#and everyone that is suffering around the world

[ahlamramadan]

Donate to help my family live🛑🇵🇸🇵🇸🛑

We lived a relatively stable life in Gaza prior to October 7 th, 2023. Since then, we have been displaced multiple times. We left our home, our belongings, our life and dreams. We finally ended up in a tent after moving in multiple unsafe homes. My children as a result, are suffering from malnutrition, inability to sleep and fear of bombing and explosions all around us.

We are in a continuous state of unrest and it's taking a toll on us physically, mentally and emotionally.

No homes, no water, no electricity, nothing left.

And now, after losing hope in life in Gaza and losing all the basics necessary for a single individual’s life, and fearing for the future of my children, as each one has a dream that he aspires to reach,

Thank you to everyone who read, shared, and supported.

‏Help us, we need you to spread our story to the world

🆘🆘

1100sek=100$

Every 10$ gonna make. difference 🙏

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #69 )

https://gofund.me/61f1dd1f

[aethon-recs]

This Week in Tomarrymort (12 – 19 September 2024)

Hi everyone, so sorry this is a couple of days late this week! Will be back on the normally scheduled time next week!

As with last week, please feel free to add a little overview/summary about your update to the notes! I so enjoyed reading all the notes last week 🤍

(And in case you missed, a recap of the extra notes from last week!)

Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse (E, 37k, WIP) [source] "Harry comes in swinging from a bleak version of sixth and seventh years, fully intending to kill Tom. Unfortunately it seems the only people Tom and Harry are incapable of killing is the other. Harry's on attempt 4 and counting and this time he gives up on spells and decides to punch Tom Riddle's nose off. Tom's still utterly enamoured with him." friend of the devil (a friend of mine) by @shyinsunlight (E, 11k, WIP) [source] "When after four long years Harry and Tom meet again, the world turns upside down. Or maybe it was upside down all along, and it’s now flipping back over." These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain (M, 23k, WIP) [source] "Things have gone from bad to worse, and Harry is finally about ready to take matters into his own hands…even if it means defying the normal laws of Magic and actually doing something for himself for once. (Guess which one will be harder for him 😂) In this update, Harry and Voldemort unexpectedly come face to face for the first time since the Dark Lord's death…which leads to a disturbing realization for Harry." Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 13k, WIP) [source] "A Harry-corrupts-Tom AU: Tom expects to feel victorious at his greatest enemy's confession. Instead, he develops a crush on him." the crushing weight of cancelling your fav by @cindle-writes (M, 4k, complete) [source] "Tom Riddle has made millions and built a cult following around his politics-themed online stream, much to his boyfriend Harry’s bemusement. However, bemusement quickly turns into concern when Harry meets one of Tom’s biggest, most fervent fanboys, Regulus Black."

Now onto the updates from this week!

*

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Chapter 22 (Completed) of A Shot in the Dark by Ragdolly

One Shot | The Dinner by moontear for @moontearpensfic

One Shot | There's Something About (The Way You Are) by Ragdolly

*

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapter 12 of the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3

Chapter 1 of bad moon rising by sansaerys

Chapter 11 of Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva

Chapter 2 of a pound of flesh by @ictyn

Chapter 8 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 34 of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapter 18 of Date Ideas for the Linguistically Inclined by Antique_Mango

Chapter 14 of Double-Aspect Paradox by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 6 of God is a Wizard by @onehitpleb

Chapters 121 through 123 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapter 17 of Learning to love by @l-archiduchesse

Chapter 1 of The Cosmos In Your Eyes by @v33r00

Chapter 7 of Do It Over by @thefangirlibrarian

Chapter 6 of These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain

Chapter 21 of Time Stumbler by Wintumn

Chapter 4 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle

Chapters 1 through 3 of Fetters of the Damned by @sc0rpiflow3r

Chapter 16 of Outrunning the Villain in You by @zenyteehee

Chapter 5 of midnight train by @girl-with-goats

Chapter 43 of Of Monsters, Of Men by @ca-xan-dra

Chapter 2 of the body is a blade by @lovely-lotus

Chapter 2 of Dream a little dream (of me) by @cenedrariva

Chapter 12 of Just Business by @holaolla1

*

[evilminji]

You know my Crechelings Are Possessed post?

What if it was just the one? A SI-OC or OC?

Dying and going THROUGH the Force? I will attest, is GONNA have side effects. You're gonna end up... weird. Not Normal for a Force Sensitive. Kinda like Anikin tbh. A bit TOO in tune. A bit TOO aware. Connected.

As though your brain was cracked open 5+ dimensionally, to the Whole Of Creation that IS the Force and it kinda fucked you up a bit. Cause as A Luminous Force Being? You were fine! Energy and light! But as MATTER? Well...

Matter breaks.

Can withstand only so much.

We are LIMITED by our matter, crude and flawed as it is. Beloved as it may be.

Cause make no mistake! You aren't BROKEN. But you are CHANGED. There were a series of clear, monumentous, and "life" altering events back to back here! Death, a traumatizing thing no matter HOW peaceful it may have been. And in all likelihood? It was NOT a peaceful end. It probably? Hurt. Was frightening. Abrupt. There is grief and hurt there. Fear.

Then the trauma of being separated from everyone we have ever known. Without closure. For them OR us. Our empathy would remind us of their suffering. That they do NOT know we are okay. That we have no way to TELL them we are. This too, is trauma. But? Worse?

Is the Force.

We? Are no Jedi. Not yet. We are confused. Lost and do not understand. It is FOREIGN to us. An outside will that we cannot escape. Where are our gods? The death we expected? The afterlife we assumed we would meet? It's INSIDE US. It IS US. We are IT. We don't know where we are and everything feels?

E N D L E S S .

Can force ghosts even cry? Weep, terrified and overwhelmed? Afraid? Simply BRINGING us to them would not impart understanding. And imparting understanding? Well... we know it to be not OF us? To be inflicted. An invasion. The Force is not cruel. But! Importantly! It is not and has never BEEN? Mortal.

Blue and Orange morality is at play. How do you explain to a formless, infinite, all knowing, all powerful God Force? The concept of "boundaries"? Limits? There is GOOD to be done. It's helping you! Pushing love and comfort! Surely that should work? Why is that not working? It is... confused. Not MADE for such contemplations.

This too, is Trauma. Being held in the hands of a God. Benevolent does not mean SAFE. Does not mean you will not be unharmed. Just... that they do not MEAN to harm you.

Or have very Good Reasons for why they "Must".

The Force Ghosts help. They are patient in the way only old Master's could be. Kind. They understand. Have taught. And so? Though they are quite confused, they understand you struggle to release your fear. Explaining things helps. Talking helps. And you find peace.

Not the afterlife you EXPECTED, but not terrible.

Which... of course, is when once again things change.

Birth, Life, these TOO, are Trauma. You were FREE. No more pain. No aches. No hunger, no thirst, no exhaustion. Connection deeper then this broken and flawed matter could ever hope to achieve. The world has gone SILENT. Muffled. Like solitary confinement for the SOUL.

Only in meditation, are you FREE.

Your parents can't handle you. You grieve for them. For the child they should have had. Look around the nursery, so filled with excitement and love, and feel nothing but the urge to weep. You are a stillborn, brought to life. A child stolen. They deserved better then this. Even as you can not be anything but what you ARE? What of THEIR sorrow? Their confusion and futures now impossible?

You love them. They are not yours. Will never tryely be your parents, for all they brought you into this world. But oh, Oh, you love these poor grieving souls. Wish it had not been you. That they could have had the child they were so excited to love. You... you are sorry. So, so sorry.

They take you to the Temple. You guild them to a child in need, first. Hope they will be happy.

You do not look back.

They put you in a Creche with others just as "Unusually Strong" in the Force. Is that Grogu? Hi Grogu. Who are the rest of you? The room is quite. Everyone talking loudly in the Force, instead. It would be deafening for the more delicate younglings. They don't have the shields for it yet. The children here SHOUT without meaning too, like standing at a rock concert.

Visions are a constant thing. Unusual Force gifts and manifestations. Illirrrska can see auras. Doesn't know what they MEAN, mind you, and xe sees them on EVERYTHING that lives, but still! Xey are well on xeir way to figuring it out. (Xey have a holo document cataloging the colors, you see.)

You fit right in! With your Tiny Herald Of Death To Come nature. Your Creche mates believe you. The adults? Have grown numb. Used to filtering. Tiny younglings with Too Much Force flowing through them? Are horrors. Viscerally unsettling. Unnatural.

Even to the Jedi.

But! They REFUSE to treat children with such caution and distain. Hold them at an arms length out of FEAR. So they mentally filter. "That's nice dear, horrifying concepts and brain melting secrets, mmmhmmm. Eat your pudding. Who wants to play float ball~‽ Yaaaaaay!"

No one will listen. Future in motion. But really, of course it is. You are no fool.

However... tell me, Master Jedi. Does it matter? If we die one step to the right as apposed to the left? Because you would not LISTEN when the Force spoke? The future only changes when you ACT. Not when you REFUSE too. Out of FEAR. Out of IGNORANCE. Out of ATTACHMENT.

And make no mistake, you ARE attached. Clinging so hard to your beliefs that you could not POSSIBLY be wrong. Could not POSSIBLY be fallible, be fooled by the Dark Side and lead astray, that you have turned your back on the very Tennants of the Code itself.

What is more important? Tradition or the Force? The innocent or the way things were? Tell me, what is the will of the Force... and what is Fear? Convenience? The little moral compromises that damn? Who do you serve, Master Jedi? And ARE you serving them?

Perhaps you should meditate.

Just???

This Tiny Cryptid Crecheling? That speaks like a wizened old Master? Feels like a tiny star in the Force? Not a cute lil ball of light. A FUCKING STAR. Giant ball of gas in space, a burning ball of light, THAT kind of star! But... small? Person shaped. It's like meditating next to a Force Nexus.

They just? Hand you things. Or sabotage random ships. Literally just FUCKING SHOT a knight once, for no clear reason! All they would say is "it's not like you'll actually listen. This is the only way." What? Of COURSE WE'LL LISTEN! (No. They won't. Just ask Sifo. Ask Obi-Wan. The Sith, fear, and hubris have eroded the Jedi from within.)

The full blown confidence of an adult? Combined with the creepy "oh god. They're in THE VENTS!!!" Nature of highly force sensitive Crechelings?

Magnificent~☆

They can see into your SOUL. Are holding a toddler that squirms around, wiggles up to whisper in their ear, gets a nod, only for YOU to be somberly informed that your second in command (a life long friend) has betrayed you. Avoid wearing red. You will die on a Friday. By the way, they can't reach the counter... could you hand them those snacks?

One of the other one speaks to trees.

The trees SPEAK BACK.

Prophecy. Fuckin Terrifying Prophecy EVERYWHERE.

Did YOU want to know that your grandson will grow up to kill his brother? No? Too bad! Not even married yet? ALSO TOO BAD! Have FUN with that knowledge! How about learning that there is horrific suffering planets away? No. No there ISN'T anything you can do about it. Just... here! Have some Deeply Cursed Knowledge. From a toddler. Now! They're gonna go eat grass~☆

The appear and disappear at random. Climb the walls. Fuckin FLOAT. The Force itself is their imaginary friend! They literally consult it over PUDDING CHOICES. Sometimes? They talk in perfect synchronization, like a hive mind. Stare without blinking. One moment they are perfectly normal children... the next? Like PUPPETS.

Tiny avatars. Through which SOMETHING GREATER speaks. They KNOW, not think, KNOW what they need to do. You can not convince them. Trying just makes you an obstacle to be overcome.

They are four.

Toddlers and children. Younglings. Initiates!

I just? Want there to be? A portion of Deeply Cursed/Possessed Crechelings? That are just LIKE that. Loved regardless. Nothing wrong with them. They're just too strong for their lil bitty baby brains. Once they learn to shield better? It'll balance out. Anikin would have gone there, had he been found young.

It'd be hilarious? If what saves the galaxy? Is someone finally REMEMBERING that? And thinking to themselves?

"Hey, you know what might be good for that Skywalker kid? Being exposed to more Force Sensitives that GET him. We should put him on Cursed Crechelings duty for a bit." And??

Anikin? Is in LOVE? They are all so SMOL an NORMAL? Finally! Jedi who aren't EMOTIONALLY DISTANT! Shielded? What do mean "Shielded"? No I'm not shouting all the time! This is my normal speaking voice! *Skywalker confusion as he cuddles babies*

Cause like? He too? Spoke in horrifying prophecy? Was vaguely Anti-christ-y? Did the (o.o) see into your sooooooul stare? So WHAT? That's just how babies ARE!

.....what do you MEAN "no"?

Every day, throwing open Obi-Wan's poor, slowly being destroyed, front door like "Master! Did you know I am AN OUTLIER!? And REALLY LOUD!? Other people aren't emotionally crippled psychopaths, they're just really REALLY quite compared to me!!" "Ah. Yes, Anikin, please. Maybe say that LOUDER. I don't think the ENTIRE temple quite heard you... -_- "

Just?? Anikin Skywalker! And his Hoard of Creepy Possessed Crechelings that are TOTALLY NORMAL, Guys! All kids are like this! He's a GREAT role model and baby sitting! Yeah, it's the Clone wars, and no, he has NO idea how the entire Creche got onto the ship... but hey! Enrichment! That's good for them, right?

(^-^) (o.o) (|o.o|) (o,o) (o-o) (|o,o|)

*clones look from their general, to the tiny unblinking magic jedi babies, back to their general* s-sure?

@legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @babbling-babull @hdgnj @hypewinter @leftnotright @starwarsblr

[floweycidal]

Is it just me or does flowey get humbled in both genocide and pacifist routes?

Genocide because he felt the pain and fear he caused others

Pacifist is pretty self explanatory

to say flowey was humbled would be an understatement. bro really did all this just to lose LMFAO

on a serious note, you're right. flowey does get humbled. in every route, actually. that is because he is destined to lose. to me, the world seemed like it just never accounted for his revival, nor did it consider anything that might spring from his existence.

flowey's entire life was built around frustration, a world that spun on without him, leaving him behind like an afterthought. no matter how many resets he triggered, how many paths he took, he never found meaning. nothing he did felt real, nothing produced anything that lasted. he was drowning in the monotony, in the overwhelming sense that the universe was dull and utterly uncaring about whether he was there or not.

this is where his delirium n obsession begins. if the world wouldn’t offer him anything worthwhile, he’d take it. if the universe ignored him, he would force it to notice. he became consumed with the need for control, desperate to pull the strings, to carve out something, anything meaningful in a life that had none.

but regardless of what he did, it was never enough. he saw every outcome, lived every route, read every book, burned every book. he spared everyone, he killed everyone. none of it ever amounted to anything.

the same faces, the same hollow conversations, the same endless loop. every time, it brought him right back to where he started, as if he hadn’t done a thing.

that was the real cruelty. whatever he tried, the outcomes were always the same, predictable and unfulfilling, none of them going in a way that truly satisfied him. they bored him, wore him down, as though the universe was mocking his every effort. every route he took, every decision he made led to nothing substantial. he was losing interest. his reasons for living were dwindling, fast.

the world went on, indifferent to his suffering, and that very apathy ate away at him. it drove him crazy out of his mind.

then you came along. suddenly, there was hope. a perverted kind of hope that maybe this time would be different. you could finally bring about something authentic into his life, your unpredictability a breath of fresh air. it was a flutter of change in a universe that had otherwise forsaken him.

in geno, flowey is almost thrilled by the chaos you cause. he praises you, revels in your violence, as if your cruelty is proof that his worldview was right all along. you become the demon he always believed you could be. and for a brief instant, he feels justified, even vindicated. but even that falls flat bc in the end, you take things further than he ever could. you tear through the world with a coldness that makes even him tremble. he’s staring down the barrel of his own logic, realizing that in a world where you’ve killed everyone, you’re going to kill him too. the power he used to reset everything, to cheat death, means nothing now. he’s left with nothing but terror. whoever convinced him he was in control? #humbled

in neutral, flowey tries one more time. he taunts you, eggs you on, hoping that at least in death, he can prove that the world is as cruel and merciless as he always believed.

but when you spare him, when you refuse to give him that twisted validation, it’s the ultimate rejection of everything he stands for. mercy is the one thing he can’t handle because it'll just mean he was wrong. you don’t have to be violent to win. you don’t have to be cruel to survive. so... he flees. #humbled

in pacifist, flowey is convinced this is it. he is god. he finally wields the power to keep you here with him. you'll play his game over and over again, and this time, he’s sure it will work. but as fate would have it, you break through his defenses, restoring the lost souls and calling out to him with a warmth that disarms him completely.

he’s left flabbergasted as his power falters against your unwavering spirit. for all his might, he realizes he’s lost control (again). all his efforts to grasp at godhood collapse, leaving him to reckon with the reality that his power meant nothing in the presence of true compassion. #HUMBLEDD

all flowey ever wanted was a single victory. just One. in a life stripped of everything dear, where he was left with only emptiness, he yearned to believe that if he held on tightly enough, if he played his cards just right, he could finally win. but that outcome was always just out of reach.

it slipped away like everything else. it simply was not meant to be.

flowey's most formidable foe was ultimately himself. as it turns out, his refusal to let go is what truly condemned him.

for letting go meant accepting chara was gone, and nothing could ever return to how it was.

for letting go meant remaining a soulless flower, trapped in a dismal existence, endlessly tormented by his loss and incapacity to love as he once did.

for letting go meant confronting the unsettling possibility that he might never find joy again.

for letting go meant accepting that perhaps, after everything, there genuinely was nothing left for him.

...is it really any wonder, then, that he sought out control with such pitiful desperation?

siiiiiigh

i'm not sure how we ended up here, but.... thanks for the ask, anon!

[howlsofbloodhounds]

You know, I think Killer getting reunited with his brother after his escape with Color would be really interesting, whether it goes well or horribly wrong.

If it goes well, it would be really interesting to see how Something New Paps deals with Killer not really being his brother (though I am of the idea that he'd love Killer for Killer as well. I just also think it would mean him grieving his brother yet again. This time knowing he'll never have his brother back). It would also be cool to see how he'd get along with the Epic Sanses. I also really would love to see explored what his tentative new dynamic with Killer might be, and how that may change Killer's dynamic with the others too (would he be less codependent with Color with Paps in the picture? Or would he just become dependent on both?).

If it goes horribly, well, it would be interesting to see exactly how horribly. Would Killer panic enough to kill him again? How would he react to that after so long? Would Killer even believe that that's his brother? Would he just deny everything and turn away and then be haunted by the possibilities forever?

I just hhhhhhhh. I've been thinking about them so much. I've never see content about them explored, ever, and the possibilities are giving me brainrot

Yes! This is the stuff I want to see with killer from this fandom. Not more of the same! Let me watch these doomed siblings suffer or heal. The angst having to grief the person you never knew you lost while they’re right in front of you, looking at you, looking through you—only it’s something else with your loved one’s face. Uncanny valley im telling you.

I personally think Papyrus will have a difficult time actually accepting that his brother is gone. Hed subconsciously see signs in Killer—same smile, same twist of the corner of the mouth even if the nature of the smile is different from when Sans told an awful pun, because now Killer is smiling like that when he tells horrible stories he seems to think aren’t horrific at all.

I think how this reunion unfolds definitely depends on the exact situation. If Killer is still trapped under Nightmare or not, or if Color has rescued him.

And if Papyrus has any memory of what Killer did to him and everyone else—because Killer did spend years upon years murdering and horrifically torturing Papyrus and all the others as if they were nothing more than toys.

Killer could look at him, and all Papyrus could see is that empty, dead eyed look as he screams and cries while Killer breaks his bones. As if Killer didn’t recognize who Papyrus was, and if he didn’t care who he was.

And Papyrus, how his reactions during those times could’ve affected Killer. He was in unimaginable pain, terror, and confusion. Hatred and anger and spite are understandable reactions. What are some things he might’ve said to Killer during these moments that stuck with Killer? Begging and pleading, cursing and screaming? Attempting to get Sans to “remember who he is”?

As the world Reset around Killer, did others eventually start changing too? Even if only in small easily missed ways, even if they forgot by the next Reset. Chara and Killer were always in search of something new, after all.

Could Killer trust himself at all around Papyrus? Or would he immediately start thinking about how he has killed him before, how Papyrus could be here for revenge or even worse—for Sans.

Would some part of Killer despise Papyrus for being weak enough to forgive him, just like he always did for the human? Would Killer feel the need to kill Papyrus again—believing it’s what it has to do to prevent something even worse (Stage 4), or perhaps out of panic as you mentioned, or even that anger at Papyrus or just the unimaginable confusion and stress and pain that Papyrus’ presence brings (Stage 3).

Would Papyrus’ presence disjoint Killer’s “placement” in time.

Would seeing him make Killer think he’s back in the Underground with Chara, and thus Papyrus is another enemy he has to deal with. Would he be unable to accept that the Papyrus in front of him is his Papyrus, or would he think it’s just one Papyrus out of a gazillion more, and therefore not worth wasting energy on?

I can definitely see Stage 1 being reluctant to actually be around Papyrus. Not because he hates him or is disgusted by his “weakness” and not even because he thinks he has to kill Papyrus—although he’s very aware that some parts of him very likely do think those things—not only because he can’t trust his own mind, his own desires, but also because he just..feels horrible around Papyrus.

He idealized this image of Papyrus and the life he thinks they used to have, but he has changed. He has done a lot of things. He couldn’t even accept a hug from Papyrus for very long without pushing him away in tears. I think he’d definitely benefit from having his brother back in his life, although I doubt it’d be a very frequent thing.

I can see many instances where guilt, fear, and shame just leads to him trying to “hide” from his emotions in Stage 2, which leads to the usual avoidance behaviors. Which may also lead to him subconsciously blaming Papyrus for being able to have any effect on him at all—given how Stage 2 views it when situations and people are able to make him “feel” anything. As if they are attempting to control him.

So many interesting possibilities—especially given how much Papyrus may know. How much knowledge is he working off?

{ @stellocchia }

[redditreceipts]

https://www.tumblr.com/cyberatioum/747032754880937984?source=share

are the girls waking up? 👀

okay so first of all, I never though that I'd hear the term "hair trauma" used unironically.

and second of all, why do these "transfems" even insist on comparing everyone's suffering in such a derogatory way all the time. I mean I have made different observations about people being bullied for their hair length, but you don't see me walking around comparing different people's "hair trauma"? that seems like such a bizarre past time to me.

and thirdly, even WITHIN THE MADEUP SCENARIO this person uses to make fun of transmascs, the transmasc did get into a ton of trouble for cutting their hair short... just because they don't make a huge fuzz about telling everyone HOW EXACTLY they got into trouble when they cut their hair short doesn't mean it wasn't traumatic as well

so yeah, imagine a world where transmascs actually stood up to these weirdos who want to downplay their experiences all the time and act like they are the permanent winner of the victim olympics.

[rems-writing]

The Doberman

》 Pairing: bodyguard!Yeosang x rapper afab!reader

》 Trope: friends to lovers

》 Wordcount: 2,443 words

》 Rating: mature

Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

I am tagging @acupoftaewithsomesuga since I love fucking with her and @frenchkisstheabyss since Yeo has been wrecking her lately :3

You had just wrapped up yet another concert for your world tour and even had a special guest come out to perform a new song that you three have collabed on. 

The special guest was the rapper duo Matz. 

After you had thanked everyone in the crowd for coming out tonight and bid them goodnight, you walked off backstage and took off the fur coat that you wore throughout the performance. As you took off the ridiculously huge sunglasses that were bedazzled with so many tiny diamonds, you blinked rapidly to adjust your sight to the dimly lit dressing room that you had walked into. You sat in front of the brightly lit vanity mirror and proceeded to remove your makeup. Since you were jumping around and moving a lot, it had caused a lot of sweat to drip down your face. While you were putting on facial moisturizer, you felt a pair of huge arms wrap around you. Since you were sitting on a stool, those arms were securely around your waist. You relaxed under the familiar touch and looked up to see your best friend smiling at you. 

“Hi, Sangie~”

Kang Yeosang, known as the Doberman, was by far the most intimidating bodyguard you’ve hired. A lot of people never took him seriously at first due to his statue-esque face and his overall soft personality, but you knew better. Ever since you two were kids, you’ve known him to be a tough guy. He may not seem like the confrontational type nor the type to get angry so easily, but push the right buttons and you just might find yourself underneath the unnerving gaze of the angel turned demon. You recalled the first time you guys met. 

You were being bullied by your old high school’s football captain. He tripped you while his girlfriend, the head cheerleader, popped her bubblegum bubble and laughed wickedly at you as you tried to get up and gather your things. The laughter from the cheerleader soon turned into a frightened whimper and you looked up to see a furious Yeosang squeezing the captain’s wrist harshly, almost to the point of breaking it. Afraid that an adult might see, you stood up and hugged him from behind quickly. 

“Please… not here. Someone might see.”

When he looked at you, you swore you were staring into the eyes of an angel. His fiery fury melted into the softest expression that you knew would be reserved for you one day if you played your cards right. He let the captain go with a shove, causing him to stumble backwards and topple onto his teammates. He whipped his head around and spoke in a voice that basically clawed its way from the depths of hell. 

“If I catch you bothering her again, you will suffer from more than just a broken wrist.”

That’s how deep it was. 

You saw them run away and you looked up at him, bewildered by the fact that he now looked at you with a small shit eating grin on his face. 

“Come have lunch with me!”

And the rest was history. 

From that moment alone, you knew that you two would be attached at the hip and support each other along the way to your rising careers. When you first got signed to RM Records, owned by Kim Namjoon himself, the first thing you established before signing the contract was to have Yeosang as your personal bodyguard. Namjoon was hesitant at first, but once he saw Yeosang, he was impressed with his strength and the way he carried himself as he protected from harm. Since then, he’s always been at your side. From the beginning until now. 

“Ready for the afterparty?”

“Absolutely not. But tonight was successful so I might as well go.”

One thing never changed and that was your hatred for social gatherings. Luckily, you never went to a lot of them. However, you still had a lot of adrenaline in you so you figured that you’d use it all up at this afterparty that you were invited to. After making sure the moisturizer was dried up, you stood up and went into a different room to change into a different outfit. Per usual, Yeosang stood outside your door with his mask on and his sharp eyes looked around everywhere. When you finished, Yeosang turned around and his jaw almost dropped. 

You looked gorgeous. 

You wore a gray AC/DC shirt that was cut and styled into a crop top, a dark green plaid skirt that was high waisted, and emerald green Converse shoes that were low-cut. Another thing that never changed about you despite your career as a rapper? Your grunge/punk rock aesthetic when it comes to your clothing. Yeosang knew that the tight clothing that showed a bit too much was something you didn’t like, but since you didn’t want to be mistaken for the lead singer of a rock band, you had to research what female rappers wore and you made sure that the tight clothing was only reserved for concerts. After all, you wanted to keep your rapper persona and your true self separated. 

“Ok, Sangie. You can close your mouth. You might catch a fly. I know I look good.”

“Damn right you fucking do.”

Yeosang said it quietly to himself as he watched you gather your things and follow you towards the limousine that was parked outside of the venue. He would never admit it, but he fell for you a long time ago. However, he blatantly assumed that you didn’t feel the same way so he kept his feelings to himself. The venue was packed with fans and paparazzi being held back by barricaded gates and a lot of security guards. You kept your head down and walked as quickly as you could while Yeosang shielded you from the blinding lights that each camera’s flash emitted. One lucky, or unlucky, photographer jumped over the barricade and ran towards you before aiming his camera at you. 

“SMILE, CHESHIRE!”

Before you could protest or even hear the camera go off, you saw a gloved hand reach over you and crush the camera lens into pieces. Your eyes widened as Yeosang glared at the photographer, who was shaking in his boots. 

“Step away from her.”

Yeosang practically growled at him and watched with a bit of satisfaction as the photographer ran away. Soon, that very same gloved hand rested itself on your lower back and urged you forward so you could step into the limo first. Once you were inside, Yeosang followed in after you and closed the door, sighing deeply as he closed his eyes and threw his head back. You didn’t know why, but you found the sight attractive. The way his chest was heaving up and down, his forehead glistening with sweat, and the strands of his black hair blocking the birthmark that you loved so dearly? Even when he was catching his breath, he looked like a god. It didn’t help that he removed his gloves so his hands could gently grab your thigh. It was natural of him to do that. You normally didn’t mind that, but tonight felt different. Yet you didn’t find it in you to shove his hand off. It just felt right. 

“Yunho, drive!”

Your driver nodded and soon took off to the place where the afterparty was. It was a bit of a drive so you had ample time to rest. As you closed your eyes, your mind drifted off to scenarios that involved you & Yeosang in a lot of different positions. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You hated it. 

The afterparty was a full mess. The music was a weird mix of EDM and pop, there were so many bodies on the dance floor basically humping each other rather than dancing, and on top of that, the alcohol was absolute shit. You wanted to go home, but you knew Yunho needed to get his break in so you let him take his 30 while you were sipping on a vodka cranberry cocktail and observing the scene unfolding in the safety of a secluded booth. Yeosang stood beside you and watched everyone like a hawk to make sure you were safe. It was like this for a few minutes until a group of drunk guys and girls walked past you. One of them, who definitely had too much to drink, pointed at you and sneered at you loudly. 

“WHY DOES SHE GET TO SIT BY HERSELF WHILE WE HAVE TO WALK AROUND?!”

Yeosang noticed the commotion and came in between you and her. Even in the poor lighting of the club, you could make out every single trace and curve of his back muscles through the black dress shirt he sported. 

“Ma’am, I suggest you move along.”

“AYE DON’T TALK TO MY GIRL LIKE THAT! LET HER TALK HER SHIT!”

Yeosang resisted the urge to roll his eyes in annoyance and simply whipped out a black & silver dagger before aiming the sharp blade at the man’s throat. 

“You do not have to yell in my ear like that, sir.” 

Yeosang was thrown off by the woman’s overly manicured hand running over his arm. Each drag of her nails across his biceps and muscled forearm sent you spiraling downwards into a pit of unplaced jealousy. However, you didn’t have to do anything about it since Yeosang grabbed the woman’s wrist and squeezed it tightly. 

“If you and your posse do not move along, I will use force. And trust me. You do not want to push me any further.”

The venom dripping into his tone meant serious business. The woman freed herself from his grasp and ran away, her friends following behind. The man called him a crazy bastard before fleeing the scene as well. Yeosang sighed and put away the dagger before turning to you and reaching a hand out. 

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

You nodded wordlessly and took his hand before following him out of the club. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How did you end up here? 

One minute, you two were seated side by side in the limo and Yeosang helped you sober up. The next minute, you were straddling him, kissing himself fiercely and passionately as your fingers tugged at his hair. Yeosang kissed back with the same fervor, his gloves discarded so his palms could map every inch of your skin as his hands cupped under your thighs. 

Finally, you two were back in your hotel room. You were on your knees, hands splayed on his slack-covered thighs, and your mouth stretched open by his undeniably thick cock. Yeosang threw his head back and let out such beautiful moans as his fingers tangled in your head and pushed you down even further onto his cock, forcing you to deepthroat him. You gagged a bit and Yeosang cooed at the sight of your fucked out face, eyes brimming with tears, and drool coming down the corners of your mouth. 

“Relax your throat, beautiful. Yeah that’s it.” 

You’d never thought you’d live to see yourself choking on your best friend’s dick, yet here you were. Were you complaining? Nope! Did you two need to talk about what you guys were after this? Yes. 

“Look at you, choking on my cock. You can take more, and you definitely did. You showed me that you’re such a good fucking girl by taking it all. Fuck! I love you so much.”

The praise and sudden confession lit a fire within you and you sped up your actions, fondling his balls as well. Yeosang couldn’t take it anymore and held your head still before moving his hips so he could fuck your face. You felt his tip touch the back of your throat and you moaned at the feeling. The vibrations sent a shockwave of pleasure through him and he knew he was close. However, he wanted something different. Without warning, he stopped and pulled out of your mouth quickly before helping you stand up and smashing his lips onto yours. You felt his tongue turn 180 degrees as he explored the inside of your mouth. When he pulled away, a string of saliva connected your moths before it broke apart. 

“Stand against the wall and strip.”

His deep voice was husky and sensual and you didn’t think twice before doing what he said. As you slowly stripped, you kept your eyes on him. He did the same while he unbuttoned his shirt with one hand and shoved his pants down with the other. When both of you were fully naked, you took a minute to admire each other before Yeosang came closer to you. He grabbed your hips and lifted you up before making you wrap your legs around his slim waist and sinking you down onto his cock. You mewled and whined at how easy he slid in yet felt the stretch since again, his cock was undeniably thick. Yeosang leaned in and connected your foreheads, taking in the feeling of being inside you before proceeding to thrust in and out of you at a brutal pace. Your arms were hooked under his so you took the opportunity to leave scratch marks down his back. It seemed to turn him on even more since he went faster. 

“Fuck, baby! That’s it. Mark me. Fucking mark me. Make sure the world sees that I’m yours. Because you know damn well that you’re mine.”

His dirty words caused you to moan and Yeosang looked at you briefly before leaning down to your neck to kiss and mark it up. His grip on you tightened and he groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him. 

“I’m close, Sangie!”

“Fuck. Me too.”

Seconds later, the both of you reached your orgasms together. Your arousal dripped down his cock while his seed shot up in you. He stayed inside of you for a few minutes to make sure every single drop was emptied out of him. He soon pulled out yet he still held you close to him. 

“Come on. Let’s shower together.”

“Ok, but… we need to talk about what we are in the meantime.”

“I know for a fact that I’m deeply in love with you and I’d actually take rejection over being friends-with-benefits. You’re too good for that and I hate sharing.”

“Luckily, you don’t have to worry about rejection nor establishing a situationship with me. I’m deeply in love with you too.”

Yeosang smiled and kissed both your cheeks before carrying you into the bathroom so you two could wash up.

“So what do you want for breakfast tomorrow?”

[jeanystillbeany]

BillFord Fic 3

yippee no pacing.

 “What do you mean the portal is destroyed?!”  The triangle sat atop a large throne made from the majority of Gravity Fall’s residents.  The lacky ticked nervously at Bill’s clear annoyance.  In fact, the whole Fearamid was silent in response to the demon’s rage.  

  “It-it was smashed-“ the green monster explained with a shudder.  His eyeballs were blackened with eight-balls as his pupils.  

  “Well thanks!  That’s exactly what I was- NOT asking for!  Details eight-ball.  Details.”  Bill Cipher seethed.  Eight-ball shook as he tried to explain without suffering from his ring-leader’s unhinged mood.  

  “We- m-me an-and Pyronica- we- we were g-going to move t-the portal here- like you said- but- but it- something smashed it.  N-nothing useful.  We-we haven’t found the creature-“

  “Get out.” Bill Cipher’s face darkened.  

  “Boss- look we-“

  “GET OUT.”  Eight-Ball was quick to rush out of the room as Bill’s typically yellow form turned a fiery red and twice its already exaggerated size.  

  After his henchman scampered out of the room, Bill let out a heavy sigh and laxed into his chair.  If he had temples he’d be rubbing them, but for now the space above his single haunting eyeball would do.  

  “Thirty years… thirty fucking years Stanford…”  Bill began talking amongst himself, “I waited.  I actually thought you weren’t dead!”  Bill’s voice breaks off into a cluster of unstable laughter.  The worst part of all this is that he knew it was his fault.  He pushed Ford.  He pushed him away.  He might as well have been the one to push him into that damn portal.  Ford was gone.  He always was.  That was it.  He has no one holding him back now.  Bill believed that the lack of anyone would push him forward.  He thought he’d be free… but if that were the case, then why does he feel so restrained?    He thought that if all connection to that nuisance was lost- he’d rather have the world than him.  Why is it the other way around?

  “FUCK!”  Bill yelled abruptly in frustration.  The world around him morphing with his emotions.  

  “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck- you stupid dumb- IDIOT!”  The demon groaned as he slumped back into his chair defeated.  Stanford was gone.  There was no denying that.  Cipher decided that it was time to stop throwing his little temper tantrum and cut himself off with a stubborn sigh.  

“I have living Pines to worry about. But first…”

  Bill snapped his fingers and two of his ‘friends’ popped into the room.  One of them looked like a pair of dentures with legs while the other was a pink woman with flaming clothes.  

  “Teeth, Pyronica.  I have a job for you two.  Go find the dumbass that destroyed the portal.  And make it pay.  Have fun!  -and I don’t want to hear that it’s even twitching!  Or I’ll be the one ‘having fun’.  Buy gold!  Bye!”  Bill didn’t give them a chance to respond as he teleported them to the remains of Ford’s lab with a maniacal laugh.  As soon as they were gone he ripped off his mask and groaned back into his chair again.  Or was that a sob?  He couldn’t tell anymore.  It’s not like it mattered anyway.  

  Sixer was gone.  

  And he was going to make everyone pay for it.  

~

  Sixer and Dipper conversed excitedly in the TV room.  It was as though they were two old friends reconnecting, even though they haven’t had much conversation until now.  The interaction began with Ford approaching Dipper about the modifications he made to the shield to keep Bill out.  Dipper explained that he found gnome hair to have a sort of repellency to unicorn hair- this caused the shield to nonchalantly cause the target to forget the shack was there. 

  “It actually ended up being surprisingly useful this far in!”  Dipper chirped, “it keeps us from getting any sort of Eye-Bat’s attention from up to 100 feet of the mystery shack.”  Ford nodded and began writing the new discoveries down in his journal while mumbling other theories.  Eventually the pair trailed off to talking about other topics and somehow got caught up on their favorite nerd game ‘Dungeons, Dungeons and more Dungeons’.  

  “Hey- if you’re up for it- I wouldn’t mind playing with you sometime.”  Ford grinned at his nephew.  

  “Yeah… after all this is hopefully over…” Dipper sighed.  

  “We must indulge in playing immediately!”  Ford claimed rising from his chair in enthusiasm.  Dipper was a little startled at the sudden attitude- yet appreciated the change from everyone else’s hopeless expressions.  While Dipper did seem to find some condolences in the gesture, fate planned on getting Ford back for his little scare anyway.  

  As Ford began to help Dipper search the shelves for their game, the door to the Mystery Shack suddenly slammed shut  rather clumsily.  Ford jumped in response and glared at the direction the door was in with a raised eyebrow.  

  The man took his curious expression with him for a moment as he paused his task and traveled to a nearby window.  Outside, he could easily distinguish where the barrier ended.  A trail of some of the survivors living inside the shack followed a certain Stanley pines out of the barrier.  

  “Stanley…” Ford muttered under his breath in warning as if the other could hear him.  

  “What is it?” Dipper asked curiously and followed Ford to the window.

   “Oh…” Dipper observed his Grunkle and his team leaving to get the supplies in the bunker.  

  “Does he even know where it is?  What if the shapeshifter is loose by now!”  Stanford sputtered.  Despite being much younger than the other twins, Dipper understood the feeling.  

  “You should go after him!  I can help too!”  Dipper said.  

  “No.  Absolutely not.  You are going to be staying in the shack where it’s safe.”  Ford commanded.  

  “C’mon!  Seriously?  I can do stuff too!  Why does Grenda get go then?!  She’s the same age!”  Dipper complained in response.  

  “I’m still your great-uncle Dipper.  We will play D, D and more D when I get back.”  Ford retreated from the window and began scouring around the shack for his coat- then realizing it was torn.  He grabbed all the items inside of it and placed them into his satchel.  In the meantime, Dipper followed him around like a lost puppy begging to come along on the adventure.  

  “Please Grunkle Ford!  I’ve been sitting around here for weeks!  Do you seriously expect me to just sit here?!”  Dipper pleaded.  

  “Yes.  Yes I do- now try and set our game up while I’m gone.”  And with that final sentence Ford left Dipper in the Mystery Shack.  

  Ford discreetly traveled behind the group set to the bunker.  He hid behind trees and trudged out of sight from his brother.  As the survivors and Stanford traveled, he noticed many familiar landmarks from the new Gravity Falls everyone was trapped in.  Weirdly enough, it seemed Stanley was leading everyone back to the lab.  Stanford supposed it wasn’t the dumbest idea.  The pure insanity of the state of the world has caused their usual surroundings to change immensely.  It was a decent idea to have a safe point in case someone got separated or they found the terrain has changed too greatly for them to find the bunker from memory.  It has only been a day and Ford found himself missing his now completely trashed lab.  After a few hours of walking, group finally made it to the lab.  The ghost of the mystery shack still stood atop of it.  The group decided to take a short break. 

  “I can’t believe boss did that?!  What’s up his ass today?”  

  “Yeah I know!  Seriously!  What’s so important about this dumb portal anyway?  We’re already out of that damned dimension.  I don’t see what’s so important about it.”  Everyone froze at the voices heard from the remains of the underground lab.  No one dared move a muscle as Wendy signed a few things to Stanley and everyone stayed silent.  For a moment all anyone could hear was sounds of Bill’s henchmen complaining while rummaging through debris.  Everyone began to slowly retreat away from the mystery shack silently- careful not to step on any sticks.  Ford observed with a clenched jaw, and he’d find five half-moons imprinted in his palm if he looked at his hands later.  One by one, each survivor made it out of the clearing and into the cover of the brambles.  The man still continued to stay in hiding until the final group member was out of sight.  

  Everyone was breathless as they silently waited for the monsters to leave the area.  It was quiet other than the loud clacking of metal from underground in the lab.  

  “Hey- where’d they go?”  A pre-teen boy emerged from the same direction the group and Ford had come from just minutes before.  He ignorantly stepped out into the clearing with a huff.  The entire group’s eyes swarmed the familiar voice.  Ford felt his hair stand on end at the tense atmosphere.  Ford began to sweat as Dipper carelessly walked away from all cover.  Wendy popped her head out from the bushes.  

  “Dipper!” Ford acknowledged the panicked look in her eyes as she frantically waved him over back towards the forest.  He also noticed Stan had poked his head out of the brush as well- attempting to aid Wendy in trying to get some sense of alarm into Dipper’s skull.  

  “Oh!  Hey Wendy!”  Dipper exclaimed- being too far away to accurately read her facial expressions.  Ford found himself among the two others that desperately tried to get Dipper to safety.  It was only about a minute when Ford realized the pace of Dipper’s understanding was much too slow for him to accurately comprehend the danger in time.  The boy’s newest uncle took note of the way his twin’s eyes widened in shock before scowling in disappointment as he revealed himself into the clearing.  

  “Hi Grunkle Ford!  Why are you all over there?”  The named Grunkle winced at his nephew’s volume as the noises in the bunker abruptly stopped followed by chattering.  

  “Did you hear something?”  

  “Yeah actually!  Almost sounded like one of those brats…” Ford grabbed Dipper’s arm and pulled him behind himself.  He carefully backed away in order to not make any noise.  He held his breath as he looked back at the distance between himself and the forest.  

  “Well, well well!  Look what we have here Pyronica!”  Ford’s attention darted to the voice that came from the teeth demon.  It then went to the named pink one who towered over him.    

  “Look, it’s the old man and his nephew!  Love the new look… didja… do something with your hair?”  The pink demon flicked the floof of his hair as he pushed himself further in front of Dipper.  

  “What do you say we do with ‘em?”  Teeth asked.  

  “I say, we feed it to the wretch that destroyed our best friend’s portal!”  Pyronica grinned- pinching Stanford’s cheek.  He glared as his hand slowly moved to his satchel.  

  “Aww… I wanted a few bites…”  Teeth said disappointed.  

  “Oh, I’m sure you can have your fair share-“ Pyronica cut herself off as she noticed Ford’s movements towards his bag, “oh!  That could’ve been bad now couldn’t it?” She gleamed as she tore Ford’s satchel off his shoulders and tossed it to the side.  Ford fell backwards- pushing Dipper aside and held his shoulder to lighten the impact.  

  “Hey!  You leave my Grunkle alone!”  Dipper exclaimed fiercely.  He sat up- but Ford held him back.  He gave his nephew’s shoulder a squeeze to signal to him to stop, but the fire in his relative raged on.  

  “Oh!  So we got ourselves a yapper!  How cute…” Pyronica said tipping Dipper’s hat as she leaned menacingly over the pair.  

  “I say we eat them now!”  Teeth jumped in.  

  “Oh- but Bill would be so much more pleased if we brought Stanley back… you know how much he despises him.”  Pyronica pointed out as she reached for Ford and Dipper.  

  “Hey!”  Everyone’s heads darted towards the new voice- shocked to be seeing double.  Stanley stood fiercely and moved in front of his brother and Dipper.  He had Ford’s bag draped over his shoulder and his brother’s gun pointed at the monsters.  

  “Is- is this just me?  Or am I a little crazy here?  I think I had too much Time Punch…” Teeth exclaimed.  He then got abruptly shot right on one of his front teeth.  

  “AHH A CAVITY!”  Teeth exclaimed taking shelter back in the lab.  

  “You stay away from my family.”  Stanley said sternly before pointing the gun at Pyronica who continued to look between the two.  She grumbled with her hands up and rolled her eyes.  

  “And what is that stupid little gun gonna do huh-“ Pyronica was caught off guard as a zap of an unknown blue energy zipped past her face- giving her a nasty burn on her cheek bone.  She hummed before snapping her fingers expecting the injury to heal immediately.  When she still noticed a burning sensation, she snapped again.  The pink demon began snapping repeatedly until realization finally got through her thick skull.  Pyronica huffed in defeat.  

  “Teeth!  We’re leaving these cowards.”  She growled before following teeth back into the abandoned lab.  A large force of pink energy shot out of the top.  Ford presumed this to be an indication of teleportation.  

  Stanley still stood there tense long after the demons retreated.  The gun was still pointed at the lab where the demons never reemerged.  Ford brushed himself off and helped Dipper up before placing a hand on his twin’s shoulder.  Stanley sighed before lowering the gun and standing there for a moment.  

  He slowly turned around and pulled Ford into a hug.  

  “See?  I told you!  I would’ve thought you remembered…”  Stanley mumbled.  Ford hugged his twin back- knowing exactly what he was referring to.  

  “What that you’re always right?”  Ford asked.  

  “Yeah,” Stanley pulled himself away, but firmly gripped Ford’s shoulders, “Now can someone tell explain to me what was going on inside of that stupid head of yours!  I told you to stay in the shack!  But then you not only go off but bring Dipper with you?!”  Stan glared at his brother. Ford opened his mouth to respond before Dipper cut in.  

  “…it’s my fault Grunkle Stan… Grunkle Ford told me to stay in the shack.  I followed him.”  He admitted with his eyes aimed at the floor.    Stanley let go of his brother’s shoulders and sighed.  

  “Hey Dipper… look at me…” Stan said in an earnest manner.  Dipper followed his instructions as his uncle put a hand on his shoulder.  

  “That was stupid,” his uncle said bluntly, “very, very, very, very stupid.”  Dipper awaited a second stanza to his Uncle’s statement but received none other than a sly ‘you too’ towards Ford.  Stanley gave Ford’s bag back to him and the gun (with slightly more hesitation and borderline begging to keep it).  The group emerged from the forest.  Wendy even came up and slapped her boss on the back in victory.  

  After that fiasco the resource retrieval team decided they needed a proper break.  They all sat down in a group and quietly chatted amongst each other, sipping water, and savoring rations.  Ford took to savoring the peace.  He leaned his back up against a tree as he began writing the recent events into his journal.  His knees propped the journal open sufficiently, tucked about a foot from his chest.  Dipper was huddled closely beside him, anxiously asking questions with the excitement of Mabel.  Eventually Ford caved in and stretched out his legs- putting the journal at a better angle for Dipper to see.  The boy quaffed the words  written as soon as he was given a chance.  As Dipper read, Ford ruffled through his bag.  

  “What are you looking for Grunkle Ford?”  Dipper peaked from the book for only a second.  

  “One moment Dipper… ah.  Here we are!”  Ford’s six fingered hand removed itself from the bag, holding out a second pen to Dipper.  The boy looked at it questioningly.  

  “Well, I wanted to write about our encounter just now.  I thought that maybe you could help.”  Stanford shrugged, still having the pen held out to Dipper.  The 13-year-old took it eagerly, looking up to Ford in admiration.  The Grunkle put the book between themselves- giving each other about a paragraph.  The first few sentences were messy trying to figure out some sort of system in journaling with twice as many people.  Though, they both figured it out just fine in the end.  

  Stanley sat by a tree across from them- nonchalantly eating a can of brown meat.  Ford couldn’t help but notice the occasional longing glances his brother stole from them.  Ford sighed with a fond smile before motioning for Dipper to pause when they got to retelling the events that just occurred.  

  “Is something wrong Grunkle Ford?”  Dipper asked stopping mid sentence.  

  “No, no Dipper.  In fact- everything is great.  Though… I thought that maybe the man of the hour should write his own part.”  Ford shrugged.  

  “Really?”  Dipper looked skeptical before shrugging, “Fine.” 

  Ford nodded satisfied before calling his brother, “Hey!  Stanley!”  He waved his brother over.  

  Stan perked up as soon as he heard his brother call him, but then immediately slouched again.  It was as though he wanted to suppress the smile that came from a feeling he thought he lost with his brother 31 years ago.  Stanley lazily sauntered over.  Though Ford could see the gleam in his eye whenever he chatted with his family.  

  “So what’d you nerds need?”  Stan sat down in front of them.  

  “Oh!  Grunkle Ford wants you to help us write an entry in his journal.”  Dipper exclaimed- sliding the book over to his other great-uncle.  

  Stanley’s eyes widened at the gesture and gave Ford a questioning look.  He never let him touch his work.  Stanley always thought it was because he believed that he’d mess it up somehow.  Ford only nodded in responds and handed Stanley a pen.  He grinned and began jotting where the other two left off.  

[yemaomeow]

I’m thinking about the significance of atla showing both sides of every nation once again because it is so fucking important to understand for everyone, but especially youth that want to make change- that war isn’t as simple as good vs bad and evil vs good or black and white. war is such a complex thing and people are such complex beings that thinking about media that deal with these types of topics through only two lenses, is not a good way to try to find understanding. there is “good” and “bad” in everyone- atla stresses that the people who do manage to find peace in themselves are those who can balance these sides of themselves, but to get to that balance, you must accept that you have these qualities and that while people do not change, they can grow and accept.

there are examples of these kinds of people in every nation: the earth king is so naive to a fault that he led his own nation into ruin, but he did not have ill intention: he truly did want to keep his people safe vs long feng who used the king’s naivety and stubbornness to gain power. he did not care about the people.

in the fire nation we have lu ten, jeong jeong and roku. i feel that zuko and sozin and azula are talked about enough, but they are still relevant. anyways. lu ten was a product of his nation, yeah? he was raised to serve and to make the royal family proud. he was not evil. he was just working for the goal instilled in him- he was a soldier, a cousin and a son. this was his job and this is what he wanted to be- but because he had no other choices for what to make of his life, this is what he also had to be. he was a boy. jeong jeong did not find balance and peace in his work as a general so he escaped it- he did not escape it because he saw wrong in being a general, he escaped it because he saw wrong in the way fire was used as a whole. but he did not work to better the nation or to use his teachings for good. he vanished. roku had a similar approach like jeong jeong. he cowered away from confrontation, unlike others of his family and nation, and only pushed back when he (and other’s) were pushed to having no choice. with their inner conflicts about how to use their bending abilities, they made mistakes that concerned others and passed down their issues and solutions. this is incredibly human: learning from your mistakes while leaving others to solve them

in the water tribe: we have hamma, paku and kurkuk. hamma was a deeply scarred POW who craved the stability and freedom and home she was taken from, so all the suffering she endured, she wanted to give back simply because she wanted the people who hurt her to feel that pain and stop inflicting it onto others, but she got carried away. she became consumed by the urge to retaliate with feeling that she became the monster she accused others of being. paku was so focused on conserving tradition that he refused to open eyes to making brief changes because he feared toppling structure and the ideals he had- he feared ruining his home and culture, but he learned and he found a balance. kuruk relied on the world around him to determine his actions. he was a live and let go type of man, who should have acted sooner- he is similar to aang who just wanted to watch the world as it was and help where he was needed, but both of them needed their loved ones to be put in danger to make an ultimate decision. all of these characteristics are what lead to the downfall or upbringing of people who fight wars.

and the air nomads even: gyatso and aang. they spoke too late and acted even later. they were so consumed by the physicality of being good that they didn’t take action until they absolutely had to which just did not serve in their times. being pushed and letting yourself be pushed to extremes is just as bad as being the one to push others because you fail to stop or go at appropriate times.

everyone has faults that play into the destruction of lives. but no single person is at fault. we are all just products of our surroundings, but how we choose to become individuals as time moves and we grow is what makes it better or worse- but all of these characters? What did they do? What do they have in common? They all had significant scenes showing that they accepted this life and they can only grow or not grow in it

[fantasma-de-la-cueva]

Solo quiero recordarles que si apoyan cualquier tipo de injusticia contra la gente y la violación de derechos humanos solo porque los tiranos comparten vuestra misma ideología entonces mejor bloquéenme, no me sigan, vayanse fuera de mi perfil porque no los quiero ver, me dais asco la gente así y os odio.

Eng: I just want to remind you that if you support any kind of injustice against people and the violation of human rights just because the tyrants share the same ideology as you then block me, don't follow me, go out of my profile because I don't want to see you, I'm disgusted by people like you and I hate you.

[sissytobitch10seconds]

I don't think that the majority of people being mad on the internet actually hate s4. I think that they're grieving something that they held very close to their hearts and are in the anger stage of the process. It'll be interesting to see in the next few months what the attitude around the season comes to be.

[stepbackattack]

SCOLLACE SWEEP🗣️🧹

[bunnihearted]

it is so fucking insane that palestine is suffering extreme, like beyond insane, violence done to them by ppl worse than nazis, and the world just sits idly by and allows it

[butchhansolo]

in-universe "logistics" aside, i think it's good that echo has the permanent scomp arm instead of a hand for like. real-world representation reasons.

in star wars sure they have fully articulated replacement prosthetics but we very much don't have that in real life, and i feel like echo with the scomp is good rep for that. he's one of the most competent characters and i think it's good to show that he can do All That as he is, especially with how irl people with only one hand usually are very capable, even more if they've been living with it for a long time, and very rarely do we see that in media.

like, mark hamill once said he talked to a kid for a make a wish thing who was about to have his arm amputated, and the kid said that he wasn't worried because luke did it too. i think that's important

[just-another-obsessed-fangirl]

2 am and my npmd rotted brain is even more incoherent than usual but like... max explicitly saying that he views grace as "forbidden fruit", and while not said out loud, that is clearly also how grace views max... in christian doctrine, adam and eve ate the forbidden fruit and became sinful and unintentionally doomed the rest of humanity with original sin... grace having sex with max, tasting her forbidden fruit and becoming sinful and taking it upon herself to doom the rest of sinful humanity (well, dirty dudes, but she clearly doesn't have extreme qualifications for who could deserve that title)

[giantkillerjack]

Uh-oh! You are like, SOOO awkward!!

You're so awkward that it is occasionally mildly uncomfortable for people!

You're so awkward that sometimes people are confused by you and then there are awkward silences!

You're so awkward ...... that ultimately no one is harmed!!

Oh damn!!! What a vile crime you have committed! What an unforgivable thing it is to make a fellow human briefly confused!

Why, if *I* were ever briefly confused and kind of uncomfortable as a result, I'd be devastated.... by the absolute net zero change in my happiness and health! - From which I might never recover!! Yes indeed! No punishment can ever be enough for you!!

So you better absolutely hate yourself for it.

Better be SO MEAN to yourself about every single missed social cue so you don't forget your horrible crime! Meaner than you'd ever dream of being to someone else for the same thing! This is YOUR responsibility!

You need to show the world that you KNOW you are bad by punishing yourself constantly! After all, think of all the people who BENEFIT from you punishing yourself! - No, really! Think about it! Think about who benefits from your pain.

Think of alllllll the definitely-good people that your definitely-necessary self-torment definitely helps! I mean, you can't just cut off their definitely-life-sustaining supply of your suffering, right?? Sure, everyone else has a breaking point, but you're probably the only person in human history who doesn't, right? Best not to question it probably. Sure, it's a symptom that billions of people with trauma have had, but who knows? You could be a one-in-seven-billion exception. Anything's possible!

Instead, better just accept that idea that bullies carry like guns in holsters - the idea that people who have trouble with social cues deserve to suffer. Better carry on the burden they placed on you until you drop. Aid the cause of the callous by enforcing shame and suffering upon yourself extra hard; try your best to do their work for them. They're very busy.

Better not recognize that you need patience and kindness to heal from your trauma. Better not find out that it was trauma rather than personal weakness filling your head with self-hating thoughts. Better not find out it wasn't your fault.

Better not find out that awkwardness is not inherently harmful or unkind, and, in fact, the people who act like it is *are the ones enacting harm and being cruel.*

Better not get righteously angry when you realize just how much unnecessary damage this has done to you. After all, if you get mad, you might realize you deserve better. You might even feel brave enough to DEMAND better! You might build boundaries that keep you safe! You might make other people think they deserve to feel safe too! And we obviously can't be having that, so...

Better not show yourself even a little kindness a little bit at a time.

Better not make a habit out of it after all that practice.

Better not get confident.

Especially if you can't first wipe out every trace of awkward. (And you probably never will. Because people who experience absolute social certainty at all times tend to be insufferable assholes that enforce the status quo. And you just don't have the stock portfolio for that.)

Better not be confident and awkward because then you might confuse and delight people

- you might accidentally end up making other people feel less shame for their social difficulties

- you might make isolated, traumatized, and shy people feel like they deserve to be included in social situations

- you might even make them feel they can be themselves around you

- you might start loving the effect you have on a room

- you might enjoy conversations more

- you might forgive yourself and bounce back from shame more easily and frequently

- you might come to enjoy some of those moments of harmless confusion you cause because NOBODY expects the Confident Awkward, and that can genuinely be an advantage in social situations

- you might stop apologizing so much.

- you might find that socializing is like a video game: it requires practice but also a safe space for it to be fun and positive.

Or if you can't become assertive and confident, better not remain awkward and shy and quiet, and then love and forgive yourself anyway!

Why, it would be carnage!!

In either scenario, you run the risk of finding out that it's not your fault that safe spaces full of kind people can be really hard to find, create, and nurture. You could end up building a skillset that helps you do those things if you're not careful!

If you start giving yourself even the tiniest amount of grace at a time, you will find that you've accessed a gateway drug with extreme long-term side effects:

- You might realize that it was never your fault that it took so long to like yourself.

- You might realize that you were always worth talking to, even when you didn't like yourself and communication felt impossibly difficult.

- You might realize that you'll still be worth talking to even if communication becomes harder as you age and/or experience disability.

- You might come to know that you deserve to be heard even on bad days when words come slow and blurry.

You might discover that you were always deserving of kindness, first and foremost from yourself.

So. As you can see, it's FAR too much of a risk to start granting your awkward self free pardons for your many heinous and harmless crimes. Better to just leave it there.