#I will continue to remain overly proud of this for a while

[pinkandgreenarepurpleandyellow]

Presenting the project that made me heterophobic:

Yep! I am the dork that painted the masks of our current five boys over the course of three-four days (easier to space than six would be and lets face it, I do not care for kurlzz). I chose the Notes from the Underground masks because I've realized that it's the album that most of my favorite songs thus far come from. I quickly began regretting my decision at the point where I realized exactly how limited my paint options were and how many cool colors I would need. More details for each mask below (going bottom to top).

Danny's mask looks almost nothing like the actual one mostly because I painted the circles first and did not realize the mask was more angular than I initially thought. I also had no gold, so we've got a lovely yellow mixed with tan for the base color. The bullets are rough but also smaller than you'd think and a basic brush set from Michaels does not, as I have learned, have super tiny brushes, so I did the best I could on the casings. I am proud of the fact that I tried to make the rust work as best as I could, and if you look really closely, you can even see the mesh in the eyes (looks a little clearer on the left eye). The smirk is present on the right side and I do think it's decently recognizable.

This one made me cry. Any criticism of the fire around the eyes will be met with the response to suck dick because, to be quite frank, I challenge anyone to do better at 1 am and remain disturbingly proud of them. I'm kinda sad that my green (mixed from blue and yellow, because my budget is two pennies and all previous supplies) dried up early cause I was hoping to get more of the Louis Vuitton-style details, but still pretty damn good. I think the pyramid and the canisters turned out nice. Also, a little bit of a cat-eye shape for the eyeholes and the fire, but that was deliberate and I will not be ashamed of it in my moment of pride (I will undoubtedly feel the shame within five minutes of posting, but that is a problem for future me).

A fun an interesting fact is that this is the second time I've done this particular mask of J3T, and both times I have realized I love doing the butterfly. It's super fun because as long as we get the basic swirls in, it's alright if they don't match length perfectly. The cracks are slightly off because the very first ones were free-handed, but I did my best to get the rest of them proper, and they even work to form the nose. Apparently the orange looks more yellow than I thought.

This one was a welcome relief after crying over the detailing of J-Dog's mask. Again, no metallic colors, so our silver is grey. The little black lines are there to add texture to the edges (as it turns out, none of my brushes added it in a sufficiently noticeable way), and this one looks the cleanest imo.

Last but not least, Charlie's bandanna (sunglasses painted over because, as it turns out, I continue to suck at painting and drawing glasses). The buildings are likely not accurate to the actual picture, but my reference photo did not show the actual city on the bandana so I just did some buildings, a fancy lil' LA and we're calling it an artistic interpretation. Also, check out that S. Coolest S I will ever draw in my life, got it right on the first try.

Anyways sorry that I didn't post this sooner cause I technically finished all of this yesterday evening, I have a flight soon so I am typing this up at 4:30 am at the airport.

(Tagging @vampswillhurtyou and @cutelittlenightmarethings cause both of you said you were interested and I have no idea whether or not this will show up in the main tags.)

Final pic to show what it looks like at a slight distance and with other object to provide scale. Note the paint palette thingy having 3 shades of grey in it because, again, shoestring budget and persistence substitute everything for us.

[kaciebello]

Love accusations

Masterlist George Weasley x Gryffindor! reader (fem) Summary: 3 instances where you deny dating George, and the one where you don’t. Much to Fred's dismay. warnings: Mention of sex, swearing, no use of y/n Authors note: one-shot. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) Word count: 3k

A pair of Gryffindor sat on a sofa in a secluded part of the common room.  The two had previously worked on their charms homework together, however, one had seemingly finished and moved on to a book, while the other one took avoiding it as his main mission in life. However, any attempt to get a reaction from the girl goes unnoticed by her. Disappointed he returned to doing his homework. They both fail to notice his twin approaching with their friend.

“You two ARE having sex!” Fred yells making some heads in the common room turn in their direction with curiosity.  George jumps a bit in shock and looks at his brother. Eyes widening.

“Really? George, why didn't you tell me? I would have put my book down.” Says the girl lazily not even attempting to put her book down. She was not even bothered enough to pick up her gaze from it or bothered by her friend's antics.

“ We are not!” George argues back as Fred and Lee sit down opposite the couple. That however goes flat to their ears. Because if there is something Fred loves more than testing his brothers, it's teasing his twin brother.

“Fred, the only people having sex here, are the characters in my book.” She says, turning to another page. George leans over and tries to peek whether that is true or not. The girl shuts the book with a loud bang and places it gently on the table. Now finally giving all the attention to the overly loud Gryffindor duo. Lee's hand reaches for the book but she just swats it away.

“What do you want.” She asks.

“I want, you two to admit you're dating.” He says pointing a finger between her and George.

“Not gonna happen Fred.” 

“Why not?”

“ Because we are not dating, easy as that.”

“Bullshit!” Fred yells and slams his fist onto the coffee table. She leans back into the sofa and just shakes her head dissapointly. Kicking her feet up on the coffee table and crosses her hands over her chest.

“You have no valid argument, Fred. I will not debate this with you if you have no evidence.” She says looking into Fred's eyes, knowing damn well it will fire the boy up. He narrows his eyes at her and nods as if telling her he will play her little game. Quickly he turns to Lee and they start whispering sometimes glancing at the pair. The two of them made it look like they just thought of a groundbreaking strategy in quidditch.

“ You know what you're doing, right?” George leans back and looks at the girl. Giving up on the homework at this point. She just smirks and nods. Lee and Fred turn back and simultaneously clear their throats.

“We have proof.” He says seriously and pokes Lee in his side with his elbow. The girl just raises her eyebrow before motioning them to continue. Lee sits up straight.

“ I have seen you two almost kiss in the corridor before.” He says very proud of himself. Fred started franticly nod and a smile spread across his face. Gorges's eyes widen a little at this information. The girl, however, remained unphased.

“ You can't prove that it was us. I could have been anyone.” She argues back, looking at her nails, seemingly bored. Fred's smile flatters a bit before he jumps up.

“I CAN RECOGNISE MY FACE ANYWHERE!” He yells and points at the girl. She just lifts her gaze and him.

“You didn't see us tho. Lee did. Hence, could have been anyone.” Fred's and George's faces snap to Lee who gulps very loudly. Looking nervous between the two brothers and the girl. Lee felt like in the front line of a war.

“ We walked together to the library after tho.” He says.

“ You walked together to the library after!” Fred repeats seeing this as his victory. Placing his hands on his hips and making a superhero pose. The girl just sighs and takes her legs off of the coffee table.

“ Are you jealous about me almost kissing George? Fine. I can almost kiss Lee if you want. Even you if you desire so much.”  Whine leaves Geroge as Fred and Lee watch the girl in confusion.

“What.”

“You heard me, Weasley.” She says before getting up from her comfortable spot. Both Lee and Fred move a few inches back. She just chuckles and goes to pack her things. George sees this and goes to do the same.

“Plus it couldn't be me kissing George, as I fancy someone else.” She says after picking her book from the table and placing it in her bag.

“You do?” Say all 3 boys at the same time. She just rolls her eyes at their antics and turns to leave. George hurriedly followed her.

“ Where are you going?” Fred asks as both of them get up and move toward the exit. She just flashes him a smile.

“ To almost kiss your brother in the corridor.”

—

The four of them were on their way to Hogsmeade. The snow as fallen in a thick  layer and all there was to do was some shopping. The twins wanted to buy some trinkets from Zonks, while Lee and the girl had only butter beer on their minds. Walking swiftly to get from the cold and hoping their younger siblings don't catch up on them and they would be forced to take them with. Fred and Lee led the group, while the other two were falling behind. Fred and Lee could be heard from miles away. George opted for a much quieter conversation with his partner.

“ When are we going to tell him?” asks George the girl next to him. “Don't get me wrong, it's hilarious, but I miss holding your hand.” He continues and his hand brushes over hers. Although he dubs she could feel it over her gloves. To be fair, George finds it as much fun as she does. He just sometimes misses her despite being right next to her.

“You can hold my hand whenever you want to, but, It's too much fun, it's like he's obsessed.” A smile spreads across her lips as she stops her movements and looks at the boy. He also stops and looks at the girl. Her hand extends to him as a gentle offering. He takes it as fast as he can. Walking closer to her, he places his other hand on her cheek.  Smile adored both of them, as George leaned in, Smack.

Crumbs of snowball have fallen on her face, a giggle escaped her. George wipes his head around to see his brother and friend both with loaded-up snowballs. Before he can react, two more hit him. Effectively stunning him.

“OI! Hurry up you lovebirds!” yells Lee before he and Fred run in the direction of Three Broomsticks. George just curses and runs behind them. Leaving the girl to leisurely walk and meet them there.

When she got here, all of them had already shed their outdoor layers and had butterbeers sitting in front of them. One was in a space next to George waiting for her. She took her scarf and coat off. Something perked up Fred's attention.

“Is this your way of telling us?” He says pointing between her and George. 

“Telling you what?” She asks, sitting down. Not even being able to take a sip of her drink before Fred spits other nonces.

“That you two are together.” Lee is however faster and suppresses his friend in the explanation. The girl just rolls her eyes before taking a sip. A foam mustache forms on her upper lip that she quickly wipes with the sleeve of her sweater. Momentarily stopping to progress something.

“ Guys, we have been over this.” Defends George this time. Fred just narrowed his eyes at him before pointing at the girl, who was still frozen.

“Explain this then!” He says and grabs the sleeve of the sweater she was wearing. “ This is your sweater!!” Sudden touch wakes the girl up and she retracts her hand.

“Again Fred, you can't prove that.” He looks at her in disbelief, lost for words from the sheer audacity of this girl. Groan leaves George and Lee is just laughing at his friends' antics.

“Oh? So the giant G on the front doesn't mean anything?” Recovers Fred rather quickly. George chokes on his butter beer and Lee goes to pat him on the back. The girl looks down and stretches the sweater. There is indeed a giant G on it. No dubbed Mrs. Weasly work as always. She wondered if she did it to help herself to keep track of whose laundry she was doing.

“It's just a G, could mean anything.” leaves her.

“G for George.”

“ Or G for Ginny, ya know? Your sister.” She says, raising her eyebrow at him.

“Why would you have my sister's sweater?” he asks accusingly. She just shrugs and takes another sip from her drink. 

“ Why would I have George's one? I don't like him like that.” When she says it like that it makes sense for her to have Ginnys' sweater more than Georges.

“So you do like him!” Lee jumps on the accusation train. Another groan leaves George and he finishes his drink.

“Just how I like you, and Fred, and Padma, and Harry, And-”

“ Okay, okay, I get it.” Freds gives up and takes a sip. A smirk spreads on his face. “ So tell us, who do you fancy?”

“Hmmm, well, truth to be told, he's a Gryffindor, tall, and very cheeky and his name is- WELL would you look at that! I will get us another round.” She says and gets up from her spot. Knowing better than to take Fred's bait, she walked away to the bar. She can hear Fred turning to Lee and George.

“I'm telling you it's George, You can't fight me on this one!” Georges's giggles are heard throughout the tavern. “ Motherfucker, you ain't telling us shit!”

—

A scream is heard throughout the burrow, together with fast steps going down the stairs.

Harry, Hermione, and Lee turn to the sound startled. The 3 Weasleys, however, not even looking up from their card game. Fred places one card down making Ginny frown and carefully study her own. Ron just curses under his breath.

The girl appeared first with the other twin on her toes. She stops in front of the group, eyes gleaming with victory. George stops once he notices the other people, opting to just stand behind her.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asks, Placing her own card down without even looking. Ron curses again and tries to peak at Harry's cards. He just presses them to his chest, preventing him.

“Yeah, why?” The girl asks, clearly out of breath from running from the much faster boy behind her.

“ The scream?” Harry says, not really sure he wants to join the conversation. She just waves her arms at them.

“Oh no, don't worry. It's something George did.” The boy behind her straightens at his name. Looking at his sister who seemed to be winning the game with almost no effort.

“ Oh Merlin, he finally did it. He showed her the birthday suit.” Fred says.

“and it was SMALL.” Followed Lee, Fred's head snapped to his friend, he took full offense to that. Hemione's face twists in disgust. A small ‘ew’ can be heard from Ginny before she places another card on the table. Ron makes a fake gaging sound and George had nothing better than ‘dude’. The girl laughs at this.

“Oh Lee, I love you so much,” she says and goes to hug him. George whines and stops her by grabbing her upper arm.

“I can confirm that is not true mate.” Says Fred with full confidence. George just shakes his head. Hermione decided to force her cards on Harry, who was not very happy about it, and got up.

“I'm going to make some tea, you want some?” She says to the girl, she just nods and follower her to the kitchen. 

“ Count me in!” Says Ginny as she places her last card on the table, successfully winning the game. Her brothers and friends just groan. Ron looks like he might cry at this point.

The girls moved to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was looking out the window, watching her older sons and husband work in the yard. She notices them walking into the kitchen and smiles at them. Ginny mentions something about tea and the girls sit down. After some time and bickering over what does and does not belong in tea, steaming cups were sat before them. Hermione breaks the silence.

“So, when are you gonna announce it?” Confused look from the girl, Mrs. Weasly just glances at them, seemingly paying them no mind. While she may be facing the window, her years are very much facing the three girls sitting at her dining table. Because be assured if something is going on with her children, under her roof, she is bound to know. The girls didn't even have time to answer before Ginny jumped in.

“Wait, are not just pretending to not know in front of Fred?” She asked, confused as well. Hermione stops putting sugar in her tea and fully turns to the girl. She grabs her hands into hers and looks her in the eyes.

“Are you?” The girl grows nervous. Curse Ginny and her watching people skills.

“I have no idea what you're on about Hermione.” she says with a full chest, then leans in and whispers.” Let's not talk about it in front of his mum!”

“Stop whispering, we all know something is going on between you and George. I know my brothers, and I know when they have that lovesick look.” Ginny blows on her tea before taking a sip. Somehow she manages to give both of them a pointed look. 

“I know what you look like with that look too, don't start Ginny.” says the horrified girl, still not comfortable that Mrs. Weasly is there. Ginny goes red and just looks away. Speaking of the older woman, she turns to them.

“ Who has a lovesick look?” She asks with a smile that feels a little bit too threatening to all of them, although others may see it as the sweetest one.

“You when you look at dad. What is he doing anyway.” Ginny says hoping to change the subject. The older woman just huffs, turns around, and looks out the window again. Ginny leans forward to the other two before she whispers.

“I'm just saying, let it really be my sweater you borrow next time.” A smirk on her lips when she retries. With the corner of her eye, she sees her brother trying to catch a glimpse of the embarrassed girl.

—

“Source?” Lee asks.

“ Dude, trust me,” Fred answers.

“ You know I am physically unable to do that.” The two boys were hiding behind a bush. Good view of the pair sitting on the bench.

“ I too was advised, not to trust you.” Pipes in Collin, who was dragged into this mess by an accident. The poor boy wanted a picture of that tiny firework Fred had, instead, he dragged him to this when he refused to let him borrow his camera.

“Collin, this is the talk. This is the news! I need you to take a picture of them when they kiss.” Says Fred, a creepy grin on his face. Collin scared a bit just nods his head and gets in position. After a few good minutes of spying, Fred gets impatient and turns to Lee.

“Should we find a better spot? My feet kinda hurt from squatting.” He says but then a shutter goes off. A little photo comes from the camera and Fred grabs it.

“AHA, GOT YOU!” he jumps out waving it in the air and running to the startled couple. Scaring the couple that jumps away from each other a little. Lee and Collin follow behind him.

“What are you on about Fred?” Asks him, George. Still holding the girl that had her legs on his lap. 

“ YOU TWO! KISSING! I GOT PROOF!” HE yells and shows them the picture. The girl just grabs it and looks at it. Fred is jumping up and down, hugging Collin and then Lee. Victory celebration. The girl gets up and walks to the poor younger Gryffindor. George is pulled up by Fred and forced to join a jumping hug.

“Hey Collin, can I keep this?” She asks the boy gently. He just nods, seemingly scared of the situation. The girl turns back to the three overgrown babies smile on her face. She can no longer argue about proof, as she was holding one in her hand. She turns to Collin again and tells him he can go. The boy just nods and runs away as fast as he can, very much terrified of his upperclassmen. 

 George wiggles out of the hug and makes his way to her. Cheers can be heard from his brother and friend. When they meet again, George stops right in front of her. One of his hands finds her waist and the other on her neck. They stay like this for a few seconds seemingly in their word, not noticing the cheers dying down. He leans in, their lips brush, when...

“Not in front of me Forge!” Yells Fred with the girl in his arms, running away with laughter, followed by Lee. George was frozen in his position, the girl missing from his arms. George shakes his head at his brothers' antics. Now that he looks at it, maybe living in denial wasn't the worst thing. Because if there is anything his twin loves more than teasing other people, is teasing him.

[heavenlyvision]

Mattress

Word count: 2.1k

Pairing: Raiden x afab!Reader

A/N: I don't have any excuses, I am apparently feral tonight and decided to write a short fic for Raiden that is basically all smut. I feel bad that he tied in the poll but lost to the wheel :(( Have this as a peace offering <33

Summary: Raiden's bed is more comfortable than your own, which means you are always in it, much to his dismay.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, pwp, p in v sex, no pronouns used, praise, Gentle!Raiden, eye contact, no use of y/n

The mattress of Raiden’s bed is significantly more comfortable than your own, something you tell him frequently. Something he tells you is not true every time you bring it up but continues to remain true to you. Whether it’s because it’s actually more comfortable or if it’s because it’s Raiden’s bed, you aren’t sure but it’s comfy here. Safe.

“Go back to your own bed,” he complains from beside you.

You pretend to think hard, humming, “Hmm no, I am comfy here.”

He’s exasperated with you; he just wants to read alone in bed and you are hijacking his peace and quiet. You think right about now he is regretting letting you live with him but you needed a roomie and he is one of your oldest friends, so he caved and let you stay with him.

“I can’t do anything alone anymore,” he sighs.

You huff out at him, “You can to! I am just having a little nap.”

“Do it in your own room,” he complains.

Whinging at him, you protest, “But my mattress is lumpy and weird, plus I don’t like sleeping alone.”

“Do what you want, you are going to anyway,” he acquiesces, this conversation going nowhere.

You smile smugly, proud of yourself, he always caves with you and now you get to nap comfortably in his bed beside him. You weren’t lying, your bed is genuinely lumpy and weird and you prefer sleeping next to him, your sleep is better when you know he’s beside you.

“You always give in,” you prod at his side, gloating.

“Do not push it,” he warns but you still poke at his side, “I thought you wanted to nap?” He asks, slapping your hand away.

You ignore him and sit up, continuing to tease and poke at him. He’s generally difficult to get a reaction out of, too ‘mature’ to stoop to your level but every now and again you push his buttons just right and he’ll retaliate. It’s always fun to watch.

Apparently, today he’s extra touchy and he shoots up, grabbing you and pushing you back on the mattress. He holds you down under him, your wrists being pushed into the mattress.

“You are meant to be napping,” he scowls at you, his face close to your own.

His proximity makes you nervous, this does not bode well for your crush on him. You’re stunned as you look up at him, not expecting him to hold you down like this and certainly not expecting him to do it so effortlessly.

“What is wrong? You normally have so much to say,” his brows are still furrowed at you.

You try to struggle against his hold, attempting to free yourself. Your attempts are entirely unsuccessful, your movements not even affecting his hold on you even a little bit. Which makes you frown at him, the annoyed expression on your face and unsuccessful escape has Raiden’s features lighting up. Seemingly pleased at your realisation of your defeat.

You ask him, “Can you get off me now?”

“Hmm no, I am comfy here,” he smiles smugly at you, repeating your words from before.

Your frown deepens at him but he seems to have done a one-eighty, overly pleased with himself while you are now annoyed with him.

As you gaze at him you can’t help but drift over all of his features, the smugness in his eyes, the definition of his nose, the softness of his lips. You quickly flick your eyes back up to his, hoping he didn’t notice your wandering gaze. But he did, he always notices everything you do, you can’t make an out of the usual decision or move, he notices and he always checks if you’re okay.

When it comes to your feelings you can’t tell if he’s ignoring them or dim but with the knowing look in his eyes now, he seems to have finally caught onto your desire for him at the very least. His head ducks down closer to yours, his lips lightly grazing your own, the slight touch makes you dizzy. You’ve liked him for so long and now he’s so close to you, his skin touching yours.

His lips move against yours as he checks with you, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please?”

Your confirmation has him pressing his lips to yours properly, it’s so soft and so caring and so him. He has you melting for him just from a tender kiss and you really wish you could touch him but he’s still holding you down. His lips are gentle and searching, learning how you like to be kissed. One of his hands leaves your wrist to grasp the side of your face, his lips the smallest bit more forceful as he holds your face.

The increase in his urgency has a light gasp pulling from you and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Your free hand reaches up and holds on the side of his face, pulling him down to you more, wanting more from him. Craving all of him, and he provides, his kiss becomes fervent and full and it has you lightheaded. Small whines are slipping from you at the way he kisses you, he’s kissing you like you’re delicate, trying so hard to be gentle but being overwhelmed by his and your own need.

When he pulls back you’re breathless, you’ve never been kissed so attentively, so fully. The desire you feel for him is unmatched and you’ve been so carefully pulled apart by his lips alone. His thumb strokes high on your cheekbone, his eyes captivated by you, they keep flicking back to your lips. Waiting for you to catch your breath so he can kiss you again.

You’re still restrained, hand struggling under his hold to remind him he’s still got you pinned, he releases you at your movements and both your arms reach up, grabbing behind his neck and pulling him down to you completely. His lips crash against yours, eager to kiss you again, his tongue immediately in your mouth again. Exploring you carefully, attentive to how you react to him.

One of his hands slides down your body and holds onto your thigh, pulling it up and hooking it onto his hip. You use the position to your advantage and pull his hips to yours, your core pressed against his crotch. The shock of your movement has a surprised sound exiting Raiden, he moves his lips off yours and rests his forehead against you.

“We can stop,” he tells you, giving you an out. Not wanting to push you into something you don’t want.

You pull him close to you and grind against the bulge in his pants, “I don’t want to.”

The motion has him closing his eyes, having to control himself momentarily, “Then, undress.”

His words bleed with need and desire, you can tell his control waned thin for a second, his tone has an underlying commanding manner to it. It has you throbbing for him. He lets you push him back so you can undress, you slip out of your pants before tugging your shirt off.

“These too,” he comments, lifting the waistband of your panties before letting them snap back against you. The shock of it making you jump.

He had pulled his own shirt and pants off while you did, both equally undressed, “You first,” you retort.

Your apprehension makes him smile at you, he tugs his underwear off first, completely bare in front of you. His cock fully erect for you, the sight of it has your insides twisting, he’s large and thick and, “I don’t know if you’ll fit,” you observe.

“I am not that big,” he dismisses.

You look at him incredulously, “Humble to a fault.”

He shakes his head at you but taps your leg, reminding you to take off your own underwear, which you do, nervously. Chucking them to the floor when they’re off, Raiden shuffles closer to you again, between your legs.

“If you are worried, I will be gentle.” He assures you.

You look at him coquettishly, “You don’t have to be.”

His eyes shut, gathering himself, “I am going to be gentle.” He replies, it’s not a question.

“Okay,” you answer.

He slides the head of his cock through your folds, gathering all of your slick on him. Getting his dick wet to make the stretch easier on you, his movements have you twitching against him. His eyes are alight with satisfaction, enjoying your bodies reaction to him and his minimal touch. He notches himself against your pussy hole before gingerly pushing forwards, the stretch a lot for you.

He notices your struggle to take him, and he rubs his thumb over your clit, the pleasurable stimulation has you relaxing against him. Enough so he can push the head of his cock into you, the feeling has you both sighing.

“You are tight,” he groans, struggling slightly with the grip you have on him.

You argue back, “You’re just big.”

He chuckles a bit but pushes into you more, his cock is a lot to take but he eventually has you stuffed full of him. Your cunt taking him to the hilt, you’re so wet for him that you’re practically drooling on his dick.

Once he’s fully inside you, he leans down, pressing all of himself against you. Skin to skin. The contact has your heart soaring, feeling so full of him and loving the closeness. He looks you directly in the eyes, it’s intense and has you shying away from him, but he pulls your face back so you’re looking him in the eyes.

He watches your face carefully as he pulls out of you, his pace slow and steady, “You are beautiful.” He compliments you as you take his fat cock.

Your legs wrap around his waist, holding onto him. He holds your face still, making sure you keep your eyes on his, wanting to watch your face as you fall apart for him. His cock is rocking back and forth into you smoothly, never speeding up or slowing down, keeping pace. The unwavering manner of his strokes has you craving more but loving what you’re getting. Not wanting him to change anything and wanting so much more, he’s driving you crazy.

His expression is pleased as he watches the way you melt for him, the way your eyes glaze over, and mouth opens letting soft sounds of whimpers and moans fall from it. He offers you compliments the whole time he rocks into you.

“Doing so good for me, look so pretty right now… You always look so pretty,” he murmurs to you, his own eyes glazing over with the pleasure your cunt gives him.

You try to tell him how good you feel but you’re a bit scatter-brained at the moment, “Raiden, you feel –mmph– good, filling me so much –hah–”

He doesn’t seem to mind, enjoying the lost look in your eyes and incoherent compliments. His thrusts are still holding steady but you’re getting closer, his consistent pace working you up gradually. You’re throbbing around him, close to the edge. He’s twitching inside you, close to his own end as well.

“Want to cum at the same time,” his hand reaches down and rubs circles into your clit. His eyes stay on your face, never wanting to look away. The fingers on your clit have you right on the edge, about to fall off. He tells you, “Now, cum for me.”

And you do, very suddenly, and he cums as you do. Grinding into you as he releases his sticky cum inside you, it’s filling you completely. He’s still watching you, carefully taking in your expression as you come down from your orgasm. His own face pleasure filled, eyes lazy and content.  

It occurs to you that you had been subconsciously waiting for his permission to cum, he has a soft domineering way about him that compels you. He’s polite as he tells you what to do, so much so that it doesn’t even seem like he’s telling you what to do.

“You look beautiful when you cum,” he compliments again, genuine as he does.

His compliment is embarrassing and has your cheeks heating up with it, he smiles at you and leans down to press a tender kiss against your lips. He kisses you for a moment, enjoying the closeness of being inside you while pressing his lips against yours, coming down from your highs together.

Eventually, he parts from you, careful as he pulls out. He rolls onto his back and takes you with him, leaving you resting against his chest. He’s comfortable, maybe more comfortable than his mattress.

“Is my mattress really better than yours or was this always your end goal?” His chest vibrates under you with his words.

You laugh a bit, “Your mattress is actually better, this was good too though.”

He hums a bit, “I have a feeling you will be in my bed even more frequently now.”

“Will that be my fault or yours?” You tease.

“Mine,” he answers, kissing the top of your head.

⊹₊ ⋆

[acapelladitty]

lost little lamb

Pairing: Arkham Shadow Scarecrow/Reader

Summary: Thrown in Arkham Asylum for investigating corruption in Gotham, you find yourself assigned to Dr. Jonathan Crane and discover that some corruptions run deeper than you could ever have anticipated.

(warnings for: abuse of power, rough oral sex, misuse of doctor/patient dynamics, mild degredation, come swallowing, very dubious consent, deepthroating, sex for freedom exchange, age gap, implied future abuse)

Fic Masterlist

Link to my AO3

In the hour since you had been unceremoniously snatched up by the GCPD and dumped at the doors of Arkham Asylum, it would be fair to say that you had went through somewhat of a mental journey. From confusion, to fear, to rage, as you realised that your recent outspoken comments about the corruption within Mayor Sharp's government may have had more consequences than you could have anticipated.

Flung into a dingy holding cell, the guard grunted something about waiting for a doctor as you were left to rub at your own arms to soothe the ache of his rough touch. The guards here were known for their rumoured brutality and, after being pretty much forcibly dragged through the halls to this room, you had to say that the rumours weren't unfounded.

Your feet kicking out at the metal legs of the table which sits beyween the two chairs of the holding cell spark a flash of discomfort in your toes as they catch the edge unpleasantly.

"Fuck! Ow."

"Language, child."

Jerking in place at the unexpected voice, your face snaps up to meet the doctor who had been assigned to your 'case'. Your first impression of him is that he is tall, very tall, and his presence seems to fill the space around him despite how unassuming his hunched stance is.

Rail thin, his wrists and neck visibly showing each vein which hides below the skin, the majority of his body is covered by a dark brown suit. It's old-fashioned and a closer look allows your eyes to drag across a six-buttoned vest and bolo tie which only add to the overall stuffiness of his appearance. The only light coloured material is the white shirt which encircles his neck, the collar looking overly starched and uncomfortable.

The whole ensemble is busy but classy and you can appreciate the quirky little touches that enhance it. But your eyes keep flitting to his wrists and the thin hands which are wrapped around the leather briefcase clutched within them.

You had always liked men with thin hands.

Glancing back at his face, a slight flush touches at your cheeks as you take in his features. Even relaxed, his forehead remains marred by thin lines and his dark hair is cropped short to his head. Thin, circular glasses are perched on the end of a proud nose and his eyebrows are bushy and unkempt behind the frames. The faintest hint of a shadow ghosts across his cheeks, the stubble threatening to break through the skin, and as he approaches your seated position you could see that his eyes are dark behind the glasses.

Despite the situation, you felt a slight flutter of interest as the doctor deposits himself in the chair opposite you with a definite stiffness. His age is difficult to determine but he's at least in his early 50's.

"My name is Dr. Jonathan Crane and I have been assigned to your case." His voice is velvety and deep, his inflection pitching on certain syllables but any follow-up is interrupted by your own frantic spluttering.

"My case? I shouldn't be here! I haven't- haven't done anything and they sent me here for some trumped up charges of- I don't even fucking know what."

"Language." The doctor, Crane, chides again but this time there is a harshness to his tone that stills you in an instant as you settle your hands against the table and breathe deeply while he continues. "Your case alleges that you are suffering delusions and making threats against city officials."

"Bullsh-" Catching yourself, you kill the word on your lips and instead grimace at Crane as he surveys you with an empty expression. "I'm only here because Mayor Sharp knows that I know what he's done."

"And these allegations?"

"Can't be proven. All the evidence has been tampered with or destroyed."

Crane sniffs at that.

"Convenient."

"Hey, buddy, I don't make the rules."

His eyes narrow and the sensation of being truly pinned by his gaze makes an uncomfortable heat roll through your body, your ass squirming against the hard plastic of the seat as you blink across at him.

"You will address me as Doctor Crane." His tone refusing to allow any argument, you find yourself cowering as your tongue licks at your lower lip.

"Yes, Doctor Crane."

"Better. You, at least, seem able to understand basic instructions. Now, let's discuss the problem here. A beautiful young woman like yourself should proably know to let sleeping lions lay. Our beloved Mayor cannot allow disturbances of the peace. Not with the re-election brewing."

A sinking feeling settles in your chest at his words.

He was as corrupt as the rest of them.

Before any further thoughts could poison your mind, you startle in place as the leather of his shoe brushes your ankle.

"Dr. Crane?" You shiver, staring at him with confusion on your gaze.

"I believe you, little lamb. I believe each of those claims you have made. But these are dangerous men who run this city and I would be risking my job by not dealing with such scandalous accusations."

"But you believe me! We could go! We could ta-"

"I will be doing nothing." Crane cuts you off with a sharp incline of his head. "The most I can offer is to facilitate your release from this asylum. The case of a new potential inmate slipping through the cracks is not unheard of."

Hope alights in your chest and you grin despite yourself, thinking of getting the hell out of here and just trying to escape this shithole of a city. Metropolis would be safe. Information could be gathered from afar and brought back to Gotham to bring dow-

"But there is a price for my assistance."

Shocked out of your thoughts, you meet his eyes once more and a fresh shiver rolls across your body as you take in the sudden hunger there; the deep brown appearing almost darker due to the predatory glint which sits within them.

"I don't have any money."

"I have no need of money. What I want is something more," Crane pauses with a heavy weight to the words, "base. Your unsubtle appraisals of my person have not went unnoticed and I feel I am owed some recompense for your earlier disrespect."

It takes a moment, but when understanding of his words alights on your mind it draws a vaguely disgusted look from your narrowed eyes as your mouth falls open in surprise.

"What?"

"Do not act innocent. You know what is being asked of you. Crawl beneath this table, service me for my troubles, and I will see to your release. Otherwise, you will be left here to rot."

Unable to believe this was happening as a million thoughts rattle through your brain at once, anger and disgust are at the forefront of your swirling emotions as a hot flush overtakes your cheeks.

He was serious.

"This isn't- this isn't right! This is rape! You're forcing me t-"

"Rape is for madmen and wild dogs. This is a choice. You are free to refuse, little lamb."

While not exactly snapping, there is a harshness to Crane's voice which sparks anxiety in your chest as you gaze around the room and note the lack of cameras or other recording equipment.

"And you swear you will sign the release papers?" You confirm, hearing your own voice as though from afar.

"I will see to it that you are released from this room." He answers and you can almost hear a twinge of excitement in his deadpan tone.

Pushing back on the chair as it screeches to protest the movement, you drop to the floor and adjust your clothing quickly - your jeans protecting your knees from the cool flooring as something like a sigh emits from the still-seated Crane.

Crawling to him below the table, hot shame trickling down your spine with every inch traversed, you watch as his slender hands are quick to open his fly and free his cock. He's half-hard already, his cock curving heavily to the right as you rest your hands on his knees and pause.

"Closer than that. I don't know what you expect to achieve from my knees. If you wish to buy your freedom from this place then the price is clear."

His voice, so low and rough, drags a shudder from you as you shuffle forwards, careful to dip your head below the table to keep the metal from clashing against your skull.

Hidden away by his slacks at the base of his cock, you can make out a thick patch of pubic hair - the colour matching the sleek brown which coats his head but with more grey peppered through. His length is long and on the thinner side, mimicking his body almost like a parody, and a prominent vein runs along the shaft.

One hand staying locked around his knees, you grab at his cock with your other hand - jerking your fingers along his thin length as you pull it towards your mouth. He's clean at least, his cock holding a slightly masculine smell that didn't turn your stomach in the slightest. A inhale of pleasure meets your ears as your fingers trace along his cockhead and you jump in place as he smacks the metal table with his open palm.

"Make haste, little lamb. If anyone were to walk in and discover us then, well, I suppose you may have more than one problem to deal with."

Sensing the danger in his words, you pick up pace as you lock you lips over his cock and roll your tongue across his cockhead. Immediately, the taste of his pre-cum floods your mouth and the saltiness of it causes you to cough around his cock as you continue to swirl your tongue along the head.

He openly grunts as you accept more of his cock into your throat, swallowing around the first few inches as you hollow out your cheeks. Using your hand to guide him, you flatten your tongue ti lick a sordid line up the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft - determined to please him and hold up your half of the bargain.

Your panties feel uncomfortable against your cunt as the growing moisture there makes the fabric feel damp. Something about how nasty and wrong this whole debacle was only served to heighten that spark of arousal which sat low in your gut and made your cunt ache as it remained ignored.

"You swallow me down with ease despite being such a hesitant rabbit. Maybe I should have bargained for some of your other services since you seem skilled in pleasing men - up there with the whores who walk the Bowrey when the daylight flees."

Moaning around his cock at the degrading words, you push down any anger which they ignite and focus on the task at hand as you alternate your breathing with accepting another two inches of his cock - the length now beginning to breach your throat as you bob your head along it.

You glance up at Crane and your eyes meet past his proud nose, the predatory gleam more prominent than ever as he takes your eye contact as an invitation to buck his hips slightly, pushing his cock into your mouth unexpectedly and causing you to cough and splutter at the extra intrusion.

"Careful." He warns with a twisted smirk curling the ends of his thin lips. "If you make too much noise then it may raise suspicion. And I cannot imagine you're interested in providing the same services to the guards to buy their silence."

Shaking your head, you blink away the slight wetness in your eyes which the coughing has sparked and tighten your grip on his legs as you fill your mouth with his cock once more.

He builds a leisurely pace, allowing his cock to pass through your lips in such a way that you feel every inch as it scores across your tongue and presses at the back of your throat. A sharp hand drops to press insistently on the back of your head and you moan around his length as he guides your movements with splayed fingers - his sharp nails digging crescents into your scalp as he fucked himself between your lips.

Teasing clearly over, he takes what he wants from you with no care for your comfort as you are forced to scramble for breath as he pulls himself free for only a moment before slamming back within your mouth.

Your own cunt feeling neglected as you squeeze your thighs and feel the dampness of your panties, you once again sneak a look up at him and take in the slight baring of his teeth as he watches his cock disappear between your lips. His hips now moving in tandem with your skull as he jerks you along his cock, you can tell from the pre-cum which coats your mouth and the frantic nature of his movements that he's close.

"Enjoy your reward, little lamb." Crane growls, his words stuttering slightly as he pulls you hard across his length. He comes with a muted groan, his cock pumping its warm release down your throat as you panic and swallow desperately around him.

You hadn't expected him to come in your mouth and disgust swirls in your gut alongside the pesky arousal which makes your head swim with confusion. Fingers digging into his thighs, your grip tightens as the need to breathe makes genuine panic alight in your heaving chest but as soon as it begins, his hand releases your head and you pull free of his cock with a choking splutter.

Wiping off your eyes with the back of your hand, his cock is visibly soaked with your saliva and what little of his release you had been unable to swallow. His hands are quick to tuck his wilting cock back within his slacks as he reclines in his chair, his hawk-like gaze quick to drop past his own body to fix you in place once more.

"More than acceptable."

A glowing review but one you can't even really process as his foot taps at your knee expectantly, wordlessly telling you to return to your seat in a way that makes you feel like a dumb child being scolded as he continues.

"Fix yourself, child."

Body shuddering with pent-up adrenaline as the stress of the day finally catches up with you, your lips feel puffy and there's a rawness in your throat which you cough away gently - certain that you will be waking up tomorrow with a raspy tone.

"So what happens now?"

The million dollar question.

Sitting as stiffly as ever, absolutely no hint that he had just viciously abused your throat and situation for his own sexual satisfaction, Crane stood up from his seat with a graceless squint in your direction.

"Don't worry, little lamb. We'll see about having you released as soon as possible."

Striding back to the single door which worked as both an entrance and exit to the room, he paused in the doorway to turn his head back and offer you a curt nod - something heated playing in his dark eyes as they roved across your anxiety-ridden and shuddering frame.

"When the guards move you, they will place you in another cell for a short while. Only until the paperwork had processed for your release. I suggest you give them no trouble."

And with that he slipped through the door, allowing the lock to click in place as he disappeared with one final look towards your now-hopeful gaze.

Glancing down the hall, Crane caught the attention of the nearest guard with a short wave of his arm.

"This patient is exhibiting signs of delusion which manifest as extreme sexual fantasy. She has fixated on being unwilfully abused by those around her and may make false accuasations as such. Possible symptoms of nymphomania are also present. Move and keep her isolated in one of the solitary rooms towards the end of the east wing and ensure that only I have access to her cell to prevent any more scandal leaking from this wretched place."

Nodding his understanding, the guard tightened his grip on his belt as he rocked back on his heels. "Yes, Dr. Crane, hearing you loud and clear."

His cock still twitching due to to the afterglow of her powerful mouth, Crane allowed a cruel smile to tilt the edge of his lips. His office, neatly situated at the very end of the east wing, would benefit greatly from having such a pliant patient so closely within his grasp. Mayor Sharp was very clear on his instructions in how to deal with those who would upset the status quo and he was happy to play his part.

Her paperwork in hand, he would see to it that she received the proper treatment which was required to cure her of her ailments - starting with ridding her of her foolish optimism in expecting help from a monster such as himself.

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 17 - Lavender 2

Okay. So this is part 2 of Shanks and his visit to your island. Mihawk's reaction will be out when I finish up with some editing! Peppermint Tea has become waayyyyy bigger than I ever thought it could be. Very proud honestly since this is definitely my biggest work so far.

Anyway! I hope you enjoy! Plot stuff happens and Shanks is a big flirt.

Warnings! Some drinking and Shanks is a flirt.

Masterlist

Shanks and his crew stay on your island for an entire week. You are properly introduced to his entire crew and find that while far more rowdy than what you are used to, the Red-Haired Pirates were good people. They welcomed you with open arms, telling you all sorts of stories as booze and food flowed freely around. You avoided any foul-smelling liquid and declined Shanks’ offer of his sweeter drink called sake. You just didn’t feel comfortable drinking without Dracule with you.

Thankfully, the crew and their captain accepted your rejection with ease and supplied you with sweet juices that stained your lips a dark red. Shanks couldn’t keep his eyes away from you, gaze stuck on the way you licked your overly red lips of any leftover pomegranate juice. He watches you across the large bonfire that sits in the center of the circle, admiring the way the flames make your eyes glow in the night.

The captain drinks from his shallow bowl, enjoying the way the warm sake burns his throat. Hank whines beside him, and Shanks smirks down at the shaggy dog. The mutt had not left his side for almost his entire stay here, and it made him wonder if Hawkeye had a soft spot for the pup, too.

He frowns when he thinks of Dracule, and a curl of guilt throbs in his chest for half a second before he shoves it away. Shanks already knew that you would tell the warlord about his sudden visitation the moment Mihawk stepped on your island. He wasn't doing anything he wasn't supposed to do, only enjoying the company of a lovely, lonely young woman, but he remembered the way that his old friend had spoken about you.

Shanks certainly agreed with everything Mihawk said, but mostly, he remembered how his friend's voice had turned soft and affectionate for this mysterious woman. And then the fierce anger when Shanks poked fun at him. Mihawk cared about you unlike anything else in this wretched world, but Shanks was a greedy man, and he could tell that you had more than enough room in your heart for the both of them.

The Emperor shifts in the sand, reaching for his bottle of sake and pouring himself another cupful. He would never do anything to take you away from Dracule. He wasn't that kind of man. Especially when he heard you speak of his old friend earlier, carefully omitting his name in worry of getting Dracule in trouble with someone, but the way your cheeks lit up, and your expression turned to one of wonder spoke of how much you adored the older man.

“Whatcha thinking about, Captain. I can see the gears turning from here,” Beckman questions from where he sits on an empty crate near the redhead. The sharpshooter has been watching his Captain make eyes at you all night, and he wondered when Shanks was going to make his move. It wasn't like the other man to lollygag on something he wanted.

Shanks huffs at his friend, raising his occupied hand guilty, though he breaks and snickers, “You caught me, Benn.”

He finishes his sake and shakes any remaining liquid from it before setting it on top of the bottle, done with it for now.

“Remember when we ran into Hawkeye? About a year ago now?” Shanks asks and waits for Benn to nod before he continues, “He told me about a woman he met, said that she was something special. That's her.”

Beckman huffs to himself and then rolls his eyes, “Of course we'd somehow run into her. Not planning anything dumb are you, Shanks?”

The redhead glares at his first mate, pouting at the condescending way his name is spoken, “Hey. I'm not that much of a jerk,” he grumbles and then softens, calculating gaze landing back on you.

“But this place. You can't deny that it isn't peaceful, Benn. Different, almost out of a story book its so far removed from the rest of the world. I want to come back, I want to get to know her.”

His first mate raises a brow and drinks deeply from his bottle of rum. His captain was certainly a menace, but he also had a good point. There was something about this place that relaxed even his old bones, “What about Hawkeye?”

Shanks shrugs, “He can get over it. I'm not trying to steal her away, but _ seems lonely. I want to be her friend.”

Benn scoffs. Yeah, right. He knew how his Captain was. He fell hard and fast, and you obviously had his attention, “Sure, Captain. Just don't do anything stupid.”

Shanks stands and shoves at Benn's shoulder good-natured, “Yee of little faith, my friend. Now excuse me, the crew is singing my favorite song, and I want to dance with our host.”

The Emperor doesn't wait for his friend to respond. Instead, he is already sliding his way across the beach to stop beside you. You look up at him when his shadow eclipsed the roaring fire, a big grin on your face as you sway back and forth to the pirate shanty the crew slurred.

“Dance with me?” Shanks offers, and you take his hand with ease, laughing when the redhead pulls you to your feet so quickly that you collide with his chest. He basks in the coolness of your body for half a second, and then Shanks is pulling you away from your spot to follow the rest of his crew in the manic dance they had going around the fire.

Gather up all of the crew

It's time to ship out Bink's brew

Sea wind blows, to where, who knows

The waves will be out guide

Shanks twirls you around, easily keeping pace with you and the rest of the men as the song continues. You look radiant as you dance around, loose shouldered and free in a way you hadn't been when Sanks had first shown up. You laugh when Shanks loses his footing in the sand, grabbing him by the wrist to keep him from falling.

He takes this as an opportunity to pull you close to him, pressing you under his arm as his hand settles along the curve of your waist. He watches your face explode in a blush, but you aren't fighting him away, so Shanks counts that as a win.

O'er across the the oceans tide

Rays of sunshine far and wide

Birds they sing, of cheerful things

In circles passing by

A guilty look flashes over your face when the song comes to an end, and you are quick to pull away from Shanks. You remind yourself that while this man is nice and has been cheerful his entire stay, you didn't know him. He is still a stranger to you, but you wouldn't mind seeing him again. You have caught the redhead watching you, and the look in his chocolate eyes reminded you of your warlord early on in your relationship with him. It makes you nervous.

Mihawk flashes through your mind, and the guilt intensifies. Was it wrong to want to get to know Shanks when you already had Mihawk? Or was wanting more too selfish? You didn't know, and it ate you up inside at the thought.

“Everything okay, Doll?” Shanks asks when he sees you draw into yourself. Frost has crusted over on your exposed shoulders, and he follows after you when you escape from the crew and start back up the path to your home.

“I'm fine! Just going to the bathroom,” your voice is too high pitched for it to be truthful, so Shanks steps up his pace and reaches out to carefully curl his hand around your arm, stopping you in place.

“Hey, no. We were just having fun. What's going on?” The Emperor presses and walks around so that he can face you. Your eyes are teary, and the sight sends a shock of panic through his body, “Woah, what's wrong, Babygirl? Why ya crying?”

His concern just makes you feel worse about it all, and snow begins to fall, making it hard for you to see the man in front of you. His hand is warm on your arm, though, and you reluctantly lean into the hold.

“I don't know if it's a good idea for you to be my friend,” you blurt suddenly, and then quickly bite your lip from embarrassing yourself further.

Shanks cocks a brow at you, confusion evident on his face, “What do you mean?”

You shuffle in place. You have kept quiet about Dracule. You weren't sure why. Maybe you wanted to try and keep your warlord safe, but you couldn't lie anymore.

“You are a very nice man, Shanks, but I don't want you to get the wrong idea. The man I keep talking about, his name is Dracule Mihawk, and we are…a thing. He's told me about you, warned me about you really, called you a menace, but I could still hear how fond he was of you.” You are ranting, but Shanks is patient and waits it out. He could tell that you weren't done yet.

“I don't know your past, but I know that the two of you know each other, and I can't risk the happiness I have with Dracule. I know that the two of you haven't seen eye to eye in a long time, and I don't want to be another reason for any more tension.”

Shanks is silent for half a second before he bursts out laughing, doubling over and clutching his stomach in his glee. Oh, you sweet thing! You were worried about ruining the friendship he and Hawkeye shared. How precious you were!

“You are adorable, Babygirl,” Shanks crows and draws your shocked form close to him, shivering when his exposed chest meets your frozen nose, “Mihawk will huff and puff like a rooster, but in the end? He'll forgive you. I'll even go track him down myself and tell him what happened if you want me to?”

“What? No, no, you don't need to do all that,” you quickly deny and shove away from his chest to look up at him in panic. You needed to be the one to tell Mihawk, for you can imagine the ensuing fight that would most likely happen, “And how would you know Dracule won't be mad at me?”

Shanks gives you a smug grin and sniffs pretentiously, “Trust me, Sweetheart. I've known Hawkeye for a long time and heard the way he spoke about you. I can promise that he won't be too upset with you. Me? I'm a different story, but it's going to take a lot more than just getting to know you for the respect we have for one another to go away.”

You find yourself somewhat appeased by that. It was true that the two men have known one another far longer than you have, so it makes sense to you to take Shanks' word. You sigh heavily and nod, conceding.

“Alright, ugh. If you are sure, Shanks,” you grumble, but you feel much better about this than you did just a moment ago, and give the redhead a grateful smile.

“See, that's the spirit, Doll!” Shanks matches your grin, “Stop worrying that pretty head of yours and come back to the party, yeah?”

You roll your eyes at the redhead, but nod anyway, “Okay, just a little longer, and then I'm going to bed. You and your crew party too much for me.”

Shanks snickers at you and tugs you back down the footpath and back to the beach and his crew. He sits back near his sake, and you sit with him, content to watch the others have fun for now.

It's hours later that Shanks feels a weight thunk into his side. He looks over and sees that you have passed out, and the sight makes his heart only grow even more fond of you. He stands and then bends to scoop you up, difficult with one arm, but not impossible. He balances the now empty sake bottle and cup on your sleeping form and shuffles back up the path.

Hank follows after him, leading the way up to the cottage, and shoves the door open with a heavy paw. Shanks snickers and steps inside your home, following the shaggy dog to your bedroom. He stops short when he meets a pair of glaring golden eyes.

A big fluffy orange cat sits in the middle of the bed, the only occupant of the house that Shanks had yet to meet. He is careful of any wayward claws as he lays you down in the bed, sitting his empty sake bottle on the end table, then sitting down with a huff and a small smile when you groan in your sleep and roll to your side.

Shanks gazes at you with soft eyes, reaching forward to tuck a fallen strand of hair from your face with a sigh. You look lovely even in sleep, and the redhead aches to stay here with you, but then he would be bad, and you probably wouldn't want him around anymore.

The captain stands with a sigh, and pulls the blankets up to your chin, “Sleep well, Babygirl,” he murmurs and then he is gone, shutting the door of your home with a soft click. Shanks would make sure to come see you in the morning before he and his crew left.

@writingmysanity @kenkenmaaa @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar

[i05wook]

rest well - park gunwook

Pairing: bf! Gunwook x fem! reader

Genre: comfort, fluff

Wc: 587

Warnings: female reader, periods, mentions of nausea, crying

Summary: When Gunwook’s partner is suffering on their period with the worst cramps ever, Gunwook is determined to do whatever he can to help them through shark week. 

Author’s notes: I 100% believe that 1) Gunwook would give the best hugs ever, the man's just a giant teddy bear in my head 2) I feel like he’s the type of person to always be warm, particularly his hands. I’m writing this cause i’m literally in so much pain right now on my period. I had to be somewhat self indulgent for once in a while. 

It was early on a Sunday morning, and there you were, unable to move from the position 

you were in; burrowed deep into your duvet, your arm wrapped tightly over your stomach, trying to provide some relief from the agonising pain of your period cramps. However, no matter which way you laid in bed, the cramps continued to rush over you, bringing waves of nausea and eliciting tears to envelop your eyelashes. 

You were in so much pain that every time you tried to stand up from your bed, you were hit with another surge of nausea. The tides of nausea meant that it was near impossible for you to get out of bed, never mind making it to the kitchen in order to fill your hot water bottle up. All you could do to distract yourself from the pain was sleep, cuddled up with your little black and white tabby kitten, Oreo. She laid over your stomach, almost acting like your hot water bottle, and this was enough to help lull you into a light sleep. 

It was unknown exactly how long you had been asleep for, lying in the same position. However, when you heard the sound of your front door closing, shortly followed by the slow creak of your bedroom opening, you poked your head over the duvet. From behind your door, your adorable boyfriend slowly peered his head out, praying that you would remain undisturbed if you were sleeping. As soon as he saw you, his adorable gummy smile snuck up on his face, growing even larger when you reached both arms in his direction

He wandered over to where you laid in your bed, and sat down in the bed next to you. As soon as he was sat, he looked over at you, and instantly you buried your face into his abdomen. “Hey darling, are you doing okay today?” Gunwook asked while caressing your hair. You don’t know what or why it happened, but the next thing you know, you're crying into his stomach. 

“Hey darling, don’t cry my love, “ he said leaning down to kiss the back of your head, all while stroking your hair in an attempt to soothe your crying. He knew that you often got overly emotional while on your period, so he was well versed in calming you in these situations. 

Once your crying calmed pretty soon after it started, Gunwook stood up from the bed, so that he could lie down properly next to you, his arm wrapping around your waist, and applying just the right amount of pressure on your tummy. The boy was consistently warm like a heat pad, but he also always gave the best hugs, in particular, back hugs. Gunwook’s back hugs were some of the best things in the world. The warmth provided by his body almost instantly soothed any form of back pain you had been suffering from, and the pressure of his arm across your stomach helped enormously in lessening the horrendous cramps you had been enduring all day. 

Gunwook’s presence behind you helped calm you into a much needed rest whilst he played with your hair and whispered countless affirmations in your ear. The last thing you managed to hear before you fell deep into your slumber caused your heart to flutter. 

“My darling, I’m so proud of how strong you are as a woman dealing with this suffering. If only I could take it all away, I would be honoured to. Rest well my sweet girl.” 

status: open 

@bambisgirl @enhacolor @acaiasahi @duolingofanaccount @slytherinshua @redm4ri @enluv @jaelaxies

©bobariki 2023

[creaturefeaster]

Can you tell us more about Debbie??? Because she is my favorite character!!! :D

DEBBIE!! Absolutely >:3

Debbie is my tiny energetic ball of sass, she's loud she's proud and she's so much more fearless than a lot of people give her credit for. People, in the universe I mean.

She's the youngest at 17 coming on 18, and the shortest, and she's often perceived as immature and overly unrealistic, but only because she's so straightforward and blunt about her thoughts and opinions. She does not wait to blurt out her own plan or her own suspicions, but rarely do a lot of people take her seriously. She often needs Vilmr as a back up for support to her word. So, like, she tends to be pretty fussy as a result of not being respected by the group at large.

In her own friend circle she is very used to being the leading voice of things-- her bestie Samantha is quiet, easygoing and very passive, her close second Vilmr is serious and a bit blunt himself, but he doesn't like to be put in the spotlight, and Michael is just too nice to do anything but go along with whatever Debbie decides the group is doing on any given day.

But back to the rest of the group, she is no longer that leaderly voice, so she ends up amplifies herself so much more. Jumps in the face of danger way more than she ought to, to prove that she's just as tough and serious as everyone else. Many think this is reckless, but Vilmr is a continuing source of support towards her fearlessness.

Her and Vilmr's dynamic is a mimic of Chickenstab and Rede. She's short and loud and seems to have endless energy, and she tugs around her blind green friend everywhere she goes. They're a package deal just like Cstab and Rede too. You will almost always find Vilmr by Debbie's side.

So when she is kept away from Vilmr, her true colors tend to bleed through a little more. She can get argumentative if she feels like she's not getting the respect she tries hard to earn, and without a second voice to help carry her opinions she tends to act overall more stubborn and disagreeable. She can get extremely hotheaded, in some cases.

BUT! When all is well, she tends to be the source of motivation for a lot of the team. Her neverending enthusiasm for just doing things really helps get people in the mood of... yknow. Actually doing things. Even if she jumps headfirst into danger to prove herself, it's that push to action (to save her scrawny ass) that often gets everyone moving.

Not to mention, she's also a source of some pretty decent wisdom. She tends to see things through a different lense than most, she likes to make big assumptions and step outside the basics. While she doesn't always get it right, be it from lack of experience or otherwise, when she does drop some heavy wisdom it's often something not even the brightest of minds have considered yet.

Again though, it's hard for people to take her word seriously because of how she presents herself. However, she will never stop being her despite how often she faces this disrespect. She is a source of inspiration (which she doesn't realise, but if she ever did she'd be so hype) because of how true she remains to herself. She WILL wear her dragon costume on this serious world-saving journey, she WILL make dragon jokes every step of the way, and thats HER and there's NOTHING you can do to stop it.

She would be ecstatic to know that she's somebody's favorite 0u0!

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the fox

Chapter 12 of? 4058 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

"Good morning beautiful, how was your weekend?" Taehyung says too loudly as he walks into the office.

You glance around but none of your co-workers even acknowledge his entrance. He practically glides across the foyer to stand with you behind the front desk.

"Any messages for me today?" He asks grabbing your lunch bag, not waiting for you.

"My weekend was... interesting. Mostly lazy I guess. We can talk about it more at lunch." You answer his first question knowing he isn't really listening as he reads Jimin's note to him.

"He wants to meet me?" Taehyung asks, eyes wide.

"Well, the pack wants to invite my only friend outside the house to spend winter solstice with us... but yeah you can interpret that as him specifically wanting to meet you if you like." You shrug.

He sticks his tongue out at your response, deciding you were just jealous of the connection he and Jimin were clearly forming through their two post-it interactions. Then he steals your lunch away and continues into the office. You hope he is putting it in the fridge, but you don't remain optimistic.

It's a long day, Taehyung has a meeting at lunch, although you aren't overly sure what kind of meeting an office mail guy would need to be privy to. You eat your lunch quietly by yourself and return to the desk 20 minutes early to try and keep yourself busy. The torturous day drags to an end, and you finally head home.

You are the first to arrive.

As usual Jungkook is in the living room on his switch, although no one had had chance to reset the furniture, so he still lay on the blow-up mattress. His ears perk up as you walk through, but he makes no move to look away from his game, so you continue into the kitchen. The fridge is empty save a few bottles of juice, the cupboards have only a few cans of soup, and the bread in the container is going mouldy.

Apparently no one had had a chance to go grocery shopping this weekend.

You pull out your phone and create a new order in the supermarket app, setting the delivery time for the next evening. You try to remember everybody’s preferences, including Hobi's seeing as he was practically living at the cottage now. He claimed it was all to do with his creative process, but the whole house could hear what he and Yoongi were talking about in hushed voices in the early hours of the morning. The walls were reasonably thin.

"Kookie, anything you want on the food shop?" You call.

"Can't do the food shop until Joonie is paid on Wednesday." He calls back.

"Don't be silly, we have no food. I'm doing one now. What do you want?"

The bunny finally pauses his game and shuffles into the kitchen. He glances around at all the open cupboard doors and thinks for a few moments.

"I guess I'd like some carrot gummies... If they aren't too much." He says sheepishly.

"Of course they aren't too much, they're only sweets."

"Yeah but sweets aren't necessities, sometimes we have to go without extras." He shrugs.

"Jungkook? Are you guys struggling with money?" You ask.

It hadn't occurred to you before. You knew they weren't exactly living like kings, but they never seemed to want for anything... And they took you in without a second thought to themselves. They kept everybody fed and Yoongi and Namjoon were always working. You knew how stressed Namjoon was, but you thought it was because of deadlines not financials.

"Um... I guess so. I didn't know they hadn't mentioned it... Please don't tell them I told you. Namjoon is so proud, and all he wants is to take care of us. He is doing such a great job I can't believe I've made you think he can't look after us." Jungkook starts to hyperventilate. "He is going to be mad at me."

"Namjoon won't be mad at you Kookie." You try to re-assure him, moving to him carefully. "I won't mention it to him if it makes you feel better. Just help me with the food shop and we won't mention this conversation again okay?"

He nods and sniffles. You put a hand on his shoulder, and he lent into the warmth. He then plucks your phone from your hand a starts adding all the things you've forgotten to the shop. Each item being the cheapest option available, no name brand items anywhere to be seen. After he is finished he presses order and hands the phone back to you.

"What about dinner tonight?" You ask.

"I think Yoongi is using the last of his advance to bring home Chinese food." He answers.

You send a message to the group chat to tell them you put an order in so they could add anything they wanted. You were met with some resistance by Namjoon who insisted he would give you the money back as soon as he got home but you refused. Making up something about doing the food shop as long as you weren't paying rent, refusing to back down until he gave in.

He tried again briefly when he got home but eventually accepted his fate when Yoongi told him to shut as he lay the dinner out on the table.

It was a rare night when Hoseok hadn't joined you for the evening, instead having plans with his parents. It was oddly quiet when he wasn't there to fill in the silences. His cheerful laugh usually echoes off the walls. The house felt a little bit like it did that night Jungkook spent in the hospital, but nobody addressed it, instead blitzing through little anecdotes about their days to try and fill the space.

"Oh! Taehuyng said he would love to come for winter solstice, if that's still okay?" You look across at Jungkook and he shakes his to make sure your earlier conversation doesn't resurface.

"Of course it's okay, we love having company." Namjoon says the smile on his face genuine.

You study his face closer than you ever had before. His dark circles were getting worse by the day, fighting his need to hibernate in order to keep the pack afloat. His hair is frazzled and desperate need of a cut. And his beard is patchy and rough. Your heartaches that you didn't realise how badly the stress was getting to him sooner.

"Hobi is joining us too." Yoongi says through his spoonful of noodles.

He is met with a chorus of 'duh' that has him questioning why he bothered speaking in the first place. The rest of the evening they walk you through all of their traditions for the solstice. They start with a huge meal at sundown, filled with meats, pastries, and dessert. It sounded delicious and had your mouth watering at the thought. Then they would go up on the hill in the back garden and watch the stars if it were a clear night.

They'd light a bonfire and let go of all the things that had happened over the past year, lighting symbols of their previous misfortunes. Bonfires were common on solstice, but your husband had never liked the smell, and your parents deemed them too dangerous.

After the bonfire they would then make origami stars with their wish for their next year and keep them all in a jar together. It sounded so romantic.

As Namjoon spoke you watched Jungkook's face light up, knowing this would be his first solstice with them too. It seemed odd to picture just Namjoon and Yoongi starting these traditions together. You didn’t know the story of how they became a couple, but neither seemed to be so romantically inclined. Their love for each other was evident in their little touches and hushed moments. But wishes in jars seemed too much.

Still, you were more than excited to spend this holiday with them. It was less than a week away and you only had three more days of work until you would be given time off to spend at home. The winter solstice allowed for two weeks off to spend the time with family.

Your husband had never bothered taking the time away, owning his own company meant he never had any spare time. you'd always have a nice meal, just the two of you, but then he would be straight back to work.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach all week at the thought of actually having a big celebration.

The rest of the week work continued to drag by but Taehuyng made sure he was around for every subsequent lunch to cheer you up just a little.

Every day when you went home something about the house was different. Instead of playing on his switch all day, Jungkook had taken to watching DIY videos and making little ornaments out of scrap paper. He had strung paper stars to the sealing on Tuesday, using Namjoon's old unedited manuscripts. On Wednesday he had made hundreds of little snowflakes out of his comic books that he had finished with. Thursday you came home after a half day to Jungkook covered in papercuts trying to make paper swans.

He had frustrated tears in his eyes as he throw another crumpled ball onto the floor, landing in a pile of about twenty failed attempts. On the table sat two completed swans that looked perfect. You shuffle noisily over to him, making sure he can hear you coming before you sit on the floor next to him. Namjoon had finally moved the blow-up mattress back to the loft yesterday, but no one had replaced the sofas yet.

"Having trouble?" You ask.

You pick up one of the crumpled pieces of paper and smooth it back out until it's useable again.

"It looked so easy in the tutorial..." He grumbled. Falling back onto the floor dramatically.

"Well you managed it twice, so you are getting somewhere." You shrug, absentmindedly folding the paper in your hands.

"They took me an hour each." He sniffles.

You finish twisting the neck on the bird in your hands and place it on his forehead. His eyes open and he looks inward and up, crossing his eyes to see what you had given him. When he realises what you've done he springs up and grabs the two swans from the table to make sure you didn't cheat.

"How did you do that?" He asks in awe.

"I had a lot of spare time at school... let’s just say I had no friends. Did you want me to teach you?"

He nods enthusiastically, pushing his stack of fresh paper towards you. Today’s choice seems to be homemade recycled paper. Likely old, shredded documents. It was tougher than regular card stock to fold and explained at least half of his issues, but you decided against pointing it out. Instead walking him steadily though each fold for a couple of birds until he felt confident doing it himself.

The two of you had an army of swans surrounding you when Hoseok let himself in.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asks looking around at the colourful array coating the table.

"No, but can you start putting these up around the house? Maybe hang them with the stars?" You ask, handing him a bunch.

"Yes mam." He salutes and takes them from you.

He tries to make them even with the stars. The whole room looked like a grade school class room when the three of you had finished but it also had a touch of magic to it. When Namjoon came home he brought a little shrub with him to act as a ceremonial offering for the holiday and each member of the house placed their gifts underneath.

It was easy to tell who brought each pile of gifts. Jungkook's were evidently handmade. Jimin's were tied with parcel string and had hand drawn hearts on the tags. Namjoon's wrapping skills were awful, with the tape peeling away at the edges. Yoongi's on the other hand were meticulously wrapped. Hobi's were mostly just made of tape, they were going to require scissors to cut.

You had tried to make each of yours match the men. You were nervous about the presents suddenly worried you had perhaps spent too much. You had bought them before your conversation with Jungkook and had used some of the money left by your husband so you could thank them properly. Really they had meant to be goodbye presents until Yoongi had talked you into staying through the holidays.

You were still considering new apartments you could move to in the new year, but with each new day you spent at the cottage you found your will to leave slipping away. You spent much more time thinking about Jimin and what Yoongi had said and how that made you feel. You also thought about the others and what you really wanted. You had been so sure you were ready to be alone. But maybe that was never the problem with your previous life.

On Friday everyone had a lazy morning. No one surfaced from their rooms until 11am. Namjoon didn't make an appearance until Yoongi opened the door to Jungkook's room and blew the smell of freshly made pancakes in, luring the bear slowly to the table. You all ate your brunch happily, munching quietly as you enjoyed the sweet treat. In the afternoon Namjoon finally got dressed and declared he would be going to brave the supermarkets in order to pick up the remainder of the supplies they would need for the feast on Sunday.

You offer to go with him, and he accepts. Although you hadn't realised quite how vicious this experience was going to be. The store had a line halfway around the building and Namjoon just laughed your shock off as if this was normal.

"I hope you're wearing enough layers." He says glancing at your puffy coat.

"How are you so okay with this. It's one day, are all these people insane?" You ask.

"This is normal for this time of year... Have you never been shopping at solstice?"

"No, I guess I've never had to."

Your family had people to do this. And your husband would've never let you go grocery shopping with him or whomever he had sent. You weren't supposed to do anything so menial.

The line shuffles forward every so often when somebody leaves. Shopping trollies filled to the brim with online orders and last-minute presents. You're freezing after half an hour on the outside, the building doing very little to shelter you from the chilly wind. It would be at least another half an hour before you reached the safety of the foyer.

You glance up at Namjoon, but he seems unphased by the harsh weather. As a bear it probably came with the genes. He notices you staring and turns back to look at you.

"Shit, Y/N your cheeks are really pink... Are you that cold?" He looks around as if a solution might appear out of thin air.

"It's okay, it's not too much longer." You put on a brave face and smile at him.

"I'd say go sit in the car, but I forgot to fill it up..."

His eyes flicker like he is lying but you don't call him on it, you assume he just didn't want to waste extra money.

"Honestly I'll be fine." But your teeth chatter and betray you.

"This might help... If it's okay." He unzips the front of both coats and pulls you into his chest.

He is like a radiator; the heat fills your bones instantly. You melt into his embrace, allowing him to warm every inch of you.

"I'm not going to make you cold am I?" You ask looking up at him.

You hadn't realised how close his face would be to yours until he looks down to speak and his lips are barely a centimetre away. Quickly you look down and bury your face into his cable knit jumper. Missing the blush on his face as you rush to hide yours.

"It's.. um it's hard to make me cold." He coughs awkwardly as his arms encircle you to keep you close. Every so often he takes one arm back to push the cart forward as he shuffles the two of you in the queue.

You chat absently as you move, careful to only turn your face up to look at him when you know he isn't looking at you. The second half of the wait definitely goes a lot quicker now that you are warm and as soon as you are inside he lets you go. The heat drains from you and you shiver as you reacclimatise to your regular temperature.

"I can definitely see why you are Jungkook's favourite cuddle partner." You say as you rezip your coat.

He shuffles awkwardly and redirects your attention to the task at hand. He runs the shopping trip like a military plan of attack. He starts with the ordered food knowing it will take the longest. He leaves you there with strict instructions to text him when it arrives. You salute him jokingly, but he just nods and continues with his mission.

By the time the order arrives he is already halfway through the remainder of the shop. He has a space in the trolley carved out specifically for the order making sure not to crush any of the food. You then follow him around the remainder of the shop watching as he inspected veg and date checked fresh sauces. Having only seen the forgetful and clumsy Namjoon at home, watching this version of him was like he'd been body snatched.

One hour later you were stood at the till as he pulled out all his coupons and finished backing his bags. You were careful as you watched him pack, waiting for your opportunity to strike. As his back turns to check the list one final time, you slide your card into the chip and pin and pay before he can stop you. He starts to argue with you, but you look around and remind him not to make a scene.

He huffs aggressively but takes a hold of the cart and pushes it back to the car. He doesn't speak to you as he opens the door for you to jump into the driver's side. He refuses your help when it comes to packing the bags into the car. You can hear the clang of the cart as he puts it back where it came from, and you start to wonder if you'd pushed it too far this time.

"Namjoon?" You ask tentatively as he slides in next to you.

"Why did you do that? Do you think I can't take care of everybody?" He asks, voice filled with disappointment.

"Of course I think you can take care of everyone." You answer calmly.

"Then why do you keep insisting on paying when that should be my job, to provide for my pack."

"Because someone should provide for you sometimes too." You reach out to touch his hand.

He doesn't pull it back but he doesn't meet your eyes either. He stares dejectedly out of the front window.

"Namjoon, I live in your house rent free, and everyone is so kind, I just want to do something for you guys too. I didn't realise it made you feel bad."

"Everyone lives in our house rent free Y/N not just you. Jimin's job certainly doesn't pay enough for housekeeping and it's not Jungkook has a job."

"But they're your partners, I'm a freeloader." You chuckle trying to lighten the mood.

"You are so much more than a freeloader. Do you not see how happy you make everyone just because we come home to you? Even Jungkook gets sad when you aren't around. He actually whined when I came home first on Wednesday not you."

"Yeah, he really has come around in the last couple days."

"I don't think you quite realise the ability you have to light up a room when you walk into it." He says it to be nice, poetic even, but it just reminds you of things your husband would say.

He and his friends would always talk about how your appearance would change the dynamic in a room, as if that was the best gift you could offer the world. Your presence was enough, no one needed to hear you too. You know it's what Namjoon meant but it still makes you hesitate. He finally meets your eyes when you pause for a little too long.

"Namjoon... that's lovely. But it doesn't appease my guilt of taking what’s not mine and giving nothing back."

"I think we might have to agree to disagree on what you owe us." He says putting the discussion on hold. "We have frozen stuff we should get home."

You make a note to revisit the conversation late, but the opportunity doesn't arise again. The remainder of the afternoon is spent marinating meats and cutting veggies ready for the next couple days.

Taehyung calls around 7pm claiming to be bored at home alone, but you suspect he may just be overeager to meet your friends. You give him the address and immediately he is on his way to the house.

He knocks the door rhythmically, leaving the last two knocks to be completed by someone on the other side. Jimin is practically giddy as he answers the knocks, enjoying this impromptu game that's been created.

The red panda opens the door coming face to face with the great panda for the first time and it feels like electricity sweeps through the room.

"Pretty." Taehyung says.

For the first time since you've meet him it seems like he might've been knocked speechless. Jimin also doesn't speak, he stutters and moves aside so Tae can walk through the door. His cheeks are as red as his hair as he takes a bag from the newcomers hands to help him into the house.

"I've never seen him so flustered." You whisper to Yoongi.

"I know... it's odd. When he met you he wouldn't shut up." He whispers back.

Taehyung seems to snap out of his trance quicker than Jimin when his eyes meet yours.

"Beautiful!" He exclaims sweeping across the room to hug you.

"Put me down Tae." You struggle in his arms as he twirls you around.

"But I missed you today." He pouts but does as he is told.

You introduce him to the room, reaching Jimin just as his voice seems to make a reappearance. He manages to actually ask Taehyung about his job, a question that Taehyung suspiciously dodges the specifics of. They disappear together as Jimin offers him the grand tour.

"Hey, I never got a full tour." Hoseok comments looking at Yoongi.

"You were never supposed to make it outside of the studio." He shrugs.

"Well that's rude. Maybe I'll leave if I'm so unwanted."

Hobi places the knife he'd been using on to the chopping board and swoops dramatically past Yoongi.

"No one said you were unwanted Angel." Yoongi grabs his arm and pulls the human back into his lap.

Yoongi kisses Hobi gently and holds him there, trapped in his embrace, not that Hobi makes any effort to escape.

They were so cute like this. Neither of them was particularly affectionate in public but they were slowly getting more comfortable with showing this side of themselves around the cottage. It was nice to watch their relationship developing past late-night talks and stolen glances.

Namjoon looks at Yoongi with all the love in the world and it doesn't escape your notice when Jungkook looks at them longingly, but it seems more like he is looking at Hoseok than he is at Yoongi.

Dinner is served by 8pm. The table is getting extremely cramped as Taehyung pulls up another chair next to you. Your elbows brush together as you eat, and it's almost too loud as three conversations carry on at once. And you couldn't be happier as you glance around finally able to say you have your own group of friends.

Outside of the fox masterlist

The next few days should be amazing.

Next

Master list

I currently have a request form running for if you want to request one shots and drabbles. Please follow this link to the Google form If you have one you would like to submit. I will be writing these alongside outside of the fox. You can submit for completely new fics or for sequels for fics I've already done

[twelvedozenterrors]

Conniving Children Concealing Celebrations

hxuse-of-muses:

{♚}—; Upon setting Andy down, he expected him to do something like at least continue to explore around or run off but instead he just stood there starring straight ahead. It couldn’t be said if Cosmos’ spell would let him walk around normally or if he could just use it again if he tried but regardless, he wasn’t testing that. “Come now Andy, you wanted to be let down but you’re still staying put?”

Spyro knew taking Craig up to the dessert table would make him happy, and he could easily get him some of what he wanted. Though as soon as he jumped up and nosedived straight into his back it made his knees bend momentarily but he stood his ground. He’d carried him before, but it had been a bit since he decided to take a dive into position but luckily he didn’t accidentally land on a wing. Though seeing this Sparx couldn’t help but begin giggling, his buzzy voice heard loud and clear by the purple dragon who rolled his eyes at his friend making fun of this. Although neither of them really minded, since Spyro was just trying to help the little one. So he quickly spread his wings and began to take their short trip to the top of the table. “Here we go kiddo!” With that he took off, a few jumps and hovering with his wings and there they were able to now feast their eyes upon various desserts all made to perfection by Devlin whom he was sure was proud of these. “Here we are! What would ya like to try first?” Zantor chuckled at the idea, Argus could shout pretty good sometimes if he got to that point. “Trust me, I can see it now!” He could already imagine the various ways in which they would get scolded and that he would no doubt come at them, or any other culprits in full force. Nils smirked, he knew how much she enjoyed getting a gift of sorts from any one of them and so having her balloon returned to her serving as practically what was like a pause button. It was clear that she had completely shifted her mood from being as excited as she was to being much calmer now.

With a chuckle Nils nudged Lindar playfully. “I can see that! It looks like things changed pretty quick like we didn’t just have a speedster on our hands not long ago. I bet you wish you could do that with Spyro too whenever he gets the drop on you.”  Now that Daisy was calm now, Zantor decided he could go along with an idea Nils shared with him a bit ago. “Maybe now, we could do a game with some of my cards.” Zantor suggested, as he began to levitate a few of them.

Even then, Andy’s expressions and posture remained static. He had his freedom and he was going to use it however he wanted; being obedient to an irritatingly literal degree wasn’t the best of time - especially at a party - but coming out on top of the mind game he was subjecting Trondo to would be an ample source of entertainment.

A kid like him wouldn’t dare let a smile peek through during an episode, but rest assured, deep down Andy was quite pleased with himself.

Everything Spyro and Sparx said went through one of Craig’s ears and right out the other. The only thought in his noggin (if there even was one) was to devour; he spared no time alighting from Spyro’s back and switching to autopilot the second he set foot on the tablecloth.

The event horizon had been crossed - the black hole known as Craig began his onslaught by yanking the nearest unclaimed cupcake into a bear hug and wolfing it down.

Rife with smug satisfaction from achieving what the parents of overly rambunctious children could only dream of doing, Lindar had been relishing in Nils’ compliments - that was, up until he struck enough of a chord to make his confident aura falter.

Great. Cosmos already reminded him of the pink hair debacle a while ago, and now everyone’s favourite beanpole was stirring the pot.

To be fair, it was probably karma for what he’d done to Nestor.

“Wouldn’t I just.” the humbled horologist groaned, rolling his eyes. “Nils, from the day he was born we’ve been trying - and failing - to neutralise him.” Of all the dragons that could have gotten their dragonflies early, the Artisans really lucked out with it being Spyro...not that Sparx fared much better with reining him in.

All annoyance soon faded once their whereabouts reminded him of the perfect evidence to support his claims.

“Now concerning party favours and other merry little souvenirs specifically, we know from experience that teeny toddler Spyro wouldn’t be mesmerised into borderline catatonia by a helium balloon,” yet again nodding his head towards the example on the floor, “he’d snatch up as many as he can the instant Nestor spends over a second looking away from him, then get yanked back down before his maiden voyage takes him more than six feet into the air.”

Lindar’s grin widened the further he went into his tale, culminating in more laughter once he reached the point where it could have been the epitome of comedy or horror. “So far, that has been the only time in my life I can say I’ve heard the most stalwart Artisan there is shriek like a little girl!”

A tickle in his throat made the blue dragon realise he was still feeling hoarse from putting his lungs through the wringer and he coughed into his hand to clear it.

Seemed like it was also time for him to calm down.

Daisy hadn’t appeared to listen to the conversation at all and remained unresponsive on the floor, not even when Zantor announced what he had planned; staring at the big pink balloon was basically everything she needed to reach nirvana.

Lindar cocked an eyebrow, intrigued as the Magic Crafter prepared his cards and took it upon himself to get the tot out of the trance he indirectly put her in. “Hey sleeping beauty, are you still with us?” When glancing down and speaking directly to her proved ineffective, he gingerly nudged her with his tail to no avail. “Oh good, I’ve broken her.”

Shrugging, Lindar’s eyes darted towards the clock hanging from his waist and he jokingly insinuated “Yep, definitely hypnosis. I may need to reconsider my wardrobe.”

[mindfulpathways]

Balancing Parenthood and Personal Growth: A Journey Through Procrastination, Coaching, and Healing

Balancing the demands of parenthood with the pursuit of personal growth can feel overwhelming. This is my story of grappling with procrastination, navigating coaching experiences, and embarking on a journey of healing and self-improvement.

Struggles with Procrastination:

There are times when I find myself entangled in the web of AI tools for my Shopify store, completely losing track of time and neglecting essential activities like eating. This obsession often leaves me unproductive and frustrated. For example, I can spend hours engrossed in these tools, only to realize later that I haven't accomplished anything significant. This cycle of unproductivity fuels my feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt.

Despite having access to numerous resources and courses, I struggle to maintain focus. Today, it’s already afternoon, and I need to pick up my children. Although I've done some tasks, the critical business goals remain unmet. This ongoing battle with productivity exacerbates my self-doubt, making it hard to break free from the cycle.

Navigating Parenting Challenges:

Being a parent adds another layer of complexity to my daily struggles. The guilt of not dedicating enough quality time to my kids is ever-present. My daughter, for instance, suffers from severe separation anxiety, stemming from past threats made by her mother. Each day, she waits by the door, anxious and fearful, underscoring the impact of our tumultuous past on her sense of security.

Balancing parental duties with personal ambitions is no easy feat. Often, I find myself neglecting basic needs or responsibilities due to my focus on work, which in turn makes me question my effectiveness as a parent. The constant worry about my children's well-being and my ability to provide a stable environment is a heavy burden to bear.

Coaching and Personal Growth:

The path to personal growth has been marked by my interactions with various coaches, each offering different insights and challenges. One coach’s overly warm demeanor left me questioning her authenticity, while another’s confident, almost aloof approach made me feel I needed to prove my commitment.

These coaching experiences have been a double-edged sword. While they have provided valuable guidance, they have also highlighted my insecurities and lack of direction. The questions posed by a Tony Robbins coach, for example, forced me to confront the harsh reality of my fears—failing to pursue my goals could lead to deep regret and self-loathing.

Healing from Trauma:

My journey is deeply intertwined with overcoming past traumas. I am proud to have maintained sobriety from crystal meth since 2008, yet I continue to grapple with other compulsive behaviors. Techniques such as somatic experiencing, developed by Peter Levine, have been crucial in my healing process, helping me build confidence and process lingering traumas.

Recovery is ongoing and challenging. Despite my progress, financial worries and fears of failing to secure a stable future persist. ADHD complicates matters, as I often forget important tasks, adding to my anxiety. Nonetheless, the pursuit of somatic healing has given me a renewed sense of hope and direction.

Financial Anxiety and Future Planning:

Financial stability remains a significant concern. My $35,000 savings are dwindling, consumed by living expenses and efforts to create meaningful content. The fear of not completing a $7,000 e-commerce program haunts me, as does the daunting task of selecting product suppliers for my business. Why do I skip checking out the next possible program? Sigh

Building a sustainable business feels like a monumental task fraught with financial risks. The anxiety over potentially exhausting my resources and the constant pressure of financial management weigh heavily on me. The added challenge of dealing with ADHD, which often leads to forgetfulness, exacerbates these fears and stresses. Just another steam of consciousness

[randomfoggytiger]

The Mulder Family In-Depth (Part II): The Past Is Important to the Present

It's important to backtrack into the pasts of Bill and Tena Mulder before continuing with their history, as it is easy to lose track of their true motives in the tangled web of the Conspiracy (and the conflicting dates that constantly pop up in the series.) Without further ado, back to the past we go!

Musings of a CSM

1962 on Ft. Bragg’s Center for Special Warfare is the station where Bill Mulder and Spender are currently bunk neighbors.

After their morning run, Bill walks into the barracks smiling over his son’s photograph, 

trying to engage Spender in a conversation so he can show off his son to his friend. Before Spender is called away, he finally takes the picture, studies it, and stares unemotionally as Bill’s proudly boasts: “My one-year-old just said his first word.” 

“What was the word?”

“JFK.”

He doesn’t notice Spender’s lingering eyes on Tena’s face, or that he continues to silently stare as it’s placed beside Bill’s bed. 

It's important to assess Bill and Spender's friendship, as it is pivotal to the slow, toxic ruin of Bill Mulder's inner peace and moral core.

The relationship between the two is friendly, but surface-level-- more warmth is on Bill’s side and more secrets on CSM’s. In hindsight, it’s easy to see that Spender was obviously smitten with Tena the fact remains there was more at work than Bill was aware of concerning his friend’s intentions. His easy-going nature and unsuspecting gullibility is readily exploited later by Spender and his associates. 

More importantly, there was no way that CSM could have been the father of Fox Mulder, unless he had had a fling with Tena right before her wedding in 1961. The creative writing team and their issues with canon's timeline aside-- Bill was newly married in '61 but was also married and had a family in the 50s while Travelers was taking place-- the two men have a cordial but not overly familiar relationship in ‘62 as next-door bunk buddies; but it’s not on the intimate level it is years later when CSM openly calls his friend Bill. If Bill and Spender met in ‘62 while they were in basic training, he was already a year too late-- Fox Mulder was born October 1961, and was already a year old in 1962 when this conversation took place-- meaning that Bill and Tena had married right before or after the birth of their son, making either him a baby conceived out of wedlock or a honeymoon baby. 

At the very least, Spender’s attachment to the photograph can be boiled down to longing for Tena in some way:

either from having met her sometime after her wedding or having a more than casual interest in her beauty from the photograph. (I subscribe to that last thought, as it would be in line with CSM’s weird fixations he has on women that he’s never spoken to but subtly studied unawares-- it would also be in line with the rest of his behavior in this episode.) And even, perhaps, curiosity in her son-- unlikely, as he seemed to barely respond to Bill’s proud papa speech.

Apocrypha

1953-- Bill Mulder leads the interrogation of a badly radiated Navy sailor. He begins by wheedling the dying man-- “That’s why we’ve come all the way from Washington, sailor. To hear your story. To make sure that justice is served”-- while maintaining a cool, monotoned inflection. 

As the sailor relates his crew’s suicide mission and the horrors of the black oill--

Bill is disturbed; and becomes less steady as he further questions: “You called this… THING the enemy. You’re saying it was an entity of some sort?”

During the interrogation, the other men in the room are constantly keeping tabs on Bill-- 

surveilling his reaction to each piece of news. Every facial twitch and abhorred expression is noted and cataloged. It’s easy to assume that Bill is either inexperienced with firsthand witness questioning or that he has a reputation for being a risk in on-the-job situations. 

As the sailor continues to tear apart the Navy’s cover story-- “Whatever it was, we were sent to guard it”-- Bill’s look of horror grows, and he darts out to turn off the tape. 

The crewman grabs his hand last minute, urging him to tell his story to the public.  Bill is torn-- he knows it will never get out. 

“The Navy will deny it. But you’ve got to make sure the Truth gets out. I can trust you to do that-- can’t I Mr. Mulder?” 

Internally agonized-- eyes reddening, nose flaring--

Bill turns to CSM for guidance and personal reinforcement.

Spender simply replies: “You can trust all of us.” 

A clear pattern emerges. While Bill was in deep with the conspiracy, he was terrified by its greater implications and shaken by the wrecked lives of everyone it touched. Fear kept him engaged; and cowardice had him constantly looking to Spender for reassurance to keep his head in the game. It’s easy to see why CSM looked down on most of his companions-- very few, including Bill, had “the stomach for it”, and would rather keep away from the gory details of the Project and its work. 

Dreamland II 

In a flashback, Mulder and Samantha are goofing off for the home video on Halloween  

until Mulder’s Spock ear falls off and is stomped on in a fit of temper.

The camera takes the time to zoom in on his crumpled ear, the person behind the camera not caring to correct the behavior (most likely understanding that the kids are jacked up on excitement for their trick-or-treating night.) 

Tena pops into frame next, gathering her kids together like a proud mother hen, 

instructing both of them to wave at the camera. 

But who is the one behind the camera? The only logical conclusion is Bill, since Mulder never mentions anyone else in his life that helped his mother raise the kids while his father was gone on business trips. So this appears to be a rare, happy moment with the family all together. It also gives credence to Mulder’s claim that they were a normal family before the abduction-- a little fairy sister, a mother in plaid and wild hair messing around with her kids, and a father who dotingly fawns over his kids while filming their escapades and cracking sunflower seeds comfortingly in the study at night. 

Tena’s caring and nurturing side is glowing around her children; and Bill’s sense of humor peeks through as he follows his mischievous children around with the camera, letting them run around in their childish ways. All in all, an important family moment. 

Two Fathers' Script Flashback

@x-files-scripts uploaded an important piece of the Mulders and CSM dynamic that, while it was cut from the episode Two Fathers, is highly relevant and must, by necessity, be included. (Link here.)

CSM shows up with Cassandra to Bill’s, interrupting a 4th of July event the Mulders had been throwing. While Bill is obviously uncomfortable, he stumbles to let Spender in. He is obviously steered around by his colleague, out of joint and running to rescue the barbeque burgers as a quick escape from the oncoming conversation. All of the guests notice Spender's arrival; and the awkward, tense atmosphere grows.

Tena stands between the house and the barbeque, essentially stopped in her tracks. Looking at Bill, with the Younger CSM in the background, she hisses through her teeth-- “What is he doing here?”

Bill anticipated her confrontation-- “He came uninvited. What was I supposed to do?” 

Tena is barely restrained with her response-- “I don’t want him in my house.” 

It’s stated there is obvious tension here, too (but no answer is given by the writers except a cheeky “Though we must guess why.”)

Tena is shown to be an active agent on her own turf: telling off her husband for inviting Spender in, disdainfully hissing out her dislike of the man, and severely implying that he fix the problem. It shows the cracks already straining their marriage-- cracks that are, conveniently, CSM shaped and sized. 

When Spender corners Bill over the Syndicate’s plans potentially being exposed and needing to think up an alternative, Bill’s dread builds and his resistance evaporates. He waits helplessly for his friend to drop Cassandra off somewhere so their conversation can continue. 

What’s interesting is that this implies so much about Spender and the Mulders' off-screen relationship: that at one point he was a welcomed guest, but that now he is vehemently not wanted; and that Bill is in a rock and a hard place between Tena's hatred of his colleague and his colleague's inability to be shaken off.

Travelers

Mulder has freshly found the X-Files; and is intrigued by finding his father at the trail of convicted Communist Edward Skur in connection with Arthur Dales. 

He tracks down Dales; but has better luck next time with a coffee in hand. 

Old man Dales is not easily won over, however: “Go ask your father.”

“My father and I don’t really speak.”  

So it would seem that the estrangement was, indeed, a well-established fact between father and son. 

Dales points out that Mulder must have had his suspicions already; and Mulder confirms, by indirectly asking how his father was involved. Poor kid is more open with a random stranger he’s met twice and bought a coffee for than his own father of twenty odd years. 

Dales relates that he’d crossed Bill Mulder’s path while tracking Skur, at first mistaking him for the falsely-labeled Communist.

Bill Mulder already has his wedding ring in the 50s,

which makes no sense because he married Tena in 1961. So either it’s a continuity error (which is rampant throughout The X-Files); Bill was previously married (unlikely in that era without massive social repercussions); Dales got the dates wrong (he can be a bit of an alcoholic as stated in Agua Mala); or he plays the same ring game his son does in this episode: wearing one without any government documents tying him to a previous marriage just because he wants to. Those Mulder guys sure are something. 

“Skur?” asks Dales. 

“No.” Bill removes his hat and moves in, an emotionally honest and trembling note in his voice. “But I came here to warn you about him.” 

Dales presses back, accusing his informant of murder. Bill rebuts that, stating he saved Arthur’s life from a man who the government turned into an uncontrollable creature. He warns Dales to be careful, otherwise he’ll get killed on his path for answers. 

He reveals that Skur isn’t a Communist-- that he and the other victims are patriots to the country and were used as scapegoats to coverup the horrendous experiments inflicted on them. 

Bill is world-weary, worn down, emotionally broken so early in his career. 

When Dales presses for further information on why the men are trying to escape-- “What did they do to them?”-- Bill looks away first, unable to keep eye contact and fidgeting nervously. 

Dales has to relieve the pressure by leaning back to get Bill to keep talking: “Look, you asked me here.”

Bill tells something revealing: “And I risked my career and… my family by coming here.” 

That settles the ring question-- it is just a timeline inconsistency. 

“But the crimes that these people have inflicted on innocent people… I cannot have that on my conscience anymore.”

The ‘anymore’ is such a crucial key. Bill is already deep in the conspiracy; and has seen so many cover ups and failures by the government to protect its innocents. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Unfortunately, no real justice is done even when he tries to help; and he never steps out of line again… until Anasazi, when he is shot before he can tell his son. 

(On a sidenote: Bill has always looked villainous even when he’s trying to do the right thing, so at least he’s consistent.) 

His lack of answer to Dales's next question-- high how up does this go-- silently confirms that it goes all the way up to the Director and the Senate. 

The next time Dales sees Bill Mulder is when he’s intercepted at the Skurs’ house by government goons, Bill among them. 

After a meeting forcefully recruiting Dales into catching Skur, Arthur asks Bill publicly if that’s why he met up with him privately. Bill’s demeanor is completely different as he casually replies “I follow my orders”, all while eyeing the other passenger in the vehicle. 

The surveillance of Bill Mulder continues,

marking him as, once again, a possible liability to the cause.

Mulder waits obediently in the car, trying not to betray his nerves while he and his companion listen to what they believe to be Arthur Dales’s death. 

When his companion gives him the go-ahead, they both rush in, surprised to find that Dales had cleverly extracted himself from certain death. 

Fox Mulder is shocked that his father allowed these men to “dictate his conscience”; but before that can break canon (and, consequently, his reunion with his father in Colony), Arthur Dales tells him “Oh, don’t fool yourself. None of us are free to choose.” He warns a cocky Mulder that he’ll be buried, too, if he continues to dig through the files. 

Dales has only rumors to surmise how Skur was allowed to live in obscurity for 38 years; but he never knew how accurate his guess truly was-- that some guy "with a conscience let him go." 

Mulder asks, bewildered: “Why would anyone do that? Why let a killer go free?”

Dales sighs, and states: “In the hope that, by letting him live, the truth of the crimes that were committed against him and the others might someday… be exposed.” 

Part 3 will be up soon, which covers the events from the Season 2 finale onward. In the mean time--

Enjoy!

[spotinthespiral]

I just had an epiphany at work about Griffin's father and lost my mind a little bit. (I don't have his ref but hear me out) Griffin I decided a while ago has strong Beagle energy, despite being a human. Marcus' dad? He's a husky. One of those brown ones, y'know?

His father was a smuggler for the Marleybone Navy, he manned fleets worth of ships, but his own was always the one which never got caught. He was a loud man, expressive, and headstrong. He'd keep pulling his ship through anything. He was hardly someone they expected to smuggle things, and he was absolutely the best because of it. Confidently offering (actually, excitedly with his tail wagging) offering checkpoints to search his ship. He was *overly* proud of just how clean and impressive his ship was. He was loud and proud.

Eventually, no one began to suspect him of a thing. He got so good because he befriended everyone.

Then Griffin came along. A boy whose birth parents had never been part of the picture. A boy set from the age of 3 months to be sold to the black market. A boy who Harvey Wright hadn't expected to be alive and wailing among his shipping crates when they set sale.

He's no pirate searching for El Dorado, he's simply a pirate infant that Harvey couldn't bare to see die. He took the boy back to harbor to try and find him a new home, but no one would take him permanently. The governor (an old friend) offered to have his daughter care for the boy until Harvey could find him a suitable home, but upon return to shore he realized he couldn't part with the boy.

Harvey (and the Governer's family) raised Griffin. From a young age he knew his father's tactics, he was taught and taught well. He picked up every habit from his father, including his boisterous attitude and his bark that had a (mostly) strong bite to follow. Griffin eventually was given his own ship to man and learn to smuggle with. It was a hard learning curve at first, but Griffin leaned into his story. Spoiled Rich adopted orphan boy given a ship to play captain with by his loveable and Powerful father. It worked wonders, and every 'routine check' was just about as fruitful as trying to find a phone in pants with no pockets, so they eventually just stopped checking him.

That is, of course, until years after Harvey was killed in a storm. Griffin was his sole heir, but as a non-Marleybone resident he couldn't take his father's mantle and remained at his current position. Griffin grieved his father, and became increasingly reckless with his smuggling until he was eventually caught by the Armada and stripped of all he had. The governer had to strip his titles as to not leave anything for the Armada to hold against him.

The governer didn't leave him without a paddle, though. The moment he heard Griffin lived still, he sent a ship for the boy to use, a final smuggle of his own.

Griffin now continues his smuggling work, but is employed by Captain Ryan Ironside, and has a ragtag crew to replace his old crew of mutts.

[dalekofchaos]

Why I have mixed feelings on The Mimic

I have mixed feelings on The Mimic after playing Ruin.

Why I've grown to like it.

To me the new FNAF games are the horrors of Fazbear Entertainment not learning their lesson and repeating the sins of the past and The Mimic is built on the agony of Freddy's. It's Afton's legacy being passed down. The agony he started is being continued to this day and you can bet he is smiling and proud that even tho he's in a hell of his own making, his legacy is being continued and he couldn't be even more proud, although his pride and satisfaction is unsettling Cassidy and Charlie. The Mimic is Fazbear's Curse and while William might not be around, his legacy remains or I guess you could say William's legacy is remnant(I had to)

Why I don't like it.

The original story of Security Breach was scrapped because of Sony's meddling and Scott's bad communication. To me, The Mimic felt like course correcting. Vanny's potential was squandered. Help Wanted seemed like it was leading to William's revival.

The Pizzaplex being built over the remains over Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place feels meaningless if it wasn't about William's revival.

Princess Quest shows Glitchtrap as something we'd see Afton turning into the Afton Amalgamation. But if that wasn't the plan, why even include it in Princess Quest?

The Princess is labeled as Cassidy in Princess Quest. But if Glitchtrap isn't Afton, why label her as Cassidy and paint it as Cassidy trying to free Vanessa and ending Afton once and for all?

I feel as though Afton was meant to be the puppet master.

William was Glitchtrap and Burntrap was the plan, but Princess Quest is the canon ending and that stopped Burntrap’s revival and it just melted away(you can see the steam in the recharge station in Ruin) so without William, The Mimic was free to return to what it was created to do(dismember limbs) and lure Cassie to free it.

I think William was the puppet master because of the trailer line

"When i first found you, you were nothing, you were small, pathetic… But now, you are more…. Are you ready?" This could be Afton talking to The Mimic or Vanny.

“You will do as I say, you will bring me what I want, and if you fail me, then you will–both of you–BURN!”

BOTH OF YOU, meaning Vanny and The Mimic.

Just keep things SIMPLE. Fazbear Entertainment was cutting costs and scanning the circuit boards of Scraptrap and the remains of the animatronics from FFPS and that’s how Glitchtrap was made.(or you know fully intended to create Glitchtrap because someone in Fazbear wanted William to return) Glitchtrap wants a follower that will help make him whole and help him fulfill his plans. Which is restore his family in his twisted image. Glitchtrap wants full control of the Pizzaplex, Vanny is completing his instructions, retrieving his body and uses Glamrock Bonnie’s remains to repair his suit and Burntrap wants to kill Gregory for his remnant. Not everything needs to be overly complicated, Scott.

Everything that made Vanny special was taken away by The Mimic and Gregory as GGY. They've made it clear that Vanny didn't matter and that was bullshit. It’s like every step in this new narrative seems like her character’s importance is getting diminished to less and less, like half the stuff she’s supposed to have done in this narrative has been has been…the roles of it has been filled in by other characters. Gregory is the one who puts the Glitch in the Pizzaplex, but she was the one who originally supposed to do that in the scrapped emails for FNAF AR and she hasn’t even been mentioned ONCE in these new books. Gregory has. The Mimic has. Glitchtrap technically has, but like no Vanny. What the fuck? There’s no presence of her and she’s supposed to be one of the new main antagonists, but now they’ve completely shafted her character for the sake of WHAT??? So not only did they fuck over Vanny in the games, they do the same fucking thing in the books. What WAS THE FUCKING POINT OF HELP WANTED IF YOU WERE GOING TO GIVE VANNY’S ROLE TO GREGORY???

They didn't have to use The Mimic. They could've used Vanny. Vanny could've used recordings of Gregory and synthesized his voice to lure Cassie and other children down to the Pizzaplex. Could make the Vanny or Burntrap endings canon. This could've been what redeemes Vanny. But no, instead they gave up and abandoned Vanny altogether and gives her role to The Mimic. "Cassie could be the new Vanny" I don't give a shit. Help Wanted established Vanny and Security Breach was supposed to be VANNY'S GAME. If they wanted a new villain so badly, they had Vanny RIGHT FUCKING THERE!

I mean just imagine Ruined Vanny! Vanny is shattered by the Staffbots, but she's alive. Vanessa is dead, but Vanny remains. To keep her body moving she repairs herself with parts from staff bots and animatronic parts from Parts And Service. Vanny lives and she plans on getting her revenge on Gregory and any other child she can lure to continue Afton's work and you could've replaced MXES with the actual Glitchtrap. art by azoinab.

But if they wanted Princess Quest to be canon, they could've used The Afton Amalgamation. Burntrap assimilates The Blob and becomes The Agony. The Pizzaplex is in ruins because of Afton. Have Gregory, Vanessa and Cassie working together to rebuild the Glamrocks, put together Happiest Day and ending Afton once and for all or ending Afton to how he dies in Fazbear Frights.

I am well aware that Five Nights At Freddy's is more than Afton, but saying we don't need William anymore is like saying Halloween doesn't need Michael Myers or saying Elm Street doesn't need Freddy Krueger. Complaining about William returning is like complaining about a horror icon returning, it's just dumb and silly. He is the monster that started it all and having a final end as the Afton Amalgamation would be more fitting than as Scraptrap.

To me, the script was flipped and the story was changed because of the reception to Security Breach. They gave up on Vanny and changed Afton to The Mimic. You can argue that Scott has this planned out since 2019 all you want, but using Afton's image for a new villain without any hints whatsoever in the game that this isn't Afton was just dumb. And honestly? We already had a Mimic esque character. Ennard. Ennard and Mimic are the same concept (evil endoskeleton mimics humans) and I think Ennard came out much better. When it comes down to it. Scott had bad communications as what he wanted Steel Wool to do and The Mimic just comes out of left field and at the expense of Vanny and Afton.

[vermilliondevth]

A friend of mine recently asked for my advice:

"What would you do if you were given the chance to leave? Would you take the risk? Where would you go? I'm just scared and I feel stupid for feeling that way."

The context behind her concern is about moving to a new country where she has never been before, and I could see why she would come to me for advice given that I have experienced what it is like to move to a completely different country twice in my life. I wrote long paragraphs explaining many different things -- from the importance of contingency plans and perhaps visiting beforehand to make sure that the place is right and benefits her.

But I understood right away that she wasn't looking for monetary advice. The word "scared" gave me the link to understand the underlying message of what she was looking reassurance for, and of course, I was glad to provide comfort to her in every way possible, but it also made me think quite a lot... I wrote:

"These past few months I had to take a lot of risks while also tending a heart that was completely broken. Back then, I made choices that I couldn't understand, but deep down I knew I had to do what I had to do, for my soul's greatest good. I was terrified of leaving everything I loved dearly behind. Sometimes, you will have to make difficult, but necessary decisions. You will cry, you will be anxious, sometimes you will not want to do this life anymore and give up on everything... but not everyday is the same. One day you cry yourself to sleep, the next day you receive some good news. This is the duality of life. Living alone in the middle of nowhere will never be easy. What helps me plunge into the unknown is that I try to do everything in my life in the most honest way, and with the purest of intentions, and trust that this will help me gain success in my life. It is perfectly fine to be scared. I feel scared every single day. The importance is to make that final decision that you know deep down, will lead to the road of your true happiness -- and most importantly -- to make this decision while your entire body is shaking; when you feel like giving up the most. Then, you eventually find the light approaching you through the vast darkness, and this fear suddenly turns into the excitement of a new beginning that you know is approaching you."

--

Sometimes I think about how fear deeply affects our actions/inactions, and the consequences that come when we decide that fear is a more comfortable feeling to hold on to than the experience of facing the unknown. Carl Jung himself said: "The difference between a good life and a bad life is how well you walk through the fire."

This conversation made me realize, that what has made my life worth living for, so far, has been every risk I have taken, specially those I took when I wasn't feeling so strong, brave, or even proud of myself. They've led me here, where I am at today, as cliche as it sounds. Although my life is far from where I want it to be, I have learned so many valuable things through these experiences. Today for an example, I have realized that I have finally learned how to take criticism with grace, and where once I would react and become overly emotional to certain situations because of fear, now — even in doubt — I can remain calm and understand when a situation requires to be left alone, and when it requires an effective solution.

--

In the end, my friend was incredibly appreciative of my advice, yet it has made me aware of how terrified I am of many things -- mostly at this very moment...

But it has also made me aware of how, after so much disappointment and heartbreak I've gone through lately, I am still eager and willing to open up my heart and continue being brave and take more risks, even if my entire body trembles, because ultimately this is what life is all about.

It is about learning how to walk through the fire. Not to burn from it, but to completely ignite from it.

[waywardyote]

I got really into keeping up with Hopleaf so I made a, kind of, bullet point 'journal' so to speak and wrote everything down until I can write it out better.

I love him so much.

Hopkit - Hoppaw - Hopleaf Male Grey Eyes ; Masked ; Shortfur Mediator Righteous Interested in relationship drama Mate : Hazelmask

Kits: Honeykit,Adderpaw, Beaverpaw, Weedkit, Rainpaw, Floodpaw Claykit , Mosskit

Outsider Roots Found abandoned with his brother 

Hopkit, as well as Burdockkit, despite not being wholly welcomed by the Clan, remain hopeful. Many view you as just additional mouths to feed, their whispers not as well-hidden as they might think. However, you remain resilient, intent on proving them wrong by becoming the best warrior the Clan has ever seen. Hopkit is incredibly protective of their brother and they are very close.

Hopkit is....weirdly obsessed with digging holes, as they apologize to three different cats when they trip. They are also not...too intelligent. Their mediator skills are improving each day.

They excitedly tell Burdockpaw about being a mediator and being able to travel between the clans.

Burdockpaw goes missing, along with other cats, in the night...Hoppaw is shaken by it and now feels alone.

Killed by a gang of rogues...as soon as they reached adulthood... They were surprised to be revived.

Hopleaf brought back SIX kittens and refuse to talk about where they came from. Honeykit,Adderpaw, Beaverpaw, Weedkit, Rainpaw, Floodpaw

Hopleaf and Honeyfall broke up; Hopleaf suspects she lost feelings for him and is not overly upset.

Underneath the watchful eyes of the Clan, Darkstar announces your new role with a solemn voice. You are to mentor Budpaw, to instill in them the values of patience and understanding. Your heart pounds with pride as you stride forward, bowing your head to Budpaw. As you press your nose against theirs, you promise yourself to make Budpaw the best mediator the Clan has ever known.

Hopleaf is torn between grief and pride as four out of six kits are now apprentinces while the other two were killed in an ambust by a group of rogues. Whilst he is proud, he feels as through he is living through a nightmare and can't be bothered to get out of his nest or speak a word to anyone around him.

Hopleaf grief hangs heavy in his chest as he loses three more kits; one to a flood and two to a fire.

The last of their kits have died...to a group of rogues. Hopleaf doesn't know how they will continue to go on. The only good that comes out of this is the nightmares have finally stopped.

Hopleaf picks themselves up out of their nest and begins the day anew, a fresh conviction in their heart. They are thankful for the apprentice, Budpaw, for their company and kindness during their grieving period.

Hopleaf's apprentince has graduated and earned their name, Budshore. Hopleaf still enjoys spending time with his former apprentice and considers him family.

Hopleaf lost their best friend. Hopleaf fusses gently with Shortjumble's fur, hiding the evidence of what killed them. They want to remember them as they were in life, not life this. Hopleaf only retires to their nest when concerned Clanmates usher them there. Tremors wrack through their body, as they dwell on how Shortjumble won't see another morning.

Hazelmask kneads their paws into your back while you doze off. It's a nice feeling, and the comfort in your body is able to momentarily distract you from the pain in your heart. Hopleaf jolts awake and immediately leaves the den to clear their head, hoping some fresh night air will help them cope with the sadness and memories.

Hopleaf tells themselves that they can't let these feelings consume them, instead they have to learn to live with it.

Even after all the loss he has experienced, Hopleaf finds themselves getting closer and closer to Hazelmask; it isn't long before they find out their feelings run deeper and stronger than just platonic love. He tried fighting his feelings, not wanting to get close to another cat in fear of losing another cat they care about, but they couldn't fight their feelings after Hazelmask confessed their feelings for him. Hazelmask and Hopleaf become mates. Hopleaf fall more and more in love with Hazelmask and believes he found his soulmate.

Hopleaf often finds themselves in the company of Gible and Antsky, he slowly starts to see them as friends.

Hazelmask shyly askes Hopleaf their opinion on kits and Hopleaf doesn't answer right away, flashes of memories and nightmares of his own kits' deaths, but doesn't outright decline the idea of kits. He is more terrified than anything at the idea of more kits and losing them but does his best to hide his worries. Although everyone notices how you avoid the nursery and find ways to be busy during ceremonies.

Hazelmask finds two kits and decides to adopt them, Hopleaf is still uncertain but accepts them into his heart nonetheless. Claykit , Mosskit

To help face their fear, and for the love of their new kits, Hopleaf spends more time in the nursery when they aren't away from their clan. Hopleaf promises to love Claykit and Mosskit forever and protect them from all harm while they sleep soundly.

The amount of pride Hopleaf feels during the ceremony when Claykit and Mosskit are named Claypaw and Mosspaw is immense; it does bring back the stinging pain of grief, however, it is easy to manage and he is able to be thankful for the life he has now.

Hazelmask was taken by Twolegs, Hopleaf is beside himself with worry.

Hopleaf drowns when the camp is flooded...

[updatesandnews]

Amir Ahmed: Blending Sporting Spirit and Heritage into DISH EVP’s Journey

Amir Ahmed’s path to becoming the Executive Vice President for DISH TV, part of DISH Network Corp., was influenced by his early love for sports and his commitment to building strong personal relationships. His journey from a sports enthusiast to a business leader was recently shared in Asian Hospitality’s Leadership Series.

One of Ahmed’s responsibilities in his current role is overseeing DISH’s hospitality business. Under his leadership, DISH is introducing new technology solutions for hotels aimed at attracting guests and improving operational efficiency while reducing labor needs. The company’s innovative OnStream platform offers personalized services to guests.

Despite his success in the business world, Ahmed remains deeply connected to his heritage.

“I’m very proud to be Indian,” Ahmed said. “I think the upbringing, the competitiveness within the family, how the parents brought us up, my brother and I, it’s just go out there and put the best effort and work and then also treat your employees correctly and educate them and educate your partner.”

Early Experiences and Cultural Roots

Ahmed’s family moved from India to Canada in 1966, and he joined them in Chicago in 1972. His early days in Chicago were marked by his first experience with snow, a significant change from his upbringing in India. Despite living in the United States, Ahmed and his siblings continued to maintain strong ties to their cultural roots by visiting India during summers. He highlighted the importance of preserving his family’s cultural heritage, including learning the Hindi language and not becoming overly Americanized.

Guided by Family Values

Ahmed’s life and career have been profoundly shaped by his upbringing, emphasizing the importance of family, trust, and building strong relationships. He shared the valuable lesson his father imparted: “Everything being equal, a friend is going to buy from a friend.” This principle of trust and loyalty has been a guiding force in Ahmed’s professional journey.

Career with DISH

Amir Ahmed’s career with DISH began during the company’s early years. Over his 30-year tenure, he witnessed the transformation of the satellite TV industry from analog to digital dishes and the expansion of 5G networks. During this time, DISH has consistently provided innovative solutions to deliver high-quality services to customers at home and within various industries, including digital streaming, hospitality, and wireless communication.

DISH’s Focus on Hospitality

Today, DISH serves over 12,000 hotels with more than 1.3 million rooms across the United States. The company works closely with hotel brands, independents, and small businesses to provide tailored solutions that enhance guest experiences and operational efficiency. DISH offers a range of services, including linear content, OTT services, local services, customizable packages, and equipment to meet the unique needs of each hotel.

Introducing OnStream

In June, DISH Business introduced OnStream, a platform designed to deliver custom digital experiences for hotel management, staff, and guests. OnStream offers a user-friendly interface that allows guests to access services such as check-out, room service, housekeeping, and more directly from their TV screens or mobile devices. The platform not only enhances guest satisfaction but also reduces labor costs for hotels.

Amir Ahmed emphasized the central role of television in hotel rooms and how OnStream transforms the guest experience. It provides personalized content, welcomes guests with hotel information and offers, and even integrates with loyalty programs for tailored offers.

Future Growth

Looking ahead, Ahmed sees continued growth for DISH. The company remains committed to developing new products and solutions that simplify people’s lives and align with evolving technology trends worldwide. DISH’s focus on the hospitality sector and collaboration with hotel brands signal a promising future for innovative in-room entertainment solutions like OnStream.

In conclusion, Amir Ahmed’s journey from a sports enthusiast to a business leader reflects his dedication to building trust, fostering strong relationships, and preserving his cultural heritage. Under his leadership, DISH is making significant strides in the hospitality industry by offering cutting-edge technology solutions to enhance the guest experience. Source: https://www.asianhospitality.com/sporting-spirit-heritage-guide-dish-evp/