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#the worst kind of door to door sales man
ramlightly · 2 months
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For this exclusive illustration on the patreon, Dandelion does some heavy touching with Basil, presumably because he's bored and Basil hasn't been giving him the proper attention.
You can see this and over 60+ exclusive illustrations on my patreon now! Including the sketches, wips, and some short stories! Plus, now, on the $7 tier, you can vote on a monthly poll for the next illustration!
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fingertipsmp3 · 3 months
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I don’t know what it is but the sound of someone rattling my letterbox is the MOST infuriating noise in the world. Like, I already wasn’t going to answer my door to you, but now I’m really not going to answer my door to you
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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months
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DCxDP: Immunity system
Danny gets confused for Tim Drake when he stop for gas in Gotham on his way to visit Dan. His clone had set up shop- a literary comic book shop- in Metropolis.
Danny was going for the weekend to help him run the red dot sale and also spend time with his Clone turned older brother.
Dan after being released from his prison and getting a Core Cleanse in the FarFrozen ectoplasm iced pools, had mellowed out greatly.
It turns out Dan had gone mad after suffering a dip in contaminated ectoplasm. He called it "Pit Madness" and Clockwork assured him it was a real medical condition
Much like getting bitten by a rabies-infected animal, Dan's condition was not his fault despite turning him violent.
After the Big Reveal with his parents - who took the news surprisingly well- Team Phantom introduced Elle and Dan to them.
The two clones had been quickly made official Fentons and now Danny had an older brother and a young sister.
Elle lived at home with Danny and his parents, but Jazz and Dan moved out after high school graduation. Danny was thinking of moving in with Dan to go to college.
He wasn't sure, but he still had a whole year to decide.
Danny found a gas station within his GPS map and stopped at the closest one. There weren't a lot of people around, so he assumed that was a slow day.
He was not aware the locals avoided the area due to the danger of feuding gangs. He was also unaware that while pumping the gas, a Scarecrow goon was watching him.
That goon knew his boss had been getting a bit bored with his experiments, and he knew it wouldn't be long before his boss turned on his employees to relieve his boredom.
He was just starting to sweat, thinking he would be the new genuine pig until Tim Drake himself rolled out of a beat up car in the bad part of town.
He practically gift-wrapped himself for Scarecrow! The goon grins, creeping up behind the distracted young man.
One of the employees' inside the gas station had clocked Tim Drake too and had been staring at him - how could he not when Tim was a Bi icon?- and sees the moment the goon covers the boy's mouth with a clotch and yank him into a van that speeds away.
For a moment, the employee only gawked after the speeding vehicle, too shook to do anything as it disappears around a corner.
He scrambles for his phone to call 911. He prays that his slow reaction does not cost Drake's life.
(His call's transcript pings on Oracle's program designed to pick up the civilian names of the Bats if ever used in the emergency hotlines)
Sadly it is hours before the Bats have even an idea of where Tim (actually Danny) was taken to.
Danny wakes up in a warehouse, strapped to a table. He only had a brief moment of thinking his worst fear was coming true ,his parents, were going to rip him apart molecular by molecular, despite it being two years since they learn.
Thankfully a man dressed in a ridiculous Halloween costume steps into the light and he knows it's not his parents.
"Lovely expression Mr. Drake. Let's see how lovely that fear truly is," the man says in a raspy voice, holding up a needle. He stabs Danny with it and the boy blanches as the hot liquid enters his blood stream.
A minute goes by.
Two.
Three.
"Ugh was that supposed to do something?" He questioned, moving around his restraints to check his chances of escape without outing himself as Phantom.
The camera pointing at him limits his options.
The man dressed as Scarecrow lets out a gleeful cackle. He doesn't answer Danny, instead turning to the door- from where Danny can lift his head, it looks like he's in a basement of some kind- and shouts, "Bring me experiment six two six!"
A bulky man comes in carrying a tray of tubes. Danny watches as Scarecrow carefully selects a tube and pours it into another needle. "Lets see how you handle this"
The answer is Danny handles it very well. In fact he takes all seven tubes without a single reaction. Honestly it's the needle that's a real bother.
Scarecrow is both impressed and slightly insulted by the end of it. "How did a simpleton chloroform work on you but not my brilliant science!?"
Danny squints at him. "I would call this many things but never science, let alone brilliant, you fruitloop."
He gets knocked out again for his cheek with a new chloroform rag.
He wakes to the same made leaning over him again, but this time, there is also a clown in purple. Danny can only stare as the clown cackles.
"I think you're losing your special touch if Tim Drake is immune to your Fear Gas." The clown says, and Danny wonders if a costume convention exists in town.
Danny is happy to see that besides being knocked out and tied him down they haven't really done anything to him. "Who are you supposed to be?"
The clown face spams before a wide, mad grin breaks across his face. If Danny were to look of the definition of madness in a dictionary he knows this guy would be the example for it.
"I'm just a simple chum who wants to see the world laugh," The clown tells him, holding a squirt flower in Danny's face. "Let's see that smile!"
Danny squeaks as the liquid splashes in his face, some going up his nose. He coughs while the two men stare intensely at him.
After a moment Danny gets himself under control. "Ugh what was that? Is smell nasty"
The clown face freezes, rage bleeding into his eyes as the scarecrow one scoffs "seem you are also losing your touch, chum"
"No no no. Our little friend just needs a higher dosage! I'll have him laughing in no time!"
He doesn't. After a gas tank full of that nasty-smelling stuff is forced onto his face, and five different needles stabbed into his arm the clown is forced to admit Danny is immune.
They still call him "Mr. Drake" even though Danny tells them between needles that's not his name.
After hours of attempting to get a reaction out of him- both by clown and scarecrow- , Danny is knocked out again by the little rag.
When he comes two three people stand over him. The two from before, though clown now looks murderous and scarecrow politely interested, and a women in green with leaves splat across her outfit.
So Danny got kidnapped by a Scarecrow, a clown, and a nymph? Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.
The gas mask is forced back onto his face and another Danny struggles he can do nothing as he is forced to breath in a new gas.
The woman watches his reaction with a keen eye before nodding "He should be pretty far gone now"
Scarecrow shakes his head. "There isn't a single reaction. He isn't affected by your pheromones."
The woman scoffs, leaning over Danny and fluttering her eyelashes "You're going to kill dear old dad for me"
Danny glares at her. "Like hell, I will."
His voice is muffled by the mask but they hear him and the woman actually looks shocked "He might need a higher dosage "
"By all means, give it a try. Neither Joker or I saw a difference in Mr.Drake even after adjusting his intake."
"How is that possible?"
"Maybe because you all suck!"
The clown slams his hands on the table. "I am one of the best chemists in the world, brat!"
"And the ugliest!"
Danny doesn't see the knife until it's pressed repeatedly into his left leg. He screams around his mask as the Clown spits and swears at him.
The other two only watch, neither seemingly bothered by the man stabbing a teenager.
Then the knife is plunged into his stomach, and he screams as the world almost whites out in agony.
Danny, blinks the white hot pain, and is just barely thinking of going ghost when the door bursts open and a group of people wearing more costumes pour in.
A man dressed as a Bat flings the clown away with an outraged cry. Danny can't see where the clown lands, but he hears fighting all around him.
A boy in a hood and mask appears in his line of sight. There is a worried frown on his face as he quickly picks at the locks keeping Danny down "Do not worry, Drake, we are here."
Danny finally gives in to the pain, running to blissful darkness as a man in a red helmet lifts him off the bed and makes a run for the door.
The kid provided cover for them.
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pricegouge · 23 days
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hi hello just wanted to tell you that the wellies story with gaz and price is such a delight, everything about it is *chef's kiss*
I think Price would keep the hat, though, and wear it to the bar where Reader is having her date/make up date. Because then she HAS to storm up to Price and demand it back??? HOURS of handcrafting, Gaz unhelpfully being like "the color suits him :)" Price not-so-subtly delighted at ALL of this (also he does kind of like the hat. Maybe he can convince you to make him one in a different color?)
Gaz asks you to point out your date (someone who immediately clocks as ick. Like a stock broker finance bro type?) and Gaz immediately vetoes that. That guy isn't your date anymore. He and Price are! Now, about this camera they owe you....
Price in a knit fuchsia cap got me fuckin' good. Sorry this took so long! Even more sorry I'm posting unedited, but if I look at this any longer I'll blow up so here we go
(follow up to this)
The worst part is, once you see him in it, shining like a neon sign from clear across the bar, you understand completely why they'd had to unceremoniously rip it off your head that day. Even here, surrounded as he is by the general visual noise of the city and patrons who are by no means dressed to blend in, the man sticks out like a sore thumb. (Made no better for the fact that he still stands head and shoulders above all those around him, of course, but that's beside the point.) You can only imagine how garishly you'd stood out among the stretch of that green meadow, how much you'd jeopardized not only their mission but their very lives by simply being there.
Of course, that knowledge does nothing to soothe the anger that rises within you when you see the men responsible for ruining your last (better) dating prospect waltz in on your current one as if their only new objective is to ruin your night again while wearing the handmade hat you're now realizing they'd stolen from you. (You'd thought you'd misplaced it on the bus last week. One moment it was there, the next gone. Now you wonder how you could have missed either of them sitting aboard public transportation, or how long they'd been following you to now conveniently show up in at least two of the same places you were.)
You stare daggers at the two of them. John ignores you, pink cap bobbing through the crowd as he makes his way to the bar. Kyle posts up at a booth and smirks at you openly, unabashedly. He's impossibly more attractive outside of the grease paint and twig mass. You ignore the delightful flip your belly does when he clocks the way you take in the breadth of him, how he tests the seams of his button down, and his smirk turns to the kind of smile that should require a legal registry.
"What are you looking at?"
You startle a bit when a big head floats into your field of vision, Jeremiah's frown completely obscuring the much better view you'd just been staring down. He swivels to look behind himself, head rotating like an automatic, unmanned security camera. Observing, but not seeing anything. 
As far as prospects had gone, Jeremiah had been one of the least favorite matches you'd made on your little dating app; but after the failure from a few weeks past you'd been getting desperate, and his nice hair combined with his clever sales pitch tongue had eventually wooed you after enough messaging. Unfortunately, thirty seconds after meeting him in person you'd realized your initial instinct had indeed been right when he'd tried negging your outfit in the same breath he'd used to greet you at the door. He hadn't even chosen a good place to meet. With the way he dressed and spoke, you'd almost been looking forward to the novelty of some swanky bar uptown, but the pub he'd given you the name of was barely better than a hole in the wall. A dying fern stood in the corner, its only source of sustenance the light up dart board on its right, and the empty mugs surrounding it, the tacky puddle in its water pan suggesting it was a popular place to pour one's dregs out into. The sticky table felt like a fly trap, suggesting either years of buildup which had grown resistant to bleach, or a general incompetence on management's part as to how proper cleaning worked. You've no idea why you'd even stayed. Perhaps just a desire to stay out of the house. Part of you knows it's actually a desire to get laid so strong you're willing to overlook his shortcomings so long as you can clamp a hand over his mouth later and ride him until you're satisfied, but you don't want to look too closely at that part of you.
"Apologies. There's a man over there I recognize."
"Oh? Should I be worried?" His expression is genial enough when he asks, but his eyes keep something slightly colder at bay. Annoyance, perhaps. Not jealousy, you don't think. Not yet, at least. Probably hasn't actually clocked Kyle yet.
You should soothe him, you know. Coo reassurances, stutter through excuses and make up lies about just knowing them from your uni days or something. But then you remember Kyle's clever tongue, his blatant flirting. You remember John's heavy hands on you and the way they'd joked about keeping you all night. You're annoyed with them, more so when you remember how they'd left you high and dry after handing you off to the wolves back at base to tear into and question. But they're here now, have been for days, potentially, you're reminded when John ducks his head back into the booth, the subtle streaks of tinsel in the yarn you'd used glowing under the pendant light. He's got three drinks with him, sends you a casual wink when he spots you staring.
"Yes."
Jeremiah sputters. "Sorry?"
"Yes. You should be worried," you clarify casually. "Excuse me."
The boys aren't subtle about watching you as you approach, though Gaz leans into his captain's space to whisper something in his ear which makes his mustache twitch distractedly. It takes you a minute to pick your way over to them. You don't have much of a game plan beyond demanding your hat back, and hopefully garnering some insight as to why they're following you, but that doesn't explain the thrill you feel when their eyes trail you, or the way your mouth runs dry when you realize you're going to have to talk to them this time, no convenient excuse of situational silence keeping you from putting your foot in your mouth. You tell yourself you're at least not likely to drift off under one of them this time, and then suppress a heavy swallow when you realize you don't actually want that to be true. It's why your voice isn't quite as strong as you'd hoped when you approach their table, skipping formalities and demanding to know what they're doing here.
It's like they can smell your apprehension, John content to just keep smirking at you while Kyle responds with the kind of cocky voice you would hate on anyone else, but just serves to remind you how much the tone is earned when he uses it. "Can't a captain treat his favorite sergeant to a drink after work anymore?"
It's the phrasing that catches your attention, momentarily distracting you from reaching out and ripping your hat off John's head. It's too familiar to Jeremiah's own proposition for the evening, too jarring when used in relation to military work. "You've been following me," you state bluntly, wondering if it's possible they've even bugged your phones.
"Only a lot," Kyle agrees cheekily.
"Why?"
"Had to make sure you weren't going 'round telling everyone what you'd seen, petal," John grumbles, voice just as deep and dark as you remember. It's hard to hear him over the din of the pub. You tell yourself that's why you lean into him a bit when he speaks, though you turn it into a snatching motion easily enough.
"That why you stole my hat?" 
John deflects you casually, turning your hand away somehow both deftly and gently. His grip changes once he has you under control, turning instead to guide you into the booth next to him. His arm finds the seat back behind you, but you stubbornly remain leaning forward, refusing to ease into him this time.
"Cap didn't steal it," Gaz corrects, eyes lingering on the captain's hand where he still grips your wrist. "I did."
It's hard to accept the fact that Kyle could ever escape your notice, but you suppose he's earned his position in life for a reason. "Right." You round on John, "So did you lose a bet?"
The captain chuckles. His thumb smoothes along the heel of your hand and then is gone, tipping the amber whiskey of his drink absently. "Won one, actually. Gaz here wanted to be the one to wear it."
"Would've looked better with my complexion," the other man reasons, batting his pretty eyes at you exaggeratedly. Far behind him, you spot your date sputtering indignantly to a waitress, the poor girl's face clearly disinterested. So much for your shoe-in. You refuse to acknowledge why that doesn't bother you as much as it would have even just five minutes ago.
"Yeah, well, if I only got to wear the things I wear better, I'd be walking around naked," John gripes goodnaturedly. "Isn't that right, flower?"
Kyle saves you from sputtering out an answer by sighing wistfully. "If only."
John smirks indulgently at him and you blink away, feeling like an outsider when you see the older man's hand disappear under the table, movement suggesting he's rubbing Kyle's leg. You try not to remember how it felt to have those heavy hands on you. "Can I get my hat back, please?"
"Well, at least you remembered your manners this time," John grumbles. You'd try snatching it off his head again just for the commentary, if you weren't becoming increasingly certain it would land you sprawled across his lap.
"Where you rushing off to anyway?" Kyle adds. He slides the third drink in front of John your way. "Drink with us."
You eye the fruity, fluorescent monstrosity before you skeptically. They don't seem the type to meet barely legal ladies out for a drink in a tiny place like this, but you can't imagine they'd had anyone else in mind when John had ordered whatever this was. "You expecting someone younger?"
John's low laugh makes his mustache twitch. "Heard once that a good rule of thumb if you don't know someone's drink order, is to try and match their outfit." He ducks his chin, looking you over from under his brow. In theory, it should seem more judgemental than appraising, but you still feel like he's assessing your outfit by removing it first.
Self consciously, you run your hand over the flowery blue dress you have on, distracting yourself from thinking too hard about what it meant that he'd bought you a drink. You suppose the color is a bit electric, but the way it fits more than makes up for its flashiness. Or at least, you'd thought it did. Now, seeing it paired with some stomach turning blue curaçao concoction, you feel much less certain about that. "You heard wrong. Besides, I can't stay. I'm on a date," you sniff. You probably shouldn't drink anything handed to you by men you knew were stalking you anyway.
Kyle shrugs agreeably, swapping your drink for his simple rum and coke as he asks who you're out with. You eye it warily, but spot the smudge of Kyle's own lips on the edge so you figure it's safe enough to drink, though you make a point of wiping it off, sneering at Kyle when he laughs at you. 
"Stock broker Jeremiah," you recite, trying to keep the jeer from your tone. You motion back behind yourself. "Over there." 
"Stock broker?" John repeats, voice so thick the words fall from his lips like smoke. You think you spot a smirk hidden in his chops. 
"That your type, luv?"
"Not particularly," you admit. "But he'll have to do, seeing as the last one didn't take too kindly to being stood up."
Kyle tuts, tone too amused to be sympathetic. "Didn't believe you'd been laid up?"
"Should've had him call us, flower. We could've vouched for you," John suggests. Somehow, you know introducing these two to any prospective partners would be a terrible idea.
Still, it sounds amusing.
You shrug, wishing you had a beer bottle to peer the label off of. "Jeremiah makes good money," you offer, the only thing you can really remember from Jeremiah's profile. John hums, lower than the din of the room. Kyle's face is too blank, the same strict discipline he used with his cheek glued to his rifle. Briefly, you're back under John, the din of the surrounding crowd swallowed up by your twin heartbeats. Your eyes flick between the two, take in the tight control of their expressions. It would probably fool most, but you've spent your fair share of time studying the minutiae of faces, the way muscles twitch under stimuli no matter how properly trained the model. Even dead tissue will contract when properly motivated. "He's just bought me a new camera, in fact."
Gaz scoffs. John's eyes narrow. The two exchange sidelong glances and you sip your drink. You'd believed John when he'd said he'd replace your camera, but after being split up at base he'd never located you again and no one had been very forthcoming with information as to how you could contact your new friends to collect. A week after the incident, a cheap, basic camera and a base model macro lens had appeared on your step, the packaging cold and impersonal, shipped direct from the warehouse. No new boots ever came. The camera hadn't been anywhere near as nice as the one you'd lost, but it wasn't like there was a calling card you could air your grievances to so you'd cut your losses and just thanked whoever was listening that you'd even made it out of that valley alive. Now, however, watching the men who'd promised to take care of everything have their pride bruised by some asshole in a button up too expensive to deign resting his silken elbows on the dirty table of the bar he'd decided you were fit for, the weeks of frustration almost seemed worth it. And so what if it wasn't true anyway?
"Excuse me." 
Your date's sudden appearance nearly makes you jump out of your skin, the prospect of introducing him to these men suddenly far less appealing when John rumbles, "Don't think I will."
Jeremiah sneers at him before turning to you. "I'm heading out. Don't think this -," he motions between the two of you, lets his finger swirl around the table to include the boys when the motion peters out, "- is for me. Have a good one, yeah?"
"Oh, um, okay. Sor-."
John stops you. "Don't apologize to him, petal. It's him there owes you one."
"And why would I need to apologize?" 
"Existing?" Kyle suggests.
"Wasting her time?" John tacks on. 
"Insulting my dress," you decide.
Kyle's tsk noise draws your attention. When you look, he's got those exaggeratedly huge eyes darting between you and your date. "When it fits you like that?" he clarifies, making you blush.
"Right wanker," John agrees. His voice is still playful, but the look he's leveling Jeremiah with is anything but. 
"It's - it's -. It's blue!" your date sputters, waving at you as if your offense should be obvious.
John leans close, mustache tickling your ear. "Sounds like a man who can't appreciate a good pair of obnoxiously yellow wellies."
"You threw my wellies in the creek," you counter, too amused to muster much anger.
"Bought you new ones," Kyle offers and you narrow your eyes at him because, following you or not, there's no way they could know -.
"What size?"
Kyle just grins. "On the first date?"
"On our first date," Jeremiah reminds you.
You ignore them both, rounding on John. "And you ripped off my hat!" To illustrate your point, you attempt to snatch it back again, but the captain ducks it just as easily as he did the first time.
"I'll give it back when you make me a new one."
"Wait, I stole it fair and square," Kyle counters. John doesn't dodge him as easily, the silver streaks of his dark, mussed hair catching the light just like your yarn did. He doesn't even bother trying to snatch it back, watching with fond eyes as Kyle replaces his hat with your own. He'd been right, he does wear it better.
"If I make you one too, will you give it back?"
"Fat chance," the sergeant scoffs, and with an expert toss, he saucers his own hat onto your head, grinning like a fool when you let John tug it more firmly on. 
A scoff behind you draws their attention. John glares over your shoulder again, but Kyle just waves, cheeky enough to elicit another humorless laugh. Byt the time you turn around, your date's already on his way. You're not particularly upset by it, figuring even if… whatever this is… doesn't pan out to anything, at least you'll have spent the evening in better company than originally planned.
The boys are both staring at you when you look back. You don't bother acting disappointed, though you know there's a version of this evening that sees you spitting mad, being soothed and gentled like a finicky horse with big hands and hushed tones. As appealing as it sounds, you'd rather spend your time actually talking, making up for your first meeting with them when you couldn't do much beyond gripe about your position, or whine about being bored. So instead you shrug, and the boy's smirks turn leery, and you suppress a shiver when Kyle leans across the table toward you, voice low when he asks what kind of camera 'the suit' bought you.
You panic in your response a bit, all higher end models you've had your eyes on for weeks fleeing your brain. Instead you tell them about the cheap thing you'd received in the mail and John scoffs.
"Got you something much better," he promises, pulling his phone from one of his many pockets and flicking through it. When he turns it toward you, an email confirmation tells him his package has been delivered, the details of the order showing the next model up from the very one he'd thrown in the brook. The description of the lens is cut off at the bottom, but you've no doubt you'll be happy enough when you see the pricing details. "You'll forgive the delay, of course. Man's gotta do some research, after all."
You'd even forgive the wellies continuing to go unreplaced, though in your excitement you forget to express that. "Of course. Of course! Thank you so much, John!" You're still gushing gratitudes when you slip out of the booth, turning to excuse yourself so quickly you even forget to snatch your hat back.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"To go get -?" You stall, taking in their confused - even slightly miffed - expressions. "Look, if that package sits on my stoop too long, my neighbors will -."
Kyle laughs, crooks his finger at you. It's embarrassing how quickly you oblige, slipping right back into your seat just because his eyes are too warm and inviting to disappoint. 
John's voice is much closer than you remember it being before you'd stood, the low rumble in his chest a physical thing you feel against your shoulder when he leans close. "No need to worry, petal. It's back at mine. Safe as houses."
"Didn't have your address," Kyle winks. 
It's weird, the way you can laugh at jokes about being followed. You decide not to think about it too much. "Sounds more like an elaborate plot to get me back at yours."
"Well, we're unused to not getting our mark," John confesses, "had to have another shot at it."
Kyle's cheeky when he responds, his boyish grin enough to have you settling against John before you even know what you're about. "For the record, I never did take a shot the first time."
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fredwkong · 1 year
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Sneakerhead
(inspired by a prompt from the incredibly welcoming @idesofrevolution​ )
It started because of some shoes.
Joel really wanted some classic Air Jordans, the 4s, black with red accents. He’d been having some trouble dating lately, passing out of his early 20s, when girls just wanted a guy who used deodorant. In their late 20s girls wanted shit like 401(k)s and moving in together. Joel’s solution? Date younger.
To do that, he needed some new style. He’d been grabbing streetwear for a while, but the Js would be the centrepiece, what he needed to perfectly set off distressed jeans and an oversized flannel. With his slender frame and boyish looks, with some new style Joel was sure his clean lifestyle would attract plenty of younger dates.
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The shoes remained elusive, however. Too expensive to buy new, impossible to thrift. Finally, a gay guy acquaintance of Joel’s mentioned Sneaker Swap, a trade/sale site. He offered to send Joel a special invite link, an unreadable look in his eyes. Apparently this link would fast track Joel’s account progress somehow, give him unique access to shoes. Some gay kink thing, probably, Joel thought.
When he got home from the bar where he and the guy had met up, Joel followed the link and downloaded the app. The app took a while to load, he noticed, but the loading spiral was pretty nice to look at, so it was fine. It was one of the Js in the middle of several swirling concentric circles with a rainbow pattern.
Finally, the app loaded, inviting Joel to make an account. He input his shoes size, blinking at the afterimage of the spiral in his vision. When the main page loaded, and sneakers started to populate across the screen, his dick jumped unexpectedly, probably a side effect of being so close to finally having his Js and getting a date.
The guy Joel finally ended up buying his Js from lived across town, so Joel drove to his house to make the trade. As soon as he pulled up, he noticed a rainbow flag in the front window. The guy had seemed pretty intelligent and straightforward while Joel negotiated, but when he opened the door the guy seemed totally out of it. He barely remembered agreeing to the trade, he tried to grope Joel’s ass, and worst of all, all he was wearing were some tight boxer briefs and his sneakers, which gave off kind of a funky smell.
The dumb guy left Joel standing next to his shoe rack while he went to go find the Jordans and their box. As he waited, a distinctive smell started to fill Joel’s nose, the rich, buttery aroma rising off of the pile of used shoes in the rack. This guy must not own any socks, Joel thought in disgust. If those Js were gonna smell this bad, he might need to look for a new pair. He started to load sneaker swap, watching the spiral turn for several seconds.
Maybe the smell wasn’t that bad, he realised, sniffing the air again. It wasn’t like he wanted his feet to smell like that, but it wasn’t so surprising for a guy to want to fill his shoes with his essence. Mark his territory. Show off his manliness.
Joel had drifted back toward the shoe rack by the time the guy came back with the shoes. He spotted the Sneaker Swap app, still loading on Joel’s phone.
“Huhu, what a great app,” the guy grunted, handing over the shoebox. “Totally changed my life, bro.”
“Uh, thanks, man,” Joel said, handing over cash for the Js and pocketing his phone. He wrinkled his nose at the smell coming off the guy’s hairy muscles. “Thanks for the shoes.”
“Totally,” the gay guy’s eyes zeroed in on the bulge in Joel’s pants. Joel hadn’t even noticed his erection. “Hey bruh, if you want to,” the guy paused and licked his lips, “trade sneakers again sometime, hit me up.”
Joel beat a hasty retreat back to his car.
As he drove home, he kept thinking about the smell of that guy’s shoes. It was almost like it was still in his head, fogging up his brain. In fact, it was getting stronger. Joel pulled over and grabbed the shoebox from his passenger seat. He hadn’t smelled it in the house, but his fancy new Js were impregnated with the smell of the guy’s feet. Joel groaned, now he would have to figure out how to clean the shoes without ruining them.
Joel kept the shoes in a box in the back of his front closet, not wanting to have to smell them while he figured out how to wash off the stench. By the time he had finished his dinner, though, a faint foot funk was permeating his kitchen like a haze. Those shoes were powerful. Joel loaded up Sneaker Swap. Maybe they had a forum that could help. At the very least, he wanted to comment on the guy’s profile so other people knew what they were getting into.
The loading spiral was so relaxing. Joel could just sit and watch it… Some time later, Joel found himself looking at the main page of the app. When had it gotten so dark? He’d been about to do something on the app. He was going to—he was going to look for more shoes, right. He was already planning more outfits with different pairs.
The next morning, Joel was leaving for work when he saw the Js he’d bought yesterday sitting out on his shoerack, their smell eye-watering at close range. Had he put them there? He must have. The smell seemed different today, more complex and deeper, there was almost an appeal to having it filling him up… Joel shook his head. He should have looked up how to clean them last night, his whole house was gonna smell if this kept up. He went to open the Sneaker Swap app, and watched the spiral load.
He was nearly late for work, he spent so long looking at shoes to buy. How was he getting so absentminded lately? He must have had a latent interest in cool shoes this whole time, he reasoned.
The pattern continued. Every time Joel passed through his entryway, he smelled the musky Jordan 4s on his shoerack. He thought about cleaning them or putting them away, and started to load up Sneaker Swap, then got distracted by looking at shoes. It was starting to affect other parts of his life, too. A girl at work commented on how spacey and airheaded Joel had been acting lately. He just shrugged, unable to think of an answer other than, “Sorry, head’s full of shoe stink.”
By the time his next paycheck came through, Joel had three different pairs on hold with local bros. He was jittery and excited all morning, then loaded up into his car for an afternoon driving around to make the trades.
It was… weird. Joel couldn’t put his finger on it, but all three of the guys he met were different than he’d expected. Maybe it was how slow and stupid their voices were, or their nudity, or the fact none of them had washed or put on deodorant. All three wore their sneakers in their houses, and all three had a pile of smelly shoes by the front door. But every time Joel tried to think about it, the smell of all the shoes seemed to overtake his mind. All three guys had such unique scents to them, Joel found himself fascinated.
On the drive home, Joel barely noticed the three pairs of shoes stinking up his car, too busy thinking about how all those shoes had smelled at the source, where the guys he’d bought his Js from kept all their dirty sneakers. In a daze, he carried the three smelly boxes into his house and absently set the three new pairs of shoes next to the first, which he still hadn’t tried on. He kept meaning to clean them, he should look up how on Sneaker Swap… The loading spiral was so captivating…
Later, Joel found himself sitting on the floor next to his shoerack, his phone open to Sneaker Swap in one hand and one of his new Js in the other. Another couple shoes were in his lap. He took in the complex, different scents of each of the guys he’d bought them from, some salty, some bitter, and one even an almost sweet scent. It was like a signature, their unique trace on the shoes, something he’d be honoured to add to now that he’d inherited the legacy from them.
The next morning, Joel sniffed himself and decided he probably didn’t have to shower this morning. He looked at the deodorant on his bathroom counter, puzzled, and then threw it in the trash. While he ate breakfast, Joel loaded up Sneaker Swap and, after watching the spiral for a while, started looking at shoes. When he got ready for work, he grabbed the first pair of Js he’d bought and shoved his socked feet into their musky interior without a second thought.
Joel had the style now, but he noticed that he was having even more trouble scoring dates now. Girls seemed put off by the manly smell that Joel was building up. He’d started going to the gym more, and showers just seemed so much less important than building up his personal brand of musk to fill in to his shoes. At one bar, a girl wrinkled her nose at him as soon as Joel came up to the bar and she fled. Meanwhile, a passing boy in some little sexy shorts paused walking past Joel, nostrils flaring. Joel watched as the guy’s little dick suddenly tented out his tiny package, and smirked when their eyes met.
He was noticing guys more and more lately. At first, it was just their shoes, like the spiral from Sneaker Swap appeared around the feet of any guy in Js. He kept wondering what it would be like to smell a guy’s feet for real, rather than just through getting his musky shoes. His collection was growing, and each time he went to get new shoes the guys he traded with got more fun. Their houses were full of such hot scents, and their hot, smelly bods looked and smelled so good. They kept pressing up against Joel as they passed him their shoes, passing on their musk to him to take care of. It was so hot.
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As much as he loved the thick, musky smell permeating his house now, Joel still hadn’t gone all the way and stuck his face in one of his Js. He didn’t know if he could take the smell that close to the source. The day he brought home his tenth pair of shoes, though, Joel decided that his little collection deserved to be commemorated on his Sneaker Swap profile. He opened up the app and watched the loading spiral.
He recollected himself as he hit “post” on his new profile pic. He looked at it. His Js were neatly laid out on the shoerack, but off to the side, there he was, in the picture, his face buried in one of the 4s, the first ones he’d bought with the red accents. As likes and comments started to pour in from the guys he’d bought the shoes from, a chorus of “bruh” and “noice” and “sniff that sneak, dude” Joel realised that he was still holding the shoe over his mouth and nose.
Right in the back of his mind, Joel had an instant of fear. Was this really him? This stinky sneakerhead? He’d been different before, clean-cut and even straight! He instinctively took a deep breath, and his negative feelings vanished as all his thoughts were overcome with the salty, musky tang of the shoe, so much stronger at close range that it was a physical sensation on his tongue. Joel’s growing foot stench had blended with the buttery scent of that first dumb himbo he’d bought the shoes from.
It felt like his whole mind was being filled up with musk, slowing his thoughts down like they were moving through molasses. Everything was perfectly fine. He had his shoes, he had his musk, and his big cheesy cock. Life was pretty much perfect for a dumb sneakerhead like him.
The next morning, Joel woke up in bed, cradling one of his Js against his face like when he’d fallen asleep. He didn’t bother putting on more than some boxers and a used pair of socks, sticking his feet into a pair of sneakers as he got out of bed. A new user on Sneaker Swap wanted to buy a pair of his 4s, and after that he’d invited the guy he’d bought his first pair from to come over and check out his collection. Hopefully Joel would be able to get his mouth on that guy’s hot, smelly feet this time.
He needed to message that guy who’s given him the link to this app. Maybe he could give him a reward, Joel thought, kneading his weeping cock through his boxers.
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thelastspeecher · 14 hours
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Here's a little bit more in my Horse Boy Stan AU. Just after Stan turns into a horse, and how he winds up with the McGuckets.
;)
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                 Stan stomped his hooves anxiously as he waited his turn.  Jimmy Snakes had left town as soon as he found an upcoming auction to sell him at, frustrated that Stan refused to be broken.  The money would be wired to him after the sale.
                 Stan felt a shiver run down his spine.  He was going to be sold.
                 At least last week could’ve been worse.  Jimmy could have dropped me off at a place that treated me like shit.  But the stables holding the auction boarded and fed Stan, and were kind in all their interactions with him.  Except for the upsettingly thorough examinations to determine the minimum price he would be worth.  Stan lowered his head.  I just want this whole nightmare to be over.
                 The people at stable hadn’t been able to break Stan, but he was still defeated.  There wasn’t even a glimmer of hope that he could escape.
                 “Lot 17, a buckskin Irish Draught stallion,” the auctioneer announced.  The boy holding Stan’s lead brought him out of the wings and onto the stage.  There was some murmuring from the gathered crowd.  Stan felt a strange twinge of pride that made him stand at attention.  He knew from the people at the stable that he was considered a high-quality horse, despite lacking a formal pedigree.  “Wild or feral caught, no paperwork, unknown age though he is fully grown, and unbroken.”  The murmuring grew louder, then died down.  The auctioneer seemed to notice the apparent loss of interest.  “He would serve as a good workhorse.  Or, as he is intact, stud fer workhorses.  We’ll start the biddin’ at four thousand.”
                 “Four thousand!” a voice shouted.  Stan looked at the crowd, quickly zeroing in on the sole person interested in buying him.  It was a young man about his age, with dark hair and a large nose that took up most of his face.  A young man next to him, with blond hair, elbowed him and whispered something.  Stan’s potential buyer shrugged off whatever the other man said.
                 “Any other takers?” the auctioneer asked.  He sounded disappointed, though Stan wasn’t sure why.
                 I’ve never been worth four thousand bucks in my life!  No one else spoke up.
                 “Going, going, gone,” the auctioneer said.  He slammed the gavel.  “The buckskin goes to Lute McGucket.”  He raised an eyebrow.  “I assume yer father will come by with the money fer him?”
                 “Sure thing, Mr. Smith!” the man, Lute, called.  Chuckles sounded from the crowd as Stan was led backstage and into a stall to wait.
                 Thankfully, Stan didn’t have to wait long.  Within about fifteen minutes, two voices sounded, getting louder as they approached Stan’s stall.
                 “He ain’t broken, Lute.”
                 “My fam’ly’s got a way with horses, you know that.”
                 “And what’ll ya do if ya can’t break him?  Rent him out fer stud?  Without papers, no one would pay a cent!”
                 “Look, we’ll figure it out.”  The two people from before came to a stop in front of Stan.  “I can tell there’s somethin’ special ‘bout this feller,” Lute said.  His friend crossed his arms.
                 “I don’t know if yer right.”  He sighed.  “But it ain’t my business, so I’ll drop it.”  Lute’s friend began to walk away.  “I’ll see ya and this new stallion tomorrow.”
                 “Sounds good!” Lute called.  He turned to Stan.  “All right, feller, let’s get ya out of here.”  He pulled a lead out of his pocket and attached it to Stan’s halter.
                 Okay, first impression, he’s not the worst.  I guess.  Lute opened the door to Stan’s stall and led him out of the stable.  A different stallion was patiently waiting, tied to a post.  Lute smiled at Stan.
                 “This here is my usual steed, Tuesday.  He’s a gelding, but don’t worry, we won’t geld ya.”  Lute winked.
                 Uh.  I don’t think I want to know what he’s talking about.
                 “I can tell yer not the kind of stallion we would geld,” Lute continued.  “But not so’s we could stud ya.  No, it’s ‘cause yer special.”  He cocked his head.  “What’s yer name?”
                 “Stan,” Stan whinnied instinctively.  He winced.
                 Dammit, think!  Why bother telling him, he won’t understand!
                 “Stan,” Lute repeated.  Stan’s jaw dropped.  Lute grinned.  “Just like yer special, I am, too.”  He mounted his horse and tied the lead to his saddle.  “Let’s get ya home and sorted out, okay?”
                 How the hell did he know what I said?  Lute winked again.  Eh, fuck it, I don’t care.  He understood me, and that’s all that matters.  Stan eagerly followed Lute and Tuesday, for the first time since this whole mess started, feeling optimistic.
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wisteriainslumber · 2 years
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what types of students are the twst characters
in which i turn nrc into a public school
i cannot confirm nor deny my involvement in any of these scenarios
Warnings: swearing, cr*wley, mentions of drugs and alcohol, caters nicknames, and school
Riddle
i truly wish not even my worst enemy the pain of setting next to this boy
imagine getting back a test with 90% and feeling proud of it then the dude beside you gets a 98%
and this will happen for every assignment, test, group project
in fact, sitting next to him guarantees being paired up for projects together. the inferiority complex is building. this is truly the azul arc
you will get no sympathy from him. the project thats due in 5 days that you still havent started? what an irresponsible student. you reap what you sow.
truly makes you want to stab him with a mechanical pencil. maybe even get some lead stuck in there and make him think he’s poisoned
he has everything you could possibly need, including more miscellaneous supplies like staplers, hole punchers, highlighters, even compasses.
if you ask nicely he'll lend them to you but you best give them back by the end of the class lest you induce his wrath
people are more scared of him than they are of the teachers. most people dont believe the heartslabyul students when they say that riddle is nice to them
oh but he is. he tutors them and is thorough with it. he knocks on everyones door during lights out to say goodnight to them. no one forgets anything for school trips bc riddle quadruple checks.
has some busted ass phone. imagine some crunchy notifications sounds from it. it blares in the room in the middle of the lecture and its so funny every time
since then riddle keeps his phone out of the classroom or outright silences it. if you have an emergency, have it outside of class hours please and thank you
brings a million layers to school bc hes always getting cold and then hot two hours later can someone pls help him
oh but don’t underestimate him, even if hes sick on his death bed he will show up to class anyway. you know those kids that definitely got fever but their parents still send them to school? yeah, like jade needs to physically drag him into the infirmary before he gives up and reluctantly goes home to rest
lets hope its not exam season he will be hacking n’ coughing and sniffling miserably someone get this man a cough drop i think he just ran out
Trey
not up to date on the latest gossip but knows some of the weirdest, nichest shit around campus. literally this was stuff you didn’t even think you had to be warned about
warns you of the drug zones around the school and helps you stay clear of the places students usually hook up
warns you about that bathroom that got flooded because some kid took a shit in the urinal and clogged the pipes😍😍 dont go in there the evidence is still on the ceiling
also be mindful of the graduation plaques in the the student-dubbed “bl*wjob hall”. you do not want to know what the previous graduates did to them.
he will not bake weed brownies for you. stop asking.
in fact, you're not supposed to know he makes edibles
and no they are not for sale at his bakery. dont even try to enter.
gets the shit scared out of him every morning because lilia’s preferred greetings are unexpected and gravity-defying
all of treys classmates knows he’s in the classroom by the loud “GOODNESS, ME” every time lilia says good morning to him
rip to the science club. you got trey trying to magically grow plants and rook claiming he’s making a potion that has smoke machine effects
because a bunch of magical students with access to funky chemicals cannot result in anything good, the chances of the plant becoming carnivorous and that smoke machine causing hallucinogenic side effects is quite high
their club initiation can’t be anything other than making things grow and explode
“experiments” usually mean they’ve accidentally made chloroform. or any kind of corrosive substance. trey needs to dispose of it before it gets into some freshman’s backpack
Cater
he doodles on his notes, yes, but they are ✨on theme✨
his notes on the snow queens curse contain doodles of skulls and stick figures buried in the snow...
"adopts" freshman. says shit like "this is my freshie"
knows the latest gossip of the school but doesn’t really know a lot of people
lots of people know him though!! or of him
has nicknames for every professor and they are so horrid. no one deserves to hear the name “vargy daddy” (ironically, we hope) exit someones mouth. not even the rsa students.
sometimes uses the lesson board as his daily streaks, sometimes the profs catch him making winky faces for his photos
and because he refuses to sit anywhere but beside idia (or his tablet), he ends up in these selfies simply by association
cater got a failed test back and claimed prof trein was homophobic
this is even funnier for anyone that hcs cater being treins nephew
his posts keep going viral because he’s always there to film the rumoured nrc antics. he can kickstart an nrc-insider news career out of this
you get a notification that he’s live on magicam but no it’s lilia using caters platform to “sing everyone a lullaby”
on the bright side, it worked, they’re all knocked out. on the down side, it’s not as relaxing as lilia thinks it is
sometimes posts their band antics and hey that would’ve pulled a lot of people in but they are very put off by lilias singing
on the plus side though they are very good at synchronized dancing
clogs the hallways on occasion while filming on twisttok. move or you will be seen by his thousands of followers
might be my bias talking but idc, cater was at least a third of the student body’s gay awakening. hes got a personality that makes it hard not to like him, like what is there not to love?
say hi to him once and he will say hi to you until graduation. he will also introduce you to whoever he’s talking to at that moment
at the end of the semester you know at least half the people in this school
Ace
i dont care that this is a magic school, all freshman are sentient zoo animals that have escaped their enclosures
participated in the devious licks trend and got away with some of the wilder shit like stall doors and the graduates plaque from years ago?? (it was his brothers class)
he was the shit back in middle school and hes going to be an obnoxious freshman and claim you need his permission to sit at “his table”
canonically hes always involved in SOMETHING so all of the hot gossip around nrc is usually about ace
his constant beheadings has become an nrc inside joke and is used as a reaction image now
prime examples being "neiges lawyers after they see my y/n edits" or “me after vil’s team finds my account” from user vilsballsack
shortest player on the basketball team and grim will not let him live it down
ace frequents ramshackle the most and his mischievous nature combined with the ghosts’ means lots of rude awakenings
not even the standard bucket on the door pranks, ace goes above and beyond with them. they range from whoopee cushions to the most elaborate traps, with dominos and strings triggering everything
just wait until you hear about april fools day, bro. karmas a bitch :/
at least he buys you a weekly coffee </3 he complains but will be pissed if deuce buys you one instead
fighting for his life trying not to laugh during sex ed
he plays with those cpr dummies like how you imagine children play with dolls
smashes them against each other, establishes the darkest kind of hierarchy, and his favourite thing to do is twist the heads off the bodies
he gets it from the queen housewarden rosehearts🤩
he and deuce whisper so loudly that they disrupt the class so they’ve resorted to very obvious note passing
every crinkle of paper stomps on the profs nerves but it’s better than hearing whisper-debates over whether glitter gel pens are manly or not
bluetooth connects to the announcement speakers to play WAP. sigh. 
for any band kids out there, he is a trumpet player. i think that says enough
Deuce
vaped in the washrooms for a month thinking he was cool before he reformed himself
thought it was so funny to lie about his name at the coffee shop but keeps giggling and being weird about it. the baristas know “divus” is definitely not his name
plus, the campus shops are more likely than not run by students or staff. literally everyone knows who divus is and he’s never had blue hair and pronouns
is in the centre of every single fight that happens in this school. he has not missed a single match to scrap with the other freshies
even his seniors are shivering in fear
thought it was funny to draw dicks on every desk he sat in
influenced some dorm members to draw dicks on their faces claiming it was Heartslabyul-issued makeup
needless to say he didn’t get away with it for long
cannot leave his phone unattended with ace. the last time he did, ace switched up his charger settings so the phone was robotically moaning when deuce put it in the charging port
calls his momma every lunch time to make sure she ate
somehow got adopted by the cafeteria ghosts and he occasionally gets free cookies or coffees
rode a skateboard to school and hid it in his locker. got caught two months in because sebek was yelling at him for bringing a skateboard to school
finds a way to tear up at any kind of movie or documentary displayed in class. hes just so moved. 
but bro if he gets clowned on one more time by grim, he’s really gonna burst out the waterworks
once got so sick of grim he started barking at him. epel refuses to delete the video
asks you to wake him up if he dozes off during magic history. you get wracked with guilt every time you steal him away from dreamland
Leona
didn’t go to class for like 4 months and then shows up after everyone in the class declared him dead
directly sassing his teachers and unfortunately he is very funny
only one he can’t get away with is crewel because crewel will hit him and turn him into a designer rug
doesn’t bring notes, doesn’t even bring a pencil. he’s repeated these lessons twice, he already knows everything
because he already learnt it before he can get away with sleeping and answering their questions just fine
his profs are mad. its not misconduct if the student is in fact, aware of the material
they did him so dirty putting rook in the same class as him. this is actually great for the profs when he decides to come to class because he refuses to sleep in rooks presence
threatens to claw out rooks face if he dares to sit next to him so rook sat behind him :)
learns broken french against his will. learns whos nicknames correspond with who against his will.
if ever partnered up with rook, leona finds out that rook wasnt taking notes at all. all that typing was done on magic of our own and the pen scribbling was a doodle of leona
lord knows what stopped him from turning rook into dust
(it’s because epel will be sad if rook is gone)
doesnt believe in calculators he's a mental math god but only when he wants to be
beware if anything remotely sexist that catches his ears. he will call you out. in front of everyone. who said women sucked at games? they’re lucky his sister in law isn’t playing. her favourite game happens to be predator vs prey :))
violates academic honesty but sucks at it. he copies and pastes, puts it in a paraphrasing bot, then translates it in 10 languages, and puts it on the page. no formatting or anything. 
if the profs uses those plagiarism checkers, leona is getting caught 100%
do not ask him if he can talk to lucius, you will become a missing persons case
Ruggie
knows everyone on school grounds
you might think it’s cater, or azul, but no, it’s ruggie and i can’t explain it
has most likely club-hopped until he settled for magift. he knows quite a few buddies here and there, so if ur ever looking for someone, ruggies the one to ask. if not directly, he can give you leads on your search
shows up to record the fights that deuce gets into but will not join them. hes here for the drama, not to get into them
violates academic integrity. he gets so fucking creative with it. hes the one making homemade water bottle labels or creating a whole new code (disguised as battle scars on his arm) so it looks like hes not cheating
listen he will find a way to cheat if he doesnt know. its all in or nothing
work smarter not harder <3
he’s basically on the clock 24/7 with leona and his other odd jobs. sometimes he doesn’t have enough time to study, but he sure has time to create a new language as a fail-safe. it’s called being resourceful >:(
kid who uses calculator to check simple things like 2 + 3 but can find the circumference of a box using only a formula and the fortitude of his mind????
bro is literally so resourceful, can take the most simplest things and turn them into masterpieces. he is exactly like those people that can create edits, theories, and fics out of a character that was seen for 5 minutes
magishift disk got lost? he’s already found a frisbee. or you can use this notebook. it’s rectangle but if it works, it works, right?
1 inch of snow? no problem he’ll make a sturdy fort for you to hide under during snowball fights
profs thought he dyed his hair blonde in rebellion but no hes just born like that. his hair just got darker as he grew leave him alone pls :( it’s all natural :((
pen flicker and he knows it. absolutely defying the laws of physics with the aerodynamics of his pen. it ends up being more entertaining than the actual lesson
sneaks snacks into classrooms but he’s quiet enough about it that no one really cares
so dont try to snitch on him for a corn chip you aint gettin one
no he does not sell drugs on the down low who told you that?
don’t remove his sunglasses he needs them. is he what? oh, hi.
Jack
had a kiddy crush on the queens for a year
they’re so hardworking, and knowledgeable, and talented, like he really looks up to them
turns out he didn’t want to date them he just wanted to be them fr
would be a very good influence on his friend group if they weren’t even worse when combined together
at least he’s a good influence on epel. or at least that’s what vil tells him
not really causing trouble but since he hangs out with the first years, he's in trouble by association
this is the fifth time grim has gotten stuck in the vents playing real life among us and jack is running out of excuses
gives epel a look of disapproval every time he catches his name in kahoot
accidentally learned many countryisms and swear words he didn’t even know existed
any time epel fails a test or had a fight with vil, jack adds to his forbidden vocabulary
invites epel to his 6AM runs with vil and he occasionally joins, but ultimately epel enjoys sleeping in, says that he must sleep enough hours to trigger his growth spurt
got to demonstrate his knowledge in first aid when deuce took a nasty fall during club activities. was the most excited to plaster the patterned bandaid on him but don’t say anything about it >:( bros got an image to protect
gained a new appreciation for musicals from ortho’s influence. he likes six the musical the most obviously
minds his business the most. he doesn’t give a shit if you fell on your ass during flight. he’ll help you up, check that you’re alright, and go on about his day, no further comments
so for anyone who is easily embarrassed, jack’s your bestie now
Azul
most pretentious bitch in the class for two reasons
1. always has some extra curricular activity going on and will not stfu about it
2. always has something to add to the lesson or story and will not stfu about it
for anyone thats read jamils lab story, it’s exactly like that. azul will comment on everything, bring out his observations, will constantly pester u & try to pick apart ur brain
not in a scientific way, he just wants to crack into the cool knowledge inside. bros a nerd (affectionate)
by the end of the first week you will want to push his head in the cauldron & not let up until he slowly goes limp
please don’t give him any debate assignment. he’s about to tear out heartslabyul student B over the worth of cryptocurrency
(it’s nothing. it’s worth literally nothing.)
has a stack of business cards for mostro and will hand them out to anyone who shows the slightest interest in azul himself
rip to any one of his classmates that may have harboured a crush on him because azul is nothing if not his own biggest cockblocker
for some reason, he can bend the power of time to his will considering he had the time to control the odds of rolling dice while still attending to all of his after-school activities
every board game meeting is idia being horrified at azul’s extra-ness or azul getting clowned to hell by idia himself
they are so mean to each other but will hiss if you try to pry them apart
bro works two jobs, a student and a restaurant manager. how the hell is he doing all this and still #2 in his grade who knows. the grind never stops and his pronouns happen to be work/hard
don’t be fooled though, behind closed doors he is getting his glasses taken away from him by the twins so he can fucking REST. can’t do ur work without your sight!!
ofc they don’t tell him that though they just embarrass azul by either staring at him “innocently” until azul decides to leave (jade) or threaten to whack him with a frying pan until he falls asleep (floyd)
Jade
in the first year he smashed floyds head into poor idias locker and the huge dent is still there to show for it
the profs permit him to snack in class bc he brings “healthy” choices like carrots and apples. 
eats them so menacingly too. stare at him too long and he stares right back, then takes a giant, violent crunch on his snack.
smiles innocently at them even though he’s well aware of the fear in his fellow students eyes
can not incriminate him. hides all traces of his involvement for issues he enabled. 
unless it’s his weekly brawl with his brother on school grounds. “we’re twins, we fight all the time” is not a valid excuse to chase each other down the halls with metal forks
cracks a joint when floyd punches someone so they can convince the student that floyd broke his nose. serves them right for talking shit
doesn’t join in on the fight. you might think this is a good thing but having jade stand by and encourage your pain as you’re getting your shit rocked hurts even worse than the punches
crewel cannot pair jade with any student besides riddle. he’s an enabler. people listen to him either because they’re scared of him or they don’t know better. what was supposed to be a “good idea” to mix vials E and F turns into accidentally (?) creating mustard gas
when you chat with him you find out hes one of those insane sims players that tortures their sims for fun
he genuinely thinks that how youre supposed to play the game
no he’s not shroom hunting on his mountain hikes. he’s genuinely just living his cottagecore dreams. he cherishes the little mushroom mug he got from riddle. it even has a cute lid :)
he never confirms nor denies these accusations, however
if anything, he will turn it on the other party. what do you mean you think he’s collecting magic mushrooms??? he’s never even seen one :((
was the reason the school had to implement a ban on permanent markers. he kept sniffing them and got sent to the nurses office for it. now whenever some students want to skip class or out of pure curiosity, they sniff until they get sick
Floyd
that fucking maniac when his pen runs out of ink during a test he bites himself and uses the blood as ink and doesnt bat an eye at it
plays the game of switching classes with jade but it doesnt last very long because "jade" is suspiciously doing too well in flight class
treats dodgeball like a carnival game. whips that shit so hard at you, you’re convinced you’re leaking spinal fluid
if he’s feeling real freaky he’ll freeze the snowballs a little before throwing them :D
loudly opening and eating chips in class
when trein scolds him hes handing out gummy bears to his classmates in front of his face
sits in the front row just to nap there. hes got so much audacity and zero fear
lectures last 3 hours. perfect time to watch a movie. hes giving the classmates a free streaming party
sometimes hes just laughing to himself while taking notes. or maybe he’s texting who knows? 
unsafe during potionology have you seen his lab card
comments on the drinkability of every chemical
god forbid you ever do a dissection bc hes gonna be saying the most ravenous shit
"that eyeball kinda be looking juicy" my ass
can he maybe like eat before class for everyones sanity
takes any dare from jade as a challenge, and if he succeeds, then he gets to make jade do smth for him
most of the time he declares himself as the eldest sibling™ and jade just has to accept it
if it was unclear, a lot of their fights consist of who is the godly privileged eldest sibling and who isnt
the rest of the time he makes jade show up to class in some clown shoes and laughs at the squeaky sounds coming from jade’s footsteps
pencil chewer. and eraser stabber. just keep the magic pen away from his mouth
Kalim
drew flowers and hearts and sparkles around his war history notes
its his standard for all his notes
brings in whole ass meals in his class and shares it with his seatmates. it smells amazing
shows up to class with random shit every day. if he’s making his own day, why not make everyone elses day too, u know?
he has this huge stuffed rabbit that he lugged around class one day. it’s named peter. it has its own seat.
once brought a bunch of balloons and blew them up in the middle of the lecture?? he had time to draw faces on them? one is him, one is jamil, etc, etc
silver gets one of those balloons that kalim drew on. look! it’s purple, like your eyes!
brought bubbles to school and had a rave in the courtyard
initiates snowman building parties but most of the time they don’t work out because these rambunctious nrc students will destroy the snowmen after class
(jamil will secretly repair these snowmen so kalim doesn’t find out octavinelle student A kicked a hole through frosty jr’s chest)
shares his scratch and sniff stickers with his classmates. there’s some whacky scents in there and honestly most of them smell foul
kalim knows this and ofc warns people beforehand. although, which ones smell good and which dont? sniff and find out ig
at least his presentations are the most entertaining. they’re extra as hell like he would sooner coordinate an entire skit than present normally
chances are he ends up improving some stuff because he forgets his lines rip. fortunately it is fun to make up a skit with kalim so, 9/10 for his groupmates, minus 1 point bc he sent them all in cardiogenic shock from his grand ideas. how in the world are they going to get, or even train an elephant for science????
if doing some kinda powerpoint, takes advantage of those fun transition effects and funny pictures. they may not be 100% relevant to the topic but he wanted you to see this baby koala anyway
Jamil
24/7 talking to himself in his head so he can have an intellectual conversation for once
when being particularly annoyed, he imagines the students or even the school burning. it oddly soothes his mind
avoids the window seat if the window is open. one too many bug accidents. there’s only so many tables jamil can char before he gets in trouble.
watch him pull out a hazmat suit when it’s time for flight class in june. fucking wasps.
pen flicker. he isnt aware he does this but its pretty cool to watch
see, jamil shares a class with azul. and with azuls annoying ass attitude and even more annoying twins tailing him, he’s resorted to keeping a pair of headphones on him at all times
do people not understand? if he’s sitting alone and has headphones in, it means he doesn’t want to talk!! cough cough take a hint
his only joy derives from watching the smug ass grin on azuls face disappear when he’s on a broom
long since stopped trying to reason with his fellow basketball club. ace can deal with floyd, he’s here to do his part and leave
unless they’re playing a match with another school. then get ur ass up, jamil is Competitive and wants the win for himself 
while his phone is on silent, the screen is always lighting up bc kalim loves to blow up his phone with messages
he can’t mute kalim in case the dude gets himself in a problem, so he’s dealing with links and images of dolphins while his class is learning about the components of pixie dust
rarely responds to these but will send occasional “cool”s or “kalim please focus in class” texts
the secret thing is, he is very fascinated by these links. educates himself with dolphin trivia, or whatever topic kalim has been interested in lately, for their future conversations
but he'd rather get buried alive than say that to his face
Vil
creative as hell he will find script ideas out of every class hes in (just like me fr <3)
smells so good. unbelievably good. its probably his own fragrance. it’s not on sale yet.
half the school has a crush on him but no one is brave enough to approach him like cater is
celebrity status AND dorm leader? thats like VIP status on top of VIP status. understandably, few try to approach him with further intentions than a fan/classmate
not cater though! he says he wants to take a pic with vil for the clout but thats definitely a farce. vil knows it, and cater knows vil knows it.
he got them teacher heels. you know those? you hear him long before you see him and you fix up your behaviour too. the power of those teacher heels.
non-pomefiore students either hate them or are so damn jealous of them. you’re getting coached by the vil schoenheit?? you get to see his face and hear his voice every day????
vil’s seen too many people sneak in and try to pass off as his dorm members. he’s amused but like, you can visit you know? just make sure to inform your dorm leader and go back before curfew. 
highly advises these students to leave everything as they found it. no dorm would tolerate students who cannot pick up after themselves
if somehow, these brave ass students ignore this advice, vil’s making them wash all 200 of pomefiores windows. inside and outside :) yes, this also includes the mosiacs
if you get this man for a presentation project, you’re either extremely lucky or very unlucky
on the bright side, he can lead a lot of the spoken parts but dont expect him to do it all. he expects you to know your parts and speak clearly
on the bright side again, he’s very thorough with research and citing. your profs love him
on the down side you cannot last minute rush this, if you were thinking of it. while he allows some leeway because emergencies and life happens, he will hunt you down so it will be finished at least a day prior. that is a threat.
Rook
knows your entire natal chart
serves u personal asstrology horoscopes. says shit like “your dad is back in your life because mars is in retrograde” and he’s right. why is mars doing the renagade and why is it so powerful???
draws the most detailed, obscure abstract art or the most realistic rendition of a real life object no in-between
was so excited to see leona in his class he has so much to tell him about his day, and what vils doing, and what new discovery science club made that week, and the pretty birds he saw this morning-
confidently writing his neige/vil fanfic in class. or self insert. really doesn’t matter because its actually written so beautifully he could convert you to any kind of ship or belief
in fact he most likely submitted fanfic for an assignment and gaslit the profs into thinking he went above and beyond what was required of him
this is an artistic vision, a romantic metaphor for the tale of the sleeping kingdom. the curse is actually symbolized through her crown!!
in the autumn he picks up a random leaf from the ground and it’s his muse for the day. you look over and theres some kid with a leaf on his desk? don’t mind him
reported on the first week for crawling around on all fours to get the optimal photo angle 
he still crawls around for the photo he’s just sneakier now
a kid who got exposed to creepypasta and has never been the same since
he has the old deviantart account to prove it
unintentionally kickstarts so many rumours because no one knows anything about his life before nrc
there’s ongoing theories that rook is secretly a vampire, or a descendant of royalty, or an undercover spy
the rumours were the worst during his freshman year because his behaviour was jarring to most students. rook had celebrity syndrome then, where people think he’s dating everyone he interacts with
though, self nicknamed “hunter of love”, confusion is bound to happen. does it mean homewrecking? harem collecting? matchmaking?? no one knows and no one is brave enough to find out
the joint cracker in class. leona hates him so much. one more crack and rook is gonna end up on the news
Epel
a little bit emo, bros been going through it all year give him some time
has and continues to paint his nails black but switched to colours in the second year
calls his phases in his life “eras” and whoever he was two months ago is not him anymore!! the past is NOT today!
found a way to shake the vending machine to get the snacks to fall down
the loud ass freshie during lunch. believed he was too cool for the cafeteria and ate in the halls
unfortunately he is once again, Too Loud and gets scolded by the teachers a lot
feral. absolutely feral. he has bit people and they have the bite marks to prove it
misgendering? insulting his friends? just overall being disrespectful? square up bitch.
the first years have a hard time wrangling in epel and deuce. pray for them.
still initiates snowball fights even after they got banned because the ignihyde students built machines to mass produce snowballs
jerked off the dildo they were supposed to practice putting a condom on. vargas is so so so disappointed
has an ungodly amount of deodorant in his bag and all of them are from vil
does he use them? hell no, they smell like old people. he has his own max spray. what do you mean it smells bad? this is what manly macho men smell like you wouldn’t get it
kicked a broken soap dispenser into the toilet. when asked, he’ll tell you that he doesn’t know what came over him
competitive in kahoot because he has an inappropriate username
nothing screams victory like standing on the 1st place podium as "ben dover"
being classmates with him is like, this dude next to you is making a portrait in minecraft pixel art??? what does this have to do with the god of mischief’s reign???
gotta admit it tho, he’s pretty damn talented.. wait what was the prof saying again😅?
Idia
theatre kid
but like, stage crew theatre kid
once hes got the drama kid complex in him, everyone whos not in the drama program are instantly peons to him
they just arent as fun, they dont understand the references, and they are overall total normies
attends class through his tablet most of the time so, in that era we had of online school, i think we all know idia was not actually paying attention
100% muted his classes to catch up on the episodes he missed
lectures? sure sure, he’ll record them and take notes later. now shh he’s hiding behind his laptop screen to play rhythm games. wheres the mute button irl???
starts attending class more frequently to bond over rhythm games with cater. if you hear two people in the back speaking some foreign language it’s probably them.
in fact im pretty sure that only these two will be able to understand each other with whatever strange terms and lingo they pull out of thin air
ortho is very very happy about this
one time in the bathroom, when he went to get soap to wash his hands, the fucking dispenser fell from the wall
went thru the 5 stages of grief and panic, and ended up fleeing and stressing if he would be caught and fined for this. officially the worst day of his life fr
if it was that rusty to fall from the wall, you can only assume that these people don’t wash their hands often
have you seen his lab card he’s about to drink chemicals
then again, he’s an energy drink person, so i suppose that unidentified lab chemicals arent the worst thing he’s put in his body
actually legally cannot talk to anyone because he gets overcome with a terrible affliction: he gets a crush on them :(
two days of saying hi to each other and idia is already imagining a fancy proposal
cant take that bitch anywhere
Ortho
barges into idias lectures to deliver him lunch because HE ALWAYS FORGETS IT.
sometimes he just sits and joins the class. can it be considered auditing?? hes certainly not taking notes hes just vibing
do you know who built him?? his big brother knows everything💕💕 so therefore ortho also knows lots of stuff :))
even takes the tests in that class and gets 90s on each one
all of idias classmates have such a hard time trying not to give the ortho pat pats
except cater he gets free reign because he’s always sitting by idia. they bond over music and ortho introduces synthetic tune ideas for their next club practice
unfortunately now ortho also has to remind cater to pls eat lunch. no, you cant live off on instant ramen and coffee-
freshman are escaped lab subjects and ortho is already pretty violent on his own, so ortho being a violent escaped lab subject is Not A Good Mix
don’t worry though he is very tame just don’t insult his friends
why only his friends? oh, you won’t be alive to insult his brother :)
jk, if you insult his brother you will be stuck on the “verifying file integrity” screen on 98% forever
with a gift of “lauren wants to play ;)” popup ads for life
if you really fucked up his beam is already 80% charged and ready for eradication
tinkers a lot with idia, so you will find some pretty snazzy gadgets in his bag that look straight out of a spy movie
laser pens, glitter bombs, and tracking devices!
the more dangerous gadgets are already programmed into his person, so don’t worry, these gadgets are just toys :D
the other first years get their hands on the pen and graffiti drawings of cr*wley as the princess sofia the first are engraved on the side of the school building
cr*wley does not recognize this as the insult it is, he’s “touched that his students think him worthy of princess status”
Malleus
no proof that he is even on school property
sometimes shows up to his classes, sometimes doesn’t, but it’s enough to guarantee a pass into the next grade
you know those kids that just stick by their mothers? yeah he’s either that with lilia or nowhere at all
once had almost tripped down the stairs and instead of facing that shame he decided to hover down
if you see some random dude hovering around don’t mind him he just Does That
has a notebook to jot down ideas for his next self-published book on gargoyles
he has so many ideas and is so passionate. hes just brimming to the lid with lore someone pls talk to him
casually talking to gao gao dragon and making doodles of his friend. takes him out on walks and shows him all the cool statues
was delighted when you got urself a tamagotchi so gaogao dragon can have a friend
grim is less than amused but knows better than to diss malleus
god forbid you ever be put in a group project with him you will not be able to reach him ever. you get his part in about 3 hours before your presentation. 
the rare times he gets to join the dorm leader meetings he spaces out a lot. his head is in the clouds bro 
when he’s back on his walks he loves to reiterate to lilia what he saw or what happened. sometimes questions about things he hears. whether lilia gives him a proper answer or not is up for debate
“I believe I saw a rainbow today. We don’t have those back at home, I wonder why that is.”
“There’s a story that the leprechaun fairy lurks at the end of these rainbows searching for a game of tag. Anyone who catches him gets one wish granted.”
“Hm, I’ll have to venture to the end of the rainbow next time to meet this ‘leprechaun fairy’. He would be a wonderful birthday present for Silver.”
Lilia
addresses the teachers by their first names and gets away with it
not because the teachers are okay with it, but because lilia speaks like hes sm older than them. sometimes even the profs feel obligated to call lilia “sir”
the diasomnia dorm members see lilia with a new variation of “#1 best dad” mugs, hats, and shirts every week. he says they’re gifts but who is giving them???
lilias got two pairs of the exact same shoes in two different colours so he can mix and match
lilia also bought two different shoes to mix and match. and by mix and match i mean hes got crocs on his left foot and converse on his right
not like anyone can rlly pay too much attention to it. his shoes are the least of ppls concerns bc hes ALWAYS UPSIDE DOWN
attends silver’s and malleus’ parent teacher interviews as their dad and refuses to take any objections from the staff
accidentally created life during the culinary crucible and jade wanted to keep the crawling little slug of mystery for his terrariums 
since that day, lilia has Officially been banned from taking the class again
everyone but lilia is aware of this ban
casually doing assignments while under the influence with full confidence
worst part is is that he gets better grades while doing this bc his sober self is even more nonsensical than his drunk or high self
history class is so funny. it’s like they took the history and made it into a childrens play: censored, skirting around words, along with fake propaganda!
casually drops the craziest lore in history. hes "correcting" trein on his lessons and informing him that the queen of Andalasia was not even from their world. her magic portal connects to a world with dimensions and laws more outlandish than that of the Queen of Hearts
lilia does not clarify which world this is nor how he knows. source: just trust him
knows alumni from way back. these alumni in question have no clue who the hell lilia is
NRC reunions consist of lilia greeting people like they’re friends and the alumni pick apart their brains trying to “remember” this alleged classmate of theirs
Silver
has perfected the technique of silent snoring
it doesn’t matter that there are 4 espresso shots in his cup he’s still zonked out by 3rd period
ofc he tried a method of putting in headphones and playing some metal music but the music was so loud thru his pearpods it was disrupting the class </3
deliberately sits next to kalim to see if his energy can rub off on himself and it worked for the first...30 minutes
yeah, kalim has a lot of energy but you know what he also has? a nice voice. snork mimimimi
he puts in extra effort to stay awake before animal linguistics however
doesn’t really need animal linguistics to understand his critter friends, but the more he learns how to communicate with them, the better, right?
when silver forgets his notes, a few moments later, a bird is delivering the sheets to him
they may not always be the right ones, but awww that’s adorable
always keeps nuts, seeds, and fruit in a little tupperware container for his furry friends <3
very passionate about environmental safety and care. if he catches you littering he will remind you why he’s mastered the art of the sword
attracts so many animals he even attracted this cat beastman. he’s purple! they just started talking and really hit it off
silver doesn’t know his name but leaves notes by his window for him. they keep exchanging notes like penpals :D
sometimes the notes even float towards him and boom, the kitty appears!
only person who knows about his penpal is lilia and lilia is acting so cryptic about the cat’s identity???
silver wonders if he can fit in a locker and he definitely let the intrusive thoughts win bc he climbed inside and closed the gate. 
sebek locks the lock for silver to get the “full experience” but it’s been 20 minutes and he doesn’t know how to blast open the locker without hurting silver
honestly tho, it kind of feels like those coffins from orientation. don’t mind him. if he can tune out sebeks voice, the dim lighting and enclosed space feels very comforting in a crib kind of way
Sebek
this goes one or two ways: he shouts the answers instead of putting his hand up or he raises his hand before speaking long after graduating
librarians hate him but he does have marvelous taste in books
he would be fantastic at writing essays because he has so much to say and is very opinionated 
english teachers love him, his classmates dont!
sometimes lilia tells sebek stories about the past and his only source was “ive been there” but the “a” in “a. liddel” did not stand for ass. his profs scolded him for saying it. lilia explain pls
hes way too gullible. keep him away from jade
never start anything with "did you know", you will find sebek drinking powerade and monster to test the rumour that you could grow wings if you combined them
took a dare to be handcuffed to jack for the day. the first years blew it up on magicam, its a trending nrc challenge now. 
but at least jacks good influence is rubbing off on sebek. hes more mindful of jacks sensitive hearing but that won’t stop him from dragging poor jack around the school looking for malleus
his phone is always going off in class. its not that he doesnt know how to silence it, he needs to keep it on in case of emergencies with malleus😡😡😡
the friend that tells you all your crushes are ugly and out of your league. 
he’s had a lifetime of having to see silver’s terrible taste in people
and malleus’ no taste in people, as he should
actually, it’s just his adopted brother that has shit taste in people. up your standards, silver, love at first sight doesn’t exist
personally victimizes scarabia student B for distracting you from your studies
if it’s not jack, sebek is the mom friend
speaking of moms, he bonds with deuce over loving their moms <3. they brag about their moms in the most loving way possible
yells at ace for calling them mamas boys and tells him that he will be struck by lightning on 3:02AM on a thursday
at exactly 3:02AM, he texts ace with something that truly looks like the worst kind of detailed, enhanced vocabulary copypasta imaginable
all ace responded with was a no bitches meme and no sebek hasn’t recovered
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sapphyreopal5 · 3 months
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Hmm so my best friend told me about this movie Sound of Freedom and how Disney apparently refused to release the movie back in 2019, officially citing it as "not interesting" and "saw no potential in it". Interestingly so, the movie ended up being released July 4, 2023 (fitting date given the title of the movie).
Boy does the release of this movie have quite the story to it. The rights for the movie were transferred to Disney after Fox merged with Disney back on March 20, 2019. The distribution rights for the movie were initially only for Fox Latin America. Quoted from this article, the director said The article also states: "
"So now in this way, I show the movie to them finished and they told me this movie is not for us,” he said, asserting that he asked for the movie back." They negotiated for a year, and he said he took the movie out of Disney and began “knocking on doors with Netflix, Amazon, and other studios,” all of whom rejected it. “Some of them, they just didn’t even answer my phone calls,” he said, adding, “We sent hundreds and hundreds of messages from different people. Nothing.” He said he prayed and asked God to “send some angels to rescue this video.”
Ultimately, Disney allowed the director to buy the rights of the movie from them. Netflix and other streaming services including Amazon Prime only rejected the initial release of the movie, not so much actually banning the movie. However, Netflix has yet to actually have the movie available to stream. Amazon does have the movie available. Angel Studios (also a fitting name given the movie does have Christian roots and Biblical references in it) purchased the distribution rights for Sound of Freedom... late March 2023 (just about exactly 4 years after Fox merged with Disney and then Disney ultimately said no to distributing this movie. Director Alejandro Monteverde said about the late release of the movie:
“So, I want to believe there was not a bad intent. I just think that the circumstances didn't help our film. But looking back retrospectively, I think also right now people are more familiar with the theme. If we would have come out earlier another year, I don't know if we'd get the box office success that we have had. I think the timing just happened to come together perfectly, and the universe kind of aligned to launch this kind of film."
Very intriguing that the "answer" to his prayers was Angel Studios picking up this movie. Seems like a very "Christian" laced way to answer this man's prayers... or it is divine blueprints kicking in as a bit of some Irony.
Karma for Disney?
2023 was the year that Disney celebrated its 100 years in business. Ironically however, it is also said to be one of Disney's worst years in the film industry. One of the Disney movies that was reportedly a flop for the company was in fact Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny. Strangely enough, 2019 was said by that article to be Disney's golden year with 7 out of 10 of that year's top films being Disney backed. 2023 is the one year that none of Disney's filmed broke the billion dollar barrier.
Sound of Freedom strangely enough outperformed Indiana Jones 5 on opening day July 4, 2023. The director again was quoted saying:
“I’m not giving up because this movie is about saving lives. But it’s been eight years now since we started this project. It’s a long time. And then Angel Studios show up,” he said, explaining how they chose July 4 as the release date “because if the U.S. is the number one consumer of child sex, we need to shake the conscience of this country on July 4.” “Let’s do something to bring freedom back to those children that are not free,” he said, explaining that they were facing a challenge due to the fact that they were facing films like Disney-backed Indiana Jones. “Humanly speaking” it was impossible to survive, he said, but he added, “God’s children are not for sale. If God is with us, who can be against us?” “I never imagined in a million years that we beat Indiana Jones on July 4. We’re the number one movie in America,” he added.
Even though Indiana Jones 5 grossed more money at the box office ($375 million), it cost over $300 million to make and $100 million to advertise/promote. Sound of Freedom on the other hand grossed $250 million at the box office, cost $14.5 million to make and about $5 million to advertise/promote. In short, Indiana Jones was a financial flop while Sound of Freedom was a financial success (and no, unredeemed tickets did NOT count towards the box office sales of this movie's success).
Certainly seems like Disney shelving the movie and saying "it's not for us" bit them in the behind. Funnily enough, according this article citing 21 of Disney's biggest flops, 11 of those were all released in 2020 and beyond. Sure we can cite COVID-19 shutdowns for 2020 and 2021 to an extent (4 of the movies on this list) but does it REALLY explain the failure of all of these movies, or is it a mix of many factors with karma being the ultimate force behind it all?
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frances-baby-houseman · 10 months
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Barbra Streisand is an insane person. Here are just a few more of my favorite bits, also not in order bc I'm starting where I am and then i'll go back. There is so so so much more where this came from, do not worry that I'm spoiling anything (I am the kind of person who hates when people do this!) Anyway--
He was on the next plane to New York. When he arrived, he said, "I'm going to take you shopping." And he bought me a Fendi fur coat . . . not a fancy Fendi fur. In fact, it was rather funny looking, made of pieces of fur sewn together with actual holes in between . . . kind of like a thrift shop coat. But I loved it because it was the same henna color as my hair.
(ed: that coat was designed by Karl Lagerfeld and that line of Fendi furs was hugely influential. the more you know, babs!)
~~~
Gregory Peck was a lovely man who believed in me early on. Before I knew him, his house was for sale, and I actually went over to look at it. I opened the door to his audio closet, which was filled with LPs, and was touched to see he had all my albums. (But whoever wrote the label on the shelf misspelled my first name, so I pulled out a pen and crossed out the extra a.)
(ed: remember she has not yet met Gregory Peck before editing his LP collection.)
~~~
Now, looking back, I can hardly believe my response. How stupid! Today I would be more adventurous, but I was too insecure sexually back then, still a nice Jewish girl from Brooklyn with my mother's admonitions echoing in my head. Free love was not my style. Besides, how do you brush your teeth in the desert? Do I sleep with my makeup on?
(ed: "free love is not my style" coming from a woman who later admits she forgot she slept with Warren Beatty.)
~~~
Neither of us trusted many people, and it's interesting how a lot of the people we trusted were the same . . . Quincy Jones, Mike Medavoy, Carol Matthau. Once for a dinner at Quincy's house, Marlon showed up wearing a burgundy sweatsuit with stripes down the side. By this point he was probably 280 pounds. He told me he was eating a quart of ice cream every night. I could relate... I love ice cream too. There's nothing like a big, fresh scoop of McConnell's Brazilian Coffee, packed into a crisp cone and handed to you at their store in Santa Barbara. The intensity of the flavor, made with real coffee beans . . . the smooth rich texture . . . By the way, you can't get McConnell's ice cream at just any supermarket, and this particular flavor is even harder to find. So you can imagine all the reasons I suddenly invent to go to Santa Barbara.
(she goes on about her love of ice cream for another 3 paragraphs before getting back to Marlon Brando's depression.) (this is so far my favorite passage in the book.)
~~~
ugh one day soon I will be done with this book and it will be the worst day of my life since I finished the mike nichols book.
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paalove · 11 months
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i would love a coda to new year's where the sandray makeout in the car gets interrupted by boston slinking back to his car without nick, & ray, this time with sand's blessing, leaves to take care of his friend & takes him out for some late-night commiseration ice cream. na na na 🥺
sad and lonely little boston with his rejected present :(
on ao3 here
...
The rooftop is theirs, kissing in Ray’s car and the starlight, and he’s leaning into Sand and feeling both their smiles and thinking maybe the world is theirs too, when they hear a door open somewhere behind them and pull apart.
Ray turns and sees Boston putting something into the back of his car.
Nick isn’t with him.
He looks drooped and lost – like he had earlier, when Mew had dug at him, and like he hadn’t when Nick had arrived.
He turns in his seat to watch as Boston closes that back door, a little way across the roof.
“Leaving me all alone in your car again? Always running off for a friend in distress,” Sand says, pulling Ray’s attention back to him and his fond smile.
Ray blinks and remembers a time after a different party, kissing in this car, and he says, “I’m not doing-“
“-Go. I’ll take the car back.”
He’s still caught in the space between the two parties, only a few months and everything in the world has changed, as he feels a swift and not-unexpected surge of trembling love towards Sand, who hasn’t changed at all except in how he’s smiling, this time.
Sand strokes his jaw with a barely-there, gentle caress, leans in once to brush his lips over Ray’s just as lightly, and adds, “Quickly – before he drives away.”
Taking out the airpod, he looks at it, then puts it into Sand’s ear and smiles at the way he shakes his head.
Ray runs up to the car.
It’s just starting as he opens the door and slides into the passenger side and says, “Uncle Boom’s ice cream?”
“What?”
That’s the worst sign yet – not even a what the fuck, Boston is just blinking at him in unaggressive confusion instead of trying to push him out of the still-open car door.
“He does that New Year sale where the bowls are like buckets and he won’t stop you if you try to mix stupid flavours,” Ray says, “Come on, I’ll pay.”
A smile has caught about half of Boston’s mouth when he says, “Where the fuck’s your boyfriend, man, take him out.”
Ray puts on his seatbelt.
Conveniently, Sand takes that opportunity to start Ray’s car, pull backwards out of the space, and slowly drive behind Boston’s. He gives a little finger-wave through the window, and Ray leans out of the door to wave back.
When he gets back inside, he closes it and says, “He just left.”
“Yeah?” Boston says, kind of sarcastic but the smile has grown a little more.
Shrugging, Ray says, “Yeah. Ice cream?”
Boston gives in.
It’s their personal hangout spot, separate from the other two, so it’s not like they’re going to run into Mew and Top there now they’ve left – not April and Cheum either, because they for sure have food back there and they won’t want to run around. That’s probably why Boston actually drives the right way.
He tells Ray, after a couple of minutes of the radio’s quiet soundtrack, “Nick wouldn’t take it.”
“What wouldn’t he take?” Ray looks at Boston’s face, his clenched jaw and eyes on the road and doesn’t add, you were supposed to wait until ice cream, man.
Boston shrugs in the painful, stiff way that never seems as unbothered as he means, because he’s kind of like Ray where he can never hide the feelings he most wants to, and he says, “It’s in the back seat.”
Probably unsafe and definitely annoying to the driver, Ray immediately turns around and wriggles and stretches until he can pick up the large rectangular black object that Boston must have been stowing away when Ray spotted him. It, he discovers, is a photograph.
In the Bedroom with Boston, he thinks, followed by, oh, Ton.
He’s heard more about Nick and Boston’s whole thing from Nick than he ever did from Boston, and that’s earthshaking in its own way – there had been a time when he and Boston told each other about every hookup, in the exact ice cream place they’re headed to now, but of course Ray hadn’t told him about Sand and Boston hadn’t told him about Nick, and then neither of them had been telling the other anything at all. Certainly they hadn’t told each other sorry.
But now Boston has, and Ray thinks about the things Nick told him and how romantic Boston had seemed to him and he looks at the photo and sees him, for the first time – Boston the romantic.
Boston the boyfriend.
Probably not the second one anymore.
“It’s really nice,” he tells him, after being quiet for too long.
Boston takes nearly as long to say, “But Nick didn’t want it.”
Yeah.
Ray holds it in his lap for the rest of the drive.
The ice cream place is not normally a late-night one, actually, but New Year sales are New Year sales and Uncle Boom is a businessman – there’s still a queue, even though it’s…
Oh, wow, had Ray been running around with Sand for that long?
He can never tell how long it’s been, when Sand is there, all time-measurement abilities suspended so he can focus on more important things, but he’s still a little surprised.
Anyway, the people in front of them seem to be two different groups, so Ray says, “You should find a table, I’ll order.”
“Fuck off,” Boston says almost before he’s done speaking, “I know what fucking flavours you’ll try to get, I’m staying here so I can tell Uncle Boom to ignore you.”
“I’m paying, Ton-“
“-Mango and mint chocolate is a fucking disgusting-“
“-I’m adding bubblegum actually-“
And Ray generously lets Boston win this time, because he’s taking Boston out for a reason, but he still makes sure, as they sit down at one of the plastic tables added specifically for the Near Year sale, to say, “If you mix them the flavours are kind of like the bubblegum vodka martini Plug makes.”
“Liar,” Boston laughs, over their enormous, two-spooned bowl.
He takes a spoonful of Boston’s inferior selection.
Whenever they needed to gossip about hookups, any time back before the two birthday parties that changed everything, he and Boston would come here. The ice cream is good and nobody would be wrinkling their noses or nagging about being careful when either of them brought up, like, choking, or even just not remembering someone’s name.
After about half a minute, Boston says through a mouthful, “Did you mean it?”
Oh, they’re starting, he thinks.
“Mean what?” because it could be about him thinking the picture is nice or something he said at the party or even the fact he got in Boston’s car at all.
Not on that list is Boston’s, “You said you wanted to quit drinking.”
Oh, that.
It had gone better than he’d hoped for, bringing it up with them – Cheum not being there, he thinks guiltily, probably helped, because Mew hadn’t questioned him or openly doubted him or anything like that – but he’d known telling them all had to come eventually, and of course there are questions. Mew is probably going to be hurt if he ever realises Ray’s already started trying.
The other two, he’s practiced explaining to them with his therapist, who wants him to lay it out clearly and try not to feel like he’s presenting a legal defence; with Boston, it’s simpler.
“Yeah,” he shrugs, taking another spoonful, “I figured them- them all, even my dad, actually – them being annoying and mean about it doesn’t mean they’re always wrong, you know?”
“It’s not because your boyfriend went on a sex strike until you agreed? I could tell he wasn’t surprised when you said it.”
Ray snorts, “Sand couldn’t keep one up.”
“Yeah?”
And they’re laughing easily, Boston making a leering face and keeping it up as he faux-seductively licks his spoon and Ray flips him off.
But then Boston goes quiet, brow furrowed as he looks at the table.
It’s hard to hear his next words over the sounds of loud, drunk conversation at the other tables.
“It doesn’t mean they’re always wrong. About me too?”
Oh, right.
The others and the things they can sometimes be mean and annoying about. Boston’s always been one of those.
And Ray could give a knee-jerk, casual answer, and it could be yes, you fucked his boyfriend, Ton, of course they aren’t wrong about you, but it could also be, nah, we’re cool, but instead he tries to think about it, because this is for Boston.
So he tilts his head and looks through the window at the night-time city and says, “They aren’t always wrong about you, no.”
“Always?” Boston asks, following Ray.
This is the time for him to say it, “I’m sorry I backed Cheum up. It never sounded like something you’d do and I think Mew always knew that.”
He wasn’t expecting himself to say the part about Mew.
Where did that come from?
Boston’s face says he wasn’t expecting it either, mouth parted and eyes fixed on him.
“And it sucks about you and Nick,” he adds.
“Fuck you,” Boston says, “I’m not talking about that, let’s talk about how our friends hate me.”
He’s laughing but Ray can see he means it – nothing about Nick.
Ray moves his chair around the corner of the table, shuffles it up so he’s right next to Boston and presses their legs together, elbowing him a little so he elbows back, and says, “I mean, I don’t think Cheum hates you.”
With a sharp laugh, Boston elbows him again and says nothing.
“No, for real, Mew was being all bitchy to you earlier but Cheum wasn’t joining in at all,” he says.
It feels rude to say it about Mew, but Ray doesn’t think he’s wrong even if he also doesn’t think Mew was wrong to be bitchy, it’s like, complicated.
This is probably what Mew feels like when he’s trying to navigate everyone’s beef with Top.
Ugh.
Boston sighs, long and world-weary like he’s not sitting in front of a chocolate, coffee, and lime ice cream bucket, and he tilts his head back and stares at the ceiling and says, “She only feels bad for saying I turned Atom gay.”
“She wouldn’t feel bad if she still hated you, though,” Ray agrees, pointing at him with his spoon and dripping a little of the ice cream onto Boston’s lap – he doesn’t seem to notice, still looking to the ceiling, as Ray adds, “When are you leaving for New York? Do you have an apartment?”
This sigh is somehow even more world-weary.
“It’s going to take fucking forever,” he starts complaining, suddenly animated.
As he explains the problems that come with trying to move up his original visa plans, Ray realises this is a conversation he can actually understand even though it’s about practical stuff – that’s a first for him. Of course it’s because of his plans with Sand.
They go back-and-forth about visas and how stupid they are for a while before Ray turns to the most important thing about this revelation and says, “So that’s a couple months where we can still hang, then.”
Boston snorts, leans back in his chair, and nudges Ray’s knee with his own.
“I was planning on spending the time busy, actually.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Hell yeah. Bar hopping,” he counts off on his fingers, “Taking photos. Mostly, fucking any guy in the city I haven’t already… so that means you don’t qualify to hang with me.”
Ray kicks him, and Boston kicks him back and gets him in a loose headlock, and if Ray actually tries to get out he’ll knock over the chairs so he elbows him lightly and says, “Asshole, let me up,” until Boston laughingly does.
“You’re fine with him being mad at you for it,” Boston trails off without quite making it into a question, but Ray sees where he’s going.
He sits up and says, “Mew makes his own decisions, but he wasn’t mad at Cheum.”
They look at each other, and Ray thinks he sees some relief in Boston’s eyes at the answer, barely there in the reflection of the window.
Ray bites his lip and looks out of the window too.
“Me and Sand want to travel,” he adds to the darkness, “We might see New York one day.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
8 notes · View notes
francesminos-tt · 1 year
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Twisted -3-
Daeron retired to his room at precisely 8pm. Miss K was kind enough to offer him some night tea, but Daeron refused politely. Instead, he asked for two bottled water and a copy of today’s local newspaper before entering his room and locking the door.
There were only two rooms in this small tavern, one tucked in the back, spacious with a view of the garden, the other small and facing the streets. Daeron opted for the small one, not because he couldn’t afford the spacious one, but he needed the convenience of observing the streets and the villagers passing by.
Daeron wiped away the thin layer of dust on the desk, carefully took the notebook out of his pocket, put down two water bottles, fished out his pills from the backpack, and sat down. He took some time to align the pill bottle and two water bottles perfectly before opening this notebook and began to write.
Daeron had developed the habit of writing his thoughts down since he was ten. His therapist suggested that he used this as an outlet of his emotions, to let your thoughts out, not keeping them in, sweetie. Daeron couldn’t even remember what the kind therapist looked like, but he took her advice. Over the years, his notebook served more than just a dairy, but an anchor to keep him in the reality.
Daeron flipped through the newspaper, its headline reading Expect a hot summer this year and mind your crops! The local issue contained mostly information of weather, farming, back yard sale, farmer’s market or interesting convention a few towns over, advertisements, and so on. The most dubious thing Daeron found in this newspaper was someone called Y asking for a companion to share his large house and look after his cow. No mention of the three bodies flooded out of the swamp just outside of the village.
Daeron was suspended from duty due to his violent behavior towards a murder suspect, so he had lost his privilege of accessing the police database. Still, he followed crime news as best as he could, especially cases involving pre-teen girls. The three bodies that had been flooded out were all skeletons, their flesh gone, but from the height of the skeletons, it was clear that they were all children. Daeron had a hunch that there was more to this cold case than it appeared. That was why he came to Arcadia.
After reading the newspaper for three times and found nothing useful, Daeron sighed and folded the paper back to its original state. He placed the neatly folded paper on the desk and took two pills with water before lying down on his bed.
He stared at the ceiling; the nicely carved mahogany spoke to the history of this place. Not only this tavern, but the whole village seemed to be frozen in the past, in a time when everyone trusted everyone. This place was an ideal image of country life, quiet and friendly, the beauty of nature bringing out the best of humanity.
Or the worst.
Daeron felt his eyelids grew heavier and heavier. He fell asleep with a white farm house and a pair of flirty dark eyes in mind.
May 29th
The village is quieter than I expected. I haven’t met many people yet, but the tavern owner, Miss K, told me that the town square is the place to go to meet new people. I might test my luck there tomorrow.
There was no news about the burial site before my phone died. I will have to use the classic approach and consult the newspaper for further updates. I still think there are more victims than the three bodies flooded out of the mud. My instinct is rarely wrong.
I met a young man Joffrey is He has dark hair He is chatty flirty beautiful
A young man showed me around the village. He lived in the white farm house on the hill. His name is Joffrey.
================================================
Joffrey took another shower after he finished washing the dishes and feeding the dog at the backyard. He changed into a set of cheeky lingerie paired with a silk robe. He switched off all lights in the house and went to the master bedroom.
Master was already in bed, a book in hand with his reading glasses on. He was relaxed and casual, his neat hair brushed back to reveal his unimpressed face. He wore a simple navy-blue T-shirt, rimmed reading glassed hanging dangerously on his nose as he flipped the pages. He looked ordinary at best. An ordinary farmer who lived in the village all his life.
But to Joffrey, Master was nothing but ordinary. Joffrey learned to admire the neatly combed hair, the small crease between his brows, thin lips, grey blue eyes, the narrow jaw, well defined chest and arms, large calloused hands, the hairs on his navel, strong legs, and warm cock. Joffrey shifted at the door way as his panties grew uncomfortably tight. Just imagining Master naked under the sheets was enough to make him whine for attention.
“Come here, good boy.” Master put down the book and smiled at Joffrey, “Don’t ruin the carpet with your slutty juice.”
Joffrey didn’t need to be told twice. He strode to the bed and threw himself at his Master, nuzzling the man’s chest like a clingy cat.
“Did you feed the dog?” Master asked him, parting Joffrey’s robe and brushing against the boy’s pink nipple under the sheer lingerie.
“Yes, Master.” Joffrey shifted on the sheets to give the man more access, “He liked the leftover chicken.”
“Because it is stained with your blood, dear Joffrey.” Master chuckled, grabbing Joffrey’s leaking cock over his panties, “You know my dog shares my taste. I like your blood too.”
Joffrey had cut his finger while preparing for the herbed chicken, and Master forbid him to wash the blood stain away, so they had chicken seasoned with Joffrey’s blood tonight.
“I am all yours, Master.” Joffrey murmured with all the honesty in the world, “My blood, flesh, bones, and soul. You made me, Master. I am your creation.”
The man’s breath caught in his throat. For a fleeting moment, his mask cracked, all his confidence and grace gone, leaving only his core, raw and vulnerable. He kissed Joffrey’s murmuring lips, their breath tangled together like their limbs.
“Can I have your cock tonight, Master?” Joffrey asked, sneaking his hand down to grab the man’s throbbing length, “Please. I haven’t felt you inside of me for so long.”
“It’s only two days.” Master chuckled.
“It’s an eternity.” Joffrey insisted, fluttering his thick lashes seductively, “Please, I need you, Master.”
The man caved in at last. How could he reject his boy, his most precious treasure, his masterpiece?
They made love well into the night, until both of them were so exhausted that they could no longer lift a finger.
“I met someone today.” Joffrey whispered as he began to doze off, his tone relaxed as if he was talking about a stray animal he found in the streets, “A visitor.”
The man hummed, unimpressed as usual.
Joffrey rolled to his side and clung to his Master’s strong arm. He took a deep inhale, letting the man’s distinctive smell invade his nostrils.
“I wonder how long can he hold on?”
“We will see, Joffrey.” Master kissed Joffrey’s forehead, “We will see.”
19 notes · View notes
luchicm04 · 6 months
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lost in the forest - part 13
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Masterlist
Summary: The clan is officially presented with their guest, and not all of them are happy.
Pairing: Senju Tobirama/Original Female Character
Tag: #lost in the forest fic
posted on ao3
Word Count: 3.4k
Overall warnings: canon-typical violence, adult content, time skips, angst, kidnapping
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She can’t help comparing this with a day of bad meetings, where your boss just looks for who pays for the broken dishes of a poor planning where sales expectations were placed at the highest, with worse results. The tension, the looks... As a marketing manager, everyone points to this department as the one to blame for the lack of momentum. 
Being that it is not. 
Karen is familiar with that. She raises her chin, stands straight... and although this is not the same, she follows the rhythm of her light walk with her uncomfortable shoes and extravagant clothing. She wants to run, to not see these people who look at her with shamelessness. 
The road is long... accompanied by the old woman named Kaori. 
“Very good,” Mikami praises seeing the movement and judging her even at this moment. Seriously, she took this task very strictly to the letter.
A true professional. 
Karen doesn’t say anything. She wants to turn around, analyze and observe this part of the house that she is sure she hasn’t been to before. Well, what is there to say of that hallway with a door she never saw but is the least of it being involved in the panorama of the event where silence reigns. 
It’s obvious people are curious, morbid... they don’t want her there. 
They arrive at a house of enormous proportions right in the middle of the cobbled roads of a complex of humble houses full of wood. Many dressed in kimonos form around the large plaza that forms in front of their goal. 
Mikami and Kaori bow in respect... Karen doesn’t want to do it but gives in to the formality of those she can see in front of her. She wonders what kind of position Hashirama and Tobirama have whom they see in the middle, surrounded by a bunch of old people who she almost swears is the accursed council. 
The people who have forced her out of her isolation... her depression and loneliness. 
The culprits of her torture disguised as cultural learning. 
“So this is the woman.” An old man with a long beard lightly caresses said facial decoration with curiosity, breaking the silence that spread through the place. 
“Yes, she is.” Tobirama is the one who responds with a scolding gesture. She looks at the one with long hair who remains haughty... imposing. She never thought that the cheerful and mysterious Hashirama could look more intimidating than his brother. Karen gives him a point for it. 
Making him stand out like a sure toe. 
“Today is a day of festivities...” The softest of her kidnappers is in the front, while the bustle around her accelerates at her side... approaching as if she were the most important thing in existence. The civilian does not avoid being scared. So many presences maker her anxious after a year locked up without any contact. 
Her beautiful anniversary is months away... how ironic. 
She loses herself in what the host says, spending a few seconds rambling between the plans she wants to make from now on, what these people expect and preparing for the worst. “Karen-san?” Mikami is the one who calls to her side, making her blink at the interruption of her astral absence. 
Almost projecting herself somewhere else mentally than where she is physically. 
She feels how all eyes are focused on her back. There are whispers of ‘rude woman’ that she ignores among many other insults. “Karen?” Someone calls her forward. The man who shakes his hand smiles brightly, animated and full of life. “Come.” 
“Uh... ” She wants to say a lot of things, especially that she is not the best at this moment for this kind of spectacle. Karen hesitates... She ends up smiling out of nervousness as she takes the hand of the one who waits calmly, precious seconds that many begin to misunderstand although it means little to her, including the look of death that Tobirama gives her. 
“She will be important for the next step of our clan,” says the man next to her when he sees that all the people are looking at them. She smiles... hiding her nervousness by giving a warning squeeze to who does not let go. “In order to achieve something similar to peace.” 
Hashirama looks confident, so honest in his desire that many people begin to applaud. She can see that the council does not look satisfied, much less understands her role at this point. 
Karen doesn’t look, she stays in her safe position so as not to say the opposite. 
“Hashirama?” The woman says almost in a whisper knowing that there will be no turning back from this. Things will change and she will be so tired of dealing with them. 
“Do not worry... I told you, have confidence,” the man assures his accomplice and then looks at the council who is confused by thus action, denoting how rare her presence is among those people who she believes have the same bloodthirsty profession. “As a civilian noble, she will be important to continue dealing with the nobles, as you will see she has the necessary etiquette to negotiate with those who fear us and perhaps we can achieve peace.” He sounds so visionary that the others just smile. 
But Karen knows what kind of smiles and false calm there is, remembering bitterly the meetings where the bosses... her superiors wanted to cut off heads for things that are not within their hands. Plus Hashirama just said that she is a noble... a title that isn’t hers. 
“As a clan leader, you are an idealist,” says one with a high ponytail, a bitter old man who raises his chin without showing any type of expression. The people continue whispering... oblivious, obedient to what the two tall factions are exchanging. 
And Karen is in the middle... great. 
“I am... but for the future of the family,” Hashirama assures firmly. 
“Does Tobirama-sama think the same?” Another calls, with a long beard and an ugly scar on his cheek. 
“You do not have to ask,” the albino bites poisonously. “My brother has the idea and now, we can ensure that it lasts.” 
“A civilian... Do you really want to entrust the future of our clan to a civilian?” Another old man with short hair and a lost look questions sincerely and harshly. 
“She is not a simple civilian noble, she is a visionary... she does not fear us like the others,” the clan leader assures firmly. Karen feels that he is giving her a lot of credit either to saving her life or to prove her worth without knowing her. 
Where does he get so much confidence from? Why does he put her in this predicament? Is it her only salvation? Couldn’t he say something less compromising? 
“What do you say, girl?” Another spits poisonously, seeing her between two of the most powerful men of the clan. She blinks to gulp thickly and pretends... she remains her voice and gaze to those who look down on her. 
“I may be a civilian, gentlemen, but I will adapt to what is planned and I shall give the pertinent suggestions to ensure that this does not remain in simple words and can have the best results,” Karen affirms, putting one last nail in that figurative coffin that she is easily making for herself. 
Tobirama huffs from her back but doesn’t add anything else, although Hashirama laughs, lightly hitting her back almost making her fall. “I told you... it will be a new future...” 
“Mph... we hope so, child,” the first old man who spoke to them accepts to look at the rest of the members of that mafia firmly. 
“It is time to start the event. Enjoy the food and drink,” Hashirama declares with a solemn gesture in front of all eyes. The others cheer, smile and begin to organize themselves to start an event between gallant clothes together with smells that awaken hunger. 
“Was it the only way?” Karen questions in her harsh language. She frowns at who returns a gesture different from the previous one. 
“It was.” 
“At least you could have warned me, right?” She feels irritated, used and extremely offended for being placed in this predicament. 
“No... it was necessary,” the man stubbornly states, giving a gesture to Tobirama who snorts and rolls hie eyes. 
“Of course... like everything else,” she complains. Remembering that she shouldn’t ask too many questions, she crosses her arms to look at the man. She has a lot to say, things to shout at him but in the midst of so many eyes that are still waiting for her to react badly it’s necessary to lower her presence when she is clearly the center. “And let me tell you... I am not a noblewoman,” she complains again. 
“You are not?” The one with long hair blinks like an innocent owl and she frowns. She knows this is a performance but she doesn’t comment on anything else. 
“It will not be difficult to appear to be. You do not look like someone who has worked the land hard nor a murderer,” Tobirama adds with a cold touch to the conversation. 
“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Karen comments bitterly with a growing headache, she frowns and raises her eyebrow at who smiles expectantly. “So... leader, huh?” Better focus her attention elsewhere in this strange environment. 
“Yes, the leader of the Senju clan,” Hashirama confirms with a tone full of pride. 
Karen does not avoid raising her eyebrow. She more or less calculates his age at less than 25 which makes him very young for so much responsibility. “You are very young.” 
“I am,” the leader blinks amused. 
“Wow... I guess I won’t have any more surprises today... I hope,” Karen complains looking at the albino. “And your brother?” She reminds the one who remains indifferent and bitter, as if he had lost a fight that he had not been told about. 
“Hashirama is my brother,” he says with a dignified frown, after exchanging a look with the black-haired man. Karen does not avoid looking at them with doubt, she compares them and notices a certain resemblance that is not so quick to grasp... again she exchanges a gesture between both of them to snort tiredly. 
“I want to go now,” she complains with no desire to say anything else. She doesn’t want to think about the plot she got into where politics are so difficult to deal with. She massages the bridge of her nose, being ignored by both men who have a plan behind her back. 
The beginning of such a drastic change in her routine. 
──
She sits far from the noise that extends all night and gives another long yawn, looking at the stars with no desire to continue pretending to have a role in this society. 
They have kidnapped her, isolated her enough that they dare ask her to maintain a role as a civilian noble who will help this clan grow. 
It’s not her business... but it’s what she has in her hands. 
“What would you do, dad?” She better decides to remember her old father, the one who always had the best solutions to problems and advised her in her difficult moments of crossroads. 
She misses him... She wants to leave and Karen can’t. 
“So you are noble,” some calls, scaring her. She recognizes her which makes her frown. “Wow... don’t be so hostile, I just want to be your friend,” she assures. 
“...” 
“I won’t take you out now.” The woman better focuses with a funny raise of her hands. 
“What do you need?” She raises her eyebrow with dignity. She wants to shout so many things at her... because she went through a lot when she was taken out and found that first village. 
Because she knows it was her... she will never forget it. 
“Wow... now you understand my language, it was so tiring dealing with you.” 
“...” 
“I’m just saying, to be the leader’s pet you turned out to be of good blood.” 
Karen does not take this bluff quickly. She frowns looking around where no one happens to pass by and tries to follow the path leaving this discomfort far away but is swiftly stopped by that woman. 
Denoting that she is just as rare as Hashirama and Tobirama. 
“You know... I don’t know what Hashirama-sama sees in you... or even Tobirama-sama... What did you did you give them?” 
Karen simply raises her chin. “You better tread carefully...” 
“Senju Touka,” the woman points out with pride and an ironic smile. She takes part of a lock of her hair lightly. “For a woman, you don’t have much to offer... noble or not, you’re just still a civilian.” 
Karen does not avoid frowning at such a cheeky comment. She sighs to raise her hand. “I have no relationship with the brothers.” 
“Huh?” The woman blinks. 
“I know it’s uncomfortable to accept, but you don’t have to make me a target for intimidation when I have nothing to do romantically speaking with those men.” Karen prefers to clarify their relationship before this gets complicated. “I’m not interested in them.” 
“What do you mean?!” The girl turns red at such an insinuation. 
“Look... It’s complicated but as Hashirama said, I only come to see how I can help as a civilian... even if you think I’m useless, I have my uses.” 
“You...” She shinobi simply blinks and opens her mouth a couple of times. “You don’t have to tell me that!” She squeezes her shoulders harshly. 
“I just... Well, I think I misunderstood,” she frowns at the pain of such a small action. 
“I... well, Hashirama-sama and I are childhood friends, I saw him grow up... it’s... well...” The woman stammers, a little uncomfortable with what she has said. Karen tries to escape when she thinks she is no longer paying attention. 
The civilian simply falls on her back without any care. Touka is blushing at the little that was said, pointing out that in fact... although she does not accept it, she is romantically interested in those men. 
She doesn’t roll her eyes because she’s busy rubbing her shoulders. 
“You don’t know how hard they have tried! ...You  won’t help them in ANYTHING when you’ve gotten them into so much trouble!” 
“Touka!” Someone orders from behind the woman. She gulps to show a controlled Tobirama looking at her on the ground with little delicacy. “What exactly is happening here?” 
“I...” She purses her lips, looking at the civilian who sighs. 
“I fell... It's obvious,” she sighs bitterly, clumsily getting up with such an uncomfortable suit. “Touka just... well, she wanted to share part of her mind,” she shrugs. 
“Touka,” with a little warning and imposing feeling, she sighs to apologize and leave. 
“Uh... you were hard on her.” She feels bad that she is scolded by one of her idols, blamed for it... but the situation was so lamentable. 
Tobirama as always is not so surprised. “Hashirama sent me to look for you.” 
“I didn’t run away.” 
“You cannot.” 
Karen doesn’t say anything. They both have enough history to add more bitterness to a bond that won’t be fixed and they both don’t want to have, so she allows herself to be escorted in silence without saying anything more that could break that strange pact. 
The woman looks at Hashirama, who is talking to another old man very different from the ones presented before, although this one looks older than the previous ones. Ending up discussing politics is not the best closure for such a strange event. 
Less when she has a lot to say and a few words that come to mind. 
Karen thus had the first contact outside of her isolation, out of political obligation... The start of a series of triggers that would lead to another destiny so different from the one she believed. 
──
She feels so tired that she can no longer keep her eyes open. The party continues and she is obviously the only one who is losing at sleep resistance as she sits on the edge of that main house in the middle of the enormous field. 
There are drunk people, many who tried to approach her being interrupted by Tobirama... Mikami sometimes comes to scold her for her position as does Grandma Kaori. 
“Do not fall asleep here,” Tobirama complains, looking at her pathetically leaning on the edge of her seat with the table in front of her. 
“I’m sleepy.” 
“Can you not hold on ...anymore?” He adds awkwardly in English, a stratergy he uses when he feels there are people listening to their comments. To be the leaders... they are too observed. 
“I... I’m not used to it.” 
“Seriously... are you not a noble?” 
“I’m not,” she laughs just as much at that comment. 
“You cannot hold on.” 
“I’m not sorry about that,” the woman snorts slightly, yawning. “I’m not a noble but that’s already more than clear...” 
“Then?” 
“Then what?” 
“You have little training... muscles, but I do not see your hands hurt. You are not a worker.” 
“Not from the countryside or anything manual,” the woman clarifies, looking better at the sky when she feels her dream will not be soon. “I don’t know why I have to talk to you...” 
“Mmmmm...” Tobirama raises his eyebrow in a call for attention. 
“Look... I still dislike you, you don’t have to accompany me.” 
“Hashirama is not here.” 
The girl doesn’t comment anything, sitting in such an uncomfortable environment. She wants to leave, ignore the guy but people around her are so happy that she could break this strange moment. 
“Is what Hashirama said true?” Karen asks out of nowhere to her silent partner, that gargoyle that always stands next to her. 
“What?” He snaps bitterly. 
“About peace.” 
“It is none of your business,” the man declares coldly. 
“If I remember correctly, Hashirama said I would help, so if you are going to get me into this, at least we must exhange something...” The woman frowns, not at all intimidated by the man’s position of respect for the clan, the fact that he could kill her or anything that makes her shut up. 
A difficult thing... Karen is not one of those who keeps everything in her hoarse chest. 
The albino frowns to look at the panorama they share in the middle of the festival. “We are at war.” 
“I see.” Karen now understands why there was so much bitterness and mistrust if they are in difficult times. “War is complicated... a thing that should not exist.” 
“Mph... you do not know what you are saying.” 
“Just because my hands aren’t full of calluases or I haven’t seen the blood doesn’t mean that I don’t know what war is.” The woman twists her mouth, crossing her arms in an annoyed scold. “I know what it is, what it takes away and makes people change.” 
“...” 
“Where I come from... there were many wars, nations that fell... I just,” she sighs, not wanting to talk about the things she knows, the sad things in her world. “It can be achieved... peace...” 
“Mph...” 
“Do you not believe it?” 
“It is not that I believe it... as long as Hashirama believes it,” he said with a cold tone... but somehow warm, strange about him, which makes her notice that he appreciates his brother a lot. 
“Having siblings is great.” She focuses her interest better on another funny point of such a bitter conversation. Karen may be curious but she notices that there are things that are better to remain ignorant of. 
“...” 
“I have one... a little sister.” 
“...I did not ask.” 
“Uh... jerk," Karen does not avoid commenting, seeing that the guy really does not want her to share part of her thoughs. “That’s why you are the worst company... I jjst wanted to tell you things.” 
“I do not need them.” 
“Well... jerk,” she repeats in a frank complaint. The good thing is that Mikami and Kaori come at the same time to end this debate before they end up fighting for different opinions. They respectfully greet Tobirama to give the order to return to the house she now longs to be in. 
She’s socialized enough tonight... too much for her liking when she’s already so used to isolation, loneliness and so on, that taking off her kimono would be the best gift along with the hard sandals. 
Karen only had one thought when she got the her room... sleep.  It woundn’t be such a bad idea. 
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A/N: As you can see, they will use her as something political, something that Hashirama has discussed a lot with Tobirama behind closed doors, because they have seen it... they know she can be useful in a non-combatant perspective... at least it was not the option of getting married as the councilors said.
Karen from now on will necessarily have more participation in different bureaucratic things that she will begin to correct and address. Not as an assistant because there are classified things... but at least the simplest things such as organization of what was purchased as input or things like that for the clan.
Finally going out to meet more people... Could it be?
Thank you for your comments. The story develops slowly, but surely it will go making its way little by little. Also, I remind you that the things written in bold is the local language of the Elemental Nations.
Author-chan out! 
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sparklepool101 · 2 years
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Burgers and Fires
[ Welcome to the CotC fic I finished at 12:40 something am last night because the new episode made me emotional lmao. Spoilers for Craig to the Future below! ]
:readmore:
“Thank you Herkleton! That was the last song of tonight. Exits are located in the back, along with our merch stands wink wink. Have a safe trip home and a rocking night!”
The crowd cheered one last time, before turning and heading back to the lobby, right where Craig was waiting. Kit nudged his arm.
“Alright, last wave of sales.” She said.
“Yep,” Craig said, staring at the doors. Omar and JP had just entered the lobby, laughing together. Kelsey and Stacks were nowhere to be seen.
“I can handle these guys, you go on.” Kit said. Craig jumped a bit before looking back at her. He took in her sideways smile and felt his brow furrow.
“Are you sure? The crowd is bound to be bigger now--”
“Come on Craig, I know you’ve been antsy all night. Go ask them to hang out or something, I can handle the crowd.”
“All right, if you’re sure…” Craig His chest felt like it was full of ants as he approached the duo. It had ended so awkwardly before the concert, but he couldn’t let this chance slip away. Their group had been steadily growing apart since JP entered high school, and he missed his friends so much.
Craig bit the bullet and called out to them. “Hey, JP! Omar!” The two turned their heads.
“Hey, Craig!” JP said, walking over to meet him. “Man, did you see Katie’s trick up there?”
“Nah, I was back at the merch stand.”
“Why?” Omar asked, slinging his arm around JP’s shoulder. “Are they paying ya’?”
“Oh, kind of? David actually commissioned me to make the T-shirts over there and he asked if I’d help man the stand as well.” Craig rubbed the back of his neck.
“Dude really? That’s sick!” Omar said, face lighting up.
“Aw come here!” JP pulled Craig into a hug. “I’m so proud of you man! I’ve definitely gotta buy one now. Babe, you still have my wallet?”
“Right here.” Omar tossed the small leather wallet over to JP, who caught it in one hand.
“Be right back!” JP rushed into the crowd gathered around the stand, leaving Craig and Omar alone,
A few beats of silence passed before Craig gathered up the courage to talk. “So, you guys doing anything after this?”
“Mmm probably just hanging out nearby, maybe grab a bite to eat, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Moment of truth. “You want to come with me to get some burgers?”
“I’m down for that.” Omar smiled. “It’s been way too long since we’ve hung out.” Craig smiled back and put his hands in his pockets. They chatted a bit more while waiting for JP to come back, mostly about teachers at school.
“Oh yeah, no Mrs. Denadio was the worst. One time, she assigned a whole project and only gave us two days to work on it.”
“No. Don’t tell me that’s the final project she’s been talking about all semester.”
“Good luck, man.”
“Hey, guys!” JP called as he ran over, wearing the t-shirt over his sweater. “What do y’all think?” He posed a bit, showing off the shirt.
“As handsome as always, babe. Craig wanted to go grab some food with us, you down for that?”
“Oh absolutely! Let’s go celebrate your first step on the road to fame.
It was odd how easily they fell back into a familiar pattern of banter. (But not at all unwelcome.) Craig felt like he was ten again, walking alongside two of his best friends as they chatted. It just stung remembering that there was only one redhead with them now.
The burger place’s ‘open 24-hours’ sign glowed a neon blue onto the trio’s faces. JP held the door open for the other two as they entered the building. It smelled like over-salted fries and grilled meat, with just a few people sitting at tables.
“Welcome, what can I get you three?” The cashier looked like they wanted to be anywhere else, especially with the huge eye bags they had.
“I’ll have a cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate shake,” Craig said.
“And add two number three combos to that,” Omar said, pulling out his wallet.
“I can pay for my stuff,” Craig said.
“No way man, I’ll cover tonight.” Omar winked at him and passed a card over to the cashier.
“Thanks.”
“Alright, here’s your receipt. We’ll get the food out in a bit.” The trio stepped back from the register. JP leaned against a pillar while Omar grabbed their cups and went to the soda fountain. Pulling out his phone to text his parents, Craig shot a quick message to the family group chat telling them where he was.
An electronic bell signified that the front door had opened again, and Craig looked up. Kelsey and Stacks walk in hand in hand, Kelsey was rambling about something while Stacks watched her with adoring eyes. Craig felt his heart seize for a moment. The last time he had talked to Kelsey, like really talked to her, was back in middle school, and when they bumped into each other at the concert, she was so quick to find a reason to leave.
“Hey, Kels!” JP called out. Kelsey and Stacks both looked over. Stacks smiled and waved, but for a brief moment, Kelsey looked scared, which terrified Craig more than anything. (Because if he got back in touch with JP and Omar without her, it would never feel right. There would always be something missing.)
“Hi JP! Fancy seeing you here.” Stacks said as she led Kelsey over to the two of them. “You bought one of their shirts?”
“Duh! I had to, especially since ol’ Craiggy boy did the art.” JP boasted, gesturing at Craig who giggled at the old nickname and praise.
Kelsey looked at Craig with wide eyes. “You designed those?”
“Uh, y-yeah.”
“Dude! Those look so good! I didn’t know that you could draw that good! I mean, I knew that you could draw well but, like,” Kelsey started rambling, scrambling for the right words.
“What she means is,” Stacks placed her spare hand on Kelsey’s shoulder. “The shirts look really good, Craig!”
“Thanks.” Craig and Kelsey smiled at each other for a moment before looking away again.
“You want to sit with us?” Craig finally asked, bridging the gap.
“Yeah, sure. Let’s get our food first though.” Kelsey and Stacks walked over to the register.
“Dude, what was that?” Omar said, handing JP his drink. “Did you and Kelsey have a fight or something?”
“No. At least I don’t think so, it just…” Craig sighed. “We kept drifting apart once we stopped hanging out at the Creek as much, once I started high school. We never saw each other in the halls anymore, and I started working on art more seriously and got together with Vanessa, and Kelsey got into wrestling properly and started working on her book with Stacks and… I don’t know. It’s weird.”
“Well,” Omar said, after a long sip of his drink. “I think you guys will be fine.”
“Really?”
“Sometimes you don’t talk to someone for a while, life happens,” Omar shrugged. “But when you are as close as the four of us are, you can always slip right back into a conversation like no time has passed.”
“You really think so?”
“I know so. I mean, just look at us.” Omar smiled.
“Yeah, man!” JP added.
“Thanks, guys.” Craig felt a bit better, like there was hope for the old "Stump Kids" after all.
“Order forty-three!” An employee called from the counter, and Omar ran to go grab it.
“Just talk to her, Craig,” JP said. “Hey, maybe we could even go on a triple date some time!”
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah, I’ll call Maney and ask if she’d be down for that, I know Omar would.”
“I’ll think about it,” Craig said. "And ask Vanessa." Omar came back with the trays of food and led the three of them to a corner booth. Soon, Kelsey and Stacks joined them with their own food.
"So, how's the book going?" JP asked before shoving some fries in his mouth.
"Relly good, actually! We're super close to finishing." Stacks said.
"And then it's getting sent off to the publishers!" Kelsey said with a cheshire grin.
"Man, that's sick! Will ya let me read it once it's done?" Omar said.
"You can buy a copy like everyone else, unless we get a punlishing deal within half a year." Stacks said, smiling slyly.
"Well then, get ready to let us read that book for free because I have no dobut you'll get that deal in no time!" JP cheered.
"Oh to have no knowledge of the publishing world." Kelsey sighed, causing Stacks to giggle.
The conversation fell into a lull, leaving the group to pick at their food. Craig glanced up at Kelsey sitting across from him, and steeled his resolve.
"I'm sorry, Kelsey."
"Huh?" Kelsey looked up at Craig, fry halfway on the way to her mouth.
"I should have... I don't know. I should have tried harder to reach out to you and stay in touch, or--"
"Craig," Kelsey cut him off. "I'm sorry too. I-- when you got to high school I was scared that you were going to stop wanting to be friends so I didn't ask you to hang out as much and--"
"No, I'm--"
"Okay, that's enough." JP cutoff Craig and put an end to the apology loop. "You two both difted apart, but neither of you are completely at fault. Yeah you two might have been able to do something differently, but what's done is done. And now we're here, eating burgers and hanging out, even after all that." JP slung his arm around Omar. "We're stuck together guys, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. Besides, you promised I could officiate your wedding, Craig, and I still plan on getting that certification."
"Heh, yeah." Craig looked back around Kelsey. "I really missed you."
"I missed you too." Kelsey slipped out of her side of the booth and onto Craig's side, wrapping him into a hug. "Don't let me be dumb like that again."
"You weren't dumb, Kelsey." Craig hugged her back and rested his chin on her head. "We both messed up, I'm so sorry."
"Stop saying your sorry." Kelsey laughed into the hug before pulling back and wiping at her eyes. "I missed you so much."
"I missed you too."
[ yeah thats it lmao sorry. Check out my other cotc stuff on Ao3, I’m sparklepool101, and orange poncho has consumed my mind now :) ]
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Beautiful Spouse’s Rewatch Thoughts SPN 03x02 
The Kids Are Alright
“Are we going to find out what kind of blade can kill a demon? I can’t remember her name.” “Just average middle-class American house. Because everyone has a porch and pillars and shit” “That looks like a dull-ass blade. You wouldn’t want to use that on real wood” “That translate file was supposed to be impressive. Translation software sucked ass back then.” Spouse doesn’t know what Gumby is
I think it’s super gross that Dean is going to drop by after 8 years for a sex weekend
“Is she married now or something?” “Do we ever find out if Ben is actually Dean’s or not?” “They zoomed in on his ass”
“Thirsty girls huh?” “Yup. I know they planned the scene but yeah” “There’s something wrong with her” then laughed
“Ruby, right?” “Deep fried crack? Really?” “The ink isn’t sticking very well” “they still left the ladder up” “You’re just going to just leave the ladder there with all the kids around? It even has the little tips” “oh shit” “she’s grabbing her neck too. Wtf” “is this how parents have a mental fkn breakdown? Kids are knocking on the bathroom door but in their mind, this is what’s happening?” “I don’t understand - is the demon kid hungry or something?” “Dean looked around making sure he’s not going to get in trouble for laughing” “I mean Dean is being creepy. She’s not wrong.” “Oh she’s just going to kill the kid. I see how it is” “don’t need the car. Don’t need the kid. Don’t need anything in the car” “is the kid just going to show up right behind her?” “Wow. That was really easy for her.” “So her husband just died and she just killed her kid” “creepy shit” “Sam’s shirt is the worst. At least his hair is shorter except for the center part. Fucking nerd” “Just the way they phrase shit dude” “What a creepy ass motherfucker. Dean is not being cool. He met her 8 years ago, creeped on her kid’s party, and is now asking her to leave her house? This is the fastest way to get shot” “Oh man. I thought we were off to a good start. Dean has ripped jeans ago” “That pile of dirt is for sale. And it has a half-finished house on a Hollywood set” “Wouldn’t you holler for Sam first?” “What do they do with the kids?” “Nobody can hear what’s happening upstairs?” “Why not use your own fkn coat Dean?” “murder his ass” “never mind” “not very speedy with the zippo” laughed at the kids disappearing
“Not going to question why he’s with Dean and this stranger?” “probably wouldn’t be so weird the first time through but god damn” “what a weird scene” “what the fuck is sam doing? Checking about mom’s friends?” “when is she going to do the eye flip?”
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atdutiesend · 2 years
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😂😂
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{ @cxsmictxy wanted the worst jokes | Always Accepting, there's a meme somewhere }
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"Alright kiddies, settle in, I'm gonna tell you about... hm, let's make this relevant and call it Mhachi Dick." Grim cracked his knuckles, grinning broadly.
"So there's this lovely married couple, who are just so in love, and have a very active love life. Make the Chais look tame, y'know, that kind of lovey dovey yes darling absolute ad-or-a-tion~." He waited for the retching sound before continuing. "But, the husband has a job that means he has to take business trips pretty often. And they both hate it, but the wife, she gets bored waiting for her husband to come home. And toys just... don't do it for her. But her husband isn't going to leave her with just her hand for company, oh no. So he visits every brothel and sex shop in town, looking for something to keep his wife occupied while he's away for work."
"Why not just bring her with him?"
"She's a homemaker and runs their social life. Don' worry about it." Grim flicked Dove's forehead for interrupting him. "Anyways, he finally gets to this real hole in the wall rundown lookin' place. It's the last one on the list for a reason, y'know, but none of the nice places had anything approachin' good enough for his wife. So in he goes to talk to the shopkeep. They go through every toy the shopkeeper has, but still nothin' good enough. The shopkeep eyes him real good an' says, 'Well, alright, I have one thing that might work, but it ain't for sale. Rent only.' The guy sighs and nods, so the shopkeep goes to the back room, and comes back a few minutes later with this ancient-lookin' wooden box. He opens it, and there's this equally-ancient wooden dildo inside. So the guy's like, 'what the fuck man, I'm not putting this in my wife, what kind of hemp are you smoking'?" Grim paused, breaking out his most shit-eating grin and spreading hiss hands.
"Well, of course, that's when the shopkeep grins at him all smug-like an' says, 'Mhachi Dick, the keyhole.' Well, sure as shit, the dildo suddenly springs to life, flies over to the keyhole, and starts fucking the shit out of it. The door's banging about, and if a building could get off, well,..." This is, of course, accompanied by hand gestures. Very explicit ones.
"Mister businessman is now very interested. 'How much for it?' "'Oh, I can't sell it.' "'Five million gil, in cash, now.' "'... Well alright, but remember to tell it when you're finished with it- Mhachi Dick, back in the box.' The businessman goes back to his wife, of course, and shows it off. She's just as unimpressed as he was at first, until gets her to try it. And she loves it! She's so turned on that she practically jumps her husband, and they do as they've always done, making loud messy love all over the house."
Dove groaned, dragging a hand down their face.
"So anyways, the next day he leaves for his trip. And his wife keeps busy most of the day, but come nightfall, she's really missing her husband. So she gets it out. 'Mhachi Dick, my pussy.' And it goes to town on her. Most powerful orgasms she's ever had in her life. She's shaking and trembling, three orgasms in, and finally says, 'Mhachi Dick, stop!' But of course..."
"It doesn't stop."
"Right. She didn't say the magic words. She keeps trying, 'Mhachi Dick, enough! Mhachi Dick, turn off!' but nothing works. Now she's six or seven in and getting sore. She's gonna have to go talk to a chirugeon or the conjurers, just to find someone who knows how to stop it. So she puts on her most covering nightgown and robe and sloooowly waddles her way out of the house, eases herself into a carriage, and starts trying to navigate her way into town. Of course, a nosy guard notices she's having some trouble.
"'Ma'am, should you really be driving a chocobo? You seem pretty inebriated.' "'I- I'm fine, I just, just need to see a conjur-jurer, that's all.' "'Uh huh, step off the cart, we'll escort you.' "'Really, ser, I'm comple-etly sober! I've just got a, a magic dildo that won't stop--'
"Of course, the guard isn't impressed. She must be high as balls on some real good hemp or soma or something. 'Sure, ma'am, and what's this called?' "'Oh, it's called Mhachi Dick, ser...' "'Uh huh, Mhachi Dick, my ass.'"
Grim waited, watching Dove with a mostly straight face. Dove blinked, then cackled, falling out of their chair as they howled.
"That's terrible!"
"I know!"
Eventually, Dove recovered enough to point at Grim. "Okay, okay. Why's bein' in a grand company like gettin' a blow job?"
"What?"
"The closer you get to discharge, the better you feel."
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eepesleepy · 6 months
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The first one that I remember: I was back in high school and Caleb Pressley was my history teacher. At least, he was supposed to be teaching history. Instead, he was piss-drunk. At one point, he tripped on the way to the whiteboard and had to grab a hold of the eraser tray to drag himself up off the ground. Once he was on his feet, he started a lecture on the fine art of salesmanship. He wrote "Always be closing" on the whiteboard, then replaced "be" with "losing" and brought "closing" to the front of the sentence so the sentence read, "Closing always losing." Then he went on some tangent about how closing was actually the worst thing to do in a sales interaction because closing meant the potential to lose. Instead, he said to relentlessly sell until there is absolutely no doubt that you've won. Then close. Then my high school crush stood up and accused him of drinking and that was the end of that dream.
The next dream I had I woke up in the middle of the night at the family lake house. I was staying there alone because I was going to college and commuting from the lake house. I went down to the basement to get some water. As I came out of the laundry room, I heard breathing. My body froze up. I was supposed to be alone. All the doors were locked. I knew there was no one else there with me. I called out, "Hello?" but there was no reply. My legs were numb, but I managed to haul them into motion, dragging one foot in front of the other until I was just outside the door to the nearest bedroom. There was definitely the sound of breathing, so I forced myself to open the door. My heart was in my throat. My head was throbbing with fear. I could just make out a shape under the comforter. Someone was asleep in the bed. "Hello?" I breathed, barely able to speak over my terror. "Hello?" I said as I inched closer to the bed. "Get up!" I managed as my throat closed up. The person rolled over and suddenly it was morning outside. Sunlight shot through the sliding glass door. The stranger sat up. He was fully clothed, including a jacket and a beanie. His face was rough and weathered, but he was still young, looking to be in his early twenties.
"You need to get out," I said. He gibbered something and reached for the nightstand. There was a wallet and a folded piece of paper. He grabbed the paper and handed it to me. It turned out to be multiple papers. They explained how this man suffered from various mental illnesses and needed someplace to stay.
I told him to follow me upstairs and we'd figure out what to do. He started talking at me but I couldn't understand what he was saying. I kept trying to read the papers but I couldn't get far with him blabbering on. I managed to read, "Why I have a long knife" on one of the pages and I immediately went into fight or flight. I went to the kitchen phone and as I picked it up to dial 9-1-1 a van pulled down the drive outside.
A family poured out. A man, a woman, three kids. They all walked up the porch steps and right through the front door like they owned the place. The man patted the other stranger on the back and said something about him being his son.
The woman started unloading groceries onto the counter and the man informed me that they'd be staying indefinitely. I was stunned. "You absolutely are not," I said, "I'm calling the police."
"Fine," the man said, "I'm calling them too." Outside, more cars were pulling in and more people were piling into the house. I dialed 9-1-1 and stepped out onto the back porch. I guess the call went directly to an officer because I could hear sirens in the background and the officer seemed out of breath. He told me he'd come as soon as he could but there were a lot of calls coming from the house so he'd have to get back up.
It was then that I started to fear for my life. The kinds of people that show up and just invite themselves into someone's house probably wouldn't have many reservations about eliminating the people whose home they were invading.
I ran off the back porch and down the hill into a bush. I looked back at the house. There were about fifteen people on the back porch, and a kid with a sawed-off shotgun was approaching the bush. He pointed it at the bush and I ran. He turned and shot.
Airsoft pellets pinged off my back. Relieved, I ran up onto the back porch and passed a dark-haired teenager sitting on one of the rocking chairs.
"This is the worst case of fraud homeownership we've ever done isn't it?" he asked someone near him.
Then I woke up.
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