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strawberryspence · 2 years ago

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happy birthday, @stevesbipanic! i am glad you were born, you amazing human being. I hope you get to drink the coldest, most delicious, bougiest milo you can have. ILY broccoli! 💛

Steve has never had a birthday cake. He doesn't count the first six cakes his parents had for him, because he's pretty sure it was only for appearances.

He remembers his seventh birthday. How badly he wanted to have a Flintstones themed birthday party, and how his parents called it tacky. Instead, Steve had a lavish tea party with all of their investor friends. He remembers hating it.

After that, there's— nothing. There were Nannies or Babysitters that tried to make him feel better by bringing him to Benny's and he's thankful for that. But there's always that heart wrenching rip in his system when he sees a child. Surrounded by family, singing happy birthday as they wait to blow on a cake.

And the thing is if Steve never gets to have that, it’s okay. It’s really, really, really, okay. That also means he’ll do his best to give all the kids the best birthdays they can have, so they can never feel what he felt. If El wants a day just full of craft making? Sure. Dustin wants to visit this damn planetarium in Indianapolis? Okay. Mike wants to dress him like him for an entire day? Alright.

Steve is happy that way, until Eddie Munson comes crashing into his life with a broken bottle. And okay, maybe it’s not a great idea to lie in the biggest and probably the most important relationship he has right now, but he’s not going to tell Eddie his little sad secret.

What he forgot to account for is the fact that his boyfriend is the biggest snoop to ever exist.

“Wha— What’s this?” Steve stammers as he enters his house. It’s almost always dark when he comes home, the house dull and empty.

Tonight, it’s different. After having his birthday dinner with Robin, Steve drives them back to his house so they can have movie night. Supposedly.

Instead, Eddie’s standing behind the long wooden dining table that never gets used, with 20 different cupcakes, all lit with a candle. There’s food and banners and balloons with streamers.

Robin pushes him forward with a smile, “So…” Eddie walks towards him, “I found some of your childhood pictures.”

“Oh.” Steve breathes out.

“Look, maybe I am wrong. Maybe I got it all wrong. Maybe your parents just weren’t the kind of people that liked taking pictures and having to develop them. Maybe someday, you’ll tell me why you only have one childhood photo album or why there’s no pictures of your birthday parties past the age of six.”

Eddie says, hands nervously twisting around his hair, “But, on the off chance that I am right,” He shakes his head in disbelief, “On the off chance that you haven’t had a birthday cake or a birthday wish in 14 years, I got you 20 birthday cupcakes.”

Steve can barely hold himself anymore, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, “Why 20?”

Eddie smiles at him, and his eyes sparkle at Steve like he hung the damn moon and stars, like he fucking created the whole universe, “One for every year my favorite person has been alive.”

Steve chokes down a half sob, half whine as he slaps a hand on his mouth.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Eddie whispers as he wraps Steve in a comforting hug. They stay like that for a minute before Eddie says, “I am so happy you were born. There’s a few more people that are happy, they’re all hiding in the kitchen right now.”

“What?” Steve pulls back, hastily wiping his tears.

“The kids are all here. Nance, Jonathan, and Argyle.” Eddie tenderly wipes a stray tear off his cheek, “Even Wayne, Hop, Joyce, and Mrs. Henderson is here.”

Steve’s not sure if he wants to know, but he still asks, “Why?”

Eddie visibly softens, but before he can answer Robin answers for him, “Because we all love you, Dingus.”

“So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to sit behind the cupcakes and they’re going to come out from where they’ve been eavesdropping.” Steve laughs when Eddie emphasizes the word, and there’s a clatter in the kitchen followed by whispering, “They’re going to act normal. And we’re going to sing you a song. Okay?”

Steve smiles, nodding, “Okay.”

“Okay.” Eddie says as he runs to the kitchen and as Robin ushers him to sit in front of the cupcakes. She forces a birthday hat on his hair, and he doesn’t even argue.

They all come out from the kitchen, all smiling and wearing ridiculous birthday hats. Even Hop and Wayne are wearing them and it might actually be the funniest thing he’s ever seen. The kids have blow horns that fill the silent house with joyous sounds.

They sing him a birthday song. It’s loud and it doesn’t exactly sound good. Dustin’s trying a new other pitch and Lucas has never been a good singer. Max is drumming on the table and El has a small tambourine. Mike and Will are trying to do some kind of duet in their own little bubble. But it’s the most beautiful, harmonious sound to Steve.

And as they all urged him to make a wish, Steve is struck with awe and disbelief, a feeling of realization sparking in his veins. Steve’s got everything he’s ever wanted right in front of him. He just wants all of them to be safe and sound.

He smiles at his family, as he lets his eyelid flutter shut.

And for the first time, Steve makes a birthday wish.

Edit:

Steve smiles, happy and content, as everyone chitchats around him.

"Hey, Eds?" Steve calls out for his boyfriend who's busy stuffing his face with bread rolls.

"Yeam?" Eddie replies, still chewing on the bread.

"Can I have a Flintstone themed birthday next year?"

Eddie swallows his bread with water, before turning to Steve with a smile so bright it could blind him. He moves closer to give his temple a light kiss.

"You got it, sweetheart. I'll be Fred, you'll be Wilma. It will be perfect."

#tw child trauma #tw child neglect #happy birthday b! ofc i got you angst for your birthday. are you even surprised??????#i hate the harringtons sorry #hope you enjoyed this #steve goes on and has 70 more wonderful birthdays #with his husband and family #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson angst #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie headcanons #steddie ficlet #dae writes #daeheadcanons

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ingravinoveritas · 4 months ago

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craftyballoonwinner mentioned you on a post "anna always got to prove to us she still got her…”

I can't wait for @nightgoodomens and @ingravinoveritas takes on today. Something happened and while I'm happy to not have GM around the fact it was MS&DT ALL night makes my eyebrows raise.

@craftyballoonwinner It has taken me the last few days to process everything that happened on Friday, because to say that I am floored by what we got is a tremendous understatement.

We knew that Michael had been in London and had specifically gotten a house in Chiswick close to David's house since November of last year, for his run in Nye at the National Theatre. We knew that the second run in Cardiff ended on June 1st and that as soon as it did, Michael immediately came back to London. We knew that--schedules and work/family commitments allowing--they were likely spending a great deal of time together (despite only seeing three pictures of them over the course of that entire interval: The Macbeth photo, the blurry pic that Anna posted back in November, and the photo from Lapland last December).

The smallest pieces, flashes of something beautiful and bright yet still obscured, ensconced from public view. So much so that I never in a million years expected Michael to come to Pub in the Park--hoped, certainly, but the thought of it actually happening seemed like a distant dream, a dazzling impossibility.

But this past Friday was just...so extraordinary and lovely precisely because it was ordinary. It wasn't a press junket or an interview or Michael and David promoting something...it was just them. The two of them together, basking in the warmth of each other's presence. It was there even in the first picture I saw, and it permeated through every clip, every moment of them at the event:

The smiles. The ease and comfort they have around each other. The effortless love that just exists between Michael and David, and that is tangible in every dimension, as much on a screen as in real life. And when they were on stage together, it wasn't even that they played off each other so well--it was that Michael's last minute appearance didn't cause either of them to lose so much as a step. It was that you just knew that they couldn't have put any other two people up on that stage without prior planning and had that same chemistry, that charm and familiarity. And it was just so damn wonderful to see Michael and David looking so happy and joyful overall.

As for what happened with Georgia, I am just more confused than anything else. For the last month and a half, Georgia heavily promoted PitP, and both she and David billed her as a co-host. Every flyer, every piece of promotion that was shared (both by the PitP social media and Georgia) mentioned her as a co-host, along with David. She even did an interview on the Gaby Roslin podcast with David and Arabella Weir where she was again specifically referred to as a co-host and admitted not knowing her own Instagram handle, as well as saying that she would be active on Insta during the PitP event.

There is a strange irony to the podcast as well, given that David actually said "We're failing our hosting duties right here!" in the above linked clip, and what seemed like a joke at the time actually came to pass. For whatever reason, Georgia failed in her duty, the job that she signed up to do. Had it been because of all the attacks that David was a target of over the past week after the blow-up with Kemi Badenoch, Rishi Sunak, and the entire Tory party, that would have made sense. I would have completely understood if Georgia, who had also been targeted in those attacks, was feeling anxious or worried about her/the kids' safety and elected to stay home instead.

However...Georgia didn't stay home. She actually was at the event, as were several of their kids (Ty and Olive, from what I've seen). She was there, drinking and dancing, and somehow that made her abdication of co-hosting duty even more conspicuous and strange. It also makes it increasingly obvious that Michael's appearance on stage was a last minute occurrence and not part of the original plan of events.

So what actually happened? I don't know. None of us know, and it's likely we won't know until a later time, if ever. But in the real world, if you are given a job to do, if a contract is signed with a written agreement to do that job and you don't do the job, there are consequences. At the very least, it can negatively affect someone's reputation and reduce the likelihood of them receiving offers for future jobs. On the other end, you could be looking at potential lawsuits for things like breach of contract. And none of this even gets into disappointed fans or attendees who might've been hoping to see Georgia host and who could possibly now claim to be victims of false advertising because she didn't.

It also feels like a huge missed opportunity on the part of PitP, who could have potentially raised hundreds or even thousands of pounds more for charity had Michael been booked as a co-host, or even a guest. Regardless of whether Michael was there in an official capacity, though, I am just glad that he was there, and that we got to see the two of them together again.

The night may have lacked the glitz and formal glamour of the NTAs, but it more than made up for it with the relaxed domesticity we got to see between Michael and David. And now that Michael is hanging around London a bit longer, hopefully there will be many more memorable nights like this to come.

#craftyballoonwinner #reply post #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #pub in the park #georgia tennant #i do sincerely hope that everyone involved is okay #but denying what is happening in front of you doesn't make it not happen #and if this wasn't the most overt example of something being wrong i'm not sure what is #but i will leave it to my followers to make up their own minds #thoughts #ineffable lovers #discourse #gif by me

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summercreolefanfictioner · 2 months ago

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the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 1.1

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x fem!oc / reader (MODERN AU)

summary: He mentions her name after 6 months in therapy, absentmindedly narrating vivid memories of her. She was the only good thing during his darkest times.

(In which Touya returns home after rebelling against his family for 7 years. And no, it wasn't about forgiveness. He wanted to fix himself because of a certain someone.)

themes: nsfw, domestic abuse, violence, alcoholism, cigarette smoking, toxic relationships, mental health, co-dependency and other related themes (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

notes: for this one, pls keep in mind that touya didn't have much scars on his face; mostly are on his body to accomodate the plot; charas might be ooc since this is modern au

Todoroki Touya has returned; it wasn't a drill.

The eldest of the Todoroki family has returned, and it was all over the news like wildfire. Pictures of him were around tabloids and newspapers, imprinted on TV screens along with family pictures of his 13-year-old self as news anchors and writers all over Japan broadcasted about the Endeavor Corp. finally having its original heir back to where he belonged. Two years ago, Todoroki Shouto announced he wouldn't be the one to replace his father, Todoroki Enji as the owner and CEO of their family business. However, Shouto focused on one part of the Endeavor Corp., particularly their sports and training business, as he wanted to become a personal trainer someday.

Touya was aware of what was happening on the business side of his family despite his rebellion seven years ago. After all, he saw them all over the news, watched his father on TV, and observed how everything was faring for them. So when he returned to the main house, he was a bit surprised at a few details he had missed. For one, his mother, Todoroki Rei, had already been discharged from the mental ward, faring well and welcoming him back with a big, warm hug and fat tears rolling down her cheeks. It also seemed that things were a lot better between his parents, but some of them still held reluctance to forgive their father.

Particularly him and Natsuo.

Enji was aware of their hatred towards him, hence he would talk to them politically, as Enji the CEO of the Endeavor Corp., not as their own father. Touya believed it was only fair. He would've resorted to violence if that wasn't the case. Speaking of which, that was another reason, he returned.

"I have to settle things between this family and me once and for all," he informed them on the first day of his return. "I need to talk to Father."

He knew what Enji would say to him. His father will apologize and be remorseful over what happened. He will also mention about him being his successor in the future, even though he was having none of it.

"I don't need that title anymore," Touya coldly argued, resisting the urge to punch him in the face as he knew he wouldn't defend himself after everything he had done to them since they were kids. "Not from you, specifically."

Enji understood. Touya meant, "I will have that title by my own hands, not because you passed it to me cheap because Shouto didn't want it anymore." Afterwards, his father explained everything he was required to do before his first day in the company. He also mentioned something along the lines of, "You need to undergo rehab and therapy for a while. I knew what you have been up to these past seven years with your cigarette addiction and alcoholism."

Before, Touya would violently react, would be against his decision and say, "You're just scared because I might surpass you." Now, he just nodded at his direction much to Enji's surprise.

"Why are you so shocked? You think I will half-ass my return to this family?" Touya questioned, slightly mocking him.

"I know you wouldn't," Enji commented.

And before Touya left his office, he added: "Just so you know, I am not doing this for the family."

Enji raised a questioning brow.

"I'm doing this because of a certain someone."

------

The first few months of Touya's rehab and therapy were tough as shit, gnawing at him like sharp nails and digging his soul like he was trapped in darkness. He felt overwhelmed by everything, talking about his feelings all day, breaking out of his shell, and slightly wanting to just break things and be alone. Touya craved darkness at some point, the urge to be violent creeping on his shoulder like the devil even though a rational part of him warned him that it would not be the best choice. He wanted to destroy himself at this point, missing the familiar pain his piercings left on his ears and nose. He was breathing hard to calm himself, persuading his brain to shut its damn trap.

It's getting annoying, fucking shit. Everything's been chaotic.

The first few days were blank, spending it staring at mindless paintings and counting how many times the water from the faucet dropped in the sink. It was eerie yet relaxing, the silence enveloping him like a plague until it bit back to tell him how much madness he needed to unleash but couldn't. He secretly had his mp3 player in his pocket, and he would watch the door and the shadow underneath, checking if someone would come in. To this day, he still couldn't take it out.

He missed that damn voice, but he needed to be patient. He shouldn't miss her. He shouldn't think about her. This is nothing, he convinced himself. This is nothing compared to all the abuse I've endured before. The angry stare. The hateful remarks. The violent beatings. The disapproval underlying Enji's tone. His rough hand smacking him in the face. The burning scars left on his skin from the heating iron. The pitiful stares. The blood he spat from his mouth.

Everything.

EVERYTHING.

I WANNA DIE.

Out of panic, he quickly reached for the mp3 player from his pocket, a secret he kept from the treatment center. He wasn't supposed to have any gadgets with him, but he knew he had to. He couldn't drink alcohol. He couldn't smoke a stick to curb this annoying feeling. He cannot destroy shit. But he had to hear that soothing voice. He had to endure.

He put in the earbuds and played the audio, his breathing coming down in sighs as he felt himself relaxing.

"Touya..."

"Yes, call me that," he said to no one, tears streaming down as he smiled in satisfaction.

"Touya..."

"Are you awake?"

"I made you breakfast."

"Touya..."

"Do you want me to take an off day from work?"

"Yes," he answered, hugging the pillow beside him and imagining it was her. "Just stay. Stay with me."

"Touya..."

"I love you..."

"Touya..."

I love you too.

------

Touya has learned something, and that therapy was another form of circle from hell, or that was just him. He heard people preach about therapy all the time, that undergoing therapy healed them, made them see the light at the end of the tunnel, and had them humbled in a way they could never explain. Touya wished it was the same for him, but nah. It wasn't. Therapy was another circle from hell. It made him too vulnerable, too open he could feel the burnt scars on his skin itching too much the more the therapist asked him about himself.

He also thought his therapist couldn't care less about his minimal responses, the first few days boring him as the man asked about his name, how old he was, what he did for a living after he ran away, what helped him cope—you know, the basic questions every therapist could ask for.

"Todoroki Touya. 26. I did odd jobs. Alcohol. Cigarettes. Fighting."

The therapist looked displeased, he noted. He probably wanted more answers than that.

"Have you been in therapy before?"

"No."

"What do you expect from this session?"

"I don't know."

"Why are you seeking therapy?"

If he was being honest, Touya's answer would be: "I don't know? Just to get this shit done, I guess?" Not like he would be rude now. After all, he returned as Todoroki Touya after seven years of rebelling. He should keep his damn trap if he wanted them all back.

Even her.

"Do you want to become a better person?"

"Yes."

next chap

masterlist

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki touya #touya todoroki #touya x reader #mha touya #mha dabi #bnha touya #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x oc #touya x oc #dabi todoroki #todoroki dabi #touya todoroki x oc #touya todoroki x reader #dabi touya

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starlyx0 · 4 months ago

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so I have noticed some people think Ben is boring (trust me I’ve seen it)

so I am here to talk about everything ben and try to explain his character!

This won’t be the best character analysis

as English is not my first language and I'm trying to bring more attention to stuff that's not talked about often.

So I'm going to split this into 6 categories to try to make writing this easier for me so bare with me.

Things I’ll go over!

personality

looks

hobbies

past & current

relationship with family

relationship with friends

This is going to have a bunch of stuff that are headcanons I'm only including them to show ppl if u can put some thought into it u can get some reasonable ones.

1 | personality

I see a lot of ppl reduce his character to only music and being mute? which really upsets me because he soo so much more,

but making his entire personality music makes me so mad

most headcanons I see are all the same PLEASE I AM TIRED of hearing what kind of songs he listens to that or all ship headcanons titled as Bens

he's a shy awkward guy we all know that cuz he really just stands in a corner awkwardly scratching his neck most times and he also doesn’t like horror or anything scary (eps 11)

hes a protective older brother not overly like Tyler where hes more protective of Tay from other people ben is more chill going and more afraid of what life throws at Lily, there’s not much here cuz more points I have fit in the other categories :)

2 | looks

he looks kinda of basic nobody can deny that so I won't, but because of his past I imagine he would have a bunch of scars ik he doesn’t and that’s a bummer cuz I really wish he had 🥲

After he lost his voice he became super facially expressive but also really good at hiding his emotions so it’s either really easy to read him or really hard no in between. also because of his past bullying, I assume it affected him and the way he presents himself that why he sticks to basic outfits and look,

overall trying not to bring attention to himself even after therapy he stuck to his habit but if someone gave him a little push and helped him he would drop it and start putting thought into his looks,

saw this somewhere I don’t remember where they said he would have curly hair as a kid but his mom didn’t know how to take care of it so they ended up shaving it and i think curly or wavy haired Ben would be so cute also he would look amazing with an eyebrow piercing %100 and uhh I genuinely don’t remember him smiling genuinely in canon so i imagine his with a downturned smile I may be wrong about that idk

3 | hobbies

did I make this a separate category just to talk about him being an artist? yes I absolutely did 🙂↕️

I fear most people forgot about it n honestly and that is criminal

there is not much said about it in canon but I’ll work with what I have,

he probably didn’t have much artistic skills when he was younger and only started doing it as a distraction and a way to calm down n he probably made himself draw

I feel like red projected onto him in that ifykyk😭

but from the picture Ben draws based on things that happen so he diff draws a bunch of random things he sees and thinks its cool, he would draw everything and everyone and I feel his art style would be more realistic tbh

but Ben also plays guitar, plays piano

, fight, used to sing, and the medic of the group like what else he do?? he is literally perfect what more can I say here but most of these are not really hobbies but skills he had to learn for the sake of his life

4 | Past & current

I’ll talk more here about how his past affects him currently,

I love to think he has a fear of fires because of the fire that burned down his house more of a headcanon tbh

see the pan he burned in that official art? it took him half an hour in his room to calm down his heartbeat and gathering around the campfire is the opposite of relaxing for him

probably hates turtlenecks with his being

and I want to talk about his voice as that affects him the most what really bothers me about the fandom is that a lot of people ignore the fact that he probably will never speak.

I see plenty of ppl benlor shippers say

“he would sing for —-🥺“ “he would whisper to comfort—🥺“ n it makes me wonder are we even talking about the same character???? which is absolute bullshit if he did that he is the one that’s gonna need comfort like please. he would probably never speak unless he sees someone's head gets ripped off there body.

It's said flat out in episode 27

That he has the option to speak but he doesn’t why? Because he hates his voice and if he hates his voice sm he chose to not speak for yearsss what makes u think he would speak for the sake of someone else's comfort when doing that only pains him? he is selectively mute for a reason I'm not saying he doesn’t have a voice but at least if u headcanon him to speak in the future at least let it be for his own sake instead of doing it for someone else or make it about ur ship.

5 | Relationship with family

Starting with his parents I don’t think they are bad parents at all they tried to help him as much as they could but they couldn’t so they opened up other options and let him move away and heal even if he’s not with them I think what the did is a good choice for their situation and their relationship would still be great tbh considering the distance

now onto Lily

I honestly can talk about them for days. I love them

Their relationship is so sweet the way Lily is stuck to him every chance she gets and ah also used to sing to her can you imagine how she felt seeing her brother coming home later and later covered in bruises not singing to her to sleep anymore watching him sneak out

she basically watched her brother spiral down and then leave she was probably too young to really understand what was going on fully so now she just wants to spend all the time she can with him and he tries to make up for lost time :(

now Aiden

most people probably forgot Aiden is the closest person to Ben and the same goes the other way around.

Aiden is a life long friend of Ben’s

he literally trusts him, follows him everywhere and lets him decide for him

they spent most of their time together since Ben moved in they live together there stuck together.

Aiden probably helped him a lot mentally helping him try new things and be more carefree

Ben also probably helped him mentally and physically patching him up and looking out for him overall,

I see some Aiden fics that are like “Oh no Ben’s gonna be so upset at me 😖” and they make him act like a nurse, not a friend and he just bandages him up then leaves as if nothing happened and someone else comes and in does all the comforting

like I can count all the fics where Ben acts like a decent person and I'd still have more fingers up than down,

it’s so upsetting how ignored their relationship is in this fandom they deserve so much more honestly.

6 | Relationship with friends

he is definitely the therapist friend

He is that kind of friend that you can tell everything to him going from weird food to the worst time of your life and won't even realize it

his friendship with Ash is very chill not the closest I'd say,

they're really just trying to keep their peace lmao

his friendship with Taylor

I imagine them as gossip girls tbh Ben being a quiet kid while Taylor is popular they definitely know some good gossip

his friendship with Tyler is something he used to find him irritating but then he realized they have a lot in common especially when Tyler was teaching him guitar which was precise since he was the one who offered

and his friendship with Logan

it's really sweet Logan would try to teach him gardening while they talk about their interests

and be absolute nerds together lmao

overall the friendship between all of them is really sweet ik I didn’t give it justice here but the found family trope and the way they find comfort in each other is just everything to me

And I'm done yappin hope u enjoyed that because that was over 1,5k words

if u have any questions feel free to ask 🫡

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xxavengingangelxx · 5 months ago

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Graves Defragged 1/?

As promised, here is the first part of deconstructing Graves. This part touches on the first half of the psychopath traits I want to discuss. Below is my take! I am NOT licensed to make these decisions. This is just for fun. It also touches on why I write Graves like a heartless mf'er in my longer fics. Because Graves is a heartless motherfucker.

Not proofread. I'm posting this before going to bed cause it's the only time I got between working 60+ hours a week, house chores, keeping hubby fed, etc.

To touch on my sociopath vs. psychopath post earlier, there are some in the field who argue that a sociopath is made and a psychopath is born. We don’t have enough information on Graves’s background to see whether or not he’s shown the same callous disregard for human life, disregard for rules, and narcissism earlier on. But he certainly shows those traits now.

And we do have this:

Graves: "That uniform was a limitation. I shed that skin..." Soap: "Like a fuckin' snake-" Graves: "Like a fucking soldier, son." — Soap confronts Graves about his past.

Let’s assume Graves was born a psychopath. It’s certainly possible. And if Adler is his father, then he’s got the genes for killing, anyway. Yes there are theories that say there are genes for criminality but I can post more on that later if y’all are interested.

How many traits of a psychopath does he actually have? Based on the behavior, we’ve seen, quite a bit!

Robert Hare, a Canadian psychologist, created the Hare Psychopathy Checklist (known today as the Hare Psychopathy Checklist Revised). Let’s go through the items with our crush man Graves in mind. Each of these items is rated a 0 if it does not apply, a 1 if it kind of applies, and a 2 if it definitely applies. They are added up at the end. Max score is a 40.

Item 1: Glibness and superficial charm = 2

You’re kidding me, right? Graves is the man of charm and glib. His good fuckin’ looks certainly help him out.

Image credit: @Vault21 on Tumblr

Remember Dark Water? Yeah…they trusted each other like brothers. Soap even hugged Graves! Graves had them (and us) fooled because not much later he betrayed them like they were enemies.

Item 2: Grandiose sense of self-worth = 1

Graves is narcissistic. We can all agree on that, right? He thought he was too good for the Marines, that the Marines were not good enough for such a special person like himself. And I could be wrong here, but he is massively successful, likely a billionaire so doesn’t he get to be a little narcissistic?

Item 3: Need for stimulation/proneness to boredom = 2

Graves was so bored in the Marines, one of the toughest branches of the military, that he saw his uniform as a limitation and sought out to make his own company of mercenaries who don’t really answer to anyone. Also, how many CEOs do you see in the field like Graves is? Close to none. He lives for getting shot at and chased. He has a scar on his face to prove it!

Item 4: Pathological lying = 2

Is this even a question? Graves lied so well to 141 that they trusted him and saw him as a brother in arms. Also, remember the scene from Congress?

Image credit: BabyZone on YouTube.

Which leads me to…

Item 5: Conning/manipulative = 2

Phillip Graves is a conman. If you look up conman in the dictionary there’d be a picture of Graves or there should…it’d make the dictionary less boring. According to Google’s dictionary, the definition of conman is, “a man who cheats or tricks someone by gaining their trust and persuading them to believe something that is not true.” I can think of a few examples. Again, Dark Water

Image credit: Wallpaper Cave

Also, the Congress scene where he lies (about WAR CRIMES) like he’s talking about the weather.

And when he pulled the rug out from under 141 in Las Almas.

Which in turn takes us to…

Item 6: Lack of remorse/guilt = 2

Graves betrayed 141, the men he had fought next to, defended, befriended all while gaining their trust.

All while smiling about it!

Image credit: halgalvv on TikTok

Look!

Image credit: Call of Duty Wiki

Which also reminds me of the war crimes Graves committed in Las Almas. Some argue that Graves cleaned house by killing off people who were supporting the cartels but based on what I’ve been told there were children in this town as well.

This also brings me to the topic of Graves’s Shadows. These men are okay with war crimes. Shadows are okay with killing people just because Graves said to. In one (or more?) of my fics I portray Shadows as I see them: callous and even sadistic with how they agree to torture a prisoner of war (POW), going so far as using rape as a weapon if Graves gives the word.

Are there some Shadows who can’t engage in this kind of behavior? Perhaps. So Graves knows which men to pick to carry out war crimes. At least that’s how I see it.

Psychopaths have physical differences in the make up of their brain that make them UNABLE to feel guilty, remorse, or fear. So when I hear people asking how serial killers and other criminals deal with their guilt, I say they do not because it doesn't exist to them. They have no idea what guilt is.

Remember: It’s not that psychopaths choose not to feel/ignore guilt. It’s that their brain is completely INCAPABLE of this emotion.

You might be asking why/how: Psychopaths think the same thing about you…how can you feel guilt? Why would you want to?

Item 7: Shallow affect = 1

Only because we are unable to see how Graves functions emotionally away from the battlefield. My forensic psychology professor said that psychopaths have 2 emotions: rage and joy. Have you seen Graves portray anything else, really? In another fic, Graves supposedly says he loves OC. Like he even knows what that means. He doesn’t. He loves controlling her and abusing her, yes.

If Graves had a kid like he does in the same fic, he doesn’t feel much affection towards him. He just likely sees him as an extension of his partner. A future soldier, someone Graves can start training from young. Something he can use to control and keep his partner in line. That child, from the moment he was born is seen as an asset by Graves. Plus, there are some good chances that kiddo might have inherited Graves’s genes that pass on his psychopathy. And even if that child does not, there’s a good chance he could develop as a sociopath because he’s not likely to see much more other than Graves continuing to abuse and control his partner and battlefield conditions.

Item 8: Callousness/lack of empathy = 2

This relates to a lack of remorse. You might ask how can Graves not feel empathy for how 141 must feel after he betrayed them? Because, like the shallow emotions and lack of remorse, Graves’s brain cannot do it. He doesn’t have the neurons for it. He doesn’t have the brain structure for it. It’s not that Graves chooses not to feel or ignore empathy. He CANNOT. It’s almost like asking someone with very low math ability to do a PhD in physics. It’s not that they’re lazy. They do not have the aptitude for it.

Graves does not have the aptitude for remorse or empathy because he doesn’t have the brain structure that makes that happen.

He think's it's funny.

Image credit: Einstein Ibraheem on YouTube

Item 9: Parasitic lifestyle = 0

Finally, one that does NOT apply to Graves. This man refuses to depend on anyone. He’s a fucking billionare that can get whatever the hell he wants whenever he wants it.

Item 10: Poor behavioral controls = 0

Hear me out! Graves is not impulsive. Lots of psychopaths are due to limitations in a part of the brain called the prefrontal cortex as well as other parts to include the limbic system. Graves is not limited in that manner. He plans, he’s meticulous, he’s detailed, and he gets away with a lot of shit because of it. Graves is not impulsive. Get him mad and he might smack the shit out of you (more than once if you make him mad enough) but when it comes to important decisions, he takes his painstaking time.

So fear we are up to the score of 14! He has scored positive on 14/20 possible points.

More to come!

#phillip graves #cod mw2 #phillip graves x reader #cod mwii #graves x reader #cod mw3 #mw2 141 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #price call of duty #gaz mw2 #forensic psychology #criminology #neurology

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onboardsorasora · 9 months ago

Note

De aged Daniel looking at the Red Bull shirt max is offering like it offended him. He wants a Ferrari shirt so Charles has to be called

I fully believe that max is taking all the pictures to share with Grace

He loves his red vroom vroom team!

De-Aged Daniel | De-Aged Daniel Pt2 | De-Aged Daniel Pt3 | De-Aged Daniel Pt 4 | Part 6

“No no Daniel, we shouldn’t climb!” Max rushed to lift the little body that was already halfway up his bookcase. To be fair, it did look like a ladder and Little Daniel had already shown a penchant for climbing things.

Grace had laughed at him when Max had complained to her. Apparently Daniel used to climb the trellises in her garden all the time and then cry when he got to the top because it was so high up.

Little Daniel giggled when Max playfully threw him over his shoulder, his high pitched laughter rang around the house. Max threw him into the couch and tickled his little tummy, grinning happily as Little Daniel screamed and squirmed out of his reach.

“Maxy! No climb! No climb!” Little Daniel screeched breathlessly, his accent eating half of his words.

“Thank you Daniel. I don’t want you to get hurt, ok?” Max looked at him imploringly, he’s never normally this scared around his nephews and he knew that kids were resilient. His sister told him all the time. But there was something about this being a younger version of his favourite person in the world that made him want to protect him at all costs. He also didn’t want something to happen to this Daniel that could impact the Daniel he knew.

“Otay!” Little Daniel patted Max’s cheeks.

“Ok I got some racing shirts for you, do you want to see?”

Little Daniel’s eyes widened, he loved watching his Dad race. He was the fastest racer ever!

Daniel bounced on the couch while Max took up a little gift bag that was delivered this morning. He opened the bag and brandished the kid sized navy Red Bull polo with a grin, only to bite back his laugh when Little Daniel frowned.

“What’s wrong? I thought you liked blue?” Max looked at the shirt then back to Little Daniel who was nibbling his palm, his brows were furrowed deeply.

“Ish not wed.” Little Daniel mumbled shyly.

“No it’s Red Bull.”

“What’s dat?”

“They’re the fastest racing team.” Max said matter of factly, he fought the urge to point to the trophies Little Daniel had been trying to grab at just this morning.

“Nuh uh.” Little Daniel shook his head, contorting on the couch as only toddlers could.

“What do you mean nuh uh?” Max argued.

“Fewawi are de fashtesh.” Little Daniel was still biting at his hand but Max could hear his smile. He sighed, defeated. He couldn’t believe he just lost an argument with a five year old.

“Fine, I’ll get you a Ferrari shirt if you want.” Max rolled his eyes and reached for his phone when Little Daniel cheered. He texted Charles his request then sighed long suffering when Charles immediately face timed him.

“What is going on? Do I need to call the police? Was that one of those ‘I’ve been kidnapped and the kidnappers told me to react normally so you’re texting a code that I should know that its not you things’?” Charles squinted his eyes and Max could tell he was trying to assess his background.

“No, I haven't been kidnapped. I really do want a ferrari shirt. Kid sized if you can find it.”

“Where am I going to just get a children’s shirt from Max? Do you think I just have ferrari t shirts in children’s sizes in my closet?” Charles furrowed his brow.

“Can’t you like go into the Ferrari store and ask for one? Aren’t you like their predestinato or whatever they call you? Of course that should give you special privileges.” Max argued.

“Privileges that don’t include getting children’s clothes?”

“Charles, look. I need a shirt. Can you get me a shirt?”

“Why are you needing a–”

“No no Daniel! You promised! No climbing buddy!” Max put his phone down to scoop up the child that was giggling away and attempting to climb onto the credenza that held his playstation controller. After this was done, Max promised himself to babyproof his house. He didn’t realize he had so much climbable furniture.

“Ok, that's enough climbing, I thought you promised!” Max put Little Daniel on his hip, watching as the little boy pressed his face into his shoulder, contrite.

“No pinky promise.” Max could hear the grin in his voice, he gasped theatrically.

“You tricked me!” He shook his head and Little Daniel’s laugh and picked up his phone again to a wide eyed Charles.

“Max, why do you have a child… and why does he look like Daniel– is he kidnapped? Do I need to call the police?”

“Charles! Calm down. No, we don't need to involve the police. This is Daniel. Just….small. Daniel, do you wanna say hi to Charles?”

“Poollleeeeeeece” Little Daniel’s mouth widened as he extended the word then he waved at the phone. “Shaaaarrrllllll.”

“Hello mate.” Charles smiled in wonder, “I hear you like Ferrari?”

“Fewawi go vrrooooooooommmmmmm!” Little Daniel mimicked a car driving off with his hand. Charles laughed.

“Seb was right, everyone’s a Ferrari fan.” Charles said smugly and Max stuck his tongue out at him.

#maxiel #de aged daniel #max/daniel #my fic

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nyaagolor · 11 months ago

Text

Merry DL6mas!

I wrote an inordinate amnt of words about Edgeworth and MVK and dynamics and meta and w/e, stuck it below the cut so I don't obliterate ur dashes

So originally I wanted to make a relationship flowchart for all the characters and then realized that the amnt of caveats would make the image entirely text so I’m just forgoing the image altogether and doing this group by group starting with the VKs bc DL6mas and whatnot. It’s an essay and also unorganized so um. Have fun or apologies in advance?

Anyway. I think AA1 intending to be standalone and then getting these additional games does some fun things to the characters but especially for Manfred. I’m of the opinion that he was not created or written to be deep or nuanced or anything. He’s the final boss, we weren’t supposed to get more on him, he’s honestly just a symbolic representation of the forces Phoenix works against rather than a character in his own right (in AA1 at least). He’s cartoonishly evil and that was supposed to be it— and then we get JFA and Franziska and suddenly Manfred gets all this retroactive characterization as the story is built beyond its initial parameters. That’s part of the reason why I’m so interested in him— all this new information comes exclusively through other characters and insinuations rather than him actually being on screen up until Investigations and even then it’s like 4 lines. We get more on Manfred, yes, but it’s a shadow on the wall. I’m sorry to bring up allegory of the cave about the gay lawyer simulator but w/e I’m a melodramatist, it’s an allegory of the cave situation. The reason I bring that up is because I don’t really think about Manfred in the same way as other characters; I piece together how I think of him though his relationships and impact on others rather than as an independent dude. His past is inconsequential to me and the ppl who flesh him out are the real troopers but he matters to me more as a vessel for narrative themes than anything. This is all to say that everything I’m doing is conjecture and just kind of filling in the gaps based on my current understanding of the text. Headcanons for the broad and far-reaching audience of me, myself, and I.

That being said. The whole spiel I just went on about “Manfred as defined by his relation to others” works quite nicely as tie-in to how he feels about Edgeworth, because I think Edgeworth occupies this symbolic space in MVK’s mind. Yes, Edgeworth is a kid he mentors and who lives in his house and who he is legally responsible for, but Edgeworth is also this physical manifestation of his failures. Edgeworth is a child, yes, but to MVK he’s a ghost, a consequence, a punishment. He may not be a VK, but he IS karma (sound the turnabout melody I am kissing you on the lips for this line btw).

This also means that the way MVK views Edgeworth as an extension of his own thoughts about the DL6 incident rather than solely as his own person, which is something that changes pretty drastically over time. The way he talks about and to Edgeworth goes beyond who and what Edgeworth is as a person because for MVK, there was always an aspect of the self in there, and MVK interacting with Edgeworth is as much a reflection of his own identity as it is how he feels about Miles.

If there is one thing the entire VK family does extraordinarily well it's projection, and I think MVK has been doing this since he brought Edgeworth into the picture (and before that, but it’s only relevant to me now). This is personally how I rationalize how absolutely batshit half of MVK’s actions are. I know the actual reason is “we expanded the characters around him which necessitates certain actions to drive the plot and inconsistency results from this expansion” blah blah blah paratext more or less confirms this, but we are going full Watsonian in this bitch.

I have talked at length about the actual medical stuff around gunshots and how bullets are typically removed from joints specifically because of how badly they damage the surrounding tissues over time, I’ll link the post if anyone is curious, but tldr bullet wound symbolism. I bring this up now because I think the bullet acts as a physical representation for DL6, it literally and metaphorically tears him up inside. No one else knows about this murder, most people have forgotten the penalty, but he never did, because he can’t. For someone who has structured his entire self on the idea of perfection, this is an event of unprecedented magnitude, and the living proof of it is eating dinner at his table every night. MVK sits with the weight of what he’s done, and whether or not he feels justified or guilty or w/e doesn’t even matter because it’s making him lose his goddamn mind. His behavior gets more intense, more irrational, because before he was just a massive, scheming, paragon of perfection (and corruption but shh) but now he is in this inescapable cycle as the result of his choices and his choices exclusively. I don’t propose to know nor care about how he felt about it or what the specific emotions he felt were because they’re not particularly important in my mind, only that the lingering ghost of DL6 is driving MVK kinda bonkers and that drastically alters how he interacts with Edgeworth and Franziska.

I’ve seen a lot of debate about why MVK took in Edgeworth, but my hot take is that he actually doesn’t know. I don’t think MVK ever processed DL6, I think he is filled with contradictory feelings (how ironic) and that this is what eats at him through all those years. Why did he take in Edgeworth? Because he felt guilty? Because he wanted to train him into everything his father hated as a twisted kind of revenge? Because he wanted a prodigy and saw himself in Edgeworth? It’s all of them, it’s none of them, it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t know. Why did he prosecute Edgeworth right before the statute of limitations ended? Was it revenge? Hatred? A way to test his prodigy? To project his own gnawing nest of emotions onto the person he felt embodied the incident? Same deal. (the real answer is that it doesn’t really matter bc we were not supposed to think about it this hard but. Shh. dw about it.)

I don’t take much interest into Manfred’s inner world because I ultimately think that a lot of his actions, while completely under his control, are him acting on impulse, on him doing irrational things because DL6, in a sense, killed him too. He comes out of that elevator a different person (not worse (can’t go down from rock bottom), not better, just a different kind of asshole), but destroyed from the inside out by a murder he committed. He’s so arrogant, so entitled, that he could never let this go, and I think that drives so much of the insane shit he tries to pull. He has centered his life around the axis of DL6 and he will always be pulled back into its orbit. The further we get from DL6 the more time he has to think, the more it tears him apart, the more the contradictory feelings about it rear their heads in turn and create this guy who is just desperate and angry. And when it’s days before the statute of limitations he just becomes completely subsumed by it all. He was always cruel, but now he’s cruel and desperate and completely willing to drag everyone down with him. The desperation is the important part.

I will say though that he is, irrefutably, his own downfall. He molded Edgeworth in his own image, he created Phoenix Wright the defense attorney as a consequence, and it is the two of them who send him to his death. He is the one who planned the murder of Turnabout Goodbyes. From beginning to end, it’s his own hand. Manfred is one of the only characters in this series whose actions are not precedented by extenuating circumstances. It’s allllll him. He’s the bitch. He has been and will always be a selfish prick and for as much as he is lashing out because of DL6 he does so by dragging others in.

Extremely long prelude to say that I think how he treats edgeworth varies so wildly over time and is so irrational in its presentation because of everything I mentioned before. He is Edgeworth’s greatest kindness and his worst nightmare— at the same time!! Multitasking king. He takes in Edgeworth as a snap decision for reasons he doesn’t entirely understand, and I think because of that he never quite views Edgeworth as a son (at least in the traditional sense). Edgeworth is not his child in the same way that Franziska is his child (and we will get to her in a different post I promise), but he’s not just some random kid either. Manfred is emotionally tied to him through DL6, and I think the fact colors the way that Manfred treats him. It’s a dynamic that I can’t really put a label on, because it’s mentor/student with so much extra baggage that it feels different than that. There is an emotional connection between them, a sense of atonement and revenge, and I don’t think either of them will ever be able to articulate what that means. Manfred does not address Edgeworth as his child, and I think there is an attempt in his language to distance himself from Edgeworth, but he finds himself drawn to Edgeworth all the same (bc Edgeworth is DL6 etc etc). He did not ask for a child, he does not WANT a child, but he has one! Get fucked!

MVK is obsessed with his own image, with this idea of perfection, and insofar as Edgeworth is DL6, Edgeworth is an extension of MVK. He pushes his ideals and tactics onto Edgeworth the second Edgeworth decides he wants to be a prosecutor, because even more than Franziska, Edgeworth is MVK’s living legacy. He is quite literally Manfred’s midlife crisis and I think Edgeworth wanting to be like him and becoming this Demon Prosecutor is this insanely fucked up kind of catharsis in MVK’s mind. And as Edgeworth becomes more like him, as he takes up MVK’s mantle, he becomes a mirror— that is where shit gets fun. I don’t think I need to spell out the ways in which MVK was simultaneously caring and cruel to his kids— you’ve seen Sound the Turnabout Melody, you’re seen Turnabout Goodbyes, we know this song and dance.

The more time Edgeworth spends around him, as Edgeworth reflects more of Manfred back at himself, MVK simultaneously becomes proud and revolted. Edgeworth is growing beyond the consequences of DL6 and into a mirror of his adopted father figure mentor person. He is, from the ashes of DL6, becoming Manfred von Karma, and I think that drives MVK insane. He is becoming firmly entrenched in MVK’s life at this point. For as much as Edgeworth is DL6, he is now MVK himself. He becomes a walking contradiction, and Manfred’s projection then manifests as this rapidly oscillating clusterfuck of reactions. Edgeworth is out of his control but he’s super important to MVK— recipe for disaster.

He builds Edgeworth up, teaches him everything he knows, starts to treat him like a son while at the same time irrevocably traumatizing for the rest of his life. He loves who Edgeworth is becoming while hating everything he stands for, and I think this absolute garbage pile of a child-rearing philosophy is as much a projection of himself as anything. It was never about Edgeworth the person. At first, MVK does not care in the slightest about Miles Edgeworth and it is only when he does, even a little bit, that shit hits the fan in my mind. Edgeworth the physical manifestation of DL6 is being overtaken by Edgeworth the Demon Prosecutor, and MVK starts to be proud of him— but this is an eventuality he did not plan for and cannot do anything about. For both of them, it’s personal now, and no amount of pushing each other away is really going to fix that.

Anyway I don’t think literally any of this was intended. Manfred is not this deep, I am making literally all of this up, but it’s fine. If you got this far I salute you. Miles time. To pivot to Edgeworth’s POV for a while, I think that from the very beginning, Edgeworth looked up to MVK. It’s not the same idolization that Franziska does, but it’s up there. Obviously he idolized his father, but DL6 not only served as a complete evisceration of his family but also his ideals. Gregory the man was dead, but if criminals can kill his father and get away with it, that collapses the foundation on which Miles built his understanding of justice. Gregory the defense attorney– his ideals, his legacy, his philosophy– he died in that elevator too. Edgeworth pivots, completely independently, from a man who wants to protect to a man who wants to punish (and I firmly believe that this was his own decision and not Manfred pushing him into it, if MVK had not adopted him he still would have become a prosecutor just not so much of a dick).

But so Manfred takes him in, and was spectacularly ill-equipped to handle this. I always saw Manfred as emotionally distant on the best of days (he’s born in the 50s what did u expect) but for Miles, who he barely considers a son at all, he isn’t capable of being the emotional support he needs. He never would be and never wanted to be. That’s layer one of baggage. What MVK does provide for Miles, though, is a purpose. Miles does not wallow in his father’s death, because he is taken in by someone who acts as a paragon of Miles’ new worldview. Manfred never lets a criminal get away. He is perfect in that way, and it gives Miles a tangible (albeit impossible) goal to strive for. MVK mentors him in this worldview and gives him the tools to outlet his grief and rage into something productive— fucked up and wrong, maybe, but productive. That’s layer two of baggage.

For as complicated and twisted and contradictory as MVK’s feelings towards Edgeworth are, Edgeworth for most of his childhood sees MVK as this pillar of everything that is good and treats him with intense amounts of respect. He accepts any cruelty as tough love, he adopts his ideals and his tactics and his suit. Edgeworth needed *something* after the grief of DL6 and MVK is what he got, so Miles latches on and never lets go, for better or for worse. Miles Edgeworth is not Manfred von Karma but he actively tries to take his shape because whether or not it’s reciprocated, Edgeworth loves him and everything that he stands for. Manfred cares about him in that respect at the very least. And ultimately, this is my big take on Edgeworth: I think Edgeworth actively chased MVK. He became MVK on purpose. It’s a result of trauma and built entirely on false pretenses, but Miles is the one who takes the initiative and Manfred indulges him— And then Turnabout Goodbyes happens.

Everything Edgeworth is, everything he made himself become, is wrong. Edgeworth has molded himself into a person he does not recognize and that person turned out to be a monster. The person Edgeworth idolized, respected, and maybe even loved is the very person who destroyed his life. He is wearing the skin of the monster he wanted to destroy, and he did it on purpose (in his mind). This is not to say he had much if any agency in this situation— this is not a path he would naturally take, this is structured entirely under false pretenses, and he was clouded by grief, traumatized, and most importantly nine, but what matters here is that Edgeworth FEELS like it’s his fault, and the complete collapse of his worldview AGAIN is what drives all the bullshit of RFTA. Edgeworth is not MVK (and you can tell because he is capable of self-reflection which MVK is ostensibly not (or at least unwilling to)), but it still drives him to this complete and utter devastation. He sees Manfred in himself and it isn’t until AAI1/2 that he’s able to see Gregory as well. MVK filled a need for Edgeworth at the lowest point in his life (and absolutely made him worse but that’s not the point). Edgeworth respected and loved Manfred’s ideals, STILL chases the idea of the man, and because of that still cares about him. He becomes aware of who the monster he loved is, and how has to reconcile with what it means to be that person’s reflection and legacy despite knowing— and feeling, and BEING— all the harm he caused.

Those contradictory feelings that I talked about earlier? Love and hatred all mixed together— questions that cannot be answered and actions taken without knowing why? That’s Edgeworth’s final gift from Manfred: he inherits the bullet and the legacy he carries forward. Unlike Manfred, though, Edgeworth takes that pain and shares it, lets other people in, scoffs at the veneer of perfection and allows himself to be hurt and vulnerable and it is only in that way that Edgeworth can break out of VK’s shadow and break the cycle. He holds onto the ideals that he learned from Manfred, separates them from the nastiness and acknowledges the place they came from. It’s obvious in the way that Edgeworth carries aspects of that legacy forward that he’s capable of disseminating everything that Manfred is, acknowledging the way he’s been influenced by him and what he still respects about the man despite it all, and make peace with the rest of it. The cycle of violence and corruption started with Manfred and Edgeworth makes sure that it ends with him too.

I have a ton more to talk about with respect to his teaching methods and the nitty gritty of how he interacts with his kids but that’s for the Fran post. This is more of the “whys” than the “hows” but I’ll get there :)

Anyway, I think that’s it. I’m sure there’s more that I’m missing but my head is beyond empty rn and I can’t think of anything else I wanna talk about with respect to these two. I know I literally just spewed 3k words about into this textpost but I do love chatting about them (total shock I know) so if u also have thoughts or ideas abt anything related to them lmk :3

#ace attorney #miles edgeworth #manfred von karma #mod vex #long post #meta

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trivialbob · 10 months ago

Text

Last night Sheila and I went to a seafood place. For a cheeseburger.

Coastal Seafoods in Minneapolis is a fresh seafood market. It's a neat little place. When @littlerunnergurl visited us years ago she and I shopped there for ingredients of a seafood stew LRG made for us.

There's a small counter for hot food in back. Two four-tops and a small row of bars stools next to a cold window is the complete dining room. A Facebook page devoted to smashburgers had mentioned this place's burger recently. That's what got us over there.

We ordered one Coastal Burger. "Two 4oz Wagyu Beef Patties, Caramalized Onion Jam, Pickles, American Cheese, & Dijon Mayo on Toasted Brioche!" (images from the Coastal Foods website)

I also ordered the wonderful looking Connecticut Style Lobster Roll. "Warm Lobster & Seasoned Butter on a Toasted Tom Cat Bakery Roll"

The cook cut them in half so Sheila and I could try some of each. Both were fantastic. We didn't order French fries or any sides. The older I get the wiser I am about not ordering too much food. For sure if there had been a serving of fries in front of me I wouldn't have left until the plate was clean. As it was, we walked out feeling satisfied yet not needing to adjust the car seats back so we could fit in the Subaru.

I'd been wanting to see some dive bars. A block away is the Fraternal Order of Eagles #34. It's an appropriately dimly lit place where most of the customers seemed to know each other. We didn't order food, but I almost did just to purchase a cheeseburger for under ten bucks, a rare thing these days.

The bartender was friendly. She knew what to pour for people a few times without asking. I chuckled when she asked us if we'd be okay for a bit unattended when she went outside for a quick smoke.

It's located at the intersection of two similarly named streets. When I was a kid it was mind-blowing when I saw Minneapolis street signs with the same numbers. Sure, the Av and St make a difference, but it still seemed like division by zero to someone not yet accustomed to how cities named numbered east/west and north/south roads. Similarly, I was amazed when my dad pointed out the named streets in some places were in freaking alphabetical order.

After a bottle of beer (and a sunset) we drove south a short distance through the cold and dark night to the Schooner Tavern. It too is at an intersection of numbered streets.

It was a bit louder, but no less dimly lit, than the previous place. The two bartenders were very friendly. Sheila and I again sat at the bar for one beer.

We listened to conversations around us. It was only 5:30 PM but some folks appeared to have started the evening early. A frazzled looking guy (who was probably 15 years younger than he actually appeared) must have gotten the happy hour special on "fucks" which seem to have been a 20-for-1 deal. Whew, I got tired of hearing that word used as noun, verb, adjective, preposition, pronoun, article, and adverb.

The bottles behind the bar appeared to glow. If the bar had been quieter maybe I would have heard them hum.

Sometimes I want of those tiny Red Bull refrigerators with the glass door (as seen in the left side of this picture I took). Sheila doesn't think it would look appropriate on our coffee table no matter how well it fit. People would probably trip over the power cord she also claims. I still want one though.

We still enjoyed the atmosphere while we had one beer. After that we headed to the brewery by our house. It's at the intersection of one named and one numbered street, more to the sensibilities of my suburban mind.

We met up with one couple we know and another couple who were on a second date. The guy is a regular, the woman is new to that crowd. At first she seemed like she wanted to move to a private table. Soon though she warmed up to us, and the six of us had a great conversation.

I'm going to start looking up some more dive bars for another weekend.

#dive bars #numbered streets

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beefrobeefcal · 1 year ago

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BB, I am on death's doorstep over this man's tummy in that visibly too-small tac vest. Look at it. LOOK AT THAT SQUISHY BELLY! 😭💀

So this got me thinking...what if Mouse comes across the tac vest one day while she and Frankie are in the middle of a decluttering weekend? She stashes it away for safekeeping with a mischievous smirk.

Later that night, after Frankie's had his fill of their favorite takeout, Mouse brings out the vest and asks him to try it on. "Please, Frankie Baby? I wanna see how it looks on you. 🥺"

Frankie looks reluctant...the vest was already on the snug side the last time he wore it in Colombia, and he's grown in more ways than one since that dark time. And Mouse? Well, Mouse KNOWS the vest isn't gonna fit. She's not even sure it's gonna close over his round belly...especially with all the indulging he did at dinner.

But sweet baby Frankie is not one to deny his Mouse anything. Right, BB??

Lovey - you know I got you!

HELL YEAH. YES. WE NEED TO SEE IT ON HIM. and we get out wish.

Smuttiest regards,

Beefro 👌🥩💜

--------<3---------

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Chubby!Frankie one shot

The Catfish & The Mouse: Frankie Takes a Trip Down Memory Lane

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary: Mouse finds some old relics and Frankie puts on a show.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 3,722

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, weight talk, food talk, belly worship, bely rubs, size kink, unprotected p in the v sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy, kids!), v-fingering, dirty talk, the usual Frankie & Mouse shenanigans

Author's Notes: Thank you @thehalflifeofloveisforever - not only did you gift the amazing art of Frankie, you also stuck it out at the first beefro @ the Movies and listened to my unhinged thirsting for Frankie on screen. Thank you for being a Friendo and this one is for you!

And thanks to my lovely Beta Fish @neverwheremoonchild for doing what they do best 💜

--------<3---------

When you and Frankie moved in together, you’d rented a storage locker for all you stuff that didn’t quite fit in your first apartment. But even after moving into your house, neither of you really gave that storage locker much thought outside of grabbing the Christmas decorations each late fall and retiring them in January.

But you’d had enough of that monthly charge on your credit card getting a little higher over time and that was why you were now sitting on a box, sorting through your and Frankie’s separate histories. Frankie was at work, and you’d agreed to not dispose of his stuff – just to bring it home and let him deal with it - you’d managed to sift and sort through all of your boxes, filling up the back of the rented cube van. There was one thing left in the locker and it was a large, metal chest containing Frankie’s military gear.

He hadn’t hidden his past from you and had even shown you what he had in the chest when it was being stored. You opened it and pulled some of the clothing and gear out, smiling at how small it looked. The clothing and gear were from when Frankie was a much, much thinner man, easily less than half his current size. You then pulled an envelope out and opened it, revealing some pictures of Frankie with Santi, Will and Benny. Even though you knew it was him, it still didn’t feel real that the lanky, broad shouldered, baby face smiling in the photographs was now the big bellied, sweet, chubby Frankie that you loved so much.

A devious grin crossed your face as a thought entered your mind. The clothing and gear in the chest would have been bigger on you, but you were absolutely certain that Frankie would be hard pressed to even get the vest around his chest, let alone his belly…

*****

Frankie stood up from the table after devouring his dinner. His stomach was big and round, projecting out and side to side and he huffed as he stood to his full height with his back arched to accommodate the weight he’d packed into himself.

“You ate well…”, you cooed, patting his belly.

He’d been eating really well as of late, his tummy becoming more prominent. He also now needed bigger portions to get full, and you had been more than happy to oblige him. He’d told you last week that he’d had to size up his coveralls again, and when you asked him to bring home his old ones and show you, the sight of him standing before you with his empty belly and chubby love handles stopping the zipper from closing left you a whining mess, begging him to fuck you.

“Yeah… getting pretty big.”, he smiled back, slapping his belly. The dull thud noise it made from being so full was music to your ears. But it did give you pause.

He’d mentioned a few times how big he felt, how big he was getting, and you weren’t sure if this was still what he wanted. He never expressed frustration or discomfort, but there was an air of something in his comments.

“You still happy?”, you asked softly, your hand sliding down and rubbing his underbelly, feeling how heavy his tummy was. “Still happy with this belly?”

He looked at you, his hand finding yours, and nodded with a little bit of nervousness. “Yeah… think I’m where I wanna be… here… not any bigger though; it’s getting kinda hard working on big rigs when I’m just as… big.”, he chuckled at his last statement, then his voice went quiet. “Is that… okay?”

“Yeah, honey… totally fine.”, you smiled, standing on your tip toes and kissing him. “I love you and want you to be happy… and if that means this – “, you said giving his belly a squeeze. “- stays like this? I’m happy.”

He kissed you back sweetly and moved to the couch while you cleaned up after dinner.

*****

After the final pan was washed, dried and put away, you walked into the den to find Frankie laid back and snacking on some snack cakes that you didn’t even realize he’d grabbed enroute to the couch.

His eyes turned to you, and a bashful grin appeared on his face as he swallowed.

“Hey princess… just having a snack.”

You huffed a laugh and walked up to him, pressing a kiss to his forehead and rubbing his belly. Even as he was laid down, his tummy felt firm and full under a layer of softness, and it protruded up from his body.

He hummed in contentment as his hand interlaced his fingers with yours, pulling your hand to his mouth and kissing it.

He looked up at you and smiled. “I meant to ask: how’d you fare with the storage locker?“

“Oh, it’s done. I conquered that shit like a pro.” You gave him your best Rosie the Riveter pose.

“Hey! Good girl!” Frankie beamed up at you. “And my stuff?”

“All your stuff remained intact and it’s in the garage…”, you stated, then your voice dipped into a low, sultry tone as your fingers walked up his hefty tummy. “… except a few things I brought inside… for you to try… on.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raised and he lowered the footrest. He huffed as he sat up and his belly pushed his thighs open, and he leaned forward, hands on his knees.

“What you got for me, princess?”

“Just stay there… I’ll be right back.”, you chirped as you skipped down the hallway to your bedroom.

When you emerged back in the den, Frankie looked up and his jaw dropped. There you were, in the black bra and pantie lingerie set he’d picked up for your last birthday, your platform heeled combat boots and his tactical vest.

“Oh fuck…”, Frankie groaned, reaching under his belly and palming his crotch. “You know what you’re doing, princess?”

“You like it?”, you tried your hand a pin up pose.

He held his hand out to you. “Come here, princess.”

You grinned wryly at him and took a step back.

He shook his head, keeping firm eye contact, and he growled, “No… don’t you dare. You wanna dress like a soldier, princess, you take orders like one.”

You eyed him again, gauging if it would be worth it for you to make him chase you. He narrowed his eyes at you, and leaned forward a bit further, like he was readying himself to get up.

“Don’t do it, princess. Get over here and fall in fucking line. Now.”

“Sir. Yes, sir.”, you purred as you walked towards him, swaying your hips, and took his hand.

Frankie smugly grinned and tugged you on him; you squeaked and hitched your knee on the arm rest and stood, straddling his thigh.

“Good girl…”, he crooned as his hand not holding yours reached between your legs and stroked your clothed folds, and you sucked in a breath.

“You look good in my vest, princess… it’s a little big on you, but you look fucking hot…”

“Want you to put it on… wanna see it on you… please Frankie…”, you whined, rocking your hips against his hand.

He huffed a chuckle and smiled. “Mouse baby, you’ve ensured I can’t fit into anything I wore last year, let alone shit I wore in the military.”

“I know… that’s the point.”, you panted, wrapping your hand around the wrist of the hand between your thighs. “Wanna see you try… wanna see all my hard work… please, Frankie baby.”

Frankie’s face slacked and he let out soft groan at your words and your palm coming down to the front of his full belly and firmly patting and caressing him.

“There were pictures in with your tac vest, Frankie… you were so skinny… but look at you now… you got big, baby… twice the man you used to be… eating well… getting big… getting round… making your belly heavy and full… look so good like this… but I gotta see it, baby… gotta see you get this vest on you…”

His hazy eyes looked at you as he panted slightly. He nodded dumbly, licked his lips, and hoarsely replied, “Yeah, princess… that what you want?”

You nod and grin mischievously. “Yeah, baby… wanna see you in this – “, you shimmied your chest to highlight the vest, “- so we can have a comparison.”

A smile crept across Frankie’s face; he gently pushed you back and hoisted himself off the couch and stood up. Even with the platform combat boots, he stood a head above you.

He hooked his fingers in the arm holes of the vest and pulled you towards him slowly.

“Looks like it might be a little small, princess.”, he grinned. “Anything you want me to try and get on with it?”

Your hand snakes down his front and you gently gripped his almost-hard cock through his jeans. “It’s laid out in the bedroom for you…”

You tugged his cock and he grunted. “Don’t tease… Gimme the vest, Mouse…”

You let go of him and undid the vest, removed it and handed it to him. He watched your every move and made a low whistle at you standing before him in nothing but your lace lingerie and boots.

He took one last look then walked down the hall to your bedroom.

*****

You sat on the couch, curled up in the corner where Frankie previously sat, playing on your phone while you waited for Frankie. You heard some grunting and swearing coming from your bedroom, and you looked up, trying to see down the hallway.

“You need help, honey?”, you called out.

“Close your eyes, princess!”, he called back.

You did as requested, and you heard the bedroom door open, then heard Frankie lumber down the hallway towards you.

You knew he stood in front of you, not only from his footsteps creaking the floor, but you also could hear the fabric he was wearing creaking and stretching over his body.

He was breathing heavier, like getting the clothing on was strenuous but you could hear his smile when he spoke next, his voice deep.

“Open your eyes, princess.”

The sight before you was everything you had hoped it would be. Frankie stood with his legs wide, as if standing at ease, his cargo khaki pants pulled up but tight on his thighs and undone, and his faded red t-shirt pulled tight across his chest and shoulders and unable to go down any further than that. His round, fully belly prominently sticking out, preventing both the shirt and pants from being able to meet and sit where intended. His old Standard Oil trucker hat was on his head with his aviator sunglasses on his face.

You noted the tac vest was not on him but hanging at his side. He saw you look at it and he sucked in a breath and held it up in one hand as his other slapped his belly.

“The vest ain’t gonna fit, princess… sorry baby… you fed me way too good.”, he chuckled as you got up from the couch and walked towards him.

“I’ll help.”, you cooed, taking the vest from him as you both had stupid grins on your faces.

You helped him get the over his head and one arm through, but getting the side done up was a struggle.

“Frankie… did this ever fit you?”, you giggled as you tried to tug the sides together.

“Well… ooof! … yeah… but the last time I tried when we moved in together, it was – hmph! – getting a bit tight…”, he grunted as he tried to suck in his belly to to avail, then he laughed, and his tummy bounced. “Look what you’ve done to me!”

Your giggles continued as you finally got one of the clips to close, right under his armpit.

“Hey! We got one!”, you chirped, and Frankie laughed.

“Jesus, it’s tight!”, he huffed out with a smile.

You stood back and took in all that was Frankie. “God dammit…”, you breathed as you looked over his big form. “Look fucking good, Morales…”

“I look like an overstuffed sausage shoved in a shrunken leather glove – “

“Don’t… baby, don’t do that…”, your hand cupped his cheek and turned his face to yours, and the other caressed his chubby waist. “You look like a man who’s served his country and is now enjoying life with a woman who loves every pound, every ounce of you.”

“Fuck, you’re good.”, he said with a lopsided grin. “I love you so much… I’m a lucky bastard.”

“I love you, too.”

He leaned down and kissed you, then pulled away with his eyes and smile wide.

“Take a picture! Mouse! Get your phone and take a picture!”, he excitedly said.

You giggled, grabbing your phone. Frankie posed as though nothing was amiss with his outfit and then you got an idea. You grabbed o w of the photograph of Frankie wearing the exact outfit he was in and gave it to him, giggling.

“Hold it up. I’ll get a ‘before and after’ picture!”

He looked at the photo then smiled and held it up, and you got a shot of him, twin smiles almost a decade apart.

The size difference shot a hot spike in your core, and you clenched your thighs. It didn’t go unnoticed by Frankie, and his smile slid into a devilish grin. He took your phone to have a look; you thought he was texting the photo to himself.

“You like what you see, princess?” He began moving towards you. “Like seeing how big you got me?”

“Yeah… baby, yeah, I do.”, you almost panted, nodding as he stood less than a foot from you.

“Tell me how it makes you feel to see me like this- “, he grabs your hand pushes it against his belly, shaking it and making you feel the weight of him, “- to know this is all your handiwork.”

You let out a breathy whimper from your parted, pouted lips.

“Tell me, princess, how it feels to know you’re making me outgrow all my clothes so fast.”

“Frankie…”, you whimpered in a whisper, realizing he was backing you slowly towards the couch.

“Yeah, princess? You wanna tell me how much you like knowing how much bigger I am than you? That why you keep me well fed?”

The back of your knees hit the couch and you fell back with a squeak and Frankie stood over you between your parted knees. He reached under his arm and undid the vest, pulling it off and tossing it to the side.

He bent down and slid his hand between your thighs, pushing your lace thing to the side and feeling how slick you were.

“So fucking wet for me… my kinky baby… my princess gets wet from getting me fat.”, he smugly cooed. He kept eye contact with you as you breathed in and opened your mouth, eyes trying not to roll back. You could feel your cunt gushing again with the way he spoke to and looked at you.

“And my princess likes being called out for making me big… I can feel you getting wetter… pretty little pussy’s just fluttering and clenching on nothing but the hope this fat guy’s gonna fuck you stupid, huh?”

Your eyes widened and before you could respond, he pushed two thick fingers into your core. You gasped and grabbed his arm as his other hand played on the headrest of the couch beside your head.

“Fuck, Mouse… so fucking wet… baby, so tight… love this pussy… love my pussy… so fucking warm and wet…”, he murmured as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. The sounds coming from your mouth and count were like music to him; your whimpers, gasps and cries juxtaposed to the wet, slick and obscene sounds he was pulling from your core.

“Frankie! … please… please baby… please I need… I want you on me… wanna – fuck! – wanna feel how heavy you are… please… please fuck me!”

He smiled and kept fucking you with his fingers. “Princess, you're so sneaky. You've got everybody fooled."

You looked up at him, panting and confused. "What...what do you mean, Frankie?"

“People take one look at me and assume I'm a greedy, fat guy. But YOU'RE the greedy one, baby.”, he growled, circling his thumb on your clit, increasing the speed of his fingers. “You can't get enough of this belly, can you? Never gonna get your fill? You fucking love it when people ask you what you're feeding me. You think you do a good job of hiding it, but I know, Princess. I know."

Words failed you as the coil in your lower belly snapped and you came hard on his fingers, a wet patch now on the couch under you.

“Good girl…”, he groaned as he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. “I could tell everyone I got fat on your sweet pussy, and they’d believe me.”

He grinned and leaned down, catching your lips in a fevered kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue and your arms wrapped around his neck, and moaned into his mouth, “Please, Frankie…”

He pulled back and you both tugged and pulled at the too-tight khakis and his boxers to free his aching cock. You then removed your panties, and he pushed you to lay across the couch as you frantically kissed one another. He sat up on his knees and gripped your knee, pulling your hips towards him, and he lined himself up with you and pushed in, leaning over you. Both of you let out a gasp as his hand found yours and interlaced, and you assumed Frankie was going to make love to you.

You couldn’t have been more wrong. What you didn’t realize was how riled up Frankie really was at your confirmation that you loved what you’d done to him. You’d made him bigger, softer, heavier, bulkier – and you loved him even more for it. The idea that he, at his size and in too small clothing, made you that wet and needy… it flipped a switch in his brain and put him on auto pilot; set him on a dangerous crash trajectory to fucking you hard and fast into the couch.

He let go of your hand and when you tried to sit up to catch his mouth in a kiss, he pulled your hips towards him harshly. You fell back and he snapped his hips into yours, forcing low grunts from him and panting whines from you. He put his whole weight into his harsh thrusts, making each time his cock impaled you sting – but you didn’t care right now, he felt so good.

“Can’t even see where I’m fucking you… made me so big… can’t see your tight pussy sucking me in… but fuck… I can feel it…you like having a fat guy fuck you, princess?... that’s why you’re so fucking wet…”

You cried out as he picked up the pace and intensity. He planted a foot on the floor, giving him more power to his already heavy thrusts and causing your body to rub into the coarse fabric of the couch. You could feel the friction making your back warm, and you knew you’d feel it afterwards – but you didn’t care right now; he felt so good.

“Fr-Frankie!... baby… keep – fuck!... keep going… don’t stop… look s-so good… so big… so fucking big!”

“Yeah?... that’s why your pussy’s holding on so hard… fuck… feels so good, Mouse… look so beautiful, baby… fucking small under me…”, he grunted, feeling your cunt start to spasm, knowing you were close. He released one of your knees, brought his thumb to his mouth and coated it in his spit, then brought it to your swollen clit and rubbed circles. “Come on, princess… come for me… come on… lemme feel it…”

Your body reacted quickly, and you came hard, back arched, his name peeling from your throat.

“That’s it… good girl… good…fucking…girl!”, Frankie groaned, his own release building quickly. His thrusts fell out of rhythm and as your body started to come down, he found his end. Pounding into you in a few quick thrusts, he came, and you could feel his hot spend filling you up and seeping out of you on to the couch.

Normally, you would have stay connected for a little while longer, but Frankie’s exertion in combination with the added weight he carried with his big dinner left him needing to sit down. When he pulled out of you, you let out a soft whimper and reached for him.

“I know, princess… I know… I’m sorry… I gotta sit down…”, he panted, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it before sitting back heavily in his spot at the end of the couch. He placed his hand on your ankle and rubbed gently.

You sat up, now keenly aware of the mess under you, and crawled to his side, snuggling in. You rubbed his belly gently; he was still feeling quite full, and you knew he needed to let it settle.

The faded red t-shirt was still pulled tight across his chest, and you slipped your finger under the rolled up hem, feeling almost no give.

“How did you manage to get this on?”, you asked quietly with a smile.

Frankie wiped his forehead and chuckled. “It wasn’t easy… and I can’t imagine getting it off will be either.”

Your phone vibrated, alerting you to a text, and then a few more in rapid succession. You sat up, scanning the room and finally found your phone on the floor next to the couch. Picking it up, you unlocked it and saw your group chat with Benny, Santi, Frankie, Hannah and Will was busy reacting to something. You scrolled up in the chat and saw that Frankie had sent the comparison picture of him holding his old photo to the group from your phone.

“Frankie!”, you gasped, and he laughed beside you, reading the comments.

“Holy fuck Fish!😲😂” - Santi “Yeah… I guess Mouse is a good cook 🤣 ” - Hannah "Breaking news! Relationship weight gain is not a myth!” - Benny “MOUSE. WFT.” - Will

--------<3---------

Image drawn by @yahtiwakitakos

TAGLIST:

@theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @blackfemalenerd @toxicanonymity @southernbe @starkeydaviss @patti7dc

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #frankie morales #triple frontier #you ask beefro answers #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #chubby frankie rights !!!!!#you ask beefro answers #thot tank #friend of beefro #the catfish & the mouse one shot #the catfish & the mouse #the catfish & the mouse #🥩#beefro's bistro #i smell like beeeeeef

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nowhereisnearmyhome · 11 months ago

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The Cowboy by James Tate

source and transcript under the cut

Someone had spread an elaborate rumor about me, that I was in possession of an extraterrestrial being, and I thought I knew who it was. It was Roger Lawson. Roger was a practical joker of the worst sort, and up till now I had not been one of his victims, so I kind of knew my time had come. People parked in front of my house for hours and took pictures. I had to draw all my blinds and only went out when I had to. Then there was a barrage of questions. “What does he look like?” “What do you feed him?” “How did you capture him?” And I simple denied the presence of an extraterrestrial in my house. And, of course, this excited them all the more. The press showed up and started creeping around my yard. It got to be very irritating. More and more came and parked up and down the street. Roger was working overtime on this one. I had to do something. Finally, I made an announcement. I said, “The little fellow died peacefully in his sleep at 11:02 last night.” “Let us see the body,” they clamored. “He went up in smoke instantly,” I said. “I don’t believe you,” one of them said. “There is no body in the house or I would have buried it myself,” I said. About half of them got in their cars and drove off. The rest of them kept their vigil, but more solemnly now. I went out and bought some groceries. When I came back about an hour later another half of them had gone. When I went into the kitchen I nearly dropped the groceries. There was a nearly transparent fellow with large pink eyes standing about three feet tall. “Why did you tell them I was dead? That was a lie,” he said. “You speak English,” I said. “I listen to the radio. It wasn’t very hard to learn. Also we have television. We get all your channels. I like cowboys, especially John Ford movies. They’re the best,” he said. “What am I going to do with you?” I said. “Take me to meet a real cowboy. That would make me happy,” he said. “I don’t know any real cowboys, but maybe we could find one. But people will go crazy if they see you. We’d have press following us everywhere. It would be the story of a century,” I said. “I can be invisible. It’s not hard for me to do,” he said. “I’ll think about it. Wyoming or Montana would be our best bet, but they’re a long way from here,” I said. “Please, I won’t cause you any trouble,” he said. “It would take some planning,” I said. I put the groceries down and started putting them away. I tried not to think of the cosmic meaning of all this. Instead, I treated him like a smart little kid. “Do you have any sarsaparilla?” he said. “No, but I have some orange juice. It’s good for you,” I said. He drank it and made a face. “I’m going to get the maps out,” I said. “We’ll see how we could get there.” When I came back he was dancing on the kitchen table, a sort of ballet, but very sad. “I have the maps,” I said. “We won’t need them. I just received word. I’m going to die tonight. It’s really a joyous occasion, and I hope you’ll help me celebrate by watching The Magnificent Seven,” he said. I stood there with the maps in my hand. I felt an unbearable sadness come over me. “Why must you die?” I said. “Father decides these things. It is probably my reward for coming here safely and meeting you,” he said. “But I was going to take you to meet a real cowboy,” I said. “Let’s pretend you are my cowboy,” he said.

#poetry #james tate

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dangermousie · 5 months ago

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Finished my rewatch of ep 2 of City Hunter and it really still holds up.

I love that he sees her throw a man over her shoulder in the first two minutes of their acquaintance and he is definitely intrigued. Honestly, so much of this ep is him being so smitten and not even realizing he is.

I mean, the last shot is after she knocked him over for kissing her as a means to dump his source of information after the information dried up and giving her cash for the trouble of the kiss. (She stuck money back at him and said "for treatment." )

But then there was this earlier - him making out with his target while watching Nana the whole time. Badwronghot.

(And of course the very fact that he's sleeping with someone he doesn't want for info. He may not want to carry out undaddy's murder plan with murder but he's certainly been trained to do a lot of things that are objectively fucked up and to treat himself as an instrument.)

The thing that strikes me so much on rewatch is just how AWFUL undaddy is in his plan. It's one thing to take out people he thinks wronged him and his dead partner. It's another one to use a baby you stole and to fuck him up and train him into a killing machine who will then unknowingly kill his own father. I mean, this was genuinely chilling:

He is meeting the President who he does not know is his father but who he also does not know is his final target. Not to mention his half-sister is checking him out and it's just so wrong wrong wrooooong. It could have all gone way more horrifically wrong than it already did.

In retrospect, it's so clear how undaddy is manipulating the hell out of him, leading him on with the hope that after this is over they can live a normal life. Undaddy told him the name of only one target, and that's the slimiest, least sympathetic one and says he'll tell him the names of the others and why he wants him in the Blue House later - you know what that is? That's grooming. He's slowly and methodically grooming him into an assassination machine via baby steps and that is effing creepy as hell and my wish for undaddy to be eaten by snakes and I am only sad it took as long as it did for him to meet his demise.

Trust you? Great idea. NOT.

It kills me just how kind YS tries to be even with his insane upbringing - he paid for Nana's father surgery, he was kind to those kids, and he wants to take down the target without murder. Oh, young man, you are gonna go through hell and a half in this drama.

Also, I love how even this early on, he is so gone for her. He knows she's the girl whose picture he fixated on in hell jungle. And what better way to angst than in the shower? Man, I miss those glorious old school angsty kdrama shower scenes.

But I think my favorite sequence in this whole ep and the one that speaks volumes is what happens after he goes to her apartment (after carrying her four flights of stairs since she sprained her ankle.) It's an almost throwaway moment but it says so much. He sees all these markings on the wall and asks her what the weird numbers and notches are all for and she explains, as one would to a somewhat dim small child, that this is how her family would measure her height every month, throughout her childhood, until she was 17. I liked it so much because in those few seconds it established both the warm, loving, thoroughly normal childhood Nana had and what a lack of one he had - that he has to have something this basic explained to him. And then his little pleased grin when he figures out exactly how tall she is in her bare feet compared to him and where she'd come up to on his chest - he's pretty much unknowingly in love with her to bits and so learning little things like that about her make him happy.

The thing that I love so much is that Nana doesn't have a charmed life - her father is in a vegetative state, her mother died in the same accident that made her father that way, and bank was close to taking away everything for debt. But she's had love and warmth and a solid foundation and so she's sunshine - but it's a choice for her and an affirmation, it's not because she's only known sweetness and light.

The scene where she explains the stickers is a very quiet scene I adored - in a way she's an inverse mirror of him. She has a dead parent and one parent who's as good as dead, but she's a good sunny person and not a mess like he is because she was brought up properly. And eventually his being around her drags him into normalcy, which is helped by the fact that he doesn't feel any personal urgency in vengeance. Yeah, all these people killed his supposed father but it's abstract to him - he's never even met the man. He will get rid of them because undaddy basically brainwashed him into it, but he doesn't have an emotional stake in their deaths (even if he has one in the outcome - getting to find his mother and living a normal life, which undaddy dangles like a carrot). However, he has an emotional stake in people he knows - Nana being one of them but other people as well (you can see later, her character basically draws him into interacting with others on personal levels).

You watch him be empathetic and you watch him be teasing and dorky about the ramen and you realize that his demeanor is not just a disguise - it's someone he'd like to be and possibly would have been except for undaddy. And that around her he lets his guard down and allows himself to be childish.

#kdrama #city hunter #park min young #lee min ho

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ellieromanov · 1 year ago

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Vanilla, Pine, or cinnamon

Pairings: r x Natasha

Warnings: angst

Word count: 700

Summary: it’s been years since Natasha has made the sacrifice and memories only linger for so long before you start to forget.

I think I miss her more than I remember her. That terrifies me. I don't really remember what she looks like anymore... I know she had red hair and she had green eyes, but I don't remember the shape of her nose, or the color of her lips.

I don't remember what her laugh sounds like or the pitch of her voice, or you know... like the little phrases she would say. I can't remember what she smells like. I want to say vanilla but maybe she smelt more like pine or maybe cinnamon.

I kept all her clothes. I never wanted to wash them because I was afraid it would get rid of her smell so they would just sit in my closet. Sometimes I'd pull out one of her old sweaters and and I'd sleep with it on my pillow just so I could pretend like she was there.

Like it was just one of those gloomy days where we wouldn't get out a bed for ages because the comforter was just so warm and the mattress felt just right and the position of the pillows were perfect. And we'd watch old cheesy 90's movies all day long...

I don't do that anymore because her sweaters lost her sent from all the dust they've collected.

It feels like it's been an eternity since she was last here...

There was something my dad would always say to me and my siblings as kids and it went something like;

"you do not know time until you know how to dance. You don't know time until you know how to paint, compose music and have read Shakespeare. Once you know how to do those things only then can you complain about time."

I think about those words often. Since Nat has been gone I fill my days reading the tragedy's of Shakespeare, sitting at the piano, putting on my old ballet pointés, and most recently, painting.

I've been trying to remember her enough to put her on the canvas. I can't seem to get the correct shade of red for her hair, and I've had to repaint her her nose several times.

But I do remember how much Natasha loved the night sky. All the stars just seemed like magic to her. She also loved... daisies? Or were they tulips? I think they were daisies. So I've painted a field of daisies underneath the night sky with Natasha in the middle of the field.

But no matter how many pictures I have of her to use as a reference, they never captured what she really looked like. They never captured that gorgeous smile she had or the freckles on her nose, or the scars that littered her cheek or the depths of green in her eyes. These are all small things that I remember vaguely.

People don't often visit anymore. Clint and Laura stop by once every few months and Yelena once or twice a year maybe. I haven't heard much from anyone on the team since the funeral besides Peter. He's a good kid. Sends me a message once every few weeks to update me on he's life and he always asks how I'm doing. He keeps me up to date on the outside world.

I so often wish that I could go back to that day and trade places with her. I dream about it sometimes. They are the most vivid dreams I have. When I dream, I get to hear her voice again. But the longer I think about it the more I realize that it's better this way. Deep down, I know that. I know it's better. Because Natasha will never have to know what it's like to lose her other half, she will never have to experience the pain and grief and suffering that comes with losing me. She will never know what it's like to to forget me. And for that I am grateful.

So as I try to fall asleep tonight I just need to remind myself, it's better this way, and one day... one day I'll be with her again. But until that day i just have to accept the fact that the comforter is never warm anymore, the mattress is like a brick and the pillows are old and torn. I will try to remember her scent so I can go find it, try to make the house feel like home again with it and restore some of that comforter but I don't know if she smelt of vanilla, pine, or cinnamon .

#natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanov #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #angst #black widow #black widow angst #y/n #natasha x y/n #mcu x reader #mcu #mcu angst #marvel #marvel angst

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ohmotherwhereartthou-if · 6 months ago

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Sorta bringing this back from the past, but I just saw the MC scandalous painting ask and was laughing for like 20 mins, I really do hope it makes it in to the story😂😂

Buuut, I wanna ask, how would the RO react to their family members looking at the painting after they (accidentally) left it out

(For the ROs who live alone, maybe their and MC kid?)

Haha, I remember that one. Still one of my favorites!

I am also going to write this under the impression it's at the dating stage of the relationship so that it makes more sense.

Cassandra: Does her absolute best to hide the portrait from her dad, only issue is that her dad, being the military man he is, occasionally does routine inspections around the house to make sure everything is in order and nothing needs to be taken care of before it becomes a problem. This has her moving the portrait periodically throughout the house to avoid him coming across it during his inspections. She considered putting it in a lock box but he would probably ask her whats inside and she is a TERRIBLE liar.

So, when the day unfortunately comes and General Guerrero finds a wrapped up portrait of MC's half naked ass in a broom closet; he is so unamused it's not even remotely funny. Well, for Cass at least.

Because while this might come to your surprise Alejandro actually does have a sense of humor. And make no mistake, he finds MC's audacity and utter stupidity of sending this to HIS house, to HIS daughter sort of funny. He comforts Cass by casually asking why does she even find MC attractive when they look so scrawny in the portrait she hid in a closet. Girly is is embarrassed she can't even form a coherent sentence, she just gets super red and covers her face. He can't help but laugh, he finds her embarrassment, punishment enough for her keeping this thing in her house without telling him.

Can't say he or MC will be laughing next time they meet though.

Valeria: Well, we already know Mrs. Torres saw it.

Valeria is so embarrassed, for MC. It's not like she asked you to do something so stupid knowing full well that she is the youngest of 6 with 5 older brothers and that she still lives with them and her parents. Mrs. Torres is just like Valeria in the sense she can't keep shit to herself, although Valeria manages to keep her shut for all of 4 days which is a pretty decent record. Good thing Val already managed to hide it someplace secret only to her by the time her brothers found out about it. They pester her day and night to see it so they can roast MC next time they see them. (as if they weren't already, idk if I said this already but if you romance Val; her big brothers become YOUR big brothers). Her parents don't really care, her dad didn't appreciate it but trusts his sons will harass MC enough about it, just expects MC to not do it again.

Tomás: He legit has nobody that he would really give a fuck about in his family if they saw the portrait. He isn't embarrassed, he's proud. He would be SO happy if his mom saw it, would rub in how scandalous and just how much of a scoundrel he is with MC. Would get a real kick out of how much she would 'clutch her pearls' at him, literally and figuratively. Would get mad if his brothers saw it because he'd get jealous, probably would punch them or something.

Now if you guys had a kid and they saw it in the future, he would get bashful but tell them not to go poking around his things. No, they cannot ask why he had it hidden in a box under his side of the his bed.

Ludovica: Also has no family or anybody to discover it. In the future if she had kids and they found it, she would be mortified. Begs them to forgive her for not hiding it well enough and to forget they saw it. She is unamused when she overhears her staff gossiping about the portrait and how one maid long ago had mentioned it existing and how literally nobody had believed her. Chokes on her spit when her kids ask MC point blank why they were barely wearing any clothes in the picture and if they were cold.

Aurelio: ALSO has no family to uncover it, (omg look at all of these pathetic little orphans, having parents must be a rarity in this world ig).

So, when his kids one day are being a little too nosy in his private study and see his half naked portrait of a young MC hanging right beside his desk labeled "Motivation - 1890" they obviously do the logical thing of screaming for their dad to come to his study. When he does wondering if they got hurt or something they ask him right away why tf he has such a picture displayed there and why is it labeled.

He had responds with something like, "Well, can you blame me for wanting to be productive? Knowing that is but a humble glimpse at what will be my reward when I finish my work, does wonders for my morale. And be grateful your mom/dad looked so great back then or you might not even be here." (He is saying that to tease them, MC still looks great in their older age and he would love them even if they weren't attractive.)

Also adds, "Oh, and it's labeled because that's that years edition of 'motivation'. I made sure I got one every start of the year to keep me honest. New year, new happy little wine drinker me! What? Did you want to see the rest? Or maybe the ones I gave mom/dad? Fair warning, I was wearing even LESS than they are in this picture."

His children then proceed to run out of his study screaming and gagging, he laughs knowing that this will keep them out of his study from now on.

Elio: Okay sort of funny because I actually said in one specific post somewhere Elio actually personally knows Aurelio and I actually think the only person close enough to discover it would be Aurelio. Elio would surprising be shocked if Aurelio found it because he made sure it was well hidden in the attic to avoid MC ever finding out he did actually have it.

He drinks tea and admires it from time to time when MC is away for too long. If Aurelio ever found it Elio would actually be frantic shooing him out of the house and swearing that he will never let him anywhere near MC ever again. Because he knows Aurelio is a charmer and he deep down would feel a little insecure if after he has fallen in love, MC got close to Aurelio and fears he would take them away from him. Even though Aurelio would never do that to him, he can't shake the insecurity and does everything he can to hide it.

Aurelio would want to tease Elio about it but knows it would be a very touchy subject so he shuts up, instead he tease MC next time they have a moment without Elio there. Which might be in a few months when Elio calms a bit and lets his guard down thinking Aurelio might have forgotten or dropped it completely.

---

Thanks for letting me revisit and continue this funny scenario! 💙

#omwat #ask #ludovica #elio #aurelio #tomas #cassandra #valeria

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