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#dumpy dream is just too powerful
katrantsasoiaf · 1 year
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As someone whose Admittedly Impossible Dream Fancast for Alys was like... Eva Green, but specifically with hair and costumes roughly styled after her all-too-brief performance as Morgan in Starz's Camelot (the show itself had SO MANY flaws, but damn if I didn't completely obsess over her in that role for the one season it lasted!), THANK YOU for being so refreshingly reasonable about Gayle Rankin's casting! I don't think I've ever watched anything with, but I've heard she's a good actress and she's great with eerie, witchy roles, and personally, I think that's all that should matter.
Honestly, my only complaint is that I would have LOVED for Alys' actress to have a bigger, more visible age difference with Ewan. Not just for the obvious "Aemond likes MILFs"/"Alys is more experienced and tops him" jokes, as amusing (and inspiring if, like me, you like that sort of thing in your ships... ;)) as those can be, but also because it would have just been so nice to see a 40+ actress play a seductive, powerful character hooking up with a cool, younger male fan favorite many people (me included, lol) find hot. I get that Alys is supposed to look youthful, but depending on context, "youthful" can mean anything from "so babyfaced they keep getting mistaken for a teen well into their 30s" to "they have such an energy and such a lively, charming personality that people keep forgetting their actual age" after all...
Then again, I, too, would have also loved for older!Rhaenyra and Helaena to be played by fat people, thus putting on screen two fat female characters whose problems don't revolve around them hating their bodies, other people hating their bodies, or whether their bodies are or can be considered attractive. Still, Emma and Phia are both doing amazing jobs, and as well-cast as everyone's been until now, I don't doubt it'll be the same with Gayle and I'll be able to enjoy her performance... while waiting for industry conventions to slooowly change!
i also watched starz's camelot and had very mixed feelings about the show overall, but i adored eva green as morgan pendragon so much. so she was always who i imagined as alys when i read fire and blood. and i understood why many people felt the same way about katie mcgrath after watching her also as morgana in bbc's merlin. alys rivers just has really big morgan le fey energy, right down to her son.
i have never seen gayle rankin in anything. but she is supposedly a good actress who has played roles with witchy vibes. an pictures and edits of her with black hair as selling me on her casting more and more. i am sure she will do wonderful in the role. my biggest issue was those posts comparing pictures of gayle rankin and a fancast for alys, which was clearly posing gayle as unattractive and dumpy compared to the more conventionally attractive actress. which is just gross. it was gross when they did it to emma, and it sucks that the same cycle is repeating with gayle. they both deserved better.
i am terrified for the actress cast as nettles.
in regards to the rest of the casting, i agree with you entirely. milly, emma, and phia are great, i love both of them and none of this is a reflection of my feelings about them as actors. but rhaenyra and helaena are the only targaryen women who are explicitly described as bigger than a pencil. grrm specified that rhaenyra was "pudgy" as a girl and "stout" as a woman due to her multiple pregnancies, but she is still considered desirable. helaena is similarly described as "plump", but is adored. their canonical descriptions being ignored by both the showrunners and fans is disappointing, but not surprising.
i have strong feelings about some of the casting, but i still found it to be one of the shows greatest strengths. and i have no doubt that these newest additions will continue to elevate the show (the only one i actually recognize was freddie fox as gwayne hightower, he was the king of sweden in hulu's the great and i am excited for him).
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nikolajsenfeldman50 · 4 months
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Limo Fundamentals Explained
Besides for their interiors and lack of business markings, they have been just about an identical to the taxis that prowled the streets of almost every American city. If Checker taxis might hold up under the rigors of day-and-evening operation, consumers reasoned, surely their non-industrial counterparts would also experience spectacular longevity. Morris Markin, Checker's founder and president, was steadfast: There'd be no change to this dumpy but practical design so lengthy as there have been buyers for dependable, durable, "taxi-robust" automobiles. Most likely the most vital change was a switch from Continental to Chevrolet engines for 1965. The preliminary listing included a 230-cid six (140 bhp), a 283-cid V-8 (195 bhp) for $a hundred and ten extra, and 327 V-eight (250 bhp). Spark plugs are found in gasoline engines and glow plugs in diesel engines. In actual fact, a quarter of all the world's automobiles are found in the United States. Up till that point, Japanese automobiles obtainable in the United States have been all imports. William C. Durant had in depth data of auto manufacturing within the United States having experience with Buick and having started General Motors. After leaving his job working for Thomas Edison, Henry Ford began the Detroit Automobile Company in 1899. He dissolved it in 1901 after the automobiles produced were too costly.
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The Home of Mouse began with one man and a dream, and now Disney dominates the global theme park market. Ephesians is one of the new Testament books. The world of the automobile is an enchanting one. This is the very best-promoting electric car on the planet. An all-electric automobile, the Nissan Leaf went into production in 2010. In fact, perhaps crucial thing with such a car is the vary. Checker production slumped within the 1970s when Morris Markin died and his son David took over. Go to rose limousine service to find out concerning the styling of the 1960, 1961, 1962, 1963, 1964, 1965, 1966, 1967, 1968, 1969 Checker. For 1960, 1961, 1962, 1963, 1964, 1965, 1966, 1967, 1968, 1969 Checker specs, proceed on to the next page. A Marathon Deluxe sedan came in 1966, as well as a decrease-priced ($4,541) limousine. True. The Toyota Corolla, introduced in 1966, has offered over forty million models worldwide since then. September 2004, the Murano was launched in Japan, replacing the Bassara MPV and exclusive to Nissan Crimson Stage places, with an extra introduction at Nissan Blue Stage places in October, changing the Terrano. True. As with many different machines together with gliders and tanks, Da Vinci drew up plans for a automobile in around 1478. In 2004, a replica was made in Italy.
Checker prospects had a rising possibility listing, including air conditioning, power steering, and an automated transmission. Either an computerized transmission or overdrive was out there, at $248 and $108 (respectively). Perkins diesel energy additionally was available, at a watch-opening $1,279. Time-delayed braking programs, on the other hand, let you set a certain amount of power to ship to your tow automobile after a pre-determined period of time. When a automobile slows down and stops, sensors position the engine's pistons in particular locations within each of the cylinders. They helped Jackie again into the convertible when John F. Kennedy was shot in 1963. They wrapped up presidential candidate Donald Trump and rushed him off the stage when someone shouted "gun" at a rally in 2016. They're there, on Inauguration Day, offering a human shield as the president nearly invariably takes a stroll down Pennsylvania Avenue. Some 1,650 Secret Service employees are Uniformed Division officers whose obligation is to securely lock down the venues, wherever they could be, where the president and other officials appear.
This verse is about the division of land to the east of the River Jordan. It's around 80% in reality. Maybe more importantly, a flat battery will be charged to 80% within a mere 30 minutes. The Murano Hybrid features an electric motor, a 2.5-liter four cylinder engine, Intelligent Twin Clutch System, and a lithium-ion battery that is positioned beneath the middle console. The best technique to sum up being a Secret Service agent," former agent Johnathan Wackrow, who spent 14 years with the Service, more than 4 of them on protecting element of then-President Barack Obama, advised Vanity Truthful, "is prolonged periods of boredom only damaged up by moments of sheer terror. Lt. Christopher Fagan advised a bunch of Secret Service rookies in a Business Insider video. The U.S. Secret Service, much like different regulation enforcement businesses, has a uniform standard of dress to which workers are held.
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fairrryprose · 2 years
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[BOOK TOUR] SHADOW MATE (SHADOW WOLVES #1) // ALEXIS CALDER (*w/ INTNL GIVEAWAY*)
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I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the SHADOW MATE by Alexis Calder Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
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About the book:
Title: SHADOW MATE (Shadow Wolves #1)
Author: Alexis Calder
Pub. Date: September 20, 2022
Publisher: Alexis Calder
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 214
Find it: Goodreads, Amazon
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My review:
4/5 stars
A fast, interesting shifter romance read with a dual POV (always a treat in a romance!); definitely a good time for those who enjoy shifter stories.
I liked the characters; we have a spunky protagonist in Morgan, and other feisty females, and a kind and gentle alpha in Luke. Morgan has a fun personality (despite having been mistreated by everyone around her her whole life - "regret and daddy issues"🤧😳), and has a façade of badassery (which she is; a girl does not go down without a fight, and she is soo resilient) yet is soft and sensitive inside; meanwhile, Luke (who is definitely swoon-worthy) is like the reverse of her - a gentle giant type, with coiled power rippling under the surface, commanding awe and respect for his warm heart and powerful might and leadership both.
The writing is quippy and made me chuckle at times. I also liked the fast pace and quick action, though I did feel at times that it went a bit too blindingly fast; I would have liked more scenes with Luke and Morgan alone to develop their budding romance, and certain scenes that were meant to be emotionally-charged felt impersonal because of how frenzied the pace is.
It also felt kinda info-dumpy at the beginning, but it did help to quickly establish rules and the world so we could dive quickly and with full comprehension into the action - pack secrets, mysterious deaths, powerful magic and threats.
It'd leave you eagerly anticipating the sequel to see just how they navigate all the revelations and threats going forward!
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About the author:
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Alexis Calder writes sassy heroines and sexy heroes with a sprinkle of sarcasm. She lives in the Rockies and drinks far too much coffee and just the right amount of wine.
Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Amazon | BookBub
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**GIVEAWAY**
1 Winner will receive a $10 Amazon GC, International.
Ends October 4th, midnight EST.
Enter here⤵️
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Check out other stops on the tour to read an excerpt of the book and other reviews!⤵️
Tour Schedule:
Week One:
@allyluvsbooksalatte
A Dream Within A Dream
Sadie's Spotlight
BookHounds
The Reading Devil
Lady Hawkeye
fairrryprose
Epic Book Society
hauntedbybooks
Book Sniffers Anonymous
Week Two:
Wanderingwitchreads
Book Reviews by Taylor
@jacleomik33
#BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee Blog
Nagma | TakeALookAtMyBookshelf
More Books Please blog
The Momma Spot
GryffindorBookishNerd
Books With A Chance of Traveling
bookbriefs
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tabitha2 · 2 years
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Slowly imagine it as your name, and feel it
All i am all i am meant to be as God made me
Feel its truth, feel it in you. You are Maria.
Yo soy Maria. Yo soy una mujer. Yo soy ella.
All your life you wanted to be pretty & faithful
It is my dream to look like that. Be like this.
all your life being sexy teasing Cock everywhere
I dream of going to sleep & waking up as her forever— as the woman I am supposed to be
just a simple village girl who is not complicated
sweet docile submissive feminine kind loving
never complaining just accepting what you are
devout devoted hard-working believing big-assed
Wide-hipped hotel maid. Papi love these hips. This hotel maid girl is so sexy to Him.
I have such a large butt, and it’s en fuego por tu
You will never be gorgeous but you can be sexy
I crave u i crave all of u i will give u what u want
You will always be plain and dumpy but He loves you that way fat sloppy huge ass natural tits in girdles and controltop pantyhose and low heels and that cheap polyester hotel maid uniform dress ay si’
I will be a good girl it is what i want too i know it
You are not stupid really but you are simple
Only knowing this now, as I always have always will forever. Forgetful and forgetting i thought i thought anything else but what you say and i need you to guide me because i am lost without you, Sir. I need you in my life to follow, obey…
And it’s ok. You can let others lead you where you need to go. Where you are meant to be.
my fat sloppy tits one day to be baby-chewed when You make me a mother.
Men taking advantage of your Daddy issues.
(heavy sloppy saggy real boobs that beg a gringo’s attention) (not a porn star a real girl as I was born in that typical village in El Salvador) (You in Your power could have made me a sex star but in Your wisdom you made me accessible instead— easy and open and ready and eager)
And you love to be the good daughter you have always been in your heart of hearts, with a smile for Him, smiling always, with a smile for all Men !
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gogogyarchive · 3 years
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obsessed with the dumpy dream mousepad being displayed in my top 3 posts meant to depict my blog
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Dream SMP Recap (April 25/2021) - The Red Banquet
The day has finally come.
All the preparations have been completed. The invitations have been sent out. Everything has been leading up to this moment, and the Eggpire is ready to make their move.
It’s time for the Red Banquet.
A brief summary of the week’s total events can be found at the end of the post.
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VOD LINKS:
Captain Puffy
Badboyhalo
Antfrost
Eret
Skeppy
Ranboo
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- Puffy walks around on the surface. Everything is prepared, the armor is where it should be. She hopes everything will go well.
- Everyone is dressed up for the occasion (except George). Hannah, Niki, Fundy, Eret, George and HBomb are all there.
- Bad says hello to Ponk in the Egg Room. Ponk tells him that no one has arrived yet. Antfrost greets them by the entrance and they go up the stairs to find Niki waiting. 
- Puffy and the other guests soon enter the room as well. Antfrost points them towards a coat room where they can put all their items. Foolish arrives with the Rolexes. They drink some cider, head to the dance floor and play some tunes.
- Bad comes over and greets Puffy. Foolish informs Bad that he peed on the Egg. Sam also has a dumpy and HBomb has two of Fundy’s cocks. 
- Antfrost goes off to speak with Ponk alone and check for some last guests. They watch as George arrives.
Ant: “He looks sort of lost, but that’s okay -- we welcome everybody here.”
Ponk: “Hold up...I don’t know...hmm. Hmm...”
Ant: “I mean, he looks harmless enough.”
Ponk: “We need to get a real good look at him first. Quickly.”
Ponk: “I don’t know what that’s about.”
Ant: “I don’t know. Well, we’ll just keep an eye on him.”
Ponk: “Yeah...”
- They then go speak to HBomb and Niki. H hasn’t stopped dancing
HBomb: “I’m doing my best impersonation of a white dad.”
...
Ant: “Did you guys notice that the guy over there -- George -- just sort of wandered in? He seems sort of lost.”
Ponk: “I feel like he’s hiding something.”
- From the walls, Ranboo in a shadowy outfit can be seen watching. 
- HBomb is the DJ.
- Bad comes over to say that dinner is ready. Bad tells Puffy that they have shrimp cocktails and they all go to sit at the table. Some people are in jail and weren’t able to attend. Ponk cooked all the food.
- Bad welcomes the guests to give toasts to the meal.
First up is Foolish, who says that he hopes that after today, nobody has to say “turn a new leaf” or “let bygones be bygones” ever again. Everyone has come here in agreement in the hope of something new.
Next is Eret. 
Eret: “As the monarch of the SMP, it’s awesome to be able to maybe see the SMP going back to being reunified again, and seeing all of us not have to worry about fighting each other on different sides. I hope this is a new chapter of the entire community as a whole. Cheers to that.”
Then Ponk steps up. Long ago, an old, wise man told him “People change like the tides in the ocean.” Now he truly knows they do.
Puffy steps forward. Bad and Antfrost, she considers as friends, and the Egg has separated them. She hopes this brings them all together and makes the server more peaceful. 
George was asleep twenty minutes ago. He asks about the soup. Ponk says it’s made from organic, free-range beets.
Finally, Bad says he appreciates everyone coming. This is the perfect opportunity for everyone to come together and let bygones be bygones. To set aside past issues to grow and advance forward, even with the wrongs that have been done. 
- He nods to Antfrost, who breaks a block behind them, revealing a button. Antfrost presses it.
Bad: “I was very, very happy that we were able to gather everybody here together for what is, I’m sure, going to be a banquet that none of us are ever going...to...forget.”
- Lava starts pouring down from the ceiling, walling them in.
Bad: “Yep. Prepare to die.”
- Everyone panics. 
- Puffy tells Bad that she didn’t trust the Eggpire anyway, and planned for this. She removes the cover from the table and looks into the chest -- it’s empty.
- They watch as the Eggpire members all don the diamond armor that Puffy and Sam had prepared. Hannah says she had to do it, had to tell them. For the Egg.
- Sam says that he had another plan, because he didn’t trust the Eggpire. He’s tired of all this fighting, and it’s about time that they blow up the Egg for good this time.
- Sam flicks the TNT lever and the explosives rain down on the Egg. When they explode, though, the Egg turns into crying obsidian instead of getting destroyed, reverting back to normal Egg blocks after a few seconds.
- After Quackity’s attack, Bad and the others took preparations to make sure that the Egg wouldn’t be vulnerable to TNT anymore. Now, it’s time for the executions.
Bad: “You see, the Egg needs something, and it’s gonna get it from each of you. See, in order for the Egg to hatch, it needs energy. And it gets that energy by people dying near it. And that’s the role that you guys are gonna fill! We’re gonna kill you, one by one--”
Eret: “You’re a monster.”
Bad: “What’d you say, Eret?”
Eret: “You’re an absolute monster. How could you. We all trusted you, Bad!”
Ponk: “Trust! Okay, Eret. Keep talking. Keep talking about trust.”
Eret: “...That was a long time ago.”
- Bad says that Eret is the perfect person to sacrifice first! He leads Eret to a spot in front of the Egg lined with Netherite blocks.
- Foolish steps forward, saying he’s had enough. The Egg can shield itself against TNT, but can it withstand lightning?
- Nothing happens. Bad laughs.
Bad: “You really thought, Foolish? You thought you could enter the Egg’s domain and beat it in a battle of power? Come on...you’re in the Egg’s territory, Foolish.”
- The Egg is suppressing Foolish. Ant suggests they start with Foolish instead and take Eret’s life later.
- Puffy steps forward. She and Antfrost shout at each other. Puffy says she gave them chance after chance. Antfrost says that Puffy betrayed them first.
Ant: “Foolish, your own son, is about to be slaughtered because of you!”
Puffy: “I’m only one person!”
Foolish: “Puffy, Puffy, it’s okay, it’s not your fault--”
Puffy: “NO! It’s not alright!”
Ant: “Puffy, you could have stopped this if you had stayed with the Eggpire. But this is your fault.”
- Antfrost kills Foolish with a sword.
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CANON DEATH: FOOLISH
Cause: Sacrificed by Antfrost to the Egg
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- Everyone screams in horror. The Eggpire wonders who to kill next.
- Suddenly, Quackity shouts at them to stop and drops into the room. He tells Bad to calm down. He puts on diamond armor.
- Quackity tells them they’ve just killed a man, asking if this is what they wanted. Bad tells him that he’s doing all this for the Egg, for what the Egg can give them.
Quackity: “I’m telling you, Bad, you’re a pawn to power. You’re nobody, Bad. You’re working for something that, quite frankly, doesn’t even care about you. I mean look at the Egg, look at the Egg! Look at what it means! It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything, Bad. So how about...how about we just stop playing games.”
- As Quackity monologues, he subtly slips Puffy a Netherite axe, potion of strength and a golden apple.
- Bad can’t stop, or else he can’t get what he needs. 
Bad: “Guess what, Quackity. If you wanted to stop us, you should’ve brought more than just yourself. You should’ve brought an army.”
Quackity: “Guess what, Bad? I did! I did. In fact, I brought the next best thing...I brought my biggest enemy!”
- Technoblade logs on and drops into the room, his hoard of dogs following.
- Not only that...Quackity also went looking across the lands for the best mercenary he could find. Purpled drops into the room as well.
Bad: “We HIRED you to take out Puffy, and you join the enemy’s side?!”
Purpled: “Bad, to be frank with you, Quackity just had the better price.”
- Techno explains that he didn’t want to work with Quackity, but the Egg is too great a danger to the server and it’s against everything he stands for.
- Suddenly, Puffy jumps forward with her axe, attacking Ant. The Eggpire is shocked that she has a weapon.
Puffy: “You’ve taken my kindness for weakness, Antfrost!”
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CANON DEATH: ANTFROST
Cause: Killed by Puffy with an axe
---
- A fight breaks out. Bad shouts for the remaining Eggpire members to retreat. They run out. Quackity orders Purpled to go track them down.
- Bad leads the Eggpire out. They can regroup later. For now, they have to run. They have to split up. They can’t get caught, they have to stay safe and go as fast as they can.
- Alone, Bad thinks to himself.
Bad: “This is such a trainwreck. This whole plan...everything was for this moment! And it’s gone! They -- they have the Egg now...they have it. What can I do? I can’t do anything! I need to get out of here. I need resources...”
“Wait, I know where I can go. I know who I can see...but the Egg, the Egg is -- it’s in their possession right now. What can I do? What can I do against it? I can’t do anything, they have it! I needed the Egg, I needed...I needed what it was gonna give. It was gonna help me get what I wanted, but now they have it...they have it...I just...I just wanted what...I just wanted what it could give me.”
“I didn’t really -- I didn’t really want to hurt anybody. I just wanted what it could give me, but...I don’t know. Did I screw up? Am I in the wrong here? I don’t know...I just need to go. I need to get out of here.”
- Bad starts rowing away into the ocean.
- Quackity asks Sam what to do next. The Egg is invincible.
- Purpled lost them in the labyrinth. Sam says he’ll build a prison for the Egg if he has to. He wants to find a way to destroy it, but for now they need to lock it away where it can’t be accessed.
- Quackity makes sure everyone is alright. They then exit the room through the whole in the wall. Quackity tells Techno to come with him and Sam to talk. They leave the others to escape the rest of the way.
- They make it to the surface, relieved. HBomb hands them all soup to remember the event by.
- Puffy goes off on her own down the Prime Path. While she talks to herself, Ranboo walks down the path with potion particles coming off of him.
Puffy: “What did I do? What -- I...My son died! And I killed my best friend! I...I need to find Foolish. I...I don’t even know who I am anymore. The life I swore to protect, I didn’t at all, and then I took one myself! I don’t even...I...I can’t do this anymore. I just...can’t.”
- Eret mourns Foolish after the events of the Banquet. Foolish sacrificed his life for Eret, so at the very least he should be commemorated.
Eret: “I don’t even feel like I knew him that well...which makes things even harder. He’s helped me out with so many things, just from the kindness of his heart. He claimed to know me. He claimed to know a me which I don’t even remember... And he sacrificed himself for me.”
“At the very least, I need to commemorate his sacrifice, I...I should’ve been the one to die, not him.”
- Eret builds a Totem statue in his fortress. 
RIP Foolish I’ll miss you, old friend.
- Eret builds a replica of the Egg in their museum.
- Ranboo logs on in his house. He decides to go around the main area today and fix some stuff. His inventory is quite empty, so he grabs stacks of grass blocks from a chest and heads out.
- He heads over to the main area and remarks that the server is beginning to look okay now that the Blood Vines are gone.
- He notices some posters for the Red Banquet.
Ranboo: “Oh, that was today! ...Cool!”
- He carries on and runs into Sam near the Community House. They exchange some steak. Sam says he’s collecting materials for the bank, as people need it now more than ever. 
- Sam suggests Ranboo invest money and charge cash for his hotel. Ranboo points out that they already have currency in the form of emeralds and diamonds. Sam explains his waiver idea for the bank.
- Also, Sam needs to build a vault. People can come and rent a spot to lock away important items. 
- Ranboo asks if you can lock away people in the vault. Sam says that’s what Pandora’s Vault is for already.
- Sam mentions that they’ll put the Egg in there. Ranboo asks what makes this different from regular storage. Sam says it’s more secure.
- Sam and his associates will be there day and night to actively defend everyone’s belongings. Ranboo asks how many guards Sam has under his command. Sam says quite a few.
- Why now? Sam says there’s no time like right now and quotes Oogway.
- Sam doesn’t plan on charging interest. He just wants to establish a better system of trade on the server.
- Ranboo explains to chat that he can use this system to make infinite money by trading emeralds and diamond armor.
- What if someone is, say, already quite rich on the server? Sam says the trade and the guard of supplies is most important. 
- Ranboo asks how fragile the system would be. What would it take to bring it down?
- Sam says a whole nuke. Ranboo replies that he was thinking systematically. He asks how the Great Depression happened and Sam explains inflation and the circumstances for economic crises. 
- Sam gives Ranboo a “prototype Sam dollar.” (One iron ingot)
- They go to Hannah’s house to steal and then find an anvil in the spider spawner to name the ingot “Smollar.” They go down the tunnel and Sam says that Ranboo shouldn’t go down to the Egg Room. It’s under quarantine.
- He’s planning on moving the Egg and asks if Ranboo heard what happened. Ranboo didn’t. Sam fills him in in the Egg Room. Ranboo is curious about the Egg turning into obsidian and picks up a piece of the Blood Vines, suggesting Sam do some experiments.
- They exit the Egg Room and find some strange llamas. Ranboo shoves a chest in Drip Llama.
- Ranboo, Sam, and Foolish breed a ton of llamas to begin the Industrial Revolution.
- Bad comes over and becomes one with the llamas to cope. Foolish turns into a L’manburg Llama and is promptly slaughtered by Ranboo.
- Ranboo, Bad and Foolish create a gigantic llama train.
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Upcoming Events:
- Quackity’s business opening
- Tommy’s plan
- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”
- Dream’s lore video
- The Banquet aftermath
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END OF WEEK RECAP:
4/19 - Nothing much happens.
4/20 - Nothing much happens.
4/21 - HBomb makes a diamond game, Jack plans to open a pub sidechain for his hotel business
4/22 - Tubbo shows Tommy how to make TNT cannons
4/23 - Puffy, Foolish, Hannah and Sam meet on Cloud Prime to discuss the Banquet, Ranboo’s Enderwalk Saga: “The Lessons”
4/24 - HBomb’s diamond game, George’s anniversary dream, Bad hands out invitations
4/25 - THE RED BANQUET.
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peachpeachplumb · 3 years
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Fat Parade Chapter 5
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“Ebony! Cookies are done!”
And so, the destruction of Ebony Style’s once-slender figure continued. After a week of living with her ex-bandmate Willow the flabby fallen idol had learned there was no refusing food in the dumpy drummer’s presence. Ebony never stopped her trying, however. With so much damage already dealt, the dream of denial was all she had left to take solace in.
“I'm really not—”
Of course Willow would interrupt.
“Please, Ebony,” she whispered hurriedly, “I'm trying to take care of you.”
“I don't need anyone's help."
“That's not what you said last week.”
“Don't need it, don't deserve it, same difference.”
“Fuck...” Willow sat down on the bed beside her best friend, their plush hips pressing close together. “I swear to god,” she muttered, “even when we were teens things were never this bad.”
With a sigh, Ebony shut her eyes and slumped backwards, her lardy belly liquidly lingering some distance behind her back, before collapsing atop her with a squishy slap.
“What good does pointing that out help?”
“You're right, I'm sorry. What I'm trying to say is that you're in a bad place and I'm gonna do all I can to help. I just… I struggle to know how to talk about this stuff.”
“We never really took the time to learn, did we? Just moaned sweet miseries through a microphone.”
“Only you and Raven ever moaned.”
Ebony’s eyes bulged open as her head jerked upwards, a sizable pocket of pudge folding over beneath her chin.
“You never felt like a third wheel, did you?” she asked. “Because you're no Novoselic, you know that, right?”
“No, I know,” Willow replied, “I'm just saying that I had... a distance... you never did. So I don't know how to make all this go away.” She smiled. “But I know how to make cookies!”
Ebony’s head fell backwards once again, propelled by a violent huff.
“Willow, do I look like I need more cookies?”
Suddenly, the dumpy drummer dove sideways with a twist, and Ebony found herself staring into sharp amber eyes.
“Don't you dare mention your weight,” Willow snarled.
“What? Willow, what did I—”
“Right now, your weight is just another justification you have to hate yourself, and I'm not gonna let you use it. I know it's hard, but try to ignore it. Acknowledge it, and move on.”
“I'm ten-ton Tara again—”
“No, you're Ebony. Just bigger. Still Ebony.”
“You know I'll never sing again.”
“Mike Posner had a hit this year,” Willow smirked, "never say never. I know you don't feel up to it right now but that’s why you gotta forget your weight.” Her voice turned harsher still, so much so that Ebony felt forced to flinch. “You can't let it stop you taking care of yourself. Period.”
“I—”
Now it was Willow’s turn to go limp, slumping beside her ex-bandmate on the bed.
“I can't let it stop you taking care of yourself, okay? I'm scared, Ebony. I'm scared.” She smiled, trembling. “Besides, you won't gain too much, your metabolism will have evened out after all these years.”
“How would you know?
“Uh uh uh,” Willow replied, teasingly, “a girl’s gotta stay mysterious. Perhaps I really am a witch?”
“Naw,” Ebony chuckled, “you’re way more vampire than witch. Me, I’m the hag.”
“You’re—”
“Don’t tell me I’m beautiful, I want to slash Beautiful’s throat.”
“I wasn’t going to. Nothing needs adjectives any more. Nothing deserves them. They’ve been taken from us.”
“And now you sound like me.”
“Was I ever anything without you?”
“None of us mattered without each other.”
“Except Raven, apparently.”
“Then only you and I matter. At least for now.”
“I don’t know if that should be true.”
“Neither do I. But I want it to be—"
“And so do I, but it’s wrong—"
“It’d be a mistake—"
“And yet—”
Suddenly, Willow became aware her palm was pressed against some cool, squishy surface, and Ebony felt a warm, gentle grip against her stomach. With Willow so drawn to the doughiness and Ebony so soothed by the drummer's firm hands, neither could bring themselves to break contact, and soon the pair found themselves tied together in a blissful entropy. Tentatively, Willow pulled herself in nearer and kissed Ebony on the lips.
Ebony hadn’t had sex for five years, and it’d been even longer since she’d enjoyed it. She always imagined her newfound flab would prove an impediment to her pleasure on those rare occasions she was able to imagine anyone sleeping with her to begin with, but with Willow’s skilled touch every inch of fat seemed to course with a raw, decadent energy, like molten chocolate, coursing with energy as it oozed through Willow’s fingers. And her breasts… Ebony’s breasts had always been big, but now they dwarfed themselves at their most famous, swollen with some visceral power at last free by Willow’s tender kneading. Within her caress Ebony could almost imagine herself even larger, bloated not with blubber but a bestial strength. It felt so good to be sturdy once more, to not have the shadow of Ten-Ton Tara slumped atop her… Ebony needed more. She craved it, consequences be damned, craved hell itself in all its infernal force...
And so, Willow willing, the pair plunged deeper down, and the scenario went from regrettable to detestable.
“Yeah,” Ebony panted, exhausted, “that was definitely a mistake.”
“Amen,” Willow replied, sighing.
“But fucking hell did I enjoy it.”
Willow smirked.
“And what could be more emo than that?”
“So that’s all the scene is now?” Ebony asked. “An excuse to fuck ourselves over?”
“Sure,” said Willow, “since the man won’t let us. We’ll fuck everything up and over, and look fabulous doing it.”
“God, I’ve missed you.”
“Wanna make another mistake?”
In answer, Ebony pulled Willow in close, and sent herself spiralling once again into the squishiness of the swirling void.
Another instalment of the collab with @justanotherworthlessweirdo !
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stufftippywrote · 3 years
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infinities within infinities
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"Don't get me wrong," Xie Lian says, "I'm really grateful for the donation, but I don't think it's right to name the library after me."
But the man in the three-piece suit seems insistent. "You're a groundbreaking force in the world of philosophy," he says ardently. "I've read your Man, Thrice Ascended at least ten times. What you have to say about the concept of self as the infinite is revolutionary." He grins. The leather of the eyepatch over his right eye gleams in the sunlight. "The least you deserve is to have libraries named after you."
Xie Lian looks him over. This Hua Cheng is known as a reclusive billionaire, but there’s nothing withdrawn about him now, as he surveys Xie Lian with a bright eye. Instead, he’s almost preternaturally relaxed, hands in his pockets, smiling as bright as if he’d captured the sun. Despite the money and the insistent words, there’s nothing intimidating about him.. Xie Lian rather likes him.
“Well, thank you, I suppose, Mr. Hua,” he says carefully. He still isn’t sure about the Xie Philosophy Library concept. He looks up at the building and tries to imagine his name on the placard; it just seems preposterous. The dreams of a very young graduate student who thought he could change the whole nature of philosophy. Now, a fool’s wish. That it would be granted so suddenly, and by the young man in front of him who can’t be out of his twenties? Unimaginable.
“No need to thank me,” Hua Cheng says, shaking his head. “The very least I could do. Do you need a ride anywhere, Professor?”
**
Hua Cheng’s car might as well be a spaceship for how much it sticks out among the dumpy minivans and compact cars that surround it in the parking lot. Black, sleek, and gleaming, it truly seems to have beamed here from some point in a glittering future. Hua Cheng unlocks it with the touch of a button, and then, with another, the passenger side door swings open of its own volition. Xie Lian peeks inside. The interior is black as well, but for some touches that stand out in burning crimson.
“Go on, Professor.” Hua Cheng is leaning on his side of the car, casting a sideways glance at him. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Xie Lian obeys, ducking his head to get in. “You really needn’t call me Professor,” he says as Hua Cheng joins him on the driver’s side.
“What should I call you, then?” Hua Cheng’s smile is devastatingly brilliant, and Xie Lian is glad he’s sitting, because his knees have just gone to jelly. “I could call you gege, if it’s not too informal.”
He’s teasing -- at least, Xie Lian thinks he’s teasing -- but honestly the word comes out of his mouth more naturally than professor, and Xie Lian likes the sound of it better. “Gege is fine,” he says lightly.
“But in return,” Hua Cheng says, starting up the car, “you have to call me San Lang.”
“Why?” There’s something buzzing in Xie Lian’s brain now about the concept of naming, what we call ourselves versus what others call us, but he shunts it aside.
“Why do you think?” The car pulls out of its space, and a low rumble echoes in Xie Lian’s gut as it starts to navigate the parking lot. Hua Cheng is glancing at him between peeks in the rearview mirror. “You know what they say about us billionaires, we’re eccentric. Humor me.”
“Very well, San Lang,” Xie Lian replies, and he likes the sound of that, too.
It’s ten minutes of buzzing around the downtown streets before Xie Lian realizes he never gave a destination. “San Lang,” he says carefully, “where are we going?”
“Here and there,” Hua Cheng says. “I want to pick your brain about Man, Thrice Ascended.”
“Oh.” Xie Lian is flattered, and honestly the concept of riding around aimlessly in this sleek machine appeals to him. “Go right ahead, then.”
“To tell you the truth,” Hua Cheng says, “I have trouble wrapping my head around the concept of the self as infinite. Unless you believe in a higher power, the concept of self seems painfully finite to me, as it only exists between birth and death. Isn’t that a pretty limited span?”
“Only temporally,” Xie Lian replies. “Did you know that there are 22 million seconds in the average lifetime?”
“22 million is a lot, but it’s not infinity,” Hua Cheng counters.
“Ah, but a second isn’t instantaneous. Seconds take time. If you’ve ever tried to hold a plank for more than a minute, you know that well.” And he really does look like the type who could hold it. If not for two. “The unit of time I’d rather use is the moment.”
Hua Cheng glances at him. The car pulls onto the highway. “The moment?” he asks, gently spurring Xie Lian forward.
“Exactly,” Xie Lian says. “The moment is instantaneous. Maybe there are hundreds of millions of moments in the span of a single second of time. Maybe more than that. We can conceptualize, then, that each second of a lifetime contains within it infinite moments, and each lifetime 22 million infinities.”
“But a moment is hardly an appreciable measure of time,” Hua Cheng says. “How many moments can we experience as moments with our limited consciousness? The moments experienced are still finite to the mind of the human who tries to count them. Even if you count as fast as you can, you can’t count to 100 within the space of a single second, much less infinity.”
“You’re asking good questions,” Xie Lian comments.
Hua Cheng glows a little. “I told you, I’ve read the book a thousand times.”
“Well, if you did read the book, then you know that our concept of moments here is merely a framework.” They’re driving along the coast now, the bay blue and the sun starting its daily fizzle from yellow to red. “The infinities that truly populate the self are not of time, but of possibility.”
“Infinite choice in each moment.” Hua Cheng nods. “Explain it to me one more time, please, won’t you, gege?”
There’s a little plaintive moan in his voice - just a sliver of an entreaty - and it gives Xie Lian the goosebumps. Here is someone who’s truly appreciating his work, and he’s pleasant to look at and his voice is pleasant to the ear, and Xie Lian is reeling with how much good sensation is rolling into him with every second of this drive. It’s like the best of good dreams, and he doesn’t want to think of it ending.
“In any moment -- and I do mean moment, with our earlier definition,” he says, “I could lean to the left. I could lean to the right. I could blink. I could lean to the left but just a little bit harder. I could think of the color red. I could think of the color blue. I could speak. I could stay silent. I could open the door and throw myself out of this car, if I wanted.”
“Please don’t,” Hua Cheng interjects, sounding a little unnerved.
“It’s just a possibility,” Xie Lian reminds him. “There are, essentially, an infinite number of things I could do with each moment of my life. Each of them takes some time, but the process of choosing is instantaneous. So you have infinite possibilities in every single moment of infinite moments.”
“Not infinite possibilities," counters Hua Cheng. "What you decide to do in one moment, as you said, takes time. The time it takes to perform that action necessarily negates the infinite nature of the next moment. You can’t make certain decisions while performing other actions.”
“Your possibilities are still infinite in each moment,” Xie Lian argues. “Just because some actions can’t be taken doesn’t mean there aren’t still infinite possibilities open to you. Think of numbers. An infinite number of numbers end in the digit 4. It’s still an infinite set, even though numbers that end in the digit 5 aren’t included.”
Hua Cheng frowns. “Perhaps my limited mind isn’t fully able to capture it,” he says after a time. “You’re very impressive, gege.”
Heat blooms in Xie Lian’s cheeks. “Thus,” he says, “we have the three ascensions. When the mind is able to grasp the concept of infinity within limited time, it ascends once. The second ascension comes when one accepts that infinite actions can be performed within that limited time. And the third ascension…”
“...is when the mind grasps that the possibilities are infinite for each of an infinite number of moments,” Hua Cheng fills in. “Infinities within infinities, all within the self.”
They’ve pulled off to a scenic outlook point on the bay. Hua Cheng eases the car into one of three parking spots and turns off the engine. He turns to Xie Lian. “Gege always explains it so well,” he says brightly. “Thank you for indulging me.”
Xie Lian can feel the flush creeping into his cheeks. He looks away. “You’re welcome.”
Another beep, and the car’s doors are opening again. Hua Cheng gets up, rounds the car to Xie Lian’s side, and holds out his hand.
They stand for a time side by side, watching the reddening sun dip its toes into the rippling water of the bay. There’s a strange peace to standing here, Xie Lian thinks, with this person he barely knows but is so ardent about his work. I’m safe. I’m appreciated. The sureness of that is unexpected but so, so welcome. Xie Lian thinks back, trying to remember the last time he felt that way. He can’t recall.
“It’s beautiful,” he murmurs. Cars thunder past on the road behind them.
“This is one of my favorite spots,” Hua Cheng says. “I’m always taken by the vastness of the ocean here. It seems so full.” He gestures down to where the water buffets the base of the cliffs below them. “Like it’s a moment from overflowing.”
Xie Lian ponders this. “I’ve never thought of the ocean as full or not,” he says. “The implication being that no more water can be added; that it’s complete as is, existing within its bounds.”
“It’s a philosophical puzzle, isn’t it?” says Hua Cheng lightly. “Of course, climate change is solving it as we speak. Rising sea levels and all. It seems the ocean has the potential to be boundless, even as we denote lines between sea and shore.”
“And the question then becomes, how accurately can we draw those lines? And is it human folly to even attempt to do so?”
“Of course,” Hua Cheng says, “none of these problems has practical application.”
Xie Lian laughs. “Most of philosophy has no practical application. That’s why it’s philosophy.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Hua Cheng replies. “Your philosophy has had effects on my psychology, at the very least. To think of myself as infinite has changed the way I look at the world.”
“And how does it look?” Xie Lian inquires, tilting his head.
Hua Cheng gazes at him, then turns back to face the sea. “Boundless,” he says.
Xie Lian nods. The wind whips past them, whispering coldly against his cheeks and ears. He shudders.
Without a word, Hua Cheng removes his long coat and drapes it over Xie Lian’s shoulders. The coat is warm with his body heat, and all that heat seeps into Xie Lian in a rush. He draws in a breath. When Hua Cheng’s fingers touch his neck to adjust the collar, he wants to shiver again, this time not from the cold.
“Gege.” Hua Cheng’s honey-rich, low voice touches his ear like the strains of a cello. “Would you let me take you someplace nice?”
Xie Lian looks out at the darkening bay. He thinks of the view from his office window, the wall of an adjoining brick building. He could go back there, write and read until the early morning hours. Perhaps he would sleep on the cot he’s laid out in there. Staring at the mottled ceiling, contemplating eternity.
Or he could go with Hua Cheng, who is holding out his hand, looking hopeful.
Xie Lian takes it.
They drive for another 10 minutes along the coast, then take an exit into an area filled with green fields. Huge houses dot the landscape -- this is the domain of the super-rich, Xie Lian thinks, because these fields aren’t used for farming. They’re simply green as far as the eye can see, well-manicured, sometimes interrupted by copses of grand old trees with outstretched branches. Some of the houses are surrounded by lush flower gardens. It’s not an area Xie Lian’s ever been too, nor does it seem like the kind of place he would want to live. But it’s fascinating just to see it for the first time.
Hua Cheng pulls down a narrow road, then turns onto another. Xie Lian squints as he makes out something odd on the horizon. Whatever it is, it’s silver, and a cluster of buildings sit low and flat around it. When wide concrete paths start to interrupt the endless greenery, he realizes what he’s looking at.
“I thought,” he says gingerly, “when you said someplace nice, you meant a fancy restaurant.”
“We can go to a restaurant,” Hua Cheng answers airily. He pulls the car into the yard, and they park. Holding Xie Lian’s fingers loosely, he leads him along the paths toward the airfield. The private jet sits on the runway like a horse at the gate, already humming. A movable staircase leads up to the main entrance. A number of people are working around it. One of them sees the pair approaching and offers Hua Cheng a bow.
“How soon can we be ready?” Hua Cheng asks him.
“Twenty minutes,” the man says. “We’ve been prepping since we got your text.”
Xie Lian wonders when Hua Cheng had managed to text them. “This is your plane?” A silly question; Hua Cheng nods easily, as though everyone has a private airfield with a jet ready to go at any moment. “Where are you taking me?”
Hua Cheng meets his gaze with a smile. “Where would you like to go? Tokyo? Hong Kong? Thailand is stunning this time of year.”
“San Lang,” Xie Lian starts, his heart pounding. Hua Cheng smiles that much more widely at the sound of the name. “Isn’t this a little…”
“Much?” Hua Cheng finishes for him. “Not at all. Not for gege.” He lays a hand on the small of Xie Lian’s back -- Xie Lian gasps at the touch -- and ushers him forward until they are both standing at the bottom of that staircase, the airplane’s door a wide unblinking eye at the top. Hua Cheng bows and makes a gesture with his hand toward the staircase -- after you.
Xie Lian’s brain rockets into high gear. He has brought nothing with him but his briefcase, and even that is still in the car. No one knows where he is or where he’s going. He’s traveled a little in life -- nothing too far from home -- but this would be a trip like no other, totally unplanned and utterly irresponsible. Every ounce of common sense in his brain is urging him to shake his head politely and back away.
But this man. This fascinating man, who is offering him the world. For every voice inside Xie Lian that says no, there’s a current of pulsing blood in his veins whispering yes, yes.
“I’m not sure,” he begins, tentatively.
“Gege,” Hua Cheng murmurs, “You speak of self as containing an infinity of possibilities for every moment of life. But the paradox of infinity is that some infinities are larger than others. At this moment, you have more possibilities than ever before. Given those infinite possibilities, at this moment, what will you choose?”
He’s right. The possibilities facing him right now are truly endless. And hidden in Hua Cheng’s words, there is a challenge -- do you dare? And Xie Lian finds, to his surprise, that he does. He not only dares, he wants. To see this through, to learn more about this man, to take a crazy chance. His heart is pounding with the force of his desire. And once, just once in his studious, conservative life, he listens to it.
He smiles at Hua Cheng, lifts one hand to the railing of the staircase, and begins to ascend.
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cigardadmasterdj · 3 years
Photo
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"Do I look like a little boy....ROB?"
Cass had called Rob by his first name. Before he had always been known to his son's friends as "Mr. Gill" or "Mr. G".
"Look. I uhhhh. Yes. You. You are...quite a big boy now," Rob replied. He was almost unable to think.
"No, I'm a big MAN now, Rob. I know you can't stop checking out how big I've gotten. Check these babies out. I'm a fuckin' stud now. I'm a lot bigger and stronger than you now."
"Yeah...yeah you are." Rob checked to make sure his son was still playing video games downstairs.
"Want me to show you? Watch!" Cass moved quickly and he pinned Rob to the wall. "See? Try and move. You can't."
"Yes...you're very strong. Um, please let me go."
"No. You're supposed to try really hard to outpower me, Rob. Geez. Just try. For me."  There was a swagger to Cass' voice that Rob had never heard before. He hadn't seen the lad...er...man...it felt so weird to say that, in two years. And in just two years he'd grown to become a huge fucking BEAST beyond anything he thought possible for the delicate little boy who used to come over for his son's birthday parties.  
He tried. Cass' grip was like a vise.
"I..I I can't move."
"I'm way stronger than you now. You're like a boy compared with me now, huh, Rob?"
"I think you should call me Mr. Gill."
"And I think I should call you ROB. What do you think of my muscles, Robby?"
"I love them, Sir." Rob couldn't help himself. The pheromonal power this boy er...man now held over him was overpowering all his senses. The smell of the boy's pits and the closeup of his musculature was too much for him to bear.
"I knew it! You're a fag! Now don't get all upset, Robby. I think you and I are gonna be good friends. I like faggots and it's time I got one of my own. So here's what you're gonna do," Cass said, leaning in. "You're gonna take me to your bedroom and you're going to suck my dick, and then we're gonna go downstairs like nothin' happened."
"But...my son...Trev will notice we're gone."
"Then you better make it quick, huh faggot?" Cass whispered in his ear. Rob barely knew what was happening. He was suddenly in his own bedroom, looking at the perfect man...he was pathetic in comparison. Dumpy, middle aged and fat.
"I haven't done this in years." Rob let out a little puppy whine when Cass' floppy, large 8 inch cock danged in front of him, waiting to be sucked. A real man's cock and the boy he used to drive to little league games was now commanding him to suck him off.
"Do it fast," Cass warned him.
The amount of cum was unexpected. It was hotter, wetter, and more voluminous than he could dream of producing himself.
"Swallow it," Cass growled in between thrusts.
So he did. All of it. And there was more and more. He couldn't believe his stomach was filling up with the man juice of the neighbor boy who lived just down the street. He had really been out of the loop of things. And now everything had switched all at once.
"You're my fag now and you'll suck me off whenever I want. Got it?"
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, Sir."
When they came downstairs, Trev was playing video games and totally engrossed. Little did he know his own father's stomach was filled with his best friend's semen, and Rob couldn't be happier about it.
 MY NAME IS MASTER DJ. I AM A CASHMASTER, AND I HAVE ENSLAVED HUNDREDS OF MEN OVER THE YEARS. THEY ALL BOW TO ME. THEY WORSHIP ME. THEY CRAVE ME. THEY LOVE ME. I DESERVE IT ALL.
LIKE MY BLOG, STORIES AND CAPTIONS?
THANK ME VIA AN AMAZON GIFTCARD.
https://www.amazon.com/gift-cards/b?node=2238192011 
Send it to:
I KNOW ALL. I SEE ALL. I SEE INSIDE YOUR FAGGOT SOUL.
https://www.amazon.com/gift-cards/b?node=2238192011
ALL FAGS LOVE ME. ALL FAGS WORSHIP ME. ALL FAGS CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF ME. YOU CRAVING SOME ORDERS, YOU LOWLY MAGGOT? HUH? COME MESSAGE ME ABOUT HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO SERVE. MASTER DJ IS HERE, AND I’M BETTER THAN YOU IN EVERY WAY.
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alectology-archive · 3 years
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hi there!! 💕 if it's not too much hassle, i was just wondering what your thoughts on the bone season are, and whether you recommend it or not!
i enjoyed priory of the orange tree, but i've heard some worrying things about samantha shannon's other works 🥺 i haven't been following you for super long but you seem to have a critical and reasonable opinion on these things! also i hope you have a lovely day 💗💗💗
Oh, hi! I’ve read the books and I definitely consider the bone season a favourite series of mine. I personally love the aesthetic the books have going on, plus the world building (the world building!! and especially the magic system) and writing are really, really good so I’d definitely recommend it. The protagonist, Paige, is demisexual, so that was an added bonus.
A lot of my criticisms mostly tend to be with the first book, which the author wrote when she was 19 and also admitted was the book she wished she could go back and rework a little. (Upon my reread I did discover that it was actually my second-favourite book in the series, if that counts? So the book isn’t as imperfect as I might make it sound).
As for the actual criticisms,
mostly with respect to the first book, the world building tends to be kinda info-dumpy and very heavy in the beginning? It was really easy to follow when I reread the books in January, though.
the relationship between Paige and an immortal character made me slightly uncomfy (specifically in the fourth book tbh because it was where they fully crossed into romantic territory) and I’d have really preferred it if they’d maintained a platonic relationship. That said, the author did specifically set out to write a romantic relationship that was built on a very strong foundation of trust and communication (which she achieves) and I really love the series for that.
[ I do want to link this post because the author is very aware of the power balance that needs to be tackled when a mortal character has a romantic relationship with an immortal character. She actually addresses the complexities and issues in the books as opposed to writing with blind ignorance and zero nuance like a lot of other authors (ahem, sjm) ]
This also reminds me that another reason the relationship made me uncomfortable was because said immortal character also peruses Paige’s dreams and memories without her consent and I do have slightly complicated (but generally okay) thoughts about it. I’ll put it under a cut for you to come back to if you ever read the specific scene (it’s from book 1)*
Paige conflating the immortal character’s title with his name and continuing to address him by his title in books 2&3 kinda further drove home the power imbalance but this post actually made sense to me because a lot of Paige’s trauma in the books are linked with people who address Arcturus by his name.
Hope this helped!
*It’s a really complicated subjected for sure, and that’s in part because Paige and Arcturus were essentially enemies and they did not owe each other anything. From Arcturus’s perspective, there sure were a lot of things at stake and he was risking his own life as well as the rebellion’s success (and therefore the lives of all the humans in the colony) by placing his trust in Paige so I think it would make sense for him to use his gift to ensure that Paige could be a real, solid, ally. Also keep in mind that the Ranthen do not have many allies at the time this occurred so they really could not afford any mistakes.
BUT Paige is in the right to be upset--and especially, Samantha allows her to be really upset and the narrative holds Arcturus responsible for his actions because irrespective of the intent, it was still a violation to view her memories without consent. I do think the choice of memory--about her crush on Nick--was particularly personal and I didn’t like that but I think it was a product of Samantha being really young when she wrote the book. I haven’t come across anything else that really made me raise an eyebrow in her books, though!
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alexiethymia · 4 years
Text
humpty-dumpty
title: humpty-dumpy
notes: character study on yako. part of the ‘mysteries have no rhyme or reason’ series, formerly the ‘mysteries have no answers’ series
Yako hates things she does not understand, so it was inevitable she’d hate humans too.
To love any of them was pure folly, an incomprehensible act, so why would anyone do it?
Why did she?
Yako doesn’t understand herself either.
I wonder what it means to die. Yako never got the chance to ask Misaki. And she never would again.
But if she could have, perhaps she would have known where to go to follow. Yako doesn’t bother herself with thoughts that will lead nowhere. Why would she waste her valuable time better spent sleeping? (and at least in dreams she can see Misaki again)
Anyway, it’s a probably moot point, because for all that Yako can go anywhere, where Misaki went is probably the one place she can’t go. The fates of humans and supernaturals were never supposed to intersect. There is a reason the far shore and the near shore are kept separate.
Yako understands. It makes perfect sense. Look at what happened to her because of her excessive entanglement with an inhabitant of the near shore.
When Yako allows herself to entertain such foolish musings, she wonders if anything would have been different if anyone warned her.
Humans are fragile and easily broken, and though fixing the pieces of a shattered heart may be possible, it is not so easily done for a human.
Yako learns, the hard way, you can’t just put them back together again.
Again it’s a moot point, because who could have warned her? Certainly not that emo-spider. Just because she was a supernatural didn’t mean she mingled with other supernaturals. She was above that sort of thing.
Any connection she’d formed, if that, was after Misaki. It was because of Misaki.
But what’s done is done and she lost control. She’s not going to make excuses and blame it on rumours, because that desperation - to do anything - was all her.
Another reason to avoid entanglements with humans, they felt too much and let their emotions consume them. And what disgusts Yako so much more than becoming a monster is becoming too human.
For curiosity’s sake and in a rare bout of civility, Yako had asked the emo-spider what humans were made of. He was a science teacher right? He could probably answer her.
And then he’d spouted stuff about calcium, iron, carbon, nitrogen and things she had no idea of. Useless. He just made her head hurt.
Of course the best person to ask about humans was someone who was a former human himself, and though Yako will never admit he scares her (mainly because he has no scent that Yako can detect), she tells Honorable Number 7 what emo-spider said.
funny how stars and people are made of the same stuff, don’t you think? he’d said and left it at that.
How confusing. Yako just ended up back where she started.
Yako could have told you about stars and the stories they told. Even Orihime was not spared her love for the human Hokiboshi. Yako never understood the quaint practice of wishing upon stars when they themselves could not fulfil their own wishes.
Yako would not rely on that. She’d take action, no matter what that entailed. If she hurt others in the process, then just maybe, just maybe, Misaki would come back if only to scold her.
And when she failed, she decided - enough, no more. She wouldn’t subject herself to the same fate again. She’d avoid these cursed humans.
Unfortunately, like Mokke, their species were as numerous as they were stupid. Every piece collected didn’t give her the one human she wanted, but instead brought her three unwanted brats. It was like a scavenger hunt except what she got at the end was a punishment instead of a prize.
She’d bite them to pieces, but like Mokke, they kept coming back, these stupid children.
The girl was like Misaki and Yako didn’t want anything to do with her, but she scolded her - her! - and then called her beautiful.
The boy who was like her with his dead friend at least knew his place and properly called her Yako-neesan.
Honorable No. 7 still frightened her at times as their all powerful leader, but at the same time he was just a boy. Her disgust overcomes her fear when she sees him avert his eyes from a beautiful girl in a kimono (Yako did good work if she could say so herself) and fail to give even a half-decent compliment indeed proving that he was just a brat. He could stand to learn from Yako’s maturity and grace.
(but she sees from her perspective on his shoulder just how much his eyes are shining, just like a little girl’s once shone when presented a pair of shears)
As she said, how disgusting.
She was such a pitiful creature, being forced to work under his blatant abuse of power. If not for threats of kitsune udon, she wouldn’t have bothered leading them to No. 3’s boundary, or going to the festival, or napping on the girl’s lap at times.....what those chubby legs were comfortable!
She’d concede that they made for good resting spots at least - even that emo-spider. Like good slaves, they would carry her around as should be the case for a lady like her.
But it wasn’t worth it. They may be good footrests, but even that wasn’t worth it to see the same story happen again. And again.
What was the point when the ending would be the same?
Honorable Number 7 is cruel keeping her. But she doesn’t know whether he’s being cruel on her or being cruel on himself. It’s the same thing Yako would have done and she knows with bone-deep certainty that he’ll end up doing what she did when it happens. Driving his own knife though his heart would hurt less (she would know).
Honorable Number 7 doesn’t need to be reminded that he can’t put her back together again. Pretty as a doll is only a figure of speech.
Sometimes Yako wonders if she should just cut the red ties that bind them - her color, the color of blood when Misaki fell, the color of fate - before it ends up strangling them both. For all of Honorable No. 7’s power, he is still just a brat and maybe there’s something Yako can teach him. He can’t keep her like a doll in the hopes that she won’t break.
Love isn’t a beautiful thing. It’s twisted and dark and can drive anyone - human or supernatural - to do unspeakable things in its name.
But then again, maybe it’s not her breaking that he’s afraid of. Yako knows that once you fall, it’s over. In a rare bout of sympathy, she wonder if she and him were just doomed to shatter from the start. Even supernaturals aren’t spared the burden of a heart just because it no longer beats.
Just like Yako has only ever loved Misaki, she’s only ever missed him as well. She certainly won’t miss this overly familiar girl even if she didn’t laugh and call her dumb or stupid or any of the other words Yako calls herself, for falling, and looking like she understood her.
What a foolish notion trying to understand the unexplainable, a school mystery of all supernaturals, and trying to understand the one who reigns supreme and secret of them all.
What a foolish, foolish girl.
Yako won’t miss her and her fingers stroking through her fur calling it beautiful, as if the pure white was never blemished with red. Yako won’t miss her even if she did have good taste and a fine eye for beautiful things. Yako won’t miss helping her look lovely because though Yako may be a supernatural who doesn’t understand humans, females shared a common language across species, and she had also been young, and foolish, and in love.
She’ll tell her all the things she’s realised - that supernaturals and humans will always be a tragedy, but leave it at that. She won’t cut or destroy ever again, and just like Yako made her own decisions, she should too.
Humans aren’t dolls, Yako has already learned. They can’t be put back together again, they can’t be manipulated like puppets on a string, and they rush headlong into their doom for the people they love.
Incomprehensible. Illogical. Immoveable in their faith.
Sometimes Yako thinks humans are the real mysteries.
Yako chose her own heartache, and she will have to choose hers.
So Yako won’t miss her. Like she said, she already knows how this story ends. It’s just that she doesn’t want to have to wipe the tears of the other brat again. He already lost a friend. (when she cried, did anyone wipe hers?)
She doesn’t know if Honorable Number 7 will even cry. Or if like her, no one will ever be able to put him back together again.
This is why Yako doesn’t let her thoughts wander for too long. It all goes back in circles it feels like she’s chasing her tail.
Because Yako understands that she should have never been involved with humans - with Misaki.
She understands that all it brought her was pain.
She understands it’s the same fate that awaits those two brats.
But if given a choice of never having met Misaki and avoiding all of this in the first place, why does she know with bone-deep certainty that if she had to, she’d do it all over again?
And it is with that same certainty, she knows that Honorable No. 7 unfortunately feels the same.
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gone-series-orchid · 4 years
Text
“clean”
@emilybarger here’s your oneshot about lisa! i hope it’s okay!
Lisa used to look in the mirror a lot at home. She’d wanted to scrutinize the way her limp blonde hair fell straight over her shoulders—not a wave or curl in sight—and the dark circles under her eyes, which never went away no matter how many facial scrubs she stole from her older sister, Nia. Nia had lots of curls; she was adopted from Africa when she was a baby. She was a natural beauty, with lips that tilted in a sunny smile and eyelashes that naturally curled at the ends. Lisa had always been jealous of her.
It was a good thing Nia was seventeen, Lisa often thought when the dome first appeared. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she chomped bags of Doritos and ran heedlessly through the streets with other kids, breathless with freedom, thinking, Bye bye, Nia. Hello, freedom. It was Lisa’s time to shine.
Or so she had thought.
Now, Lisa had another jealousy occupying her thoughts: the moofs. The freaks. If she had a power—if she could cancel gravity like Dekka or shoot blazing, deadly light from her hands like Sam—she would be worth more than Nia, any day. But no, the universe or God or whoever had conspired against her once again, she thought bitterly. She was just a normal.
But that was one of the benefits of being in the Human Crew—they had dreams of righting wrongs, making everyone equal. If that meant handicapping a few moofs whose powers were too great, it was no skin off Lisa’s nose. It was only fair.
Deep down, Lisa knew exactly what power she’d like. She kept it secret—the Human Crew wasn’t exactly pro-freak, obviously—but she thought about it every time she looked at Zil Sperry, who sat close enough to her during meetings so she could feel his body heat, so their knees almost touched, whose kisses made her heart feel like it was going to burst even though they were wet and lackluster and bored. Lisa was no dummy—she knew Zil was only with her because she was the only girl in the Human Crew, and that he’d probably ditch her the minute a girl who looked as beautiful as Astrid the Genius came along, if she ever did. 
That’s why, if Lisa had one power, she’d want the power to boys fall in love with her. Or—scratch that—not all boys, like she’d imagined before the FAYZ, when she was just a nobody with zits on her knees and no friends. 
Just Zil.
Girls always fell over themselves crushing on Lance, but Zil was the one to watch, Lisa knew. He had dark, curly hair that she loved to run her fingers through, almond-brown eyes, and crooked teeth that she found simply adorable. Girls liked Lance because he was confident, but it was Zil’s lack of confidence that Lisa was drawn to. He was going to bring down the freaks and put humans in power, sure—but every word he spoke, the way he walked, even, projected that he’d need help to do it. 
He’d need Lisa to back him up, to comfort him after hard decisions, to tell him what he was doing was right. Zil was vulnerable. That was what Lisa liked about him, though she would never admit it: his insecurities so closely matched hers. They were both jealous of older siblings. Both misfits. That’s why they were perfect together, even though Zil couldn’t see it at the moment.
The mirror was cracked. Lisa could still see herself if she wiped away the layer of dust over the glass, which she did with expert fingers. The FAYZ wasn’t really the type of place where kids liked looking at themselves. It was too depressing, seeing the dirt and grit in their unwashed hair, the haunted look in their sunken eyes. Still, Lisa couldn’t shake the habit. The dark half-moons under her eyes had only gotten worse since the period of starvation they’d all gone through. It’d been months since, and she’d gotten at least a measure of baby fat back, but still, the dark circles remained. Lisa pulled a face at herself, hooking her index fingers into the corners of her cheeks and stretching so she looked like a leering monster. Being purposefully ugly, she reasoned, was better than being ugly when you were just being normal. When you were just being you.
Lisa decided to take a shower. Just thinking about Nia was making her feel grimy, unclean, in comparison. And wasn’t that a laugh! Nia was somewhere beyond the dome, probably chowing down on all the foods Lisa couldn’t. She was far away, but not so far enough that she couldn’t still irk her dumpy little sister. Lisa started to grind her teeth, then stopped, irritated. That was a habit she thought she kicked long ago, but it had come back in the wake of nearly starving to death. Go figure.
Soon, Turk or Lance or someone would knock on the bathroom door. They were always trying to get in the minute she wanted some peace and quiet, even though they were boys and could piss outside. Lisa eased her jean skirt down her legs, kicking off her underwear. 
Zil never knocked. That was a pain. If he did, Lisa would be fine letting him in. Just the thought made a shiver zip up her spine. She smiled to herself as she turned on the bathtub faucet, then the shower head. She didn’t look at herself when she was naked—that was too far. She didn’t want to see the zits pimpling her shoulders and thighs—not in this detail.
She stepped into the tub. The water from the shower head washed over her, nice and hot. Lisa felt her spirits lift as her hair grew soaked, droplets spraying down her back. God, this was the life. If only she could stay in here forever. If only Zil would join her. That happened in young adult books sometimes—the steamy ones, anyway. At the thought, Lisa curled her toes, wistful.
Then she took the sponge sitting in the corner of the tub, scrunched it up, and poured body wash onto it. The bottle glugged; Lisa needed a lot. Then she began to scrub. Feet and legs first, working her way up.
She wanted to be clean.
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imma-fucking-nerd · 4 years
Text
((here’s the thing I thought I lost))
OKAY SO I JUST HAD THIS IDEA FROM A DREAM AND IM IN LOVE
If you're familiar with Steven Universe then you'll get this
So without further ado, here's headcanons of Dewey x me x Beetlejuice fusion hcs
The fusion of Dew, Bails, and Beej is an odd one
First off they go with they/them pronouns but aren't to strict about it so if you call them she or he they're chill
They have four eyes and three arms
The first pair of eyes are big and bright with one eye being brown and the other one blue
The other pair of eyes are slightly smaller and lay just underneath the first pair, their colour being golden
Their third arm connects at the right arms elbow
If you know Steven Universe then it's kinda like Smokey Quartz
Their name is
Bailweyjuice
Their hair is shoulder length, T H I C K, and very, very messy
It's mostly brown aside from mood changing tips
They also got a lil chest hair + stuble to match
But they also have boobs and kinda feminine features
Kinda like Stevonnie
And they obvs have a dick too
But anyways onto their personality-
Dewey's and Beej's high energy really outweigh my laziness so they're pretty bubbly
But they know when and how to chill
And although each of the individuals are clingy needy bastards, Bailweyjuice is pretty independent
Mostly because they're made up of everyone they need and love
They're also a hot head too
But (for the most part) they're all about helping people
And they ALWAYS try to take shortcuts
Or the easiest route
Not necessarily the BEST route
Which sometimes doesn't help at all
Which makes them feel really guilty
So then they go HARD at trying to fix it
And when they only make things worse they disappear to sulk in their guilt for a while
Singing the sadness away
Oh btw they def have Beej's powers
SPEAKING OF
They like to lounge around in the air playing their double necked guitar
YOU HEARD ME RIGHT
Double. Necked. Guitar.
Works well cuz of the extra arm
They play both a high upbeat tune and mellow chill one
THEY. LOVE. FOOD.
Also they're VERY chonky
Like they DUMPY THICC
Their stummy sticks out from under their vest
But they leave their jacket WIDE open cuz they give 0 FUCKS
OH YEAH THEIR CLOTHES
They wear Beej's stripy dress shirt (with one of Dewey's vests ((which also changes colour based on mood))) and his iconic striped jacket, plus black ripped skinny jeans
Which their thicc thighs lowkey pour out of
They also wear black leather combat boots with stripy shoelaces and green aglets
Also they have black nails with one odd gold one
On the middle fingers
Okay I think that's all I got for now
Ik this was probably kinda cringe but OH WELL
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pandoraimperatrix · 4 years
Text
Four Names for Love
Gotham | BatCat | BabyFic | Multi-chapter | Read on AO3
Summary: When Bruce parted ways with Gotham he was leaving behind more than he thought. Meanwhile Selina is trying to find a way to herself after being abandoned again and on top of that she finds out she was left with a lot more than a heartbreak.
Agape part II
 Selina left Haven and her trashed room behind. That life she was leading there was a dream, but now she was back to reality and she reminded herself that she was good at reality, well, not good, but she had survived on her own until this point, and she would not give up now.
She bitterly remembered those nights when they whispered plans for the future under the covers, the life they would have together. He talked the most, she listened, rolled her eyes at his silly romantic boy ways. But how nice was to believe that there will be a future, that there was more than live one day each. So much bullshit. How could she let herself believe in all that crap?
‘I guess I am young and stupid.’
She breathed in, held for a little, let it out. She haven’t eaten yet. But that she was used to. That was good. Hunger. She knew hunger. She knew how to deal with it. It was simple; it was real, not like the stupid dreams, the unreachable yearnings that didn’t belong to someone like her.
She just have to rob herself a dinner.
But Gotham was a very different city from before. If it was a rotting carcass before, rich enough to feed street rats like her all sort of vermin, now only the naked bones remained. And it wasn’t like the rich people would come back anytime soon. What was left was the miserable and the poor.
She couldn’t rob people that have nothing. Could she?
How could she know that morals were also a kind of STD? Tabitha never told her, but she wouldn’t know that either.
Fucking rich asshole.
 Her old squat was a stinky hole, there was cat pee and cat poo e v e r y w h e r e, but no cats, not anymore.
But she guessed she deserved that after abandoning her babies. At least there was running water again. Stomach howling, Selina cleaned. Stomach calling her dirty dirty names, Selina lay in her ruined cot, she had stripped the sheets and flipped over the mattress but it still stank like hell.
She needed clean beddings. Where the fuck would she get that?
The next day she was so hungry her stomach gave up hurting.      She tried to stop thinking about what the other kids like her would say when they were trying to find something eatable in the dumpsters behind junk food restaurants, that if you didn’t eat the walls of your stomach would stick together and fold and you would die.
Kids were like that, they liked to scare each other even when reality was scary enough.
By noon she had found a broken vending machine that somehow still have a single gummy bears package, and she was really impressed when she noticed that it wasn’t expired. Maybe that would feed everyone post-apocalypse: children snacks with free nutritional value. That was a happy thought, see, she was thriving.
She knew that now the government was sending help there was probably a soup kitchen of sorts back in Haven, but she would rather boil her own leather jacket and eat it than stand the pity looks everyone would send her there.
 Selina tried to contact the people from her old background network and to her surprise, she discovered that not much have changed there.
‘I mean, No Man’s Land? Pfff. We were already living in warlike conditions way before that. Not all of us found ourselves billionaire boyfriends and cop pals.’
She deserved that, but she still punched him for good measures. In that life no disrespect should be treated lightly.
There she found out that there was one place that haven’t been completely cleaned out yet, the Drake Mansion. Well, must of it was scraped clean, but there was one vault that no one was able to get in. Selina smiled when she heard that. Finally.
 Of course the dammed mansion had to next to the demolished Wayne one. She ignored the feeling of her heart sinking when she saw the pile of rubbles, turned her face away. That place, that life, it didn’t matter anymore. She climbed the Drake Mansion tall iron fence with practiced ease, yes, that was what she was good at. That was her, not Selina Kyle the hero, Selina Kyle the thief. The Selina Kyle that cared for what was really important: herself.
The door was ajar and imposed no difficulty for her to get inside. The whole place was trashed and it was clear that someone was there before because it held nothing of value, nothing that could be traded for food or melted into ammo. That, Selina thought, was reality.  That was what people really amounted to in the end. Surviving.
She walked through the bare corridors, in some of them even the wallpaper was ripped off, to make fire, she thought, smart.
‘If I were a rich prick where would I hide a secret vault?’ she whispered to herself. Basement? Attic? A secret passed in the library? Behind a grandfather clock?  
Well, there was no grandfather clock, and all the books were gone from the shelves so she couldn’t just pick one and the secret passage would open like in a Scooby Doo episode. She wished she had pressed for more information. Geez, her head was pounding, her body had really get used to that eating everyday thing. There was nothing in the basement, just trash and what looked like it was one abandoned squat. How could someone have chosen to be in that creepyass place? And it was freezing!
She was getting really annoyed and was ready to climb to the attic when she noticed something moving with the corner of her eye. Selina rested her hand on her bullwhip slowly and walked towards it. It moved again. With luck was just a rat. It moved once more and let out a squeal, a very human one. Not a rat then.
She rolled her eyes, nothing that made that sound could possibly be dangerous.
‘Come on out!’
Nothing.
‘If you don’t then I will have to go there and I don’t think you will like it.’
The shadow rustled a bit, and them it tried to make a run to the stairs.
Selina cracked her whip blocking their way.
It was a girl. Around her same age. She was wearing a long dirty wool skirt a pile of coats that with the addition of the enormous backpack she had on made her look very small despite her actual size, she was taller than Selina, her hair was brown and oily. She had her back to Selina.
‘Turn around! Who are you?’
She turned surprised.
‘Selina?’
Selina frowned.
‘Do I know you?’
‘It’s me, Paul! Paul Milligan. Well, it’s Nikki now.’
Selina blinked confused and then the girl walked closer, Selina’s hand held the bullwhip harder, but she didn’t strike again. The thin light bean coming from upstairs washed the stranger’s face.
‘Oh my god! It’s you!’ She couldn’t help the smile. ‘What the fuck you’re doing here? Didn’t they find you a good family last time? And Nikki? What is that? A stripper name?’
Her old friend laughed lightly.
‘It’s for Nichole, my parents chose it. The new ones.’
‘What happened?’
‘They died. The building they worked was one of those that blew up.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yeah, me too. But hey, you’re looking good.’
‘Can’t say the same.’
Nikki laughed again, thing time more whole-heartily.
‘I missed you, Cat.’
‘Sheesh. So…’ She pointed to the cot on the corner of the room. ‘You’re squatting here?’
‘No, nooo. I’m here to do the same as you, I guess. The vault?’
Selina sighed, great. She was happy to see Nikki and all but that was the last thing she needed right now, competition.
‘Look, Nikki…’
‘No, listen, Selina. I know you work alone, but hear me out, I don’t think this is a work for just one person.’
‘And why is that?’
Nikki looked up.
‘I’ve been studying this place for a while… I you need to go up there to open the vault down here. It has this very complicated computer system, but I think I can hack it.’
‘But there is no power here, how is this computer system even on?’
‘I think they have a generator.’
‘Shit.’
Selina was good at a lot of things, but she had no idea of how to deal with that nerd stuff.
‘Hey, we can collab. For the old times?’
Selina met Nikki on Gotham’s Children Center where Selina was thrown time after time when she was rejected by some foster family or simple picked up from the streets when she fled. Nikki, then Paul, was this sad little nerd that Selina took a like into because she helped her to learn to read in exchange for protection from the other kids that beat her up regularly and called her slurs. When Selina was ten, Nikki, then eight, left the GCC to live with this nice suburban family and Selina heard that she was adopted later. She was happy for her friend at the time, but also jealous, she wasn’t the only one. She after hearing some boys saying really disgusting things about her friend she decided to discount her frustration by beating the shit out of them and fleeing GCC again before getting a punishment. They didn’t try to bring her back after that.
Nikki was still waiting an answer with those big brown eyes of her.
Selina rolled her eyes and sighed.
‘Okay, fine. What do I have to do?’
 Turns out that was a lot of money in that vault. A lot.
‘What are going to do with your share?’ Asked Nikki, she still looked dumpy but now her cheeks were a healthy red and she had a gleam of happiness in her eyes.
‘I’m leaving Gotham.’
‘What?’
‘Why? Is it so hard to believe that I want nothing to do with this shitty place?’
‘No, it’s just… I head about you…and Bruce Wayne.’
Selina winced at the sharp pain hearing his name brought.
‘That is over. He is gone.’
‘He died?!’
Despite herself Selina almost laughed. She missed Nikki, she had a childlike way to say things, and she was always jumping to extreme conclusions, it was endearing.
‘No, you moron. He left.’
‘Oh… I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. I don’t care. I don’t care about him.’
Nikki said nothing.
‘What about you? What are you going to do with yours?’ Asked Selina.
‘Where will you go?’
‘Why?’
‘Do you think you could use some company?’
 So this was the first part. I’m really glad for the views, kudos, bookmark and comment. You guys are great!
Next chapter might be a bit raunchy XDD Lots of flashbacks of Selina and Bruce in Heaven.
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Writer’s Questionnaire
tagged by @galadrieljones! Thanks! :)
Short stories, novels, or poems? I write a lot of short scenes, but I prefer reading novels as well as writing them. It’s so fun to see how your character grows and changes, how they develop, and how things you thought would happen don’t, or happen in a way different from what you imagined. It’s wonderful, though difficult. (Constantly I have to ask myself have I used this turn of phrase in the story before?)
What genre do you prefer reading? Looking at the books that caught my interest of late, (and in general) the stuff I read has some sort of family dynamic present. More often than not, there’s also a love story. Typically my favorite books are sagas that take place over different generations. (thorn birds one of them, and when I was younger and read a lot of Sidney Sheldon, one of my favorites of his was Master of the game, which took place over fifty years of family. my older self though now really likes Rage of Angels...I would love to like modernize that story...) My dream is to write a long family saga one day.
What genre do you prefer writing? there’s no contest: Romance. I was once very adamant about not using that word due to the stigma behind the romance genre, very keen on...a story about two people who happen to be in love! But you know..it’s romance. I’m just endlessly fascinated by the different ways people can fall in love, and how their love manifests and effects others. 
Are you a planner or a write-as-I-go kind of person? Hmmmm.....a little of both. With Our Immortal longings I made an outline of events, but things changed, shifted around, or flat out didn’t happen. Back in the day I was very strict on following the outline I wrote, but now I’ve finally found the happy medium of following it but understanding the story is going in a different direction. I think one of the reasons my modern AU is stagnant right now is because I didn’t make an outline.
What music do you listen to while writing? Usually I don’t. However, there are a few scenes I have written throughout my resume where there was a song I replayed over and over again, because it just fit the mood. So now when I listen to one of those songs, all I can think about is the scene. :)
Fave books/movies? Hmmm I have books that have meant a lot to me over the years. East by Edith Pattou (which now has a sequel. Like..wha?) The Thorn Birds by Colleen McCoullogh, Phantom by Susan Kay. I also love so many plays. Of course Shakespeare, but also Anton Chekhov. 
Movies: Howl’s Moving Castle is arguably my biggest inspiration. And when I watched gone with the wind when I was 12 I swear it changed me. I wasn’t used to seeing female characters being so unapologetic, and while I certainly don’t idolize Scarlett O’hara, I find her endlessly interesting as a character. Some other favorites are The Sound of Music, That Hamilton Woman, Wuthering Heights(1939), Bridesmaids. And I saw the new A Star is Born and it’s on my eternal favorites list.
Any current WIPs? My DBH fic has become my main focus, Our Immortal Longings. (Which I would really love to shorten to Immortal Longings but hey what can you do.) I also have a post blight fic with cullen, that details the relationship he develops with one of the chantry sisters. I also have a modern AU with Cullen and Lydia. I like the fic in theory, and I was experimenting away from the romantic feel of my previous work to something blunter and more realistic (for lack of a better word.) But I just feel for Connor’s character when I played DBH, and I really wanted to tackle how he would deal with falling in love. In the process I seriously became enamored with my own OC and the dynamic she has with him. Odd because I was never interested in robots or stories about robots before...but now...well....look at all the possibilities! 
also I had a MGIT story about a Shakespearean actress. I’m sorry to those who liked the story, but I’m not going to continue with it.
If someone were to make a cartoon out of you, what would your standard outfit be? A pink colored sundress decorated with flowers, and ballet flats. My hair is big and curly.
Create a character description for yourself: She was alive. That was always good, though perhaps not in the best of her appearances with her glasses on, face unmade and hair in a messy bun. She was also wearing one of her dumpy nightshirts. But again, she was alive, and she was writing. Every single word she wrote was a victory. 
Do you like incorporating people you actually know into your writing? Bits of them sure, not blatant insertions to where people I know would know. Maybe just a wink.
Are you kill-happy with characters? Well, people do die IRL and in my writing. But I wouldn’t say I’m kill happy. IWD had two causalities. Will OIL have any? Well....I can’t answer that. Some of my favorite movies/books have poignant deaths, and I will admit the one major death scene that happened on screen in IWD was very cathartic and powerful for me. 
Am I George RR Martin kill happy though? no. 
Coffee or tea while writing? Morning: coffee. Night: Tea.
Slow or fast writer? I’m reasonably fast, though it certainly depends. sometimes it takes me a while to start. 
Where/who/what do you find inspiration from? Everything and anything. I always have my eyes peeled. When I was in Disney I came up with so many scenarios for Connor and Sophie, and yesterday doing sparklers and fireworks with my family I imagined a Cophie new year, lol. 
mainly though? Music. Definitely music.
If you were put into a fantasy world, what would you be? In my best life I’m a bard that follows along an adventurer and becomes their companion as they travel the the world. 
Most fave book cliche? Least fave book cliche? I’m a sucker for a lot of romantic tropes. The dance of romance, forehead touches, died in your arms, (Is that morbid? lol I’m sorry I just find it so dramatically satisfying.)  I love broody guy, gentle girl and variations of that trope. Friends to lovers. in fact I view my two OtPS a variation of the above. I probably have more too. Bedsharing too. I did bedsharing back before I knew everyone else loved it too :)
I’m of the opinion that most things can work if done properly but least favorite is by far the whole liar revealed story arc. at best I tolerate it, but...no. Just no. I’m getting a little tired of “we can’t be together” story lines and love triangles too. I also have tropes that I think are okay but everyone else loves: fake dating. (I know, I know. I even have my own fake dating story too. mostly I wrote it because I wanted to see if I could grow to like it.) and dramatic height differences. but this is mostly because I’m tall, and when I read young adult fiction as a youth, the LI was always so much taller than the herione...and I’m salty ok? lol. 
OH on young adult books: I’m tired of the heroine that “isn’t like other girls because I’m tough and reclusive and I don’t like makeup or whatever” (BELLA SWAN) I would like 2019 to be the year that I say you can be a powerful female and still like things that are traditionally feminine, and there should be no shame in it. I love writing characters that draw their strength through their femininity, because guess what...it’s not inherently weak! 
Fave scenes to write? I love scenes where the characters just talk. I love grand romantic gestures. I love moments of reflection. And of course, I love a love scene. :p
Most productive time of day for writing? When the muse strikes. 
It’s also strange to me that I most want to write when I’m in a crowd of people. maybe sometimes I feel like people are talking without listening and I feel a bit lonely so I imagine my characters, because they make me feel less lonely. 
Reason for writing? I always have in some way. The simple reason? I like to. It’s my therapy and my art. I just do :)
this took a long time for some reason! tagging @bitchesofostwick @negotiator-on-site @inquisitorsmabari @fourletterepithet @whatsherfacewrites @laraslandlockedblues @out-of-the-embers @ladymdc
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sabertoothcattery · 6 years
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So I had this dream last night in which a lot of stuff happened, including that Indiana Jones was in the original Star Wars movies and met and disliked Han Solo but never mind that part. Halfway through I teleported into what looked like one of those misty-eyed renditions of Mount Olympus with like a neat crumbling temple at the top overtaken by ivy or whatever. The villain, who was played by one of those really big DND minifigs (and had to be moved by hand by his minions in order to pose), summoned several Norse gods and commanded them to tell him The Secret Word Of Power. (I was a random captor/future sacrifice just watching all this go down.)
First he called Freyja, because everybody underestimates Freyja. She said, “I will never tell you The Word, it is worth more than my own life” (and also basically to fuck off but, yknow, elegantly)
Then he called Thor, bound in chains and bloodied. He said, “I cannot tell you The Word, for I have never known it, I have no need of it” (and also, Fucking Fight Me Bro)
Then he called Odin Himself, and Odin put on the guise of a weak old man in a tattered robe, begging for mercy. “I cannot tell you The Word,” he said, “for The Word is so powerful it would consume even my prodigious strength to utter it.”
“Bullshit,” said the Villain. “You are the King of Gods. You who gave writing to man, write The Word down if you dare not speak it. I know you know it! Give it to me!”
Then Odin transformed into a terrible visage, a giant man surrounded by strong winds and carrion birds, glowing with some blinding light from beneath His skin. “I do not lie,” he shouted. “I cannot speak The Word, for that would be my death, and yours, and all the worlds’. There is one other who knows it, but I advise you not to try. You will not like what you receive.” Then He broke his bonds and disappeared.
The Villain cursed and scuttled around in the temple for a while. He knew what he had to do, but he didn’t like it and didn’t want the answer to be what it was. After all, a Villain knows it is dangerous to consort with other Villains stronger and cleverer than themselves. But he found it to be the only way.
He summoned Loki to the temple. 
Loki was not at all what either of us was expecting. He was stout, almost... dumpy. A redhead, auburn really. He had a big nose that had been broken too many times and had a golden ring stuck through it, and big ears that stuck out too far and had been boxed too much and partially cut into a sort of leaf shape. His eyes were apparently green, but only apparently - they flicked to a terribly predatory yellow every few seconds unpredictably, a hawk’s eyes or a wolf’s. 
“Do you know of The Word!?” the Villain screeched.
“Oh, yeah, The Word,” Loki replied, unconcerned. He put his hands up like a defensive little old man being rudely passed on a busy sidewalk. “Yeah, I know The Word, what’s the big deal?”
“Deliver unto me The Word and its power!!!” demanded the Villain.
“Geez, okay, no need to shout about it,” Loki admonished. “The Word is this-”
Everything was muted for several long and horrible seconds as He pronounced The Word. The Villain reveled in his newfound power for all of three seconds before horror overtook him, and he disintegrated by cubic inch of flesh into worms on the ground, which then melted into fleshy goo, then faded into dust, and finally were gone. 
Then the world resumed its usual sound. My bonds were broken, as were those of my fellow prisoners. Loki looked me in the eye, and winked. “He was warned,” he shrugged, and disappeared.
I had nothing to say to this, because it was the truth, so I just leaped into a portal and went back to what I had been doing, which was coordinating refugee ships for everyone to travel from the Star Wars universe to the Zelda universe where we had been granted sanctuary. Later I turned into a great eagle and refused to resume my human form because I was having a much better time just Being A Bird.
I’ve never properly seen Loki before. It was awesome, in all the senses of the word “awe.”  
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