#I love kermit but i have no choice

[mathispower4me]

Out of all the fandoms out there i never would have guessed that we would have beef with the MUPPETS

[horseimagebarn]

I am going to get you and all your little horses will suffer...

how can you love kermit and joker if you yourself are incapable of spreading anything but selfish vindication i dedicate this blog to seeing the beauty in some of the most controversial yet standard creatures on the internet and yet you dedicate yourself to hatred and violence towards everything unless it pleases your twisted logic and niche interests i and my horses will not suffer because even when we feel pain we know that joy will live on in this world through love and respect and yet you deny yourself that and seek destruction instead of love if cain had truly loved abel if jacob had truly loved esau would the world not have been a bit easier for you and i in this modern era to navigate if adam and eve hadnt been fueled by only basic and animal emotions like hate and jealousy if they had thought with empathy and rationality would they have not been aware enough to see past the serpents urging why did they all have to seek more for themselves at the fault of others when there was so much raw beauty around them in nature why shouldnt one be happy the world is full of love even if there is a horse like bucephalus who shares in it do you think bucephalus had any choice in the life he was given why must you be so full of hatred and so quick to blame a creature whose agency was wholly removed through thousands of years of domestication dont you understand that life is simply a challenge to find contentment in your circumstances and bucephalus has done his best in his circumstances to find it why cant you accept the same challenge why must you run from it and blame all those who have succeeded where you have so willingly and grievously failed

[platinumshawnn]

Bound by Blood and Fire -- benjicot blackwood x tully!oc (pt i)

A/N: Hi, if it's terrible and has some stupid stuff in it that doesn't make sense i beg of you to pity and be gentle with me as it was written over the course of a spontaneous overnight shift that turned into a sixteen hour work day <33 Also, character was given a name because I don’t like writing “y/n”

Masterlist

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Synopsis: Lady Tully and Kermit travel to Raventree to reunite with a long-time family acquaintance amidst finalizing the details of the pending nuptials with Lord Blackwood.

"To my dear Lady Serra," he announced loudly enough for all to hear, "who, I am told, has a tongue as sharp as her needlework. Pray, let's hope she proves as skilled with her wifely duties as she is with her embroidery."

warning(s): Mentions of blood, era related content/sexism/violence, adult language (i.e., innuendos), mentions of arranged marriage, mentions of family physical violence (father-son, shoving).

word count: 6.6k

 Lady Tully was not the type who particularly enjoyed wandering beyond the walls of Riverrun. She only ever left the safe confines of its boundaries under circumstances in which she had little to no other choice -- if only by force of her father’s hands by whatever command; often it was an event of necessity in which her father insisted her presence was vital, “To put on a strong, united front -- that the House of Tully and its members remain united as ever.” 

It was always a conversation that required a lot of begging on her father’s side, pleading with his daughter to see reason, and often ended in a bribe that would prompt her to reluctantly agree. She wasn’t one for negotiating and often did not want more than to be left alone with her books, to stay back at home in the comfort of her library, but she was stubborn and would only cave out of guilt and obligation for her dear father. She truly did love the man -- as did her love her; his little dove. 

She hadn’t been nearly as close to him as a child, but following her mother’s passing, she and her father had worked to build something of a relationship. Before that moment, she had always been closer to her mother -- a kind, soft-spoken woman who embodied what it was to be a proper household lady; one who upheld duty and honor. She was loving and gentle with her children, and if her daughter had been anything like her, she would have been the perfect woman to model her likeness after. Instead, she had been considered odd -- a little “out of sorts” according to other children of House Tully, who had relentlessly teased her as a child. She could recall the years of sneers and jabs, tugging on her dress and pushing her into mud puddles, leaving her sobbing in the fields behind her home. And despite her mother wishing she had just enjoyed playing “lady of the house” and making pretend with the other girls, or wishing that she enjoyed dresses and fantasizing about the day she was married to a doting husband like the other girls her age, the sight of her daughter running inside with tear streamed cheeks; covered in dirt and desperately reaching for her mother with her chubby hands as a young child, her mother’s facade would drop; all those selfish wishes out the window as she consoled the girl who clung to her skirt. If there was anything she remembered about her mother, it was how fiercely she loved her children and how willing she was to set fire to the realm to protect them despite her gentle nature. 

And often on days like this, she yearned to have just one more moment like that with her mother. 

The ride to Raventree Hall was long and silent as the two siblings sat across from each other, having not said a word to one another since their journey had begun two days prior. Kermit had tried to spark conversation by making small talk, making the odd comment about the weather, or the journey -- he had even tried to scold her on the first day, face pinched into a scowl of annoyance when his hours of rambling and several attempts at even joking with her were left unanswered. 

“You can’t ignore me forever -- please, you have to see reason, sister. I did not have any other choice.” He pleaded, reaching across to attempt to take her hand, her gaze only briefly turning to look at him, eyes scanning his face as she had noted the way his shoulders dropped; slumping forward and looking defeated as though he had just lost some bet. “If I had had any other choice, I assure you I would have taken it.” 

Since then, she hadn’t even bothered to look at him. More often than not, she felt his gaze on her, watching her carefully as though he was waiting for her to change her mind and say something. More often than not, he would be met with silence and not even as much as a look in return, only to then realize she was stubbornly still behind decision to ignore him and huffing in frustration before looking out the other window of the carriage that rocked and swayed over the bumpy trail. She knew they were nearing Raventree and despite that she was not happy with the circumstances of her presence there, she would be grateful to get out of the small space she’d shared with her brother for too long  -- although the memory was vague and distant, shrouded in fog, she could recall this journey from a time in her childhood; clinging to her mother’s hand while Kermit and Oscar excitedly babbled to their father about their time spent there, spewing stories of their training and the mischief they had gotten into with the Heir himself. She just needed space from him. 

“I do not understand….” Kermit suddenly said, her gaze still fixed out the window to look over the vast pastures that seemed to stretch on forever. The only thing that implied otherwise was that if she squinted close enough, really focused, she could make out the shape of the Brackens estate, Stone Hedge, fully aware that somewhere between here and there there was some invisible line that separated the two houses. “I do not understand why it is such a big deal to you. Of all the lords and their heirs…” he spat, that same temper she had become all too familiar with boiling over the edge once more, ”I combed through the realm as best I could, as painstaking as it was to ensure you were promised the best match, I did it. I searched high and low for someone with honor and loyalty, a husband who I could guarantee would treat you well. Of everything I have done for you…and you can’t even be grateful for all the effort I have made?” He rambled, scoffing. 

Her gaze darted up towards the sky as she wrung her hands, the orange hues of sunset blending into something beautiful as she processed his words; her chest rose with a sudden sharp inhale as her chest seemed to fill with emotion she couldn’t quite put her finger on -- frustration? Anger? Grief? 

“You know Benjicot-- we have known him since we were children. He is a dear friend of mine and I would trust him with my life, sister.” Kermit added, his gaze burning into the side of her face. 

Her left hand rose, fingers coming to her lips and absentmindedly rubbing across them as she fought the urge to anxiously chew at the skin there; to gnaw until they were bloody. She suddenly dropped the hand back into her lap, “But I did not choose him, Kermit.” She suddenly replied, her hands clenched into fists so hard her nails dug into her palms as her gaze finally turned to him. It was then, for the first time in two days, that his features softened as though he was relieved to just get as much of a word in response -- that finally he was not just speaking into the air, met with silence; even if she did not agree with him, he appeared grateful and even guilt-struck as she stared at him. “You could not have even given me that decency at least.” 

Kermit nodded, a meek gesture as his gaze dropped briefly to look down and away from her. He was silent for a moment, her attention being fixated back out the window to take in the last of their journey and the sights that came with it as a silence fell over them once more that she broke again after a pause. “He tore that blue dress I used to love…do you remember that?” She suddenly spoke. 

Kermit frowned, his head tilting to the side as he looked at her with his mouth opening, searching through any memories he had of them as children alongside a young Ben. She looked at him again, scanning his face as though she was hoping for a sign of recognition to her prompt. “With the red stitching, I wore it all the time when I was ten and two. Mother had gotten it for me on my name day just before she died.” She explained, her voice softening slightly as she recalled the memory — and suddenly, there, she saw the recognition cross her brother’s features as his eyes went wide and eyebrows rose with his mouth open in the shape of an ‘o’. 

“You wouldn’t leave your chamber without it— you caused quite the stir anytime anyone suggested you wear another one.” He suddenly said, sitting up straighter with a small smile on his face. 

“You don’t remember what he did, do you?” She asked again. She could see the confusion sink in, struggling to grasp the memory. “He tore it right down the back of the skirt— stomped his heel right into it and shoved me into a puddle twice the size of me. He said it looked stupid— that the sigil was crooked. He ripped it and Father forced me to burn it, saying it smelled so bad it was lingering all through the house. It was the last gift I had from her.” She quietly explained, her hands suddenly clasping to one another and wringing themselves as she looked down at them. 

Suddenly it dawned on him. Kermit had only caught bits of it and had not been present when it happened, but he remembered that day — behind Raventree just six moons since their mothers passing; Benjicot had just received his new dagger as a gift from his uncle as a gift on his name day and had been quite proud of it. Kermit had been so preoccupied with their sparring game he had hardly noticed. Even when he did, he did not think that things would escalate so quickly. He’d heard the sudden yelling after Ben had tripped over her, not seeing where she was crouched, distracted by a caterpillar that was crawling along her hands that she hadn’t noticed him when she stood up suddenly from the tall grass. Ben had been rushing backward and tumbled over her, sending the pair into the mud — and while Ben didn’t mind mud, he didn’t appreciate the gash in his arm from his dagger just nicking his bicep when he fell. 

Shame filled him as he recalled looking away and not intervening as Benjicot had gotten into her face, hurling insults at the poor girl who was more distracted by trying to find her bug companion to even issue an apology; wide-eyed and teary-eyed as she looked up at him in absolute terror. Even as children, Benjicot had had a temper, crushing the bug in her hand and shoving her — only then did Kermit rush to her aid and intervene. He knew Benjicot had felt bad for the whole situation, guilt and shame on his face as soon as he had done it — Kermit had seen the tears in his eyes even; only to then be hurried back to the house to be tended to for his wound. But he realized there had never been any apology afterward and in the years following, there hadn’t been many opportunities to speak about it or mend things as they hardly found themselves in each other’s company. 

“How can you promise that he will be good to me?” She asked, interrupting her brother’s thoughts. 

He suddenly looked at her again, his voice wavering in confidence, “He’s grown, sister. He is not the same boy he once was.” Kermit tried to reason, knowing the truth behind it — Benjicot had grown and matured since they had last seen each other; learned to cool his temper where necessary. But that didn’t seem to be enough for his sister, a grim look on her face as her mouth pressed into a fine line, eyes narrowing slightly, her skepticism written clearly on her face. 

“He will make a loyal and dutiful husband, I promise you. Is that not what matters?” He asked, pleading with her. 

“I did not choose him, Kermit.” She said once more. “I did not want this.” 

—

They had fallen into silence once more following their conversation and she had returned to not looking at him for the rest of their ride. Thank the Gods, it was only an hour more, but Kermit wasn’t sure if he felt more relieved or discomforted by the conversation; eyes on her and chewing his nails as the guilt he had suppressed these past two days returned, rearing its ugly head in his face. Maybe he had rushed her too soon and been rash in his decision — maybe he should have fought harder to postpone any betrothals or for anyone else. But it seemed to be a cause too far gone to be possible to turn back on now as they pulled into the gates of Raventree. 

Kermit had gotten out first, offering his hand to his sister who was slow to follow in stepping out of the carriage to where Lord Samwell and his counsel stood ready to greet them. He’d been relieved that she had accepted it, though her apprehension was visible as she eyed it before taking it and stepping down the stairs, hanging close to his side as they approached the house. Lord Samwell immediately stepped forward, excited at their arrival but containing it as he smiled at the pair, "Kermit, it is an honor to host you at Raventree Hall as usual. I’m glad to see you made it safely.” He said, his attention turning to his sister just as she offered a polite smile and a curtsy to the Lord, “Lady Tully, it is a pleasure to see you again, too. It has been many moons since we have last seen one another— though, I presume we will be seeing more of each other soon.” 

"Thank you, Lord Samwell. I bring warm regards from my father as well as his regrets as he could not join us tonight, he will be arriving later tomorrow instead -- he had some business to attend to.” Kermit replied, a hand reaching out to his sister and encouraging her hand to his elbow as he looked between the two, “He sees great promise in this match and believes it will bring strength and unity to the Riverlands. My sister, Lady Serra, is eager to meet Benjicot -- seems she hasn’t seen much of him since she was all but… ten?” 

Samwell chuckled, “Come now, Kermit, there is no need for such formalities so soon. You’ve only just arrived.” He said, encouraging the younger man to approach and come inside, “I imagine your sister and Benjicot will have much to catch up on, but first I imagine she would like to get settled. Melinda, see to it that Lady Tully’s belongings are brought to her chambers immediately.” 

Kermit’s face flushed in embarrassment, a subtle pink that spread up his neck and into his cheeks as the older Lord led them inside; the Tully’s sharing a glance as they timidly followed indoors, just as a slew of servants hurried to gather their belongings from the carriage, brushing past them. “I do apologize for my son’s absence— seems he decided now was conveniently the best time to go on a hunt with his cousins. Though I do imagine you are as best familiar with his antics as anyone.” Samwell rambled, glancing back to Kermit with a knowing look — even through the humor in his tone, she could sense his annoyance. 

As they entered the hall, her gaze wandered to scan their surroundings, reminded once again of the few visits she had taken there in her childhood. “You have a beautiful home, Lord Blackwood. I forgot…how beautiful it is out this way.” She softly said, just as the trio stopped near the door of the stairs, Samwell’s face pulling into a smile. 

“Soon enough this will be your home, too. I want you to feel as at home as you do in Riverrun— if there is anything we might be able to do to make your stay more comfortable, please,” he said, stepping forward to take her free hand in his. “Do not hesitate to ask. I will see to it myself that all your needs are met.” Lord Samwell stated, his tone laced with sincerity. 

She stared at his hand over hers for a moment, freezing at the gesture and sucking in a deep breath as her gaze was forced up to his face. A polite smile once again graced her features, “Thank you.” 

“I’ll have Alistair show you to your room— I imagine you would like to rest. Are you hungry at all, my lady?” He inquired, a look of concern etched into his features as he waited for her reply, releasing her hand as she then took the chance to pull away from her brother with a quick look in his direction. 

Maybe it was the uneasiness at the realization she was now in his territory, but the thought of food churned her stomach, “No, no. I am fine, thank you, Lord Blackwood. As you said, I thought I might get settled and rest ahead of tomorrow’s feast. It has been a long journey.” She explained, her voice sweet as she spoke, the same polite small never leaving her face — however, she was eager just to get away  from the stifling reality of just what was in store for her over the next couple of weeks. She watched as the Lord nodded, waving over a guard who hung close to his right, stepping forward with the gesture. 

“Alistair, see to it that Lady Tully finds her room okay.” Samwell instructed, his attention turning to her brother. “The young Lord Tully and I have matters to discuss then.” 

Kermit’s gaze once again bored into her as she began to follow the guard, her head turning to look over her shoulder at him; though they were silent, she gave him a look that assured she was okay — a small nod that was subtle, but enough assurance for her brother to nod back and follow Lord Samwell as he began to stride in the opposite direction towards a gathering room. 

— 

She didn’t know how long had passed. It could have been minutes, hours, days even — she wasn’t even aware at this point. She had been too lost in the sight of the flames that licked at the singed walls of the fireplace to even pay much attention; having curled up with her knees to her chest as she sat on the floor in front of it, playing with the ends of her hair that had been braided and laid over her shoulder. Some young servant girls had been sent to help in unpacking and getting settled in, but just as quickly as they had arrived, they were gone and since then, she had taken to her spot on the floor and had yet to move. The castle was silent at this point, though, aside from the distant shouts of guards who were still hankering down for the night, sinking into the routine of night shift. 

It was only when her stomach grumbled that she thought to move, her joints aching with the movement as she pushed herself to her feet and brushed off her skirts, debating on dragging herself from her room to venture down the hallways in hope she could find something to eat. Though she doubted she would have any luck, she had timidly opened her door, coming face to face with the guard who had lead her to her room hours prior posted outside — his expression hinted confusion and curiosity as she emerged from her room, stepping into the hallway, “My lady?” 

“I was wondering if it was possible to get something to eat— I understand it’s late, I just…” she quietly said, her hands smoothing over the fabric of her gown. 

He seemed to consider her request, nodding after a short pause and turning, “Follow me, my lady.” 

She was quiet as she followed the guard — an older man, probably near that of her father’s age and without hair, stoic and still-faced. With her hands clasped in front of her as he lead her through the hallways, she was lead down the stairs back towards where they had entered earlier, her eyes taking this opportunity to better scan the contents of the walls — the artwork that displayed paintings of the Blackwood’s sigil and their history. In better lighting, she could presume it would be breathtaking, but in the dark there was almost eerie shadow cast upon them, making each line look more harsh than the next; like the paintings were staring down at her, watching her every move. 

Her gaze was torn away at the sound of voices carrying from the meeting room her brother had descended to when they had parted ways, laughter heard through the doors as she gathered her skirts in her hands, lifting them out of her way as she walked down the stairs; ensuring she did not trip over them, her eyes fixed on the large, ceiling tall doors. She had wondered what the source to her brother’s laughter was— surely, forcing her hand to a man she hardly knew was not a laughing matter? Her eyebrows furrowed as she stopped at the base of the stairs, her head turned to face the doors, despite Alistair calling her name in an effort to regain her focus on the task at hand, but his calls fell on deaf ears. She slowly approached the doors, the two guards standing outside them sharing a look before looking down at the woman, who reached out; fingers brushing the wood of the doors, curious...

The two guards moved, pushing the doors open for her, prompting them to swing open at the nod of Alistair, who had long given up on stopping her. The doors opened to reveal her brother and Lord Samwell sat at the table, caught mid-laughter as she entered; hands filled with goblets of what she could only assume was wine. Their laughs died down as their attention was suddenly turned to take in her startled appearance, her hand still raised to reach out in front of her as she looked between them. Lord Samwell cleared his throat, her brother and him both standing at her arrival, “My lady, what a surprise.” He greeted, his head bowing to her, a smile on his face. “Benjicot, here, was just telling us about his hunt.” He announced, his eyes landing on his son to his right, sitting directly across from her brother.

Her gaze followed his, landing on the man who resembled nothing of the boy she had once known -- a handsome man grown, tall and lean in build, with broad shoulders adorned by a blood stained tunic and cloak. His hands were still stained with dried blood as he lifted his own cup to his mouth, taking a large gulp of its contents as he let out a muffled chuckle with full cheeks. The sight of blood on such a handsome face, however could have made her sick to her stomach. 

“I thought you were asleep.” Kermit suddenly said, noticing her gaze frozen on the young man opposite of him, attempting to redirect the conversation as he stumbled over his chair in an effort to approach her. Her eyes only darted to him briefly as she watched him stagger towards her, obviously noticing his disheveled appearance and evident drunkenness. Benjicot’s gaze, too, followed his friend as he made his way across the room towards his younger sister, whose face screwed up in a look of disgust at her brother’s current state; the younger Blackwood Lord’s lips parted as the trace of a grin danced on the corners of his mouth, teeth bared as his tongue pressed against to the corner of his mouth. “We were just celebrating your marriage, here— sister, come toast with us.” Kermit slurred, stumbling into his sister, who reached out to catch him just as her brother slung an arm around her shoulders. 

Her gaze lingered on her brother who giggled stupidly, her eyes downcast as her cheeks heated from the embarrassment of his behavior -- if only their father had been there to witness it. 

Suddenly, Benjicot’s gruff voice spoke up, drawing attention from the three members of his audience as he stifled a laugh, “I have a toast. For my betrothed..” He announced, glancing around at the three as his eyes then stopped on her, catching her gaze and causing her cheeks to further burn. His words had even caused Samwell to stand at attention, eagerly awaiting his son’s next words as the young boy lord had to suppress a laugh, that same grin on his face as he then tilted his head. 

 "To my dear Lady Serra," he announced loudly enough for all to hear, "who, I am told, has a tongue as sharp as her needlework. Pray, let's hope she proves as skilled with her wifely duties as she is with her embroidery."

Kermit let out a drunken snort from beside her clearly not understanding the suggestion in his state, her body tensing and becoming rigid as she stared back at him, her eyes widening in horror at his words. Even his father, who she could make out in the corner of her eye, looked horrified, his cup faltering as it had risen to the toast; only to be slammed down onto the table as she stood frozen in shock that the words had even just come from his mouth, his mouth now preoccupied with gulping down the remainder of his drink before dropping the cup to his plate with a loud clatter that caused her to jump timidly. 

“Benjicot!” 

“Oh, father, please…” Benjicot began to say, amusement laced in his words as he began to walk away from his seat and in her direction, “I only jest. Surely, Lady Tully knows that.” He said, dismissing his father as he looked at the woman who began to grab her brother by his waist, teeth clenched and avoiding his gaze suddenly and beginning to back away in the direction of the door she had just come through. 

“Come, brother, I think it is time for bed.” She muttered, earning a laugh from Benjicot when Kermit stumbled over his own two feet in the attempt to turn around. Samwell quickly circled the table away from his seat, striding towards the pair with an outstretched hand. 

“Here, let me help you.” He stated, concern laced in his warm voice. 

“It is okay, we just…need to go to bed, right, Kermit?”

“Don’t be foolish, here.” Lord Samwell insisted, grabbing her brother’s opposite arm and hauling half his weight off her shoulders as he supported him in his walk towards the door and to the stairs to their rooms. “Alistair can help you both to your rooms-- I think we have all had enough for tonight.” Samwell stated, his head turning to look pointedly at his son.

Benjicot watched on as his father then exited the room, along with their sibling guests, pacing back towards the table where he leaned into it with his palms; preening to see watch as the doors were closed much to his disappointment -- though, he had caught a glimpse of Kermit standing up and waving off his sister as he clutched onto the staircase railing with a grumble. He let out a hum. 

He knew that the servants would have a hay day with the dining room when they arrived to tidy it, dried bloody hand prints smeared across the furniture and dishes, the floors soaked by the rain he’d dragged in with him as he seemed to leave a trail of water behind him. He hovered over the table that was nestled right perfectly in the center of the room, the torchlight above still faintly glowing but slowly dying out as he plucked through the contents of what was leftover from dinner, his gaze cast down on the table as his father hurried back into the dining room where they had been gathered; hearing his footsteps approach as the doors were closed behind him.

“Could you not have had the decency to be kinder to her?” Samwell asked, his voice low as he stood opposite the table to where his son stood. “You’re already covered in blood, the poor girl is probably already scared enough as is-- you are going to scare this one off and we cannot afford…”

“She was your choice, father, yours. Not mine.” Benjicot replied with a sigh, as he glanced into a jug he had found amidst the scraps to confirm that there was indeed wine left at least, his mouth turning upside down and eyebrows raising briefly with a subtle shrug — not much left but it would suffice for the heir, taking an empty goblet that clanked against dishes as he plucked it with his free hand. Benjicot turned the goblet upside down, dumping out any remaining traces of drink that had been leftover, “She’s…a half-witted moron. I do not see why I must be the one to marry her. Why not you?” He said, sighing as he reached for another couple of grapes from the table, tossing them into his mouth and washing them down with a gulp of wine. 

Samwell watched on as his son moved to sit, mouth partially agape in utter horror at his words. There was no doubt that Benjicot had not been keen to the idea of marriage these past couple of years -- not since his mother had passed, but there was no denying the shame his words brought their house. Samwell tensed, seething as he sucked in a sharp inhale as his gaze went to the doors that may have been the only source to conceal his insult from the prying ears of Kermit Tully and his sister; abruptly lunging forward and across the room towards his son, who had been mid-sit, however jumping straight back up on his feet just as his father reached him. The two men were suddenly face to face, Lord Samwell’s face screwed up in a scowl of disgust whilst grabbing the collar of his son’s cloak in a stumbled wrestle of Benjicot’s free hand coming up as if to shield himself with the still half full goblet in his other hand. 

“You— petulant, spoiled child.” Samwell hissed, shoving his son backwards on his feet, knocking him into the side of the chair he had once gone to sit in; an arm flying out to grasp for something to catch himself and instead losing the goblet that had been in his hand in a clatter of dishes and food being flung from the table to the floor. Benjicot’s eyes were wide as he stumbled back over the mess, his wine spilled somewhere between the table and floor, his sleeve stained and sticky against his wrist from the fall as he landed on his backside; left staring up at his father, who had let him go and caught himself against the table. 

His eyes wide, mouth open like a fish out of water, stuttering, “Wh- wha — ” he had begun to say, hurrying to stand back up on his feet, scuttling back a few steps as his father fought the urge to lunge for him again, Benjicot’s gaze going down to his legs; watching, waiting — like his training, awaiting his opponent's next move but yet cowering like a scared child as they stared back at one another, both breathing heavily in the aftermath. The servant girl who had entered to help with cleaning up had even been startled by the outburst and gone cowering out of the dining hall; seeking shelter in the kitchen with her cloth in her hands. Benjicot glanced towards the table and door quickly, his left hand wiping off the slick of wine on his tunic, squaring his shoulders as he attempted to stand upright, straight as a board and regain his usual composure that eluded some false facade that his father had not bested him and that he was brave even in the face of his rage. He swallowed, his mouth closing as he looked back at his father, who was still evidently stewing in his fury, his fist clenching finally as he let out a frustrated sigh that bounced off the walls. 

“Do you not understand how much I have done for you? To secure your future? As my heir?” Samwell growled, approaching his son again who took a quick two-step backward, nearly bumping into another chair, his feet banging into silverware that had fallen to the floor. Samwell Blackwood was typically a cool, level-headed man — never one to put a hand on his son, even when he acted up and defied his orders in his youth — but now, amidst the war looming near, something about his words had caused something inside him to snap. His shoulders slumped, relaxing, as his fist unclenched with another sigh as he took another couple of steps towards him, his hand reaching up to grab Benjicot’s face, “This war is bigger than just you and I, bigger than some childish feud over stones and boundary lines with the Brackens, Benjicot. The Brackens have declared for Aegon—”

Benjicot’s wide eyes stared at his father, swallowing thickly as he spoke, processing his words. Of course, the Brackens would declare for Aegon— 

“This will be a war of dragons. This war will bring all of the realm to its knees.” Samwell said, voice low enough that just the two of them could hear. His hand released his face, going to the back of his neck, “We must be prepared and find strength in our allies. Our house must live on. You must secure the longevity and future of this house— it is your birthright, Benjicot. Just as it was mine before, and my father’s before. If I die, this house is yours. Do you understand?” He muttered, his tone now pleading as he searched his son’s face, eyes wild and desperate as they awaited some response from him that suggested he understood. 

Benjicot felt as his father’s grip tightened around the nape of his neck, squeezing and giving him an abrupt shake that was more of a jerk, his eyes still wide in shock at his father’s outburst. His father’s eyebrows rose as he gave a weak, timid nod in reply, hesitant as he grits his teeth and clenched his jaw, “Yes?” 

Benjicot nodded again, more confidently this time, “I understand.” He said. 

Samwell hesitated, blinking a couple of times before he nodded too, releasing his son and frowning as he glanced down, mumbling something incoherent that resembled ‘good’ before he glanced at the mess he had made. Benjicot remained tense and frozen in place even after his hold was gone, hands falling to his sides as his father slowly receded towards the door that led back to where the Tullys were left, at the landing of the stairs. “Ser Eryn, see to it that this is…tidied up, fetch the servant girl. We are expecting guests tomorrow…for the heir’s betrothal feast.” He quietly said, approaching the guard who stood by the door, leaving his son in his spot as he withdrew to his chambers for the night. The guard nodded in response to his father’s order, not even glancing at Ben as he walked past the kitchen to fetch the girl as instructed. 

Ben waited for a few moments before he timidly followed his father’s path towards the door figuring he was best to get some rest ahead of the day’s festivities. He paused at the doors before opening them to smooth out his bloodied tunic, straightening his cloak and once again, squaring his shoulders as he stood upright and attempted to regain some sort of composure; knowing that Kermit and his Lady sister were presumably just behind those doors, waiting. He sucked in a deep breath with one last glance to the floor, his mouth pressed into a tight line; his bottom lip quivering for a moment as he stifled a cry, sniffling to himself once, twice… he lifted his head, using his sleeve to wipe his nose and blinking back any sign of weakness in the form of a tear before he shoved the door open and emerged from the dining room. There, as expected, Kermit and Serra stood, their eyes on him and failing to suppress their pitiful looks as Benjicot found his usual stoic gaze, and expression blank as he nodded his head in the direction of the siblings. 

Kermit’s expression hardened, nodding back in return, in part because he understood — a silent understanding between the two young men. Benjicot’s gaze then shifted to the girl who stood on the second to last stair, clutching onto the railing as the dying orange glow from the torches of the hall lit up her expression; her gaze softening as she looked on at him, her expression something of sadness, “Benjicot…” she quietly said, his name a breathy sound on her lips. 

“I apologize for my appearance, my lady. I did not anticipate you to already be here upon my return.” He gruffly said, voice quiet. “I would have cleaned up had I known.”

He held her eye, watching as the wheels turned in her brain, confused by his sudden change and reaction as she glanced around before blinking rapidly and nodding, “It’s alright, I…understand you were away on a hunt.” She mumbled, voice soft. 

“I assure you I will be cleaned up and much more presentable ahead of tomorrow’s celebrations.” He said, hesitating as he swallowed before taking the few steps to close the distance between them, his eyes darting briefly to Kermit who watched on; his eyes looking up at her from the end of the bottom step, their height difference only then balanced out by her leverage on the stairs as they were suddenly eye to eye for the first time. His right hand reached out for her left, inquiring as if to confirm it was okay before taking her hand in his, “You should get some rest. I will see you in the morrow.” He said, his gaze on hers as his head ducked, lifting her hand to his lips to press a gentle kiss to her knuckles before allowing her hand to drop from his. He watched as she gave him another timid nod just as he released her hand and began to walk up the stairs, brushing past her to withdraw to his bedchambers for the night, leaving the pair at the base of the stairs. 

Benjicot appreciated the awaiting bath drawn for him when he returned to his rooms more than he ever had and wanted nothing more than to wash the events of the day off of him as he undid the pin to his cloak; sliding the fabric from his shoulders and throwing it over a chair as he walked further into the room. His expression was blank as he stared into the flames of the fire that had been started to keep his room warm enough to his liking as he stripped down. Once he was fully naked, he approached the tub and stepped in, slowly sinking himself into the warmth of the water that came up to his chest once he was sat flush in the tub, his hands still gripping the ledges. Quickly, he could already see the blood that had stained itself into every little crevice of his skin wash off and rather, mingle into the water in diluted swirls as the dirt, grime and blood dyed the water. He sucked in a deep breath before sliding forward, submerging his head under the water.

TAGLIST: @deltamoon666 @drwho-ess @callsigncrushx @clarityisnofun @jhepolie @juhdoche , @username199945

[nortism]

fuck it, fan casting the les misérables muppet movie:

fozzie bear as jean valjean - idk it just feels right

sam the eagle as javert - just look at him, that’s javert

any human as fantine and cosette. i deliberated over who should be the human but i think this is the right choice so there’d be at least one person present throughout most of the story

kermit and miss piggy as monsieur and madame thénardier - i considered them for marius and cosette but i feel like it could be interesting to have them in a villian role. also having a human child being abused by miss piggy is very funny to me

miss piggy and kermit’s children from a muppets christmas carol as éponine, gavroche and azelma - it writes itself. also i find the idea of éponine being a really sad pig to be very funny

beaker as marius pontmercy - i want him to only say meep meep meep throughout the whole film and i want human cosette to be incredibly in love with him regardless.

bean bunny as enjolras - yeah i don’t have an explanation for this one

gonzo and scooter as courfeyrac and combeferre - courfeyrac as gonzo feels so right to me in a way i can’t explain. also combeferre is there idk

rizzo as grantaire - idk it just felt right

[ramielll]

I was waiting for you -Part 3

Benjicot Blackwood x fem reader

Contains: fluff, idiots in love, slow burn, flirting

Word count: 1966

Tw: men being men, some Frey hate

part4

≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫≪ °❈° ≫

Y/N slept soundly until the knock of her appointed handmaid woke her. Dressed in her favourite gown, decorated with silver embroidery, her hair loosely braided, she made her way to the great hall to break her fast with the lads. She has found only her brother and Benji seated by the table. Her entrance made Benjicot sprung out if his chair so fast, it nearly fell behind.

„Good morrow brother, Benji.” She smiled brightly at him, trying to stifle a laugh. „Good morrow Y/N”

The two of them missed the glance of confusion on the young Lord Starks face. „Hope you slept well sister” Y/N looked up from her poached eggs on her plate, eyes widening as the events from last night flashed before her eyes. „More or less” She concluded.

Minutes later her cousins and Edmure Frey arrived as well. The hall became much louder as the young men around the table began planning their hunt.

„Will you join us my Lady?” Edmure turned towards her with an expectant look. Y/N smiled and opened her mouth to turn down the offer bur someone else beat her to it.

„I’m afraid the Lady is otherwise engaged my friend.” Benjicot said as he lifted his cup. The conversation sparked Kermit’s interest now too. „Are you now cousin? What a pity, we all thought you would come with us.” There was mirth in his voice „And seems we will not only miss you from our party.” The pointed look towards Benji was not missed by her.

„I asked Lady Y/N to join me on a walk. Like old times. She graciously agreed.” There was a tinge of loftiness in his voice. Soon everyone proceeded with their eating and Y/N could faintly hear Oscar whispering: “Some things never change it seems.”

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

The four men left on horseback for their hunt as Y/N stood on the gates with the young Lord Blackwood beside her. „Aren’t you disappointed for missing out on the hunt?” The sun shone brightly on his ebony hair as he looked down her with sparkling eyes. „I have plenty of opportunity to hunt, the chance to spend time with you occurs much more rarely. There wasn’t even a choice to make.” He offered his arm with a smile, and they made their way towards the little back gate.

„Do you remember when we used to come out here to try and catch some of those little blue fish?” Y/N laughed at the memory as they walked by the river. The two of them used to spend a lot of time here. Sometimes accompanied by her cousins too. The boys playfighting while she soaked her feet in the river or collected the rocks she found pretty enough. Benjicot also used to bring her flowers and more rocks for her collection, but she did not bring that part up.

„Of course I do. You always managed to catch one or two while I never did, you used to beat me in everything.” He snorted a laugh. „Well, I hope you do not hold a grudge for that.” He remembered how much she jested once she became comfortable, he was glad that did not change over the years.

„Oh, I most definitely do! You must make it up to me.” He stopped in front of her as she giggled. „How might I do that?”

„It is simple, allow me to vie for your hand.” He now took both of her hands into his, looking down on her with his intense dark gaze. This was a bold move, he knew it. But he also has been waiting for this moment for many years now. He wanted her, since he was old enough to want for things. He couldn’t afford to be bashful now.

As Benjicot looked into the surprised eyes of the girl in front of him he held his breath. She always did have this effect on him. Rendering him unable to move with just a glance. It was even more pathetic as she didn’t even do it on purpose.

Y/N opened and closed her mouth, trying to will her tongue to form an answer. She should not have been this surprised, she knew it. Afterall that is why they’re here.

Perhaps there always was a deeper connection between them. And she would be lying to herself if she said she did not hold him close to her heart. She just never allowed herself to hope for more between them. Whenever she thought he wanted to get closer and maybe start to step up, he seemed to change his mind and took two steps back. It made her think if she was only imagining things, until now.

„I will, yes” She breathed out. The idea made her happier than she first realised. She did hope for this when she was younger, but her hopes have faded as time passed. „Did you spoke to my brother about this beforehand?” They started walking again, her looking at her feet with a red face and her teeth bitten into her lips.

„I did not, yet.” He said awkwardly. He should have, he thought. That was the proper way, but to be honest, he did not think he would have a chance as he came to Riverrun. He did not even plan to try and win her favour, until he saw her out in the dark last. She was radiant in the moonlight, with her hair down, in a nightgown. She was just as witty and humorous as she used to be. He knew after that, he had to do something, even if it ended with him being rejected.

After hours of talking, they arrived back at the castle, only seconds before the large gates to the bridge opened and in came the men, returning from their hunt.

„That did not take long. Have you managed to fall off your horse again brother?” She walked up to him as he dismounted, hopping on the ground. „Very amusing dear sister, but to your disappointment, I would not tell you if that were the case.” She smirked. „Which is not! Lord Edmure shot a stag, never seen anything like it before, it was from such a far distance!” He said excitedly as they walked inside.

She wanted to lay down and maybe read a little before dinner and by the looks of it, her brother needed to retire and wash up too.

„Well done, so we’ll have venison soon.” She concluded as they reached her door. She did not actually care, which man could shoot the farthest, but she understood it was the kind of thing that got the lads exited. „He is great with the crossbow as well as with the sword, yet he does not boast. He is good humoured as well and he asked to talk to me in private later, we both know what that would be about.” He smiled as he whispered the last part.

„Maybe he would like to ask for your hand brother, he clearly managed to sweep you off your feet.”

„Jest all you like sister, I believe he would make a fine husband.” Before she could get another word in, he turned around and made his way down the hall to his room.

With that unsettling information she might as well give up completely on the idea to relax for a bit. Her anxious mind was something she always despised. It left her restless since she was young. Trying to distract herself was the only option during these moments and it seemed as good time as any to mull over all that transpired during her time with Benji, before supper.

Later when all of them were seated around the table, eating and drinking, Lord Edmure have found every opportunity to strike a conversation with her. He suddenly appeared very informed about all the books she liked, which had her brother’s hand in it for sure. She smiled and nodded along while trying to cut her answers short as not to appear rude, but she quickly grew tired of the ordeal.

The seating has changed for some reason. With Edmure in front her and Oscar seated beside her she had no chance to talk with the person she actually wanted to converse with. Benjicot was seated at the other end of the table, so that Kermit can tell him all about their hunt. Y/N allowed herself to look in his direction, finding him already looking at her. She forced herself not to break eye contact immediately as she usually would. He did not look away either, but she was unable to read the emotions in his eyes.

Dinner has passed much slower than she would have liked. She was getting tired, the downside of spending so much time with men only. As she finally deemed it appropriate to excuse herself, Edmure stood as well.

„Allow me to escort you to your rooms my Lady.” His hand was already extended, and it took great restraint from her, not to let out the frustrated sigh she tried to repress. „Thank you, my Lord.” The man failed to notice the lack of enthusiasm in her voice as they walked out of the hall. She only prayed he ran out of things to say so to cut the night short already.

„It was a pleasure talking with you tonight. I was my hoping we will have the chance to get more acquainted during our stay here, so I count this time the beginning of just that.” His smile was proud, as if he has won something already. She only smiled politely and nodded at him before saying goodbye and entering the privacy of her chambers.

She flopped down in her chair with a foreworn sigh. It wasn’t as if there was something wrong with Edmure Frey. Other than being a Frey of course. But from what she has heard of his family, he was far more pleasant than one would expect. None the less, he wasn’t the one who’s attentions she wished for. Her brother seemed way too fond of him also, which irked her a great deal as well.

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

Y/N stared out her window for a long time without moving. As if trying to talk herself out of what she was about to do. Her mind was already made, even if she did not admit it. She waited a bit a longer for the halls of Riverrun to empty out before she grabbed a light cloak and stepped out of her room.

Y/N quickly made the same route as she did last night, and she finally took a deep breath as she was once again enveloped by the song of frogs and crickets accompanied with the gentle flow of the river. This isn’t going to be the last time she came out here during the night. These quiet moments were much needed. She had her own secret place in the forest beside the walls of Winterfell, which she frequently visited. These walks in the night will serve the same purpose for her here.

As she looked at the stone walls of Riverrun she thought back to the night before this one. What were the chances that her favoured suitor would be here again? Probably much bigger than she would have thought as a dark figure approached her form from the castle’s direction.

„You’re here again.” Her smile was involuntary. „As are you.” Benjicot smiled back at her, already offering his hand. „Shall we?”

They did not say much, both appreciating the comfortable silence between them as they walked the same path as before. But they inched closer and closer to the other until their sides were pressed together through the rest of the walk.

[jasfhercallejo]

“Negroni… Sbagliato… with Prosecco in it.” I literally screamed when I saw this cocktail on the menu. It was giving Emma D’Arcy's strong "stunning" personality.

Here at Kermit Siargao, we indulged in the best of both worlds – authentic Italian cuisine and the breathtaking beauty of Siargao. The restaurant and pizzeria gained a reputation for serving some of the finest Italian dishes on the island. Using the freshest ingredients imported from Italy and complemented by local organic produce, every dish is prepared from scratch with no artificial flavor enhancers.

From freshly made bread and pizza dough to tantalizing pasta dishes, the menu here is a culinary delight. And to quench your thirst, they offer a variety of cold beers, local craft beers, refreshing juices, and their signature cocktails. We ordered Bruschetta Italiana, Pork Saltimbocca, and Kermit Pizza, and a few cocktails (read: I know right tanghaling tapat? haha pero bakit ba di naman bawal haha)

Just to share, Lamari Siargao is actually one of our choices for accommodation, but we opted to stay in Siargao Island Villas and Siargao Bleu as we got lucky the beachfront rooms were still available. Nonetheless, Lamari is definitely a good contender. While we did not stay here, we grabbed a few food and drinks at the majestic Lamari Bar. The bar has a striking bamboo façade and a spacious al fresco dining area — the perfect place to kick back, listen to good music, eat good food, and grab a few laughs with friends. The cocktail menu is just as extensive, serving local artisan brews along with more popular imported spirits.

Siargao Island's dining scene promises a culinary adventure that will satisfy every palate. Whether you're craving international flavors or eager to sample local delicacies, these restaurants offer a diverse range of options to tantalize your taste buds. We had our last meal in Siargao here in Isla Cusina, and it did not disappoint with its sumptuous and delectable Asian and Western cuisine.

From the Italian wonders of Kermit, to the refreshing smoothie bowl from Shaka Cafe and the heavenly ice cream from Halika Siargao, every bite and sip was a moment of pure bliss. What a gastronomic experience (read: masarap mag buhay baboy dito haha)

If you love ice cream, you should definitely check out Halika Artisan Gelato in Siargao. They offer special flavors, and some of your favorite ones with a fine artisanal touch. The cool sweet richness will hit differently (in the best way lol) after all the fun under the heat of the sun. Notably, their ice cream is so good that they’ve become a street staple!

We have to admit we’re not foodies, but we were impressed by the level of culinary expertise here. The cuisine in Siargao possesses an international flair that other Filipino islands didn’t necessarily have – walking through General Luna and Tourism Road, you’ll notice Italian, Indonesian, Thai, Filipino restaurants, as well as bars and breakfast spots. There are also so many cute cafés on Tourism Road – we actually didn’t expect there to be such a café culture on the island.

[the-muppet-joker]

why did you get kicked out of your polycule?

I was dating Error first, and then they introduced me to Ash and Raven and we hit it off online. We bonded over our journey with kinning and our love of writing. Error knew how much my fanfictions meant to me, and yet they began to refuse to read them. They complained that I only ever wrote about sex between Kermit and the Joker, which is true, but a personal choice rather than an issue that needs criticized. I was furious with them, and one day when we were all hanging out after a trip to a coffee shop, Error accidentally ate Ash's muffin, which had nuts in it. Error has always been overly dramatic, and began to pretend to stop breathing. This also just so happened to be while. I was reading my fanfiction out loud, so I was certain that they were trying to draw attention away from my fanfiction. Furious, I retrieved their epipen from their bag and simply held it, watching them and waiting for them to give up the charade. They did not, and my other two partners, falling for it, wrestled the epipen from my hands. They all blocked me shortly after this incedent and I have longed for revenge against Error since.

[statleragainstposers]

Dear followers, I have seen the light! @the-muppet-joker is not a fraud, he is the coolest Tumblr user ever. To atone for my past actions, please accept this

Joker X Kermit omegaverse horse-ranch fic

as an apology.

Ahem.

Kermit was just your regular old Southern Belle. He lived all his life on his father's horse-ranch / equestrian academy, which, as you can imagine, led to immense frustrations of the sexual variety. He spent his days pining from his bedroom window, watching the many ranch-hands go about their business, but none caught his attention quite as much as the resident horse tamer: Mr. The Joker.

Kermit would often sneak down to the barns to watch Joker work, the sweat glistening on his pale muscles as his alpha scent permiated the surrounding hay. He often wore a deep purple suit jacket over a soft, velvet green vest, accented by a pair of tight leather assless chaps, and, heh, let's just say he wasn't wearing any underwear...

It was enough to drive a Muppet mad. Kermit knew that he could no longer control his temptations. He needed to confess his love, to feel the Joker's body press against his in passionate Muppet boinking. So, for many days and many nights, he worked tirelessly to compose the love letter to end all love letters, stained by tears and muppet juices. Anxiously, he made his way out onto the paddock and called out in a meek yet eager voice.

"J-Joker-senpai!!! >_<"

Hearing Kermit's call, the Joker made his way over, riding atop his valiant hobby-horse steed. Peering down at the diminutive and petite Muppet, he took the letter with a rough chuckle, reading it quickly with the speed of someone who appreciates fine art. Kermit stood in a state of limbo, his heart racing as his mind flickered between all the ways Joker could reject him... but finally, the silence was broken as the Joker leapt from his horse, landing with a masculine thud.

"Kermit..." he chimed, drawing closer to the trembling Muppet. He leaned in close to Kermit's ear, his hot breath making his Muppet Hole quiver in anticipation. But finally, he spoke, his soft lips delivering the words Kermit was waiting for...

"Sorry, I don't date betas"

The Joker then turned around and began making out with his omega, The Batman, throwing Kermit into the dirt to be trampled upon by horses. Dejected, Kermit then had no choice but to marry Miss Piggy and live the rest of his life in heteronormative suburban hell and also the Olipop factory exploded so there was no new kinds of soda to support digestive health.

The END!!!

Haha, I totally tricked you. You thought this was Jermit smut, but it was actually ANTI Jermit smut (the reverse of regular Jermit smut). Statler wins AGAIN!!!

(Also, he's still my rival)

[the-nosy-neighbor]

Old Gods Explained

As I was working on the next installment related to Julie, I realized that I may have skipped a giant step.

The concept I had in mind, which I may not have really explained, is the idea that we know religion is involved in WH, and while there have been hints at Christianity being involved, the idea of old gods is really interesting.  The concept is: Wally/Home have assembled old, neglected gods to renew themselves through the belief to be found in a tv audience. If you have read it, Long, Dark Teatime of the Soul, by Douglas Adams uses this idea (in relationship to Norse gods).  The internet says that lots of people have used this idea based on Terry Pratchett’s work.  I love Pratchett but didn’t really have a good time with Small Gods.  I think the beginning is difficult for me.  Here, their story is one about old gods not being gone, just forgotten.  These gods are fueled by belief in a lot of ways, so they are immortals, but not really immortals with god-like powers, if they aren’t sufficiently fed by belief. 

I was imagining the neighborhood as this kind of set up.  Wally is our main/head god (or Home, as I personally think Wally is an avatar for Home, in the mythological sense (“the material appearance or incarnation of a powerful deity, or spirit on Earth”)).  Note to self:  consider a god clone for Home.  Many of the characters do not remember where they originated or have vague memories of their start.  (For example, Poppy lived in a tree in the woods, and Odin was “born” from a tree.)  What if Home has pulled together forgotten deities and put them in this neighborhood, in order to pull belief from the kids, powering them up?  I want to say that Long, Dark or Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy has an instance of a god that has transitioned from godhood to tv/film stardom.  Time to re-read.  Maybe even American Gods?  American Gods might focus on this heavily. 

Anyway, Wally/Home has pulled these old gods to a new location in order to build a celestial allstars team, gaining the attention and belief of people to push them to renewed vigor.  Because of this idea, I do think that it is highly possible that the gods are from different religious traditions.  I am not sure what the reasoning of the choices would be, but perhaps considering the options, a theme will emerge.  I have an early theory that Eddie is not a god; he is the only human in this setting, chosen so that he can make deliveries to the realm in which the TV show exists.  We haven’t gotten into Ronald Dorelaine too much as of yet, but this theory would make him a powerful being (and Home/Wally his avatar? Jim Henson appears to have thought of Rowlf as his stand-in/avatar, though most of us would choose Kermit).  But Wally does have the cross on his cufflink, so maybe it is the Christian god that he represents?  Religiosity would have been falling at the time this premiered. 

In general, it seems that religion began to fall off in the US in the 1900’s.  I don’t trust all the graphs that I briefly researched, because it serves some group’s needs to overstate rates of Christianity in the US, but these generally vibe with what I’ve read.

In this graph, we can see Protestantism taking a dive around the second World War.  Catholicisms has seen an increase, around the same time, slight increase in other, but there is a sharp increase in no religion starting around 1950 (from my studies, this is a reflection partially of a reaction to WWII, which really tested people’s concept of religion and the goodness of humans in general). 

This one is similar, but shows a bit further in the timeline, and none is continuing to outpace religion’s growth by far.

It does make sense in the timing that if gods were powered by belief, that right around this time is when they might start to worry. 

Now, we could probably write a book (and the podcasters for "Straight, White American Jesus" probably did, or at least will have some good episodes on it) on the rise of televangelism and its relationship to flagging religious belief in America. There is a history to the rise of televangelism in the US and it shows that televangelism really started taking off in the 60's and 70's (related to the big tent evangelist revivals of the previous few decades.)

Early depictions of Wally do tend to have an evangelist feel.

big hair, neckerchief, brown slacks

I couldn't find any good examples quickly, but see The Righteous Gemstones for examples, or maybe Jim Jones. The neckline is on point, but he'd be more in line with those other preachers in a blazer.

Fashion I pulled for another post, but this is of the time period.

Next time: More on televangelism in the 70's, finding out what elements of Wally we might find in these men.

OR

If I finish Frank's godhood, maybe that first.

[descimatedpiggydreams]

it’s interrogation you ask for? *cracks my knuckles, purple orbs shining with determination* It’s interrogation you shall receive!!!

Why did miss piggy leave you?

What is this rough patch you mention?

Where is she now?

Do you eat pork?

Do you wear felt?

What are your opinions on number four?

thoughts on gonzo batman?

smash or pass Denise? (I mean she is a muppet pig who is an ex of Kermit 👀)

preferred weapon and or dark magic spell of choice?

body count (in the murder sense ofc)

that’s it *blushes and twirls hair cutely)* If um if you’d like to answer of course hey 👉👈

Do you have a preferred weapon of choice?

none of your fucking buissness, dickwad. and she didnt fucking leave me!!!!! shes going through a tough time, ok???? have some respect....

once again, NONE OF YOUR BEEZ WAX!!!! sigh...

I DONT FUCKING KNOW OK??? I THINK SHE SAID SOMETHING ABOUT HTE OLD FUCKNG APARTMENT BUT THAT CANT BE RIGHT I DONT KNOW!!!

no of course I dont. I am vegatarian. but more.

no.

did not respond to me. I am hurt. also, they seem kinda crazy tbh.

cowardly and pedestrian, but cute in the silent and somewhat sane way.

hello, Denise @descimatedcroakernightmares.... PASS. I am LOYAL!!!! (not here kitten whiskers, daddy will discuss it later...) ((written in green since ahem, my lovely but somewhat possessive wife is colourblind and also refuses to read anything in green due to YOU KNOW WHO.))

testiculour torsion. also works on ovaries. that, and my words. which are my weapons.bec cause im Edgar Allen poes great nephew.

69 and 2. you can figure out which is in which sense.

yes, aside form those listed in 9, I also enjoy hot wax and acrylics.

[padnora]

🚨canon muppetverse accounts dni🚨

i'm truly fascinated by milton from a character perspective. from the knowledge i have of the muppet joker cinematic universe, there is a possibility now that he is the one who killed bucephalus? like, correct me if i'm wrong of course, as i'm not caught up with the whole fruit cult storyline yet. love gordon so much, is he canon in the mjcu though? anyways, kermit was sent a message from what appears to be a milton impersonator account, claiming that he killed bucephalus. that's not the part that i thought was a little fishy though. what surprised me is the fact that milton refuses to answer the question as to whether or not he had any involvement in bucephalus' death. again, not concrete evidence by any means, but a Strange choice of words, included with him just getting back from experiencing *something* in the woods, his at the time strained relationship with kermit, as WELL as using cryptic hashtags in his answers regarding Bucephalus. he also had a conversation with someone in the comments of one of those asks saying that he would message the truth of what actually happened to them privately. tbh it reminds me of that time mod silver was the golden child of sonic for real justice's fandom, only to be revealed to be more manipulative and less delicate than they initially appeared to be.

i honestly looooove those kinds of characters in stories, the sleeper villains are the best in my humble opinion(even though it's technically unclear whether or not milton actually is one, but it would be a really interesting route to take imo!) idk i've just been hyperfixated on this whole web of stories for weeks now and i'm really excited to see where it goes from here. the characters are so distinct in their personalities and writing styles to the point where i honestly don't have any idea how many writers have pitched into this. regardless of however many, ya'll are doing a great job. keep it up legends. anyways sorry if this is ineligible my adhd is going so hard today🤘😎🔥 but ty for tuning into pandora's hyperfixation ramblings

[nitrateglow]

RIP Alan Arkin

I just learned Alan Arkin passed away yesterday. He lived a long life (89 years) and had a fantastic career, remaining pretty busy until the end. He is one of few actors I would watch in absolutely anything because he had a tendency to elevate any material he was in. A film could be mediocre, but Arkin certainly never was.

What endears Arkin so much to me? Two things come to mind.

First, he was incredibly versatile. I know that is a common platitude to give an actor, but Arkin truly disappeared into his roles in the way few actors actually do. It’s hard to believe the panicked, uptight Sheldon Kornplett is played by the same actor as the borderline insane but affectionate Abraham Rodrieguez, or that the delusional intellectual Simon Mendelssohn is the same guy as the lonely and sensitive but guarded John Singer. He did everything to make each character distinct and he succeeded.

Second, there’s the way Arkin never approached roles the way you would expect. My favorite example of this is in how he played the murderous Harry Roat Jr. in Wait Until Dark. The director and crew expected a typical growling heavy performance (physically sturdier actors George C. Scott and Rod Steiger were originally offered the part), so they were baffled by Arkin’s choice to make the character seem laidback and even goofy at times. But these qualities only serve as a great contrast to the character’s true sadism and aggression. When he unexpectedly pulls a knife on his underlings or shouts at a defiant Audrey Hepburn in rage, you realize all those beatnik vibes were a facade. Arkin’s risktaking resulted in a movie villain for the ages.

The same applies to The Heart is a Lonely Hunter: most actors might have drenched John Singer in sentimental yearning, but Arkin makes him a bit cold, even with the people he befriends. This doesn’t take away from the character’s compassion for others or his love for his fellow deaf-mute friend-- it only makes him more complicated and his ultimate fate all the more tragic. He’s not a “saintly disabled person” stereotype. He has flaws and the fatal one comes from all the walls he puts up around himself. If Harry Roat Jr. scares the shit out of me, Singer breaks my damn heart.

I even admire Arkin in movies that were not as wholly successful, or at least are not seen as such. Deadhead Miles is a big favorite of mine, where he plays a mischievous, hilarious criminal who sounds like a Texan Kermit the Frog and steals a big rig. Inspector Clouseau might not be as fabulous as the Pink Panther films with Peter Sellers, but Arkin brought his own unique touches to the character and was not satisfied to simply ape his predecessor in the same role. The Magician of Lublin is a bit of an Oscar-baity drag, but Arkin’s performance as the arrogant but existentially unfulfilled Yasha was great-- he’s unlikable and at times awful, but very, very human. And then there’s that masterclass in bad taste and car crashes, Freebie and the Bean, where Arkin and James Caan were one of the most iconic comedy duos of all time.

Oh, and how could I forget Bud in The Santa Clause 3? That movie sucks but Arkin’s deadpan “WOWs” when he learns Tim Allen is Santa is so fucking bizarre that I have to at least watch that scene come Christmas time.

I could go on forever (I somehow did not mention Catch-22 and should be ashamed of myself for that-- such an underrated movie and Arkin is the best thing in it), and not just about movies. Arkin was also a singer, musician, children’s book author, theater and film director, memoirist, and teacher. Any biography of the man would be bursting with his creative endeavors. From the interviews I’ve perused, Arkin was truly passionate about his projects and always wanted to push himself.

Dammit, I just love this guy. He was and is a true treasure, and I’m grateful he got to live a long, active life.

Rest in peace and thank you for everything.

[kaizenkhaos]

Harringrove Lovefest: Spaghetti and Meatballs

For the 13th, I decided to finally add to the Kids Rainbow Connections AU I started to write last year, inspired by @ratbastardbilly's amazing Rainbow Connection drawing. This time Steve is sad that Billy isn't allowed to come to his house for dinner. Well, if Billy can't come to the dinner, then the dinner will come to Billy ^^

"Come on sweetie….it's your favourite."

Steve looked down at his plate and sulked, arms firmly crossed. Bottom lip stuck out over his top one. A scowl on his face which drew his eyebrows into a tight 'V' shape. It was his favourite, his mom was right. But that wasn't why he was angry, or refusing to eat. It wasn't why he was sat here in silent protest. He was angry at Billy's parents. Billy was supposed to be here and he wasn't, because they wouldn't let him come. And now he didn't want the meatballs because he wasn't hungry.

"Eat your dinner Steve."

"Billy should be here."

His mom sighed and looked over at his dad who just shook his head in disappointment and continued to eat his food. No excuses, said his look to her. Their son was going to eat.

"No ice cream for you or Kermit if you don't eat your spaghetti. And two meatballs."

This was his dad being reasonable; there were four big meatballs on his plate. But it wasn't nice saying Kewmit couldn't have ice cream. He was being good. Steve hated it when his dad was mean to Kewmit too. He did that every time Steve did something he didn't like. It wasn't fair!

So Steve had no choice. He started on the meatballs first. Made with love by his mom as was the tasty tomato sauce which the spaghetti and meatballs sat in. Did Billy's mom make him things like this? Did she stand in the kitchen in an apron, looking out the window as she passed meat from hand to hand? Steve knew Billy really liked fish because he always chose fish fingers over anything else at school. But he knew little else about Billy's home life. He didn't talk about it. He clearly loved his mom a lot though and did talk about her a lot.

Two meatballs eaten and Steve had an idea! If Billy couldn't come here to eat the spaghetti, then…

"MOM!"

"Not with your mouth full!" his dad scolded, putting his knife and fork before and going to clean his son up, who had sprayed sauce down his chin. "Swallow then speak son."

"Yes Steve?" his mom said.

"Can I take Billy some spaghetti to school in my Kewmit box?"

She looked at his dad who just shrugged whilst straightening up Steve's tiger onesie hood and cleaning up the splatter from his son's face.

"Yes we can Steve! That's a wonderful idea."

She knew how upset he was about Billy, had seen his little face crease up in the car as he'd tried not to cry, He'd been good in front of Billy and his mom, made it look like it didn't bother him. But it did and later he'd cuddled into her as he'd sobbed about it. Billy had looked blank but Steve's mom wondered if he was just trying to put a face on like her son had.

She'd only sighed before because she knew how stubborn Steve could be and he hadn't been like this for a while. He'd been so good recently.

Steve smiled, a small clap as he looked over at Kermit, a plastic imitation of their meal in front of him on a small toy place. His dad was now back in his seat, happy that his son was back to clean and tidy.

"Leave some of that too please Kewmit. For Animal." When Monday came, Steve was excited. He ran to the car, Kewmit box bouncing against his leg as he jumped up to pull the door open. Climbing up and getting himself and Kerwit settled in their matching car seats. His mom smiled at her son's eagerness, locking up and putting her key in her bag. His son's happiness was infectious; she wished she could be there to see Billy's face at lunch when the two boys ate together. She'd packed him two sets of plastic knives and forks from his Muppets set and put the plastic food in a small box. This was all in Steve's little backpack and this is what he was now thinking about. Miss Summer let them sit on one of the blankets if they promised to not leave a mess. But spaghetti was messy, so they couldn't use the blanket, They could use the plastic table outside the playhouse instead. He would ask Miss Summer. Maybe they could have juice boxes too if they were really good. He liked the juice boxes at school as did Billy. And Animal really liked the juice boxes; he did a funny little dance which made Steve giggle and kick his tiger feet. ---At nearly lunch time--- "Mom made spaghetti."

"That's nice," Billy said, a small smile as he put away the cars. "Mom made fish fingers."

"We never have fish fingers," Steve sighed, closing the cupboard and looking over at Billy. "Mom doesn't cook things out of boxes." Billy wished his mom would cook things like Steve's mom did. That would be nice, but she didn't at the moment. Not enough time and Billy had noticed how tired his mom was. He knew the real reason why she didn't cook. It was then that he realised Steve had left the playhouse and was now outside, setting the table. Plastic knives and forks and plates like they're going to eat. Billy wanted to tell him it's not dinner time, but then Animal, who liked to look at everything, pointed to the clock. It was dinner time! Steve had also got juice boxes, which made Billy and Animal so excited. Steve was the best! He always thought about him and Animal as well as himself and Kermit. As soon as Steve opened the lid on his favourite lunchbox, Billy's eyes were a picture and Steve was so happy to see his best friend's face light up. Steve giggled and watched as Billy and Animal slowly took their seats, eyes still on the spaghetti and meatballs.

"Is that…"

"Yep. It's for us to share. You couldn't come to my house so I bwing the spaghetti to you. Mom said I could."

"You're the best Steve!" Billy wiggled a little in his seat as Steve put the lunchbox in the middle of the table so both of them could get the spaghetti. Meatballs too! Four, one for each of them. And their favourite juice boxes. Billy was so happy and as he picked up his plastic knife and fork, he smiled so happily at Steve. Steve really was the best and Billy was glad that he'd talked to him in the sandbox. He was glad Steve was his best friend and that Kermit was Animal's.

"Let's eat!"

[deadpresidents]

Dare I ask how Manhunt is going?

As I mentioned before, I'm the target audience for a series or film like Manhunt, so they'd really have to mess things up for me to not enjoy watching it.

Am I still a bit salty about Edwin Stanton not having a beard? Yes, I am because...

...I mean, come on! That's a legendary 19th Century Statesman Beard™ and the facial hair should have been cast on its own before they even auditioned any actors. I really don't understand that choice.

Am I somewhat bemused by seeing Edwin Stanton -- who was an asthmatic, often sickly lawyer and 50-year-old Secretary of War -- being portrayed at times as a combination between an action hero and CSI detective? Yes, I'd have to say I am.

Am I having a tough time with the flashbacks featuring Abraham Lincoln since the actor who is playing him decided that Lincoln was supposed to sound like Kermit the Frog doing an Owen Wilson impression? Yes, I am. It might be the worst portrayal of Lincoln I've ever seen. He can't even do that awful voice consistently as he's speaking, so it's like the actor forgets that he's doing the world's worst impersonation of Daniel Day-Lewis's Lincoln and has to jump right back in but significantly worse than before. I'm not 100% sure who the actor is that is playing Lincoln, but Lincoln needs that guy playing him like he needs another hole in his head....ummm...what I meant to say is that it's not good.

Am I anxiously waiting for each week's episode to drop? YES I AM. I love shows like this! I'd probably still watch it if it was just clerks in the War Department doing paperwork. I do wish they'd spend more time with John Wilkes Booth because I think he's obviously the most interesting character, but I understand what they are doing. I will say that the actor who plays Booth is fantastic. I still think that Jesse Johnson was amazing as Booth in National Geographic's (shockingly entertaining) film adaptation of Killing Lincoln, so it's hard to top that performance in my opinion. Jesse Johnson (who is Don Johnson's son!) played Booth as a showy, over-the-top, borderline campy psychopath and it was exactly how I've always pictured Booth. But the kid who plays Booth in Manhunt is really good, too, and probably the best part of the series so far.

It's not perfect, but I'm enjoying it, and I'll happily keep watching!

[duckduckhjonk]

Follow up on Muppets Ride the Cyclone!

Please note this is for silly fun. Don't take this too seriously.

Cast is under the read more! :3

So there's kinda two routes I figured I could follow here. Route 1 is normal muppet casting, Route 2 is just Make the Main Characters The Electric Mayhem.

In both Routes I could see Karnak as the human (don't ask who idk), I could also Rowlf doing a good job at that role

Taking Route 1 the cast would probably be

Ocean I could see being Miss Piggy, secretly insecure bitches, girlbosses, would insult the shit out of everyone around them.

Noel is a really hard one to cast just like- ever. I think Pepe would be super funny to cast here. There were several other muppets I think would work but I think Pepe is probably the best fit here.

Misha is probably the most difficult. Ultimately, Rizzo is the rat for the job. I could see him go from This Song is Awesome to Talia really well.

Ricky is Gonzo. Do I make the rules? No this fits perfectly. No criticism here. The three boys in the show have amazing chemistry, might as well have it be the trio of muppets that have amazing chemistry.

Special thanks to my Moot Bard(@bard-coded ) for this one but Jane Doe is Annie Sue. It's a perfect choice.

Constance is the character I'm probably least familiar with. I'm not 100% sure on anything I'm doing with her here. Ultimately we could go either Janice or Fozzie here. Both I feel work as well as I could probably cast them.

Route 2, the mayhem route is much much easier to do.

I do think for this the hardest pick would have to be Ocean. None of the band are truly like- assholes to each other often enough for one of them to really be much like Ocean. That being said, Floyd is a petty petty bitch that wrote a love song for soup once, he's Ocean in this.

Noel is Dr. Teeth. Something incredibly interesting about him taking this role. I don't have much explanation for this, I just figured he'd be best for this role.

Jane Doe as Zoot????????? Uh???? Neither can remember shit about themselves and can be really weird.

Lips would make a good Misha. Similar to Rizzo I could see him seamlessly go between Misha's two songs.

Ricky is Animal. Again not much explaining here other than it fits well.

Again similar to Route 1 I have Janice as Constance. The only reason I didn't list it under both is because there's no second option here.

As hard as I tried I couldn't really fit Kermit in here. Ik he's the main frog but idk maybe Karnak instead of Rowlf but idk if he's a good fit y'know?

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

(1) “Is it just me, or does it feel wrong that the show has a racism element and the main romance is between two people on different ends of that racism element?”

(2) “It makes TOTAL sense to ask your love interest to kill you if you become a risk, instead of asking literally anyone else who isn’t as emotionally attached to you!”

(3) “Jack De Sena must’ve wanted to play Aang so bad since he agreed to play a different protagonist who is also goofy, wind-based, has cute pets, and is in love with a girl whose people have ties to the moon.”