advantages of living in an island

The Depths of Hell… 

“Azkaban was originally home to a sorcerer who called himself Ekrizdis. 

Ekrizdis, who is believed to have been insane, was a practitioner of the worst kinds of Dark Arts. 

Alone in the middle of the ocean, he lured, tortured and killed Muggle sailors, apparently for pleasure, and only when he died, and the concealment charms he had cast faded away, did the Ministry of Magic realize that either island or building existed. 

Those who entered to investigate refused afterwards to talk of what they had found inside, but the least frightening part of it was that the place was infested with Dementors.

Sadistic by nature, Rowle, an authoritarian who had risen to power on an anti-Muggle agenda, insisted on using Azkaban as a prison. He claimed that the Dementors living there were an advantage: they could be harnessed as guards, saving the Ministry time, trouble and expense.

In spite of opposition from many wizards, Rowle carried out his plan and soon a steady trickle of prisoners had been placed there. None ever emerged.

By the time that Eldritch Diggory took over as Minister for Magic, the prison had been operating for fifteen years. There had been no breakouts and no breaches of security. The new prison seemed to be working well. 

It was only when Diggory went to visit that he realised exactly what conditions inside were like. Prisoners were mostly insane and a graveyard had been established to accommodate those that died of despair.

Diggory had been so horrified by what he had seen inside Azkaban that he pressed the committee to find alternatives. Experts explained to him that the only reason the Dementors were (mostly) confined to the island was that they were being provided with a constant supply of souls on which to feed. If deprived of prisoners, they were likely to abandon the prison and head for the mainland.

From that time until the advent of Kingsley Shacklebolt, no Minister ever seriously considered closing Azkaban. They turned a blind eye to the inhumane conditions inside the fortress.

Nearly three centuries passed before that record was broken. A young man was successfully smuggled out of the prison when his visiting mother exchanged places with him, something that the blind and loveless Dementors could not detect and would have never expected.

This escape was followed by another, still more ingenious and impressive, when Sirius Black managed to evade the Dementors… single-handed.

- Pottermore

this is Le Mont Saint Michel, in Normandie, France. it’s also where Beauxbatons Academy of Magic is located. and listen i KNOW Beauxbatons is supposed to be in the Pyrenees but it’s only rumored to be so i will take this hc to the grave

ok now that this is out of the way hear me out 

this is le mont saint michel, and depending on the tide it’s either an island or accessible by foot

the witches arrived in 1265 and never left because come on, even the location screams magic it would be a shame not to take advantage of it. even the wizarding world has aesthetic needs to fulfill.

there are some muggles on the island, but most of them have been there forever and their parents before them, and having lived through WW2 and the invention of television,  they can think of weirder things than magic. Also they have other shit to do than go and tell everyone about beauxbatons and plus they quite like those wizards, they’re polite and make delicious drinks so everyone is happy to mind their own business. 

and this pals, is Beauxbatons Academy of Magic : 

the architecture is famous all over the world and has therefore attracted many tourists over the years so the academy has decided to open some parts of the castle to the public. 

but do not worry they’ve thought this through! a powerful glamour has been cast over the whole place for it to look to the muggles like they’re visiting an abbey. 

for example, this is a muggle photo of a statue of Nicolas Flamel, famous alumnus of Beauxbatons Academy. 

and if you’re still not convinced here are a couple of photos proving that this place is definitely magical

Bonus : this is La Mère Poulard, the best restaurant on the island. Anne Boutiaut, who owns the place, is a 166 yo witch and to this day, she still hasn’t disclosed to recipe to her famous omelet. the muggles think she’s just in very good shape for her age. 

you can also see witches and wizards of all ages, unwinding with a butterbear after a long day, looking fondly at the oblivious muggles 

it’s a happy place 

Tips on writing Southern style for Leonard McCoy.

Here’s a link to part 2 of McCoy writing tips.

Being a native southerner and living in Georgia - the home of the great Dr Leonard McCoy and DeForest Kelley - I thought it would be fun to offer some tips for writing about the South.  I love reading Bones fanfics, but I see a lot of misconceptions about my home state and city, Atlanta.  THIS IS NOT MEANT AS CRITICISM OF ANYONE’S WRITING!!!  Hopefully people will see it in the fun spirit with which it’s intended!  I’ve also tagged a few people who have written Bones stories that I’ve really enjoyed.  I hope that’s ok!!  I love everything you creative writers do!!

2. Georgia is the peach state, but we’re not drowning in peaches.  The state doesn’t smell like peaches, taste like peaches, or drip peach juice.  1.  Y’all is plural.  And yes, we say y’all all the time, but only to refer to groups of more than one person.  It’s never you guys or even you when referring to a group - ALWAYS y’all.  I can’t talk without using that word!

3. What we are drowning in is Coke.  AKA Dixie champagne, the elixir of life, the secret formula.  Nobody calls it Coca-cola, it’s just Coke.  Coke is headquartered in Atlanta and employees are not allowed to have any other soft drink on pain of being fired if they’re caught!  (True!!)  I’ve known people who wouldn’t attend a church event because someone was serving Pepsi!  Also, all soft drinks are called Coke.  If someone says, “Would you like a Coke?”  It means “Would you like any carbonated beverage of the Coke family?”  It’s never called pop or soda or anything else (especially Pepsi.)

4. Atlanta is not a small town.  It’s a city of about 5 million people if you count the whole metro area! If your story setting is Atlanta, then remember that there are no rolling fields or country roads here.  But there is Lenox Mall, Phipps Plaza, lots of nice restaurants, and lots of streets named Peachtree.  Peachtree Street, Peachtree Way, Peachtree Avenue, and Peachtree Battle Ave. are all within about a mile of my house.

5. We don’t call each other “Darlin’”.  Sometimes we call each other “hon’” or “sweetie” or I might call a boy “bud” or “buddy” but I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone called “Darlin’

6. I would suggest not writing in Southern dialect.  It’s hard to read and frequently sounds more country than Southern.  And yes, there is a difference.  Country is more redneck, Southern is more elegant.

7. We frequently say “Bless your heart”, but it’s sort of a way of saying “Isn’t she/he sweet but stupid…”  For example, “She ordered a Pepsi, bless her heart.”

8.  Outside of metro Atlanta is rural.  Really rural.  Georgia is a beautiful state that has both beaches and mountains and we love to take advantage of both!  But not everyone lives on a farm.  I would love to read a story where Bones takes the reader to Amelia Island or St Simon’s Island - it would just be so real!  Also, we don’t ever call it the shore.  It’s always the beach.

9. It does get hot here.  REALLY hot!  And humid. But it also gets cold here - but cold to us is anything below about 45 degrees.  And the reason we’re so cold is because nobody knows what to do with it - we might own one winter jacket, so when it goes down to 20 degrees everyone just freezes.  But it’s not hot here year-round.

10. Manners are super-important.  Children are taught to say “Yes Ma’am” and “Yes Sir” from birth.  I still say yes ma’am and sir to people older than me. Gentlemen pretty much all still open doors for ladies, pull out their chairs, and stand when a lady approaches your dinner table in a restaurant (then the lady always says “Go ahead and sit!! Don’t stand on my account!”) McCoy would totally be into doing this. We ladies enjoy it.  Nobody is insulted.  But ladies also open doors for gentlemen.  We just try to be nice to each other.  I apologize if anyone ever met someone met someone rude from Georgia!  They must have been having a bad day, bless their heart. (Maybe someone offered them a Pepsi…)

11.  It’s true that tea is always iced.  And sweet. And we drink it all the time. Unless we’re drinking Coke. 

12. To me, McCoy does not sound like he has any accent, - I just don’t hear it. But Kirk sounds a little funny sometimes! 

 OK - I’m going to stop here.  If anyone has any questions please feel free to ask!!  I’m hoping to read a lot more Bones stories and I hope this helps!

@bravemccoy @mccoymostly @outside-the-government @outside-the-government @kaitymccoy123 @paigeinastory @atari-writes @medicatemedrmccoy @trade-baby-blues @anotherstartrekimagineblog @arrowsshootyouforwards @youre-on-a-starship @imaginestartrek @mybullshitsensesaretingling

lizardtitties  asked:

What's your opinion on the various architectural sights of Dubai? Over-the-top and soulless or inventive and interesting? Or somewhere in between?

Burj Khalifa

Like most things in life I think the response falls in the “somewhere in between” category. Twenty five years ago Dubai looked nothing like it does today. So just the fact that it exists as we know it now is a testament of what human ingenuity and money can create.

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The First Emperor of China and the Giant Sea Monster,

Qin Shi Huangdi is famous for being the first Emperor of a unified China.  While Emperor he created a common writing system, system of currency, an imperial bureaucracy based on merit, a codified system of laws, and a unified Chinese Empire.  He is also famous for expending much blood and treasure on the Great Wall of China as well as building a massive elaborate tomb complex complete with 8,000 terracotta warriors.

Another thing Qin Shi Huangdi is famous for was his quest for the elixir of life, a potion or concoction that could magically grant him immortality.  Qin Shi Huagdi commissioned hundreds of alchemists and mystics to create the elixir.  Many of the elixirs the Emperor favored contained mercury as a main ingredient.  A poisonous substance, mercury is now known to cause degenerative effects on the nervous system and madness. After many years of drinking dubious elixirs, potions, and concoctions, the first Emperor of China was beginning to lose grip on reality.

His alchemists never were able to find the right concoction, and the Emperor, growing more desperate and mentally unstable, order the execution of those who failed to provide him with a working elixir of life.  One day the Emperor commissioned an expedition of several ships crewed by 6,000 virgins to find the elixir of life.  The expedition was led by Xu Fu, the court sorcerer of the Emperor.  According to the Emperor Xu Fu was to find the mystical land of Penglai Island, where a 1,000 year old sorcerer named Anqi Sheng lived, a man who knew the secret of the elixir of life.  According to the Emperor he had once met Anqi Sheng who had invited him to the island.  Anqi Sheng promised the Emperor the elixir of life if he would bring him 6,000 virgins.

Xu Fu and his crew knew that the story told by the Emperor was nonsense, but they had to return with something or they would all surely be executed.  What Xu Fu came up with was an excuse, an excuse that took advantage of the Emperor’s failing mental health.  After a short sail, Xu Fu reported to the Emperor that the fleet was unable to sail to Penglai Island due to a large sea monster that patrolled the coast, preventing the fleet from sailing beyond coastal waters.  The Emperor believed the story, but not willing to let monster get in his way, he assembled a team of archers and a warship.

With Xu Fu, his eunuchs, and courtiers, Qin Shi Huangdi sailed the coast, his archers firing randomly at every disturbance of the water. The Emperor declared that he had killed the monster, it was quite apparent that Xu Fu’s plan had backfired.  He was once again ordered to set sail with his expedition and find Penglai Island.  This time the expedition never returned, instead opting to settle in Japan rather than return home to certain death.

Qin Shi Huangdi’s search for the elixir of life would be fruitless.  For the remainder of his life the Emperor continued to ingest harmful potions in hopes of gaining immortality.  He died in 210 BC after ingesting a number of pills containing mercury.

so for anyone confused about the ages/situations of various Heights characters, these are all of the character breakdowns:

24 year old owner of De La Vega’s Bodega, his parents emigrated from the Dominican Republic and have since passed away. He lives with Abuela Claudia (Grandmother Claudia), who isn’t actually his grandmother but they are as close as family. Usnavi is in love with Vanessa and remains the eyes and ears of his Washington Heights neighborhood.

19 year old Nina has just finished her freshmen year at Stanford University. She is the daughter of Kevin and Camilia Rosario. Nina is the only member of her family and friends who made it to college. She is best friends with Vanessa and a beacon of hope and inspiration to all who know her; she represents the opportunity outside of “the heights.”.

In his forties and owner of Rosario Car and Limousine, Kevin is a husband to Camilia and father to Nina. While Kevin was born and raised in Arecibo, Puerto Rico, he immigrated to New York City with Camilia. Kevin immediately started working to provide a better life for his newly- arrived family. He is stubborn, hot tempered at times and can be quick to act without thoughts of repercussions.

Also in her forties, she is the co-owner of Rosario Car and Limousine with her husband Kevin. Also from Arecibo, Puerto Rico, she fell in love with Kevin at 19 and immigrated with him to New York City. She is cool-headed yet keeps a subtle but strong leash on Kevin. Her daughter Nina has just returned for the summer from her first year at Stanford.

Now a 24 year old cab driver for Rosario Car and Limousine, he once was a street punk and hoodlum, often finding himself in trouble. Kevin saw promise in Benny and helped shape him into a responsible, hard-working young man. Benny has enormous respect for Kevin and sees him as a father figure. Eventually falling in love with Nina, Benny sees a future for them by becoming a businessman. He and Usnavi are best friends.

A 19 year old shampoo girl and Daniela’s Salon, Vanessa is strong, intelligent and grew up with Benny and Usnavi. Though Usnavi would like to be something more than Vanessa’s “friend”, he has never made any attempt. Vanessa dreams of leaving to create her own life away from her alcoholic mother.

15 years old and Usnavi’s cousin, Sonny is spending the summer working for Usnavi at the bodega. He usually hangs out on the street with his friend Graffiti Pete but avoids trouble. He is an extremely intelligent young man who strives to emulate Usnavi. Passionate to solve the social and economic problems of the city, he is someone that needs guidance or risks ending up a street punk.

In her late 60’s, she raised Usnavi after his parents passed away and continues to live with him. She emigrated from Cuba when she was very young. Of all the characters, Abuela Claudia has been in “the Heights” the longest. She struggled to learn English, struggled to find work and in turn has helped others who have followed in her path. She is clearly the matriarch of the neighborhood.

In her thirties, she is the owner of Daniela’s Salon. Savvy to say the least, she is quick witted, brassy and outspoken. While she retains a motherly relationship with Vanessa, she remains the gossip queen of the neighborhood. Non-nonsense, she has built a successful business but is being forced of the neighborhood because of rent hikes.

In her mid-twenties, she is a hairdresser at Daniela’s Salon. Born and raised in Queens, she is a pure, sweet, innocent, and loving woman who is devoted to her family and friends though she is easily taken advantage of because of her naivety. She and Daniela are best friends.

An 18-year old graffiti artist and the nemesis of Usnavi, he is always hanging out on the streets, dancing to his boom box music, spraying any surface he can. Usnavi is unhappy that Sonny and Graffiti Pete are friends because Graffiti Pete epitomizes everything that Usnavi hopes that Sonny will not grow up to be.

In his-mid thirties, he walks the hot and humid streets of Washington Heights selling piraguas (flavored ice shavings) to earn a living. He represents a rhythm of the islands in the big city.

What is the meaning of Okinawa within the larger frame of East Asian politics, and why has it proved such a thorn in Tokyo’s and Washington’s sides? The island is the largest of the Ryukyu chain, a broken necklace of coral reefs and rugged, volcanic islets that curves for some 700 miles across the East China Sea, from just below the tip of Kyushu in the north to Yonaguni in the far south, from which on a clear day one can see Taiwan. The Ryukyus were settled by the same mix of seafaring peoples that populated the southern islands of Japan, and the languages have a common parent-stock. Okinawa itself is about 70 miles long, and rarely more than seven miles wide; it lies in the typhoon path, some 400 miles from the coast of China’s Fujian Province, 800 miles south of Tokyo, roughly on the latitude of the Florida Keys. Granite slopes, green with sub-tropical vegetation, rise from clear seas; there are spectacular natural anchorages. The soil is poor, and what little cultivable land there is yields a hard living. Yet for centuries the island thrived as a way-station for maritime trade along the eastern Pacific. Intrepid Okinawan mariners ventured down to Indo-China and up to the Yellow Sea.

Envoys from the Ming Emperor had first reached Okinawa in 1372, and actively encouraged the island’s trade. Ryukyuan leaders thenceforth participated in the rituals of the Chinese tribute system: travelling every two years to the Imperial court to make their kowtows, and be royally fêted in return, while taking advantage of the many opportunities for informal trading along the way. Tributary gifts were supposed to be native produce, but an exception was made for the Ryukyu Kingdom, which had so few resources of its own—sulphur, copper, shells—yet could offer such dazzling luxury imports. The warehouses in the harbour town of Naha stored rare timber, spices, incense, ivory and sugar from the Indies and beyond; swords, textiles, ceramics, Buddhist texts and bronzes from Korea or Japan to be shipped to China; brocades, medicinal herbs and minted coins going the other way.

The sailors brought stringed instruments and dances from Malacca and the Indies which the islanders adapted to their own legends. Ryukyuan masonry became a high art, the heavy local stone carved into sturdy yet graceful ramparts and bridges. Above the harbour, the palace complex of Shuri Castle commanded a panoramic view over the ocean and the distant islands. Its steep stone walls and ceremonial gateways enclosed lacquered reception halls, gardens, shrines and the private apartments of the king, his wives, courtiers and concubines. The leading English-language historian of the island, George Kerr, has described the sophisticated society created by a population of perhaps 100,000:

It was a toy state, with its dignified kings, its sententious and learned prime ministers, its councils and its numerous bureaus, its organization of temples and shrines and its classical school, its grades in court rank and its codes of law, all developed in an effort to emulate great China. [26]

The Ryukyu Kingdom’s trade with Japan—the only power in the region to defy Imperial China—was supervised on the Shogun’s behalf by the Daimyo of Satsuma in southern Kyushu. This involved a second set of tributary relations. In the 1590s, the King of Ryukyu politely declined to support Hideyoshi’s planned assault on Korea and China. As a reprimand, the Daimyo launched a hundred-strong armada of war junks against the island in 1609. His forces looted Shuri Castle and took King Sho Nei prisoner. The terms of his ransom were an annual tribute, amounting to nearly a quarter of the tiny kingdom’s revenue, to be paid in perpetuity to the daimyo of Satsuma. In addition he would henceforth control all the Ryukyu Kingdom’s overseas trade—and, after 1634, exploit it freely to circumvent the Tokugawa Shogunate’s seclusion edicts, which closed off trade to the rest of Japan. The Ryukyuans turned to Peking for help, but the enfeebled and embattled late Ming court felt neither obliged nor able to inconvenience itself for a subordinate state. [27] Ryukyuan merchant shipping declined, weakened not only by Japanese rake-offs and the disruptive effects of the Manchu take-over in China, but by European penetration of the East China Sea, bringing with it missionaries, guns and demands for trade.

By the early 1800s, Western interests—American, Russian, British, French—were converging on Japan, hoping to prise open its ports by diplomacy or force. The Ryukyu Kingdom was an obvious—and defenceless—launch pad for such an attack. In 1853 Commodore Perry dropped anchor in Naha, hoping to establish a military base. The White House thought it would be ‘inconvenient and expensive’ to maintain such an outpost, however, and the Commodore sailed on to Edo and a larger prize, having granted the little state recognition with the 1854 Ryukyu Kingom–United States Friendship Treaty. From Japan’s vantage point, too, securing Okinawa was the rational first step in a modernizing imperialist expansion that would soon encompass Formosa and Korea. Within five years of the Meiji Restoration, Tokyo had asserted its sovereignty over the Ryukyus and—through a show of arms on Formosa—extorted recognition of this from China. When Shuri demurred, a garrison force was dispatched to the island and a powerful Home Ministry bureau opened there. In 1879 the now-powerless Ryukyuan throne was abolished and an Okinawan Prefecture established, under the command of a Tokyo-appointed Governor. The deposed king was held under restraint in Tokyo until his death in 1902. [28]

Imperial rule brought a levelling down for Okinawans as the local aristocracy was displaced by arrogant officials from the north. Land reform in the early 1900s abolished the communal village-allocation system in favour of private ownership, creating tens of thousands of landless labourers. Sugar-cane plantations, run by a monopoly corporation whose principal shareholders were the Imperial Household and the Mitsui and Mitsubishi Companies, came to dominate the local economy. Japanese modes of dress and speech were made compulsory; state Shinto and the Emperor cult were imposed; portraits of the Emperor and Empress hung in every public building. Eventually, in 1920, Ryukyuan representation in the Diet was put on the same footing as that of the rest of the country. Okinawans suffered severely during the inter-war period and Great Depression, which has passed into memory as the time of sotetsu jigoku or cycad hell, when people were reduced to eating the fruit or bark of the cycad, a palm-like but toxic tree. They played little role, however, in the militarization drive of the 1930s or invasion of China in 1937. The minimum height and weight requirements for the Imperial forces were above the average for Ryukyuan males, and during the Second World War they were largely confined to the labour corps. [29]

Facing defeat, Hirohito ‘sacrificed’ Okinawa in a bid to preserve the Emperor System and the home islands, while treating for surrender terms. The Allied land assault was launched in April 1945: the ancient walls of Shuri Castle were subjected to continuous bombardment from air and sea for sixty days, while half a million US troops poured onto the island, five times the size of the defending force. To the Imperial Japanese Army, distraught Okinawans were either a nuisance—competing for scarce resources, hindering troop movements—or a threat, suspected of spying because of the incomprehensible dialect they spoke. In the most extreme cases, grenades were distributed and the people were called upon to sacrifice themselves in ‘collective suicides’. At the same time, many trying to hide in the island’s caves were incinerated by American flame-throwers. More than 200,000 people, half of them civilians, died in the rain of fire and steel. After the cynical nuclear bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki had secured an already prostrate Japan’s unconditional surrender, Okinawa became ‘an immense, neglected military dump’:

Towns and villages were rubble heaps; tens of thousands lived in caves, tombs, lean-to shacks, or relief camps … Farmers became air-base labourers; fishermen became truck-drivers; the old aristocracy disappeared. Cast-off GI clothing, American soft drinks, cigarettes and canned goods supplied a new luxury trade for a totally impoverished people. [30]

The memory of 1945 is seared into Okinawan identity and has shaped responses to the security agenda foisted upon the island ever since. Their outrage is especially stirred by attempts to sanitize history, as happened under Koizumi, by deleting from school textbooks their memories of the compulsory mass suicides under the bayonets of the Imperial Army, and the final orders from Tokyo to abandon all thought of survival. They learned, and refuse to forget, that neither the Japanese nor the American armed forces were there for their defence.

—  Gavan McCormack, ‘Obama vs Okinawa’.  New Left Review 64, July-August 2010

personality peek! i’ll do the 2nd group some other time!!

v v v - more details!! ( ndrv3 spoilers!! ) - v v v

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anonymous asked:

Is there a difference in naming between different regions of westeros?

Thanks for the question, Anon.

Yes and no. Yes in the sense that, in certain regions (particularly within certain families), certain names and naming conventions are going to dominate. Virtually every generation of House Stark, for example has a Brandon, with a smattering of Benjens and Ed- names for boys and Ly- names for girls. House Lannister loves its Ty- names, of course, but also its J/soft G names (Jason, Jaime, Joanna, Gerion, Gerold, etc.) and its soft C names (Cersei, Cerelle, King Cerion, etc.). The Greyjoys love names ending in -on for boys (from first Lord of the Iron Islands Vickon to the “Red Kraken” Dalton to all but two of the nine sons of Lord Quellon). 

At the same time, many names seem to be shared amongst regions. The most famous Rickard to readers, for example, was surely Ned’s father Lord Rickard Stark, and there was indeed a historical King Rickard Stark and a few northmen named Rickard … but there have also been a Rickard Wylde (of the Stormlands), a Rickard Tyrell (of the Reach, obviously), and a Rickard Thorne (of the Crownlands). Willams/Willems can be found in the North, Stormlands, Riverlands, and Westerlands, while Steffons can be found in the Reach, Riverlands, Stormlands, Crownlands, and Westerlands. Olyvar, besides being the name of one of the most good-hearted Freys, was the name of both an Oakheart Kingsguard knight famed for being cut down by Dornishmen alongside King Daeron I and the short-lived younger brother of Prince Doran Martell of Dorne. Balon was given as a name to three known ironborn - including the late Lord of the Iron Islands - but is also the name of the Kingsguard knight Balon Swann, of the Dornish Marches. Most obviously, of course, there are quite a number of Jons and Jeynes now or formerly in Westeros. These are only a few examples, but they go to show that, while traditional family names (and politically advantageous namesakes) are certainly a thing, many names do not call only one region home.

The Queen Regent (NFriel)

anonymous asked:

yuuri is a photographer/viktor is the Attractive Neighbor!

Yuuri likes to sleep in on summer Saturdays. His covers are cool, the air conditioning blowing gently in from the window unit, and the sunlight shines in warmly, the light forming stripes on his bare chest as the rays pass through the gaps in his blinds. He checks his alarm clock. It’s only nine am. Something woke him up, and he can’t quite remember what it was. He recalls brief flashes of a dream that quickly dissipate with the dull thunk of a bulky piece of furniture being pushed up against the other side of his wall.

Right, he recalls. New neighbors.

Yuuri groans and pushes his face back into the pillow. He hears loud voices in the next apartment down, and hopes desperately that the new people aren’t too rowdy. There are advantages to living in Manhattan, sure, but peace and privacy are not one of them. The movers (he hopes they’re the movers) yell out again, and although the sounds are muffled, there’s no way he can go back to sleep now. He groggily sits up, scratching his stomach absentmindedly, blinking the night out of his eyes.

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I like you

This is my first imagine on here and i’m a little nervous but here you go ! Pairing : Peter Pan x Reader Warnings : none ENJOY ! —————–

It’s been eight months since the Shadow took you away from your abusive home and brought you to Neverland. Every single one of these eight months were pure bliss, as you discovered the meaning of a true home, and of a family. The Lost Boys were your brothers now and you couldn’t be happier. It was hard at first because, being the first Lost Girl, it was tough to fit in, but after a week or so you managed to gain their trust and enter the big family that they were forming.
Being the only girl came with a lot of advantages : you had your own hut, the work you had to do was easier than the boys’, you had your own shower… But being the only girl on an island of boys also had its cons. You wish you had a girl friend to talk about your girly problems, to advice you…
When you arrived on the island, the first person you met was Peter. He didn’t even bother showing you around the island, he only told you the rules the community lived by. You didn’t really like him at first, you thought he was rude, arrogant and controlling.
During the eight past months you and him got closer though, because he was the first one to acknowledge the fact that being a girl meant you had different needs from the guys. He really understood two weeks after you arrived, when your periods started. It was really awkward for the both of you because well, you had to talk about it to a guy, and it’s a situation he never had to deal with before. It was nothing a little magic couldn’t handle though. The awkward encounter certainly made you closer, you even still joke about it sometimes.
But Pan was still the controlling and arrogant boy he was when you arrived, that’s why you cherished the rare moments you could joke and have fun with him.
Tonight was the ritual night, which meant everyone was working to make the party perfect. You had the easiest job, which consisted in picking as many flowers as possible and decorate the location of the celebration.
The sun was high in the sky, the heat almost becoming almost unbearable as you picked flowers in the meadow that was full of tulips, roses and many other species.

You stood up from the uncomfortable position you were in once you finally filled the basket with flowers and wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand and started walking back to the camp. Hopefully Pan will be there to see you have been working hard and will allow you to go get some rest because after staying under the sun all day long you were seriously about to faint. He has been acting weird lately so you really didn’t want to make him mad at you.

You walked back to the hut and the first thing you saw was a boy looking at the flowers, his back facing you. From the all green outfit he was wearing you could tell it was Pan.

“Hi Pan” you hesitantly said, and he instantly turned around.
“Hello Y/N” he replied, “nice work”, he continued, the tone of his voice showing no emotions.
He started to walk out of the hut but you dropped my basket and grabbed his arm to stop him. He stopped walking and slowly turned around, eyeing your hand grasping his bicep and raising an eyebrow before looking back at you, as you quickly took your hand of his arm.

“What ?” he asked, sounding annoyed.

“I just wanted to know if i could go rest” you stuttered, intimidated.
He thought about it a few seconds before responding with a blunt “no”.

“Peter please i’m exhausted and I worked under the sun all day i really don’t-”

“It’s Pan to you.” he harshly stated. “And I said no. Get back to your work.”

“Why are you being such an ass ?!” You asked, raising your voice as your eyes started tearing up. “What did i do for you to be so rude all of sudden ? All i want is take a fucking break !”

“Don’t you dare raising your voice on me y/n!” he yelled at you, walking towards you and you kept stepping back until you hit the wall. His voice got lower but still harsh “This is my island and you will do what i say!”.

“Fuck you Pan!” you yelled as you pushed past him, running to your hut as you heard him calling your name.
When you finally made it to your hut you slammed the door as hard as you possibly could and angrily wiped the tears from your eyes before going straight to bed.
Fuck Pan and fuck his little celebration, you needed to rest. You were hurt, a few weeks ago you thought you were finally getting close to Peter but he started trying to push you away and being really harsh with you. You brushed it off and as soon as ou stopped thinking about him you fell asleep.

When you woke up, your head was pounding and you had no idea of what time it was.
Music from the flute and drums could be heard from outside so you could guess the celebration started. You yawned and stretched before getting out of bed and then stepping out of your hut. The boys were dancing around the bonfire, drinking and laughing. Pan was sitting and playing the flute, and as soon as you stepped out of your hut your eyes met his, and with a snap of his fingers you were alone with him on one of the beaches of the island.

“What do you want Pan ?” you snapped, still annoyed with him.

“I’m sorry”, he sighed and you chuckled. “Pan is sorry ? The Peter Pan is sorry ? Wow, I must be dreaming !” you sarcastically laughed.

“Y/N please don’t…”

“Don’t what Peter ?!” you almost yelled. “You’ve been such an ass to me lately, we used to have fun together and all of sudden you started ignoring me, being rude, snapping at me ? What did I do to deserve this Pan ? What did I do to you for you to hate me all of sudden ?”. By the time you were done screaming at him you were on the verge of crying, tears pooling your eyes.

“I don’t hate you” he quietly stated.

“Are you sure ? Because it sure seems like i-”

“I like you okay ?” he yelled. “I like you, I’m sorry i was being an ass, I was just trying to push my feelings away and I just… I don’t know, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He sighed, his head in his hands.

You sighed too and sat down next to him and laying your head on his shoulder. He tensed up for a second before his body relaxed and he wrapped an arm around you and you tilted your head up to lay a light kiss on his jaw.
“I like you too”

Ex Gratia (chapter 8)

A red apple rolls out of the overstuffed shopping bag on the kitchen counter and she manages to catch it with her fingertips right before it falls off the edge.

Feeling a wave of exhaustion washing over her, she chooses not to bother with unpacking of the bags, and instead makes her way to the living room, plopping down on the sofa. It was a national holiday and since all the big shops were closed, she’d had to walk few miles before she managed to find a small overpriced grocery store, crammed with unorganized, forgetful people like her. She’d spent at least half an hour there, scavenging for the few remaining food items and then another fifteen minutes in the endless line, where one of the customers cheerfully remarked that with their survival skills none of them would survive an apocalypse if it were to happen.

She stares blankly at the muted TV, half-heartedly trying to make sense of what’s happening.  She’d been watching the news channel before she went out, but she’d switched it to silent when she had to take a phone call.

The screen is showing a young dark-haired girl being escorted by policemen, cameras flashing everywhere around them.  Shirayuki can’t help rolling her eyes, deciding it’s too early to stomach hearing stories about delinquent criminals before she’s even had coffee. She picks up the remote, but right before she turns the TV off, a familiar figure standing across a half a dozen of hand-held microphones appears on the screen.  

Keep reading

thetiptoeingtulip  asked:

In what way do you think each type would react if they were put in a situation similar to Lord of the Flies? I know it really does depend on how developed they are, but in general, how would their functions respond and what sort of role might they take?

In the general sense, let us play this. 

ESFP: Takes the lead of the situation right away. Their Se is in their element of improvisation and observation. They start the civilization and their Fi makes them care about the people around them. 

ESTP: Lets the ESFP lead and is a charismatic sub-leader that goes against the harsh tertiary Te rules the ESFP enforces and makes sure everyone is fed. They are the Robin Hood of the group. They go against the ground rules, but they aren’t doing evil things. 

ISTP: Is watching out for themselves. If you are meant to survive you will with your own two-hands and smarts. 

ISFP: Won’t lead, but doesn’t like being told what to do. Won’t speak up unless the ESFP leader does something unethical.

ISTJ: Making sure that the group has all the supplies needed to survive. Taking inventory and letting the ESFP leader know how to properly disperse food, clothing, shelter, etc.

ISFJ: Is looking out for themselves and their closest friends. Everyone else can fend for themselves, but the ISFJ will make sure themselves and those they care about make it.

ESTJ: Will try to be the leader, but will just generally slow down the process of getting the civilization together. Will probably be the one to incite mutiny because the ESFP seems to be winging it and not dropping the law as the ESTJ sees fit.

ESFJ: Making sure the group is put first. The ESFJ doesn’t care about everyone being individually happy, but wants to make sure that the group as a whole is together and thriving. Will do any action to make sure this happens.

INFJ: Observes what everyone is doing and questions the ethics happening before them. They don’t speak up until it is too late and something terrible has happened, but they had a feeling it was gunna go in this tragic direction and regret their lack of action.

INTJ: Observing from afar what is happening and has the same feelings as the INFJ as to what will happen, but instead of being concerned with the ethics of the situation, they have been slowly moving their pieces to make sure the next leader is good and the civilization will still be intact. Some sacrifices may have to be made and no one will realize the INTJ has been the one “in charge” the whole time.

ENFJ: Wants to make sure everyone is happy with the role they have to play in this new civilization. Will be charismatic and be the one that everyone really follows and listens to.Without this person the civilization really would fall apart.

ENTJ: The ENTJ takes advantage of the ESTJ uprising, but is in fact the one that actually takes over lead from the ESFP.

INFP: Leaves the group because they were too violent and conflicting too much. Goes on their own spiritual journey on the island and comes back with knowledge of the island that no one else has. Is trying to figure out how to best live their life in this new world.

INTP: Doesn’t know what the group should do, but is very vocal on what everyone is doing wrong. 

ENFP: This is the person who keeps optimism among the people. There has to be a better way. They will survive and not only that find happiness. You just have to find the right path to go on.

ENTP: Tries to figure out the truth of what is really going on, but seems like they don’t care what happens at all. Discovers the truth of the INTJ and has to decide what to do before it is too late.


BLUE SCIENCE. happy munday my friends !!! have some pictures of my & my fave cousin . don’t get to see this little guy often cos he lives on the island way out there . i always take advantage of pictures whenever i see him . – so have us last weekend in celebration for bc day over on the island in victoria . late birthday celebration for our nana .

right features us on our first day at the legislative building - where a sort of welcome ceremony happened for our prime minster who came into town. we didn’t see him though he was off somewhere else .

the left features us on the last day having lunch at seafood bar & grill .

Stronger than you (Part 1)

Request: Can you do an imagine where Peter Pan finds a (Y/N) who’s significantly stronger than him so he tries to kill her but he realizes that he could manipulate her with his looks and she doesn’t notice that he was about to take ‘advantage’ of her because she was very lonely in Neverland (Y/N lives in a hidden part of Neverland) ($๓µ† РŁ€ΔŞ㉫ 😅)


“Are you sure about this?” Pan smirked, “Yes Felix. After I kill her, we can see what she’s been hiding.” Felix nodded, they were on top of a mountain, looking down at a lone island a bit far from the main island, near mermaid lagoon.

Pan never really noticed the island until he heard the mermaid arguing about who the strongest person was in Neverland. He smirked when some mermaids mentioned his name, but frowned when they mentioned a girl by the name of Y/N.

What peaked his interest was when one mermaid mentioned how the shadow answers to her and not Pan. He flew to the spot where the mermaids were, their faces paling as he spoke, “Tell me more about this… Y/N”

They told him about the island hidden by clouds. He thought that he had explored all of Neverland, he was wrong. Pan flew to the island, from anyone’s view, it was a normal looking island. 

But he never failed to notice a protective spell around the island, he stopped five meters away from the beach, where the shield was. “Well, none of them told me about this” he muttered.

A girl raised her head from under the water, she was obviously swimming, but Pan raised his brow when he noticed that she was skinny dipping. “My my, the famous Peter Pan! You’ve finally visited!” 

Her cheery voice called him back to his senses. He cleared his throat and peeled his eyes away from her body. “Hello, sorry it took so long, I didn’t know about you until this morning” She got out of the water, giving Pan a full view of her backside until she placed on a robe.

“___ didn’t tell you that I was here?” Pan raised a brow “___?” He heard her giggle, “Oh sorry. That’s what I call the shadow. Please, come in.” with the command of her voice, Pan saw the shield disappear. Even he couldn’t cast a spell without moving a finger or saying a spell.

They entered a hut, created with bamboo and palm leaves. He watched as things automatically moved in her house. The tea set started setting itself, the kettle started boiling the water. The brooms swiped the floor before she walked on it, fruit trees bore fruit and lowered its fruit to a bowl.

“No, the shadow didn’t mention you.” He couldn’t help but stare at the bizarre magic that she possessed “So, what do you do here? In Neverland, I mean” to him, she seemed like a teenager, but she was probably older than him. “Me? Well… I guess I created Neverland?” 

Pan blinked, “Created… Neverland?” she smiled as the kettle signaled the water was ready, “Yeah. I really wanted the star to the left but my twin took it first.” he just stared at her, she was talking about Neverland as if it was a house for sale.

“I can control everything, from the shadow, to the weather, to the magical properties in this realm.” an idea popped into Pan’s mind as she started to pour them tea, “Really? Anything?” Y/N grinned, “Wanna see?”

Ever since she got out of the water, he never failed to notice how she would blush when he stared at her, or how would stare at him when he wasn’t looking. Pan knew, he could use this to his advantage, maybe I don’t have to kill her after all. He smirked as he leaned closer, “How about I show you something?”

“Yes, please!” Pan stood up and sat on her bed, he patted it and watched as she practically bounced next to him when she sat. “What is it?” Y/N leaned closer, her eyes sparkling in genuine curiosity, she failed to notice that the tie of her robe was slowly undoing, loosening it to the point where Pan could see her cleavage.

He grinned, she thinks like a child, “trust me, this will feel good” he whispered before he captured her lips. Y/N’s eyes grew, but when Pan’s hand caressed her backside, she closed her eyes.

anonymous asked:

I'm trying to put off a little my tomarry obsession, so here I am again on the drarry fandom! Do you know any good drarry fics with Harry going dark?

Hey Anon! This is kind of a subjective category - what constitutes dark!Harry and what doesn’t? Does he have to be evil in some way? Or depressed? Or reticent? Or angry? Or self-destructive? And of course, different writers characterize Harry differently and wouldn’t necessarily see Harry as dark, vs dealing with the fallout of the war or his childhood of abuse. So I’d say that these are fics where Harry is darker than usual. I’d also say that they’re excellent and moving. Enjoy them, and please leave some love for the authors!

Drarry Recs: ft. Dark!Harry

Allegiance and Sedition by SilentAuror - NC-17, 98.5k - The war is in its fifth year, and Harry finds himself caught up in the confusion of friend versus enemy, spy versus traitor. 

Bound Skerry by Frayach - M, 2.5k - Harry has a secret hidden away on the remotest of the Shetland Islands. (and sequel, The Postmaster, below)

Breathe Me by @kedavranox - NC-17, 70k - Since the singular incident of being a Horcrux for many years has left Harry with a sensitivity to Dark magic, Harry begins training with Jacob, a Wizard who lives in New York, using this sensitivity to his advantage to cleanse magical spaces of Dark magic. After a year of training, Draco Malfoy shows up, wanting to learn from Jacob as well, and unexpectedly the two men grow a bond, both magical and physical. But Jacob’s sudden death leaves Harry floundering and growing increasingly dependent on drugs and sex to avoid his problems. After his brief and tumultuous affair with Draco ends, Harry begins a life of travel, avoiding returning home permanently and continuing his drug habit. He flits from job to job, from place to place, never settling down for a moment, until, years later, Harry is called back to England by his friends to help Draco find his way out of a cursed Manor.

Collect Your Courage by mervab - NC-17, 44k - Potter needs control; Draco needs forgiveness. They shag; Lavender gives advice; they yell; Seamus makes muffins; they fight; and everyone else drinks far too much coffee for their own wellbeing.

Danse Russe by Frayach - NC-17, 140k - True Love. Soul Mates. They’re just words until put to the test. Harry and Draco have a bond that was forged in the hell of the post-war years and pulled them both back from an abyss of nihilism and self-destruction. Nothing can break it, or so they believed. But True Love can demand sacrifices too great to bear and deeds too terrible to justify.

I Am Your Shadow by @eidheann - NC-17, 3k - Love (n) An intense feeling of deep affection. Yield (v) To give up or surrender (oneself).

The Kiss by Frayach - M, 5k - Draco’s trial is over, and Harry remembers almost everything.

Kiss Me With Fire by Lucilla Darkate - R, 4k - They know each other, heart and soul, but still it changes nothing.

Nightingale by michi_thekiller - NC-17, 62k - God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages. -Jacques Deval

Obsessive (Compulsive) by xylodemon - NC-17, 6.5k - Harry dreams in red and white.

The Postmaster by Vaysh - NC-17, 3k - A new postmaster comes to the remotest of the Shetland islands. (Sequel to Bound Skerry, above)

REVOLVEVLOVER by @firethesound and zeitgeistic - NC-17, 46.5k - The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for.It’s just that he’s never deciphered a kill sheet and seen Draco Malfoy’s name on it.

Salvation & Sacrament by AbbyCadabra - R, 16.5k - “It seems as if everywhere I go, I find the nowhere in somewhere, or make it of anywhere.”

Sometimes They Burn by @emmagrant01 - NC-17, 17k - After the War, Harry Potter makes Draco Malfoy an offer he can’t refuse – and Draco discovers that his own demons are very real.

The Thread Measurer’s Apprentice by Sansa - PG, 9k - A mysterious letter saves Scorpius’ life. When Draco discovers who sent the warning, a most unusual partnership is born.

Wildfire by AbbyCadabra - NC-17, 20.5k - “I’ll make you scream,” Potter whispers, and Draco can think of a thousand other things Potter could make him do, but he doesn’t think any of them will feel this good.”

Once Upon a Time: Peter Pan [ENTJ]

Extroverted Thinking (Te): Peter Pan establishes the rules of the island, and expects the Lost Boys to live by them. He sets out with an objective – to find the mystical child – and systematically gathers children over the centuries to accomplish that end. He is comfortable with leadership, to the point of abusing it. He has a sequence of smaller plans building into a larger goal. Pan likes to control his environment and those in it, as much as he enjoys mastering his own emotions.

Introverted Intuition (Ni): He anticipates every action the others will take, and is always ten steps ahead of them, always pushing them toward his larger objective. Pan foresees problems, and takes early action to correct them; he has a diabolically playful sense of humor, and enjoys his own cleverness. He is forever thinking in the long-term, and relies on his powerful insights into human behavior to inspire many of his decisions.

Extroverted Sensing (Se): His awareness of the island and its potential allows him to lay traps for the others, appear to change his mind on a whim, and even at times indulge in reckless behavior. Pan is excited by action, and stimulated by dangerous situations. He is good at reading physical cues, and quick to take advantage of opportunities as they present themselves.

Introverted Feeling (Fi): Every rule on the island is subject to Pan’s personal beliefs, and he is unlikely to change his mind unless his personal moral code is invoked. He pursues his own goals at the cost of others’ freedoms and lives, and believes his moral system should be universal. Pan tries to enforce his way on others, showing an unhealthy and underdeveloped Fi.

saving all my summers for you


The blistering heat seemed to pound against the Earth. With not a single cloud in the sky, it created a dry, humid atmosphere that left everyone drowsy and sluggish. The Lost Boys laid around, too hot to move their honeyed limbs and groups of them pile under any source of shade found. It was truly one of the hottest days of the Neverland summer.

This included Peter Pan, who shed his infamous dark green attire into cooler clothes. Freckles blossom around his cheeks and his sea green eyes pop with vibrancy, framed by his dark blond eyelashes. You sighed as your head lays on his lap.

Peter sat perched against an apple tree running his fingers through your hair, that in the light shines all different shades of your original color. He enjoyed the softness of your hair, twirling and twisting it around his fingers. Your eyelids fluttered shut at the feeling and from the shy breeze that danced around the open area. No words had to be said, the presence of each other was enough than any spoken words could mean.

You looked up at Peter, catching his eye and laughing as he raised an amused eyebrow. You whispered of how you could fall asleep with him playing with your hair, and he encourages you to while pushing stray forehead hair out of your face. The hot weather tinged your cheeks fuchsia but Peter couldn’t care less. It was as if the whole island was having a lazy day and Peter would surely take advantage of the alone time he had with you.

You do start snoozing eventually. Peter gathered your hair around, sectioning it into pieces and rolling them around each other into what becomes a braid. Living on an island with boys, Peter feels a sense of pride in accomplishing something so small as braiding hair since he never had sisters to teach him. He ran his hands through you hair, re braiding smaller pieces and he swears this is what heaven on Earth must be. With a beautiful girl laying on his lap, he had everything he needed.

With the heat giving him a scarce headache, Peter leaned his head back against the trunk, lightly petting your head as he fell  into a small nap of his own. 

You woke up with an awkward ache in your neck . The sky had turned a pale mauve color, and the sun rested low in the horizon. The day had cooled down now that it reached evening. You turned your head around to find Peter sleeping gently, the steady rise and fall of his chest calming you and reminding you of the afternoon spent together. Shorter pieces of your braid had fallen out and droop around your face; you tucked them behind your ear. You press small kisses to Peter’s cheek, trying to wake him up. It was time to head back to camp, the Lost Boys were probably wondering about the disappearance of their king.

He awoke and rubbed his eyes, all traces of this demon boy being replaced by the helpless young boy he once was. You grinned and he smiled back, letting you pull him up onto his feet with a few sarcastic groans. He stoped you briefly, turning you around and quickly redoing the braid that was barely left. Walking back to your side, his bashful eyes don’t go unnoticed as you take his hand and give a reassuring squeeze, as if saying thank you. With the last remainder of twilight in the sky, you and Peter leave the meadow, vowing to come back soon.

I Shouldn’t Have Skipped the Holiday Party

By Hypnofur

I should have gone to her Christmas Party, well Holiday Party, whatever. The truth is, I didn’t want to. My wife, Marissa, works for a college. It’s an online college though, so she works from home. She works in the marketing department. The headquarters is in New York City, and every year they bring all of the people who work for the school together for a Holiday party. However, it is very expensive to do so, especially since the school will pay for a night’s hotel. As a result, the party is always right after Christmas, but before New Year’s, to take advantage of a lull in the holiday hotel rates. We’re talking the December 27th, 28th area. The party isn’t even at night, it is during the day, so they can get the best rate on a venue.

Anyway, I didn’t want to go. I’m a kind of quiet guy, originally from South Dakota. Marissa is from Rhode Island, where we live now, so she has much more of that East Coast feel. Most of the people who work at the school are East Coast people. I haven’t really hit it off with them in the past. NYC is sort of my least favorite city too. It is so, well, New York. I try to minimize my time there as much as possible.

Now, in fairness to me, I did have a legitimate IT meeting I needed to attend at work on the 27th, the day of her Holiday party. Marissa was disappointed, but understood. I probably could have gotten out of the meeting if I tried hard enough, but I didn’t.

I almost changed my mind the night of the 26th. Marissa was getting packed up and ready to go. She was showing me what she was going to wear. She had a black velvet dress that she thought would go great with the little black fox fur jacket I had given for Christmas the day before. She put on the outfit and bounced out of our bedroom to show me. I was watching football at the time. When I saw her, I immediately got excited. Goddamn she looked hot with her Italian dark hair and big brown eyes. Her smile that I loved so much.

“Oh no, I know that look in your eyes!” she said in mock protest. I smiled and started chasing her around the house as she screamed in laughter. I caught her in our bedroom. We laughed, and fucked. I love her so much, and she loves me. We are very happy together, and we both know that this upcoming year is likely the one where we will get pregnant for the first time. Yes, we waited until our mid-thirties, but that is what people do now.

The train ride from Rhode Island to NYC is about three hours. Her Christmas party was at noon, so when I dropped her off at the 9:00 train, she was dressed in her party outfit, knowing she wouldn’t have enough time to get to the hotel first. It was the second time that I regretted not going with her. She looked so hot. I tried to convince her to duck into the train station bathroom with me, but I didn’t seriously expect she’d go for that.

However, she was happy to know that she was turning me on like crazy. She playfully stroked the fox collar of her little black jacket as she smiled at me. “I hope none of the handsome professors try to whisk me away while you’re not there…” she teased.

“If the professors were handsome, they wouldn’t work at an online college. It’s kind of like having a ‘face for radio’”, I joked. The truth is, I went to the party last year, and I knew full well there was not one even half-way attractive dude there. Not that I worried about Marissa anyway, I trusted her completely, and I knew I was her guy. Our marriage was stronger than any I knew.

As the train boarded, I kissed my wife and told her I would see her the next day. I still wasn’t really regretting my decision as the train pulled away. In fact, I figured I would go see the new Star Wars movie that night. Marissa really wasn’t in to Star Wars, and would probably only fall asleep when we rented it in a few months anyway.

That’s exactly what I did. I went to a 5:15 show, so I was out by about 7:30. Being a considerate husband, I called her to find out how the party went. This is where things started to go awry.

“Hello?” said a man’s voice on the other end of the line. I pulled my phone away from my ear to make sure I had dialed the right number. I had.

“Umm, hi, I’m looking for Marissa”

“Yes, well, I’m afraid she’s quite busy right now. She’ll have to return your call. Is this the hubby?” he said. He sounded British, and slightly out of breath.

“yeah” was all I said before I heard the line disconnect.

What the fuck?

I trusted Marissa completely, but I was very unsettled for the rest of the night. What exactly was happening there? I texted her to call me when she could. Hours went by, no text. Around 11, I called again. And texted. Nothing. By 2:00 am, I had booked the first train for myself to NYC, unfortunately, it did not leave until noon.

The next morning, I was very worried, and exhausted as I sat on the train going down to NYC. I prayed that maybe she had just lost her phone. But why wouldn’t she ask a co worker to text me or something and tell me she was ok? Or call from the hotel phone? I hadn’t slept a wink all night, and I must have looked like hell. I’m sure all the people on the train with me were a bit wary of me.

When I was about an hour outside of Penn Station, I finally got a text from Marissa.

Hey babe. Staying another night. Having fun.” It read.

What? That didn’t sound like her. I didn’t believe it was really her. It actually made me even more worried. I was freaking out.

Maris, what’s going on there.” I immediately texted back. No reply. After waiting about three minutes, I sent “I’m coming there. On a train. Be at the hotel in two hours.”

Fifteen or so minutes went by with no response. Then, I got “sounds good

Sounds good? That surprised me. My guess was that whoever had her phone had no intention of being at the hotel anyway. I tested that theory.

What hotel and room, babe?” I asked, even though I knew full well what hotel. I had looked at her email confirmation. I had all of her email passwords, and she had mine. That was the level of trust we had between us.

The Marriot on 44th St. Room 412” was texted back to me. That was the right hotel. Now, I was very confused. Was this really Marissa texting me? Really didn’t sound like her, and I can’t remember the last time she did not include an emoji in one single text, nevermind three in a row or so. Something was up.

I was getting off the train when the next text came through. “What time will you be here? I’ll have room service dinner waiting

I was so confused. I texted back 20 minutes, half wondering if I was going to get jumped by thugs when I walked in the room. My head was spinning as I Uber’d to the hotel. Going right up to room 412, I knocked on the door. Sure enough, Marissa answered. She gave me a big hug. She was in her normal clothes. She didn’t seem hurt or injured, or like anything odd had happened. There was indeed a room service dinner waiting for us. It was like nothing odd had transpired for her over the last day and a half.

“You must. Be hungry. You look terrible by the way.” She said. She seemed so normal.

“Well, I was up all night worried about you!” I said. “You didn’t text or call!”

“oooh.. You are right babe. I’m sorry. Take a seat. Have something to eat and have some wine. I’ll tell you all about the party” she said as she gave me a hug and rubbed my back. She was completely herself. This was all so strange, but maybe I had made too much of everything?

I relaxed a little bit and dug into the food and wine. As the burden of worry left me, I was left with a lot of tiredness. I will admit I was more than a little curious to know what went down at the online college party.

“Oh my god Pete, it was so much fun!!!” she said with her familiar Marissa exuberance.

“So, was it the usual suspects?” I asked, before biting into my Chicken Marsalla.

“Yes, and a few new ones. For instance, there is a new Professor in the Psychology Department. He’s British” she said.

Uh oh. I wasn’t happy that the bloke was the first guy she mentioned. “Who is he?” I asked.

“His name is Niles Eggleton. He’s amazing.” She said, as if she was describing the food at the party. There was no sensitivity to the fact that I might not want to hear that some dude was amazing. I was starting to get a little pissed, but I got myself in check. Maybe the dude is like 100 years old.

“How old is he?” I asked.

“I don’t know, a little older than us. Mid 40’s maybe?” she said. There went the elderly theory.

“I see. What makes him so amazing?” I asked with a chill in my voice.

“Well, he is an expert in hypnotism for starters” she said, still just completely oblivious to my disdain.

“He sounds like a quack. I don’t believe in that shit” I said. I knew I sounded like a jealous ass, but well, I kind of was at that moment.

“I know, that’s what I said too. I started telling him that hypnotism wasn’t real, how it was a bunch of exhibitionists who just wanted attention. Or weak minded people who wanted someone to tell them to stop eating twinkies. Carol and Bill from accounting were there at that point too. They totally cracked up at the twinkies line.

So then Niles starts telling us how hypnosis is much more powerful than people realize. I guess he has written a bunch of papers and is a total expert. I guess it isn’t that surprising, I mean he has this magnetism, and that accent. Oh my god.”

“Magentism?” I said. Was she seriously saying this? I was trying not to lose my shit. I took another drink of wine. It was actually hitting me pretty hard. Probably because I was so exhausted.

“Yeah. So, now there is like a crowd around us as he is telling me all about how powerful hypnosis is and stuff. I’m like, yeah, I’m not buying it. Somebody, I think it was Todd from the math department, was like ‘prove it’! I could see Niles was not flustered at all. He has this incredible confidence. So he’s was like, fine, I’ll prove it. The fact that he didn’t try to back out or anything started to make me wonder if he actually could do it. It was like he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he could completely hypnotize whoever he wanted.

So then, he looks at me, and he’s like ‘I’m going to hypnotize you Marissa, in fact, I’ve already begun’. I was thinking, you have? He’s looking me right in the eyes, like really intensely. He tells me that I’ll find that my entire focus is on him. Nothing but his eyes and the sound of my voice. And I have to tell you Peter, it was like my whole awareness just narrowed right to him” she said, as she made a corresponding hand motion of her field of attention narrowing down. Marissa was always so animated when she told a story. She got so into it.

“He started telling me about my breathing, and how relaxed I was getting. As he said it, I actually felt it. I felt myself relaxing. He again told me to focus on his voice, concentrate on how it feels to slip into his hypnotic trance. Oh my god Pete, it did feel good” Marissa said, seemingly lost in a blissful memory now.

The room felt so warm and my head was tingling.

Marissa didn’t seem to notice how weird I was feeling, she just kept talking about her experience. “He told me he wanted me to take deep, even breaths and let go of my thoughts and worries. Just…relax for him. Seriously Pete, I had no awareness that there was anyone else in the room, it was like he was all that existed for me. He told me I was feeling so profoundly entranced, so ready to drop deeper and deeper. He told me to repeat that out loud to myself, deeper and deeper, until he commanded me to do otherwise. And I totally heard myself mutter under my breath. ‘Deeper, and deeper. Deeper, and deeper…’ I felt my head rush, no other thoughts than fulfilling what I’d been told to do by this charming hypnotic man.

Soon he was counting down from ten. At seven, he described how he was pulling me so deeply, and that I had no thoughts left.  At two he said I was feeling heavy and wonderful as my arms hung limp at my sides. When he reached one, he said Drop. Deep, entranced and obedient.”

And I felt obedient Pete. I was totally under his power. I was still staring into his eyes as my lips continue to move, saying ‘Deeper and deeper… Deeper and deeper…’

He then told me to SLEEP and snapped his finger in front of my face. Honestly, Pete, I went out like a light. I don’t remember a thing from that point on until he took me out of trance. At which time, by the way, I found myself sitting on his lap. I was really, really turned on. I do remember seeing Carol looking all pissed. She was seemingly upset with Niles, I just felt really happy, relaxed, and sexy.” She told me.

My wife was telling me how she was under some guy’s control, sitting on his lap, really turned on. Why wasn’t I flipping out? Why wasn’t I protesting? Why was I just sitting here? What the hell was in this wine? I had pins and needles in my hands, and my tongue felt so thick.

“Carol came up to me after and said that I had been taken advantage of, and that I should call you. I didn’t really follow what she was saying. Niles then handed me my fox jacket and suggested we get some air. I followed him out of the party. Some of the guys from the history department were hooting and hollering at him.”

“He must have called an Uber, because all of a sudden we were in a car, heading to my hotel. He reminded me that everything he said was absolutely true. He told me I was still under his hypnotic thrall, and I knew he was right. I was completely under his power. He reminded me that I found this to be incredibly sexy. I was so turned on Peter. I knew I shouldn’t be though, I mentioned you, and that I was married. He told me that his hypnotic power was more powerful than our love. He told me that I was his, and that I loved that idea, and that I found it so sexy.

He couldn’t keep his hands off my velvet dress and fur coat Pete. He was so turned on. I was too. We made out in the back of the Uber. In fact, we made out all the way into the hotel room. He put on some music and I decided to put my back to him, and grind my little velvet ass on his crotch to the music. He put his hands around my fur coat covered waist and let me lead the way.

He muttered something about how hot I was, as I bent over a little bit, to let my dress rise up. He moved his hands lower, and rested them on my thighs. I felt him slip a hand under my dress, and grab my ass.

He told me I was his, and I confirmed that I was, giving him permission to slide his other hand under the front of my dress. I turned around, and lifted my right leg. He grabbed it and held it up. His other hand went directly to my wet pussy. He pushed me to the wall, and fingered me until I couldn’t take any more. He squeezed my clit and slid two fingers into my tight hole. I tried to put my leg down, but he tightened his grip, and continued to finger fuck me until I came. He kissed me as I came, to keep me from getting loud. He finally let my leg go, and I slid to the ground. He stood over me, and I looked up to see his huge dick sticking out of his pants. I licked my lips, and got on my knees to suck at his command.

I know I always refused to do that for you Pete, but it is different with Niles. It’s like I can refuse him nothing. I took him into my mouth almost halfway, and almost choked, as I’ve never done anything like that. He told me how much I desperately wanted to taste his cum, and how much I would love it. But I began to use my hands, and the fur of my sleeves and I finally found my rhythm. He played in my hair, while I felt myself get wetter and wetter. He told me play with myself, so I reluctantly removed one of my hands and used it to rub my throbbing clit.

Do you want your Master to fuck you? He asked me. Was he my Master? I realized he was. I begged him to take my pussy. I backed up to lean on the wall, and lifted up my velvet dress so he could see what he was getting.

He grabbed his dick, and almost ran to me. I braced myself as he lifted my left leg, and positioned himself at the entrance to my throbbing pussy. He slid in slow, and covered my mouth to hide my moans. He finally pushed the entire length of his cock inside of me, and my right leg left the floor. He held both of my legs up, and pounded me. He looked me in the eyes while he filled me up, his grey eyes so hypnotic. He pulled out and slammed back into me, pushing me up the wall. I had never been this wet ever in my life. The feeling of being so hypnotically submissive to my Master brought me to orgasm quickly. I felt myself tighten up on his dick, and he sped up his pace. That’s actually when you called Pete.

Your call caused him to pull out of me. When he hung up on you, I asked him if I could suck the cum out of him, and his strokes got deeper. He moaned and dropped one of my legs. He pulled out of me and I fell to my knees and licked the head of his dick, just as his first stream of cum hit me on my cheek. I closed my mouth on the head, and felt several more streams coat the inside of my mouth. He grabbed my head as I sucked him off in the middle of his orgasm. Can you imagine me like that, with cum all over my face, sucking his cock?” She asked, wickedly.

It was at that point that I realized that even though my mind was foggy, and my body was heavy, my dick was rock hard. Marissa leaned over the table to sneak a peek at my tented pants. What she saw made her laugh.

“Well well, I guess you can imagine that!” she said with a laugh. “So after that, and for the next 18 hours or so, Master Niles took me deeper and deeper into hypnosis for him. He said he’s never met someone as hypnotizable as I am. He’s completely changed the way I think, the way I feel, and I love it. I love to serve him.” Marissa said, breaking my heart.

“So, you’re probably wondering why you are so totally stoned.” Marissa said. The look in her eyes was, exuberant? Pleased? Oh my god, how brainwashed was she? I couldn’t get myself to talk or say anything, but I prayed she’d be able to listen to what my eyes were trying to tell her.

“Well, Master Niles is going to hypnotize you and brainwash you. Not only to make sure you are not a problem for us, but to make sure you do his bidding. I’m going to be his bride.” She said, revealing her/his evil plan, as I noticed a man I presumed to be Niles enter from the side room.

Damn, I shouldn’t have skipped the Holiday Party!