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rosemarydisaster · 4 years

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So, about Bi Caleb

Warning: very long post, discussing bi representation and biphobia.

*Sorry for spelling errors, English ain’t my firts language.

I can’t believe I have to tell you guys, but anyways: Caleb is bi whether he ends with a male character, a female character on a non binary character. That’s what bi people do, you know? they experience atraction for all genders. Saying that a bi character that ends with someone of the opposite gender is straight and queerbaiting is incredibly biphobic.

Yes, Vax was bisexual. Yes, he ended up with Kiki. Get fucking over it.

Now, I can understand why LGBT+ fans may feel disappointed when they tease a “gay couple” but the “straigth” couple ends up being endgame. Notice the quotation marks because there’s not such thing as a straight or gay couple for a bi person. They are bisexual in both situations, but I can see where the problem comes from. I’ve been queerbaited to hell and back by a lot of shows and it really hurts. It feels like they are laughting at you for caring. But I want those fans (whose feelings are totally valid, don’t get me wrong) to consider a few things when it comes to Critical Role, the first one being: it’s a D&D game.

Let me explain, because I know a lot of CR fans haven’t experienced what D&D is like in real life (and that’s absolutely valid, you don’t need to play D&D to enjoy CR). This is an improvisation game, not an scripted TV show. In a Tv show you can plan ahead of time what ship is going to be endgame, what themes are gonna come up for each character and it’s easier to deeply explore sexuality and gender as different planned arcs. In D&D you character’s sexuality may or may not come up depending on how you play it. Take for instance how other CR character’s have stated their sexuality:

Beau: overtly. Very *In your face* kind of lesbian. Marisha said “fuck it, I really just want to romance girls and be bad ass”

Yasha: openly, but not as in your face. Ashley Jhonson wanted to drink from that WLW cup while also being a shy disaster. Seafood market is her favored terrain.

Caduceus: Our Ace king has never hidden his sexuality, and yet he didn’t mention anything about it until chapter 114. He didn’t had the need to either hide it or state it. He was simply vibing.

I think Liam is going that route with Caleb. He’s flustered by Essek and Edwulf (Come on you guys, he always asks Matthew if he’s still hot). He also had/has a thing for Astrid and a think he might have feels for our favorite Tiefling gal. I know we are all too used to characters being teased as gay/bi only to have execs pull a “haha jk they be straight”. But this is not Sherlock or Supernatural. This is a show that not only has queer rep, but also supports queer organizations and creators. Hell, I’m sure some of the cast members are LGBT (but I’m not here to speculate on real people’s sexuality). If Caleb shows attraction to men he is not just queerbaiting, doing it for fanservicing or tricking the fans in any way shape or form: he’s just portraying a bi character. The thing is, since this is not a TV show, he is not doing it por woke points or to send a message. He’s doing it because he wants to play a bi wizard with depression.

So maybe there will be a point in which he can explores his sexuality more deeply, but remember he is playing a game. And his character is one that has a lot of trouble opening up to his feelings. Caleb is not someone that makes sexual jokes or flirty remarks. He is shy, awkward and has developed a really fucked up sense of love that he is now slowly fixing. Hell, in the same Talks episode Liam explained that Caleb was trained on Honey-pot tactics. Which, for those of you who can’t stand Bond films, means seducing your enemy/target to get information, manipulate them or assassinate them. WHICH IS A REALLY FUCKED UP THING! Let’s remember how he was the one to push Fjord to sleep with Advantica so they could spy on her. That boy has Issues when it comes to relationships. So if we don’t see him being as overtly gay as Beau, Molly or Yasha, well maybe it’s because that’s the way Caleb is. Bi people don’t owe you flamboyance, or dating both guys and gals for your approval. I wouldn’t make a post if it was only that, because I do feel the people who are aching for good bi rep and would love some more explicit confirmation. But Vax exists, so I know we can’t have good things down here.

VAX EXPLICITELY SHOWED ATTRACTION TO GILMORE. AS EXPLICIT AS IT GETS. HE FUCKING KISSED HIM. THEY WERE PRACTICALLY DATING. AND YET SOME OF YOU FUCKERS CALL HIM QUEERBAITING. AND I SAY: NOT ON MY WATCH! NOT ON MY FUCKING WATCH!!

How come a character can have canonically kissed another character in a romantic/sensual context and still be called straight? I know fucking Sherlock traumaticed y’all into having trust issues but believe me when I tell you: I’ts not that deep. This is not a “Haha I love u but in a no homo way bro”. It’s a “full homo darling, but also we’re gonna break up because I like someone else”. This is the opposite of queerbaiting. Instead of keeping a charade he was honest with Gilmore because he valued his feelings and realized that he couldn’t reciprocate them at that moment. And if you try to tell me that Vaxleth was forced and didn’t have a reason to exist except queerbaiting, let me tell you: you are wrong.

Vax saw Gilmore once or twice monthly while he spent a heck ton of time with Kiki. Sure, they didn’t had the kind of camera chemistry Gilmore and Vax had because Keyleth is not charismatic. She’s really awkward, and her relationship with Vax was more on the adorable and dorky side of things. I bring this up because I’m predicting something similar may happen to Shadowgast.

Trust me, I ship the hot wizards as much as any other critter (even though I’m a multishipper). But they haven’t talked to Essek in centuries. I think it may have been almost a month in rol and quite a few outside. And you have to take into account out-rol time to because they are humans (except Tal) playing a game and they forget about stuff (except Marisha and Matt). So Shadowgast may not happen because sure, they had really good chemistry for a month a month ago. People have crushes that die down over time All The Time. So maybe don’t be so butthurt about your ship not being canon that you accuse an ally of homophobia.

The cast of CR put forward such an amazing representation for the LGBT+ community and it really hurts me that you gets stuck on the one thing that isn’t canon. Matt has created a world in which coming out is not necessary because no one assumes your sexuality. A world in which people respect pronouns and orientations (except Tary’s father, who is a villain). A world in which Cad or Caleb don’t need to explicitly say “I’m ace/bi” unless it comes up in conversation. A world in which his friends can be whatever they want to be without pressure or reprecusions. A world in which they get to explore different gender identities and sexual orientations with full freedom. Let’s not interfere with that (unless there’s missrepresentation), and let them play their game. If you really need mlm or wlw canon couples or more outwardly LGBT+ people you have plenty examples among NPCs and other cast members (Allura and kima, Yasha, Beau, Dairon, Keg, Reani, Tary, Molly and Vax among others).

There’s way worst shows taking LGBT+ cred for barely doing nothing. Fucking Supernatural is the most recent example! Critical Role works towards showing an honest portrayal of LGBT+ folk and accepts valid criticism from their fans on the subject (when they changed J’Mon Sa Ord pronouns from it to they/them). They don’t owe you making your ship canon or portraying their characters the way you want them to (again, unless when it’s constructive criticism). Stop being so Fucking entitled and enjoy the show for what it is

,Respectfully~

*Edit: I´m tagging Caleb’s ships into the post because most hate comes from shipping wars. Most Shadowgast fans are respectful of the cast’s decisions, even if it disappoints them. But since I’ve already seen people accusing Liam of biphobia in that tag and since I’ve already seen this shit with Vaxmore I’m tagging the ship. If you want to read my long ass post do it, if not, ignore it. I’m not forcing you to read it. I’ve also tagged it with biphobia so people can avoid it if it’s triggering. I’m sorry if it makes you mad that your ship is not canon, but that’s not an excuse to be toxic to the cast. Those of you getting mad are the ones that need to read this the most. Like I’ve said in the post: you’re allowed to be disappointed, you are allowed to want more, but you can’t force the cast to give you exactly what you want. And most certainly, you can’t accuse them of some very serious stuff like biphobia and queerbaiting when it’s not the case..

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basilone · 3 years

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For the characterization thing, how about Ron Speirs? If you don’t mind, of course

Don’t mind at all! Of all canon characters, Ron is the one I’ve written most (and feel most comfortable writing). I’ll try to keep this as concise as the other characterization notes, haha, but truth of the matter is that I could fill a small book with this. 😊

You see, Ron surrounds himself with stories. Ask people what they think of him and you will get a multitude of answers, which then may or may not be true. A story, after all, depends on the one doing the telling.. and Ron is rarely the one doing that. He will lean into whichever story suits him best at the time and doesn’t much care about how honest it is as long as it serves purpose. Ron is practical and goal-oriented like that: whichever method gets the desired result is the one he’ll jump atop of and wrangle, even when the method in question is morally questionable in nature.

Ron adheres to his own code. He’s got a strong idea of what he considers to be right or wrong and isn’t easily swayed from that by outside influence. You might call him stubborn, sometimes even obstinate, but that doesn’t mean he solely marches to the beat of his own drum. Ron is a tactician at heart who’ll observe a situation, get the lay of the land by listening to those around him and watching people, and who’ll then make quick snapshot decisions to gain the most from the situation at hand. He categorizes things and people as being either useful or not useful to whichever objective he’s set his sights on.

And, well, this really means one thing: Ron does not suffer fools at all. He demands a lot from people and pushes them to meet his (sometimes impossible) standards. He doesn’t have the time to play 100 rounds of Q&A and interrupting his business with what he considers to be inane stupidity is likely going to subject you to a showing of Ron’s hair-trigger temper. He’s got a bite to him that’s every bit as bad as his bark, and sometimes it’s very much a keg-meet-gunpowder situation, but he tends to channel the majority of that straight into his dealings with the enemy.

Toward people who aren’t his people, Ron is standoffish and sometimes even casually brutal. He doesn’t mince his words and can be utterly ruthless when the situation calls for it. Sometimes literally cut-throat, he is often the first to put himself out on the line where the danger is and will charge headfirst into a situation. Some might think he’s impulsive, but I can promise you that Ron’s already five steps ahead and knows what he’s getting himself into. Which isn’t to say that he isn’t addicted to the rush a fight gives him, though, because he is. The man just cannot sit still and isn’t one to wait things out.

On a personal level, with people who’ve somehow wormed their way past Ron’s many layers and walls, Ron’s very giving. He cares, okay? He has genuine interest in how someone is doing, but also knows when to give them space. He’s a little bit allergic to overly emotional displays, but at the same time Ron is someone who feels really deeply and doesn’t always have the words for it himself. He’s prone to giving gifts or spending time with someone he’s fond of, but he won’t usually come out and say directly what they mean to him. Once he’s devoted to someone, though, he’s all-in: Ron is very loyal to people he cares about and will do whatever it takes to keep them safe.

#ronald speirs #characterization notes

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meandmypagancrew · 4 years

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Maybe What You Think Of Me Won’t Change

Did you guys know that in addition to being a gifmaker and a dollmaker, I’m also a writer? I know! I am a woman of many talents most mediocre and useless. Anyway, I wrote this little fic about Clark and Farrah from We Are The Tigers, so if you’re into that kind of thing, give it a read under the cut!

It wasn’t super uncommon for Farrah to suddenly come to and not know where she was or how she got there. So when, in her drunken haze, she had a sudden moment of clarity and found herself outside by a dumpster, she groaned. In the dim light from a streetlight, she took stock as she pushed one of her braids over her shoulder. Clothes? Still on. Phone? Not dead. Purse? There. There wasn’t any vomit or blood or anything. All in all, not the worst night she had ever had.

As she got on shaky feet, she tried to remember what had happened. Marissa had picked her up, and they went to a house party at Rich’s. She had a few flashes of the party, a red solo cup in her hand, Liz doing a keg stand, Kayla and Jason trying to subtly sneak upstairs- but then nothing. Fuck. There was no one around, so how was she supposed to get home? She pulled out her phone again and clicked the home button, being greeted by a picture of Tom Holland as Spiderman- her favorite celebrity crush- and the time 3:42. It was a Thursday, but still summer, so thank God she didn’t have to worry about being up for school.

She pushed that thought to the back of her mind. First she needed to get home. She unlocked her phone- her home screen was a picture of her and her mom when she was born, which caused her to squint, both because of the lighter color scheme being brighter and the memory of her mom- and clicked to her contacts. Family was strictly out of the question, Annleigh would kill her for waking her up, her stepmom hated her, and her dad wouldn’t be mad but he’d be so disappointed he would probably cry the entire way and making your dad cry is a soul crushing experience.

She sat back down as she scrolled through her contacts. Party friends. A guy who was her partner for a chem project last year. Former Captain Kimberly, future Captain Riley. A guy who was rumored to be a drug dealer, but was only her contact for buying alcohol. Her first try was Marissa- she got her into this, it seemed only natural she’d get her out, but it went straight to voice mail. She kept looking, her drunk mind trying to think. Her finger tapped on Bridget, a girl who had been a cheerleader at Giles Corey but transferred back to public school after her dad had been laid off. They weren’t close, but Bridget had shown her the ropes when she joined the team, and she was a night owl so she should still be awake.

Before the first ring even finished, her usual deadpan voice answered.

“What.” She said, and Farrah struggled to not sound as drunk as she was as she responded.

“Bridged?” Despite her best efforts, her speech was a little slurred. “Canyou comeaaand git mee?”

“Farrah, it’s almost four AM.” Her voice still had no inflection. Even when sober, it was very difficult to discern where Bridget was standing, and if you were getting anywhere with her. Drunk? It was pretty much impossible.

“Yeeeeaaaaaaah… but Imm stuuuuuuck.”

“No.” Was the response, unusually harsh for Bridget.

“Whaa…?” She asked, though she was pretty sure she heard her correctly. It just didn’t seem right. Bridget wouldn’t just abandon her like this, right? As she had so astutely noted it was almost 4 AM- she was the only person who would be awake.

“No. I’m not your babysitter, Farrah. You got yourself into this mess, take some goddamn responsibility for your actions.”

“Buuu… butMarissa took meee dribking-“

“Did Marissa force the alcohol down your throat?” Bridget asked, a little too abruptly and Farrah didn’t respond. She knew she was right, and Bridget knew from her silence she had hit the nail on her head. “You made a choice. You deal with the consequences.”

The line went dead. Bridget’s words were true, but how the hell was Farrah supposed to get out of this? Buses weren’t running this time of night, she didn’t even know where she was, let alone how to get home- she needed help.

As she resumed scrolling through her contacts, a very depressing thought hit her. She didn’t have anyone to call. She was the girl you call for a party, not the girl you depend on when you need help. She didn’t have a single true friend she could depend on right now. There were no clutch friends. To put it quite frankly, she was completely fucked.

As she settled in against the dumpster to wait for daybreak, hoping the sun would bring with it some ideas, a memory she didn’t know she had came to the forefront of her mind.

“I think she’s asleep.” A voice that must have been Annleigh’s said in her memory.

She was lying down, but her eyes were closed. From the lights that occasionally shone through her eyelids, the soft rumbling, and the feeling of movement, she must have been in the backseat of the car.

“Okay.” Came another voice, male- Clark. “I’ll carry her in when we get there.”

“You don’t have to do that!” Annleigh immediately replied, and Farrah could picture the heart eyes she was almost undoubtedly making. “You’ve already done so much, helping me come get her.”

“Don’t mention it.” He replied. “I’m happy to help.”

“You must get tired of it.” Annleigh replied with a sigh. “I mean, she’s not even your family.”

“Well, first off, we are all sisters and brothers in the eyes of our Heavenly Father,” She could hear the smile in his voice, and a gentle sound of contact as if Annleigh had playfully hit his arm. When he spoke again, though, the smile was gone. “In all seriousness, though, your family is my family. I will always be there for Farrah, because I love her like a sister.”

The conversation turned to some boring bullshit about theology, so she had tuned it out. But her mind kept coming back to that promise. Did he mean it? Did he say it just because he thought it would win him brownie points? Either way, it was her last possible option, so she navigated to his contact and hit call.

After a few rings, his groggy voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Clark?” She asked, and she could almost feel him snap awake.

“Farrah? What’s happening? Is Annleigh okay? Are you okay?”

“Iiii’m fiiiiine. I need a riiide.”

Clark exhaled, and she felt a little bad for waking him up. He was probably going to do thing Bridget had. This was a speculator waste of time for everyone.

“I’m…. I don’t knoooow…”

“Do you see any landmarks?” He asked, his voice patient even though she could hear him moving about, probably grabbing his keys and heading out.

“Let me… check…” She stumbled a little bit, struggling to hold the phone and climb to her feet. “Oof, okay…”

“Farrah, what’s going on?” He asked, and she waved it off before realizing he couldn’t see her as she meandered out of the alley to the street.

“Iiiit’s fiiine. You worry too much!”

She put a hand on the wall to steady her as she took stock of her surroundings. Sure enough, she was at a bar, but she didn’t recognize the name and found it highly unlikely Clark would either. Most of the storefronts were dark, and even the ones that weren’t, she felt like the words were spinning in front of her.

“What do you see?” He asked, and she scrunched up her face.

“Uhhh…” She stalled but then she saw it. She thought it was maybe the most beautiful building she had ever seen in her life, down at the end of the street. “There’s a castle…”

“A… castle?” He asked, confused.

“It’s all white. It’s so pretty. It has flowers.”

“An all white building?” He tried to clarify. “The hospital?”

“No… there’s a man on the building…” She had to squint, but sure enough.

“A man on a castle that’s white with flowers?” The skepticism in his voice was so evident that even in her state she could pick up on it and it annoyed her.

“He’s golden!” She insisted, just wanting him to believe her, that she wasn’t hallucinating.

“A golden man on- the Mormon temple?” He asked, which Farrah couldn’t say for sure, but it seemed like the best bet. “Farrah, are you at the Mormon temple?”

“Nooo… I’m in front of a bar down the street…”

“Okay. Okay. Hold on.” Clark said as Farrah leaned against the wall, already feeling a hangover starting to set in. “I’ll be there in five minutes. Can you hang on for five minutes?”

“Yeah…” She replied, closing her eyes against the light filtering through the bar’s windows.

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

Once he hung up, she pocketed her phone after making sure it was on vibration in case something happened. She had considered doing something on her phone while she waited, but even on the lowest setting, it seemed so bright it might burn her. Out of sheer boredom, she started to undo her braids. After all, even if she slept in them, she’d have to redo them tomorrow, because they’d be messy.

Just as she was relocating her second hair tie to her wrist, and shaking out the braid, the door to the bar opened, and a man walked out. Farrah didn’t notice him at first, busy combing her hair out, but he sure noticed her.

“Oh, hey, pretty girl.” He said and she looked up into eyes that looked at her like she was less of a person and more of a meal. Ugh. She had met so many predatory men like this, and she really wasn’t up to it right now. “What are you doing out here all alone?”

“My ride is coming.” She said, both as an answer to the question and a way of informing him that there was someone who knew where she was supposed to be, so he better not try anything.

“I can take you wherever you need to go, baby.” He was almost purring, which was about as unsettling as being called baby by a stranger twice her age. “Especially if where you need to go is back to my place.”

That statement was punctuated with a wink, and she felt like she needed a shower.

“No, thank you.” She replied, trying to walk the line between being polite enough that he didn’t think she was a cunt and murdered her, but not so polite that he thought she was into him and when she rejected him, didn’t think she was a cunt and murdered her.

“Aw, come on, I can make you feel reeeeal good.”

He started to advance towards her and Farrah took a step back before she realized that would just back her into an alleyway, which was a dead end. She had no option but to stand her ground.

“I said no!” She almost yelled, and he grabbed her arm.

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that.” She tried to struggle against his grip, but he tightened his grip, which only scared her more. He was so much more powerful than she was.

“Get off of me!” Now she was yelling, a hint of desperation in her voice and he grabbed her other arm as well, which she continued to try to resist, but he was too strong.

“I said don’t be-“

“Get away from her!” She heard a car door slamming and while she couldn’t see who it was, she recognized his voice. The dude’s attention was fractured by the interruption, and his grip loosened as he looked over his shoulder. Farrah took advantage of that to pry herself from his grasp, running straight at Clark, throwing her arms around him and clutching the back of his shirt as tightly as she could, squeezing her eyes shut as she buried her face in his chest. He immediately wrapped one arm around her, holding her close.

“What are you, her boyfriend?” He sneered, and the fear in Farrah’s heart didn’t subside much. What even could Clark do? This guy, he looked like he could be a stunt double for Thor. And Clark? Clark could be the stunt double for Captain America- pre-serum.

“I’m her BROTHER!” He said, his voice taking on a hint of fierceness that Farrah had never heard before, and somehow she knew that he was going to protect her, whatever it took. “And she clearly said no, not to mention the fact that she’s 15! Take one more step towards us and I’m calling the cops on you, you pervert!”

There was a very tense moment, a pregnant pause where Farrah could feel Clark’s heart pounding against her forehead. He talked a big game, but he was terrified. If he called their bluff? The two of them together couldn’t even come close to taking him on, especially in her state. But he must have moved away, because she felt Clark exhale.

“Whatever. She’s a fat bitch anyway.” His voice was moving away, but Clark continued to hold on for several moments. He put his other arm around her before pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“Oh, Farrah…”

She pulled away and looked up at him, furrowing her eyebrows at the soft murmur, confused about what he meant. Before she could ask, he pulled away even more to open the door of the car for her.

“Let’s get you home.”

She obediently climbed in, again running a hand through her hair as she checked in the mirror her reflection. Her makeup was a mess and she had definitely seen better days, but the wave in her hair was gorgeous. As Clark got into the car next to her and immediately locked the door, she expected him to say something, but he stayed silent. Even as he started the car and some sort of Christian rock- Switchfoot, maybe?- started filtering through his car speakers, a little distorted because the bass was ruined. If Farrah recalled correctly, that was because when Greatest Showman came out, Annleigh adored it so much that not only did she make Clark take her to go see it in the theatres at least six different times, it was the only thing she would listen to and she would play it whenever he drove her anywhere and was not afraid to blast it.

She expected a lecture, some kind of explosion, but instead he just stared straight ahead, clutching the wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His silence was agonizing, and when she finally recognized their surroundings as he turned into their neighborhood, she braved speaking.

“Are you mad?”

“No.” He answered quickly. It wasn’t snapping at her, just a decisive statement.

“Are you sad?”

“No.” It was said the same way and she exhaled in frustration, feeling like she had to get to the bottom of this before he dropped her off, which would be soon despite the meandering streets of the neighborhood that made little sense- Clark was an expert and could navigate it like nobody’s business.

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Are you annoyed?”

“No.”

“Are you disgusted?”

“Farrah, I’m worried.” He said as he pulled in front of the Victorian manor replica that she called her home.

She was surprised that he cared so much, and surprised at herself that she also felt defensive. As he unbuckled his seatbelt to turn and look at her, she crossed her arms.

“You’re only saying that because of Annleigh. You don’t care about me. Or at least you only care about me as Annleigh’s sister.”

“Farrah, look around.” He said, and she furrowed her eyebrows, turning to him. Look at what? The dark buses that lined the pathway up to the front door? The neighbors across the street who’s porch light was green instead of normal? The empty McDonalds bag at her feet? The little pop figures from whatever weeb shit he was into on the dashboard?

“Do you see Annleigh anywhere?” Her brows still furrowed, she shook her head. Of course Annleigh wasn’t here, she would be inside asleep, like the good little girl she was. “This isn’t an act for her. I’m not even planning on telling her this happened. I’m worried about you because I care about you. Not the Farrah who’s Annleigh’s sister, but the Farrah who’s an amazing flier, the Farrah who knows all the words to Princess Bride and watches it every year on her birthday, the Farrah who hasn’t taken ballet in four years but still sometimes twirls when she thinks no one is looking. I care about the Farrah who goes horseback riding and even if she’s in a skirt refuses to ride side-saddle. I care about the Farrah who hides books in her backpack because she loves to read but would hate for anyone to find out. I care about the Farrah who sits on her phone and pretends not to pay attention to whatever’s on TV but when her dad falls asleep during the middle of an episode and then when he wakes up and asks what he missed, always knows exactly what’s going on. I care about the Farrah who found an abandoned kitten in a rainstorm and took him home and took care of him until she could be rehomed despite the fact that she’s very allergic. I care about the Farrah that named that cat Aaron Purr. I care about that Farrah a whole lot more than I care about Annleigh’s sister.”

She didn’t have a response to that. Clark had only been actively in her life for about a year, since her dad got married, but in that time he had been paying attention. She had gone through the mortifying ordeal of being known by him and she didn’t even realize. But at the same time, even though those things were all true, they all seemed so far away. When was the last time she had danced? Finished a book? Gone horse riding at all? The person he described sounded like such a nice person, she wanted her back. When she realized that, she started to cry.

“Oh- oh, no, no, Farrah, please don’t cry-“ Clark started to panic, placing a hand on her back as she dropped her head into her hands as he continued to move around as if looking for something. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, I just think you’re an amazing young woman and if you keep getting into bad situations like you did tonight, I don’t know what’s going to happen-“

“Help me.” She managed to get out through her sobs, and he suddenly stilled.

“What?”

“Help me. Please.” Once she started, it seemed like she couldn’t stop, even though the plea had to be filtered through sobs and snot. “I know I’m in trouble, but I don’t know how to stop- I can’t stop. I know everyone hates me, even my friends, and I know that it’s gone too far, but I’m scared, Clark, I’m so scared-“

“Hey, hey, shhh…” His voice brought her to an immediate halt, bringing her back to earth. She looked up at him, and even with her smeared mascara, snotty nose, tear stained cheeks, and red, puffy eyes, he didn’t turn away. He didn’t recoil in disgust. He offered her some napkins from a fast food chain he must have found somewhere with an encouraging smile. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll talk to your parents with you about it. If you have to go to rehab, I’ll visit you there and write. A bunch of my friends have sisters about your age, I’ll introduce you to them and maybe you’ll really hit it off and find some better friends. It won’t be easy, but I promise you don’t have to do it alone. Just say when.”

She accepted his offering and transferred her makeup from her face to the little caricature of the Grecian from the Little Ceasers logo, thinking hard about it. Right now was not an option, even with the sun beginning to appear on the horizon, she didn’t want to wake anyone up. But she also knew if she waited too long, she would lose her nerve. She was already starting to waver as she pulled herself back together. Surely things weren’t that bad, right? She could handle it on her own. But Clark was still looking at her for an answer.

“The day after tomorrow.” She finally said, and he seemed a little confused about the random time, so she explained. “The cheer sleepover is tomorrow night. You’re picking Annleigh and I up in the morning. When you drop us off, my parents should be home.”

Understanding the timeline, he nodded. It would give him enough time to research how to be a support system for her, and it would give her enough time to figure out how to backtrack, and tell Clark she didn’t really mean it and she was actually fine. That decided, she sling her purse over her shoulder and opened the car door to get out.

“Farrah?” He asked as she put her foot on the sidewalk, and she turned a little to look at him.

“Hmm?”

The light in the interior turned on when she opened the door, so she could see him clearly for the first time all night. He looked tired, but still as charismatically cheerful as ever, the human equivalent of a golden retriever.

“Chin up, buttercup.”

He gave her shoulder a playful punch and she couldn’t help but smile back before fully getting out of the car. As she walked up to her door, she thought that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad after all. Maybe he could help her find the girl he saw again, and she could be better. As she opened the door she looked back. He was still waiting and gave a small wave. She waved back before taking a deep breath and stepping inside, hearing his car start up again and drive off as the door closed behind her.

#we are the tigers #we are the tigers fanfiction #not a gifset #but still #look what i made #go easy on me please this is my first time posting fanfiction in like over a decade #but i sent it to a few people and they all seemed to like it and encouraged me to post it #so it has been posted

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maletfgrowthblog · 4 years

Text

Mountain Book [COM]

(A commission that I’ve worked on, hope you guys enjoy) When Drew got his hands on a spell book, he decided to have some fun with his friend.

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

In a small town, two men were walking down the street as they spoke to one another.

“I’m just saying, it’s a waste how Marvel made a character like Mastodon and never brought him back again.” One of the men, a short chubby man by the name of Tony said, giving his slightly plump chest a scratch as he spoke about the semi long forgotten hero.

“I know what you mean,” Tony’s friend, Drew, commented back. The other man had a more olive complexion compared to Tony’s pale tone. Drew was also slightly fatter than Tony with his graphic t-shirt and shorts stretching against his body similar to Tony’s own wardrobe.

“But considering how we have Beast and The Thing doing similar plots of trying to alter their appearance back to ‘normal’. So unless Marvel would just keep the superstrong hairy man for a new character plot, I doubt they’ll bring him back.”

“But that’s my point, it isn’t the first time they’ve rebooted characters. Hell, they’ve done it multiple times with the same characters within the same universe even.”

The two men continued their discussion on old characters as they kept walking off, both admitting disappointment in how a big, hairy man that was designed for Mastodon never made a return to the newer comic universe. This was especially disappointing as both men loved the huge man’s design, as they were attracted to the idea of immense, hirsute men.

“Well it’s a shame, maybe someday they’ll release a hot piece of ass like his for modern audiences.” Tony sighed as he and Drew approached their destination, a book store that specializes in interests. Drew had insisted to Tony about giving the place a look when they had passed it by a week ago. It seemed the store offered plenty of books from interests as harmless as cooking to the more ‘risque’ when they saw a man in a harness gear step out of the store.

“I wonder if they carry any comics. Do you have anything specific you want to read?” Tony asked, the two stepping inside and stopping at the entrance, taking in the impressive sight of bookshelves stretching out akin to a classic library rather than a niche’ bookstore that had seemed far too small outside to house such a collection.

“Well I have been getting into the Occult. Maybe I’ll see if they have any growth spells.” Drew commented, earning a laugh and a ‘that would be great’ from Tony as the two walked further into the store, glancing over the shelves and spotting some rather obscure titles that drew their attention.

“Okay, I think this is the fiction section.” Tony commented and pulled a book titled ‘Life as a Two Ton Man’, opening it up and impressed with drawings depicting a massively obese man, seeming crushing a truck under his car sized body as he chugged from a keg.

“Yeah, it is pretty weird this stuff is on display in the front of the store.” The chubby man agreed, looking over some of the titles of the books. Drew paused at the sight of a book titled ‘The Day I Became a Planet’, pulling the book out, Drew whistled at the cover alone showing a huge muscular man being orbited by planet-like objects.

Before either man could look further or decide to head out, a voice suddenly spoke up, surprising the two. Almost dropping the books they had been reading from, the two men turned around to see who had spoken to them. Looking around, Tony and Drew spotted a desk a bit further down the room, neither having seen it when they had entered. Seated behind the desk was a rather old man, a trimmed white beard framing his portly face. A button up shirt covering his body, though the buttons strained against his full chest and swollen belly, tufts of silver body hair peeking out from between the buttons. The smile on his face was inviting, reminding the young men of a kind grandfather.

“Looking for something, boys?” The older man said, smiling as the two browsing men put away the books they had glanced at, returning them to their place before stepping up to the desk the older man sat behind.

��Uh, Yeah. I was seeing if you had any comics?” Tony asked, trying not to openly stare at the huge man’s belly. Seeing the swollen, slightly jiggling orb threaten to pop off his shirt buttons. The older man couldn’t help but let out a deep chuckle before looking over a thick book beside him. The two men blinking and glancing at one another, swearing they hadn’t seen the classic looking index book by the immense elder before.

“Let’s see here, any specific comic you are looking for?” The older man, ‘Klaud’ according to his name tag that was attached to his swollen moob, asked with his eyes still on the tome he was searching through. “I don’t really know. Have anything with big guys?” Tony said back, blinking owlishly with a light blush on his face as he realised what he had just said. The chubby man stammering to try and defend or excuse what he had admitted. Before he could embarrass himself further, the large man interrupted him with a deep chuckle whilst holding a swollen hand up.

“It’s alright boy, people have asked for worse. Let’s see… Ah, here it is.” Klaud said before standing up and leaning forward on his creaking chair before standing up, his belly spreading out over the desk like a slow tidal wave. The older man’s height towering over Tony as he pointed towards a seemingly random shelf a couple of metres away from the desk. “Plenty of big guy comics on the third shelf from the top. I hope you find something you like.” The older man smiled after giving the directions, patting the younger man on the back that forced the younger man to stumble forward. Leaving the slightly dazed Tony to see to the bookshelf, Klaud turned his gaze towards Drew, making the chubby man jump a bit. “Now, how can I help you?”

Drew blinked at the question, turning to glance over at Tony who was looking over the shelf he had been sent to. The young man seemed engrossed with one of the books. The sound of a throat clearing made Drew look back to Klaud, seeing the older man raise an eyebrow as he waited for an answer.

“Well, it’s a bit niche… and embarrassing.”

“I won't judge you boy, I’ve heard plenty of requests.”

“Well… do you have magic books.”

“Parlor tricks or to affect the laws of nature?”

“H-Huh?” “Young man, the books in these walls hold power depending on the reader’s wish. Do you desire a book to teach you sleight of hand and simple tricks to impress your friends?” Klaud leaned forward and whispered in a conspiratorial tone like he was sharing some deep secret. “Or do you want the power to change the world, for better, or worse, or just because you want to get off?”

Drew blinked, swearing the older man’s kind eyes seemed to bore straight through him and into his very soul. Taking a quick glance back to Tony, who seemed engrossed with the book he was looking at.

“Okay… then I want magic to change things.” Drew admitted, sneaking one more look to Tony, before facing Klaud. The older man nodding before sitting back into his chair, making the piece of furniture creak ominously under him, moving to look through an old fashioned note rolex. Klaud’s thick fingers skimming over the paper cards with surprise dexterity before he stopped and pulled one of the cards out. “This should fit your fancy. The shelf is just around the corner, book number M.420-69. You can’t miss it.” Kalud explained, passing the card to Drew whilst said young man did his best to resist the urge to giggle at the rather humorous number the book had.

Giving his thanks, Drew walked around the desk and looked for the bookshelf in question, spotting it and after a quick look over finding the book, this time openly giggling a bit as he saw the number again. However, pulling out the book and reading the title made Drew pause for a moment, trying to make sense of what he saw.

“Transformation and growth for beginners.” Drew read aloud the title, he had to admit that title alone made him excited. Not to mention some of the illustrations that decorated the cover started to pull at his imagination with what the book could supposedly do. Etchings of oddly proportioned men were spread out, each showing a hugely sized man, be it with thick arms that look to use trucks for barbells, or a guy with a swollen belly that would make kegs look tiny.

Lifting up the book, Drew gave the pages a quick flip through. The solid spine cradled in his hand as he looked over, some of the scattered pages slightly brown and crinkling with age. However, some words and illustrations that popped out to him looked too modern compared to the old looking book.

Drew paused on a page showing a suited man side to side to a huge blob like shake that took up more than half the page. Looking it over, Drew recognized the huge blob shape as the previous slim man.

“So I guess this is for some serious weight gain.” Drew commented, seeing how one of the bulges of the blib he assumed was the huge man’s moob was bigger than the original suited man’s entire body. Before Drew could read further, feeling the urge to read aloud the words, a hand clamped down on his shoulder. With a jump, and thankfully not dropping the book, Drew turned to see the impressively tall and thick figure of Klaud standing behind him, his facial hair seeming to curl up with the smile on the thicker man’s face.

“Sorry to surprise you, little guy. But if you want to really enjoy what that book can do, I suggest you and your friend head out.” Klaud said, slowly leading Drew back to the front desk, pausing to scan the book out, and then continuing to the exit. Klaud pointed out how Tony seemed to have finished his own purchase of books and had paid for Drew’s purchase too. “Now I hope you two have plenty of fun with that book you got. I recommend page Seventy-Nine for some real fun, just make sure you have plenty of space.”

“Wait, what?” Drew asked, blinking as the older man quickly handed the old style book back to Drew. Before he could ask about the page suggestion, or how the older and heftier man could seem to move so fast, both Drew and Tony were ushered out of the store with their prizes in hand.

“Well… That was weird.”

“Yeah, it was. But he had some great books, I got plenty of good comics with some huge guys in them. I mean, I haven’t even heard of some of these comics before.” Tony said with a smile on his face, holding up his collection of books with the covers showing goliath sized men clad in tight fitting lycra. “What did you get Drew?” The chubby man asked, the two friends starting to walk back home.

Drew had been thinking over what went on inside the store. Taking a quick glance behind and then looking down at his own book before facing back the eager face of Tony.

“It’s a surprise.” Drew said, ignoring the almost childish whine from Tony, already Drew was thinking what he could potentially do with the spells he now had access to.

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

“Right, so those are the spells.” Drew said in his room, having spent his time following coming home by just looking through the different spells that the book offered him. Of course, all of the incantations focused on the transformation of the human body, all with immense results. Leaning back in his old desk chair, Drew glanced over the list of spells he had written out beside the book, having been picking out potential spells to try out, among them including the one that Klaud had suggested for him.

“This is ridiculous.” Drew said to himself as he shook his head, it was impossible for spells to really work. But that little thought of the spells actually causing growth, even if just a pipe dream, was too tempting for him. “Maybe I should just test one of the spells.” The thought flashed through Drew’s mind. Latching on to it, Drew grabbed the book and flipped through to a random page before making his way to the window and looking out for a random target.

Taking a glance outside, Drew’s eye fell across the street on a random man who seemed to be waiting for the bus. His slim figure was fairly outlined by the sharp dress shirt and slacks he was wearing. Drew kept an eye on him, figuring he wasn’t much older than him, before going back to the spell book and settling on a spell.

‘A weight gain spell. Can’t really beat the classic stuff.’ Drew thought out figuring any growth could be explained away as just metabolism before he read over the steps the spell required. Seeing all he needed to do was focus on his target and not break his line of sight, Drew turned back to the man before saying aloud the spell. Watching the suited man standing by the curb, Drew could only stare, not expecting anything, before his eyes widened at the sight occuring. Watching on, Drew witnessed the man starting to swell outwards like he was inflating. The loose shirt started to tighten with his body broadening out, arms and legs thickening with a look of his swelling ass taking up his backside. Surprisingly, the man seemed unaware of doubling his weight in mere seconds, though he seemed to have begun to sweat profusely.

Another thing that Drew noticed was the man’s clothing looked to be growing with him, seams that had begun to stretch and give up repatching and stretching further, his shirt gaining more buttons as his belly and moobs expanded forward looking like a blimp. Even from the window Drew could see the man’s belt elongating before suddenly being replaced with two belts doing the job of holding up his ridiculously large pants that covered his lower belly, dividing the swell of fat. The growing sacks that were his moobs pushing up the thick slabs of blubber that were his arms. One of the thick limbs rising, revealing the spreading dark patch of sweat that was forming, as a baseball mitt sized hand reached to the growing man’s face to wipe sweat off his forehead. Drew watched the huge man’s face, seeing his neck gone and replaced by a thick ring of fat that fused with his chin. His swollen cheeks resembled the stuffed cheeks of a squirrel, forcing his panting mouth into a pout. Staring at the huge man that rivalled cars in size, Drew felt his eyes ache before finally blinking, when he opened them up and seeing the enormous man had ceased growing. His swollen belly and gigantic ass stretching his clothing as both rested on the ground despite the man seeming to be standing up.

“Holy Shit!” Drew said under his breath, watching the enormous car sized man trying to waddle down the street. Seemingly unaware of suddenly becoming the world’s heaviest land mammal as each broad step saw to the pavement cracking under his larger feet. Still staring at the gargantuan mass of man waddling away, Drew realized with the spell book he could do anything. Quickly flipping through the pages, he stopped on the one he was suggested by Klaud, already thinking of the perfect person to use it on.

“Oh, Tony will enjoy this.”

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

“Hey Tony, you mind getting some empty files from the store room?”

“Oh, sure thing Maurice.” Tony said before pushing back his chair and standing up. The chubby man couldn’t help but take the chance to stretch. His job at the office whilst paying well, unfortunately saw to times where he’d be sitting down for long stretches of time. Though his growing belly pushed out a bit from his shirt, Tony had to admit he relished those moments where he could get up and move about.

Stepping out of his cubicle, Tony kept adjusting his stance and moving from foot to foot. Lately he had been feeling off, his clothing that had fit perfectly the night before were feeling tighter than usual.

“Must have shrunk in the wash.” Tony rationalised, not realising how that logic doesn’t apply to his shoes. Trying to ignore the slight pinch with each step, Tony made his way through the hallway of cubicles. Getting to the store room, Tony couldn’t help but sigh as he saw the step ladder wasn’t in the room where it should have been.

“Come on.” He groaned before stepping to the shelf the file boxes were on, not looking forward to standing on his toes and trying to reach into the shelf. Instead Tony was surprised to find himself eye level with the shelf. Not questioning it, the portly man found it easier to reach for the box files, though he couldn’t help but feel the back of his shirt tighten along with the fabric round his arms.

“Here are those files you wanted.” Tony said as he handed them off before returning back to his seat. Taking a breath and wiping sweat off his forehead. “Did someone turn up the thermostat?” Tony leaned back in his creaking chair before a ‘Ping’ made him freeze. Glancing over his chest towards the desk he saw a lone button against the base of the monitor. Looking down at himself, Tony saw where it came from as his shirt now had an opening exposing more of his hairy flesh.

“Man, I’ve really been snacking.” Tony said, blushing a bit at the sight of his exposed belly, though he noticed a stirring and tight feeling just under his belly that made his light blush darker. Before he could focus on how he seemed to be growing, his mobile gave off a ring that he had gotten a message. Struggling a bit to pull the device out of his tight pocket, Tony felt a smile creep up his face as he saw the message came from Drew.

‘Hey man, want to meet for a meal later? My treat.’

Tony responded back saying sure, though he found himself struggling to type as his fingers pressed different letter keys at the same time. Tony hoped his phone wasn’t breaking, before putting it aside and getting back to work, looking forward to the dinner plan he made with his close friend.

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

“I wonder how Tony is enjoying the new changes.”

Drew thought to himself whilst standing outside a local buffet. The chubby man was eager to see just what the spell he cast did to Tony. Before Drew could wonder for too long, imaging his friend as the immense man he fantasized about, a voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Hey Drew.” The voice sounded familiar but somehow different, deeper. Turning towards its source, Drew held back the urge to gasp at what he was as walking towards him was Tony, only much bigger. Standing easily at more than eight feet tall, the huge man walked closer to Drew. Tony was still wearing his shirt and trousers from work, only both failed to survive the growth of their wearer. The shirt was torn open with the huge belly and chest on full display, bouncing with each step the enormous man took. His sleeves had stretched and ripped apart, showing his thick biceps as the remains of the shirt looked more like a vest, though Drew was certain the back had been torn open by Tony’s broad back. Before Drew could truly take in how Tony’s tree thick legs had torn his pants into shorts, or how his shoes were open mouth scraps with his hairy feet on display, the huge man was before him. Drew found himself face to face with his friend’s hairy belly with his thick chest over him.

“H-Hey Tony. Seems you’ve had a growth spurt.”

“Growth spurt?” Tony blinked at the comment before looking down at himself. “Oh, no. Just my clothes shrunk and I guess I moved a bit too quickly. Figured I’m still decent enough to go out for a meal.” Tony said, oblivious to the look on Drew’s face and the painfully obvious growth that had occurred to him.

“Tony, you burst out of your shoes.” Drew said, pointing down to the exposed toes of his friend as they willed out of the torn remains of Tony’s socks and shoes.

“They were an old pair.” The grown man rationalised, having to bend forward to see over his swollen torso. Tony’s chest brushing against Drew’s head as the huge man cast a shadow over him.

Figuring the spell made Tony ignorant to the clear changes, Drew decided to drop it for now, as he stepped out of his friend’s shadow and led him into the buffet, feeling the ground shake slightly with each dull step Tony took.

“How about we focus on getting a good meal.”

“Sure thing. I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.” Tony joked, though with his size, the low rumble of hunger from his belly, and the spell in place, Drew was sure he could eat the entire barn.

‘Hopefully the buffet has enough food for you.’ Drew thought before they stepped in, noticing Tony had to duck down to keep from bumping his head against the doorframe. The staff and other patrons didn’t seem at all concerned with the huge man entering, besides some grumbles from a few as the enormous Tony bumped his thick legs against some tables on his way in.

“Heh, sorry there. Just these tables are a lot closer than they used to be.” Tony said, blushing slightly as he tried to squeeze between the tables, Drew following behind and getting a good view of Tony’s ass as it kept swelling and stretching out what remained of his pants. Getting to the heating trays, Tony just grabbed a tray without a plate and began to pile food into the tray. Drew could only watch as the huge man lumbered around the stalls, taking snacks and huge mouthfuls with a ladle he swiped from one of the heating trays.

“Tastes good big boy?”

“Yeah, sorry. Couldn’t wait to sit down before taking a bite.” Tony admitted through heavy mouthfuls of food, his cheeks bulging a bit as he ate enough food in one bite that would be a ful portion size for a normal guy.

“It’s okay Tony. Help yourself.” Drew said, barely taking small bites of his own food as he watched the huge man that was Tony gorge himself, practically emptying the trays he passed by. Each bite seeing to further and further growth. His swollen belly spreading forward along with the thick sacks that were his moobs. His swollen biceps bulging with each lift of his thick arms, exposing more of his growing forest of armpit hair. Drew couldn’t keep his eyes off Tony as each movement he made saw to his growing body shifting and jiggling about.

Eventually Tony gave up trying to load food onto his tray and instead abandoned it to lift the heating dishes up and dump the contents into his mouth. The steaming meal doing little to deter the giant man with his throat bulging with each heavy gulp he took. His body surged forward with growth, swelling further as the pitiful scraps of clothing still on him tore and struggled against the growth with a glance down below the growing belly. Drew saw Tony’s underwear on full display with his trousers tearing off, the tighty whities stretched and torn into a kind of speedo, barely containing the massive bulge that was getting closer to eye level with Drew.

'This is going well.' Drew thought, deciding to sit back and watch his friend clear out the buffet as he grew with each bite. Eventually Tony took to getting on his knees, shaking the ground before sticking his large face into the trays, truly making a hog of himself as he stuck his swollen ass out. Taking his eyes off the impressive show of gluttony and growth, Drew saw that the other patrons didn’t seem bothered with the colossal man gorging himself and visibly outgrowing his clothing.

After some time, Tony tossed the final empty heating tray to the growing pile of trays before leaning back. The gargantuan man took up a good portion of the room, his thick legs knocking tables and chairs aside whilst spreading out. Tony’s broad back and swollen ass pressing against the cracking wall behind him. The enormous giant groaned deeply, opening his now beard framed mouth before a booming belch rumbled out of him, shaking the entire buffet and causing Tony’s heavy fat rolls to wobble from the force.

“Oof, that was a good snack.” The gigantic Tony said with a proud pat on his heavy dome of a belly, adding to the show of his jiggling fat. Drew looked on at the giant obese man that his friend had grown into. Thealler man walked up closer to Tony, breathing in the stench of musk th smat was coming off him.

“You cleaned the place out, big guy.” Drew said, walking towards the room filling giant, placing a hand against the wall of fat that was a tire thick fat roll that jiggled above Drew’s head. The smaller man felt his hand sink into Tony’s blubbery body.

“Well yeah, but it’s not my fault this place doesn’t have enough food for this big belly I got.” Tony chuckled deeply, rubbing his belly and causing his body to jiggle as he caressed the huge hair covered mass. Watching on, Drew could see Tony’s body was still growing, though it seemed to have slowed down now that the behemoth had stopped gorging himself. “Think we could try another place before we head home?”

Drew blinked at the question, stepping back as he looked up at Tony’s bearded face, seeing his head and broad shoulders pressed closer to the ceiling. Drew could make out how Tony was leaning forward slightly to keep from breaking through, his chin pressing into his neck fat and swollen chest. The forest of chest hair mixing together with the giant’s dense beard.

“I… you sure Tony? Might have an issue getting you outside.”

“We got me in, so it shouldn't be too hard getting out again.” The enormous giant chuckled before moving forward, grunting slightly as he began to shift his mass to get out. Drew stepped back as far as he could, pressing against the far wall, watching the giant Tony get on his hands and knees. His swollen belly dragging on the ground and crushing the remains of the furniture beneath him. Getting to the double doors, Drew took in the sight of Tony forcing his gargantuan, hairy body out of the wrecked buffet. The sound of the cracking brick and creaking metal filled the area as Tony forced his way through, giving Drew a good view of the deep hair filled charm between the wobbling and bulbous ass cheeks. Hearing the big man grunt with using more force, it wasn’t long before a harsh sound erupted as the wall holding back Tony broke apart with his huge body finally outside, though Drew could see that the now warped door frame was stuck to Tony’s body.

“Oof. They don’t make doors as strong as they used to.” Tony laughed nervously before standing up now that he had room in the street. The tarmac under his feet cracking as he shifted his weight, his impressive body rising with Drew having to step out of the ruined buffet to take in the entire body of his best friend. The smaller man couldn’t help but gasp as he took in the colossus before him. Going up Tony’s thick hairy legs, Drew finally saw the impressively sized cock that had been covered by his belly, now visible as it pressed down towards the halfway point of his thighs. The dick was easily bigger than Drew’s entire body, large heavy drops of pre leaking onto the ground, the immense body part framed by the thick forest of pubic hair and the yoga ball sized testicles that churned with the giant’s growth. Looking further up over the swollen gut, following the trail of belly hair up to the immense moobs that Drew was sure he could hide under. The metal door was straining against Tony’s broad shoulders, the metal dented from a square into a tight oval around the huge giant, before the growth spurts saw it getting tighter and tighter. The giant frowned uncomfortably struggling with the tightening metal, before with a sigh of relief announced the deformed door frame snapping off and landing a distance away, hidden by Tony’s shadow.

“Oh, that feels so good.” Tony said, his huge hands rubbing the markings the door left on him as he started moving down the street. His thick legs forced him to waddle with each step shaking the ground and causing the cars to bounce. Drew struggled to keep up as the earth shook on with his friend’s heavy foot falls. Watching on, Drew took in the sight of Tony’s broad back and wobbling ass, seeing the huge cheeks swaying getting closer to the surrounding buildings. Taking in Tony’s steadily broadening shoulders getting progressively higher and higher, Drew thought back to the spell he had cast.

‘Make the man as big as he desires.’

“Wonder just how big he’ll get.” Drew thought aloud before rushing to Tony’s growing mass, following the increasing craters his feet left before another deep belch erupted out of the giant. (Link to Deviantart :https://www.deviantart.com/fattyfatman/art/Mountain-Book-COM-842170545 )

#Weight gain #male weight gain #giant #macro #hairy #bear #belch #growth #story #SSBHM

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angorwhosebabyisthis · 3 years

Note

Multiples of 6 for the OC asks!

AYYYYYYYYYY THANK YOU

i think for this one i’ll answer each question with three ocs for comparison >:V

(under the cut because, predictably, It Got Long)

6. Do they smoke or do they hate smoking.

(origfic, unnamed superhero verse)

Neil: won’t touch cigarettes, but has been known to smoke a bowl every now and then when his anxiety gets the best of him. he doesn’t like doing it--he’s internalized some pretty negative shit about how it means he’s a trashy, weak-willed loser who can’t handle reality--but since meeting nads and then beth, he’s eased up a lot on the guilt and is able to relax more.

Nads: smokes cigarettes, but only if they’re stolen. she’s got an active lifestyle to say the least and she doesn’t want to risk fucking up her lungs, so that’s her compromise. my god does she love her weed though

Beth: smokes cigarettes to take the edge off her anxiety when she has to go outside during the day. she knows they’re worse for her than weed, but she’s wary enough of her liminal space powers without imagining what they might do if she got stoned.

12. What’s an outfit they’d despise wearing Vs one they’d love wearing? Draw it!

(Tales of Arcadia; i’m godawful at drawing clothes so i’ll just describe them as best i can ashdflkshdfkl)

Liyen: loves comfortable, understated, professional-looking masc clothes, usually in muted shades of gray, blue, or black. give them a fuzzy turtleneck sweater and black pants and they’re happy. meanwhile they’d be SUPER uncomfortable in loud, clashing colors or anything too femme.

Schommag: Does Not Like Clothes That Will Get in Her Way, also not a big fan of dressing femme with very few exceptions (the right Little Black Dress, for example). give her what she needs to get around the woods and stay out of her way. that said she does love showing off her muscles, so she wears a lot of tank tops and sports bras (and sometimes no top at all, if she can get away with it).

Oryalv: VERY femme, particularly business casual. this man loves his pantsuits. meanwhile his nightmare is middle-aged high school coach aesthetic. put him in a t-shirt and khakis and he’ll start pouring smoke like a teakettle

18. Have they ever committed a crime? How? Why? If not, then what’s their opinion on crime?

(origfic, unnamed VALENTINE DON’T DO THAT verse)

Valentine: has been made complicit in a lot of their family’s cutthroat-noble shadiness growing up, is otherwise a law-abiding sort up until they jump off the slippery slope and get the war crime ball rolling in earnest. Whoops

Edmund: has gotten into plenty of cutthroat-noble shadiness of his own volition, thank you very much. unlike valentine he’s a whole lot more inclined to go UHHH and pull up when it comes to war crimes

Marcel: LOVES war crimes. LOVES them. would marry them if he could. lucky for him he’s captain of the guard and has plenty of opportunities. will otherwise use the law as a bludgeon but i don’t think he’s too bothered about it for its own sake

24. Mcdonalds, subway, or KFC?

(Final Fantasy Tactics A2)

Nebilim: subway, grease is sensory hell and makes him sick and it’s the easiest place to avoid it. the number of variables per sandwich make him anxious, but if he has to pick one then fuck it, it’s worth not putting grease in his body.

Moovry: loves grease with all his somehow-still-functioning heart, would bring his own beer keg to KFC and refuse to leave til he’s finished his fourth bucket of chicken

York: MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS. gets the happy meal and then uses the toy to test their black magic minispells. we hardly knew ye, beyblade

30. Have they ever dreamed about another oc?

(Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance, taxidermy/doll horror cw)

Faerna: has dreams about missing his mother sometimes. he hasn’t seen her in a long time, and for all he knows she thinks he’s dead, but he can’t bring himself to go back and look for her when he doesn’t know if she’ll approve of the life he’s chosen for himself. for all he talks himself up, not everyone’s happy to have a thief and a conman for a son.

SkekNev: has recurring dreams about the victims of their taxidermy coming back to life. less of a HOLY SHIT THE DOLLS ARE ALIVE nightmare for them, more of an anger/anxiety nightmare because stop that, stop having autonomy, i made you like this for a reason.

Aivne: dreams a lot about her little siblings. outright nightmares, semi-lucid rehearsals of danger scenarios, memories from before they lost their parents.

36. If they’re nonhuman, what’s their opinion on humans?

(origfic, faeverse)

Aislinng: vampire/incubus, more specifically A Dracula Lookin Motherfucker. depending on how much of a bastard he is in a given au, humans are usually somewhere between ‘fun to dazzle with my Supernatural Charms’ and ‘boring. where are the interesting people to torment’

Meadowsweet: rabbit faun. depending on which of the two wildly different versions of him we’re talking about, he either treats humans with the same goodwill as anyone else who might need his healing, or looks down on them and considers them fair game for whatever evil bastard he’s pining after this week.

Agaric: aislinng’s son with a forest spirit, so fuck if i know what to call him at this point. humans tend to find his brand of quiet, aloof awkwardness either offputting or endearing; either one is mortifying, and he’d mostly rather just keep to himself.

42. What’s their standpoint when it comes to washing hands?

(origfic, bumfuck nowhere cult)

Cristina: obsessed with cleanliness, washes her hands constantly, crissy please you live in the desert

Skinner: if my hands are clean i can’t wipe them on cristina’s robes now can i

Rosemary: who needs to wash hands when you’ve got tentacles ;)

48. If they were defeated fairly in battle, would they accept and move on or throw a fit?

(origfic, slasher movie slaughterhouse dimension)

Maggie: will stay down and let you think she’s beaten, until you take your eyes off her for a second too long. then she’ll go for your hamstring

Dee: will accept it and move on, but will also try to make you feel like winning wasn’t really important anyway. maggie loves her dearly but she is kind of infuriating to everyone else

Esau: is delighted when somebody beats him, because if they’ve gotten that far they’ve committed at least one horrific atrocity and will have to live with that forever (if not embrace it). the real treasure was the corruption and PTSD we found along the way. no wonder maggie kind of hate-connects with him, he reminds her of dee lmao

54. Have they ever lost anyone?

(misc origfic)

Gray: lost the person who summoned them, gave them form, and taught them how to speak. once she died, all they knew was that she’d stopped coming, and that their only friend--their only contact with the world outside the cave--was gone. they’re there alone for a long time before a hitchhiker stumbles across them, and now they’re clingy as fuck and terrified of being abandoned again.

Ashdown: lost her wife the spring before her story begins, which left her so depressed she didn’t bother flying south for the winter with everyone else. she does eventually find love again, after coming to terms with the fact that what she’s lost isn’t the only thing she can ever have.

Jake: lost his older brother as a kid, which might or might not be why some fuck haunting their own fursuit recruits him to help with their unfinished business.

[DYING WHEEZE]

thank you again for the questions!!! i have. so many ocs. SO many ocs, and it’s always fun to get a chance to trot a bunch of them out, especially with a good range of questions like these :D

#the golden ghost #tales of arcadia #dark crystal age of resistance #asks #tag memes #ocs #my ocs #toa tag #origfic tag #my origfic #final fantasy tag #smoking cw #weed cw #dolls cw #origfic group tag #because there's too many to tag all of them on this post asdhfslkdfhsdf

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moon-yeongjun · 4 years

Text

Fathers and Sons || Mu Jun

Summary: This takes place the Taekwondo weekend! Mu-yeol and Yeong-jun drink together and open up to each other. It’s Very Good i love this thread

@baenxietydad

tw: mentions of cancer, death, also alcohol

MARLIN: Jun made the mistake of conceding when the two of them went back and forth about who was going to pay for the alcohol. Mu-yeol would have let Jun pay if he didn’t already feel like rot about him having to pay for the hotel, and if he actually suspected Jun would buy enough to even get Marlin drunk in the first place. A fairy’s alcohol tolerance was no joke; especially a healing talent fairy. It was almost like he needed an alcohol IV to get enough into his bloodstream to get him good and proper pissed. There was no way in hell he’d tell Jun to go out and buy that much alcohol. He’d do it himself and look like he had a drinking problem instead. When he got back to the room, he waited with a smirk and his back turned to Jun for Jun to insist he had gone too hard at the off-licence.

JUN: Jun was already a bit drunk. Of course he was at least a little drunk! His little brother had won, dragging all those other kids across the mat and making the Moon family proud. He’d shouted himself nearly hoarse, almost cried when he was hugging Tae, and could not stop smiling whenever he caught sight of the medal that Jun was forcing Tae to wear throughout dinner. So yes, celebratory drinks! Such things were mandatory when you were the hyung of the T.A.G.B Tae Kwon-Do Cadet English Championship Finalist! They ate a horrid amount of food, Jun had some fancy cocktail he couldn’t remember the name of, and soju, of course soju, they all, even Tae-yah and Nam-min-ie, had a little soju. Just a little. Now the boys had gone back to their room to stuff their mouths full of sweet and salty snacks and pass out. Jun, however, just a little drunk, asked his hyung-nim if he would like to keep drinking with him. It was a night of nights, eh? The weather was perfect for drinking. Now though? “Yahhhhhhhhh,” Jun exclaimed and then laughed. “What are you doing? Are you trying to drown me? This is enough for Tae-yah’s whole taekwondo team!”

MARLIN: Marlin laughed and shook his head. Oh, Jun. You’ll see. Soon enough, you’ll see. “You won’t be saying that for long.” Mu-yeol said with a devious grin. “You’ve obviously never tried drinking with a fairy before.” It would take him probably an entire bottle of liquor and some change to feel a buzz, more to be proper drunk, and even more to wake up with a hangover the next morning. He was trying to drink in the proper drunk range, but there’s no telling. Maybe Jun is a surprisingly fun drinking buddy and he’ll lose track of how much he’s drinking. “I can’t drink in public because I get cut off before I even get drunk.” JUN: He rolled his eyes at Mu-yeol, but he reached for a bottle of the soju and beckoned for him to sit down. They did not have a proper table in this hotel room-- just a desk, the one desk chair, their two beds, and a small nightstand between the beds. Thus, Jun had determined the nightstand to be their table of sorts, with both of them using the beds as seats. Jun put the soju glasses down and poured Mu-yeol’s drink. “Ah, you fairies, eh, must you be better at everything?” he joked as he poured. “Should get ahead of me then, I’ve not been drunk since--” When was the last time? Jun scoffed and laughed, shoulders shaking. “I don’t even remember.”

MARLIN: Marlin chuckled when Jun instinctively poured his soju. Damn, Jun really was Korean. Though he was more surprised that Jun acknowledged the fairy thing with a joke so comfortably. “Depends on the fairy. Like, my sister and one of my brothers get drunk a little quicker because they aren’t healing fairies. Nemo needs me to heal his nose when he breaks it, but when I drop kegs on my toe at work it heals itself.” He explained with a shrug. He smiled sadly at Jun. of course it had been a long while since Jun was able to proper drink. He had to become his father so fast. “May 18th, 2006.” Three days after So-yeon was murdered. He left Nam-min with his parents for the night while he and his siblings went to human Daegu and they let him get embarrassing, crying, incoherent drunk. He wanted to get completely pissed just once under the watchful eyes of his dongsaengdul.

JUN: “Aish, well that’s longer than me. Can’t believe you remember the date.” Jun said, laughing. 2006! Jun was-- how old? He had moved to Swynlake. Must be 14 or 15? He hadn’t gotten drunk yet. The first time for him had been when his hal-moni died. He huddled alone in his room, having stolen beer from the store. He drank and drank, can after can, eyes wet with tears, until everything spun and Jun passed out. He woke up hours later only to go vomit. Eomma found him and scolded him, though quietly, tears still in her eyes. Because Jun might have lost his hal-moni, but Eomma lost her own eomma. Drinking was selfish. He got drunk outside of the house then. Not often. When he did drink though, Jun liked to black out and spend the next day in complete misery for his stupidity. The punishment fit the crime. Tonight though, for once, he drank to celebrate. He kicked back a shot.

MARLIN: “Yeah, I mean, I still lived in Daegu and my parents were watching the baby.” He said, shrugging a shoulder. Conveniently, he left out why he got plastered that day. He knocked back his shot and went ahead and poured himself another, promptly taking that one as well. Believe him, Jun. He needed it. It suddenly occurred to him as he poured himself another shot, and poured on for Jun, that neither of them were talking. “Have you told Tiffany about Tae’s win yet?”

JUN: Jun also went for another shot. The soju burned pleasantly, lingering long enough for the body to crave another. Such was the appeal of soju-- much better than vodka, which seared like gasoline. He downed it and then peered at the one remaining drop that had clung to the bottom of the glass. “Eh? Who?” he asked, still staring at that drop.

MARLIN: Who? That wasn’t what he was expecting when he brought up Jun’s girlfriend. From what Eun-jung said they were made for each other. Not that she said much but what the normal Korean parent would say. Oh, she’s going to be a doctor, she’s so intelligent, and so Korean! Jun was going to be a doctor too. That hurt him to think about, how Jun had had to give that up to run Moon Market. “Uh, Tiffany? Your girlfriend? Your mother’s talked about her before. Unless, uh, that was an old girlfriend?”

JUN: “Eh?” Jun grunted again, blinking. And then Tiffany snapped into place, firing off the correct neurons. “Oh! Yes, yes, Tiffany. My girlfriend,” Jun confirmed with several more nods as he put the glass down on the table. He had forgotten to tell Tiffany about Tae’s tournament at all, to be honest. When was the last time they had spoken on the phone? Aish, who cared? It wasn’t like they needed such things. Tiffany was quite busy and they had a very pleasant email correspondence going on… “No, I-- s’busy day.” He waved a hand. “I’ll tell her tomorrow! She’s still at her clinic right now, I’m sure. And this sort of thing isn’t, not really her thing.” He shrugged. “She’s an only child, you know how it is.”

MARLIN: “It sounds…” Marlin trailed off, wondering if he should say it. He was going to say ‘like she’s not your thing’ but decided against it. That was best kept in his head. “Boring. Being an only child.” He said, knocking back his fourth shot and pouring another. “Only children in the traditional sense aren’t a thing in fairy culture.”

JUN: That didn’t make much sense. But much of fairy culture did not make sense, the little he heard of it. It sounded-- too nice. Jun could not trust something that was so nice. Fairies themselves were nice too, very very nice, nice to a fault. Of all the Magicks, he supposed he’d like to hang out with a fairy more than anything else, but that didn’t mean he would trust them. There was always a catch to kindness. He just had never figured out what it was when it came to fairies. Or maybe they were just naive, the poor dears. “Your son is an only child,” Jun said then bluntly, like Marlin forgot.

MARLIN: He smiled sadly. “Not by choice, of course.” And waved a hand dismissively as if to etch-a-sketch away the sad thing he said. Marlin cleared his throat to explain. “Typically if a fairy is widowed, we’re expected to, if not find another partner or two, combine households with another widowed fairy and raise your fledglings as siblings. Alternatively, if your Talent is considered rare - like my mother’s - or highly essential, like mine, you are expected or enter into a Promise with another fairy of that same talent and have a child in hopes of it being that Talent. If you don’t go into a love Promise, you should have a strategic one, for the good of the Hollow.” He took his fifth shot. “Promise is like our version of marriage. You can have 1, 2, I’ve even seen a fairy have 3 Promise partners. And you can’t have children outside of your Promise. Anyway. I’m a healing Talent, basically a fairy doctor. It’s actually considered incredibly strange that I didn’t either enter into a Promise with another healing Talent and try to have a healing Talent child; or, just combine households with another widowed fairy. Selfish, even.” Marlin sighed and poured himself another shot. “Nemo and I aren’t very popular in the Hollow as you can imagine.”

JUN: It was a very good thing that Jun was about half a bottle of soju in, plus the drinks he had at dinner. If he were sober, his impulse would be to stop this conversation at once. He had no interest in fairy culture. The less he knew, the better. That was the best thing about fairies, eh? Unlike other magicks, they kept their business to themselves and in their Hollow. They did their thing-- and humans did theirs. Everyone lived in harmony, which was what fairies were all about. But he was drunk, his curiosity floating to the surface. His face screwed up at how bizarre it all sounded. “Aish, that’s a headache waiting to happen,” said Jun. “Three partners?! One is already hard enough, you’re probably better off on your own!” He sucked his teeth. “Ah, but they shouldn’t be so hard on you, being a single parent should be-- it’s like--” he searched for his words. “Being a warrior. You deserve a medal.”

MARLIN: “Fairies don’t see it that way. There’s much I love about fairy society, in fact I love everything about it except that. But I have had much more exposure to human society and culture than the fairies in either Hollow I’ve lived in.” Marlin explained. “An acceptance of single parents kind of crept in by osmosis.” He knocked back his sixth shot, then his seventh right after, and poured the eighth. “It is almost offensive to many in the Hollow that my son and I live alone. But I worried we’d speak English in the home if I combined households with another widowed fairy. Then Nam-min wouldn’t know any Korean.” After taking his eighth shot, he clicked his tongue and said. “Still no buzz. Aish.” And poured his ninth. “In my home Hollow, Promise pairs or sets could produce three children without permission from the Pixie Queen. Here, it’s two, so our homes are made to house four fairies. And it is the height of selfishness ours houses two.” JUN: Stupid. All of what Mu-yeol was saying was stupid and Jun honestly didn’t know why they were talking about it. Not because he was uncomfortable, but because tonight, wasn’t it supposed to be a celebration? His brother was a winner! Jun and Tae had not gotten into one single fight all weekend (even if sometimes Jun had wanted to slap the back of his brother’s head). Even Mu-yeol seemed rather happy, eh? He and his son were cute, and Jun knew that they’d been fighting because of that damn vampire. So why talk about things that could not be changed? “Well who cares about them,” Jun said. The soju sloshed into his glass. “Don’t pay them any mind. You should get more human friends.” Jun said and pointed the lip of the soju bottle at Mu-yeol. “Not that people aren’t just as annoying but still, none of that 개소리 (gaesori) about being selfish. We humans love being selfish. And you can afford to be selfish sometimes! Eh? Like my eomma, she usually comes to these things. But I’ve been away so long. Over a decade you know, because medical school, aish, so exhausting. Tae hated me for missing his tournaments. And I hated me too! Did he think I was doing it on purpose?! I wanted to come, I tried, I really-- but there was so much work all the time.” Jun sighed and he shot back the glass. He poured more, forgetting his manners now. Some sloshed over the side of the glass. “So I told Eomma-- my turn. I’ll take him. I’ll close the damn store for a weekend if I have to, no matter what Abeoji says, ohhh, he’s so mad at me for that-- says we never close the store, never. So I upset him. Of course I upset him. But too bad. For once, I do something for me. My little brother…” Jun was drunker than he thought. “So-- there you go. Do something for you, hyung. We work hard, eh?”

MARLIN: Jun was very drunk. He knew he was very drunk, because he accidentally called him hyung, just plain hyung, and not hyung-nim. Adding -nim still put distance between them. Hyung meant they were actually friends. “Yeah, fuck-- fuck it.” Marlin said, taking his ninth shot, then drinking the about half-shot worth that was in that bottle straight from it and opening another. Knocking back his tenth shot, he smiled and said. “Ten and a half, I should finally start feeling something. You can imagine how expensive this would be if we drank in public.” Bottles of liquor in the hotel was the way to go.

JUN: Jun laughed, shaking his head. “You better not be lyin’ about this fairy tolerance, ‘m not cleaning up after you.” Jun said, leaning forward a little and pointing at him with a finger. Though ah, that was a lie. Even drunk, Jun would drag Mu-yeol to the bathroom if he needed to. He’d wipe his chin and force water down his throat and tuck him into bed like a child, if he had to, because Jun did not know how to be anything else. He wanted to be, though. For one night. Jun reached for another soju bottle. “You’re an appa, eh?” He cracked open the top. “What’s the secret? Mm? To be a good son? Because I’m really trying.” Jun touched his own chest.

MARLIN: Mu-yeol snorted and shook his head. “Mate,” the single word in English sounded off in the middle of comfortable Korean. “You’ll wish I was bullshitting.” At what Jun said next though, his heart lurched painfully in his chest. He never understood why human fathers couldn’t just tell their sons they were proud of them. It was four words and they prevented a lot of frustration and heartache. A part of him understood Mr. Moon. They were both immigrants and just wanted to push their children to be able to survive without them one day in this country that would always be foreign to them, that would never quite be their home. But as fairies, Marlin and Nemo easily could express their feelings toward each other. Nemo hugged him when he wanted to show his affection and occasionally hopped up on his toes to kiss his cheek goodbye as he scurried out the door. Marlin would curl up next to Nemo when he sensed he needed appa snuggles and played with his hair like he’d done since he was a toddler. To fairies it was ‘a little childish’ at worst, and ‘just normal’ in most cases. “Jun...I’m not in your father’s head, but. You are a very good son. You gave up your life to run the store, and you’re putting yourself through a relationship you aren’t invested in just to please your Korean parents that want a Korean daughter-in-law. You are the dictionary definition of a filial Korean son.” Marlin said. “And your father is the stereotypical Korean immigrant father who loves you but can’t seem to say it.” Had Yeong-seok said with his own words to him that he loved Jun? No, no but he didn’t have to. As a father himself, he could recognize the older man’s love where his children wouldn’t. “Korean immigrant human father.” He clarified. “We-” meaning fairies “-tend to be very open about our feelings. It just isn’t in human masculine culture. And that isn’t fair to you, I know. But you are a good son. You love your parents, and your sisters, and your brother, and you’ve sacrificed your own aspirations for them. That is the most selfless--” He cut himself off and downed his eleventh shot. “I think your father can’t say it because he hates that you had to do it. He wanted you to be a doctor so badly. He never stopped talking about how well you were doing in medical school, but then he got sick, and kept getting sicker, and here you are.” JUN: He didn’t believe Mu-yeol about this either. He could think in the most logical part of his brain that yes, Appa loved him, and yes, Appa was proud. A few years ago, before his cancer, he’d come close to saying similar things to Jun when Jun came home on one of his brief weekends he could spare, and ended up assisting his abeoji with some task. Usually working in the garden. His abeoji loved the family garden more than anything else and would have lived his happiest life if he could go out day after day and simply tend to the rows of greens and vegetables. When Jun worked in the garden with him, there was peace between father and son...a beautiful, clean silence, only broken occasionally by Yeong-seok when he decided he had something to share. Jun liked the garden too. He liked working with his hands, the cool, wet dirt against his work jeans. It was the opposite of sterile clinic rooms. The smell of pulled roots and fertilizer nothing like disinfectant. He always thought of his abeoji when he gardened now. His appa spent many mornings out, sitting in his garden, but no longer had the strength or energy to even weed. And so now there were no more opportunities for his abeoji to say anything kind. Instead, there was a neverending list of everything that Jun did wrong. Abeoji mad at him for coming home too early, Abeoji mad at him for partnering with a different, cheaper distributor, Abeoji angry about hiring Eric (he had called Jun lazy-- could Jun disagree with him?) Jun knew that the man he’d never truly known, as hard as he tried to, would die disappointed in him. He drank his soju. He shook his head. “Abeoji and I…it’s different. I don’t think I was ever his son.” He squinted, looking past Mu-yeol’s shoulder. “How can you feel those things eh, for a boy you don’t know? He was a stranger to me too. The first year I lived in Swynlake with him, aish, I kept wanting to call him Ahjussi. Abeoji kept catching on my tongue, like saying this was disrespectful to the man who took my eomma and me in.” Jun chuckled, though this wasn’t funny. “As if my parents weren’t married!” “I have to work much harder for him to call me his son, I think. He got to see Tae-yah and my sisters grow up, so it’s easier to love them. I’m not complaining,” Jun added quickly. He blinked, and his eyes were wet. Because he was tired, that’s all, he wasn’t sad. “He would have liked to know me as a boy. He sacrificed that for me and Eomma, so ‘m not mad. It’s simply how it is. Maybe if I had a son of my own, it’d be a second chance.” He blinked again, his chest burning and tight, and his voice wobbled as he said, “It’s too late though, isn’t it? He’ll never know my son.”

MARLIN: “Jun.” Marlin said, eschewing all the rules of human masculinity and reaching to grab one of Jun’s hands in his. “You were always his son. He wouldn’t have left to lay a foundation for you and Eun-- your eomma if you weren’t his son. I can promise you, as a father myself, that it tore him apart inside to not get to raise you himself. And fathers, we...kind of suck at dealing with our own pain. Especially when its related to our children.” He laughed bitterly to himself, thinking about how he’s absolutely fucked Nam-min up for life. “He’s probably hard on you because he just wants to know you’ll turn out all right despite him not having been there for you. And I know it isn’t fair to you, and I know from where you’re standing you don’t feel his love for you, but Jun. Yeong-seok loves you.” And it was unfair that Jun would never get the chance to actually know that. Because Jun was right. It was much too late. For months now Mu-yeol had physically felt Death on the patriarch of the Moon family. It clung to him like dried wood glue that stuck to your skin no matter how much you tried to rub it off. The treatments only ever made the intensity of the weight of Death fluctuate but never come close to leaving him. “Oh, Junnie.” Marlin cooed, going from his bed to Jun’s and impulsively cradling him in his arms. “Jun, I know. I know it's not fair.”

JUN: The room was swimming. Jun blinked slowly, his eyes coming to focus on Mu-yeol’s hand on his, though he did not really feel it. He was just aware of its warmth, but it could have been anything. His eyes closed briefly, only half of his hyung-nim’s words reaching him through this own stupid alcohol blanket. How could he explain? There was so much distance in Jun’s life between himself and the people that he cared about, his abeoji most of all. He’d grown up talking to Abeoji on the phone and that’s how it had felt now, even when they were in the same room. They did not really look at each other; they could not exactly see. There was a flaw in their timing as was always the case with phone conversation, Jun and Yeong-seok trying to talk at the same time, stopping, and then falling into a hesitated silence. Jun might have started rambling about phone conversations and maybe if Facetime had been invented when he was a small boy then it’d be all different, oh the joys of modern technology-- but then Mu-yeol’s weight fell on the other side of him. And he was being held. What the hell? Jun wanted to pull away, but instead he leaned into Mu-yeol’s grip, his face twisted and his eyes closing even tighter than they had before. “This is stupid,” he croaked but still didn’t pull away. And he wanted to say other things-- That cancer was stupid. That it was hilarious and cruel that he could be a doctor, in a relationship with an oncologist, and still be unable to help his abeoji. And despite how sad he was, there was a part of him that was relieved. Relieved to be home. Relieved to be back in the Moon Market, where he spent his adolescence. And it was this part of him that he hated most of all, that he was certain his parents saw and were ashamed. Instead, he remained in Mu-yeol’s arms and he said in his voice still thick with tears, “Hyung...hyung, can I call you hyung?” He already was, of course, but he was much too drunk to register.

MARLIN: Mu-yeol shook his head and pat Jun’s back. “No it’s not. Having feelings and being hurt isn’t ridiculous. It isn’t fair to you to always be the one to keep it together for your family.” He could stand to take a page from Jun’s book, however. “Yeah, that’s okay.” He said, biting back an awkward chuckle at Jun remembering his politeness even now. He kind of wished he were Olaf because then at least hugging Jun would have provided some amount of genuine comfort. JUN: Was he crying? Jun could not tell. How embarrassing if he was, and he grimaced at himself and pulled away from Mu-yeol’s arms, though they still sat side by side, close enough for their shoulders to brush. He hoped that he was drunk enough to forget this. It was fine, as long as he forgot the whole thing, even if Mu-yeol didn’t. He tried not to think about how much it meant to him, to have a hyung of his own. He should thank Mu-yeol for his pity, ha. “Bah, enough of me. I’m sick of me. Talk about yourself.” Jun instructed and he drank from his soju bottle, the alcohol burning quite pleasantly.

MARLIN: Mu-yeol chuckled low in his throat and grabbed another bottle of soju and drank straight from it. Talk about himself? He was never good at that. “Well, what should I say, huh?” He laughed. “What could distract you for a night?”

JUN: “Anything,” said Jun at once. He groaned a little, lifted a hand to his forehead to rub with two fingers. This was why he didn’t cry, eh? Crying was painful, he hated it so much. “Tell me-- tell me about Daegu, eh? I never visited. I never went anywhere though, eh, just stayed in Boseong and South Jeolla,” rambled Jun. “We went to a few...surrounding towns and things, to put my eomma’s pottery in cafes. She is a talented potter, you know.” Mu-yeol did; he’d known Eun-jung for years after all. Even now, Eun-jung had some of her ceramics displayed in Hatter’s, [name redacted], and there was a shelf in the store. She did not sell many things, but what she did sell, she was proud of.

MARLIN: “She’s very talented. Your mother always seemed like an artist, even before I knew.” Mu-yeol said. “Have you ever been to Seoul? I lived there for a while too. Daegu is more beautiful, and feels more like home, but Seoul was...until the end, Seoul was good to me.” “Daegu is surrounded by mountains, it sometimes feels like you’re straight out of a fairytale. Like the modern Korean city was plucked out of the works and placed in a storybook setting. I miss Seoul. I miss Daegu more, even if Seoul was where I lived with Nam-min’s mother. Daegu is where I fell in love with her.” He sighed and smiled sadly before he drank straight from a bottle of soju. That was all so, so long ago now. He hoped Tiffany made Jun as happy as So-yeon made him. He knew she didn’t. “I wonder if I would recognize the city if I went back. Or the Hollow that I grew up in.”

JUN: Jun hadn’t been to Seoul. When he met other Koreans, whether first or second or third generation, this was a question that came up. Not so much second-generation, but still. He always felt fake when he admitted that he’d never been to his country’s capital...that there was much of his home he never saw. Most of the Korean families he met anyway came from the city areas up north. When he mentioned Boseong, they always nodded before saying anything else. Jun could hear their thoughts: ah, from the country. Ah, he’s not educated. Such judgments always pushed Jun harder to work on his doctor’s license. That was why Eomma and Abeoji always pushed him, wasn’t it? Their family came from humble means, and South Korea was stratified by class like most of the stupid world. Jun had to prove that he was more than just a boy from the tea fields. For a while, the ruse had worked, but the world had now beat Jun back into place. He chuckled sadly. A fairy had even been to Seoul. A fairy. And he hadn’t. “I hope the fields are how I remember them,” Jun commented instead of revealing the depth of his own inadequacy. “So green. And it smelled amazing. I still brew green tea when I miss home, just to smell it.” He sighed and looked at Mu-yeol. “Daegu sounds beautiful.” A beat. “I’m sorry...you lost so much.”

MARLIN: “I’ve never been to Boseong, but I’ve spent time in other parts of the countryside. Country people are the kindest people. Don’t let people who can only speak in a Seoul dialect talk down on your family for being from the country. Or worse - people who can only speak English.” He smiled almost devilishly and slipped purposely into his own native dialect, curious if Jun could follow Daegu dialect Korean. He’d lived in Korea for ten years, his parents spoke in a regional dialect when they weren’t careful, so Mu-yeol suspected Jun may be able to. “You know there were probably Hollows, at least one, around Boseong. Hollows usually thrive in the countryside, but my home Hollow in Daegu is as ancient as the Korean Peninsula. The city was born and our Hollow never moved. Ironically, the war breathed a new life into it. Refugees from the North, including my father, flocked from firebombed Hollows, fleeing Soviet, North Korean, and Chinese soldiers killing any fairy they saw. Dictatorships and their soldiers don’t take kindly to magicks of any sort.” He sipped from his bottle of soju and sighed wistfully. “It was beautiful. And so was-” he almost said ‘she’, but god, that would make this so sad, wouldn’t it? This wasn’t about him. This weekend was about Tae and Jun. Jun was one whose father was dying. Mu-yeol’s wife had been dead for over a decade. He didn’t get to whine. Then Jun gave him the opportunity and he wondered if he was cleverly using his grief to avoid his own. Well, he wasn’t selfish. He’d not burst into tears and make this a woe is Mu-yeol, the maladjusted widower, the shame of Daegu moment, but he’d give Jun permission to eventually access the full tragic backstory. That’s what friends do, after all. And Jun had called him hyung. “Humans measure time in B.C.E. and C.E. My metric is before May 15th, 2006, and after. I should stop whining that I didn’t have So-yeon for longer and just be grateful I got to have her for the ten years I did. Some people get even less time.” Mu-yeol sipped more soju, the pleasant burn made talking about this easier. “But I’m not that big of a person. My anger’s too big.” He smiled sadly at Jun. “I hope someday you are as happy as I was, before the fifteenth of May. And I hope you get to stay that way for a long time.”

#para #mu jun #and if this is one of my favorite threads???#sniff

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ask-the-cordium-crew · 4 years

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Team Cordium Christmas (A WKTC holiday story)

It was Christmas Eve in the kingdoms of remnant and out in the forest outside the kingdom of mantle and atlas there was a mansion a big one covered in decorations top to bottom and inside was one of the biggest parties of the night

William was breathing fire from drinking too much fire dust whiskey and singing silent night really loudly oh and also swinging from the chandelier Damien and was doing a keg stand with benjamin holding him up.

Mark was singing a Christmas song while walking down the stairs he was wearing Christmas themed booty shorts and a Santa hat saying the sexiest Santa alive on it and Christmas stockings made for a woman was he drunk? No, he couldn’t drink. He just did it because it’s his house. He can do what he wants.

Celine was already passed out drunk she could not hold her liquor at ALL one drink pretty much makes her pass out she was currently sleeping on the roof for some reason.

And what was our favourite detective doing? He was at the poker table with Torchwick. Why was roman here? Because Abe invited him as his plus one, it was Christmas, so they were both taking a break from crime and crime-fighting respectfully.

Abe took a drink from his rum and leaned back, sighing “nice to have at least one day off, especially at the holidays bleh I am gonna hate work tomorrow.”

Roman put down his cards and looked at Abe, confused, “why whatever do you mean, Abey?”

Abe groaned as he looked at roman “the day after Christmas is always the worst sure I get Christmas off, but once it’s over there are at least 6 murders I have to go solve sure I love my job, but it’s really annoying to deal with murder just promise me you’ll wait till next year to go back to crime.”

Roman sighed and patted abe on the back before shuffling the deck which Abe watched to make sure he wasn’t cheating

“fine, I promise I'll wait till January to go back to a crime your lucky we get along so much, and you're a freelance detective I hate anyone from atlas and local law enforcement.”

Abe chuckled before smacking Roman across the back and holding his glass “I'll cheer to that those guys are shmucks who can’t do a job right well besides will over there I can respect him.”

Roman and him laughed before tapping their glasses together “oh Abey you are correct William is personally the only person from atlas I've really met but I do enjoy his crazy behaver its odd how someone with his mental state is in charge though”

Abe rubbed his chin gently thinking about that “hmm I guess your right it is odd how he’s in control, but hey he gets the job done and well he wasn’t always like this the safari hunt incident as it’s known as really fucked him up I mean you’d probably lose part of yourself if you saw what he saw.”

Roman groaned as he chugged his glass and then poured himself and abe a new one “oh yes, I heard about that... now I can’t say I respect the faunus much, but you are correct seeing a child in that state even if it was a faunus would fuck me right up!”

“Anyway, let's get back to our little game shall we Abey?~” he gave abe his cards and then looked at his own smirking and pushing his chips forward at least halfway

abe looked at his hand and shrugged “I call I guess.”

Meanwhile, over at the kegstand, Damien jumped off, flying into the air and landed right on his feet, stumbling a bit. “Let's GET ANOTHER ONE! Let's drink up and be merry. It’s Christmas after all as mark always says life is for the living!”

Benjamine smiled and then went into the kitchen and brought out a new barrel “are you sure you can handle another barrel of this all on your own master Damien?”

Damien stumbled around a bit before shaking his head and smirking “good to let the beast out every once and awhile ey old friend? Trust me when we graduated beacon we drank more than this oh that night was crazy Mark and my sister Celine ended up playing 7 minutes in heaven a little longer than 7 minutes if you catch my drift oh and me? I ended up on top of the communications tower. I don’t even know HOW!”

Damien rubbed his chin and burped, “speaking of my sister, where is she? did she leave?”

Benjamin shook his head as he opened up the kegstand “no-no miss Celine is on the roof passed out and drunk.”

Damien groaned gently before sighing and rubbing his head, “and people say Williams crazy heh oh it’s fine she’ll be okay. I'll get her in the morning be sure to remind me benjamin unless she comes down herself.”

Benjamin nodded “of course master Damien now shall we get you up here?”

Damien did a handstand and jumped onto the barrel and Benjamin held onto his sides and put the tube into his mouth and Damien went back to chugging another kegstand.

William grabbed another bottle of red dust whiskey he then looked at Damien “CHUG CHUG CHUG DO IT LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT DAMES! YEAHHHHH! LIFE NEEDS A BIT OF MADNESS AND WHATS MADDER THEN DOING 3 KEGSTANDS IN ONE NIGHT! OH WAIT I HAVE AN IDEA!” he chuckled

William then ran off outside and screamed out loudly, “OH GABRIEL! COME HERE YOU BIG CRAZY BEAR!”

A loud roar could be heard as an Ursa came charging towards William. It then picked him up and growled before William pointed forward, “Let's GO WRECK SOME SHIT!”

William then ripped off all his clothes and him and Gabriel the Ursa ran off into the night heading towards mantle Abe then looked up looking out the window and then turned to roman

“should uh... we go try and stop him?” he was holding back a bit of laughter

Roman waved his hand. “EH let the crazy old bastard have fun, not like he hasn’t done something like this before.”

Abe chuckled, “touche.”

Mark meanwhile was board, and since no one at the party was paying attention to him he grabbed a t-shirt cannon, but instead of t-shirts it was filled with dildos from his mountain of dildos in his bedroom

he then started firing it all over the place as the dildos stuck to the roof and walls and windows Abe and Roman ducked

Roman looked confused and surprised “I thought he couldn’t get drunk?” Abe groaned, “dammit,, I didn’t lock up my bags. He got into my drug stache.”

Roman laughed out really loudly even without him being drunk he found this funny

“HAHA! my god Abe, your friends, are all amazing glad I decided to come by the way it was me I got into your stuff I spiked the punch” he smirked Abe rubbed his face “I hate you sometimes Torchwick” Roman stuck out his tongue “oh I know you love me.”

Mark then poured a gallon of peppermint lube all over himself and ran outside screaming loudly “I AM KING OF THE DILDO MOUNTIAN FEAR ME!” he fired rapidly all over the place

not all their Christmases were like this, but all of them were almost always crazy; these were happier times.

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siren-theories · 5 years

Text

The Pownall Massacre

TL, DR: Too complext to summarise. Sorry, you have to read through this. If you want to, you can skip to Part IV to read what I think really happened.

There is but one certainty with historical events - that they can and most likely will be interpreted differently depending on the eye of the beholder. Our own upbringing, socialization, education, sexuality, gender etc. can all cause us to be biased when interpreting historical events. There are always different "truths" depending on who you ask.

As a simple example most readers would be familiar with lets take a look at a "great" US President, George Washington. If you would have asked a Native American of the time about George Washington he would have called him a destroyer of native villages who led massacres. If you would have asked a loyalist, he would have considered Washington a traitor to the crown. If you would have asked a member of Washington’s army in the Revolutionary War, he would have hailed Washington as a great hero. And if you would have asked his slaves....

This is no less true for the period of "Manifest Destiny" and westward expansion of the United States during the 19th century. What looks like massive land robbery, ethnic cleansing and even genocide to the outside (modern) observer might also be romanticized as the era of brave settlers and brave cowboys, the era of daring people prevailing against adversity to secure a better life for themselves. Modern Media has (regrettably) largely chosen the later path.

Please keep the above in mind when considering everything that follows in this posts. Also, please note that this is a theory built on evidence from the show - but this theory has not been explicitly confirmed by any of the show writers.

Part I: The historical context of the Pownall Massacre.

Understanding the historical context is the most important thing when it comes to interpreting past events.

All sources agree that the massacre happened 150 years before the time the show starts, so somewhere in the vicinity of 1868. By this time Washington State had already been settled by native Americans for close to 14.000 years (thus giving us the earliest possible form of divergence between humans and sirens).

Native Americans hunting ducks, taken from Wikimedia Commons

Native American villages of the time seem to have been mostly concentrated on the coasts and near rivers, being focused on salmon fishing, hunting and gathering berries/roots etc. You can see how Washington is a perfect setting for the Siren story - even before the arrival of the white settlers. The most prominent of those tribes seemed to have formed what is called the Salish language community.

The salish language family (from here).

The earliest contact between the natives and Europeans happened during the spanish mapping expeditions of the Northern American coast. One such ship, the Santiago, was captained by Bruno de Hecata. You can read a bit about his expedition here.

Unfortunately this ship also carried a deadly cargo - smallpox. This disease resulted in a harrowing smallpox epidemic which killed at least 30%, if not 50% of the native population (approximately 11.000 - 20.000 people). Even though the introduction of the disease was unintentional (indeed a third of the Europeans themselves died from it) these events proved fatal to the strength of the local populations. This blow allowed northern tribes like the Haida to muscle in on the territory of the local tribes. .

[Sidenote: For those of you who would want to read more about this I suggest Robert Boyd: The coming of the spirit of pestilence. Introduced infectious diseases and population decline among Northwest Coast Indians, 1774–1874 (Seattle 1999). Be warned, it makes for grim reading.]

Eventually, British fur traders and settlers arrived on the scene. In 1790 Spain and Britain reached an agreement that gave the British free reign over the Northwest coast. In 1805 the Lewis and Clark expedition reached Washington and the USA entered the struggle for dominance over the region. Britain however gained dominance due to the war of 1812 and the Hudson Bay Company eventually became the most important fur trader of the region. These early years were characterized by a high rate of intermarriage between fur traders and local women, as well as the introduction of European technology and European goods, most importantly firearms.

However, in the 1840s large numbers of American settlers trekked westwards and started settling Washington State. Soon outnumbering the British fur traders and local natives (who seemed to have fallen into some form of uneasy coexistence), this formed the basis for what was later called the Oregon dispute between Britain and the United States.

In 1846 the Oregon Treaty ceded Washington State to the USA and settlement began, with all the negative effects this had on the local population - disease, land robbery, ethnic cleansing and genocide. In 1862 another devastating smallpox epidemic broke out, again killing roughly one-third to half of the remaining indigenous population.

If the massacre happened in 1868 then it would have happened during a time which was filled with strife. The boundary dispute between England and the USA had not been fully resolved yet (it would only be resolved through the mediation of the German Empire in 1872). The community of Bristol Cove would have been at best a few decades old (and probably was significantly younger, maybe only having been formed in the 1850s). There might have been bad blood between ex-British and American members of the community. The native population would have suffered from the devastating smallpox epidemic only a few years earlier and I highly doubt the natives had surrendered the prime fishing grounds willingly.

The settlers and fishers of Bristol Cove themselves would have been hard men who had suffered through the deprivations of the long trek westwards. The fact that most of them would have been adventurous young white men without many suitable marriage prospects is also problematic as historically a surplus of young males has nearly always led to conflict. Judging from the town's football team being called the whalers and the harpoons being found in Helen's shop it seems that Bristol Cove primarily was a fishing and whaling town - two profession that require men that are comfortable with killing what they perceive as animals.

In short it does not require much imagination to view the Bristol Cove of 1862-1870 as a powder keg waiting to explode. All it needed was the right man to lit the fuze.

(Enter Charles H. Pownall, aka literally Hitler)

Part II: The sources covering the massacre

Let's look at the sources covering the massacre and try to decipher what they are telling us about the massacre and the reasons for it.

a) The official human version

The official version of what happened during the massacre is that essentially no massacre happened at all and the entire story is presented as a fairytale for small children. It is used as the centerpiece of the annual mermaid festival, being used to draw in tourists and bored college students looking for an adventure.

(Tfw your family history gets appropriated by college girls looking for an excuse to paaartaaaay.)

The Timestamp for the official human version is 4:35 - 5:10 of Episode 101 "The mermaid discovery".

(how lovely, a play about genocide. With Children in it. What could go wrong?)

NARRATOR: "It was more than a 150 years ago when a local fishing captain, Charles H. Pownall, fell in love with a mermaid in these very waters, enchanted by her beautiful siren song." POWNALL: "I love you fishermen" SIREN: "I love you mermaid" NARRATOR: "But one day, he went to the bay, and his mermaid was gone, back to her home in the sea, never to return." NARRATOR: "And that is how thanks to Charles H. Pownall, Bristol Cove became the Mermaid Capital of the World"

(Is it my mermaid that I see there on the horizon? No, just a giant whitewash,)

The depiction of an episode of violence against other populations as a fairytale is not a new idea. For example, take the story of Pocahontas. Popular knowledge focuses on the fairytale aspect of this historical story (native Powhatan "princess" Pocahontas rescues brave white explorer John Smith) but nearly all popular retellings omit the continuation of that story - how the brave explorer John Smith continued to raid the food stores of the Powhatans, how the white colonists massacred the Powhatans, took their lands, assassinated their leaders and drove them into pitiful reservations. (Put THAT in a movie, Disney).

As such, this story fits the archetype to a T. And yet there are a few facts in the official version that merit a mention:

The official human version claims that Pownall was enchanted by the beautiful siren song (which would mean that the siren would have taken the initiative to make contact with Pownall)

The mermaid in question disappeared without a trace, leaving Charles to look for her with no success

b) Helen's books

Another take is being presented in one of Helen's books aptly titled "An Illustrated History of the Mermaid", which features the mermaids of Bristol Cove in a chapter. Sadly the chapter is truncated and we only see the first page of it in detail - while other pages also show text, freeze-framing and enlarging them sadly showed them to be taken from a book on schooners and a book about the Napoleonic wars - a common trick by TV shows to save valuable time writing those props.

The page dealing with the massacre is shown in Episode 102: “The Lure” as follows:

(Pls Maddie move your hand a bit lower? Pretty pls?)

I have transcribed the visible text:

The Mermaids of Bristol Cove Being a true account of the bitter and broken heart of a Fisherman and the retribution that was exacted by Men of the Land upon the Maidens of the Sea

The proud men of Bristol Cove were renowned up and down the western coastline of the Americas for their craft and Bravery upon the waters of the Pacific Ocean. The men abord Captain Pownall's ship were especially known for their prowess upon the waves and their seemingly supernatural ability to find and capture more fish than any other craft. This ability was attributed to more than mere craft. It was whispered, in certain coastal taverns, that Captain Pownall himself was responsible for his own share of the bountiful harvest. It was rumored that the captain was [illegible text] a mermaid and that it was [illegible]and the deep that had resulted [illegible] his curious [illegible] five years[illegible]

This text is really short on details for its length. What we get out of it is a timeframe (five years) and a lot of fluff about the skilled and brave men of Bristol Cove - and that the relationship was also based on mutual fishing cooperation. However, the headline already tells us what interpretation the story will use here - that Pownall and the mermaid fell in love, she then broke his heart and the "brave and skilled" fishermen exacted retribution by massacring them. I was expecting some brazen apologia but not one this brazen. Yeah, some eeeevil woman(tm) hurt you by leaving you, go murder her relatives in revenge. That makes you "brave and skilled".

Excuse me for a second while I find the nearest container to throw up in.

[Sidenote: Painting genocide as a tragedy while also arguing the victims deserved getting massacred is par the course for colonial apologia of the 19th century. Even in the 20th century Turkey for example justified its genocide of the Armenians by arguing that it was "just" a relocation that got out of hand due to Armenian banditry. This text fits well into all the other 19th century texts that allegedly deplored violence against indigenous people while similarly arguing that this could all have been avoided if the darn natives had not been so unaccommodating. Feel free to imagine a lot of fake pearl clutching as a side dish to all that juicy victim blaming.

I commend the writers of Siren for actually writing such a text for it shows their attention to detail but this was infuriating to read.]

c) The Pownall family history

Lets hear it from the direct descendants of Charles "stil literally Hitler" Pownall. Ben confronts his father after meeting a mermaid himself and nearly becoming the evening snack of said mermaid (no, snack is not used euphemistically here.) The conversation takes place in Episode 102: "The Lure" from 19:00 - 20:40.

(...So...uh...about great-great-great-great-grandpa...)

I have transcribed the relevant parts:

BEN: "I wanted to ask you something. I remembered that you and Grandpa used to talk about Charles Pownall, about what really happened back then." TED: "You really came here to ask me that?" BEN: "Yeah.” TED: "Why the sudden interest in the family history?" BEN: "I ran into Helen Hawkins.” TED: "Oh, c'mon." BEN: "Dad? Maybe I'd show up to more family events like the statue unveiling if you told me the real story about our family." TED: "All right. Look, Charles might not have been exactly who we make him out to be. I can't say for sure, but there might have been some mental illness, maybe even schizophrenia. Long months at sea, a constant stream of booze and, uh, well, he was seeing things. [chuckles] Mermaids? You know this. You did the play in school. That's how the town got its folklore. Now, as for Helen and her stories, well, we all know she's got a vivid imagination." BEN: "That's it?" TED: That's it."

Additional info about the Pownall Mermaid is delivered to us in the form of a conversation between Ben and his father in Episode 110: “Aftermath”. It starts from 21:30 and ends at 23:00.

(Don't mind me getting defensive here about not giving you all the information you asked for earlier)

TED: "Look, Charles had an affair with a woman in town, okay - she worked at a local bar...a brothel." BEN: "Wait, so she was a prostitute?" TED: "You can imagine...an extramarital affair, a child born out of wedlock with a woman in that profession - these aren't things people talked about back then. Every family has its secrets, Ben." BEN: "This isn't some kind of ancient history, dad. I have a relative living in town that I've known my whole life." TED: "You know our family Ben. This kind of history, nothing they'd want out there. Why dwell on the ugliness? Okay, Charles was a troubled guy. We talked about that. From what I understand, he had a lot of demons."

From these two conversations we get not only a lasting impression that Ted is knowing more than he lets on but also a lot of relevant information:

Charles Pownall suffered from alleged mental illness, maybe even schizophrenia - or something that made it appear as if he did.

Charles liked his booze, maybe too much

The mermaid was according to Charles family a woman of ill repute

Charles was already married when he met the mermaid and when the baby was born

The Pownall family has been paying Helen's family off to keep quiet.

d) The Siren sources

In Episode 209 “Street fight”, Ryn tells Ben the Siren side of the story.

(”Story? No, not story. Real”)

The conversation starts at 11:50 and ends at about 13 minutes.

RYN: "There was one of us who spent time with a human long time ago. She lived with him on land. Together they had little one." Ben: "A child?" RYN: "Yes. But the child was not normal, not look normal. He took it away from her into the woods. He killed their child. So she went back home in the water. But this made him angry. His head-bad. He brought many men, and they killed us. So many of us that...the water was red with our blood. Ben: "Helen told me that story. Not about a child though." RYN: "Story? No, not story. Real."

It is interesting that as much as the human sources place the blame on the Sirens, the Siren side of the story places the blame just as squarely on the humans. What we can take away from this version is:

The mermaid lived with Charles on land and they had a child together.

The baby was deformed and thus Charles took it into the woods and killed it.

The mermaid left Charles whose head then went “bad”.

Charles took his men and slaughtered them in the water.

e) The Hybrid sources

Perhaps the most important tidbits of information come from Bristol Cove's resident mermaid expert, Helen Hawkins, in Episode 110 "Aftermath". The conversation starts at 16:12 and ends at around 18:50.

(Lemme just drop some knowledge on you children...)

HELEN: "She was the first. She was the daughter of Charles Pownall and his mermaid." BEN: "The baby is buried here? Ryn told me that Charles killed his child." HELEN: "Oh no. [to Ryn] That may be what your colony believes, but that's not what happened. The baby was born in transition and appeared deformed, a soul caught between two worlds. Charles knew that the doctors of Bristol Cove would see her as an abomination and refuse to treat her. The Baby was gonna suffer and die. So he took her into the woods." MADDIE: "To put her out of her misery?" HELEN: "No. He brought her to bigger minds than the doctors of Bristol Cove. To people who weren't afraid of shape-shifters." MADDIE: "The Haida" HELEN: "Yes. BEN: "She lived?" HELEN: "The Haida helped her to complete her transition and she lived for a very long time. I am her last living descendant." BEN: "You*re one of them?" HELEN: "That's right. One-eigth to be exact." MADDIE: "Ryn, did you know this?" RYN: "Yes. I sense she is one of us. But I did not know the child lived."

Helen claims that:

Charles took his daughter to the Haida to find help for her

The Haida were able to help the hybrid daughter

The daughter lived for a long time in Bristol Cove among humans, eventually dieing there

Part III: Literally Hitler? The trouble with Charles H. Pownall

(Look at him. He is just standing there. Menacingly.)

Much of how we view the massacre is dependant upon how we assess the character of Charles H. Pownall himself. It is easy to think of him as a typical machismo of his day, a ruthless conqueror who was blinded by his own sense of superiority, who could not handle rejection and committed genocide in revenge. There might be some truth to that interpretation - after all, the people who settled Washington were not exactly enlightened liberals.

And yet we know some facts which are unquestionably true (because otherwise Helen would not exist) that paint a different picture of Charles H. Pownall. When faced with the problem of his daughter's life being in danger, Charles acts rationally and decisively. He seeks out help from the only people who know how to deal with hybrids, the Haida. Doing so was not a small task considering the troubled times the Haida were facing due to the arrival of the white men and such an endeauvor might have easily ended with Charles being killed. But he persevered, the Haida managed to save his daughter's life and when returning to Bristol Cove Charles he took great care to safeguard his daughter's future.

He organized regular funds to be paid to her and her eventual descendants and concocts a story to tell his family as to where this mysterious daughter suddenly appeared from and why they needed to pay her to keep her quiet (her being the alleged daughter of a prositute he had relations with). Admitting to a child born out of wedlock in those days had the potential to ruin a man's career and honour and thus his place in society so this was not a trivial thing to do.

Those two brave actions mentioned above are hardly those we would expect from a bloodthirsty genocider only concerned with himself.

Yet how do we reconcile this image of a at least somewhat caring father with the image of a madman slaughtering Sirens on the water? There might have been a logical reson for Charles turning into a monster.

Both the Siren version of events and the Pownall family history mention that Charles suffered from mental problems which Ted characterizes as schizophrenic behaviour, seeing things and acting besides himself. What do we know of in the show that causes visions and causes people to act as if they are suffering from mental illnesses? In fact these are the exact symptoms people suffering from the Siren Song (Ben) or people suffering from withdrawal symptons (Chris) exhibit. Without having access to the song anymore and the only recourse being self-medication with alcohol (psychology was not exactly a practiced medicine back then, nor did MRIs exist), is it any wonder that his mental state deteriorated? It might be that the Charles H. Pownall that perpetrated the massacre bore little resemblence to the Charles H. Pownall that his mermaid fell in love with.

This might be a way too charitable interpretation of events. After all, not everybody suffering from an addiction and brain damage starts to commit genocide. However, at the very least Charles should be considered more than the black hat as which he appears in the Siren version of events (the sirens perception of him is also colored by him allegedly murdering his daughter which which never happened). Him being more of a grey character would also be in line with all the antagonists we see depicted in the show so far. Take for example Nicole, the main antagonist of Season 2 - while she lies and manipulates everything around her in order to get Ryn to cooperate with the military she is not entirely devoid of compassion. I think that therefore the interpretation of Charles H. Pownall as a more grey character fits better with this show.

This of course does not excuse his genocidal actions in any way. But it might serve as an explanation for them.

(Maybe not quite Hitler after all)

[Sidenote: I still hate the submissive pose the Pownall family chose for the statue of the mermaid, even if it fits the story the humans are trying to tell.]

Part IV: An attempt at reconstructing the events leading up to and including the massacre

As mentioned in the intro to this post, every group involved in an important and traumatic event has their own versions of the truth. This does not mean that each group necessarily lied or had a hidden agenda/hidden truth. Each version of the story (except for the two human apologia pieces already mentioned) might have been honest conclusions based on incomplete information.

So what are the facts of the story which we can reconstruct while trying to reconcile all the different pieces of information and using all information that we know not to be demonstrably false?

In the years between 1863 to 1868 Charles H. Pownall met a Siren. It might be that this Siren was actively looking for somebody to live with or to cooperate on fishing with (possibly due to the indigenous populations she used to fish with being decimated by the devastating smallpox epidemic of 1862).This cooperation led to Charles H. Pownall becoming the most renowned and wealthiest fishermen of Bristol Cove and might have continued for five years in total.

[Sidenote: The reasons for those cooperation might have been similar to those that causes other ocean predators to cooperate with humans in reality. See for example the Australian “Law of the tongue” or the Brazilian dolphin-human cooperation.]

Some time during this cooperation the mermaid and Pownall fell in love. Maybe she sang to him from the start, maybe she only sang to him after she realised she loved him. (Note that no version at all mentions that Pownall caught her so the approach was most likely consensual. Especially considering how forward Sirens can be I find the idea of the Siren initiating contact - and maybe even intiating the sexual part of the relationship - believable).

[Sidenote: In previous human-siren interactions - as the ones I postulated for the Haida in my earlier piece - this relationship would not have been a problem. The Haida and Sirens knew how to interact with each other as well as the dangers that could happen from exposure to the Song - as did the Sirens. The mermaid most likely thought the settlers would have knowledge of the problems as well. It might have been an innocent mistake to assume that. But the culture of the settlers would have been anathema to such a relationship. Having a female co-captaining a ship in the 19th century would have caused great offence, especially if she was sleeping with the married(!) captain to boot. As such, society would have almost certainly put trememndous pressure on the relationship even if the wider settler population might not have known that she was a mermaid.]

The Siren and Charles conceived a child together. The pregnancy resulted in a difficult birth with the baby caught halfway in transition. To the settlers the "deformed" baby was considered an abomination, maybe even a punishment from god for breaking the vows of marriage.

In desperation, Charles takes the baby to the Haida. He successfully pleads for their help only to discover his mermaid missing when he returns.

[Sidenote: Had the Haida been the dominant population at Bristol Cove at that time the birth of a hybrid would not have been a problem. Guess ethnic cleansing does come back to bite you in the behind after all.]

The Siren, assuming that Charles went into the woods and killed their child, had left for the water during his abscence, never to return.

[Sidenote: This part is the one which I find hard to reconcile. I find it hard to believe that Charles would have known to take the baby to the Haida without his Siren telling him. In any case, I find it hard to believe that he just left Bristol Cove with the Baby without telling her what he was intending to do.

Or maybe there is another explanation. Maybe she assumed that the baby was dead because people told her so? There were certainly plenty of people with motivation to get rid of her. Charles' human family, moralists opposed to children born out of wedlock, competing fishermen trying to rid Charles of his competitive advantage, religious zealots or plan old racists and bigots - and those are just the human factions. There might also have been Siren factions opposed to mingling with humans - imagine a 19th century version of Katrina - do you think sirens like that would have shied away from sabotaging such a relationship or even shied away from making one of their own disappear?]

Alone and with no access to the song - nor to any cure - Charles’ mental state deteriorated to the point of no return, his condition worsening due to self-medication with alcohol. It is quite likely that he did not understand what was happening to him.

[Speculation: Eventually - maybe with some "assistance" from some of the anti-Siren factions mentioned in the previous sidenote - he started blaming the Sirens for his mental problems, maybe even for taking away the siren he had fallen in love with.]

In 1868, after an unknown period of suffering excarbated by alcohol abuse, Charles H. Pownall, with the help of his shipmates surprised the sirens near the surface and massacred them.

The Sirens subsequently severed all human contact and went into hiding, forbidding any Siren to go on land and teaching their children to avoid the land.

(”Land bad. I learn this.)

The Hybrid daughter of Charles and his mermaid lived and prospered, despite being shunned by the rest of the Pownall family for allegedly being the daughter of a local prostitiute.

(”She was the first....”)

Acta est fabula. Clamate.

Addendum: The observations about the parallels between Ben and Charles and Ryn and Charle’s mermaid can be found here.

#Siren #siren freeform #freeform siren #charles pownall #long post #analysis #Pownall Massacre #ryn #Ben Pownall #helen hawkins #when you write about a massacre and realize the story was probably more heartbraking than you thought in the first place #I think I need a drink #jeez this was grim #pls excuse spelling mistakes I am le tired

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rapperkookz · 5 years

Text

Rush!BTΣ — college!au, borderline crack au w/ @cynoirsure

a story about three friends and their obstacles of relationships, academic probation, and figuring out that international kids aren’t all that bad.

4/35

word count: 2k

warnings: swearing, underage/college drinking, getting high, hints of hookup

Y/N’s POV

Tonight was the first huge frat party of the semester and it was being held at Seokjin and Hoseok’s apartment. Beta Tau Sigma was known around campus for three, maybe four, things.

Having the best brotherhood between all the fraternities.

Being incredibly attractive, but also super nice.

Throwing the biggest bangers.

Being mind blowing at sex, for both guys and girls.

You’ve experienced three out of the four things that the frat was known for, if you’ll experience all four is to be determined. You heard about the Beta Tau party not through Jimin or Kevin, but through one of your sisters in your sorority, Sigma Phi Omega. You would be lying if you said you weren’t excited, the first time you got wasted at a frat party was also hosted by the Betas. You were pretty sure that they made you and Jungkook chug a keg together, but your memory was a little hazy of that night — and you were positive Jungkook couldn’t remember the party either.

“Honestly, fuck this quiz tomorrow,” you said to no one in particular, “I’ll just fail I guess.”

You gathered up your belongings in the library and headed towards your Big’s apartment. You usually got ready with her for parties, and tonight was no exception. She screamed y/n as you knocked on her door, pulling you in for a crushing hug.

“Are you so ready for tonight?” She asked excitedly, “I heard Seokjin set up tables for beer pong later in the basement, it’s going to be crazy.”

You laughed, “Jieun unnie I can’t go too hard tonight, I have a quiz tomorrow for my 8 am.”

“Simple solution,” she said getting you a glass of water, “get fucked up during our pregame and in the beginning so you can sober up by your class in the morning.”

You laughed and connected to her speaker, blasting a playlist that you always put on to get you hype for parties.

---

Approximately 4 hours later, you found yourself at Seokjin and Hoseok’s apartment with your Big and a couple other Sigmas. You were far surpassed buzzed, completely tipsy, and on the brink of being drunk...and it was only 10 pm. The night was still young and you knew more people were coming later. All the guys from Beta Tau were living it up. Seokjin was currently playing beer pong - and losing - against one of the guys from another frat on campus. Joon and Yoongi were sitting down in the dining room, Joon had a beer in his hand while Yoongi casually drank a glass of whiskey on the rocks. Both of them seeming to be in a deep philosophical conversation of some sorts. Hoseok and Jimin were talking and picking up some girls, Hoseok some guys. Typical. You were certain you saw Jimin enter the guest bedroom an hour ago with a girl. Tae and Kevin were on the makeshift dance floor in the basement with some other Greek life members. Jungkook was nowhere to be found, at least that’s because you haven’t seen him yet since you arrived.

“y/n, you doing alright?” Namjoon asked worriedly as you stumbled in the kitchen for another drink. You flashed him a bright smile, your face flushed from the alcohol.

“I’m doing great, oppa.” You slurred, “Do you have any more tequila mixes?”

“Why don’t you drink some water first,” He suggested handing you his own water bottle, bringing you over to where him and Yoongi were. The three of you suddenly engaged in a conversation about superheroes and which was better, Marvel or DC.

“Obviously, Marvel is the better franchise,” Yoongi said, as worked up as you have ever seen him.

“Oppa, you’re wrong.” You said defiantly, “Jinhee loves Marvel and she’s also just wrong.”

Namjoon clicked his tongue, “I don’t know, DC just doesn’t give as much character development as Marvel does-”

“Fuck the character development, Aquaman and Wonder Woman are just superior to everything else.” You said, “like most of them are gifted with powers from birth or something, with the exception of Batman. But like, Iron Man?? He literally built his own powers, I could do that.”

“Batman did the same thing!” Yoongi said shocked. “Oh, if only Jungkook was here.”

“Where is he?” Namjoon asked wondering about their youngest brother, “He was here a couple hours ago.”

You stood up bidding them goodbye, “I need to pee.”

Although you’ve been here before, you have never navigated yourself around the place drunk, mistaking one of the bedrooms for a bathroom. Opening the door, you walked in to find Jungkook sitting on the bed, taking a hit of his dab pen as he played a round of Fortnite on Seokjin’s gaming computer. He turned around at the sound of the door opening, looking surprised at your entrance. “Oh fuck, sorry man give me a second. Play a solo or something.”

“O-Oh sorry, I thought this was the bathroom.” You mumbled, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by how attractive he looked. Jungkook wore black skinny jeans with a white tee shirt tucked in at the waist, his sleeves were rolled up accenting his biceps. “You look really hot right now, Kook.”

Fuck. “Did I say that out loud?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Jungkook nodded with a shy smile, rubbing his nape. “You look pretty good as well, y/n.”

“Thanks,” you said fiddling with the ends of your skirt. His eyes followed the movement of your hands, your stomach churning at the thought of him checking you out.

“Jin hyung has a private bathroom right here, you can use it.”

After peeing, you spent an extra 10 minutes in the bathroom just looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to fix your outfit, make it a little bit more slutty, also trying to sober up a little from your drunk state as to not make any more dumb slips. When you exited the bathroom, Jungkook was sitting casually on Jin’s bed, scrolling through his phone in one hand, twirling his dab pen in the other. You sat down on the bed across from him, the boy looking up in your direction with a smile, “wanna take a hit?”

“Yes please,” you said thankfully taking a hit from the dab and inhaling. Guess you’re gonna get crossed tonight. “How much have you drank?”

“Just a couple beers, we have our quiz tomorrow and I’m literally impossible to wake up.” He chuckled taking a hit and blowing some Os. You don’t think you’ve ever had a 1 on 1 conversation with Jungkook that lasted more than 5 minutes so the two of you casually getting high together while the Beta Tau party was in full swing was a new experience. By the time Jinhee and Seokjin entered the room, the two of them lightly bickering about something, you were definitely crossed, Jungkook on the other hand was baked, and the room had a hint of weed in the air.

“What are you two kids doing in here?” Seokjin asked curiously eyeing the two of you on his bed, “Please tell me that you didn’t fuck on my bed.”

“We didn’t fuck on your bed, hyung,” Jungkook answered with smile.

“You’re high as fuck,” The elder boy chuckled, “Get out and have some human communication, you two.”

“Besides, we’re doing a bet.” Jinhee chuckled.

“That was the only way I could get her to drink,” Jin said to which you stumbled over to your close friend.

“Unniee, I’m so glad you’re here we can party togetherr~”

“Christ, y/n.” She said stopping you from falling over. The two informed you and Jungkook of the bet.

Take a shot of vodka (or water depending on how fucked up you were already) every time Jimin makes out with a girl.

“Do the two girls earlier tonight count already?” You asked, “I saw oppa with some girls already.”

“I guess that’s two shots off the bat.”

You announced that you were going to get the shots, Jinhee supporting your steps as she guided you outside to the kitchen. The older girl cursed as you accidentally stepped on her foot with your heel, “sorry hehe.”

“How are my two favorite girls?” Hoseok smirked encountering the two of you in the kitchen.

“Make 10 shots Hoseok,” Jinhee said keeping you upright, “actually make that 8.”

“No I want to take shots too!” You whined as Jinhee and Hoseok talked about the bet against Jimin. From the corner of your eye, you spotted Kevin and Taehyung walk into the guest bedroom, but before you opened your mouth to say something, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jungkook, and Seokjin entered the kitchen.

“I guess that’s...12 shots?” Jinhee said, “make 2 water shots for y/n over here.”

“What am I, a bartender?” Hoseok huffed, “someone at least help me.”

“Can I please join the shots?” You asked getting an immediate no from Jinhee, Seokjin, Namjoon and Yoongi.

“You’ve been drinking for a while, y/n.” Namjoon said putting a hand on your shoulder. Seokjin chimed in, “plus you’ve been getting high with Jungkook.”

“You’re gonna regret it in the morning if you drink even more,” Yoongi crossed his arms.

You huffed and stomped on the floor like a child, “if I don’t get at least one shot of vodka I’m going to suck Hoseok oppa’s dick.”

The whole group tensed up at your challenge. Jungkook, surprisingly, spoke up first, “hyung, give her a shot.”

“I mean, I think this is a win-win situation for me.” Hoseok said leaning against the counter, “I don’t have to give her a shot.”

At that moment, Jimin stepped into the kitchen, wondering why all of you were gathered in the one place, “Hey guys, are we taking shots?”

“Oppa, if I don’t get a shot I’m sucking Hoseok oppa’s dick.”

It was as if a switch flipped off in Jimin’s head, “and suddenly, I’m sober. You’re gonna do nothing of that sort, you’ve had enough y/n.”

“Oh c’mon Chim, if she wants to suck my-”

“I’m gonna get Jieun over here and see if she can take you home,” Jimin said to you, “Joon hyung can you get y/n some water? And make sure my beloved Big doesn’t take her anywhere?”

“So touchy,” Hoseok said as Jimin walked away, “I’ll get someone else to suck my dick, no biggie. Sorry y/n, looks like you’re not getting another shot or a hookup tonight.”

You frowned watching the rest of the group take their shots, recording it on their snapchats or whatever. Jinhee and Seokjin sat with you as the rest of the boys dispersed into the party, your Big coming in with Jimin only a few minutes later.

“Little,” Jieun said with a smile, looking completely fine. You always marveled at how well she held her alcohol. “Jimin told me it’s time for you to go home.”

“I feel like a child,” You muttered under your breath.

She patted your arm, “You gotta take care of yourself at parties y/n, or you’ll make decisions you might regret. Besides, don’t you have a quiz tomorrow in your 8 am?”

Your shoulders slumped at the realization, suddenly feeling the need to cry. Jieun linked arms with you as you left, Jimin asking you to text him when you got back to your dorm, but there was no promise that you would remember in the 5 minute drive back.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at my apartment, y/n? You know you’re always welcome to, I have the futon.” Jieun offered, you shook your head saying that you just wanted to sober up on your own. And as if the night couldn’t get worse, your roommate had her girlfriend over so you definitely couldn’t even enter your own room. Getting your phone out, your fingers drunkenly hovered over the keyboard.

Jiohooonei, can I slewp in yiur dorn tonighr?

Almost immediately, you received a reply, making you grin and press the button in the elevator to floor two instead of your usual floor four.

Meanwhile back at the party, Jinhee was drinking casually with Seokjin, Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon. Kevin and Taehyung still weren’t anywhere to be seen.

“Fuck.” Taehyung breathed as Kevin palmed his crotch.

“We probably shouldn’t do this,” Kevin said as he sucked on Taehyung’s shoulder. The older one whined, hiding his face in his shoulder. Taehyung began to trail kisses from the crook of Kevin’s neck up to his earlobe, biting gently and whining once more.

“Why not?” The pout was prominent in Taehyung’s voice, his hands tracing patterns down Kevin’s arm. Kevin growled lowly, capturing Taehyung’s arms and holding them together.

“Because if we go further, I want you to be sober when I’m fucking you this good, love.” The younger one pulled away once more, not before kissing Taehyung’s temple once more. Taehyung whined once more, but Kevin had already been making himself presentable once more, waiting for Taehyung to do the same.

“What if there isn’t a next time?” Taehyung’s question came out as barely a whisper, making Kevin chuckle. He shook his head and smiled softly at Taehyung.

“For you? I’d give you a million times.”

1-31-19

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walkerismychoice · 6 years

Text

June - Part 1 (Liam X Drake)

Book: The Royal Romance

Summary: Chapter 2.1 of a 4 chapter series chronicling the months before Drake left for college and his relationship with Liam.

Rating: PG-13+ with some drinking and mature themes

A/N: I intended initially to make each month only one part, but I felt this one needed 2 parts. Also, I envision this to be around 2009, so I tried to keep that in mind in regards to technology and pop culture. There is nothing NSFW yet, but there may be in future parts. In the story, Drake and Liam have both already turned 18 and are legal adults.

Word Count: 2343

Tag List: @laniquelove, @bobasheebaby, @choiceswreckedme, @mfackenthal, @viktoriapetit, @boneandfur, @theroyalweisme, @debramcg1106, @ladynonsense, @hopefulmoonobject, @flynnomalleysPlease let me know if I missed anyone or if anyone wants to be added

Drake stripped off his cap and gown immediately following the graduation ceremony. "I'm so glad to be done with this place."

"It wasn't all bad, was it?" Liam questioned. "You had me, Maxwell, and Olivia, plus most of guys on the football team were cool."

"I don't know if I would put Maxwell and Olivia in the plus column."

"Admit it Drake, no matter how much they annoy you, they are your friends. You will miss us all."

"I'll be just fine seeing Maxwell and Olivia twice a year or whatever on school breaks. That is more than enough. You though, Liam, I will actually miss."

"You know Drake, my father's offer still stands for you to attend university here with me. Think about how much fun we'll have."

"Liam, I can't mooch off your family forever. This is just something I need to do."

Drake was going to miss Liam. So much in fact it hurt to think about it. But that was another reason he needed to go. Neither he nor Liam brought up that night on the football pitch again, but Drake couldn't get it out of his mind. It was absurd, and had to be a fluke, for both of them. So why couldn't Drake just forget about it? His codependency with Liam had reached new heights, tricking Drake into believing he had romantic feelings for Liam. There was no other explanation. Liam was his world, and Drake desperately needed to expand his world apart from Liam.

"It was worth a shot, but there's still time to change your mind. I have a feeling this summer will be epic."

"Speaking of ‘epic’," Drake said, "what's the deal with the party your brother wants to throw for us tomorrow night?"

"My father and Regina will be away on diplomatic matters over the weekend, so Leo wants to throw us a graduation combined with congrats on winning nationals party.”

Leo and Liam weren't particularly close, but Leo had just finished college himself, and liked any excuse for a party. Leo also knew Liam and Drake were a packaged deal, so it was thoughtful of Leo to include Drake. It's not like anyone else would be throwing him a party.

“Should be an interesting night."

"Yes, probably more interesting than our family dinner tonight."

"Well, I'm not technically family so-"

"Drake, you are not getting out of this. Father and Regina are hosting this for us. Savannah and Bastien will be there too."

"Fine," Drake acquiesced. "But we are escaping as soon as we can."

Dinner was as long and dull as Drake imagined it would be. The food was okay, but Drake would be just as happy with a good steak or burger rather than expensive cuisine. And seven courses was at least five too many in his opinion. Two and a half hours later, dessert was finally served, and Drake and Liam were free to go.

"Okay Drake, you were so eager to get out of there. What are your big plans for tonight?" Liam asked.

"Not a clue. Maybe we could take the boat out again." Drake smirked.

"Very funny, Drake. I told you I'm never doing that again after we almost died the last time."

"We were fine after I saved your ass. You know I would never let anything happen to you. How many times have I gotten you out of trouble already?"

Liam cocked an eyebrow. "And how many times did you get me into that trouble in the first place?"

"Fair enough. Since that's out, what do you suggest?"

"Hmm..." Liam paused thoughtfully. "I've got nothing. Why don't we just watch movies or play video games in my room? We haven't done that for awhile."

"Works for me," Drake agreed. Liam had a pretty nice setup in his room and it was one place they were never bothered by palace staff or anyone else. They had been so busy in the last month with exams and football, the two of the hadn't really just hung out together in quite a while. Even though they still hadn't talked about what happened, things didn't seem at all strained between them, so maybe Liam really hadn't thought about it again. Just two guy friends hanging out together. Nothing more to it.

They started off playing FIFA obviously, as they were both obsessed with the sport. They tired of it after awhile and decided to watch a movie on Liam's laptop so they could stream Netflix.

"How about Iron Man?" Liam suggested.

"Sure, I haven't seen that yet. I wonder if they will ever make a Captain America movie?”

"I know you have a thing for him, Drake,” Liam teased. “I've seen the stash of action figures in your room."

"They are collectibles! It's not like I play with them."

"Sure Drake, whatever you say."

Drake threw a pillow at Liam's head. "Just start the movie."

It wasn't uncommon for Drake and Liam to watch movies huddled together on Liam's bed. But it felt different now. Drake tried to keep some distance between them because he wasn't sure where his thoughts would take him if there was any physical contact. This meant Drake had to awkwardly strain his neck to see, and it did not go unnoticed.

"What are you doing over there? Get closer so you can actually see." Liam reached his arm around Drake's shoulder, coaxing him to scoot closer. If Liam was okay with this, Drake could be too. He just had to focus on the movie, and not how good Liam smelled or that every incidental touch lingered on his skin. So far it wasn't working.

“You’ve been quiet, Drake. Where’s all your typical sarcastic commentary?”

"I guess I'm just tired. Thinking I should just go to bed."

Liam placed his hand on Drake's thigh, his soft gaze fixed on him. "Are you sure there's nothing at all you want to talk about"?

Drake felt heat rise in his cheeks, and his heart beat faster. Either Liam was totally oblivious to everything, or he knew exactly what was going on and wanted Drake to say it out loud. Drake was still trying to wrap his head around his own feelings that were admittedly getting harder and harder to deny. He wasn't ready to blurt it all out to Liam and scare him off if it was all one sided.

"Nope, just tired."

"All right then...I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yep, see ya," Drake replied and swiftly retreated to his room.

Drake watched as multiple kegs of beer were wheeled into the palace. "How many people did Leo invite?"

"Well, he invited our entire graduating class, plus a bunch of his college friends and other nobles."

"Great...Is it too early to start drinking?" Drake didn't know what he expected, but he shouldn't have been surprised that every young noble and socialite in Cordonia would be there. It was Leo making the guest list after all. Drake was just hoping for something smaller and more laid back. At least there would be plenty of alcohol to get him through.

The party guests trickled in and before long, the palace was packed, the music was playing, and Drake was a couple beers in and actually starting to enjoy himself. Drake found himself hanging out with Liam, Olivia, Maxwell, and a few of their other noble friends.

"Let's play a game!" Olivia suggested. "How about truth or dare?"

Drake groaned. "You know I hate that game."

"Exactly," Olivia replied. "If you are too afraid to play, you can go drink by yourself because lord knows you don't have the social skills to strike up a conversation with anyone outside of this group."

Drake didn't want to give Olivia the satisfaction. "No, I'll play."

“Okay then, Liam, why don’t you start,” Olivia directed.

“Maxwell, truth or dare?”

“You know I have no fear,” Maxwell asserted. “Dare.”

Liam looked around the room. “I dare you to go hit on one of Leo’s friends. Bonus points if it actually works.”

"I thought you were going to give me a challenge. Watch the master at work."

Maxwell walked up to a petite brunette. They were out of earshot but Drake could see her smiling. "I can't believe it. Is this actually working?" She proceeded to take Maxwell's phone and appeared to be typing her number in it.

Maxwell walked back with a huge grin on his face. "That was too easy. Her name is Jenny and she's an American exchange student."

"Let me see that." Drake grabbed the phone. "Her phone number is 867-5309? Doesn't that sound family, Maxwell?"

The whole group burst out laughing but Maxwell was clueless. "I don't get it."

Liam shook his head. "Maxwell, even I have heard that song one hundred times. Hopefully you can get over your rejection quickly because it's your turn to choose someone."

"I'm sure there will be plenty of other ladies lining up for me, especially after I pull out my break dancing moves. But back to the game, Olivia, truth or dare?"

"Truth." Drake was not surprised. Olivia never held anything back.

"Okay, how many people in this circle have you hooked up with?" Maxwell inquired.

Olivia looked around at the 9 other people in the group. “It depends on how loosely you define ‘hook-up,” but I’m going to say four.”

“Wait,” Maxwell appeared perplexed. “I know about, Nikos, Eleanor, and Luca. Who’s the 4th?”

Drake held his breath. It happened one time and they swore it would never be repeated. He and Olivia were both a little drunk and stupid. The didn’t have sex, but close enough. After that, they went back to outwardly hating each other because it was much easier that way. Drake prayed that Olivia was as afraid to let that secret out as he was.

“Too bad you didn’t ask the right question Maxwell. You only asked how many, not who,” Olivia replied and Drake breathed a sigh of relief he hoped nobody noticed. "Drake, truth or dare?"

Fuck. Of course she would pick him. There was no good option as Drake was sure she would be out to embarrass him either way. He decided on dare, figuring that was the better bet rather than having her try to dig out his deep dark secrets. "Dare, I guess," Drake muttered.

"Excellent. I dare you to kiss Liam...on the lips."

“Not going to happen,” Drake declared. “Try again.”

“Drake I said you didn’t have to play if you don’t want to but a dare’s a dare. You don’t get a options.”

Okay, he didn’t have to make this a big thing. Drake leaned in and gave Liam a quick peck on the lips. “There are you happy now?”

“What even was that? That doesn’t count. Give him a real kiss this time,” Olivia demanded.

Drake tried to protest again, but the whole group was egging him on at this point. This was a terrible idea, but he was starting to feel the alcohol and just wanted to shut everyone up. He grabbed Liam by the shoulders and their lips crashed together. Liam parted his mouth without hesitation and wrapped his arms around Drake, pressing their bodies close together. That probably would have been enough to satisfy Olivia, but Drake got lost in the moment and kissed Liam deeper. Liam could have pushed Drake away at any time but he responded with equal hunger, all the sexual tension between them dissipating into one another. Drake came back to reality and abruptly ended the kiss. Liam stood silent and motionless, matching the rest of the crowd who seemed uncertain of what they had just witnessed.

“My god Drake, do you and Liam need to go get a room?”

“Shut up Olivia. I just did what you wanted. Although I probably do have a better shot with him than you ever will. I’ve had enough of this game already. I’m out.” Drake walked away and into the kitchen where the kegs were to get another beer. He sat down at a table alone to try and get drunk enough to forget how much he liked kissing Liam and how obvious it probably was to everyone who saw.

“Drake Walker, sulking by himself...what an unexpected surprise.” Leo’s tone was dripping with sarcasm. “You look like you could use something stronger than beer.” Leo pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses.

“No thanks, I usually stay away from the hard stuff.”

“Have you tried this? Come on, I think you’ll like it.” Leo poured them each a shot. Drake took the shot and immediately started coughing. Leo laughed and poured him another shot. “The second one usually goes down easier than the first. Lets try this again.”

Drake downed the second shot. “It burns less this time. I guess it doesn’t taste so bad.”

“So you want to talk about whatever has you down?” Drake shook his head no. “Good because I really didn’t want a listen, but maybe I can cheer you up another way. Hey Sophie come here.” Leo motioned over a pretty blonde girl about Leo’s age. “Sophie, this is Drake, my brother’s best friend and guest of honor number two. He needs some cheering up.”

“Hi Drake. You are pretty cute...are you 18 yet?”

“Yep. Have been for half a year.” Drake replied, oblivious at the time as to why this was relevant. He still wasn’t really up for conversation, but she kept talking and he didn’t ask her to leave. Before he knew it, she was asking Drake to take her back to his room. He was sober enough to realize what was happening, but drunk enough to not care that it was an impulsive decision. They passed back through the room where the group was still playing drinking games. Out of the corner of his eye, Drake saw Liam watching him walk out with Sophie. He didn’t dare turn back to check the expression on Liam’s face. It was better not to know.

#playchoices #the royal romance #drake x liam #my fic #long post

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fulgurantfirstborn · 6 years

Text

FILL IN THE QUESTIONS AS IF YOU ARE BEING INTERVIEWED FOR AN ARTICLE AND YOU WERE YOUR MUSE.

Tagged by @bladeofloyalty Tagging… @cursedandcarried (either or both brothers), @heavenlybard, @royalpainter, @sinnhelmingr, @thisknightofcatarina, @trustednot, @longfingerrose, and whomster else wishes to be interviewed

For a Bloodborne AU Gwynfor so that I can get some ideas down! Also put under a Read-More since the post got relatively lengthy.

Questions/answers range from silly and casual to potentially triggering (canon-typical mentions of violence and death) and NSFW (in the sexual sense).

1) What is your name? “Gwynfor R. Morgan.”

2) What is your real name? He scratched his chin and laughed. “That is my real name though… But should you want to know my full name, just know the ‘R’ stands for Ryohei.”

3) Do you know why you’re called that? ”My father wanted to give me a good Welsh name and he has a rather large ego. So of course,” he snorted, “his firstborn son had to be named a derivative of his own name Gwyn.” Straightening up slightly, he then continued, “My mother meanwhile is Japanese and wanted to name me after her father, hence my middle name.”

4) Are you single or taken? “Taken. You might know a certain Blood Saint around these parts, yeah?”

5) What are your powers and abilities? “I am just a human man, no beasthood nor kinhood within me. Hmm… I suppose I can certainly fight with heavy weapons well.” He flexed an arm for emphasis. “And I favor the use of bolt paper and arcane attacks that deal electric damage to my enemies.”

6) What color are your eyes? ”Dark brown.”

7) Have you ever dyed your hair? “Goodness no. And actually, I seemed to have inherited my father’s propensity for premature greying.” He reached up to roll a few strands of hair between his fingers. “So I may look like an old man, but I am still only in my twenties!”

8) Do you have any family members? ”I already mentioned my father. And I have two younger sisters. However, my sisters were not born from my mother, she left the family when I was still young and before my father remarried.”

9) Do you have any pets? “Hard enough to find lodging in Yharnam already! I highly doubt I could find a place that would accept a stranger and his pet. I would have one of those exotic monitor lizards if I could though…”

10) Tell me something you don’t like. “Unnecessarily negative people. Especially those who would seek some twisted pleasure in putting others down with their cynical pessimism.” Sighing, he rested his chin on a hand and furrowed his brows. “Yharnam seems to be about hell right now, indeed, but I refuse to let such an atmosphere ruin my outlook on life.”

11) Do you have any hobbies or activities you do in your spare time? ”I study architecture actually! There are wonderful libraries here with records for many of the city’s historical buildings. I am limited from seeing all of the design works though…”

12) Have you ever hurt anyone before? “Well, yes, plenty. Hunting beasts has never been an easy task.”

13) Have you…ever killed anyone? ”Undoubtedly so.” He merely shrugged his shoulders. “Such is the duty of a hunter. Mind you, I have never killed humans like ourselves, only those who have completely turned into beasts.”

14) What kind of animal are you? “Well, humans are technically an animal, aren’t they?”

15) Name your worst habits. ”Haha, I think I can be rather too boisterous at times. Consequently, my laughter can be rather grating and irritating to those unused to my presence.”

16) Do you look up to anyone? “Perhaps you would think me a madman, but I highly respect Old Hunter Djura. I wish we did not have to slaughter all of these beasts. But unlike him, I will still raise my weapon in defense.” He sighed. “I still value the lives of those still human after all.”

17) Gay, straight, bisexual, other? ”I find all sorts of people appealing. Gender plays no part in my attraction to them.”

18) Do you go to school? “I do, I go to one of the colleges around here for architecture.”

19) Do you ever want to marry and have kids someday? ”Ah, well, I should figure out how well I can stick to my commitments first.”

20) Do you have any fans? “No, I highly doubt an ‘outsider’ like me will ever be a fan favorite in Yharnam.”

21) What are you afraid of? ”As all hunters are, I am afraid of becoming a beast myself.” He paused and slightly turned away, bringing a hand to his cheek. “I am afraid of becoming mindless, of hurting and killing those I love here, of being unable to return home to my sisters.”

22) What do you usually wear? He pulled up an end of his scarf, gently waving the fabric around. “My trenchcoat and scarf I never go without when I walk through the streets of Yharnam. The coat is just comfortable while the scarf is… a memento of my mother.”

23) Do you love someone? ”But of course.”

24) What class are you? “I am just a hunter, nothing special alas. For the time being, I have joined the Confederates of the League. If the Powder Kegs were still around, I would have joined them though.”

25) How many friends do you have? ”Back home, I had quite a number of friends, but here? Not so much. Again, Yharnamites rarely seem to warm up to strangers.”

26) What are your thoughts on pie? “I think it would depend on the pie fillings. Personally, I have never been a fan of sweets myself so I would avoid fruitier pies. Mincemeat pies are delicious though.”

27) Favorite drink ”There is nothing better than hard cider after a long night’s hunt! But I always have to tell the person pouring to keep blood out of my drink.”

29) What is your favorite place? “High above Yharnam. I scale whatever buildings I can just to enjoy the view!”

30) Are you interested in someone? “I mean, I am currently seeing someone, so yes.”

31) What’s your dick size? Smirking, he rested a hand on his chin. “Wouldn’t you like to see for yourself?”

32) Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean? "The ocean seems endless, I cannot imagine what it would be like to drift out to sea and drown into darkness. So…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I would rather swim in a lake.”

33) What’s your ‘type’? “Anyone who will make me weak in the knees. For whatever reason. I appreciate a sentimental soul, but I also appreciate a strong fighter.”

34) Any fetishes? “Oho, do I really want to condemn myself? Well, alright, I must admit I love delicate lingerie. On both women and men. I would wear some myself but,” he waved a hand nonchalantly, “Yharnam folk seem somewhat more conservative about this type of stuff.”

35) Top or bottom? Dominant or submissive? ”Many of my lovers are usually surprised to learn so, but I can be… quite submissive. Whether I take a top or bottom position usually doesn’t matter since I can well accommodate to people’s desires.” He leaned forward as if to whisper something quite scandalous. “Mine own usually involve me on the bottom though.”

36) Camping or indoors? “Oh, I most definitely enjoy being outside, but more alongside rocky cliffs than deep woodlands. But if I had to stay indoors, I would not object to exploring a beautiful church.”

37) Are you waiting for this interview to be over? “Most definitely.” He laughed sheepishly, “I find no enjoyment in sitting still for so long, just look at how my legs are jiggling!”

#txt #responses #bborne au

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thewidowstanton · 5 years

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Dangerous Steve, outdoor showman, comedy actor, Sideshow Illusions performer

Dangerous Steve is the stage name of Steve Collison, who was born in King’s Lynn but grew up near the Buckinghamshire village of Middle Claydon. He had the most extraordinary childhood and started living up to his name by doing dangerous things at a ridiculously young age. He was billed – by agents such as Bernard Woolley, TB Phillips and Temple’s Gala agency – as ‘the World’s Youngest Motorcycle Stunt Rider’. As well as touring internationally as Dangerous Steve, he has also worked with Magic Carpet Theatre – where he is company manager – for 30 years. And he regularly performs with Jon Marshall’s Sideshow Illusions and Dr Phantasma’s Amazing Ten in One Show.

Steve is married to fellow Sideshow Illusions performer Alexandra Collison, who was my first Widow interviewee, under her maiden name of Boanas. Alex, who is a trained soprano and has an MA in performance, often plays Yvette – the Headless Lady, Miss Elastina and No-Middle Myrtle, as well as Romana the Gypsy Queen on the Ladder of Swords. They have two children, Flossie and Winnie, who are almost destined to follow in their parents’ showbusiness footsteps. Steve chats to Liz Arratoon.

The Widow Stanton: When and how did you start stunt riding? Dangerous Steve: My dad, Peter, was the butler at Claydon House stately home in Buckinghamshire. At Christmas when I was five, Sharon, my sister, was getting lots of presents and I almost started getting a bit teary because I noticed I wasn’t getting as many. Then I was taken into the other room where there was a big present. Somewhere I’m on Cine film; there’s me unwrapping a motorbike, and apparently I just stood there shaking for ages, which was very funny. I started off just riding round the estate for a while but dad wasn’t very impressed with me just haring around on a motorbike, he wanted me to do tricks and stuff like that.

As a child, to be brought up at Claydon House… I was the only one on the estate as my sister went away to boarding school as a dancer. Sometimes I just wanted to kick a football around with my friends; on the other hand I did go around the estate thinking how lucky I was and how amazing the views over the lake were on summer evenings. We used to live in the courtyard. There was a swimming pool and stuff like that, which Sir Ralph and Lady Verney never really used, so I had my own little swimming pool. They were like my grandparents. I’d go round there on Christmas day and open presents with them.

I joined The Spirit of Britain junior motorcycle display team, which was run by a guy called Gus Scott, who used to train Eddie Kidd. I was with them from when I was five years old to seven. They were based in Luton and I toured around with them, but because I had so much space at home and they could only meet twice a week, I started practising all the tricks alone. My dad was thinking, ‘Well, he can now do all these tricks himself’, so he started taking me to do all the galas and carnivals around the country to perform on my own. Your dad sounds amazing. What sort of dad would give his kid a motorbike? Did he want to be in showbusiness himself? Yes, he did. He was very different. He managed to get an Equity card and had done some extra work and been in shows doing whatever he was asked to do. I think people are now quite interested in butlers and stately homes. My mum was very proud of me but would only watch me once I could do the tricks without falling off. I hurt myself but I never broke any bones with the motorbike. My dad was very good at starting off with quite basic things and was very strict on making sure I did things the right way. How much fun was all this for a kid? It was very exciting. I couldn’t sleep the week before a show. We’d go away in a big lorry and it was like a holiday, apart from I used to have to map-read. Some of these country fairs are in the middle of nowhere and one wrong turn, you could end up backing the lorry two miles down the road in the way of tractors… I soon got very good at map-reading because otherwise I’d get into so much trouble. I was doing tricks jumping over fire and through fire at seven or eight. Dad was very good at building props and made a tunnel of fire. Once we’d got the frame with all the fire straw in the middle of the park – we’d found a field without any sheep on it – I remember saying to him just before we lit it, ‘Dad, when we light the fire, what if I don’t want to do it?’, and he said: “You will do it. Now I’ve built it, you’ll do it.”

Once they were built, there was no going back and I’d practise and practise and practise. As I got older, people expected more from me, so the ability went up with my age; bigger jumps, bigger fire, pyrotechnics… because it was only me, whereas some of the bigger army display teams, like the White Helmets, would fill the stage. I had a load of publicity when I was awarded The Star newspaper Best in Britain award, presented by David Essex. I was sponsored by National, the petrol firm who used Smurfs to promote their brand. Sharon joined the act. Later she became a dancer and choreographer and now runs Claydons Academy, teaching dance and drama, but then she was a Smurf! Were you paid appearance fees? Yes. Once when I had a three-week tour in Scotland, the whole family came up there because it was in the summer holidays. We all stayed in a tent and it rained for most of the time. I can remember waking up one morning floating on an airbed. I didn’t realise until I put my foot outside the sleeping bag into a load of water that the whole family was floating! I’d get paid every week and we’d accumulated quite a bit of cash. The Leeds Building Society was doing deals at the gala that if you were a child you could open a bank account with £1 and you got a money box and a bag and stuff like that. Mum and dad decided the safest thing to do with the money was to go to open up an account. I was about eight. They were expecting me to give £1 and suddenly I had this wad of cash. They must have wondered where I’d got it from and just thought I’d stolen it or found it.

Did you ever go to school? I did. The school was very good and if ever there was a school fete or anything like that they’d always ask me to do my motorcycle stunt show. I was filmed on my motorbike for children’s TV with Anneka Rice, who once came to school. We had a mock school fete and she was lying down and I ended up jumping over her. What happened next? The motorbike act stopped when public liability insurance started getting really expensive. I was about 14. Then my dad and I toured the Crazy Brigade – a comedy fire brigade, very much Keystone Cops, very visual – round country shows and big galas. It was a comedy car act that drove on its own and fell apart, but it was more like a stunt comedy act. There was a lot of water! My dad built a human cannon and we thought, ‘Oh, we need an act for it’, especially when he’d taken a picture of it and sold it. We had ten shows booked in before we even had an act.

I used to worry; we had a prop, a comedy cannon, but no show. It blew up at the end and I went flying out of the end of it but not a great distance. I never got to the net on the other side of the arena. But we did it in the end and it was very successful. I knew Martin Burton of Zippos Circus from the galas and carnivals, rather than as a circus contact. When I was 15, in my last year at school, he kindly said I could do work experience on their theatre tour. Other people worked in the local bakery. I went to Wales and Carlisle and never went back to school.

What does Dangerous Steve actually do? It kind of depends where I’m booked to do it. If it’s in the middle of a town centre early on a Saturday morning with a few people walking past with shopping bags, the last thing they want to do is get stopped to watch a show by some nutter in the street. I try to make my show very entertaining and try to be likeable on stage. If it’s indoors and the audience is put there for me, it’s the same show but I have to work in a different way. I do ten things; I start on my motorcycle monowheel. It builds up a big crowd straightaway. I sit inside the wheel – the engine is inside it – and it’s a very difficult bike to balance and ride. I’ve spent the last three years learning how to do a new trick on it; a double loop the loop.

I then go on to my motorcycle sidecar, which I ride round, introduce myself, and then stand on top of the seat and juggle knives. Then I do some fire. With outdoor shows I try to make it really very appealing at the start to distract people from the funfair and the stalls by doing fire tricks and some big fireballs with fire whips and things like that…

Fire whips? Yes, they create a massive fireball. I go from there to the unsupported ladder, so I’m up high, talking to people telling them what they’re about to see, and if they don’t want to see it now’s the time to leave! I’m very proud of balancing on top of a ten-foot ladder. It’s scary, as I don’t like heights! Then I then do a giant rola-bola, so I’m on a tower, on top of a beer keg on its side and on top of a board, and then I go through a fire hoop. Then I juggle a chainsaw, and do my giant unicycle, which is bigger this year, a ten-foot unicycle, and then into a blindfold motorcycle stunt. I set two chainsaws going – possibly four this year – on a frame, and I ride round blindfolded and through the frame with a steel shield on my face and a hood over my head, which I get the audience to check. And, you know, hopefully I don’t cut my head off.

Has anything ever gone wrong? When I was learning, I broke my arm just before doing a show in a school hall. I thought, ‘That really hurt, I think I’ve damaged my arm’. In the first part of show I had to play the drums. Oh, my goodness, every time I hit the drums it was excruciating. 15 years later I finally learnt to do the trick I was trying when I broke my arm! I did a show in Scotland last year and before I went on, they announced that they were having a dog show and they’d put a big marquee in the corner of the arena, which made it quite narrow. I was driving my monowheel but I tipped over too far and the foot peg stuck into the ground and I went right over doing a somersault in the wheel, I flew out of it, got back on it, and carried on and the crowd loved it! [Laughs]

Then I got on my sidecar to juggle the knives and I went over a bump and one of the knives went into my face. I had blood running down my face. I looked at the organisers who were looking at me, like, ‘What have we booked, some cowboy?’, but actually, afterwards they loved it and they want me back. [Laughs] So it pays to hurt yourself sometimes.

How did you learn all your other skills? Because I’ve been involved in so many shows over the years, I kind of picked up all these skills individually. It was a bit of watching others and trial and error. My show is very different to anyone else’s on the outdoor circuit. I don’t know anyone else who does some of the tricks, but I’ve seen someone else doing others and I’ve thought, ‘Oh, that would be perfect for my show’.

Do you have a natural ability to pick things up? Probably not. It’s practice, and a lot of the things I’ve learnt to do, I was a teenager. If you’re a teenager you don’t mind falling off so much. It doesn’t hurt so much. I must admit some of the time now, when I’m trying new stuff out, I do think, ‘Am I a bit old for this?’.

I believe there’s one motorbike stunt that I’ve done that you haven’t… [Laughs] Yes, yes. The Wall of Death! It’s a dream and an ambition one day to do it.

It was horrific but you would love it! I’m going to contact Jake Messham and try to arrange it. I should do it September because it’s always a little bit dangerous trying new tricks out just before you get really busy for the summer season.

And the Globe of Death, do you fancy that? I would love to try. I’d try anything really.

How do you divide your time? We’re trying to stay busy all year round and it is really busy. The summer is now crazy with Dangerous Steve, so every weekend and Bank Holiday and there seem to be a lot of agricultural shows in the week as well. Last August I went from Orkney to Guernsey, doing shows on the way down as well. Summer season now… outdoor shows seem to be really good, really healthy and a full season of shows, like the olden days, really. When that quietens off in September, we go into Magic Carpet theatre shows and December, we’re sold out in schools performing a theatre show.

How did you come to join Magic Carpet so young? After Zippos the school let me go off on more work experience with Jon Marshall, who I’d worked with in the galas and carnivals when he was The Man with the X-ray Eyes. Magic Carpet is his children’s theatre company that tours schools, art centres and theatres up and down the country and occasionally we get to go abroad. The shows are very visual, good fun and exciting. It’s a comedy play. We don’t have any big message; it’s just a great way to introduce children to live theatre. They laugh all the way through and if they haven’t seen much before, they come out absolutely buzzing. Jon is very good at making it exciting and understandable. It’s a bit of a rollercoaster with highs, but we also bring them down again. We know when the dangerous bits are coming up where the kids might shout out, but no one needs to be on edge as we’ve got them under control.

Do you feel you sort of owe your career to your dad, really? Yes, very much so, dad and Jon. All through my childhood I had so much respect for my dad and so much help, hours and hours of dragging me round the country, which I enjoyed. I enjoyed where I lived at the stately home, and also the travelling around at the same time. He would be working after I’d gone to bed out in the workshop, building props for me and I’d be practising with them after school the next day, probably falling off, breaking it, and he’d be back in the workshop again mending it and telling me not to fall off again.

Do you think your experience could happen to a child these days because of health and safety… It would be very difficult. Even now with Flossie, if she falls over, the first thing that goes through your mind when she goes to pre-school, they’re going to see a bruise and it’s going to have to go in a report and they ask how it happened. They also ask the child as well to see if the stories match, whereas when I was a child and did The Spirit of Britain, I remember we were doing some practising and I set off the wrong way round the arena, ending up colliding with another bike, fell off, the foot peg went into my foot, I ended up in hospital, and then a couple of days later it was all forgotten. I wouldn’t want Flossie to hurt herself and there are ways of learning tricks with protection, but I wouldn’t put her off doing what I did. I try not to be too pushy with her because I think slow and steady will win the race.

Not like yer dad then? [Laughs] [Laughs] To be honest she’s only four, a little bit younger than I was when I started. But she is very keen on running onstage at the end of the show and she likes to go in the blade box, with blades in it. I’ve got a motorbike and sidecar and last year in Poynton, near Manchester, she sat on the sidecar.

Did you ever imagine that this would be your life? No, but later on in school everyone was talking about what they were going to do as a career, and I did think, ‘What the hell am I going to do?’. Then I thought, ‘Well, actually, I quite like what I do now. At the age of 15 I’ve already got quite a few years’ experience behind me. I’ve learnt how to do things and how not to do things’. So it would have been a waste not to carry on, and I’m so glad I stuck at it. When you’re a teenager sometimes the grass is always greener on the other side. When I was getting towards 19, some of my mates were earning quite good money doing other things, and I was thinking, ‘Oh, should I change what I do?’, but obviously I’m so glad I didn’t. I love it more now than ever.

Dangerous Steve will be appearing at Kimpton in Hertfordshire on 4 May, 2019 at the start of his summer season. Check his website for details.

Picture credit: Ian Spooner

Steve’s website

Twitter: @DangerousSteve1 @sideshowmagic

Follow @TheWidowStanton on Twitter

#dangerous steve #steve collison #sideshow illusion #Jon Marshall #magic carpet theatre #motorbike stunt rider #monowheel #anable monowheel #interview #alex collison

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uncompute · 7 years

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Bend

Chatting with a friend about how terrifying it is to say goodbye to everything you know, and everything that is comfortable, and everything that is easy, to try something new (Hi, Irissa!). I’ve never been the most adventurous person and my personality actually craves consistency and the dependable. So the first few weeks of this trip (and if I’m honest, every few weeks since we’ve been gone) were (and occasionally continue to be) really hard.

I couldn’t pick up the phone to call my Mom (which I wanted to on several occasions) because just the thought of talking to her made me sob. I remembered a talk I heard one time about how you should never call or write home if all you have are negative things to say because it frames your situation in a way that is impossible to change. I heeded that advice and waited until I had my first really *great* day in Bend to call home. It took a while for that to happen, mainly due to the unreal amount of snow and ice on the ground, causing us to fall down multiple times while walking anywhere and get our car stuck every time we tried to get groceries or go on a hike.

The first *great* day was after I had gone to my first yoga class, something I hadn’t ever done by myself, and Dave and I had gotten drinks at a Brewery afterwards and chatted with some locals. After that evening, I was finally ready to share some of my experiences with the people I care about most. And I think I was ready to embrace the city for all it has to offer. Which is a lot, despite having over 18 inches of snow dump on us the day after we arrived, and it being January. So without further adieu, here’s what we found in Bend after a month.

Hikes: Deschutes National Forest: There are miles of forest available for off-leash hiking with your dog, cross country skiing, snowshoeing, and more. We opted just to do a short hike due to not having any proper equipment. We were not disappointed.

Sahalie Falls/Clear Lake: After googling some sweet hikes, we decided to try and head to Clear Lake, about an hour from Bend. We didn’t realize that the several feet of snow on the ground might have any impact on our hikes. We weren’t discouraged though, especially after landing at Sahalie Falls and finding this view.

Clear Lake was virtually deserted and so Dexter got to have an off-leash experience. We could only hike on paths that had been packed down by other hikers and snowshoers, and Dexter found out the hard way several times what happens if you deviate from the path. You wind up thigh-high in snow.

Tumalo Falls: Our friend Alex made the long trek out West to visit us and we opted to hike Tumalo Falls one day while he was in town. The road to the Falls is closed so you have to hike 2.5 miles on the road to see it. Totally worth it.

Alex explored the area while Dave and I worked (gotta pay for these AirBnB’s!) and mentioned Smith Rock State Park is amazing. We were sad to have missed it.

Pilot Butte: This is an easy 1 mile up, 1 mile down hike right in the center of town. We went on a sunny day and could see for miles. Bring your yaktraks, folks! Dave and I were slippin' and slidin' all over the place. Fun times. Also this picture is awful because we only had my phone and it only takes selfies and is v old.

LaPine State Park: We hiked to the “Big Tree,” the biggest tree in Oregon. In theory, this was an easy hike. However, we opted to try it on a rainy day where the snow caved beneath our feet constantly. Not so easy.

Shevlin Park: A gorgeous park 5 minutes from the city. We did a 5 miler in the snow with Dexter and he didn’t move the rest of the day.

Beverages: Bend has no shortage of coffee shops and breweries. Some of our favorite coffee shops included Bluebird, which had a London Calling tea latte that will blow your mind. We frequented Backporch Coffee Roasters as it was a short walk from our apartment, and Spoken Moto, this amazing combination motorcycle garage/coffee shop that also serves beer. Dave was in heaven. I think his heart is still there, smelling that grease and drinking way too many iced coffees.

We attempted the Bend Ale Trail, which involves hitting 10 of the 20 million breweries in Bend. While we didn’t get to them all (our livers thank us), we did stop by 10 Barrel, Silver Moon (Katie’s favorite), Sunriver, Crux (another favorite), McMenimans, and Deschutes.

Both times we went to Silver Moon they had something awesome going on- the first trip was to see Lief Whitaker talk about climbing Mount Everest twice and the second time was to come in last place during Trivia.

We tried to take pictures of McMenimans’, this huge brewery/restaurant/movie theater/hot tub/outdoor complex but they didn’t turn out. We went to a High Gravity brew fest here and enjoyed the fact that many of the bars and restaurants have outdoor fire pits where you can drink and eat outside regardless of the temperature.

We also made sure to try some of the beer from other breweries, including Upworthy, Cascade Lakes, Goodlife, and Boneyard. All delicious. Personal favorite: Silvermoon’s 97 IPA. Tastes like home.

Food: We really tried our best to not spend all of our money on food in Bend. We ate the most amazing brussels sprouts at Crux Brewing Company, had some delicious burgers at Brother John’s Ale House, and the best brunch ever (?) at Chow (thanks for the recommendation and gift card, Mikey and Lauren!).

Other mentions: Thanks to Dave’s Brother Kevin and his wife Steph, we went on this awesome tour called Shoes, Views and Brews on Mt. Bachelor, the big mountain in the area best known for skiing. We snowshoed, stopped and tried different beers from local breweries, and got to catch some amazing views. This was unlike anything we’ve done and so worth it.

I got to attend a free teacher training put on by the National Forest in Bend all about teaching outdoor education in early childhood education. It was an amazing program that allowed me to see how schools out West are incorporating the outdoors into their daily curriculum- nerd moment.

We also tried to go to this K-9 keg pull, a race where a bunch of dogs pull kegs around. We drove out to the race only to find out it was cancelled due to the weather. #bummer.

That’s it and that’s all. ’Til next time, Bend.

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mattsammonsez · 5 years

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Free Advice Friday: Say Cheese! (Without Making it Look Cheesy)

One of the many things I stress when it comes to polishing your on-line profile is taking the time to do the on-line profile to its completion. Check every box, upload every document, fill in every blank including a cover letter if the application asks for it. It’s time-consuming, and depending on the site you’re on you may spend a good hour detailing your career and goals. But there is one simple thing you can do that makes a huge difference-- use good quality, professional pictures to show the world who you are.

The little device in your pocket may be called a phone, but ever since the iPhone’s debut in 2007, every mobile phone has really been a camera with telephone capabilities. If you haven’t noticed, with every roll out of the latest mobile phone one of the biggest features they point to is some new and improved camera system for still shots and video. The downside to everyone having a camera in their pocket is everyone thinks he or she is a professional photographer, and it often leads to a little bit of laziness when it comes to taking your own photographs. Sure, every now and then you capture that great moment with your camera phone, and with a little touching up you can even turn it in to an art-worthy piece. But when it comes to showing off who you are and what you do, it’s worth the time to get it right and not just settle for convenience.

While every hiring manager is different, when I would log on to a hiring website to go through job applicants I would see if an applicant posted a picture with their resume. If someone did post a head shot, I would look at it to see if the quality of the photo was good, and not just some bathroom mirror selfie (and yes, some people use those with their job applications). For me, this was a big indicator as to how serious someone wanted a job. If you a) posted a picture with your profile, and b) posted a picture that looked professional and made you look professional, that would at least push me to look at your resume. If you took the time to post a professional picture, it showed me you wanted this job, and I would take the time to investigate your skill set closer.

The quality pictures go beyond a profile at LinkedIn or Glassdoor or Indeed, it should be represented on anything the public sees-- and that includes your social media feeds. It should be pretty obvious now that those pictures of you doing keg stands at spring break a few years back shouldn’t be on your Twitter or Facebook timelines. But make sure whatever social media platform you use the most in your career communications (or all of your social media channels if you wish), feature professional-looking pictures of you at your best. And this also goes to any website or demo site you have showing off your work. Make sure you show off yourself equally as well, if not better!

Here are some more photo suggestions that can make a big difference quite literally in how potential employers see you:

Don’t take a picture yourself: Maybe it’s not a bathroom mirror selfie, but a selfie just doesn’t make you look good... anywhere. You can get a professional head shot done at a photo studio for a relatively low price. And look for studios running photo package deals, especially around the holidays or the start of the school year. If you have an eye on your budget, some studios (even drug stores) take simple head shots intended for use on a passport. Or better yet, see if a co-worker or friend has experience taking photos who can do a favor for you.

Make sure your photo is well-lit: That means make sure the lighting is shining on you, after all you’re the “star” of this particular photo. Make sure you’re not in a dark building, or against a back-lit background. Lighting, whether it’s natural sunlight or indoor lights, should be in front of you. Having a photo that features you in the dark just isn’t a good look.

Don’t have a boring or sloppy backdrop behind you: One of the downsides to the passport photo option is it’s often taken in front of a white wall, and that’s because it’s intended for a passport or ID card. While this option is inexpensive and good for when you’re in a pinch, it again begs you to look in to spending that extra few bucks for a studio session with a colorful background that will help your features stand out. If your photo is taken outside of a professional studio, make sure it isn’t in a dirty or cluttered room or in front of something that’s unflattering like a tent at the state fair or a run down building. Lastly, make sure there’s nothing offensive in the background.

Dress to impress: Wear formal clothes for your photos, especially if it’s a studio photo or staged shot. Men, put on a full suit and tie, and groom yourself nicely. Ladies, wear a nice dress or work outfit and style your hair and makeup as if you were going to a formal event. If a photo of you is taken “in the action” of a live broadcast or on-scene event, make sure at the very least you’re wearing a nice dress shirt or polo shirt and dress pants or khakis (ladies, a professional skirt works for you as well). No shorts, t-shirts, and definitely no hats.

Need more tips on making all parts of your career presentation look sharp? Visit SammonSez.com to see how we can help you get to the next step in your career!

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theconservativebrief · 6 years

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As I lobbed a plate against the wall, I wondered: When was the last time I broke something on purpose? There must have been some moment in childhood when I smashed something in a primal rage, but nothing came to mind. Maybe I don’t remember, but I’ve always been a rule abider, and it’s entirely possible I’d never broken anything on purpose in my life.

I was demolishing dishes at the Wrecking Club, New York City’s original rage room. A rage room, for the unfamiliar, is a place where you pay to go break stuff. It’s one part fitness phenomenon, a kind of anti-yoga, but it’s much less about working out than about the unusual experience of smashing things to smithereens.

Female rage is all the rage these days. It has launched a thousand think pieces and served as the subject of two recently released books — Rebecca Traister’s Good and Mad and Soraya Chemaly’s Rage Becomes Her — that treat the centrality of rage in the feminist movement, and mad women more generally. Anger has been a clarion call of sorts for women on the left since the 2016 election: Get mad.

The Brett Kavanaugh hearings — and perhaps especially a still photo that circulated of Kavanaugh with his mouth wide open, eyebrows furrowed, face contorted into a tableau of indignant anger — have prompted related discussions about white male rage. First: Does it exist? (Conor Friedersdorf thinks no; Paul Krugman thinks yes.) If so, what does it look like and how does it manifest? What is its relationship to “I like beer,” and what is its relationship to violence against women?

I was intrigued by rage rooms against the backdrop of these conversations about anger. Smashing stuff with baseball bats seemed more akin to what some are now calling “white male rage” than the now politically fashionable rage of liberal women (also most accessible to white women). It made me think of the (mostly male) social media stunters who filmed themselves smashing Keurig coffee makers in response to the company’s boycott of Sean Hannity, or burning their Nikes in response to the sportswear brand’s ad campaign featuring Colin Kaepernick. Physical, violent, irrational, uncontained — I was interested in what it would be like to act out those things, for a few minutes. I decided to try.

The Wrecking Club opened its doors in midtown Manhattan in 2017, and a similar space, called the Rage Cage, opened nearby in September. There are now rage rooms in Dallas, Chicago, Atlanta, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and other cities around the country. You pay a fee for a timed session, often a relatively high one; the lowest rate for 30 minutes at the Wrecking Club is $79.99 for a one- to two-person package. (Anger is lots of things, but it’s also marketable.) In exchange, you get an offering of electronics, furniture, dishes, glasses, and other household items; whacking implements including a baseball bat and a sledgehammer; and a room of one’s own.

Penelope Green of the New York Times described the aesthetic of the Wrecking Club’s rooms as “part CBGB’s basement circa 1977, part Stasi interrogation room,” which is nearly perfect. I would add that when I entered my rage room — where a printer, an ancient-looking computer monitor, and a bucket of dishes were balanced atop dented kegs, next to a battered foam model of a man’s torso — I thought immediately of a frat house.

There are a few rules: Don’t throw the kegs. Wear closed-toe shoes, goggles, gloves, long sleeves, and a helmet. Otherwise, you’re unsupervised and can do what you want.

How to begin? Tentatively, for me. I put on a Spotify playlist of female pop anthems that a friend had made post-election, titled “Nasty Women.” I selected the baseball bat and brought it down gently on the screen of the computer, which I expected to shatter. It barely registered the hit, or the next one. I decided to warm up with some glass; I have accidentally broken many glasses in my life, so I was confident I could do it. I perched a vase on top of a keg. I brought my bat down. It exploded instantly in a single incandescent burst. It was thrilling.

I began to rage in earnest, taking big swings at the printer with the bat and then the heavy sledgehammer. It felt like a psychopathic challenge — I had to be able to conquer this machine. Every splintering of plastic felt like a victory, and its innards of wiring began to spill out. When I got discouraged, I turned to the dishes. I threw them against the walls, where they broke instantly. It was hard to stop, even as I sweated and my right shoulder began to ache alarmingly. (Raging is extremely physical, and I’m not entirely convinced it’s good for the body.) Meanwhile, “There You Go” by Pink and “Not Ready to Make Nice” by the Dixie Chicks blared.

There’s a sense in which this phenomenon is totally bizarre: Why pay for a space like this when you could theoretically break whatever you want in the privacy of your own home? It feels more like you’re paying for license to go wild for a little while, outside the confines of the socially acceptable.

Nearby, the Rage Cage has a cheaper deal — $44.99 for 25 minutes — for a much smaller package of breakable goods. It has a more Instagram-oriented vibe; there’s a mount for your phone in the room that allows you to film yourself, and a spray-painted bull’s-eye on the wall. But in most respects, it’s similar: a private box for your sustained smashing, four walls and empty space, and permission to do as you please.

As I smashed, I thought of a party I’d been to during my sophomore year of college. It was hosted by a sports team dominated by Very Big Guys. It was the dead of a New England winter, and they were roasting a lamb in the backyard of a house where they lived, which people ate with their hands. There were not many girls at the party. There was an excess of beer. At some point — after hours of warming ourselves with beer as we saw our breath emerge in white puffs — boys started throwing stuff off the roof. I can’t remember what, at first, but then I looked up to see a TV hurling down. I was filled with a mixture of fear and awe at the base masculine impulse to throw something. I was that guy now, and I liked it.

The impulse to destroy objects — as the Keurig smashers and Nike burners did — always seemed inexplicable. I remember wondering: They know that their Keurig will be broken now, right, and that it’s their fault? But as I became increasingly enraged at the printer’s refusal to snap, I understood it as more of a wild release of primal energy, the inanimate object as a focal point for everything else.

The question I found myself testing, as I swung a sledgehammer into a printer: Is it good or bad that I enjoyed this? One psychologist, writing in Psychology Today, theorized: Rage Rooms Not a Good Idea. He wrote that they may fuel aggression, particularly for those with anxiety and anger issues, rather than serving as a release — and I see his point. Maybe for someone like me, whose anger feels cloudy and often inaccessible, this space was freeing, but for someone who struggles to control their anger, it could be toxic.

Perhaps — related to the political discussions about rage and who’s permitted it — the utility of rage rooms varies depending on who’s doing the raging. For many women, it’s a chance, albeit an expensive one, to play a character of sorts: the frat bro, the Keurig smasher. But for others, it might be a kind of sinking into the darkness of real rage.

The rage room is a wellness product, even if it’s aesthetically anti-wellness. Like all wellness products, it sells a kind of balm to our discontents: in this case, our rage. It solves nothing, but it may be worth the money anyway, for the sweaty, wild relief of smashing stuff.

Toward the end of my session, I ran out of dishes. I couldn’t help it: I absurdly paid $20 to add on another bucket of glass and dishes. One after another, I threw them against the dented steel walls of the room. It was incredible, sublimating my anger into fireworks of broken glass. I surveyed the wreckage at the end, sweating, in the empty room.

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Original Source -> Rage rooms are the latest self-care craze that won’t make us feel any better

via The Conservative Brief

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