You were calm, you were greeting her like an old friend.

"Why did you do this?" Rio couldn't help but wonder. Rarely she saw selfless people. Rarely she was accepted as an equel.

"it was the right thing to do."

You didn't give it a second thought. It was never a choice for you.

You were smiling. You were not scared.

"they won't remember you. There will be no glory, no eulogy." Rio levitated closer.

"I don't need all that."

"In the grand sceme of things what you did is just dust in the wind."

You shrugged. You didn't want to prove anything. You didn't want to explain. Why did death even care?

"you have taken thousands of heroes."

"Yes. But at the end not many remained noble."

Rio was trying to understand. Why you didn't plea or bargain. Why you were offering warmth, an embrace?

"I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be."

Yes, you were supposed to be afraid. Where was the grimace of fear and disgust. Maybe she could talk to you? Maybe she could spend some time with you? A long time ago Rio was curious, people for her were more than just faceless creatures.

"Where are we going?" you followed her through the portal.

"to my realm. I want to know."

"what?"

"everything."

[qqueenofhades]

what are your thoughts on writing/calling members of Congress and voicing concerns? Are any more responsive than others? Are there any conservative/moderates at least willing to listen? I feel so helpless.

I will say that almost no one takes the initiative to contact their congresspeople, so you will be ahead of the curve by doing so at all. You will reach an intern whose job it is to collect these comments, and they will say "thank you for calling X's office" and that will be it. You can also email, though with the phone you will be sure of talking to someone. Again, people don't often do this, so it always helps to remind the congresscritters that there are real people out there paying attention.

That said: you are limited in who you can contact, i.e. those who directly represent you and therefore you are their constituent. I mean, you can always call Mitch McConnell and tell his intern that he's a bag of dicks, but if you don't live in Kentucky (and lbr, even if you do), he has no obligation to care about that at all. If you're lucky enough to live in a swing district, you can definitely get the most bang for your buck out of contacting your congressperson, but even in safe blue or safe red districts, it's worth doing anyway.

Locate which US House congressional district you live in and who your US senators are, but also remember that a lot of the bad shit that happened over the last 4 years even while Biden was in office was driven by state and local legislatures. Contact your state senators, your governor, your state House-- hell, even your city council. They are the ones who will be making decisions that directly affect you and say, whether or not a particularly heinous Trump policy gets implemented without a fight. Decisions are made by those who show up, and there has never been a better time to get tf off the echo chamber Internet and do real work in your community. So yeah.

[pedge-page]

aww imagine when ellie is a little older and she has one of those doctor kit toys, and joel gets a cut (or maybe a bruise or something like that) and ellies like "it's okay daddy i'll help you 🥺" and she runs with her little kit and puts on the stethoscope and does a little "check up" and takes his blood pressure and checks his temperature, and then she asks where his boo boo is 😭 and then she gives it a little kiss (bc thats what joel and reader do) and she's like "all better daddy :)" 😭😭😭 please that would send me into a coma that is too cute

notes: oh my god this was so adorable to think about, thank you so much for the baby fever.... I ran a little further with this one based off this ask!

Joel Dealing with Wife: Doctor Ellie

- - - -

Joel’s caught on to something pretty big here. His ever growing littler girl Ellie is quite the caretaker….of him especially. All he tolerated under you and Sarah finally met its match when Ellie quietly entered the world.

He started to realize it after she would burst into tears each time he’d trip on Sarah’s toys, or grunted at your shoulder slaps. But she only ever showed worry when it was him getting hurt.

And he couldn’t get enough of it. Okay sure, its wrong to make your kid worry about things they don’t understand isn’t quite worth stressing over, but he can’t help but fall into a giddy awe spell of greed seeing just how bent out she gets when she thinks he’s hurt. It started with big hugs for long minutes. Then she decided she needed to practice real medicine. The amount of bandaids this family has gone through despite no real injury is astounding to his wallet. 

But it’s commendable. She so carefully puts her warm hands over his forehead whenever he stubs his toe, or checks his pulse when he’s eaten something too hot. Doctor Ellie is always in the house, and ready to assist.

And maybe Daddy… goes a little too out of his way to bring her out.

Joel had just rammed a large plank of wood into his abdomen, not carefully checking its length before swinging it around as if he were still in his twenties. “Ugh--damnit!” He groans, clutching his side. The throb lasted for just a moment before dulling, and he was about to carry on his business when—

“DADDY!!!!” Ellie wails, followed by the patterpatterpatter of her little feet running as fast as they can take him towards his aid.

She’s etched with concern over her chunky face, grasping on her tip toes for his hands. “Daddy okay?” She asks with her high pitched, sweetie voice that gets his soft spot racing.

“Yea—No. No baby…I think—“ he clutches his side, as if remembering the near fatal accident he just suffered. “Uuughh---oh Ellie…I’m hurt. I’m hurt real bad.” He bends forward, one hand over his abdomen while the other covers his face. (He peeks through one squinted eye to see her reaction).

She gasps. “It’s okay daddy! I help make it better!”

She grasps his finger with her entire hand and leads him towards the living room. “Moo!” She commands to Spoon. “Amboolance! WEE WOO WEE!!” She waves her hands around to clear the way of the invisible traffic as Joel followed, half squatted and stiffly wobbling to match her short stature.

She quickly tosses a blanket on the carpet, pointing for Joel to lie down. He obliges, groaning more so from the cracks in his back and knee instead of the fake pain he’s been dishing out.

He watches as she digs frantically through the bin of various toys before retrieving her mobile hospital toy kit. With the stethoscope thrown on her waist (it’s for kids 8 and up and she isn’t quite the size yet), she puts the rounded part over Joel’s stomach. Then she presses her head on his injury as well, causing him to let out an oof and chuckle as she listens futally for his heartbeat. 

“I nee take look.”

She rolls up his shirt a few inches to uncover the invisible wound. 

“How bad is it, doc?” Joel pleas in dramatic desperation.

She tilts her head to the side, closing one eye with her palm before shaking her head.

“Nee sur—Sur gee.”

Joel puts together that’s surgery, and he’s starting to wonder where she’s learning all this hospital stuff….

She begins rummaging around for her other toys before announcing “Knife!”

Joel’s head sits right up, eyes wide in Father-panic mode that she may have gotten her hands on an actual—

She instead pulls her yellow and green kids-cooking toy plastic knife that is meant to part velcroed plastic vegetables, and realistically couldn’t even slice through two strands of hair. He lets out a sigh, leaning back and letting her continue with her critical patient.

“Snack time!”

Of course you just had to interrupt their special Daddy-daughter only playtime with fucking snack ti—oh is that apple slices and peanut butter?

Ellie drops everything, sits on her butt almost like a dog and awaits patiently for her snack. Conveniently Spoon has also come to sit automatically next to her, if the dog-analogy wasn’t evident enough.

“Interrupting surgery, babe,” Joel hums. 

“Surgery can wait after snack.”

Ellie wiggles her feet as you hold out a slice towards her mouth for her to bite and keep her hands clean. The room is silent minus the content, unhurried crunching of apple sizes.

“Okay baby, continue your surgery. What part are we at?” You ask, sucking a slice into your mouth as you also dip one into Joel’s open trap, giggling as he swallows it like an arcade ticket machine crunching away at his spoils. 

“Make cut,” she says plainly, searching around for that knife again.

You raise your brow suspiciously  but let any irrational thought go as she holds up her very non lethal kiddie knife.

Doctor Ellie starts serrating his belly fat back and forth with the dull piece of thick plastic.

It probably looks like real pain to her, were it not for him holding his breath as his chest and stomach puffing up and down, trying to hold his giggles and squirms together.

You watch Joel with raised brow, knowing he’s got tears in his eyes trying to play poker face so hard, knowing you’re there watching him get tickled by this thing and knowing he’s gonna deny it profusely. 

“Shouldn’t you put me under anesthesia—“

She slaps a piece of paper — the phony ticket from her train conductor set (Jesus, how many different toy sets did you guys get her?) — a little too carelessly, but enough to get the idea across that daddy needs to stop talking as she does careful work.

“Sew!” She announces, as if she has a nurse assistant handing her each tool. Although, technically, she does, but you seem more interested in wiping the plate of peanut butter and sucking it off your digits.

Joel’s eyes are closed, enjoying the serenity of lying on the floor. You don’t realize how good it is to be on the ground until you have kids, and now you’re constantly on the floor doing everything with them.

“Mommy…where sew?”

You shrug. They’ve got so many toys, you’re honestly not sure what creative thing she’s gonna come up with the “sew” Joel’s tummy. Given her use of the kids knife, you’re curious what kind of toy—

She pulls out a real sewing needle, point and sharp and definitely not kid approved along with fabric thread. It glints in her little hand for a brief moment as she dips to make contact on Joel’s skin—

“OOKAY Let’s not use that,” you yelp, grasping her arm carefully from going any further. Joel’s still got that stupid paper over his eyes, absolutely oblivious and too trusting of Ellie. 

Something else about kids: you can baby proof the fuck out of everything you didn’t even think needed baby proofing, and yet they will still —what does Jeff Goldblum say in the dinosaur movie?…—f’ind a way’. 

You remove the needle and thread from her grasp, position it inside a cotton swab and high out of her reach. You fashion a string of yarn wrapped around a q-tip instead, and hand it to her like it’s nothing. She takes it and goes back to “sewing” Joel’s tummy up, dragging the cottony tip over his naval.

His belly dips as he lets out a pained breath, trying so hard to act like he’s not tickled. 

“Am I gonna make it doc?” Joel asks curiously.

“Bluey!”

He doesn’t quite understand that answer, until she’s pulling out the packs of varied assortment of bandaids. It takes a few minutes to help her pull each sticky back off, but soon Joel’s got 4 bandaids of Paw Patrol on his stomach, one Bingo on top of his jeans, some chainsaw massacre’s on his arm, and a pretty hello kitty across his forehead. 

“All done!” She boasts happily.

“Nah uh! You need to make sure it stays better!”

“Oh—“ she bends down and kisses his belly, just like you and Joel always do whenever she gets a minor booboo. Kisses make everything better.

Minus the bacteria in your saliva but ya know it’s the placebo in the thought that really counts for the healing factor. 

“Give daddy one on the cheek for good measure,” he commands, pointing sternly into his face. She happily obliges with a fat “mmmmmwah!”

“Yay. Looks like he’ll live,” you muse a little too unhappily. Joel snickers, sitting upright. God, he somehow looks ridiculous and hot with hellow kitty plastered across his forehead. 

“Doc, do you think I need to come back in for a check up, ya know, just to see—“

But Ellie has already concluded her medical services, now hustling away to go find something else to do. 

-

Joel steps out to the backyard, where Sarah is cruising in her remote toy jeep with the 6 ducks packed in the passenger seat and trunk. 

She rolls to a stop, her brightly colored sunglasses peering up at her Dad. She sucks her ring pop silently, knowing the desperation he’s come to seek her out.

Sarah fully well knows Ellie has Joel in her back pocket, and she likes to let that play out. because ultimately… Sarah can also benefit from their needy relationship off one another.

Joel clears his throat, looking around as if he’s making an illegal trade. “I’ll give ya two ring pops if ya pretend to run me over. And not the face this time,” he warms, knowing she’’ll plea innocence to his own askings. “Just for Ellie to see.”

She sucks on her candy before pulling it out of her mouth with a loud pop. “I’d do it for free.”

----

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[ecstarry]

"It was a Thursday" a love confession far from perfect // 529 words

It was not supposed to happen like this. They both had waited so long, it was going to be special. Possibly on the weekend trip they had carefully planned and made up excuses to justify sharing a bed. Or maybe it was going to happen after breakfast, on their walk back to the hotel. 

They were waiting. Regulus was certain they both figured it out at the same time — no doubt late compared to the rest of their friends. But it was a Tuesday, and the weather was horrible and his hair just didn’t look right. That was no way to confess his love to one James Potter. 

But today, a Thursday, with an okay weather, exams around the corner, when both of them were upset was definitely worse. 

Regulus couldn’t even remember what they were even fighting about, let alone how it turned into both of them screaming and blowing up on each other. There was nothing left to be said.

It was James who broke the silence. “I’m done, Reg,” 

He was going to be sick. “What does that even mean?” Regulus’ voice broke. 

“I won’t fight anymore,” James responded. 

Regulus turned his face, the thought of watching James leave was unbearable. “So you’ll just go?” He could barely get the words out. 

“Look at me.” James took a step closer. 

“No.” Regulus' eyes shut his eyes as he felt James’ hands squeeze his arms. Why did he have to be this gentle even when he was breaking Regulus’ heart?

James released his grip and softly brushed the side of Regulus’ arm with his thumb. “Please, look at me.”

Regulus obliged. James’ eyes were just as teary-eyed as his own. Was it just as tormentful for James to watch him?

“Why are you crying if I’m the one who has to watch you leave?” There was no venom in Regulus’ tone, and sadness seemed too insignificant of a word at the moment. Ache. That was closer. 

James’ hands traveled to his face, and god, were they were warm. One last kiss of the sun on his skin before winter came. He would miss it. They were so close to having it all, then Regulus snapped, said something wrong, and he didn’t even remember it. He couldn’t stop as his sharp words attacked until it was too late, he had crossed a line. James would-

“I love you.”

What?

“I love you.” James repeated, loudly. “I’m not leaving.” 

“Yo- you said you were done.”

“Fighting. I was done fighting, Reg.” James chuckled as he moved his feet close enough that the point of their shoes were touching. “I could never be done with you.” 

Regulus felt as if he was drowning and had finally caught some air. They were okay. James wasn’t leaving. James loved him. James loved him?

“You love me?”

“Actually, I’m in love with you.” James whispered as he lifted Regulus’ face slightly. “And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten that upset, you were already stressed and I knew it but I just couldn’t keep my mouth shu-”

“I love you too.”

“You do?”

“In love, actually.” Regulus said, allowing a small smile to form.

There was no perfect breakfast, no perfect weather, no perfect sunrise. It was a Thursday, with an okay weather, exams around the corner, both of them upset, and yet, they loved each other. Any day together would be lovely as long as that one truth remained. 

[maybefae]

Week Ahead: 11/11-11/17/2024

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Remember, this is a general reading and it may not resonate for everyone or completely. Tarot is a tool to help guide but you are responsible for your actions and life, you choose your path.

Tips!

Pile 1

Tarot: The Hanged Man (Sacrifice), The Star (The Veil), Eight of Swords, Queen of Pentacles, The Fool (Death), Three of Cups, The Hermit (The Cosmic Tree), Strength (The Orbs)

Oracle: The Pathless, The Priest

Hello, my loves. Has the past week been a little tiring? Overwhelming? This week probably won’t be as crazy but there is a feeling of numbness. Maybe just lost. It feels as if you are just floating through time and space at the moment because of uncertainty towards the future. You’ve been thrust into a whole new chapter without any preparation and without any knowledge of it happening. And now, it feels like you have to sacrifice the past in someway, or it was sacrificed for you. You were grabbed by the arms and yanked away from the past. 

I believe that your only symbol of hope at the moment are your friends. The ones closest to you or at least a community. They are the only ones grounding you to reality. 

If you need to stay to yourself, enter hermit mode, for a little but until there’s a little clarity, it’s okay to do so. Just don’t let yourself be a hermit forever because that will cause more isolation and a feeling of being lost than you already have. 

You’re working very hard and I think you can only trust yourself with that at the moment. Maybe it’s for a distraction for a little bit, maybe it’s for future comfort. But you’re persevering. You’re being very strong despite the uncertainty. And maybe this is just what you have to do right now to navigate a lack of direction. Follow your instincts because they will never lead you astray. I think you’re doing the right thing at the moment, if you needed that comfort. 

Take things slow, one step at a time. And divulge in something you love to do. Self-care in any form will be good.

Pile 2

Tarot: Page of Swords, Three of Pentacles, Ace of Swords, Ten of Cups, Six of Cups, Page of Wands, Four of Wands, Ace of Pentacles, Six of Swords, Eight of Pentacles 

Oracle: The Champion, The Adventurer, The Spymaster

Before I pulled any cards, I heard, “It’s gonna be okay.��� It was in a very warm and comforting female voice. It’s like a mother, in her purest form, comforting you. 

There is a lot of messages happening at once but I was being very organized when getting the cards out. I heard “keep your cards close” and “ducks in a row.” There could be a level of secrecy with something you’re organizing. And I think you are organizing this project with others/friends.

Now I heard, “loudmouth.” You’re being vocal about something and it feels like you feel an obligation to lead something. And this could be revolving around taking care of others in a time of need. I’m getting the sense of building a strong foundation and community. A safe haven. This could be people with a like-mindedness to you. I’m getting a vision of Woodstock ‘69 where people were taking care of each other and there was a kitchen where people from outside brought food to help when things got a little dire at the festival. You could be the one at the beginning saying it’s gonna be okay.

Back to the project you’re organizing. You could be getting a bunch of friends together so you all can live under one roof, save money. I don’t know there’s a big focus on help and community and minimizing a struggle here. You’re working really hard at it and trying anything you can to make things work. 

Pile 3

Tarot: Ace of Swords, Six of Wands, Two of Pentacles, Five of Wands, Knight of Pentacles, Queen of Cups, Ace of Pentacles, Seven of Pentacles, Four of Wands (reversed), King of Swords(back of deck)

Oracle: The Wise One, The Sentinel, The Assassin

I just want to say that your pile confused me the most. I also Wanna say that you are gonna be going at something really aggressively and quickly. The deck kept digging into my fingers, pinching me, and the cards would shoot out and hit something on my desk to the point of making a noise.

I had to pull for cards twice but the King of Swords remained here.

You could be going after something very passionately/aggressively. But I think it’s out of pure desperation and greed. Maybe even jealousy and pride. 

Now, I don’t like doing general love readings but I do get a sense that this could be a person. And I don’t think it's out of pure intentions. This feels like someone you just wanna lay claim over so no one else can have them. There is very prideful and jealous energy. This endeavour will be fruitless. The person you want does not have the same feelings for you and may honestly see you as a “mean girl/person.” Or maybe you were just very certain they had feelings for you and you gained a lot of courage to say something only to be let down.

For those of you who actually like this person and have just been working the courage up to say something, I think it’s more of a teaching in courage. I think you will have success when it comes to your confidence because you had the courage to say something. This person probably won’t have the same feelings but they do recognize your courage and respect you for that. They won’t be mean about turning your advances down, they will be respectful and nice. But there won’t be anything that comes to fruition between the both of you.

Decks Used: White Numen Tarot: A Sacred Animal Tarot Deck by AlbaBG, Cosma Visions Oracle by James R. Eads, Ophida Rosa Tarot by Leila and Olive, The Citadel: A Fantasy Oracle by Fez Inkwright Dividers: @inklore

[matcha-milkies]

LIKE AN OLEANDER

Summary: Bill Cipher needs a footstool and a thoroughly Stockholmed Ford is happy to oblige.

Relationships: Bill Cipher & Ford Pines, Pyronica is there too

Content Warnings: Abuse, Master/Pet, Psychological Torture/Horror/Trauma, Stockholm Syndrome, Victim Blaming, Sensory Deprivation

Tags: Triangle Bill, Canon Divergence - Weirdmageddon, Bill Cipher Wins, Collars, Chains, Whump, Hurt No Comfort, Bill Cipher is a Jerk

Word Count: 1,306

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: Based on @jellyskink’s immaculate Domesticated Ford AU, in which Bill mentally breaks Ford in the 1980s and brainwashes him into an obedient and fawning pet. Weirdmageddon started early, and over time the weirdness bubble surrounding Gravity Falls naturally expanded to contain both California and Oregon. If you want to learn more, there’s a lot more tidbits on their blog, though fair warning it’s a pretty dark and sad AU.

Thank you, jellyskink, for giving me the green light to write a fic for this!

I saw someone say this au is “all pain, no sex” which is really at the heart of what I look for in fics, but is so painstakingly absent in most fandoms, so this is a godsend •⩊•

If you haven’t listened to “Oleander” by Mother Mother what are you even doing with your life /lh

Bill Cipher is in a particularly good mood today. He and Pyronica probably broke a record for largest bonfire in California, even counting all their previous antics over the years. Not the dream demon’s most creative endeavor by a long shot, but hey, sometimes you just gotta start a blazing inferno to let off some steam. Nothing wrong with a bit of simple, straightforward arson now and then.

It’s only when he returns to the Fearamid, practically glowing, buzzing and high off the screams of the innocent, that he remembers the state he left Sixer in.

The man is in a kneeling position, collared by the neck. His hair, fluffy and disheveled, feathers down to around his shoulders, brushing against the cruel blue metal. His twelve fingers twitch and grasp at nothing, futilely, as though groping for purchase on a rugged cliffside. His purple sweater is rumpled in places, like he had pulled and grabbed at that too, to no evident avail. He’s whimpering to himself, words that are at first indiscernible as Bill enters the massive chamber.

The scientist is tethered to a ring near the base of the Throne of Frozen Human Agony, staring vacantly into the middle space, unseeing. It’s not his fault. Bill severed all input from his optic nerves, so he literally can’t see. Or hear. Or feel. Yeah, he cut off those nerves too. It was supposed to be a punishment that lasted a few hours. And then Bill had left and gotten carried away with his fun, and well, it had been an entire day.

Whoops.

Make no mistake, he doesn’t feel bad about it. If anything, it’s kind of funny, like forgetting to feed your dog! Wait. Humans don’t find that funny. Well, who can expect them to understand the emotions of an all-powerful chaos god? He draws closer, and the previously indiscernible words sharpen into clarity.

“I love you, my muse. I love you.”

Repeated ad nauseam to the uncaring void.

“Aww,” Bill clasps his hands together and brings them closer to his eye. “He’s so pathetic!” Pyronica, who came in with him, nods her agreement and laughs along. This must be what it’s like to catch your puppy mid-dream, its little tongue lolling and leg kicking at nothing.

He can’t remember whether he instructed his pet to repeat those words or not. Honestly, it’s anyone’s guess. Bill’s will and Ford’s are so inextricable at this point that Ford often does things without needing to be told. Of course, they’re not entirely on the same wavelength, or else punishment wouldn’t be required in the first place.

“Eh, remind me to snap him out of it in another half an hour,” Bill says, settling himself on the throne. With a wave of an arm he summons a martini glass. “I’m gonna have myself a drink.”

“Sure thing, boss.” He summons a glass for her too, and hipshot, she accepts. “Hey, you think we should’ve put the fire out before we left?”

They both share a hearty chuckle over that. “Would be a shame if it all burned down!” Bill sighs as the laughter dies down. “Nah, but seriously. California will still be there for us to play with tomorrow. And if it isn’t, we can always just rebuild it! In my image! Ha!”

“Yeah. Technically the fires are my image though.”

“Touché!”

They talk for a while, maybe 20 minutes or so in this fashion, casually sipping time punch and discussing unnatural disasters like they’re music festivals. Ford goes completely untouched and unnoticed, until suddenly Bill returns his attention to the human, and a light bulb goes off next to his hat.

“Wait. Do you wanna see something hysterical? I have the best idea.”

Every sensation returns to Ford at once in a flood of color, touch and sound. Sometimes, when Bill is feeling merciful, he eases him back into it, but his merciful moods are few and far between. More commonly, he likes to toss the scientist in the deep end and watch him flounder, tears quickly beading at the corners of Ford’s eyes and spilling fatly over his cheeks. His body convulses in a singular, broken sob, and before he can finish another apologetic, “I love you,” Bill hits him with a hard command.

“Stanford! I need a footstool!” The demon extends his legs and wiggles his feet a little. He whistles as though beckoning a dog. “Come ‘ere!”

Despite his disorientation, Ford rushes to obey, lurching in the direction of Bill’s voice and falling flat on his face. Shakenly, he picks himself off the ground, letting loose a singular groan.

“I’m still waiting!” Bill sings, swinging his legs a little for effect. Pyronica snickers. Ford tries again, following the sound of his muse’s voice, although he is quickly dismayed to find that he’s already reached the end of his chain. He falls just short of Bill’s feet, and no matter how he chokes himself, no matter how hard he tugs at the collar or the chain attached, he can’t go any further than this. His distress is evident in the way he keens.

“What are you doing?” Bill demands, rolling his eye. “All I asked for was a simple footstool and you can’t even do that? Bad! Bad dog!” Ford sobs.

“I-I’m sorry, my muse!” he rasps, the cold metal of the collar pressing in on his windpipe as he strains to obey. “I’m so sorry!”

Pyronica is practically in stitches at this point, and Bill is a showman, a class clown ever chasing the next laugh. “Are you really though?” His eye wanes to an amused crescent. “Do you even love me, if you can’t even follow a command as simple as this?”

“Yes!” Ford insists with a cry. “Yes, my muse, I love you! I’m sorry that I’m so useless… Please, please forgive me…”

“Why should I? Do you think you deserve forgiveness?”

“N- No,” Ford sniffs, “but—”

“Alright, alright. Since I’m in such a good mood, I’ll give you a hand.” Bill waves his hand in a circle and the chain elongates, allowing just enough slack for Ford to crawl under his waiting feet. Bill settles them heavily on top of Ford’s back and sighs. “Ahh, that’s better.” The man shakes under the weight.

“Thank you, my muse,” he says. Normally, he would be a lot happier about serving Bill like this, but he’s clearly still torn up over his recent punishment and failures. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it, kid!” Bill rests his hands behind his ‘head,’ or rather, the tip of his topmost vertex. “Maybe after this, if you’re good, you can have a treat.”

“R- Really? Oh, thank you so much, my muse. I promise I’ll be good.” His voice is still wavery from the earlier-shed tears, but his cheer seems to be returning. It’s not difficult to keep the man happy when he’s so thoroughly and hopelessly smitten with his muse. Bill could have Pyronica drop-kick Ford off the top of the Fearamid right now and when he reached the bottom he would find a way to smile and thank Bill, no matter how many broken pieces he was in.

“Yeah. Now shut up while I get some reading in. Hasn’t anyone ever told you footstools don’t talk? Sheesh.” With a sigh, Bill summons an extradimensional magazine and floats it in front of his eye, every so often flipping through the pages. Pyronica says she’s off to see what Teeth and Keyhole are up to, and Bill acknowledges her departure with a little grunt and wave. Ford stifles a whimper. His back has already been giving him issues lately, and this definitely isn’t helping matters, but he soldiers through it for his muse. He’s determined not to mess up again. He’s determined to be a good footstool.

A/N: This is my first time writing from Bill’s perspective! I don’t usually write him this cruel, so it was a fun change of pace to lean full force into that side of him. Thanks again, jellyskink, I hope you liked this little installment!

[ordinarypersoninthisworld]

What have women done ?

Nicholas Fuentes just reminded us all that women are nothing for men.

Your body my choice. I don’t get it. I simply don’t.

What have we done ? What have we done to get century’s of oppression, repression ? What have we done to get raped ? What have we done to get looked down ? What have we done ?

The thing I believe is, if men never needed women we would simply have been exterminated by now. Because how would you explain the oppression, and everything else we endured for centuries?

Nicholas Fuentes mother’s must be so disappointed. Every rapists, pedophile etc mothers must be so disappointed. It’s not your fault unless you taught him those stuff.

Abortion is my right. I’m not ready I get rid of the cell. I don’t have the money I get rid of it. It’s my rapists baby, I’ll have no remorse. You can kill a cell up to 3 months, otherwise the baby gain consciousness. So instead of forbidding it, make a deadline.

Oh and if you ban abortion then the father cannot leave under any circumstances. It’s his baby too and he put his semen into me I didn’t specifically ask for it. If it’s a rapist’s baby then I have the right to give it up for adoption. I didn’t ask for that baby nor do I want to remember for the rest of my life that I got raped. But if I got raped and have his baby you need to either leave it up to him with obligation or put him in jail. So don’t surprise when so much babies are gonna be found abandoned.

All the things that happens to innocent women all over the world just because they are women is the most vile thing in the existence.

Look, in Afghanistan a new law passed. Women cannot talk between themselves. Women lost their voices. Literally. They have to fully cover themselves EVEN the eyes! Yes normally you can show your eyes well they can’t. Why women ? We haven’t done nothing. We haven’t killed no one.

In Japan the sexual assault is so big than the worst tortured in the human existence happened to a girl getting tortured, raped, sexually assaulted and cruelly abused. She just said no. She said no to go out with a guy. You can say no. Every woman would say no if they don’t know you or just don’t want to. You can reject girls but we can’t ? We can’t because we might get tortured and killed ? A woman had sex with a man and when it comes to preliminary, the guy tortured her: he shoved his hand so far he reached her organs and pulled them out of her body. She was still alive. Do you imagine just the slightest bit of terror and absolute pain she must have been in ? Why did he do that? Well she was a woman. A girl got gang raped in India. Why ? She was a little girl. A man raped his daughter more than 200 times got almost no sentences and kept the guard. Why ? She was a girl.

Girls are forced to marry when they have their period, the youngest being 9 in 2024. 9. Let girls be girls. They don’t have to get married to an old sick man. They don’t want to get pregnant, they don’t want to carry babies, they don’t want to have sex, they don’t want to be tied for eternity.

They want to grow up at their pace, they want to experience childhood and believes in unicorns.

Men are not dogs. Because dogs would never do that to you. Men are men. Men are vile, men are repulsive men scared me.

I’m scared of everything. I’m scared when I go to my school, I’m scared when I take the bus I’m scared when I refuse someone on instagram or Snapchat I’m scared when I’m out I’m scared of having a boyfriend I’m scared of having my first time I’m scared of saying no to a man I’m scared of getting assaulted and I’m utterly scared of getting raped. Because I’ll rather die.

My women are scared to. My sisters are scared of you. But my sisters are ready to fight to.

Iranian women are doing it. Keep it up girls, you deserve respect, recognition and rights to.

In Afghanistan, nobody is doing anything. Why ? Because they are women. Let’s be honest, if roles were reversed and it was done to men, many presidents would have done something. I’m scared for them.

In Somalia,(And many other countries still) families practice what’s called Female genital Mutilation (for boys it’s circumscribed ) on little girls. More than 200 million women in the world are victims of those tortures. What’s so different ? Why is it not called mutilated for boys ? It’s simple do the maths. We have holes, Which apparently throughout the humans history was enough to make us lesser bumans.

You can’t retire anything on a man penis except for the skin at the end to prevent them from masturbating.

Well for a woman, you can. But it’s recognized internationally as inhuman and a violation of women rights and health as well as entraining so much complications that a lot of young girls die. It’s usually do with a razor blade that is not sanitary and the women aren’t put in sleep. They cut the clitoris. They retire it. Or they cut the interior lips as well and retire them. Oh and the exterior lips are cut. And then they sew. They sew the holes. If you wanna know what it is google is here.

This is the most intense pain a woman can experience. The genitals parts on both women and men are the most sensitive and endangering parts if someone is of bad intentions.

https://youtu.be/kFpOHYQlz24?si=7i5eKJdbRFdShEkL

Here is a strong woman sharing her story about her experience.

Let’s get back to something softer. Beauty standards.

I don’t know about you reading this but I don’t seem to know of any particular men beauty standards. They don’t have to comform to a certain nose (most of the time) or certain eye shapes and lips.

I guess they are but men are good to create insecurities and unrealistic beauty standards for women. Furthermore there is the whole hourglass body stuff and petite women.

First I think petite women especially used by men is a way of infantilizing a woman to make her look innocent etc and unless you have a fast metabolism or surgery most of the women don’t have a hourglass body. I have a slow metabolism and sports does not work for me. Yet I’m a mid size girl with a fat tummy. I can’t wear crop tops nor any clothes I like because y’all decided I had to look a certain way for that. I have broad shoulder and wide rib cage so im not considered feminine enough. Well fuck you. I’m a woman that’s enough. Some girls are bigger than me and are confident and I envy you and support you so bad. Some girls are thinner than the norm and yet are such pure souls. Some girls are curvy and hate their bodies so bad. And some girls have the perfect body yet would like some more skin. We can never be happy with our body that is the same for everyone. Yet we accept men as they are most of the time. We normalized having a dad body yet when it comes to a woman you can’t have tummy. If you have a dad body that’s okay girl don’t mind but if you have a mom body because guess what you just had a baby . or multiple and have an injury the size of a rounded pillow inside of you you are ugly. You need to get thin you need to have big boobs no stretch marks ! You can’t look like you had a kid because that’s not attractive. Bullshit. You can’t expect a woman to lose weight after having a baby.

Oh and for fucks sake women you don’t have to reserved yourself from a burger. You want to eat it ? Eat it. We don’t care about what men think they eat 3x times the burger!

Plus The mere idea of having a type is just stupid. and if women said they want a certain type that are not the men watching the vids you can expect them to say something like: well we don’t want fat women/ we don’t want full face etc. Like shut up she’s not gonna date you nor are you even gonna meet her in real lifeYou fall in love with personality. And no looks does not matter despite what everybody is trying to say because personality makes you 10x prettier than you are. If you have a shit personality people will avoid you like the plague but if you are nice kind smart etc they tend to find you attractive and prettier than what you already are.

That was a rant about everything I had in mind and probably have A lot of misspelling and mistakes. But I just watch Nicholas Fuentes that little bitch and I hope he gets so injured he’ll get alzeihmer so that someone can re-educate him because he doesn’t seem to respect his mother and every women in his life.

Remember it’s not all men but it’s always a man.

[privatebooth]

When they get back together Hawke doesn't rush to be intimate with Fenris. The two are very affectionate, hugging, kissing and touching each other with no restraint, but Hawke never initiates or insists on anything more (even when Fenris doesn't seem to mind it).

He is a little bit worried about the possibility of Fenris feeling guilty about their breakup and the three years of time wasted, and fears that Fenris may feel obliged to please Hawke, doing something he doesn't really want to do. He knows that Fenris is not entirely free of his slave mentality, and wants to help him work through it (but remain subtle about it). I just have a lot of feelings about Fenris giving friendship points for reminding the world on his behalf that he is not a slave, like he needs constant reminders and reassurence ;_;

So Hawke simply wants Fenris to make the first move and make it explicitly clear what he wants.

However Fenris is confused at first. They've had a number of encounters that by all accounts (in Fen's mind) should have led to sex. Fenris gives it some thought.

At this point he has no doubt that Hawke cares deeply about him and wants to be with him. He concludes that Hawke, burned by the experience of their first time, is afraid of scaring Fenris off by being pushy. He might even assume that Fenris finds sex off-putting? And because Hawke was always painfully understanding, considerate and supportive of Fenris, he thinks it totally like Hawke to put Fenris's wellbeing before his own wants.

Fenris finds it endearing, but a little frustrating. He's a free man now, and wants to have what a free man can have. He wants to get all and everything out of his relationship with Hawke, including sex. Yet he doesn't dare to start something himself because... Should he? Is it really his place to do so? He decides that he can at least tell Hawke that he doesn't need this kind of coddling. He can and he should. He knows in his heart that Hawke will understand! Fenris seriously struggles to find the words to bring up the issue, so he decides to act.

The next time they return to Hawke's mansion after another battle they bath (separately) and clean up. Hawke lets Fenris finish first, then goes himself. Fenris tries to remain calm awaiting Hawke's return - naked, holding the used towel that covers nothing.

When Hawke appears he is surprised by the sight and can't look away.

If there were any lingering doubt (like what if it's something else? What if there is something you don't know?) Hawke's awestruck expression erases all trace of it and fills Fenris with confidence. He ditches the towel altogether and approaches Hawke without a hint of constraint.

He says that he'd been thinking on how to get Hawke's attention, explains that for some time now he's been dreaming of feeling Hawke's touch again (Fenris takes Hawke's hand and decidedly puts it on his chest and places his own hand above Hawke's heart). He states that he still very much wants Hawke to touch him, wants to feel him inside, yet Hawke doesn't seem particularly interested. Matter-of-factly he wonders if perhaps Hawke doesn't want him anymore.

They keep touching, remembering the not forgotten feel of each other's bare skin. It's been so long! Hawke is very happy to know that Fenris isn't shy about speaking his mind and that he acted on his own. In the softest tone that he can manage he says

I'll never not want you.

With a mischievious smile he adds Just say the word.

He probably makes some joke about him having wanted to be seduced by Fenris.

Fenris looks him in the eye and says

I am yours, so take me.

Hawke thinks to himself Close enough. This will have to do for now. It's a start.

Then they kiss and Hawke sweeps Fenris off his feet because it needs to happen at least once!

I think this takes place after that convo where Varric brings up the subject, and Hawke was inspired by his idea. Probably thought it would be cool)

[makorragal-312]

Why the BuckTommy break-up fell flat narratively...

Disclaimer: I am not defending this ship. I hate it and I'm glad it's dead.

1. Prior to the break-up, he made a jab at Abby for dating a guy half her age and riding Buck off as "a himbo." Even though he's literally doing the same exact thing.

That, kids, is what we call "hypocrisy."

2. Tommy said that he "knows how the relationship ends."

Sir, if you know how it ends, why did you go for it in the first place? This just gives off that he was only dating Buck either for a good time or because Eddie wasn't showing any signs of interest, so he just settled for his bestie.

3. Tommy tries to pawn off the catalyst of the relationship ending on Buck, saying that he would "break his heart."

Even though HE was the one doing all the heart-breaking shit to BUCK throughout the entire goddamn relationship.

4. Josh's dumbass advice.

Okay, that's not fair. Josh's advice wasn't dumb per-say, but it was completely irrelevant to Buck's issue. I know that he probably doesn't really know who Tommy is, but making him sound like he was this gay pioneer who led the charge at Stonewall and that his scars should be respected?

Absolute nope.

It ended up making Buck's move-in proposal feel like he was doing it out of obligation because Tommy's been out longer than he has, so why shouldn't he ask him to move in with him?

And on that topic...

5. The return of the hamster wheel

You would think that after dumping Taylor the way he did, Buck would remember that he doesn't necessarily have to hold on to relationships that aren't working and he can just cut it loose, right?

Wrong.

Instead, they have Buck actually take Josh's advice and pull a Taylor 2.0 by asking Tommy to move in with him. This show continues to leave Buck on that fucking hamster wheel instead of letting him get off and it's working my nerve. Even if this was just the show's way of showing that Buck's toxic relationship tendencies don't change because he's with someone of the same sex, it's still redundant and annoying.

6. Buck.

The first and only time Tommy chooses to refer to Buck by his preferred name is when he's dropping him like a baked potato.

And the show never even gave Buck the chance to tell him off about it.

The fucking audacity.

And finally,

7. TOMMY KINARD HIMSELF

This whole scene, the narrative tries to paint Tommy out to be this sympathetic character all throughout, making him look all sad and talking about how "he knew the parking spot was too good to be true" and citing Buck to be the one who would break his heart.

Despite the fact that he literally broke Buck's again just seconds ago.

I'll never understand why the show decided to take this route with Tommy's character for the episode even though in past episodes, he's been canonically depicted to be insensitive at best and flat out bigoted at worse. And throughout the entirety of his and Buck's relationship, he has said and done things that have hurt Buck and he never even apologized for it. And if he did apologize, he gave a lame apology as to why he did do.

*cough* first date *cough cough*

And it definitely doesn't help matters that the show made the active choice not to bring up his past actions within the relationship or for Buck to even know about it. Instead, they made Abby the catalyst for the break up when it could've been Tommy himself being the catalyst.

Obviously, there were a million ways the show could've given the BuckTommy break-up a major impact and there were definitely ways they could've made the break-up solid with the Abby revelation.

All in all, the break-up could've been executed better, but at least the ship is dead.

[incomingalbatross]

Thoughts on Ghost Days by Jim Butcher (and possibly the earlier books, if they spill over into this post)

All of this is, as Harry observes, absolutely typical of his existence. Of course he can't just die, he gets sent back as a special unknown type of ghost to solve his own murder. And of course he shoulders like three different new obligations, makes a new friend, and adopts a criminal teenager within his first 24 hours of unlife.

Kinda love how quickly and understatedly he's incorporated the very latest familial revelation into his narration. He says something like "I'd lost the scar on my arm that I got while skinning a fish on my grandfather's farm" and it's so casual it almost slips by.

(Side note: I need to see his grandfather and his brother find out about each other now. I realize there has been no opportunity and these aren't exactly Harry's secrets to tell anyway, but please.)

Mort going "all cats can see ghosts, they just don't usually care" checked out completely, of course, but it was also perfect setup for Mister's "HELLO YOU'RE BACK MY HUMAN HI." Which. Oof.

Ways you can tell it's really Harry Dresden: 1) Mister hits him in the invisible shins, 2) he opens the conversation with a Star Wars quote, 3) he's talking a teenager into turning his life around.

Love all the Bob content in this one. Harry got to see how the other half lived and everything. (Though his amorality credentials are slightly tarnished by that heroic last stand of his. Which he'd better have survived.)

Everyone here seems like they're an inch from cracking, and I'm concerned for all of them, but they're DOING THEIR BEST. (Butters isn't an inch from cracking. He seems to be doing great, I'm very proud of him.)

Very glad and also a little amused that the Super Secret Safe Witness Protection Home for Maggie is... the Carpenters. I mean it absolutely should be, but it's also funny.

Of course Mouse exists equally in the physical and spirit world. I'd be more surprised if he didn't.

I DID have several moments where I went what about Thomas. why isn't your narration even mentioning Thomas, but the payoff of "I couldn't stand to face even the thought of what I'd done to him" made it make sense.

More general/Thematic thoughts:

Uriel and/or the narrative really said "You're going to take a good, hard look at the unintended consequences of your actions. And you're going to do it disembodied so you can process a little better."

There was something that really struck me at some points in the Lasciel period, and it's back again now: I love that when Harry crosses lines, not only is he capable of seeing it, but the reaction of the people around him is, "yeah you sure did cross a line! you did wrong. so stop doing it and get better, because you can. this isn't a slippery slope unless you decide it is."

He has! Free will! Contrition is always meaningful! Change is always possible! Harry is never allowed to write himself off. He is always told that he's capable of picking himself up and doing better - because he is. He's alive and human and that means he has as much hope as he chooses to hold onto.

That said, I also really appreciated the weight his choices in the last book are given here. It's so easy to just go along with "it was for Maggie, it was his JOB" (and it was his job), but this book made Harry and us stop and linger on both the lines he crossed and the unintended harm he caused.

(Though he is taking too much weight on himself. Martin maneuvered a lot of this into play, not to mention the ACTUAL Red Court. And there is something to be said for the SG-1 approach of "stop worrying about ramifications and just kill the ancient evil first.")

(Oh, now I remember! I was also thinking of Hunger Games re: this. Katniss and Peeta's defiance of evil was personally motivated and sparked a lot of unintended harm to others - but it was also the only spark that could have destroyed the machinery of evil. Not quite the same but made me think of it.)

ANYWAY. Speaking of crossed lines and harm caused: I was NOT prepared for the murder reveal.

It DOES explain so much about this whole book, especially in combination with the (not as shocking :P) reveal that he's only mostly dead. He NEEDED to know this. He needed to know and understand all the choices he made, and their results - and the lie that influenced him - if he was going to be allowed back to his body.

First, he needed to know there was no outside killer to worry about. He also needed to know that HE did this. All of it. Part of accepting culpability and facing his choices meant facing that there was a third murder on his account - because that is how he frames it - what he did to Molly and what he did to himself and everyone who loved him.

He also, most crucially, needed his free will reasserted, both by the manipulation being revealed to him and by Uriel balancing the scales.

Because a Harry Dresden who had given up on himself as the Winter Knight is a nightmare the world's not ready for.

Instead he's ready to give Mab new problems. :) She gets what she paid for.

Closing thought: If, when he finally gets back to the world of the living, he does not make at least one "mostly dead" and/or "really most sincerely dead" joke, I will be very disappointed in him.

[himbo-ford-pines]

hehehehehehe evil thots illegal thots here have bad babysitter Stan

CW: drinking

——————

Stanley watched his brother run full speed around the house. He sighed. He should have never given into the boy’s pleas for ice cream. Their parents were going to be gone overnight and had tasked Stanley with watching the seven year old Stanford. He recalled his pa’s warning before they left the house: “He’d better be asleep by eight, and eat his entire dinner and-“ blah blah blah. Stanley knew what he was doing. Christ they worried so much.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a crash. He paled. “Sixer, I know you didn’t run into that fucking urn.” He stared hard at their grandmother’s ashes on the floor. “God… dammit. Okay.” He stood and grabbed the broom, muttering to himself. He was gonna get his ears boxed for this.

Stanford stepped back and rubbed his arm sheepishly. “Sorry Stanley, I was pretending to be a B-52 and-“

“Yeah, bud, I saw.” He sighed. “You need to calm down a little, you’re literally bouncin’ off the walls. In fact-“ he glanced up at the cat clock monotonously ticking away above the entrance to the kitchen. “I think it’s bedtime.” He considered ashes in the dustpan and grabbed a Tupperware, dumping them in while his brother whined at him.

“What?! That’s not fair, you get to stay up all night and watch tv!”

“Yeah, cuz I’m charge tonight, and Pa gave me specific instructions on what to do with you. I’m not getting my ass whooped because you wanna watch cartoons longer than normal. I’m already getting it because you spilled Grandma on the fuckin floor.” He wiped his hands off on his white shirt, grimacing at the dark smudges. Sorry Grandma.

Ford frowned. “But I’m not tired.”

Stanley frowned. Getting this kid in bed when he didn’t want to go was nearly impossible. Then he remembered his ma talking about giving them gin on her finger when they were babies to calm them down and put them to sleep. He wondered if beer would do the same. “Tell ya what, you can stay up with me, but you have to drink with me. You wanna be a man or whatever? Come on.” He grabbed a six pack he’d stolen from the local grocery store from the fridge and placed it on the coffee table imposingly. “Think you’re up for it?”

Stanford puffed out his chest in pride. “I can do it! I am a man!” He ran over to the couch and sat down, keeping his arms crossed.

Stanley threw some pajamas at him. “At least get cozy.”

Ford groaned and started taking off his clothes. Stanley found his eyes trailing over the boy’s soft body, coming to rest on the boy’s tighty whiteys. He shook his head when Stanford pulled his pj’s back on and flopped down onto the couch, cracking open a cold one with the boy. He grabbed the clicker and switched on the tv, flipping through channels until they hit some documentary and Sixer started yelling at his older brother to stop there so he could learn about jellyfish. Stanley groaned but figured the kid would only be up for a little longer so he obliged and settled back as he was lectured on the stages of jellyfish life, polyp stage, Medusa stage, blah blah blah. He sipped his beer boredly, and pulled the boy closer, offering him the bottle. “Here. You said you’d keep up with me.”

Stanford took it, a bit unsure of himself and sniffed it, recoiling a bit at the heavy fermented wheat smell. “You sure Pa won’t get mad?”

“Not if Pa doesn’t know. You gonna rat me out?”

“No.”

“Then shut up and quit worrying. Drink.” He opened another beer for himself and chugged half of it, letting out a loud long burp afterwards that sent Stanford into giggles.

“Gross Stanley!” He hit his arm and regarded the bottle before taking a tentative sip and almost spitting it out. Stanley covered his mouth.

“Swallow, Sixer.”

Ford swallowed with a shudder and let out a much smaller burp. Stanley grinned and nodded for him to keep going as the teen continued sipping his own beer. Stanford wasn’t going to back down from a challenge- he never did. So he drank. He finished the bottle about the same time that Stanley was half way through his second. He leaned back with a groan. His tummy hurt, but he didn’t feel drunk? At least, he didn’t think so?

“Hey kid, go grab those chips.” Stanley pointed to the bag of potato chips on the counter in the kitchen. “But finish this first.” He handed him the half full bottle of beer he had been working on. “Then we’ll be even.” He smirked, seeing the unsure look on Ford’s face. “Unless you’re chicken.”

Ford wrinkled his nose and tilted the bottle back, holding his breath to avoid tasting the sour liquid as it washed down his throat. He slammed the bottle down on the table, burped in his brother’s face, stood up determinedly, took one step towards the kitchen, and fell flat on his face with a groan.

Stanley burst out laughing and stood, stretching. “That was so easy. Alright, bed-“ his inebriated brain focused in on the lining of Ford’s underwear peeking out from his pajama pants. His cock jumped in his own sweats. He looked at the clock. He still had hours before their parents were home… and he and Ford had played before. It’s not like he hadn’t gotten a yes any other time he’d asked, why would this time be different. He picked the drunk kid up and tossed him on the couch.

Stanford grunted and blinked up at him. “Dizzy…”

“Shh.” He pulled the boy’s pants and underwear off, silent, and let Ford’s legs fall back onto the couch as he stared at the boy’s soft cock. He just… he needed this. He reached for another beer and took a drink of it before pushing it to his brother’s lips, making him take a drink despite Ford shaking his head. Stanley pushed Sixer back down onto the couch and pulled his cock out, stroking himself with a small groan before going down, taking Stanford’s entire package into his mouth and moving his tongue around, playing with his tiny cock and his fucking grape sized excuse for a sack. Ford let out a lewd noise, tangling small hands in his brother’s hair. “S-Stanleyyyy~” he crooned before his mouth fell open. He stared at the ceiling fan for what felt like a very long time as he focus’s on his brother’s warm mouth on his privates. He gasped- he was about to finish in his brother’s mouth when Stanley pulled off with a shimmery line of pre connecting his lips to Ford’s cock. He grabbed his brother’s legs and lifted them before spitting right onto his ass and shoving two finger into him. Ford yelped at the sudden penetration, wiggling clumsily in Stanley’s grasp but Stan had a big advantage on him in size and sobriety. “Easy buddy, I’m not gonna fuck you tonight, not really anyway. You get fingered and put to bed, that’s it.”

Ford let out an unintelligible whimpering slur of words at him that Stanley ignored as he felt around for Ford’s sweet spot. He found it quickly- he knew his way around- and didn’t let up on it, touching and feeling the boy’s prostate until Stanford came all over his own legs, blubbering and gasping. Stanley pulled his fingers out slowly and wiped them on the couch as he watched Ford catch his breath. “Are you ready for bed yet Sixer?”

Ford just closed his eyes and Stanley sighed in relief, curling around him in an apartment that was finally quiet.

[paintpanic]

A new batch of drawing prompts for you to play with this coming October! Enjoy!

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Ok a line has been crossed and I am not ok with it on any level. Trolling is never ever ok.

After one of them made a comment on my correctly tagged post (now blocked and reported) they have clearly made a post about it with my url @‘d and as a result I have just had my inbox spammed by over 30 (and climbing) bt stans on anon telling me my url is offensive and they they hope I and Eddie get stage 4 terminal cancer so my url will actually be a relevant reference to something.

The originator was clearly looking to cause trouble by coming into the anti tags after the episode.

I am fully aware the people who actually need to see this won’t but saying that to anyone regardless of ship or fandom or anything is seriously hideous behaviour and it’s not ok.

It makes it very clear they are new to the 911 fandom and have never seen any bts stuff pre s7 especially related to Eddie. For those who don’t know stage four Eddie diaz is a reference to a post Ryan made about Eddie’s new haircut and job going into 5b (Eddie’s breakdown era).

Regardless of that that is an awful thing to wish on a character on a show. That is wishing death on them.

But the biggest and most problematic part of it all is the wishing terminal cancer or any stage of cancer for that matter on someone - a real life human being who opens up their inbox and sees those messages.

A real life human being who may be affected by cancer in their real not online life. A real person who might be enjoying an escape from the reality of cancer and cancer treatment through fandom.

I don’t have cancer but I did loose my mother to cancer when I was 18. It’s not something I would wish on my worst enemy.

The entire thing has left me feeling upset. Fandom is supposed to be a safe and enjoyable space if you cannot respect other peoples opinions and ships then maybe don’t engage with fandom.

They won’t win - I’m made of stronger stuff then that but I cannot let it go without saying anything more widely because who knows what others are getting in their inboxes that might have an impact on their mental health and well-being.

[burntchickenlookingass]

Tagged by @princiere to expose my favs from 10 different fandoms. I am indecisive. List is in no particular order.

1. Luigi (Super Mario)

2. Colton (Animal Crossing)

3. Sango & Koga (Inuyasha)

4. Giovanni Potage (Epithet Erased)

5. Riku (Kingdom Hearts)

6. Michelangelo (TMNT)

7. Phoenix Wright (Ace Attorney)

8. Xiao & Childe (Genshin Impact)

9. Armstrong (Fullmetal Alchemist)

10. Leon Kennedy & Ethan Winters (Resident Evil (games))

I am tagging @bi-casualpapayas and @the-random-internaut and whoever wants to join.