#seven gallery ║ the face of a hero
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excelsiorfics · 6 months ago
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excelsiorfics is proud to present our very first event, Janet Van Dyne Week 2024! Hosted from the 9th of June to the 15th, we invite every lover of Marvel's smallest and mightiest Avenger to participate in this fan week!
All fanfiction written about this winsome lady will be reblogged here! Remember to tag your works with #excelsiorfics and #janetweek2024, and we'll make sure to get to it! Our friends over at @comicedit will be reblogging all the wonderful edits and gifs you might end up making.
Keep in mind while explicit, darker material is allowed, this blog will function on the same rules as always, which is no incestous or pedophilic dynamics. We will not reblog or engage with material that depicts these. Alternate Universe/non-canon works are encouraged and accepted, but as always we ask everything be comic-based. MCU material won't be reblogged!
Our prompts for the week are;
Day One (9th June): Family/Friends -> from the Avengers, to her adopted daughter Nadia, to her extended loved ones, this is all about the people closest to Janet.
Day Two (10th June): Heroism -> Janet is one of earth's premiere and most beloved heroes, and today is the day to explore just how good she is at it! From her own fights to the people she has inspired over the years, this is all about what makes Janet the hero she is.
Day Three (11th June): Villains/Evil -> Janet has her own gallery of rogues, from the Creatures of the Kosmos to Whirlwind - this is all about the foes our winsome Wasp has faced over her 60 years of publication!
Day Four (12th June): Justice/Courage -> These are things that define Janet Van Dyne the most, and now is the time to celebrate her sense of justice, her infallible courage.
Day Five (13th June): Love -> Janet has quite a few people dear to her heart, from her long-standing partnership with Hank Pym, to her blossoming romance with Tony Stark, or her love for her adopted daughter, Nadia, or her love for Bobbi Morse, Wanda Maximoff, Scott Lang and more, this is all about the people she loves the most.
Day Six (14th June): Leadership/Trailblazer -> Janet Van Dyne has been a chairwoman, a leader, an inspiration. Someone other people look up to, and this is all about exploring what makes her a fantastic leader, and her status as one of Marvel's First Ladies!
Day Seven (15th June): Free Day! -> What it says on the tin! Go absolutely Hogwild for today!
Our team at EF is beyond excited for what’s to come. We hope you join us and help celebrate Marvel’s smallest but fiercest heroine this June :) Any and all questions can be forwarded to our ask box.
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thecreaturecodex · 2 years ago
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Rakshasa Immortal, Korittunni
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“The Mouse King” © deviantArt user MalakiaLaGatta, accessed at her gallery here
[”The Nutcracker and the Mouse King” by ETA Hoffmann is much darker and weirder than the more famous ballet it inspired. It’s mostly to do with the machinations between rival magical kingdoms and the Mouse King’s extortion racket for Christmas presents. As opposed to the ballet, which is fully half plotless dances based on ethnic stereotypes. I do enjoy Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker, but let’s be honest. The Mouse King in the story is much more monstrous, having seven heads. For practical reasons, this is usually dropped from adaptations. A Soviet animated version compromised with three heads, and designs with that number are much more common than the full set.
The character has no name in the original story, just a title. We do get his mother’s name: Mouserinks. She’s the one who cursed the prince into being a nutcracker in the first place, and the Mouse King is hunting him to prevent him from turning back. My name for the character is derived from a Tamil word meaning rat or mouse. Since I’m making him a rakshasa, and different adaptations vary in what species he’s supposed to be, I figured that it was appropriate. The flavor text may draw some inspiration from the recent OGL unpleasantness.]
Rakshasa Immortal, Korittunni The Mouse King, The Rat King Concerns greed, gluttony, rodents Domains Animal, Evil, Law, Trickery Subdomains Fear, Fur, Greed, Tyranny Worshipers evil ratfolk, extortionists, misers, wererats Minions rakshasas, rat kings, swarms Unholy Symbol seven crowns stacked in a triangle Favored Weapon rapier Obedience gorge yourself on fine food and drink for 1 hour. Despoil any leftovers so no one else may benefit from them. Gain a +4 profane bonus on saves against disease Boons 1: summon swarm 2/day; 2: hunger for flesh 2/day; 3: heroes’ feast 2/day
Rakshasa Immortal, Korittunni CR 21 LE Outsider (native) This humanoid stands smaller than a human and has seven rodent heads, arrayed facing in all directions. They are clad in a fancy military dress uniform, carry a fine saber, and wear a crown on each of their heads.
Korittunni the Mouse King is one of the least of the rakshasa immortals, but that does not make him any less dangerous or destructive. He is obsessed with things: taking them from other people and destroying them if he cannot take them. No object is below his acquisitiveness; he enjoys stealing toys and candy from children as much as he does jewels or magical items from the wealthy and powerful. He rarely works alone, and surrounds himself with sycophantic ratfolk, ver, wererats and other rodent-like humanoids. Most of his elite agents are other rakshasas, typically with rodent features in their natural form.
Korittunni often is the one to initiate hostilities, but if he can take what he wants through intimidation, trickery or mind-controlling magic, he does so before fighting. His teeth are strong and powerful, but he usually fights with a dueling sword. He is a master of bardic magic, weaving spells and magical dance together in order to augment his own abilities and those of any of his minions. Korittunni often leaves his victims alive but humiliated, cursed or polymorphed, as a warning to others who would cross him.
The Mouse King’s kingdom is a vast subterranean city, from which he plots robbery and extortion. Many criminal gangs pay him protection money, and in turn he helps to supply them with tools and talent from his own reserves. And doesn’t just wipe them out and steal from them. Korittunni is a dangerous partner, however, as he will often make the terms and conditions of his deals more and more restrictive, until his allies are little more than slaves. He can be charming when he wants to, but his default mode of expression is to threaten and bully. He is something of a mama’s boy and speaks fondly of his own mother, although whether she actually literally existed as he describes, or is a composite character based on dozens of reincarnations, is mysterious.
Korittunni is only two feet tall, but no less dangerous for his size. He always carries a magic rapier capable of stealing magical defenses and a rod of splendor.
Korittunni           CR 21 XP 409,600 LE Small outsider (native, rakshasa) Init +14; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception +29, scent Defense AC 38, touch 22, flat-footed 27 (+1 size, +10 Dex, +1 dodge, +14 natural) hp 420 (29d10+261) Fort +17, Ref +26, Will +22 DR 20/epic and piercing; Immune death effects, disease, petrifaction, poison, polymorph; Resist acid 20, cold 20, electricity 20, fire 20, sonic 20; SR 36 Defensive Abilities all-around vision, evasion Offense Speed 30 ft., climb 20 ft. Melee +3 spellstealing rapier +43/+38/+33/+28 (1d4+9/15-20), 7 bites +35 (1d4+3) or 7 bites +40 (1d4+6) Special Attacks bardic performance (59 rounds/day, swift action, countersong, deadly performance, dirge of doom, distraction, fascinate, frightening tune, inspire competence +6, inspire courage +4, inspire greatness, inspire heroics, soothing performance, suggestion), detect thoughts (DC 35), voracious Spell-like Abilities CL 20th, concentration +31 (+35 casting defensively) At will—bestow curse (DC 25), contagion (DC 25) 3/day—greater command (DC 26), greater teleport, nightmare (DC 26), quickened phobia (DC 27), ravenous rodents 1/day—demand (DC 29), mass hunger for flesh (DC 28), polymorph any object (DC 29), prediction of failure (DC 29) Spells CL 20th, concentration +31 (+35 casting defensively) 6th (7/day)—mass cat’s grace, mass cure moderate wounds (DC 27), greater scrying (DC 27), irresistible dance (DC 29), pied piping (DC 29) 5th (7/day)—cloak of dreams (DC 28), greater dispel magic, mind fog (DC 28), nightmare (DC 28), seeming (DC 26) 4th (7/day)—dominate person (DC 27), freedom of movement, hold monster (DC 27), legend lore, pessimism (DC 27), sleepwalking suggestion (DC 27) 3rd (7/day)—cure serious wounds (DC 24), fear (DC 24), glibness, haste, mass feather step, sculpt sound 2nd (8/day)—blur, gallant inspiration, heroism, invisibility, quick change, silence (DC 22) 1st (8/day)— charm person (DC 24), comprehend languages, cure light wounds (DC 22), identify, saving finale, undetectable alignment 0th—detect magic, ghost sound (DC 21), light, lullaby (DC 23), prestidigitation, read magic Statistics Str 23, Dex 31, Con 28, Int 25, Wis 22, Cha 32 Base Atk +29; CMB +34; CMD 55 Feats Combat Casting, Combat Expertise, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Extra Performance, Greater Spell Focus (enchantment), Improved Critical (rapier), Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Mobility, Quicken SLA (phobia), Spell Focus (enchantment), Spring Attack, Step Up, Whirlwind Attack Skills Acrobatics +31, Appraise +25, Bluff +36, Climb +32, Diplomacy +18, Disguise +40, Escape Artist +31, Intimidate +29, Knowledge (arcana, engineering, dungeoneering, local) +25,  Knowledge (planes) +27, Perception +29, Perform (act, dance) +32, Sense Motive +27, Spellcraft +25, Stealth +35, Swim +24, Use Magic Device +29; Racial Modifiers +4 Bluff, +8 Disguise, +2 Perception Languages Common, Goblin, Infernal, Senzar, telepathy 300 ft. SQ change shape (humanoid or rodent, polymorph), rakshasa lord traits Ecology Environment urban and underground Organization unique Treasure triple standard (rod of splendor, +3 spellstealing rapier, other treasure) Special Abilities Bardic Performance (Su/Sp) Korittunni can use bardic performances as a 20th level bard. Rakshasa Immortal Trait (Ex/Su) Korittunni is a rakshasa immortal, a powerful unique outsider capable of granting spells. This also grants him the following abilities
Immunity to death effects, disease and poison
Resist acid, cold, electricity, fire and sonic 20
DR/epic
Telepathy 300 ft.
Korittunni’s natural weapons, as well as any weapons he wields, are treated as epic, lawful and evil for the purposes of overcoming damage reduction.
Ravenous Rodents (Sp) This spell functions as a creeping doom spell, except that the swarms summoned appear as rats and mice. The swarms have the animal type instead of the vermin type, and do not have the poison special attack. Instead, they gain the voracious ability (see below) and deal damage to unattended objects in their area as well. This is the equivalent of a 7th level spell. Spells Korittunni casts spells as a 20th level bard. Voracious (Ex) Korittunni’s bite attacks deal double damage to creatures with the plant subtype, and to objects made out of plant materials such as paper, wood and most cloth.
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handoverthekawaii · 1 year ago
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We Go Together | Homelander x You | Chapter 25
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Taglist: @hom3landr @theaudacitytowrite
After months of waiting, you and John are just one night’s sleep away from the big day — tomorrow, John will finally face Vought in court for the first day of the civil bench trial.
The legal proceedings have dragged along, with victories scored on each side. In one clash, Vought managed to convince the judge to institute a gag order on the involved parties until after the verdict. BUT, Em’s firm tracked down one of Madelyn Stillwell’s former secretaries, who is more than willing to share how much time her boss was spending keeping America’s favorite hero satisfied when he first debuted in The Seven.
Alvarez and his colleagues spent weeks reading box after box of discovery materials, practicing oral arguments, and prepping John to testify about his illegal contract with Vought. When you and John leave the law office for the day, you feel confident that there’s nothing more to be done to prepare. From here, you have no choice but to let the legal process play out, and to hope that the court can see through Vought’s conniving ways.
But John is still nervous — he won’t admit it, but you can tell by the way he keeps clenching and releasing your hand as you walk up the street toward a nearby park. It is nearly the end of summer now, so much warmer and sunnier than when you first started working at Vought back during spring. Now, it’s the perfect time of year to stay out a little late on the town, cut loose, and maybe take a step outside both your comfort zones.
Which is how a couple hours later, John ends up sitting on a barstool beside you, getting ready to participate in a trivia competition at a local Irish pub. He’s never been comfortable drinking — too many opportunities to make a truly catastrophic drunken mistake. Instead, you and he split an appetizer of pretzels and dip while you wait for the first question.
It took him months to be confident visiting public places, even disguised with street clothes and sunglasses. All summer long, he worried that someone would stop to squint at him and say, “You look familiar…” but it never happened. John is realizing that most people don’t gawk at each other the way they used to gawk at Homelander.
As it turns out, having a secret identity has its perks..
With a deep knowledge of American history, current events over the last twenty years, and Vought International’s many pop-culture offerings, John proves himself a standout trivia contestant. You can barely keep up, dropping a semi-confident answer here and there, but your efforts combined land you in third place when the scores are tallied. A perfectly respectable score, you and John reassure one another — and, next time, you’ll probably win the whole thing!
Now, sure, John makes a show of rolling his eyes and insisting to the bartender that he’s only here because of YOU. But in truth, he knows that you insisted on coming to take his mind off the proceedings tomorrow.
And it’s working, John thinks to himself. He won’t allow himself to fully relax until the trial is over but, at least for now, he can feel the weight on his chest lightening and his mood lifting.
All thanks to you — YOU made that happen for him.
He loves you so much that it hurts. And when you get home for the night, he’s going to tell you — no, he’s going to SHOW you — just how fucking much you mean to him.
“All rise!” the bailiff shouts, announcing that the judge is entering the courtroom to begin hearing the case of John Gillman v. Vought International Co.
Glancing around as you sit back down, you can’t help but be astounded by the array of people assembled in the courtroom today. Alvarez and John are seated at the plaintiff’s table, the captain of The Seven wearing his Homelander uniform for the first time in months. You, Em, and other staff from the law firm are lined up in a row of chairs behind the plaintiff’s table.
More of John’s supporters sit in the public gallery benches. Many of them are strangers — like the college kids wearing #freehomelander shirts — but there are also a couple familiar faces. Black Noir is standing in the back of the courtroom, and Translucent’s disembodied voice whispered a greeting as you and John exited the elevator.
No cameras are permitted in the courtroom, but the rest of the seats are filled with journalists, from NNC and the New York Times and USA Today, phones at the ready to start live tweeting once the proceedings begin.
Then there’s the opposing counsel, a small army of grey suits from Vought’s Legal Division flanking Madelyn Stillwell herself. She tried to approach John when she first saw him, but Alvarez heroically jumped in and herded the executive back to her seat.
No Stan Edgar today, though — the bastard must not think it’s worth his time to be here, John thinks to himself angrily as the judge takes a seat at the bench.
We’ll see about that, won’t we, Stan? [continued on AO3]
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alwayslosingtheplot-blog · 7 months ago
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Alsea of Alseid
I changed my mind, I'm doing the extra bits! (it's okay to judge me. I judge me.) This is just for informing Alseid, and the islands off the monster-filled super continent world idea I'm working on. I'm not going to include these as official 'parts'.
The City of Alsea
Alsea is the first city, and its people take pride in its history and importance as such. It has not been without war and has scars of past sieges and battles, but it's inland and elevated location make it perfect for defense.
Alsea is run by a council instead of a single family - although to be a council member your family has to come from one of the great heroes of the city's past. This might be an ancient ruler, an elevated warrior or a poet. I'm thinking that poets, historians and judges will be interchangeable like with the ancient Celts. The council must elect and expel at least one member family every seven years and a single person can only serve a single term.
Although most members work as clerks for their older relations for most if not all of their term, learning the ins-and-outs of running the city and the nation- before joining themselves. It is considered highly presumptuous and rude for a newly minted family to take any vote for the entire of their first term except in instances of military decisions or as a tie-breaker. The council always has 25 members.
Alsea has some of the only museums to be found in all of the isles outside of Potamides. It also has a huge temple and an art gallery which is always open to the public.
Children from outside the city are brought to a housed school while they are being educated. Children from the city are allowed to return home to sleep unless they fail to meet strict rules, or do not have a home, in which case they are also brought in. This is considered shameful either way.
While in military training, the boys are separated from the girls. The girls learn more about defensive tactics, while the men learn more about offensive. (The girls learn how to use a sword, but also how to destroy the city gates in case of attack). There is a secret third class which is mixed, but is for spies and assassins.
The idea behind training all of the children together is to foster communal spirit and for the common folk to feel closer and more involved in government rulings. However, most of the time the children of higher status families are treated differently and given separate, extra lessons to ensure their success.
Another value of Alsean life is cleanliness. The city has a festival every year and every person is encouraged to spent the day cleaning their own space (even those who have maids) and to end the day with a bath.
There are huge public baths in the city, from ornate and beautiful to small and functional. Every neighborhood has it's own area to bathe, even the poorest. It is a part of welcoming a stranger into your home to clean their face and hands and offer them a spirit cleansing tea so they may be renewed and refreshed.
Fresh herbs are grown on many window boxes in the city from frugal families who wish to save money on soap and perfumes. There is a fashion to these things and scents go in and out of vogue every year (although lavender is considered a stable).
The river has many fish inside it but fishing in the city is rare. The water way is usually quite busy with training for naval maneuverers, and there is a slight association with fish being a 'poor man's food'. Fish is consumed in the city, but usually it is from the sea or out in the country lake's and brought in.
Most of the food comes from the surrounding hamlets and farmlands. There are a small number of orchards, primarily grown for making alcohol like cider instead of fruit to eat.
There are quite a few parks and gardens inside the city, often lined with decorative trees. Part of the care and maintenance of these gardens falls to the new recruits for the military. At 12, the main concern of their instructors in developing discipline and routine, so they are awoken at dawn and given instructions to clean and care for the parks.
Other than the parks, there are many training grounds for weapons training and libraries for reading and learning military strategy from the past.
There is one library that is off limits to most of the populace. This library is only accessible to lawyers, their trainees, government officials and their clerks, military officers and a few recruits who have been selected for their promise.
Another library is that belonging to the temple and only accessible to fully-fledged priestesses from the temple. Nearly all religions and monasteries are primarily female focused due to the belief that women are the guardians and purveyors of culture.
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msweebyness · 1 year ago
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Class of Heroes AU: When Will My Life Begin?
Weeby’s back at it again with another songfic! Here we’re getting a glimpse into what Adripunzel’s life was like before he came to Francois Prep! Enjoy! As always, credit to @imsparky2002 and @artzychic27!
The sun was just beginning to rise over the jagged clifftops, illuminating the lush green clearing, so hidden away from the world. In the center of this clearing rose a tall, stone tower. On the windowsill of this tower, a snake with luminescent teal scales quickly slithered behind a flowerpot. Hearing footsteps approaching, the snake’s scales quickly changed colors to match the bright flowers painted on the sides of the pot. His slitted eyes glanced askance in wariness back towards the window, breathing a hissing sigh of relief when the footsteps seemed to stop.
“AHA!”, was the sudden cry of a boy with a long cascade of golden hair and brilliant green eyes as he suddenly threw open the wooden panels that sealed the window, gaining a sly look when he didn’t see his scaly playmate.
“Well!…”, he said loud enough for the snake to hear, “I guess Sass isn’t hiding out here…”, the boy went on to say as he began walking away from the window, a trick up his sleeve.
Falling for the boy’s fakeout, the snake chuckled smugly….only for a lock of hair to wrap around his tail and snatch him up from his hiding spot, putting him face-to-face with his grinning human companion.
“Gotcha!”, Adrien declared proudly, startling Sass enough that his scales regained their natural color, “That’s twenty-two for me!”, as he lowered the snake to set back on the windowsill, “How about twenty-three out of forty-five?”
Sass gave him a unimpressed look coupled with a disgruntled hiss. Rolling his eyes, Adrien pushed himself up to sit on the windowsill, giving a pointed look to his reptilian friend, “Okay, well, what do you wanna do?”
Perking up and practically vibrating with excitement at the question, Sass jabbed his tail toward the clearing outside the tower, Adrien quickly figuring out what he was suggesting and shaking his head.
“You’re kidding, right?”, the boy asked the snake as he lifted the creature up onto his lap, “I like it in here, and so do you!”
Sass just gave Adrien the flattest, most judging stare imaginable on the face of a small reptile, before sticking his forked tongue out at him.
“Come on, you know what father would say if I tried going outside, especially without his permission!”, the golden-haired boy coaxed, “And besides, it’s not SO bad in there!”, Adrien assured both Sass and himself as he pushed back off the windowsill and walked back into his tower home, his hair trailing behind him.
Still…he couldn’t help wondering…was there really nothing else besides this?
Seven AM, the usual morning line-up:
With as cheerful a smile as he could manage, Adrien swung his hair over a lever, giving it a yank to open the tower’s sunroof and illuminate the room he had lived in his entire life. He had never really known anything outside of this space, but he supposed it didn’t bother him…most of the time, at least…
Start on the chores and sweep 'til the floor's all clean
Adrien paused a moment with the broom to lift up his long hair, pushing the dust he’d been sweeping underneath it towards the pan.
Polish and wax, do laundry, and mop and shine up
Sweep again
And by then, it’s like 7:15
Adrien knew that his father would be displeased if he hadn’t completed his daily chores before he got home, so he made sure the tower was spic-and-span, as he did every day. For as exhausting as it was, it didn’t take as long as he hoped it would…
And so I'll read a book or maybe two or three
To be completely fair, Adrien actually only owned three books, one about astronomy, one about different plants and a cookbook. He couldn’t tell you how many times he’d read them, but they were good books!
I'll add a few new paintings to my gallery
You could call Adrien something of an artist, as evidenced by the paintings that lined the walls of his tower, bright and colorful images on every possible surface, representations of his wishes and dreams.
I'll play guitar
Adrien would be the first to admit that musical instruments weren’t his strongest suit, but he had managed to pick up a few chords! Now, if only he could play them in the right order!
And knit!
Adrien was fairly sure that his current project was originally meant to be a scarf, but he’d kind of grown uncertain once it had passed the six foot mark…
And cook!
Adrien’s eyes shot open as a smoky aroma crept across the room. He had left the stew he made for lunch on the stove! Quickly darting over, he moved the pot off the burner.
And basically, just wonder when will my life begin?
As Adrien moved away from the stove, he spied the clock once more and sighed that he still had so much of the day left to fill in this tower.
Then after lunch it's puzzles
Adrien smiled to himself as he completed his favorite puzzle for the seventeenth time in the last two months. It was so satisfying to see the finished picture. A big blue sea under an open sky…it just looked like freedom.
And darts!
It had taken him quite a bit of work, but Adrien had finally perfected his throw, hitting the bullseye nearly every time! …At least he thought he was, the board was pretty worn from having so many darts thrown at it.
And baking!
Adrien struggled to balance the four plates of cookies he had just taken out of the oven! With any luck, these would last him at least three days. (Sass sure liked his cookies!)
Papier-mâché
Sass hissed with displeasure as the giant, wonky-looking plaster of Adrien’s head moved towards him. Perhaps this particular craft endeavor was time that could be better spent…
A bit of ballet
Adrien would have perfected his pirouette long ago…were it for the fact that he got tangled up in his own hair nearly every time! If only he could keep it out of his way!
Then chess!
For a snake with no limbs, Sass could play the board well! He and Adrien had been at a steadfast tied number of wins for the past several months!
Pottery
Adrien smiled as Sass helped him to pattern the pot he had fashioned by dragging his tail across the clay to create elaborate swirls.
And ventriloquy
Now, perhaps a snake wasn’t the most ideal option to use for a ventriloquist dummy, but Sass did his best to go along with the show, and Adrien appreciated him for that!
Candle making…
Adrien supposed this could be said to be one of his favorite hobbies, given the vast collection he had amassed. Various shapes, heights and scents littered the floor around his wax pot. Maybe he ought to actually use some of these…
Then I'll stretch
As Adrien bent down to touch his toes, loosening up his joints, he spied a spot in one of his paintings that could use a little touching up to be honest!
Maybe sketch
Taking out his trusty paint set, Adrien added a few details he thought were missing to the painting, his favorite one to be honest.
Take a climb!
One of Adrien’s personal favorite workout activities was to climb around every alcove of his tower using his hair as a rope. Said hair being so long, he barely even felt it!
Sew a dress!
Adrien had a couple dolls from when he was a kid, and while their faces and hair may have been worn down, no one could deny they wore beautiful little gowns.
And I'll re-read the books if I have time to spare
With a heavy sigh, Adrien took his three books off their shelf once more, flopping down on his bed as he skimmed the pages once again, hoping to maybe spot some new detail he hadn’t before.
I'll paint the walls some more, I'm sure there's room somewhere
Given that Adrien had been painting these walls for fourteen years now, it stood to reason that he was rather quickly running out of room to add new material…
And then I'll brush and brush, and brush and brush my hair
If there was one benefit to having over fifty feet of hair, Adrien thought, it was that brushing was a good way to kill time when time was all you had. Didn’t make it entertaining to do though…
Stuck in the same place I've always been
With a heavy sigh, Adrien finally finished combing out all his golden locks, before slumping against the rafter he was currently sitting on, wishing to see the sun begin to set.
And I'll keep wonderin' and wonderin', and wonderin', and wonderin'
When will my life begin?
Dashing in circles around the room with all his hair bundled in his arms, Adrien tossed it out to fall in a large spiral around him as he looked around his tower home.
Remembering what day it was, he moved over to the window and leaned out, gazing at the sky.
Tomorrow night the lights will appear
Just like they do on my birthday each year
Resting his chin on his hand, he could already picture the beautiful little specks of color, drifting up into the sky. Where did they come from? What were they for? He wanted to know more than anything!
What is it like out there where they glow?
Turning back around, he moved back into his tower, looking once again at his favorite painting, an image depicting the floating lights, shimmering in the sky over a forest. Suddenly, he felt that something was…missing.
Now that I'm older, father might just let me go…
With a wistful smile, Adrien finished the detail he had to add. The likeness of a boy with long golden hair, sitting in a tree and watching the lights in the sky. If only….
“Adrien, let down your hair~!”
Hearing the familiar call, Adrien quickly dashed over the window, slinging his long hair over the iron hook just outside.
“Coming, father!”
And there you have it folks! Let me know what you think as always! Next time, Aladdix will be staying One Jump Ahead! And keep an eye out for Part 2 of this little saga from Sparky! Faaaather….knows best!
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heedra · 2 years ago
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Exalted Secret Santa Journal: 2022!
That time of year rolls around again! For your perusal this year: three funny women.
DAIA SHAN, Serenity Caste Sidereal Visual Refs: Best ref Image Gallery
Intro: Once just a troublesome junior bureaucrat in the halls of Yu-Shan, Daia truly gained infamy upon her selection to accompany a strike team of Exalted heroes on a mission into the depths of the worldbody of the Yozi Oramus, and her subsequent escape and return from that impossible prison, nearly a thousand years later. The experience left her profoundly changed; even now, the spite of Oramus hangs like a mantle around Daia, ensuring that the waking world she fought so hard to return to will never feel like anything more than a dream. And then, of course, there is the matter of the power she took from the Sevenfold Peacock willingly… and how that power might be changing her still. Visual Details: Daia is a somewhat petite woman, belying an athletic build. She is ethnically from the Blessed Isle, with dark grey hair that she prefers to wear up, usually in a bun or a knot. Her face, which she tries but fails to keep free of stress and worry lines, is usually found bearing a smirk or an expression of dangerous faux-politeness. Her eyes bear the iconic starry blue of the Serenity caste, but are also shot through with bands of a strange prismatic iridescence. She bears a large pair of bull horns atop her head, a mutation received during her time inside the Worldbody. The nature of the power bequeathed to her by Oramus is such, though, that her very nature is beginning to blur around the edges, and it is not unusual for her day-to-day appearance to fluctuate strangely as mutations come and go like glitches- please feel welcome to have fun with this if you want! She is a bit of a fashionista, favoring blues, dramatic and sharp femme looks (she avoids ruffles and prefers sleeker outfits), and jewelry of all sorts (a lot of it). She rarely wears the same exact outfit twice, so do not feel obligated to stick to the reference- you can get creative! She wears makeup, preferring cool colors and a sharp but understated application.
Daia’s most important accessory is her cursed longfang, the Sevenfold Peacock’s Tailfeather. Forged from starmetal, orichalcum, and a crystalline shard of Oramic essence, the weapon contains knowledge of every martial arts technique known by every user to have ever wielded it, and seems to hunger for more to the point where its obsession has bled over into Daia herself. Even more potently, it bears deep within its core the secret to a martial art concocted by the Dragon of Not himself, whose charms grant the power to ignore the limits of impossibility at the cost of making the wielder more and more alien to the waking world. It is a temptation that Daia has drunk deep of, despite all signs pointing to that being a very bad idea. Daia sees the spear as a trophy stolen from her greatest nemesis, but it’s very possible the Yozi himself sees it as a clever snare for hubristic Sidereals. The blade of the weapon is prismatic crystal that resembles a jagged bird’s beak, the pole is jet black starmetal shot through with an orichalcum starmap of constellations, and the orichalcum pommel is fashioned to look like seven golden peacock feathers woven together into a sphere. Personality Details:
While her exaltation may brand Daia a chosen of the Maidens, the elder Sid is a loose cannon, an agent of Heaven in only the most general of terms. She is mercurial, theatrical, fond of causing petty chaos, and utterly disinterested in the politics of the Bureau, unless there is way for her to stir up drama. She has tendency to get ahead of herself with her schemes, and the vast majority of her ‘downfalls’ can be traced back to her own hubris. Beneath all that, she is an extremely lonely woman who feels adrift in a world that no longer feels real to her. She’s a terrible flirt, a huge showoff, and has a weak spot for dangerous women. She’s Creation’s wildest and worst gay aunt.
Side Note: Daia is partially deaf, due to an old and potent supernatural injury. She employs the use of what magic/technology she can to aid her, but relies as well on sign language and interpreters. She’s very used to it at this point. ------------------------------------------------------- I BITE THE FEET OF KINGS, Full Moon Lunar
Visual Refs: This sketch is missing her antennae but is otherwise my favorite i've done of her Image Gallery rough sketch of possible warform
Intro: Once content to be a potter in the city of Lathe, until social exile cast her out into the winds of fate to her eventual exaltation, the drifter known loosely as I Bite the Feet of Kings has several deep seated reasons to distrust the intentions of other people. She spends most of her time in the shapes of various other social animals, living with them among their herds, packs, and hives, finding her company with the things of the field and forest. When she does deign to return to her human form, it is usually to sew chaos and discord. She despises the haughty and the powerful above all, and loves to be a thorn in their side wherever she travels, whether through trickery and gossip, through direct humiliation, or through trouble delivered in animal form; a plague of locusts here, a swarm of ants there. Besides this troublemaking, though, she tends to stay aloof from the world of man; she has better company to choose from, after all. Those that do find themselves in the rare position to socialize with her find her a wry, bitter cynic, blunt and hard to start conversations with unless she is gleefully undermining whatever point they are trying to make or ranting at length about how much better ants are than people. Visual Details: Bite is a tough, wiry woman of unremarkable height, with dusty, tanned skin and hair shaved close to her scalp in a prematurely-grey fuzz. Her forehead often bears a nubby pair of ant antennae; these aren't her tell, just a mutation she keeps around in human form by preference. She bears marks of past injury from having endured a long-term stint with Hansen's disease; blindness in her left eye, a collapsed nose bridge, and several missing digits (most of her index and middle finger on her left hand, her index and the tip of her thumb on the right, and a few toes). These are just normal aspects of her appearance, please avoid playing them up for in a way that treats them as lurid. She generally conceals her moonsilver tattoos, but when visible they evoke the joints and carapace of an insect. I have never settled on an exact reference for them, so feel free to get creative with them if you want to.
Clothingwise, Bite prefers earth tones, baggy pants and 'athletic' tops, and clothes that are comfortable to travel in. She generally goes barefoot. Her signature accessories are a wide-brimmed sunhat, a mandible-carved walking staff that she also uses in combat, and an enormous artifact clay gourd that she carries around, Gaara-style, which is home to her hive of leafcutter ants. She frequently retreats within the gourd, in ant form, when she needs to get away from other people for a while or take shelter. It also doubles as a weapon of its own, as she can deploy her ant comrades as a battlegroup when the need arises.
Her signature animal shape is a soldier-caste leafcutter ant, and her true tell is her blind left eye and the swelling around it. In her Hybrid form, her physique stays much the same, but terrible mandibles sprout from her jaw, jutting out past her lips, a second, insectoid pair of arms sprout from her torso, and her skin becomes patched with sections of red-brown carapace. Her antennae grow to their full size. In her Deadly Beastman form, she bursts forth fully insectile and covered in spiky red carapace, with a huge soldier-ant head, wicked curved mandibles, and powerful but sleek jointed limbs with strange proportions. Her warform isn't the hugest around, but it doesn't have to be to look completely terrifying. I have never nailed down exact designs for these, but feel welcome to play around in this space if that's something that sounds fun. Besides her core forms, her most frequently used animal shape is that of a little basenji-esque pariah dog. Other notable shapes include raiton, goose, meerkat, and river dolphin. All of her animal shapes belong to social or eusocial species. Personality Details: Bite tends to walk with a laid back, confident swagger, and rarely smiles unless it's to piss someone else off. She's often seen chewing on something; sunflower seeds, candied sweets, stalks of grass, or betel nut are common contenders. While she's quick to pick fights, she rarely does so to kill; preferring to humble or humiliate foes instead. She's a Laughing Monster Stylist, focused on dodging her opponents' blows and frustrating them with jabs, jibes and misdirection.
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SACHI
Visual Refs: extremely good face ref courtesy of my friend @ gyrium on tumblr! image gallery
Bio: Sachi was rescued at age 4 from the clutches of the monstrous death-witch, the Dowager of the Irreverent Vulgate in Unrent Veils, by a band of renegade deathknights, one of whom- a Dusk called Avenging Phoenix- would later, after becoming a Solar, become her adoptive father. Now grown up, she has also exalted, much to her dad's anxiety. A sorceror and passionate researcher of supernatural and spiritual ecology, Sachi hopes to create the first-ever comprehensive bestiary of Creation's spirit denizens. However, thanks in part to her father's tutelage, she's also very adept at hunting, binding, and destroying such creatures, if they pose a threat. Despite her magical expertise, she's kind of a meathead, with a passion for getting herself into trouble at a moment's notice. Visual Details: Sachi is tall and gangly, with a long face, and her skin is a light, warm bark-brown, dotted with loads of freckles. She has long, forest-green hair that she likes to wear in a variety of braids, ponytails, and buns; she always ties it back somehow, though, as she can't stand it getting in her face. An angler fish lure pokes out right above her forehead- a consequence of an accidental dunk in wyld-tainted waters while on an adventure. Its bulb seems to change color from time to time, though she's just as perplexed as to why as anyone else is. She tends to wear gear that can handle the wear and tear of the great outdoors, but also really enjoys bright embroidery, cozy, quilted layers, and skirts. She'll also always be the first one to wear something goofy just for the novelty of it. She tends to carry around a journal, a set of writing tools, and a bag of sorcerous bits and bobs with her, as well as her weapon, an artifact orichalcum powerbow (feel free to play around with it's design if you draw it; it had no evocations and was a pretty straightforward weapon). She is prone to taking new familiars whenever the opportunity arises, so it's not unusual to see her chilling with a demon or walking around with some kind of weird animal under one arm. Personality Details: Sachi is extremely friendly, highly enthusiastic, and prone to speaking and acting impulsively. She laughs loudly and deeply, swears like a sailor, smiles easily, and is the worst friend to ever have around if you need someone to talk you out of doing something stupid (and always the first to accept wild dares herself). Being kidnapped and raised underground by a Deathlord in her very early years has left her with some buried trauma, which generally manifests in abandonment and self worth issues she has to work through, and she clings tightly to the friends and loved ones she has. Despite her gung-ho attitude, she is a little intimidated with Solarhood and of the paths it may set her on; dark memories of past lives rumble their way to the surface, and the Dowager lurks out in the Noss Fens yet…she generally doubles down on hiding this anxiety beneath her cheerful outer persona.
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talltoontales · 7 months ago
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ToonMan #5: The Misadventures of Miss Adventure
Prompt: Not every member of the heroes Rouge's Gallery is a "bad guy."
Prompt By: ToonMan (Me)
Started Writing: 05/07/2024
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A young woman wearing an explorer’s outfit with curly red hair with a white streak tied in a ponytail hangs, tied upside-down in a giant sewer silo. Half of her face is trapped in a permanent shadow as her pearl-white eyes survey the multiple sewer tunnels.
“Helooooooo!” yells the woman. “Anybody home? Blood’s kinda rushing to my head over here!” Cackling echoes throughout the tunnels. The woman looks into the abyss below and watches as a horde of alligators begins to crawl up the silo walls. The woman turns toward the tunnel on her level, seeing a shadow on the far end.
“Ya lotta guts to be down here, missy,” a grizzly voice floods from the tunnel. “Yer either brave or foolhardy.”
“Why can’t I be a little of both?” asks the woman. The alligators laugh, as do the shadowy figure.
“What brings you down here, pray tell?” asks the grizzly figure as he slowly walks through the tunnel.
“I’m looking for a…one second,” the woman shifts around under the rope until she manages to slip a piece of paper through her binds. “I’m looking for a Captrain Scaleduggery, Mutant Pirate Lord of the Seven Sewers?”
“Woof, are ya sure ya got the right name there, lass?” asks the grizzly figure, “A dainty thing like yerself shouldn’t kahootin’ with the likes of him.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m far from dainty,” says the woman, “I’m Miss Adventure, the greatest adventurer the world has ever known.” The Alligators stop laughing as a deep growl shakes the silo. “I take it that you’ve heard of me?” A wave of water rushes into the silo as an oversized Gator man floats to the edge of the tunnel on an undersized raft. He wears an eye patch, a torn pirate coat about six sizes too small, and a metal lever for a peg leg.
“Eye, we’ve heard of ye,” says Scaleduggery, “If I had known we’d have such esteemed company, I would’a preheated me oven!” A red light emits from the bottom of the silo as the water begins to boil and rise. “Get the vegetables and broth, lads! We’re having Adventure Stew tonight!” The alligator crew cheers.
“Aw man, that sounds delicious,” says Miss Adventure, “Wish I could stay, but I’m on the clock, so—” The rope loosens, freeing Miss Adventure as she grabs onto it.
“Don’t let her escape! And someone get me flintlock!” orders Scaleduggery. The alligator crew leaps from the silo walls at Miss Adventure as she swings around on the rope, dodging and kicking away the cold-blooded combatants. One of the alligators is higher up on the rope, chewing on it.
“Oh boy,” says Miss Adventure. She frantically swings farther and faster until the rope snaps, flinging her toward a tunnel. She reaches out for the edge of the tunnel but barely misses. Only to be grabbed by another hand and pulled back up to find ToonMan waiting for her.
“Been a while,” says ToonMan. Miss Adventure gets to her feet and starts jabbing at ToonMan’s stomach, who doesn’t feel a thing.
“A while?! It’s been like years, ya paper-skinned pansy,” says Miss Adventure before hugging ToonMan.
“Pretty sure it’s just been a month,” says ToonMan, “but hey, I’m here now. What’s the job?”
“See Puffy the Alligator over there?” asks Miss Adventure as she points to Scaleduggery. “Need his leg and heads up, silos filling up with boiling sewer broth.”
“That’s it?” asks ToonMan.
-BOOM-
A cannonball flies right between the two heroes. The two look across the silo to see Scaleduggery holding a cannon under his pudgy arm.
“Ah! Ya land lubbers, lucky me aim ain’t what it used to be!” yells Scaleduggery. “Quick, load me up another one!” Miss Adventure glares at ToonMan.
“Still a world-class jinx, I see,” says Miss Adventure. Two alligators crawl into the heroes’ tunnel only to get punched out by ToonMan’s giant fist.
“Oh, don’t act like you hate the extra challenge,” says ToonMan as he leaps out of the tunnel, elongates his arm to the ceiling, grabs onto a metal grate, and swings towards Scaleduggery.
“Nu-uh, no, you don’t,” says Miss Adventure. She gets a running start and uses a rising alligator’s head as a launch pad to leap over ToonMan. He responds by catching Miss Adventure before she dives into the boiling water.
“Still a glory hound, I see,” says ToonMan.
“Glory’s all yours,” says Miss Adventure, “but the treasure, that’s all me, baby!” The two notice Scaleduggery load his cannon with one of his alligators. “You smellin’ what I’m cookin’?”
“Seeing as I can’t smell, probably not,” says ToonMan, “but I got an idea!” ToonMan winds back the arm, holding up Miss Adventure, flinging her straight up just as Scaeduggery fires his crewmate at him. ToonMan then let’s go of the grate, falling just under the flying alligator and grabbing onto its tail to pull him back across the silo.
As Miss Adventure falls back down, ToonMan stretches out his legs, kicking Miss Adventure across the silo at Scaleduggery.
“Aw muck,” says Scaleduggery. Miss Adventure kicks the oversized gator in his one good eye, knocking him over on his back. ToonMan lands in the other tunnel with the alligator crewmate, quickly knocking him out before checking on Miss Adventure. He finds her using Scaleduggery’s peg leg as a cane.
“Another ace in the hole!” says Miss Adventure.
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With a twirl of the lever, Miss Adventure inserts it into a slot and pulls it down. The two heroes look up at the “Captain Scaleduggery’s Sewer Ship Surf” carnival ride as the lights turn on and small boat carts move into a tunnel. Miss Adventure watches the ride run with a small grin as ToonMan walks up next to her.
“Looks like you’ve saved the day again, Ms. A,” says ToonMan, bumping into Miss Adventure with his shoulder.
“Couldn’t have done it without you, Tooney,” says Miss Adventure, bumping back into ToonMan. “I mean, I could’ve, but I’ll never say no to a team-up.” The two walk across the dying grass, surrounded by old booths and run-down rides.
“Gotta say, the place keeps getting better every time I swing by,” says ToonMan.
“Hey, someone’s gotta keep this place up and running,” says Miss Adventure. She claps her hands, and the rest of the theme park comes to life. Music plays, rides run and poorly made animatronics run through the motions of their carnival games. ToonMan looks around in awe.
“Wowza! You’ve really been putting in the work!” says ToonMan.
“Well, it’s like you’ve said,” Miss Adventure grabs an oversized mallet from a booth, swinging it over her shoulder. “it’s been a while!” She then slams the mallet into the ground. A test your strength game with a graveyard esthetic erupts from the ground with a loud *DING*. “Up and Adam!” ToonMan narrows his eyes, looking slightly towards the ground.
“I, uh, almost forgot,” says ToonMan, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulls out a small, wrapped box and hands it to Miss Adventure. “Happy Birthday.” Miss Adventure's eyes widen as she snatches the present from ToonMan’s hand. She tears through the wrapping, flinging the box lid to the side, finding a diamond-encrusted bracelet.
“Awww, Tooney!” says Miss Adventure, “You know the only treasures I like are in trap-filled caves and monster-filled dungeons.” She looks longer at the bracelet, noticing three letter charms that spell out “ACE.” Miss Adventure wipes her thumb across the bracelet as the shadow covering the top half of her face fades. Her vibrant orange hair fades to a pale peach, her skin begins to wrinkle, turning pale, and her overall posture worsens. “What was it Camila always said?” Miss Adventure turns around, appearing to have gone from mid-twenties to late sixties. “Free is the one word you can’t say no to.”
ToonMan walks over and gently hugs the older Miss Adventure.
“Hey, Ellie,” says ToonMan.
“Oh, ToonMan, it’s been too long,” says Ellie, returning the hug. “How are you? Did A.I.D. give you any trouble on the way in?”
“Nah, nah. They barely even noticed me,” says ToonMan. "I just wanted to stop in and check on you.”
“Aww,” says Ellie, “Are you sure I didn’t raise you?”
“Positive,” says ToonMan as he reaches for the charm bracelet. “May I?” Ellie lets ToonMan take the bracelet and put it on her wrist.
“How are my children doing these days?” asks Ellie, “I take it that this was Camila's idea?”
“She always wants you to look your best,” says ToonMan. He offers up his arm to Ellie, who interlocks it with hers as the two stroll around the amusement park. “Evan got promoted to district manager last month and got a pretty big bonus, too.”
“Oh bless,” says Ellie, “That boy deserves it. Hard worker, just like his mother!” The two continue their stroll, passing by mini-gofer golf. “How’s…Adam?”
“He’s better,” says ToonMan, “full recovery and out of the hospital, with a little help from A.I.D, and back home with Eve.”
“Eve?” asks Ellie. “I thought her name was Zarina?”
“No, Zarina’s the fiancé,” says ToonMan, “Eve’s your granddaughter.”
“Oh, Oh yes! Little Evee,” says Ellie, tightening her grip. “Oh, how could I forget that crooked grin? She gets that from her grandpa, you know. Would have had to put a girder in his mouth to fix those teeth! Oh, he’d have loved to see her!”
“Would…you like to see her?” asks ToonMan. Ellie looks up at ToonMan before looking back down and pulling away from him. “Ellie, please—”
“I can’t. There’s still so much to do, so much to fix,” says Ellie, color flowing back into her hair.
“Ellie, I promise it’ll still be here,” says ToonMan. Ellie’s posture straightens out as she starts to walk faster.
“I know it will,” says Ellie, “because I’m here.” Ellie leaps to the top of one of the tents, followed by ToonMan. “As long as I’m here, all of this will be too, and one day, I can bring lil’ Evee here and she can see—”
“She wants to see you!” says ToonMan. A young Ellie turns around to see ToonMan holding out a photo. Ellie takes it to see her three kids, their partners, and Eve at the center. “She’s tired of looking at pictures, and I know you are too.” ToonMan walks closer, putting Ellie’s hands in his. “Let me cure you. Let Miss Adventure go.” Ellie tightens her grip. Black ooze begins to flow from her hands and into ToonMan’s. Until it suddenly retracts back into Ellie, and she takes a few quick steps back.
“I’m sorry,” says Ellie, wiping her face. Miss Adventure looks at ToonMan, teary-eyed with a wide smile. “But someone needs to stop that dragon.” A bellowing roar echoes across the amusement park as a roller coaster transforms into a fire-breathing dragon. The beast rips a portal into a fantasy realm while also taking a large chunk of the track with it. ToonMan watches as Miss Adventure transforms into a knight. “What do ya say, Tooney? Up for another adventure?” ToonMan forces a smile and chuckles.
“Nah, I think You got this one covered,” says ToonMan.
“Suit yourself,” says Miss Adventure. She whistles, and one of the carousel horses transforms into a real Pegasus. Miss Adventurer hops off the tent and onto the mythical creature. “Don’t be a stranger and remember—” Miss Adventure soars off toward the portal. “—adventure waits for no one!” The portal closes the second Miss Adventure crosses into it.  ToonMan sighs as he slingshots out of the park, landing right outside the front gate.
Welcome to Misadventure’s
[RETIRED]
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Traveling Amusement Park
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Woo! Two in a roo0O0oow!
Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story!
If you have any comments, critiques, or criticisms, please don't be afraid to let me hear 'em (as long as they're constructive (or comical)). Also, if you have some spare time, check out my blog for more stories like this one.
Stay safe, drink plenty of water, and be kind to yourself and others.
ToonMan, AWAY!
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everythingkashmir · 8 months ago
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From Jack the Ripper to Sheikh Abdullah
By Faisul Yaseen
Passing by the narrow alleys of East London on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, I was awestruck by how London’s Whitechapel district remembers its anti-heroes.
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A walk by the colourful graffiti walls in the most unlikely of London’s landmarks, the East End, is a lesson in history.
Veteran journalist of the BBC fame, Andrew Whitehead, gave me and seven other journalists from India, Pakistan, and Sri Lanka a walking tour of the East End, situated east of the Roman and medieval walls of the City of London and north of the River Thames.
During the walk, he informed us about the legacy of the area that has over the past 300 years been home to Huguenots, Jews, and Bengalis and seen cultural as well as visual transformation beyond imagination.
It was fascinating to find out how anti-heroes and anarchists had over the years developed more than a cult following in the East End.
Entering a small by-lane near the Whitechapel Gallery, I was surprised to see two of my favourites, Leo Tolstoy and Noam Chomsky on a black-and-white billboard of 36 anarchist figures hanging from a red-coloured wall.
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Seeing the colourful graffiti and anarchist slogans shook me out of oblivion that despite better development and better policing compared to South Asia, there were people in London too who resent the state, the police, and the status quo.
The slogans of anarchism ‘Kill the cop, like kill them like sex f**k, like kill them f**k, just FYI. Boris would get it though’, ‘I don’t look sexy for your p**is’, ‘Not queer as in gay, queer as in f**k the Police’, ‘No Gods, no masters. All cops are bas****s.’ ‘Two-faced hypocritical, leeching, pancing, selfish, lowlife, scambags,’ ‘Hate cops, love donk’, ‘Tranquility, black magic, white angel, dead man walking, and ‘Pompey till I die’ clearly illustrated that these people want liberation from the “oppressive systems” of control from the state, religion, capitalism, racism, sexism, ableism, and speciesism.
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Taking a stroll inside the Freedom Bookshop and Publishing House, I found several books about anti-heroes and anarchists like ‘The Slow Burning Fuse: The Lost History of the British Anarchists’ and realised how the legend is woven in London’s literary landscape.
The graffiti outside the bookshop was so eye-pleasing that my fellow journalist and friend from India, Aman Sharma could not resist taking a photograph in front of it. I reckon it can be a good profile picture for his social media accounts.
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During the walk, we took a break for lunch and Sharma, two other fellow journalists from Pakistan Riaz-ul-Haq and Muhammad Iqbal Baloch along with me grabbed a lunch at East End’s bustling city centre. The aroma of fresh coffee along with the Indian, Chinese, Central Asian, and continental cuisine pointed at the rich diversity East End has to offer.
The openness of the people indulging in discussions over lunch exemplified why the anti-hero had become a legend in this area.
Returning to join the walk after lunch, I wondered how my native place Kashmir, a conflict-ridden region in the Himalayas, remembers its anti-heroes.
Sheikh Mohammad Abdullah, the former Prime Minister of Jammu and Kashmir, has a legendary status in the region for the radical land reforms of providing “land to the tiller”.
However, he is also held responsible for the sufferings of the people of Kashmir for the past 74 years as he helped Hindu but secular India in the accession of Muslim Kashmir following the division of the Indian subcontinent in 1947.
Pro-independence National Liberation Front founder Muhammad Maqbool Bhat, who was hanged to death on 11 February 1984 by the Indian government for carrying out multiple militant attacks is another anti-hero.
Kashmir’s most prominent secessionist leader Syed Ali Geelani, and militant leaders Ashfaq Majeed, Syed Salahuddin, Burhan Wani, and Zakir Musa are all anti-heroes in the region struggling for peace and stability.
Prime Minister of India, Narendra Modi has taken the status of an anti-hero to a new high.
Accused of allowing the state machinery to facilitate the killings of hundreds of Muslim men and the rape of Muslim women in the Gujarat riots of 2002, Modi has surprisingly risen to a stature where millions of Indian Hindus see him as a god.
Modi’s rise may be because people who shine as morally pure and upright no longer ring true to the masses, probably because we are not used to seeing such people around us.
Pop culture too has glorified the anti-heroes and anarchists, changing our attitude towards them.
Author Melissa De La Cruz writes, “We’re the villains you root for in the story.”
From listening to the stories of classical literary anti-hero Robinhood in childhood to watching my favourite TV show Mad Men’s main character Don Draper stealing the identity of his friend who died in the war in Korea, I have always rooted for the anti-hero, caring little about the moral compass.
But don’t all of us feel like that? Don’t we all like the Hulk, the Wolverine, and the Batman? Wasn’t Adam perhaps the first anti-hero? Didn’t he disobey God and instead pay heed to Eve for having the “forbidden fruit”? Don’t we like John Milton’s ‘Paradise Lost’ for its anti-hero, who was once an angel of light? Don’t people still lay flower wreaths at the altar of Julius Caesar? We may not like George Orwell’s Big Brother but isn’t he the anti-hero for ensuring order in society?
In today’s East End, a synagogue has been converted into a mosque as the Bangladeshi population has replaced the Jews who have migrated from the area indicating how Britain welcomes the immigrants. However, the image of a Muslim post-9/11 world is perhaps the new anti-hero.
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In today’s China, the Communist Party of China is the anti-hero for taking millions of impoverished people out of poverty over the past three decades. In Russia, Putin is the anti-hero for standing up against NATO’s “expansion”. The US is the anti-hero for standing up for the West while engaging in relentless wars.
Walking past ‘Jack the Chipper’, a fish and chip shop, Whitehead informed us that the shop was named after anti-hero ‘Jack the Ripper’, an unidentified serial killer active around 1888 in the city’s Whitechapel district.
The shop owner did not change its name despite public backlash and criticism. He instead offered a 50 percent discount to women as 'Jack the Ripper' had been involved in the brutal murders of many women.
We concluded our walk at the two tower blocks in Sidney Street – Peter House and Painter House. In September 2008, Tower Hamlets London Borough Council named the two tower blocks after ‘Peter the Painter’, evoking protest by a local councillor and the Metropolitan Police Federation saying that the killer should not be recognised.
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‘Peter the Painter’ or ‘Peter Piaktow’, whose actual name was Janis Zhaklis, was a member of the Latvian anarchist gang in the early 20th century. He escaped to Australia after the Sidney Street Siege in 1911 in which two of his three gang members were killed.
As we headed to our hotel, I realised how East End, despite criticism, keeps its anti-heroes alive and how anarchism is a way of life in the area. Some things live on, so do ideas.
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maswartz · 1 year ago
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How I'd do the DC Movies
Start with the JSA. Have the opening credits over newspaper stories about them. Like one is about Jay's accident before a paper with a story about the Flash covers it, same with Alan's train crash and a story about the Green Lantern. Members would be Flash, Green Lantern, Wildcat, Hawkman, Hawkwoman, Hourman, Sandman and Black Canary. Story is about punching Nazis and stopping them from finding a super weapon implied to be from Apokolips Final scene has one of them, now old, talking about the good old days and if those days would ever come again. Cue scene of Krypton exploding, the Waynes being murdered and Diana being formed from clay. Superman: Man of Tomorrow- Based on Birthright with Lex faking a Kryptonian invasion Post Credits has Lex looking at a blood sample he managed to get during the battle either setting up Bizarro or Kon-El Batman: Dark Knight- Few years into his career he finds himself facing the rise of more gimmicked villains. Signs throughout the movie set up that Haley's Circus is coming to Gotham the next year Wonder Woman - Based on her animated movie Trinity- The three team up to face Parasite, Bane and Giganta. Post Credits has a man struck by lightning, a man finding a crashed alien ship, a man rising from the waves, and an alien arriving on Earth. Flash: Fastest Man Alive- Barry adjusts to his new super speed, teams up with Jay Garrick to take down a criminal mob. Post Credits has a group of people each preparing their signature weapons showing the rise of the Rogues Gallery Green Lantern: In Brightest Day- Hal goes through Green Lantern training and discovers Sinestro's betrayal. Post Credits has Sinestro forging a yellow ring of fear Aquaman- Similar to Throne of Atlantis minus the Justice Leagues involvement. Martian Manhunter- J'onn discovers that White Martians are invading Earth and goes to aid humanity. Justice League- The seven heroes unite when a White Martian unites Lex Luthor, Joker, Cheetah, Captain Cold, Sinestro and Black Manta to take them down. Post Credit has quick glimpses of various other heroes setting up future movies. Future Movies include Teen Titans, Doom Patrol, Solo movies for the sidekicks, sequels and more.
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nottinghillhq · 2 years ago
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welcome to notting hill mel and sunflower, we’re super excited to have you here, you’ve got twenty-four hours to send in your account!
⸻  ALISHA BOE. SHE/HER / have you ever heard of SO WHAT by pink, well, it describes JUNIPER KNIGHT to a tee! the twenty-seven year old, and SURGICAL RESIDENT was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say SHE is more blunt or more FOCUSED instead? anyway, they remind me of sleepless nights showing in her face, a mind overflowing with knowledge, chipped nail polish coating her fingernails & ponytails done with little thought, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ MEL ] // Silas’ fwb connection !
⸻  KATE WALSH. SHE/HER / have you ever heard of TEAR IN MY HEART by twenty one pilots, well, it describes CHARLOTTE “CHARLIE�� BECK to a tee! the fifty year old, and OWNER OF HEART AND SOUL GALLERY/ART HISTORY PROFESSOR was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say SHE is more scatterbrained or more COMPASSIONATE instead? anyway, they remind me of paint-stained hands, large cups of gas-station coffee, a wardrobe comprised of colorful clothes & a need for getting meaningful tattoos, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ MEL ] // stephen’s long term partner, replacing antonia !
⸻  BERK CANKAT. HE/HIM / have you ever heard of HEAVEN by niall horan , well, it describes MEHMET KEMAL to a tee! the thirty four year old, and LAWYER was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE are/is more arrogant or more INTELLIGENT instead? anyway, they remind me of heated debates which he normally wins, the smell of expensive cologne, mischievous grins, maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ SUNFLOWER / SHE/HER / 28 / UTC / SA ] 
⸻  PAUL MESCAL. HE/HIM / have you ever heard of HEROES  by david bowie, well, it describes NIALL BROGAN  to a tee! the thirty year old, and HIGH SCHOOL TEACHER/WRITER was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say HE is more thoughtful or more AWKWARD instead? anyway, they remind me of cozy sweaters and even cozier hugs, shy smiles, thoughtful gifts , maybe you’ll bump into them soon! [ SUNFLOWER / SHE/HER / 28 / UTC / SA ] 
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its-your-mind · 11 months ago
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You lean in the doorway of the Heroic Records Room and wait for the yelling, shoving, and acid explosions (seriously, Acidosis? showering acid down on the heads of your fellow fledgeling heroes does not seem like the best way to attract the interest of a mainstream hero) to die down. You’re tired - it’s been a long day already, what with the Secret Identity Significations, and the Introduction of the Initiates (you and your classmates) and the Accreditation of Heroic Adepts (off into the real world - and godspeed to them), and the and the Feast of Fortitude (Fantine in the kitchen outdid herself), and the Appreciation Applause for the Application of Alliteration (okay, that one’s not real, but like… they totally would). All day, all the eyes (including the x-ray vision ones, and the laser ones, and the alien ones, and the floating ones) were on you. Well, you and your classmates. You were barely able to sneak away for your own personal Brief Break to the Bathroom, and that two minutes and fifty-seven second period was the only time you’ve had away from the watchers all day (you’re pretty sure you were alone in there, anyway. Who knows. Maybe one of the members of Invisible Interplanetary Insiders be nasty).
Even now, with the peanut gallery removed so that the Initiated can make their decisions in peace, you’re not quite without observers. Leader Longinus stands behind you in the hallway, watching with a small smile as two of your classmates argue which of them would be a better trainee under The Facemaker. Obviously it’s Mask. You know it’s Mask. Mask knows it’s Mask. Leader Longinus probably knows it’s Mask. The only one here who doesn’t appears to be Shimmer, who keeps saying something about how “obfuscation is kind of like illusions, which is basically what The Facemaker does, so it could be either Shimmer or Mask, really, and why doesn’t Mask just let Shimmer have this? He would appreciate it soooo much, ya know? Like, he’d name his firstborn after them or something.” You’re pretty sure he hasn’t paused for breath for an entire minute, and he’s still going.
Mask just stands there and raises an eyebrow at him, and then continues to raise it, and keeps raising it until it’s floating almost entirely off and above their otherwise unmoving face.
You hear a slight cough from behind you, and you throw a quick sight over your shoulder and see Leader Longinus hiding a smile behind his gloved fist.
Your own smirk fades back to a blank mask (haha) as Shimmer and Mask reach an accord (Mask promises not to request The Facemaker on their Patron Petition Paper. Something about the way they said that seems awfully specific, so you throw a curious sight over their shoulder as they lean over their Petition to start writing - ahhh okay. Got it. Mask is literally writing a note to The Facemaker, apologizing for Shimmer’s Petition, asking if The Facemaker could find someone else for him. No mention of their own request at all. You pull the sight back. Damn. Seems like The Facemaker already reached out to Mask, and made an offer they were willing to accept. Cool. Great. Good for them. Fuck, you should have spent more time making connections on whatever the superhero equivalent is to LinkedIn instead of playing Smash until 3am) and you bond a sight and listen and throw them around the room.
Acidosis has dissolved her acid (a good decision on her part - they still whisper about what the record keepers did to the firestarter back in ‘05. The story changes depending on who’s telling it (and who they’re telling) but the most plausible version you’ve heard is that the fire-bug got a bit too excited while holding a file and accidentally singed their fingerprints into the edge. They disappeared overnight and none of their classmates have seen them since) and is asking Doppelgänger whether he thinks Chem Cloud or Sciem would be a better fit for her. Both of Doppelgänger take the heroes’ info sheets out of her hands and he begins to read them over.
Wellington is at the next file cabinet over, muttering curses under her breath as she tries to discreetly fan- dry a sheaf of papers that seem to have suffered a similar fate to roughly every paper assignment Wellington turned in this semester. (You know from personal experience that even if she does get those papers dry, they’ll be irrevocably crinkly and wavy for the rest of time. Sorry, record-keepers. Maybe next time have an assistant come in to help the sentient atmospheric water generator with her file searching? Or, no, based on what happened with the firestarter, maybe you should make sure to take the time tonight to tell Wellington how much you appreciate her just in case she gets replaced by like… an awl tonight.)
While Wellington is dealing with the unfortunate consequence of hygroscopy, Altered Ant is holding four different heroic resumes in four of xyr claws, considering them one at a time. A quick zoom and focus shows what you had suspected - all four are alien heroes. Makes sense. Work with what you know, you know? You’re excited to see what kind of shenanigans xe can get up to once xe’s out in the human world. You hope xe gets to eat xyr fill of “the good tacos” (the only thing xe’ll call Taco Bell). Xe’ll fit right in there.
You finish your out-of-body circuit of the room. Now that there’s no more acid flying, and it doesn’t seem like any punches and/or mind-bending-illusions are going to get thrown around any time soon, there’s nothing stopping you from walking in yourself and grabbing some files. Instead, you keep leaning in the doorframe, arms crossed, considering your options.
It’s not like you didn’t know today was coming. It’s part of the Academy, obviously, a really big part, but it’s also kind of tradition for the more powerful students to figure out who they plan to pick before they walk into this room. Take Mask, for example. They clearly already had something worked out with The Facemaker - the Patron Petition is just a formality for them. You yourself have been approached by a few Adepts, and even some of the higher classes of hero (like, heroes with household names. One time Wraith and Biterbat stopped you outside your dorm bathroom at 2am. You were halfway through brushing your teeth and were running back to grab your face wash that you had forgotten in your bunk, so you had like, toothpaste foam dripping down your face like a rabid possum, and then two of the most famous heroes in the world were like “yo we heard how dope you were tell us more” and you had a TOOTHBRUSH hanging out of your mouth and you can throw your SENSES you can’t throw your fucking VOICE and it was TWO IN THE GODDAMN MORNING DO YOU FUCKING MIND, WORLD-FAMOUS SUPERHUMAN DUO? Anyway you had been late to Civilian Heroes class the next day because you overslept), have made some subtle indications they’d “be interested in working with you some time.” It makes sense to you. You’re pretty well-rounded, as far as generic superhuman qualities go, but there’s a lot of high-profile supers who would love to have someone with a more subtle, more long-distance skillset at their beck and call. None of them will come out and say it, of course (well, that’s not quite true, but King Krusher has the same number of brain cells as she has conventionally spelled words in her Secret Identity, so when she came up to you at last year’s Adept Appreciation Affair and said “Hey, you. Sensing… person. You graduate next year, yeah? You should ask me to be your mentor. I wanna use you to scope out villain layers so I can go in and kill all the bad guys faster,” you didn’t really bother to add that to your mental tally of mentorship offers) but you know that a lot of the heroes just see the training program as an opportunity to pick up a helpful tool to use in their crimefighting for a year or so. If the kid happens to pick up some knowledge about how to hero, great! If not, ah well. They’ll figure it out. Maybe. Or else maybe the hero can convince them to stay on long-term as a Sidekick, get a forever-tool.
Fuck that noise, though. You’re not here to be anyone’s Sidekick. A lifetime of following orders, not making your own decisions, living in someone else’s shadow, having to make your uniform match their color palate? Absolutely not, no thank you. You saved up for years to pay a super seamstress to make a suit to your specs (and you are so proud of it - full-bodied and as skintight as possible while still leaving room for a fuckton of little pockets and holsters for weapons and whatever hard candy is on sale at the store this week, colored a dark kinda blurry gray (like a cloudy sky on an almost-rainy day), made with a durable material and a texture that makes it look like the colors shift slightly when you move and disrupt your outline, and a matching mask/helmet that snaps down over just the top of your face to leave your mouth and nose clear (mouth for eating hard candy, nose for sense throwing (you were surprised how many poisons you were able to learn to recognize the smell of)) with the helmet covering just the front half of your head so it can keep your curls pushed back and out of your face without crushing them flat against your skull. You are really proud of that helmet. You were not interested in coming up with a new haircare and style routine once you hit the super-scene) and you are not going to give up that suit for anything, and besides, none of them actually gave a shit about you anyways, just what your power could do for them, so no way would you give up a piece of your personal hard-won freedom, especially not to an entitled hero with more super-fans than they have super-sense, and—
“Sensory?”
You start, and instinctively throw your sight out in a full 360-view around where you’re standing, only to pull it back almost immediately as you turn, a bit sheepish, to face Leader Longinus. “Sir?”
“Are you going to go in? It’s getting late, and I would like to get these “sent out,” as it were, before active heroes begin their nightly patrol routes.” He gives you a winning smile and places his hands on your shoulders. “I’m sure you’ve already got a plan up there in that smart head of yours,” he says, using the hands on your shoulders to turn you to face the room (which does result in one of his rubbery arms being briefly wrapped across your sternum before he lets you go, kind of like a momentary hostage situation, but like, if the hostage-taker was a congenial white guy in his 60s whose entire body had the same physical properties as one of those sticky-hand toys you can get as a prize in exchange for like ten tickets at the arcade. Having a giant sticky stretchy hand across your chest for several seconds is not an experience you are interested in repeating). He taps one shoulder a few times, presumably in a matter meant to reassure. “Go on in, and at least start flipping through some files.”
He gives you a little push (less sticky stretchy hand feelings on that one) and you sigh and walk into the room. As you walk in, you throw some sight upwards to the ceiling so you’ve got a view of the whole space from above (a precaution you’ve started taking whenever Acidosis is in the room. You are not interested in your classmates’ repeat reviews of your rainbow-polka-dot-patterned boxer-briefs). You walk towards the wall of filing cabinets and open the drawer marked Iapetus - Kendo Kenny, take a second to wonder what Kendo Kenny could possibly have done to piss off the Identity Interface to earn that Secret Identity, and pull it open.
You flip idly through the files, not really paying attention or looking at any of them in particular. It’s not like you plan to make any decision today, anyways. Through the sight you’ve got from the ceiling, you keep an eye out for any stray corrosive substances heading in the general direction of your thighs and/or ass. As your gaze passes around the room from above, you spot something… slightly off about the cabinet you’re currently flipping through, and your hands freeze on the files. You wouldn’t have noticed without the bird’s eye view, but it seems like the cabinet is leaning slightly to the right, so that its top edge is resting against the cabinet beside it. None of the other cabinets in the row are leaning, including the cabinet being leaned upon. Curious (and a little bit concerned the record-keepers will notice this and blame you as the last person who touched this cabinet - you do not want to disappear in a freak shredder incident) you move your sight down and closer to see if you can figure out what’s causing the (Slightly) Leaning Tower of Filing Cabinet. Just for shits and giggles, you throw another bit of sight behind the row of filing cabinets, and a third straight in front of you into the slight space between the cabinets.
There’s nothing above or behind the cabinet, but lodged in between… is that a file? Just… loose? Not filed in its proper place? Slightly panicked, you throw a sight out the nearest window four floors above to check for… nope, no giant apes, or alien invaders, or super-volcano eruptions, or idiot politicians tweeting the nuclear launch codes. The world is not ending. You pull back your sight, wincing from the strain of such a long-distance, fast-paced sense throw.
So.
A lost file, and yet the world remains as it was… neither are all the record keepers dead in a sudden world flood, nor are they in here right now, Patron Petitions be damned, correcting this egregious breach of archiving law. This must have been back here for a long-ass time, huh? Well, fuck. Now you absolutely need to know what it is.
You throw a series of small touches into the space and feel around the file, trying to see how it’s wedged in, how far down it’s gotten, and whether or not all the contents will slide out as soon as you even shift the cabinet even a millimeter.
After a lot of thrown poking and prodding, some shifting of cabinets, and a bit of help from Leader Longinus’s very easily flattened arms (you had to reassure him multiple times that no, you had not been the one to put the file back there, you had just found it, and you had no idea how it had gotten there in the first place, and really the record-keepers would probably actually be happy to have it back so this might make them slightly less likely to disappear either of you in the future if you accidentally misfiled the hero London Eyes under the London Eels group), you hold the file triumphantly in your grasp. By this point, everyone else has realized that something is going on, and they’ve all gathered around to look at what you’ve found.
The file label itself is gone (probably lost forever between those cabinets) but it seems like the important paperwork is still in there. You open to the first page, a standard fact sheet with a picture paper-clipped in front of it.
Name: Dani Padix
Date of birth: July 19, 1986
Alias (Secret Identity): Hidden Hacker
Powers: Remote infiltration of digitized information systems (online networks and in-house networks), immediate access to any password-protected device or account, personal network connector
Status: Alive, Inactive
Current location: Unknown
Known associates: None
Known activity: None
Notes: The Hidden Hacker had an incredibly successful career working as support to many more well-known supers. They were forced into hiding when it was revealed that they had been slowly dismantling a known criminal enterprise through small intrusions into their network activity.
The rest of the page is blacked out with marker (not uncommon for these files full of secret and privileged information), but your vision (all of it) has become a bit foggy anyway.
When you look up from the file, Leader Longinus is looking back at you. He smiles slightly at whatever he sees on your face. “Ah. I see. I don’t think it’s too off the mark to say that, if there was a plan coming in here today, it may have just changed.“
You just look back at him. Open your mouth. Close it. Blink a few times. Nod.
He nods back and turns to the group. “Alright, the rest of you all, have you filled out your forms? Good, good, now hand them to me, I’ll get them over to Correspondence and he’ll make sure they get exactly where they need to be as soon as is physically possible.”
Your classmates scatter back to where they had left their forms and one by one hand them to Leader Longinus. A few drops of water splash from Wellington’s hand onto Shimmer’s form, and he immediately begins to complain that The Facemaker won’t accept him if his form is all wet, that’s so gross and unprofessional, and Wellington’s eyes go wide and a little worded as she looks at her own form, corners slightly damp and dripping where she has just placed it in Leader Longinus’s outstretched hand, and then she also demands a new form, and Leader Longinus assures them both that the dampness of their paperwork will have absolutely no effect on the decision of any superheroes, and you’re honestly barely hearing any of this because you’re finishing filling out your own form, staring down at the last question:
Why are you interested in having me as your Mentor hero?
And below it, your answer:
I need your help.
A few hours later, after Leader Longinus has passed on your letters to Correspondence, who did… whatever he does to get things to their intended recipient, you’re lying wide awake in your bunk, staring at the ceiling and listening to Mask’s occasional snores drifting up from the bed below. The things you read in Hidden Hacker’s file are circling through your mind on repeat.
Remote infiltration… forced into hiding… immediate access… criminal enterprise… alive, inactive…
Your phone buzzes where it rests on the bed beside you, and you jump so hard you nearly fall over the railing (you’d think increased sense range would make your startle reflex less strong, but unfortunately yours just gets worse the farther you learn to throw). Frantically flailing your hands around you to find where your phone slipped between your blankets, you throw sight to see the screen before it goes dark again and… what the fuck? When and why did you set a reminder to go off at 2:13am?
Your hand hits your phone. You grab it, fumble with it for a second, and then hold it over your face, squinting up at it to see what drunk-you decided that you needed to be reminded of at some indeterminate time in the future. You blink. Squint at it harder. Open up the reminder to see the full text. Read it. Put your phone down. Pinch your arm. Pick your phone up. Read it again. Okay. Fuck. Well. It is definitely not a message from drunk-you. Even sober-you couldn’t pull a prank like this, and sober-you didn’t set this reminder either. So at least you’ve got that going for you. On the other hand…
TIME SENSITIVE
Reminder - Sat, 2:13am
Hello, Sensory. I must say, it was incredibly surprising to receive your Patron Petition form this evening as I was making dinner. This was partially due to the fact I have been out of contact with the Academy for over a decade now, but primarily because I do not meet the qualifications for Patronage any longer, as much of the work that I do these days is… less heroic than the Academy would traditionally prefer. Nonetheless, I’m not one to stand in the way of talent and ambition, and your request does intrigue me. I’ve added a GPS location to this notification. If you’re still interested, come at 4:30 PM tomorrow. I would suggest coming alone, though as I said, I’m not one to stand in the way of ambition. If you want to see what happens if you choose to bring company, be my guest. If you want to see what happens if you send someone else in your stead, that could be fun too. I know there are a few in your class who play with illusions and disguises. However, I do hope you’ll be there tomorrow yourself, alone. I am excited and intrigued to know what it is that finds you requesting help from a decades-defunct hero. —Hidden Hacker
Upon graduating the academy, each superhero in training is granted the choice of training under a full fledged superhero. If you select their name, they are secretly notified and will come and find you, to see if they want to train you. There’s always a massive rush and squabble over the best names, the recognisable ones, in the records office. When looking through the names, you find one hidden at the back, having slipped out of the case. Its dirty, slightly torn, in elegant old writing, and seemingly long forgotten. Something inside you says that this is the one for you.  
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wcrldtcpa · 4 years ago
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tag dump - seven
seven ic ║ no brain all brawn  
seven musing ║ heart of justice 
seven headcanon ║ hazy memories  
seven aesthetic ║ passing joy    
seven gallery ║ the face of a hero      
seven verse ║ first nonary game        
seven verse ║ second nonary game        
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istumpysk · 3 years ago
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Operation Stumpy Re-Read
ACOK: Sansa VIII (Chapter 65)
My little kumquat! 😘
King Joffrey sat above them all, amongst the blades and barbs of the Iron Throne. He was in crimson samite, his black mantle studded with rubies, on his head his heavy golden crown.
Joffrey is dressed like a Targaryen. Remember this, we'll circle back.
+.+.+
The Lord of Casterly Rock made such an impressive figure that it was a shock when his destrier dropped a load of dung right at the base of the throne. Joffrey had to step gingerly around it as he descended to embrace his grandfather and proclaim him Savior of the City.
✨ metaphors ✨
+.+.+
Pride of place was given to Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden, a once-powerful man gone to fat, yet still handsome. His sons followed him in; Ser Loras and his older brother Ser Garlan the Gallant. The three dressed alike, in green velvet trimmed with sable.
[...]
Ser Garlan Tyrell, five years senior to Ser Loras, was a taller bearded version of his more famous younger brother. He was thicker about the chest and broader at the shoulders, and though his face was comely enough, he lacked Ser Loras's startling beauty.
Kind of interesting, kind of not: at the end of the last Sansa chapter we learn Renly Baratheon saved the city. Fast-forward to this chapter, where they're recognizing all heroes and their deeds during the battle, and Renly is never once mentioned.
Extremely confusing for the reader, and I don't think we get any clarification until the next book. The only clue is the Tyrells dressed in green, and a description of Garlan's body type.
George loves being a little shit.
+.+.+
"The roses support the lion, as the might of Highgarden supports the realm," proclaimed Joffrey. "If there is any boon you would ask of me, ask and it shall be yours."
And now it comes, thought Sansa.
[...]
"Your Grace," Garlan said when the king approached him, "I have a maiden sister, Margaery, the delight of our House. She was wed to Renly Baratheon, as you know, but Lord Renly went to war before the marriage could be consummated, so she remains innocent. Margaery has heard tales of your wisdom, courage, and chivalry, and has come to love you from afar. I beseech you to send for her, to take her hand in marriage, and to wed your House to mine for all time."
King Joffrey made a show of looking surprised. "Ser Garlan, your sister's beauty is famed throughout the Seven Kingdoms, but I am promised to another. A king must keep his word."
Queen Cersei got to her feet in a rustle of skirts. "Your Grace, in the judgment of your small council, it would be neither proper nor wise for you to wed the daughter of a man beheaded for treason, a girl whose brother is in open rebellion against the throne even now. Sire, your councillors beg you, for the good of your realm, set Sansa Stark aside. The Lady Margaery will make you a far more suitable queen."
[...]
Joffrey raised a hand. "I would like to heed the wishes of my people, Mother, but I took a holy vow."
The High Septon stepped forward. "Your Grace, the gods hold bethrothal solemn, but your father, King Robert of blessed memory, made this pact before the Starks of Winterfell had revealed their falseness. Their crimes against the realm have freed you from any promise you might have made. So far as the Faith is concerned, there is no valid marriage contract 'twixt you and Sansa Stark."
[...]
Sansa leaned forward, her hands tight around the gallery's wooden rail. She knew what came next, but she was still frightened of what Joffrey might say, afraid that he would refuse to release her even now, when his whole kingdom depended upon it. She felt as if she were back again on the marble steps outside the Great Sept of Baelor, waiting for her prince to grant her father mercy, and instead hearing him command Ilyn Payne to strike off his head. Please, she prayed fervently, make him say it, make him say it.
Lord Tywin was looking at his grandson. Joff gave him a sullen glance, shifted his feet, and helped Ser Garlan Tyrell to rise. "The gods are good. I am free to heed my heart. I will wed your sweet sister, and gladly, ser."
This whole scene is scripted, but the author reminds us Joffrey doesn't always follow the plan. I would not be surprised to learn George meant to convey Joffrey was waffling, and that look from Tywin was necessary.
Side note, we have betrothals being broken by Kings in back-to-back chapters. Sadly, one side is more crafty about it.
+.+.+
"Yes. But if I'm not to be queen, what will become of me?"
We don't have to worry about that.
+.+.+
The queen was irritated by that. "You should have learned by now, none of us get the things we want."
Oh, but Sansa does. We already know that.
+.+.+
Next came four of lesser birth who had distinguished themselves in the fighting: the one-eyed knight Ser Philip Foote, who had slain Lord Bryce Caron in single combat; the freerider Lothor Brune, who'd cut his way through half a hundred Fossoway men-at-arms to capture Ser Jon of the green apple and kill Ser Bryan and Ser Edwyd of the red, thereby winning himself the name Lothor Apple-Eater; Willit, a grizzled man-at-arms in the service of Ser Harys Swyft, who'd pulled his master from beneath his dying horse and defended him against a dozen attackers; and a downy-cheeked squire named Josmyn Peckledon, who had killed two knights, wounded a third, and captured two more, though he could not have been more than fourteen. Willit was borne in on a litter, so grievous were his wounds.
Ser Kevan had taken a seat beside his brother Lord Tywin. When the heralds had finished telling of each hero's deeds, he rose. "It is His Grace's wish that these good men be rewarded for their valor. By his decree, Ser Philip shall henceforth be Lord Philip of House Foote, and to him shall go all the lands, rights, and incomes of House Caron. Lothor Brune to be raised to the estate of knighthood, and granted land and keep in the riverlands at war's end. To Josmyn Peckledon, a sword and suit of plate, his choice of any warhorse in the royal stables, and knighthood as soon as he shall come of age. And lastly, for Goodman Willit, a spear with a silver-banded haft, a hauberk of new-forged ringmail, and a full helm with visor. Further, the goodman's sons shall be taken into the service of House Lannister at Casterly Rock, the elder as a squire and the younger as a page, with the chance to advance to knighthood if they serve loyally and well. To all this, the King's Hand and the small council consent."
Sorry for making you read that, but I get super paranoid when we spend this much time on four random nobodies.
Ser Philip Foote is a one-eyed knight who is given Lord Bryce Caron's lands after he kills him. In ADWD, Philip's claim to those lands will be challenged by Lord Bryce Caron's bastard half-brother.
Lothor Brune enters the service of Littlefinger. He will eventually protect Sansa from Marillion, and develop a crush on Mya Stone. He has been promised land and keep in the riverlands when the war is finished.
Nothing noteworthy about Goodman Willit, but the man he serves, Ser Harys Swyft, is trapped under a horse during the battle.
Josmyn Peckledon, or Peck, shares commonalities with Podrick Payne. He'll later become Jaime Lannister's squire, and frequently sleep with Pia. He burns Cersei's letter to Jaime.
There might be something here, but I feel like I have to bend myself in a pretzel to get there.
+.+.+
A more significant lordship by far was granted to Ser Lancel Lannister. Joffrey awarded him the lands, castle, and rights of House Darry, whose last child lord had perished during the fighting in the riverlands, "leaving no trueborn heirs of lawful Darry blood, but only a bastard cousin."
Oh yeah? A Lannister is going to claim the lands and castle of a decimated family with no trueborn heirs, with the exception of a bastard cousin?
Is Kevan Lannister going to marry his son Lancel to Amerei Frey, the eldest daughter of the female heir to Darry, to strengthen his claim over the Darry lands?
Stealth jonsa. Pretty sure that bastard is still alive too.
+.+.+
The Imp was said to be dying as well, from a terrible cut to the head.
As if I'm that lucky.
+.+.+
Sansa had not heard of Littlefinger doing anything especially heroic during the battle, but it seemed he was to be rewarded all the same.
Ser Kevan got back to his feet. "It is the wish of the King's Grace that his loyal councillor Petyr Baelish be rewarded for faithful service to crown and realm. Be it known that Lord Baelish is granted the castle of Harrenhal with all its attendant lands and incomes, there to make his seat and rule henceforth as Lord Paramount of the Trident. Petyr Baelish and his sons and grandsons shall hold and enjoy these honors until the end of time, and all the lords of the Trident shall do him homage as their rightful liege. The King's Hand and the small council consent."
On his knees, Littlefinger raised his eyes to King Joffrey. "I thank you humbly, Your Grace. I suppose this means I'll need to see about getting some sons and grandsons."
He does not mean with Lysa.
I can't tell if this is sloppy writing, or if Roose and Tywin are already fully allied, and Littlefinger knows everything.
We'll learn at the end of this chapter that the plot to kill Joffrey is in full motion, and only a month away. Killing Joffrey, when Robb is still alive, is a great way to turn the tides in favour of House Stark and ensure you never get your castle.
Either Littlefinger already knows Robb is a dead man (Impressive, given the marriage alliance with House Frey was just broken), or George didn't think the timeline of this one through.
Or maybe he really is an agent of chaos.
+.+.+
Lord Paramount of the Trident, Sansa thought, and Lord of Harrenhal as well. She did not understand why that should make him so happy; the honors were as empty as the title granted to Hallyne the Pyromancer. Harrenhal was cursed, everyone knew that, and the Lannisters did not even hold it at present. Besides, the lords of the Trident were sworn to Riverrun and House Tully, and to the King in the North; they would never accept Littlefinger as their liege. Unless they are made to. Unless my brother and my uncle and my grandfather are all cast down and killed.
Arya can't figure out what princess is betrothed to a Frey, meanwhile Sansa's over here piecing together the plot of ASOS.
I'm SORRY, it's funny!
+.+.+
Robb has beaten them every time. He'll beat Lord Baelish too, if he must.
Sorry hun, your brother can't be relied upon, you're going to have to defeat him yourself. We believe in you.
+.+.+
More than six hundred new knights were made that day. They had held their vigil in the Great Sept of Baelor all through the night and crossed the city barefoot that morning to prove their humble hearts.
[...]
Some had bloody feet from their walk through the city, but they stood tall and proud all the same, it seemed to Sansa.
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+.+.+
But no sooner had that one been dragged away than a knight of solemn mien with a fiery heart on his surcoat shouted out, "Stannis is the true king! A monster sits the Iron Throne, an abomination born of incest!"
"Be silent," Ser Kevan Lannister bellowed.
The knight raised his voice instead. "Joffrey is the black worm eating the heart of the realm! Darkness was his father, and death his mother! Destroy him before he corrupts you all! Destroy them all, queen whore and king worm, vile dwarf and whispering spider, the false flowers. Save yourselves!" One of the gold cloaks knocked the man off his feet, but he continued to shout. "The scouring fire will come! King Stannis will return!"
Are we sure this is about Joffrey?
+.+.+
Joffrey lurched to his feet. "I'm king! Kill him! Kill him now! I command it." He chopped down with his hand, a furious, angry gesture . . . and screeched in pain when his arm brushed against one of the sharp metal fangs that surrounded him. The bright crimson samite of his sleeve turned a darker shade of red as his blood soaked through it. "Mother!" he wailed.
With every eye on the king, somehow the man on the floor wrested a spear away from one of the gold cloaks, and used it to push himself back to his feet. "The throne denies him!" he cried. "He is no king!"
[...]
They say the Iron Throne can be perilous cruel to those who were not meant to sit it.
Hey, remember how Joffrey is dressed like a Targaryen? :)
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+.+.+
"The queen will never let you go, never. You are too valuable a hostage. And Joffrey . . . sweetling, he is still king. If he wants you in his bed, he will have you, only now it will be bastards he plants in your womb instead of trueborn sons."
My stance is there will be no bastards in Sansa's womb.
+.+.+
"When?" Sansa asked. "When will we go?"
"The night of Joffrey's wedding. After the feast. All the necessary arrangements have been made. The Red Keep will be full of strangers. Half the court will be drunk and the other half will be helping Joffrey bed his bride. For a little while, you will be forgotten, and the confusion will be our friend."
"The wedding won't be for a moon's turn yet. Margaery Tyrell is at Highgarden, they've only now sent for her."
"You've waited so long, be patient awhile longer. Here, I have something for you." Ser Dontos fumbled in his pouch and drew out a silvery spiderweb, dangling it between his thick fingers.
It was a hair net of fine-spun silver, the strands so thin and delicate the net seemed to weigh no more than a breath of air when Sansa took it in her fingers. Small gems were set wherever two strands crossed, so dark they drank the moonlight. "What stones are these?"
"Black amethysts from Asshai. The rarest kind, a deep true purple by daylight."
"It's very lovely," Sansa said, thinking, It is a ship I need, not a net for my hair.
"Lovelier than you know, sweet child. It's magic, you see. It's justice you hold. It's vengeance for your father." Dontos leaned close and kissed her again. "It's home."
Tiny clues already hiding in the text.
Dany's tight silver collar was chafing against her throat. She unfastened it and flung it aside. The collar was set with an enchanted amethyst that Xaro swore would ward her against all poisons. - Daenerys III, ACOK
Anyway, more sloppy writing:
Littlefinger and Lady Olenna have already planned Joffrey's murder at this point (Great job sending Littlefinger, Tyrion), so how come Lady Olenna interrogates Sansa over Joffrey's character in the next book?
Are you telling me she's on the fence? Sansa has to convince her to go through with it? Because I don't think Littlefinger would accept her backing out of something like that, nor do I think he requires her participation.
Am I missing something? Usually I am.
Final thoughts:
Tyrion is never once mentioned or thanked during their wank fest in the throne room, and I was smiling about it the entire time. Loser.
-> return to menu <-
127 notes · View notes
absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago
Text
The Brothers and Side Characters Play the Sims
I don’t know what possessed me to make this but WHATEVER. I’ve been playing the Sims since I was a wee little girl, and I’ve seen my fair share of weird Sims stuff that I feel would fit these bozos perfectly.
My Sims have a Functional Family Life Because I Don’t (Lucifer)
God dammit Levi’s obsessed with another game... ugh.
Spends 5 minutes in Create-a-Sim and hops into a starter home.
Lucifer’s the type to start with all the average stuff and then build their stuff up as his sim gets promotions.
It’s just... so peaceful...
...he’s adopting a dog.
Look at his new little virtual family... his sim-kids are self sufficient and getting A’s in school, his Sim spouse MC or Diavolo take your pick loves his Sim-self, his sim-dog-
WAIT NO- THE DOG’S AN ELDER?!
AAAAAAAAAAAAA-
...
He’s fine. It was just a virtual dog. *sniffle*
He’s now spending his free time drinking Demonus and playing the Sims.
What’s a mod? Levi why does your sim have gun?
Behold, My Gorgeous Home... It’s a Box (Mammon)
Mammon, like the rest of the HOL, is mooching off of Levi’s Origin account.
“AW SHIT! This house looks awesome! I’m gonna build it for Sim-me to live in!”
Mammon proceeds to build a box with rooms. Yay...
He just picks the funnest sounding job if he picks any job at all for his Sim. That’s how he ended up making 9 dollars an hour in the criminal career.
Didn’t stop Mammon from buying that solid gold bathroom set from Get Famous... a box with solid gold bathrooms.
His Sim is broke send help-
“Leviiiiiii my sim needs money... the people my sim kidnapped and is forcing to paint aren’t making enough money...” “Ugh... press control shift C and type ‘motherlode’.”
...Levi made a mistake.
“FUCK YEAH! MOTHERLODE!”
His sim’s life is so chaotic, he has a piranha pool that his sim has almost died in twice, the sim is carrying on several torrid love affairs, his sim got struck by lightning, his sim has nearly died in a grilled cheese making accident twice... in the same day.
At least once Sim-Mammon and Sim-MC get married things calm down a little.
Mammon finds out what custom content is and proceeds to download EVERYTHING HE CAN FIND.
And now he’s asking Levi why his computer is running so slow.
Expansion Pack King (Leviathan)
He got into it back when the Sims 2 was new, he’s a veteran fan.
“Bro remember when Agnes Crumplebottom would show up and whack the shit out of your sims if they were flirting?”
“Remember when that witch would show up randomly on the lot you were on if you had Makin’ Magic?”
“Remember when Bella Goth was abducted by aliens and we just... didn’t question it?”
He whines about the Sims4 and how crappy it is but still buys every expansion pack, game pack, and stuff pack.
This boy watches like 40 hours of built tutorials and ends up sobbing over his weird roofs.
“WHY DOESN’T IT LOOK AS NICE AS THE ONE I’M LOOKING AT?! THIS ISN’T FAIR!”
The mod folder is so full istg-
Levi gets custom content for the sole purpose of making his favourite fictional characters.
This is why Henry and the Lord of Shadows are married and Ruri-chan and Sim-Levi are roommates.
Oh my god they were roommates-
Levi also added his brothers to the world and uh... Sim-Mammon died in a tragic pool accident F.
Levi then proceeded to befriend the Grim Reaper.
He’s anxiously awaiting the release of Paralives.
Wait Gameplay? In This Build Simulator? (Satan)
Satan’s here to build and leave. Gameplay who?
Our favourite bundle of rage is a master architect and the amount of followers on the Gallery he has shows it.
He takes up those build shell challenges and always ends up making them look positively perfect.
Asmo’s always using his houses, and Satan often takes requests when he gets bored.
No Mammon, he reserves the right to refuse to build a golden castle for you- YOUR SIM HAS 40 SIMOLEONS-
No mods, no CC, he’s building with what EA gave him.
...and EA gave him debug objects, and he’s not going to explain how to get them.
The one time he did actually play with a family... it was one sim and seven cats.
He tries to play without cheats... and ends up getting frustrated and turns on cheats.
All hail the Pets Expansion Pack.
Custom Content Soap Opera (Asmodeus)
Asmo spends 5 hours in Create a Sim then just... clicks out of the game.
That’s how it goes most of the time, buuuuuut when he gets super invested in a family he’s made, boy howdy is he INVESTED.
Sim A is carrying on an affair with Sim C who’s in love with Sim B who’s married to Sim A but Sim D wants to kill Sim A and C even though they’re the illegitimate child of Sim C-
When Asmo realizes that in the Sims 4 he needs to manufacture all the drama himself and he can’t just sit back with a glass of wine and watch the fireworks, he switches to the Sims 2 and 3.
“...why is this old lady beating up my Sim..?”
He immediately recoils in horror upon seeing how ugly the Sims are pre Sims4.
HE NEEDS TO FIX THIS-
Ah, there we go, perfect. Custom Content to the rescue!
He ends up remaking the entire world just so he doesn’t have to look at weird looking Sims.
Asmo is the only one to have finished a proper Legacy Challenge, but it gets crazy chaotic after gen 3.
“My sim just got abducted by aliens and now he’s pregnant- WHAT?!”
He has about 40 saves and only two he actually plays.
Just a Big Ol’ Happy Family (Beelzebub)
Beel found the game, proceeded to make everyone in create-a-sim to the best of his abilities, and made everyone get along.
That’s why Sim-Lucifer and Sim-Belphie are on a swing set together, they’re friends :D
“Hey Luke do you think you can make this?” “I-is that a cake shaped like a hamburger?” “Yes. Please make.”
He took one look at the cooking options and decided to max out his Sim’s cooking skill to unlock all the options.
Beel proceeded to drool all over his keyboard. Gross...
Boy howdy did he have some crazy dinner suggestions!
Overall, very wholesome Sim-life, except for the time Sim-Levi died because the toilet caught fire, don’t worry, Sim-Beel knows how to make ambrosia.
All is good in the Sim save...
...until Sim-Beel ate pufferfish nigiri and fuckin died-
Wait Did I Not Pause- (Belphie)
Huh, this game looks fine... I’ll play for a little- *SNORE*
Belphie makes some sims, plops them into a starter home, plays for an hour, then falls asleep.
He wakes up five hours later to absolute carnage.
Three sims have died because someone decided to make Mac and Cheese and the oven caught fire, the kids were taken away by social services, and the dog ran away.
“...heheh, holy shit everyone look.”
He doesn’t play often, but when he does, death occurs. He has found out every death method for every game from Sims 2 to 4.
And that INCLUDES the Sims Medieval! You guys remember that game?
Sometimes it’s not intentional, but Belphie got bored with the totally normal life his sims were living and decided to spice it up.
“Why are the ghosts breaking my showers..?”
Help There’s a Bug- (Diavolo)
The Crown Prince started playing when he noticed Lucifer was playing it.
He was immediately obsessed.
Dia mostly plays the Sims Medieval because he likes the feeling of achievement after completing a quest!
“Barbatos... why isn’t my Sim completing their task? The icon won’t show up.” “My lord it appears the game is bugged.” “:(“
No one thought to tell Diavolo that EA doesn’t plan on offering bug support to a game made in like... 2009
This doesn’t matter! Look at how great his kingdom is doing- oh no his hero has the plague-
He plays through the Pirates and Nobles expansion and manages to get the peaceful ending, he’s so proud of himself.
“MC! Look! My Monarch’s sword is permanently on fire and I’m fighting an evil wizard!”
When he does play the other Sims games he’s pretty basic, though, he does a great job at furnishing!
Dia gets crazy sad when his Sims die... he turns off aging.
Builder no. 2 (Barbatos)
Barbie doesn’t have time for this... but when he does, he builds.
No create a sim.
No playing the game as intended.
Just builds.
It’s relaxing, okay? A nice little suburban house he’s never going to play in, maybe a treehouse, maybe a big Hollywood Mansion...
The only time he actually plays the game outside of build mode is when someone needs his help to fix something in-game.
He does download custom content build items if he feels bored by the current selection.
Oh Crap What Am I Doing?! (Simeon)
Help him. Please.
He’s so confused.
“Luke, why is my sim upset?” “He’s hungry, Simeon.” “Oh, how do I fix that?” “...Simeon-”
There’s a toilet in the middle of the living room.
The fridge is facing the wall.
There’s no bathtub or shower.
The house is on fire- there is no god- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-
Okay, once he gets the hang of it he’s sitting pretty. His sims have good jobs, the kids are getting good grades, everything’s fine.
...
But Simeon won’t forget the nightmares.
What Even is This Save? (Solomon)
Solomon’s save is the definition of chaos.
One sim’s a vampire, the other is a spellcaster that really wants to fight the Callientes for some reason, there’s one normal sim that’s always sick for some reason,
It gets weird, confusing, and horrible.
Just how Solomon likes it.
His house makes no sense, like, what even is architecture?
Money cheats are needed because Solomon‘a goal of chaos and confusion is proving to be kind of expensive.
Square up Mortimer Goth, Solomon’s sims are here to steal your weird knight statue that’s worth a shit ton of simoleons for NO REASON.
He joined the scientist career for the sole purpose of getting to the alien planet and kidnapping adding an alien to the household via cheats.
The vampire ended up dying on their wedding day because Solomon forgot that he gave them the sun weakness.
Oh well, the ghost got added to the household! VAMPIRE GHOST!
The Child (Luke)
Before you say Luke’s too young to play the Sims, you should know that I was nine when I first started playing, and I turned out fiiiiiiiiiine.
He’s just happy to be playing.
Look, his sims are gardening :D
Look, two of them are getting married :D
Look, they had a baby :D
Look, his sims are building a rocket ship :D
Look, his sims’s rocket just crashed-
The concept of death hit the little angel right in the face that day.
“*sniffle*... my sims...”
Don’t worry, with tears in his eyes, Luke quit without saving and everything was fine!
Speaking of My Sims, Luke played MySims Sky Heroes and that was when Luke had his first bout of gamer rage.
MC came over to hang out with Solomon and Simeon, and in the distance they could just hear:
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY TIME WASN’T FAST ENOUGH TO CONTINUE THE STORY!? I’LL SHOW YOU FAST ENOUGH TIME!”
Okay, maybe Simeon should take the game away... just for a bit... he should take heed not to be bitten by the incredibly angry chihuahua.
Bonus:
MC: Why are our Sims married?
*Insert Boy Here*: Uh... that’s weird... I have no clue why they’re doing that...
557 notes · View notes
tricksters-captain · 4 years ago
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Bucky Barnes Imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 3
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Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.  
In this chapter: After finding Sharon in Madripoor, you learn about the creator of the soldier serum (Based on S1 EP3)
(PART 1) (PART 2)
Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader
Word Count: 3,457
Warnings: Spoilers for episode 3, violence, strong language.
Once you arrived at Sharon’s you were itching to get out of the costume Zemo cooked up for you. 
“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well.” Sam gawked at Sharon’s place which was full of art work and collectables. 
“I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I’ll get for a real Monet?” Sharon shrugged as she lead you through her gallery. 
“Easy...Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monets.” Sam didn’t believe her as he stared at the artwork. 
“No. She means real. This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” Zemo defended Sharon as he followed her.
“It’s true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.” Bucky informed Sam. 
“Okay, guys, I see what you’re doing. You’re more worldly than good old Sam.” Sam pulled out his phone and started searching a nearby paining. 
“Yeah. What’s Google say?” Bucky teased him for it. 
“No shit.” Sam muttered as the realisation hit him. 
“You guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour.” Sharon beckoned you along to which you were silently thankful for. 
Sharon was kind enough to let you look through her vast collection of clothes until you picked out something you liked. 
“Hey... You okay?” You asked softly. 
You and Bucky were alone with your backs to each other as you changed in one of Sharon’s many rooms.
“I’m fine.” Bucky replied quietly. 
You knew he wouldn’t be fine after having to act like the winter soldier again. You watched him at that bar. He didn’t hold back when he attacked those men. 
“Buck, you know you can’t lie to me.” You tried to keep it light but Bucky wasn’t having it. 
“I’m not.” 
You didn’t push.
“Hey, will you zip me up?” You asked after stepping into your dress. You didn’t turn but you could hear Bucky’s footsteps as he approached you. 
You felt the cold of his fingers brush against your back as he slowly zipped up the dress. 
You turned when the zip reached the top. 
“Thanks.” You whispered. 
Bucky’s eyes were burning through you as he admired your choice of dress. 
“You look beautiful.” Bucky murmured, his eyes taking in every detail. 
“You scrub up quite nicely yourself.” You smiled as you admired Bucky in the suit Sharon had given him. You couldn’t deny the butterflies in your stomach as you thought about a possible normal circumstance Bucky could wear something like this. Like a date. 
“Come on.” Bucky took your hand and lead you to the door that would take you back to the others. 
“It’s alright. I’m gonna sort my hair out. Running through Low-town didn’t exactly do it any favours.” You retracted your hand and returned to the mirror. Bucky hesitated didn’t question you. 
“What’s going on with you and Bucky?” Sharon’s voice filled the room as you  heard the door open again. “Thought the two of you’d be together by now.”
“We’re coworkers. We’ve always been coworkers.” You were wary of Sharon’s new found attitude.
“Oh please. You two have wanted to jump each others bones the whole time I've known you.” Sharon rolled her eyes at you as she slump down on the love seat beside you.
You remained silent as you brushed through your hair. 
“Oh come on.” Sharon rolled her eyes. “You two have never?” 
“No.” You said almost too quickly. 
“Well it’s only a matter of time. I don’t know why you are dragging it out so long.” Sharon sighed dramatically as she picked at the fabric on the settee. 
“I don’t know why everyone is so invested in mine and Bucky’s relationship.” You spun around to face her. “You. Sam. Steve. You all poke and prod but you don’t take into consideration all the factors.”
“No you don’t take into consideration that there’s only so much time before one day you’re shot or killed or you have to go on the run and never see him again. You need to grow some balls, (y/n).” Sharon didn't bother sticking around after that. 
You groaned and closed your eyes. 
When you finally decided to rejoin the group, they were discussing Sharon’s status in Madripoor.
“What’s going on, Sharon? You don’t ever wanna come back home?” Sam asked as he put on a shirt. 
“They’ll lock me up if I step foot back in the States. Madripoor doesn’t allow extradition.” Sharon replied pretty matter-of-factly as she walked over to her desk. 
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call, but after the Blip and the chaos, I just––” Sharon cut Sam off before he could explain himself. 
“––Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it’s all hypocrisy. 
“He knows. And not so deep down.” Zemo felt the need to jump in. 
“By the way, how is the new Cap?” Sharon asked.
“Don’t get me started.”Bucky grumbled.
“Please. You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit. Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap’s best friend.” Sharon smirked as she sat down beside Bucky.
“Wow. She’s kind of awful now.” Bucky said as he looked over at you.
“Karli Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum.” You took the initiative to change the topic back to the reason you were here in the first place. 
“You guys really should steer clear of all of this for your own safety.”Sharon warned you as she shook her head. 
“We know it’s a risk, but we won’t leave until we find the one who cracked the code.” Sam took the chair beside Sharon as he spoke. 
“We got a name. Wilfred Nagel.” Bucky told her. 
“Nagel works for the Power Broker.” Sharon informed you as she stood to pour herself a drink. 
“We need your help, Sharon. I can get your name cleared.” Sam offered. 
“You haggling with my life?” Sharon smirked again.
“Not like that.” Sam shook his head. 
“I don’t buy that. You pretending like you can clear my name.” Sharon leant back against her bar. 
“Okay, maybe it is hypocrisy. Maybe you’re right. What happened to you. But I’m willing to try if you are. They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he’s met.” Sam approached her with his good old puppy dog eyes. 
“I heard that.” Bucky frowned, unimpressed by Sam’s use of example. 
“I don’t trust charity.” Sharon sighed. 
“All right, a deal then. You help us out, and I get your name cleared.” Sam offered his hand. 
“Well, I sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay outta trouble. I’ll see what I can find.” Sharon took the deal. 
The party seemed to suddenly start. 
Within minutes the whole place was jam packed. Music suffocated the space and the smell of sweat and alcohol was growing.
You stayed in between Sam and Bucky as you walked single file through the gathering. You reached back and linked fingers with Bucky’s to make sure you didn’t get parted in the crowd. 
As the bar came into view, you felt a hand grab your ass. 
“Hey!” Bucky took hold of the stranger and slammed him against the nearest wall. Holding him by the throat. 
Sam was there to diffuse the situation in a second. He placed a. hand on Bucky’s shoulder to pull him away. 
“Lay low remember.” Sam repeated what Sharon had told everyone over the blaring music. 
Bucky released the creep and stepped back. 
That gave you enough space to send your own punch. The man cried out, sliding down the wall and cradling his gushing nose. 
“Looks like she does not need help.” Zemo chimed in. 
You all left the guy without drawing too much attention to yourselves. 
The music wasn’t exactly your taste and you knew that it definitely wasn’t Bucky's but that didn’t stop you from taking him away from Sam and Zemo. 
“What are you doing?” Bucky asked you. 
“Got a bit boring just standing there, no?” You smirked. 
“You can’t expect me to dance to this, can you?” Bucky grimaced at the pulsing beat that classified as music. 
“You can try.” You smirked as you brought yourself closer to the man. 
You moved your body to the music, smiling widely him as he awkwardly tried to sway to it. 
“I thought you were a good dancer?!” You teased Bucky as you watched him. 
“I was!” Bucky defended himself. “When the music was Louis Armstrong and Glenn Miller!” 
You couldn’t help but laugh at the man before wrapping your arm around his neck. 
“You gotta move a bit more like this.” You tried to show him, taking his hand and placing it on your hip. 
Bucky was starting to look a little less like a grandpa as he got into the groove of it. 
His eyes were locked on you, a small smile on his lips. He looked undeniably handsome. 
“I think you’re getting it.” You leant up by his ear to tell him. 
“Well, we can’t look any worse than Zemo.” Bucky pointed through the crowd where Zemo was dancing. 
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You burst into laughter at the sight of the war criminal dancing and buried your face into Bucky’s neck. Bucky laughed next to your ear. It was a rare genuine sound that sent tingles through your head. 
“Come on.. Let’s get some water.” You left the dance floor and rejoined Sam by the bar where he had started to speak to some other guests.
Sharon approached you a little while later with some good news and so you all immediately left the party. 
“Madripoor could give New York a run for its money.” Sam stated as you arrived at the location of Nagel. 
“They know how to party.” Zemo agreed. 
You followed Sharon through the shipping container yard as she searched for the right one.
“With that bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving.” Sharon stopped and pointed over to a red container. “All right. He’s in there. Container four-two-six-one. I’ll watch while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry. We’re on borrowed time.”
“You want me to stick around out here with you in case you run into trouble?” You asked her as you all took an ear piece. 
“I’ll be alright. I’ll call if I need any back up.” Sharon dismissed your offer before walking away. 
You all entered the container cautiously before Sam contacted Sharon. 
“Hey, Sharon. You sure this is the right one? It’s completely empty.” He was right. To the eye, it was empty. 
“Positive. It has to be.” Sharon replied. 
You shared a look between Sam and Bucky as Zemo felt around the. back of the container. 
Suddenly, it shifted and a hidden door opened. 
Soft music played from below along with a muffled voice. 
It has to be Nagel. 
Sam, Bucky and you all went in armed. 
You silently negotiated between each other which urged Sam to go ahead and cut the music. Nagel spun around at the intrusion. 
“Dr. Nagel?” Sam inquired. 
“Who are you? What do you want?” The man wasn’t intimidating and didn't seem to have any weapons around him but you had learnt in the past not to underestimate your opponent.
“We know you created the super-soldier serum.” Sam informed him. 
“Get out of my lab.” Nagel demanded pretty boldly considering Sam was the one with the gun. 
“Hey! You know who he is, right?” Sam asked as he caught the shocked look on Nagel’s face at the sight of Bucky.  This is Baron Zemo. I know you’ve heard of him, too, right? You seem like a pretty smart guy. So you better become conversational real quick.”
“How about a counter proposal? Make me a better offer and I’ll talk.”Nagel smirked. 
“Guys, we have company.” Sharon’s voice whispered through the ear piece. “Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go.” 
“I’ll go up.” You lowered your gun from Nagel and went to turn when Sam stopped you. 
“No, we might need you.” Sam meant he might need your powers. 
“But...” You gestured to your ear. 
“She didn’t ask for back up.” Sam argued. 
You sighed but listened to Sam. 
Bucky moved Nagel over to a chair. He held his gun to the man’s temple. 
“Here’s your counter offer.” Bucky shot next to Nagel’s head which worked wonders to make him talk. 
“Okay. Okay. I was brought into HYDRA’s Winter Soldier program to pick up their work after the five failed test subjects in Siberia. When HYDRA fell, I was recruited by the CIA. They had blood samples from an American test subject with semi-stable traces of serum in his system. After much labor, I was able to isolate the necessary compounds in his blood. I was a god. I did what no other scientist since Erskine was able to do. But mine was going to be different. No clunky machines or jacked up bodies. Mine was going to be subtle, optimized, perfect.”
“How have we never heard about this?” You asked, your eyes flicking over at Sam. 
“Because… Before I was able to complete my work, I turned to dust. Then when I returned, it was five years later, program had been abandoned, so I came here. The Power Broker was more than happy to fund the recreation of my work.” Nagel explained. 
“How many vials did you make?” Sam asked. 
“Twenty. Karli Morgenthau stole those, so I can only imagine what the Power Broker has planned for that poor girl.” 
“Where’s Karli now?”You stepped forward, rolling up your sleeve as a warning.
“I don’t know where she is. But a couple of days ago, she called and asked if I could help someone named Donya Madani. Poor woman has tuberculosis. Typical of overpopulation in displacement camps like that.” You took a mental note of the name Nagel mentioned. 
“Well, what happened to her?” You pushed
“Not my pig. Not my farm.” Nagel shrugged. 
You looked back at Sam with a look asking if you should check if he's telling the truth but Sam shook his head. 
“Is there any serum in this lab?” Bucky asked. 
Nagel sent Bucky a deep glare but Bucky’s gun brought forth the answer. 
“No.”
“Now what?” Bucky asked you and Sam. 
“Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.” Sharon bursted in, looking a little battered. 
All of a sudden, Zemo pulled a gun out and shot Nagel. 
“No!” Sam cried out
You lunged forward and reached for the man’s arm. If you could catch his final moments of life leaving his body you could still get the memories but as you hand touched his skin all you saw was darkness. 
You screamed as you went blind. 
You felt a pair of hands pull you up from the ground to which you could only assume was Bucky. 
“What did you do?!” Sharon gasped at Zemo’s action. 
“I can’t see, Buck.” You felt your whole body go limp in his arms as you muttered those final words before you passed out. 
When you felt your eyes open again, you were out of the container. Gun shots were muffled in your eyes as you heard Bucky and Sam arguing. 
You were covered in dust and you didn’t have your gun. 
“Where’s my gun?” You asked. That’s when the boys realised you were awake. 
You only managed to crawl over to Bucky to take it from him and start to fire. 
Your aim was off from how exhausted you were but the adrenaline was there enough for you to get a good few shots in. 
“Are you okay?” Bucky asked you as the firing stopped. Zemo was busy taking out the remaining bodies so it gave you time to sit back again. 
“Not really.” You shook your head. Your body felt cold and darkness still clouded the corners of your vision. It’s what happened when you tried to get the memories from a dead body, all you could see and feel is death. Your powers only worked on living people or people close to death. 
“Come on.” Bucky lifted you up, tucking his arm underneath you to keep you steady on your feet. 
You only lasted being half dragged/half running before Bucky picked you up. You hated being carried but this was a life or death situation. 
“Buck!” Sam shouted as some more bounty hunters appeared. Bucky put you down and you fell against the container door as he used a broken off pipe to fight them off. 
“Let’s go!” Sam tugged you both inside.
Bucky kicked open the back of the container so you could escape, only for you to be met by Zemo in a swanky getaway car. 
“Supercharged.” Zemo gestured to his ride. 
“You’re going back to jail.” Sam told Zemo. 
“Do you want to find Karli or not?” Zemo asked. 
“He’s right. We need him.” You tried to speak but your throat was hoarse. 
“And there’s only three of us, and at least 20 of them.” Bucky added. 
“Fine. But if you try that shit again...” Sam warned him. 
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Zemo stated. Not that he was to be trusted. 
Sam helped you into the back seat. There was concern painted across his face. 
“Well, that was one hell of a reunion.” Sharon sighed as she placed her hands on the car. 
“Come back to the States with us.” Sam tried to persuade her. 
“I can’t. Just get me that pardon you promised me.” Sharon reminded him of the deal they made. 
“Thanks for everything.” Sam nodded. “You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?”
“No.” Bucky shook his head. 
You laughed weakly as you remembered the same conversation back when Steve was still around. 
Back on Zemo’s plane, you took a position on the small couch with Bucky. You were resting your eyes but trying to stay awake as you listened to the boys talk. 
“Donya Madani. She’s a refugee, yeah.” Sam had contacted Torres about the woman Nagel had mentioned. “Call me if you get a hit. --- Thanks, Torres.”
“You okay?” Bucky asked Sam as Sam slouched down.  
“Yeah. Just thinking about all the shit Sharon had to go through. And Nagel referring to the American test subject like Isaiah wasn’t even a real person. Just makes me wonder how many people have to get steamrolled to make way for this hunk of metal.”
“Well, it depends on who you ask. That hunk of metal saved a lot of lives.” Bucky looked up from cleaning his hand. 
“Yeah, I get that. All right. Maybe I made a mistake.” Sam confessed. 
“You did.” Bucky agreed with that statement and so did you but you kept your eyes closed. 
“Yeah. Maybe I shouldn’t have put it in a museum. Maybe I should have destroyed it.” Sam didn’t say what you expected. 
“Look, that shield represents a lotta things to a lotta people, including me. The world is upside down, and we need a new Cap, and it ain’t gonna be Walker. So before you destroy it, I’ll take it from him myself.” Bucky turned to face Sam as he spoke. You felt the couch shift.
Sam then got a call with the information on Madani. 
“They found Madani… Dead. She died in Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea.”
“I have a place we can go. I, for one, am looking forward to coming face to face with Karli. Oeznik, we’re changing the course.” Zemo’s voice was the last thing you remembered before waking up at landing. 
“Hey sleepy head.” Bucky whispered quietly. He’d rather be caught dead than let Sam hear him say that. 
“Have we landed?” You asked as you rubbed your eyes. 
“Yeah.” Bucky nodded. “Come on.” 
It didn’t take too long to get to Zemo’s place but when you did, Bucky decided to break away. 
“I’m gonna go on a walk.” Bucky announced before you entered the building. 
“You good?” Sam asked. 
“Yeah.” Bucky nodded as he stepped away. 
“Be careful.” You warned him. 
You knew Bucky needed his space sometime but now wasn’t the best time for him to just be wandering the streets. Especially if Walker clocks on it was you three that broke Zemo out of prison. 
“Always.” Bucky winked at you before finally leaving. 
But that was a bad feeling in your gut. 
(PART 4)
Bucky Barnes Tag List
@florencxs @mystictimetravelcolor @yourphotographyteen16@shannon-posts @darkbluenovember @sexwithhiddlesbatch@thefandomimagines @mydarkness-itsnotmyfriend @sad-huffle-nerd @glitchingghosts @themaddies-obx @avenging-parker @delilahsdaydream​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @purplewcrld​ @opheliaaaa​
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shotorozu · 4 years ago
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Could I request for Bakugou with a s/o that really likes to meme on him, but in, secret, so no one knows about it. But on day he finds out. Like they have a bunch of pictures of him and all his ugly faces on their phone. The album probably has the name like: “I love Him, but why does he make such ugly faces lmao” and they have a lot of memes of him too (I saw a meme of him with the caption: “Bakugo, Bakuwait and Bakustop” but his hair was in the colors of a traffic light vgvgvt)
discovering their s/o’s meme collection
character(s) : bakugou katsuki,
legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not specific
headcanon type : fluff-crackish
note(s) : LMAO i’ve seen the bakugo, bakuwait, and bakustop meme it made me hysterical when i first saw it. i also have some massive writers block with one of the posts i was making so rip
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bakugou katsuki
bakugou had NO IDEA what you had on your phone tbh
it was like,, one of the seven mysteries of the world to him.
you were dared to show how many pictures you had in your camera roll, and you had about 1000 pictures
and he’s just like “wtf” 🤨 “how do you still have storage??”
he doesn’t really care that much to the point he’d want to personally take matters into his own hands by snooping
but he’s definitely curious. like.. why don’t you just delete the pictures immediately after it’s use?
so one day, he had your phone bc he was taking cute lil selfies of you while you guys were out on a date.
then he ACCIDENTALLY (and i literally mean it) swipes into the gallery
then he sees why you have 1000 photos
5% of those pictures were school related, 35% were pictures of your friends + bakugou, and 60% of those pictures were
MEMES
they were memes. and not just any memes, they were memes of him.
everytime he swiped to the next picture, it was just a picture of one of his many ugly faces.
there was a photo of him in the sports festival that was captioned “i love him but wtf why is he so ugly here??”
another one of him eating a rather sour candy— his face bunched up in reaction to the candy “LMAO HIS FACE IS SO FUNNY WHDNWSN”
and of course, how could we forget the iconic bakugo, bakuwait, and bakustop meme
bakugou was just 🧍 while looking at each individual meme. he didn’t even know you were THAT type of person— he had no clue you had that many photos dedicated to memes of him
you noticed the rather appalled expression on his face, so you slide next to him to see what he’s looking at
“suki, you’re taking too long,” you look at the phone’s screen, and he’s looking at one of the memes JKWNDMA
“care to explain why you have these?” the rather twisted grin on his face made you realize that,
“YOU FOUND THE MEME COLLECTION-”
“YOU DIDN’T ANSWER THE QUESTION”
“YEAH BUT HOW DID YOU EVEN GET THERE??”
you eventually explained yourself that it all started from denki sending all these different pictures of him to you (specifically) and you just made different memes out of them.
“are you THAT obsessed?” bakugou teases, and he’s expecting you to deny it— but you don’t really do that.
“these memes never fail to make me laugh when i’m sad though, that’s why i always have them.” you confess casually
so, a part of bakugou was like “lol i’m gonna murder that dunce” and another part of him was like “tch. they can keep it ig.”
“just don’t show them to anyone, especially those extras” he hands you your phone, patting the small of your back
“even your mom?-”
“not eVEN HER YOU IDIOT—”
“yeah, yeah. i wasn’t planning on it,” you laugh, and the discussion was left on that.
he does add more pictures of him to your gallery though, but the meme in him honestly comes very naturally
but one day, he was gonna get revenge >:)
likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!
i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby
do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or use my works for audio readings without my permission :))
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