#it's not about me doing the dishes. its about this pathetic need to dominate you because you're a woman

[widevibratobitch]

killing my father with hammers. i get it's probably not that deep cause we're packing and it's all hands on deck but asking 'can you do the dishes?' and getting so condescendingly bitchslapped with 'no, you will do that' TWICE (second time i asked him to wash just the one mug he had just had tea in after id already done the dishes and AGAIN i heard 'no, you will wash it') is too fucking much.

[skzgene]

Camp mates. Minsung x Y/N

MDNI 🔞 Fem Reader | Mentions of sub/dom relationships, oral male and female receiving (f/m) (m/m) | Threesome, Fluid exchanges.. , unprotected sex (dont be silly!)

‼️ please note this story includes minho and jisung engaging in sexual acts ‼️

✨ A camping trip trio turns into another night of lust, needs & fun 🤫

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*BEEP BEEP*

The sounds of the car horn almost made you excited.. ‘wow im pathetic’ you thought to yourself.. but a weekend away camping with minho & jisung was just what you needed, the fresh air, the sunshine, the outdoors.. and most of all, the undeniable fun you were going to have being in such a secluded space with them both. Who knows what you would get up to? Maybe when all the activities ran out you could make some of your own..

You open the car door and throw your bag onto the backseat, lowering yourself into the car.

Jisung looks back at you with a smile on his face, he always seems so happy when your involved in plans.

‘Hi jagi’ he winks.

Minho is in the driver seat, one hand on the wheel and the other on jisungs thigh, so protective. If you didnt know better you would think you were third wheeling.

‘You ready to go?’ He says, starting up the engine.

‘All ready! Lets do this!’ You exclaim.

And with that, you begin your long journey to the outskirts of the city.

You eventually fall asleep in the car from the relaxation of the journey, before being woken up by a soft kiss on the cheek. You open your eyes to see jisung, holding the car door open for you and ushering you out of the car.

‘Were here sleepyhead’ he chuckles.

‘QUICKLY!!’ Shouts minho.

‘Better hurry up’ you laugh.

The three of you walk over to the camping pitch, the tent is already set up, fairy lights surround it and a fire burns just at the entrance, surrounded by 3 chairs.

The sun is starting to go down and sets a warm glow over the camping pitch while minho grills some pork belly.

God he looks irresistible when Hes focused and in his own little world.

You and jisung make small talk while minho dishes up the food on 3 seperate plates and takes a seat next to you.

‘Lets eat’ he glances over at you and you tuck into the food, hes like a culinary genius when it comes to his skills in the kitchen.. but all you seem to think about is his skills in the bedroom. You cant wait to be tucked up with them both later.

You eyes graze over his shoulders and down his forearms, taking in every bump and vein, god he turns you on.

‘Are you going to eat your food? Or are you just going to stare’ jisung grabs your attention, raising an eyebrow at you.

A smirk forms across his face while he places another portion of meat into his mouth, his cheeks puffing out slightly as he chews.

‘Shutup, we all know what you would rather devour right now’ you tease as you land a light tap onto his upper arm.

Minho stares at you both through furrowed brows, his gaze dominating.

You and jisung momentarily pause your teasing eachother to look back at him.

‘You two drive me insane. Just wait’ he mumbles.

You smile at jisung whos almost squirming in his seat and he winks back at you.

Around an hour passes of light chitchat, damn good food and warm fires, Before the three of you make the decision to go for a dip in the lake that surrounds the camping site.

‘Im only putting my feet in’ you shout out as the boys run towards the water.

‘Yeah whatever’ Minho shouts back.

You reach the edge of the pebbles as the water begins to rise over your toes and cover your feet and ankles. Its warm, refreshing almost, with the weather being so hot its nice to cool off slightly. But just as your starting to relax your lifted up in one quick swoop by minho, who begins to run full speed into the water.

‘PUT ME DOWN!!’ You cry out, pleading with him.

Mischievous chuckles escape minhos mouth as he releases his grip on you and drops you into the water. Your ass hits the bottom of the lake floor and your submerged up to your chest in water.

‘I hate you both’ you sulk.

Jisungs laugh fills the air, he finds this hilarious as him and minho high 5.

‘Yeah yeah, we’ll see about that later’ jisung teases.

Its getting dark and you begin your short walk back to the camping pitch, jisung has placed a towel around your shoulders to keep you warm until you get back to the warmth of the fire. You reach the front of the tent and walk inside, closely followed by minho.

‘Here, lets get you out of those wet clothes hmm’ he almost whispers to you.

Sliding your jumper up over your head, freeing your bare chest for him to glare at, he discards it to the side before tracing his fingertips down your sides, to the waistband of your soaked shorts. He pulls them down and you step out of them, kicking them to the side.

You stand in front of him in now just your panties.. which your not sure are wet from the lake, or from your own doing.

His gaze travels down your body, while he walks around to the back of you, taking a handful of your ass and squeezing it tightly.

You feel his breath on your neck as he brings his lips nearer to your ear.

‘I saw you staring earlier’ he mumbles into your ear. ‘Its a bad habit y’know’

His breath is hot, almost moist.. its asif his voice travels into the most intimate parts of your body as you feel a warmth in your core building.

He wraps a hand lightly around your jaw, making your head tilt back onto his shoulder before he kisses the nape of your neck, sloppy, messy kisses trail along your skin as your ass presses against his growing cock.

You grind yourself against him which in turn, does you no favours other than make you even more horny.

‘Bad habit? Then why does it get me such good rewards’ you hiss as you feel his teeth bite down onto your flesh.

‘I wouldn’t call it a reward, more so a punishment’ he growls into your ear.

You glance over to the entrance of the tent where jisung stands, his silhouette framed by the flames from the fire, such a tiny waist and such broad shoulders. God his proportions drive you insance.

‘Starting without me?’ Jisung sulks.

‘i saved the best part for you jagi’ minho responds.

Jisung walks over and kneels in front of you, his hands cup each side of your calf before running them up your legs, over your thighs and to the band of your now definitely soaked panties.

He slides them down, revealing your needy cunt to him, so close to his mouth.. its almost

Too much to ask of him to not immediately plant his mouth on your pussy, hes so drunk on you.

But he refrains, standing up and taking a breast into his mouth instead.

Minho continues to suckle and kiss your neck while jisungs tongue traces and flicks at

Your nipple. His touch is light but almost too much for you to handle.

Your ass is still pressed against minhos rock hard member as he watches jisungs tongue go to work on your body.

‘My turn’ he grunts.

Taking a fistful of jisungs hair in his hand, minho pulls him towards his mouth as there tongues meet eachother in an embrace thats almost too much for you to handle.

You stare lustfully at where there lips are joined together, so much so that you havent even noticed minhos fingers circling your cunt, prising your lips open to reveal your throbbing clit to his fingertips.

‘Oh my god, please, more!’ You moan as you take in your own pleasure, while simultaneously watching how jisung reacts to the pattern of minhos tongue in his mouth.

Little whimpers escape his lips as he struggles to catch his breath.

He pulls away and looks down to where minhos fingers trace your slit

‘Wait. I need a closer view’ he smirks.

He kneels down in front of you once more as minho uses one foot to kick your legs further apart, revealing your glistening slit to jisung, without hesitation he leans forward and plants his lips onto you.

‘Fuckkk’ you cry out.

Jisungs tongue goes to work, lapping at your juices, flicking and swirling around your clit as minhos fingers enter inside of you.

He pulls back to watch them slide in and out of your needy hole while your body writhes underneath minhos touch.

‘Damn, look how good you take my babys fingers’ he exclaims.

With that minho growls into your neck once again as his fingers get rougher inside of you, hitting your sweet spot while jisungs tongue continues to bring you to the brink of climax.

You feel your legs starting to get weaker as you reach your high, grinding against the tongue and fingers that pleasure your greedy pussy.

‘Be a good girl and keep your legs open for jisung, jagi.’ minho moans into your ear.

‘Im g-gonna cum’ you exclaim as you reach the peak of your climax, contracting around minhos fingers and taking a handful of jisungs hair, shoulers, neck.. anything you can grab for leverage to keep you stable and standing.

Your body begins to relax as Minhos fingers slide out of you and find there way to his own mouth, he sucks the wetness off them in one quick motion before lowering his own shorts.

Now raging hard, his dick springs free, revealing the weighty, thick, veiny cock which awaits some kind of touch.

Its jisung who grips onto it first, pumping it a few times before his tongue meets the tip, taking a small lick. You see a string of precum trail from the tip of minhos cock, attached to Jisungs tongue as he pulls away slightly, before lowering his mouth back along the length.

Minhos head tilts back in pleasure as he begins grinding his cock into jisungs mouth,

You notice jisung palming at himself through his shorts, seeking out any form of pleasure he possibly can get.

You make it your goal to help him, lying yourself down in front of him and tugging at his waistband to release what your mouth is so hungry for.

His cock looks like its about to explode and boy do you want it to be in your mouth.

You begin to suck the tip while gliding your hand against the length. which in turn makes jisung moan onto minho.

you hear minho grunt as he pushes the back of jisungs head, forcing his mouth further onto his length.

‘Watching you take him in your mouth like that, makes me want to cum here and now baby.’ He mutters.

He looks down at you, his breathing is heavy and unrhythmic.

You pick up your pace on jisungs cock, bobbing your head up and down over and over, waves of heat rushing over your own body at the sight of these 2 beautiful men in front of you.

Jisung pulls his length out of your mouth, ordering you to stop as he simultanously pauses his pleasuring of minho.

‘I want to fuck that pretty pussy’ he growls as he pulls you up by your hands to stand.

Minho places his hand on the small of your back and leads you over to the camping bed where jisung has taken a seat with his back resting against the headboard,

He orders you to sit with your back against jisung chest so of course, you do as your told.

You sit in between jisungs legs, the bumps and curves of his torso and chest against your body and his hard dick pressing against the small of your lower back, he slightly grinds himself into you as Minho takes a space facing you both.

‘Open your legs baby’. Minho whispers ‘let me see how hungry you are for my cock’

You slide your legs apart, revealing your needy, wet cunt to a very greedy minho. Who quickly takes a grasp of his throbbing cock, he slides it along your wet slit and you writhe in anticipation of him filling you up.

Jisungs hand trails down your chest and to where your pulsating clit awaits any touch it can possibly get.

He runs his fingers in circles against you as minho begins to enter his tip just inside of you.

‘Fuckk’ you moan pressing your head back against jisungs chest.

Jisung continues to rub circular motions against your clit as minho pushes himself in further, filling you up.

You stretch to his size with ease, its nothing you havent experienced before, you know how he feels and god you cannot get enough of him.

‘Look how well this tight little cunt takes all of me’ he hums.

Picking your legs up wider and placing his hands against the back of your thighs, pressing them into the mattress to open you up wider.

His eyes are locked onto your most intimate parts while he watches himself thrust inside of you while jisung rubs your swollen nub.

Jisungs other hand takes a hold of your neck as he continues to grind himself against your back.

The overwhelming feeling of pleasure causes you to melt underneath them both, minho is so dominant with you, fucking you hard and fast now, picking up his pace as if its the last time hes ever going to get to experience you like this, but your certain its not your last.

‘Oh my god, you feel so good baby’ you speak under muttered breaths

Minhos pace slows slightly as he takes the palm of your hand and places it on your lower stomach, pressing it down with his own hand to apply pressure.

‘Can you feel how deep i am’ he blurts out. ‘Feel how deep im buried inside you’.

Jisung lets a moan escape his mouth as his fingers pick up a rhythmic pace against your clit.

‘Fuck, im gonna cum !’ You shout out.

‘Wait for me beautiful’ minho commands.

He pumps inside of you a few more times as you reach your climax, riding out your high against jisung fingers as minho pulls out and leaves a stream of his hot white cum along your stomach.

Jisung dips a finger into minhos messy leftovers and takes it into his mouth, letting minho know just how good he tastes.

‘Now as for you’ he speaks lowly in your ear

‘Get on your knees, let me see that ass in the air’

Jisungs voice is breathy, needy and deep.

You do as he says and take a position infront of him on all fours.

Minho moves to the front of you as jisung lands a hard smack on your ass cheek, at this point your dripping everywhere, your own juices coating your thighs and the bed sheets that lay underneath you, but you simply do not care.

Minho takes a fistful of your hair and forces your mouth onto his length, guiding your lips up and down along his shaft.

You can taste the leftovers of his cum leaking out of the tip, along with your own juices which is dripping down his pelvis and onto his thighs.

Your so caught up in whats of front of you that you dont realise whats behind..

Thats when jisung smacks your ass, hard. Stinging washes over you ass cheek as you feel the blood rush to where his hands have left a monumental print on your body, you writhe and push yourself back against him before he slides himself into your awaiting entrance, hes not as long as minho, but the girth stretches you out in a way you just can not get enough of.

‘Oh my, fuck!’ You scream out.

His hips pummel against your ass cheeks, his thrusts unrhythmic, messy & oh so needy.

‘Mmm, thats it jagi, shake that ass on my dick’ he says, grabbing each cheek in his hands and rocking you back and forth.

Meanwhile you still have minho in front of you the tip of his long member hitting the deepest part of your throat, you gag as you look up at him, saliva pooling from your mouth. His eyes flicker between jisung pounding you from the back and you taking him in your mouth like a Proffesional.

You moan around him, pressing your lips tighter as jisung pounds into you from the back.

Jisungs hands move over and grabs the back of minhos neck, pulling him into a deep and sloppy kiss,

You see them over the top of you, lips and tongues exploring each-others mouths, little moans escaping them as they continue fucking your pussy and mouth simultaneously.

Jisungs hand eases from minhos neck as he is manhandled by minho, who takes a hold of his throat, squeezing the sides with his index finger and thumb , staring him deep in the eyes.

He mutters something in korean, you barely understand but god it sounds so hot..

You realise it must of been something filthy when hans eyes roll back in his head and he releases a hot load inside of you, his head throws back and his hands grip either side of your pelvis tighter as he mutters incoherent words of praise about his climax.

You finally reach yours and join jisungs high as he releases ropes of his cum deep inside of you.

Minho moans heavily as he pulls out of your mouth, pulling you both so your mouths are pressed against either side of his tip, he pumps his own length a few more times as you and jisung explore eachothers tongues and minhos cock, before releasing his load onto your awaiting tongues.

‘Now, be good and show me how you swallow all of my mess’ he smirks, a slight grin forming on his face.

You and jisung kiss for a final time before swallowing minhos juices, god he tastes so damn sweet.

Minho leaves the bed to grab some warm washcloths and a blanket, returning and wiping you both down, before giving himself a wipe over, he lies on the bed and taps either side of him for you and jisung to join him, your breaths struggle to catch up with your heart rates as you prop yourselves up either side of leeknow, placing a head on each shoulder.

‘We should do that again some time’ jisung suggests.

‘I agree, who knew camping was this fun’ you chuckle.

‘I agree, but i feel sorry for the neighbours’ Minho exhales.

‘who cares what they think’ you mumble..

You could stay here forever.

[morgana-ren]

SUBMISSION: How about a nasty sweaty incel shiggy waiting everyday for his dad to go to work so that he could have his relief with stepmom? 

Excellent submission! Love that. Love that a lot! I find it only fair to warn you, however, that I won’t be doing mommy kink for it. Mommy kink is one of my squicks, and one of the very, very few I have. I’ll do the closest thing to it though: Daddy kink. Also I find the irony of him making his little stepmom call him daddy to be absolutely hilarious.

Also this one is a great concept and I love it but it’s going to have to be a multi-parter cause it got a little bit long. Lemme know if you like the concept and I’ll continue it. Also this posted under anonymous for some reason so cheers to tumblr and its endless fucking glitches that it never fixes or seems to make any better.

Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, sexism, really gross incel behavior, nsfl things, masturbation, violent sexual fantasies, nefarious planning, horrible suggestions from even more horrible friends, absolute LOATHING of family, and entitled bastard.

There is only one thing on this planet that Tomura hates more than his father.

Only one thing can even compare to the level of abject disgust he has for his dad. Everything about the man is abhorrent and degenerate, only tolerated because Tomura is, admittedly, a NEET, and had no where else to go after graduation. But if anything- anything- could hold a candle, it would be his taste in women.

All women are trashy on some level, but his dad really manages to find ones that pretend so hard that they aren’t. Vipers behind the veneer of smiling faces clad in red lipstick and smart skirts. Always “kind”, always “thoughtful”, and always fleeting. Fickle, stupid bimbos charmed by his dads surface level charisma to quickly realize just how shallow the pool became.

Even his own mom was like that: She fucked off once she realized staying with him meant staying with his dad, and that was a sacrifice she wasn’t willing to make. So she left him to rot in this cesspit with his worthless father and no other way out.

He figures he can’t hold it against her, not as much as he’d like. A few weeks with his shriveled up paternal figure and most women quickly figure out they can do so much better. It’s in their nature to seek out the best, and that certainly isn’t Kotaro; A bumbling idiot with nothing to offer on the best of days. They don’t know any better, so they never last long after being brought home to meet his son, and those are the ones that even make it that far.

So when he starts yammering on about meeting yet another skank and how ‘in love’ he already is, Tomura’s eyes roll so far back in his head that he swears his retinas will detach. He makes a point to be around as little as possible, but somehow still manages to catch an earful about his latest fling and how excited he is for Tomura to meet her.

Great.

True to his word, Kotaro brings you home one evening, eager to impress his son with his latest catch.

His father had a lot of nerve dragging him from his room to meet you- his latest glorified slut. Adding insult to injury, you had the unmitigated gall to talk down to him like you were an adult and he wasn’t. Even though you had to crane your neck to look up and greet him, you still talked at him like he was some child. So different from you even though you were so much smaller than he was- barely even a few years older than he is, if even that. 

So polite, introducing yourself and gently shaking his reluctant hand, making a point to smile at him and telling him how happy were to finally meet him and that you’d heard so much about him. Your hands were so soft, so little in comparison to his own. He dwarfs his pathetic father, practically towers over you, yet you still talk to him like you’re the adult in the equation.

So young, so pretty, though. Far better than anything his father had a right to pull. They weren’t exactly swimming in cash, the house was nothing in particular to gloat about, and he’d done enough eavesdropping around late at night to know his father suffered a particular… ailment, so it certainly wasn’t sexual satisfaction keeping you around. What was it then? 

Probably nothing. You’d probably run off in a few weeks like they all do.

Kotaro is a worthless sack of drooping skin and aging bones; A ghost of a man not worthy of the phantoms he’s seen pass in his years. No longer the dominant male even in his own home: not with a stronger, more virile son coming into his prime under the roof as well. A beta male at best, withering away while his own son eclipses him in strength and intellect and physique. Tomura is in his mid twenties and blooming- His father… who even knows. He doesn’t care- he doesn’t bother to keep track. 

So, maybe you really are just a dumb little whore. It would make sense. Father dearest always had been a dirty old man; A raging pervert with wandering hands and lingering eyes. Always sets his predatory sights on some cute thing too good for him. 

Then again, the poisoned apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, now does it?

You’re cute enough you could have gotten some alpha at your beck and call, yet you’ve attached yourself to his worthless father who, in turn, parades you around like his most beloved trophy. Taking you to dinners he can’t afford despite your ‘insistence’ that you be allowed to pay, buying you things you claim you don’t need. Oh, how the moron dotes on his whores as if it’s enough to keep them anchored to him.

Strangely though, you don’t run off.

If anything, you sink your claws in even further, getting more and more comfortable and showing up more and more. Every time Tomura leaves his fucking room- which isn’t often- you’re there around the corner, smiling dumb and pretty and greeting him politely.

Fuck, he hates you. Hates your stupid voice, your shitty dresses, hates hearing his father happy for once.

It’s no surprise- but unwelcome no less- that he’d move you in sooner rather than later. Terrified to let you out of his sight for even a second lest you come to what little senses you have in your tiny brain and dump him. Of course, he’s quick to take on all of your burdens as his own, even if it means working overtime to support you. He’s always wanted another little housewife, and now he’s so close.

Tomura listens in on the whole conversation feeling sick to his gut.

You beg him not to- offering to pay your own way just like a good girl, but of course his dumbass dad will hear none of it. He’s more than happy to spend a couple of extra hours at work. His dad is so idiotic, so fucking blind. He’s playing right into it. He’s willing to be your workhorse if it means keeping you all to himself.

He’ll hear none of it. None of the fussing or the questions. You’re welcome in his home, he wants you there. It’s no imposition at all, he knows the house will be better with you around.

Except he forgets one crucial detail-

The son he leaves home alone with you every single day when he leaves. 

You’re nothing but a nuisance, something infringing on his private space. The time he used to get home alone to spend to his own devices is now split with you flittering around the house doing whatever it is bimbos like you do. Cleaning, cooking, pretending to read, whatever. He doesn’t have to see you if he doesn’t want, sure, but he still knows you’re there and that’s more than enough to annoy him.

It’s almost like you catch on to his animosity after a while. The way he won’t greet you back, the way he utterly ignores your existence. It bugs you, and as far as he’s concerned, good.

You try to slip him up, try to get close to him and make him like you. You always set a place for him at the table even after Kotaro repeatedly insists- truthfully- that he’ll never join for dinner. Even then, you always bring the plate to his door. He never bothers to answer- not after the first few times when he only opened it a sliver to see your stupid smiling face. After that, he didn’t bother answering. He’ll eat it of course- won’t pass up free food he doesn’t have to leave his room for- and then leave the dirty dish back outside where you left it. You brought it, after all. You can clean it up. 

All your efforts only get you mocked, and boy do you try so hard to get his affection. He even overhears you whining to his dad once or twice, not understanding why he doesn’t like you.

It makes him smile.

His friends- online of course, but still friends or comrades or kindred spirits or whatever- have more opportunistic ideas about it. His first post to the forum complaining about the new living situation was met with envy and awe- not necessarily the response he was expecting, though looking back on it, he supposes they were right. 

lmpwrst: Why u bitchin’? Ur living with a girl ur not related to and that’s closer than any of us have gotten u ungrateful ass

KingKockRool: Go jerk off on her pillow.

Stacystabber91: take a video hold her down and fuck her then idiot

KingKockRool: No wait till she’s sleeping and jerk it on her face

st8lker: Bet she’s ugly tho if she’s dating your dad lol

Oddly enough, he doesn’t agree. That’s one thing he understands about you, loathe as he is to admit it. His new ‘stepmom’, for all her annoyances, is pretty easy on the eyes. The kinda girl that would have caught his eye in an unrelated situation and earned a permanent spot in his spank bank. Thinking about it, the whole ‘dating his dad’ situation maybe threw off his judgement more than he realized.

He’ll let the jury decide: He finds a photo on your social media, crops everyone else out of it, and hits enter. Easy peasy. He saves it to his hard drive for later too. Might as well.

‘Here, you decide then.’

Thus the shitstorm begins. 

st8lker: Oh fuckkk fuck me mommy lmao

lmpwrst: Opportunity is wasted on u

Stacystabber91: you pussy punk bitch, i stand by what I said earlier. dont be a bitch and fuck the little cunt already

VolceliSwear: Whos the bitch

lmpwrst: Scratchy’s new stepmommy lol 

VolceliSwear: Nice. Hit it yet?

Stacystabber91: he hasn’t cause he’s a gigantic fuckin pussy like i told you all

VolceliSwear: Come on dude you actually have that gash sleeping in your house and you haven’t made a move? 

Stacystabber91: it’s not like she could say no cause you’re a big lanky bastard aren’t you? that’s one thing we got over the shortcels and you’re bigger and stronger than her so take what’s yours idiot or I will 

lmpwrst: I agree with SS lol U complain all the time about not having a hole to fuck and now u do

VolceliSwear: ^^ Isn’t your dad a limp-dicked prick who can’t get it up? Someone’s gotta do it so it might as well be you. Hit the bitch so hard and fast she doesn’t know what way is up

Stacystabber91: and send pics moron I want to see tits or I’m coming over there to do it myself

It’s an… intriguing thought. To be honest, he’s never actually considered fucking you before. Had the passive thought like he does with most girls he sees, but never stopped to think on actually doing it. For some reason, there was a mental wall between him and his father’s girlfriends. But why should there be?

Depraved little bastard that he is, he’s not above cornering a girl and forcing himself on her but he’s not keen on going to jail, so he’s never escalated past creepy photos and following the occasional broad a little too closely. Maybe a couple gropes in passing… okay, maybe a lot. But he’s never gotten caught- maybe the girls don’t report it or just couldn’t find him afterward. Either way, it’s all worked out so far because he doesn’t cross certain boundaries.

Most girls are repulsed by him and his repugnant behavior, so they stay far, far away. It’s like he’s a giant blaring warning sign that they tend to heed instinctively.

But you don’t. 

This is different. You live here, so close to him, so within reach. Just how close you are. How easy it would be for him to force you down and make you take it. Just how much time alone he really has with you since his father leaves and returns like clockwork. He’s got the entire day once his father leaves for work. And all night once he takes his sleeping medication. An easy, pretty little catch already wiggling in his web.

 ‘Maybe I will.’ 

That’s how it starts. 

Snowball into snowstorm.

With an idea and a lot of goading from his online buddies, a monster is born and weaned on his own depravity and escalates into something very real, and very dangerous.

Tomura is achingly familiar with the scene- he’s seen enough porn to give him ample ideas. But he’s got all the time in the world. It’s hard not to rush things considering how eager he is, but it’s safer to test the waters first. Get you nice and scared so you’ll keep your pretty mouth shut unless he tells you to open it for him. See how far he can get, how much he can toy with you before you finally catch on.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll fuck him willingly. You are a stupid little slut, after all. Most of you females are deep down beneath that holier-than-thou, stuck up bitchiness you hide behind.

So he starts with a time honored tradition. He steals your panties. 

The bathroom is cluttered with your shit. Your fruity shampoos and conditioners, your makeup, your perfumes. Tomura has a toothbrush and a comb he doesn’t use, a bottle of 3-1 for when he forces himself into a shower, and a singular gray towel, but the rest is between you and his father. Your body washes, your scrubs, your clothes in the hamper. 

It’s easy enough to fish out a fresh pair- only a couple of hours old. Some lacy contraption you must’ve been wearing beneath your clothes and carelessly left in the bin when you showered. It’s easy to pocket them before you hear him rummaging around, and maybe you’ll miss them, but that’s not his problem. Washer eats things all the time, doesn’t it?

He’s hidden back in his room, safely dodging you before he allows himself to indulge- Bringing them to his nose and inhaling the doubled fabric of the crotch so hard that it catches on the edge of his nostrils. 

Fuck, your cunt smell good- tangy and sweet but the tiniest hint of bitter. A couple of whiffs is enough to get his cock twitching, inflating into a painful hardness as he hears you walking around outside in the hallway. Shit, you’re so fuckin’ airheaded, walking around so oblivious as he tongues at the cloth that was nestled right up against your pussy until a few hours ago. He can taste you, sucking your left over essence through his teeth and he swears he’s going to cream all over the inside of his jeans if he doesn’t jerk off right now. 

He’s quick to drop his sweats and sprawl on his bed, thumbing the tip of his prick and licking gratuitous stripes up the slim of your discarded panties with his tongue. You’d look so good sucking his cock; On your bruised knees, face a slathered mess of cum and saliva and running makeup. Bulge in your throat from taking him so deep and trying so hard to please him like you always do- or maybe avoid a painful punishment because he isn’t above using his hands on you and you learned that the hard way.

The thought of your ruddy, soppy face makes him throb- fucking your wet little throat until you’re suffocating, pulling out to let you breathe only to cum on your face. Yanking you up to bend you over the stove and force you to make his worthless father’s dinner with his spend tacking across your face and his cock lodged deep in your cunt. Worthless fucking sack of shit that his father is, he’d spit in it too and make you serve it to him with a smile while your actual daddy watches you do it and rewards you later with his dick fucking you between your tits.

Fuck yes, that’s what he’ll make you do. He’ll make you call him daddy when he creampies you- the opportunity is too perfect to pass. He’ll fuck his father’s pretty whore as she screams and moans for daddy’s cock while his father is away at work to pay all her frivolous bills like the beta-cuck he is. None of the work and all of the reward- as it should be.

It’s not like Kotaro can fuck you, and his friends are right. Someone should. So why not him? Why not spread your legs for your boyfriend’s younger, more powerful son? Oh, sorry, did he give you the illusion that you had a choice? He’ll take what is rightfully his and there’s not a fucking thing you or his pathetic fucking father can ever do about it.

He plucks your panties from his face, moving them instead to work over his cock. It would feel so much better if you were wearing them- grinding your sweet little cunt against his dick, begging him not to fuck you but getting so wet all the same. The silky fabric feels so good against his hypersensitive skin, coupled with the clenched pumping of his fist as he daydreams about railing you into his filthy mattress until you’re too weak to even move on your own, his cum dripping from every one of your used holes. Limp, useless little whore too fucked out to even fight him as he fucks her in the ass again-

Fantasies swirl in his head, flashes of scenarios that tease him and work him into a frenzy. He’s going to cum hard to the thought filling you, your agonized face as the tip of him knocks against the opening of your womb, buried so deep in your cute pussy that he can feel the wall that keeps him firmly locked out of your guts. So close, so tight, so warm. He’s going to pump you full to the brim like the skank you are, fill you nice and thick full of his seed and then use you again and again and again-

He feels it in his spine, waves of pleasure furling at the base and congealing together impossibly tight, so ready to burst. His thighs flex, muscles in his stomach tightening and breath staggering. Searing white behind dry, clenched eyes and his cock twitches in his palm, knot bursting deep between his legs as his hand stills momentarily. His hands twitch, cock throbbing as thick ropes of cum spill over the slats of his fingers, splattering his stomach and the waist of his sweatpants and all over your adorable little panties. 

“Shit-” 

Shallow, shaky breaths, still seeing stars popping behind his eyelids. Fuck, he hasn’t cum that hard in- well, a very long time. Is it the thought of having something tangible soon? His very own cunt to abuse? Grinning, he looks down at the absolutely drenched pair in his hand, sticky with fresh seed.

He thinks so.

Instinctively, he wipes the excess off his fingers and onto his dirty, rumpled black sheets, swiping across his shirt and his skin. Just another ‘mystery spot’ among the rest, soon to become a crusty, flaked white stain on the fabric among all the preexisting ones.

With some effort on his part, he sits up, still trying to catch his breath. He thought post orgasm clarity might deter him from this path, but if anything, he’s even more determined now. Why should he sit and touch himself in a dark room when there’s a perfectly good set of holes to fuck wandering around freely outside?

Oh yeah, this should work out just fine.

There’s a knock on the door while he’s still wading through his gross thoughts, softly at first but then slightly more insistent. It jolts him alert, irritating him that he’s being bothered when he’s scheming. He’s already finished the dirty dead, all ready to put himself away for now but it’s still jarring none the less when someone comes around so closely to him wanking. A quick dash at the clock tells him it’s not dinner time yet, so what gives? Why are you bothering him now? Nothing is ready yet.

He tucks himself away and quickly buries your soiled underwear in the pocket of his sweats. Quickly wiping any remnants on the knees of his pants before swinging his door open, agitation palpable as he greets your stupid, sunny face.

Speak of the she-devil.

“Hi, Tomura! Just wondering if you have any laundry or anything you want me to take!” “N-”  He’s about to slam the door. About to. But you know what? You want his laundry? Sure. He’s got some for you.  “Yeah- yeah, sure.” 

He steps back from behind the door, letting it creak open a little as he rips off his freshly re-soiled sheets.

“Oh, good! Yeah, I’m throwing in my own so I’ll take your load too-“

Yeah you will.

Balling it up, he chucks it at you as you curiously peek your head in. You’ve never seen the inside of his room, but soon you’ll see plenty. He doesn’t know if you can feel the fresh cum on the sheets, but he’s willing to bet you can probably smell it. To your credit, you barely falter, even with the sheet cradled in your bare arms.

You’re probably having a moment of “understanding.” ‘He’s a young man with no girlfriend and no other outlet. Of course he’s going to wack off’ and all that. It’s cute, the way you pretend not to notice. That’s okay, he’ll give you something you can’t ignore.

He steps up to the door again, yanking his black shirt over his head and dropping it in your arms with a shit eating grin.

“Oh- okay, yeah-“

Your sentence halts completely as he starts to strip off his pants and you’re left staring in slight horror as your stepson strips down to his boxers in front of you before placing his sweats on the top of the pile you’re carrying- right by your face.

“I’ve got some more dirty boxers if you think you can handle anymore.” He’s grinning like a fiend, reveling in your poorly concealed discomfort as he leans against the doorframe, swinging out towards you. You’re backing away from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes up and away from his very exposed body, and especially the half hard cock tenting the front of his boxers. Your face is turning a viciously dark shade, stifling your breathing because he just knows what you’re refusing to see, you can almost certainly smell.

“Um- nope! This should be a full one! I’ll get them back to you soon!”

“Oh, take your time. No rush.” 

You scurry off down the hall much quicker than your usual casual walk, probably to scrub your arms clean with iron wool. Poor little thing, just trying to be nice and this is what it gets you.

He cackles something fierce as he shuts his door again, going to look for your ruined panties to post a pic but remembering they’re still in the pocket of his sweatpants, covered in his cum and saliva. A fun little surprise for you to find when you go through pockets to ensure nothing gets stuck in the washer.

And he notices, in the coming days, you stop leaving your clothes in the hamper- or even being able to meet his eyes.

Oh, this should be fun.

[insufferablelust]

The Artist And His Muse (vii)

Warnings : Dom!Spencer x Sub!Reader, BDSM Talk, Slight smut (thigh riding, denied orgasm), another build up heheh, lots of pet names, cute stuff too! its pretty tame just wait until you see the next chapter :)

I would also like to say that, some aspects of this story is not consistent with the actual series, i make some changes to fit the plot lines better. Full credit to the creators and directors of the series though.

MASTERLIST.

————

To worship—as if he’s the prophet of our own religion, he’s the epitome of her own beating heart, affections are richer than gold, and pleasure is the Valhalla.

—————

“3 years, Princess.”

You’re fucked, Once again.

—————

Y/N’s plushy lips trembled displaying her bursting confusion. Her eyes trained to Spencer, the gaze was intense between the two— so intense that they could feel their very skin burned with desire—want, need.

She tried to recall, each night tracing back to the times she went to that godforsaken club just to let loose, just to feel someone taking control of her, just to let go. She tried so hard to see if he was in one of her flashing memories, refusing to believe that he knew so much about her, so deep within her that it almost feels like she could feel his very presence in her bloodstream just taunting her in the most pleasant way.

“Have you ever—“ Her voice cracked as she opened her mouth, dismissing every embarrassment and lust that crept up her spine, hugging her skin like a thick blanket.

“Ever tried to say hello to you? No. Ever tried to punch the guy you submitted to at the time? No. Ever tried to give you a collar and claim you then and there? No. But do i want to? More than anything, Y/N.” The dominance within his voice sent extreme chills to her core, she thought back to all the times she was with someone there,

Fantasia is the name of the club, an all members only exclusive BDSM club that Y/N was sure no one would know who she is or that she worked with FBI. The rules of the club are unique, All the Submissives were obligated to wear dresses and their member collar, the Dominants were to wear suits and hold their member pendant. If the Dominant and Submissive agreed on spending the night together or perhaps more— the pendant will be placed right in the center of the subs collar, so that everyone else knows that the sub is taken. Usually it only lasted for a night— for Y/N a week was her longest.

“W-Why didn’t you?” Her eyes searched for any kind of emotion behind his, but all she could find was the lust and desire— though she believed that hers would tell the same tale. Her breath hitched as he stand up from your seat and cup your jaw in his palm, the grip was strong and sure to which he then leaned down to whisper, “Because i knew if i said hello, i wouldn’t be able to stop myself from keeping you all to myself forever. You drove me crazy, didn’t you know that pet?”

You gulped, eyes staring into him and confidently muttered, “You drove me crazy too. Wasn’t good was it? to see me get manhandled by another?” You raised an eyebrow, and hold onto his wrist tightly, you want to see him, see all the dominance that he has to offer— you craved it.

Sure enough, his hand went from a grip to a choke as he tightly wrapped them around your neck and making sure his fingertips pressed right against your beaming pulse. “Careful, Y/N. No girl of mine would behave this way.” He tuts, head shaking in disappointment which made you tremble a little and muttered “Sorry sir.” Underneath your breath “I want to be yours...” You trailed, biting your lips as you do so.

“And i want you to be mine, Princess. But we have to discuss lots of things. This is dangerous line we’re crossing, in every aspect possible.” It was like as if his eyes demanded you to obey and say yes to everything he said.

“Yes sir.”

“We have to be extra careful, and really pay attention to every single detail you hear me?” He gripped your chin, as you nodded, “We can’t tell anyone can we?” You bit your lip hard as your gaze moved down and sighed heavily, it’s not that you’re worried, it’s just that you want to be able to love him whenever wherever, be his at all times.

“No, not now at least. We’ll find a way to let Hotch know but with everything that’s going on, we have to take it slow.” He frowned as he sees the way your face fell, his thumb pried your lips open and push it in, “Listen to me, I love you, and i want us to be together— we’re together but we have to make some compromises in order for this to work, bunny.” You nodded your head as your eyes fluttered shut and mumble a small “i know, i love you too Spencer.”

Spencer smiled, his lips pressing a deep kiss on her forehead before drawing back, “Alright lets clean these up then we can go ahead and discuss limits okay?” He tugged his thumb out of your lips, muttering a small “pretty..” as he watched your lips tried to chase it. “Yeah, okay.” You leaned in and kiss his lips before you both went on to wash the dishes.

————

“This is how it’s going to work Y/N, i believe you’re experienced enough to know these things right?” He spoke, voice heavy on the air as you two sat on the couch with you on one side and him on the other. His thighs parted, as he watched you intently, making sure to follow your every gesture and move, to see which ticked you.

“Yeah, um i mean i’m familiar with the basics.. although i’m still not sure where we’re standing here— l-like what’s our relationship?” He smiles gently at your soft tone, knowing how nervous you are, so he leaned in closer and pat his thighs. “lay your head on my lap, Y/N.”

“Is that an order, sir?” You nervously giggled, trying to lighten up the mood. Spencer’s eyebrow twitched as he sighed heavily and quickly reach back to tug on your hair pulling your head backwards, pressing a small kiss below your ear before whispering with a chuckle, “I’m glad you’re having fun now, but after we have our rules— you’d wish you never ran your pretty mouth again.” His mocking tone caused you to breathe heavily and let a whine slip through your lips.

“I-“ The only gesture he made was patting on his lap on more time before you complied and rest your cheeks against the harsh material of his pants before looking up to see him with an amused smile, whispering a soft “Good girl.” That mase you squirmed on his lap.

“We don’t have to put labels on it Y/N..” He trailed as he smiled down at you with his fingers on your hair, “I’m yours, and you’re mine.” He whispered it this time, fluttering his eyes shut for a moment as you did the same, feeling the overwhelming warmth seeped through your skin.

“I know, i love you..” You reached his hand, then placing a lingering kiss on his palm which he replied with a smile and whisper of ‘i love you too.’ before intertwining your fingers together.

“Now as for this, you’ll tell me your hard limits, and then we’ll move on to soft ones. But first we need to establish a safe word, angel.” He muses, wetting his lips as you rake through your brain, “trooper” You chuckled and he laughed.

“You’re such a star wars nerd aren’t you?” He shook his head as you pouted up at him cutely and shrugged “as if you aren’t with your dr who and star trek stuff” you huffed which he chuckled at,

“alright alright, now go on tell me your limits princess.”

—————

As soon as you’re finished writing your list, you handed them over to Spencer with blushing cheeks and warmth spreading over your belly—the way he read it intently, skimming over each word is enough to give you orgasmic type of feeling.

“You sure you want to put, wax play to your hard limits?” He asked softly, letting her know that he has no intention of shaming or judging her causing you to blush slightly, and nuzzle your nose on his thighs.

“I just—“ You were about to reply before you feel a strong grip on your hair, pulling them back with enough force that it made your core even more drippy and your scalp ached.

“If you are to be mine, you’ll answer each question as you look at me. Is that clear?” The hand that wasn’t on your hair, held the paper tightly, “Yes, sir. I’m sorry sir.” Your answers were timid as you pulled away and cleared your throat,

“I tried it before.. and i’m into it but i just don’t like how it feels after, i love the marks but it doesn’t feel as good on my skin. I guess it’s not a super hard limit more leaning towards the soft, and i’m okay to try it some times but maybe give me a warning first?” Your eyes blinked rapidly, as you feel the bile on your throat pushing up in a response of nervousness.

Spencer chuckled as he leaned in to cup your cheeks, “You’re so cute, it’s hard for me not to take you right here. But yes, i’m okay with that plus i could mark you up just fine.” There was a teasing glint on his eyes before he went back to read the list, normally it would’ve taken him seconds but he wanted to savor and make mental notes inside his head.

“We pretty much have the same limits, bunny. You also put vanilla as a part of your list of preferences so we’ll do some of that too okay?” His gentle tone made you blush even harder as you nodded slightly and respond with a small “Yes sir, thank you.”

“Is there any name you don’t wanna be called with? Name calling is a big part of degradation, although not always— in fact i could make you turn into a pathetic whimpering mess without even saying a word.” He muses, enjoying the way you squirmed harder on the couch as you shook your head quickly,

“I’m okay with... any names you deemed fit.” You murmured, earning a soft hum from him before you continued, “S-Sir..”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Could you maybe um— try it?”

“Making a mess out of you without saying anything..?”

“Yes sir..”

As if you’ve said the magic word, his thighs buckled upwards, grinding against your heat as his thumb brush over your clothed nipples and his breath hit your neck, kissing over the marked skin gently, making you let out choked out moans and mewls when he wrapped his hand around your neck.

“Oh look at you, practically humping my thigh like a desperate mindless little girl that you are. Maybe you’ll learn not to run your mouth next time, isn’t that right baby?” He tightened the grip on your neck as he laughed condescendingly, “I asked you a question.” He released his hand from your neck letting them toying against both of your nipples now,

“Y-Yes! yes please sir..” You were a whimpering mess as you keep on grinding your core against his clothed thigh feeling yourself getting close to your climax

“Ah.. pretty baby wants to come doesn’t she?” Just as you were about to ask, you heard his phone ring causing you both to groan,

“Looks like i got a case baby, we’ll finish this later hm?”

“But- But!”

“Shh, be good and go to your scheduled appointment today. I’ll see you when i get back. I love you, and i’ll text you as many times as i can.”

And with a final kiss on the lips, and forehead he was gone, leaving you wet and needy on your couch. Fine, if he wanted to play that way,

he’ll definitely hate the bratty version of you.

————

tell me what you think on the comment or send me a message, Tag list is open just let me know if you want in! thank you!

( @blancastans @spencerwaltergubler @slutforthegubes @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @babybloomer @liaabsurd @midnightsubmissives @addie5264 @maybankslut @secretpickleprofessordean @raiford-cash @magnificentmgg @dancesingactliv )

[babyybitchhhwrites]

Toji x Reader 18+

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 4562

Warnings: incest, father/daughter, noncon, manipulation tactics, degradation, choking, creampie, unprotected sex, dead dove do not eat

A/N: Heed the warnings, this one is not particularly nice. Big brother Megumi has tried his best to make up for Toji's emotionally unavailable father schtick but it just didn't work the way he'd hoped.

: ^ )

♥♥♥♥

You’re half awake and only distantly aware of the mattress dipping behind you. It feels like a dream at first, one you can’t quite shake even when you open your eyes and groggily blink into the suffocating darkness that surrounds you. There’s some kind of disconnect between your resting body and your waking mind which all too readily tries to write it off as your brother crawling into bed with you even though you haven’t slept together in ages. Even though you know in a vague, abstract sort of way that he has school in the morning and wouldn’t be caught dead sneaking into your room under normal circumstances, let alone in the dead of the night. There was too much risk involved and not enough incentive to take the chance. He’d never done this before, so why start now?

Even knowing - despite knowing it can’t possibly be Megumi for a multitude of reasons, you still want to accept this explanation and go back to sleep. You have school too, after all. There was a big geometry test awaiting you during first period. Or was it biology? You can’t quite recall, still mostly asleep and too tired to think properly. It didn’t really matter what it was though, because you’d never hear the end of it if you were too indisposed to concentrate and ended up with a failing grade. That was the very last thing you needed right now.

Deciding to take the easy route and just ream him a new one in the morning, you snuggle into your pillow with a quiet, sleepy groan and make a conscious effort to drift off again. You barely make out the gruff responding laugh over the rustling sheets and then he settles in behind you.

Your eyes immediately snap open again. That is not Megumi. The build was all wrong. Too big and too firm with hard musculature that does not match your brothers lean body composition. Whoever was behind you felt massive in comparison, as oppressive as they were imposing, and it quickly becomes apparent that you can’t turn a blind eye anymore when they snake a steel corded arm around your middle. You start to quake.

“Wha -“

“Shh. You don’t want to wake your brother, do you?”

It’s as if a rug had been torn out from under your feet.

“Dad?” You warble into the void, hardly daring to believe it was really him. He’d been gone for almost three weeks now and this was how he chose to announce he was back?

“Of course. You weren’t expecting someone else, were you?”

Although his tone is light, bordering on playful, you couldn’t have missed the hint of something far more dangerous lurking just below the surface of that question even if you’d wanted to. He was teasing you, yes. But he was also testing you.

“Don’t be silly.” You murmur, glad your voice doesn’t crack under the pressure. “You just surprised me, that’s all. I was sleeping.”

“I know. I didn’t want to wait until morning to see you though.” Issuing a soft sigh, Toji presses his mouth to the nape of your neck in a chaste but not quite innocent kiss. Goosebumps erupt across your skin and you involuntarily shudder, clutching the bedsheet in a death grip that only becomes tighter when he presses himself right up against your back. You’re not sure how you didn’t make the connection sooner when that hard muscle mass was so uniquely his. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes. I always do.”

Humming in a rare show of approval - something he kept in reserve specifically for times like this - he slowly drags his calloused hand up your twitching stomach one agonizing inch at a time. The thin tank top you’d put on for bed bunches and you find yourself arching into his touch when he not so gently palms the weight of your breast before giving it an encouraging squeeze. A gasp rattles out of you and in to the night, which he responds to with a dull groan of his own.

“That’s my girl. Always so good for daddy.”

You whimper, screwing your eyes shut against the onslaught of conflicting emotions that constantly follow in your fathers wayward path of destruction. It wasn’t that you didn’t realize this was wrong. The exact opposite, in fact. No matter how much you might have wanted to, there was simply no denying that something was inherently inappropriate about these clandestine encounters with him or that this was not a normal parent-child relationship. You knew none of your friends let their dads touch them like this. You also knew Megumi wasn’t on the receiving end of any such preferential treatment. Just you.

But there was still a very real part of your psyche that enjoyed this time together, even if it was twisted and fucked up. Fushiguro Toji was not an easy man to live with and he wasn’t exactly forthcoming when it came to affection. For as long as you could remember, you’d grown up believing wholeheartedly that he hated you. Wished you’d never been born in the first place. It was impossible not to think that way when he was so distant, both physically and emotionally, even when you were too little to understand that that's just how he was. Your older brother had been more of a parent to you than he ever had.

That changed shortly after your thirteenth birthday though, when you were well into the throes of puberty and he suddenly became keenly aware of your developing body. You’d caught him staring more times than you could count, not so subtly eying you up in every room of the apartment like a predator taking stock of its next potential meal, and even now you were ashamed to recall how much that had delighted you. He’d never given you so much attention before and you were desperate for more. Hadn’t even realized that you were so starved for his approval until you started parading around in close to nothing, much to Megumi’s barefaced horror, but you were far beyond the point of salvation at that point. You needed your father to like you in some capacity, even if it meant acting like a brazen little slut to accomplish that.

It worked, too. Of course it did. How could you have ever expected anything less when the shorts kept getting shorter and you refused to wear a bra no matter how sore your budding tits got from rubbing against the inside of your shirt? You were essentially tossing a slab of meat into the wolves den, and he’d responded in kind. Met your challenge head on and with even greater ferocity than you could ever have hoped to muster. You hadn’t exactly planned on becoming a stand in for your deceased mother but, well … there was only so much poking and prodding an apex hunter would put up with before asserting his dominance. You’d brought it on yourself, really.

And now he was groping your chest with a steady hand, not even a hint of reluctance in his body language. He had accepted your naive, childishly issued invitation and the parameters were set in stone the moment you’d submitted to whatever maladjusted treatment he felt the need to dish out. There was no going back now, no room for hesitation. Not from either one of you. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, you knew that it was wrong but if this was the only way for him to accept you …

“Daddy!”

Toji shushes you again, yet he doesn’t let up on the nipple cruelly pinched between his fingers. He gives it a rough tweak and then a twist, clearly delighting in the shudder that dances through your body in response. “Keep it down. You know how thin the walls are.”

You do know just how thin they are, so you force your fingers to uncurl from the sheets and bring your hand up to cover your mouth. Megumi could never find out about this. Not ever. You weren’t even particularly worried about yourself but, rather, you just didn’t want him to hate dad. And he certainly would. He was protective of you in a way Toji probably should have been but even that was not enough to satisfy your miserable need for a relationship with your actual father. It was pathetic.

“You’re even more sensitive than usual,” He muses, oblivious to your self deprecating thoughts as he slowly releases one aching bud in favor of reaching for the other. “Did you spend the last few weeks wet and neglected? Huh? Poor baby. You know you can touch yourself when I’m not around to do it for you.”

Writhing when he indelicately tugs at your nipple, you outright seethe. The heavy weight of his growing erection becomes even more apparent and it twitches eagerly against your upper thigh, encouraged by the needy grind of your hips. He nudges even closer in search of more direct friction which your wriggling ass all too readily provides and he groans in approval. That low, rumbling sound goes straight to your thrumming cunt and you instinctively squeeze your legs together as a strange sense of joy floods your chest like helium filling a birthday balloon. Sometimes it really did feel like you could just blissfully float away if he gave you enough praise, whether that be verbal or otherwise, and the validation of his cock was easily the most potent of them all. You were soaring.

“It’s not the same when I do it …” You mewl into your palm, aching at how true that statement rings.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. You’re just daddy’s needy little cock sleeve, aren’t you?” Toji’s warm breath puffs against your neck when he speaks. It tickles and you shake for him so enthusiastically that your spine pops with a faint crack. He laughs, very faintly, but it sounds more like a muttered curse in the dark. His hand shifts against your breast and possessively squeezes the firm, supple swell of flesh in a pinching grip so tight that his blocky fingers sink into the skin, and you keen. It hurt, yes. It was painful enough to make your eyes water and yet it also made your gushing cunt spasm, clenching so violently it almost punched the air right out of your lungs.

Dizzy with want and teetering on the edge of delirium, you snake your unoccupied hand underneath the covers, blindly fumbling for your pussy. The pressure was simply too much - you needed relief, even if it was only temporary - but he’s just as quick to abandon your tit in favor of crowding his hand between your legs right along with yours.

The broad expanse of his palm absolutely engulfs your knuckles, pushing down and manually guiding you into rubbing the apex of your slit until you tremble against him. It’s not quite enough to shove you over the edge, the unfocused stimulation only serving to make you even more wet and desperate, but the stark intimacy of being directed to massage your sticky cunt is undeniable. The absolute, unfaltering control he had over the body he’d helped bring into this world was staggeringly erotic in its own right and you couldn’t get enough. It felt a bit like being teased, though. Your orgasm hanging precariously over your head like the sword of Damocles, a looming threat in the back of your mind, but you were more than prepared to beg for the killing blow at this point. It’s not as if you really had any dignity left anymore.

“Daddy, please ... I want to cum, I wanna’ cum so bad! I need it!”

“Mmm. You think you’re ready for my cock, princess?”

You jerkily nod your head. “Uh-huh!”

Toji draws a slow, anticipatory breath. Lets it hang in the air for a long beat before actually speaking. “Alright. Can you keep quiet, or do I need to find something to gag you with? Be honest. You know I wont put up with any lying.”

You try to give that its due consideration but it's a struggle just to get your thoughts in order. All of your focus is on the worryingly damp spot between your thighs and the shameful way your flushed body practically sings under his attention. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time your father had ever gagged you but … you’d rather not have him shove a pair of your underwear so deep into your mouth that you retch around the balled up cotton if you could help it. “I can be quiet. Promise.”

He makes a sound like he doesn’t quite believe that but relents all the same. Both of you knew the punishment for failing to meet his expectations, especially after you swore to it, would far outweigh the offense itself, so there wasn’t any reason to linger on the topic. Your ass was on the line, not his.

Pushing up on the bed, he rises over you and tugs you onto your back. Your heartbeat doubles now that you can just barely make out his silhouette through the veil of darkness, the familiar figure of your father proving a great comfort despite the ugliness of what you two were doing together. Biting your lip, you twist to help him get your pajama pants off only to flush when he clucks his tongue at the lack of panties underneath.

“You were just hoping I’d come home and pay you a visit, weren’t you, slut?” He snarks, impatiently tossing your discarded bottoms to the end of the bed.

You whimper at the degrading name but a pleasant shudder works its way down your back when he goes up on his knees so he can unfasten his slacks. The zrrt of his zipper sounds impossibly loud in the dark and your pussy flutters with sick anticipation, surely drooling all over the sheets now. He’d trained you well. Taught you that the only source of true pleasure and validation you’d ever know would come from him and him alone. Not anybody else and certainly not from yourself. You were entirely reliant on him for everything. Your sense of worth, your self confidence, your mental and emotional wellness. Toji had all that and so much more right in the palm of his hand and, as always, he wasn’t particularly inclined to be nice about it.

“God, I can smell you from here. That hungry little pussy of yours is gonna’ shave ten years off my lifespan, you know that? So fucking needy.” The rustle of pants being shoved down bare legs makes your breath come quicker. He reaches for you then, big hands winding around your calves and yanking you further down the mattress so that your upturned ass is securely slotted between his knees.

A choking gurgle of excitement rises in the back of your throat, quickly stifled, as you clamp your hand more firmly over your mouth. Thoughts briefly drifting to Megumi again, you offer him a silent apology. He’d practically raised you in Toji’s stead but, no matter how much he may have tried, a brother's love could never adequately replace that of a fathers. It didn’t even come close and now you were laying on your back, getting ready to take the very cock that had given you life. It was abhorrent.

“Daddy …”

He doesn’t even pause though. “You really like it that much, baby? Can’t even make do with your fingers or settle for someone your own age? I didn’t realize I was raising such a shameless whore this whole time, but I can’t exactly say I’m complaining.” Leaving one of your legs to uselessly flex in the air, he reaches down to fist himself. You can hear the silky slither of moving skin when he pumps his dick a handful of times before settling closer and guiding the blunt head to your weeping entrance. Breath catching, you squeeze the lower half of your face so hard you can feel nails sinking in and threatening to break the skin. He merely swirls the bulbous glans through the sticky sheets of slick oozing out of you though, coating his cock in arousal and then dragging it up higher to nudge at your receptively engorged clit. “Tell me how bad you want me inside you, sweetheart. Let me hear it.”

“It’s all I want!” You automatically blurt even as you jolt and twitch at the teasingly light contact. It’s hard to tell if he can even make out what you’re saying with the flat of your hand muffling your voice, but he doesn’t ask you to repeat yourself so you just keep babbling; obedient and embarrassingly stupid for him. “I haven’t been able to think about anything else since you left, daddy. I need you to fill me up and … and fuck me hard, please. It feels like I’ll die if you don’t. I hate when you have to leave for a job. I’m so lonely without you and nothing I do makes the ache go away. My pussy hurts, daddy … please!”

Toji softly coos at you, but it's the farthest thing from sweet. He was mocking you. “Aww, does it really? Poor thing. You just need me to take care of you, huh?”

You nod, whimpering into your palm.

“Well,” He breathes out when he redirects the tip of his cock back down to your ripe little hole. “I don’t know how hard I can fuck you right now with your brother in the other room but …” Hefting your captured leg a bit higher, he uses his opposite hand to push himself into the velvety soft folds of your cunt one torturous fraction at a time. You go ramrod stiff underneath him, holding your breath until the ridged glans eases past the first tight ring of muscle and he momentarily stills above you. A stuttering sigh rolls off your lolling tongue as Toji reaches for your other ankle, leaving just the head wedged inside as he spreads you open for him. By the time he’s got you positioned how he wants, your thighs are splayed in such a wide V that it actually rides the line of real discomfort but you don’t even think to complain. How could you when he was giving you exactly what you wanted?

Still holding your feet aloft, your father eases his hips forward and applies just enough pressure to sink in deeper. The penetration is deliberately slow and it forces you to acknowledge each individual centimeter of rockhard, silky flesh that dips inside your body and you seethe, biting back an almost hysterical wail of pleasure. Your pussy never did seem to get used to that impressive girth no matter how often he used it and the stretch was still exquisite. It made your toes curl, eyes tweaking and rolling towards the back of your skull when you feel relief in every throbbing inch of your nervous system. This was exactly what you’d been pining for since he’d left.

“Shit. You’re never gonna’ stop feeling like a vice, are you, sweetheart?”

You can hear the grit of his teeth but he doesn’t stop. Continues to work himself into you one shallow thrust at a time when your squeezing cunt puts up too much resistance and he has to pause, pull back and then try again. The sear of penetration has you gasping wetly behind your hand and you finally allow a single, faltering groan to rattle up through your chest when he eventually settles against you some time later. It’s an incredibly tight fit. The pressure almost too much to bear for as transcendental as it is. Toji’s cock was far from small and, sometimes, you could hardly believe that it actually fit.

“Oooh … daddy …” Your clit throbs impotently, alive just as if it had its own heartbeat. You were so close. So horribly, wonderfully close you could practically taste it on the back of your tongue.

“Hush. I’ve got you, princess.” He murmurs, keeping your shaking legs up in the air with a deceptively gentle grip. “Just keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut and you’ll be off to sleep again before you know it.”

Grunting softly, he gradually withdraws half of the way before sliding straight down to the hilt again. Now that the path had been cleared once and your slopping juices were thoroughly coating every hard inch of him, the friction became easier. It wasn’t quite so hard to move inside your guts anymore, and his pace steadily builds until the soft, sticky click, click, click coming from between your legs morphs into a steady beat. You squirm at every jostling thrust, biting down on your tongue to keep your groaning pleasure to yourself, but every once in a while a small meep still escapes the confines of your trembling hand. Your father laughs at each one, the sound strained and tense and coming out of him in increasingly hearty puffs. All while he continues to fuck you with a mere third of his usual strength.

Even that much was enough to make you heave around him though and you toss your head on the pillows, silently reminding yourself to keep quiet. It only takes a short few moments for the pushing drive of his thrusts to send you over the edge, the coil snapping so abruptly you actually lurch underneath him. Your father reacts quickly though and, as soon as he feels your pussy start to shudder, one of his hands shoots out to grab you around the neck. Your eyes grow impossibly wide when he pushes up on your constricting throat, mercilessly cutting off your air supply in the process. All you can manage is a croaking, barely audible groan of intense pleasure, the sound rattling around inside your skull like a maraca as you dissolve into full bodied shudders underneath him. You’re acutely aware of how your cunt enthusiastically creams on his cock but he doesn’t slow down, the quick pace of his hips milking your orgasm to the point of discomfort, and you start to panic. It’s instinctive, the way you weakly thrash against him.

You desperately needed to breathe and your face was starting to grow numb the longer he kept his fist locked around your throat but Toji was as unyielding as iron. Your consciousness just starts to blur around the edges when he suddenly releases you, air flooding your windpipe as you immediately suck in a haggard gasp. That’s all the reprieve he allows you before his palm smacks against your wide open mouth and shoves you down into the mattress so hard the springs creak.

Hot tears track down your cheeks as he leans over you and pins you to the bed with the heavy weight of his body. His once evenly tempered thrusts turn brutal and he slams into your squelching cunt viscously enough to make pain shoot out from between your legs and into the rest of your abdomen. It hurts, it hurts so bad that you actually wail into the flat of his palm, but he doesn’t stop. For a painfully long stretch of time, he just pistons into you without a second thought to the matter, even when the bed frame begins faintly rattling under the two of you. He doesn’t seem to care, clearly, and that thought terrifies you more than anything. Megumi couldn’t find out. He couldn’t.

“Yeah. Right there.” He snarls, barely getting the words out through his gnashing teeth. “Take it, baby. Take it! That’s right. You take daddy’s cock so fucking well, you know that?”

You squeeze your eyes shut against the aggressive way he spits in your face, praying that he reaches his limit before your brother stirs at the noise. While not exactly loud, Toji was certainly making enough of a scene to draw unwanted attention and you didn’t want to think about what would happen if Megumi came to investigate. It didn’t even make sense. Your father was the one who’d reminded you of how thin the walls were so why was he recklessly throwing caution aside like this?

A few minutes pass in which all you can do is lay there and take it, helplessly ragdolling with his hand still covering your mouth to keep you quiet, and you’re sure the jig has to be up. There’s no way your brother is still asleep in his room. Toji was a man possessed, flexing against you like a rutting hellbeast that couldn't be bothered with silly notions of decency. But then, as if hearing your silent pleas, his body starts to tense up and his shoulders quake. You latch onto that brief glimmer of hope, reeling at the pain as his hips slap against your ass with one last surge of monstrous energy. Once, twice, three times - and on the fourth brain rattling jolt, he stills.

His breath is ragged and quick against your face. You can feel the oppressive heat of his excitement bleeding into you, threatening to burn you up, but he doesn’t attempt to move off your shell-shocked body just yet. Rather, your father waits until his balls have finished draining into your throbbing cunt, thoroughly painting your pink innards in thick, creamy white, before he slowly removes his hand from your mouth. You gasp thickly into the darkness, practically choking on it.

And, true to nature, he quietly shushes you again. “Shh. It’s alright. I’ve got you, baby girl. Just breathe for me, okay?”

You nod, fighting back the hurt little hiccups that try to work their way up your bruised throat. It takes a prolonged moment to start coming down and, as always, he just keeps softly petting your hair until the tension finally gives way to exhaustion. Only when you’re a limp sack of flesh underneath him does Toji shift to get off you, but not before shoving a perversely affectionate kiss to your damp forehead.

“That’s my girl. I’ll see you in the morning, sweetheart. Sleep well.” And he’s gone, just like that and as quietly as he'd entered. It was almost like he'd never even been there in the first place.

You shudder in the absence of his body heat, refusing to move from the spot where he left you. The splintering pain is almost too much to bear but you breathe through it, one second at a time, until it becomes a bit more manageable. Even then, you can’t quite wrap your head around his total disregard for discretion. Your father was not a nice man, and that was likely all there was to it. He could be downright mean when the mood so struck him and that had never been more apparent than tonight, but it still didn’t change the fact you were his daughter. He cared about you, surely, even if it was ass backwards and twisted well past the point of what would be considered normal. You were lucky to have him, even if you did have to put out just for a fleeting moment of his attention. At least you could lay claim to that much. Beggars shouldn’t be choosers, after all.

“Good night, daddy." You whisper into the still darkness. "I love you.”

[pinkysfaultorbrainsfault]

pinky and the brain: s1e7 - tv or not tv

y’all do NOT understand how many times i have tried to post this. tumblr just will not stop eating it. this was supposed to be out last wednesday LMAO i am doing my best.

episode summary: brain engineers a pair of Mouse Dentures that give him a charming smile. anyone hypnotised by these dentures Suddenly Adores Him For No Good Reason. unfortunately, he’s also a bit of a shut in, so nobody is actually going to see his charming smile-- unless he gets himself a sitcom.

....or something.

the rundown:

we open on brain talking about the “weird and magical power” of celebrity. he has defaced several women, and is sticking his ass out. as you do. what is he doing to CINDY! and her ilk?? he must be stopped.

“those who have it weild tremendous influence. few can avoid the enchantment of its’ spell.”

“do you know what gives them this power?”

holy shit. he just stabbed CINDY!.

pinky absolutely does not care for CINDY!’s fate. “haha. narf. hey, paddlefoot, do you know what they call a quarter pounder in france?”

of course, sirius black was not in pulp fiction, and neither, as far as i can tell, was he in france. brain silences him with “enough gay banter”, like he wasn’t just sticking his ass out in his general direction, like, two minutes ago.

(this was the 90s, y’all. gay definitely meant gay back then. this is not the faraway tree.)

“pinky! behold the key to the power of attraction!”

“pushpins!”

“hurraaaaaaaaaaaah!”

“no, pinky.”

apparently the key to attraction is a

“winning smile”, as brain points out, tapping on CINDY!’s poor mutilated face for emphasis.

“and a nice healthy gum!”

“and... a nice healthy gum.”

it turns out that brain has “taken this idea of the influential smile to a new level - a level no less than world domination“, which is bold words for Mr Tumble Dryer. to achieve this, he has invented

teeth.

(okay. so it’s a bit bigger than that. he shows pinky the plans for,

and then a prototype of, a whole machine built specifically to engineer him little mousie dentures. a lot of work went into this one. shame, really.

“when did you have time to build that?”

“while you were engrossed in your mr belvedere reruns.”

“oh, i miss him. ):” )

anyway so. brain puts his teeth in.

there he is.

pinky describes this as

“enchanting (’:”

and brain affirms that it’s supposed to be. apparently the “reflective vibrations” (okay) of his smile stimulates the medula oblongata,

“causing the viewer to adore me for no good reason!”

“zort! i’m adoring you for no good reason!”

(he does point out, while brain is admiring his reflection in a nearby bunsen burner, “what if they’re wearing sunglasses?”

brain’s response is “we’ll work nights.”)

still, brain can’t just sit around in the lab twiddling his thumbs and expect the general public to Adore Him For No Reason. he needs exposure! and as pinky ponders “what would mr belvedere do,” brain asserts that he would “eat some butter”.

“i’m afraid, my friend, that you’ve seen far too much of mr belvede--”

more like mr belvIDEA lol. sorry i’ll see myself out.

“pinky, are you pondering what i’m pondering?”

“i think so, brain, bur it’s a miracle that this one grew back. ):”

.....okay.

thankfully, the plan is not, in fact, to amputate pinky’s leg. again???? instead, brain intends to use a weapon of “great stealth, power, and corruption.”

OUR OWN SITCOM.

✨

meanwhile, at the wb studio, we meet jerry kilmer. mr kilmer is currently being harassed by some dudes who also really, really want their own sitcom. for far less nefarious purposes, presumably.

“so there’s this guy, right?”

“and get this! he designs--”

“BIKINIS.”

“TINY LITTLE BIKINIS. OKAY okay okay okay so here’s the hook.”

“HE’S PRETENDING--”

“TO BE BLIND.”

it does not appear to be what mr kilmer is looking for.

(meanwhile, the mice are spying on the acme labs janitor. he seems like a cool dude! but the mice are not here for friendship.

they sneak into his jacket pocket!

and...... steal his.... car keys? “YES. to the television station!”

✨

this isn’t even the first vehicle he’s stolen. hopefully he’ll have this one back by curfew as well.)

they do get pulled over by the police, but i don’t want to go into that. unless you guys reaaaallly want me to. instead, they park outside the studio and harass some poor receptionist.

“excuse me. we’re here to-- pitch. as they say. a sitcóm. my dear.”

i don’t know why brain says words like that.

“appointment?”

“oh, i’m sure you can--”

“work us in.” says brain. he is sticking his ass out for no reason. all the appeal is in his sparkly dentures, so.... there’s really no need for that, my dude.

✨

“you’re next! for no good reason!”

these dudes are still here. “wait!” yells our budding comedian, “wait! check out this idea. it’s about a guy!”

original.

“who always sticks his foot in his mouth!!”

clever. unfortunately, his demonstration goes wrong, and he ends up kicking mr kilmer in the face.

bonk.

gives him a nasty black eye to boot. ouch.

“ugh. can’t i ever just see someone normal?”

good thing these very normal individuals have just shown up, huh? nothing shady about these guys. “ugh, thank goodness,” says mr kilmer. they introduce themselves politely as jonathan michael charles (left) and jamal spelling (right).

“you guys have quite a look.”

“thank you.”

✨

“alright then. what do you got for me?”

“egad, brain.”

“he’s not adoring you for no good reason!!”

“drat.”

“well. we’re young hip adults--”

“and hijinks ensue!”

“who sit on a big fat couch and whine--”

“with disaaaasterous results!!”

“and have lots of generation x friends who trade zippy, sarcastic banter.”

“and i have a monkey.”

a very original concept.

at least, mr kilmer sems to think so. “hmmm. fresh. but tell me! what really brings you here. what are jamal and jonathan all about.”

“actually,  we are two lab mice involved in a broad and sweeping plan to take over the world.”

mr kilmer thinks this is hilarious, apparently.

these guys do not. but they’re not important, for the moment.

the long and short of it, anyway, is that kilmer can’t give them a sitcom because nobody knows who they are, quote unquote. “the day i see your face on the cover of peeple magazine is the day you get a sitcom.”

irritated, jamal and jonathan make their exit.

and mr kilmer laughs so hard at the idea of lab mice trying to take over the world, that he falls out of his chair.

this will become relevant later.

meanwhile -- i just had to screencap this, okay, because of brain’s face. pinky suggests that he get on the cover of peeple by marrying prince charles. and brain thinks this is a horrible idea.

he’s much more interested in princess diana. but no, pinky, the path he must follow is “the same one followed by the leading sitcom stars of the day.”

“i must become a SUCCESSFUL STANDUP COMEDIAN.”

“so hey, how about those mitochondria? do they have enough cilia or what?”

“hey, why don’t you tell a joke you know!”

this may be harder than brain thought. undeterred, though, he presses on.

“do you ever notice how when you’re looking in the mirror of a quadrant electrometre, your forehead seems large?? why is that??”

“i just flew in from cleveland! and boy are my upper extremeties fatigued by a buildup of lactic acid!”

“booooooooooooooo!” says our guy on the left.

“go back to your troll village, squirt!” says his friend on the right. “what do you say to that?”

“i find you repugnant.”

(well. that made them laugh, at least.)

“your stupidity is matched only by the ill-slipped caterpillar, that chews off its’ own wings after emerging from its’ cucoon!!!”

“in fact! all of you! are just a gaggle of pathetically misguided root diggers!!”

“why don’t you all stand under a stalactite and bellow the resonate frequency, causing it to plummet onto your cranium!!”

“you’re all repugnant i say!!! repugnant!!!”

and with that little mousie tantrum out of his system, brain trundles off to sulk.

pinky claps him on the way out.

“egad brain! narf! they love you!”

“yes.”

so then he goes on tv, i guess.

“our comedy challenger is the master of insults! the prince of putdowns! jamal spelling!”

“you’re all a bunch of crevulating nitwits with peat moss for a cortex. repugnant!”

i don’t envy that guy third from the right. he doesn’t look like he’s having a very good time. he’s sensitive about his peat moss cranium, okay? don’t make fun of him.

NEXT ON G, HOWIE TURN HOSTS COMEDIAN JAMAL SPELLING.

“so, uh, jamal spelling. what kind of stupid name is that? cmon? what’s your real name?”

this would be racist if jamal spelling was a human man comedian and not like, a lab mouse. thankfully, this is not the case.

“my real name is the brain.” says brain, helpfully enunciating the “the”. “and you, my unwashed friend, are repugnant.”

HA HA. HA HA HA HA HA.

“oh, you’re hot, baby.”

okay.

but we’re, uh. we’re not going to think about that, and we’re going to go look at the david letterman show instead.

“uh, my next guest-- paul, do you know who our next guest is?”

“daaaaave, i know he’s a beautiful kind of-- nutty cat who just got us all a-wow.”

“here he is, ladies and gentlemen! for your comedy dollar, jamal spelling!!”

jamal spelling appears to be naked.

but he’s funny, so nobody minds.

“somebody here smells like a coagulated agar slant growing in a petri dish. repugnant!”

see! he’s just too comedy for clothes.

(meanwhile, we take a short trip to the office of janet mekko. “welcome, mr kilmer,” she says.

“my... secretary sent me here-- actually, i feel kind of stupid.”

“oh, honey. that’s a good thing! if there weren’t any stupid people, i wouldn’t have any business.”

“now. ya got some paaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiin.”

(in the distance, dan reynolds - at the tender age of eight - mumbles “you made me a, you made me a believer” in his sleep.)

“yeah.” says mr kilmer, completely unaware of this. “i fell out of my chair.”

“i’m gonna hypnotise you, so relax.”

okay.

“this’ll make you sleepy.”

“what is it?”

“a kenny g album.”

“okay. you’re in a trance. i’m gonna give you a random word. if you feel pain, say that word, you’ll feel good.”

“but careful! cause if you say it when you’re feeling good, the pain will come back! bad.”

spooky.

“and your random word is--”

“repugnant.”

there is, of course, absolutely no way this can go wrong.)

let us turn our view to happier pastures. namely, the mice are watching tv.

TONIGHT ON CIRCUS OF THE STARS

HARRY DEAN ANDERSON GETS SHOT OUT OF A GIANT PASTA MAKER

COMEDIAN JAMAL SPELLING FLIES THE TRAPEZE

AND BOB SAGET GETS TRAMPLED BY A BEAR. we hope.

pinky is elated! “egad, brain! circus of the stars! narf! you’ve really made it!”

pinky wants to be on circus of the stars, don’t you know. unfortunately, as he dutifully informs brain in pretty much the same breath, he hasn’t quite made it into peeple magazine yet.

“hm. it’s time to use plan b, pinky.”

“there was an a?? poit.”

ouch. jesus, pinky.

undeterred, brain marches his merry little ass over to the old timey corded phone.

beep.

“yes, connect me with buckinham palace, please.”

“egad! you did it brain! the cover of peeple!”

rule britannia is playing in the background of this scene. let’s... not think too hard about how this works, and agree that, yes, pauly shore, enough.

no more pauly shore, please.

conclusion:

jerry keeps his word, and, upon learning that jamal spelling is now legally married to princess diana (a fact which would certainly not lead to a warrant for his arrest in a couple of years) he asks him for a demo tape.

for such small hands, jamal sure does have very neat handwriting.

“make me laugh, jamal, and you got yourself a sitcom.”

“why don’t you all stand under a stalactite and bellow the resonate frequency, causing it to plummet onto your cranium!!”

he seems to like it! kilmer makes a little hee hee noise, unprepared for where this is undoubtedly going.

“you’re repungnant!”

“AAUGHGHGHHH.”

there it is.

“repugnant!”

“i say repugnant!”

repugnant repugnant repugnant repugnant

repugnant!

and with that, jerry kilmer falls out of the window.

as he does, he yells “i’ll get you, jamal spelling” which personally i think is unfair. jamal couldn’t have known, surely? don’t be mean to jamal. he’s got a lot on his mind, what with that restraining order against howie turn.

meanwhile, in the lab, the mice debate a good pitch for a pilot (i’ve got it, brain! it’s a show about nothing!) when jamal spelling gets a call.

“hi jamal! this is nina from the tv station. could you come down for a meeting?”

“mm hmmm.”

✨

it’s the WB.

as nina types away, jamal and jonathan enter casually, like this is their house, or something. “are you pleased to see us?” asks jamal, in a cocky, egomaniac labmouse sort of way.”

“yes i am!”

(nina somehow doesn’t notice.)

anyway then these guys find the dentures and pitch the first idea that comes into their heads.

“hey cortex! what do you wanna do tonight?”

don’t ask why mouse dentures fit a human man. we suspend our disbelief here.

(also there was no way this was brain’s fault. he couldn’t have known. outside influence it is. a shame, really.)

brain: 7 pinky: 7 outside influence: 14

thanks for the fun meme, @shuunthenonbeliever​ !

[excindrela]

12 Days of Demon Ayno- Day 7

Supernatural AU

Pairing: demon! Ayno (Noh YoonHo) VAV / Female reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: foul language

Word Count: 2228

AU: Look we made it to day 7! (Only 10 days after Christmas) Today is fluffy, but there’s smut ahead in the forecast! To everyone reading this series- I’m so glad you’re here- thank you for reading ( especially to those who have re-blogged!). I love feedback- so if there’s something you like, or something you want to see- tell me!! Interesting fact: Tenley, Katricia & Cassidy are people I actually know! I love giving irl people cameos! LOL

Demon Ayno: Summoned | Thanksgiving | 12 Days: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9

On the 7th Day of Christmas: Ayno Experienced the True Spirit of the Season 

You strolled out of the bedroom still brushing your hair to find Ayno in the kitchen making your breakfast as usual. He poured and doctored your coffee and turned around to hand it to you but stopped with eyes wide at your appearance. He slowly handed you the coffee cup, while looking you up and down. You knew he wanted to say something but was clearly having trouble deciding on exactly what to say. He opened his mouth, and then stopped and closed it- rethinking whatever it was that had come to mind. You waited. Finally, he seemed to have settled on a way to broach what he had decided was going to be a delicate subject.

“You know that I find you beautiful, right? Have I told you today that you are beautiful?”

You struggled to hide your amusement. “Not today, but you have often told me this, yes. I believe based on your record of that particular compliment you find me most attractive when I am flushed and sweaty and looking totally fucked-out laying underneath you.”

He grinned. “True!” Then he muttered under his breath “I am not sure even that would help right now.”

You struggled to keep your face neutral.  “Is there something wrong with the way I look today?”  you asked innocently.

“Um...I know you said we are going somewhere today…would you not be more comfortable in the soft sweater with the big neck? It is a good color on you and looks nice with your jeans….”

“Oh…do you not like this one?” you asked strolling over to the floor mirror and admiring yourself.

Ayno, rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, struggling to find something nice to say. “Well…it will be easy to keep track of you…”

Privately you thought he had done very well in finding anything good to say about the knit catastrophe that adorned the upper half of your body. It was made of cheap chunky cream yarn, the whole front covered with a Christmas present made from 4 different red calico prints appliqued on the front, and a giant gold glitter ribbon bow that sat at the shoulder. There were green holly leaves embroidered around the cuffs and on the center back just below the collar.

“Agreed!” you said, “but not as easy as it will be to keep track of you!” you giggled as you ran to the bedroom closet and returned with a larger sweater that made yours look positively tame. Ayno looked with utter horror at the nightmare conceived in polyester yarn you held in your hands. The bottom was knit to look like a rooftop, and the top 2/3 was supposed to be the night sky in royal blue with little silver metallic yarn stars sprinkled on it. The center of the front was dominated by an appliqued reindeer complete with a googly eye, sparkly red pom-pom nose and a harness with actual jingle bells.

“Oh. Yes. You will not lose me.” he said in a small voice.

“Yep! No chance of that! Check this out!” you said as you pushed the hidden button and the tiny lights on all the stars began blinking.

Temporarily robbed of speech by the twinkling atrocity he was expected to put on his body, poor Ayno just stood there, mouth hanging slightly open.

“That…that is very…special.” he finally choked out. Then, hoping for an out, he tried a different tack. “But I thought we agreed that it would be best not to call attention to me. Perhaps the lights…or the whole sweater…are too much? We do not want people to notice me.” he finished hopefully.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The sad pathetic look on his face was too much, and you burst out laughing. “It’s awful right?! I can’t believe I was lucky enough to find something this bad in your size!!”

“Lucky? Uh-huh.” he said, looking very confused.

You needed to explain. “Ayno, today we’re volunteering with Project Reach Out. We’ll spend the morning sorting the food and present donations, wrapping presents for the kids, and preparing a meal. Then in the evening, we’re hosting a Christmas party, and families will come to eat and play games and then the children will pick a present, and we’ll send the families home with a box of food so they will be able to prepare a nice Christmas dinner. All the volunteers are wearing ugly Christmas sweaters today.”

“Oh! So we are supposed to look embarrassing? I will blend in wearing this?”

“Yep! And everyone will know you’re a volunteer.”

“So I am not being punished. Ok. I will trust your judgement” he said as he took the Rudolph sweater from you, “but I still think this should be condemned to the fires of hell.”

*          *          *

You arrived at the community center and went straight to the check in table. You waved happily to Tenley, Katricia and Cassidy who were already there.

“Whoa! That’s quite the bow there!” Tenley laughed.

You laughed “Its huge, right? Nice tree you’ve got.” You said, admiring her red sweater with a green Christmas tree knit into the front that was decorated with pom-poms, fake lights on thread, and plastic charms.

“Yeah, this tree’s gay green dress isn’t going to delight anyone. But check out Trish’s ghetto snowman.” Tenley said jerking her thumb in Katricia’s direction.

Katricia walked forward proudly gesturing at the snowman sweater that had seen better days. One button eye was thisclose to falling off, too many washings had caused the carrot nose to droop like a flaccid penis, one button on the mid-section was unironically totally different than the other two, and someone had attempted to fix one of the cross-stitched twig hands- but had used the wrong color of brown thread. “Yeah, I don’t know what kinda shit Frosty has seen, but I’m pretty sure he’s a crack hoe straight out the hood.” Katricia laughed.

You all laughed with her, shaking your head at the unfortunate sweater, when Cassidy caught sight of Ayno. “Oh damn. Girl, is that your boyfriend? What did you do to this poor man?!” she cried looking in awe at the awful sweater.

“Isn’t it hideous?!” you cried with glee.

“Yes. That is just terrible.” Katricia said hi-fiving you. “Where did you find that?”

“The Assistance League thrift store in The Heights!”

Poor Ayno stood there looking concerned: he couldn’t decide if he was being complimented or made fun of. You felt his fingers fumble for yours and you took his hand and squeezed it for reassurance. “Yes, the extremely good sport stuffed in the sweater from hell is my boyfriend, Ayno. Ayno, this is Tenley, Katricia and Cassidy.” The girls all smiled and shook hands with him, Cassidy mouthing “He’s so cute!” and Tenley fanning her face and mouthing “HOT!” when he was distracted by someone else.  

You had no sooner finished introductions when Jayden, who had gotten roped into coordinating the event this year, breezed over with nametags and clipboard in hand. “Ok ladies…and gentleman, what are we doing today?” she said as she handed out the name tags. “Ayno- we’ll start with you. Do you have a preference on what you’d like to do today?”

Ayno looked at you wide eyed and shrugged. “Ayno loves to cook Jay. He’s good in the kitchen- why don’t we put him there?” you suggested.

“Perfect! Ayno, I’m sending you and Trish to help sort canned goods for the take-home boxes, and then to the kitchen for dinner prep! You already know what you’re doing, right?” she said to you.

“I believe I’m sorting toys and wrapping presents?” you said.

“Yes ma’am!” Jayden said as she moved on with Ten and Cass in tow.

“You will not be with me?” Ayno asked nervously.

“No. But you’ll be fine, and you’ll be much happier in the kitchen.”

“But what if people talk to me? What do I say?”

“Well I’d advise not mentioning you’re a demon.” You said dryly. Ayno gave you a look. “You know what to say. My best advice is to deflect: you want to learn about humans- well lesson number one is that people love to talk about themselves. Just ask them questions.”

Ayno nodded, still looking a little unsure. “Ok.”

“Don’t worry- Katricia will be with you, and she is so much fun. I’m sure she’ll take good care of you”, you promised him.

“Mmmm-hmmm. Yes ma’am, Imma take gooood care of this fine man!” Katricia said looking Ayno up & down and winking at you. “C’mon Ayno, we are gonna go get biz-zee in the kitchen!” she said taking him by the arm and dragging him off.

And that was the last contact you had with Ayno for the next eight hours.  You saw him singing Christmas carols while happily sorting canned goods and carrying loaded dinner boxes to the area where fresh produce, dairy & a turkey would be added at pick up. Later you passed by the kitchen and saw him peeling a giant pile of potatoes listening intently to whatever the others doing prep were talking about. You almost dropped the cranberry sauce you were bringing around during the dinner when he snuck up behind you and kissed your cheek as he went on his way refilling coffee.  As you cleared dinner dishes, you saw him lifting little ones up to choose an ornament off the tree, and then later being taught how to play “Go Fish” by some elementary age kids.

It was while you were drying baking pans and putting them away in the kitchen that he came up to you waving an envelope.

“Look I won a prize? I do not know what it is...”, he said curiously looking at two pieces of paper inside.

You looked in the envelope, “Oh those are movie tickets! So you can go to the cinema to see a movie... and there is a coupon for popcorn and snacks too! What did you win a prize for?”

“Apparently others think my sweater is very, very bad too. It was bad enough to win the number 3 envelope. I did not think it was possible to wear a sweater that was worse than mine but apparently two people did. I think the number 1 envelope was given to the man who had the Demon of Sahjoolh coming out of a box on the front of his sweater... I am told it is actually a ‘jack in the box’ with a ‘clown’ -whatever that is- but it looks like the Demon of Sahjoolh. It was very frightening, and I could not figure out why anyone would want to make a sweater with the Demon of Sahjoolh on it, so I suppose he deserved to win just for being brave enough to wear it.”

You laughed, “Well, I have never seen the Demon of Sahjoolh, but that does sound frightening. Congratulations!”

His face suddenly brightened as a thought occurred to him. “I have two tickets! You could go with me to the cinema- I could take you on a date! Will you go to see a movie with me?”

You smiled, “Yes, Ayno, I would love to go to the movies with you…but right now, I want to go home, because my feet hurt.”

*          *          *

Later that night you sat in your usual position stretched out across the couch from Ayno. He was rubbing your sore feet while you watched whatever the insipid Hallmark movie of the day was. You were looking at him and you could see the wheels in his head turning.

“Our life is charmed, isn’t it?”, he said suddenly.

“What do you mean?”, you asked.

“Our home is nice- it is warm and safe…we always have hot water, and there is always food here- you do not ever seem concerned about getting food…your car is big and shiny and seems to work well... and when I want something you get it for me... you give me money every week and let me buy iced coffees without worry. The people today… it is not the same for them is it?”

You shook your head sadly, “No, it’s not. That’s why we do what we did today. To help them. To try to make things better. We helped lift some of their burdens for today: they knew they were going to have a hot dinner for themselves and their families, they knew their children were going to get a Christmas present and they knew that they were going to get food to prepare a nice dinner on Christmas. These are small things to you and me but very big ones to them. We don’t have these worries, so yes- we are privileged. We are lucky.”

He looked thoughtful. “We should do this again. Is this like Thanksgiving where it only happens once in a year? Do we have to wait for next Christmas?”

“Well, Christmas only happens once a year; but there are lots of opportunities to volunteer all year long.”

“Good. More of this then. I like small humans. We should do things for them.” He said as he crawled across the couch to lay his head on your chest.

“Good plan.” You said, wrapping your arms around him and silently marveling at the humanity of your demon.

[s-ultry]

please me - a tom holland fanfic

CHAPTER ONE

A/N: so i decided that i’d move my fanfic from wattpad to tumblr! just to give me a bit of a boost to continue it, i hope you guys enjoy!

chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six

SUMMARY: when the billionaire meets the microbiologist.

sugardaddy!tom

enjoy me writing nonsense lol

cast:

tom holland as himself

ariana grande as belle lorems

scarlett byrne as luna lorems

james phelps as klaus lorems

whoever you want as demitri and madeleine lorems

-

There she sat, the only place where she truly felt at home. Although she was at her local university, the library still amazed her no matter what she read. As she indulged into the book of Geographical Mysteries she wondered, she wondered whether one day she could be a person to benefit this world or the ecosystem. Her name, as beautiful as her, Belle.

Belle Lorems, a 19-year-old girl who loved her studies and is a very ambitious female of her generation. Belle's childhood consisted of a drunk father who would abuse her mother who was more than innocent, but her mother didn't treat her that well either. All of the attention would go to her elder siblings, her brother Klaus and her sister Luna. Klaus and Belle had a 5 year age gap while Belle and her sister had 2. Let's just say that Belle wasn't the center of attention, but she was the brightest and the most intelligent of them all.

Belle currently studies at the University of New York, where she aspires to become a microbiologist. Sadly, her mother was hoping for her to become a model just like her sister, or an athlete like her brother. Her father was now completely sober but still frustrated whenever Belle was around. It was as though she was the black sheep of the family.

Whenever she used to get the top grade in her whole class, her parents say its good. She's not allowed to spend any money as they are already fed up with her wanting new clothes, mind her, she only had minimal. She was forbidden to drive a car and is obliged to take the bus back home. Which she didn't mind of course, as it was a journey for her.

Speaking of home, Belle returned her book to where it belonged and headed out to go back home. During her 10 minute walk, she encountered a cute little café where she decided to get a cooling beverage. She walked up ordering an iced coffee with an extra shot of espresso in which she savored once she held the drink in her hand.

Belle was indeed owning up to her name, she was a curvy average sized girl who had luxurious long brown hair and a pleasing facial structure. That's what people told her, but she never approved of it.

Unlocking the door to her home announcing her arrival she wasn't surprised when she heard no ones reply. The brunette made her way to the kitchen where she saw her mom baking some sort of cake that smelled delicious.

"What you baking there, Mom?" Belle questioned her mother as she placed her books on the kitchen counter.

"Red velvet cake with a sprinkle of cinnamon. Would you like to try some?" Her mother, Madelaine replied handing a piece of cake to her daughter. Belle was in bewilderment as to how nice her mother was acting.

She moaned in pleasure as the cake melted in her mouth, she glanced at her mother giving her a thumbs up. "Now, I need you to change immediately because a guest is arriving soon. They will have dinner with the whole family since he's your father's boss. Don't act weird, don't talk weird, just don't be yourself. Understand." Belle's mother scolded her as her daughter obeyed her commands grabbing her books and running upstairs.

Belle quickly jumped into the shower, lathering her hair in soap as well as her body. Minutes after her quick but relaxing shower she began her makeup routine, applying winged liner that wasn't as bold as her sisters and pairing it with a bold red lip. She then grabbed her hair dryer contemplating whether to straighten her hair or to curl it, in the end, she confirmed that she would curl her ends leaving a more natural look.

"Jamming out to music isn't what we want our guest to hear, huh?" Her sister Luna walked in wearing her silver silk robe. Belle lightly smiled as she lowered her music down, hoping for the awkward silence to disappear.

"So listen, apparently the guest that dad's bringing over is his boss, right?" The dirty blonde asked her sister in which she nodded. "So, I did a bit of research and figured out that the guest he's bringing is billionaire playboy Mr. Tom Holland!" Her sister squealed whilst her sister stared at her in confusion.

"Come on Bellatrix! You don't even know who The Tom Holland is?"

"Nope never heard of him, to busy studying!" Belle chuckled as she walked into her closet, her sister followed with her phone glued to her face searching the playboy on the internet.

"Him!" Luna pointed at her phone slightly shaking, Belle grabbed her phone and scrolled through the pictures that loaded. He looked demanding, controlling, dominant. She saw him walking out of luxurious stores with girls screaming for him.

"Well, have him all you want!" Belle chose a baggy loose dress to where in which her sister snatched away from her grasp. "You're not wearing that in front of him, I'll give you a dress," her sister ran into her room and came back with a tight-fitting, off shoulder black dress. The Lorems weren't stupid rich, but they did have enough to buy expensive items.

"No, Luna I'm not wearing that!" Belle argued in her baby pink robe as she rummaged her closet to find a dress, but since she didn't have anything she grabbed the dress from her sister's hand and slammed the bathroom door. The brunette then stared in the mirror, looking around her whole body insecurely. She would never wear anything like what she was wearing right now, she paired it with her necklace that she wore every day, it was a snakehead with jewels. Belle decided that today was the day for her kitten heels that she got from a relative a while back.

She left the bathroom to wear the pair of black shoes when she heard commotion downstairs, she cursed to herself as she heard them walk into the dining room. Belle looked at herself one more time reciting her pep talk to herself whilst walking downstairs.

"Breathe, Belle, breathe," she calmed herself down while knocking on the dining room's door.

"Finally, she decided to arrive!" Her mother exclaimed opening the grand door revealing the room of her family and a mysterious man. He stood up expecting a welcome, but as shy as she became she sat opposite of him.

"Bellatrix, darling. Would you get the dinner for us?" Her father demanded her, not expecting no for an answer in which she promptly stood up walking to the kitchen. "I'd love to help her Demitri," she heard their guest say trying to stand up.

"Nonsense! She'll get it herself," her father smiled drinking his glass of wine.

Belle then returned with two dishes juggling in her hands, but as one was about to fall Mr. Holland had caught it looking up into her brown globes, her breath hitched as she glanced at his dark, controlling ones.

"Belle take the dish from Mr. Holland! Now!" Her mother scolded her daughter leading Belle to gently place one dish on the table and taking the other from the billionaire's hand. The five-foot teenager quickly ran to her seat looking down in shame. She never liked how her parents controlled her, but she couldn't talk back as its disrespectful towards them.

Throughout dinner she kept quiet, making sure not to embarrass her family. But, she did want to enjoy the dinner with her food. "So, Klaus. What's your job?" The sharp man looked over to her brother. "Oh, I play for this football team as the attacker!" Klaus briefly explained to his guest.

"What about you, Luna?" Mr. Holland also asked the second oldest of the Lorems.

"Well, I study at a beauty college because I want to be a model!" Luna described to the man trying to act seductive as possible in order to get his number. Her mother stared both children with pride and excitement, but once it was Belle's turn she rolled her eyes.

"Lastly, what do you study Bellatrix?" He asked with a smirk plastered along his lips once he saw her blush intensifying as he kept staring at her.

"It's Belle," she whispered as her shyness was taking over.

"What?" Mr. Holland stared straight into her eyes knowing he was playing games with her, but Belle sat there trying to maintain her composure.

"Um, uh, it's Belle. And, um uh oh yeah, wait," The brunette started stuttering forgetting everything as her mind started going blank.

"It's okay darling, you don't need to be shy in front of me," his deep British accent seeped through as he was drinking his wine, never breaking eye contact.

Belle coughed, she felt weird feelings after he had said that. "I am a sophomore studying to be a microbiologist," she announced speaking loud and clear.  She then continued munching on her vegetables.

"That's quite hard. Do you enjoy it?"

"Yes, I find the topic very fascinating and requires more concentration and intelligence. In which I think I have," Belle replied looking down at her hands that were hidden under the table.

"I would've expected Bellatrix to end up as a librarian in one of those adult films," her brother laughed while the others chuckled at her except Mr. Holland. He glanced at her to see tears forming in her eyes, he felt angry. He felt hurt, mad, and wanted to punch every single one of them for hurting such a precious rose like that.

"May I be excused?" Belle asked her mother in which she obliged, the brunette ushered towards the bathroom locking herself in and looking at herself. Belle saw tears forming in her eyes, but she didn't want them to spill as she spilled enough. She glanced in the mirror and she saw someone pathetic, someone who didn't deserve anything like this hurt and abuse. Belle only hoped for a miracle.

The teenager then heard footsteps coming to the door, she held her breathe hoping it wasn't one of her family members. Then, her thoughts of panic were interrupted by a few knocks on the door.

"Belle, may I enter?" She heard the Britt question her from the other side of the door. Belle fixed herself up, but her puffy eyes were evident. She then unlocked the door to find a concerned young man looking all over her face, almost checking if she didn't hurt herself.

"Sorry I took so long Mr. Holland, forgive me," the youngest Lorems looked down fiddling with her fingers. The cunning businessman then took her hands into his own, making her gaze up at his own brown globes.

He gently pushed her back inside the bathroom locking it behind him. Mr. Holland then glanced down at her, he delicately grabbed her waist lifting her up on the countertop of the marvellous bathroom. Stood in between her legs his fingers rubbed her hands as she was trying her hardest not to let the tears fall, not again.

"Tell me everything, love," he begged her, knowing a man like him would never beg for anything.

"This has been happening since I was around 5 years old, my parents and my siblings basically bullying me for every step, every breath, every action I am being targeted. I can't defend myself because I hate the thought of talking back to someone older than me, it's disrespectful and rude. Especially when they talk about my career choice, my parents wanted me to be famous and have flashing cameras everywhere," Belle vented not daring to examine the man's facial expression.

"I-I tried to hide in my university, but I have to come home to cook and clean for them. I just have to live with it," she huffed fiddling with her fingers.

He then cupped her cheek, making her look at him. Belle's eyes closed gently as the heat of his hand introduced itself to her tear-stained cheek, leaning into it.

"You've been a very good girl, obeying everyone's command. I like that, and Belle you're the Cinderella in your own fairy tale. Hopefully, you will meet your prince soon," he sincerely smiled at the girl in front of him. Belle then pulled him into a hug, holding him tight hoping he'd never leave and inhaling his strong cologne that relaxed her immediately.

They both let go of the hug and Belle jumped down from the countertop, she turned around and gazed at the mirror, not noticing Mr. Holland's hands around her waist as he hugged her from behind.

"Look at yourself, Belle. You're stunning, beautiful, intelligent, and perfect. What more would a man want, what more would anyone want? Forget what they said, now it's time to focus on you now." He scanned her in the mirror, from head to toe she was flawless in his eyes.

In his eyes, she was indeed perfect, exactly who he imagined he would be with. Shy, intelligent, submissive.

But he wondered, what would it be like to have her all. Hold onto her, spoil her. In the end, all he ever wanted was a baby girl.

-

hope you enjoyed that chapter!

-a

[demethinkstoomuch]

Learning To Read, Pt 6: F is for Faerghus

Chapters: 6/26 (7/26 on AO3) Fandom: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem Series Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro Characters: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Dedue Molinaro, Gustave Dominic, Original Characters, Rufus Blaiddyd Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Canon Compliant, Grief, Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Angst, Fluff, Tragedy of Duscur, Racism, Developing Feelings, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Blue-Lions Typical Mental Illness

Summary:

A series of 26 alphabetically-titled vignettes examining the period where, in the wake of The Tragedy of Duscur, Dimitri taught Dedue to read: a time in which they learned about each other, and the rules of their relationship, perhaps more than about books.

Read on AO3!

A is For Ambiguity

B is for Book

C is for Commendation

D is for Dining

F is for Faerghus

The woman who called herself Cornelia Arnim considered this whole affair to be something of a fiasco, even if the potential for instability from the regency council was immense . But the council was giving her a headache. It was just a cold room full of sycophantic pigs snorting the air at the smell of fresh slop. They weren’t terribly interesting as puppets or tools, the newly-minted regent and his collection of cronies. They couldn’t even recognize that they were pigs, and wasn’t that just sad? None of them were grand noblemen; the room didn’t have a Fraldarius or a Gautier, or even just an equal in terms of clout. Also, at least one of them — one of the regent’s drinking buddies (which described about 2/3rds of the room), a minor noble who’d run in Rufus’ circle since his own academy days — seemed unaware of the fact that she was not there for his personal amusement.

But she smiled sweetly at him from across the table, and tried to think of how best to use him. Cornelia Arnim’s body had its advantages as a lure, at least, even if the fish weren’t the ones she was hoping for. If she needed to get anyone that way, it’d be the man himself. She’d been planning that the Agarthans would have owned Faerghus by now, using the dear ickle prince’s secret stepmother, wise and noble, stepping into the limelight for the first time. Obviously not the real thing, she was much too whiny and sentimental, depressing and depressed — and this was Cornelia’s opinion as the woman who had had to lure in Patricia. It had been stunningly easy, which had made the plan seem viable. Patricia had wanted so terribly to see her little girl again; she’d offered that wish for Cornelia to use however she liked. They’d spoken with other nobles, ones who were so wildly ambitious that they dreamt of freezing time so their precious kingdom would always be theirs. Ones so hungry they wanted to devour the land. They’d promised Patrcia she’d get what she really wanted, if she was only willing to take a little risk.

The plan had been, obviously, that Patricia would never see her little girl again. Or anyone else, for that matter. The attack from the nobles’ henchmen went off without a hitch. They’d even kept the prince alive, if only just, which would have made things easier. (Now, she wasn’t sure if it was something she wanted. He might have to be neutralized somehow, was the thing.) But after they’d walked Patricia away from the carnage and killed her in secret, that was where things went wrong. Because those moronic soldiers showed up, some detached battalion catching up a little too late. Their absurd vengeance culture rearing its head like a bunch of sharks smelling blood in the water. That pathetic Gustave had arrived too early. They hadn’t had time to get their Patricia ready for her miraculous survival, and so, Patricia simply had not survived in any form. All they had to show for it was the slaughter of an entire town and a sizable power vacuum currently being stuffed with hot air. Which wasn’t bad, necessarily, there was some quality chaos and a lot of raw material, but it was second place. But there were advantages.

Such as the scene playing out before her right now — once you tossed out the more worthless parts, like 90% of the animals littering this room. One of the more studious members of the council — it paid for anyone important to have at his command some little man with nervous energy, bookish disposition, and the patience for paperwork, and Rufus for the time being had this one — was explaining a situation. The son of a minor nobleman had been, according to contacts with official church messengers sent to observe and aid while the kingdom was in this transitional stage, found to be involved as a conspirator in the Tragedy. This was, and about half the room knew it, not remotely true.

“Your Highness,” asked the obligatory bookish man to the regent, “What would you like to do concerning Lord Lonato’s son?”

“...They say he was involved in the king, my brother’s, murder, do they?” asked Rufus, lifting his head from his hand, and sitting back upright in his chair. He was popular with women for a reason, besides his loose spending — the Blaiddyd men bred tall and prone to tapering appealingly from strong shoulder to toned waist, and Rufus had kept himself in that same shape as he’d entered into his early 40s — his face was lined slightly, marked at his eyes and the corners of his mouth with the careless smiles of an adult life lived with abandon. His hair was warmer than his brother’s or nephew’s, not cool blond that had darkened from an infant ice-white, but a vividly red-gold color that blazed thick and sunny all throughout his life. 

“That’s as they report,” answered the man. “They are, of course, offering themselves as aid in the matter of capturing him, while we’re so short-handed.”

“Let them, then. I’m sure their information is accurate.” Rufus brought his chin back down onto his hand. Of course, Cristophe Gaspard had nothing to do with any of this. About half the room knew it, and some of them were so faint of heart they looked shocked or appalled. What precious little cowards. Cornelia made a note about them for later. 

“My lord,” said one, tentatively. “Lord Lonato was once a knight in your service, was he not? As his lord...” 

The other half of the room, the half that didn’t know, looked righteous, and one of them answered first in defense of his lord.

“If Lord Lonato allowed his son to contemplate such monstrosity, then he has betrayed both his lord the archduke and his lord the king; what he ought to do is take revenge into his own hands!”

“I intend to. But not concerning Christophe.” Rufus looked only like he was shoving away a boring chore. As it was: this would let the church think they were busy with something, that was all. “We have more significant action that must be taken than to concern ourselves with him.”

“Ah, yes. Lord Kleinman has a report, Your Highness. It appears emissaries from Duscur’s council of aldermen have come to him seeking peace terms.”

“He should have sent them on to me, not a report.” Rufus glowered. “I am regent.”

“He already knows your answer though, right?” said one man with too much of a smile. He chuckled. “He’s the one dishing out the punishment. You can’t possibly go and fight yourself.”

“I can!” Rufus snarled, pounding the table with his fist. Papers and mugs of beer shook as the whole structure rattled. That was why they couldn’t just replace a Blaiddyd — even the crestless ones had surprising strength. And the ones with crests were beyond even that, monsters in human skin. Their experiments, Solon had told her, were showing real results now, but they weren’t going that well . Rufus’s strength bristled under his shirt-sleeves as the old nerve in him, one she’d have thought killed by drink and sex, reeled as it was struck. “I can, and so I must, or none will believe it of me!”

Everyone was silent until he sat back down, drained his beer and handed the tankard to a servant to have it filled again.

“His part in this measure may be great, but he must remember who has the crown’s authority if he is to receive the crown’s reward.” His cheeks were just the tiniest bit flush when he proclaimed that, the color fading slightly in the next moment.

“Ah, my lord…” said a secretary, who’d been standing by the door with a look of apprehension.”Prince Dimitri has been outside for some time now, demanding to see you. Again. Should I let him in?”

A few people made pitying noises. Rufus dug the heel of his palm into his forehead, preparing himself for what was to follow. He had been avoiding the prince’s efforts to speak to him seriously for some time now. Since the boy had gotten back up onto his feet, more or less. Cornelia had been politely helping him with that, citing the prince’s condition as a reason not to let them talk. ‘He’s been so traumatized after all, we don’t want to upset him further.’ That kind of thing.

“Very well, bring him in.” Rufus sighed. That story couldn’t go on forever, nice as it was for him not to deal with that child. His little brother’s son. 

There were probably people who hadn’t seen the prince properly since the tragedy, and they looked appalled when the drawn little figure entered the room — which was, in its own ways, comical. They had just casually tossed a young man to his death not a moment ago; now, one grave-looking boy was enough to tug at their heartstrings? He’s not even doing that badly anymore! He only trembled a little as he strode forward, as much anger as nerves. 

“Uncle, you must put a stop to this violence,” the prince proclaimed. Oh, yes. He needed to be handled, one way or another.

 ***

“You can’t do this!” “I know what I saw!” Those shouts, high and shattered with fury, had resounded from the walls behind Dedue for a long time, and more besides. Dimitri fought alone in a room where men too important to look at Dedue discussed whether Faerghus would end the retaliation against Duscur now or throw the full weight of the crown’s knights into it. Eventually, there came a wooden cracking noise like a tree collapsing and a great clatter from inside — metal, glass, wood tumbling down onto the stone. The regent’s council shouted in frustration and disgust, their words muffled until only tone remained.

The lady Cornelia had seen Dimitri out after that sound, with Dimitri clutching his left arm as a nasty bruise welled up through it, still shouting. She’d handed Dimitri over with a reminder not to get too worked up; if the arm continued to hurt, she’d have to check it for re-fracturing. 

“I understand you’re upset, Your Highness, but you will have to apologize for the table when you calm down, okay?” She’d said, patting him on the shoulder. She glanced at Dedue, cold and dismissive. Dedue glared back, but she tossed out her order without regard. “You. Keep an eye on him.”

 Dimitri hadn’t responded sensibly. He’d cried and he’d shouted, still carrying out his arguments. His apologies and shouts had given Dedue time to sit them both down on the steps, try and recover his own wits. He felt at once stunned and a gnawing cold misery: He should have known.

 Dimitri’s words had been barely coherent enough for Dedue to assemble what had gone on. They’d said Dimitri was confused. That he hadn’t seen what he said he’d seen — he hadn’t seen his father’s killers the way he thought he had. Not if he said they weren’t from Duscur. The king’s life must be paid for. So the war would not be postponed, would not be stopped, not if he could not produce names for the regent that showed the people of Duscur innocent. 

But he could not produce names. So all he could do was insist and shout and plead until he was like this, his voice worn to shreds, his arm aching, his whole being unfocused and unraveled. The blood would be spilled. That was all there was to it: what other price for a king was there?

“I don’t know who they were... Father, how can this be for you, when it has nothing to do with your killers?! How can you want innocent people to die?!” Dimitri muttered into the echoing expanse. The stairway stretched out before them, descending away from the formal council room into an open hall. The sounds of people were distant, muffled by stone walls. Dedue didn’t attempt to answer him yet. He wasn’t sure he could have. And so Dimitri went on. “...I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll get it right. I will. I’m....” He shut his eyes, lowering his head into his hands. “I’m sorry, Dedue.”

This was the first time Dimitri had acknowledged him, and so Dedue had to finally try and find something to say. Everything in him was squeezed tense — his shoulders, his gut, his jaw were all tight, and it was hard to find a way around it.

“It is not your war,” he answered, eventually. A sigh parted his lips. Dedue could only stare upwards at the great, vaulted ceiling. He was not used to feeling small.

 “If I’d only been calmer, would they have believed me?” Dimitri asked, the fury of his voice inward. Dedue was not sure if he entirely believed Dimitri, either. He would have liked to, but Dedue wasn’t entirely sure how to trust his mind; in moments like these, when everything was so close to the surface, it seemed like a ship tossed on the waves. Everything that day had been so confused. Instead, he shrugged. His feet descended down another step, his long legs slipping from their fold. The floor was a great way down.

“Not if they would not think about you when you are...hurt,” is what he said, his voice deliberate, stiff, quiet. He couldn’t say what he was feeling; he didn’t want to. Just let it flatten like a plain until he could build something useful on it. “Perhaps once they have had a battle, they will be tired of it. It will stop.”

“It shouldn’t be happening at all!” Dimitri answered. Obviously, but that wasn’t helpful, save spiritually. “If we could stop it before a true war breaks out, then it’d be OK!” He lifted himself back up to his feet, wincing from his arm. Dedue half-turned to watch the prince pace.”What if I ran away?”

“Where?” Dedue raised an eyebrow.

“To the border, of course! My uncle might be in charge here, but I am the crown prince… And the common soldiers and knights agitate for my father’s sake. The fools,” Dimitri’s eyes narrowed, bitter words breaking through his clenched jaw. His footfalls bounced off the stone. “But surely, they’d listen?” 

The idea had allure; it shimmered between them as a gossamer dream, intangible as light, but just as real. 

“Perhaps…” Their eyes met and held one another, hope sparking for a moment; they’d pack in the dead of night. They’d hurry there, as swiftly as they could, carried on the wind; speak with passion and valor; be heard by people who must have been, in their own ways, simply trying to do what seemed just. 

Dedue tore his eyes away from it. It hurt more than he wanted it to.

“No, you should not.” It stung to say, but the truth had sunk in.

“Why not?” Dimitri’s voice lifted, his footsteps coming to a halt.

“You are not well enough to travel alone. We would be slow and caught together.” Dimitri was much recovered now, at least physically, but a country away was too far. Dimitri knew that and sagged with a shake of his head. 

“...If we were caught, you would certainly bear the brunt of consequences as if you’d kidnapped me,” he said, to Dedue’s surprise. He hadn’t thought about what would happen to him . “I don’t want to imagine what would happen to you, or to everyone else as a result.”

“Hm. Second, even if you managed to move the soldiers and knights… If you cannot move their leaders, they will find more soldiers,” Faerghus was a rack of swords; Faerghus was a place where they said children of their high families learned to fight from the time they were born. The leaders themselves could fight best of all. So there would always be more until there was no one left. 

 “I hate this.” Dimitri’s gaze eventually broke, and he dropped himself back down onto the steps next to Dedue. It should have been a relief to hear — it prickled up against him instead, like a leg half-asleep. Tears weren’t dripping down Dimitri’s face, but they bubbled through as he spoke, his hands covering his face. When his hands dropped, slowly, they left red, scratchy trails. “I hate being so weak. People are going to die — not just soldiers, but fathers and mothers and —! Doesn’t anyone care?”

Part of Dedue was glad Dimitri cared, even if it meant watching him tearing himself to pieces like this. Part of Dedue felt Dimitri’s hands, only closing on air, grabbing him and pulling his heart, and he didn’t want that. He wanted nothing. Dedue’s teeth found his inner lip and bit down on it, unsure which part should win. It was a tiring battle. 

“You do,” he answered, unable to catch what feeling with which he meant it. The feeling in his voice wasn’t relieved, but he went on, “And I need this of you.” He reached out to grab Dimitri’s hands, take them back from the edge before they did more damage. 

“Of course,” Dimitri’s answer was more confused than confident. The hands in Dedue’s grip went slack, stopped resisting. They were limp and lost and defeated. Dedue let them retreat back to Dimitri’s lap. Dimitri had turned to watch Dedue’s face. His eyes looked clearer than they had since he’d gone in the other room — clear enough to see the way Dedue’s jaw was clenched tight and how Dedue hated it, clear enough to see the way his eyelids trembled with what he could not keep holding back. Things clicked, it seemed, and Dedue was surprised to hear Dimitri sniffle back a tear. “I’m sorry; it’s selfish of me to go on like this, when it’s so hard on you. But I refuse to surrender, and neither should you.”

“So what will you do? Will you continue to ask?” He tried to ignore the matter of himself, of how hard it was . He rested his hand on the stone, shutting his eyes and feeling its polished surface under his hand. His fingertips brushed over little pits and light flecks marring the darker shades. Dedue envied it — cold and quiet and stable; it hadn’t so much as warmed under him. It endured everything, and it felt nothing. It didn’t wonder if that place was home, even with nothing left for him but memories that toyed with comforting and hurting him. It didn’t have to remember. It didn’t clench itself, toes to teeth, when the memories of swords and fire still echoed, summoned by the flames burning miles away, summoned by the sound of knights, summoned by the knowledge that right behind him, at that moment, were men who would toss a world into that fire if it only satisfied their blood. It could simply not have those feelings when it couldn’t do anything about them. 

“If I can start by clearing the names of the people of Duscur…  Then there surely everyone will see sense. I know there are people who don’t want this — they can’t . But everyone is hurt and frightened. If they understand, then we can make peace and make things right!” He insisted, clenching his hands over the air. But he didn’t begin to scratch himself again. “I owe it to you, and everyone who died, and everyone who will die. I will… try to remember anything that could point to their true identities. I know it might not be heard at all. Fools. Fools.” Dimitri shook his head, his eyes tightening. His hands balled into white-knuckled fists, tremors running through them. Dedue pressed his hand harder onto the stone, trying to block out what was creeping in him like the first freeze. How hopeless it all was — someone who had actual courage, trying to plead for human lives with men like that.  “But I can’t stand for Faerghus’ justice to be used as nothing but a cudgel.”

And Dedue’s hand slipped off the step. His knuckles, so tense they could have burst through his skin, scraped against it. The tendons in his neck froze into place, wound like a clock whose springs went tighter and tighter, until finally — he snapped. 

“That is what it is,” he said, voice plain and simple, and finally dropping a weight. He didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Why was he saying this? It would be easier if he didn’t. His throat tightened like it might choke him. “They do not want your words to matter, and so, they will not work. What they wish for is battle. What happens next is of no consequence to them. 

“Perhaps some it is just.” He almost tossed the words at Dimitri, whose eyes were wide and staring, wounded at not being believed even by Dedue. Then they drew nearly to a close, softly, which was worse. He must have seen how misty Dedue looked. He felt like an avalanche, moving downhill — his words came with a building momentum, inexorable.“I cannot judge. I know that Duscur is like anywhere, maybe even here… There are good and bad people. Murderers. Children. But it is all the same to them. How could it ever stop?”

 He took a long breath, found it harder than he expected; it sputtered and broke before becoming deep enough. He was not yet crying — but he understood, he would. He couldn’t stop anymore; he’d broken at last, and now he could simply keep sliding down into his own depths. Part of him wanted to stop. To keep going on with the life he’d found worth living after the people who’d made his life before were gone, pretending he’d never felt like this. He shut his hands tight. They were shaking with bottled-up feeling.

“I truly...hate it. All of it. I hate knowing what Faerghus can do, will do, has done . I hate being looked at the same as if I had killed your father myself.” But going on as if it weren’t true wouldn’t make it untrue — still. He felt like as he pulled and pulled, it just went deeper. Feelings dark as night he hadn’t named , had put aside. It wasn’t hot — it was cold, so cold. It was drowning and freezing at once. He envied the stones, he really did: stones didn’t turn themselves over and see something they hated. “I hate the way I am spoken of… They way only I could not be let by your side when you were hurt, because of them… And —”  His eyes fell on Dimitri, then, and he understood. There was nothing that feeling did not touch. He recalled the way Dimitri’s feelings could drag his own out of him, and now — now that face, lips tense, eyebrows set gravely, and eyes red-rimmed and so, so sad for him — so uninjured by all Dedue had said, save that he didn’t believe. So undefended, like Dedue could plunge in a knife.

 “...I hate how ugly I am, to feel the way I do,” Dedue croaked, unable to look at that gods-cursed face a moment longer. He couldn’t change how he felt, not anymore, but he could stop. He could turn away; it would just have to be bolted up inside of him, turning his innards black with frostbite. 

“I think you’re right to be angry,” Dimitri answered, which made it all worse. “You’re right to hate all of this...What happened that day, what’s happened since, is monstrous, and nothing else. Even if no one else sees that right now, I…” His voice was shaking. Still somehow, Dedue was the one with the knife in him when Dimitri said, “feel like that, too. I don’t mean to say they compare, but… I think your fury just.”

“Dimitri, you do not understand.” He was unable to bolt it in if Dimitri kept dragging it out — stop, just stop. “It is still uglier than that… To hate all that I hate.”

“Oh.” Dimitri’s face briefly slackened, until it somehow — worse than anything — masked itself in a bland little smile, the smile of the Prince of Faerghus. Even if it collapsed almost instantly, it had been placed. The eyebrows drawn sadly together, the smile reaching his eyes not happily, but with soft self-deprecation. ”Me.”

“...I do not know if it is hate. I do not know the right word.” He knew just the right word in his own language, and said it aloud then — a word that meant something that ground you like wheat in a mill until you were bitter and tired.

 It hung there in the air, waiting for something, but all Dimitri could do was shake his head. He couldn’t translate that one, either. Before Dimitri could say anything, Dedue held up his hand. The feeling was awake, alive, trapped under his ribs and locked up in his lungs, his neck, his closed-off teeth. The borrowed tongue fell away from him, then he returned to his own. Dimitri would have to keep up, to guess over gaps in his knowledge of the language, as Dedue so often had to with him. He couldn’t say it any other way. 

“<I am… mad at you, sometimes. Something like that, anyway. I’m mad at who you are and what you mean.

“<You are the ‘prince’ of Faerghus. And this is so important that I’m unworthy of you to everyone . You bear their name! They kill for that name, for your father’s name, for that title I barely understand! Your good name is… so precious to them. But when the time comes…>” Turning this on Dimitri hurt. But that truth also hounded him — it leapt up his closed-off throat.  He hurried over the words, not looking to see if he was understood. Dimitri did not try to stop him — good enough. “<It’s all meaningless. It’s all useless . It’s cruel to ask you to carry this, but if you can’t, then no one will. I see that, now. It’s cruel that you’re the only one there is to ask.

“<And…Sometimes, I’m mad at you because I think…>”Dedue’s feelings crested, swelling up in his chest until they pounded against him, and came out the only way they could. Hot tears pooled in his eyes and dropped smoothly down. His voice was small and hoarse, a pained whisper. “<Why me, Dimitri? Why not save someone else?>” 

The bit of Dedue that pounded against his breastbone like a maddened, captured bird wanted Dimitri to not understand. Or more; say Dedue had no right to feel that way about his savior, or to say he did the best he could, or to say there was some reason for it to be him — some divine reason, some calculated reason, some reason less or more than that even the life of a stranger could be precious. Then Dedue could be truly mad at him, truly angry, then he could admire Dimitri a little less, care for him a little less, cut Faerghus into one great bloody clump and hate it all with a chill he’d hardly known was there until this moment, when he looked it in that hollow-eyed face. 

And when the hate had wrung out of him like tears, he really could turn his heart into stone.

But Dimitri didn’t say that. Not a word of it. Instead, he frowned, his eyes gone soft teardrop blue. He almost reached out a hand, but though it hovered in the space between them for a moment, it retreated to fall back onto his lap.

“I know that, for everyone I could not save then and cannot save now, there is neither excuse nor forgiveness. It would be mad, not to hate me after how much we’ve hurt you...There’s nothing ugly about it.” Dimitri stared at the hand he had almost reached out, his expression still somewhere far away from it. The silence stretched until he looked Dedue head-on again, a sad smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he whispered, small and hoarse,  “It’s OK.”

 Something thawed out inside him at those words, easing into the shelter they gave him.  It was OK. Nothing could make its way out of Dedue save tears. Silent, marked only by the faintest tremor that ran through him. It was OK. That black frost was still somewhere inside of him, and that was OK. Dimitri’s answer took him by the hand and warmed him, piece by piece, massaging his jaw until it let go, until his fingers and toes unclenched, until that feeling had surrendered him. All the things he’d gambled on Dimitri’s answer, all the things he’d considering throwing aside, all the rest of him came back to meet him, shocking as a spring flood — his heart, his hope, his life. 

His shoulders shook; his throat worked to make a breathless whine. Dimitri’s hand reached for him, and Dedue slumped into the touch wordlessly. Stone could never be warmed like this, not if it sat in the sun a million years.

“I won’t give up. I swear. I swear. I...I’m sorry you have to ask that. I’m so sorry.” Dimitri murmured, voice bare. And this, too, was a hurt stone couldn’t know. He had survived. They had survived, and this was all the reason that there was for it. Dimitri’s body heat was added to Dedue’s side as he, all the parts of the Prince of Faerghus that were simply Dimitri, leaned his head against Dedue’s shoulders. When Dedue didn’t shift away, a sob tore from him. He looked up through lashes only a little darker gold than the rest of him, blue summer skies streaked through with cloudy tears. He whispered something from the back of his throat. . “It really is a painful thing to wonder, isn’t it?”

 All Dedue could say for his understanding was in the way he leaned his own weight against Dimitri’s side. The smaller boy didn’t fold or crumple, but stayed, their figures leaned close to one another. His tears fell onto Dimitri’s hair as they slid down his face; Dimitri’s tears pooled against Dedue’s neck. It was regret and hurt in them, hate and frustration. They were surprisingly warm. The boys huddled on each other’s shoulder, there on the steps before the regent’s council chamber. When the adults exited, they would have to go around. The two of them wouldn’t be moved just yet. He didn’t have to move. He didn’t have to attempt to stop. For a long time, they simply wept for a world they could not change. They didn’t speak another word until all the tears had been wrung out from the bottom of Dedue’s heart, from Dimitri’s heart, from the burning plains of Duscur, miles and miles away.

[umbrella-passerbys-blog]

Stormed In

prompt credit by @dailyau

It was the perfect weather to sleep to. Rain pattered against the window, frequent thunder and lightning boomed against the four walls. But Rose was doing anything but sleeping.

She was studying, racking her brain for information she should have learned months ago but never understood. Head to her palm, elbow on desk, and lamp flashing on textbook, she muttered the passage over and over even though it had lost its meaning.

Her final was tomorrow, and she was anything but ready. Everyone in her class understood every word Professior Weibe said, but Rose didn’t. She had to pretend she did, though. Lacing her fingers into themselves, resisting the urge to raise her hand. Posing thin-lipped smiles to students on lab day. She was never the dumb one in high school, and God forbid she be one now.

With a yawn, her eyes drooped, and her head slipped into sleep.

After a shortly wild dream she couldn’t quite remember when she woke up, there was a knock on the door. It was discernible to the thunder, but seemed louder.

She stumbled out of her room, dragging to the door. The “no strangers” rule felt so far away. Absentmindedly, she opened her door, a door that always squeaked and creaked, and looked to see who it was.

It was Christine Lee. A girl in the college class she was studying so hard for. A girl who was at the top of the class. A girl who she had a history project with in fifth grade.

A girl whose hair she remembered cascaded so prettily, eyes that stared so deeply, laughed so sincerely. A girl that she convinced to herself at the time wasn’t a crush, even though it indeed was.

Christine Lee was completely distraught. Her hair stuck to her head, neck, and chin. Her clothes dripping and hugging her thighs and torso.

“Hi. I’m... Christine Lee. I’m in your Chem 120 class,” she held her hand out to shake Rose’s for but a moment, but then stuck it to her side, changing her mind midway. Rose smiled, pretended that she didn’t see her almost-gesture.

Rose stared blankly at her before coming to her senses, “Yes, hi. What are you doing here?”

“Um— well—“ she stuttered a bunch, choosing her words so she wouldn’t stumble.

“The bus broke down near your house—and I know it’s your house because you organized that study session one time— and I know we’re not super close but I live three miles away and this storm is horrible, can I stay over?”

Rose paused, as more cracks of thunder and lightning tackled the ground.

“Um, yeah...” Rose said hesitantly, letting Christine come into the house.

Christine looked around, finally noticing how dark it was inside. Of course, it was midnight, but she had sworn the light was on as she asked Rose to stay here.

“Would you like a change of clothes?” Rose asked, curiously.

Christine nodded with a quaint please, standing stiffly by the doorway, embarassed that she was soaking Rose’s hardwood floor with her dripping clothes.

Christine was rather mortified that she had allowed herself to give in to the storm, and stay at a stranger’s house.

She didn’t know the first thing about Rose except that her name was Rose. They had shared small moments in the lab room where Rose would ask a quick question to Christine, but Christine always explained too briskly to get to know her. Which was a shame, Rose seemed like a delight to get to know.

Rose came back with a towel, a sweater, and sweatpants, directing her to the bathroom and telling her that when she’s done there’d be a hot chocolate on the counter. Christine thanked her, then closed the bathroom door. That door creaked, too.

Rose didn’t know the first thing about hospitality. She never had people over. Except for that one study session in May. They all got hot chocolate, too.

It was weird. Here she was, letting her first crush waltz into her house. Her first crush, that she was so embarassed to have a crush on, that she didn’t even talk to her. She wouldn’t let herself. And now she’s here, showering in her own shower, changing into her own favorite sweater. Why she gave her her favorite sweater was beyond her, it just happened.

Christine walked out in her favorite sweater, towel wrapped over her head.

“There was word of hot chocolate..?” said Christine, smiling.

“Indeed there was,” Rose said, handing it to Christine. It took all her will not to show shaky hands.

“You know,” Christine said, “There aren’t a lot of people that I know that still make hot chocolate in June.”

“Well, you’re just not with the right people then,” Rose said, taking a sip out of her mug.

Christine laughed her sincere laugh, digging cracks into the corners of her mouth, “That, I agree with.”

They continued to talk, sipping hot chocolate. Rose willed herself not to stare too hard at her favorite sweater, or at her cracked smile.

“So, what were you doing before I came here?”

“Where were you going on the bus so late?” Rose rebuttaled.

“Oh, wow,” Christine said, playfully rolling her eyes, draining the last of her hot chocolate from the mug. Rose smirked, noting that Christine wouldn’t share that with her like she thought she would.

They stared at each other, almost testing if one would spill. Rose noted that her eyes still stared just as deeply as before, and with a sigh, she took her mug and Christine’s to the sink and began washing.

Christine leaned over the counter, watching her wash the dishes.

“So, is what you won’t tell me... juicy?” she asked, beaming at the word juicy.

“More sad and pathetic than it is juicy, really,” Rose said, trying her best to sound apathetic. She gave a glance to Christine, to see her reaction. Her face was embarassed, solemn, and all shades inbetween. Rose gave her a small smile, turning off the faucet and putting the mugs out to dry upside down on the rack.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to tell each other everything,” Rose said, almost putting her hand to her shoulder, but stopping midway, ending sharply back to her side.

“Right,” Christine said, smiling and pretending she hadn’t seen her almost-gesture.

But in that moment, Rose wished she did tell her everything. Because now she wasn’t so embarassed of it. Because now, she was standing before her, hair wrapped in towel, wearing her favorite sweater, fresh out of her own shower. And it didn’t seem so far away anymore.

Before Rose spoke up, and told her everything, Christine interjected.

“So, I guess I’ll sleep on the couch?” she asked, eyeing the sofa hard, as if that small moment never happened.

“What? No, I have a pull out bed in my room that’s much more comfortable.” Rose said, full-gesturing her to follow her to her room.

They walked through a hallway in the dark, as Rose forgot that her guest didn’t really know her house like she did, until they reached the end of the corridor. Rose flipped the switch, revealing several textbooks ajar on the floor, as well as several empty coffee mugs laying on the ground.

Rose turned magenta, turning to Christine in embarassment. She had forgot that amidst the new guest, she was studying.

Christine strolled in, sitting criss-crossed on the floor. “So, what are we studying for?”

Rose’s eyes met the floor, as Christine looked at the cover of one textbook to the other.

“You need help with Biochem?” Christine asked, trying her best to hide the surprise in her throat. Rose always seemed so confident in that class, but judging from the magenta on Rose’s face, she never was.

Rose opened her mouth, closed it, and just nodded instead.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Well, it’s a hard class,” Christine said, moving from criss-crossed to a sitting position that made her lean to her side, “Here, I’ll help you.”

Rose came into her room like it was a stranger’s, insecure of the vulnerability she felt, as the girl that was top in her Chem 120 class was prying into her books.

“First off, there’s nothing to be ashamed of, and I know you are ashamed, as you look so embarassed,” Christine reaffirmed.

“I want to help you.”

“I used to have a crush on you. Fifth grade,” Rose blurted out. “We were in the same elementary class, believe it or not. We did a history project together.. about the colonial times.

“And I liked the way your hair cascaded, and the way your eyes stared, and the way your laugh reverberated. I liked you.

“And I was so embarassed that I did, I denied all feeling of it. Said I just admired you. But it wasn’t just an admiration, I liked you.

“So, believe it or not, this really is embarassing for me. And I know we’re not super close but my pride is in my academia, since forever, and having to show my first crush that I’m struggling really sucks, so can we just... not?”

Christine cleared her throat and took a deep breath. Thunder and rain dominated the silence.

“I was coming home from my girlfriend’s house when the bus broke down. We were fighting for... four— no five— hours about the same things. And I was crying the whole bus ride home because she broke up with me, and I remembered that your house was just a stretch down the street.

“I don’t know why I remembered, but it wasn’t that my house was three miles away, I just thought that you would be a delight to get to know on this fine night.

“And now, my hair is wrapped in your towel, and I’m wearing one of your sweaters, and I just talked over a cup of hot chocolate with you in the middle of June,” Christine’s eyes stared deeply into hers as she said this, and Rose was biting on a small part of her lip.

“And I know that we’re not super close but I’d like to be,” Christine trailed, “and I think a nice way to start off with this getting-to-know is studying.”

Rose smiled, and took a seat on the floor. Amidst the stormy night, they studied together, the lightning’s flash in their eyes, thinking of how it was such a wonderful night to be stormed in.

[yoi-secret-valentines2017]

How to Surprise Your Fiancé With Pork: An Honest Walkthrough by Viktor Nikiforov

[for @love-like-a-soldier]

–

The thing with Viktor is that once he’s set his mind on something, there is a very very minuscule chance of him not following through on said thing.

Add quad flips to his program six months before the Junior Grand Prix series because ‘no-one else is doing them’? Ask anyone who was there: he came, he flipped, he conquered (and, less importantly, Yakov yelled at him the whole time for it).

Take a year off and jump on a plane halfway around the world because the cute Japanese skater from last year’s banquet skated his program? He’s got the stamps on his passport and the shiny ring on his finger to show for that.

Decide not to decide between coaching and competing and resolve to do both this year instead? Well, this last one’s a bit of a work in progress, but Viktor is still sure it will be fine. Granted, his criterion for ‘success’ involves having himself and/or Yuuri, preferably both, on the podium at Worlds, but if that doesn’t happen then it can only mean the apocalypse is coming, and by then nothing will matter anyway.

In any case, the timing of Valentine’s Day is unfortunate this year: it falls a few short days away from when they’ll have to fly out for the Four Continents. After his record-breaking silver at the Grand Prix and subsequent absolute domination of the Japanese Nationals, Yuuri is a favorite to win the tournament this February. He’s been an absolute workhorse these past few weeks, hungry for the win – Viktor couldn’t be prouder of him as a coach, nor more excited to face him on the ice at Worlds in March.

Still, he has a short-term concern that will need to be addressed before anything else: he wants to do something for Yuuri, partly as a Valentine’s Day gift, partly as a prelude to Worlds, and partly ‘just because’. It’s somewhere between dwelling on the abstract thought of Yuuri’s hunger as a competitor, and watching the younger skater on Facetime with his mother back home, that an idea starts to form.

An idea starts to form, and it latches.

“The Japanese do this holiday a bit differently, no?” Georgi comments in the locker room, when Viktor excitedly blurts out his plan to the first non-Yuuri person he can find. “Something about chocolates? And something about another day in March?”

“It doesn’t have to be just about that. It can be… I don’t know. It can be ‘I care about you, you deserve this, thank you for your hard work’?”

“Hmmm. I suppose so.”

Georgi doesn’t look or sound terribly convinced though. Viktor lets the other man side-eye him at least until he finishes cleaning his skates, at which point he whirls around and squints. “What is it?”

“It’s just… I think you are forgetting a small, minor detail.”

“Which is?”

“Well, since when have you ever… actually cooked?”

—

Alright, so it’s no terrible secret that Viktor Nikiforov, the most decorated men’s singles figure skater to walk this earth, might be considered slightly less than proficient in some, shall we say, domestic endeavors. Specifically, culinary endeavors. Alas, for 27 years Viktor Nikiforov, skater extraordinaire and poster boy for countless ad campaigns that showered him with more money than he knew what to do with, lived on the existence of restaurants, takeout and the occasional frozen dinner.

Yuuri moving in with him was a bit of a blessing in that regard, because his talents in ‘broke college student cuisine’ as he and Phcihit called it meant that Viktor could at least eat warm meals that had been prepared in his kitchen, and from something other than his microwave. Yuuri isn’t a fancy cook, mostly sticking to the basics: if it can’t be prepped in half an hour and cooked in much of the same, Viktor doubts he’s seen Yuuri make it. Not that he’s complaining, since a quick dinner means more time for after-dinner activities.

Regardless, he wants to show Yuuri that he appreciates it – that he appreciates him, all of him, his life and love and piping-hot stews, and all the other wonderful things he brought here, to Viktor’s home. Presenting him not only with any dish, but his favorite and a surely-welcome taste of home, sounds like the perfect way to do it.

Georgi has a point, though. Viktor’s lack of… relevant experience could be a hindrance.

It’s okay, though. In the words of one Katsuki Yuuri who had just poked on the whorl of his coach’s hair and then promptly panicked about it, “everything’s okay!” Because Viktor is determined, and much like all of his previous instances of inspired madness, Viktor has a plan of action.

—

Step 1: Look up recipes for katsudon on your phone.

“There are so maaaany, Yura,” he whines, scrolling and scrolling through an endless list of results. Viktor’s half-draped over the railing while Yuri does his stretches at rink side. The only reason he can afford to be this careless is because it isn’t even 7 in the morning yet – far too early for Yuuri to even be awake. Then again, Yuuri is usually the last to leave at night, so it all balances out in the end.

Maybe. Yakov doesn’t yell about it, that’s what’s important.

“Quit bitching and just pick one, old man.”

“But how do I know which one to choose? I should have asked Mama Katsuki for hers, that’s Yuuri’s favorite, right? It would have been foolproof.”

Yuri gives him a look. “Just having the recipe doesn’t mean jack shit in terms of you getting something edible in the end.” At Viktor’s pout, Yuri rolls his eyes. “Besides, you know there’s an actual Japanese restaurant a few blocks from here, right?”

“That would be cheating!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake – what are you even getting him katsudon for, anyway?? Bit premature considering he hasn’t won the Four Continents yet!”

“But,” Viktor breaks into a dazzling smile, “he’s won my heart?”

Yuri makes gagging sounds for a good two and a half minutes.  

Viktor ignores Yakov’s yelling and pays closer attention to one of the recipes. It looks simple enough, it opens with a delectable picture of the finished product, and there’s something in the author’s blurb about ‘authentic’ and ‘Tokyo’. It’s not Hasetsu, but he supposes this will have to do.

By the time Yuuri strolls into the rink, Viktor has already made up his mind and bookmarked this recipe. For a moment he wonders what ‘Tonkatsu’ is and why the word shows up as a link on his screen; when he taps on the link, he’s taken to another recipe page, still under the same author. Ah, so this is for the pork cutlet, then. Of course, that makes sense. He needs to make a mental note of that:

Step 1.5: Remember that Tonkatsu involves a separate recipe on its own.

—

When the much-awaited day arrives, Viktor is ready:

Step 2: Make sure the fiancé is oblivious to everything.

“You’re taking the day off?”

Yuuri is squinting down at him with an unreadable look, and Viktor isn’t sure if he’s suspicious or just confused. He hopes it isn’t the first one though, otherwise he’s ruined. “Just one day, I promise,” Viktor assures him from underneath the pile of blankets and pillows he’s gathered around himself. “I don’t know if I picked this up from Georgi or what…” He punctuates that with an exaggerated sniffle. “I miss Hasetsu. Your lovely city’s weather has made me weak, Yuuri.” Only half a lie.

“Sorry. How do you know you’ll be better by tomorrow?” Yuuri sets his bag back down and sits on the edge of the bed. Somehow he snakes a hand through the blankets and pillows and finds Viktor’s forehead. “You don’t have a fever at least.” He sighs in relief. “That’s good.”

“Mmmm.” Fake-sickness or not, Yuuri’s hands always feel good against his skin, and he’ll never get tired of Yuuri’s touch. Viktor almost has half a mind to abandon the plan altogether, yank his Yuuri down and pull him close, kiss him… patience, there will be time for that later, he tells himself. This will all be worth it. “Or it could just be fatigue. I suppose we’ll find out tomorrow?”

Yuuri frowns. “I can take the day off too, just to make sure…”

No, no, no, that is the opposite of what he wants. “And lose a precious day of training less than a week before the Four Continents? I can’t allow that.”

“But – ”

“What kind of coach would I be if I let my student lose precious ice time at this crucial moment, all because of something a few painkillers and some rest should remedy?”

“Well…” Yuuri brushes back some tendrils of hair that had fallen in front of Viktor’s face. He almost wants to purr. “If you’re sure…” He finally stands up, and leans down to press a quick kiss against Viktor’s lips. “Text me if you need anything, okay? Anything at all. I’m going to be doing ballet at Madam Baranovskaya’s for most of the day, but I’ll keep an eye out for any messages from you.”

Viktor smiles and nods, and offers a pathetic little wave as Yuuri leaves. He’s already running late, he thinks with a glance at the clock: it’s almost noon.

He waits exactly ten minutes, and then leaps out of bed.

—

Step 3: Obtain all the necessary ingredients.

There’s a handful of Asian supermarkets in St. Petersburg, and the closest one still takes him the better part of an hour to get to. He wasn’t kidding about the weather being harsher than Hasetsu’s, and the snow and ice make for some tricky walking.

What’s important is that he makes it. And what’s even more important: where can he find dashi stock?

“It looks like this,” he tells one of the store employees, pulling up a picture of a bottle on his phone. “I think? It’s stock made from some kind of kelp.” The man stares at him, and Viktor sighs. “No? Okay, then.”

He tries a couple more times, and then finally just pulls up a new browser tab on his phone. ‘Dashi stock substitute,’ he types.

Chicken stock it is.

He knows he’s off to a terrible start when he can’t find the mirin either. He makes it through several trips up and down the store aisles, circling back on himself once or twice, before considering if he’s to settle for some dry sherry and brown sugar. But at the last minute, he spots a single row of bottles – shorter than the rest, easy to miss – and thanks his lucky stars for the bright red caps.

From there, it’s easier to find the pork and the panko bread crumbs. He thinks they should still have soy sauce in the kitchen, since Yuuri uses it a lot for his stir-fry dishes. And they should definitely have onions back home.

Shouldn’t they? In his excitement to leave the apartment to go shopping, he realizes, he didn’t think to check what they had in store. In hindsight, he really should have done that.

Somehow, by the time he heads out with his purchases, the snow has gotten worse.

—

Step 4: Walk your dog before committing to any cooking, especially if this is your first serious time doing this, as you will probably be tied up in the kitchen for hours.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Viktor pouts. Makkachin’s face after a short half-hour stroll seems to say ‘that’s it?’ She shakes her fur in the foyer to retaliate, and Viktor sighs fondly even as he’s drenched.

Then he gives her a dog biscuit, because he can deny her nothing.

He takes a good 20 minutes to make the necessary arrangements so that his little endeavor runs as smoothly as possible: comfortable clothes, new apron, all the lights on in the kitchen, music from his free skate playing on loop from the adjacent living room. He sends a quick message to Yuuri that he’ll be ‘taking a nap’.

His heart swells at the response: ‘⊂(・ヮ・⊂) Feel better!’

Lastly, he also asks Yuri to give him a heads-up once Yuuri leaves for home. He decides to count ‘Fuck off old man’ as a ‘yes’.

“Okay Makkachin,” he calls out in sing-song. She perks her head up for a moment before resuming her task of gnawing on a chew toy. “Here goes nothing.”

—

ACTUAL STEP 1: In a small bowl, combine the dashi  chicken stock, sugar, soy sauce and mirin making sure the sugar is completely dissolved.

Just a year ago, the cupboards in his kitchen were almost completely bare. Now that he tries to remember it, he probably only had a couple of plates, some mismatched glasses and mugs, and maybe two and a half sets of cutlery in there.

It was Yuuri who insisted on shopping for kitchenware together, four jet-lagged hours after moving in. Which is the only reason he actually has the bowls and measuring cups that he needs now.

It’s funny to think about it, how they’re not even technically married yet, but for all intents and purposes they’re already starting to act like it.

Step 2: Add the liquid mixture to a small frying pan over medium heat and bring to a simmer.

Viktor is 99% sure he knows what ‘bring to a simmer’ means, but he looks it up anyway just to be safe. There’s no shame in being sure.

There’s also no shame in incognito browsing, anyway.

Step 3: Add the sliced onions to the mixture and cook until onions are fragrant and start to turn translucent.

Oh, so he was supposed to slice the onions beforehand? That’s not a problem, he can just do it now.

Luckily, they do have enough onions to cover the recipe, if barely. The cutting board and Yuuri’s favorite knife are still in the drying rack from this morning’s breakfast, so it’s easy to find them.

He starts slicing the onions, the knife coming down with every other downbeat of his free skate music. Viktor hasn’t done a lot of knifework in his life at all, so he decides to go slowly. He’s not arrogant to the point of foolishness, there’s a reason he dedicated all afternoon to this task.

He wipes his smarting eyes on his sleeve after the first onion. He expected this much.

He finishes a second onion. It’s getting worse now, he’s still got a lot to do. Maybe this is the plateau though, and in that case, he can tolerate it.

Two and a half onions and oh God the pain is real and the tears might never stop. He abandons his onions, flushes his eyes out with water, and asks the internet for advice again.

Step 2.5: Place onions in the freezer for 15 minutes so that your eyes don’t sting (as much) when you slice them.

He chucks the rest of the onions into the freezer and puts a lid on the sauce before taking a break. When he checks his phone, there’s a message from Yuuri: ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Missing you :(‘, he types out. Guiltily, he realizes it’s one of the few non-lies he’s told Yuuri today. All for a good cause, he convinces himself. ‘Done for today?’

‘Soon. Do you want soup for dinner?’

Uh-oh. ‘Not very hungry. Don’t worry about me.’

‘Σ(゜ロ゜;) But you have to eat something!’

Viktor lets out a little laugh. He doesn’t want to argue with Yuuri about this though. And maybe a little soup won’t hurt, if that’s all it is.

‘Okay, soup sounds good. :) Not too much though!’

Back to his katsudon. The onions are much more cooperative now, Viktor is pleased to find, and he makes quick work of the rest of the batch. Now for the next step…

Step 4: Place the Tonkatsu –

Oh, shit.

—

~INTERMEZZO: TONKATSU~

Step 4.1: Trim the pork chops of any excess fat, leaving just a little on the edges.  Make small cuts in the fatty areas of each chop. This prevents curling when cooking.

Right, good to know that, it’s like he’s learning something new every step of the way. That’s a good thing, Viktor tells himself as he makes cuts in the pork. It’s the same knife he used on the onions, but he’s not sure if it makes a difference. That, and he was too lazy to get another one. This is fine. So far, so good.

Step 4.2: Lightly season both sides of the pork chops with salt and pepper.  

Viktor frowns. How much is ‘lightly’? Everything else in the recipe got actual measurements, why is this suddenly a matter of guessing now?

He decides to err on the side of caution. Yuuri can always add more later.

Actually, does it even matter if all this will be drenched in the mirin-stock sauce anyway? Viktor has so many questions.

Step 4.3: Get three shallow bowls and add flour to one, beaten egg to the second one and panko crumbs to the third one.

Wait, when was he supposed to have beaten an egg before this?

Doesn’t matter, a more pressing concern is that they don’t really have any shallow bowls – much less three. He finds the bowls that they eat cereal in, and decides to use those. God, he’s already filled up the whole counter with stuff. Doing the dishes after this is promising to be an adventure on its own.

Step 4.4: Dust the pork chops in flour (making sure they’re completely covered) then dip in the beaten egg, coating the surface thoroughly.  Finally coat in the panko breadcrumbs. Firmly press each side of the pork chops in the panko so it sticks and you get a nice even coating.

Okay, that is a lot of action for one step.

What Viktor quickly learns is that there’s no real, fast way to do this that’s also dignified. The first time, he drops the pork chop into the first bowl from too high up, and sends a cloud of flour into the air. So he adjusts, taking his time with the egg wash, and then with the breadcrumbs, turning it over and over until it’s thoroughly coated.

So are his fingers, at the end. He’s got panko caked under his nails.

It’s slow going, and he has to add more breadcrumbs to the bowl at some point, but the chops come out looking beautiful. He almost has half a mind to crow about them to Makkachin, but he’s not sure she won’t try to nab one off the counter.

He contents himself with a picture of his work so far.. He’ll think of a witty caption later.

Step 4.5: Fill a medium-sized, heavy bottom pot halfway with oil and heat over medium heat.  When the oil reaches 340 degrees gently lower the cutlets into the oil.

..But this one, this is the step that gives him pause. For all that he’s already willing to indulge Yuuri with this, he’s not too sure how thrilled he is at feeding him fried food. Come to think of it, he’s not even sure that Yuuri, who once said no to his coach-endorsed offer of Shanghai crab with a straight face, would approve.

Is there a recipe for baked Tonkatsu somewhere?

Step 4.5-a: Find a recipe for baked Tonkatsu somewhere.

His phone buzzes as he’s typing in the search bar; he makes a mental note to check it later. For now, he skims over the results and clicks on the third one at random.

What do you know, you can make a sort-of baked Tonkatsu. The fact that the steps between seasoning the pork and getting them all coated and ready to fry are more or less the same is very, very welcome indeed.

Step 4.5-b: Adjust an oven rack to the middle position and preheat the oven to 400F (200C). Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.

Viktor’s phone buzzes again as he’s fiddling with the rack. He’s not sure he’s actually seen Yuuri use this oven before; he usually makes things on the stovetop, unless they’re eating something like salad which doesn’t require even that. He’s also not sure how he’s supposed to know when the oven is done preheating. Is it supposed to make a sound? There’s a green light next to something helpfully labelled ‘PRE’, is that supposed to go off at some point?

So many questions. Viktor has five tabs open when a series of cheerful beeping puts him out of his misery. Remember, he tells himself as he wipes the sweat from his brow, you’re doing this for love!

Step 4.5-b(cont’d): Remember you’re doing this for love!

Step 4.5-c: Place the pork on the prepared baking sheet. Bake until the pork is no longer pink inside, about 20 minutes.

Viktor doesn’t even try to figure out the timer on the oven this time. He just checks the clock on the microwave and – holy shit, is that really the time??

The pork has been cooking for about ten minutes, and Viktor has been trying to find more eggs for about five, when his phone buzzes again. And again.

“Hello?” The phone is sandwiched between his ear and shoulder as he opens cupboard door after cupboard door.

“Finally. What the fuck old man, I was starting to think maybe you burned down your kitchen and died.”

“Not yet,” Viktor forces himself to sing into the phone. “Check again in some 20 minutes though. May or may not be kidding.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “You’re still not done?”

“Why – “

“Check your fucking texts!”

Yuri ends the call before he can protest, so he decides to do just that.

[30 minutes ago]: ‘Piggy’s heading out.’

[25 minutes ago]: ‘Piggy’s on his way. Btw if you didn’t completely fail, I call dibs on leftovers.’

Oh, no.

Oh, no no.

He’s spent countless days in the ballet studio in Lilia’s house, enough to know how much time it takes to get from there to here. That is, not much time at all. Still! He refuses to give up now, not when he’s so close!

Okay, maybe not so close, but he actually got the pork chops into the oven and that’s something, right?

He glances over at the many buttons and labels on his oven. By any chance, does one of them cast ‘miracle’?

Step 4.5-c-1: Locate the manufacturer’s manual for your convection oven. Verify if it has a ‘speed bake’ mode or some similar function that might drastically reduce baking time.

Close enough. He presses it with all the hope and yearning of a desperate man. Oh God Yuuri’s going to be here any minute and the kitchen is a mess. Viktor is a mess.

He decides to spend his nervous energy by at least setting the table –

But wait, he was looking for more eggs, wasn’t he? Damn it. He should have picked some up at the store when he was there –

Why didn’t Yuuri text him to let him know he was coming home? He usually does –

Hang on. When had he removed the lid from that frying pan with the sauce and the onions? He doesn’t remember doing it – but it doesn’t matter now, because there’s not much but onion left. Swearing, he shuts off that burner and moves the pan.

… Where is that infernal sound coming from??

Step 4.5-c-1**: A note of caution regarding the ‘speed bake’ option mentioned in the step above: there is a small chance that you pressed some other button instead of the intended one. Adjust accordingly. For example, if you accidentally set the oven to ‘Broil’, you will want to keep a constant eye on the food inside the oven to ensure that it does not burn up.

Viktor yanks open the oven door. He winces as a blast of heat and smoke smacks him in the face, and coughs out a few selections of Russian profanity. Makkachin’s barking from a room away.

To his dismay, the pork chops are now a rather… unfortunate… color.

And because the universe apparently decides he hasn’t been punished for his hubris enough, the next second his ears are assaulted by a shrill, otherworldly BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Step 4.???: It seems your overhead smoke detector has gone off. Obtain a chair to stand on and some decently-sized flat object which you can use to fan the smoke away from the detector.

Step 4.??? (note): Maybe turn off the oven and stovetop entirely before you do this.

—

This is how Katsuki Yuuri, the love of his life, the apple of his eye, the fire of his loins et cetera, ad infinitum, finds Viktor when he walks into the door: standing precariously with one foot on a barstool and the other on top of his counter, frantically fanning at his smoke detector with a magazine from their coffee table.

It’s… well, it’s not the scenario he envisioned, that’s for sure. In his earlier moments of self-delusion, Viktor might have had visions of candles on the dining table, sparkling wine, and piping hot bowls of katsudon that would make Yuuri’s face light up the room. To his credit, his imaginary scenario didn’t necessarily involve a spotless kitchen as well, but he didn’t envision it was ever going to get this bad. He thinks he must present quite the sight himself, with flour and panko all over his clothes and hair.

Neither of them says anything for a few, long seconds. Yuuri looks like he’s still struggling to process what exactly he’s meant to do with everything he’s seeing right now. There’s a flush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and his mouth hangs half-open.

No, don’t say anything yet! He can still fix this! He can…

Oh. Did he ever make rice?

Step 5: Nope. It’s all over now, save for the shoutings.

“Oh, Yuuri,” he groans. He drops down from the stool and buries his face in his hands, promptly getting flour on his face. “I have no words. I just wanted to surprise you. I promise I’ll clean this all up – ”

“Were you cooking?” Yuuri blurts out. He cranes his neck to peer at the oven over Viktor’s shoulder. “So when you said you were sick…”

“Lies,” he admits readily. “With good intentions, I promise, but good intentions only get you so far.” Makkachin bounds in through the kitchen to greet Yuuri, and tracks paw-prints of flour in her wake. “I suppose I deserved this,” he adds in lament.

“Don’t say that,” Yuuri chuckles. “I’m… I’m touched. And I am surprised. Really.”

Viktor suspends his dramatics for a moment to scrutinize the look on Yuuri’s face. His eyes seem to have grown even wider since the initial shock of walking into their catastrophe of a kitchen, which doesn’t make any sense. And…

“Wait.” He finally notices the huge plastic bags in Yuuri’s hands, too big and too many for to hold just soup. “What are you carrying?”

Somehow, the adorable flush on Yuuri’s cheeks only deepens. “I, uh…” He avoids Viktor’s eyes as he unloads container after container on the counter: boiled eggs, some kind of barbecued sliced meat, loose herbs in little bags, and… several different thermoses? “You said you were feeling sick and that, the weather was bad and um, that you missed Hasetsu. You didn’t exactly say ‘no’ to soup, so I… I made ramen?”

Viktor stares at him. Yuuri stares at a package of noodles. “You… made ramen.”

“W-well, it’s not going to be anywhere close to what you got back home… I didn’t exactly have 18 hours to burn, so. The pork’s from a Chinese takeout place. The eggs might have ended up cooking a bit longer than I wanted. Uh, and the noodles are a bit mushy because I got distracted when Yurio kept yelling – “

“Yurio helped you with this??”

Yuuri finally laughs. “Sure, but only after I promised him half of the finished product. And to take the full blame if we ever ended up trashing Lilia’s kitchen.”

“I… I thought you said you were going there for ballet training.”

“Not a lie! We did all this after.” Yuuri scratches at the back of his head, and offers a sheepish smile. “It’s funny, huh? We both wanted to surprise each other.”

“But ended up thinking of the same thing anyway,” Viktor breathes. And then he can’t take it anymore, because he pulls Yuuri close to him, ignoring his still-freezing skin and the indignant yelp as he gets flour on Yuuri too.

The thing with Viktor is that once he’s set his mind on something, there is a very very minuscule chance of him not following through on said thing. To his credit, it can never be said that he gave up on this brave culinary adventure, not really anyway, even though the results turned out… less than ideal.

But did they, really? He’s not so sure anymore, not when he’s got Yuuri in his arms and a perfect close-up view of that pretty blush on his face that still hasn’t gone away. He’s not sure he can ask for much more than this.

Viktor presses a kiss against his cheek to try to make the blush even worse. It works. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Yuuri smiles, and buries his face into his neck. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“For what it’s worth, I am truly, truly sorry about the current state of our kitchen.”

“I’m just glad you’re not actually sick.”

“… I have so much to clean up.”

“Maybe I’ll help you.”

“Maybe,” Viktor echoes. He squeezes him tighter and wonders how he ever got so lucky. “Hungry?”

—

The Tonkatsu is hopeless, gone, like it barrelled full-throttle towards ‘inedible’ under that broiler and then kept going, possibly screaming its own name. With the rest of the ingredients and some leftover chicken breast in the fridge, Yuuri manages to make something quite palatable. He also makes rice.

Meanwhile, beside him, Viktor heats up the ramen broth. Which really just involves moving it all from the thermoses to a pot, and staring at the pot while it sits on the stove. But he’s got this.

He even stirs it once or twice, to feel useful.

—

Later that week, Yuuri takes gold by a margin of 2.57 points from JJ at the Four Continents.

Viktor had already pinned all the Japanese restaurants in a five-kilometer radius that serve katsudon by the time they landed. Right after the awards ceremony, Viktor drags Yuuri to the nearest one, and Yuuri finally gets his hands on a proper pork cutlet bowl – with actual dashi stock! – for dinner.

–

A few hours after dinner, Viktor gets to eat some katsudon too.

“Vkusno”, he murmurs playfully into warm skin, earning a laugh and a kick for his troubles. All is well with the world.

[allofbeercom]

Things I Wish I Could Tell My Younger Self About Calvinism (Or: How to Be Less of a Jerk)

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When I first understood the Doctrines of Grace (more commonly known as Calvinism and/or Reformed theology), I felt like I had entered The Matrix (minus Keanu Reeves).

It was as if multiple puzzle pieces were clicking into place and a single, unified picture was becoming clear. Things that seemed somewhat confusingly jumbled, like the various covenants, Israels rejection of Christ, and weird statements in the book of Romans, suddenly came together, like in a television show when an enlightened detective starts drawing lines between various mug shots and newspaper clippings while heart-thumping music plays in the background.

Picture this, except with pages of scripture

All this was a big deal to me, and I quickly came to the conclusion that it was my mission from God to convert every person in existence to Calvinism. As you can imagine, this made me quite a pleasant person (insert record scratch noise).

As Ive gotten older, slightly more godly and slightly less annoying, Ive come to a few realizations about the place the Doctrines of Grace should hold in my life.

I wish I could go back in time and communicate these things to my younger self, although my younger self probably would have fiercely debated my older self and then come away concluding my older self was a moron.

What would I tell my younger self?

Calvinism Matters, but Its Not Everything

I treated the Doctrines of Grace as if they were the sum and substance of Christianity. As if when Jesus was asked about the greatest commandment, he said, Be sure you believe in electionand total depravity!

This full-throated zeal for all things Calvinist caused me to look down on those who were far more godly than me yet maybe didnt agree with me on every point of doctrine.

Sure, youve given your entire life to serve orphans and widows in Cameroon, but you dont believe in election, so whats the point?

Meanwhile, Im sitting in my living room, wearing sweatpants and sipping coffee while I readSystematic Theology.

It was absolutely pathetic.

I still believe that the Doctrines of Grace arecrucially important to understanding Scripture, but there are other astonishingly important elements to following Jesus.

Like love. Mercy. Justice. Generosity. Serving. Compassion.

Calvinism should NOT be the dominant theme in everything I do as a Christian. Rather, it should the background track, like the bass line in a Daft Punk song. Or, as John Newton said:

I am more of a Calvinist than anything else; but I use my Calvinism in my writing and preaching as I use this sugar. I do not give it alone, and whole; but mixed, and diluted I think these doctrines should be in a sermon like sugar in a dish of tea, which sweetens every drop, but is no where to be found in a lumptasted everywhere, though prominent nowhere.

Its Not My Job to Convert the World to Calvinism

For a brief time, I became the Mormon missionary of Calvinism (minus the weird name tag and odd underwear). I thought it was my job to convert all people to the gospel of Reformed doctrine, and if they didnt convert, I became frustrated.

If someone disagreed with me, my brain began generating thoughts like this:

Why cant they see it?!? They must be spiritually defective! They must be, like, a baby Christian or something! Have they not accepted John Piper into their hearts? Maybe if I just speak louder and longer, I can convince them of the truth.

I foolishly assumed that it was my God-given responsibility to make sure that every person I knew fully agreed with everything I thought. As if I somehow had cornered the market on all sound doctrine and biblical understanding.

This is incredibly ironic given that the very heart of Reformed theology says God gets all the glory because he is the one ultimately responsible for all the saving, changing and preserving. Its like Alanis Morissette said: Isnt it ironic?

Yes, yes it is.

I dont debate about Reformed theology much these days. Ill happily discuss it with someone who wants to, but I know that I cant convince or change any person.

If you want to chat about Calvinism, lets grab a beer (a requirement of being Reformed) and well hash it out.

Calvinism Is Not Required for Godliness

Some of the most godly, prayerful, loving, generous people I know, do not believe in Reformed theology. These people are so godly and so spirit-filled that they make me look like a headhunting pagan who plays with ouija boards for fun.

The truth is, godliness and Calvinism dont necessarily go together. Calvinists have a somewhat well-earned reputation as pompous, self-righteous windbags who would rather write 10,000-word screeds than actually serve someone.

When I was younger, I assumed that a person who didnt embrace Reformed theology was somehow less mature or godly than me. I look back and shudder.

I was the windbag.

I was the one who loved hearing myself talk.

I was the one who liked to toss around fancy theological words (double reprobation anyone?).

It was both terrifically ungodly and tremendously obnoxious. If you were at the business end of my weaponized Calvinism, I apologize.

I still fully embrace Reformed theology, but I now realize that its no longer necessary for godliness.

When John Wesley (an Arminian) was asked whether he thought he would see George Whitefield (a Calvinist)in heaven, hesaid, No. Then he said:

Do not misunderstand me, madam; George Whitefield was so bright a star in the firmament of Gods glory, and will stand so near the throne, that one like me, who am less than the least, will never catch a glimpse of him

I feel the same, but in the opposite direction. I expect I wont see many of my fellow believers in heaven who dont believe in Reformed theology because they will be much nearer the throne than me.

Calvinism Isnt The Solution for Every Problem

When I first truly understood that God is sovereign over all things, that was a great comfort to me. God is working all things together for my good. God is the one responsible for saving people. God is in control of governments and presidential candidates (thank goodness!).

But too often, I treated the Doctrines of Grace as the cure-all medicine for every spiritual problem.

Youre struggling with worry? Dont you believe God is sovereign?

Youre struggling with anger? Dont you believe in total depravity?

Youre worried about whether youll make it to the end? Dont you believe in perseverance of the saints?

You get the point. Calvinism became my miracle pill that I dispensed freely. No matter the circumstances, I was always quick to whip out my bottle of Reformed theology from my fanny pack of systematic theology (I think that analogy works).

I somehow failed to grasp that truth always goes down better when its preceded by grace, love, compassion, and the bearing of burdens. Grace is the spoonful of sugar that makes the medicine of truth go down. Love, compassion, and empathy make it so much easier to hear truth.

Now I still talk encourage people with those same biblical truths, but not before I spend plenty of time simply listening and bearing burdens.

In the End

When Jesus returns and all is said and done, I dont think well be debating the finer points of theology. Well be so enraptured with the glory of God that not much else will matter.

Until then, Ill seek to continue to learn from those who are more godly than me. By Gods grace, in 10 years Ill be less of apompous windbag than I am now.

Now if youll excuse me, I need to drink a craft beer while listening to a John Piper sermon.

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from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/things-i-wish-i-could-tell-my-younger-self-about-calvinism-or-how-to-be-less-of-a-jerk/

[succorcreek]

Little Golden Book Art of the Steal NSFW Fantasies Well it had been one of those personal delays: I'd put off reviewing Donald Trump's books on his life and business. But I'm finally in them.....or since there is really nothing there but braggadocio in the books and out quickly. Reception and legacy The reviews of the books by professional writers: boyish see in the topic cloud below these 2 topics: age regressed 12 year old "ultra regression" and age regressed 17 year old teen goals language and ideas ((15 articles related to this and included in all 13 books in the catalog tab above) shows ignorance of his own life at the time of writing: repeated bankruptcies greed demonstrated and personified greed is the goal it is good and is morally good in his world view exaggerations and "alternative facts are good" boasting grandiose self-focused he feels he is better than others superficial relationships: others are to be used or if not useful ignored (marginalized) one called it a "morality play" meaning that it was like a play about darkness a lesson about immorality and not really anything moral or ethical Donald Trump based much of this book on the Stolen material from Norman Vincent Peale's The Power of Positive Thinking. Trump's steps are: Think big Protect the downside and the upside will take care of itself Maximize your options Know your market Use your leverage Enhance your location Get the word out Fight back Deliver the goods Contain the costs Have fun How many times we've heard: "I love them (fill in blank) so so much". What is we borrowed our Little Golden Book fantasy and rewrote the Trump Art of the Steal in 21 points??? 1. Revenge is perty fun. This is how I'd like to get back at some of my enemies like McCain and Joe Biden . 2. Women can aspire to become nurses because they wear those cute outfit. 3. most people should have this in their home library . because and it's really really bigly sad: 3. Make lots of jobs for others and tell the media you did it 4. Dang another nurse pix. But it shows I do so like the womenes.... 4. Always tell the truth the awful alternate truth 5. Don't let others steal your own thunder. Act now. 5. Mind your own business and focus focus focus on your own work. 7. Use a big powerful and unabashed vocabulary. It'll make others think highly of you. 8. Meditate daily. Meditation is best without the noise of nature. 9. We're going to reduce the National Monuments and National Parks plus sell off Alaska. It's such a fire hazard. Keep your kids out. 10. I like to use simple guidelines to select my staff generals consultants and Supreme Court Nominees. I get my info from this entertaining book: 11. Wherever I go I find cats and dogs. Don't like those dogs. But pussies are every where. You can't love a pussy too much. If people in your past and Hillary accuse you of that just tell them we have secret photos of them to release to the media soon. That'll make them shake in their boots. 12. Be firm in what you do. Don't be a wet dish rag. 13. Tell them about your products and goods. They'll be impressed. They'll buy it. 14. Keep good notes on those who are helpful and those who are not. 15. Buy properties because it's a fun investment: 16. Choose your White Supremacy Racists buds well. 18. Indians blech. Keep away cause they have small pox. 19. Be realistic with dreamers and 99% of the population. The truth counts. 20. Communicate well and all the time. Tell people they better support your plans or there could be harm. 21. Give your wife and kids a balance of affection. There is always the risk of too much love. I only give Baron one of these Facehugs once a week so he doesn't become dependent on me. Here are the steps as writen earlier by Norman Vincent Peale in The Power of Positive Thinking. This is helpful information followed by millions. 1. Believe in YourselfIt is appalling to realize the number of pathetic people who are hampered and made miserable by the malady popularly called the inferiority complex. But you need not suffer from this trouble. When proper steps are taken it can be overcome. You can develop creative faith in yourselffaith that is justified. The combined use of holy mantras for immediate comfort and strength and psychological analysis to get to the bottom of why feelings of inferiority might plague us is Peales basic recipe for fostering self-confidence. He emphasizes that it is important to immerse ones mind in spiritual thought and Bible scripture in order to push out negative thoughts that stem from a feeling of insecurity. Deep analysis of ones psyche also must be done to pinpoint the root cause of an inferiority complex. There are various causes of inferiority feelings and not a few stem from childhood. Peale offers his own personal example of inferiority feelings that plagued him throughout his youth. From his early years he was insecure about being very thin and conversely when he reached age 30 years of over-consumption caught up with him and resulted in a weight problem. In the second place...I was a ministers son and was constantly reminded of that fact Peale wrote. Everybody else could do everything but if I did even the slightest little thingAh you are a preachers son. So I didnt want to be a preachers son for preachers sons are supposed to be nice and namby-pamby. I wanted to be known as a hard-boiled fellow...I vowed there was one thing I would never do and that was to become a preacher. (Peale The Power of Positive Thinking) He also developed a fear of public speaking because it was common practice by most of his family members who forced Peal to do it despite his fear and insecurities. Faith techniques found in the Bible brought Peale out of his low-self-esteem doldrums. The greatest secret for eliminating the inferiority complex...is to fill your mind to overflowing with faith. Develop a tremendous faith in God and that will give you a humble yet soundly realistic faith in yourself. The acquiring of dynamic faith is accomplished by prayer lots of prayer by reading and mentally absorbing the Bible and by practicing its faith techniques. (Peale The Power of Positive Thinking) Deep meaningful and powerful prayer techniques subvert feelings of inadequacy. Surface skimming formalistic and perfunctory prayer is not sufficiently powerful Peale wrote. The larger the problem that confronts a person the deeper their level of prayer must be. If your mind is obsessed by thoughts of insecurity and inadequacy it is of course due to the fact that such ideas have dominated your thinking over a long period of time. Another and more positive pattern of ideas must be given the mind and that is accomplished by repetitive suggestion or confidence ideas...It is possible even in the midst of your daily work to drive confident thoughts into consciousness. Peale provides 10 rules designed to assist people in vanquishing thoughts that hold them back from happiness and success and promote low self-esteem: Formulate and stamp indelibly on your mind a mental picture of yourself as succeeding. Immediately contest negative thoughts about ones personal powers with a deliberately placed positive counterpoint. Do not build up obstacles in your imagination. Depreciate every so-called obstacle. Minimize them. Difficulties must be studied and efficiently dealt with to be eliminated but they must be seen for only what they are. They must not be inflated by fear thoughts. Dont let people who impress you cause you to be awestruck and inclined to copy them because the reality is they are likely just as subject to fear and insecurity as you are. Ten times a day repeat these dynamic words If God be forus who can be against us? (Romans 8:31). Connect with a competent psychological counselor to help you understand the reasons for your self-doubt because the cure for insecurity is knowledge of its causes that usually begin during childhood. Ten times each day practice the following affirmation repeating it out loud if possible. I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me. (Philippians 4:13)...That magic statement is the most powerful antidote on earth to inferiority thoughts. Come up with an accurate estimation of your own ability then increase it 10 percent. Avoid egotism but be sure to develop a healthy sense of self-respect. Put yourself in Gods hands. To do that simply state I am in Gods hands. Then believe you are NOW receiving all the power you need. Feel it flowing into you Affirm that the kingdom of God is within you (Luke 17:21) in the form of adequate power to meet lifes demands. Remind yourself that God is with you and nothing can defeat you. Believe that you nowRECEIVE power from him (Peale The Power of Positive Thinking). 2. A Peaceful Mind Generates PowerThe Life of strain is difficult. The life of inner peace being harmonious and without stress is the easiest type of existence. The chief struggle then in gaining mental peace is the effort of revamping your thinking to the relaxed attitude of acceptance of Gods gift of peace. Peale outlines the technique of emptying the mind which involves releasing fears hates insecurities regrets and guilt feelings (The Power of Positive Thinking). During a religious service on a voyage to Hawaii Peale told attendees to drop their worries overboard and watch them disappear in the wake of the ship. Consciously letting go of negative thoughts inevitably brings relief. At intervals during the day practice thinking a carefully selected series of peaceful thoughts. Let mental pictures of the most peaceful scenes you have ever witnessed pass across your mind as for example some beautiful valley filled with the hush of evening time as the shadows lengthen and the sun sinks to waters or emember the sea washing gently upon soft shores of sand. Such peaceful thought images will work upon your mind as a healing medicine. (Peale The Power of Positive Thinking) Peale also suggests a technique called suggestive articulation. Audibly repeat words that carry peaceful connotation. Words have profound suggestive power and there is healing in the very saying of them. He suggests using words as tranquillity and serenity and to say them slowly and repetitively. Lines of poetry or Scripture passages have the same effect. Conversation speech is another conscious way to put the mind at ease. By our speech we can...achieve quiet reactions. Talk peaceful to be peaceful. Eliminating negative ideas from conversations will prevent them from producing inner tension. Although there is an appropriate time and place for confronting negative subjects in general ...to have peace of mind fill your personal and group conversations with positive happy optimistic satisfying expressions. The daily practice of silence is yet another path toward having a peaceful mind. Everyone should insist upon not less than a quarter of an hour of absolute quiet every twenty-four hours. Go alone into the quietest place available to you and sit or lie down for fifteen minutes and practice the art of silence. Do not talk to anyone. Do not write. Do not read. Think as little as possible. Throw your mind into neutral...When you have attained a quiescent state then begin to listen for the deeper sounds of harmony and beauty and of God that are to be found in the essence of silence. These techniques require steady practice and are not easy to instantly conjure into workable fruition for those who are novice to such meditation and conscious control of their conversational speech. Peale also observes that there are self-imposed obstacles to inner peace in the form of haunting guilt. ...[T]here is a curious quirk within the human mind whereby sometimes an individual will not forgive himself...Peace of mind under such circumstances is available by yielding the guilt as well as the tension it produces to the healing therapy of Christ. 3. How to Have Constant EnergyHow we think we feel has a definite effect on how we actually feel physically. If your mind tells you that you are tired the body mechanism the nerves and the muscles accept the fact. If your mind is intensely interested you can keep on at an activity indefinitely. Religion functions through our thoughts in fact it is a system of thought discipline. By supplying attitudes of faith to the mind it can increase energy. It helps you to accomplish prodigious activity by suggesting that you have ample support and resources of power. God isthe source of all energyenergy in the universe atomic energy electrical energy and spiritual energy; indeed every form of energy derives from the Creator. So tapping the infinite power and energy of the Almighty is the best means humans can utilize toward keeping themselves properly energized. When in spiritual contact with God through our thought processes the Divine energy flows through the personality automatically renewing the original creative act. When contact with the Divine energy is broken the personality gradually becomes depleted from the body mind and spirit. On the physical level maintaining a constantly rejuvenating energy supply requires a person is in tune with nature and their emotional stability. Stress angst and negativity all hamper this rejuvenation. This can lead to a feeling of being overwhelmed by ones workload or daily responsibilities. It is fear resentment the projection of parental faults upon people when they are children inner conflicts and obsessions that throw off balance the finely equated nature thus causing expenditure of natural force. The fast pace and chaotic habits of the modern age have a disastrous effect on emotional stability and thus ones energy level. Synchronicity with the natural tempo of Gods creation is the key to filtering out the distractions of overly fast modernity. Peal advice: lie down on the ground on a warm day and listen to the natural sounds of the earth. Get your ear close down to the ground and listen. You will hear all manner of sounds. You will hear the sound of the wind in the trees and the murmur of insects and you will discover presently that there is in all these sounds a well-regulated tempo. This divine tempo is present in the word of God and hymns sung in church and we can also find it in factory if so inclined to look for it. The trick is to feel your way into the rhythm of God and all his creations including machines and tools that mankind has devised. To accomplish this relax physically. Then conceive of your mind as likewise relaxing. Follow this mentally by visualizing the soul as becoming quiescent then pray as follows: Dear God You are the source of all energy. You are the source of the energy in the sun in the atom in all flesh in the bloodstream in the mind. I hereby draw energy from You as from an illimitable source. Then practice believing that you receive energy. Keep in tune with the Infinite. (Peale The Power of Positive Thinking) Boredom as well as monotonous daily responsibilities are other major causes energy depletion. It is important to develop interests that inspire us and make us passionate about life. This excitement and stimulation breeds energy as opposed to sitting around lamenting about lack of action. Clearly doing nothing is equivalent to stagnation which wholly coincides with feeling drained and listless. Finally getting a handle on emotional troubles namely fear and guilt is essential to maintaining a good energy level. The effect of guilt and fear feelings on energy is widely recognized by all authorities having to do with the problems of human nature. The quantity of vital force required to give the personality relief from either guilt or fear or a combination of each is so great that often only a fraction of energy remains for the discharge of the functions of living. The author claims putting the consequences of ones actions in Gods hands are the key to breaking the energy-sapping bonds of guilt and fear. 4. Try Prayer PowerPrayer power is a manifestation of energy. Just as there exist scientific techniques for the release of atomic energy so are there scientific procedures for the release of spiritual energy through the mechanism of prayer. Exciting demonstrations of this energizing force are evident. Peale claims prayer power is the greatest power of all. It can guide the outcome of everything from decision making to the aging process. When deeply ingrained into ones subconscious prayer power can transform an individual emotionally physically and keep energy freely flowing. In terms of prayer techniques it is essential to keep things fresh. It is well to study prayer from an efficiency point of view. Usually the emphasis is entirely religious though no cleavage exists between the two concepts. Scientific spiritual practice rules out stereotyped procedure even as it does in general science...Get new insights; practice new skills to attain greatest results...Any method through which you can stimulate the power of God to flow into your mind is legitimate and usable. The author provides a prayer-power formula devised by a friend of his who uses it to overcome problems and attain success: Prayerize: practice a daily regimen of creative prayer communication with God in an effort to solve problems and make wise decisions. Not the kind of prayer that places God on a far-off lofty pedestal but rather acknowledges his close presence everywhere we go and in everything we do. Picturize: When failure or success is picturized it strongly tends to actualize in terms equivalent to the mental image pictured. To assure something worth while happening first pray about it and test it according to Gods will; then print a picture of it on your mind as happening holding the picture firmly in consciousness. Continue to surrender the picture to Gods willthat is to say put the matter in Gods handsand follow Gods guidance. Actualize: Creative prayer and picturing success and positivity results in actualresults in real life. I have personally practiced this three-point prayer method and find great power in it. It has been suggested to others who have likewise reported that it released creative power into their experience. Another powerful creative prayer method is called flash prayers. Developed by Frank Laubach in the book Prayer the Mightiest Power in the World it involves bombarding random people in public places with prayerful thoughts of love and good will. Here are 10 rules for yielding effective results via prayer: Set aside a few minutes every day to silently think about God in order to make the mind spiritually receptive. Pray orally with simple natural language telling God whatever is on your mind. Pray throughout the course of the workday in public places. At times close your eyes to block out the worlds distractions and briefly concentrate on Gods presence. Dont always make requests of God. Instead give thanks and confirm your belief that He will undoubtedly grant blessings. Pray with the belief that sincere prayers can reach out and surround your loved ones with Gods love and protection. Never use a negative thought in prayer. Only positive thoughts get results. Always be willing to adhere to Gods will. Ask for what you want but be willing to take what God gives you. It may be better than what you ask for. Become practiced at putting all happenings in Gods hands by seeking the ability to do your best but trusting the outcomes to God. Pray for people you do not like or who have mistreated you. Resentment is blockade number one of spiritual power. Create a list of people for whom you must pray. The more you pray for others the more positive results from praying will come back to you. 5. How to Create Your Own HappinessYou can be unhappy if you want to be. It is the easiest thing in the world to accomplish. Just choose unhappiness. Go around telling yourself that things arent going well that nothing is satisfactory and you can be quite sure of being unhappy. But say to yourself Things are going nicely. Life is good. I choose happiness and you can be quite certain of having your choice. It is crucial to stay in touch with the childlike truly happy spirit which God has endowed in each person from youth to adulthood. Children are very adept at happiness compared with adults and their example of how to appreciate the simple most purely real things in life that are most important to happiness should be closely emulated by the grown-up population. In other words never get old or dull or jaded in spirit. Dont become super-sophisticated. In spite of social conditions that undeniably hinder personal happiness through our thoughts and attitudes about what life throws our way we manufacture our own state of happiness or unhappiness. ...[A] very large proportion of the unhappiness of the average individual is self-manufactured. Some have the ability to take things as they come and not let relatively small things upset them while others create a bad mood at the drop of a hat. How foolish to manufacture personal unhappiness to add to all the other difficulties over which you have little or no control! Once again the negative feelings of resentment jealousy fear ill will and hate enter the mix as major obstacles to happiness. They block the minds attempt to feel at ease and focus on the positive things that foster happiness. In order to encourage a state of personal happiness despite lifes challenges and stresses people must develop what Peale calls the happiness habit. This simply means systematically thinking happy thoughts. As previously noted picturization comes into play here this time referencing images that inspire joy as the minds-eye mantra for practitioners to utilize. Do this every morning when you awake and see how your mood is shaped for the rest of the day. When you arise say out loud three times this on sentence This is the day that the Lord has made;...I will rejoice and be glad in it. This follows suit with the power of suggestion that words naturally have. Continually affirm to yourself that happiness abounds and that Gods loving power is the force through which this is possible. It is astonishing how people can become inoculated with happiness through an inner experience of spiritual change. 6. Stop Fuming and FrettingMany People make life unnecessarily difficult for themselves by dissipating power and energy through fuming and fretting. This chapter keys in on how to avoid letting anger get the best of us as well as how to avoid the childish act of fretting which Peale describes as being ...reminiscent of a sick child in the night a petulant half-cry half-whine. It ceases only to begin again. It has an irritating annoying penetrating quality. To fret is a childish term but it describes the emotional reaction of many adults. Peales first bit of advice is to slow down. That means stop rushing stop being both physically and emotionally impatient. The pace of modern life must be reduced if we are not to suffer profoundly from its debilitating over-stimulation and super-excitement. This over-stimulation produces toxic poisons in the body and creates emotional illness. City dwellers should nurture and appreciation for the natural quiet and peaceful sounds of natural settings. The tempo of the woods and other undeveloped areas reflect the essence of God and should garner dedicated attention from those seeking emotional and physical peace. Regular peaceful thoughts are Peales prescription for quelling fuming and fretting. Even during the busiest time of the day it is highly advisable to take time out to practice serenity. Attention to avoiding fuming and fretting has beneficial health implications. Being high-strung nervous and perpetually in a rush can lead to many physical and mental health problems. So getting in control of ones emotions are very important to maintaining ones overall good health. ...[T]he body responds sensitively to the type of thoughts that pass through the mind. It is also true that the mind can be quieted by first making the body quiet. That is to say a physical attitude can induce desired mental attitudes. Peale offers six points to practice in the interest of putting an end to fuming and fretting: Sit in a chair and relax your body from head to toe. State out loud that your toes fingers and facial muscles are indeed relaxed. Imagine your mind is just like the surface of a lake during a storm full of rough waves and tumult. But now the storm has passed and the lake surface is calm. Allow two or three minutes to picture the most beautiful serene scenes from nature that you have ever experienced and relive these scenes in your memory. Slowly deliberately repeat out loud words such as tranquility serenity and quietness. Make a mental list of times in your life when you have been conscious of Gods watchful care and recall how when you were worried and anxious He brought things out right and took care of you. Then recite aloud this line from an old hymn So long Thy power hath kept me sure it STILL will lead me on. Repeat the following as many times a day as possible: Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee. (Isaiah 26:3)...This is the best-known medicine for taking tension from the mind (Peale The Power of Positive Thinking). 7. & 8. Expect the Best and Get It & I Dont Believe in DefeatLearn to expect not to doubt. In so doing you bring everything into the realm of possibility. In reference to the quote above early on in the chapter Peale levies this disclaimer to guard against setting oneself up for disappointment if things dont turn out according to ones preconceived notions: This does not mean that by believing you are necessarily going to get everything you want or think you want. Perhaps that would not be good for you. When you put your trust in God He guides your mind so that you do not want things that are not good for you or that are inharmonious with Gods will. Faith in Gods infinite and creative will is the crux in expecting the best outcome and having it actually come to fruition. Start reading the New Testament and notice the number of times it refers to faith. Select a dozen of the strongest statements about faith the ones that you like the best. Then memorize each one. Let these faith concepts drop into your conscious mind. Say them over and over again especially just before going to sleep at night. Give your all to whatever you do in the professional realm dont hold back. Putting your whole hearts worth of drive and passion is the key to success. Failure unfortunately is borne of holding back of keeping a portion of the entirety of ones energy in reserve. As a wise teacher once told a struggling student: Throw your heart over the bar and your body will follow. The Gospel of Mark chapter 11 is a significant reference point for accentuating the positive through faith in Gods benevolence and wisdom. Chapter 8 focuses on developing a spirit that perseveres and doesnt easily give up when the going gets tough. Obstacles are part of life and for those not armed with a sound spiritual foundation they can cause people to lose self-confidence and sight of their true abilities. So the first thing to do about an obstacle is simply to stand up to it and not complain about it or whine under it but forthrightly attack it. Dont go crawling through life...half-defeated. Stand up to your obstacles and do something about them. You will find that they havent half the strength you think they have. Conditioning the subconscious to reflect positivity rather than negative self-doubt is the way to defeating defeatism. One means to this end is to eliminate little negatives such as insecure expressions of self-doubt from everyday conversation. These add up and amount to a subconscious outlook that sets individuals up for defeat. 9. How to Break the Worry HabitYou do not need to be a victim of worry. Reduced to its simplest form what is worry? It is simply an unhealthy and destructive mental habit. You were not born with the worry habit. You acquired it. And because you can change any habit and any acquired attitude you can cast worry from your mind. Aggressive direct action is essential to eliminating worry says Peale. Confronting fear is the only way to conquer it. Otherwise it unavoidably builds up and causes significant mental and physical health problems. Many respected accomplished psychiatrists and physicians have observed that worry accompanies a plethora of physical health problems. These sufferers have been unable to expel their anxieties which have turned inward on the personality causing many forms of ill-health. To eliminate worry and prevent build-up a person should empty his or her mind every day preferably at bedtime. Creative imagination is Peales technique for mind drainage. Conceive of yourself as actually emptying your mind of all anxiety and fear...Repeat the following affirmation during this visualization: With Gods help I am now emptying my mind of all anxiety all fear all sense of insecurity...So the process isempty the mind and cauterize it with Gods grace then practice filling your mind with faith and you will break the worry habit. Peale concludes Chapter 9 with a 10-point formula: Say to yourself: Worry is just a very bad mental habit. And I can change any habit with Gods help (Peale The Power of Positive Thinking). Start putting faith into action because just as worrying is ones own choice so is the antidote to it. Every morning say aloud I believe three times. Pray using this formula I place this day my life my loved ones my work in the Lords hands. There is no harm in the Lords hands only good. Whatever happens whatever results if I am in the Lords hands it is the Lords will and it is good. Speak positively especially about that which has been causing you to worry. Dont ever participate in a worry conversation with others. A group of people talking pessimistically can infect every person in the group with negativism. Because as a worrier your mind is full of negative thoughts to counter this you should mark every Bible passage ...that speaks of faith hope happiness glory radiance Develop friendships with positive hopeful people. Help other overcome worry. Every day of your life conceive of yourself as living in partnership and companionship with Jesus Christ...[S]ay to yourself He is with me. Affirm aloud I am with you always. Then change it to say He is with me now. Repeat that affirmation three times every day 10. Power to Solve Personal ProblemsPractice believing that God is as real and actual as your wife or your business partner or your closest friend. Practice talking matters over with Him; believe that he hears and gives thought to your problem. Assume that He impresses upon your mind through consciousness the proper ideas and insights necessary to solve your problems. Definitely believe that in these solutions there will be no error but that you will be guided to actions according to truth which results in right outcomes. Accepting Gods will as wholly positive and the right course of action is the most direct way to deal with ones personal troubles. A partnership with God allows humans to connect with the divine energy and wisdom that leads to successful problem solving. Peale strongly emphasizes his support for this spiritual technique aimed at fostering personal well-being and happiness in the long run. In addition to the method of two or three praying together in the surrender to God technique and that of establishing a partnership with God and the importance of a plan to tap and utilize emergency inner powers there is still another tremendous techniquethat of practicing faith attitudes. Faith attitudes is a term that refers to applying ones faith in God to the entire scope of their everyday life from basic morality to business decisions. Peale concludes this chapter with a 10-point list for solving problems: Believe every problem has a solution. Remain calm because tenseness prevents the flow of brain power. Dont try to force an answer. Keep your mind relaxed so that the solution will open up and become clear. Assemble all the facts impartially impersonally and judicially. Write a list of these facts which clarifies your thinking. Pray about your problem affirming that God will flash illumination into your mind. Believe in and seek Gods guidance on the promise of the 73rd Psalm Thou wilt guide me by thy counsel. Trust in the human abilities of insight and intuition. Attend church and allow your subconscious to work on the problem at hand as you tune into the spiritual mood of the worship service. Creative spiritual thinking has amazing power to give right answers. (Peale The Power of Positive Thinking). If you follow these steps faithfully then the answer that develops in your mind or comes to pass is the right answer to your problem. 11. & 12. How to Use Faith in Healing & When Vitality Sags Try This Health FormulaIs religious faith a factor in healing? Important evidence indicates that it is. There was a time in my own experience when I was not convinced of this but now I am and that very definitely. I have seen too many evidences to believe otherwise. Peale connects bodily health with a persons mental state which is greatly affected by ones level of faith-driven peace of mind. This chapter features many anecdotal cases where faith in God and the associated release of hate and fear significantly aided a sick person through the healing process. Peale also quotes many medical doctors who prescribe spirituality as a treatment for patients in need of guidance on how to live a healthy life. Present-day medicine emphasizes psychosomatic factors in healing thus recognizing the relationship of mental states to bodily health. Modern medical practice realizes and takes into consideration the close connection between how a man thinks and how he feels. Since religion deals with thought and feeling and basic attitudes it is only natural that the science of faith should be important in the healing process. Fear resentment hate guilt and feelings of inferiority again resurface in Peales discourse this time as the culprits that cause psychosomatic illnesses. A clearer understanding of our own emotions and returning to faith in God seem to create the combination that provides the best chance of permanent help to any of us with health issues. In all of the investigations I have made into successful cases of healing there seem to be certain factors present. First a complete willingness to surrender oneself into the hands of God. Second a complete letting go of all error such as sin in any form and a desire to be cleansed in the soul. Third belief and faith in that combined therapy of medical science in harmony with the healing power of God. Fourth a sincere willingness to accept Gods answer whatever it may be and no irritation or bitterness against His will. Fifth a substantial unquestioning faith that God can heal. Another list concludes Chapter 11 this one on how to constructively deal with an illness that you or a loved one suffers: ...[B]elieve that spiritual forces as well as medical technique are important to healing. Pray for the doctor. Do not become fearful because this will create negative destructive thoughts. God has arranged two remedies for all illness. One is healing through natural laws applicable by science and the other brings healing by spiritual law applicable through faith. Completely surrender your loved one into the hands of God...This is difficult to understand and equally difficult to perform but it is a fact that if the great desire for the loved one to live is matched with an equally great willingness to relinquish him to God healing powers are amazingly set in motion. Spiritual harmony must prevail within the family. Disharmony and disease are apparently kindred. Mentally picture your loved one as being perfectly healthy. Be perfectly natural. Ask God to heal your loved on. That is what you want with all your heart so ask Him please to do it but we suggest that you say PLEASE just once. Thereafter in your prayer thank Him for His goodness. This affirmative faith will help to release deep spiritual poer and also joy through reassurance of Gods loving care. This joy will sustain you and remember that joy itself possess healing power. It has been variously computed that from 50 to 75 per cent of present-day people are ill because of the influence of improper mental states on their emotional and physical make-up. Therefore [psychosomatic] medicine is of great importance. Many people who are below par will find that there is a health formula which in addition to the services of their physicians can be of great value to them. Checking ones anger is the most important way to prevent sagging vitality. Peale suggests painstakingly identifying then rooting out with prayer each minute aspect of life that causes anger or irritation. Targeting prayers to each of these bits of anger will promote physical health and energy in addition to emotional well-being. 13. Inflow of New Thoughts Can Remake YouIt has been said that thoughts are things that they actually possess dynamic power. Judged by the power they exercise one can readily accept such an appraisal. You can actually think yourself into or out of situations...Conditions are created by thoughts far more powerfully than conditions create thoughts. Peale revisits the concepts of Chapter 4 with further elaboration on how to pray your way to success and happiness in your professional and personal life. Its all about mental pictures of desired outcomes when seeking the Lords assistance...visualize prayerize and finally actualize (Peale The Power of Positive Thinking). The author stresses the need to change ones thinking in order to change present circumstances. People should seek to reduce the error within themselves and connect with an increased sense of truth. An inflow of new right health-laden thoughts through the mind creatively affects the circumstances of life for truth always produces right procedures and therefore right results (Peale The Power of Positive Thinking). A list of seven steps toward changing ones mentality from negative to positive attitudes concludes the chapter: For the next twenty-four hours deliberately speak hopefully about everything about your job about your health about your future. After doing this continue for an entire week. Then allow yourself to be realistic for a couple of days and you will see that this realism was actually pessimism and negativity. Today begin to shift your mindset from negativity to positivity. Start at the beginning of the New Testament and underscore every sentence about Faith.Continue until you have marked every such portion of the four gospels and take special note of Mark 11:2224. Memorize the underscored passages one each day until you can recite all of them from memory. Create a list of friends and determine who is the most positive thinker. Dont desert your negative pals but strengthen your bond with those who have a positive outlook. Then return to being among your negative friends and share your newfound positive point of view without gleaning their negativity. Avoid argument but whenever a negative attitude is expressed counter with a positive and optimistic opinion. Pray often and be sure to thank God for the blessings he has and will bestow upon you. God will not give you any greater blessing than you can believe in. He wants to give you great things but even He cannot make you take anything greater than you are equipped by faith to receive. 14. Relax for Easy PowerOne of the simplest methods for reducing tension is to practice the easy-does-it attitude. Do everything more slowly less hectically and without pressure. As in Chapter 6 Peale reasserts the need to slow down and live life at a more natural tempo. This will free the mind and spirit to be more receptive to that which is right for us and enable the mind to better achieve wisdom that will lead to better choices. Peale also revisits the connection between science and Christianity. In explaining why his church has staff psychiatrists the author states: Why psychiatrists on the staff of a church? The answer is that psychiatry is a science...Christianity may also be thought of as a science...[because] it is based upon a book which contains a system of techniques and formulas designed for the understanding and treatment of human nature. The laws are so precise and have been so often demonstrated when proper conditions of understanding belief and practice are applied that religion may be said to form an exact science (Peale The Power of Positive Thinking). Ten rules on how to work hard with ease and relax with easy power conclude Chapter 14: Dont overdo it and dont take yourself too seriously. Make it a point to enjoy your work. Plan your workwork your plan. Lack of system produces that Im swamped feeling. Dont try to do too many tasks at once. Get a correct mental attitude remembering that ease or difficulty in your work depends upon how you think about it. Work efficiently and know your job well. Practice relaxation. Dont force things take it all in stride. Dont procrastinate and allow job tasks to pile up. Keep your work on schedule. Pray about your work. You will get relaxed efficiency by so doing (Peale The Power of Positive Thinking). Make God your unseen partner. It is surprising the load He will take off you (Peale The Power of Positive Thinking). 15. How to Get People to Like YouTo be a master of popularity be artless. Strive deliberately after popularity and the chances are you will never attain it. But become one of those rare personalities about whom people say He certainly has something and you can be certain you are on the way to having people like you. While not everybody will like you due to the unfortunate often inexplicable fact of human nature that for whatever reason some people will never click there are techniques that can make you likable by most. This is essential because friendship and good relations with others are essential to remaining psychologically sound. The feeling of not being wanted or needed is one of the most devastating of all human reactions. Peale breaks it down simple: be easy-going as opposed to rigid and aloof and project a genuine love for other people with a propensity for boosting rather than deflating other peoples egos. Essentially getting people to like you is merely the other side of liking them. Peal gives us 10 rules toward attaining popularity: Remember names. Inefficiency at this point may indicate that your interest is not sufficiently outgoing. A mans name is very important to him. Be a comfortable easy-going person so there is no hassle involved with being with you. Acquire the quality of relaxed easy-goingness so that things do not ruffle you. Avoid egotism and coming off as a know-it-all. Be natural and normally humble. Cultivate the quality of being interesting so that people will want to be with you and get something of stimulating value from their association with you. Do an analysis of the unlikable aspects of your personality including those that may escape your consciousness. Wholeheartedly attempt to make right every misunderstanding you have or once had. Practice liking others until it becomes your genuine style of living. Never miss an opportunity to say a word of congratulation upon anyones achievement or express sympathy in sorrow or disappointment. Gain a deep-seated sense of spiritual experience so that youll be able to give strength to others. They in turn will give affection back to you. 16. Prescription for HeartacheThere is indeed a prescription for heartache. One element in the prescription is physical activity...Muscular activity utilizes another part of the brain and therefore shifts the strain and gives relief...Another profoundly creative element in the prescription for heartache is to gain a sound and satisfying philosophy of life and death and deathlessness. Whatever ails your emotions one of the first steps toward resolution is to remove yourself from whatever defeatist situation has formed around yourself and get back into the regular swing of things. Immerse yourself in worthwhile activities but avoid those that are superficial such as feverish partying or drinking. Dont try to suppress grief. There is a foolish point of view...that one should not show grief. that it is not proper to cry or express oneself through the natural mechanism of tears and sobbing. This is a denial of the law of nature...It is a relief mechanism provided in the body by Almighty God and should be used. With regard to the philosophy of life and death and deathlessness the author states that while such a philosophical handle on things wont repel the sorrow that is the natural extension of losing a loved one and physical separation it will remove and dispel grief. Peales deep faith in the infinite nature of God inspires his advice that a loved one who has passed away is not gone from us but rather has transcended earthly bounds and is one with God. Live on this faith and you will be at peace and the ache will leave your heart. Read and believe the Bible as it tells about the goodness of God and the immortality of the soul. Pray sincerely and with faith. Make prayer and faith the habit of your life. Learn to have real fellowship with God and with Jesus Christ. As you do this you will find a deep conviction welling up in your mind that these wonderful things are true indeed (Peale The Power of Positive Thinking). 17. How to Draw upon That Higher PowerThere is a Higher Power that can do everything for you. Draw upon it and experience its great helpfulness. Gods power is always unfailingly available to anyone who seeks it with an open heart. It is such a powerful force that its sudden arrival casts out all negativity replacing what pains you with strength health goodness and happiness. Peale uses several examples of how the Higher Power delivered individuals from the depths of alcoholism as an example of Gods infinite strength. I cite these experiences to show conclusively that if there is a Power able to deliver a person from alcoholism this same Power can help any other person to overcome any other form of defeat he may face. There is nothing more difficult to overcome than the problem of alcoholism. The success stories revealed in this chapter indicate ...that if there is deep desire intensity of longing and a sincere reaching out after the Power that it will be given. Faith positive thinking and prayer is the simple triumvirate people can utilize to deal effectively with what pains them. This is Peales recipe for a happy healthy life filled with good energy and lots of love and personal satisfaction. A world filled with people of this mind set is indeed a beautiful place to be. rest of this article click here:http://ift.tt/2zk9lsL Psychopaths Pirates Vampires and more: Run flee tell others! 300 topics on this listed below in the Cloud Archive: Click Here: Catalog of 100 Books Kindle Hypnosis Binaural Subliminal CDs age regressed behavior goals thoughts language art of the steal dick and jane little golden books Mad Magazine parody trump misogynist ultra age regression of 12 year old boy video youtube #trumpbully #stopbully #trumpmentalhealth http://bit.ly/2rZ1vSp

Little Golden Book A

[succorcreek]

Little Golden Book Art of the Steal, NSFW Fantasies

Well, it had been one of those personal delays: I'd put off reviewing Donald Trump's books on his life and business. But, I'm finally in them.....or since there is really nothing there but braggadocio, in the books and out quickly. Reception and legacy The reviews of the books, by professional writers: **boyish, see in the topic cloud below these 2 topics: **age regressed 12 year old "ultra regression" and **age regressed 17 year old teen goals, language and ideas ((15 articles related to this and included in all 13 books in the catalog tab above) **shows ignorance of his own life at the time of writing: repeated bankruptcies **greed demonstrated and personified **greed is the goal, it is good and is morally good in his world view **exaggerations and "alternative facts are good" **boasting, grandiose, self-focused, he feels he is better than others **superficial relationships: others are to be used or if not useful, ignored (marginalized) **one called it a "morality play", meaning that it was like a play about darkness, a lesson about immorality and not really anything moral or ethical

Donald Trump based much of this book on the Stolen material from Norman Vincent Peale's The Power of Positive Thinking. Trump's steps are:

    Think big

    Protect the downside and the upside will take care of itself

    Maximize your options

    Know your market

    Use your leverage

    Enhance your location

    Get the word out

    Fight back

    Deliver the goods

    Contain the costs

    Have fun

How many times we've heard: "I love them (fill in blank) so so much".

What is we borrowed our Little Golden Book fantasy and rewrote the Trump Art of the Steal in 21 points???

1. Revenge is perty fun. This is how I'd like to get back at some of my enemies, like McCain and Joe Biden

.

2. Women can aspire to become nurses, because they wear those cute outfit.

3. most people should have this in their home library

.

because, and it's really really bigly sad:

3. Make lots of jobs for others and tell the media you did it

4. Dang, another nurse pix. But, it shows I do so like the womenes.... 

4. Always tell the truth, the awful alternate truth

5. Don't let others steal your own thunder. Act now.

 5. Mind your own business and focus focus focus on your own work.

7. Use a big powerful and unabashed vocabulary. It'll make others think highly of you.

8. Meditate daily. Meditation is best without the noise of nature.

9. We're going to reduce the National Monuments and National Parks, plus sell off Alaska. It's such a fire hazard. Keep your kids out.

10. I like to use simple guidelines to select my staff, generals, consultants, and Supreme Court Nominees. I get my info from this entertaining book:

11. Wherever I go, I find cats and dogs. Don't like those dogs. But, pussies are every where. You can't love a pussy too much. If people in your past and Hillary accuse you of that, just tell them we have secret photos of them to release to the media soon. That'll make them shake in their boots. 

12. Be firm in what you do. Don't be a wet dish rag. 

 13. Tell them about your products and goods. They'll be impressed. They'll buy it.

14. Keep good notes on those who are helpful and those who are not.

15. Buy properties because it's a fun investment:

16. Choose your White Supremacy Racists buds well.

18. Indians, blech. Keep away cause they have small pox.

19. Be realistic with dreamers and 99% of the population. The truth counts.

20. Communicate well and all the time. Tell people they better support your plans or there could be harm.

21. Give your wife and kids a balance of affection. There is always the risk of too much love. I only give Baron one of these Facehugs once a week so he doesn't become dependent on me.

Here are the steps, as writen earlier by Norman Vincent Peale in The Power of Positive Thinking. This is helpful information, followed by millions. 1. Believe in Yourself It is appalling to realize the number of pathetic people who are hampered and made miserable by the malady popularly called the inferiority complex. But you need not suffer from this trouble. When proper steps are taken, it can be overcome. You can develop creative faith in yourself—faith that is justified. The combined use of holy mantras for immediate comfort and strength and psychological analysis to get to the bottom of why feelings of inferiority might plague us is Peale’s basic recipe for fostering self-confidence. He emphasizes that it is important to immerse one’s mind in spiritual thought and Bible scripture in order to push out negative thoughts that stem from a feeling of insecurity. Deep analysis of one’s psyche also must be done to pinpoint the root cause of an inferiority complex. “There are various causes of inferiority feelings, and not a few stem from childhood.” Peale offers his own personal example of inferiority feelings that plagued him throughout his youth. From his early years, he was insecure about being very thin, and conversely when he reached age 30, years of over-consumption caught up with him and resulted in a weight problem. “In the second place...I was a minister’s son and was constantly reminded of that fact,” Peale wrote. “Everybody else could do everything, but if I did even the slightest little thing—’Ah, you are a preacher’s son.’ So I didn’t want to be a preacher’s son, for preacher’s sons are supposed to be nice and namby-pamby. I wanted to be known as a hard-boiled fellow...I vowed there was one thing I would never do, and that was to become a preacher.” (Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking) He also developed a fear of public speaking because it was common practice by most of his family members, who forced Peal to do it despite his fear and insecurities. Faith techniques found in the Bible brought Peale out of his low-self-esteem doldrums. “The greatest secret for eliminating the inferiority complex...is to fill your mind to overflowing with faith. Develop a tremendous faith in God and that will give you a humble yet soundly realistic faith in yourself. The acquiring of dynamic faith is accomplished by prayer, lots of prayer, by reading and mentally absorbing the Bible and by practicing its faith techniques. (Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking) Deep, meaningful and powerful prayer techniques subvert feelings of inadequacy. “Surface skimming, formalistic and perfunctory prayer is not sufficiently powerful,” Peale wrote. The larger the problem that confronts a person, the deeper their level of prayer must be. “If your mind is obsessed by thoughts of insecurity and inadequacy it is, of course, due to the fact that such ideas have dominated your thinking over a long period of time. Another and more positive pattern of ideas must be given the mind, and that is accomplished by repetitive suggestion or confidence ideas...It is possible, even in the midst of your daily work, to drive confident thoughts into consciousness.” Peale provides 10 rules designed to assist people in vanquishing thoughts that hold them back from happiness and success and promote low self-esteem:

“Formulate and stamp indelibly on your mind a mental picture of yourself as succeeding.”

Immediately contest negative thoughts about one’s personal powers with a deliberately placed positive counterpoint.

“Do not build up obstacles in your imagination. Depreciate every so-called obstacle. Minimize them. Difficulties must be studied and efficiently dealt with to be eliminated, but they must be seen for only what they are. They must not be inflated by fear thoughts.”

Don’t let people who impress you cause you to be awestruck and inclined to copy them because the reality is they are likely just as subject to fear and insecurity as you are.

“Ten times a day repeat these dynamic words, ‘If God be for us who can be against us?’ (Romans 8:31).”

Connect with a competent psychological counselor to help you understand the reasons for your self-doubt because the cure for insecurity is knowledge of its causes that usually begin during childhood.

“Ten times each day practice the following affirmation, repeating it out loud if possible. ‘I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.’ (Philippians 4:13)...That magic statement is the most powerful antidote on earth to inferiority thoughts.”

Come up with an accurate estimation of your own ability, then increase it 10 percent. Avoid egotism, but be sure to develop a healthy sense of self-respect.

“Put yourself in God’s hands. To do that simply state, ‘I am in God’s hands.’ Then believe you are NOW receiving all the power you need. ‘Feel’ it flowing into you Affirm that ‘the kingdom of God is within you’ (Luke 17:21) in the form of adequate power to meet life’s demands.”

“Remind yourself that God is with you and nothing can defeat you. Believe that you now RECEIVE power from him” (Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking).

2. A Peaceful Mind Generates Power The Life of strain is difficult. The life of inner peace, being harmonious and without stress, is the easiest type of existence. The chief struggle then in gaining mental peace is the effort of revamping your thinking to the relaxed attitude of acceptance of God’s gift of peace. Peale outlines the technique of “emptying the mind,” which involves releasing “fears, hates, insecurities, regrets, and guilt feelings” (The Power of Positive Thinking). During a religious service on a voyage to Hawaii, Peale told attendees to drop their worries overboard and watch them disappear in the wake of the ship. Consciously letting go of negative thoughts inevitably brings relief. “At intervals during the day practice thinking a carefully selected series of peaceful thoughts. Let mental pictures of the most peaceful scenes you have ever witnessed pass across your mind, as, for example, some beautiful valley filled with the hush of evening time, as the shadows lengthen and the sun sinks to waters, or emember the sea washing gently upon soft shores of sand. Such peaceful thought images will work upon your mind as a healing medicine.” (Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking) Peale also suggests a technique called “suggestive articulation.” Audibly repeat words that carry peaceful connotation. “Words have profound suggestive power, and there is healing in the very saying of them.” He suggests using words as “tranquillity” and “serenity” and to say them slowly and repetitively. Lines of poetry or Scripture passages have the same effect. Conversation speech is another conscious way to put the mind at ease. “By our speech we can...achieve quiet reactions. Talk peaceful to be peaceful.” Eliminating negative ideas from conversations will prevent them from producing inner tension. Although, there is an appropriate time and place for confronting negative subjects, in general “...to have peace of mind, fill your personal and group conversations with positive, happy, optimistic, satisfying expressions.” The daily practice of silence is yet another path toward having a peaceful mind. “Everyone should insist upon not less than a quarter of an hour of absolute quiet every twenty-four hours. Go alone into the quietest place available to you and sit or lie down for fifteen minutes and practice the art of silence. Do not talk to anyone. Do not write. Do not read. Think as little as possible. Throw your mind into neutral...When you have attained a quiescent state, then begin to listen for the deeper sounds of harmony and beauty and of God that are to be found in the essence of silence.” These techniques require steady practice and are not easy to instantly conjure into workable fruition for those who are novice to such meditation and conscious control of their conversational speech. Peale also observes that there are self-imposed obstacles to inner peace in the form of haunting guilt. “...[T]here is a curious quirk within the human mind whereby sometimes an individual will not forgive himself...Peace of mind under such circumstances is available by yielding the guilt as well as the tension it produces to the healing therapy of Christ.” 3. How to Have Constant Energy How we think we feel has a definite effect on how we actually feel physically. If your mind tells you that you are tired, the body mechanism, the nerves, and the muscles accept the fact. If your mind is intensely interested, you can keep on at an activity indefinitely. Religion functions through our thoughts, in fact, it is a system of thought discipline. By supplying attitudes of faith to the mind it can increase energy. It helps you to accomplish prodigious activity by suggesting that you have ample support and resources of power. “God is the source of all energy—energy in the universe, atomic energy, electrical energy, and spiritual energy; indeed every form of energy derives from the Creator.” So, tapping the infinite power and energy of the Almighty is the best means humans can utilize toward keeping themselves properly energized. “When in spiritual contact with God through our thought processes, the Divine energy flows through the personality, automatically renewing the original creative act. When contact with the Divine energy is broken, the personality gradually becomes depleted from the body, mind, and spirit.” On the physical level, maintaining a constantly rejuvenating energy supply requires a person is in tune with nature and their emotional stability. Stress, angst, and negativity all hamper this rejuvenation. This can lead to a feeling of being overwhelmed by one’s workload or daily responsibilities. “It is fear, resentment, the projection of parental faults upon people when they are children, inner conflicts and obsessions that throw off balance the finely equated nature, thus causing expenditure of natural force.” The fast pace and chaotic habits of the modern age have a disastrous effect on emotional stability and thus one’s energy level. Synchronicity with the natural tempo of God’s creation is the key to filtering out the distractions of overly fast modernity. Peal advice: lie down on the ground on a warm day and listen to the natural sounds of the earth. “Get your ear close down to the ground and listen. You will hear all manner of sounds. You will hear the sound of the wind in the trees and the murmur of insects, and you will discover presently that there is in all these sounds a well-regulated tempo.” This divine tempo is present in the word of God and hymns sung in church, and we can also find it in factory if so inclined to look for it. The trick is to feel your way into the rhythm of God and all his creations, including machines and tools that mankind has devised. “To accomplish this, relax physically. Then conceive of your mind as likewise relaxing. Follow this mentally by visualizing the soul as becoming quiescent, then pray as follows: ‘Dear God, You are the source of all energy. You are the source of the energy in the sun, in the atom, in all flesh, in the bloodstream, in the mind. I hereby draw energy from You as from an illimitable source.’ Then practice believing that you receive energy. Keep in tune with the Infinite.” (Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking) Boredom, as well as monotonous daily responsibilities, are other major causes energy depletion. It is important to develop interests that inspire us and make us passionate about life. This excitement and stimulation breeds energy, as opposed to sitting around lamenting about lack of action. Clearly doing nothing is equivalent to stagnation, which wholly coincides with feeling drained and listless. Finally, getting a handle on emotional troubles, namely fear and guilt, is essential to maintaining a good energy level. “The effect of guilt and fear feelings on energy is widely recognized by all authorities having to do with the problems of human nature. The quantity of vital force required to give the personality relief from either guilt or fear or a combination of each is so great that often only a fraction of energy remains for the discharge of the functions of living.” The author claims putting the consequences of one’s actions in God’s hands are the key to breaking the energy-sapping bonds of guilt and fear. 4. Try Prayer Power Prayer power is a manifestation of energy. Just as there exist scientific techniques for the release of atomic energy, so are there scientific procedures for the release of spiritual energy through the mechanism of prayer. Exciting demonstrations of this energizing force are evident. Peale claims prayer power is the greatest power of all. It can guide the outcome of everything from decision making to the aging process. When deeply ingrained into one’s subconscious, prayer power can transform an individual emotionally, physically, and keep energy freely flowing. In terms of prayer techniques, it is essential to keep things fresh. “It is well to study prayer from an efficiency point of view. Usually the emphasis is entirely religious though no cleavage exists between the two concepts. Scientific spiritual practice rules out stereotyped procedure even as it does in general science...Get new insights; practice new skills to attain greatest results...Any method through which you can stimulate the power of God to flow into your mind is legitimate and usable.” The author provides a prayer-power formula devised by a friend of his who uses it to overcome problems and attain success:

Prayerize: practice a daily regimen of creative prayer, communication with God in an effort to solve problems and make wise decisions. Not the kind of prayer that places God on a far-off, lofty pedestal, but rather acknowledges his close presence everywhere we go and in everything we do.

Picturize: “When failure or success is picturized it strongly tends to actualize in terms equivalent to the mental image pictured. To assure something worth while happening, first pray about it and test it according to God’s will; then print a picture of it on your mind as happening, holding the picture firmly in consciousness. Continue to surrender the picture to God’s will—that is to say, put the matter in God’s hands—and follow God’s guidance.”

Actualize: Creative prayer and picturing success and positivity results in actual results in real life. “I have personally practiced this three-point prayer method and find great power in it. It has been suggested to others who have likewise reported that it released creative power into their experience.”

Another powerful, creative prayer method is called “flash prayers.” Developed by Frank Laubach in the book Prayer, the Mightiest Power in the World, it involves bombarding random people in public places with prayerful thoughts of love and good will. Here are 10 rules for yielding effective results via prayer:

Set aside a few minutes every day to silently think about God in order to make the mind spiritually receptive.

Pray orally with simple, natural language, telling God whatever is on your mind.

Pray throughout the course of the workday in public places. At times close your eyes to block out the world’s distractions and briefly concentrate on God’s presence.

Don’t always make requests of God. Instead, give thanks and confirm your belief that He will undoubtedly grant blessings.

“Pray with the belief that sincere prayers can reach out and surround your loved ones with God’s love and protection.”

“Never use a negative thought in prayer. Only positive thoughts get results.”

Always be willing to adhere to God’s will. “Ask for what you want, but be willing to take what God gives you. It may be better than what you ask for.”

Become practiced at putting all happenings in God’s hands by seeking the ability to do your best but trusting the outcomes to God.

“Pray for people you do not like or who have mistreated you. Resentment is blockade number one of spiritual power.”

Create a list of people for whom you must pray. The more you pray for others, the more positive results from praying will come back to you.

5. How to Create Your Own Happiness You can be unhappy if you want to be. It is the easiest thing in the world to accomplish. Just choose unhappiness. Go around telling yourself that things aren’t going well, that nothing is satisfactory, and you can be quite sure of being unhappy. But say to yourself, “Things are going nicely. Life is good. I choose happiness,” and you can be quite certain of having your choice. It is crucial to stay in touch with the childlike, truly happy spirit which God has endowed in each person from youth to adulthood. Children are very adept at happiness compared with adults, and their example of how to appreciate the simple, most purely real things in life that are most important to happiness should be closely emulated by the grown-up population. “In other words, never get old or dull or jaded in spirit. Don’t become super-sophisticated.” In spite of social conditions that undeniably hinder personal happiness, through our thoughts and attitudes about what life throws our way we manufacture our own state of happiness or unhappiness. “...[A] very large proportion of the unhappiness of the average individual is self-manufactured.” Some have the ability to take things as they come and not let relatively small things upset them, while others create a bad mood at the drop of a hat. “How foolish to manufacture personal unhappiness to add to all the other difficulties over which you have little or no control!” Once again, the negative feelings of resentment, jealousy, fear, ill will, and hate enter the mix as major obstacles to happiness. They block the mind’s attempt to feel at ease and focus on the positive things that foster happiness. In order to encourage a state of personal happiness despite life’s challenges and stresses, people must develop what Peale calls the “happiness habit.” This simply means systematically thinking happy thoughts. As previously noted, picturization comes into play here, this time referencing images that inspire joy as the mind’s-eye mantra for practitioners to utilize. Do this every morning when you awake and see how your mood is shaped for the rest of the day. “When you arise, say out loud three times this on sentence, ‘This is the day that the Lord has made;...I will rejoice and be glad in it.’” This follows suit with the power of suggestion that words naturally have. Continually affirm to yourself that happiness abounds and that God’s loving power is the force through which this is possible. “It is astonishing how people can become inoculated with happiness through an inner experience of spiritual change.” 6. Stop Fuming and Fretting Many People make life unnecessarily difficult for themselves by dissipating power and energy through fuming and fretting. This chapter keys in on how to avoid letting anger get the best of us as well as how to avoid the childish act of “fretting,” which Peale describes as being “...reminiscent of a sick child in the night, a petulant half-cry, half-whine. It ceases, only to begin again. It has an irritating, annoying, penetrating quality. To fret is a childish term, but it describes the emotional reaction of many adults.” Peale’s first bit of advice is to slow down. That means stop rushing, stop being both physically and emotionally impatient. “The pace of modern life must be reduced if we are not to suffer profoundly from its debilitating over-stimulation and super-excitement. This over-stimulation produces toxic poisons in the body and creates emotional illness.” City dwellers should nurture and appreciation for the natural quiet and peaceful sounds of natural settings. The tempo of the woods and other undeveloped areas reflect the essence of God and should garner dedicated attention from those seeking emotional and physical peace. Regular peaceful thoughts are Peale’s prescription for quelling fuming and fretting. Even during the busiest time of the day, it is highly advisable to take time out to practice serenity. Attention to avoiding fuming and fretting has beneficial health implications. Being high-strung, nervous, and perpetually in a rush can lead to many physical and mental health problems. So getting in control of one’s emotions are very important to maintaining one’s overall good health. “...[T]he body responds sensitively to the type of thoughts that pass through the mind. It is also true that the mind can be quieted by first making the body quiet. That is to say, a physical attitude can induce desired mental attitudes.” Peale offers six points to practice in the interest of putting an end to fuming and fretting:

Sit in a chair and relax your body from head to toe. State out loud that your toes, fingers, and facial muscles are indeed relaxed.

Imagine your mind is just like the surface of a lake during a storm, full of rough waves and tumult. But now the storm has passed and the lake surface is calm.

Allow two or three minutes to picture the most beautiful, serene scenes from nature that you have ever experienced and relive these scenes in your memory.

Slowly, deliberately repeat out loud words such as “tranquility,” “serenity,” and “quietness.”

“Make a mental list of times in your life when you have been conscious of God’s watchful care and recall how, when you were worried and anxious, He brought things out right and took care of you. Then recite aloud this line from an old hymn, ‘So long Thy power hath kept me, sure it STILL will lead me on.’”

Repeat the following as many times a day as possible: “‘Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee.’ (Isaiah 26:3)...This is the best-known medicine for taking tension from the mind” (Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking).

7. & 8. Expect the Best and Get It & I Don’t Believe in Defeat Learn to expect, not to doubt. In so doing you bring everything into the realm of possibility. In reference to the quote above, early on in the chapter Peale levies this disclaimer to guard against setting oneself up for disappointment if things don’t turn out according to one’s preconceived notions: “This does not mean that by believing you are necessarily going to get everything you want or think you want. Perhaps that would not be good for you. When you put your trust in God, He guides your mind so that you do not want things that are not good for you or that are inharmonious with God’s will.” Faith in God’s infinite and creative will is the crux in expecting the best outcome and having it actually come to fruition. “Start reading the New Testament and notice the number of times it refers to faith. Select a dozen of the strongest statements about faith, the ones that you like the best. Then memorize each one. Let these faith concepts drop into your conscious mind. Say them over and over again, especially just before going to sleep at night.” Give your all to whatever you do in the professional realm, don’t hold back. Putting your whole heart’s worth of drive and passion is the key to success. Failure, unfortunately, is borne of holding back, of keeping a portion of the entirety of one’s energy in reserve. As a wise teacher once told a struggling student: “‘Throw your heart over the bar and your body will follow.’” The Gospel of Mark, chapter 11 is a significant reference point for accentuating the positive through faith in God’s benevolence and wisdom. Chapter 8 focuses on developing a spirit that perseveres and doesn’t easily give up when the going gets tough. Obstacles are part of life, and for those not armed with a sound spiritual foundation they can cause people to lose self-confidence and sight of their true abilities. “So the first thing to do about an obstacle is simply to stand up to it and not complain about it or whine under it but forthrightly attack it. Don’t go crawling through life...half-defeated. Stand up to your obstacles and do something about them. You will find that they haven’t half the strength you think they have.” Conditioning the subconscious to reflect positivity rather than negative self-doubt is the way to defeating defeatism. One means to this end is to eliminate “little negatives” such as insecure expressions of self-doubt from everyday conversation. These add up and amount to a subconscious outlook that sets individuals up for defeat. 9. How to Break the Worry Habit You do not need to be a victim of worry. Reduced to its simplest form, what is worry? It is simply an unhealthy and destructive mental habit. You were not born with the worry habit. You acquired it. And because you can change any habit and any acquired attitude, you can cast worry from your mind. “Aggressive, direct action is essential” to eliminating worry, says Peale. Confronting fear is the only way to conquer it. Otherwise, it unavoidably builds up and causes significant mental and physical health problems. Many respected, accomplished psychiatrists and physicians have observed that worry accompanies a plethora of physical health problems. “These sufferers have been unable to expel their anxieties which have turned inward on the personality, causing many forms of ill-health.” To eliminate worry and prevent build-up, a person should empty his or her mind every day, preferably at bedtime. “Creative imagination” is Peale’s technique for mind drainage. “Conceive of yourself as actually emptying your mind of all anxiety and fear...Repeat the following affirmation during this visualization: ‘With God’s help I am now emptying my mind of all anxiety, all fear, all sense of insecurity’...So the process is—empty the mind and cauterize it with God’s grace, then practice filling your mind with faith and you will break the worry habit.” Peale concludes Chapter 9 with a 10-point formula:

“Say to yourself: ‘Worry is just a very bad mental habit. And I can change any habit with God’s help’” (Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking).

Start putting faith into action because just as worrying is one’s own choice, so is the antidote to it.

Every morning say aloud “I believe” three times.

“Pray, using this formula, ‘I place this day, my life, my loved ones, my work in the Lord’s hands. There is no harm in the Lord’s hands, only good. Whatever happens, whatever results, if I am in the Lord’s hands it is the Lord’s will and it is good.’”

Speak positively, especially about that which has been causing you to worry.

Don’t ever participate in a worry conversation with others. “A group of people talking pessimistically can infect every person in the group with negativism.”

Because as a worrier your mind is full of negative thoughts, to counter this you should mark every Bible passage “...that speaks of faith, hope, happiness, glory, radiance”

Develop friendships with positive, hopeful people.

Help other overcome worry.

“Every day of your life conceive of yourself as living in partnership and companionship with Jesus Christ...[S]ay to yourself, ‘He is with me.’ Affirm aloud ‘I am with you always.’ Then change it to say, ‘He is with me now.’ Repeat that affirmation three times every day”

10. Power to Solve Personal Problems Practice believing that God is as real and actual as your wife, or your business partner, or your closest friend. Practice talking matters over with Him; believe that he hears and gives thought to your problem. Assume that He impresses upon your mind through consciousness the proper ideas and insights necessary to solve your problems. Definitely believe that in these solutions there will be no error, but that you will be guided to actions according to truth which results in right outcomes.  Accepting God’s will as wholly positive and the right course of action is the most direct way to deal with one’s personal troubles. A partnership with God allows humans to connect with the divine energy and wisdom that leads to successful problem solving. Peale strongly emphasizes his support for this spiritual technique aimed at fostering personal well-being and happiness in the long run. “In addition to the method of two or three praying together in the ‘surrender to God’ technique and that of establishing a partnership with God and the importance of a plan to tap and utilize emergency inner powers, there is still another tremendous technique—that of practicing faith attitudes.” “Faith attitudes” is a term that refers to applying one’s faith in God to the entire scope of their everyday life, from basic morality to business decisions. Peale concludes this chapter with a 10-point list for solving problems:

Believe every problem has a solution.

Remain calm because tenseness prevents the flow of brain power.

“Don’t try to force an answer. Keep your mind relaxed so that the solution will open up and become clear.”

“Assemble all the facts impartially, impersonally, and judicially.”

Write a list of these facts, which clarifies your thinking.

“Pray about your problem, affirming that God will flash illumination into your mind.”

“Believe in and seek God’s guidance on the promise of the 73rd Psalm, ‘Thou wilt guide me by thy counsel.’”

Trust in the human abilities of insight and intuition.

Attend church and allow your subconscious to work on the problem at hand as you tune into the spiritual mood of the worship service. “Creative spiritual thinking has amazing power to give ‘right’ answers.” (Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking).

“If you follow these steps faithfully, then the answer that develops in your mind, or comes to pass, is the right answer to your problem.”

11. & 12. How to Use Faith in Healing & When Vitality Sags, Try This Health Formula Is religious faith a factor in healing? Important evidence indicates that it is. There was a time in my own experience when I was not convinced of this, but now I am, and that very definitely. I have seen too many evidences to believe otherwise. Peale connects bodily health with a person’s mental state, which is greatly affected by one’s level of faith-driven peace of mind. This chapter features many anecdotal cases where faith in God and the associated release of hate and fear significantly aided a sick person through the healing process. Peale also quotes many medical doctors who prescribe spirituality as a treatment for patients in need of guidance on how to live a healthy life. “Present-day medicine emphasizes psychosomatic factors in healing, thus recognizing the relationship of mental states to bodily health. Modern medical practice realizes and takes into consideration the close connection between how a man thinks and how he feels. Since religion deals with thought and feeling and basic attitudes, it is only natural that the science of faith should be important in the healing process.” Fear, resentment, hate, guilt, and feelings of inferiority again resurface in Peale’s discourse, this time as the culprits that cause psychosomatic illnesses. A clearer understanding of our own emotions and returning to faith in God seem to create the combination that provides the best chance of permanent help to any of us with health issues. “In all of the investigations I have made into successful cases of healing, there seem to be certain factors present. First, a complete willingness to surrender oneself into the hands of God. Second, a complete letting go of all error such as sin in any form and a desire to be cleansed in the soul. Third, belief and faith in that combined therapy of medical science in harmony with the healing power of God. Fourth, a sincere willingness to accept God’s answer, whatever it may be, and no irritation or bitterness against His will. Fifth, a substantial, unquestioning faith that God can heal.” Another list concludes Chapter 11, this one on how to constructively deal with an illness that you or a loved one suffers:

“...[B]elieve that spiritual forces as well as medical technique are important to healing.”

“Pray for the doctor.”

Do not become fearful because this will create negative, destructive thoughts.

“God has arranged two remedies for all illness. One is healing through natural laws applicable by science, and the other brings healing by spiritual law applicable through faith.”

“Completely surrender your loved one into the hands of God...This is difficult to understand and equally difficult to perform, but it is a fact that if the great desire for the loved one to live is matched with an equally great willingness to relinquish him to God, healing powers are amazingly set in motion.”

Spiritual harmony must prevail within the family. Disharmony and disease are apparently kindred.

Mentally picture your loved one as being perfectly healthy.

“Be perfectly natural. Ask God to heal your loved on. That is what you want with all your heart, so ask Him please to do it, but we suggest that you say PLEASE just once. Thereafter in your prayer thank Him for His goodness. This affirmative faith will help to release deep spiritual poer and also joy through reassurance of God’s loving care. This joy will sustain you, and remember that joy itself possess healing power.”

“It has been variously computed that from 50 to 75 per cent of present-day people are ill because of the influence of improper mental states on their emotional and physical make-up. Therefore [psychosomatic] medicine is of great importance. Many people who are below par will find that there is a health formula which, in addition to the services of their physicians, can be of great value to them.” Checking one’s anger is the most important way to prevent sagging vitality. Peale suggests painstakingly identifying, then rooting out with prayer each minute aspect of life that causes anger or irritation. Targeting prayers to each of these bits of anger will promote physical health and energy in addition to emotional well-being. 13. Inflow of New Thoughts Can Remake You It has been said that thoughts are things, that they actually possess dynamic power. Judged by the power they exercise one can readily accept such an appraisal. You can actually think yourself into or out of situations...Conditions are created by thoughts far more powerfully than conditions create thoughts. Peale revisits the concepts of Chapter 4 with further elaboration on how to pray your way to success and happiness in your professional and personal life. It’s all about mental pictures of desired outcomes when seeking the Lord’s assistance—”...visualize, prayerize, and finally actualize” (Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking). The author stresses the need to change one’s thinking in order to change present circumstances. People should seek to reduce the error within themselves and connect with an increased sense of truth. “An inflow of new, right, health-laden thoughts through the mind creatively affects the circumstances of life, for truth always produces right procedures and therefore right results” (Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking). A list of seven steps toward changing one’s mentality from negative to positive attitudes concludes the chapter:

“For the next twenty-four hours, deliberately speak hopefully about everything, about your job, about your health, about your future.”

After doing this, continue for an entire week. Then allow yourself to be “realistic” for a couple of days, and you will see that this realism was actually pessimism and negativity.

Today begin to shift your mindset from negativity to positivity. “Start at the beginning of the New Testament and underscore every sentence about Faith.” Continue until you have marked every such portion of the four gospels, and take special note of Mark 11:22–24.

Memorize the underscored passages, one each day until you can recite all of them from memory.

Create a list of friends and determine who is the most positive thinker. Don’t desert your negative pals, but strengthen your bond with those who have a positive outlook. Then return to being among your negative friends and share your newfound positive point of view without gleaning their negativity.

“Avoid argument, but whenever a negative attitude is expressed, counter with a positive and optimistic opinion.”

Pray often and be sure to thank God for the blessings he has and will bestow upon you. “God will not give you any greater blessing than you can believe in. He wants to give you great things, but even He cannot make you take anything greater than you are equipped by faith to receive.”

14. Relax for Easy Power One of the simplest methods for reducing tension is to practice the easy-does-it attitude. Do everything more slowly, less hectically, and without pressure. As in Chapter 6, Peale reasserts the need to slow down and live life at a more natural tempo. This will free the mind and spirit to be more receptive to that which is right for us, and enable the mind to better achieve wisdom that will lead to better choices. Peale also revisits the connection between science and Christianity. In explaining why his church has staff psychiatrists, the author states: “Why psychiatrists on the staff of a church? The answer is that psychiatry is a science...Christianity may also be thought of as a science...[because] it is based upon a book which contains a system of techniques and formulas designed for the understanding and treatment of human nature. The laws are so precise and have been so often demonstrated when proper conditions of understanding, belief, and practice are applied that religion may be said to form an exact science” (Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking). Ten rules on how to work hard with ease and relax with easy power conclude Chapter 14:

Don’t overdo it, and don’t take yourself too seriously.

Make it a point to enjoy your work.

“Plan your work—work your plan. Lack of system produces that ‘I’m swamped’ feeling.”

Don’t try to do too many tasks at once.

“Get a correct mental attitude, remembering that ease or difficulty in your work depends upon how you think about it.”

Work efficiently and know your job well.

Practice relaxation. Don’t force things, take it all in stride.

Don’t procrastinate and allow job tasks to pile up. Keep your work on schedule.

“Pray about your work. You will get relaxed efficiency by so doing” (Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking).

Make God your “‘unseen partner.’ It is surprising the load He will take off you” (Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking).

15. How to Get People to Like You To be a master of popularity, be artless. Strive deliberately after popularity and the chances are you will never attain it. But become one of those rare personalities about whom people say, ‘He certainly has something,’ and you can be certain you are on the way to having people like you. While not everybody will like you due to the unfortunate, often inexplicable fact of human nature that for whatever reason some people will never “click,” there are techniques that can make you likable by most. This is essential because friendship and good relations with others are essential to remaining psychologically sound. “The feeling of not being wanted or needed is one of the most devastating of all human reactions.” Peale breaks it down simple: be easy-going as opposed to rigid and aloof, and project a genuine love for other people with a propensity for boosting, rather than deflating, other people’s egos. “Essentially, getting people to like you is merely the other side of liking them.” Peal gives us 10 rules toward attaining popularity:

Remember names. “Inefficiency at this point may indicate that your interest is not sufficiently outgoing. A man’s name is very important to him.”

Be a comfortable, easy-going person so there is no hassle involved with being with you.

“Acquire the quality of relaxed easy-goingness so that things do not ruffle you.”

Avoid egotism and coming off as a know-it-all. “Be natural and normally humble.”

“Cultivate the quality of being interesting so that people will want to be with you and get something of stimulating value from their association with you.”

Do an analysis of the unlikable aspects of your personality including those that may escape your consciousness.

Wholeheartedly attempt to make right every misunderstanding you have or once had.

Practice liking others until it becomes your genuine style of living.

“Never miss an opportunity to say a word of congratulation upon anyone’s achievement, or express sympathy in sorrow or disappointment.”

Gain a deep-seated sense of spiritual experience so that you‘ll be able to give strength to others. They, in turn, will give affection back to you.

16. Prescription for Heartache There is indeed a “prescription” for heartache. One element in the prescription is physical activity...Muscular activity utilizes another part of the brain and therefore shifts the strain and gives relief...Another profoundly creative element in the prescription for heartache is to gain a sound and satisfying philosophy of life and death and deathlessness. Whatever ails your emotions, one of the first steps toward resolution is to remove yourself from whatever “defeatist situation” has formed around yourself and get back into the regular swing of things. Immerse yourself in worthwhile activities but avoid those that are superficial such as feverish partying or drinking. Don’t try to suppress grief. “There is a foolish point of view...that one should not show grief. that it is not proper to cry or express oneself through the natural mechanism of tears and sobbing. This is a denial of the law of nature...It is a relief mechanism provided in the body by Almighty God and should be used.” With regard to the “philosophy of life and death and deathlessness,” the author states that while such a philosophical handle on things won’t repel the sorrow that is the natural extension of losing a loved one and physical separation, it will remove and dispel grief. Peale’s deep faith in the infinite nature of God inspires his advice that a loved one who has passed away is not gone from us, but rather has transcended earthly bounds and is one with God. “Live on this faith and you will be at peace and the ache will leave your heart.” “Read and believe the Bible as it tells about the goodness of God and the immortality of the soul. Pray sincerely and with faith. Make prayer and faith the habit of your life. Learn to have real fellowship with God and with Jesus Christ. As you do this you will find a deep conviction welling up in your mind that these wonderful things are true indeed” (Peale, The Power of Positive Thinking). 17. How to Draw upon That Higher Power There is a Higher Power that can do everything for you. Draw upon it and experience its great helpfulness. God’s power is always, unfailingly available to anyone who seeks it with an open heart. It is such a powerful force that its sudden arrival casts out all negativity, replacing what pains you with strength, health, goodness, and happiness. Peale uses several examples of how the Higher Power delivered individuals from the depths of alcoholism as an example of God’s infinite strength. “I cite these experiences to show conclusively that if there is a Power able to deliver a person from alcoholism, this same Power can help any other person to overcome any other form of defeat he may face. There is nothing more difficult to overcome than the problem of alcoholism.” The success stories revealed in this chapter indicate “...that if there is deep desire, intensity of longing, and a sincere reaching out after the Power that it will be given.” Faith, positive thinking, and prayer is the simple triumvirate people can utilize to deal effectively with what pains them. This is Peale’s recipe for a happy, healthy life filled with good energy and lots of love and personal satisfaction. A world filled with people of this mind set is indeed a beautiful place to be. rest of this article, click here: http://ift.tt/2zk9lsL Psychopaths, Pirates, Vampires, and more:

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