#i redrew the wall and i was like. wait. why am i leaving the wall here when i could edit it out as well? why keeping the wall here?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spideyanakin · 4 years

Text

Another One Bites The Dust

Will Turner x Reader

Synopsis; You’re in great need of a swordsmith

Requested by; @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes // Reader is disguised as a man and puts in an order for a sword with her father's money. She's planning on running away, and Will goes with her. They end up on Captain Jack Sparrow's "Black Pearl"

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Masterlist✨🧚🏻‍♀️

"And another one bites the dust" you smiled as you bowed towards the headless straw man you had made for sword training.

You placed your sword back on your hip and clapped your hands to remove the dust from it, happy with how your daily training went.

You heard a soft clap from behind you and turned around to meet eyes with your father.

"Well done, you're getting better." He said nodding towards the headless mannequin.

"Well thank you, father." You smiled as you walked towards him.

"But it isn’t suitable for a lady..." he said pointing to your sword and pants.

"I know, I know... but it makes me happy! So what do you care? You’ve always loved watching me practice!" You chuckled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving to your room.

"Y/n?" He stopped you.

"Yes?"

"Please wear the dress I got you... The Viscount is coming tonight."

"Alright." You smiled before leaving, rolling your eyes on the way out.

The next morning you’d woken up too late for your father's taste. He came barging in the room accompanied by two maids and a new dress even more beautiful and detailed than the previous one.

"Morning to you too." You breathed out as the curtains opened.

"I can’t believe you are still In bed! What will the Viscount say if you're late for breakfast!"

"Why is it important if he cares." You chuckled as you got out of bed. But the silence in the room and the way your father was staring at you was enough for all your questions to be answered.

"No." You replied. "No way." You nodded your head no as you walked in panic around your room.

"Yes. Yes, you are going to marry him! It’s a smart match for Port Royal and the entire family."

"Then I'll run away!" You said raising your arms in defeat.

"A lady like you won't be able to survive two days out there." your father stated which sent striking anger into you.

"You clearly know I am more able with my sword than most men are!" You stopped right in your steps.

"Yes! And that's what im most afraid about! I forbid you to use your sword again. It’s not proper for a lady like you. What would he say if he saw you use one." He shook his head. "I’m taking it all away. I won’t risk this!" He grabbed all your attire from your closet.

"Hey, that’s mine!" You felt tears rise as you tried to grab it from his arms but he didn't let you.

"A little help here." He looked at the maids who pulled you away from him. "I’m taking these away. And you will stop acting like a- like-" the words failed him as he saw you scream and shout from the maid's arms.

"Pirate?" You spit out after a moment of silence.

"Yes." He replied in a tone you'd never seen before. Fear struck you as more tears spilled. You heard the small clicks of the door locking and once the maids released their grip on you, you came crashing into the door trying to open it. You felt weak as you couldn't do anything and slid down the door sobbing. You were bound to be a noble's wife and trapped in a castle for the rest of your days and it was your worst nightmare.

The next thing you remembered was sitting at breakfast with a tight corset, puffy skirt, and preppy hat. The weather was so hot and humid and you felt like ripping it off you, even with your father's comments on how expensive it was.

You used your fan barely paying attention to what the Viscount had to say.

"Sir, he’s here." The butler entered clearing his throat catching the attention of your father and the Viscount.

"Alright let him in then!" Your father smiled and waved towards the table.

A few seconds later, a young man with brown hair came in. He was shifting in his spot holding what you knew was a sword box.

"Ah! Mister Turner!" He smiled as the young man entered the gardens.

"I have your sword, Sir." He opened the box revealing one of the most beautiful pieces you’d ever seen. The golden and the fine silver of the sword was breathtaking and the sword work was amazingly done.

Your mouth slightly opened at its beauty and you couldn’t help but reach for it. But you quickly redrew your hand as your father shot you daggers with his eyes.

You looked up to see the man who had made it and met with the most beautiful pair of honey eyes you'd ever seen. He gave you a soft smile that made your heart melt on the spot. The warm sensation sent a smile through your lips. You couldn't help but keep your stare fixed on him as you suddenly felt shy under his stare.

“Viscount, this is the swordsmith I was telling you about.” Your father cleared his throat at the silence and tapped Will’s shoulder.

Will was brought back to reality and gave a tight-lipped smile to the Viscount.

“That will be me.” He cleared his throat and nodded.

“Wait so you designed every sword my father owns?” You placed both your hands on the table and stared at him with wide eyes.

“I think I did...” Will nodded with a smile.

“That’s” You were going to finish your sentence but your smile was wiped off your face as your father glared at you to shut your mouth.

You kept quiet and took a sip of your tea, looking away as if not interested, but keeping a sharp ear.

“I apologize for my daughter, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” Your father laughed it off and earned a chuckle from the Viscount and a forced one from Will.

You brushed it off and kept looking at the sea wishing you could sail them with no laws to your name.

Throughout the next days, you watched as your father was showing his sword collection to the Viscount and testing him on his skills here and there. It made you sick to your stomach to see these two enjoying the use of a sword while you were stuck to the side with a fan and a dress.

Every day you had a quick reminder that he was going to propose in a few weeks and every day the fake smiles were killing you even more.

One night you decided you had enough. You dismissed yourself from dinner and walked right into your father's room, grabbing his coat and vest and the first hat you found on your way out.

You got dressed in your favorite pair of pants and added his vest plus his coat. You stuffed all your hair in his hat and left.

If your father was going to lock the door of the armory and take your sword away you were going to find another way to sword fight.

You grabbed the first sac of money you laid your hand on and walked out of the house.

You stayed quiet until dawn struck, and walked into town when the golden sunlight hit and the clock struck 8. You walked through the quiet streets until you found the ‘Mr.Brown Swordsmith’ sign.

You took a deep breath scared to meet those brown eyes again before knocking and pushing the door.

“Hello?” You tried to make your voice as deep as you could before looking around the room, the soft sound of crackling fire ringing through it.

Will Turner turned his head around to meet your eyes recognizing you instantly. His stare shifted to your outfit and slowly realized what you were doing. Your hair was all stuck in your hat and you tried to keep your head down. You were wearing a large vest that covered your shapes.

“Hello?” Will replied trying not to chuckle seeing you like this.

“I would like a sword sir.” You replied.

“Designed or premade?” He asked pointing to the rack of swords.

“Designed.” You made your back straighter at the thought of designing your own sword.

“You have a design in mind, sir?” He asked a bit skeptical in calling you, sir.

“Actually... Yes.” You replied a large smile painting your face.

The weeks went by and every day you tried to go and see Will’s work. He never stopped to impress you as his work was getting more and more beautiful.

“You know Mr. Smith your sword is one of my most delicate pieces so far.”

“Oh really?” You asked a little touched by his comment.

“Yeah! I mean a beautiful sword for a beautiful girl.” He said finally dropping the sword of Damocles.

Your cheeks started burning as you didn’t even notice you’d blew your cover.

“You don’t mea- Wait?” You started a sentence but realized what he had said. You looked at him with wide eyes and a smirk painted his face. “You knew?” You removed your hat letting all your hair flow down which sent Will's knees weak.

He gulped as he realized you were even more beautiful with your hair out. He looked at you and started laughing, a soft laugh that made your heart melt.

“How long have you known.” You laughed as your mouth stayed open in shock.

“Since the second you entered my shop.” He replied with a new chuckle.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” You placed a hand on your hip.

“I mean you were so caught up in your act I didn’t want to burst your bubble.” He stated.

“I- You-!” You stayed frozen in shock as he stared at you a wide grin on his face.

“Well, I didn’t do anything.” He raised his hands in innocence. You folded your eyes and pointed a warning finger at him wanting to say something but words failing you.

“I think you should go.” He said out of the blue pointing to the clock on the wall.

“Right.” You looked at it before shifting in your spot. “Well I’ll see you tomorrow Mr. Turner.” you nodded before walking towards the door.

“See you tomorrow, Miss. L/n.”

“You can call me Y/n” You smiled before walking out the door a large smile on your face.

The next day you removed your hat the second you entered Will’s shop. Your loose hair flowing as you did so, making Will weak.

"Hi.” He gave you a shy wave unable to communicate.

"Hey." You smiled and placed your hat and vest on the coat hanger skipping a step as you walked towards Will. "How’s my sword?” You asked getting closer to the fire.

"Very good." Will smiled as he showed you the handle. The golden rims of it made you forget all about your old one. Its delicate work was definitely one of Will’s greatest creations.

"I’ll say give it a few weeks." He smiled and you smiled back, a small silence falling as you stared into his eyes.

Every day with your father and the viscount felt like tortue. So when on one particularly sunny day when the viscount asked your hand in marriage, every thought you'd ever had about staying and living this life of torture slipped away and you finally knew you what you wanted.

That was the last straw for you to finally leave this place.

During these few weeks, the back and forth flirting with Will actually turned Into something. Something the two of you never did anything about and swept under a rug. Something that could be felt every time you stepped into that shop.

"Will you do me that honor?" The Viscount asked as he held your hands.

You stared at him for a few seconds before turning your stare to the sea. You watched the boats for a few seconds, letting a soft breeze pass you.

"Excuse me." You said before dropping his hands and leaving towards the city, leaving a confused Viscount on the side of the water.

You tried to run as fast as you could, dropping your hat on the way and leaving your shoes scattered somewhere in port royal.

You ran through the paved streets and right into Will’s shop. You found him, sharpening the blade of your sword, he was too focused on his work to notice you walking inches close to him.

"Hi?" He asked as he saw the closeness between the two of you. You were trying to catch your breath, your chest rising and lowering as your corset made it harder to breathe. Your bright blue dress caught Will’s eye as he had rarely seen you dressed like a ‘proper’ lady. He didn’t have time to admire the golden embroideries of it before you closed the gap between the two of you, crashing your lips to his. Will opened his eyes in surprise before closing them and melting into your kiss.

He snaked an arm around your waist bringing you even closer to him as you placed a hand in his hair.

You pulled away trying to steady your breath before slightly speaking up.

"Run away with me."

- Tag List -

@averyfosterthoughts @slytherinambitious @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes

#will turner #will turner x reader #will turner x you #will turner x y/n #will #will turner imagine #Jack Sparrow #Black Pearl #pirates of the caribbean #pirate of the caribbean #pirate #x reader #fan fiction #port royal #elizabeth swann #william turner

267 notes · View notes

rosyredlipstick · 4 years

Note

Would it be possible for you to write a Conchell fic for me? Quarantine is really getting me down, and I hope you’re staying safe and healthy. Could you write something maybe where one (or a few?) of Mitchell’s siblings gets in a fight w him or gets mad at him and he gets really sad and is crying. And Connor comforts him and then tells the sibling(s) off until they apologize? I love protective Connor

i left my apartment for the first time in 2 weeks for a cat food run. i understand where you’re coming from anon, hope you’re doing well xoxo.

also, I couldn’t write anything BUT a cabin quarantine fic. sorry!!

They had been stuck inside for five hours now, and they were near their breaking point.

Ever since that mysterious purple fog that drifted out from the--whatever, the Hermes kids had been working on at Arts & Crafts, they’d been stuck inside.

The Aphrodite cabin had just been getting ready for horseback riding when it happened. Connor had shrugged his counselor’s duties off on Travis for the day, so he had tagged along with the Aphrodite cabin to “annoy Sebastian and hog Mitchell’s attention”--his own words--when Chiron’s megaphoned order to take shelter in the cabins until further notice! had echoed across the camp.

That was five hours ago. Now, late into the afternoon and much past dinnertime, they were at the breaking point.

Sebastian and Piper had been snippy with each other for the last hour, and Stefan and Drew couldn’t stop exchanging glares. Every time Lacey and Sophia burst into a loud bit of laughter, Micah looked up from his thick fantasy novel to shoot them an annoyed look. Valentina had put in her headphones around twenty minutes ago but, before that, had kept rubbing at her twitching eye--a headache, most likely.

Mitchell, curled on a top bunk, had been keeping track of it all despite Connor’s, who was also curled on the top bunk with him, best efforts at distraction.

“Wow,” Connor clicked his tongue as he dragged his marker across the mini whiteboard. “Another win for me.”

Mitchell gave him a small, but anxious smile. He clenched at his uncapped marker. “Oh, you’re just too good at this for me.”

“What can I say,” Connor wiped off the ink with his sleeve and redrew the same overlapping four lines. “I’m a tic-tac-toe king.”

Connor drew a small O--the top middle, the worst place to start. Mitchell added an X to the middle.

Mitchell had bodily shoved each of his siblings back into the cabin--they had begun to spill out on the porch to watch in amusement as Connor waxed upon all the things they could dash off to do if they skipped out on their duties. He had curled his hand into Connor’s sweatshirt in panic and pulled with an unforeseen strength until he was up the steps, in the cabin, and Mitchell had slammed the door after them. On the hillside, he saw dark purple fog rippling across the grass. He and Piper sealed the windows, Connor stuffed a towel under the door frame, and they all tried to breathe around the adrenaline.

Mitchell added another X to the board.

He flexed his hand. Connor’s sweatshirt was still wrinkled.

Another X.

For the third time in five minutes, Scarlett let out a loud huff of frustration. She’d been pacing for the past few minutes but no one had said anything yet--they all knew it was bound to bubble up soon enough. He glanced down at the board. Despite Connor’s best efforts, Mitchell was still losing.

Mitchell shot Connor an apologetic look as he capped his marker and passed it over so he could climb down the bunk. Connor, of course, followed.

“Scarlett,” Mitchell asked, leaning against the wall. Connor’s shoulder brushed his own. “Are you okay?”

Scarlett threw her hands in the air, “What the fuck kind of question is that? We can’t fucking leave the cabin, of course, I’m not okay! What’s going on out there? Why haven’t we heard anything?”

Piper stood from her bunk and shared a look with Mitchell before she spoke, “They’re probably just busy dealing with whatever out there. Annabeth said things are fine, they’re just making sure it’s safe to go out.”

Scarlett stopped in her pacing just to give Piper a disgusted look, “How can things be ‘fine’ if we’re still not allowed to leave?”

Mitchell took a breath, “We’re all feeling cooped up, Scarlett. I think you’re just freaking out -”

“Freaking out?” Scarlett yelled, “Oh, and you’re the picture of calm? All you’ve been doing since this happened is freaking out to your boyfriend who, in case you forgot, is the reason we’re all stuck in here in the first place!”

Behind them, Drew didn’t hesitate to scoop up Sabrina in a smooth movement, threw her over her shoulder, and grabbed Sophia and Lacey each by a wrist to drag them into their large closet, her expression hard as Scarlett’s voice rose in volume. Micah followed, his hand tight on Stefan’s shoulder to pull him in.

Piper waited until the closet door was snug shut behind their youngest siblings before facing Scarlett. “Cabins are in lockdown until Chiron gives us further notice,” Piper said calmly. “We’re stuck together for now, so picking fights won’t do us any good.”

“I’m not ‘picking a fight,’” Scarlett mocked, “I’m just stating the obvious!”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?” Sebastian drawled out, looking bored as he examined his nails. Scarlett glared at him.

“Yes. This is the Hermes cabin’s fault, and now we’re stuck in the cabin with a fucking Stoll.” She threw her hands in the air again, an explosion. “All because poor baby Mitchell has to spend every waking moment with him and can’t go 10 minutes being his own person.” She crossed her arms, “Gods, can’t you exist on your own? Are you really that pathetic that you can’t-”

“Alright-”

“Scarlett-”

Mitchell pulled back with a wordless hurt expression, his siblings talking over each other. He clenched his hands. Can’t you exist on your own?

Gods, Scarlett knew to hit where it hurt, even in the midst of all this anxiety.

Sebastian was in her face now, like they were want to do in their biggest blow-out fights. They hadn’t had one of those in a while.

Mitchell turned away from them, extremely aware of how they were probably all looking at him but there was nowhere else he could go. He sniffled and tried to take a few deep breaths around his tight throat.

Connor appeared in front of him, his siblings going quiet behind them.

“Hey, babe,” he said casually and smooth, identical to his everyday greeting as he came up behind Mitchell to tuck his hand in his pocket, or every time Mitchell walked into the Hermes cabin. “What’s up?”

Mitchell looked up at him--he wasn’t crying, but his face was definitely ready for it with red cheeks, watery eyes. “I’m so stressed,” he only said very, very quietly--just for Connor. “And this is making it worse.”

Connor looked him over, his eyes going over every inch of Mitchell’s face, before nodding briskly and leaning in to press a quick kiss to Mitchell’s forehead. “I’ve got this. Wanna wash your face?”

Mitchell almost burst into tears at that alone--the fact Connor knew exactly what he liked to do after crying, what would refresh him and let him step back from the stress for just a few moments.

Mitchell nodded and miserably walked off, letting the door click behind him as Connor watched him.

And when Connor turned back to the rest of the cabin, he was grinning.

“Hey Scarlett,” He said, his voice perfectly even and composed. “We’re not going to be yelling at each other anymore, okay?”

Of course, that only set Scarlett off in a pattern of cursing and snarling, her perfect face screwed up tight with anger, rage, and an undercurrent of anxiety. Gods, they were all so stressed.

“Okay,” Connor said, his lips still perked up in a calm smile. “We’re gonna take some breaths then, okay? Breathe with me -”

Scarlett let out a twinkling laugh, “Tell me what to do in my own cabin one more fucking time, Stoll. I dare you.”

“Guys,” Valentina’s eyes shot toward the closet door. “Try to keep your voices down.”

Scarlett rolled her eyes, “Oh, yeah, that’s definitely what we should be worried about right now. Good thinking, Val.” Valentina wilted slightly as Connor’s eyes sharpened.

“There’s no need to speak that way to your family, Scarlett,” Connor said her name firmly, no trace of humor in his voice. “You need to take five. Chill out in your bunk with some headphones, or we can clear out the closet and you can take some alone time.”

“I”m not going in the closet for a fucking time out.”

“Okay,” Connor agreed easily. “That’s fine. But you can’t blow up at us because you’re stressed.” He took a small breath, “I take responsibility for my sibling’s action. I don’t know exactly what they did, but I know that they would never want to seriously hurt anyone. This is all probably just precaution against like,” He made a loose gesture with one hand. “A laughing gas prank gone wrong.”

Impossibly, that seemed to calm her just the slightest. Connor continued, his voice gentle. He could hear running water in the bathroom.

“I am not your sibling and no one can tell you what to do,” Connor stated, staring her down. “But I think you should apologize to your brother when he comes out.”

Scarlett was shooting her siblings a bewildered look like are you backing him up on this? but they all just stared at her.

Sebastian crossed his arms, unimpressed. “The fuck you waiting for?”

The rest of her siblings seemed to be thinking along similar lines, no one backing her up. Slowly, the fight drained out of her shoulders. She crossed her arms, almost looking tired. “Whatever. Fine.” She threw herself on her bunk, curling up a bit. “I’ll talk to him later.”

Piper turned back to him with an eyebrow raised, almost impressed. Connor shrugged happily.

“Alright,” Connor clapped his hands together. “Who wants to see if I can get the Hermes drones to deliver us some contraband snacks?”

“I’ll get the kids,” Asher muttered, “and the first aid kit.”

#my fic #conchell #rosy writes #anon

48 notes · View notes

barrydeutsch · 7 years

Photo

Cartoon: 36 Annoying Anti-Feminists

ETA: At least on my computer, the image on Tumblr is hard to read. There’s a larger, clearer image here.

Please support these cartoons on Patreon.

You may remember an earlier version of this cartoon, which had only 32 anti-feminists.

When this cartoon was first published, I got a lot of criticism. Some of it was the expected mindless anger (I hope you die, you’re just trying to get laid, etc etc) from the less intelligent anti-feminists. Some comments from the smarter anti-feminists were helpful (for instance, if a lot of people misread the same panel in the same way, that’s a panel I can clarify).

But the comments that really made me want to revise the cartoon came from feminists who reminded me of some anti-feminists I missed. (Indeed, on reading this, one of my housemate’s first comment was “where’s the bitter divorced guy?”) I had a little free time during my New York City trip, so I decided to add in four of the anti-feminists I missed last time. And while I was doing that, I thought I’d revise some of the old panels. For instance, in the first version of Mr. Buzzword, I somehow forgot to include the word “snowflake,” an omission that has bothered me ever since. :-)

(In one case – “the comparison shopper” – I completely redrew the art. The original drawing for that showed an angry character. Anger seemed like the wrong emotion entirely, so I drew a different character who was more snotty than angry. The original, angry character drawing got moved to the “kicker” panel below the bottom of the strip.)

If you want to just skip to the new ones, they are panels 31-35 – that is, the fifth-to-last to the second-to-last panels.

Transcript of cartoon is below the cut.

Transcript of cartoon: Title At Top of Cartoon: 36 Annoying Anti-Feminists you will meet on the internet

Panel 1 (A wide-eyed man wearing a plaid shirt waves his hands above his head to make it clear he’s talking about a BIG deal.) Panel Title: The Molehill Grower Man: A feminist on twitter got her punctuation wrong… Clearly the whole movement has no legitimacy!

Panel 2 (A scholarly looking man with reading glasses, a sweater vest and a pleasant demeanor raises one hand in a “just explaining things” manner.) Panel Title: The Economist Man: Sexism can’t exist, because the free market is perfect! So if employers pay women less, women must be worth less!

Panel 3 (A quivering man with huge eyes and a very intense expression holds up a diagram showing a midsection; three arrows on the diagram point to a tiny dot within the midsection.) Panel Title: The Fetusphile Man: This is a zygote! It matters infinitely more than its oven does!

Panel 4 (A scruffy-looking man with a grumpy expression stands in a spotlight, speaking into a handheld microphone.) Panel Title: The Comedian Man: Feminists only criticize my “edgy” rape jokes because they have no sense of humor!

Panel 5 (A suit-wearing man with carefully styled hair and a devout expression holds a bible to his heart. In he backgrund, a woman clutches her hands together in an “oh please” expression.) Panel Title: God Told Him So Man: Feminism tells women to leave their husbands, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians! Woman: Where do I sign?

Panel 6 (A man with glasses and a sad expression, cartoon sweat droplet flying from his face, is looking at book with the title “Yearbook” and yelling with an anguished expression.) Panel Title: Not Yet Over High School Man: Why wouldn’t the hot girls date me? WHHYYY?

Panel 7 (A young, fit-looking guy wearing a sweatshirt shrugs with bewilderment.) Panel Title: The Douchebro Man: Find out if she wants sex before I f**k her? How would that even work?

Panel 8 (A man with a long white beard, sunglasses, and a short buzzcut, stand with his arms crossed.) Panel Title: The Scholar Man: After extensive pursual of Wikipedia, I fail to see any difference between feminists and Nazis!

Panel 9 (A slightly smug-looking young woman in a striped shirt stands smiling, holding up a sign that says “I’m not a feminist because I don’t hate men!”) Panel Title: The Good Girl

Panel 10 (A young man with long hair in a ponytail and a short chin-only beard addresses the viewer cheerfully while holding a pen and notepad.) Panel Title: The Rationalist Man: My objective logic proves white men objectively deserve everything we have because we’re so super objective!

Panel 11 (A young woman stands, holding a beer and looking a bit annoyed, as a young man holds up a finger to indicate “wait” while reading a book with the title “How To Pick Up Girls.”) Panel Title: The Pick-Up Artist Man: It says to “neg” you now.

Panel 12 (A man sits at a computer, waving his fists, cartoon sweat droplets flying, apparently overcome with fury.) Panel Title: The Gamergater Man: How dare feminists say some gamers are sexist? @#%*ing whores!

Panel 13 (A 30ish man with a small beard and his nose stuck high in the air is speaking, arms folded.) Panel Title: The Comparison Shopper Man: U.S. Women should be embarassed to whine about “sexism” when Saudi Arabia is so much worse! Arrow-shaped caption pointing to man: Deeply distressed by anti-male bias in “Harry Potter.”

Panel 14 (A middle-aged man wearing a bathrobe and sunglasses grins while holding a glass of wine.) Panel Title: Creepy Man: When you think about it, it’s natural that teen girls are attracted to middle-aged men. Wanna see my hot tub?

Panel 15 (A young man spreads his hands wide, in an “oh come on!” sort of gesture.) Panel Title: Won’t Get Fooled Again Man: If females aren’t liars, then why do they wear makeup? Huh? Why? Explain!

Panel 16 (A man with stubble and spikey hair, and weird wide eyes, a huge scowling mouth, and fist held balled up at shoulder height, is yelling. He trembles with rage.) Panel Title: Mr Buzzword Man: PC militant misandrist cultural Marxist gynocentric authoritarian cuck snowflack SJW gender troglodytes!

Panel 17 (A 30ish man with short black hair speaks angrily towards the viewer. In the background, a cheerful young woman stands, arms akimbo.) Panel Title: Going His Own Way Man: This 20 year old doesn’t want to sleep with me so I’m giving up women forever! Woman: Promises, promises…

Panel 18 (A young man stands with his back mostly to the viewer, trembling with suppressed emotion. We can see a bit of his face; he has a distressed expression, and is trembling.) Panel Title: The Open Wound Man: Hearing people defend feminism is so painful it might kill me! …I demand that you defend feminism!

Panel 19 (A young man, wearing a tank top with a “male symbol” circle and arrow on it, points straight at the viewer and has an accusing expression.) Panel Title: He’s Rubber, You’re Glue Man: Feminazis are the real misogynists!

Panel 20 (A nicely-dressed woman with cats eye glasses and a fashionable haircut holds up a finger to make a point.) Panel Title: The That’s Not Real Rape Lady Woman: But if she didn’t say “no” a fifth time, then…

Panel 21 (A man with messy hair yells hugely into the air.) Panel Title: Back Away Slowly Man: Females have conspired to lower men’s sperm counts!

Panel 22 (A man with a very intense expression and a t-shirt that says “Red Pill” speaks to the viewer.) Panel Title: Back Away Quickly Man: Women control the sexual market so I am forced to “go alpha” and “take control” in a way that just barely falls short of rape!

Panel 23 (A smiling man with a dark suit and slicked-back hair speaks, looking relaxed and confident.) Panel Title: The SpokesMAN Man: As a man, I know all real men hate feminism! Because that’s how manly men roll!

Panel 24 (We see a door with wooden planks nailed across it to lock it closed. Next to the door a sign has been taped to the wall, which says “keep OUT!” There is a slot in the door; a voice comes out from the slot.) Panel Title: Wee Bit Paranoid Voice: THEY’RE COMING FOR OUR PORN!

Panel 25 (A cheerful young man with curly hair sits in front of a laptop computer.) Panel Title: The Amazing Twitterman! Man: I will prove this feminist wrong by tweeting an anonymous rape threat!

Panel 26 (A balding man, looking honestly bewildered, holds out a hand in explanation.) Panel Title: It’s Science! Man: How can feminists deny that women evolved to love dusting? Clearly they’re anti-science!

Panel 27 (A man, very close up, screams in the viewers face, wide mouth and sweat droplets flying.) Panel Title: The Swiss Army Knife Of Hate Man: Feminazis! And race pimps! And moose limbs! And Jews! And…

Panel 28 (A woman, smiling, stands in an enormous pile of money. From off-panel, a hand shoots out, holding papers out to her.) Panel Title: The Anti-Feminist Feminist Woman: Speaking as a feminist, feminism is evil! Oh, look, another book contract.

Panel 29 (A young man is talking at a woman in the foreground, waving his hands around his head.) Panel Title: The Subject Changer Man: And speaking of whatever it is you’re talking about, male circumcision is worse than Hitler!

Panel 30 (An older, professorial man, holding a pipe, looks down his nose at the viewer.) Panel Title: The Traditionalist Man: Women hold jobs now? I despair for the ruin of our once-great society…

Panel 31 (A muscular man speaks, smiling and relaxed and perhaps a bit smug.) Panel Title: The Anti-Male Anti-Feminist Man: Men can’t be expected to refrain when women wear short skirts… because all men are beasts!

Panel 32 (A sock puppet of a young woman with a striped hoodie is being held up, the arm of the person holding it coming up from below the bottom of the panel.) Panel Title: The Sock Puppet Puppet: Brad is right! Feminazis do hate men! So says I, a total stranger who just happened to come across this discussion.

Panel 33 (A well-dressed man with glasses speaks, eyebrows knitted with anger.) Panel Title: The “Divorce Opened My Eyes” Guy Man: The government forces me to pay child support. Now I see that men are slaves.

Panel 34 A somewhat hippie-looking guy – long hair in a ponytail, plaid shirt – is speaking, a smile on his face, but with condescending body language. Panel Title: The Marxist Man: I strongly support feminism! (Until it distracts from actually important issues like class.)

Panel 35 (A person with ambiguous gender speaks very intensely, one finger pointing into the air to make a point.) Panel Title: The Free Speech Purist Person: Accusing others of sexism is trying to shut them up which is censorship! Which is why you should shut up.

Panel 36 (An intense man, reading off an incredibly long list he holds up in one hand, glares at another man in the foreground.) Panel Title: The Cartoon Critic INTENSE MAN: It’s a list of 406 ways your vomit-worthy travesty of a “cartoon” is dishonest, deceitful and full of lies!

Kicker panel below bottom of strip. (And older, very angry man in a striped shirt shakes his fist in the air as he speaks.) Man: He only made this cartoon because he’s hoping it’ll get him laid! Pathetic cuck loser!

#political cartoons #social jutice #feminism #anti-feminists #parody #political cartoon

126 notes · View notes

ask-oven · 7 years

Text

This is a story request by @charlottebrulee It turned out a bit longer than I imagine.

Timeline: July thirty two years ago

“Come on Borscht, this plan is foolproof,” said Alistair as they were up in the tree tops.

“For the thousandth time no, Alistair it’s against the rule,” replied the second husband.

“Bugger the rule, these are our kids we’re talking about. They deserve to know us,” said the newest member.

Forge came up the elevator as .the conversation was going on. “Hey Malbec,” he said to another husband who was listening to the argument, “he still going about his rescue plan?”

“Yes,” sighed Malbec, “you’ve got to admire their passion when they first come here.”

Forge nodded, “So how is this one different?”

“All of us are going to sabotage the cameras and alarms, take out the soldiers, fight Linlin, and take our kids and leave.”

“I take it our freedom is happy bonus,” laughed Forge.

“Pretty much,” shrugged Malbec.

“I’m telling you we can do it, there’s nine of us and only one Linlin,” said Alistair.

“And as I’ve told you repeatedly, you greatly overestimate our strength,” replied Borscht annoyed, “Now, I want you to get this ideas of seeing your daughter out of your head. You’ve been here for a week, yes?”

Alistair looked down at the ground angrily, “Yes.”

“Good, it’s time you started pulling your weight, you’ll be on night watch with Iago,” ordered Borscht.

Malbac and Forge’s eyes got big as they listened to this order. “Oh man, that’s frightening,” whispered Forge.

“I know. I think I actually cried the first time I was left alone with him,” Malbec whispered back.

Alistair looked at Borscht not hearing Forge and Malbec. “Who the devils is Iago?”

“I am,” whispered a voice from behind him.

The other three men nearly jumped out of their skins at the whisper. Alistair turned around and faced the man, “My name is Alistair, adventurer, swashbuckler, romancer of women, enjoyer of fine foods and wines, and all around gentleman.” He gave a hearty grin, “I see that you must be Daifuku’s father. Those features and eyes don’t lie. However I must tell your son is little albino git.”

As soon as he blinked a knife was on his neck, “Never insult my son,” whispered Iago, “It’ll be the last thing you’ll ever do, adventurer,” came a deadly whisper.

“Duly noted,” gulped Alistair. Iago redrew his knife and continued on his way. All four men rubbed their necks. “Charming fellow,” said Alistair, “a great ally for my plan.”

“Enough of your foolish plan!” yelled Borscht, “Get some rest, you’re gonna need it.” Then each man went their separate ways.

As night fell Alistair made his way to his the watch post from hearing the others talk, Iago was definitely the man he needed. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot,” he said as he sat down.

Iago stood in a corner not saying a word just looking out at the horizon.

Alistair continued, “You have a reputation around camp. They say you were fathered by lighting and nursed by a wild she bear, trained at a young age to be an assassin. What an amazing life.”

Iago looked out into the night not saying a word.

“So you love your son? Well you see, he has a new baby sister, my daughter. She’s more beautiful than all the jewels in the world. I have this plan if you’re willing to hear it.”

Iago reached into his pocket and pulled out a nye. He put it to his lips and started to play. “Ah so you’re going to entertain us with some music.” The song almost sounded like a lullaby. “Mind if you tell my plan?” Alistair asked. Iago continued play. So Alistair took that as a yes so he began to explain.

Iago stopped playing whenever the new man was done explaining his plan. He put his nye back in his pocket and said above a whisper, “Take Borscht’s advice you’re plan is foolish and risky. None of us are willing to sacrifice our children’s lives for just one more chance to hold them. Now be quiet and watch the horizon for homies and soldiers.”

Alistair nodded not wanting to provoke this man’s wrath and did as he was told. “You’re all wrong,” he thought, “my plan won’t fail. Why I’ll go myself and prove you lot wrong.”

The next night Alistair enacted his plan. He broke into the supply closet and stole: A grappling hook, some rope, two revolvers, and a blanket. “I’m coming my little jewel,” he said to himself. He climbed down from the tree tops. As he walked away from camp he could feel Iago’s eyes on him. He turned around wondering if the assassin was behind him. He sighed when he saw no one then he yelled, “I’m an adventurer, Iago, it’s in my soul to find and confront danger!”

He was only answered by the rustling of the leaves. He walked out into the forest. Thankfully all the homies were asleep. “Phase one complete,” he thought.

He walked across the field to the castle and thought of the wonderful things he and his daughter would do together once they were free. “I’m going to change her name to Jewel, much prettier than Brulee. We’ll sail the seas together. She’ll know how to man a ship before she can walk, by gum,” he grinned to himself.

He made it the wall of the castle. He took off the grappling hook and threw it over the wall. It stuck and he climbed over. A snail went off. Alistair silenced it with two shots from one of the revolvers. “Phase two complete. Now onto the nursery so that me and my little jewel of the sea can escape.”

“Hey what are you doing?” asked a guard who tried to stop him however he was down for the count in the blink of an eye.

“Going to see my daughter,” Alistair answered. So far his luck was holding out great. “Wait until the others see me,” he thought. He took the guard’s armor and put it on. It was a bit short, but the plan was a touch hasty. He followed the rest of the guards into the castle. Once inside he broke off and went find his daughter.

He about to climb the stairs when a small voice said, “Peacekeepers aren’t allowed in the castle.” He stopped and turned around and saw one of his stepsons, Perospero. “Go back to the barracks,” said the boy.

“I’m sorry, young master I can’t do that,” said Alistair as lifted his helmet and gave a roguish wink.

Then Perospero smiled, “Papa Alistair?” Alistair nodded. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to get my little jewel back we’re going to leave this place and move on to the next grand adventure.”

The boy’s smile turned to a frown, “It’s impossible, Mama and the head chef have the castle littered with cameras and such.”

Alistair bent down and ruffled the boy’s hair, “Ah you just need to have a bit more faith boy. Now march up to bed and don’t tell your Ma that you saw me.”

Perospero hesitated for a moment then agreed, “Okay night Papa.” He went up the stairs.

Once the boy was gone, Alistair continued to his mission. “Now where is the nursery?” he thought. He then remembered all the times he was sent to hold Cracker, “There’s the rub of it all, you get to hold some stranger’s kid, but you only hold your own once.” Again his luck held as he made to the nursery. There was his daughter, even more beautiful then he remembered. The babe reached up to him, happy to see someone. “There’s my little jewel of the sea,” he whispered as he picked her up. Brulee cooed and reached up to him.

Alistair almost cried, “No tears until we’re far away from this place,” he told himself. He placed his daughter in the blanket and put it around his neck and shoulders, “You ready to go on adventure Jewel?” His daughter cooed.

He was about to leave when the lights came on, “I knew someone broke into the castle,” said a voice.

Alistair turned around and was greeted by the head chef. “Ah Strussy,” said Alistair, “how long have been here?”

“Long enough, now put the baby back and go back to the forest. Tell none of the others of what happened here,” replied Struesen, “Also don’t call me Strussy.”

Alistair pulled out a revolver, “What if I refuse, Strussy?”

“Then you will be placed in the dungeon and eventually killed,” calmly answered Struesen.

“I do not fear death,” Alistair lied.

Strusen sighed, “Have it your way Alistair.” He pressed a snail and in mere seconds hundreds of peacekeepers were behind him.

Alistair placed Brulee back in her cradle, “Papa is going teach the evil men a lesson,” he grinned. Brulee simply cooed unaware of what what was being said. Alistair turned, cocked his gun and said, “Do your worst you blagards.”

He quickly lost all of his shot. He then resorted to using his fits and haki, which proved pointless. The peacekeepers were on him before he could blink. He could see that he wounded a couple of them. He grinned at his mild success.

Then Strusen walked over to him with a grin of his own and said, “I’m sorry, but you have failed. Oh it was a valiant effort, but in the end I win.” He turned to the soldiers that were holding Alistair, “Take him to the dungeon.”

“I will not go quietly into that good night,” spat Alistair as he was dragged away from his daughter.

Epilouge

Alistair didn’t know how long he had been in that dungeon. Days? Months? Years? He had been fed sure but just barely to stay alive. He never regretted his plan. Suddenly the light hit his eyes. “Alright, Mont-D’or for your first task with your new fruit, I want you to stuff this rat into a book,” said Struesen.

Strusen had aged greatly. This boy Mont-D’or was young, probably ten or twelve. He walked up to Alistair’s cage carrying a book and said, “I’m sorry mister.”

Alistair grinned and said, “I don’t blame ya boy.” They exchanged a few words.

Mont-D’or sighed and stuffed this stranger into the book. He walked over to Struesen book in hand and handed the book to the old man. “Well what did he say?” asked the head chef.

“He didn’t blame me,” answered the boy, “Also to tell you that he will have his revenge and he will see his little jewel again.”

Struesen looked down at the book and said, “Over my dead body.” Strusen then walked to Linlin’s collection room and placed the book on the shelf. Until one fateful wedding day.

#charlotte brulee #op fanfiction

1 note · View note