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therealvalkyrie · 1 year ago

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the morning, the evening

Pairing/setting: Farmer!Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: very fluffy, implied sex, reader wants a baby AN: I've been working on this sporadically for *checks watch* 2.5 years so I hope y'all fucking like it lmao. I really struggled with tying up the ending, so if it feels abrupt that's why! also was too intimidated to try and write baby-making smut, so feel free to imagine those particular shenanigans in your own huge and wrinkly brainsicle. love you all! ~valkyrie

It’s on mornings like this that you feel most unlike yourself. When you slip out of bed before your husband and tug on one of his huge flannels, the sun just peeking into your window. It’s too early. Too early to think, too early for food, too early to do anything but slip out onto the porch in bare feet and curl up on the porch swing. The birds are just waking up with you -- chickadees singing a greeting and the chickens clucking softly in reply. The dewy air sends goosebumps up your bare legs and settles in your lungs as mist clings to the ground. It makes you feel a little lost, a little out of place; mornings have never been meant for you.

When your husband wakes up with the rooster, he joins you on the porch swing, the screen door creaking shut behind him, and hands you a cup of coffee. You lean into his sturdy side and clutch your third favorite mug with both hands (the handle broke last year when you dropped it on the kitchen tile). He doesn’t say anything, just presses his lips to your temple and looks out to the mountains with you. He knows you’ve never been meant for mornings.

When his yellow mug is empty, he rubs your bent knee with a huge hand and leaves you to start farm chores. You may be entitled to a slow start, but the horses expect breakfast before 7 or they’ll be ornery all day.

The sun burns enough dew away for the farmhand’s truck to kick up dust as he drives up your long driveway -- your cue to go put on pants. Back in the bedroom, the stained glass ornaments hanging in the windows are casting shifting rainbows on the wall. This is what lifts your lips for the first time today and prompts the first sip of tepid coffee. You sprawl out on your unmade bed, stretching like a cat in a sunspot made just for you.

By the time you pad downstairs in jeans and an airy blouse, the morning has begrudgingly made a space for you in between its sense of purpose and quiet watchfulness. You set about making breakfast and more coffee, nudging the kitchen awake. You say good morning to the toaster and the butter bell and the kettle on the stove and purposely ignore the dishwasher, which has been giving attitude since the weekend.

You’re murmuring quietly to a pancake when Wakatoshi clomps back in, hanging his hat on the hook by the door.

“Good morning,” you greet, offering up your cheek, which he kisses along with a heavy hand on your hip.

“Does the pancake ever talk back?” he wonders aloud, looking over your shoulder into your cast iron pan.

“Not yet,” you reach for your spatula and grin up at him, “which is what makes it such a good listener.”

He hums thoughtfully and squeezes your waist with his big hand before turning away to reach for plates from the cupboard.

Breakfast passes in conversation about the farrier visiting in the afternoon -- some horses are due for new shoes -- between bites of food. Toshi disappears out the back door to start the rest of his day and you load dishes into the dishwasher. It grumbles to life after a swift kick to the bottom left corner. You’ll have to call the plumber before the weekend.

You’re feeling halfway back to yourself again when you settle into your creaky wooden office chair. It’s nearly the end of the month, which means today is for paying bills and making calls. It’s not nearly as much of a task as it was when you first took over the business side of the farm. Then, you’d had to wade through fifty years of an unintelligible filing system and re-negotiate deals that Wakatoshi’s grandparents had made just as long ago. You’ve always had a way with numbers and a sense for business; it’s the local politics that gave you trouble. People this far into farming country simply don’t trust outsiders, no matter if they’re married to the local golden boy.

Wakatoshi says it had been the same for his father, coming in as an outsider and marrying the beloved daughter of a beloved family. That’s why he’d left, when Toshi was just a kid, never having managed to really feel at home in the community or on the farm.

“But he didn’t have the advantage of your smile,” he’d joked, poking the corner of your mouth gently as you lay in bed late one night a couple of weeks after your wedding.

You’d giggled, swatting his hand away and burying your face into his broad chest. “Do you really think they’ll like me?” you asked in a small voice after a quiet moment.

“They’ll love you. Just like I do.”

You wouldn’t quite say they love you, but the town has at least grown to tolerate you after you’d asserted yourself into their daily lives. Miss Betty at the feed store still doesn’t give you a discount on grain like she had your mother-in-law, and Mary Fletcher still calls you a gold digger behind your back. But at least you’ve made good enough friends with her cousin Amber, who boards her horse in your stables and comes by almost every weekend, to hear about it.

You begin to sweat as the summer announces that it’s still here in the late morning and turn on the rotating fan in an effort to stay cool. The dial of the old rotary phone whirs under your fingertips as you call up the bank, one bare foot bouncing in the air where your leg dangles over the armrest of your chair and receiver cradled to your ear.

It’s a tedious conversation with Laurie, the one and only bank teller, whose daughter is going off to college in just a couple of weeks, that carries you over into lunchtime. You eventually manage to steer her in the direction of the purpose of your call, learning, amidst tidbits about her daughter’s roommate and her son’s soccer tryouts, that your check to the vet had bounced because of an error on the bank’s end. Thank God.

“Shit, that woman can talk,” you breathe when the receiver is safely in its cradle, and Laurie won’t threaten to wash out your mouth with soap for using foul language.

With a deep exhale, you allow your head to fall onto the back of the chair, languishing in the buzzing heat. For the millionth time this summer, you think back to your tiny city apartment, with its shitty water pressure and shitty commute and heavenly air conditioning. What you wouldn’t give….

Well, you wouldn’t give up Wakatoshi, for one.

And you’d had that, with him. You fit him into your tiny shower, washing each other’s bodies and then fucking on the bathroom counter when he couldn’t figure out how to finagle his limbs to fit. He kissed you every morning before work, pressing a packed lunch into your hands.

He proposed under your favorite oak tree in the park at peak foliage, asking you to marry him and move back to his home. You said yes.

You meant it.

But, God. This heat.

The afternoon drags you down, oppressive and lingering, and you find yourself incapable of thinking anymore.

You pass Wakatoshi on your way across the driveway and give him a brief wave, your ring of keys hanging off your middle finger.

“I’ll be back for dinner,” you call as he takes off his hat and runs his fingers through his sweaty hair.

He watches the way your legs propel you up into the elevated cab of his truck, loaded with some buzzing anxiety to move, even through this thick air.

“Okay,” he says.

The first summer you knew Wakatoshi, he invited you to visit home with him for a week. You weren’t together yet, still dancing on the periphery of a relationship with that youthful arrogance of those barely touching adulthood. Halfway through the six-hour drive from the city, he pulled over at a farmstand and bought peaches and lemonade. You ate them in the bed of his truck parked under a maple tree, boughs flush with green and peach juice slipping down your chin.

These grocery store peaches aren’t quite as tender -- you’re just too far North to get them really fresh -- but they’ll do. Still, you worry they’ll bruise as you set the paper grocery bag on the passenger seat next to the bakery box already there. You stand there for a second dumbly, trying to think of a better way to pack them in among your other groceries so they won’t bump around, until the afternoon sun has sunk into the top of your head so it feels like your brain is melting to the inside of your skull. Feeling a little foolish, but otherwise at a loss, you buckle the grocery bag and the box into the seat.

That makes you grin to yourself and snort a giggle as you slam the passenger door and circle around to the other side of the truck. The engine turns and complains for a second before giving in.

Sometimes this is all you need to put yourself back in your body. This little ritual of grocery shopping by yourself -- driving with the music turned up, reading ingredient labels, watching the deli counter guy slice half a pound of provolone. That mundanity, that routine of an adult woman who buys her own groceries, puts everything else in perspective.

You’re here because you want to be. Because you chose to be.

You come to a decision.

Wakatoshi doesn’t pick up the phone when you call on your way out of town, but that’s to be expected. This time of day, he’s most likely out with the horses, and cell reception gives out only a quarter-mile into the pastures. The call goes to voicemail, and you smile to yourself as his recorded voice instructs you to please leave a message. The tone beeps.

“Hey, I’m headed home now. I’ll be there in, uh, about fifteen? Anyway, meet me down at the pond for dinner. Maybe… six-thirty? I thought we’d do something a little special. Okay, I love you!”

The pond is at the East edge of the property, fed by a brook that bubbles out of the foothills. On the side opposite of where the horse pastures end, there is a willow tree that stretches and drapes down to trace the surface of the water. It is under that willow tree that you unpack your picnic basket, pouring white wine into thermos mugs as the low sun streaks through branches.

The heat of the day is finally breaking, giving way to a cacophony of peeper frogs that you can normally only hear distantly in the house. Here, it fills your mind and allows you to think of nothing else but watching the distant silhouette of your husband crossing the pasture towards you. He’s backlit, long shadow reaching across the fence long before he does. You watch him walk in an easy, rolling gait through long grass, watch him hop the fence like he was born for it.

And he was, you remind yourself. He was born for these wide spaces and nature smells. Where you must find space for yourself in the uninhabited corners of the farm (the office, the Eastern edge, the kitchen), he fills the rest as naturally as water fills the pond.

He says your name at the edge of the willow tree, ducking under a bough.

“Hello, love,” you say and smile and pat the blanket next to where you’re sitting.

Your husband sits, folding his legs under him like a little kid. It makes your heart feel a little tender as you tuck yourself into his side and explain your meal: sandwiches and fruit, cherry pie and wine for dessert. He thanks you simply, bending down to kiss you in that slow way that caught you like honey in a trap that first night in front of your apartment building, all those years ago. He tastes like vanilla chapstick.

You eat. Wakatoshi tells you about his day. About the farrier's visit and fixing a leak in the chicken coop’s roof.

“Wakatoshi,” you say, leaning forward to pick at the grass as he works the stone out of a peach with his pocket knife. He hums, deft in his work but listening. “What would you say about having a baby?”

He makes a sharp noise of pain and you look over, wide-eyed, to see he’s sliced clean through the peach and into his own palm. The blood wells before your eyes, mixing with peach juice as you gasp and lunge for the paper napkins in the basket.

“You have to be more careful! What if you seriously--” “Yes,” he cuts you off as you’re taking his hand in both of yours, setting the fruit and knife aside, and wadding up the napkins to stop the bleeding.

“What?”

“I’d say yes to having a baby.” He’s looking right at you with those hazel eyes, the expression in them so close to reverence it stuns you.

“Oh,” you breathe, staring straight back.

At that exact moment, the setting sun glows orange at the top of the pasture hill, streaking Wakatoshi’s cheek with gold through the willow branches. All the breath is gone from you, your head gone light from having this question you’ve mulled over for weeks answered so simply.

His uninjured hand finds your cheek, tucks stray hair away from your face.

“Are you asking? Do you want to have a baby?”

“I-- Yes. I’m asking.”

He smiles, soft as the cattails that sway at the opposite edge of the pond, and leans in to meet your lips with his. You let yourself sink into it for a moment, unable to stop smiling against his mouth, but pull away to further inspect the slice across his palm. He lets you, his fingers curled gently inward while you dab away blood and rub a gentle thumb on his wrist, but his gaze never wavers from your face. It’s intense-- almost like how it was when you first knew him, but with an undercurrent of affection that makes your chest warm.

“It doesn’t look too deep,” you conclude, folding up some clean napkins and pressing them to the wound. “But we should clean it--”

“It can wait.”

“But it could still get infected, what if--”

“It can wait,” he interrupts again, insisting with gentle obstinance. The next words are low in his chest. “I can’t.”

You don’t get back to the house until late, August constellations suspended thickly overhead. It’s like you’re kids again and the barn cat is your mother, watching disapprovingly from her perch on the porch railing as you sneak in after curfew, wine-tipsy and elated. Your husband crowds in the door after you, handsy even after you’ve done nothing but touch each other all evening. You pull him into the kitchen and make him wash his wound thoroughly, your thumbs rubbing into the meat of his palm.

“I hope our daughter has your eyes,” he says. He’s close, his own eyes finding yours in the almost-dark.

“A daughter, huh?”

“A daughter. She’ll be just like you.”

“And what am I like?” you ask, coy, looking up at him through your lashes in the starlight streaming in the window.

Wakatoshi leans forward gently, resting his brow on yours. “You are,” he swallows thickly, eyes fluttering closed, “you are the world.”

Your day ends nothing like it began. Your day ends with utter surety of your place in this house, in this town, in Wakatoshi’s arms. The day ends and you feel completely yourself again, cradled in the gently rolling hills of the life you’ve chosen.

#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #fluff #reader insert #haikyuu!! reader insert #valkyrie writes #tw babymaking #tw fluff

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pinkchangelingdemon · 2 years ago

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Dealing with demons in a basement isn't is the best idea

This is the story of sweet naive Mark and his friend Michael.

A mortal month ago, Michael was helping his friend Mark store the christmas decorations in the basement of the buidling where Mark lived with his mother, and they "accidentally" summoned a demon. At first they thought he was the hot dude Mark's mother pays rent every month, I mean, I looked exactly like an exact naked copy of that stud but my eyes gave me away. You know, when I'm weak, even if I shapeshift, they are still red and glow.

You should have seen their faces! they couldn't keep their eyes away from the snake hanging between my legs. They were almost hipnotized by it. So when I offered them to make a deal, to give them the ability to possess hot dudes like me... while of course teasing them stroking that enormous dick... the fools said yes without hesitation.

After that, I dramatically vanished laughing while turning into a red mist.

If it wasn't for both of them being there with me, they would have thought they went crazy.

Back at Mark's house... of course I followed them inside that horrible building... well, they were still processing what just happended when they heard a knock in the door. Mark was the one to open it.

It was a plumber, sent by my lovely friend, the landlord.

He was a young and fit plumber, maybe my friend had a "personal interview" with him before sending him to that floor. Hehe

What? I am a lust demon what do you expect?

Ugh your are the worst! The point is while Mark was with the plumber, Michael was alone, falling asleep after carrying so many boxes. So a few whispers in his ear on how to use his new power and... the plumber started coughing.

Mark was about to call for help, but before he could do it, the plumber started to undress in front of him.

"what the fuck!?""It worked, Mark","M...Michael?" "Oh fuck his dick is HUGE!"

No more words were needed. The three of them made their way inside the house, were a innocent plumber helped two twenty years old nerds loose their virgnity betweed moans. Well, yeah, of course the plumber enjoyed it! After all, it was his dick the one used to make that horny nerd scream! But he also loose something that day, money! hahaha!

But here's the thing...after the first round, Mark suggested if he could top the plumber straight ass. Michael said no.

Other idea popped his mind, maybe let Mark borrow the body for a while. Same answer, no.

They both got annoyed, argued until Michael left still inside the plumbers body.

They fighted and fighted and fighted. He used to be a shy kind guy, but after possessing the plumber he was mad with lust. My bad, I guess.

Every time Mark said he was going to possess someone, Michael possessed them first and made Mark his bitch.

No, he wasn't into it and got tired. So after one loud discussion inside the bodies of two gym hunks, they split up.

...

Last week, to Mark's surprise Michael called him. But when he answered instead of his effeminate voice, on the other side was a masculine voice and he was crying.

After helping him calm down, he explained everything to Mark.

I saw it, he was reckless. He was trying to possess one of the guys from a basketball team during their practice but the coach saw him coughing. He wasted no time and kissed him trying to do the Heimlich maneuver, but when he felt the coach lips, they lost consciouness.

After that he was stuck as Mr. Grayson, the coach... What? There hasn't been a situation like that in three mortal centuries!

Even with his meaty and strong body, Michael couldn't pretend. Yeah, he was consumed by lust... but living other mortal's life was too much for the dumbass. He couldn't even look at his wife!so he moved to one of the apartments in that cursed building where his friend lived. Yeah, where I was trapped by that bitch!

Everything was going according to my plan.

He had no money, so I convinced my friend, the landlord, to find another way for the coach ro "pay him"...

Of course they fucked, stupid! The whole building heard the moans every time the landlord's cock penetrated the virgin ass of the coach. I even took control of my friend to feel it first hand, and made that horny bitch scream.

After that, Michael instead of becoming one of my lust servants, he became a bitter prick. After all he lost his ability to possess other people, while his friend was having the time of his life.

Envy demons, right?

He quit his job as coach and the gym, after all he didn't know how to do shit. So his days consisted on eating, watching TV, masturbating and being bossy with his fool friend Mark.

"Bring me beer, bring me pizza, fix the wifi..." oh, Mark was furious. He even attracted a rage demon!

It only took a week. Michael was drunk and threw a bottle at Mark's face. Luckily I turned him intangible.

He was furious. He charged against the burly body of the coach, ignoring he was still intangible.

You already know the result, uh?

After coughing for a whole minute he was in control of coach Grayson and Michael too.

Before he could have second thoughts the doorbell rang.

It was my horny landlord ready for the payment of the second week, masturbating in front of him. Ah, I picked him well.

"Ready for round two" he said before entering the apartment, where again he fucked without mercy the coach now controlled by sweet naive Mark. With every penetration, Mark, Michael and coach Grayson moaned.

They didn't last long against my good servant. While a torrent of cum was liberated from their shared dick. I made sure to seal these two fools inside the body of their coach.

Clever, right?

Now every time they fuck, every time they moan, every time Mark have a horny thought, their three souls combined feed me their lust.

So... Who's paying this round?

.........................................................

Check out how the landlord was possessed by one of his tenants! Here:

#male possession #male body possession #straight to gay #coach possession #demon male possession #Rent

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koopzilla · 11 months ago

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@timid-plumber

Sleigh bells ringing. Church choir singing. What does it all means!?

It is all gobbledegook and nonsense - a worthless exchange! Except for one part. As Bowser watched a man pushed a decorated box into his beloved's hands, oppurtunity knocked. If people are forced to trade presents, then Princess Peach would be forced to have an audience with him!

His new plan demands perfect execution! He must know everything about the holiday! So began Luigi's summoning... via a paratroopa knocking at the door at the crack of dawn.

"His majesty says... STRINGBEAN! Got your next job lined up! Meet me in your... New Dork Kingdom!... and bring your... Krer... mist... mas SPIRIT"

His demand is sincere. The giant had already begun his investigation! In place of his spiked bands are glowing christmas lights, and his mane is tucked away beneath a large red Sanda hat. His guise is oddly calming... few had reacted to his presence. Missing morning coffee may be the culprit. He has be dubbed Christmas Godzilla by another pesserby. His tapping foot cracks the sidewalk still and is the signal for any approaching plumber to hurry up before he goes into a store himself...!

#timid-plumber

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wuxiaphoenix · 3 months ago

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On Writing: Invisible Stitches

One of the key elements in making sure a piece of beadwork stands up to wear and time is doing your best to ensure there are no exposed threads to catch and wear through. Put your piece together right, and all the beading thread and knots should be hidden between or inside the beads. If something smashes the piece and the sharded glass then severs the threads... them’s the breaks. But for ordinary bumps, drops, and rubbing against things, keeping the threads hidden inside protective glass generally does the job.

The trick comes when you have to construct a piece that changes shape as you sew. If rows increase or decrease in length, then the ordinary ways of stitching new beads onto the next row will leave an exposed thread. And this is where the invisible stitch comes in.

In short: instead of adding one new bead at the edge of the next row, you add two. Stitch down through the second bead, come back up through it, backtrack to stitch down through the first bead, and then stitch down the second bead again. This takes extra time, effort, and knowing how the trick is done, but it leaves all of your thread inside the beads and protected.

If you want to incorporate fantastic elements into your story, you might want to consider an invisible stitch.

As in, don’t just tell your reader your world has dragons. Say it has dragons and because of that, shepherds always go out with a quiver of poisoned arrows, to guard their flocks from a determined aerial predator. Don’t just have FTL ships; have the ship’s communications officer picking up the data-package of letters and other transmissions for the next planetary stop, because other comms don’t move faster than light. Don’t just show your readers the eldritch abominations hiding in the sewers; show them the plumbers and city maintenance workers who have night school classes in banishment and special chalk to draw Elder Signs on tunnel walls.

One fantastic aspect, one mundane. Added at the same time. The fantastic has a realistic consequence. Which is exactly what you want if your world is meant to feel real.

One of the best fantasy paintings I’ve seen was a Dragon Magazine cover with a ranger dressed for winter in the Frozen North riding a draconic mount. You could see the snow, the furs... the hot breath turning to white mist in the frozen air. As it really would do, with a hot-blooded creature breathing on a clear winter’s day.

Stitch the real with the fantastic. And you’re in!

#creative writing #worldbuilding #beadwork

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incorrectsmashbrosquotes · 2 years ago

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The Weight of the World

*The Titan Atlas has requested help so he can be there at his daughter’s wedding. Mario has agreed to shoulder the weight of the sky for him*

Mario: The weight, uggh, impossible. Atlas... Atlas?!

~the Mushroom Kingdom, Peach’s Castle~

Peach, looking pensively out her balcony: I know you’re out there somewhere Mario. I believe in you.

Toad: You say something your Highness?

Peach: Keep your spear sharp, Toad. I have a feeling it’s gonna be a busy day.

~8:00 A.M.~

*A cat is stuck in a tree*

Toad, climbing up the tree: It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.

Cat: meow.

*Toad successfully rescues it*

Toad: I got you, all safe.

Old Lady: Ooh, I thought Mr. Mittens would never get down!

Toad: No problem ma’am. Just doing what Mario would have done!

~11:30 A.M. Professor E.Gadd’s lab~

*Ridley is attacking*

Ridley: HAHAHA! BEEN WAITING ON THE OPPORTUNITY TO TORCH THIS JOINT! AND SINCE MARIO’S OFF SIPPING MAI TAIS I CAN-

*Luigi suddenly slams into him, sending him flying*

Ridley: Gah! You?!

Luigi: Time To-a cool off!

*he knocks Ridley out*

*As Luigi is tying up Ridley the Mushroom Fire Department is putting out the fire*

Firetoad: We got everyone out safe, Luigi. Thanks for helping!

Luigi: If it-a weren’t for-a my brother I would never-a been a hero! Plus, he-a helps me and-a Daisy out in Sarasaraland all-a the time. I’d never hesitate to help him back!

~2:00 P.M. Mushroom National Museum~

*Gharnef is attacking the museum*

Gharnef: Goetia! *Dark Magic roars forth*

Worker: He’s gonna level the place!

*suddenly, a blue laser blasts Gharnef back and onto the pavement. Samus emerges from the shadows and smoke*

Samus: How’s that for a laser light show, G-boy.

Worker: Thanks Samus! We’ll get the museum fixed up!

Samus, as she drags Gharnef off: Anything for Mario’s city. He’s the Original.

~5:00 P.M.~

*Rathlos is attacking the Mushroom Kingdom Star Power Plant*

Worker: He’s going after the reactor!

Rathlos: SKREE!

*Suddenly, Link leaps from a building onto Rathlos’ back, striking with the Master Sword*

Link: Heard Mushroom Kingdom could use some help!

*Link leaps off as Rathlos crashes to the ground. Hunters come up and shackle the beast*

Hunters: Appreciate it, Link. We’ll make sure he gets back to containment.

Link: Anytime. Tell Mario I said thanks. For everything.

~7:30 P.M.~

*Wario and his crew are robbing the Mushroom National Bank*

Wario: Heh, heh. Mushroom Kingdom is open for business boys! Wide open.

*as they exit, they’re met with a group of angry Toads*

Toadsworth: This is a citizen’s arrest!

Wario, cracking his knuckles: Beat it. You don’t wanna tussle with us, old man.

Toadsworth, unmoving: This is Mario’s city! A good city! We aren’t afraid of two-bit thugs like you!

*taking advantage of the distraction, Sonic zips out of the shadows and begins to lay the beatdown on Wario and his crew*

Sonic: Sorry, but Mario’s off the clock! So I’m covering his shift!

*He K.O’s Wario before he can react, leaving the toads to complete their citizen’s arrest*

Toadsworth: You’re a good man, Sonic!

Sonic: Mario’s always there when there’s a crisis. Helping out’s the least i could do.

~11:30 P.M. Peach’s Castle~

Toad: Rathlos, Wario, Gharnef, all successfully detained, Princess.

DK: Who’s the Barney the Roid-Rage Dinosaur looking mother-fucker?

Peach: That’s Ridley. He’s from Space.

DK: so what’s the deal? Mario took a vacation so everyone else had to bail us out?

Peach: Try, Mario was needed elsewhere so the people he helped in the past stepped up while he wasn’t here. Mario wasn’t around, but he was part of every good thing that happened.

DK: Hmph. So when’s he getting back?

Peach: ...

~the Edge of the World~

*Mario has been dutifully holding up the sky this whole time Slowly, the great figure of Atlas emerges from the mist.*

Atlas: How you holding up, plumber?

Mario: Like... laying... down... pipe.

Atlas: Heh. Keeping everything from crashing down... it means sacrificing much. If not for you, Id have sacrificed a day no father should miss. Calypso was radiant at her wedding. I don’t need an oracle to tell me she’ll know joy for the rest of her days. Zeus was certain no one would spell me. His face when he saw me, heh. You’ve given me a memory I’ll cherish for eternity.

*Atlas rises and holds up his hands*

Atlas: NOW I ACCEPT MY BURDEN AGAIN!

*the weight of the sky comes crashing onto Atlas’ shoulders and he flass to one knee, kneeling on the ground. Mario gasps and fals to the ground, exhausted.*

Atlas: Were you worried I would not return?

Mario: Might’ve... crossed... my mind.

Atlas: Perhaps you alone could understand. That those charged with the weight of the world would never wish it on another. But it is always heartening to know that there are those who will help when it is needed. Wouldn’t you agree, Jump Man?

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agoldengalaxy · 2 years ago

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Mario movie sequel idea -

Wario and Waluigi, disgraced plumbers who filled Mario and Luigi’s spots at Spike’s business, are incredibly jealous of the fame and wealth that the latter received for saving Brooklyn. After receiving terrible customer reviews for being “rude and unpleasant to work with”, Spike fires them and they are left to their own devices.

Blaming Mario and Luigi for this, they angrily find their way down to the pipe, intending on taking them down - but before they can reach the Mushroom Kingdom, they stumble upon a young woman wearing a muted orange jacket with sunglasses pushed up onto her head caring for a small green creature. She greets them with a friendly hello, introduces herself as Daisy, and introduces the creature as Yoshi, because that’s the noise that it makes. Waluigi immediately falls in love with her, and Wario asks if she knows the Mario brothers. She tells them, of course, because who doesn’t know the Mario brothers? She emphasizes how adorable the green one is, which causes Waluigi to lash out and rush forward, offering her a rose. Daisy rejects the advancement with a laugh, telling him they’ve just met. Waluigi says he can fix that and scoops her up over his shoulder. She hits and struggles but doesn’t succeed. Wario scoops up the Yoshi in his arms, who nips at him. All together, they go through the pipe. They make their way to the now nearly-abandoned Dark Lands, and make themselves comfortable at the empty castle, hatching a plan to destroy the Mario Brothers once and for all while Daisy sits with Yoshi, silently looking for escape.

While they’re sleeping that night, the Yoshi that had once fit in their hands grew to a much bigger size and nudges Daisy awake. Silently, they escape the castle together, and Yoshi tosses her onto his back. They run through the woods but are overwhelmed by the Dry Bones in the ground, which Daisy fends off with her shoe. Much to her dismay, Wario and Waluigi appear again out of the mist. She instructs Yoshi to run, to run to the Mushroom Kingdom and find the Mario brothers and not look back. Reluctantly, he does so as Wario and Waluigi drag Daisy back to the castle, thanking her for telling the creature to bring the brothers right to them.

Early morning, the Mario brothers are having tea with Peach when Yoshi bursts through the door with a trail of Toads behind him. They apologize to the princess, they aren’t sure how the Yoshi got in, they’ll deal with it immediately, but she cuts them off. The Yoshi trots right up to Mario, whimpering, nuzzling his nose into his neck. Mario knows something is wrong. Determined, he asks him to lead the way. Excitedly, Yoshi tosses him onto his back and runs. Peach and Luigi exchange a look and rush after them, using some leftover karts to catch up.

They reach the Dark Lands after a few nights, with battles ensuing in between, with Mario creating a bond with the creature, and Yoshi leads them right to the doors. When they open, they find Waluigi and Wario ready for them, with Daisy in chains beside the crumbled throne. A battle ensues, Wario and Waluigi blame Mario and Luigi for their failures while Peach frees Daisy. Using the power ups they collected along the way, the four of them surround the two beaten men, making them surrender, but they have one last trick up their sleeves. Laughter echoes throughout the empty castle, and a ghost wearing a large crown appears before them. He taunts them, thanking Wario and Waluigi for working with him, and fills the castle with temporary light, showing portraits upon portraits of scared-looking people. He explains that this is his art gallery, and he’s going to add them to it next.

Chaos. Daisy grabs hold of King Boo’s tongue and pulls. Luigi helps her. Wario and Waluigi try to fight off Mario and Peach but are ultimately overtaken. King Boo calls them useless and attempts to throw them into a painting - but Luigi stops him by using the vacuum he’d brought along on accident. King Boo disappears. Wario and Waluigi lay defeated on the floor. Mario offers for them to start anew in the Mushroom Kingdom, where they can make money and become heroes themselves. They hesitantly accept.

Luigi offers Daisy his handkerchief, to which she accepts emphatically and introduces herself, calling him the affectionate nickname “Greenie.” He turns red. Mario and Peach share a grin. Peach offers Daisy a room to stay in at the castle, and when they return, the Toads offer her an honorary crown, too. Daisy insists she isn’t ladylike, but Luigi shyly tells her that that isn’t a bad thing, and princesses can be whatever they want.

Wario and Waluigi occupy a house near Mario and Luigi. They have to be under constant surveillance for their tendency to steal coins from other Toads, and are incredibly annoying, but they find that they quite enjoy playing tennis matches against the Mario brothers. Waluigi still competes for Daisy’s affections with bouquets and things, like notes that say “I’m sorry for kidnapping you. <3”

Meanwhile, somewhere in the Dark Lands, Boo laughter echoes throughout the forest.

#nintendo #mario #smb movie #super mario movie #super mario bros #luigi #luigi's mansion #wario #waluigi #princess daisy #princess peach #yoshi #more luigi screentime!#also I just really wanna see wario and waluigi and daisy tbh #my post

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tucsonarizonaplumber · 1 year ago

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Tucson Outdoor Plumbing Repair

#misting repair #outdoor plumbing repair #outdoor plumbing repairs #outdoor plumber near me #cheapest outdoor plumber #outdoor plumbing emergencies #outdoor plumbing emergency #247 plumber

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simiansmoke · 2 years ago

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Send me “⚠” for my muse to discover a wound yours has been hiding from them!

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They were supposed to jump the cliff once they got to its edge. There was another, albeit higher one nearby they could definitely leap and grab, and it was important they did so soon - else that rhino DK had hit with a rock when aiming for Mario was going to knock them over the edge and into the mist filled bottom of the steep ravine below.

"Ahahalright, big jump!" Giddy like a kid on an obstacle course, he launched off the crumbling lip of the cliff and sailed over to grab the rocky other side of the ravine, scrabbling up into a kudzu patch that he poked his head out of to see if Mario got higher than him.

For some reason the guy hesitates, staggering a moment and then leaps - about halfway up. So definitely dropping into the death pit. Luckily for the weak ankled plumber, DK was rather skilled with cliff climbing and he quickly began his descent down the rock wall when he noticed the stumble. Waiting for the right moment to launch himself to the middle of the ravine, he soars over to snag Mario's shirt collar as they both landed a level lower on the previous cliff - enough to keep the rhino at bay above them.

Catching his breath, DK shoots Mario an annoyed look. "What was that?" Knowing he'd seen the guy jump way higher before, he shifted his gaze down to the way the other squeezed at his ankle and put two and two together. "When did that...ugh seriously? I could've thrown you a vine or something. Maybe fucking tell me next time!"

#//i like how hes mad at mario but he the one out here throwing rocks lmao #//tries to hit mario hits rhino butt instead #alittledetermined

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theretirementstory · 2 years ago

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Greetings from a wet Bar-sur-Aube where the temperature is 9c. We have had frost, mist, rain, sunshine and some days, temperatures of 14c, quite a wonderful week for me to do my walking.

It has been a very “strange” week, with three visits to the laboratoire…..no need to go into that now, baking again after quite a break, and taking the bull by the horns and contacting people for next phase of works “chez moi”.

I have also been “crowned” “coronated” call it what you will but the dentist has now implanted (well glued probably) my new crown, thank goodness. That has cost me an 💪 and a 🦵but means I can smile again (or is that grimace).

Anie rang and invited me for “Le gouter “, as I was expecting the plumber, I said I would let her know later in the day. I was invited for 17:00 but “Sods Law” the demonstration against pension reform was still in full flow which meant a snails pace in traffic movement. I eventually “abandoned” the car at the bottom of the town and “ran” (well tried to walk quickly) to her house at the top of the town. When I got to the top, yes you have guessed it, the traffic was moving normally. The “upside” was that I got my walk in for the day. We had lovely homemade apple tarts and (I suspect, bought) panattone.

Here is this weeks poetry excerpt, it is from “Winter-time” by Robert Louis Stevenson

“Black are my steps on silver sod;

Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;

And tree and house, and hill and lake,

Are frosted like a wedding cake.”

So the next phase of works is for a new toilet and washbasin. I had a quote from my plumber back in 2020, however, when I asked him at the end of last year about replacing the items he said “you buy the washbasin and I will fit it”. Now I have worn some hats in my time but “plumber” or “purchaser of sanitary ware” is not one of them. How on earth do I know if this, that or the other will work? I asked my neighbour for her plumbers phone number and I made an appointment for him to visit and prepare an estimate. When he came out he said it was not possible for a wall hung unit as it was just a stud wall! The pedestal had never been fitted to this basin and the guy wiggled and pushed it and got it in place. After he had gone, I went into the toilet and there was a terrible stench, it appears as if all the wiggling has caused a problem with the siphon so now when you wash your hands the water runs onto the floor. 🤔solved one problem created another! However, his estimate was €400 cheaper than the previous plumber (2 years ago) ok, so no new basin, but I will have new tap and siphon on existing one. Oh have you noticed I am now understanding more about sanitary ware. 😂

As it was the resumption of the knitting group this week, I had volunteered to make the cake. Now what was I going to concoct? I decided on a lemon and sultana cake, the previous ones I had made were delicious. Well I mixed it up using a hand mixer (an ounce less sugar than the recipe) and it really looked good in the tin, but when I cut into it on Friday it was quite dense and although I had used rather a lot of lemon the taste was quite bland, oh dear, not a good start I fear! It was lovely to be there with old and new friends. One of the new ladies was unable to attend this time but she had sent me a message wishing us all a good afternoon and saying she would see us next time. I am so happy in my new role as “Brown Owl” “Arkela” or should it just be “Big Knit”? I showed the little hats and bootees I had knitted, it was suggested that I may be able to donate them to be sent to Turkey or Syria following the earthquakes. I will check that out, in the meantime I have knitted another hat and one bootee, it is just something small and simple to knit.

Life is being life, I am afraid, giving us the up’s and the down’s. At times we feel that things could not get any worse and it is at times like that, that it is important to look for the light….. it maybe just a tiny pinprick at the moment but if you keep reaching it will become a lot brighter. Life’s course is never smooth, there are bumps along the way and sometimes it feels like you have a mountain to climb, it makes for a stronger person. To anyone who feels that there world is falling apart, take heart, it may be the world as you know it now, but there is another world out there waiting to be discovered. I am sure there are people who are feeling this way right now, not just those affected by war, earthquakes but by loss in one way or another.

There is also a lot buzzing around in my head. I am planning a little something for next week (more of that later). Plus we are hurtling towards spring when thoughts will return to my garden. In the meantime, I am taking each day as it comes, not looking too far into the future as in doing so we can miss out on a great deal of the present.

I wish you all a good week, until next week!

#nature #trees #barsuraube #photography #winter

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dolllikelove · 3 months ago

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A Renaissance Of Old-School Barbarian Games Is Happening Right Now

In a time of legend long past, when video games were still emerging from the primordial mists and magic still flowed through all things, there were games of ultimate power. These games didn’t concern themselves with Italian plumbers or sad surrogate dads, but with fierce warriors who shirtlessly strode into battle,… Read more... http://dlvr.it/TBZHDZ

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knight--error · 5 months ago

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Hey. Hey you. Do you want to be as annoyed by me as I am by myself.

Have some writing that I randomly found in my folders.

“And did you think that this would be the end? That here all earthly troubles cease and here all ills are silent? Fool. Death is but a doorway.”

The rain made E.B.’s boots soggy as he slushed through semi-puddles of snow, water, and mud. Rain fell in a ceaseless trickle, an endless backdrop of noise like a leaky faucet. He wondered if the heavens had a plumber. He hoped they did, because then E.B. could find the man’s address and throttle him.

Except for the endless plinking rain, the streets of E.B.’s small city were quiet. Most of the windows were dark. It was late on a rainy Thursday night; no one stayed up late on rainy Thursdays. Everyone had long ago gone to bed, awaiting a better morning. Except for E.B., of course. It was his job not to go to sleep that night. It was, in fact, of unbelievably vital importance that he not go to sleep that night. And that was why he was out walking late on a rainy Thursday night, with moisture making his socks go mushy and slimy in their boots, and water sliding down his collar. Nothing would be more difficult than falling asleep in this kind of weather.

E.B.’s soggy boots made small splashing sounds in the many puddles on the road, adding their own wet notes to those of the rain. E.B. didn’t think there was a single part of him that was dry. He even had water in his ears. Although the rain was not much more than a mist, it limited visibility enough that the world seemed to have contracted into a small, damp sphere, occasionally expanded by the passing, pale yellow glow of a streetlamp. E.B. formed the cold, wet heart of this dim and dreary world. His feet ached from hours of walking. He wanted to go home.

He knew he could not go home.

“They say that men who walk these streets at night are running from something,” said the voice from beside him.

E.B.’s spine stiffened, but he didn’t slow down, didn’t turn to look. He knew what was there.

“Everyone’s running from something,” he said. The rain formed a never-ending curtain of noise, but he still felt like he was breaking some holy silence. The other voice didn’t break it when it spoke, though. It seemed above, or below, such barriers.

“What are you running from, Ebben?” the voice asked.

E.B. knew this catechism and recited his response. “From Death,” he said.

The voice laughed, a silvery sort of laugh, like water flowing down over curved rocks, like someone shaking out thick and shimmering velvet. “You cannot run from Death,” the voice said. “She has wings like an eagle. She has feet like a hound. She will hunt you and catch you and slay you; her jaws are red with blood and she is never satisfied. Do not run from Death, Ebben. You will only weary yourself.”

E.B. had to swallow, hard, before he could force out his next line. It had all sounded so simple, so effortless, when he’d been taught how to do it. “I know she will catch me,” he said. Rainwater was trickling down out of his hair and into his eyes, but it didn’t really matter anymore if he could see, or not. “She catches everyone. That’s not the point.”

“Why run a useless race?” Cooed the voice. “Why fight a fight you know you will lose? Give up. Give in. Why let her surprise you when you can meet her willingly? She is kinder to those who come to her this way.”

For a moment, for a sheer, horrible, upside-down moment, the denial stuck in E.B.’s throat. He felt like he was floating and falling and crushed, all at once. He drew in a breath that seemed more heavy water than air.

AND THAT'S IT.

I BARELY REMEMBER WRITING THIS.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT OR HOW IT ENDS OR WHAT ANY OF IT MEANS.

I have played myself. Please suffer with me.

#writing #original writing #fiction #original fiction #unfinished works #writer problems #past me hates me i guess

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