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#the real question is what do those best man speeches look like
tennessoui · 5 months
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hello hello! I just spent pretty much the entire day reading backwards from post #1 on your blog for the kuwsk tag. screaming, crying, giggling, throwing up.. the whole nine yards really! two immediate things on my mind: 1) I REALLY need someone to draw obi wan fondly watching sick anakin on the couch with a sleeping luke and barely awake leia, face and arms covered in (hello kitty) band aids. 2) I desperately need to know what their wedding vows said please I beg. tysm for this amazing verse!
ahhh this is so sweet !! I can’t help you with the first thing cause I’m really not great at drawing but I agree that I would love the fuck out of a picture of that moment + the following moment when obi-wan puts anakin to bed and he pretends that they’re dancing in the living room when the twins ask because he can’t fess up to having let them drug their father lmao
but the second thing!! That’s a great question I bet their wedding vows are really soppy. Obi-Wan probably thanks him for giving him a family and also for the infinite amount of patience and kindness anakin showed him until he figured out he could want happiness and love in his life again & anakin’s vows start by thanking obi-wan for waking the fuck up and realizing he deserved happiness and it was already living down the hall from him lol
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chamiryokuroi · 11 months
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My thoughts on Tim Drake: Robin #10 heavy spoilers under the cut
First of all got to say it wasn’t a bad ending if we consider they had to wrap up this arc in such a short amount of time, gotta give it to Meghan she managed to figure out a way to answer as many questions as possible and give us a relatively good ending for a series that I feel was canceled with no reason.
You can definitely feel that the story was planned to be done in more issues, the building blocks are all there for an amazing arc and it is sad we had to condense it all in one issue.
Now into a more in depth analysis of the comic of my favorite parts.
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The Labyrinth was such and interesting point I wish we could have seen more of, specially with the fact this is the cult if Dionysus.
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I absolutely adore the fact that Bernard is fully aware of Tim’s identiry because we get such funny interactions like this where Pie honestly thinks Tim is cheating on Bernard with Robin, and that panel of Bernard laughing because of that is one of my favorites for sure, boy is having so much fun, as he should.
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Now in a more serious tone, this two panels tells us so much of how Tim feels, how insecure he is of his own place, not only on his family, but in the world as a whole. That second panel specifically where we see Bernard having fun while Tim is just on the bg, knowing how hard it must be for Tim to wrap his head around his sexuality even now, a year after coming out and starting dating Bernard, this feels realistic, sometimes when you come out later in life it feels as if you do not fit exactly with the community, and it can be hard to find your place.
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If I had a nickel for every time a creepy cult tried to recruit Tim into their ranks I would have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it is weird that it keeps happening.
This is honestly another point that feels like it was meant to be explored for longer before the cancelation notice came. At least it gives us an explanation of why Kate was acting the way she was, it took me a while to get it but basically after Tim saved Bernard from the cult back in Urban Legends Kate went around hunting down those that managed to escape, one of them being the son of this man that appears to be the leader of the cult, the son then took his own life and Kate was taken into the labyrinth, were we know Tim was being pumped with some hallucinogen gas of some sort, depending on how long she was on the labyrinth before managing to escape that might explain her memory loss, again this is all theorizing with what we are given since there wasn’t much space for it to be explain as it should.
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And now we go back to Bernard who is looking around for Tim, going to all the people that knew him as Robin, and then those words “Tim takes care of everyone… but sometimes he needs someone to take care of him” hits me straight on the feels, Bernard is such a supportive boyfriend, he is definitely what Tim needs, someone that is there for him, not only for Tim, but also Robin.
Also the fact that Bernard is making his own homemade bat-signal with his hands is just adorable to me. Boy could had probably drove to Bruce’s house, but he doesn’t need Bruce’s help right now, he needs Batman.
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And of course Batman responds. Bruce why were you following Bernard? Anyways, yet another great speech from Bernard “I thought you might be a ghost. Or you weren’t real. But the truth is you look sort of normal. Like regular-people normal.” Leave it to Bernard to understand exactly what Batman is, just a normal man trying to help as best as he can.
And then he says Tim needs help, not Robin, Tim. This is just Bernard out right telling Bruce “I know, and I don’t care, because Tim is in problem and you got to find him”
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And then we get the best thing, Bernard, and Tim’s friends and family, rushing in to save him, just as he was losing hope of managing to leave the labyrinth alive. Absolutely in love with Bernard’s long ass coat.
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And then we get to my favorite page. The uncertainty if it is really him or another hallucination, the confirmation that it is him, it is Bernard, here to save Tim. The hug, the way Tim is holding Bernard’s face, the only thing that would had made this better would had been a kiss.
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And then we get to the ending, not much to say here, I just love these two pages, Tim just finally realizing he doesn’t need to be anyone else, that he can be himself and that he is right where he belong, and that he can be happy with that. The best ending we could have hope for with what we were allowed to have.
There are obviously many questions left unanswered.
What was exactly the Cult of Dionysus? Where did it came from?
What’s going on with Bernard’s parents?
What’s up with Moriarty? Who was his boss? What was his deal with Robin/Tim??
I am sad TD:R ended the way it did, had it been given the time to develop I feel it would had gotten better. But I am glad we managed to get as much as we did, now we just have to wait and see what will DC do now with Tim, and if Bernard will stay relevant or will they brush him under the rug.
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goodnightmemes · 6 months
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MOCKINGJAY - PART TWO (2015) SENTENCE STARTERS
❛ My family hasn't come to see me. ❜
❛ You can't trust her! She's a monster! ❜
❛ I wanna help the rebels in any way I can. ❜
❛ That's not [name]. ❜
❛ I don't stand a chance if he doesn't get better. You'll never let him go. ❜
❛ That's like kissing someone who's drunk. Doesn't count. ❜
❛ I guess there are no rules anymore about what a person can do to another person. ❜
❛ We took heavy losses. ❜
❛ You think of it like a wolf den. You're not gonna fight your way in, so you've got two choices. You trap the wolves inside, or you flush 'em out. ❜
❛ There's gotta be a better way. ❜
❛ Even if those civilians are just moppin' floors, they're helping the enemy. And if they have to die, I can live with that. ❜
❛ With that kinda thinking, you can kill whoever you want. ❜
❛ Sometimes killing isn't personal. Figured if anyone knew that, it was you. ❜
❛ I, of all people, know that it's always personal. ❜
❛ Give me one reason I shouldn't shoot you. ❜
❛ I guess that's the problem, isn't it? We each have every reason to want to kill each other. So if you wanna kill me, do it. ❜
❛ I am done being a piece in his game. ❜
❛ These people are not your enemy. ❜
❛ He corrupts everyone and everything. He turns the best of us against each other. Stop killing for him. ❜
❛ You have a habit of burying people before they're dead. ❜
❛ We toasted a glorious era coming to its bitter end. ❜
❛ Oh, that speech you gave. Oh, man, feel - I mean, I still have goosebumps. ❜
❛ What about you? You feeling totally safe? ❜
❛ So what are your injuries? ❜
❛ I mean, it's everybody's job to keep you alive. ❜
❛ Is that why you hate me? ❜
❛ Feel free to take any of this personally. ❜
❛ They messed us up pretty good, didn't they? ❜
❛ He's strapped down. He can't hurt you. ❜
❛ It doesn't matter what you want. It's for [name]. ❜
❛ I watched you die. ❜
❛ I was never the nice one. You were. ❜
❛ Why would I take a beating like that for you? ❜
❛ [name] says that everything that comes out of your mouth is a lie. ❜
❛ People said you loved me. ❜
❛ We're very familiar with each other's screams. ❜
❛ I'm going to kill [name]. Nothing good is safe while he's alive. ❜
❛ He needs to see my eyes when I kill him. ❜
❛ Anybody can kill anybody. Even a president. You just have to be willing to sacrifice yourself. ❜
❛ This isn't just adolescent, it's insubordination. ❜
❛ From what I see here, we've already made history. But history doesn't stop to celebrate. And we're facing an enemy that will not change and will never surrender.❜
❛ If we die, let it be for a cause and not a spectacle. ❜
❛ I know when you're gonna go off on your own. You gonna leave me behind, too? ❜
❛ You'll do whatever you're ordered to do, soldier. It's not your job to ask questions.❜
❛ In the event of capture, you'll be given a nightlock pill. A poison that acts immediately. ❜
❛ If it really came down to it, you think you could shoot him? ❜
❛ I'm plannin' for you to have a long life. ❜
❛ I've seen that look. You're trying to decide whether or not you should kill me. ❜
❛ I'm sorry. I just can't tell what's real and what's made up anymore. ❜
❛ This is a bad spot. We need to move now. ❜
❛ So now that we're dead, what are we gonna do? ❜
❛ It's only a matter of time before I snap again. I'm not in control. ❜
❛ If it gets to that point, I'll kill you myself. ❜
❛ Nobody knows we're alive. This is our chance. ❜
❛ Look at me. We're gonna get through this. I promise. ❜
❛ You're still trying to protect me. Real or not real? ❜
❛ That's what you and I do. Keep each other alive. ❜
❛ Stay with me. ❜
❛ Everyone that's dead is dead because of me. ❜
❛ I never meant for this to happen. I failed. I... I killed them. ❜
❛ If you end all of this, all those deaths, they mean something. ❜
❛ I have moments when I'm here. And my memories are getting better, but other times it's like I'm sleepwalking. ❜
❛ We got one shot. Let's make it count. ❜
❛ Let me come with you, okay? I can be a good distraction. ❜
❛ If I see you again, it's gonna be a different world. ❜
❛ I was hoping you'd find your way here. There are so many things we should discuss. ❜
❛ We both know I'm not above killing children. But I'm not wasteful. I take life for specific reasons. ❜
❛ I'm afraid we've both been played for fools. ❜
❛ Oh, my dear. I thought we'd agreed never to lie to each other. ❜
❛ You never came to see me. ❜
❛ All I know is that I was supposed to take care of your family. Now I'm sorry I couldn't. ❜
❛ Thirst for blood is a difficult urge to satisfy. ❜
❛ We need to stop viewing each other as enemies. ❜
❛ I'll say this for you, you don't disappoint. ❜
❛ You were exactly who I believed you were. ❜
❛ I'm sorry so much burden fell on you. I know you'll never escape it. But if I had to put you through it again for this outcome, I would. ❜
❛ I couldn't let you go without a proper goodbye. ❜
❛ We've all suffered so much. But we owe it to their memories and to our children to do our best with these lives. ❜
❛ You love me. Real or not real? ❜
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blog-of-hubris · 8 months
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Jujutsu Kaisen Chapter 238: Shinjuku Showdown, Part 19
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Oh boy oh boy. Another jjk chapter with Sukuna showing off why he is the KING of Curses. Beyond his strength, he speaks like a king to those he defeats, and his meaning is very esoteric.
I'm going to go full fanboy in this post, everyone, so please forgive me if you are here to hear bad things about jjk (you're weird, btw).
Perfection...Beautiful..
Kashimo looking at Sukuna with X-ray and seeing nothing but perfection is exactly what I feel looking at Gege.
But on a serious note.. Finally, seeing Sukuna's true form in action is insane!!! He looks so terrifying, and Kashimo knew that instantly. Sukuna not having any strain on his heart or lungs due to the build of his body is so damn impressive. I love seeing him flexing his perfection to Kashimo and then blitzes him.
I love this moment because it's showing how much Kashimo overestimated his ability to fight Sukuna. I knew Kashimo was a non factor, and Sukuna made it APPARENT. He literally showed Kashimo, he just was not that good, lol. (I was never a Kashimo fan, so this is nice for me).
Sukuna is quite truly beautiful. Gege gave him such a design to reflect him being the peak of jujutsu. I just want to say thank you to gege for following through so thoroughly on this.
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Then to go even farther and give us Sukuna's feats against the great sorcerers of the past was even better. He defeated the Sun, Moon, and Stars squad that Uro was once a leader of. I love Gege doing this type of stuff, man!
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If you remember, Uro's vision of calamity when talking to Yuta was Sukuna, and when Sukuna revived she knew it was him just based off his cursed energy. Gege made sure that all of this was continued by giving us more lore on Sukuna's final form.
It's these little things that really move me in story telling. Connects those dots for us!
We Are Loved Because We Are Strong
Sukuna's speeches to people after defeating them is becoming one of my favorite things in jujutsu kaisen. I already loved his moment with Jogo + his final words to Gojo, but now we can add Kashimo to this list, lol.
I love Sukuna mentioning Yozoru's words to Kashimo, because it directly reflects the short conversation we saw between Kashimo and Kenjaku. Kashimo wanted to go against Sukuna to feel fulfilled. Initially, I took this as a warrior fighting for the fulfillment of a real fight, or a true fight to the death. Kashimo is similar Gojo, where he felt all the surrounding sorcerers were below him, causing him to separate himself as an entity. However, this was dissatisfying for Kashimo. The difference between him/Gojo and Sukuna, is that the king of curses accepted that as a fact of life. Due to this fact, he saw the world as his playground, and anything that went against his desires were to be destroyed.
“You know the answer you seek, you just can't comprehend it, right..?”
I love this quote by sukuna. Implying that kashimo knew all along the answer to his soul's dilemma.
“Is strength solitude”?
That question is always known by the strong, but I think sukuna's lesson was to deeper understand how to live as the strong.
“You were strong”
I see this as sukuna reminding kashimo that because of his strength, love should be known. Those under you will love you because you are strong. He goes on to tell kashimo that the ones who challenged him did not do so to curse him, but to be recognized and to validate themselves. That itself is love, or maybe an easier word to translate it would be “admiration”.
Admiration however is a product of love. That is how sukuna connects with those below him. I believe Uraume is the example of this, as he/she has been by sukuna's side for seemingly the longest. That love Uraume has is most likely the best execution of love sukuna can have for one below him.
(it makes me wonder why uraume is so special)
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Telling kashimo that he was strong, but also lamenting is greedy. Wow, sukuna... when you think about it, sukuna's outlook is very royal and fits that of a being existing on a higher frequency. What Sukuna is trying to relay, is that being the strongest comes with natural love (or being strong in general). It is when you begin to hate that strength or see it as a burden that you begin to lose sight of that love. Those around you love you for your strength, even those that challenge it have some form of admiration and search for recognition from that strength.
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This takes me to when Nanami said to Gojo that he also once believed they should just send him out on every mission. Gojo felt that he could never be understood, and that burden carried with him his entire adult life. Before, he had Geto who he saw as his equal, best friend and dare I say other half. That is why he wished that Geto was there, patting him on his back. Gojo felt separated from everyone, even if he loved them, he still felt isolated. I believe that Geto was Gojo's “love” and that is why he could never truly feel satisfaction.. He could never save Geto.
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(Sorry to go back to the sadness that is Gojo's separation from others as a human due to his exceptional skills as a sorcerer, but all of this ties in together so well).
Kashimo and Gojo both got “greedy”. They were strong, but also wanted to hate that strength instead of taking everything that came with it and finding true satisfaction within. Gojo felt pure isolation from his talent, while Kashimo felt lament because he could never have an equal. Both of these stemming from feeling the need for others to fulfill them, which is why Sukuna believes that...
Love is Useless...
Sukuna calls love useless. I find this so intriguing, because the “love” he spoke of was surrounded by the motif of “the strong”, and also he straight up says the thought of needing someone else to fulfill him never crossed his mind. He never thought that another person would give him the satisfaction he wanted, instead he put his desires first.
“I live according to my own stature. If that can't be measured or understood, that's not my problem”.
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MEGUMI? YOU HEAR THAT?!
My god i hope megumi is listening. I talk with @theanimepsychologist about megumi coming back and also how sukuna is possibly his golden shadow. To expound on this train of thought, I see all of this as Gege playing deeper into Sukuna's role as megumi's catalyst.
In simpler terms, I see Sukuna & Megumi's dynamic on the same level as Mahito & Yuji's. Mahito propelled Yuji's understanding of being a jujutsu sorcerer, while Yuji propelled Mahito as a curse. For Sukuna and Megumi, Sukuna saw Megumi's technique as something to gain. There could possibly be more he plans on doing with the ten shadows specifically, giving him an even more powerful arsenal than he had before.
For Megumi, Sukuna was the first to make him see himself as a stronger person. The words “why did you run away” stuck in megumi's mind from the first fearsome womb chapters. That was when he discovered he could place things in his shadow, and from there he began to elevate each arc.
Sukuna being in Megumi's body right now feels like a terrible journey of enlightenment for megumi. I find it interesting that sukuna states he was born cursed and unwanted. Megumi talks as if he was treated the same way, even believing his father is still alive living it up somewhere. Megumi has no idea he faced his father in shibuya, or that his dad wanted him to be something outside the zenin clan. Even if he did end up there, he believed megumi would be okay because he was talented. Megumi never saw himself as wanted by his family, and his cope for that was Tsumiki.
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Sukuna was different, he chased after his desires alone. He believed he could make himself happy, and that there was no one else who could fulfill that. Megumi losing Tsumiki is so difficult for him because he relied on Tsumiki as his heart and conscious. At first, megumi was indifferent, but expressed himself boldly. Tsumiki's positive outlook is what moved megumi, and that was all the family he had. Megumi isn't heartless as sukuna may naturally be, but his decision to save people has left him too selfless.
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For megumi to return, I need to see his understanding of self-worth change. He needs to see his strength and importance as an individual to truly understand the love that comes from being strong. In order to save people, you need strength, but you cannot develop that strength without having a stronger sense of self to dismantle any sparks that fly your way.
"Its okay to be selfish"
"A jujutsu sorcerer's growth never comes easy"
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(I could continue on about this megumi and sukuna connection but i think my point is made)
That is why Sukuna said love is useless. There is no need to look to another to satisfy yourself. To understand yourself is to understand your desires. And to be true to one's self is to chase after those desires without remorse. He hasn't changed a beat from when he spoke to Jogo, and I love consistency.
What Can You Do...Brat?
The final spread of the chapter was C R A Z Y! Uraume and Hakari break out of the domain with no damage on either person, while Higaruma and Yuij (with scales and claws??) begin to drop.
WTH?
My assumption is that they are going to try to get Sukuna into Higaruma's domain to win a trial and take away Sukuna's CT. This could work, but I'm worried that even without a CT, sukuna is still going to be very proficient in his raw CE usage unlike the other sorcerers Higaruma has faced. Maybe that is all they need to start the process to save megumi, or something else entirely crazy that only gege can come up with!
Truly endless possibilities.
Gege is continuing to Gege (whatever that means) and I will continue to not miss a beat. I believe we have a break coming up, so we will have to digest on this chapter a bit before we figure out what's going on!
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oddballwriter · 3 months
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Stranger Than Fiction
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Summary: Marc moves into a cabin in the woods to escape the risks of being found out as a werewolf but as he lives amongst nature and hears a few tales, he finds that he's not the only living piece of folklore around the forest.
Warnings: Werewolf nonsense. Mentions of forest spirits and fae. The reader is a forest spirit/fae type being in the forest. The reader is referred to using she and her and with fem-associated adjectives. Marc is kind of emo in the beginning but honestly, he's always been like that, like that's just how he is. Only Marc is here and there is no mention or implication of Steven or Jake.
Author’s Snip: I wrote this in one sitting late at night so if any of the grammar or sentences are weird then I'm sorry and also blame my grammar-checking software for not getting it.
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.
Word Count: 1,691
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Living in the middle of nowhere woods seems like it would be a given for a man inflicted with being a werewolf to live, but this would be the first time Marc has actually taken on that life. Regardless of the fact that he's from the city of Chicago, the exact opposite of a vast untouched green of nature. In the end, it was for the best, for everyone. He wouldn't run the risk of getting hunted down for what he is, and no one would panic over a wolf creature running loose in the city.
Marc wanted to fade away into the forest and live alone where the forest could hide him both when in and out of his monstrous state. He had found and bought a cabin property deep in the forests of southern Illinois, a very different place than he's used to, but he can adapt. He always has.
When he made it all the way there he got a good in-person look at it. It was nice. Homey. It would do well and he could see a comfortable living in it. It's far from the nearest official town but that's how he wanted it. It's far enough away that no one will bother him or catch the sight of him on a full moon. Even with the nearest cabin considered it was a good enough distance. It was perfect. He could hide here.
Marc did have to meet his 'neighbor', so to speak. He was the man who lived in the cabin nearest to him, as mentioned before. He came saying that he was aware that someone new had come along and wanted to give him a warm welcome. Although Marc wasn't much of a social person he decided to humor the man since he had driven the whole way here and came bearing gifts. Those gifts were food from his personal garden saying "I know there's a market in town but nothing beats the ones you grow in unaltered nature. They're pure and clean, nothing added but what the dirt's already got in it.". Some hippie-ish stuff about Mother Earth and all that. Marc could tell that this man was one of those old men who was tired of the world and wanted to live off the land. Power to him, but Marc couldn't shake off the feeling of being preached at.
Eventually, the man wrapped up his speech, or so Marc thought. Apparently, the pause that Marc took as a wrap was actually the man rerouting his topic. "You ever hear the legends, son?" the man asks. Marc scrunches his face in confusion, "The what?" he asks.
"You know, the legends! About the things that exist here in woods like this." the man exclaims as if Marc was kidding around with him, "The fae folk, the forest spirits, nymphs, what have you." he lists off. Marc shakes his head, "I'm not really a folklore and mythos kind of person." Marc says half-heartedly with a shrug. "Oh, they aren't just stories. I've met a few people who claim to have seen a thing or two here." the man smiles.
Marc crosses his arms unsure of where this guy is going with this. "I'm guessing you're going to tell me about some local cryptid?" Marc asks. "Oh, she's no cryptid, son. She's real. And she's everywhere." the man laughs in a way that is meant to be lighthearted but seems slightly ominous with the words he's said. "And... who is she?" Marc questions. The man clears his throat from his laugh and spins this small tale, "She's believed to be some kind of forest spirit who lives and watches over this part of the forest here. Wandering around making sure no one takes more than they need and occasionally watching those who are here from a distance to see what you're up to." the man explains.
"Some say they see her and that she's as beautiful as the land itself and changes with it in the seasons but she's a hard chase of you try to catch her, running as fast as a quick breeze and disappearing into the trees and the sound of the leaves rustling. but those who try to chase her say that you can hear her giggle in the rustling like it's a game of tag. If you stay on her good side then she has the breeze carry the scent of the forest for you to enjoy and has wild flowers grow around your cabin or helps grow any plants you might have." the man says further.
Again, just some hippie-spiritual-mythos junk, but that story sounds amusing at least. "And what if I make her mad?" Marc asks and that man begins again.
"Oh, well if you get her mad then she has all the trees pent you with their seed pods and nuts or she gets the animals involved. She sends them down to either dig up your property or scare the hell out of you in the middle of the night. Let me tell you something, son. Stags and deer are pretty in the day, but at night when it's just them and their bright unmoving stares in the middle of the darkness it's the thing of nightmares. And if she's real mad by hurting nature then she lets it take a bite right back at you, and Mother Nature is a fearsome thing when scorned." the man tells Marc, with occasional add-ins.
Marc scoffs at the stories and nods along. "You laugh but I swear to it. She's here and she keeps to her deeds. I got greedy last hunting season and shot an extra rabbit. Soon after that, a whole hoard of the little bastards came and ate up all my home-grown food and the squirrels were throwing the scraps in their burrows at me from the trees." he swears. "I still get pelted with one every now and then and at this point I think she's just trying to be funny." he adds.
After some more back and forth, the man leaves to let Marc have his first night in peace as the sun sets and baths the forest in a golden glow. Marc takes the luxury of not having it be a full moon any time soon and watches as the light goes from gold to a soft deep blue and purple and then the black of the night. He can hear the distant sounds of crickets talking in their chirps. As Marc settles into bed and lies in the quiet he finds himself thinking about the story that the man told him. He still feels disbelief in the tale but there's a part of him that doesn't want to be too skeptical. He is a werewolf who came to hide in the forest after all.
After a brief amount of time living in the cabin and counting down the days till his next turn with the full moon, Marc finds himself simply existing in the area around his new home. The trees are still lush with green leaves that shield away the sun but still allow it to be bright enough. He's been using his time outside of going into town to get supplies for the cabin occasionally picking up litter and trash and getting rid of all the dead leaves that have gathered while the cabin has been unoccupied.
He jokes to himself, calling out "I'm cleaning your forest. I hope that's okay with you." to the air as if the tales are true and you truly are watching him. However, he does notice that in the passing days, the patches of dirt around his cabin are being taken by green grass and some wildflowers are starting to bud from miscellaneous spots, and sometimes he smells the scent of the trees as the wind blows by occasionally but he just deems it a coincidence each time.
The first time he had a sign that he was wrong in his dismissal came soon after though on the night first turn here and the morning after. It happened like any other full moon. He painfully turns, runs and wanders the area, all of which is in a blur that feels like watching a slide show of photos taken and various moments. It all happens as it normally does but as he wakes he sees glimpses in his memories of a figure who is illuminated by the moonlight just away from sight but as he looks at them in his memories he feels no sense of danger. Instead just watches from afar as he moves along.
But when Marc truly wakes up, his body aching, and the morning sun burning his sore eyes he finds something strange. He's lying with a ring of flowers around him and some on him. He sits up in shock despite his muscles still recovering after the stress of changing twice in the span of the night. He catches some of the flowers as they roll off seeing that they are picked wildflowers and dandelions, and so are the ones around him.
Marc is reasonably confused and fearful. Did someone find him? Did they see everything? Why did they pick flowers and put them around him? Where the hell are they now? The flowers are still fresh and haven't started sagging yet. All these questions ran through his mind. But just as he's about to call out, he feels a soft breeze pass him and the smell of the forest come to his nose.
Marc looks around and his eyes fall on you a bit away blending in with the colors and hues of the trees and foliage, almost in beautiful camouflage with the surroundings. Marc calls out to you and stammers to get up, but his legs give and he falls back down. He looks back up but you're gone just like that.
Marc is at a loss for words but settles on a confused but still appreciative "Thank you." for the seemingly kind gesture of covering him in flowers, whatever that means, feeling that you're still around to hear it.
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Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction
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topguncortez · 2 years
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I love your shy MC series so much, and I know this doesn’t really fit in it, but I can’t stop thinking of a shy MC who had a one night stand with hangman and got pregnant saying this:
“maybe we should move in together. n-not permanently. just until the baby’s born.”
I love this:)
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pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female!Reader word count: 2k prompts list:)
It was just supposed to be a night of fun. A night where you completely lose sight of anything and everything. A night where in the morning you wake up in your bathtub with a half drunk bottle of tequila. It wasn't ever supposed to equal in a positive pregnancy test six weeks later.
Y/N didn't even know his number to call him. All she could remember was that his friends called him 'Bagman' but his real name was Jake. He had a stupidly perfect smile, and stupidly perfect hair. He was charming and had a bit of an accent in his speech. She could also remember they bonded over the fact they had just gotten out of long-term failed relationships. One shot led into another, and it led into another and then it led to Jake taking Y/N home, and their clothes on the floor of her bedroom.
"I have no clue what to do, Nat," Y/N said to her best friend.
"Well, I guess call the guy," Natasha said.
She couldn’t believe that her shy, sweet best friend since birth would end up in this situation either. Natasha and Y/N had always been opposites of each other in a way. Natasha was always the “wild” one in their friendship, encouraging the drinking and partying, within reason of course. 
“I don’t have his number, or-or anything,” Tears started clouding her vision as she stood up from the bed and started pacing, “My parents are going to kill me.” 
“Okay,” Natasha stood up, and grabbed her friend’s arms, stopping her from pacing, “It’ll be okay. I’m not gonna sugar coat it, they will probably be mad, but you have me. I’m not going anywhere, I’m not going to leave you. I’ll be here the whole time, and hold your hand through anything and everything. You’re basically my sister, okay? You got this.” 
“I can do this,” Y/N said, nodding and Natasha smiled. 
That moment was six months ago, and Y/N still hadn’t found the father of her baby. She also wasn’t actively searching either. She wasn’t new to hookup culture, she knew what one-night stands were meant to be. It didn’t surprise her when this Jake dude didn’t leave his number or address on her bedside table in the morning. Y/N could hardly even remember what he looked like, except those piercing green eyes. She hoped that her baby had the same beautiful green eyes as he did. 
Natasha, true to her word, had stayed by her friend’s side through it all. Through those early mornings spent throwing up, to doctors appointments, to looking at paint swatches on the walls of the small house Y/N lived in. Natasha had a bunch of questions about this mystery guy, but out of respect for her friend, she didn’t ask. 
The two of them walked into the Hard Deck, seeing as the evening crowd was already starting to file in. Natasha had invited Y/N along to celebrate Rooster’s birthday. Rooster had also become a close friend of Y/N, through her friendship with Natasha. Rooster had tried to make a move on her, but Natasha had cornered him and told him about Y/N being pregnant and scared and to stay away. So, Rooster being the man he is, respected both of them, and helped out the best he could with things around Y/N’s house. 
“Phoenix! Y/N!” Rooster called for them as soon as they entered the Hard Deck. Phoenix nodded over at him and led Y/N over to where Rooster and the other members of the Dagger Squad were. Rooster hugged both of them, and thanked them for coming. 
“Hey, Y/N,” Bob said, as the girl sat down next to him. As the only two sober ones as of late, Bob and Y/N had gotten close. He handed her a lemonade that he ordered and she smiled at him. 
“Thank you, Bob,” Y/N said, and rested her hands on her belly. 
“Baby active?” 
“All day,” Y/N looked down at her belly just in time to see a small nudge coming from within her womb, “Running out of room in there, and they don’t like it. But I’m not entirely ready for them to make their appearance either.” 
“Soon enough, Y/N, soon enough,” Bob said, and took a sip of his water. 
The two of them fell into a conversation about their day. For both of them, it was as easy as breathing to talk to one another. Natasha thought that Bob would be a good match for her friend, and had been slowly pushing him to make a move on her. Natasha knew that Bob liked Y/N, but he was too much of a gentleman to make a move. It wasn’t that Bob was scared to take on the responsibility of being a father, it was that he respected her and didn’t want to add to the stress of becoming a mother. Bob had silently agreed to be there for her too, like Rooster and Natasha were. 
“Look who decided to show up!” Payback yelled, catching Y/N and Bob’s attention. Her heart stopped beating as she noticed those green eyes and that stupidly perfect smile, “If it ain’t Bagman!” 
“Oh my god,” Y/N let out, and Bob looked at her in worry. 
“What? Are you okay? Is it the baby?” Bob asked quickly, his voice thick with his accent. 
“What? I uh,” Y/N said, snapping out of her trance as ‘Bagman’  walked through the bar and greeted his friends, “No it’s not the baby, I um, excuse me.” 
Bob watched as Y/N got up quickly from the booth, and walked right over to Natasha. Phoenix looked up at her with a smile, but it quickly dropped seeing that her friend’s face was unreadable. Y/N quickly grabbed her friend’s arm and pulled her towards the bathrooms, only to be stopped when her shoulder ran into something hard. 
“I’m sorry-” “Oh sorry-” 
“Y/N,” Jake said, his green eyes looking her up and down and widening at the sight of her baby bump, “Wow.” 
“I can-” 
“We’re gonna go get some air,” Natasha said quickly, and pulled her friend towards the back door of the Hard Deck. Once they were out of earshot of the bar, Y/N sat down in one of the chairs on the deck, and took a deep breath, “I’m not gonna ask but-” 
“He’s the father of my child.” 
“Yeah, that’s what I was not gonna ask,” Natasha said, and rubbed her forehead, “When?” 
“Well, six months ago. Two weeks after Daniel and I broke up. I went out for a drink, and Jake was there because he-” 
“Just broke up with Gwen. So you two had a one night stand and,” Natasha gestured to her friend, “Wow. I can't believe it. . . You slept with Hangman?” 
“Hangman? I thought it was Bagman,” Y/N said, and Natasha laughed, “I didn’t even know his name was Jake until we were half naked in my bed. I didn’t know a single thing about him.” 
“Oh my god! Ew! So you’re the girl he was bragging about fucking! Oh my god.” 
“Really? What did he say? Did he say I was good?” 
“Y/N!” 
“What?!” She giggled and Natasha shook her head, as the back door to the Hard Deck opened. Jake walked out apprehensively, and gave a tight lipped smile to Phoenix, “I think you two need to talk.” Y/N nodded and Natasha looked back at Jake, who was waiting by the side of the building to come over, “I’ll be right inside if you need me.” 
“I think I got this,” Y/N said and Natasha hugged her friend before heading back inside the building. Jake waited a second, before walking over to her, and sitting down in front of her. Y/N took a deep breath and shifted in her seat, feeling the glare of Jake’s green eyes on her belly. 
“How far along?” He asked. 
“Twenty-nine weeks,” She answered, and Jake sighed. She could tell by his body language, he wanted to touch her belly. Rooster had been the same way when she popped, wanting to feel it, but Natasha had smacked his hand back and made him ask, “You can touch it.” 
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” He looked up at her, his green eyes sparkling. 
“It’s okay,” Y/N whispered, and Jake shifted, placing his large hand on her bump. He felt the overwhelming sense to cry as he rubbed his hands gently over the place where his baby was. He didn’t even bother to ask if the baby was his, he already knew. Even though they spent one night together, Jake knew that Y/N wasn’t the type to go and sleep around. 
“I’m sorry I just left.” 
“I’m sorry I didn’t try and find you,” Y/N said, “Even though I didn’t know where to look.” 
“I honestly was scared to stay,” Jake said, and removed his hands from her bump. She bit back a whimper at the loss of warmth from him, as he sat back in his chair, “I knew you probably just wanted one night, but I. . . I fell in love with you.” 
“Jake, I-” 
“No, you don’t have to say it,” Jake said shaking his head, “Just tell me what I can do now. Are you okay? Is the baby healthy? You look good, so I guess that means something.” 
Y/N blushed and rubbed her belly, “I’m good, baby is healthy. It’s a little girl, actually.” 
“Really? I’m gonna be a girl dad,” Jake smiled and Y/N nodded. The two sat in silence for a beat, as Jake shifted in his seat, and leaned closer to her, “Maybe we should move in together. N-not permanently. Just until the baby’s born.”
“Oh! Like in my house?” 
“Yeah, I still live in a barracks dorm, and you probably have the house set up and-” 
“I think that would be okay,” Y/N said, her neck was bright red as she blushed, “I have a guest room, currently an office, but it has a nice bed and stuff. And I mean, it would be nice having you around, not that you couldn’t have been nice early, but you didn’t know so it’s okay that you are here now and I-” 
“I get it,” Jake said, cutting her rambling off, “Would you like to meet up tomorrow? For lunch?” 
“Lunch is good,” Y/N smiled, and looked over at the window of the bar, seeing both Natasha and Bradley looking at them, “We should head back in.” Jake nodded, and held his hand out for her to take. She thanked him as she pushed herself up from the chair, and began walking back in the bar. She paused for a second and turned around to face Jake. 
“Listen, I know you are a good man, and that you want to be there for your child but. . . Jake, I have feelings for someone else.” 
Jake felt like a dagger had been pushed through his heart. He could tell that she probably didn’t feel the same about him when he mentioned that he fell in love with her seven months ago. She had been the only thing on Jake’s mind these past couple weeks, wondering where she was and who she was and what she was doing. But hearing her say it hurt even more than just thinking it. 
“I know,” Jake said, giving her a tight lipped smile, “Still not going to stop me from carrying about you or my child.”
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fatfables · 2 months
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Abundance, Oklahoma
A short companion piece to my full length fat fable 'Camp Shawn'
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1.
Mr Nimby’s palms were itching. He scratched and scratched at them until they were sore with red marks running down the middle. He held his left hand up to his nose and his right nostril flared as he took a big sniff. He grimaced and pulled his face away from his hand.
“What on Earth are you doing?” Mrs Catinhellschance asked him.
Being rather a short man he looked up at the old woman, and frowned. He had never liked the crazy old bat but this damn new settlement had made allies of them. After all, who in their right mind would want a fat cult moving in down the road? Those people were crazier than she was, and she stunk of urine and screamed at passing cars.
“I’m preparing for my speech. What do you think I’m doing?”
“Well, it better be a good one. They got that famous lawyer man coming. Ya know, the old Swedish one from the TV news.”
Who the fuck still watches the TV news, he thought. “Yes, I’m well aware of that, Irene, thank you.”
“He’s very good, ya know.”
“I know, Irene. He’s also very old. Quite frankly it’s amazing that he’s still alive given the damn size of him!”
“Human rights lawyer, he is.”
“Yes, Irene, I know!” He was on the verge of losing his temper.
“No need to shout at me, Mr Nimby, I’m only trying to help.”
“I know that as well, Mrs Catinahellschance. None of us want this. These people are batshit crazy.”
“Who’s batshit crazy?”
They both turned round to see Mr Bunterson, famed human rights lawyer from the TV news slowly making his way towards them. He was at least eighty years old, had a full head of wild, curly, grey hair, and a walking stick in each hand to help him keep his balance and take the stress off his spine, caused by the planet sized belly that he was rocking up front.
Mr Nimby and his neighbour tried their best not to stare at the old man’s waistline but it was very hard not to. How often does one see a 500 lb plus octogenarian? 
“I can only assume that you are referring to myself or my clients?” Steve said.
“Too right!” Mr Nimby said. “We don’t want your kind here. You’re a disgrace to this country!”
Steve Bunterson instinctively let out a massive burp that he had been saving up, “Buuuurrrrrppppppp!” He blew it in Mrs Catinahellschance’s direction.
“Sorry,” he said, “Too much Dr Pepper in the car.”
“Vile man,” she spat at him, “Puerile, like a spoiled child!”
“And what is wrong with spoiling children Mam? Aren’t children meant to be doted on? The twinkle in our eyes? Do you not believe that the children of America should have everything that they want?”
“No, we do not! Isn’t that right, Mr Nimby?”
“Yes, that’s right! You people represent everything that is wrong with this country!”
What a fucking idiot, Steve thought. He was about to speak when a fourth person entered the hallway. It was the chairman of the town council, Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks.
“Ah hello Mr Bunterson, so pleased to see you! It’s a real honour to have you here in our town. You must be looking forward to putting your plans forward” He reached out a large Indian hand and shook Steve’s soft wrinkled palm with genuine warmth.
“It’s very nice to be here. And yes I’m really excited about the Abundance proposal. I think that it will bring a lot of growth to the region.”
“Bollocks!” said Mr Nimby abruptly.
Steve Bunterson turned and looked down at the small man over the rim of his round glasses, individually designed at great expense to match his round face.
“Very strange turn of phrase for an Okie?” He said, “Have you spent a lot of time in the UK? Mr er..”
“Nimby! The names Nimby. And no I’ve not. Though I do like to watch a lot of their comedies online.”
“Hmmm, not surprising for a man who hates America. Did you know that Mr Nimby was a red coat-wearing self-hater?” He aimed the question at Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks.
“No I did not, but I can’t say that I’m at all surprised.”
Mr Nimby tried to protest this childish name-calling but he was spoken down by the much larger chairman.
“You must be very hungry Mr Bunterson. You’ve come a long way today. We have prepared a special buffet meal before the meeting.”
“I thought you’d never ask!” Steve smiled widely at Mrs Catinahellschance, purposefully pushed his belly out and made a loud noise out of not saying goodbye to either her or Mr Nimby.
Stupid people like that clearly weren’t worth bothering with. The two of them obviously thought that their protests might actually work. They were both far too stupid to know that they hadn’t just already lost but had in fact lost ten times over.
2.
Steve was sat at a large round table with Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks, four young members of the Surplus and three rotund local supporters. Eight of the party glutted themselves to the limits of human endurance while one of them spoke at great length.
Considering his advanced years, Steve still knew how to eat. He was now more than 200 lbs lighter than his heaviest ever weight, a consequence of the limited medical technology available to him, but he still more than enjoyed his food.
One day the youth of America would no longer need to be restricted by such basic things as the limits of evolution, but that day had not come yet. Steve filled his face with oysters, shrimp, crab legs, and lobster. He quaffed down the quail, and chugged down the champagne. He had developed a real taste for expensive cuisine in his older years. The younger Surplus stuck to pizza, fries, and burgers.
Plate after plate was delivered to the table in order to save the guest of honour from having to fetch his own food, and the empties started to pile up as the serving staff struggled to clear the table quickly enough. One Surplus boy, Kaden, 22 years old and just over 300 lbs, was keen to show his abilities off to his elder. He ate so many burgers and cocked back so much Coke that he burst the buttons off his best shirt as his belly bulged. To his delight Steve raised a toast to his achievement and demanded that they all have another round of three more plate fulls in celebration.
Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks didn’t care one way or the other about the behaviour of his gluttonous guests, he was already dreaming about his upcoming trip to Rio. As far as he was concerned if the white man wanted to eat himself to death then he was more than welcome to do so. He didn’t even raise a note of concern or dismay when the young Surplus and rotund locals started farting wildly at the table. He had done his homework and knew that this was an old Surplus tradition dating back to the camp, so didn’t want to offend his paying guests by commenting on it.
After two hours of eating it was time for the meeting to begin. Himself, Steve Bunterson, and Mr Nimby moved to a long table at the front of the room so that they could take it in turns to address the attendees.
Steve was very slow to stand and even slower to walk. His replacement knees were suffering from the strain of having to hold up his bulk. His 500 lb frame was now swollen to the max and his huge round low-hanging gut swayed as he shuffled forwards with small heavy steps. Two thousand miles away his twin brother, Henry, was sitting on his sofa eating four whole pavlovas while a servant boy tried to massage the pain away from his fat swollen legs.
Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks spoke first and at great length. He took ten minutes to go through the attendees, twenty minutes to go over the minutes of the last meeting and half an hour to introduce Steve and the topic of the night. Fortunately for the young Surplus and their local rotund friends there was still plenty of food left on offer to keep them entertained. Poor old Steve just had to sit and listen to it, wishing that he was younger and still sat at the table with the other fat boys.
Second to speak was Mr Nimby. This in itself irritated him and he spent fifteen minutes complaining about the fact that the anti-proposal speaker should really get to speak after the proposal in order to be able to rebut it. Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks interrupted him three times to state that the order of the speakers had been chosen at random. Mr Nimby finally got to his point.
“The Surplus are an unethical, immoral cult that threatens the basis of our country. This obsession with growing as fat as possible may now be very popular but that doesn’t make it right. As decent law-abiding people we should reject them and their principles. Allowing them to build a whole town dedicated to making its citizenry as obese as possible in our county would be not only an acceptance of their way of life but an approval of it…”
His speech was interrupted by a slice of strawberry cheesecake hitting him straight in the face. A loud cheer erupted from the table of fat boys.
He wiped the sweet sticky dessert from his cheeks and continued. 
“That, ladies and gentleman, that is the level of people that we are dealing with! These disgusting gluttonous pigs have no conscience! If we allow them to build on Peterson’s Farm then that is what we are welcoming into our community. And I for one want nothing to do with it!”
Mrs Catinhellschance, sat at the back of the room, attempted to applaud him but she was easily drowned out by the boo’s of seven severely obese young men, who jeered and pelted him with after dinner mints. He sat back down.
Steve Bunterson rose slowly to his feet. His distended belly bashed into the table in front of him as he stood, knocking over his drink and those of his fellow speakers. He waved a fat old hand up and down to beckon the boys to quieten. They did so immediately.
“Mr Nimby is a moron. He is an antiquated idiot. His outdated ideas of morality belong firmly in the last century. A century of untold wars and horrors. He dare not speak it but he clearly believes in the debunked ideals of public health. Of the type that have been rejected by the vast majority of Americans. He seeks only to curtail the liberty of us all. He wishes to deny all of us the right to enjoy our own bodies, to pursue happiness through eating. This is not only unconstitutional, it is downright un-American! This man hates America, he told me so himself earlier this evening. And beyond even this he is not only wrong in his beliefs but he is also wrong in his facts. We are no longer planning to build our new town on Peterson’s Farm but on the reservation. This sale of private land has been agreed with Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks and the rest of his tribe. A fair and legal agreement between the original inhabitants of this great land and a people who represent its great future.”
Fourteen young heavy hands banged on the large round table in pronounced agreement. Mr Nimby looked at the chairman next to him in total surprise.
“Is this true?” He asked him.
“Yes,” said Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks, “We signed the contract yesterday. The new town of Abundance will be built on twenty seven acres of reservation land. As such the consent of the town council is no longer required. I invited Mr Bunterson to tonight’s meeting as an act of courtesy to the town’s folk so that he himself could talk to you and explain the benefits.”
Mr Nimby slumped defeated in his chair. Steve Bunterson’s smile was as wide as his stomach. Fuck these ignorant inbred assholes, he thought. No one would stand in his way.
He rose once more to his feet, scratched at the top of his huge belly, straining under his designer 6XL shirt, and began to speak again.
“Every American youth has the option to choose our way of life. To choose a fulfilling life of abundance in Abundance. I want every boy in this great country to be able to grow into his full potential. To be the biggest and best that he can be. It is not only his right, it is his birthright! Gaining is the epitome of the American dream and I repudiate anyone who says otherwise. I was lucky as a child that my father cared deeply about me and my brother. He cared enough to not just let us be who we wanted to be but to help and encourage us every bite of the way. He understood human rights better than anyone. While so-called public health crusaders tried to deny us a right to life, liberty, and happiness, through intrusive social programmes that went against the spirit of the founding fathers, our father sent us to fat camp in order for us to indulge in our passion. Meanwhile the public health lunatics attempted to ban trans-fats, they attempted to limit the variety of food available in schools, attempted to limit portion sizes at fast food restaurants, attempted to limit the number of restaurants and food stalls through anti-business zoning laws, there was all sorts of government overreach going on, but we fought them all! And we were victorious! We grew as fat as we wanted in spite of them, and thanks to ever improving medical technology we will continue to grow to new unheard of sizes without any negative health effects! I was once over 700 lbs and lived a perfectly happy life. You my boys, you the future of the Surplus, the future of America, you will soon be able to grow to over 1000 lbs at least! That I have no doubt about. And you will be able to do it in a town called Abundance!”
There were loud cheers from the large round table as shouts of “Hip hip hooray” started up. Steve received a standing ovation from his corpulent young followers and a few more heavy set people in the room.
“And now my friends, we shall feast to celebrate!”
Steve sat back down at the large round table as Chief Likestotalkandtakespaybacks spoke again for another twenty five minutes in order to bring the meeting to an end. Mrs Catinhellschance and Mr Nimby tried to slink quietly out of the door but an extra-large apple pie hit him in the ass as he did so.
The elderly Steve Bunterson, attorney at law, four young Surplus, and three new recruits continued to stuff themselves stupid with desserts for the next three hours. They guzzled down gateaux, chomped their chubby chops on chocolate cheesecakes, and downed dozens of delicious dairy donuts each. They swallowed every item in sight until they all strained and heaved around the waist. Every one of them extended themselves to a delirious level. Eight tight stomach bags groaned with delight. More buttons popped and every one of them had to undo his belt and fly in order to let his delightfully overfull belly breath.
Steve was so impressed with his fat young charges that he let three of them come back to his hotel room so that they could fellate him and each other.
Click here to read the first of three parts of 'Camp Shawn'.
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year
Note
A sort of alternate take on Jack’s introduction to the arena, note that Heracles is introduced first
Brunhilde didn’t want people to think she chose Jack the Ripper because that could potentially give the wrong impression especially with the real Jack the Ripper potentially in the crowds somewhere
This is what Heimdall says
“London was plagued by The Ripper, who slaughtered five women. But why did he stop his killings? Was it because he was caught on another crime? No. Was it that he died of natural causes or in an accident, maybe even took his own life? No. The killings of The Ripper stopped because an even greater killer found and ended his reign of terror.” You choose the reaction of the crowds and everyone here but Jack begins to walk out at this moment “A killer of killers, this man, no, this legend, was not given a name as a child, on his records he is only known as The Boy Who Will Become Jack. He ended serial killers as a passion, weaving artwork none would ever see, the best assassins ever were no match for him, none could truly kill him. What do we call him? Do we name him Jack the Ripper, after the monster that he killed? No! There is only one fitting name for one such as he. Gods and Humans I give you the very embodiment of the legend you all know, the monster that went bump in the night, I give you Spring-Heeled Jack!!!”
What are the reactions of Hercules and those in the crowd?
Ooh~ I love this take on the character!
-With the threat of the possible real Jack the Ripper being in the crowd watching Ragnarok, Brunnhilde didn’t want to take the chance of putting her fighter at risk.
-She also didn’t want to give people the wrong idea of selecting such a vile and evil man as Jack the Ripper, but Mr. Anonymous gave her a different name to use, one she agreed to.
-The stadium was revealed to look like the dark streets of London, those in attendance in awe over how quickly it had been built.
-Hercules was impressed as he entered, looking at the foreign architecture, turning around to see all the details, impressed before he looked up to see Heimdall in a balloon over the arena, so he could MC from above.
-Heimdall’s speech brough chills to many, shocking the public to hear who Hercules’ opponent was, “London was plagued by The Ripper, who slaughtered five women. But why did he stop his killings? Was it because he was caught on another crime? No. Was it that he died of natural causes or in an accident, maybe even took his own life? No. The killings of The Ripper stopped because an even greater killer found and ended his reign of terror.”
-At this moment, Jack started to walk out, the sound of his cane on the cobblestone ringing out as Heimdall continued, “A killer of killers, this man, no, this legend, was not given a name as a child, on his records he is only known as The Boy Who Will Become Jack. He ended serial killers as a passion, weaving artwork none would ever see, the best assassins ever were no match for him, none could truly kill him. What do we call him? Do we name him Jack the Ripper, after the monster that he killed? No! There is only one fitting name for one such as he. Gods and humans I give you the very embodiment of the legend you all know, the monster that went bump in the night, I give you Spring-Heeled Jack!!!”
-Hercules’ eyes went wide in shock as the man in question made it to him, offering him a polite bow at the waist, tipping his hat to him.
-Hercules had been a bit worried his opponent was a violent man who had killed women so violently, but to learn that the man before him, Jack, was a killer of killers, taking out violent people like Jack the Ripper to keep others safe, his grip tightened on his club, feeling swirling emotions bubbling up inside of him.
-On one hand, Jack was a killer, he killed others, but those people he killed were all violent people, killers themselves, and he would only kill people like them, so only he remained.
-Jack didn’t go after innocents, which Hercules had to admire, knowing that people like women and children were safe. He had to respect his opponent, giving him a firm nod, eyes focused in determination, “I love humanity, but as your opponent, I’m not going to go easy on you!”
-Jack smiled softly, having seen the emotions swirling around the larger man, knowing that this man was unlike the other men he hunted, seeing his fire, his determination.
-He bowed once more at the waist, “Your color is stunning, come- let us create a masterpiece!”
-Many of the humans were surprised to see that Brunnhilde had chosen a bogey-man of off humans to face off against Hercules, while those who knew of Spring Heeled Jack were a rather afraid to see him in the flesh, having grown up knowing about him.
-Many of the gods were laughing, seeing this thin looking man facing off against Hercules, Zeus included as he yelled at Hercules to end the match quickly.
-As the fight started, many were stunned to see how agile and actually physically strong Jack was, able to scale walls with ease, lay out intricate traps, usually meant to catch his usual pray, but were good distractions so he could hide and wait for a big attack.
-When he pulled himself up off the iron fence, many were in shock that he didn’t seemed bothered by it, almost like he was a demon, a monster.
-Jack could sense the fear around him, but nothing in his opponent, but he had a feeling that his favorite color wasn’t going to appear in his opponent, no matter what, but that still didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try~
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lesbiansforboromir · 1 year
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Boromir and Faramir in the films are such comical characters when looked at from a certain angle. Like on the face of it they've got this terrible father who's driven mad by power hunger and a paternalistic need to continue his bloodline, so he disparages his younger son for some reason and supports his golden child eldest, okay, awful... but when you look at the actual actions of his two sons... HE'S KIND OF RIGHT!
Like Gondor is still definitely at war with Mordor in the films, no matter how much worse at it they are than in the books, BUT whilst Boromir is there they're doing things like winning entire cities back from the enemy AND Somehow defending themselves AGAINST the enemies apparently holding Osgiliath beforehand which is literally right next to all their farmlands AND WITHOUT EVEN THE RAMMAS BETWEEN THEM??.. Boromir makes a speech with such blatant optimism and such weirdly frivolous priorities like 'lets retake all the cities we have lost and make music and beauty in them again!' it's the speech of a pretty victorious country, not a country 60 years into a war of attrition where the measure of success is 'how much can we delay our inevitable defeat'. And the Steward even PERSONALLY arrives in this just-won warzone- like! the confidence the Boromir-lead Gondorian army has is unbelievable.
And then Boromir leaves... and everything absolutely falls apart. The the chronological next update we get about Gondor's situation is that Osgiliath is EASILY taken (almost immediately after Faramir arrives from Ithilien which begs the question why were you hiding in the woods if an attack was so imminent and how were you taken so unawares), the entire garrison is routed and sent fleeing madly and haplessly back to Minas Tirith and most of them are either killed on the way or killed during the first attack (which sees Faramir running about dazed with clearly no real knowledge of where most of his men are or what they're doing, needing to be literally saved from traps his subordinates create independently without his knowledge.) Faramir even shouts 'Nazgul' as though they definitely are already very accustomed to these creatures and yet still have no way to combat them apparently!
And then Denethor's like, retake Osgiliath! Which, whilst in the moment seems mad, if we're running on what BOROMIR accomplished, is a completely reasonable request! Faramir is like 'Osgiliath is overrun'- it was when Boromir retook it too! But what does Faramir do with this request? Accepts it as a death sentence and does NO PLANNING whatsoever. Literally eleven year olds with no prior military experience would be able to tell you that charging cavalry at a city WITH LINES OF ARCHERS is the most useless asinine action possible, but that's what Faramir does! And in the end he gets ALL THOSE MEN KILLED because of it!
So looking at it all this way... we've got a head of state (who's a pretty normal guy, not especially brilliant at ruling and struggling with the pressures of his responsibilities) his heir and eldest son who's this savant style military leader who was essentially the load bearing rock which was holding up the entirety of Gondor's sub-par military prowess and whom his father is relying on for essentially everything at this point, and the youngest fail-son brother who's only skills are #1 firing bow #2 telling others to fire bow at the right time and #3 looking sad. Literally IN the extended edition conversation, apparently Faramir lost Osgiliath THE FIRST TIME TOO, LIKE THIS IS TWICE THIS MAN HAS ALLOWED THIS FORTRESS TO BE BESIEGED AND TAKEN IN IT'S ENTIRETY!! WEST AND EAST OF THE RIVER!! Faramir makes this excuse like 'we had too few men' and everyone believes him but given Denethor's DERISIVE reaction at that and what ELSE we see of Faramir's military prowess, IT DOES SOUND LIKE AN EXCUSE TO ME. Even Boromir is like he TRIES to do your will, as in 'dont be mean to him he's doing his best!' Denethor's like 'dont trouble me with Faramir I know his uses and they are few' and Boromir has NOTHING to say against it cus he knows he's right!! Of course Denethor would only be able to trust Boromir to go get the ring,
Gondor's film!situation is an entire country of sub-par dudes plus Boromir who apparently was born with every single braincell the rest of them are lacking and whom has a VERY REAL UNDERSTANDING that literally everything is up to him to fix 'He looks to me to make things right and I will do it' who else is going to do it??? Certainly not Faramir!! It's so funny, no wonder he's so emotionally fragile and desperate for Aragorn's approval, he's just looking for ONE SINGLE OTHER GUY whose halfway competant to work with here. They didn't give him the 'Gondor wanes you say but Gondor stands and even at the end of it's strength it is still very strong' line because it narratively would have been a complete lie.
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ciaossu-imagines · 4 months
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I spin off exploring Yamapapa’s past… I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s thought of this before or thought of him extensively in general. He’s such an interesting character and there’s so much to explore there!!! We need more of him 😭
Why/when did he start learning to use the sword? Why did he stop? What was his master like? Why did he become a sushi chef? So! Many! Questions!
-R
Okay, so I struggled a little bit to answer this, but not because I don't have the ideas. I have so, so many ideas and thoughts and love for this man. I actually struggled because, all things willing and if I allow myself the time, not only will you guys all actually see this written as an actual 'light novel' style format (without the pretty pictures, unless I can start affording commissions), but you'll have most of it, if not all of it, by the end of 2025, along with similar 'Secret Bullet' side-novels, all in varying stages of completion, written by me (so not at all officially canon) for Shamal's past, and the Arcobaleno's pasts, the lead up to that fateful day they became Arcobaleno's, and the direct aftermath of that for each of them. Those are all projects, along with some self-indulgent stuff I want to work on with OC's and self-inserts and just fun little things over the next couple years. So when answering this, I kind of wanted to cover everything but also kind of just wanted to go bare basics so you guys wouldn't be too spoiled. I kind of tried to hit a happy medium and hope you enjoy the headcanons I did provide.
First off, let's go with the obvious. For any of you wondering how you should go about picturing younger Tsuyoshi...there's really a huge father-son resemblance. Tsuyoshi looked a lot like Yamamoto does currently, except a little broader and with a bit sharper of features.
That's not the only similarity between father and son though. Tsuyoshi even acts a lot like his son does during the actual manga. Growing up, he was sociable, friendly, good-natured, seemingly laid back with a hidden very serious side, athletic and honestly, he was always popular with not only his peers but the adults around him as well, who always commented on what a nice boy he was.
He comes from a good home, with two happily married parents who love him and support his interests and hobbies. His family isn't rich, but they're not poor either. His love of cooking was actually fostered from a young age. His mother's dream had always been to open a noodle shop of her own and his father also enjoyed cooking, so it became a family affair that Tsuyoshi was allowed to join in on as soon as his little hands were able to actually be put to good. Cooking the family meals together and then sitting down to enjoy their hard work are some of Tsuyoshi's favourite childhood memories, to be honest.
I do think, around the age of five, that Tsuyoshi was blessed with a little sister who he really doted upon. They had a real strong bond and that was, for all extents and purposes, his best friend, even while he had many other friends.
I think Tsuyoshi gained an interest in kendo around that age too and he really threw himself into the sport, practicing and training in it for years. He wasn't fantastic at first but he really pushed himself, much like his son does with baseball, and he genuinely loved doing so. With his hard work, dedication, and natural athleticism, he really did hone his skills and was winning championships within his first couple years of the sport.
This really continued up until he was in middle school, when an incident with his sister being caught up in some bullying Tsuyoshi was receiving from those jealous of his success in a kendo tournament happened. His sister was gravely injured, to the point she was hospitalized with a severe concussion, among some other lighter physical injuries, that resulted in some permanent memory issues and a slight speech impediment. Of course, the speech impediment and memory issues led to her getting bullied by classmates afterwards and moving forward and his formerly super-cheerful and perky sister started to become depressed.
I think that's what really drove Tsuyoshi to want to study the sword more seriously. While he had thought his kendo skills enough to really protect those precious to him, he'd experienced first hand that they really weren't enough. He wanted....no, he needed, to gain enough power to protect those he loved if anything were to ever happen again.
I think it was his former kendo teacher who really introduced Tsuyoshi to the woman who would become his master. The former generation's Shigure Soen Ryu successor and the creator of the Shibuki Ame, she saw Tsuyoshi's earnestness, his resolve, and his good heart and took him into her school.
I think she was a very strict teacher, but also incredibly fair. She did genuinely care for and, in her own way, deeply respect and love every single one of her pupils. While she pushed them hard, wasn't hesitant at all to attack them pretty harshly while training, and demanded improvement and dedication, she also would take extra time to help anyone who was struggling, would offer counsel and words of wisdom. She also didn't mind Tsuyoshi's sister often tagging along to her brother's practice sessions, since Tsuyoshi hoped it would cheer her up.
It's in this school that Tsuyoshi realizes that he's actually incredibly gifted, quite naturally so, in the use of a sword and he quickly makes a name for himself. Not only that, but he quickly finds himself popular among the students. That is, of course, nice, but Tsuyoshi also goes out of his way to befriend the one student nobody else seems to like. The previously best student, the boy is more shy, almost anxious about talking to people, and suffers from some self-esteem issues he hides behind bravado and harsh words. Of course, all that effort to hide those bad feelings behind those kind of things doesn't exactly endear him to the other students, who only see the front he puts on. Tsuyoshi gets to know him better and the two become fast friends and friendly rivals. A girl from the class (who will later on become Tsuyoshi's bride) rounds out the foursome of Tsuyoshi, his sister, his rival, and this girl. They really spend a lot of time together, become the closest friends all the rest have.
That rivalry though...it starts to get less and less friendly as time goes on, especially when the two are chosen as the potential successors to Shigure Soen Ryu. By that time, there are also other bad feelings festering on the side of Tsuyoshi's rival. See, not only is he always feeling inadequate to Tsuyoshi, but Tsuyoshi has started dating the other girl, spending most of his time with her, and his rival and best friend is feeling left out. Add to that the rival's long-standing love for Tsuyoshi's sister, which he has confessed to her numerous times, to always get rebuffed. The rival really blames Tsuyoshi for that too, thinking that he's poisoning his sister against the rival (and in some ways, he's not entirely wrong, as Tsuyoshi is an overly protective big brother and does see some troubling things in his friend that, though he loves the boy like a brother, he doesn't feel would be well suited for a man worthy of dating his sister).
It culminates in Tsuyoshi getting handed his master's Shigure Kintoki before the rival does, getting the chance and the master's confidence in him becoming the official successor.
That's right...while a lot of people have the friend Tsuyoshi is saving during that typhoon as the other potential successor, and I've worked myself with that idea before and see a lot of merit and potential in it, I really see it the opposite. His rival and former best friend is the person he's protecting his friend from during that typhoon.
His best friend. His flesh and blood. And his friend turned more. All three had been coming from the school, located in the mountains and quite the walk for them, when the typhoon really starts to get insanely bad. The rival had been waiting and ambushes them.
I won't go into all the details but I will say Tsuyoshi's sister...she doesn't make it out of that fight and Tsuyoshi walks out of that fight not only knowing that, despite becoming the official successor during it, he had not only failed to save his best friend but he had taken the life of another friend. He'd failed in all his goals in taking up the sword and defiled its purpose to protect by taking a life.
Though Tsuyoshi still holds the sword in high regard and still knows that Shigure Soen Ryu is invincible, flawless, and perfect, he feels he's too dirty in some ways to hold Shigure Kintoki. It rests in a closet in his house for the longest time as he finds other ways to live his life, to continue on. While he battles his own demons, his girlfriend stays by his side, supports him, and her love really does keep him from going too off the rails. She gives him something to initially live for.
After graduating middle school, he gets a job in a sushi restaurant instead of going into high school where he really finds a new interest and passion for making sushi. He studies under the restaurant's itamae until he reaches that rank too. By that time, his girlfriend has become his bride.
Tsuyoshi opens his own restaurant on the same day he finds out he's going to become a father.
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gwydionmisha · 10 months
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Advice to the Able-Bodied Poet Entering the Disability Poetics Workshop -  Liv Mammone
For Jennifer Bartlett and Shira Erlichman
1. Let's just save time—Yes I have seen Rain Man, The Miracle Worker, My Left Foot, or, more recently, The Theory of Everything. I wanna fuck Daniel Day Lewis too but can we not? 2. If all the the Special Needs Kids everybody's mom/cousin/friend/friend's mom/cousin's friend's mom has ever worked with got together, they could overthrow the government and we'd see some real change. Those people aren't reference points for me. There are no reference points for me. 3. This isn't the Whose Life Sucks More game. You have seen moments I can never imagine. 4. When asking about my disability, please remember you have Siri. What you really need to know will come up in the poems. 5. Similarly, if you decide you need to ask my diagnosis, I can guarantee those ugly sounding words are all I have in common with whoever you know. If you don't know anyone, asking me what does that mean isn't ingratiating. I'm not a painting by Warhol. Asterisk: if you're just meeting me and that's your opening? That, or so what happened to you—you're suspect. I have a favorite band, a gaggle of furry children. Let's start there. 6. The words disability, disorder, and disease aren't synonymous. 7. And while we're at it, let's talk about language. You're here for that above all right? Me too. But I get to decide how it's done, not you. If I say cripple, it's because I like how the consonants break like bones. I'm not handing you a membership card. If I say call me "special needs" and I'll roll over your foot, it doesn't mean that softness won't comfort others. Political correctness is kind of like using correct pronouns. So many words have been made up and thrown onto my flesh. None were my name. 8. If you didn't get the above reference to pronouns, I'll write a separate piece for you. 9. Your ear will need to curve around the rhythm of speech. Your pace will hunger to leave me limping. You will want to catch me as I lurch forward; lead me by elbow or hand; not to repeat yourself; to talk as fast as you do out there. Slow down. Slow everything down. 10. The phrase but you don't look sick can go fuck itself with a moving train covered in chainsaws. 11. Don't use the word inspiration unless you're talking about Whitman, Langston Hughes, John Keats or Jesus. 12. Matter of fact, leave Jesus out of it altogether; he's busy enough. 13. It isn't a wheelchair; it's a fully automated battle station. It isn't a cane; it's a dowsing rod. It isn't a limp; it's a swagger. It isn't a stim—it's how my fabulous self is pulling magic out of the air. 14. I'm not your metaphor. Phantom limbs, deafness, or blindness as figurative language in your poems will result in my unhinging my fucking jaw. 15. If you find yourself saying something that begins with no offense, but I want you to stop. Take a breath. And say to yourself these three sentences: Does this need to be said? Does this need to be said right now? Does this need to be said right now by me? If the answer to any of those is no, return to start do not collect $200. 16. Laugh. 17. Be honest. 18. Your head had best be a microscope. Ask yourself why you're here. But question my motives, too. Slam your hand hard on my buttons. 19. Some kind of dragon needed slaying to get to this room, whether it be the nasty bus driver or the thoughts of suicide. So somebody's probably gonna show up in pajamas, crocks, mismatched socks, un showered, hair falling loose from ponytail—whatever. Either they're embarrassed or don't give a fuck. Either way, they don't need you mentioning it. 20. Speak for me, not over me. 21. Yes, I can have sex. I hope everybody in here writes a jam so graphic it makes your goosebumps mambo just so you never ask a disabled person that ever again, unless you're offering. 22. I don't think shy people become poets, but in case you are, you best chill if you fear the body. If I'm gonna write a colostomy bag free verse or a pantoum about how hard it is to negotiate my period on crutches, I wanna do it in peace. 23. You need Advil? Guaranteed, somebody got you. 24. If I have to leave the room while you're reading, sorry in advance. 25. Let me point out, Tiny Tim has been fucking me over since 1843. If I'm happy, it's taken for a miracle; if I'm not, I remind them of all they have and all the work they have to do. I could be a big smile, a raised fist, an eye glittered with tears. 26. This is the place I come to sharpen my teeth; to weep until I am the Danube. I don't care if you're frightened. 27. Trigger warnings. That is all. 28. Halle Berry, Harriet Tubman, Orlando Bloom, Clinton, Christie, Darwin. A lot of your faves are disabled. Just like a lot of your faves are actually bisexual. (More breaking news at 11.) 29. And while we're on that, being disabled doesn't mean you've checked off your minority box on the form. Just saying. 30. I don't want to talk about me; how's my stanza structure? 31. Intersectionality isn't a buzzword. 32. I will ask if I need your help. Repeat this a billion times. 33. Related note: you wouldn't grab someone on the subway. You'd let your face smash into the pole before steadying yourself on the person next to you. So why in the name of God's teeth would you touch me or whatever apparatus I may have without asking?! 34. Remember, you're one slip in the shower, doctor's visit, missed turn away from being me. 35. If I fall, the way you gasp hurts worse than impact. 36. I'm not blaming you. I'm saying pay attention. 37. Inevitably, someone will be forced to stop coming. Email them; that'd be cool. 38. Even if you pity me, don't mess around when it comes to editing. 39. Your body is so damn fucking beautiful. It's like nothing else. 40. Please remember that compliance with any or all of the aforementioned will not result in praise of any kind, cookies, medals, or otherwise. Thank you. 41. People are like poems. They don't get finished, they just stop.
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Ezra vibes — you’re right and you should say it ❤️
Also — tell me more 👀👀
Uhhhhhh I don't know what happened, but here's 600ish words of some real gen Ezra meta with a side of accidental girldad schmoop and a reader who's worked with Ezra before.
Bish I do not know what this is or if it is good but it is words and I will take it 😅
***
Ezra was not a man you would've ever considered frugal with his words. Point of fact the man carried on so effusively that you had, on more than one occasion, accused him of having lost the key, lock, and latch to his bonebox all together. With time, though, you grew accustomed to the easy chatter, mapping out the cadence and rhythm of his speech, the tone and temperature of his voice, and the meticulous navigation of his vocabulary.
Fringeling dialect was no small part of it - that odd colloquial snarl of Basic, Vayok, and Kevva-only-knew-what that had crossbred and rooted out there at the edge of the Black, a manner of speech that had by design or by chance grown thick and sharp and able to confuse and snare the unwary or dim-witted. But that wasn't the end of it.
Ezra was careful with his words. He rarely lied. Not that he never did, but he seemed to prefer a cautious navigation around the truth rather than an outright lie. On a good day he could talk even the dustiest old floater into pirouettes around a single point of avoidance with a pearl-bright smile and barely a pinprick of sweat on the laddered creases of his brow. On a bad day, well, those were the reasons he preferred such caution. The close scrape of honesty by virtue of a technicality had been his salvation more than once.
All this to say, he was not a man that gave his word lightly. If he gave it at all. Deals, bargains, and arrangements, sure. But oaths; well, those that held an ounce of air were scarce. Promises were a hard thing to keep in the Black, and the folk that drifted out in it long enough to survive it learned to dispense them prudently.
The girl, hard-eyed and unmoving as a gods-damned sand bear, had no mind for such prudence.
You're leaving, she said, arms folded tightly to her narrow chest, fingers digging into the grimy sleeves of her sweatshirt. A statement, not a question, a splinter of fear wedged deep through it.
Hear me out, little bird, Ezra said, his lone hand raised in placation. Two cycles. Three at the most. Long enough to arrive at our destination, make our trade safely, and return. The docking here's paid up for seven, and your room the same. We'll be back long before then, safe and sound and far, far richer than we left.
The girl's eyes landed on you, sharp and cold as stones. If even half of what Ezra said about their time down in the Green was true, you could hardly fault her for her mistrust. Ezra knew you, trusted you. She didn't.
You trust them?
Ezra looked to you, brows hiked high. The shadows under his eyes were lessening finally, but he still looked thinner and more haggard than the sly, round-cheeked man you last saw stepping onto the loading docks at Puggart Bench.
I do, he said, the words plain and unembellished.
The girl scowled, but the set of her shoulders relaxed an inch. You nearly smiled. Brevity was the clearest hallmark of sincerity with Ezra. You knew it; clearly the girl knew it, too.
Two days, Cee, he said again. This is the best price we're like to get on this haul without a corporate contact. Two days, and we come back rich.
Swear. The word left the girl's mouth like a rifle shot. Swear you're coming back.
The lines of Ezra's face slackened, and there was a brief look of understanding in his eyes before an unusual warmth bloomed in its place. And then, slowly, he nodded.
On my life.
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thatgirlsvlog · 15 days
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Scarlet Haired Scarlet ➻ Peter Pevensie
storys masterlist
Chapter One: Judgement Day of the Desperate 
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SUMMARY: Charlotte the Scarlet was sweet,
sure people looked at her differently than others that had appropriately proportioned clothing, but this is how she made her daily bread; yet there were still those that flared their nostrils while she hiked up her skirt, while they walked in their shoes.
Peter signed document after document, meeting after debate, after town hall speech after intense socializing, scheming ball, after this and that.
Reeling, he hide away deep in a cloak to lose hisself in his favorite guilty pleasure.
She was a scarlet.
He was the High King.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LIMITED SERIES;
Completed on...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Judgement Day of the Desperate
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As long as Peter could remember, he was the only one that made all the highest, best decisions. 
He was the oldest. 
He was the man of the English house. 
He was the High King. 
His Great Council at the Round Table never had a chair reserved for his brother or sisters.
He was needed.
"Now," the dapperly washed up man called upon the attention of the Round Table.
Peter's eyes snapped over, instantly, not going unnoticed by the appreciative man.
"This catastrophe of overgrowing Telmarine population on the Narnian-Telmarine margins is stealing from the hard working farms that we Narnians depend on, therefore lessening our necessities." 
"Yes, Lord Maye, I agree; the population on the outskirts has been undoubtedly mostly been Telmarines." Another added agreeably. 
"Now it's time to decide our action with them after that whole festival fiasco with the Telmarine king." Lord Maye furthered. 
Peter's eyes bore into Lord Maye's stoned ones; others' wandered to Peter. 
The question filtered the air with cloudy anticipation. 
"Yes, a real fuck-up ruination." Peter uttered coldly. 
A whirling eddy of 'yes's' echoed from around the table. 
The Council watched as High King Peter signed The Margins Act. 
"Your majesty,"
"Yes, Lord Maye?" Peter answered, without glancing up. 
"There has been a discovery of a man. He actually sounds quite similar to when you were young." 
"Yes?" Peter furthered. 
"Yes," confirmed Maye. "The centaurs found him, he's in the healer's wing now. Though what's strange, he was a desperate, scared man, running clumsily-terrified to death by the centaurs." 
"Poor man." Peter nodded with a sigh. 
The meeting of the Round Table's Great Council concluded with the same start, a generalized statement that lead to signed papers til dwindling back to the same statement. He marched like he was on a mission down the corridors, with a grave face. 
The alcohol floated over his head but there was a bigger better desire drawing him into the fire. 
He was king, and it could burn, but the thought dissolved quickly. 
Peter's eyes ricocheted off the extra, inescapable silent halls. 
He wondered if one of the respectable, quiet servants were working, watching him from down there. 
And so then, there was time to lose.
It was when he got there, at the other side of those woods, watched by Edmund's friendly goons, that he had all the time to do nothing but fantasize; the tightening feeling in his pants, the hot, red hue on his pale blond face, and the sweat that haloed his glided spun hair line. It simply imbued his senses, and unfortunately, Peter was somewhere between scary and disgustingly disturbing, bad things tend to happen. 
On the broken cobblestones, what Peter stared down at to cache his obvious face, with his more obvious thoughts that made up his mind. Although he nearly threw up at the stench of smoke from the wrinkled fingers the madam clenched from. Her eyes followed his yaddo as he walked past with his beefy big shoulders low, very unlike the imagined tall shoulders of a king she imagined they'd be like in one of his portraits. 
Whenever he walked into that place, his mind pounded itself against the thoughts she must be thinking. 
But madam wasn't thinking about anything but the shillings she'd get from this man.
She was old and sage from the lessons she learned about these kind of men. 
"March is busy." Madam stated, amidst her smacking chew of tobacco and from cloud of smoke. 
She sounded like a teenage girl smacking bubblegum, a girl teenage Peter would've blushed at. 
Now, his neutral clothed royal muscle shivers and shuffles away from her grinding loose yellow teeth that popped out from her little flappy lips. 
Peter turned to a stone statue. 
"Who isn't then?" He murmured. 
"Well..."
His pants were itchy, but he was afraid if he scratched he been done with self-embarrassment and resign as king. 
"Oh, the red head-Scarlet. You'll recognize her, the only one of her kind. Last door on the left." Madam instructed.
Peter nodded with eyes straight forward, aligned with his shoulders. 
'Of her kind?' Peter thought to hisself. 
'So many Telmarine prejudices.' 
"Scarlet?" 
"It's actually Charlotte." She said, her eyes were down though, past memorized memories falling like boulders onto her red head. 
Peter nodded as his erection had officially wrecked his trousers as he expected it. 
"Shh, no words, just sounds." Peter ushered to her face. 
Her open door closed behind the king as he watched her undress from the scanty red dress Charlotte sat in. 
She looked like the devil. 
A gorgeous, moony devil that helped undressing Peter and removing his golden halo. 
"Wha-what are you doing?" Peter discombobulated. 
"You obviously don't want to be treated as god, that's why you came to be manhandled by the Devil's Den." Charlotte softly spoke, fingertips angelic. 
"No, no, Scarlet-" he mumbled. 
Sighing she broke away from him and stumped on the springy cot. 
"Charlotte. I mean Charlotte," he corrected. "I like to do it like this." Peter reveled in the rapture from the slow climb over Charlotte who created the soft springs from her sinking body. 
Wow, that body.
No more boredom in meetings, hand cramps, cutting off, interruptions, envy, nothing. Just nothing. 
'Enjoy now, enjoy now, enjoy the present.' He clenched his eyes shut, repeating his mantra.
He was now in control.
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romancomicsnews · 10 months
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Who should play Lex Luthor in the DCU?
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With the DCU casting its red caped hero last month as David Corenswet in Superman Legacy, the Man of Steel's archenemy feels just around the corner.
While nothing is confirmed, names like Nicholas Hoult, Alexander Skarsgard, and Bill Skarsgard have been rumored for the role.
While I have no problem with any of these actors or these Luthors, I feel we can do better.
So before James Gunn throws out a name that will likely break the internet, I thought I'd pitch my three ideas for The DCU's Lex Luthor. Unlike my last fancast (shameless plug for My Flash Fancast Article), I have one actor who I think truly stands beyond the rest.
But first, as always, let's answer a few questions:
What performances are we looking to emulate?
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Much like the Man of Steel himself, Luthor has a number of appearances across DC media, including animation, film, and live action television. So unlike my Flash article, I will not be going through all of them, even the main ones.
While I don't think any performance has been perfect, I think there are several we can draw from to create a better Lex.
I'm going to try to remain positive and only look at performances I appreciate, so instead of dunking on Jesse Eisenberg for 45 minutes, I'll just say quickly: He's doing a real good Mad Hatter in Batman vs Superman.
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1. Michael Rosenbaum - Smallville
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There's a lot to love from this one.
Unlike most iterations of Luthor in media, Rosenbaum begins the series an ally to Clark, even a friend. Luthor is confident, smart, but has a likeability to him I think we have lost in more recent interpretations. All those aspects should be brought over to the DCU.
We need someone who you could believe the city loves almost as much as Superman.
Rosenbaum also had a physical presence and voice to beat. He projected strength, and felt like someone who could throw hands if he needed to.
Finally, his anger and rage were bubbling just beneath all that. He could snap at a moment's notice, and in those moments is where you see the villain. That's what I want from my Lex, someone who mastered masking his demons.
2. Clancy Brown - Superman the Animated Series, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited
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If it wasn't for Rosenbaum, this would be my definitive Lex Luthor.
Clancy Brown has never misunderstood the assignment, as he plays a much more aggressive and fiercer Luthor in the DCAU.
What I love about this Luthor is his ability to become a bigger threat from season to season. Making deals with Darkseid, giving speeches to Amazo, and even fusing with Brainiac, this Luthor could hang and outsmart the best of them.
While he was a little quick to anger in my opinion, this Luthor had that same strength and confidence I absolutely love in Rosenbaum.
Something inbetween these two may make the perfect Luthor.
3. Jon Cryer - Arrowverse
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While there is a huge gap between two and three, I think there is a lot to love about Cryer.
While he is harder to take seriously than the other two, he does show off one thing the others don't, the fun of being the richest, smartest person in the room.
Cryer always felt like Luthor was having fun toying with heroes. Only when he dealt with the Girl of Steel did he really go off the rails.
Do I want a performance as hammy or out there as Cryer? Not necessarily, but someone who can do a little comedy may be fun here.
What ethnicity is Lex Luthor?
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This one doesn't have a definitive answer.
While in most iterations of the character he appears to be white, in Justice League/Justice League Unlimited, some fans speculate he is a person of color, specifically black.
I have mixed feelings on changing a villain into a person of color, as that can have its own implications, especially when their hero wears Red and Blue.
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I do think leaving Lex Luthor as an only white character can take away from the depiction. Luthor sometimes is a self made man, and making him a person of color who clawed his way through oppression only to be seconded by another white man could be an interesting take.
Again my feelings are mixed, but for now I'm going to say either way works.
Any other stipulations?
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Yes, a few.
For one, I will not bring back an actor who played him before, so I'm sorry Rosenbaum fans, maybe next time.
My Luthor will be either A) a friend to Superman of the same age or B) a mentor like figure, still a friend though, at least for the first movie. So age range is anywhere between 30-50.
Unlike Superman, Luthor's are usually played by actors with a name. Jesse Eisenberg and Gene Hackman both are heavy hitters, so I will be looking for actors of similar caliber.
I also don't want to go with actors who have been or are known for different superhero roles. That doesn't mean they can't have ever been in a superhero movie (hint hint) but we're not getting Downey Jr.
If they are bald that is a plus, but not necessary.
Again I think these picks all can do it, but I really love my number 1 pick.
3. Jason Bateman
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This one will probably take the most convincing but think about it.
Known for his wide ranging work such as Ozark, Arrested Development, Game Night & Air, Bateman is a comedic and dramatic force.
At 54, Bateman is my oldest Luthor, but I think he can emulate better than anyone else on this list the fun of Cryer.
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I have a few problems with this casting. While he has a great calming voice, I don't know if it's Luthor. It can be sinister, and it can be friendly, but I don't know how confident it can be.
My other main problem is this Luthor doesn't seem like he can fight. I think this Luthor would feel more like someone who needs the mech suit.
Overall I think this is a fun cast and would be a little unexpected, and a challenge for Bateman. But one I think he could nail.
2. John David Washington
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If we want a cool, strong, and same age Luthor to befriend Superman, I think John David Washington slides into this very well. At 38, Washington still looks like a passable 30.
Known for his roles in Tenet and Malcolm and Marie, Washington I think is our best bet at emulating Rosenbaum. The swagger, the look, and the dangerous presence bubbling beneath the surface.
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My main problem with casting Washington is always the same, does he fit better elsewhere?
Washington is such a versatile actor, he sometimes feels like a blank slate. Would he better suited for Cyclops? Green Lantern? An older Firestorm? Who is to say.
In any case, I'm sure he'll be casted in one of these sooner or later, but Luthor may be an example of right place, right time for Washington.
1. Sterling K. Brown
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Several years ago, I saw an episode of Brooklyn 99, which to this day is my favorite episode, where Jake Peralta and Captain Holt try their absolute best to get this killer to admit his crime or slip up.
He is so intelligent, suave, and calm, that they are unable to break him, until they hit the right nerve, and the bubbling anger boils so hot, he admits everything.
That is Lex Luthor.
And that is Sterling K Brown.
Known for hit shows like This is Us, The People vs OJ Simpson, the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and movies like Black Panther and Waves, Sterling K Brown may be the most underrated actor working today.
Brown has an intensity about him that screams Luthor. He can play likeable and caring like Rosenbaum, he can reach that rage and intensity that Clancy Brown nailed, and have the fun of Jon Cryer.
Brown also has a kindness that reads extremely genuine. You'd get the sense in another world, this Luthor would be a hero.
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At 47, he's old enough to be a mentor to Clark, but still feel formidable, especially with his current physical build.
Brown's Luthor I can see as a staple character for the DCU, appearing as an overarching puppet master, leader of villainous teams, tormentor of many heroes, or even uneasy ally when greater threats emerge.
No matter where they take Luthor as a character, Sterling K. Brown is the right pick to menace the DC Universe for years to come.
Thank you for reading! Let me know who you'd like me to fancast next for Marvel or DC!
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reneesbooks · 10 months
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writeblr positivity tag
my wonderful morbo @serenanymph tagged me <3 gently tagging @lyssa-ink @lena-rambles @zmwrites @winterandwords and under a cut because it's long. blank questions at the bottom <3
1. What motivates you to write?
the thought of holding the finished book in my hands and being able to reread it and share it. also spite
2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)
y'all wanna see maura be a little bit fucked up and evil
“My father said something to me often,” Maura interrupts, her eyes narrowing. “The law is the law. None are exempt.” She tosses a disdainful look at the duchess. “Those who have no respect for the law will always have excuses for breaking it.” She bends down and tips the duchess's chin up with a finger. Keelan's fingers tighten around his sword. Maura tilts her head to the side. “Your Grace,” she says. “You asked for mercy. You shall have it.”
The duchess sobs. “Thank you, Your Majesty—”
“Do not thank me, wretch.” Maura's lip curls. “Your mercy is the mercy allotted by law. Tell me. Which foot do you value more?”
The duchess's lip trembles. “I beg you, Your Majesty, mercy—”
“You shall have it.” Maura's eyes are unforgiving. “Which foot?”
The duchess's eyes dart around the throne room, wide and terrified. “I—I don't know.”
“Hm.” Maura releases her and stands. “She can have more time to decide. Until she does, get her out of my sight.”
3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?
i love all my children equally this is a mean question. currently my favorite chew toy is Jack, who is a minor character in my current wip. Jack is a pathetic disaster bisexual who was left to die as an infant but still managed to survive to adulthood and is using that luck to cause problems on purpose. he steals for a living and flirts for fun and profit. he is in love with his best friend/accomplice Arthur, but can't handle real emotions and is being really thickheaded about it. Arthur is too busy pining for him to notice. Jack is just a little guy. gay boy disaster man. also he killed like 20 people.
4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?
working out plot/worldbuilding issues. i love sitting down and going "ok how am i going to make this make any gddamn sense" and then bouncing ideas around until i hit one that fits perfectly. yeah sex is great but have you ever found the perfect answer to your plot hole that ties together all the recurring themes and arcs in the story AND has an opportunity to use your overcomplicated worldbuilding?
5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)
mainly dialogue. i love imagining conversations and i've been working on dialogue for a long time. my dialogue used to be so cringey so glad i learned from it
6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?
we're all a little unhinged about our own writing so nobody minds when you get a little unhinged about their writing. safe space to be unhinged about people's writing
7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)
i use campfire write and i love it for keeping worldbuilding organized. it has a lot of visual tools which is great for me personally and it's very customizable. highly recommend it, there is a free desktop version that still gets you quite a bit of usage and the mobile app is free
8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)
i've really enjoyed fleshing out the countries outside of Raedora and how their political systems and cultures are different. for example Guildi also is monarchical, but they have an emperor and their law is absolute, followed exactly as written based on the judgment of the emperor. Fierodia, by contrast, is the homeland of the dragons, so they have two governments--one for the humans, and one for the dragons--and both are a little more democratic in nature, with a Council of the Wise (elders) ruling the dragons while the most powerful magical human families sit on another council that takes petitions from representatives sent by villages and cities.
9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?
open a blank document. i do this in a simple text editor (.txt) because it forces me to look at the words more (idk how else to explain it). write the dumbest thing you can think of. literally. if you get stuck, hit enter a few times and start writing something else. yes even if you get stuck in the middle of a sentence. do NOT let yourself sit there staring at a blank document, just write. even if it's bad and stupid and doesn't make sense. ESPECIALLY if it's bad and stupid and doesn't make sense. write the stupid little plot bunnies that you came up with in line at starbucks. bullet point a short story you'll never write. purposefully write the most gd-awful purple prose. have some silly little fun with it. rewrite snl episodes that you think would be funnier if you were in charge. anytime you are stuck for more than like 30 seconds hit enter three times and try something else. rinse and repeat until the gears start turning for the thing you actually want to work on.
save these files (i have a little dedicated spot on my drive) so that you don't lose your funky little experimental stuff. you never know what you'll find there later.
10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters
i adore @serenanymph's wip beast and all the blorbos found within and how much she supports lacuna. @lyssa-ink's wips my beloved. @zmwrites has some incredible wips and an amazing writing style. i love the worldbuilding from @akindofmagictoo's dragonsong and @oh-no-another-idea is one of the biggest sweethearts on this website.
blank questions:
1. What motivates you to write?
2. A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)
3. Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?
4. What process of writing do you enjoy the most?
5. What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)
6. What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?
7. A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)
8. A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)
9. What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?
10. Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest supporters
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strangerswarehouse · 2 years
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Not too long ago, I just decided to draw the reference of Flumpty's favourite humanization. There are a couple of headcanons here, if you don't mind, ehehe The design DOESN'T belong to me, it belongs to someone else! (Indicated on the reference) More info(headcanons), but a small part of a lot I came up with XD I'm always happy to have questions, especially if it's about my favourite things! ------------------------------------
Floyd " Flumpty " Bumpty is overly emotional and thoughtless. "Sociopath". He's a freakishly hyperactive, unable to sit in one place for long and looking for fun in anything. If he, something he wants, there is practically nothing to stop him from achieving the goal and getting what he wants. He is also a person who is capable of doing something illegal only because of his own needs. Otherwise, he behaves like a child. Throwing tantrums in the rage. Can also lose his temper over some petty things. Can't stand being alone. Along with movement, he needs and communication, at least with someone, even if he sees those for the first time. Otherwise he may even go losing control and get violent towards potential friends or even real friends if they ignore him. (Best not to use ignoring them as a way to get him to apologise for something). Easy to anger, takes a long time to calm down, but is not at all vindictive. Can treat his enemies neutrally, if not positively, and even in a serious confrontation keep a positive attitude as long as they aren't trying to kill or seriously hurt him. As if flirting with them. On the surface, though he looks a little silly, but he is quite cunning and dodgy. But at times, he can get too frisky, which will backfire on him. He's not naive at all. He can smell a trick a mile away. He is quite difficult to deceive, and will try to unravel the truth as long as necessary. He's quite attentive to detail. Takes a long time to get a good look at anything he's interested in. He's ravenous and really demanding to eat. He'll need plenty of food and a good sleep to nourish his god essence. He's also an avid drinker of wine sweet or even dry red. As in friendship, Flumpty is utterly inexperienced in love. Trying to imitate someone, such as a romantic hero in a film or a book, or trying to do things his own way, sometimes without thinking of his partner's thoughts, which comes out bad.
A man with a rather high and resonant voice. Able to sing since childhood, as he had been taught by his carer from his homeworld. Was taught a completely different language, and once on Earth he had to retrain. Because of this there is an accent in his speech, so he sometimes speaks through his nose. Also, he likes to read.
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