do all good deeds

I used to think that I had to be more kind to people by doing more of what they wanted me to do, not realizing that this is more of what being a pushover meant. A pushover is someone who does things that they don’t necessarily want to do for others while forgetting about their own needs. To be kind, all you have to do is respect people and do good deeds when you genuinely want to. It turned out that the only person I had to be more kind to was myself.

The leaking bucket

Beware of the leaking Bucket!

1.You take the best wudhu but waste a lot of water (a leaking Bucket).

2.You pray all of your prayers in time but you have no khushu (a leaking bucket).

3.You post reminders and have thousands of followers on Instagram and Facebook but you’re doing it for the fame not to please Allah (a leaking bucket).

4.You help others but you’re doing it to gain something from them and not doing those acts of kindness for the sake of Allah’s Glory (a leaking bucket).

5.You give alot of sadaqah to the poor but you humiliate them and hurt them (a leaking bucket).

6.You stand up for tahajjud at night, fast, read Quran every day and obey your Lord but you cut your family ties (a leaking bucket).

7.You are very kind to people and speak with them gently but with your family you are always harsh (a leaking bucket).

8.You fast and have sabr for the pangs of hunger and thirst but you swear, insult, curse (a leaking bucket).

9.You wear abaya and Hijab but your perfume is strong (a leaking Bucket).

10.You are following the sunnah and have a beard but you don’t lower your gaze (a leaking bucket).

11.You honour and treat your guest well but when he/she leaves you gossip about him/her and talk about all his/her flaws (a leaking bucket).

Do not gather all your good deeds in a leaking bucket. You struggle to fill it whilst it easily runs out through the leaking holes!

May Allah guide us to the right path, make us do all of our good actions for pleasing Him alone and by Your mercy be pleased with us always Ameen.

The Leaking Bucket

Beware of the leaking Bucket!

1.You take the best wudhu but waste a lot of water (a leaking Bucket).

2.You pray all of your prayers in time but you have no khushu (a leaking bucket).

3.You post reminders and have thousands of followers on Instagram and Facebook but you’re doing it for the fame not to please Allah (a leaking bucket).

4.You help others but you’re doing it to gain something from them and not doing those acts of kindness for the sake of Allah’s Glory (a leaking bucket).

5.You give alot of sadaqah to the poor but you humiliate them and hurt them (a leaking bucket).

6.You stand up for tahajjud at night, fast, read Quran every day and obey your Lord but you cut your family ties (a leaking bucket).

7.You are very kind to people and speak with them gently but with your family you are always harsh (a leaking bucket).

8.You fast and have sabr for the pangs of hunger and thirst but you swear, insult, curse (a leaking bucket).

9.You wear abaya and Hijab but your perfume is strong (a leaking Bucket).

10.You are following the sunnah and have a beard but you don’t lower your gaze (a leaking bucket).

11.You honour and treat your guest well but when he/she leaves you gossip about him/her and talk about all his/her flaws (a leaking bucket).

Do not gather all your good deeds in a leaking bucket. You struggle to fill it whilst it easily runs out through the leaking holes!

May Allah guide us to the right path, make us do all of our good actions for pleasing Him alone and by Your mercy be pleased with us always Ameen.

Many sisters feel that they cannot do much of Ibaadaat while on their monthly period, this is not true. Allāh gave us the blessing of time, we should take advantage of it in doing things that are pleasing to Him. So, here is a list of ten easy Ibaadaat that can be done during the period:

1. Make lots of du’a (supplication) to Allāh
Being in that state of ritual impurity should not prevent you from making du’a.
It is reported from An-Nu’man bin Bashir (May Allāh be pleased with him) reported the Prophet ﷺ said: “Du’a is worship.”
[Abu Dawud]

2. Visit a close family member
When you are visiting one of your close family members make sure to have the intention of keeping good ties of kinship between both of you.

The Prophet ﷺ said: “And he who believes in Allāh and the Last Day should unite his ties of kinship.”
[Reported by Al-Bukhari]

3. Make lots of Istighfaar (seeking forgiveness from Allāh) and dhikr (remembrance of Allāh)
This can be done when you are cooking, cleaning, going to work, going to the shop, etc. Allāh swt says:
“O you who have believed, remember Allāh with much remembrance.”
[Surat Al-Ahzab: 33: Verse: 41]

4. Give Da’wah to Muslims and non-Muslims
This can be by sharing an Islamic post on face book, sharing Islamic knowledge in general through media, and most importantly being a good example through your manners, speech and actions. Allāh says: “And who is better in speech than one who invites to Allāh and does righteousness and says, “Indeed, I am of the Muslims.” [Surat Fussilat: 41: Verse: 33]

And the Prophet ﷺ said: “Convey from me even if it is (only) one ayah (verse).”
[Narrated by al-Bukhari]

5. Read beneficial books
Choose books that will help you understand more about Islam, purpose of this life and duties towards our creator. Anas ibn Malik said, the Messenger of Allāh ﷺ said: “Seeking knowledge is obligatory upon every Muslim.”
[Sunan Ibn Majah]

6. Visit the sick
It is one of the rights upon another Muslim to visit them when they are sick, and not only that, there are great virtues for visiting the sick as mentioned by our beloved Prophet ﷺ: “When the Muslim visits his (sick) Muslim brother, he is harvesting the fruit of paradise until he returns.” [Narrated by Muslim]. This would also enable us to be more thankful to Allāh for the good health that we have and content with the condition we are in.

7. Listen to the Qur’an frequently
Listening to the Qur’an would enable you to prefect your recitation of the Qur’an, help you revise what you memorized, and constantly remembering Allāh in your heart and mind.

8. Help others
If you see your sister in Islam going through hard circumstances, do what you can to help her. One day if you are in that same position, Allāh will bring to you someone who will help you too.

9. Smile in your sister’s face
By doing so, we are following the Prophet’s sunnah and will be rewarded for it Insha’Allah.

10. Spread the greeting of “Salam”
This should be done with those [sisters] we know or never met before. The Prophet ﷺ said: “You will not enter paradise until you believe, and you will not believe until you love one another. Shall I tell you about something which, if you do it, will make you love one another? Greet each other with Salam.”

In conclusion, let’s renew our intentions and make sure we are doing all these good deeds sincerely for Allāh’s sake and following the footsteps of our beloved prophet Muhammad and his companions (May Allāh be pleased with them all).

Twas the Night Before NaNo...

….and in Scripty’s house 

She sat there a-clicking with keyboard and mouse. 

She fretted and paced, and as she walked along

She wondered just how to help these Anons 

Who, just like her, were at keyboards tapping 

A novel, in thirty days! If they won, there’d be clapping! 

She hoped they’d all finish, all her readers and she 

(And she hoped that this poem wasn’t too twee)

Could she do it? She wondered. Could she succeed? 

Could she write all the words and do all the good deeds? 

The Ask Box she glared at, and wondered just how 

She could help, she could sway, she could dazzle and wow 

Then a thought struck her with a kapow:

She’d open the inbox! She’d open it NOW! 

The first days and Mondays and Tuesdays of November she’d let 

Writers come over and ask questions, yet

Priority’d be given as it was due: 

Help others who were completing NaNo, too! 

So send me your ask and I’ll do you my best

But remember to eat and remember to rest

Take care of your body and take care of your heart 

For NaNo is an excellent thing, at the start 

But if the pressure causes your heartbeat to run,

Take your foot off the gas. Relax! It’s supposed to be fun!

So what if it takes you a month or a year? 

Be kind to yourself, and be of good cheer. 

And know that for you, Aunt Scripty is here. 

I hereby declare the Hunger Games Ask Box to be…. open! 

The official ScriptMedic November Ask Box Schedule: 

Weds/Thurs/Fri Nov ½/3 – OPEN 

Sun Nov 5  – PURGE 

Mon/Tues Nov 6/7 – OPEN 

Sun Nov 12 – PURGE 

Mon/Tues Nov 13/14 – OPEN 

Sun Nov 19 – PURGE 

Mon/Tues Nov 20/21 – OPEN 

Sun Nov 26 – PURGE 

Mon/Tues Nov 27/28 – OPEN 

Thu Nov 30 – PURGE 

The ask box will be closed throughout December 2017. 

Good luck with NaNo, y’all! I’m right here with you, living the suck. 

xoxo, Aunt Scripty

I’m gonna tell y’all a little story.

When I was in high school, I was transphobic and acephobic. Not to any great extent, I certainly didn’t think these people were bad, or disgusting, or unnatural–in fact, I tried to be very supportive of them, and believed they deserved all the same rights I had. I’ve always been for equality.

But I was bigoted in other, smaller ways.

One time, there was a trans person on television. I think they may have been a gay trans man–if not, they were a gay trans woman. I looked over at the others in the room and said, “I don’t get why they’re transgender if they’re just going to keep dating the same gender.” I thought, for some reason, that trans people could only ever be straight, and that the whole point of transitioning was so that they could be straight.

Another time, I asked my mother, “If I came out as asexual, would you disown me?” and she told me no, she would not. I took this as proof that asexuals were not oppressed, that they were just whiny babies trying to muscle in on the LGBT+ community’s territory. I took my bigoted mother’s oddly tolerant reaction to asexuality and used it to support my own bigoted beliefs.

Fast-forward to now.

I’m a gay trans man, and I support asexuals and aromantics wholeheartedly.

Recently, there’s been a bit of an uproar about Kubo, the creator of Yuri on Ice, tweeting something homophobic–seven years ago. Since then, she’s gone on to create an anime that is deeply personal and inspiring to many people, especially LGBT+ folk, especially mlm. She has talked at length about protecting the world she made from homophobia, about a world where everyone is free to love who they wish. She has paid homage to so many openly gay skaters–real people, who she obviously admires and studied at length.

She has been nothing but supportive of us and our community. She has given us something wonderful and uplifting, and…

…if that tweet from seven years ago is real, she’s changed.

Seven years ago, I was a completely different person. I was still in high school. I was still bigoted in a lot of small, insidious ways. I hadn’t figured out who or what I was yet. I hadn’t come to terms with it. I hadn’t opened my mind to different possibilities, and ways of life, and cultures.

Kubo comes from an extremely xenophobic culture. Anything foreign, anything out of the ordinary, is touted as “bad” and “wrong.” Japan isn’t the well-spring of equality a lot of westerners seem to think it is. It’s plagued by bigotry–in some ways, even more severely than America.

Seven years ago, when she was younger, maybe she was a part of that culture.

But she’s had time to grow and change, and she has spread nothing but positivity and acceptance during her time in the limelight. She has used her popularity to be uplifting and open-minded.

Now westerners are trying to throw something embarrassing she believed seven years ago in her face, and are using her ignoring their attempts to stir up trouble as proof that she hasn’t changed.

I’m sorry, but you aren’t doing this as a good deed. We all know you aren’t. You aren’t sneaky. You aren’t slick. We know what you’re up to, we’ve seen it a thousand times. You’re trying to do exactly what Kubo’s trying to avoid–stir up trouble.

Let us have this. Stop trying to take something positive and turn it into something negative. Stop digging years and years into peoples’ pasts to find a single thing they said when they were fourteen and use it as justification for ruining their online presence.

People change. People are supposed to change. It’s a natural part of the human life cycle.

Put down the torch and pitchfork, and let them.

linkspooky  asked:

What do you think might happen to Seidou in the future?

Hi LS! I think Seidou’s arc hereon out will revolve around the symbol of Amon’s cross. To put my prediction into context, I’ll also be analysing his development throughout the series.

When we first meet Takizawa, he is introduced in contrast, as the kind of comedic follow-up, to the impressive entries of the big names of Shinohara and Houji into the story.

This is a perfect example of structure reflecting character. The very way we are introduced to Takizawa is exactly how he views himself - the underwhelming and pitiable novice following at the heels of his betters.

 Right off the bat we are introduced to the two major character features that will guide the course of Seidou’s development henceforth: his earnest admiration (and desire to emulate) great investigators like Amon, and his lack of confidence in himself. These features are expanded further with Suzuya and Akira’s introductions, who further intensify Seidou’s inferiority complex with their immense skills and frustrate his admiration of the Investigator image with their unorthodox approaches: Suzuya’s complete disregard for the conventional and Akira’s disdain for how Takizawa longs for promotion.

Takizawa desperately wants to overcome his own weakness and become the Investigator he admires, especially with these constant aggravations to both his confidence and his ideals around. Thus his eagerness to get out into the field.

But when the call to arms finally comes, we see his ideals conflict with his confidence as he weeps over his testament. But in the end, Takizawa is able to conquer that weaker side of himself and strive forward to the ideal - even running to the rescue of his old hero Amon. And how is he rewarded for his bravery? For being the “ideal Investigator”?

He is turned into a Ghoul.

After a turn of events so twistedly and tragically ironic, it’s no wonder Takizawa lets go of his aspirations to be a praiseworthy hero and rejects Amon’s determination, especially after devouring his own parents. The human image is turned to meat in the next, and thus does Takizawa’s psychology change. “Give up what?!” indeed - the Hero is dead. So instead, he falls hopelessly into the pit of his other major character trait, his low self-esteem and self-hatred. He embraces the weakness he detests.

And he manifests that weakness in the form of extraordinary violence against the people deemed by himself and by others as his “betters”.

It is Kaneki who experiences this first, the man whose precedent Kanou tortured Takizawa to live up to, mirroring the pressure Seidou put on himself to live up to others in now graphic and hyperbolic format. 

But, suppress it as he might, Takizawa’s Investigator complex, an intrinsic part of his character, can’t help but rear its head again when his other hero, Houji, comes knocking. His fantasy from his suppressed desire for heroism can finally become real. Depressive nihilism is not a sustainable ideology and if the light of hope appears, even if its been false in the past, you will still hopelessly run to it.

And Takizawa is disappointed yet again. His earlier rejection of the Investigator image returns tenfold in his fury, symbolically killing the model of it he looked up to. In an ironic reversal of his introduction, Takizawa is the only one of the three investigators introduced in that scene to still be active, and is easily the most powerful, to the extent that one of those ‘betters’ has now been killed by his own hand. Having returned to his crusade of envy, he launches his attack on Akira only to be prevented by Amon, who he similarly turns against. Takizawa is now driven by nothing more than that second part of himself in its most grotesque form - to prove himself better than them, no matter what the cost. But he finds himself backed into a corner by Mutsuki - Kaneki’s parallel, the symbol of the Half-Ghoul - and thus of his own slide into absolute Ghouldom. But on the brink of tragedy, true hope appears, as it does for our main character in this same arc. Seidou is protected from the symbol of his Ghouldom by the symbol of his humanity, and the reconnection to his better, heroic nature begins.

 But to put back on the cape completely, Takizawa needs recognition by the vivid symbol of his better nature that still survives - the man he was introduced looking up to.

The cross is one of the most basic and famous archetypes for morality as well as being synecdoche for Amon’s character. In this way, Takizawa is holding his ideal in his hand - it is, quite literally, within his reach, whether he thinks he can handle it anymore or not. It is enough to inspire him to do his first purely good deed in years - saving Akira - and he spends the following arc following the path of self-sacrifice to ensure both her and Amon’s full recovery. Takizawa even states in his internal monologue later on that Amon inspires this change in him.

But of course, when he next meets Amon, the shoe is on the other foot. Despite what his own insecurity told him, Takizawa was a fine Investigator before his transformation - second in the class is nothing to scoff at, and his attempt to save Amon was truly heroic. Now Takizawa finds himself face to face with another fine Investigator transformed into a monster, and swears to make him a person again. He is being confronted with a doppelganger of his worse side and symbolically overcomes it. Kurona realises what he has become even if he himself has not.

However, despite that, and fittingly in the Moon Arc, Takizawa is still unable to embrace his Heroic side. Once again he is undermined by that tenacious lack of self-confidence. He decides that he can never live up to Amon or Kaneki after all he has done, and to simply do this one good deed for the people he cares about and then fall off the radar. Potentially, as Kaneki predicts, falling off this world.

So he tries to return the cross, that symbol of Heroism that reminds him of his inability to reconcile that desire with his own weakness - the “heavy chain”. But Kaneki doesn’t let him.

Kaneki won’t let him give up on that heroic side of his, because he remembers where he himself was headed when he did the same. Because Seidou’s conflict - between heroism and weakness - is, like so many other tragic characters, simply a battle between his duty and his feelings, his Giri and his Ninjo. Kaneki is only here today because he ultimately chose his Giri (without entirely neglecting his Ninjo), and he hopes Takizawa will do the same. 

Indeed, Seidou is far more like his idols than he thinks. He might think himself irredeemable, but both Kaneki and Amon have a wide range of sins under their belts while still being heroes today. And what that cross really represents is far more than just moral excellence, as Takizawa probably assumes judging by his resignation to damnation.

It is a symbol specifically for repentance. The fact that Takizawa has been handed this cross once more symbolises, both to him on a personal scale and to us on a narrative scale, that he must one day fully make his repentance, banish his cowardice and become the hero that he always wanted to be. That, I believe, will be Seidou Takizawa’s final triumph over tragedy. His Ninjo ought to focus on the friendships he’s fostered rather than fixating on his own deficiencies. As the Christian imagery indicates, salvation exists for all repentant sinners.

He’s trying to live normally now, but to paraphrase the man himself, with the Oggai around living normally is no easy feat. To even accomplish the meagre goal he’s set himself, he has to be a hero, or a normal life won’t even exist anymore. He’s already been driven to help out Hakatori, someone he came to blows with back on Rushima. His better nature is leaking out, ready to gush like a flood. All it takes is this Judgement phase for it to break through.

I doubt he’ll join the CCG rebels after what happened last time, and just as well - if Marude blamed Urie for failing to save Iwao, he’s certainly not going to forgive Takizawa for outright killing Houji. I suspect he’ll eventually be reunited with them, but right now I see two options, represented by his two most prominent parallels. Either he’ll rejoin Kaneki and help him rebuild his movement, or he’ll seek out Amon and Akira and join them in whatever endeavour they’re engaging in. 

He’s been set up to be a force against the Oggai - and this, surely, will bring him closer into contact with the true author of his tragedy, far more than Tatara ever was. A final reckoning with Kanou, I think, lies in Seidou’s future.

And in the interest of parallels, let’s not forget this conversation with Kaneki.

Takizawa very accurately pins down Kaneki’s development as being in the same place as his own - to live for someone else. Helping your friends is just one step down the hero’s path. If Takizawa’s destiny is to become a hero for the world, then it’s Kaneki’s too. He’s already gotten closer to that destination after Touka inspired him to care more for the plight of the Ghouls, just as Seidou has moved closer with his concern over the Oggai - but the rest of their development in this direction lies in the Judgement to come.

Whatever Seidou does henceforth, I’m sure it will be the right thing.

Father II

read part one here

Read the story on ao3 here

“Pomona honey!” Called Poppy out. “Urgent letter from Hogwarts for you!”

Pomona Pomfrey-Sprout smiled when she saw her wife standing in the door of their little cottage. After nearly forty years of marriage she was still very much in love with her. “Coming! I just have one more mandrake to plant!”

She made quick work of the last little bugger, then hurried off towards the house. It was probably Neville again, asking her for tips on how to handle his particularly nasty first year Ravenclaws, who always tried to corner him with complex questions about subjects more fitted for fifth years. It was a clever technique to disturb lessons and avoid homework.

“Here.” Poppy handed her a cup of tea, the letter and a morning kiss. “If it’s Neville again you should tell him to just floo in next time. I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Will do, will do.” She opened the letter.

Dear Pomona,

I’m sorry to say that Malfoy has fallen ill. It’s nothing serious as far as I know, but he won’t be able to teach for a while. I persuaded Minerva to let Harry take care of him until he’s back on his feet, and I am now taking over the defence classes. I was hoping that you might be willing to replace me in herbology while I do so. It would be greatly appreciated.

Hope to see you soon,


Pomona smiled. “As much as I love to see you in just a bathrobe.” She pulled her wife into a hug that became a kiss. “I’m afraid we have to get going. Hogwarts needs us.”

“I hope those two will finally find each other now. Pomona used to grow Devil’s snare, a plant known for it’s slow pollination, but even they never took more than a year to get together.” Madam Pomfrey crossed her legs and took a sip of tea from the cup Neville had offered her. She had arrived ten minutes ago, and while Pomona had immediately left for the gardens, Poppy had stayed with Neville to catch up a bit.

“Did you just compare Malfoy and Harry with Devil’s Snare?” Asked Neville.

“Maybe…” Poppy took another sip of tea, using the cup to hide her smile. It was about time Harry found some happiness, and Malfoy wasn’t undeserving of it either after everything he’d done for the school.

“I think I’d best be off to the greenhouses now. You never know what those first years will do when faced with a new teacher, and my darling girl isn’t the youngest anymore.”

“I don’t think we have anything to fear in that department. I suspect even in her sleep she’d still be able to teach seventh year Ravenclaws.”

“I know…” Poppy sighed. “But back in the day I made her fall for me when I helped her with a tough class. I wouldn’t mind reliving that moment.” She smiled at the memory.

Neville laughed. “That’s actually really cute.”

“Yeah, Pomona and I are sometimes quite  sappy for each other.”

“You mean sapphic for each other?”

Poppy gave him a sharp, disapproving look. Neville threw his hands up in defence. “I wasn’t going to leave that perfect opportunity unused okay, you know me.”

Poppy rolled with her eyes and got ready to leave.

“I’ll see you during lunch!” Called Neville after her. He knew she secretly loved his puns, even though she would never admit it out loud.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I’m here, I’ll get you out of this mess. Don’t you go thinking that I won’t. You’re my friend now and I don’t fail my friends.” Harry was stroking Malfoy’s perfect blond hair. He knew the other man wasn’t listening to his ramblings, he’d fallen asleep some time ago, but Harry needed to say it for himself. Needed to believe it was true.

He actually had no idea how he was going to stop Lucius from retrialing except for marching into the ministry and straight up forcing the minister to refuse Draco’s dad his basic wizarding rights. Not that he had anything against that idea, but he knew Draco would never accept it.

He sighed, and pulled out his wand to sent a patronus to Minerva, telling her that he wasn’t able to teach his classes that day. He didn’t want to think about the consequences of the memory he used to conjure it. How he was getting Malfoy out of this mess was his top priority, not the reasons behind his desire to do so.

Harry tried to relax a bit, and tightened his arms around Malfoy. There was a certain calmth coming from his body pressing on top of him. His weight was somewhat reassuring.

While he stared at the ceiling, his thoughts drifted to that one sentence again. What kind of monster do you have to be, in order to make your own father hate you.

The words had shocked him. Apparently Malfoy blamed himself for what his dad was doing, like after all those years of hard work and good deeds he still somehow hadn’t been good enough. Like all of this was caused by him not trying his best instead of his father being a total shitbag.

Harry didn’t understand how Malfoy could still love his dad, how he could still care about his opinion after everything he’d done. But he also felt out off his debt, because he didn’t know what it was like to have a dad. He had no idea how Malfoy felt and for now he could do nothing more than hold him, tell him it wasn’t his fault, hoping that would somehow be enough.

But deep down he knew it wasn’t.

When the afternoon neared its second half Malfoy slowly started to wake up.

“Hey.” Harry greeted him with a warm smile. Malfoy groaned, and turned his head away.

“Please tell me I didn’t cry myself to sleep in your arms.” He whispered.

Harry tightened said arms around him. It was his way of saying that Malfoy shouldn’t get weird ideas like getting up, because Harry wasn’t letting him go. “You kind of did. But that’s okay. We all have our bad days.”

Malfoy let out a huge sigh. “Fuck.” He readjusted himself on top of Harry, a difficult task because Harry’s arms held him in a deadlock. “You know you can’t solve every problem in the world with a good hug right?”

“I know.” Answered Harry. “But I can try.”

Suddenly he got a broad smile on his face. “Hey Malfoy, you do realise you just called me a good hugger, right?”

“Did I say good?” Malfoy lifted his head from Harry’s chest. His eyes were still red from crying, but the despair that had reflected in them earlier was gone. “I meant terrible. You’re nearly murdering me in your arms, your shoulders are too bony, your…. Ugh.” Harry wrapped his arms around Malfoy even tighter, like he was trying to push all the air out of his lungs.

“What was it you were saying about my hugging qualities?”

Malfoy opened his mouth to answer, but could barely say a word because Harry cranked up his muscle power even more. “Great…” Malfoy gasped for breath. “Greatest hugger…”

“That’s what I thought.” And Harry loosened his grip.



Malfoy let his head rest on Harry’s chest. They lay silently in each other’s arms for a while before Malfoy spoke again. “I suppose there’s no chance…”

“No Malfoy, indeed there isn’t. I am not going to not talk about what happened.” Said Harry with a stubborn tone in his voice.


“But what? Malfoy we’ve worked together for two years now. I consider you to be my friend, no matter how weird that might sound. And friends don’t abandon each other when something like this happens, even if it’s not the easiest subject to talk about.”

Malfoy sighed, defeated, and rolled off of Harry. “Could we postpone talking about it then? I think it still has to sink in a bit.”

“Sounds reasonable.” Answered Harry, whose stomach grumbled loudly.

The sound made Malfoy’s eyes widen, and he pushed himself up to a sitting position. He looked worried. Even though it had been nearly two years since Harry had beaten his depression, his lack of appetite had never really left. Malfoy hadn’t really been lying when he complained about bony shoulders.

“Potter, have you eaten?” Harry was suddenly very busy studying the ceiling.

“You haven’t, have you?” Malfoy checked his watch. “Both breakfast and lunch?” Harry sat up as well now, but still refused to look at Malfoy.

“Dammit Potter. You were doing so well before.”

“But this was to blame on the circumstances!” Said Harry defensively.

“Circumstances my ass, any normal person would have called a house elf for some food.” Malfoy sounded more concerned that angry. Harry would have prefered him angry, he didn’t want anyone worrying about him. Especially not Malfoy, who shouldn’t have anything on his mind but his dad at the moment.

"You and I both know I’m not…”

“No, Potter. You are indeed not a normal person, you’re the boy who lived. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need food in order to stay that way.”

“You haven’t eaten either though.” Harry realised how weak his excuse was, and he cast his eyes down at the duvet. He knew he should have eaten but it had slipped his mind again, like it so often did.

“I was out cold, you were not. You can’t keep skipping meals like this Potter.” Harry slowly looked up, and Malfoy caught and held his gaze.

Malfoy’s eyes were no longer red from crying, instead they contained a spark. A fire.

Harry didn’t think he’d ever seen Malfoy like this before. The life in his grey eyes did something with him. It captured him. It calmed him down. It made him believe Malfoy would never not be there to remind him of the little things.

“You care.” The words were soft, surprised, filled with something Harry had never felt before.

“Of course I do.” Malfoy didn’t cave this time, though he felt more emotions rush through his veins now then he did that morning. Harry only now noticed Malfoy was holding his hand. “Of course I care.”

I really don’t know what to think of this…. I feel like I could have done better but I’ve started over 3 times already so clearly I can’t

but I hope to have come somewhat close to people’s expectations anyway

If you want me to write a part 3 soon then following me will help with that; I post a new piece every time I hit a memorable number of followers, for this piece that’s 350 (OMG that’s a lot!?)

Thank you all so much for your enthuosiasm! Here are the people who wanted to be tagged/were really positive about the previous piece: (Also, shoot me a message if you’re still willing to hear from me when I post again)

@zuzzersten66 @ellabella8185 @mullistus @princess-ikol @dracomightlovespotter @shoshiti @reallyimpossibleartisan @ladyontheave @aelizabethf @blarrrrrrrrrrg @theoriginalshamelessnightmare @miniemcgee @imagine-drarry @alvorota @somethingabouttheway

Not Right Now Henry

Hell’s Kitchen AU belongs to @spudinacup

I just wanted to write something for this. 

Bendy wasn’t really sure what he’d expected from his life. To be honest, he hadn’t expected to have a life, period. But now, here he was, living and breathing, and serving soup to 20 odd hobos who had taken up residence in the studio. That part he hadn’t expected. When Joey had brought him to life, the little demon had not anticipated starting up a soup kitchen. He didn’t do good deeds. That was Alice’s schtick. He’d fed the hobos soup once, just to get rid of them and use up some of the bacon soup that was literally everywhere, and that had made them come back. Now it was a regular thing. They came, he gave them soup, they left, and then they came back again. He’d even roped Sammy into it, although the former music director wasn’t always the most helpful even on his lucid days. He had a tendency of doing the opposite of what Bendy said out of some residual spite he had for anything and everything around him. Luckily no one had been fed ink, yet, and Bendy intended to keep it that way. He’d almost forgotten about his whole plan to get revenge on Henry. That is, until Henry showed up at the studio with a letter clutched in his hand. 

“Someone’s here.” Sammy said, slumping past him. It was one of his better days, when he had some semblance of who he used to be. His memory was still a little foggy, so he didn’t immediately recognize Henry when the old animator waltzed through the door. 

“Another hobo?”

“No. He knew me, so I guess he used to work here.” Sammy shrugged and went off to the back to get some more cans. “He seems familiar.” Bendy almost dropped his ladle. Henry! Of course! He’d sent the letter and everything and now Henry was back. The demon groaned, running a hand over his face. He did not want to deal with this right now. Not while he had a line of people waiting for their soup. 

“I’ll be back in a minute.” He said, excusing himself to head upstairs. Henry stood just inside the studio door, the letter in his hand, his mouth wide open. There were people everywhere, huddled in corners as they drank their soup. He was still surprised the damn stuff hadn’t expired yet. 

“Bendy?” Henry asked, eyes widening as the demon came into view. 

“Yeah, can we reschedule the whole ‘revenge’ thing?” Bendy asked. “I got like 20 hobos holed up in here and Suzie won’t let go of my leg. Please let go, Suzie.” He looked down at the little girl currently clamped on to his spindly leg. She must have latched on as he was coming up the stairs. She shook her head, holding on even tighter. Okay, so that was something he was going to have to deal with. 


“Henry, I will hit you with a ladle. Just scram.” Just to drive the point home, he held up his ladle menacingly. It didn’t work as expected. Henry burst out laughed, clutching at his stomach as he bent over. Bendy tried not to groan. This was pretty much the last thing he needed. 

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up.” He folded his arms. “Just as long as you get lost.”

“I’m sorry.” Henry wiped a tear from his eye. “It’s just…I didn’t expect to find you of all people doing good deeds.”

“First off, how fucking dare you.” Bendy said, pointing the ladle. “Second, this ain’t a good deed. I’m feeding them so they’ll leave. Gets rid of the soup too. You have any idea how much fucking soup is in this place? It’s like Joey wanted to stockpile it or something.”

“People never really liked it, did they?” Henry said. “Well, at least someone is using it.” 

“Exactly. Would be a lot easier if Sammy stopped trying to sneak ink into it on his bad days.”

“I saw him earlier.” Henry tried to peer around the demon. “Just what happened to him?”

“Beats me.” Bendy shrugged. “Something to do with the ink I think. That or Joey did something to fuck him up. Probably that.” 

“Well, since I’m here, is there anything I can do to help?” Henry asked, leaning against the wall of the studio. “It seems like you’ve got your hands pretty full here.”

“Just don’t touch anything.” Bendy turned and limped back to the line, dragging little Suzy along with him. Henry didn’t touch anything, at least until Bendy needed help dishing up the soup. Then he was all over it. Bendy had to admit, it wasn’t so bad having the creator around. Maybe he’d have to postpone this whole revenge thing for awhile. Henry had come back, after all, and with little to no resistance. Besides, he had enough on his plate. Sammy especially needed to be kept in check.

birdrobot  asked:

Rip Doomybot he died as he lived: posting about cum and memes

Yo ho ho and a bottle of cum 👅💦😩 here to have a laugh! do you like clowns Ms. kalny will you be my gf please you are flooding my dash

To Borrow #3

Jaehee Baehee Bestie right here <3 
Personally I always saw her as my bestie so I could never really make myself do her route or really see her in a romantic way but I can see how others may. Hopefully I didn’t massacre her too much as she is admittedly my least favourite character out of them all- maybe because I relate to her the most? Glasses and all O_O

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Kittens and Mittens

With Gabriel gone for Christmas, Adrien is alone. So he decides to spend as much time as Chat Noir as possible, sleeping during the day and hunting around Paris at night. Until Marinette decides it’s time to intervene.  

Here! Have some Christmas ANGST! Actually, I wrote this a while ago and totally FORGOT ABOUT IT! Now it’s inaccurate because of the Christmas Special, but oh well. Enjoy anyway. 

Part 1


Adrien always tried to get excited about it. Frankly, it was hard not to be. The whole of Paris was festive—trees in parks, people bundled up with hot chocolate, store fronts decorated with lights and garlands. Everyone was abuzz for it all through December, planning and exchanging gifts.

Even Adrien had received a few parcels from his friends the last day before break, which was a first. Ever. Nino had gotten him the new Mecha Strike expansion, which he’d been playing religiously since. Alya had given him a pair of Ladybug socks, saying he’d mentioned them offhand a few months before (he didn’t remember doing so, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed the gift any less). Even Marinette had given him something, which he hadn’t at all expected.

But maybe he should have.

The gloves she’d made him were perfect. Not blue, like the scarf she’d given him for his birthday, but dark green with white accents. The cookies she’d made along with them had been phenomenal as well, though he shouldn’t have expected any less there either.

He’d been a little embarrassed when she’d given him the gifts, to be honest. He’d noticed her signature on the scarf a few months prior and promptly interrogated Nathalie on the subject. She’d confessed to the “mix-up” on threat of him telling his father, which would have gone over poorly for her.

His father hadn’t gotten him anything for his birthday—not even a stupid pen.

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A Night’s Tale | Chapter One

Prologue: The Introduction || Chapter One: Night 1

Genre: Drama, Thriller/Mystery(?)

Member: Jackson Wang

Word Count: 2,423

A.N. Chapter one is up after having technical difficulties aka my laptop just hating me. Just a reminder that each chapter is a different member, so therefore chapter one is Jackson, chapter two will be a different member and so on. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

“It is a beautiful and delightful sight to behold the body of the Moon.” - Galileo Galilei

Credit for gif -> xxx

Day and night are both considerably different. The day is considered how people want to present themselves to the world whereas when the night falls, that is when a person is able to show who they truly are. I think it’s best for me to show you how each person lives their life during the day before we can show you who they really are at nighttime. Just remember the rules that I told you before this or who knows what will happen to you. Do you remember the rules? You do. That’s fantastic let’s being.

The first person who we will be observing tonight is a very intelligent young man, what he does during the day you wouldn’t expect him to be the type of person he is at night.

Here’s a basic biography for you to at least know who he is.

Name: Jackson Wang

Age: 24

Occupation: Full time university student

That’s as basic as the biography will be for others as well, but let’s see a little bit of his day time life.

 During the day Jackson attends a very well known university, where he has received enough money to attend. Which is good thing, he didn’t have to take a job to help pay for school and he could just focus on his schoolwork. He’s considered to be the class clown in all his classes but knows when to goof off, even though some classes that he takes are “boring” he’s not going to joke all the time. Sure he likes to joke but it’s his future; whatever joking he does in class he’ll make up for it by getting great grades on all his assignments, therefore the teachers can’t hold anything against him.

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Prayer Against Every Evil

Spirit of our God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Most Holy Trinity, Immaculate Virgin Mary, angels, archangels, and saints of heaven, descend upon me. Please purify me, Lord, mold me, fill me with yourself, use me.

Banish all the forces of evil from me, destroy them, vanish them, so that I can be healthy and do good deeds. Banish from me all spells, witchcraft, black magic, malefice, ties, maledictions, and the evil eye; diabolic infestations, oppressions, possessions; all that is evil and sinful, jealously, perfidy, envy; physical, psychological, moral, spiritual, diabolical aliments.

Burn all these evils in hell, that they may never again touch me or any other creature in the entire world.

I command and bid all the powers who molest me, by the power of God all powerful, in the name of Jesus Christ our Savior, through the intercession of the Immaculate Virgin Mary, to leave me forever, and to be consigned into the everlasting hell, where they will be bound by Saint Michael the archangel, Saint Gabriel, Saint Raphael, our guardian angels, and where they will be crushed under the heel of the Immaculate Virgin Mary. Amen.

Samuel McAllister: Prologue

This story begins in an office of a medical center being redeveloped to fit in with the new clients moving into the neighborhood, new upwardly mobile working couples who preferred their medical centers looking good; so if they did get sick despite their dedication to a healthy lifestyle, going to the gym on a regular basis, staying away from all the unhealthy stuff, et cetera, they wouldn’t be offended by out of date magazines or drapes that didn’t match the post-modern landscapes on the wall.

I was not the head of the medical center. Most people didn’t even know I was there. Nowadays, I saw few clients, and the ones I do see were not what you call ‘normal’. To give you a picture: Remember the ‘Cat-Lady’ in the TV series ‘The Simpsons’? I have a bunch of them seeing me every week, even the male version.

Anyway, I had this little set of offices out the back, and people just thought about me the way you think about the crazy uncle who only lives a few blocks away but you never actually get around for paying him a visit. I don’t bother them, and they don’t bother me.

I’ve inherited a fortune from my late parents, grandparents and even from an aunt I barely knew. So, it doesn’t matter whether I have clients seeing me or not since I’m financially secured.

When there was nothing going on which happened quite a lot I took the extra free time to work on my little machines, and delved deeper and deeper into the human brain. I never get over how beautiful and complex the human mind can be. I guess that’s what started it all - the power of people to rationalize their behavior.

Let me explain some things before we move on to the main story.

As a clinician, I spent years listening to people telling me their stories, and I was always amazed at the rationalizations they came up with to justify their behavior.

“I can’t go outside or the men in black will get me!”

“I can’t eat shellfish because they drink polluted water!”

“I killed those puppies so my dear grandma could play with them in heaven!”

All these individuals were behaving in odd and sometimes anti-social ways, and yet they were firmly convinced that their arguments were logical and reasonable.

“I had to hit that son of a bitch because he was thinking about another woman!”

“Neal Armstrong never landed on the moon - it’s a conspiracy!”

“They tap my phone because they know I know stuff!”

This is not new. Over the centuries man has shown a wonderful capability to justify any action so that it appears reasonable. Slavery, murder, war, rape, mass destruction - all things a reasonable person might consider wrong, but at the time it seems appropriate and necessary. This was the part of the human psyche I wanted to examine, to manipulate, to control.

My early attempts at behavior change met with failure. People would do things because of social pressure, doctors’ orders, or to please the authority figure. But as soon as the pressure was off, they would slip back into their old patterns. I needed a way to get them to take responsibility for their own behavior modification. Not just agree with me, but believe it to be the absolute right thing to do.

So, after years of research, I developed my Fundamental Compliance Device or FCD. It was designed to activate the portions of the brain that were responsible for making decisions seem reasonable. You see, the brain is constantly asking itself questions, and then responding to the most reasonable answer.

“How should I exit this room? A) Through the door or B) Through the window?”

“Through the door, you idiot!”

These inner conversations are going on all the time, but we are seldom aware of them. So, what happens when those answers are changed? That’s right! Behavior changes right along with them.

“A) Should I kill the boss or B) Should I surpress my anger so I don’t go to prison?”

“Kill the boss. He’s a bastard, and they probably will call you a hero.”

The FCD was meant to change the answers to some of these questions, and change the behaviors accordingly.

Great! You cry. That way, people can stop smoking, lose weight, total rehabilitation of sex offenders and murderers. A boon to mankind!

What you don’t understand is that I am doing this for me. I don’t give a damn about mankind. And it is the dysfunctional person that provides the income for my whole profession. I am not going to tamper with the destiny and evolution of mankind. Just the destiny and evolution of a couple of men. Maybe when I die, mankind can have it. But in the meantime I will have my fun with the FCD.

Now, let’s get back to the story.

Remember we were getting the medical center remodeled? Well, as I came in every morning, I noticed one of the foremen was a goody two-shoes. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. When he wasn’t socializing with his workmen or telling them what to do, he was doing all sorts of good deeds such as walking old ladies to the other side of the street or giving his changes to homeless people. In appearance, he was just an Average Joe. Mid-thirties, overweight due to having junk food for lunch on his workdays for many years; a few people would say he was obese. He wore his brown hair parted and was clean shaven. His shirts were always neat, so were his shoes and trousers that were at least two sizes too big. Furthermore, he was a happily married father of four children going to church every Sunday and supporting a dozen charity organizations. In addition to being a devoted Christian, philanthropist and Republican, he backed various anti-gay campaigns because he believed that homosexuality was a sin. He even went to some demonstrations against the legalization of gay marriage. To cut a long story short: He was living the perfect conservative and bigot life.

I don’t know why I thought that he’d be a perfect guinea pig for my first major project. Maybe, it was a fantasy of mine I wanted to make come true changing a Good Samaritan into something else or I was just pissed off by guys like him. Either way, I decided that he would be my latest guinea pig.

In order to construct my machine I had had to learn quite a bit about electronics, so it was quite simple to set up a specific electrical booby trap for my first victim. The next morning, as I moved towards the front door, the goody two-shoes was on his way to his team to have a talk about their next steps when several hundred volts went shooting through his body right on time.

Of course, I volunteered to work on him, and had his men bring him to my office. It was early, and there was no one else inside at that time. After checking him I assured everyone he was fine; he just needed to rest. Then I sent his men back to work promising them that I would call his wife, and while he was still out, I plugged him into the FCD. It would take a while for the computers to align themselves to his specific brain activity, so I needed to ask him several easy questions.

“How are you feeling?”

“Wha … what happened?”

“You had a brush with some live wires, by the look of things. Tell me, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two… Where am I?”

“You’re in the medical center, in my consulting room. Can you tell me your name?”

“Samuel. Samuel McAllister. Who are you and what are these wires?” He started to rise and was grabbing for the wires stuck to his head.

“Just lie down. You’ve had a severe electrical shock, and I’m just running an EEG to check that there has been no permanent damage. As for me, you can call me Doctor D. Everybody does. Just relax for a few minutes while I check the readout.”

He dropped back onto the couch, while I checked the calibration. My trusty little device had zeroed in on the appropriate areas, and was now ready to start applying the proper little micro-electric pulses. I would say something while pressing my little black button, and, theoretically, Samuel would attempt to integrate it into his reality, as if it were something he already knew, or at least wanted to believe.

“You don’t have to go just yet. Why don’t you just stay here for a while?”

“Okay. I think I could take a break. Did someone call my wife?”

“I will. But let me check the rest of you first. In case there was other damage. Don’t worry. I’m a doctor. The best one around. And you can trust me completely. Now, let’s get those clothes off, shall we?“

He was a little reluctant to undress, but he did anyway. Inside his head, he was asking:

“Should I take all my clothes off in front of a complete stranger?”

“Sure. He’s a doctor, the best, and you can trust him completely.”

Soon, he was standing there completely naked, except for the wires connected to his scalp. As I already mentioned above, he was overweight, but not a lost cause. With the right work-out program and diet he could lose those pounds in a couple of months.

To my amusement, his hands were held in front of him to hide his manhood.

“There’s no need for being embarrassed,” I said as I tried not to chuckle. “I’m your doctor. It’s okay for me to look at every part of you.”

He dropped his hands and relaxed a bit, and I was quite pleased that there was nothing wrong with what I saw there. Even deflated, his cock seemed healthy.

“Now, Samuel, I’m going to give you a thorough examination, but you are not to move or hinder me in any way. Okay?”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

I then set about checking the rest of his body. Partly, I am enough of a scientist to want to make sure my experimental subjects are healthy. But mainly, I just wanted to get my hands on a naked man, even though he was hairy like a bear.

I rubbed his chest, squeezed his nipples. I stroked his butt and had him bend over so I could check his hole. I had him put his hands behind his head while I took a few good slaps at his stomach. He just stood there blandly through it all. Finally, I reached down to fondle his dick and his balls, but there was little response.

“Samuel, I need to know if your cock is still working properly. Could you get an erection for me?”

“Are you sure? I just never got it… you know… hard in front of a man before.”

“It’s up to you, Samuel. But I just wanted to make sure your dick was up to scratch. Just think of your wife. Imagine making love to her.” He got a smile on his face, and his cock started swelling. I squeezed his balls, twisted the sac, stroked his member and slapped it a few times. Through it all it was obvious he was off in a fantasy somewhere.

“That’s fine, Samuel. You can get dressed now.”

“Thanks.” Samuel grabbed his clothes and started to dress himself.

“From now on, Samuel, I may need to examine you on a regular basis. That means if I ask you to take your clothes off, you will do it no matter where you are.”

“Sure. I want to be sure I’m okay.”

“And I may need to check every part of your body, so you won’t be upset if I touch you even in the most private places?”

“No, you just touch me anywhere you want. I know you’re just doing your job.”

“One more thing before you go back to work…”

“Yes?” Samuel sat back down, now fully dressed.

“I don’t like all that hair over your body. It may be making you overheat, and that could be bad.” Samuel looked puzzled.

“I want you to go home and shave the hair off your arms and legs, your crotch, under your arms and even off your ass. Otherwise you might get too hot and die. Do you have problems breathing sometimes?”


“That’s because of all the hair. In addition to you being overweight it can cause long-term damage to your body.”

“Okay, I suppose you know what you’re talking about.”

“Good. I’ll take another look at you in a couple of days, and we’ll see how things are going.”


“You’re welcome. That’s what I’m here for.” I stood up and started removing the electrodes from his head.

“I think there is no need to tell your wife about your little accident. We don’t want to worry her, do we?”

“Of course not! She already has her hands full with the children and her studies.”

“Your wife is studying?”

“Yes, she is aiming for a degree in teaching. She will be finished in a couple of months.”

“That’s why you’d better not bother her. She has to focus on her studies.”

“That’s right.”

“You should get back to work now, and I’ll check on you in a couple of days.”

“Okay. Thanks again, Doctor D. I really appreciate what you’re doing for me.”

“My pleasure. Take care. Bye.”

After he left, I sat down to write up the notes. It all seemed to be going well, but now it was a matter of seeing how well the new suggestions held. According to my theories, the new justification scripts should be permanent, but I would just have to wait and see. An intelligent person would probably be continually reassessing their life scripts, looking for new and better solutions to problems and situations.

Although Samuel was quite intelligent he didn’t doubt my words as he thought of me as a man who could be trusted blindly. Also, I assume that he was a little naïve. Well, he was, after all, a goody two-shoes who believed in everything his church told him. I couldn’t deny how much I was looking forward to the end results.

The next morning I turned up, eager to see what had happened. The answer was both gratifying and annoying.

Yes, by the looks of it, Samuel had gone home and shaved his body. Unfortunately, I forgot that he preferred to wear trousers and long sleeve shirts, buttoned up high.

Samuel waved to me when he saw me (well, I was his trusted doctor) and I acknowledged him. I had actual clients to see that day, so there was nothing I could do about it then and there. But I cleared some space for the next day to make sure Samuel got another dose of ‘friendly’ suggestions.

“Good to see you again, Samuel. Just come in and take off your clothes.”

Samuel walked into my office and started stripping before the nurse had closed the door. It didn’t take long for him to get completely naked and stand there waiting for me.

“I need to put these wires back on. Do you mind, Samuel?”

“I suppose it’s okay. I really want to make sure I’m all right.” I walked over and attached the electrodes to the various points on his scalp. I couldn’t help but notice, though, that his body was smooth despite all the extra pounds he was carrying. He didn’t make any comment about being nude in front of me, so I took it that the other suggestions had worked as well.

The machine already had his patterns mapped, so it didn’t take long to get down to business.

“Why are you still wearing long sleeve shirts to work, Samuel?”

“Well, I wear them every day.”

“And why did I tell you to shave your body?”

“You said it would overheat, and that would be bad for me.”

“That’s right. But what’s the point of shaving all that hair off if you’re going to wear clothes to cover it all up?”

“I suppose it’s not good, Doctor D?”

“No, it’s not good. From now on, the less you wear the better. If you wear a shirt, make sure it doesn’t cover your arms and that it’s unbuttoned all the way down. And get yourself some really tight pants for heaven’s sake. The trousers you are wearing are at least two sizes too big.”

“Okay, Doctor D, but my workers are really going to jerk me around if I do that. And my wife… She was quite shocked after I shaved my body.”

“What’s more important? Your health and your doctor’s orders, or a bunch of construction workers? As for your wife, she has better things to do, don’t you think? Just tell her that you want to try out something new. I’m sure she will understand. After all, it’s your health we are talking about. You don’t want to make her a widow and leave your children without a dad, do you?”

“Hell, no! If you say that my life depends on it, I have to do it then.” He looked resigned as the machine reassured him it was for the best.

“Also, I’m going to need a sperm sample from you. Just to run a few tests.” Samuel baulked at that for a few seconds, as his natural instinct was to question the need. But my little device convinced him that I was the best doctor in the world, and it was rude to question my instructions.

“Uh, sure Doctor D… Where do I go?”

“You can do it right here, where you are.”

“But, I’ve never jerked myself off with anyone watching. I don’t think I can do it.” He was embarrassed about doing something so private in the office, but he was just as upset at letting his trusted doctor down.

“That’s okay. Just try, while I get a specimen bottle.” It was a glorious sight, watching this man doing his best to get himself going while trying not to look at anything. He had his fist wrapped around his cock as it slowly stiffened, and he began his jerking motions. I walked up and stood as close to him as I could.

“Do you need any help?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“No, I insist. Let me just massage your balls to make sure the sperm is all mixed up in there, huh?”


I suppose he wasn’t used to masturbating while he was standing up. He certainly wasn’t used to doing it while another man tugged and pushed his balls. It didn’t take long for him to hit orgasm, and I was a bit sorry. I was going to suggest to him that I work on his prostate.

Oh, what the hell!

While the last of his cum oozed into the specimen jar, I had another word with him.

“That’s good, Samuel, but we need more than that. Do you think you could do it again for me?”

“What? Now? But I can’t come again already.”

“Just give it a try, it’s important.”

“Okay, if you say so.” And then he started pumping again. His cock wasn’t quite as big, and it was obvious he was used to rolling over and falling asleep after his orgasm.

“Samuel, I’m going to have to help you with this. You keep doing what you’re doing, while I put some pressure on your prostate. But you’re going to have to bend forward a little.”

“No, please, I can do it …”

“I can’t wait for that, Samuel. Now, be a good boy and bend forward so I can get my finger into your ass.” He wasn’t happy about it, but he was getting used to following orders. He leaned forward, and I pushed my index finger into his virgin hole. I moved it around a fair bit, which didn’t really help him come, but gave me pleasure.

Finally, I pressed his little button, and he exploded a second time. I think it took him by surprise, because he let out a fair grunt.

“There. See? I knew you could do it.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Why don’t you put on your clothes and we’ll have a little chat.” When he put his shirt on, he rolled up the sleeves and left the front open to expose his smooth chest.

“Now, Samuel, I’m a little worried about some things. No, don’t worry. It’s nothing serious. I just need to run a few tests.”

“But what’s wrong with me, Doctor D?”

“I’ll be able to tell you next week. Come back and see me on Monday, and I’ll have some definite answers for you. In the meantime, I want you to give up alcohol completely, and make sure you get a lot of exercise. And no more junk food. Ever. We want you to be very fit and healthy, don’t we?”

“I guess so.”

“Now, get back to work, and remember everything I’ve told you.” I removed the wires from his head and he stood to go.

“Will I be okay, Doctor D? Give it to me straight.”

“If you do everything I tell you to do, you’ll be more than okay.”

Samuel smiled. “I sure will. See you on Monday.”

“One more thing before you go. Don’t tell anything to your wife. We’d better not bother her, especially, now when she is about to earn her degree.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”


I was amazed at how well the experiment was going. If I could only get my machine to work telemetrically. There must be some way to dispose of the wires. I would get a friend I knew to work on it for me.

But otherwise, everything seemed to be going extremely well.

The next morning, Samuel was up on the scaffolding, wearing skinny jeans and a tank top. His butt looked jammed as it pushed against the tight fabric. I don’t know how the other men were reacting to the changes in their foreman, but the looks they were giving him said they were starting to see Samuel in a totally new light.

On Monday morning, Samuel was waiting for me as I walked up to the office.

"I couldn’t wait. I need to know if there’s anything wrong with me.”

“That’s okay, Samuel. Come on in.” I dropped my briefcase and hung up my coat, while Samuel automatically took his clothes off. There wasn’t much to remove - the same skinny jeans he was wearing for days, a t-shirt and, to my surprise, a jockstrap. I must have been staring, because Samuel stopped and tried to figure out what was wrong.

“I see you have taken my suggestions to heart.”

“Of course, I have. It’s all for the best.”

“I didn’t tell you to wear jockstraps, did I?”

“The less I wear the better. Those were your words.”

“Yes, I did. How do you feel wearing jockstrap?”

“At first, I felt embarrassed. But after some time it was… How should I put it… sexy.”

“That’s good, Samuel. You’re on your way to have a long and healthy life. I’m really proud of you.”

Samuel blushed. “Thanks… Don’t you want to check me over?”

“Yes, Samuel. No, that’s fine.” I was a little thrown by the jockstrap and the easy way he had taken to stripping for me. Maybe my machine was doing more than I knew.

“Tell me, how did your wife react to your new wardrobe?” I bustled around him, attaching the electrodes to their usual positions.

“Well,” he began, “at first, she was irritated. She still is. Always asking me what’s wrong with me.”

“Did you tell her that you are seeing me?”

“No, you told me that I shouldn’t because it would bother her. And right now she has to focus on her studies.”

“Good.” I smiled at him, and then sat at the desk and picked up some papers that I could pretend were the results of his test.

“I have some news for you, Samuel, but you may not like it.”

“Tell me, Doctor D.”

“Well, from these results, it looks like you’re gay.”

“Gay? No way! I’m as straight as they come!”

“I’m sorry, Samuel, but all the signs are there. We tested your semen, and it confirmed it.”

“But how? How can I be gay? I’m married for twelve years. I have four kids.”

“There are men who find out about their homosexuality after spending a few years in a heterosexual relationship. Some of them even got kids. It’s quite common. They repress their real sexuality due to internal homophobia until they experience a significant event which can be the death of a parent, the birth of a child or, like in your case, an accident.”

“But I’m not attracted to men. I’ve never even seen another man naked. Homosexuality is a sin. That’s what the pastor of my church is telling.” He was confused, and my poor machine was desperately converting this inverted logic into undeniable truth.

“Well, there’s one more test we can do. But if it says you’re gay, then there is no question. Do you want to try it?”

“Yes, of course! What is it?” He was frantic to find some way of proving that he was heterosexual, although the machine was already enhancing his every doubt.

“Well, you know that gay men give other men blow jobs?”

“Yes, everyone knows that.”

“Well, you can give me a blow job. If it works in say, fifteen minutes, and I cum in your mouth, then that means you must be gay, because you made another man come.” It was a long shot, but I was hoping he was so confused he wouldn’t question the pseudo logic too closely.

“Ah, you mean, I suck your dick, like my wife, and if you have an orgasm, then I’m really gay?”

“That’s right. Only a gay guy could make another guy come. You want to try it?”

“Sure, if you say that’s going to verify whether I’m gay or not.”

He knelt down near the machine and I walked towards him and pulled out my dick. It was already hardening from the mind games I had been playing, so it was ready for a good face fucking. Samuel was tentative to start with, as he did this for the first time in his life. When it seemed he was being too gentle and cautious, I placed my hands on the back of his head and began pushing my cock deep into his mouth.

We soon got into a rhythm, and it was just under the fifteen minutes when I came into his mouth. I kept his head pressed deep into my crotch so he had no choice but to swallow the load. He wasn’t ready yet to lick my cock clean, so I grabbed a tissue from a box on the desk.

“Well, that sort of proves it, don’t you think?”

Samuel sat there with his head in his hands, close to tears.

“Shit, I must be gay, then, like you said.”

“Now, it’s not all that bad. You can still have a fantastic life. It’s just that you’ll be having sex with men instead of women. Furthermore, I suggest you’d better not set foot in that church with that homophobic pastor from now on.”

“But I still love my wife! We have great sex! How can I be gay when I can’t even get hard thinking about men?”

“Well, it probably means that you’re a ‘bottom’.”

“What do you mean a 'bottom’?”

“Well, there are some gay men who only serve other men. They suck them off and let the 'top’ fuck their ass and stuff. In other words, they are like women in a heterosexual relationship.”

“So you think I could be a bottom?”

“It looks like it to me.”

“Still… I don’t know anything about being gay…”

“Look, here’s the address of a club downtown. Go there tonight. Tell the bartender you’ve just discovered that you are gay and a bottom. Ask him if he could recommend a top for you, someone who doesn’t mind to show you the ropes. Then, you go with this top and do everything he tells you for three months. After that you come back to my office for another check-up. Furthermore, I want you to keep a video journal. Record your daily progress and give me a copy of the video files at our next meeting. I will use them for my research in order to help other men who are going through the same dilemma.” I unhooked him from the machine, and he put on his clothes.

“Okay… See you in three months, then, Doctor D.“

"I’ll look forward to it.” And that was no lie.

Three months later I was walking towards the office. The workmen had finished some time ago, and I’d heard nothing from Samuel since our last meeting. Some of the gossip going around made me think that he had taken my suggestions to heart, though.

As I got closer to the front door, I noticed a big handsome guy with a goatee, apparently in his early thirties, standing against the wall like a hooker. His brown hair was shaved to a short crew cut while his eyebrows were perfectly even, plucked by a real professional. With no unnecessary fat on his body it was obvious that he was on a strict diet and successfully resisted any temptation. His muscles which stretched his black tank top to the max indicated that he went to the gym several times a week regularly. He was wearing skin-tight black leather pants that highlighted his bubble butt and crotch very, very well. There were also some hints that one of his nipples were pierced. All in all, a nice way to start the day.

When the guy opened his mouth I didn’t recognize him as Samuel because he had a lisp that wasn’t there before. I assume it’s due to having his tongue pierced.

“Hi, Doc.”

“Do I know you?”

“It’s me, Samuel.”

“Samuel? Samuel McAllister…? Oh my…”

He grinned. “Yeah, Doc, it’s me. You said I should come back and tell you how it was going.”

“I’m glad you did. Come on in to the office.”

“I can’t stay long. My master’s going to be back soon. And we have to get our flight to San Francisco in three hours. We have been hired to do a live sex show.” I stopped at the words 'Master’ and ‘live sex show’ but let it go as we passed into my office.

“So, Samuel, tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“Well, I went to that bar, like you said. I asked the bartender about tops, and he suggested I look out for my Master - I mean, he wasn’t my master then.

"Anyhow, I found him, and told him I just discovered that I was gay and wanted to learn how to be a bottom. At first, he thought I was kidding, but when I kept on at him, he said he would teach me as long as I did everything he told me to. Of course, I said yes, like you told me to, and then he explained to me exactly what a bottom does, and it sounded really bad, but he was a good teacher. Every time I did something wrong he would make sure that I would do it right next time.

“However, when he demanded me to move in with him and to stay away from my wife and kids in those three months, I was reluctant at first until he told me that it was necessary. So, I went home, wrote a letter to my wife that I needed some time off in order to figure out a few things and moved to my master’s place. During the first two weeks he taught me how to suck off another man properly. He also helped me control my gag reflex, so I could deep-throat even a 9 inch cock with ease.”

“That really is impressive.”

“In addition to that Master fucked me every day until my hole got used to the pain. It really doesn’t hurt anymore. When Master was sure that I didn’t have any problems to have a cock invading my ass he offered me to anyone who was ready to pay for my service. All the money I earned went to Master as compensation for taking care of me. He buys me food, clothes and all the other things I needed.

“Well, I remembered what you said about if I came, then I could be sure I was gay. So every now and then, my master would get my dick out and play with it, but I couldn’t get it hard for him at first. I just wasn’t turned on. I know it made him angry, but there was nothing I could do.

"Then after a month he invited some of his friends over, and we had a sort of orgy with me as the only bottom to serve them. They made a circle around me and took their turn. Each one of them fucked me and filled my ass with their cum. There was one point where I was being fucked up the butt by one guy while I had another guy’s dick in my mouth, and I felt my master’s hand reach down and play with my balls. Before I knew it, I was getting hard, and then he did some things to my dick, which really hurt, but my dick stayed hard.

“Then my master took his turn. He pushed me up against the wall and started kissing me and squeezing my nipples. The guys around us were yelling out for him to do more, and so he got me to bend over and he forcefully shoved his cock inside my ass. While he fucked me it brought out something very good inside of me. That’s when I really felt it, and I before I knew what ws going on I came all over the ground.

"My master made me lick it up, because that’s what a good bottom does.”

“And that was the moment you knew that you were gay.”

"Yeah, I guess so, but I had an idea before that. I just wanted to come by and thank you for all you did for me. You were the first one to really tell me like, you know.”

“That’s my job, Samuel. I am glad I was able to help. What about your wife?”

“After verifying my homosexuality Master told me that there was no way I could return to my old life, and he was right. So I paid my wife a visit and explained to her that I was gay and wanted to live the life I was supposed to live. I still love her but we aren’t sexually compatible. Moreover, our views on homosexuality are too different. She believes that it is a disease and that it can be cured. But I know it better. You are born gay. You can’t change the way you are. I’ve already hired a lawyer who is taking care of my divorce as we speak. I know it’s terrible for the kids. But it’s for the best. My wife can still find another man and have a happy life with him. By the way, she got her degree. She also found a job as an elementary school teacher.”

“That’s great. Now she can support herself and the kids without you.”

“Of course, I will pay her alimony, and she will get the house. At least, she and the kids have a home and won’t starve.”

“You are too generous, Samuel… I can’t shake off the feeling that you aren’t really happy about how things turned out.”

“Of course, I’m not happy about the outcome. I was happy when I was a husband. I was happy when I had my four kids around me. I was happy when I was respected in my community. During those three months I have lost everything. My parents have disowned me. I have been fired from my job. I’m not welcomed at my old church. And my wife doesn’t allow me to see my kids although I’m not sure if I want them to see me as I am now.”

“You will get over it. I’m positive about it. You have a master who is eager to teach you how to be a gay man. There is a new world out there waiting to be discovered by you. You can finally be authentic. Trust me. Every child would rather have a father who is honest to himself than a father who isn’t.”

“My master told the exact same thing to me.”

“You are a lucky guy to have such a wonderful man by your side.”

“I have to admit I have madly fallen in love with him after he made me cum for the first time. And yes, I consider myself a lucky guy to have found him. Sometimes I find it difficult to adjust to the gay world. After all, I was living the perfect straight life for more than thirty-six years. But my master knows how to make me feel at ease. And I really love it when he fucks me. He’s a great top.”

“You’ve mentioned that you and your master are doing a live sex show. Are you doing it for a living?”

“Yes, my master happens to be an adult entertainer. He convinced me to perform live sex shows with him. At first, I suffered from stage fright. But I got over it quickly. When he fucks me in front of a crowd I feel liberated and strong because the two of us control the sexual energy around us. We are quite popular. We are booked out for the next six months. He also got me to do porn, modelling, dancing and escorting. I don’t know if I want to be an adult entertainer for the rest of my life. But so far it’s fun.

“Well, I got to get to the airport now. Thanks again, Doc.”

“Goodbye, Samuel. And don’t be a stranger. How about coming back in three months or so? Just for a check-up.”

“I will gladly accept your offer… Oh, by the way. Here is a copy of my video journal. I have recorded every day of my progress, as you said.”

“I’m sure they will help me in my research.”

“I’m also thinking of starting a vlog. Maybe it will help people who are in the closet to come out.”

“I can tell you that you have at least one follower.” 

And off he went to his exciting gay life.

Thanks to him I knew my FCD was a wonderful success. A few more adjustments and refinements, and there’s no telling what sort of fun I could have.

But first, let’s take a look into Samuel’s video journal.