#anywho. time to check the tree
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good morning all. merry christmas. i slept not the best but whatever
#marzi speaks#kept waking up throughout the night n had trouble falling asleep#thank you steroids. for the insomnia#anywho. time to check the tree#see if i can look at it yet
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more snippet posting from rough drafts that I'm working on-- this one is the second chapter of the Fuyu x Iris concubine fic that low key might be put on hold/the back burner due to another, similar fic, BUT IDK I'M REALLY ENJOYING WRITING IT
anywho, under cut
He blinked the sleep from his eyes as he felt himself relax again into the plush of his new bed. He forgot how nice it was to sleep in something other than a cage. His body never felt so grateful…
He wondered, as he smelled the floral scent of the conditioner in his freshly washed and treated hair, how terrible of a faux pas it would be for him to sleep in?
‘No,’ he thought as he sat up and stretched, yawning the deepest yawn he had let out in years, ‘curiosity is getting the better of me. I should really check out the morning routine of this new home.’
As he slinked out of bed, he noticed some more fresh clothes as well as a few baked goods and a teapot sitting on the table of his room. There was also a note.
‘Dear Mr. Fox– feel free to join us for breakfast. Or not! You can eat in your room, but your company on the patio would be welcomed. -Iris’
Iris…
Hm… he supposes he never did never learn the name of his new master. And he also realized looking over this note– she never learned his either.
This new master…
Looking at this spacious room he’s been given, at the luxurious bed he spent the night in, at the clothes and food that was left out for him who knows how early in the morning— she almost feels more like a savior at this point…
A savior who did not know his name.
In a small rush of wounded pride and mannered indignity, he felt like his old self again.
This would not do! He WOULD join them for breakfast! And she SHALL learn of whom she has taken into her court! If she is to have the great Fuyu of the Winter Clan as her prized concubine (in name only), then she WILL know it! Proudly! AND KNOW IT WELL!
And with that thought, Fuyu stormed out of his room with a dramatic flair and marched his way down the hall.
He carried on like this for several stretches of hallway, trekking to and fro, very unsure of where exactly he was meant to be storming off to. After several minutes of this haughty pacing about, his frustration and embarrassment got the better of him, and he halted in place as he hollered,
“WHERE IS THE DAMN PATIO?!”
Then he heard a ‘ahem’ from behind him. He turned, face red with embarrassment and a touch of agitation, to see a guard standing up right at a doorway. He had been so still a moment ago, Fuyu hadn’t even noticed him. The guard gave him a sympathetic look, and pointed out the window to a table seated in the shade of a large tree out back, full of people enjoying a peaceful looking breakfast in the morning air.
“Thank you…” he huffed as he resumed his storming, though this time in a direction he was actually sure of.
#bear text#blush blush game#blush blush#bear talks#bb game#sad panda studios#kitsune bundle#fuyu#Iris
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His name? Well, actually their names. Anyways I had this really fun idea and my own take on the “What would happen if you tried to take Merlin’s magic away” or whatever yknow. Well this is one of my fun takes. I thought it’d be very funny if it kinda split Merlin from his magic and kinda split his personality into two different people. Yknow like that one Phineas and Fred eps where Candice splits into two and one wants to bust the boys and the other is obsessed with Jeremy. Essentially that. Or like any classic cartoon troupe like that.
Emrys is the embodiment of the word “Stressed”, Merlin is cluelessly fearless. Emrys is an excellent liar, Merlin wouldn’t be able to lie if his life depended on it(it does). Emrys is rather agile, Merlin is so clumsy and accident prone he may get himself killed just by walking around. Both still have the sass, but Emrys’ is better timed with his to make them hit the hardest and Merlin only speaks in insults.
Anywho, the concept is that Merlin goes back to the first instance he died, which I decided he’s fallen out of a tree one night while sneaking out to play with Will. And one of the only way Merlin and Emrys become one again is if Merlin goes through all of the times he died. Luckily it doesn’t switch until Merlin fully heals from the last death, and Merlin sustained quite a few injuries that take some time to heal from his first. So before he goes to his next death, the poisoned chaise, Emrys has to find the flower, and then will hunt to find The Cup of Life. That’s because some of his deaths are impossible to cure, and with The Cup of Life, Emrys could speed up the process. But having to do all of that all at the same time as, making sure Merlin doesn’t get himself killed, protecting Arthur, and having to deal with a mini Dragon who just wants to play with her lord. All while Morgana is trying to find out where her dragon has gone off to.
Also Emry’s outfit is fully inspired by an outfit @/druid-boy-punk drew Merlin in check out their stuff it’s really good.
#snirtsnirkarts#merlin fanart#bbc merlin#merlin#merlin emrys#bbc emrys#emrys#split au#aithusa#kilgharrah#I don’t actually think there are a lot of Merlin tags#I’m so used to other fandoms with so many fucking tags#anywho#merlin au#fuck destiny never met her#also yes I would be giving Morgana a redemption arc#I like giving her a little evil time#as a treat
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Hi! I know you're probably busy rn with collage and what not and I totally understand if you can't expand on this but either way, god I just need to rant about this thought.
So I just saw this tik tok where this girl was like "when I'm riding passenger princess and we're getting a little to close to the car in front of us" and the audio was like "the question is when are you gonna START stopping?"
And one of the comments said she wasn't a passenger princess she was a anxious passenger patroller and all that had me thinking of was Stu and reader, like I don't know about everyone else but i canon whole heartily Stu is a great driver who drives recklessly because 1)he knows what he's doing and 2) he thinks the shits funny
And I believe he'd do it especially to reader when he gets in those weird moods when he doesn't know how to feel about the reader/doesn't know how to handle it, and it kinda just serfaces in this weird aggression . Idk it could be like a fight-ish thing and she's telling him to slow down and he's being a dick about and in the end he weasels his way back into her good graces because she won't speak to him first if he's wrong and he doesn't like going to long with out talking to her
I don't know what up with my mind and how it wonders, anywho hope you have a good day/night :)
a/n for sure busy with school and actually having a social life for once and writing but always always always have time for billy and/or stu (especially since i'm kind of stuck on final girl rn😭)
YOU ARE SO RIGHT,, like i don't think he'd drive recklessly to scare reader with the intention of putting reader or himself in a dangerous situation,, but he'd for sure find it funny or see it as a way to "humble" reader a bit, like if Stu felt like the reader was acting too detached or into someone else he's suddenly speeding a little more just so that reader has to grip his arm and squeeze his hand
anyway i've been missing them and super happy to have a lower stakes way to talk about them,, also this turned out a little different and fluffier than i expected it to be lol
----
Something about the commercial feels different in the fall. Cliche radio hits are easier during the summer, sometimes even fun. But during autumn, with leaves melting off trees in hues of red and orange and the looming end of the year nostalgia, the synthetic quality is harder to look past.
That's why your hand instinctually gravitates to the radio, switching the station without a second thought.
Stu sighs, a quick, over exaggerated puff of air. "I liked that one."
You glance in his direction, glaring, "You were barely listening."
Even though you're mainly defending yourself out of habit, you know it's true. Stu's pretty open about what he likes, even when he doesn't realize it. Usually, when he likes a song he'll tap his fingers against the steering wheel. If he really likes something, he'll even get into it in a way that definitely lessens his ability to control the car.
"I was, too," he hums, half pouting.
You roll your eyes before looking back out the window. The world is moving past you in a vague blur. So quick a seed of unease plants itself in your stomach. You wouldn't exactly call it worry, you've been hanging with Stu and getting him to drive you around too long for his casual take on driving to overly phase you. With the exception of him doing something particularly risky like throwing himself into another lane after barely checking or taking too sharp of a left turn because of yellow light.
Sometimes you comment on it, equal parts teasing and annoyed. But usually, it's easier to just accept it. Stu's so comfortable with the way he drives that comments only amuse him. The one time you glared at him and asked him to slow down, he had a made a game of switching lanes at the last possible second.
"You liked that Spice Girls song more."
Stu openly snaps his head away from the road to glare at you. "Did not, you're the one that likes that saturated pop stuff."
"I said I liked one song one time."
He sighs, finally turning back to face the windshield. "Sure..." He tugs on the last syllable, dragging it out to make his disbelief clear. "You wanna stop for ice cream?"
It's not exactly late, but later than you planned on staying out. Time seems to slip away too quickly when you and your usual group are together and this afternoon's movie that ended in a hangout at the mall had eaten even more time than expected. There was something extra entertaining about wandering between stores and only occasionally actually looking at clothes.
You do have homework and it is Sunday and you told your mom you'd be back around 6:00 probably and it's now almost 7:00. But ice cream does sound nice and there will only be so many evenings in your life that feel this warm and lighthearted.
"I have some homework," you mumble in one final attempt to convince yourself, "But, yeah, I could go for ice cream."
Stu nods, tapping his pointer finger against the wheel. "We'll be fast."
The yellow light doesn't affect his speed as he turns left. Your fingers press into the side of your seat. Fast. No kidding.
"You okay there, babe?" Okay, there's no way your expression was bad enough to warrant a question (especially when he should be looking at the road). He has to be baiting you. "You're looking a little green."
You force your hand to relax, "Mhm." And it is fine. At the very least, fine enough because Stu always drives like this. "Used to you driving like you're on the run."
"You're just sensitive."
The comment is more dismissive than teasing and for whatever reason, you like it less than when he makes fun of you. At least his bullying is coated in a distinct type of affection that only Stu can get away with.
You briefly consider starting one of your 'am not, are too' fights. You're definitely not above it, especially when you two are alone and no one's around to call you out for being overly childish. But if he's going to be moody over the smallest comment...
He switches lanes--without using his blinker--with a sharp turn of the wheel. "If it's that bad, you could get rides from someone else."
The comment is hard and too casual to be a threat, but still mean. It makes your stomach drop more than the way Stu maneuvers the car. You didn't say he was that bad of a driver and you definitely didn't say anything about not going out with him anymore.
There are a lot of good things about getting Stu to drive you around. You like being in his space and the music that's more often than not just a little too loud and the passenger seat that feels more like your seat. You also like the unplanned for car moments, the accidental gossip sessions in driveways and parking lots. It's part of the reason you're glad you don't have a license yet...it's an excuse to just be around him.
"I didn't--"
"Bet Randy would put up with your backseat driving." The car speeds up slightly. "He'd slow down if you gave him that look."
You frown, ruining any chance you have at arguing that that you don't have a face. You don't get what his issue is, especially with bringing up Randy. He's been making on and off comments since the movie you all watched ended.
You don't fully get it, but you guess you get Stu being a little annoyed. Randy and you had been a little obnoxious, laughing too hard at jump scares and flinching too dramatically at moments that weren't that bad. But it's not like you two were terrible. Definitely not bad enough to warrant this passive aggression.
"I don't want to drive around with Randy, I want to drive around with you." You're full on pouting and you don't even care.
Stu sighs, eyes avoiding yours in the rearview mirror. An uncomfortable warmth settles against his face. How do you always manage to do that? From anyone else, he'd hate it, but you're never trying to get anything out of it. Things like that are just offhanded comments to you. No ulterior motives. You don't even think twice about it.
"So now it's not enough enough to be driven around by anyone?"
You shrug, relaxing into your seat. "I'm spoiled."
His throat feels dry, a wave of uncomfortable fondness hitting him with no warning. He knows there's some joke he should make about how you're shameless about it, too. But he's too caught up on the amount of feeling tightening his chest.
He turns into parking lot of your usual drive-in ice cream spot.
"You're enabled."
You turn your head, smiling, "And you're the enabler."
Stu grins, moving a hand to squeeze your shoulder. "I'll enable you any time, babe."
You roll your eyes, but don't make any move to shake him off. "Enable me a--"
"Mint chocolate chip in a waffle--not sugar--cone." He recites your usual order without a second thought.
You nod once in approval. "This is why you're my favorite."
"I'm telling Billy you said that."
Scratching the back of your arm, you glare. Stu's always trying to start a fight with that. "Do not start."
He grins teasingly, "Start what?"
You glare, hoping that the look is threatening enough to make him promise to leave your comment behind. You've known Stu long enough to know that he'd happily take a you're my favorite and save it until he could use it as some sort of ammunition, exaggerating it to make sure it really hits. All that does is make him smile more. Before you can say anything else about it, Stu rolls down the window and orders.
When you get to the window, you try to pay for your own, but that ends as it usually does. He never lets you pay for anything, and when you threaten to leave cash in his car, he threatens to buy you even more things. Try it and on Monday I'm picking you up with coffee and a muffin and that new CD you were talking about. ...A lot of the times, the suggestion makes you want to stop for coffee and muffins before school anyway, so you end up getting it with him anyway.
You give in early this time, thanking him for the ice cream as he finds an empty spot to park in. You smile to yourself. Parked car time with Stu is something you enjoy a lot more than you'd ever admit. The two of you have a silent understanding that in these moments you can say things you wouldn't usually be able to say out loud. Nothing terribly cruel, just a little snarky. The kind of comments that'd get you in trouble in front of the wrong people.
Usually, you have to take the lead at first because Stu likes to act like he's too good for gossip, but once he gets started, he's worse than you.
You're still debating which of the two major topics--rumors you've heard about Susan Welch being pregnant and the weird way Madison Meyer has been acting--to bring up first when Stu breaks the silence. "You uh--" Stu cuts himself off. "You know I wouldn't--I wouldn't do anything that'd hurt you like that."
Weirdly deep comment to hear while you're holding an ice cream cone. "...Are you trying to convince me you didn't poison my ice cream?" That strange seriousness of his doesn't go away. You frown. "Yeah, come on, of course I know that."
He nods, "Yeah, just--" Stu won't look at you. "I wouldn't, and just--the car thing--"
"Stu." You've made those kinds of comments before, and it's never made him react like this. "I know that." You nudge his forearm gently. "I didn't mean it like."" He doesn't cheer up. "Seriously, if I thought you were trying to reverse-vehicular-manslaughter me, I wouldn't get in the car."
At that, he lets out a breath that's definitely trying not to be a laugh. "Would that be reverse-vehicular-manslaughter?"
"I don't know," you hum casually, pausing to eat some of your ice cream, "You're the one trying to do it." Stu glares; you grin. "Kidding." You bite off the top edge of your cone. "You know I love driving around with you--we listen to music, we talk, we gossip--"
"I don't gossip, you gossip and I let you."
You shake your head, not bringing up the fact that he always has more stuff worth saying than you do and he's snarkier than anyone would ever guess. "Then I guess I won't tell you what's up with Susan Welch."
To be fully honest, Stu couldn't care less about Susan Welch, but he likes the way you react to these sort of things. Your reactions to his side comments might be his favorite part of these moments. "She's...in our english class right?"
"Mhm," you hum, trying to downplay your excitement, "Remember how she had to leave class early the other day--like, practically ran out of the room to throw up?" You don't wait for him to respond, "That was on square pizza day--which is the day that's least likely to make someone throw up." You pause for the sake of your ice cream. "And Lucy Thompson swears Susan randomly stopped drinking, which if you've met her, makes no sense. So, Lucy thinks Susan might be..." You trail off before vaguely gesture to your stomach.
Stu's eyes narrow as he pretends to really think about what you've just said. "I don't know if that's enough to mean she's knocked up."
You shake your head once, "Lucy also said she's never in cheer practice anymore, and she started wearing baggy clothes." You sit up a little straighter, "And Missy Danes swears her older sister's friend saw Susan buying a pregnancy test in a grocery store two towns over. I know it's not proof, but it's definitely worth thinking about."
He widens his eyes, more for your sake than anything else, "Definitely." He pushes his spoon into his melting ice cream. "If she is pregnant, she's totally screwed because Ben Johnson was just bragging about hooking up with her."
Your mouth falls open in pretend shock, "No way." You lean against the center console. "You got oreo again, right?"
Stu knows exactly what that question means, "Want some?"
Your eyebrows draw together as you shake your head. "No, I'm--"
"We could trade for a little."
Another one of your traditions, each person's ice cream slowly becoming everyone's. "Another reason why you're my favorite."
"Oh, now you're begging me to tell Billy."
You dip the spoon into ice cream, digging for a particularly large oreo crumb. "I will blame it on the ice cream."
#scream x reader#final girl fic#scream 1966#scream imagine#scream#stu macher x reader#stu macher#ghostface#ghostface x reader
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Licorice Ice Cream | Little_Annie
—--
It was just any other Saturday afternoon in the Forest Hills Trailer Park. Dogs barking, kids screaming, some fat drunk guy laid out on his lawn in nothing but suspiciously stained gitch. It was the furthest thing from nice, but it was familiar.
As was the absolutely sweltering trailer that surrounded Eddie as he laid in a puddle of his own sweat on the kitchen floor. It was the coldest surface he could find, what with the AC dead and any fan in the tin can he called home busted.
Much like the drunk laying on his lawn across the dirt road, Eddie was in his gitch, though, his were perfectly clean, thank you very much. Maybe just a wee bit sweaty is all.
Okay. Ick.
Anyways, gist of the story is: It's summer in Indiana and it's fucking hot.
And Eddie's van is broken down because of course it is, so he can't go anywhere that actually has AC until Wayne gets home and it's not like he's fucking going outside to 'catch a nice breeze' in the meantime. No thank you.
So yeah, Uncle Wayne needs to get home.
Which is in hmmm, t-minus 34 minutes and 26 seconds. You know, according to Eddie's watch, because yes, he's counting down the seconds until he can get out of Satan's literal asshole.
Fuck this Indiana heat, man.
Eddie didn't hate it as much when he was a kid; running through the sprinklers, climbing enormous trees, jumping into the algae ridden quarry, but now?
Now, he despises it. He loathes it.
He'd rather saw off his own dick and throw it to the Owlbear's than suffer another day sweating his nonexistent tits off in this trailer.
But
That's ever so slightly fucked up and really, Eddie loves his dick and could never imagine his life without it. He appreciates it. All however many inches of it. Even though some days it likes to say a 'hello' at some very inopportune times.
Like that time Billy Hargrove grabbed the collar of his shirt and slammed him against the lockers.
Or you know literally anytime he actually attended gym class.
Or that one mortifying time he had to get something from Jeff's locker, only to learn Steve Harrington's was directly below it and apparently the man had no concept of personal space. Just said a shy 'scuse me' and dropped to his knees, only to look up at Eddie with pig pretty puppy dog eyes and have the damn audacity to look like that. Fuck. Yeah, Eddie Jr. liked that very much.
Anywho.
He's here, pale, sweaty skin sticking to the lukewarm linoleum and toast crumbs on the kitchen floor, refusing to think about the fact that his Uncle's nasty ass old man feet slap across it every morning when he makes breakfast.
Eddie shudders at the mere thought he was trying to avoid.
Then checks his watch.
32:16 remains
Jesus fuck.
Well, maybe while he's here he can do something productive, like….like count what he can see of his Uncle's coffee mug collection?
Eddie's eyes blur as he wipes sweat from his brow and tries to focus on the ceramics lining the wall across from him.
'CAUTION, be sure BRAIN is engaged before putting MOUTH in gear'
'I'd rather be having a beer!'
'Wyoming. Less people. Less Problems."
'Have a nice poop'
'#1 Dad'
'Life's like a stripper, you can ……
—
Eddie swears he blacked out for a minute because, the next time he opens his eyes, it's to a very amused Uncle Wayne standing above him and a dusty steel toed boot nudging him in the ribs.
Wayne smiles down at him, all sweet with his tobacco stained teeth while he asks, "Wanna go to the mall kid?"
And well, let's just say, if Eddie could move that fast regularly, maybe he wouldn't have had so many 'heart to hearts' with Chief James Hopper over the years about his 'troubled youth' and how it led to his 'drug dealing business.'
Wayne hardly has a chance to suck in a breath after his question before Eddie's barreling down the hall to his room for a change of non-sweaty gitch and clothes.
It's when Eddie's pulling on a pair of black cutoffs that he hears Wayne yell down the hall, "Don't forget pit stick boy! If you've any chance with the men in this town, you least should try not smellin' like Hank's ass!"
Hank being the nearly naked fucker passed out drunk on his lawn across the way.
Eddie can hear Wayne snickering to himself in his old man huff of air way from down the hall as he calls back a laughing, "Fuck you old man!"
Receiving a "Love ya too Ed!" in response.
—
Not twenty minutes later and Eddie finds himself sighing in relief as he enters Starcourt mall. The air's frigid, his skin pricking delightfully into goose flesh with every nonsensical stride he takes.
He has nowhere in mind, purely wandering this cesspool of forced conformity and capitalism for the pure enjoyment of free air conditioning.
Soon enough Wayne finds himself a spot nearest the fountain, a screaming child to his left and a bitchy mother to his right. Though he seems none the wiser as he basks in the delightfulness of cool air around him, tipping his hat low and crossing his hands over his stomach, assuming his position for an apparent public nap.
Crazy old fucker.
Although capitalism is the actual devil and forced conformity is its ugly brother, Eddie can't help but feel the pull in his bones to at least check out the art supply shop.
Sue him. He wants to get more minis to paint for his upcoming campaign.
So that's how Eddie spends his time in the mall. Staring at tiny ceramic figurines, trying to come up with ways he can carve them down or add to them with modelling clay to make them further appear as NPCs from his rapidly building campaign.
Well and if he flirts with the guy behind the counter because he's giving off serious vibes, sue him twice.
It sure didn’t seem like Mr. Blue Eyes With A Pink Hanky in His Left Pocket, minded all that much.
All fluttery lashes and rosie cheeks.
—
The mall's twenty minutes from closing when Eddie goes searching for Wayne.
You'd think it'd be easy to find a 5'11, grumpy looking, old white man wearing blue jeans and a grey t-shirt in an Indiana mall.
Hah.
Yeah only half the population of said mall.
Much to not Eddie's surprise, Wayne had left his original post, probably in search of food, leaving a much rounder middle aged man to take his previous position.
Though they weren't technically father and son, Eddie can see a lot of himself in Wayne. Especially the constantly hungry and always needing to be moving aside from a fifteen minute power nap side of himself.
So, in order to find Wayne, Eddie just thinks of where his 56 year old self would have wandered off to. Food, being the most likely contender.
There's a steak house on the opposite end of the mall where Wayne could have possibly gone for a beer.
A pizza place where Eddie knows they serve Wayne's favourite pie by the slice daily.
A Diner with arguably the second best milkshakes in town, the first being Benny's on highway 6.
And finally, Scoops Ahoy, the most likely of the candidates.
If Eddie were a 56 year old, grumpy fucker, wearing blue jeans and a grey t-shirt, who just got off a 12 hour shift, is sweating his balls off, brought his pain in the ass nephew-son to the mall and just woke up from a fountain-side nap, yeah, he'd probably think about being balls deep in some strawberry ice cream too.
To Scoops Ahoy it is!
Trying not to trip on the ample amount of crotch goblins stomping through the mall, Eddie eventually makes his way to the ice cream shop. Seeing Wayne's salt and pepper hair through the front window amongst many other heads, Eddie opts to grab a seat outside due to the frankly sickening amount of patrons inside.
Not five minutes later does Eddie hear a playful shout of his name come from inside. His head snaps up to see Wayne tapping the glass that'd been facing Eddie's back a second ago. There's a calloused finger waving Eddie in as Wayne continues to speak to him through the glass, "I'm at the till kid, ya want anything?"
Um. Yeah. Does a Wererat shit in subterranean tunnel complexes beneath cities?
(The answer is yes. According to the Dungeons & Dragons 1st Edition Monster Manual.)
When Eddie pops his head into the shop it's not nearly as busy as it was a few minutes ago, most patrons probably grabbing a cone and dipping out before the mall closes.
But, to Eddie's surprise, as he reaches the counter, popping over Wayne's shoulder to take a peek at the menu, he sees the most glorious thing to grace this God forsaken planet.
To say Eddie's heart falls out of his ass in that moment is an understatement.
You see, they haven't been to the mall yet this summer, money's been tight, the weather hasn't been unbearable and they have more important things to spend their cash on.
But today, today is a different story. Eddie's sure he would have died of heat exhaustion had he stayed in that damn trailer any longer and both he and Wayne have been working extra shifts to round up some extra coin.
Coin, that they can spend on ice cream.
Coin, that along with Eddie's heart and jaw hit the floor at the site of Steve fucking Harrington in a sailors costume.
Because you see, if it wasn't for today Eddie would have never had the chance to see this. All five foot, eleven inches of pure American standing like a clip out of Playgirl in probably the sluttiest shorts Eddie has ever seen.
Not to mention the tight ass and chiselled thighs to boot.
Eddie's never believed in God, but after today, you might just find him worshipping at the altar or more likely confessing to father about the things Steve Harrington's bare legs are making him feel.
He's gobsmacked. Absolutely flabbergasted. Downright thunderstruck.
And he's definitely not going to go into detail about where his mind has wandered to in the moments he's begun to drool down his chin and hear "I Want to Know What Love Is" by Foreigner play in the background of his preoccupied pea brain.
"Ed."
"Son"
Oh shit.
"Huh?" He gulps, wiping his chin with the bottom half of his copped tank, eyes trying to refocus on the menu and not the Adonis standing with his gams out mere feet away.
"Steve here was asking if you wanted anything."
Eddie grits his teeth and blurts the first thing his eyes land on, "Licorice."
"Cup or cone?" Steve asks sweetly like Eddie's not having to fight off a stiffy by repeating 'dead puppies, Vietnam War, Wayne's had sex before,' like an anti public boner mantra.
"He'll have a cone." Wayne answers for him while crouching to pick up the change Eddie had dropped earlier, pinching his nephew's pale ankle in the process in hopes of bringing him back to life.
"Yep." Eddie agrees dumbly, voice nearly cracking with nerves.
And then for a moment it's definitely worse because fucking Steve 'Ass Sculpted by Michelangelo' Harrington turns around and bends over. Eddie's surprised he doesn't have a coronary. Or his eyes bulge out of his skull. Or he just like, fucking, fuck, he doesn't know, spontaneously combusts or some shit.
What the fuck is life right now?
Then he hears that old man huff of a laugh off to his left. Uncle Wayne.
Eddie's neck nearly breaks at the speed he turns his head to meet the sly smirk of his old man. He's never stared daggers so intensely into Wayne's soul as he is now.
All fire and brimstone and death and 'Jesus christ shut up old man.'
But Wayne continues to huff like the bastard he is.
Fucker.
But like, Eddie still loves him and is eternally grateful for everything the man has done and sacrificed for him over the years, even as he flips him off while the man continues to laugh.
Then there's Steve's buttery smooth voice that breaks him out of his death stare, "Will that be everything?"
Eddie just stares as his eyes finally meet Steve's, or well, actually his lips, but close enough.
God they look good, pink and plush, kissable, fuckable, come-on-able. Oof, Jesus he needs to get out of here.
Eddie's dick twitches behind his denim at the thought and before he can even grab his ice cream, he's fucking hightailing it out of there like a weirdo and squeaking out a pathetic excuse of a "thanks."
A whole minute later Wayne finds Eddie sitting on a bench out of view from the ice cream shop windows, pouting, lip out, brows furrowed and arms crossed. He joins him with a shit eating grin as he chuckles, "The Harrington boy huh?"
"No." Eddie answers defensively and rather quickly, not bothering to spare Wayne a glace.
It's quiet for a moment, then Eddie hears Wayne from beside him, "Didn't know you liked Licorice."
Eddie huffs, taking the cone from Wayne's grasp with a grumbled, "I don't."
#eddie munson#steve x eddie#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#steddie fanfiction#steve harrington#steddie fandom#steddie#eddie x steve#stevexeddie#steddie headcanon#steddie fic#steddie fic rec
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how everyone met/reacted to Liminal Pt 2, electric boogaloo! (The Star Sanses.)
Ink; at some point he was fighting Error, who was… much more focused on the trees than the actual fight. Like… to the point where Ink stopped to ask what was going on. Error’s paranoia had skyrocketed after his first encounter with Liminal, which Liminal took advantage of pretty quickly. Error kept point out the ���freakin Nightmare-Human’, but Ink couldn’t spot it. That is, until Liminal popped up behind them and tapped them on the shoulder. Error was out of there immediately. Liminal did this creepy doll-giggle, waved at Ink, and left. Ink… didn’t know how to take that interaction, but at least it stopped Error from destroying an AU, so…
Dream; he felt something was off when Aliza ate the apple, like… sort of like when Nightmare changed, but much fainter, and more focused… at the time he assumed Nightmare had learned a new battle move or something. It wasn’t until Cross left the Bad Sanses that he realized what was actually happening. See, Liminal was supposed to track Cross down, and at the time, Cross was with Dream. Dream could sense her presence, but only barely, because Cross was acting all spooked and it was interfering with the emotions dream could pick up. He’s never officially met Liminal, but he does know that the weird feeling he had gotten a while ago was the creation of another Nightmare variant. (Idk what to call them so this is what I’m doing.)
Blueberry; he was in his home AU, practicing in the woods. Liminal had taken interest and started watching him for a while. Blue couldn’t shake the feeling that someone else was there, and quickly spotted her. She ducked behind a tree, but Blue, being Blue, was not nearly as spooked as he probably should have been. Yes, he knew to be cautious, and that this thing was probably related to Nightmare, but… she hadn’t DONE anything yet, so…. Anywho, he just went back to training, with an occasional glance over his shoulder to check if the ‘goopy girl’ was still there. He even started practicing some of his ‘special moves’ as a way to sort of impress her. This was the first fan he’s ever had, even if they WERE very shy and also probably related to the Bad Sanses.
more mixed emotions than anything. Which… Liminal happens to thrive on. They have no reason to go after her, and probably won’t, but she’s still there and doing things.
#horrortale aliza#undertale#oc#underverse#dreamtale nightmare#nightmare sans#error sans#horrortale#dream sans#swap sans#underswap sans#blue sans#ink sans#undertale au#liminal
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trick or treat!!
Hello hello, thank you for waiting for me to open the door for... *checks watch* a full day, for that, you get a treat <3
I realized that writing a first draft can literally be just a dialogue exchange...
Anywho, here's Kamari and faer best friend Ankh (I need a better name... it just means 'eye') - who was one of the only condemned fallen fairy to beat the High Protector (Kamari) during a Battle of the Fates (it doesn't make much sense, does it?)
(Kamari is very nice and doesn't like to oppose others if fae doesn't have to, for it wastes time when fae needs to focus on securing a future for faerself. Whereas Ankh wants revenge on the system that wronged faer.)
-----
"They'll never change their minds Ankh. The only way to save them is to convince the elders that they've won."
"You're not seriously going to let them-"
"They've rid of the fallen fairies, all of them... I can mess up the fights,, then they've finished the fallen fairies, once and for all."
"But the condemned will try to kill you... that risk is too great."
"... Awww. You wish for my well-being. That means a lot to me <3"
Ankh rolled faer eyes. "Someone please explain how the freaking High Protector can be this positive?"
----
A - "We can use the tree-less fairy"
K- "Anuli?"
A- "Yes. That thing."
K- "Anuli's not a thing, Ankh."
A - "It doesn't have a tree, Kamari. We're tree fairies... that one isn't even a dryad."
K - "... I don't see why that makes faer a 'thing'"
A - "This discussion is unnecessary but I'm making an exception because you're socially isolated and have no friends."
K - "Aren't you my friend?"
A - "...By the stars Kamari..... you need nicer friends."
K - "But you are nice <3"
A - " I feel wronged with that word and myself in the same breath."
K - "Nice?"
A - "Yes, that vile, vile word."
*Kamari laughs*
--------
A - "Kamari, please, hear me out. This could free you, free all of us, no one would have to suffer again."
K - "Anuli is not a thing. Fae is not a fallen fairy... and I won't hear any other opinions."
A - "But if you had lived in the forest, you would've-"
K - "I don't want to hear it."
Ankh growled. "Do you even know what happens to fairies when their tree dies? Do you know what that thing is?"
"No, but I'll leave you until you calm down then...."
"No, you need to hear this. When a dryad's tree dies, they head to pixies as a last resort. They don't- they aren't right in the head, Kamari. They are the reason fallen fairies exist."
"Didn't we agree that fallen fairies are innocent?"
"The ones that are left? Yes."
".... Ankh.... you're being a hypocrite."
"Oh please! I'm trying to help you! This could be our chance! If they think the last root of all evil is ruined, the last original fallen fairy-"
"Anuli is not a fallen fairy."
"And what proof do you have of that, oh great High Protector?"
"Because... Anuli? Fae- fae's my youngling."
".... You can't be serious."
"Anuli's kind and smart and wonderou-"
"Of Couse you are. Kamari, High Protector and Guardian of Fallen Fairies, has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Really emphasizes the violence associated with it."
"What are you- Ankh... listen to yourself, please? I don't want to argue anymore, okay?"
"And you think I do?! Despite... all this, I don't want you to get killed. Which you seem to have your mind set on doing... having that thing attached to your name is irredeemable!"
-------
"You off- You're battling Anuli with me, if fae's condemned?"
"Yes."
"....and the elders let you do that?"
"Quite readily actually. They think having a spectacle of the ambassadors' might l be beneficial.... it may also be a better show."
Kamari felt sick. ---
Yee, so they're enemies to friends to enemies and Anuli gets to go on a whole saga about the *friendship of magic turned tragic* and so I had a lot of fun with these. Bonus - it also explains a lot of Kamari's actions when fae tries to save Anuli, because the whole time Kamari is trying to get Anuli to prove to the world that fae has a tree and that fae isn't a fallen fairy, so now Kamari has a specific motivation for that... because fae wants to prove Ankh wrong.
Also wrote some fluff about Kamari trying to save Anuli from the cold (because I doubt a fiddle leaf fig would survive it) and it's great because Kamari is in a stupor (magnolias get half-asleep in the winter) and fae's still trying to check to see if Anuli's okay, meanwhile Anuli is making this into an overdramatic story in faer head, and fae thinks that Kamari is invincible, and that Kamari is sure to get a happy ending for the both of them.
Thank you for the ask!
#writeblr#the land of the fallen fairies#anuli the dryad#creative writing#take care of yourself#fiction#dryads#oc story#trick or treat#Halloween
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Action Comics No. 1 [June 1938]
The OG. The first true-blood superhero. The big man himself, Superman. From what I’ve heard, any physical copy of this issue in good enough condition can be worth a couple million dollars. Can you imagine, something that once cost a dime worth more than most people’s annual income?? Bonkers.
Anywho, let’s get into it.
Have to admit, the thing that catches my eye here is that logo on his costume. The rest of it is the same timeless classic design everyone knows, but that logo... not gonna lie, it looks weird. Kind of a little flick-and-swish instead of the blocky print of more modern superman logos.
I suppose the other big question is, who the fuck are these dudes. Why is Superman smashing their car. Why are they in the middle of the desert in Arizona. All mysteries that will probably never be solved.
Moving on, we’re given Superman’s origin story: A distant planet was destroyed by old age, so a scientist placed his infant son within a hastily-designed spaceship and shot him off to Earth! When it landed, a passing motorist discovered the sleeping child and turned him over to... an orphanage? Huh. Huh.
Like, I do get that this is well before any comic books cared about things like ‘backstory’ and ‘civilian lives’ and whatnot, but I admit I’m so used to the whole ‘taken in by Martha and Jonathon Kent’ thing that him initially being an orphanage kid is downright bizarre. Like, could you even IMAGINE trying to pull that in a modern day comic? Impossible. But at the same time, so compelling... hmm...
The backstory continues with baby Clark’s impressive feats of strength - as a baby, he could lift a reclining chair with one arm. By maturity, he could easily:
leap an eighth of a mile
hurdle over a twenty-story building
raise tremendous weights (pictured holding an I-bar over his head with one arm)
run faster than an express train
and “nothing less than an exploding shell could penetrate his skin”
I checked the stats for the train thing, and in 1938, the best in the line steam trains (in the US) had an average operating speed of 100 mph [160 km/h] and a top speed of 125 mph [200 km/h]. So I imagine that those are OG Clark’s ‘run’ and ‘sprint’ speeds as well.
We conclude the backstory page with a note that early on, Clark decided to turn his titanic strength into channels that would benefit mankind. Thus: Superman! Champion of the oppressed, the physical marvel who has sworn to devote his existence to helping those in need!
Also, oh my god, it has a blurb about the ‘scientific explanation’ for Clark Kent’s amazing strength.
Like, is this still nonsense? Yes, but I mean. Technically, it’s nonsense with some science to it. I kind of like it - it’s impressive, but not fantastical.
We finally move on to the action: Superman, racing through the night, a blond woman bound and gagged under his arm. When he reaches the governor’s house, he leaves her sitting under a tree, telling her to make herself comfortable, since he doesn’t have the time to.
Superman knocks on a door, and someone (an aide? a butler? IDK man) answers. The doorman demands to know why Superman is knocking at such a late hour. Superman states that he has to see the governor - it’s a matter of life and death! The doorman closes the door and says to come back in the morning. Superman refuses, smashing his way in and saying he’ll see him now.
The doorman is shaken, stating (fairly) that this is illegal entry, and he’ll have Supes arrested. Supes again demands to be taken to the governor. When the doorman refuses, Superman just picks the guy up and holds him overhead while marching up the stairs, ignoring the man’s cries for help.
A new obstacle appears - for some reason, the governor’s sleeping room is locked AND made of steel. The doorman is smug as he tells Superman that he won’t get away with this outrage, and that there’s absolutely no way this door can be knocked down-
Ah, cinematic poetry. Gotta love it.
The governor, woken by the chaos, turns on his bedside lamp while demanding to know what’s happening. Superman, holding a rolled up paper, tells the governor that Evelyn Curry is to be electrocuted in fifteen minutes for murder. However, he has a written confession that’s proof of her innocence!
The butler (aha! Finally, confirmation!) pulls out a gun, convinced Superman is a madman threatening the governor. He tells Supes to reach for the ceiling; Supes tells him to put ‘that toy’ away. The butler warns Superman he’ll shoot, and then proceeds to do so - to no effect, as the bullet ricochets off of Superman. Superman steps forward to take away the gun, stating it’s no time for horseplay, then returns his focus to the governor.
As the timer counts down to nine minutes left, Superman tells the governor that only he is capable of saving the innocent woman. The governor asks for the papers, and then makes a call to the penitentiary. The next panel briefly hops over to the execution room, where Miss Curry takes massive relief in the news that the governor has pardoned her. She had told them she was innocent!
(I wonder - if the governor had refused, would Clark have rushed to break the woman out himself? I would think he would, but it would probably be breaking the law a bit more than he already has with the whole ‘breaking and entering’ thing happening here.)
When we return to the governor’s house, Superman has already disappeared. However, he did leave behind a note stating that the real murderess would be found bound and gagged on the lawn of his estate.
We have a brief time skip to the next morning, when Clark Kent is leaving for his job as a reporter for the local newspaper. His neighbor is reading the morning paper, telling Clark all about how the Curry girl was found innocent. When Clark asks to read it himself, he’s inwardly relieved to find he’s not mentioned anywhere.
However, things aren’t that simple. At the same time, over in the governor’s private chamber, he’s meeting with several other important people, telling them all about how the man who had broken in was definitely not human! The only relief to be found was that said man seemed to be on the side of law and order.
When Clark enters the Daily Star - wait, what? Alright, I know it’s literally inconsequential, but that’s still an interesting difference between then and now. I wonder when that was changed and why?
Anyway! Clark is called into his boss’ office; the boss asks him to sit, then wants to know if Clark has ever heard of ‘Superman.’ When Clark expresses his shock/confusion, the boss clarifies - reports have been streaming in about a fellow with gigantic strength called Superman, and he’s making it Clark’s ongoing assignment to cover these reports.
Clark, with a totally not shit-eating grin, states confidently that if he can’t find out anything about Superman, then no one can!
Like look. Listen. That is the face of a man who has just been gifted the perfect alibi/cover for all his nonsense, and is barely keeping himself from cackling in delight. You know he’s internally rubbing his hands together in glee.
As Clark leaves the boss’ office, one of his co-workers lets him know that a tip was phoned in - a wife-beating on 211 Court Ave! Leaving aside the fact that said tipster should have probably been calling the police, Clark accepts the tip and hurries off.
[Insert from friends:
[Tyler] I mean historically domestic violence was treated differently to today, maybe it made sense to call the newspaper back then?
Wikipedia seems to be suggesting that while the cops would stop a wife beater by that time, there was a low chance of arrest, so maybe a newspaper article makes sense as a longer term punishment if the cops won’t help?
[Solem] I'd assume that the police were called first, and that it's someone from the police calling the paper -- dunno if they still do this, but it used to be that newspapers got bulletins like that so they could add the crimes to the public record and write up the police blotter. Hence why it was the perfect incognito place for Clark to work and keep his ear to the ground for trouble.]
When he arrives at the scene, he’s already changed into his costume and demands the man to stop. The man is holding a belt and standing over his wife, who is lying on the ground, covering her face, but stops to turn and demand to know what Superman wants, and to not get tough. Superman grabs him by the throat and lifts him up, saying that tough is a mild way to put the treatment the man is about to get. He then throws the man at the nearby wall, stating that he’s not fighting a woman now!
It seems that Supes is holding back, because the wall is undamaged, and the man is still conscious, choosing to attack Supes with a knife. However, the man has even less luck than the butler on that front - the knife breaks on Superman’s skin, leaving the man no recourse but to recoil in fear, and then faint.
Superman hears police sirens and quickly changes back into his civilian clothes, thinking of how bad it’d be if they searched him. By the time the officer steps in through the busted door, Clark Kent is kneeling over the unconscious man. The officer demands to know what Clark is doing there; Clark replies that he arrived to find the place like this, and that it seems that Superman had dropped in for a visit. [Also, gotta love that ‘tho’ is used in this panel.]
Another time skip, and we’re back in the office. This time, however, we see Clark awkwardly asking Lois out on a date, and her deigning to give him a break for once. Good to know that Lois hasn’t changed one bit in the past 80-something years.
That night, Lois and Clark are dancing together at some kind of... I guess restaurant? A party or event? There are tables for dining, but there’s also couples dancing, so like. It’s probably some kind of event, but I couldn’t tell you more than that. Clark asks why Lois always avoids him at the office. Lois tells him she’s been writing sob stories all day, and doesn’t want to dish out another.
[Insert from friends:
[Delci] You watch a lot of old black and white movies and this is shown all the time, dancing was a very big thing back then, like the only time to really socialize lol. Basically a club, eat, dance and listen to live entertainment.]
Over at one of the tables, three guys are chatting about her. Green suit thinks she’s nice looking and decides to cut in. Blue suit is cautious, worried that her escort [Clark] won’t like it. Green suit says it doesn’t matter, he’ll just punch Clark’s face in. Yellow suit is just excited to be here.
Green suit marches over and demands Clark leave. Clark notes that this isn’t a robber’s dance, and green suit gets annoyed, asking if he’s trying to be ‘flip’ (which i guess is shorthand for ‘flippant’) and again tells him to get moving, quick. Lois demands to know if Clark is going to stand for this. Clark reluctantly plays into his weakling persona, asking her to give the guy one dance so they can leave quickly.
She is having none of it, hands on her hips as she tells Clark that HE can dance with green suit, but she’s leaving now. Green suit is annoyed at her flippancy, and tells her he’ll dance with him and she’ll like it. Lois, done with this man’s shit, slaps him in the face. Clark gives a quiet cheer for her, then more loudly frets for her to stop.
Green suit probably caught the mutter, because he shoves a hand in Clark’s face and demands he fight (calling him a ‘weak livered pole-cat’ in the process, a fantastic insult); Clark demures and deflects.
Lois, already in her evening coat, is already heading out the door. Clark follows after her, asking her to wait. She doesn’t stop even after she gets into a taxi, telling him the reason she avoids him: because he’s a spineless, unbearable coward! (Yeowch.)
Back inside, green suit is pissed, rallying his friends to go after her and show her that she can’t make a fool of Butch Matson. Dude, I hate to tell you this, but she already did. Sucks to suck, man. :/
A few minutes later, Superman is on the scene, watching a familiar green car leave the roadhouse with three hoodlums inside. The car quickly catches up to the taxi, ramming into it and forcing it into a ditch. The suits pull her out of the taxi and force her into their car, while she demands they let her go. As they drive away, Butch complains that he let her boyfriend off easy. Blue suit states that they might meet again, and Butch replies that he hopes it’ll be soon.
As the car speeds forward, Superman stops in the road in front of it, hands on his hips. Blue suit(?) warns him of the guy ahead, while Butch just laughs and says that he’ll scare the guy a bit. Blue suit is worried about hitting him, though, especially as they approach and Superman doesn’t move.
At the last moment, Superman leaps over the top of the car without touching it, then starts dashing in pursuit, freaking out blue suit. Blue suit tells Butch to step on the gas; Butch compares Supes to the Devil himself. Despite their speed, Superman catches up easily, and holds the car over his head. He dumps all the occupants out - Lois included, double whoops! - and then smashes the car into bits against a rock. Which is the cover scene! Just with different clothes for the ‘civilians’.
After the car is dealt with, Superman chases down Butch and leaps up with him to the top of a power pole, hanging the man by his suit jacket to one of the parallel planks. When Butch demands to be let down, Superman offers to cut him loose, which has Butch backtrack immediately.
Superman then approaches a shocked Lois, gently telling her that she doesn’t need to be afraid, that he won’t harm her. (Definitely thinking this is a whole angel/Bible reference with the whole ‘be not afraid’ bit.) He then picks her up in a bridal carry and rushes her back to the city outskirts, advising her not to print anything about what happened.
The next morning, Lois is raving about it to the editor, trying to convince him that she saw Superman. The editor is skeptical, asking a bit mockingly whether it wasn’t pink elephants she saw. This honestly just had me realize that when said editor put Clark on the whole ‘Superman’ thing, he probably was skeptical, and considering that it’s only been a day since said assignment, said editor probably is still skeptical of Superman’s existance.
Anyway, that little segment ends with Clark trying to apologize for the previous night, but Lois is having none of it, outright icing him out.
Clark soon enough recieves a new assignment - the front page is getting dull, to the point of headlining card games. Apparently, there’s a war going on in a small South American republic, ‘San Monte,’ and he’s sending Clark there as correspondant. He tells Clark to take along a camera and to try to send some good shots with his articles.
Instead of going to San Monte, Clark goes over to Washington DC. Which I can’t blame him for, since that’s definitely a scandal in the making far closer to home. Clark attends a session of Congress, watching from the gallery. After recieving confirmation on the identity of Senator Barrows, Clark discretely follows up post-session by snapping a picture of Barrows speaking to a shady character about meeting up that night at at his home. He then goes to the local paper to learn more about the shady man, and finds out his name is Alex Greer, the slickest lobbiest in Washington... and no one knows who backs him.
By the time 8:30 PM rolls around, Superman is clinging to the side of a skyscraper, multiple stories up, eavesdropping on their conversation. Which is hilarious for many, many reasons. Mostly because it’s now no fucking wonder he and Bruce are friends when they pull the exact same snooping nonsense.
Barrows reminds Greer that he’s supposed to be avoiding him in public. What would people think if they knew they knew each other? Greer tells him to stop sputtering, he had to see him. He has to know if the senator will succeed in pushing the bill through. Barrows confirms it will, well before its full implications are realized. Before anyone knows it, the country will be embroiled with Europe!
...wait. Wait wait, this is a bill about joining the war in Europe? No, this was before World War Two started! So what, is this trying to kick off a war? Or just getting economically bogged down with Europe in general? I admit I’m not sure, but in that context, yeah, this is definitely something to be concerned about.
Greer is pleased, stating that Barrows will be financially compensated for this. Barrows rhetorically asks whether Greer is getting taken care of as well. Supermna, listening in, thinks that he definitely will - though probably not in the way either of the two are thinking.
On leaving the building, Greer is confronted by Superman, who wants to know who’s backing him. Greer tries to deny the accusations, but Supes is having none of it, grabbing him by the hand and saying they’ll see whether he’ll talk. When Greer demands he let go of his hand, Supes just grabs him by the foot instead and takes off in a huge leap.
Master of malicious complaince, Clark is.
Greer panics about electrocution as they come in for a landing on some telephone wires. Superman assures him they won’t - birds sit on wires all the time, and they aren’t fried - at least, not unless they touch a pole and are grounded! Superman then leaps over a pole with an ‘oops!’ that’s all about fucking with this man.
Again, I am very quickly realizing how this man and Bruce ‘I dangle criminals over the edge of buildings’ Wayne are besties. It’s all about the subtle death threats with those two.
Superman points out the capitol, suggesting they pay it a visit. Greer is still demanding to be put down, but Clark just wants to admire the view from the top of the White House. He then wonders out loud whether they can make the jump all the way across to the building, ignoring Greer’s increasing panic in order to do so - and apparently misses.
...and this concludes issue 1, or at least the part about Superman. The end of that last panel gives a little ‘to be continued’ note, followed up by a panel reminding readers to not miss an issue so as to keep on reading about Superman. Man, what an adventure.
Have to admit, I was genuinely surprised by some of this. Like, I knew Superman didn’t start out with the thousand and five powers he has in modern comics, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so... grounded? Kind of wild. I could easily see a lot more ways this version of him could be challenged meaningfully beyond just ‘the enemy has Kryptonite and/or magic to weaking him’ and/or ‘it’s a situation where he can’t bruce force it without things going horribly wrong.’
Likewise, orphan Supes has some kind of compelling art to it. While I definitely favor Ma and Pa Kent as a reason he grew up kind, and I also get how there’s no way the whole ‘random motorist runs into a baby in a spaceship and just takes them to an orphanage’ thing would work nowadays, it’s still interesting to consider how such a backstory would have to be adjusted to at least be plausible.
Also, I know I made a joke earlier about ‘get me photos of Superman’ but like. Oh my god, Peter Parker isn’t the neighborhood menace, fucking Superman is. Breaking and entering, eavesdropping, destruction of property; this man just cannot be stopped. Truly, an auspicious start to one of the most iconic superheroes of all time.
Can’t wait for the next issue!
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Reading All of Garfield (Up Until This Point) The 1981 Post
So in a hilarious and delightful turn of events I have managed to circle back around to loving reading the Garfield comics again! I'm sure this won't develop into the ups and downs of binging Garfield or anything.
Anyway, read the Garfield Archive and join me!
I personally enjoy that Lyman was even an option for who ate Jon's sock. Is that something that he does often? I love that for the months that we do not see Lyman he is out here eating Jon's socks. Absolutely the worst roommate ever.
Look at that! The nap attack bit is back! We had this one last year and I did not enjoy is that much then either. But I'm trying to look at this with fresh eyes! Anywho, Garfield The Archivist.
OH GOD, IT'S HAPPENING, JON IS WEARING LYMAN'S SHIRT
Ooo, the linework has changed for this panel! It looks like from here on out Davis is using a different kind of pen!
I'm.... Do you usually put mayo on salads, Garfield?
Why living a boring life just to have a boring death? Enjoy your demise, Garfield~
That is just how an owner talks about their cat though, absolutely savage. Also this strip made me fuckin' gasp while laughing so it gets an A+ for that.
A literal reaction to some of these strips, I think I am in the flop era. Either that or I am just anticipating the mighty return of Lyman. I know he's out there somewhere!
I'm Sorry, Jon.
Okay, I take it back, no flop era, I love every comic with Nermal in it~
Now this is just god (Jim Davis) having a laugh at Garfield's expense! Also, I would hate mondays too if they involved having pianos dropped on me!
LYMAN IS BACK, WE LITERALLY HAD NOT SEEN HIM SINCE JAN, BUT HE IS HERE AGAIN JUST IN TIME FOR GARFIELD'S BIRTHDAY! Now back into the closet with him.
One of my felines would disagree! She loves the leash and harness because it means that she can go roll around in the dirt.
She used to date Lizzie Borden!? I'm not sure if this is an age joke, or honestly just a fun thought experiment.
Oh you just KNOW that, that cat food is going to taste terrible. Sorry, Garfield, you're too honest to act.
Honestly, me too, I can't keep a straight face through nasty food either.
So, first I had to look up what the heck an "apteryx" was; and then I had to look up why this comic would be funny. Shout out to this thread on reddit where someone was as puzzled as me.
I too would like to become a moose because my life has gotten too routine.
Love how ready he was for this bit, man positioned himself in front of that mirror and everything, he was ready to make sure she knew how pretty he is.
Jon really went and taught Garfield how to fetch, that is fucking adorable. Look how happy Garfield is about it too! This cat just needs to let himself enjoy life more often in a simple way!
In a different timeline this is where Jon died. I really should have been keeping track of how many times that happens.
Imagine putting a landmine in your cat's breakfast. I can't imagine that this was the kind of spice that Garfield was wanting with his breakfast.
WHY DOES HE LOOK SO HAPPY ABOUT THIS?! For everyone out there that does not have cats count yourself lucky that you have never had to deal with wet cat food. Bathing cannot save you from the smell of cat food in your hair.
After I finish reading all of these I have to check out a garfield family tree, poor Uncle Nick.
HOLD UP! 🫵
ENHANCE
ENHANCE
FREEZE FRAME! THERE ARE NO ANCHOVIES ON THAT PIZZA! THAT IS VERY CLEARLY A BURNT TO ALL HELL PEPPERONI!
I have beheld that struggle, most relatable Garfield comic to ever exist.
When I tell you my eyes got so wide. I want there to be a returning bit where Jon is forced to chase his own mice and gets one of these put on his chest in the night
A perfect place to end this year! On A Threat.
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I would like to preface this post with an apology. I just realized at the time of writing this (March 31, at 20:42) there was no song for February. It's just a little late to amend that now, so instead I'm offering an apology. Both February and March were crazy--not offering an excuse but rather an explanation. Sorry about that. If you're looking for a recommendation/Unofficial February song, check out Halfway to Hell by Jelly Roll. That's the song I had intended to write up for February but never had time to do. Sorry for skipping an entire month.
Anywho...
I chose the song "I Was Here" by Lady A for March. Anybody ever see the movie Act Of Valor? If you haven't, I totally recommend watching it, though I digress. I first heard the song "I Was Here" on the Act Of Valor soundtrack, and I fell in love. Who doesn't want to make their mark on the world? As somebody who spent a lot of time getting to know themself, I'm here to tell you, publicity won't make you famous. Each of us will mark the world in our own way--maybe you'll fight for an important cause, or maybe you'll smile at somebody who looks like they need some hope. Somebody will always remember you and your actions. March has been full of self discovery for me, and I invite you to join me. Offer a stranger a small glimmer of hope. A smile or friendly wave will go a long way. Trust me. I'll check back in next month.
youtube
Lyrics:
You will notice me
I'll be leavin' my mark, like initials carved in an old oak tree
You wait and see
Maybe I'll write like Twain wrote
Maybe I'll paint like Van Gough
Cure the common cold
I don't know but I'm ready to start 'cause I know in my heart
I wanna do something that matters
Say something different
Something that sets the whole world on it's ear
I wanna do somethin' better, with the time I've been given
And I wanna try to touch a few hearts in this life
And leave nothin' less that something that says I was here
I will prove you wrong
If you think im all talk, your in for a shock
'Cause this streams too strong, and before too long
Maybe I'll compose symphonies
Maybe I'll fight for world peace
'Cause I know it's my destiny to leave more that a trace of myself in this place
I wanna do something that matters
Say something different
Something that sets the whole world on it's ear
I wanna do somethin' better, with the time I've been given
And I wanna try to touch a few hearts in this life
And leave nothin' less that something that says I was here
And I know that I, I will do more than just pass through this life
I'll leave nothin' less that somethin' that says I was here
I was here
I was here
I was here
Wanna do somethin' that matters
Somethin' that says I was here
Wanna do somethin' that matters
Somethin' that says I was here, I was here
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isn't that the point though? i can't remember where, but i feel like i read somewhere that the developers/writers of botw/totk *wanted* link to be a shell character that the players could project themselves onto. that's also why he's a little more androgynous than previous iterations. yes, twilight link had more personality. yes, ocarina of time link had more personality. but could it be argued that the first link, the very first link to take up the sword generations and generations ago had personality? no. by creating a "shell" link with "no character beyond the gameplay", legend of zelda is going back to the roots.
the story isn't about link.
the story is about *you*.
and one of my favorite memories i have of breath of the wild isn't a link story, it's a me story.
i'll put it in the read more in case you don't care, but i feel like saying "oh this link is terrible because he has no personality" is doing this link a disservice. because he *does* have a personality. he smiles like a dork when he's cooking and makes seal puns. he gets shy and bashful when he tries on new clothes and is praised for being beautiful.
so anywho, that's my two rupees on that. i hope you have a great weekend.
okay, so my favorite story to tell about legend of zelda: breath of the wild.
i'd beaten vah ruta, which was really the only thing i wanted to do because i wanted to stare at the shark husband and bond with him, so i was kinda meh on going anywhere else or doing any other quest. at this point, all i'm really doing is gathering korok seeds and filling out the map. when i have a random thought: "oh! hetsu said he lived in the lost woods! i should go there, turn in some korok seeds, and get some more inventory space!"
totally forgetting one very important detail from my legend of zelda history.
so humming a jaunty tune (yes, it was "link, he come to town, come to save, the princess zelda" we don't gotta talk about that), i head to a tower, take a look around, and check my map. there's some patches i haven't gone to yet, and i take a guess. after a few hours, i spot a dense cloister of trees and figure, "there we are!" and on foot, head inside the forest.
here, i *did* remember some of my legend of zelda history, specifically the locked memories of legend of zelda: ocarina of time, aka one of the only two zelda games i had really clocked a solid amount of time in. i grew up with oot, have a lot of fond memories of it, so when i saw the torches whipping in the wind, i knew what to do.
follow the wind.
so i did, grinning the whole way because i felt like a pretty smart cookie for getting through it on the first try.
at the end of the forest, i felt a chill.
me. the player. in real life. not link. *me.*
the fog parted as i stepped forward, walking because something was tickling at the back of my mind that i'd stumbled into something important.
sunlight filtered through the trees. i could hear the giggles of koroks and the rustling of the leaves as they hid.
and there it was.
the master sword.
i didn't mean to find it. i didn't even know where it would be.
all this time, wandering around, wasting time and doing nothing, *looking* for nothing.
and i stumbled upon my destiny.
i wasn't looking for it.
and it found me.
*me.*
not link.
and *that's* why i love breath of the wild and tears of the kingdom and this incarnation of link. because he isn't link. he isn't a character in a story.
link is *you*
and *you* are the legend this story is about.
Every botw/totk ship having a midoff over who gets the completely lobotomized shell of a character they call this iteration of link
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i was a whole clown going into the society ready to watch my cinnamon apple toby wallace kill a reoccurring role only to be met with c*mpbell
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#that being said- KING bodied the role...i can’t name a villain that causes me Physical Distress when he’s in scene#like the visceral fight or flight responce i get is wild#anywho check out toby playing soft boys in ‘the last time i saw richard’ and ‘boys in the trees’#he’s so! talented!!!!!!!#the society#toby wallace
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One Wall Over: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader
synopsis: you’re new in the neighborhood, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get a warm welcome from your duplex buddy.
wc: 3k
tw: nsfw, smut, annoying noises at five am, the works
a/n: ahhhhhhhhh! I am so excited to be taking part in this collab with @suna-reversed reversed for a super sexy jjk collab! Please check out the masterlist for the collab here and the other authors! SO EXCITED TO READ THE OTHERS! (The other title I had for this work is “First of All, How Dare You” because that’s literally me every time I see my hubby Suguru, but anywho!).
Moving in was a bitch.
For the first time ever, you have no roommates, no parents, and no pets - just you and your meager belongings moving into the little, two-story duplex a friend allowed you to sublet. As you stare out of the window facing the sparse front lawn, you wonder what your neighbor is like. They hadn’t come to welcome you to the home, but you knew they existed by the sound of the bass through your shared wall at five am every morning.
You assume they’re male or a couple, but you’ve never gotten a chance to see them with your own two eyes. So you kept a lookout day after day. At exactly four p.m., you would sit across from the window with a book and keep watch, the sun streaming in and illuminating your figure and crossed legs anchored on the window sill. But day after day, you wouldn’t see anything. The neighbor’s car wouldn’t even move an inch from the previous day. Everything would remain the same until the next day when you took your perch by the window.
It isn’t until you’re out on your front lawn, slaving over the flowers you maintained for a whole month - a new record - that the sleek Range Rover drives up to the garage on your neighbor’s side of the house. At first, you don’t notice it, your eyes firmly planted on the soil at the root of your orchid tree. But then you hear a car door slam, and you look up, watching for the person who would be exiting the vehicle.
A tall, black haired man slides out of the truck and slams the door shut, his locks tucked into a half bun and a white towel resting around his rippling shoulders. He slides his keys into his gym shorts and turns to walk into the house, barely noticing you on the front lawn in an ill-fitting t-shirt and dirty yoga pants.
He’s halfway to his front door when you find your voice and yell out, “Hey, neighbor!” You wave your hand at him in hopes that he would return the gesture, but you’re sorely disappointed when he only looks your way with disinterest and walks into the house without speaking. You frown at the encounter, hoping that he would return a little while later and explain his lack of manners, but he doesn’t, and you retreat into the house once more.
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“Unzzz, unzz, unzzzz…” Both eyes fly open at the sound of the bass on the other side of your bedroom wall, the sudden noise jarring you from your sleep.
“Ugh…” Your eyes slide to the white numbers on the clock face, which politely remind you that it’s five-fifteen AM. Don’t confront him, don’t confront him. You wrap the pillow around your ears, hoping the gentle cushion would block out the sound. But for some reason, it gets even louder, and a groan escapes your lips. There were only two more hours for you to rest, but at this rate, you’d be up until it was time for you to wake and get ready for work. That just wouldn’t do.
The grey sweatpants deposited on the floor the night before are quickly jerked on, and you pad to the front door, not caring about your appearance as you walk the length of the porch over to his front door. Inhaling, you find the will to bring your fist up and pound on the door, hoping the sound would be angrier than you actually felt. Fear ate at your nerves while you waited. A few agonizing moments later, the door is yanked open, music floods outside, and your neighbor stands before you in just a pair of black sweatpants. Nothing else.
“What?” he gripes, sweat rolling down his forehead. As your eyes take in the full sight of him, you wonder what kind of sculpted god you had for a neighbor. You could even faintly see the v that would culminate in the bulge near the crotch area of the pants, which apparently is quite--
“Uh…” You had entirely forgotten what you had come over to his side of the house for, but as he leans on the doorframe and gives you a withering stare, you suddenly remember your complaint. “Your wall is next to my bedroom. Can you turn your music down?” You place a hand on your hip, trying to seem more inconvenienced than you actually were in that moment.
“Yeah, sure.” He shuts the door in your face, and you trudge back over to your side of the house, hoping the music would soften.
But for some reason, you swear he turns it up even louder.
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“Why don’t you just call the landlord and make a noise complaint?” your friend wonders over the phone, the sound of a frying pan in the background slightly overshadowing her voice.
“But you said you didn’t have any problems with him, Mariela.”
“Yeah, Geto was nice enough and didn’t bother me much. Not sure why he’s being such an ass now.” You hear an oh, shit on the other end, and Mariela hisses into the receiver, “Hey, y/n, I have to go; the risotto is burning. Call me back if you have any other issues, okay?”
“Okay.” You hang up and toss your phone on your desk, trying to focus on the words in front of you but failing as the sound of the bass filters through the other side of the wall again. For the fourth day in a row, you’ve been subjected to the sound of pure noise coming through the other side. Tonight was absolutely not the night, mostly because you had a presentation that took you all night to finish, and the clamor was interrupting your prep work for the bright and early eight o’clock meeting. You feel like Squidward, subjecting yourself to the endless noises from the grunting to the bass to the sound of weights clanking back into place.
It’s the sound of Geto’s groaning that sets you on edge the most. If it weren’t for the added noise of weights, you’d be convinced he was fucking someone. There was no way he could make so much noise and not know that he was disturbing your peace. Hadn’t he ever heard of headphones?
You snatch up your set of earbuds on your desk, place them in your ears, and try to turn up lofi music as loud as it will go. But that doesn’t work. Even relocating to the living room didn’t seem to fare you well, and you wonder if he truly had cranked up the music higher than before just to annoy the hell out of you. Finally, you toss your earbuds down and slam your computer on your coffee table.
You’d had enough.
Stomping over to the front door, you fling it open and bang on Geto’s door, hoping he would answer it in a rage so you could let out your frustrations. But when the door flies open, he’s dressed in only a pair of gym shorts, this time the outline of his dick even more apparent. But you’re not focused on that. You point a finger at him and inhale to begin your tirade; sick and utterly over his shit.
“Hey! Can you fucking turn it down?” Geto stretches out a hand, and for a minute you think he’s going to grab you by the shirt, but he pulls you inside by the wrist, crushing you against his chest. “What the hell?” You push away from his sweaty chest, backing into the closed door harshly.
“Lower your damn voice; the neighbors will hear,” he chastises, and turns away from you to grab the water bottle on the counter. The muscled man takes a long swig, then wipes his face with the towel right next to it.
“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is, but I’ve never been so disrespected in my li--” As you talk, he’s advancing on you, pushing back his long black hair back behind his ears and getting too close for comfort. Once he’s right up on you, you gulp hard, fully intimidated by his size and stature. The music suddenly stops, and you’re left in silence.
“I’m listening,” he mutters, staring down at you. “Please, continue.”
“I was saying…” your throat dries up. “What I meant was…” Your eyes travel from his chest to his navel, and then to the hand pressed against the doorframe.
“Uh huh…” He nods, squinting his black eyes at you. “You said you’ve ‘never been more disrespected in your’… life, right?” You don’t reply. Rather, you can’t reply. All of the words you could have ever said are now gone from your skull. “I highly doubt that, y/n.”
“H-how…”
“You’re Mariela’s friend. I’ve seen you quite a few times before you moved in here. Never thought I’d be living so close to you, though. Mariela’s subletting, isn’t she?”
All of these questions. And you can’t reply to a single one because he’s practically squeezing you between the door and his rock-hard abs. Or are you pressing yourself against the door to get away from the heat emitting from his body - oh, fuck; you don’t know.
“But I had to get your attention somehow.” The admission startles you so bad that you accidentally knock the back of your head against the door, touching the point of contact in pain and hissing slightly. Geto hums at your blunder, then pushes off of the wall to turn away from you. As he rotates, you catch a glimpse of his erection, now fully apparent in the atrocity that is his shorts. “The yard work wasn’t effective, the trips to the gym and back barely worked; shit, by now I would’ve thought you would throw yourself at me the first chance you got. I guess I had to make you mad enough to confront me.”
“You literally looked at me and said nothing the first time I saw you!” you retort, throwing your hands up in the air. “Then you almost bit my head off the first time I came over to tell you the music was too loud.”
“I didn’t expect you to come over the first time. Besides, I couldn’t figure out anything smooth enough in that short amount of time.” Geto shrugs, his shoulder muscles moving like water in the dim lighting of the living room. You look around at the furnishings, noting his impeccable taste in wood and red suede in conjunction with his minimal exercise equipment. “Coffee? You look like you’ve been up for a while.” He leans over a coffee-maker - one of those fancy ones that you’ve seen on TV - and slides a plain coffee cup into the holder.
“Uh, no thanks.” You turn to the door and begin to open it, but Geto clicks his tongue thrice.
“You’re just going to leave without getting what you came for?”
You pause for a moment, then turn back to look him over once. “Don’t you mean what you brought me over here for?” A lazy smile spreads across his face, and that’s when you realize that he’s charming, but not necessarily as suave as you first imagined. You shut the door and walk over to him, examining his physique as if you hadn’t just helped yourself to his tall, statuesque figure already. He allows you to look him over, eyes dedicatedly following you.
“Like what you see, doll?” You don’t get a chance to answer as he pulls you into his chest with a smooth movement, then presses his lips against yours. You instantly open your mouth so he can slide his tongue inside, and he does so without hesitation. Hands grasp at your flimsy night shirt, pulling it over your shoulders as he backs you up against the wall, hiking one leg up and wrapping the other around his waist.
As both of your hands tangle in hair, fabric, sweat, you wonder how long - just how long - he’s wanted to do this. But your train of thought is rudely interrupted by his lips trailing kiss down your neck and to your collarbone, where he pauses for a second, catching his breath. Fingers dance through his locks and he peers up at you for a second, drinking in your flushed expression and breathy exhales.
“Geto, please, I--” You’re silenced again by his lips, his thick fingers rolling past the waistband of your night shorts and right to your core, where he nestles them into your heat with ease.
“Goddamn…” The rumbling of his voice vibrates against your chest, and you gasp, feeling every stroke of his fingers inside of you. “So fucking wet… just for me.” Your vision narrows in on the black eyes watching your every move, the angle of your face, the way you tilt your chin to the side and shakily exhale. Everything is perfect. Maybe even better than he imagined at first. But you don’t know that, and you really don’t care to know. All you want is release and for that release to be at Geto’s hands. When he removes his fingers and hoists you onto the suede couch, your first reaction is to cry out in shock.
His hands roll your shorts down to your knees and then press your legs open, spreading you for him to examine.
“You’re a mess down there… perhaps I should help you clean up.”
“Huh?” The double entendre is completely lost on you in the heat of the moment. You watch as he leans down, then moves to lick your core with a flat tongue, stroking up before he goes down again and repeats his action twice. Your head finds the soft cushion of the pillow in ecstasy, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.
Geto hums down below, fully appreciating your taste before sucking on your clit, hard. You yelp, shooting up, but his hand presses you back down, eyes still closed. Fingers make their way up to your breasts, tugging at your nipples leisurely before tightening and pulling with more tension. “Oh, god, please…” Your hands find his head, and at the sudden application of pressure, he grunts again. And you’re left there in agonizing pleasure, dangling between an orgasm and a build-up of pressure, one stroke away from tumbling into the cavern of blissful unawareness.
Geto stops without warning, pulling back to watch you as he still tweaks your nipples with varying degrees of firmness. You tug at his shorts in a silent plea for him to discard them, and he waits a minute before sliding them off wordlessly. His length is impressive, you note, his cock springing free from his shorts and angled upwards a little. A condom is produced just as quickly, and he rolls it over himself before spreading you a little wider to accommodate his length. When he nudges his cock at your slit, you realise he’s a little breathless and shaking, but that all goes to the back of your mind when he slides inside of you with little resistance.
“Fuck, doll, that’s--” He groans just as you moan, both of you relishing the expanding feeling. “God, that’s perfect.” You whimper at his praise and bring your hands to his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he begins to pump into you. Geto’s lips find your neck and he sucks a hickey on your left side, placing another one neatly below it while his hands cup your ass.
“Does that feel good?” He whispers and you nod, completely at a loss for words. But soon, it’s not enough, and your fingers dig into his back. He’s fucking you slowly… too slowly.
“M-more,” you whine, and he delivers his thrusts faster, pumping into you and moaning loudly. Your fingers find his face and angles it towards your raised head so you can kiss him on the lips. He offers you that mercy - a deep, languid kiss - while he plows into you with abandon. Pleasure is the only thing on your minds - you just so happen to have found it in each other’s arms - and your orgasm is just within reach.
“Geto, I’m close…” His response to your words is to lift your left leg a little higher so it practically hung off the couch and in the air, deeping his strokes until they settled against your cervix, like someone tapping a soft rhythm into your stomach. “Shit, like that.”
“Yeah?” he exhales, looking at your face with a blissed-out expression, his cheeks reddening. You raise your hips to meet his with each thrust, hoping your orgasm would arrive before Geto came. There isn’t much you can do though, besides writhe beneath him and pull him closer to you, thereby making you and him almost inseparable. He’s merely rocking into your hips now, cock barely rolling out of you as before. And you can’t deny that it feels like heaven, not when you’ve been so frustrated for so long.
“I’m gonna cum,” Geto hisses into your mouth, and you nod, constricting a little to urge him on. What you fail to realize is that the constriction was just what you need to tumble over into the abyss of thoughtlessness, and your mouth opens to let loose a guttural moan as Geto fucks you faster and faster, chasing his own orgasm on the heels of yours. “Oh, shit,” Your neighbor sinks into you one final time, shooting his cum into the condom, but pumping in stuttered strokes as if he were really letting loose inside of you.
When you both fall from the heights of your sex-induced high, shoulders and heads are draped where there is comfort and space, little exhales from his mouth fanning across your breasts. Geto lifts off of your sweaty chest and looks you in the eyes before breathing:
“Maybe I should start my days with this instead of a workout.”
#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto suguru#jujutsu kaisen getou#getou x reader#jujutsu kaisen geto#getou suguru#geto smut#getou smut#jjk smut#jujutsuhub collab
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— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE SEVENTEEN || KYOTO SISTER SCHOOL EXCHANGE EVENT - GROUP BATTLE 3
↳ featuring : basically everyone at this point from jujutsu kaisen
↳ warnings : mention of killing + mention of explosion + EXTREME grammar issues
↳ form : story
↳ published : 02 april
↳ pronouns : she/her
↳ word count : 2.5k
↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....
↳ previous episode : kyoto sister school exchange event - group battle 2
↳ next episode : sage
↳ barista’s notes : hehe you guys really don’t trust me anymore ʕ ꆤ ᴥ ꆤʔ...but here is the real episode everyone ╲ʕ·ᴥ· ╲ʔ i hope you enjoy it with all your hearts and don’t worry about anymore pranks, i am not that type of person unless it’s april 01 ʕ – ᴥ – ʔ
BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:
1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.
2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.
2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better...
no cursed spells used this episode..
crescent moon shape cursed energy swing : here
3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.
“You want to become the head of the Zenin clan?!” you questioned in a surprised tone before turning your head to the side to face the weapon specialist sorcerer, only for your upperclassmen to continue to take a swing from the water bottle that you had brought her.
“It’s to spite them. What? Don’t you believe in me?” Maki responded to you once she twisted the lid of the water bottle closed before turning to look at you with a small smile.
“No, it’s not that...it’s just the process is just a whole drag, you know the paperwork, the connections with the other clans as well as your own family, it’s draining,” you commented before slowly laying down on your back leading your head to land on your track top that you had placed as a pillow.
“I’m surprised that you didn’t mention anything about the criticism,” Maki mentioned, leading you to stare up to the sky for a second before shifting your eyes to her direction, only to peer at a face that didn’t show any hesitation nor worries but rather confidence.
“I don’t care about criticism at all, it’s just a whole drag ass of a process, especially when you have to deal with two other male clan leaders,” you muttered under your breath since you didn’t want to mess up by saying three since you were technically the head of the L/N clan unofficially.
“I guess so, but I can’t wait to see the look on my family’s face when I become a hotshot sorcerer though,” Maki mentioned as she took her glasses off to give you another smile causing you to fully turn your head to the side to gain a proper clear view of your upperclassmen before giving her a soft smile back.
“If it’s you, then I wouldn’t mind at all Maki-san,” you declared causing the sorcerer to giggle lightly at your comment leading you to follow on since the laughter of Maki became really contagious for some odd reason.
‘If it’s you, then I wouldn’t have to hide anymore…’
“By the way, where is that idiot taking you this week?” Maki suddenly questioned, causing you to look at her with a slightly perplexed expression on your face before you came to the sudden realisation that she was talking about the strongest sorcerer that became your adoptive father.
“He’s taking me somewhere this week?” you asked confusingly as you quickly sat straight up only to find the mentioned man wearing a pair of black tinted glasses with the classic outfit of a simple white button-up shirt with black suit-like pants waving at you.
“Looks like he is, have fun on your daddy-daughter date,” Maki teased before standing up to continue training with the other second years as well as your classmates that gave their teacher a glare since they wanted to train with you a little longer.
ꕥ
“Why does Maki-san have to suffer because of that stupid clan?” Nobara shouted loudly causing you to jump slightly because you didn’t expect her to be yelling in the middle of Starbuck with her chocolate Frappuccino in hand before you started to look around to make sure no one was looking in your direction since people weren’t supposed to know about the existent of sorcerer as of right now.
“What’s wrong?” you asked in a concerned tone since you didn’t really want to cause a scene right now as you moved your vanilla cream Frappuccino straw away from your lips.
“I don’t get why the Zenin clan are halting Maki-san’s promotion, it’s stupid!” Kugisaki declared as she waved her arms around to exaggerate her statement nearly making you giggle at the sight since she looked like a sea creature right now.
“Well, it is quite common for families to do that when one of their members do not have cursed energy within them, they don’t even take the Heavenly Restriction into consideration,” you answered before taking another sip of your sugary drink.
“But why, isn’t superhuman physical prowess a good thing?” Kugisaki asked, before beginning to scroll through her phone to look up other places that you and she needed to visit before you both left to go back to Jujutsu Tech.
“Well, once they reject someone, they won’t take someone back, it saves them from the embarrassment of taking someone back,” you answered before looking to the side where there was a window, showcasing the roaming crowd in the city of Shibuya as some students were roaming around with books in their hand to head off to the library and some office workers, who were rushing back to their workplace from their lunch break.
“To be honest, it’s quite pathetic, it’s better to have someone that has superhuman strength and speed than a pure jujutsu sorcerer sometimes,” you commented, causing your classmate to look at you with confusion on her face.
“Why do you think that?” Kugisaki questioned as she was becoming intrigued by what was going on in your mind right now.
“Sometimes they survive things that other sorcerers can’t, it’s like a cheat code from certain death,” you answered as you turned to look at your friend before taking another sip of the vanilla drink that was right in front of you. “Besides, the Zenin clan are just full of weak men that are scared that they have to bow down to a woman, it would be funny to see them shocked,” you stated with a smile on your face leading Kugisaki to look at you with a surprised expression before seeing the slight hint of amusement in your eyes once that statement left your mouth to which caused a small smirk to appear on her face as well.
“There’s a reason why the queen is the most important chess piece on the board,” you comment before taking another sip of your vanilla Frappuccino letting the sweet flavour fall onto the tip of your tongue as if you could already taste your victory if you ever went against the Zenin clan in your lifetime.
ꕥ
“Do you get it?”
Snapping out of her thoughts, Kugisaki quickly looked up to discover her opponent in an extremely irritated expression, who was currently in the air as she was sitting upon her broom that just minutes ago slammed across the face.
“They don’t demand strength from female jujutsu sorcerers, they demand perfection! And on top of that, Mai-chan is also fighting against even more outrageous demands,” Nishimiya declared as she stared down at Kugisaki while trying to explain the disadvantages of being a female within the sorcery world that they were both currently in while trying to make Kugisaki conscious about the situation of her lower classmen and somewhat make her feel some sympathy towards her.
“I get that you’re a pain in the ass!” Kugisaki declared as she used her cursed energy to raise up three nails before swinging towards them Nishmiya leading her to dodge with her broom effortlessly before using a huge gush of wind towards the first-year, only to her surprise that Kugisaki was still standing with a smirk on her face, just like the one she showed you back when you both went on that Starbucks date.
“I’m used to getting knocked around and that attack isn’t even enough to compare to what I’ve been through,” Kugisaki mentioned while lifting her bangs away from her face as she began to recall the amount of time you had made her lose her footing as well as violently hitting her to the point where Panda had to save her a few times before she could even hit the tree she was going to crash into during the two months of training that everyone had.
“All done with your lecture?!” Kugisaki rhetorically asked as she raised up more of her nails before violently smashing them with her hammer towards Nishimiya again leading the sorcerer to dodge them once again while continuing on with her speech.
“Perfection is easy compared to what’s demanded of Mai-chan! She’s from the Zenin-can, one of the three major clans of elite jujutsu sorcerers. Perfection is expected as a matter of course there,” Nishimiya commented as she continued to ride her broom before stabilising herself once the attack had finished.
“‘Inherit the Zenin clan’s hereditary technique.’ Anywho don’t meet that demand, start their sorcerer lives as failures. Among those, women aren’t even allowed to stand at the starting line. Without the Zenin clan lineage, they’re not considered jujutsu sorcerers and if they’re not jujutsu sorcerers, they’re not considered people,” Nishimiya yelled out as if it was her own story that she was reciting to Kugisaki, leading to the first-year to somewhat zone out as she began to remember something that you had mentioned to her one time.
‘Gender should not matter at the end of the day, if you can beat or exorcise them...why should you care what gender they are? You won the chess game, right?’
“She’s lived her entire life with such scorn in a family without a shred of affection. Can you imagine how much Mai-chan and others suffered just to obtain what we enjoy as a matter of course? Why don’t you try thinking over with that brain of yours that confuses curses for friends?” the blonde-haired sorcerer questioned, before swiftly dodging a nail that was thrown at her suddenly.
“Shut up. Do you think misfortune is a free pass to do anything? What, then? You’re satisfied with those who are blessed getting trash-talked behind their back? That’s how Saori-chan…,” Kugisaki questioned in a low and threatening tone as she began to reminisce about her childhood friend that was run out of her countryside town just because she was from the city.
“I can’t stand her, regardless of her upbringing and I love Maki-san, who endured the same upbringing. Have you all even bothered to think about what kind of person the idiot you’re trying to curse is?” Kugisaki asked once again, only to get a silent and annoyed expression as her answer. “What makes us obligated to meet such perfection or such absurd demands? Gojo...she doesn’t even strive for perfection as a special-grade sorcerer. Is your entire life just a job?!” the first-year yelled out before lifting her hand as she angrily activated her curse technique leading to multitudes of large explosions of cursed energy to surround the entire forest, forcing Nishimiya to fly around the area in a panic towards getting hit by any of the blasts.
Suddenly, as Nishimiya tried to, once again, stabilise herself on her broom, another nail was thrown causing it to land on a tree trunk only for a sudden foot to make its way on top of it as a stepping platform leading Kugisaki to jump up with full strength to reach up towards her opponent. However, it only led her to grab a few bristles of the flying divide.
“You might have brought me down, but you still won’t reach me!” Nishimiya declared as she released another gust of wind to push Kugisaki back down to the ground only for your classmate to land roughly on her feet as she took out one of her straw dolls from her school jacket.
“No, I reached you. This is plenty,” Kugisaki mentioned as she stuck one of the straw bristles on the doll as she continued with “I don’t give a damn about ‘men’ this and ‘women’ that! You can keep that shit to yourselves! I love myself when I’m pretty and all dressed up! And I love myself when I’m being strong!”
“I am... Kugisaki Nobara!” Kugisaki proudly declared before slamming her hammer down on her doll letting her cursed energy flow into her equipment, suddenly causing Nishimiya’s broom to malfunction as she began to drop.
‘If I hit here with my hammer, I might kill her,’ Kugisaki thought as she remembered what you told her leading her to smirk, yet she knew she couldn’t break the rules causing her to reach behind her back to reveal a red and yellow hammer that suddenly expanded to which lead the Kyoto sorcerer to identify it as a squeaky hammer only to be violently smacked with it across her face.
“One more time!” Kugisaki yelled out. However, before the hammer could even connect to Nishimiya’s face again, a sudden small but large impact was felt on her temple causing Kugisaki’s body to be flung over to the side leading Nishimiya to look surprised before facing forward as she wondered who was the person responsible for saving her.
ꕥ
“Hello? Momo?” Mai greeted as she placed her phone on her ear trying to communicate with her teammate. “Don’t worry, it was a rubber bullet,” she then reassured Nishimiya as she knew that the third-year already sympathised her and now she was worried that she might have killed someone during the Exchange Event.
“Most importantly, that light was Ultimate Cannon, right? But I can’t get in touch with Mechamaru. If he was cornered enough to use such a powerful technique, and now this, he most likely lost,” Mai informed her schoolmate as she was trying to relay information that she could assume since it was important to know the status of the Kyoto team right now.
“Panda will likely be returning, you should leave that spot and support everyone from the air. We’re all in trouble without you,” the Zenin member mentioned leading to the other person on the line to agree before she slowly uttered her name.
“It’s all right, Momo, I know,” Mai mentioned in a soft tone, trying to convey to her friend that it was alright before hanging up once Nishimiya got the message.
“What? Not going to call your friends?” someone yelled out as they stood on a branch, directly opposite to Mai at this current moment in time. “I don’t mind going two-on-one,” the second-year confidently stated with a smile on her face.
“There are many ways to enjoy this, right?” Mai asked before processing to stand up on her feet. “I could have everyone beat you together, but I’d like to enjoy you...by myself,” Mai declared as she raised her gun with a vexed expression displayed on her face as she faced her twin sister.
“Call me ‘Onee-chan,’ little sister,” Maki stated as she raised her katana.
However, before they could even start a fight another deafening explosion was heard causing them to turn in the direction to where it was heard, only to see a similar crescent-shaped wave of cursed energy flung into the air leading Mai to took at the scene with widening eyes as she slowly came to the realisation who was the cause of it.
“I think you should call Kamo and tell him to stop fighting with Gojo...it might lead him going to the hospital,” Maki mentioned before pushing herself forward to attack her sister.
‘If it’s you, then I wouldn’t mind at all Maki-san’
© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen imagine#jjk imagines#jjk imagine#gojo satoru#zenin maki#fushiguro megumi x reader#nishimiya momo#kugisaki nobara#zenin mai#kamo noritoshi#gojo satoru imagines#gojo satoru imagine#kugisaki nobara imagines#kugisaki nobara imagine#fushiguro megumi imagines#fushiguro megumi imagine#zenin maki imagines#zenin maki imagine#gojo satoru x reader#kugisaki nobara x reader#zenin maki x reader
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The Norwoods | Gen 2 - Edmund Norwood
Hey everyone, I’d like to introduce you guys to our new legacy heir (if you haven’t been following along already lol), Edmund. In this post I will be going over some new features and changes to how I am doing my LPs, as well as an intro into Edmund himself.
As a recap, Edmund will start off this LP by enrolling into Foxbury Institute pursuing a degree in Physics. The first couple posts will be of where he is staying, of course, so this features the remake of the dorm.
I have also gone ahead and made a Legacy Page, which directs you to family trees (WIP), plumbob tree, and links to the LP.
(new changes to the LP and blog, etc. are below the cut!)
Heya - glad you decided to check out this section. This area discusses some changes/ kept things relating to the LP and blog.
Keeping with the Program:
The first child (as long as they survive to adulthood because I have child deaths on) will be the next legacy heir
defaults will remain the same (can be found in resources)
family photos/ pics for important moments are still a must!
Keeping with the casual gameplay :)
New and Better Things:
I am now using a custom reshade of mine (will post dl if asked)
I am using @simkhira’s lifespan calculations instead of the previous keeping-track method.
So, instead things will go both fast (7-day span) and slow (long lifespan) at the same time
As of Edmunds’ start i have also adjusted everyones’ age to fit this ^^
I also followed along with JC Sims’ video on setting up MCCC
I have decided to include the Preteen Mod by ItsKatato - so there will be an additional ‘life-stage’, however, I have wedged this in the new timespan mentioned above
As of posting this, I have updated the mods that I’m currently using. I have greatly reduced what I was using before lol, so now I only have the basics
I fixed the Norwoods logo lol
Lastly, the way I’m taking the photos is a bit more constructed and less random lol
And lastly... I may change my blog theme? not a 100 on that but who knows. Anywho, thanks to those for reading this! Feel free to give a reblog to get more ppl onto the blog <3
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Happy Freyja Friday!!! 💖🎉😘
It's almost your actual one year anniversary with the freyby! What a beautiful journey and union you two have had 💞💞💞 to many more!!!
TWO sheds in two months?! Miss Thing is back to doing the most I see! How are you two faring these days? How's school treating ya?
Philly actually planted a lot of honey locust for beautification/urban green planning, and I've read/seen that you can take the seed pods and boil the sweet um goo (??? I'm not a scientist lol) out of them to make a natural plant-based sweetener! But, obviously all the seed pods I see have been crushed by cars and feet and rained on and peed on etc etc so that's a no go 😢
One day, my foraging dreams will come true lol have you seen Alexis Nikole Nelson's (aka the Black forager) content on social media? She's super awesome.
A feeble attempt was made to revive the book club but it's still pretty dead lol at least we have this 😘
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I made a dog fort out of our bed when it was really cold last month and Nova was hogging it the other day 😂
Happy Freyja Friday!!!
I’m actually on time chdhhdhdhdjskendbjdjf, absolutely insane!💀 it will be an entire year I’m just two days and I can’t cope! It feels like we’ve been with each other for a much longer time, and I’m just baffled at the fact that she grew to love me in just a year😳 it’s giving fall in love at a certain amount of time trope, if you know what I mean then you know! (I hope you do…) but still, thank you friend… you’re the sweetest evers!🥺❤️ and I want you to know that with every union, you’re also apart of it as you were there during the early days of my journey with this scaly girl c;
I still can’t get over the back to back shedding, and apparently neither can Freyja. Her beard has been dark during the process😅 anywho, I am doing okay. Between school, work, and having minor health issues going on I think I’m tackling things rather well. As for our girl, she’s a lot happier these days; we’re expanding her diet, and gathering accessories for her enclosure in hopes of sprucing it up! And she’s always warm despite the bitter winter biting us all in the rear before it’s officially spring. Seriously, thank goodness for ceramic heating!
Honey locus? I have to look that up, friend! I didn’t know that was a tree 🥺 very mesmerizing tree with a cool base and warm, autumn favored leaves… I want to see more of those! Philly has good taste. Got me romanticizing a type of tree 🤭 wait— so you’re saying that with this sweet goo that is extracted from these pods, you can make an organic sweetener?! That’s amazing 🤩 I hate that there’s no real opportunity to do that given that you’re living in a city where plant life/resources aren’t necessarily considered(?) Like, if it was cleaner and plants weren’t looked at as embellishments, then that it would totally be doable imo 🥺
I can’t wait to witness your foraging, I just know that it would bring me so much joy as a) you are doing your hobby and b) you’re sharing it with me and teaching me a few things along the way c; I can’t say that I heard about Alexis Nikole Nelson or any of her work but I’ll check it out whenever I can find some time ☺️
And 😭 rip to our bookclub! It was initially productive, and I loved being apart of it along with just hearing everyone’s perspectives on the material c: not to mention I totally bragged about it to my therapist at one point 🤭 it’s a flex, okay! I feel that there may be a revival period if someone finds a really good read 😂
That is soooo cute friend! A doggie fort sounds so cozy and I know for a fact that some cuddles took place 🥰 and of course Nova is basking in the comfort of it all, I really love that for her❤️ I hope Abbie and Lizzie are getting their turns whenever they can lolol and that Wallace and Heller are experiencing great comforts as well in their own feline way c: I feel like they probably squeeze their way into certain nooks and crannies that would incite a war if bothered or removed 😂😅
And of course, I hope Philly weather is being kind to you my good friend 🥰 hope you are feeling well and will continue to prosper in any way you see fit!
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This is a day after her second shed, she’s obsessed with resting here again for whatever reason c:
#badatwritingstuff💓#farfrompleasant#freyja friday#beardies i love#dogs i love#cats i love#stay warm ❤️
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