would you mind sharing the names of the members of your new family with us

Harvey Weinsten sexually Harassed Lupita Nyong’o

Lupita: “I have been following the news and reading the accounts of women coming forward to talk about being assaulted by Harvey Weinstein and others. I had shelved my experience with Harvey far in the recesses of my mind, joining in the conspiracy of silence that has allowed this predator to prowl for so many years. I had felt very much alone when these things happened, and I had blamed myself for a lot of it, quite like many of the other women who have shared their stories.

But now that this is being discussed openly, I have not been able to avoid the memories resurfacing. I have felt sick in the pit of my stomach. I have felt such a flare of rage that the experience I recount below was not a unique incident with me, but rather part of a sinister pattern of behavior.

I met Harvey Weinstein in 2011 at an awards ceremony in Berlin, while I was still a student at the Yale School of Drama. An intermediary introduced him to me as “the most powerful producer in Hollywood.” As an aspiring actress, I was of course eager to meet people in the industry but cautious about strangers, and the intentions of men in general. So I tried to vet this famous producer by asking my dinner-table companions what they knew of him. A woman who was a producer herself cautiously advised me to “keep Harvey in your corner.” She said: “He is a good man to know in the business, but just be careful around him. He can be a bully.” And so I exchanged contacts with him in the hopes that I would be of consideration for one of his projects. I wanted to keep things professional, so I made a point of referring to him as “Mr. Weinstein.” But he insisted that I call him by his first name. In this first encounter, I found him to be very direct and authoritative, but also charming. He didn’t quite put me at ease, but he didn’t alarm me, either.

Not long after we met in Berlin, Harvey wrote to me inviting me to attend a screening of a film — a competitor’s film similar to one he had produced. He said we would be watching it with his family at his home in Westport, Conn., which was not far away from New Haven, where I was living at the time. He would send a car to pick me up. I accepted the invitation.

The driver and I met Harvey in the little town of Westport, where he informed me that we would be having lunch at a restaurant before getting to his home. I did not think much of this. It was a busy restaurant, and as soon as we sat down he ordered a vodka and diet soda for himself. I asked for a juice. Harvey was unimpressed with my choice and told the waiter to bring me a vodka and diet soda instead. I declined and said I wanted the juice. We went back and forth until finally he turned to the waiter and said, “Get her what I tell you to get her. I’m the one paying the bill.” I smiled and remained silent. The waiter left and returned with a vodka and diet soda for me. He placed it on the table beside my water. I drank the water. Harvey told me that I needed to drink the vodka and diet soda. I informed him that I would not.

“Why not?” I remember him asking. “Because I don’t like vodka, and I don’t like diet soda, and I don’t like them together,” I said. “You are going to drink that,” he insisted. I smiled again and said that I wouldn’t. He gave up and called me stubborn. I said, “I know.” And the meal proceeded without much further ado. In this second encounter with Harvey, I found him to be pushy and idiosyncratic more than anything.

We got to his home after lunch and I met his domestic staff and his young children. He took me on a brief tour of the house before he rounded us all up in the screening room to watch the film. He had just produced a similar film of his own, but everyone was raving about this rival version.

I settled in for the film, but about 15 minutes in, Harvey came for me, saying he wanted to show me something. I protested that I wanted to finish the film first, but he insisted I go with him, laying down the law as though I too was one of his children. I did not want another back-and-forth in front of his kids, so I complied and left the room with him. I explained that I really wanted to see the film. He said we’d go back shortly.

Harvey led me into a bedroom — his bedroom — and announced that he wanted to give me a massage. I thought he was joking at first. He was not. For the first time since I met him, I felt unsafe. I panicked a little and thought quickly to offer to give him one instead: It would allow me to be in control physically, to know exactly where his hands were at all times.

Part of our drama school curriculum at Yale included body work, using massage techniques on one another to understand the connection between body, mind and emotion, and so I felt I could rationalize giving him one and keep a semblance of professionalism in spite of the bizarre circumstance. He agreed to this and lay on the bed. I began to massage his back to buy myself time to figure out how to extricate myself from this undesirable situation. Before long he said he wanted to take off his pants. I told him not to do that and informed him that it would make me extremely uncomfortable. He got up anyway to do so and I headed for the door, saying that I was not at all comfortable with that. “If we’re not going to watch the film, I really should head back to school,” I said.

I opened the door and stood by the frame. He put his shirt on and again mentioned how stubborn I was. I agreed with an easy laugh, trying to get myself out of the situation safely. I was after all on his premises, and the members of his household, the potential witnesses, were all (strategically, it seems to me now) in a soundproof room.

Earlier Harvey had sent the driver to the store to buy a boxed collection of “The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency,” an HBO show that he had produced. This was the project he thought I would be right for, he said. (I later found out that the show had not been on the air for some time.) As I prepared to leave his home, he presented it to me. He wanted me to check it out and let him know what I thought. He would be in touch about it. I left for New Haven with his driver.

I didn’t quite know how to process the massage incident. I reasoned that it had been inappropriate and uncalled-for, but not overtly sexual. I was entering into a business where the intimate is often professional and so the lines are blurred. I was in an educational program where I was giving massages to my classmates and colleagues every day. Though the incident with Harvey had made me uncomfortable, I was able to explain and justify it to myself, and shelve it as an awkward moment. His offer to me to be a part of the HBO show was a very attractive one and I was excited about it, especially as I would be graduating in another year. I didn’t know how to proceed without jeopardizing my future. But I knew I would not be accepting any more visits to private spaces with Harvey Weinstein.

I decided to invite Harvey to come to a production I was in at school. Perhaps that way he would really see what I had to offer, and he would see my colleagues, too. He accepted the invitation, but the night of the production, he sent a message saying he had been caught up in New York and would be unable to attend. He would make it up to me. So when I received an official invitation to a staged reading of his new Broadway show, “Finding Neverland,” I was not surprised. I was still debating whether I should accept his invitation, and so I responded saying I was not certain that I could make it because of my school schedule. He responded with exactly the words I needed to hear: Come with whomever you want to come with. And so I invited two of my trusted male friends.

We attended the reading, and afterward Harvey invited us all to a restaurant for dinner with his comrades and collaborators. He sat me next to him, and another actress sat across from me. He had my friends sit at a different table. The talk was shop the whole time and Harvey held court with ease. He was charming and funny once more, and I felt confused about the discomfort I had previously experienced. I looked at the actress who I was informed had just worked with him on a project, searching her face for any sort of indication that she too had been made to feel uncomfortable by this powerful man, but of course I saw nothing. We did not stay very long because we had to catch a train back to New Haven. My friends had been equally charmed by Harvey. He knew when to turn it on if he wanted something. He was definitely a bully, but he could be really charming, which was disarming and confusing. I left feeling that perhaps he had learned my boundaries and was going to respect them.

A couple of months later, I received an email from Harvey, inviting me again to New York for a screening of “W.E.” After the screening, we would have drinks in TriBeCa. I then received a phone call from one of his male assistants to arrange my transportation. Feeling more confident about the new sense of boundaries that we had established in our last meeting, I attended the screening on my own this time. Afterward, as planned, his male assistant arranged for me to get to the Tribeca Grill, where Harvey would be joining us. I met a female assistant when I arrived there. I was expecting that it would be a group of us, as it had been for the reading, but she informed me it would just be Mr. Weinstein. She would sit with me until he arrived. She seemed on edge, but I could only imagine how stressful it was to work for a man who had so much going on.

Harvey arrived and the assistant immediately disappeared. We ordered drinks and starters. Again he was offended by my nonalcoholic beverage choice but he didn’t fight me on it as hard. Before the starters arrived, he announced: “Let’s cut to the chase. I have a private room upstairs where we can have the rest of our meal.” I was stunned. I told him I preferred to eat in the restaurant. He told me not to be so naïve. If I wanted to be an actress, then I had to be willing to do this sort of thing. He said he had dated Famous Actress X and Y and look where that had gotten them.

I was silent for a while before I mustered up the courage to politely decline his offer. “You have no idea what you are passing up,” he said. “With all due respect, I would not be able to sleep at night if I did what you are asking, so I must pass,” I replied.

His whole demeanor changed at that point. “Then I guess we are two ships passing in the night.” I had never heard that saying before, so I remember asking him what it meant. “It means just that,” he said. “We are two ships going in two different directions.”

“Yes, I guess we are.”

“So we are done here,” he said. “You can leave.”

We got up, having not eaten anything, and he led me out of the restaurant. My heart was beating very fast. A cab was hailed for me. I said I would take the subway (I could not afford a cab at the time), but he handed me some money and told me not to be silly, take the cab. Before I got in, I needed to make sure that I had not awakened a beast that would go on to ruin my name and destroy my chances in the business even before I got there.

“I just want to know that we are good,” I said.

“I don’t know about your career, but you’ll be fine,” he said. It felt like both a threat and a reassurance at the same time; of what, I couldn’t be sure.

I did not see Harvey again until September 2013 when I was in Toronto for the premiere of “12 Years a Slave,” the first feature film I was in. At an after-party, he found me and evicted whoever was sitting next to me to sit beside me. He said he couldn’t believe how fast I had gotten to where I was, and that he had treated me so badly in the past. He was ashamed of his actions and he promised to respect me moving forward. I said thank you and left it at that. But I made a quiet promise to myself to never ever work with Harvey Weinstein.

Not long after I won the Academy Award in 2014, I received an offer to play a role in one of the Weinstein Company’s forthcoming films. I knew I would not do it simply because it was the Weinstein Company, but I did not feel comfortable telling this to anybody. I turned down the role, but Harvey would not take no for an answer. While at Cannes, he insisted on meeting with me in person. I agreed to do it only because my agent would be present. In the meeting, he was honest about intending to persuade me to do his movie. I told him I simply did not feel it was a role I needed to play. He said he was open to making it bigger, more significant, maybe they could add a love scene. He said if I did this one for him, he would do another one for me — basically guaranteeing backing a star-vehicle film for me. I ran out of ways of politely saying no and so did my agent. I was so exasperated by the end that I just kept quiet. Harvey finally accepted my position and expressed that he still wanted to work with me at some point. “Thank you, I hope so,” I lied.

And that was the last of my personal encounters with Harvey Weinstein. I share all of this now because I know now what I did not know then. I was part of a growing community of women who were secretly dealing with harassment by Harvey Weinstein. But I also did not know that there was a world in which anybody would care about my experience with him. You see, I was entering into a community that Harvey Weinstein had been in, and even shaped, long before I got there. He was one of the first people I met in the industry, and he told me, “This is the way it is.” And wherever I looked, everyone seemed to be bracing themselves and dealing with him, unchallenged. I did not know that things could change. I did not know that anybody wanted things to change. So my survival plan was to avoid Harvey and men like him at all costs, and I did not know that I had allies in this.

Fortunately for me, I have not dealt with any such incidents in the business since. And I think it is because all the projects I have been a part of have had women in positions of power, along with men who are feminists in their own right who have not abused their power. What I am most interested in now is combating the shame we go through that keeps us isolated and allows for harm to continue to be done. I wish I had known that there were women in the business I could have talked to. I wish I had known that there were ears to hear me. That justice could be served. There is clearly power in numbers. I thank the women who have spoken up and given me the strength to revisit this unfortunate moment in my past.

Our business is complicated because intimacy is part and parcel of our profession; as actors we are paid to do very intimate things in public. That’s why someone can have the audacity to invite you to their home or hotel and you show up. Precisely because of this we must stay vigilant and ensure that the professional intimacy is not abused. I hope we are in a pivotal moment where a sisterhood — and brotherhood of allies — is being formed in our industry. I hope we can form a community where a woman can speak up about abuse and not suffer another abuse by not being believed and instead being ridiculed. That’s why we don’t speak up — for fear of suffering twice, and for fear of being labeled and characterized by our moment of powerlessness. Though we may have endured powerlessness at the hands of Harvey Weinstein, by speaking up, speaking out and speaking together, we regain that power. And we hopefully ensure that this kind of rampant predatory behavior as an accepted feature of our industry dies here and now.

Now that we are speaking, let us never shut up about this kind of thing. I speak up to make certain that this is not the kind of misconduct that deserves a second chance. I speak up to contribute to the end of the conspiracy of silence.”


I’m so happy Lupita shared her story and I have so much more respect for her and commend her for sticking by her morals. It’s disgusting that Harvey would even try something with her while his kids were in the other room, what a sick bastard

2

Compilation doodles + Name explanations for the OC kids in the YOI Future!verse ABO AU

^ Literally the above, because I thought WAY too hard about these for legit months (the twins were conceived in my mind back in DECEMBER and Arisa in January >.>;;) and I want to rant about my reasoning for all of them. :P

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IF YOU ARE NEW TO THIS AU: It’s Yuuri-centric polyamory in an ABO setting, Yuuri’s married to four mates (Victor, Yurio, Phichit, Minami) and the above are their kids.

BASICS of this AU

INTRO to how ABO works in this AU

OTHER POSTS (comics + illustrations) in the Future!Verse ABO section of my YOI Masterpost.

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Please keep ship bashing out of the comments/tags. Don’t like, just skip <3 Thank you.

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PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT PERMISSION. More detailed rules available on my Rules & FAQ Post.

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DISCLAIMER: I don’t know any Russian or Thai and my info comes from not-so-trustworthy Google-sensei though I did my best to triple check from multiple sources including non-English ^ ^; I am however native and fluent in both Japanese and English and also consulted a Japanese linguist regarding my kanji choices ^ ^; If I made any mistakes please be gentle, and also understanding that this is a low-stress self-indulgent near-crack AU >.>;;;

Onwards! vvv

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Do you want to share a list of fics that have made you cry? I'm in need of them. Thank you!

Oh anon, I love you. Thank you for giving me something to do. LOL! YES! I would LOVE to. I’m going to preface this with the fact that I cry VERY easily and for many reasons, but I don’t do well with SUPER heavy angsty fics (like the brain cancer fic) so, read this list with that in mind. And read the tags, just in case!

Fics That Made Me Cry

like a bastard on the burning sea by vashtaneradas

au; harry breaks louis, louis breaks everything.

the impossible now by stylinsoncity / @alienproof

A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction.

Take My Breath Away by @realitybetterthanfiction

There is a prestigious school in the British Royal Navy classified as Premier Delta - or as it is known by its flyers, 1D. These select pilots are an elite set of Naval lieutenants who are trained in the skill of aggressive aerial combat. They are instruments of war, trained in times of peace. They are dogfighters, relentless and fearless in their mission to protect their beloved country. From their lofty vantage, they are always watching, waiting, and ready to lay it all on the line.

Lt. Harry Styles, call sign Sparrow, is a prodigy when it comes to flying. The owner of an unrivaled Naval pedigree, being a pilot was always written in the stars for Harry. With his trusty RIO, Lt. Niall Horan, Harry has made an unprecedented ascension in the ranks of the Naval aerial combat elite, and has been recruited to the esteemed Premier Delta flight school, carrying on his family’s legacy. What he finds there are unexpected friendships, perilous challenges, and something beyond what he ever thought possible. Because as his father had always told him, before the great Captain Styles went tragically missing in combat, you don’t fall in love with the sky, you fall in love with what keeps you on the ground.

No One Does It Better by nodibs

Harry’s an alcoholic and Louis is a bartender. The first time they meet isn’t the first time they’ve met.

Tug-of-War by @cherrystreet

Louis’ husband dies suddenly and he is left with nothing. Well, not really nothing. He has Harry. And a St. Bernard puppy named Link, whom his late husband left behind for him. Louis takes care of Link and Harry takes care of Louis. Everything is okay until suddenly, it isn’t.

a grocery list pinned to blue by dangerbears

AU. after eight years, louis finally has everything he’s wanted. except for harry.

finding you was so hard (but loving you is easy) by togetherwecouldbealright

An incredibly shameless vampire!AU filled with stupid jokes, endless dates, flappy bird, a bro man dude pal sleepover thing and there also might be some sex in strange places.

Also known as the one where everyone is a vampire, Louis is oblivious and somewhere along the way it becomes a bit too much like Twilight.

Then a string of thoughts make themselves clear in Louis’ head. First, Harry is a vampire. Second, Louis is a dumbass. Third, Louis is also unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him. Fourth, he’s pretty sure he just quoted the back of the Twilight book.

I’ll Crash Until You Notice Me by stylinsoncity / @alienproof

Louis sets off to Barbados to oversee the massive resort his family owns known as Sandy Hill. For years, he’s been looking for a change in the monotony of his life, seeking adventure and perhaps love too. What he doesn’t expect is the bright eyed boy who spills a milkshake on his shoes.

Cue the summer loving.

Your Name is Tattooed On My Heart by mcpofife

Louis is ready to find the love of his life, but first he has to stop falling for the punk rocker next door.

210 Days by @cherrystreet

Harry is in the army and Louis is back in New York. Together, they get through Harry’s six month leave by sending a series of letters back and forth. They’ve done it before, and they can do it again.

And down the long and silent street by @whimsicule

The year is 1881 and if you’re alone in this world you might as well be dead, because starving dogs have no mercy.

Or: Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis’ past finally catches up with him.

Save your loving arms for a rainy day by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite

“What’s got your panties in a twist, then, pop star?” the man finally asked, his gaze returning to Louis’ face.

Something pressed against Louis’ chest and for a moment Louis let himself wonder what it would be like to let all his secret spill out. To fall into the space between them and be devoured by this stranger. Terror mingled with bliss, tangling into a sharp throb he had to swallow hard against.

“Absolutely nothing,” Louis said instead. “Happy days, yeah?”

The man clicked his tongue once, a disappointed, wet tetch that Louis felt. Actually felt.

“My mistake.”

Louis turned desperate eyes on him, blinking too fast. He could see his own lashes flutter. “I’m living the dream, mate” he said and even he could hear the way his voice cracked along the edges. “What would I have to be upset about?”

Or the one where Louis is a pop star who has lost his voice and Harry helps him find it.

Finding Lou by stylinsoncity / @alienproof

Louis is the nomadic stranger who wanders into Harry’s bookstore. Harry is the skeptic who falls for him.

things have gotten closer to the sun by starseas

it’s strange, making the choice to face his past—it almost feels like he’s heading for the sun straight on, like he’s screaming come on and burn me, i deserve it.

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when a solar flare is announced to end the world in twelve days, harry reunites with the people that he used to know better than the back of his own hand.

Gods & Monsters by velvetoscar / @mizzwilde

The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that’s exactly what he did.

I really want to include Where Your Heart Is, because it’s one of my favorite fics, but it’s been deleted. I haven’t read Fire for A Heart because it’s TOO much for me to read MCD, but I’m sure it would make you cry. It’s also been deleted, but if anyone wants either of them, you can download them from here

Writing daily-life stuff in Japan: Food

Considering how much fanfiction gets written set in Japan. I thought I might just share some daily life details that may or may not be useful. 

This comes from my own experiences of living in a bicultural household and living in the country for about a month every year of my life. Admittedly, I’ve only lived in a deep rural area and visited cities, but some of the pointers will still be relevant.

The first thing that come to mind when you’re trying to describe another place is to get to grips with the food culture.You know the saying, ‘To know a people, know the food that they’d willingly consume’? So, for this post, I’m going to talk about food details.

1. Food that you might have in the fridge: Old rice if you made rice in bulk + various rice toppings. Think of rice as the bread, and the fridge being full of the spreads you could put on it. 

Pickles: Might not be so popular with the younger generation, but if they live with their parents, there will bound to be at least one kind of pickle in the fridge, because there are speciality pickles for almost every prefecture and you cannot escape them. In the same way as spreads, they usually taste very strong and its rare to eat them as they are, unless they’re just that tasty and you like pickles that much (think of somebody eating peanut butter with a spoon straight out of the jar). You would eat pickles with white rice. Here are three examples: Umeboshi - pickled plum, and it is sour and very salty! You can suck on stone for minutes afterwards, just savouring the salt taste. Usually one plum is sufficient for one bowl of rice. Takuwan - a smelly, giant horseradish pickle, which might look a bit yellow with age. When you see giant horseradishes drying in the sun around the back of the house, this is probably what they’re going to be made into. Rakkyo - little pickled onions. 

Other toppings: Shirasu - tiny little white fish, each fish is about two centimetres long, and you sprinkle (or heap them, if you really like them) over rice. Delicious. Again, may not be popular with the younger generations who have grown up accustomed to more Western flavours.  Gohandesuyo - seaweed paste in a jar. It’s salty like Marmite and like Marmite the name of the food is the name of the brand. You put a tablespoon or so on one bowl of rice. 

Spring onions. We are never out of spring onions. Ever. Chopped up fine.

Sauces: Soy sauce, mirin, su (rice wine vinegar), yakiniku sauce (sauce specifically for yakiniku), mayonnaise, yakisoba sauce, ketchup, mustard in a tube, wasabi in a tube.

A tub of miso: of which there are red and white variants, and there is constant family clash over which tastes better!

If the household eats bread, you’re more likely to get a vegetable oil spread than butter. I think a few years ago there was a butter shortage. It was just too expensive to buy or not on the shelves, but there were so many different brands of vegetable spread made from different flower seeds! 

Egg is a fridge staple. If you’re in doubt and you need a quick breakfast or lunch, you could crack an egg raw over hot rice, spritz a dash of soy sauce on top, shovel it down and go.

Natto - fermented beans, its sticky and when you pull it apart it stretches with sticky web-like strands just like melted cheese. It’s famously an acquired taste but I love it on rice, in curry and in miso soup. Sold in wee cups, with sachets of sauce and mustard.

Also in the pantry: Katsuobushi - tuna flakes, often used to make tuna stock; Stick dashi - powdered stock, usually seaweed or tuna; wakame - seaweed; ginger; taka no tsume - dried hot chilli peppers, prettily named ‘hawk talons’; sesame seeds; sesame oil. Furikake - literally, ‘sprinkles’ for rice, when you have no other option. Maybe tofu. Panko for frying things. Golden curry roux blocks. Cream stew insta-kits.

Instant foods: Cup ramen, cup noodles, instant ramen, instant yakisoba, freeze-dried instant soups, instant corn soup.

The primary oil used for cooking is so-called ‘salad oil’: I don’t actually know what it’s made of, but it’s a vegetable oil of some kind.

2. Where I might buy food: Supermarkets for the fruit, veg, meat and fish, but for the best read-made fare, drinks and snack foods (kashi pan, onigiri, yoghurt, and depending on where you go there might be salads and bentos), you would head to a 24/7 open convenience store (e.g. Seven-Eleven, Lawsons’), where they also might do hot steamed pork buns and, lately, really good coffee to go. If you want to buy somebody a nice cake or box of tea-time sweets as an omiyage you might go to the basement floor of a department store. 

Vending machines - there is a vending machine everywhere. I am not kidding. Even in the deep countryside, I found a couple of vending machines up a mountain which smelled as if they had been scent-marked by raccoon dogs and bears. And at these vending machines, you can not only buy cold juice, but several different kinds of hot and cold Japanese teas, a very sweet milk tea, several different brands of hot and cold coffees, corn soup, potato chowder, hot shiruko (a sweet azuki drink), hot chocolate, hot and cold lemon…You’d honestly never go thirsty.

For sushi, we’d call up a sushi restaurant. The same goes for ramen. Unless you’re using an instant ramen kit, making ramen broth is hard. The tonkotsu variant is pretty much impossible at home. Likewise, you just can’t make good sushi at home. It’s not really a family meal or something that can be casually made. Typically sushi is brought out for celebrations or special occasions as it can be quite pricey but conveyor belt sushi places are more accessible.  

3. Bread: You will find white bread (fluffy, gorgeous, pillowy white bread, that’s basically like cake) but it’s really difficult to find brown bread. In the rural supermarket, it was non-existent and for bread with a crust, you’d have to go to the little street-corner artisan bakeries.

On the topic of bread and kashipan, I’ve often seen references in fanfiction of characters baking kashipan for each other, or kashipan just like their grandmother made it (e.g. anpan, melonpan, creampan). As much I like the sentiment behind these scenes, I’m not saying they’re impossible, but in most cases they are a little jarring. 

Our grandmother’s generation were not bakers. Most of the houses that our grandmothers grew up in did not have ovens, since Japan doesn’t have a tradition of domestic baking, and even now, a lot of houses still don’t have ovens aside from a nifty little oven toaster, Cakes and kashipan were seen as Western and trendy luxuries to be eaten at cafes (a Western import in itself) or bought from specialist shops which had the equipment to make them. They weren’t ‘casual home-cooking’ so to speak, even if the history of the anpan and the castella date pretty far back into the past now. 

Even now, unless you are a massive kashipan fanatic and dessert-making enthusiast, you probably wouldn’t bake a tray of kashipan at home when you could buy them perfectly made from a nearby convenience store. 

Having said that, I have tried making anpan in an oven toaster. I made six, since that was all that could fit on the little toaster tray. They were each about 6cm in diameters, and my grandmother complained that it was a waste of perfectly good azuki. 

You can, if you’re really into dessert making, make lots of things in an oven toaster, but if you’re looking to make something sentimental just like your grandmother made them, mochi might be a better option (e.g. warabimochi or ohagi), or maybe since sweet things historically tended to be more often bought from a specialist than made at home, quote a favourite wagashi that grandmother might have enjoyed from a particular shop e.g. the anko dama and imo youkan from Funawa; the chestnut manju from the shop by the station.   

4. Omiyage: If you go away on a trip and you’re inconveniencing work colleagues with your absence (which you are), this is the souvenir that you buy to take back and share at your work place, often a food item, so boxes of sweets are often packaged in such a way that the sweets inside are individually wrapped for ease of splitting distribution. 

This is also the word used for the gifts you bring back for family, either when you’re visiting relatives and you know that you will be encroaching upon their hospitality, potentially inconveniencing them, or if you’re coming back to the family and, in a way, again, it’s to make up for any inconveniences that might have been caused by absence  -although largely for family, it’s also about the joy of giving to those you care about!

Likewise, students who go away on holiday on a trip might bring back omiyage for fellow members of their club, if they’re involved in club activities. If you think of club activities as training children up for work place social structure and customs, it makes some sense. 

Not omiyage but an example of gift-giving, but if you move into a new neighbourhood, it’s usually expected that you visit your neighbours and take round gifts, as a gesture of courtesy and goodwill. There is, again, an element of asking forgiveness for inconvenience, because moving into the new home would have made a lot of noise and possibly caused a disturbance. 

With omiyage in mind, each prefecture tends to advertise certain foods/sweets that are ‘unique’ to it that would make suitable omiyage. A famous example would be ‘Tokyo Banana’ and anything matcha from the Uji area in Kyoto. 

5. Food is seasonal: Japan is hyperconscious of its seasons, so the fridge will likely contain seasonal fruits and veg. In a lot of Japanese poems, it was traditional to include a ‘kigo’, a word that encodes a season to set the poem in without explicitly saying ‘It is winter’, and some fruits are kigo. The persimmon is a kigo for autumn, peaches and cherries and plums for spring, and more recently the watermelon is a definite kigo for summer! Seasonal fruits also make good gifts for visiting friends’ houses, especially if you’re bringing them back from the countryside after visiting relatives. 

Autumn’s a great time for food. Now is the time when all of the mushrooms are coming out - shiitake, matsutake, enoki, shimeji - and they’re dried and preserved for the year. People who cook might have dried shiitake in the pantry for rehydrating and eating or using in stock. 

Foreign brands, aware of the seasonal sensitivity of their Japanese, often produce Japan only seasonal limited products. My favourite example of this is the Haagen-Daaz flavours. One autumn there was a pumpkin and cinnamon, and I’m pretty sure I saw a cherry blossom latte at Starbucks.

6. Food you might see at festival stalls: Taiyaki - fish-shaped pastries made with a pancake-like batter and filled with custard or azuki. Yakisoba - fried noodles. Yakitori - chicken skewers. Takoyaki - octopus batter balls. Hot dogs…With a shout-out to very rare diversity my local festival had a Turkish kebab stall last year. Kakikoori for the summer festivals - sweet ice, with typical syrups being red, green and yellow (strawberry, melon and lemon flavours respectively).

 …..and that’s enough for now I think. (21/9/2016)

Dirty Laundry

Pairing: Y/N/College!Badboy!Ashton

Rating: NC-All

Request: No

Words: 6.000+

Summary: Y/N has freshly started college and safe to say struggles living on her own. She doesn’t know how to wash her own clothes so she seeks hide at the laundry community room in the late hours not expecting someone else to be there as well. 

Keep reading

A Flower’s Path

GIF Credit to: @ygo-gx

Pt. 2 | Pt. 3

Pairing: Ban Ryu (Do Ji Han) X Reader

Genre: angst, coming-of-age, slight!romance

Word Count: 2,584

Request: Hi! For the Hwarang scenarios, what about one where you are a great enough fighter that you are asked to be the ONLY female hwarang (but against your will). Once inside, Ban Ryu is constantly complaining about how you shouldn’t be there and how it’s a disgrace for a woman to be in the Hwarang house. The two of you keep bashing heads bc even though you didn’t want to be there, you weren’t going to take that from him. Once the princess gets there she gets jealous that most of the hwarang gets close with the female hwarang and tries to get rid of her. - @starbooks13


Your hands’ grip slowly tightened on the big wooden stick. Standing ground and focusing on your opponent, you lowered the stick enough so that it pointed at your enemy. New beads of sweat formed on your face. Inhale. Exhale. You smirked, full of confidence. Ready.

You let out a yell, striking a blow on the left shoulder, right shoulder, stomach, and then the shoulders again. Your rival refused to move, only dust flying out of him.You dashed around, dodging for any incoming attacks and taking chances of your own to get hits. Loud rhythmic sounds could be heard from your stick coming in contact with the surface again and again. The amount of energy you used up showed when you found yourself starting to breathe heavily. “Miss (Y/N).” A familiar soft female voice of your personal servant caught your attention. You immediately stopped beating the dummy and brought the stick down to your side.

Turning around to face her, you noticed once again that the woman could not have been but more than a few years older than you. There was still some youth in her face, but she mostly look tired, probably from working for so long. You remembered her being there by your side since you were a little girl. “Yes, Soonja. What is the matter?” you asked.

“Your father insists you stop practicing your martial arts for today and dine with him for dinner now,” the servant answered, bowing her head low. “He also wishes to discuss some important things with you.”

“What does he wish to discuss with me?” You slid your stick back into your weapon rack that also included your spear, sword and knives.

“I am not sure, Miss (Y/N). He just wants me to let you know that it is an important conversation, so he is hoping that you won’t skip dinner to practice.”

You smiled. “Thank you, Soonja. Please allow me to clean up as best as I can before we go see Father.”

When you stepped into the dining room, you found the round table filled with lots of food. It was sort of funny because meals usually meant just you and your father eating. “Good evening, Father. How did the meeting with the officials go today?” You took a seat across from the old man. His gray hair tied into a bun. Though his demeanor looked quite rough at first, your father also seemed quite gentle at times.

He was a True Bone. Quite high in the bone rank system, he was of royal blood and worked as an official for the Royal Family. Since you were his daughter, you were of royal blood as well. “Some of the other officials were beginning to feel doubtful about the Hwarangs and their impact on changing Silla for the better,” your father expressed as you picked up a sweet and sour mushroom from a dish and ate quietly. “A few of the officials are worried about their sons who are part Hwarang as of now. They fear that instead of helping to protect the future king, that the young men will become dogs to the queen.”

“Her Majesty has been on the throne for so long,” you agreed, giving a nod. “She still has some control of them. I have a friend whose brother is a Hwarang. She says that they’re having trouble getting along as some are for the queen and some are against. The males are so focused on their ranks among each other that they hardly train their martial arts and performing arts skills. So much for elites…”

“How do you feel about the formation of the Hwarangs, (Y/N)?” your father asked, placing down his silverware. You did the same, putting down your spoon. You tried to read your father’s eyes to see if he genuinely wanted an answer, and when he continued waiting on you, you sighed.

“I wouldn’t want to be a part of a group like that.”

“Why not? Your fighting skills are impressive. Even though I disapproved of you doing martial arts at first, I’ve come to see that you’re talented in that area. You would’ve made a great Wonhwa.”

“Father,” you frowned. “both leaders of Wonhwa died.”

You started to feel the topic of the conversation dissipate and began lifting up your spoon again to eat when realization hit you. The utensil was placed on the table once more. “Wait… Father, does this have something to do with an important discussion you wanted to have with me?”

“Her Majesty and I have come to an agreement that Hwarang could use someone like you.”

You froze. A heavy weight set on your shoulders, and your stomach started to twist, ruining your appetite. “You don’t even like the queen…”

“But I respect the Royal Family. I also want the best for Silla. The king has not shown his face in years. We are not sure of what he can or can’t do as a ruler of the kingdom. I support our king, and I feel that it would be an honor for you to serve and protect him, (Y/N). Do you understand me?”

“I do, Father, but I don’t want to do this. Hwarang? My fighting skill is just a hobby. It’s also used to protect myself and the people around me, but nothing more than that. I don’t want to risk my life.”

“(Y/N),” your father said in a stern voice, and you knew he was serious about that decision.

“Besides, Hwarang already had their admission ceremony. They’re most likely not accepting anymore members. Hwarang is a group of young elite males. I’m a lady… Please don’t make me join.”

“Keeping your skills as a hobby only is pathetic. You can put those skills to greater use. As for Hwarang being only for males, you will be an exception. Her Majesty adores strong young women, and the chief instructor has also allowed you to stay in Hwarang House with your own small room.”

“You’re not listening to me, Father. I don’t want-”

“Almost all of the officials have a son who excel in sword fighting or literature. Meanwhile, I’ve raised a daughter all my life. I have heard people badmouthed me and you and how you’re only good to be married off to…”

You tried to speak up almost interrupted him, but knowing that arguing with your father would not help with your decision, you remained silent. At this point, you knew there was no way you could win.

“I know that you don’t mind being talked about to like that,” he continued, “but I do not approve of a True Bone’s royal blood being spoken about that way. My daughter is special, and if she doesn’t want to be seen that way, then she’s just going to have to continue living with it because she will be escorted to the Hwarang House tomorrow morning to stand next to the other elites.”

Tomorrow morning?! Already?! Feeling unfairness, your eyes began to burn with incoming tears, but you held them back. “Yes, Father. My apologies for trying to talk back.” You bowed your head down, and your father picked up his silverware and resumed his meal as if nothing happened.

Like your father said, when you headed out the next morning, you found a tall, handsome male dressed in Hwarang uniform waiting for you on a horse. Another horse without a rider was right beside him. “Miss (Y/N),” the male greeted. “My name is Ji Dwi, and I have been assigned to escort you to the Hwarang House.”

You hurried to climb on the other horse and then looked over to Ji Dwi. He cracked a smile which confused you. “My apologies, Miss (Y/N),” he said, an amused look in his eyes, “you just don’t look all that excited.”

You grinned the most sarcastic smile you could muster. “Better?” Then, you showed an honest laugh. “I’m sure you didn’t imagine a female Hwarang, either, huh? Please just call me (Y/N).”

The two of you whipped the reigns lightly so that your horses could make their way back to Hwarang House. “I think it’ll be interesting to have you,” Ji Dwi replied. “I didn’t imagine there would ever be a lady who was spectacular in fighting. It’s as impossible as the king living in the Hwarang House, disguised as a Hwarang.” He glanced over at you again and shared a playful smile.

It was not long until you reached the home of the Hwarangs and found the chief instructor as well as his assistant instructor waiting on you. Being a gentleman, Ji Dwi helped you off of your horse. “Thank you,” you told him before walking over to the chief instructor.

The chief instructor hummed, observing you. “Why, you must be (Y/N). I am Chief Instructor Wi Hwa. It is our pleasure to have you. Hopefully, you were able to get acquainted with my nephew on your way here.” When he gave you a short bow, you returned a deeper one.

“Ah, Ji Dwi is your nephew? I didn’t know that. I was wondering which family he belonged to as I’ve never met him before.”

“He lived overseas,” the old man affirmed. He then nodded his head over at his nephew, and Ji Dwi headed back into the Hwarang House. The chief instructor then held out his hand in the direction of the building. “I will be happy to show you around and answer any questions you may have, (Y/N).”

You paid attention to the view of your new residence as you listened to the chief instructor guide you through the area. You didn’t spot any other elites around, probably because they were having lessons or something. Beautiful flowers were grown in all of the green grasses, pleasing your eyes. The walls were painted of a rich, bright red and some gold. You soon found out ways to important places such as your own room, the bathhouse (you were assigned a different time from the other Hwarangs, of course), the dining room and the area where the young warriors practiced their fighting skills. It was nice, but you still felt quite uneasy about being here.

“Do you think it is strange,” you said, staring ahead at scenery, “that even though I know how to fight, I don’t want to be a fighter at all?”

Chief Instructor Wi Hwa glanced over at you and then forward, sharing the same view as you. “Your father told me, and I can understand why you’re like that. You probably feel like a pawn in Her Majesty’s hand. Please think of this as another path you have to take in life.” He began to move, and you followed right next to him. “Here, I can guarantee your growth, just like these flowers. Though you seem to agree that women should not be seen fighting, I disagree. Embrace that part of you - your natural combat skills like the earthy soil, your soft, yet intense beauty like the waves of water, and your bright character like the sunlight - and you will be strong enough to stand on your own. Maybe, you’ll even start to discover more of yourself here, among the other Hwarangs.”

Before you knew it, you found yourself inside of the household and in front of the doors. You heard chatters inside, and for some reason, your heart started to pick up more beats per minute. Chief Instructor Wi Hwa opened up the doors, and when eyes turned to him and then you, the room became silent.

The boys bowed, and the chief instructor nodded. You walked behind the old man when he started toward the center of room, walking up the steps to higher platform. You dared not to make eye contact with anyone. Only when the man next to you cleared his throat did you glance up. Handsome men in the same elegant uniforms stared at you, a few in a way different from others. Some were in confusion as if they could not believe you were there, and a few in awe, having heard rumors of your arrival but still could not take your presence in. You recognized a few faces.

“There is someone I would like to introduce you all to…” the chief instructor began.

You spotted Ji Dwi who you met in the morning. He smiled which calmed your heart down a bit. Then, there was Soo Ho. You only ran into him a few times when your father met with his, and the two brought up how both of their children excelled in sword fighting. Also, you’ve seen him when he was dating a few of your friends. He gave you a charming smile, as expected of someone who’s been around a lot of women.

You easily found Yeo Wool. His feminine features caught your eye. You heard about his family from your father, and even found Yeo Wool once at Okta. It was embarrassing for you to admit it, but you quite envied his beauty. He had an amused smile on his face. Right next to him was Han Sung. You knew he didn’t like to fight, so you wondered why he decided to join Hwarang. Maybe it had something to do with him being the last True Bone of his family. There was a twinkle in his eyes, and his mouth was slightly ajar. You couldn’t help but smile at his cute reaction.

“(Y/N) will be joining as the only female Hwarang. It is an executive decision made by the queen and myself. (Y/N) is amazing fighter. Even better than most of you,” Chief Instructor Wi Hwa said, muttering the last part to himself. “We believe that she will be a great addition to Hwarang. As I expect you all to treat each other with respect, getting rid of Silla’s bone rank system in the Hwarang House, I want you all to do the same to Jung Young Sik’s daughter. Understood?”

“Yes!” the boys replied in unison.

“Good.” The chief instructor turned to you. “Please head to the physician’s room. Miss Ah Ro has sewn you a uniform that is similar to theirs. After you’re dressed appropriately, you will return to this room and continue the rest of the day with these boys.”

You turned around and began to head down the stairs when a clear, loud voice spoke up. “Wait.” The short hairs on your arms raised from the chill.

Chief Instructor Wi Hwa responded. “Yes. Ban Ryu.”

Your body rotated to where Ban Ryu stood. You have never spoken to him, only heard about him sometimes from your father. Soo Ho might have mentioned once to stay away from Ban Ryu. You were very aware of their rivalry. His face was striking, but at the same time quite intimidating. You had a bad feeling about his next words.

“I don’t believe that she should be here. She doesn’t belong in the Hwarang House. It is a disgrace.”

I don’t know about disgrace… You frowned.

“You said it yourself Chief Instructor, Wi Hwa, that you wanted to form Hwarang with the capital’s greatest male elites. She is a woman. If she is the daughter of an official, then she should be taking on duties of a woman, preparing for marriage. Furthermore, if you accept her, it will be unfair as we already had the ceremony. What if the officials whose son didn’t make it get upset?” Ban Ryu glanced in your direction, a dirty look. “It’ll be all her fault.”

(Note: This is the part 2 of the interview. To read part 1, click here.)

Stephen Anderson began his career at Disney as a storyboard artist on Tarzan. He then served as Head of Story on The Emperor’s New Groove and Brother Bear, before making the leap to director on Meet the Robinsons.

So how did Stephen first hook up with Disney, and how many Meet the Robinsons-related anecdotes can I squeeze from his brain? Let’s find out in the second part of our EXCLUSIVE three-part interview…


Part 2: Working at Disney


The Disney Elite: You started your career at Disney as a storyboard artist on Tarzan. How did that come about?


Stephen Anderson: I got to Disney through a colleague at Hyperion. I became friends with Kevin Lima, who came to Hyperion to direct a feature adaptation of Thumbalina. His co-director was Chris Buck, who had been my animation teacher at CalArts. I helped out on that film as much I could because I loved the idea and I loved working with those two. Eventually the project got shelved and those guys left. Kevin went to Disney and directed A Goofy Movie and after that, Disney wanted him to direct Tarzan. He chose Chris Buck as his co-director and so, because of those connections, I was able to become a part of their story team on Tarzan. We’ve all heard that cliche about how so much of success is who you know? This was a perfect example of that.





The Disney Elite: After working in Story on Tarzan, The Emperor’s New Groove and Brother Bear, you made the leap to director on Meet the Robinsons. Would you explain how you made that huge transition?


Stephen Anderson: First off, the only thing I wanted to do more than be an animator was to be a director. In fact, directing (and screenwriting/filmmaking in general) really took over the older I got. As a teenager, I started seeing more diverse kinds of movies, learning about filmmakers, reading about how movies are made, about screenplay structure, about what a director is, and I grew to love the idea of moviemaking. It was really the films of Steven Spielberg that changed my path and made me want to be a director. First off, the level of emotion and audience reaction that I saw and felt when I watched his films was something I wanted to be able to give to an audience someday. Loving his films then made me want to learn more about him so through reading articles and interviews and watching ‘making of’ specials, I decided that that’s what I wanted to do. So this was always the goal beyond the goal.


After Tarzan, I became interested in pursuing the Head of Story role and was fortunate to be asked to fill that role on Groove and on Brother Bear. I had asked, before Brother Bear, if I could be considered for a directing position in the future so we were already having that conversation. Since I’d been performing leadership roles, they were open to the idea. I helped develop a project for the studio on the side, during the last year of Brother Bear, with the thought that if it continued, I’d be the director. It did NOT continue. I finished Brother Bear, moved back to California (because we had to relocate to Orlando for that project), and was then handed a script for A Day with Wilbur Robinson





The Disney Elite:Meet the Robinsons was one of Disney’s early entries into CG animated features. While Pixar had already released such brilliant films as Toy Story, Toy Story 2 and The Incredibles, over at Disney there was just Dinosaur and Chicken Little. Was Meet the Robinsons always intended as a CG film, and were you at all nervous and/or hesitant about making it one?



Stephen Anderson: Boy, the memory is getting hazy but, as far as I can remember, MtR was always intended to be a CG feature. Yes, in fact I remember that while I was still on Brother Bear, the announcement was made that the studio was transitioning out of hand drawn. I was slightly anxious about doing CG just because it was something new I had to learn on top of already trying to learn how to be a good director. But to me, the creative stuff is always the biggest challenge and the thing that occupies my mind most of the time. Disney has the best people in the world so I’m always confident that the movie will look good, sound good, etc. And I was lucky to have such great artistic and technical leadership surrounding me. I trusted them to help me out if I was confused or uncertain about the technology. They all gave me a boot camp in computer animation at the beginning so I felt like I had a pretty good foundation starting out and I felt safe asking about anything I didn’t know.





The Disney Elite: Meet the Robinsons was the first of Disney’s CG films that made me think, “Now THIS is the perfect pairing of film and format!” The slick, shiny surfaces of the CG at that time really served to complement the futuristic, retro/moderne look of your film. Not only that, but while Pixar was aiming more and more for a photorealistic approach to their animation, your cartoon was, well, CARTOONY! And not just the backgrounds and characters, but also the animation itself. For a relatively early CG film, you got some gorgeously goofy character animation in there! If you wouldn’t mind, would you make a list of the films – animated or otherwise – that you used as inspiration for Meet the Robinsons?


Stephen Anderson: Well story-wise, we looked at the movie You Can’t Take It With You. It’s also about an eccentric family with quirky personalities and passions. Bill Joyce, the author/illustrator of the book that MtR is based on, told me that You Can’t Take It With You was a huge influence on him when he was creating the Robinson family. With our art director, Robh Ruppel, we talked a lot about The Wizard of Oz and how that movie goes from a sepia palette to a Technicolor palette and that influenced the look of the distant past (when we see Lewis’ mother giving him up it’s sepia) and the future (bright, bold and Technicolor). With the animators, we looked at scenes of Jim Carrey as inspiration for both Wilbur and Bowler Hat Guy. Also a lot of Looney Tunes. We used to say that Lewis is a Disney character and Wilbur and the Robinsons are Warner Looney Tunes characters. Lewis moves in more of a solid, natural, Disney-type of animation and the Robinsons are zippier and invade your personal space more like Looney Tunes characters. Those are some of the main influences I can think of.





The Disney Elite: Another wonderfully cartoony element of the film is your choice of voice-actors. The voice-work often reminds me more of 1960s Hanna-Barbera cartoons than anything Disney was doing at the time. I mean, there are some really unexpected picks in there (Batman’s Adam West, Roseanne’s Laurie Metcalf, There’s Something About Mary’s Harland Williams), all of whom do an AMAZING job. Oh, and then there’s YOU – voicing not one, not two, but THREE characters, including the mustache-twirling Bowler Hat Guy! Care to share the story behind that bit of kismet casting?


Stephen Anderson: Thank you for saying that about our voice actor choices. I’ve always been such a fan of those classic voice actors and I liked approaching our casting that way. We thought it best to not go with big names, but just solid character performers. To me, actors who have experience in theater, sketch comedy and improv are really best for animation because they know how to create strong and clear characters.


As far as my involvement goes, it’s pretty simple. I’m sure you know about the work-in-progress reels that we create, where we take our story boards and cut them to temp vocals, music and sound fx. Well, I did the temp voices for those characters and, after several screenings with my voice in there, folks just got used to it and eventually I became the voice of those characters. It was the same with other members of the team. Frankie the Frog, Uncle Gaston and Lewis’ coach, Lefty the butler, the t-rex that BHG unleashes - those were all voiced by members of the story crew.





The Disney Elite: Meet the Robinsons is one of those rare movies that makes me tear up every time I watch it. This is all the more rare seeing as how for most of the film, it’s funny, funny, FUNNY. It seems to me like this kind of emotional punch can only be created when a writer/director is willing to put their own emotions and experiences into their work. Was this true for you? And if so, would you mind sharing a bit of your personal story that effected the story being told in Meet the Robinsons?


Stephen Anderson: The adoption part of the story was not in Bill Joyce’s original book. That was something that two development executives and a writer had built in to the first draft of the script, long before I’d come on to the project. When the studio handed me that script, I couldn’t believe what I was reading. While my story differs from Lewis’, I still totally identified with his quest to know who his mother is and to find out why she gave him up. And the studio had no idea that I was adopted so it was a complete coincidence. Because I understood Lewis so well, I was able to bring out that emotional side much more. It was there in the original draft, but I felt we could strengthen it.


The theme of 'Keep Moving Forward’ evolved out of early discussions about adoption and my personal feelings about it. My parents were very open with me about it and told me I was adopted at a very early age. They used to tell me that when I became 18, I could access my records and find out who my birth parents were and that they would support me in that. So for many years, I looked towards that age as a big milestone and I was determined to find out where I came from. Then one day, I realized my 18th birthday had come and gone and I’d totally forgotten about starting this search. I’d gotten distracted by life, CalArts, starting a career, getting married, etc. And I was so lucky to have been adopted by such a loving family. What would finding my birth parents change? Nothing really. In fact, I’ve heard stories about people having very negative experiences reconnecting with birth parents and that sometimes it makes things worse for them. So the important thing was to not focus on the past but on the positive present and the promising future. And that helped us all realize that that’s exactly what Lewis is going through too.


The Disney Elite. Wow. I’m damned near speechless. That right there made my day, my week, my YEAR. That was incredibly moving and inspiring, Stephen. Thanks so much for sharing that.





Thursday: In Part 3 of our interview, Stephen Anderson tells us about his life at Disney post-Meet the Robinsons. There’s his work as director on Winnie the Pooh, his place in Disney’s famed ‘Story Trust’…oh, and his upcoming, TOP SECRET animated feature film project! He’ll also offer some GREAT advice for folks hoping to make art their life. If this sounds like YOU, make sure to come back and check it out. I hope you’ll join us!


All art via Stephen Anderson’s Instagram

NOTE: This interview would not have been possible without the kindness and assistance of tumblr user Morgan – a.k.a. that-guy-in-the-bowler-hat. Morgan runs the internet’s PREMIER Meet the Robinsons archive and fansite. If you are a fan of MtR, you MUST check out his tumblr a.s.a.p.!

The Starks (Chapter 1)

The Starks Chapter 1

Relationships: Tony!Father x Reader!Adoptive daughter

             Peter Parker x Reader

A/N The time is currently set about 7 months prior to Captain America: Civil War. So starts before Peter got his power, since he said it has been about 6 months since he got his power in the Civil War. I’m not a huge fan of Marvel universe but I wanted to write MCU version of my original story ‘Noah Sterling’ because the main character has similar personality to Tony. Hope you enjoy this

Not much story in this chapter so I will upload the next soon.

-

[Name] Stark is not her real name. But that doesn’t matter. She was just a normal girl, suffering through school because of bullies, suffering at the orphanage because of the director, and suffering through the never-ending nightmare that seem to torture her endlessly. That’s when her supposedly savior came.

Tony Stark never intended to have a child. Never. Children were nuisance. And with him being a world-wide famous playboy, he thought having a child would just mean having mini version of himself running through the house, which was quiet annoying even from the thought of it.. But things changed that day when he saw tuff of white hair -more than usual- and decided that he at least needed a successor to the Stark Company. And that was why he searched through the whole orphanage of New York and finally found a ‘perfect’ figure –a teenager, he would never have someone younger than 13, with brilliant mind that he expected was enough to keep the Stark Industry from dying.

When [Name] arrived at the Avengers Tower for the first time she was 15 and the first thing that greeted her was the voice of an AI, F.R.I.D.A.Y.

“Welcome to the Avengers Tower, Miss [Name]. F.R.I.D.A.Y. at your service, ma’am.” The polite voice of the system made her smile.

“Come to the elevator and I will lead you to your room.” [Name] nodded to the invisible assistant? Butler? She doubted he would like those descriptions.

[Name] carried her bag to the elevator and it went up. She didn’t have much to bring, just some of her text books, a teddy bear, and journals. After all, her new parent did tell her there’s no need of bringing clothes or anything like that. So she didn’t.

She examined her reflection in the elevator door. Certainly not an image you would want from Stark. Messy hair, dull eyes, bags under them, and the cloths. Technically didn’t seem like cloths at all. They were just rags. But not wearing a makeup made her look slightly younger than her age. Still, her cloths bothered her to some point, being automatically compared to the place she was in. She sighed but she decided long ago not to mind that. No one cared anyway.

With a bright ‘ding’ sound the elevator door opened.

“Welcome to the 72nd floor, this is where the Avengers members stay, except for the boss.”

For a moment, she couldn’t believe her eyes and just stayed there.

“Is anything wrong ma’am?”

The voice made her come back to Earth and she got off the elevator. She had never seen such an amazing apartment flat, it was gorgeous.

Starting from the elevator, there was some kind of ‘catwalk’ with two steps on the either side of it. The walk crossed the floor to the other side, dividing it in half.

“Can I take a look around?” She asked.

“Of course, ma’am.”

[Name] took a look around. On the left side of the walk was the living room. She carefully stepped down, the ‘living room’, it had square mahogany coffee table in the middle, soft rug covered the floor and two couches with very dark shade of red was next to the table. Both facing the table, one faced the catwalk and the other faced the wall.

Speaking of the wall, the wall on the side of the building was made of glass. So she could see the beautiful view of Manhattan when it becomes night time. The other wall, the one that the couch was facing, had huge television hanging on it.

[Name] stared at it for a moment and then headed to the other side.

It was kitchen she was in now. All the cabinets, sink, fridge, etc. were all in beautiful shade of burgundy with silver edges. They were covering up half of the wall and right next to the window – taking up the other half of the wall- was counter, replacing the need for dining table. There were 3 stools on the either sides of the counter in rainbow color. She smiled and stroked the top, made of marble. Next to the stool was the dining table, it wasn’t huge but it was big enough for 10 people to eat at the same time.

But both the living room and the kitchen were empty. She wondered where were the other members went.

“The other members have went to train.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, as if she read [Name]’s mind.

“I see.” [Name] said.

She then headed back to the catwalk and went to where it led to. The walk soon became a hallway and the light turned on itself, there numerous amount of doors on either side of the wall. The door all had different colors, the member’s signature or favorite color.

“Your room is at the end of the hallway.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. instructed.

[Name] walked down the hall which seemed to be endless until she reached the door, literally signaling the end. She opened it and for a moment she didn’t move.

The room was a giant rectangle. But it was more like a small apartment or a fancy hotel room than a teenage girl’s room. There were two doors on the wall left to the place she was standing, and one on the right. The door on the right led to a small room and except for those doors, it was just a room.

She, deciding to check the doors later, stepped in to the room in order to take a closer look, a giant bed on the corner next to the room’s wall, a drawer next to the bed with night stand on it. And a mini fridge on the other corner.

She decided to take a look around and went into the small room that was taking up 1/5 of the whole room. She thought it would be a bathroom.

It was a walk-in closet. And it seemed bigger now that she was in there. It was organized very well and were filled with clothes, shoes, accessories, bags, etc. and had a big make up table as well. Now if she was a normal teenage girl she would be squealing in excitement but unfortunately she wasn’t. She didn’t care much for the clothes. Although she appreciated very much that someone, probably Tony Stark or Ms. Potts, was very concerning about her. She appreciated it very much.

“It was Ms. Potts’ idea to make a closet this big, although boss didn’t appreciate it very much.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said to her boss’ defense.

“I got it.” [Name] answered. Staring at the collection of the cloths. There were only few that suited her taste, she kept a note to herself to check them out later.

She walked out of the room and headed to the room across her. A bathroom. Rather big for a bathroom though. It had ivory tiles on the floor, toilet and the sink close to the door, cabinet above the sink, shower stool on the left corner and a bath tub on the right. The tub was Jacuzzi. She stroked the wall, in the color of very pale yellow, and blinked. Trying to sink in that this was her own bathroom. That she didn’t need to share it with anyone else.

“Is there anything wrong ma’am?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. asked and [Name] shook her head. She thought it would take a long time to get used to such treatment.

She then headed to the next room. Hoping it was finally something she would appreciate. And she opened the door and gasped.

It was a library.

Her own personal library.

All 4 walls were covered gigantic bookshelves of very dark shaded wood. The shelves in the wall were filled with books of all sorts of genres, well categorized. In the middle of the room there was a desk of same shade of wood, on top of it were a humongous desktop computer, and few other objects. She walked up closely to see what they were. She was excited by the fact that she had to go through other small empty bookshelves to get to the desk.

There were white brand new smartphone, a tablet PC, and a Master card. She sat on the desk, squealing in excitement.

“I’ll report to Mr. Stark that you have arrived. He just came back.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said and it became silent.

And now she was left alone, fully alone. Her face was filled with happiness as she looked around the room. She had asked for books when Tony asked her about what she wanted to have, and now she was surrounded by them.

“I have a good taste.”

That was what Tony said, satisfied with his choice of kid.

She then spotted a post-it on the screen of the desktop. She teared it off and read it out in a whisper.

“Hope you like it sweetheart.” She grinned, grateful that he was treating her like she was a princess or something.

She was about to pick a book but she heard a ‘ding’ from outside and with slight disappointment she walked out of the room.

She spotted Tony standing in front of the elevator, looking for his daughter.

He spotted her and she walked up to him.

“So, I guess F.R.I.D.A.Y. has already gave you a tour? Did you like it? Would you like for me to rearrange it?”

[Name] quickly shook her head, “No, no. Mr. Stark, it, it’s perfect, th-thank you.”

Tony raised his brow, “Well, we might need to work on this ‘Mr. Stark’ thing. I’m your father now. Remember?”

[Name] flinched a bit. Barely noticeable.

“Should I call you Father then?”

Tony just shrugged. He would have preferred ‘Tony’ or ‘dad’ but if that’s what she wanted then he would go along with it.

“Well, um Father? Thank you so much for everything.” [Name] said timidly. Tony smiled and awkwardly patted her shoulder.

“Well kiddo, it’s you and me from now on. So if you have any problem, just tell me. We are family now, got it sweetheart?”

[Name] gave a sweet smile and nodded.

Never did they know, never did they know.

Connor Kenway x Reader: I Wish For A Family

Originally posted by urogiri

The soft crackling of the fire and the steady sound of raindrops hitting the windows were the only sounds that were competing to fill the silence that seemed to hollow the house. You were accompanied by a collection of books; an intriguing series that you were determined to finish as the storm outside weakened. There wasn’t much conversation anymore. Your eyes departed from the words on the page to gaze over to the chair Achilles used to sit in. It was times like these where his absence was palpable in an almost painful manner. You wished that he was here to offer his advice on how future events should be handled, to defeat you in every board game you played and to argue with the Native Assassin who now carried an even bigger load of worries and responsibilities than he did before.

With a sigh, you gently closed the book and placed it in its rightful place atop of the others. The soft silk material of your skirt trailed behind you as you stepped into the kitchen and found the necessary ingredients to make a delicious stew to feed yourself and the man who had sealed himself in his room upstairs. It all felt strangely domestic as you placed the apron over your head and tied it firmly behind you. Being trained by the French Brotherhood as if you were one of their own, you were a fierce assassin; as deadly as you were sophisticated and graceful. George Washington knew you by name, Lafayette could give testimony of your skills and Haytham Kenway himself had surprised his son when Connor was in the middle of introducing you but the Grand Master already knew of you.

You cut the carrots, the meat, and everything else before adding it into the pot and stirring it as it heated. You wiped your hands on the apron and turned to ready the bowls and utensils. The American Revolution had been fought and the colonists earned their victory. The United States of America had been the title given to the liberated nation and though now the people could take a break and celebrate their success, the work of the Assassins was just getting started. The American Brotherhood needed to be built to ensure their presence in the states was firm and lasting for the war with the Templars was far from over. The threat of Templar Order had been almost completely eradicated, yes, but the Assassins needed to be established for the freedom of the people and their posterity.

Ratonhnhaké:ton had this weight on his shoulders as well as the burden of knowing his people were driven from their land. In his life he had lost countless people. His story was painful in so many ways that you only wished for happiness to finally find him.

You carefully placed the bowls of hot stew on a tray along with two glasses of water. You carried these across the threshold and into the dinning room where you placed the bowls across from each other in the seats that Connor and you usually sat in. You could not help but look at the head of the table where Achilles used to sit. You walked up the stairs and towards the room where Connor resided to knock on the door.

“Connor,” you called out as you heard movement in his room.

The door opened to reveal the assassin who was not wearing his trademark robes but a simple white shirt that reached his elbows and blue pants.

“Dinner is ready downstairs. I was hoping you’d join me.”

“Of course.”

The both of you made your way downstairs and towards your respective seats. Connor thanked you for the food and you assured him that it was nothing. The same silence that you were trying to escape returned as the two of you enjoyed the flavors of the stew and the refreshment of the water. You knew well that he took notice of the way you examined him with concerned eyes looking for something to let you know how he was feeling but he had become extremely proficient at hiding his emotions.

You knew well the incredible warrior Connor was, you knew that he had the strength to survive any hardship that life placed in front of him but you had been his partner for years and had hoped that the trust you both shared was enough for him to know that he didn’t have to do this along; that you were more than willing to help. But before you could aid him you had to know what was wrong.

After eating, you stood to pick up everything and return it to the kitchen but Connor stopped you with a gesture of his hand.

“Please, allow me.” He said, lightly taking the bowl and cup from your hands and gathering them with his own before he walked to the kitchen.

He was fully aware that you followed behind him; walking in that soft, graceful way that made it seem as if you were gliding with your long skirts trailing behind you. There were many things on his mind, some that he was willing to share and others that he wanted to keep to himself. Connor knew that it wasn’t fair to you. He knew that you spent your days recruiting and training new assassins, just as he did, chatting with the other women in the homestead that you had become close friends with and making sure that everything in this home and outside ran smoothly. He did these things as well, obviously, but when he was away strengthening relations between the Caribbean brotherhood and his own, you were placed in charge.

You were the person he most trusted, a woman he admired for your strength and intelligence. He was sure that you already began to formulate your theories as to why he had been so distant suddenly and Connor felt guilty for making you worry. With all the courage he possessed he suddenly vulnerable under your analyzing gaze and he didn’t know how to explain what had put him in such an isolated place.

He finished washing the dishes and moved to go somewhere but he was suddenly stopped by your small hand grabbing his. All movement halted as he felt the coolness of your hand invade the warmth of his. Connor wasn’t one for physical contact but he always welcomed yours. Whether it came in the form of hugs or the rare kiss on the cheek, the gravitational pull he felt towards you was something he could never explain when he was younger.

For some time he felt as if he would never feel the love of another, especially from such a beautiful and refined lady like you, because of his heritage. He learned from others that women did these actions, gave these hugs, as a sign of friendship and that is what he took them as. For such a long time that had been enough…but his mentality began to change as he grew older.

“Connor, do you trust me?”

The inquiry in her voice saddened him. This shouldn’t be a question that needed to be asked.

“You are one of the persons in this life that I trust most.” Connor reassured, the depth of his kind eyes meeting your own. “Never place in doubt my trust in you.”

“Then tell me what you are thinking. The house already feels empty without Achilles and without your presence it just becomes more hollow.”

Upon hearing your words his hand moved to grab your upper arm and hold it in sympathy; as a way to comfort you.

“That is not what I wanted…I am sorry, (Your Name). I…” He trailed off as he took his hand off you and moved around you and towards the living room. “The things that burden my mind are not what you expect.”

“Explain it to me.” You told him. “You’ve helped me dozens of times. I wish to do the same.”

He stopped walking once he reached a place near the window where he could survey the storm that thrashed the nature outside. He contemplated the words he wanted to say to her and how he was going to do so while she leaned against the archway giving him the time he needed.

“The war has ended and the tyranny of the English crown and the Templar Order have been warded off.” He began. “What do you wish to happen now?”

You crossed your arms and rested your head against the doorway. “Well, I wish for the our influence to grow stronger here in to make sure that future attempts from the Templars to rise up again can be stopped. I wish for there to be a strong connection between not only us and the Caribbean brotherhood, but also the ones in Europe and around the world. I wish for the homestead to thrive always as it has been-”

“No. What I had meant was…what do you wish to happen to you, personally.” Connor tried again, looking a bit flustered because he hadn’t been clear enough the first time.

“Oh, to me? Um, well, I wish to be of service for as long as I can and help mentor the new assassins under your leadership.”

Connor’s eyes left yours as he shook his head and looked down to the floor. You suddenly felt as if you had answered the wrong thing and you didn’t understand. After the death of your father and the abandonment of your mother, you were sent to a family friend in France where you were raised in the creed. You had been working for the assassins all your life and could not imagine doing anything else with the knowledge of the evil that was found in this world. Your thoughts wondered if Connor was thinking about leaving the assassins but you quickly dismissed the idea. That was not something Connor would ever do.

“Was that the wrong thing to say?” You asked as you moved into the room.

“No. It is an honorable thing to want.”

You waited a moment before asking.

“What do you want, Connor?”

He took a moment before answering.

“I wish for a family.”

You are not going to lie and say that you weren’t surprised, even shocked, at his answer. Years ago, the both of you had been on aboard the Aquila resting inside the captain’s cabin after defeating a number of ships that had been controlling the bay around a lighthouse that they shouldn’t have been in. During the battle you had been slightly injured and now sat in his chair bandaging the wound when conversation between you two started. You talked the war, the homestead, the past and what waited ahead of you. It was in that conversation that you learned that Connor did not have time for romance. Members of the homestead were always asking him when he was going to find a nice girl during the times where all of them gathered to eat and have a good time. He had told you that he had other priorities with his people that came first and they would always come first, as would the fight for freedom.

You had agreed with him and somehow convinced yourself that his mentality would never change.

“Two weeks ago we all gathered in welcoming the child of Myriam and Norris’s to this world. I had returned days later to ask if they had a sufficient amount of firewood for the night or meat, since Myriam is now too busy to hunt, and she asked me if I could hold him for a moment. She placed her child in my arms, her small baby boy and I was overtaken by a strong feeling in my chest.” He said as he tapped his chest for emphasis, trying to get you to understand . “I want that. I want to be able to hold a child of my own. I want to watch my little one grow, watch him learn to form words and take his first steps. I want a wife. A woman whom would love me just as much as I would love her.”

The emotions in his words were so strong they touched your heart. In the long time that you had known Connor, you had never heard him speak as he was now. His eyes were filled with such emotion as if his wishes were never going to be attained no matter how much he wanted it. It was the first time that you had seen him want something other than freedom for his people and the death of his enemies. This time he wanted something that everyone wanted to have but it seemed as if a part of him believed he would not achieve this.

“Connor you will have that.” You tried to reassure him. “You will find a woman who will you love immeasurably, you’ll see. You will also have children who will adore you and see you as their hero. I have no doubt in my mind that you will be a wonderful husband and an excellent father.”

Connor’s desperate eyes once more looked away from yours. He shook his head again, running a hand through his hair which had begun to grow back to how it used to be. You didn’t understand why this was causing him such anguish. You moved closer to him and placed a hand on his face so that he was once again looking at you. You held his gaze and looked deeply into his eyes so that she can find the source of his insecurities and extinguish it.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton, it will happen. You are such an exemplary person. You are brave beyond compare and never in my life have I met someone who can even come close to having the same amount of goodness that lives in you. Life may have been cruel to you like that storm outside but soon the storm will end and the sun will shine. And when the sun shines upon you, Connor, and it will, you will have everything that you want and more.”

Your words were so sincere that they softened his expression but not what burned in his eyes. You wrapped your arms around his neck and embraced him closely. He laid his head on your shoulder and after a bit he wrapped his arms around you to hold you as tightly as you were holding him. You could feel his breath on your neck as you rested your head on the side of his. You had never been this close to Connor. Yes, you had given him hugs before, but nothing like this. Your heart began to beat a little faster and you hoped he could not feel it.

Connor had not had the blessing of living that normal life that so many seemed to have. He did not grow up in a home where he had both his mother and his father. He had been denied both from an early age. He did not know what it was like for a family to be together and united because he had no example of it but after seeing the joy Norris and Myriam had…he wanted it. He wanted it badly.

“I want to have all of that with you.”

That’s when you were sure he wasn’t going to feel how fast your heart was beating because your heart stopped. You couldn’t believe what you had just heard.

In the years following you meeting the native, you had harbored feelings for him. Everything about him, to you, seemed perfect. You had fallen in love with the way he carefully enunciated every word to make sure that he was pronouncing it correctly, the way he would let his guard down around you sometimes and smile, the way his eyes held pride when he watched you in battle, with his morals and the way he would do anything to protect those he loved. You thought then, and now, that he was incredibly handsome but that conversation you both had on the Aquila made you hide your feelings and even try to ignore them.

Because you thought that he would never feel the same way.

He had held you but your silence was all he needed to confirm his doubts. He remembered the day that you had arrived to the homestead. You arrived wearing expensive clothing with your hair braided up and pearls pinned in the elaborate braid. Even in the city he had not seen a lady like you. Your eyes were bright and warm. Your smile was directed at him with no prejudice. He had not believed that someone that looked so delicate and elegant could be a skilled assassin. He was proved wrong many times over. Especially the time when you had been the first one to swing off the Aquila and attack that Man O’ War which surprised Mr. Faulkner who had first been against you boarding the ship (saying woman on board brought bad luck). After that his crew affectionally had nicknamed you the ‘Pirate Lass’.

He always sought to be near you. He wanted to be near you but you did not feel the same way.

“I should not have said that. I am sorry.” He said with fear and regret coating his words.

“No, wait, Connor-” He tried to slip away from you but you didn’t let him. “I…”

How were you supposed to explain how you felt for him for so many years? How you suppressed it in fear that you could lose his friendship? That you were so shocked and happy at his words that you didn’t know how to tell him?

He waited because you stopped him. His eyes urged you to go on even if it was to tell him the hard truth that you did not feel the same way.

“I’ve felt…I…” You sighed to shake off the sudden nervousness that now filled you. “I had feelings for you. I’ve always thought you were one of a kind, handsome and gallant. I had so many feelings I was afraid you would notice the way I smiled too widely. I always thought I was a bother to you. And then that night on your ship, after we defeated those ships that were controlling the lighthouse, you told me that you weren’t interested in a relationship and I respected that. You were right. I saw why you would want to make that decision and so I concealed my feelings.”

“I spoke those words while a war raged among us.” Connor clarified. “I could not allow my emotions to show. Our lives were threatened. At any moment anything could have happened to either of us.”

“I know,” you nodded.

He looked at you intently. You had taken small sections from the front of your hair and braided it so that it almost appeared as if you were wearing a crown; half up and half down. You didn’t have pearls pinned in your hair nor flowers but you looked no less radiant.

“I see things differently now.” The Master Assassin said with conviction. “The brotherhood is growing at a steady pace. All of our goals can and will be attained rather quickly. Perhaps it is time for the rain to cease and for the sun to shine.”

You turned to look outside and smiled when you saw that the storm had stopped. The only thing that remained from the brutal downpour was the crystal clear droplets that slid down the surface of the windows. It was only a matter of time before the sun broke through the clouds and basked everything in its golden light; you both knew that. Connor, still slightly timid, takes a hold of your hand.

“(Your Name)…I will do everything in my power to have the feelings you had for me return.”

“You already have them, Ratonhnhaké:ton.”

“But you said ’had’.” Connor said, his expression twisting in confusion.

You gave him a sweet smile before using both hands to bring him close enough to kiss. And kiss him you did. It had been Connor’s first kiss so despite not knowing that to do he followed your movements and kissed you back. It was that kiss that told him that your feelings had never left; they were only hidden but now, since the sun was going to shine, there is no need for them to hide from the storm any longer.

“You know, secretly, I’ve also always wanted to start a family.”

The joyful and hopeful grin he gave you was priceless.

For Every Broken Dream

Chapter One (read on ao3) {4557 words}
At seventeen, James Potter’s only option is to work in service at the large Evans estate as a farmer. He can’t mess this up- he needs it more than ever. Shame things are never as easy as we want them to be.

Amidst a heavy blanket of snow there stands a shivering James Potter. His shoes are weak and frayed, multiple holes give the bone-chilling muddy snow access to his already numbed toes. He shivers, it’s unforgivably cold and the chill bites at his skin but still he marches on.

He fights against the harsh winter elements and pulls his tattered jacket closer around his shaking body. Then he stares up, mouth half open in amazement, at the house sitting on the hills.

The Evans manor looms over the horizon. It’s almost threatening.  

It’s the largest house he has ever laid eyes on; extravagant and massive. Bright lights shine out of every window and hot smoke curls out of the dozens of chimneys, boastful and mocking.

It’s taunting him.

The closer and closer he gets to it the more… breathtaking it becomes.

It’s elegant and his saving grace, providing him with shelter, warmth, food and coin. And yet he has a terrible feeling that in some ways it will be like a prison. That it will, ultimately, also be his downfall.

He lets out a deep, shaky breath.

He needs the money, he needs to escape the madness, he needs… hope . And this opportunity rose out of the ashes like a God-send; he’d be a fool to pass it up. He could not mess this up. 

This was everything to him.

Working for the Evans family, that’s his life now.

“Potter, I presume?” An old woman with striking blue eyes looks him up and down.

He feels her stare, at the state of his mud-splattered trousers and at the drenched jacket. He has half a mind to tell her that he can’t exactly control the weather now, can he? If it was sunny he’d be in a better appearance.

“Yes ma’am.”

But he remembers why he’s here. He remembers how important this is to him. That he can’t mess this up.

He looks at the woman straight and hard, like how he’s been told. Respectful, yielding. He’s in the working world now.

He gives her a clumsy bow, long legs buckle as his back bends. His cap slides off his head almost like it’s flying and lands, gracefully, into the puddle by his feet.  

It’s the woman’s look of wild alarm as he grabs for it and squeezes out as much excess water as he can before placing it back over his windswept hair. But it’s also the precarious shadow of someone in one of the large windows, watching as the woman addresses herself as McGonagall, the housekeeper.

James feels somewhat on edge, like he’s in a lions den.

It’s when McGonagall turns away from the house and he follows after begrudgingly that he can still feel that stare on his back.

He gulps; uncertainty and fear cripples him. But he marches on.

Past the house, up the gravel pathway, and into the never-ending wood where the trees are so numerous and dense that in summer time you probably wouldn’t even be able to see the sky through it.

It’s about a ten minute walk before he’s met with the farmer’s fields.

There’s a thick scattering of frost, but he can make out the allotments filled with seeds and growing vegetables, apple trees and bushes surrounding the large farm that’s to the side. A quaint looking, but relatively decent-sized, cottage smiles at him from across the lane. Animal noises and sounds fill the air, it’s almost refreshing.

A plump and excited looking man stands waiting for them, a dog wags his bottle brush like tail non-stop by his feet.

“Mr Slughorn,” McGonagall states when they finally halt to a stop. “This is the boy.”

Slughorn takes James’ hands and he’s swept up into the most uncomfortable and yet pleasant hug imaginable. Calloused and rough hands then shake him, gigantic smiles and well-spoken wishes fill the air, that James is most welcome and that they’re now family.

The big dog lets out a happy woof, far too excited now by the prospect of making a new friend, and runs towards the newcomer. Dirty paws jump at him and then James is on the floor, laughing for what seems the first time in years as a smelly, wet tongue licks his face.

Despite everything, James finds himself grinning. 

As long as he tries to forget about what happened… as long as tries to forget about the large house acres away and the rich family who reside inside it, he thinks he’ll enjoy it here.

Keep reading

Prince Adam Headcanons

Yeah I just physically couldn’t. stop. myself…

Word Count: um…a lot. I might as well take out the dots and make it an imagine bc LOL I GOT A LIL CARRIED AWAY HERE

A/N: yes, I’m still working on my Gaston series, but while I’m writing that, here *dumps fanfic in ur lap* have these post-curse headcanons that I thought up at 4:00am of the purest most adorably precious cinnamon roll prince ever

Originally posted by imanewrevival


  •  Prince Adam still literally unable to wrap his mind around the fact, even weeks after the curse is broken, that someone could find it in them to love him in his darkest and most hopeless of times
  •   Adam, not surprisingly, suffering from post-curse nightmares. He’ll dream that he’s once again the vain, cruel prince who turned away the rose, and wake with hands clutching at his chest and face to make sure that they’re not animalistic and covered with fur again
  •  on nights when the dreams are particularly bad, he’ll wake you and you’ll stay up till dawn comforting him, his head on your chest or in your lap while you whisper soothing words and brush your hand through his hair
  • sometimes you’ll snuggle into him and place your cheek on his shoulder, bringing your fingers up to his face and tracing his cheekbones, his eyebrows, and his jawline with soft strokes to remind him that his features are human again, and always will be
  • Adam catches your hand and gently presses his lips against your fingertips, his eyes closing and his forehead furrowing before kissing your palm. When his eyelids open, his gaze locks on yours and you almost can’t breathe for the amount of love in his stunning blue irises that shine like moonbeams
  • eventually lulling him back to sleep by singing or reading softly, admiring the peacefulness of his expression as he dozes, marveling at how truly lucky you are to love someone so beautiful and pure and to have his love in return
  • having literally the most perfect and healthy relationship ever. Seriously, the two of you are the stuff of romance novels (the happy ones that aren’t all dramatic and angsty). You can practically read each others’ minds, which really comes in handy when trying to find each other new books to read. You know everything about each other. How you like your tea, what position you find most comfortable to sleep in, your favorite author, your favorite composer, even what things you find annoying or frustrating
  • One more time now: RELATIONSHIP GOALS
  • being able to match Adam’s mischievous side with your own. Don’t get me started on snowball fights during the winter seasons which always leave you soaked to the bone (much to Mrs. Potts’ amused dismay when you leave puddles through the halls and on the stairs) and grinning like idiots. Mud fights are frequent during the summer as well (poor Mrs. Potts indeed). You never miss a chance to enjoy the fresh scent of rain after a summer storm, so you head out with Adam to enjoy the dewy gardens…then come back looking like you bathed in a swamp
  • just. imagine. tho. You’ll be sitting on a bench glossing over a book, or breathing in the crisp warm air when all the sudden you glance up and see Adam looking at you from a few feet away, his lips upturned in a smirk and his gaze peering through his eyelashes. He slowly brings one hand around from behind his back and you see a ball of sticky brown mud oozing between his fingers. You barely have time to growl, “Don’t you even think about it.” before it smacks you in the face, instantly dribbling down your neck and shoulders. Adam’s deep laugh bounces off the statues before it’s cut off by the sound of mud splattering against the back of his head. Total chaos ensues, and the cleaning staff shares a collective sigh as the sound of hysterical laughter from the gardens meets their ears
  • fervent apologizing on both your parts to the gardeners afterwards
  • kisses. Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the camel, the k i s s e s. Kisses that stop time. Kisses that make the ground spin under your feet, or sometimes even make the ground disappear completely. Standing with your toes touching as Adam brings both hands to the sides of your face, dips his head and kisses you with such deep, slow passion that you forget who’s air you’re breathing, or you forget to breathe entirely. Gathering the fabric of his shirt in your hands and standing on your toes to be even closer to him. He brushes his thumbs across your cheeks, and when you finally break apart, you can’t move or draw oxygen for several seconds after. In these moments, if he were to ask you the sum of 2 + 2, you would only be able to answer with his name
  • waking up to feeling the feather-light touch of his lips against the side of your neck, along your jaw and on your cheek, unable to conceal the shudders that ripple along your skin or the butterflies that fluster uncontrollably around your stomach. Feeling him smile against your shoulder when he runs his hand along your arm and feels the goosebumps that his actions have caused, asking in a deep, husky morning voice if you’re cold or if there’s some other reason for the reaction. You sit up and stuff a pillow in his face
  • he’s not the only one who uses affection to rouse the other from sleep. Before the break of dawn, you’ll wrap your arm around his torso and lightly trail kisses across his features. On each of his closed eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, the corner of is mouth until the arm that he has around your shoulders tightens and pulls you against him, his lips spreading in a drowsy smile. After he’s awakened, you wrap yourself in blankets and lead him by the hand through the silent castle until you reach the tallest tower. There you stand in his arms, his lips pressed to the top of your head as the two of you watch the sun rise over the distant hills and flood the skies with pale pink light
  • spontaneous dances. This is 100% a thing. Imagine standing in the library at one of the tables, alphabetizing a stack of volumes when Adam’s arms wind around your waist and his firm chest presses to your back. “Do you hear that?” he’ll ask softly, prompting you to grin as you hear Cadenza’s playing a few rooms away. Before you know it your swaying to the sweet rhythm, then Adam’s twirling you across the floor, lifting you into effortless spins and dipping you nearly to the floor, making laughter flow from your lips
  • making faces at each other from across the diner table
  • holding balls and dances at least once a month to stay connected with the rest of Villenueve, and even though Adam is supposed to be socializing, he can’t help staring at you practically the entire night
  • Plumette helping you get ready for said parties, lacing up your dress and fastening back rebellious strands of hair when Adam appears in the doorway, his eyes widening in loving disbelief at your astounding beauty, which of course makes your face turn the color of a ripe pomegranate. Plumette smiles, her hands on your shoulders as she says, “Isn’t she a vision, my prince?” Adam’s shakes himself from his stupor and responds, “One almost too beautiful to behold.”
  • your face reddens ten shades
  • pet names. And lots of them, though mainly “love” and “my darling”

      • “(Y/N), I’m not wearing that.”  

      “Oh come on, it’ll look wonderful.”

      “It will look ridiculous.”

     “But Lumiere looks so dashing in them, I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”

      “(Y/N), it’s got bloody bows in it.”

     “It makes it look more fashionable. Now just try it on!”

     “I’d rather be a beast again.”

     “Oh honestly, it’s just a wig.”

     “Take one more step and I’ll throw that thing in the fire.”

  • the staff of the castle may as well be payed family members. Plumette is of course your best friend, Adam’s being Lumiere. Mrs. Potts is a second mother to you, and Cogsworth is always overjoyed to play the part of the father figure. Maestro Cadenza and Madame Garderobe took you under their musical wings as soon as the curse was broken, and you can never go through a conversation with either of them without being called “my dear” or “darling” at least five times. Your closest bond however is with Chip, and often you’ll glimpse Adam sitting with the young boy on his lap as well, exploring the surface of an atlas or looking at old maps
  • Adam being brilliant with children, despite thinking that he’s not. Sometimes he’ll watch you interacting with Chip and find himself wondering what it would be like to start a family of your own someday, not noticing the soft smile that graces his lips at the thought of it
  • going on adventures together. Not major ones necessarily, but even small journeys through the nearby mountains and forests are enough to mostly quench your wanderlust. You’ll often drag him to the top of a hill that overlooks Villeneuve and the surrounding countryside, standing with hands linked as the wind rushes over you
  • returning from such journeys to the warm castle, Mrs. Potts setting out tea by the fireplace, and you curling up against Adam by the huge marble hearth, practically on his lap with your face buried in his thick, smooth hair. Your fingers absentmindedly play with the laces of his shirt, his heartbeat echoing smooth and steady against your chest. Adam draws you closer as the warmth of the crackling fire surrounds you in a drowsy haze, pressing his lips to your forehead and murmuring a tender, “I love you.” to which you smile and tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “And I love you. For evermore.” His smile makes your heart swell to the point where it aches with happiness. “For evermore,” he replies.

uuugghhhhhh save meh plz

Taehyung Scenario: What A Feeling.

Request: Hello! Can i have a request where you and V have been dating for a long time and during one of the concerts,your backstage listening to them but after they finish the concert, V makes you come on stage in front of all their fans and proposes to you. Thank you girls!

Genre: Romance.


-So Y/N…-

Taehyung had been acting a bit weird for the last twenty minutes, he was trying to tell you something and usually your boyfriend was pretty direct with what he wanted to say, but you had also figured out some habits of him by now, being his girlfriend for more than four years you could know what was happening to him, whenever Taehyung was restless like right now usually meant he had something important to tell you, usually bad news.

It made you a bit nervous so you stared at him carefully, putting aside the book you were reading to give him your full attention so he would be more comfortable saying what he needed to say.

-Yes?-

-I… - he licked his lips and gave you a quick hug before he stared at you again -I think we have to cancel our anniversary date-

You raised your brows and stared at him wondering what could possibly be the reason for that, in your entire relationship you had always tried to respect those dates and celebrate together, so him starting to cancel them now didn’t sit well with you. -Why?-

-Well, the schedule for concerts was changed, so… the one here in Seoul came out precisely that day-

You hummed, that couldn’t be helped, you knew there was a whole heavy process of logistic and marketing behind concert dates so you understood, although you felt still a bit bad that you wouldn’t be able to spend that day just with him. You sighed pushing yourself beyond your selfless to think about him, Taehyung was a loving boyfriend, he wouldn’t do this if he had any other choice. -Well that’s ok, it can’t be helped-

Taehyung smiled and kissed your cheek. -That’s right- he kissed you again still smiling making you smile as well because he was so cute. -I will compensate though, I will plan a whole new date, extra special just for us-

You clapped softly and leaned in to kiss his lips. -You are the best-

Taehyung moved closer to you to have even more contact as his arms sneaked around your body. -But I’d like you coming to the concert, would you like that?-

-No I wouldn’t- He stared at you dumbfounded and then you laughed. -Silly, of course I would, what kind of question is that?-

Taehyung laughed and kissed your face a dozen times, on your lips, your forehead, your nose, your eyes. You giggled and squirmed a little but were delighted nonetheless with all his affection.

Taehyung was very happy, he knew he was a great actor but he didn’t feel confident if it was with you, even less to try to fool you. He knew this was a good thing, so he was happy that everything was going according to his plans, but it also got him a bit nervous.

You loved each other and he was absolutely positive and sure on what he wanted for the future, a future with you. You had talked about it before and Taehyung knew you wanted him in yours as well, but he still felt like it wasn’t good to take your answer for granted, this was a big step for both of you, but one that he was more than willing to take if it was with you, and Taehyung thought such big step deserved an even bigger occasion.

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Yellow - Spencer Reid

Originally posted by hisirishsoufflegirl

this is so exciting you guys!! this one is inspired by Yellow by Coldplay and I am so hyped.  please do enjoy!!


word count: 1,765


Leaving over the dead body of a young girl was not the situation in which Spencer Reid had thought he would meet the girl of his dreams.  

In the middle of the desert, the body of an eighteen year old girl was found half devoured by the animals inhabiting the area.  Upon discovery of the body, local police found three other bodies scattered throughout the same plot of land, all within three square miles.  Not only this, but the same time the body was discovered by hikers in the desert, another girl of the same physical aspects went missing in a similar situation as the other three eighteen year old girls. Naturally, the Behavioral Analysis Unit was called in on the serial killer case.  

Spencer didn’t mind travelling for work.  Although it was achingly hot here, he was able to adapt to the situation and perhaps just shed a layer or two of clothing he wore previously.  And, luckily, he didn’t have to fly very far.  He was already in Las Vegas visiting his mother when colleague Jennifer Jareau had called to debrief him before he hopped onto a flight to sunny southern New Mexico.   

He was also informed that SSA David Rossi was bringing his niece, who was job shadowing him on special permission for Erin Strauss and Boston University, where she was diligently attending school.  

Spencer wasn’t very interested in the thought of a strange member joining the team, but instead, he was curious as to how Agent David Rossi’s niece would look.  Will she look anything like him?  Or, will it be as if there was no resemblance at all?  

Pushing the thought from his head, Dr. Reid walked towards the body of the girl, which was only a day or so postmortem.  He squatted down, taking in the large bite marks and shockingly brutal marks of torture, before standing straight and covering the body with the large blue fabric once again.  He stood there for a moment, lost in thought, as he spotted David Rossi, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, and another woman approaching the scene quickly.  He strode over to them with his hands in his pocket, and nodded to his team members. 

His eyes landed on the new member, you were obviously nervous and jittery, wearing well-fitted navy dress pants with a light blue collared shirt.  He took in every aspect of you, making you shift uncomfortable as he was savoring every moment that he was able to look at you before anyone spoke.  

“I’m sorry to interrupt your time with your mom, Spence.”  JJ apologized quickly, bringing him into a quick hug.  

Spencer smiled tightly, but nodded.  “I understand.”  However, his eyes were trained on you.  He had never laid eyes upon something so alluring.  

David Rossi nodded to his as well.  “How is she?”  He asked, referring to Spencer’s mother.  

“Just the same.”  He dismissed, obviously not wanting to discuss it any further. 

Agent Hotchner took advantage of this and cleared his throat.  “Very well.  Spencer, will you and (Y/N) head back to the police station and begin setting things up?  I was informed that they have a large conference room ready for us.”  He instructed and began walking off towards the police chief.  

Spencer’s eyes drifted to you.  So, that was your name.  You looked very little like Rossi, only sharing his eye shape, but he could tell by the way you stood that the two of you got along very well.  There was not a doubt in his mind that you and your uncle shared a very similiar personality.  “Spencer, this is my niece and goddaughter, (Y/N) Rossi.  My brother’s only daughter.  (Y/N), this is Dr. Spencer Reid, the expert on just about anything you could muster up.”  Agent Rossi introduced with a playful smirk.  

“Pleasure,” (Y/N) said with a gentle smile on her face.  You made no effort to reach out to him, aware of how he felt about shaking hands.  

Spencer smiled and nodded in reply, captivated by your simple beauty.  You wore very little makeup, but yet your skin was flawless, and you were a simple kind of beautiful.  

“Watch after her, she’s a troublemaker.”  JJ teased and winked to Spencer as her and Agent Rossi wandered off to follow Agent Hotchner.  

You looked at Spencer with a faint smile.  “So, do you want to drive?”  You asked him quietly.  You didn’t care for driving to begin with, let alone at night.  “It is beginning to get dark and I cannot drive well at night.”  You admitted and smiled sheepishly.  

Spencer nodded as you held the keys out to him.  “Statistically, Saturday night is also one of the most dangerous times to drive.”  He told you as the two of you began walking towards the large black Chevrolet.  

“Did you read that in an article from Boston University?”  You asked him with a large smile and an interested look in your eyes.  Excitement was evident on your face and Spencer adored it.  

For a moment, Spencer was silent as he thought.  The article was in his head, and he was just trying to determine where he read it.  “I do believe it was.”  

You laughed gently.  “I wrote that article six months ago.  It was my first big project for journalism, and it took ages to gather the data from the Department of Transportation in each state.  They do take their time replying to inquiries.”  You laughed again and shook you head as you climbed into the vehicle. 

Spencer hummed.  “You article was very well written.”  He told you slowly and glanced at you as he climbed in the driver’s side of the large vehicle.  

The compliment had made your day.  A broad smile crossed your face and Spencer could suddenly see the David Rossi in you.  Your smile was worth all the money in the world, and as the sun set and the stars were revealed, Spencer felt as if the stars were shining for you.

~.~

As the case came to a close, Spencer had become very close with you.  He had hovered around you every chance he was given, and he was allured by every move you made.  He was also very impressed with how well you did with the entire case, even helping him determine how to find the unsub.  You were a vital part of the case, and Spencer did not want to have you leave once you returned to Quantico.  

As the team boarded the jet, David Rossi sat down on one of the tan leather couches with his arm around you.  He was telling you how proud he was with you maturity and how well you did, and you were all smiles.  

Spencer sat across from you, watching the family interact closely, and listening to what they had to say.  “It was an amazing experience, and I look forward to hearing more about what everyone does.”  You said and smiled to your uncle.  

Spencer’s eyes travelled along your collar bones, taking in youe beautiful structure.  You wore a v-neck black shirt with black dress pants, and you were simply enticing to him.  In Spencer’s mind, your skin and bones turned into something beautiful and he could not get enough of it.  He craved your attention and wanted nothing more than for you to stay in Quantico with the team.  He feared you leaving back to Boston, and not being able to see you again.  He knew that he would have nightmare about you being murdered once you were gone, and he would want nothing more than to travel up to the busy city to see you.  

“Spencer?  Are you all right?”  Emily Prentiss asked, jolting him from his shameful thoughts.  You were David Rossi’s niece, and, in other words, you were entirely off limits.    

Spencer nodded as you glanced over to him.  He looked at you and spoke, “I’m fine.”  He said airily.  

You glanced back to your uncle, who was speaking with Agent Hotchner, but finished when he felt your eyes on him.  “I think when I graduate in two weeks, I am going to move in with you, if that’s okay.”  You said quickly with a small smile on your face.  

David Rossi beamed.  “I would love to have you, (Y/N).  Perhaps, I could even convince Strauss to give you a media specialist job.”  He wondered and glanced at Agent Hotchner, who was smirking.  

“That would be wonderful!”  You told him excitedly, and in all honesty, Spencer was more excited than you.  

~.~

The jet finally landed, and it was already time for you to head to the airport to catch your flight back to Boston for classes the next morning.  Exams were this week as well, and you were anything but prepared.  

After a long goodbye from the team and your uncle, you stood outside of the FBI building with your phone in your hand, texting your parents that you were on your way to the airport as you waited for your taxi.  

Spencer half jogged out of the entrance, looking for your desperately with a book clutched tightly in his hand, until he spotted you waiting near the curb.  “(Y/N)!”  Spencer called, getting your attention.  

You turned, confused, but happy to see Spencer.  “Spencer?  Did I forget something?”  You questioned and glanced at the book in his hand.  

“This is one of my favorite books.”  He said quickly and glanced at it.  “I would like for you to read it, and perhaps tell me what you think when you’re back in town?” He asked quickly and nervously.  He held the book out to you, and you took his graciously.  

You hummed, but smirked, as you turned the book over in your hands, admiring it.  “Are you asking me on a date, Spencer?”  You asked quietly with a blush reaching onto your features. 

Spencer blushed harder than you, and he nodded nervously.  “I suppose I am.”  He admitted and glanced at the taxi approaching the curb.  He wasn’t ready for you to leave quite yet.  

You glanced at the taxi as well, and picked your duffel bag off of the ground.  “I would love to and I look forward to reading your book.”  You told him and stood on your toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, and stepping back to climb into the taxi with the book clutched tightly in your hand.  Before the taxi left, you rolled the window down and said quietly, “Until next time, Doctor.”  Then, you were gone.  And Spencer was anxious to see you again.  

I Need You

I Need You

Word count: 4.1K

Genre: angst, romantic smut

This was a request from @roleplaymeranda , hope you like it :)


You were antsy, waiting for Jungkook at home. This was the third night in a row that he’d gone out with his co workers. You were glad that he had friends at his new job. He had honestly worried so much about starting to teach at this new school. It was new and prestigious and he’d only graduated two years ago, but he had rocked his interview just like you knew he would.

You two had been married for a year and three months and even had a little dog named, Buster. It was true, the first year of marriage was hard. Despite the fact that you had dated for four years before he asked you to marry him. You’d met in college but you knew him before you’d became friends.

You had seen him in one of your classes a semester before one of your friends, Jimin, had introduced you. You thought he was gorgeous. You were in a class of over one hundred people and you sat toward the side, in the middle,  near the door. Jungkook had sat in the front row, in the middle. He was very sweet and always ready to answer questions, the teacher loved him. Luckily, you had taken a class pretty much exactly like it in high school because you definitely didn’t pay attention to anything but him.

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External image

i would really like to read more tcoh fic!

Your wish is my command, anon. I don’t think I ever posted this one:


Is The New Prince K Here To Stay?

Exclusive interview by Hani Sereson

I’m late for my interview with Prince Kiem, everyone’s favourite royal, because I get lost. He and his partner have moved to a bigger suite of rooms in the other wing of the palace, with two studies, their own kitchen, and a spare bedroom. “I don’t really use the kitchen,” confesses Kiem when he sees me looking, “but Jainan makes me breakfast sometimes.”

Does he never return the favour?

“I tried once,” says Kiem, with the roguish grin familiar to everyone who’s followed his career of scrapes and scandals over the years. “The firemen made me promise never to do it again.”

What about the spare bedroom? It’s what everyone wants to know. The rumours have been flying ever since Prince Kiem got his startling new diplomatic appointment, suggesting that the Emperor has finally joined the rest of us in the fan club. Is there going to be an addition to the family for Iskat’s favourite love story?

Kiem laughs. “Come on, Hani!” he says. “I thought this interview was about my job?”

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Andre Burakovsky #1.2

PART ONE // PART THREE

id0lizes said: This is literally my family, including what they want in their coffee. Spot on lol. More pls!!!

Anonymous said: can you do a part 2 to the andre imagine please?

A/N: Alright so this got a little long my apologies, but hope you liked it!

Word Count: 2,422

Originally posted by tjgoalshie

Playoff games were the core of stress in your house these past few days. Washington was standing strong at the top of the standings and somehow Andre seemed to forget all about that and see the worst in what could happen in tonights game. 

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Social Media HCs!!

STARISH

Natsuki

He has a hard time deciding which form of social media he prefers when it comes to Twitter, Instagram or Snapchat…So, he uses all three of them faithfully. He has specific purposes for each platform. When he wants share abstract thoughts, he takes to Twitter. When he wants to share pictures of his cute new hat, his adorable dessert, or a photo of Elizabeth he runs to Insta but when wants to talk to his audience about how his day went, give a sneak peek of what a day in his shoes is like or embarrass his friends he uses Snapchat.


Tokiya

He has a public account for everything except FB. It is the only private form of social media he has. He has a small amount of friends because his FB is limited to real childhood friends and family. It is under a different name. He never saves his FB profile photo to a picture of himself either. He does this so that it would be fairly difficult for just anyone to find him. He has a Twitter and Instagram but they’re generally only ever used for promotional purposes. They’re usually ran by a PR team rather than himself. Every now and then, he’ll delight fans by allowing his team to share a candid photo of him to his Insta.


Cecil

He’s an Instagram fanatic. If he’s not in a group chat harassing his friends, he’s on Instagram sending love to fellow idols and sharing adorable selfies. He loves to follow fans back and blow up their notifications because he knows it makes them happy. He replies back to comments as much as he can.  Aside from Insta, you can find him and his smiling face on Snap along with a video of Camus pretending to be sweet when we all know that once the camera goes off, Cesshi is getting his ass handed to him.


Ren

He has every single social media account you can possibly think of. His username is always something along the lines of @theRealJinguujiRen. He uses Instagram faithfully. He doesn’t follow everyone back so if a fan gets a follow they must be pretty special. In fact, if he does follow a fan back, it’s for reasons. He has gotten into trouble for DMing fans so he doesn’t do it as often as he used to. He doesn’t have a FB account and has gone a public record stating that. He urges fans to understand that although the accounts may say it’s the real Ren Jinguji, it’s really not and to steer clear of them. There are many Instagram users that follow him and has no idea that he even sings for a living. They just follow because he’s nice to look at. He uses his Twitter for promo purposes. His Snapchat is private and he only shares it with people that he knows well in real life. It’s practically impossible to find. He’s gotta have something for himself, right?


Otoya

One may speculate whether or not he actually lives on Twitter. He uses his Twitter for both personal use and promotional purposes. Fans can take to Twitter if they curious about how much water he drank that day, if he skipped a meal or if he’s working. Trust me, they can find it all if they want. He is not one to think twice before posting and once he nearly exposed a Starish project in pre-production. The agency put him on probation and they had to monitor everything before he posted it. But, since he updates so often, they gave up and left him with a slap on the wrist. His Snaps are often silly videos of him joking around with [read: annoying Tokiya] the others.


Syo

His Snap is LIT at all times. He is that person that just makes you hate that your life isn’t theirs. He always seems to be having more fun than anyone else in the world. His stories be centuries long if we’re just being real but they’re so entertaining you can’t look away. Otoya and Natsuki make appearances in his snaps on a regular basis. His Instagram is a more humble look at his life, shockingly. He usually posts photos of himself and the others in the studio or on the set of an interview with captions like: ‘All in a day’s work,’ ‘So ready for you guys to see what we’ve got in store for you ;),’ ‘Love my job!!’


Masato

Have you ever witnessed your grandparents using Facebook?  Okay, good. Imagine that but instead of Gma or Papa, imagine Masato. Haha. Just kidding. He’s not that bad but he’s not what one would call proficient. His Twitter and Insta are half-ran by a PR person and half-ran by himself. He’s never sure what he should or shouldn’t post so the promotional posts always outweigh the candid posts.  Go to his Insta if you want to see a candid video of him, playing the piano and singing! On the rare occasion that he does actually post on his own, it’s always something like a photo of a beautifully prepared meal with the caption: ‘Itadakimasu!’, a picture of a waterfall he visited or some shit and on the rarest of occasions, a stunning selfie. He doesn’t use Snapchat but that doesn’t stop him from making appearances in anyone else’s snap.


QUARTET NIGHT

Reiji

He is another guy that lives it up and doesn’t mind sharing all of his good times with the public. He’s most active on his Snapchat. He loves giving fans a behind the scenes look at his life. He once made an entire Story he called ‘Getting Ready with Onii-chan!!.” Fans were able to witness a shirtless idol, walking around his place with bedhead and a bonus cooking class. Did anyone really care about the cooking class? No. He was still shirtless. Glorious? Everyone else thought so. Anytime he meets a fan out in public (non-work related) he features them on his Snap. The other members of QN are often shown in his Stories as well. Now, whether or not they wanted to be is up to your interpretation.


Ranmaru

Although he has an account on every mainstream social media platform there is, they’re all ran by his PR team. He has 0 dealings with them. He is more interested in spending his time watching Youtube videos.  He has an account that is oddly named and he lives in the comfort of knowing he can comment and like any video he wants without having to think twice about what it could do to his reputation. Not only does he not have to worry about being stalked by fans but there’s no way for his activity to be monitored by the agency.


 Ai

He’s more of a forum kind of guy because he’s always interested to learn other people’s opinions on things. But if he had to choose at least one popular social media platform that he uses often it’d likely be his Twitter account. He prefers it to Insta and Snapchat because it is the most impersonal form of social media. To him, social media is just another way to stay relevant with his audience. He can post the most abstract thing and generate thousands of like and RTs which gets the job done.


Camus

It’s not that he tries to rub the idea that he lives a better life than you in your face, it’s just that…. He truly does live a better life than you and you just have to accept that as fact. He likes to pretend that he doesn’t care about social media but the truth is, Instagram is his guilty pleasure.  Just one look at his elegant aesthetic and you’ll know how much time he spends on it. To be fair, at first he wasn’t interested in the app but after time went on he found himself curious and voilà now he has the most beautiful Instagram you’ve ever laid eyes upon. Honestly, his Insta makes even the wealthiest people look like peasants.

Mercy

Summary:  This is for  @sanjariti ‘s Challenge.  My word was “Mercy”.  Tony Stark has a strange way of dealing with the guilt he feels from the Battle of New York


Characters:  Tony Stark x Reader, background Jarvis background Bruce Banner, mentions of the Iron Legion


Timeline:  Non-Cannon, after New York.  Jarvis is a bit different.  OOC Tony.  You do not need to know Marvel to follow the story. 


Warnings:  Stalking, Non-consensual sexual activities, drug use (not with the sex tho), slow burn smut (but this is a one shot, just a long one).


A/N:  I had a request for some Non-Con Tony. I decided to work it into this story.  I’m not a HUGE Tony person, but I think I did an OK job getting him down.  


Words: 14,406.  It’s a bit long!

Tags: @kellyn1604 @marauderice @divadinag @miiraal @negan–is–god @wayward-mirage @alyisdead @mysacredstardust @xbergiex @owlettrraine @siren-kitten-his @mrssgtjamesbuckybarnes @theariel85 (Just tagging people who may be into it, sorry if you’re not interested!) 

The television showed the monsters attacking the skyscrapers.  You brought your hand to your mouth to stifle the scream. With shaky fingers you dialed your mother’s cellphone and received the beep beep of an unconnected line.  Next you tried your father.  Same response.  Of course it was just because cell phone towers had to be down.  That was it.  You would hear from them in a few hours.  

~~~    
Lone Survivor: Local woman is the last member of her family alive, after parents perish in New York City Attacks.  Who Is to Blame?  

Tony stared at the article.  He could recite the thing word-for-word.  There were hundreds of stories out there like this, all of the seventy-four casualties had family, but the picture of the smiling young woman next to the photo of her crying at her parent’s grave shook him to his core.  

“You’re not responsible for that.”  Bruce took a seat across from Tony. “Why are you torturing yourself?”

“I’m a glutton for punishment.”  Tony dropped the newspaper.  

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