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warrioreowynofrohan · 8 months

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After a reread of Persuasion, I’m thinking about how it relates to Austen’s character types discussed in this post. It stands out from S&S, P&P, and Mansfield Park in not haveing a ‘charming rake’ type as the main male antagonist, but instead a reserved, intelligent, courteous, cold-blooded and selfish man. There is no counterpart to Willoughby, Wickham, or Henry Crawford.

Instead, if Mr. Elliot is a counterpart to any of the characters in Austen’s other novels, he feels like a dark mirror of Darcy. They are both reserved; both (at least at the time of the main plot of the book) place a high value on social status, and look down on commonness and vulgarity. However, while Darcy’s arrogance makes him rude, Mr. Elliot has impeccable manners; and where Darcy in has strong principles and treats the people for whom he is responsible well, Mr. Elliot is a hypocrite and, though voicing good principles, is in fact cruel and uncaring to those who are dependent on him. Mr. Elliot is, really, the type of person that Wickham portrays Darcy as being. The other thing that brought this comparison to my mind is Mrs. Smith’s description of the friendship between her husband and Mr. Elliot, which very much recalls the one between Bingley and Darcy (as an additional note, both Mr. Smith and Bingley are named Charles):

From his wife’s account of him she could discern Mr. Smith to have been a man of warm feelings, easy temper, careless habits, and not strong understanding, much more amiable than his friend and very unlike him - led by him

I think this all goes with one of Austen’s common themes, and one that is especially important to Persuasion - the importance of not marrying in overmuch haste and without good knowledge of and, at a minimum, respect for your partner. Darcy is decidedly not like Mr. Elliot in character - but at the time if his first proposal, for all Elizabeth knew he might have been.

And on the flip side, Frederick Wentworth is not like Willoughby or Wickham - but given the short time Anne had known him when he first proposed, he might have been, and Lady Russell certainly sees that danger. He is, at that time, daring and charismatic, but not prudent, having saved none of the money that he won in his naval career. There’s also another reference to the ‘charming rake’ type in that, like Henry Crawford, he for a while courts two sisters, the elder of whom is attached (though, unlike Maria Bertram, not engaged) to another man. In Wentworth’s defence, he isn’t aware of the latter, and isn’t trying to make them both fall in love with him, just being his (naturally charming) self, and keeping his eyes open for who he might like to marry; and he very nearly gets himself badly entangled and, later, freely acknowledges that as his own fault. Really, Wentworth has elements of all three of Austen’s main male character types, and is the better for it. (Anne herself has, I think, the most in common with Elinor Dashwood in being the only sensible and intelligent person in her family, and in being very perceptive, and with Fanny Price is being rather quiet and imposed upon.)

On the whole, this combination of characters makes the book feel less on the side of intelligence and judgement, and more on the side of a warm and open heart, in making for happiness, whereas S&S and P&P focus more strongly on the need for ‘sense’ and intelligence. Intelligence may well be a necessary quality for a truly good marriage, but it is not a sufficient one, not when it is combined with a cold and selfish heart.

#jane austen #persuasion #pride and predujice #anne elliot #mr elliot #mr darcy #frederick wentworth

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animentality · 2 years

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People's reactions to the queens death piss me off because at face value, sure you shouldn't mock the dead because "basic human decency" but also.

Also.

I resent westerners who proclaim "basic human decency" but only as a matter of principle and noble aspirations.

There's no basic human decency in colonization and imperialism and racism. I resent the Brits and Americans and other western citizens caring more about propriety and social misconduct and the social system they worship than they care about the rights and abuses of people of color across the globe.

It's just the will smith Oscar slap again on a grander scale. You care about the propriety and the disrespect because it fundamentally shakes you, when someone acts against your silly little social rules but don't care about the systematic violence perpetuated by your general social rules.

You don't mind violence or disrespect when it happens to unknown people of color.

You don't mind violence or disrespect or dehumanization in economic systems and politics. The invisible violence that affects people's livelihoods.

I resent the moralizing and the dismissive, disdainful gaze of those who are pro cop, pro system, and pro colonialism.

Liberals, who believe they're progressive but are not radical enough to truly effect change or understand that violence can be necessary.

Violent words are hardly anything.

You live on stolen land, feed from the crops grown on bloody soil, and want to clutch your pearls over people making a mockery over the death of a woman who isn't here to see any of it and even if she was, well.

She was a privileged rich white woman who was never going to be hurt by mean internet comments.

Why do you feel the need to defend her?

You didn't know her personally, nor did you ever owe her your allegiance.

Exactly what is your purpose then?

It isn't basic human decency at all.

Basic human decency would be asking why so many countries would have such negative and hateful feelings for the crown.

It would be listening when the colonized speak with hatred and trying to sympathize rather than shutting them down with a "she was a PERSON."

she was a symbol and a figurehead of an archaic social system based on the hoarding of wealth and the divine right of a single family to rule.

She was the figurehead of a massive colonial empire whose policies hurt and still hurt people to this day.

You should be fucking ashamed, actually.

You fucking idiot.

Stop being such a spoilsport too.

You gonna cry when Bill Cosby dies too?

Gonna insist he's just a person?

We do not owe the wealthy our tears. We do not owe politicians our respect.

You should stop pretending to care about people being respectful of the dead and just be honest and say that you care more about propriety than real people.

#queen elizabeth

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sea-you-in-paradise · 1 year

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Hi can I please get an Erwin x secret wife reader? Just a lot of fluff and how the scouts finds out that their commander is a married man. Thank you

homie... this is the cutest ask ever oh my god i'm fucking giggling over this and i'm not even an erwin girly

summary: erwin smith x secret wife reader: meeting, married life, and the discovery word count: 1.449 setting: canonverse fem!reader warnings: season 2 & 3 spoilers

when erwin smith met you, not even his resolve to stay away from relationships could stop him from falling in love. and somewhat unfortunately, there was no stopping you from loving him back.

frankly, your relationship was the last thing erwin wanted. being a scout, the commander of the scouts nonetheless, meant that tomorrow was never promised. with the disproportionately slim chance of surviving his career until retirement, he had made a silent promise to stay away from love. of course, meeting you changed that in spite of his better judgement...

-it was shortly after erwin had been named the new commander of the scouts. after is appointment, he often went and got a beer at this small tavern in one of sina's outlier districts so he could try to organize his thoughts

-you were the one to approach him, asking if he was alright because he looked a little dejected. erwin, always hellbent on demonstrating his strength, overcompensated a little bit and exuded a little too much of his illusive confidence

-you laughed at him and told him that he acts like a politician

-it wasn't often that someone saw through him, he found it intriguing. you talked for awhile that nigh, expecting to go your separate ways, but you ran into him there a few more times, and when you did, you would sit together and talk. eventually, you organized some cafe dates on sunday mornings. you didn't actually know who he was until your fifth or sixth meeting, which was funny to you because he never thought to mention it, and funny to him because he thought you knew all along

-you made him realize that there was more to life than discovering the unknown- that there was a lot of value in what he already had. he made you think more about your existence in the walls. you challenged each other

-within a year of meeting, you were married. you decided that if you were determined to be in a relationship, it was best that you went all in since time might end up being short

-married life with erwin doesn't always feel like married life. there's a lot of being alone for both of you while he's away on missions or in other districts for planning and other administrative tasks

-he sends you letters if he's away for more than a week. they are not very emotional letters and they don't ever detail anything specific about people, just events. but he is sure to tell you about the things he thinks you would enjoy the most- like how he saw a sunset that reminded him of one you watched together early in your relationship

-he's the type to be like "i'm not a romantic, but.." and then write something really gushy lol

-when he gets home, he likes to bake those cookies that are shaped like flowers with jam in the middle. he has mastered his family recipe for them. he feels like it's a nice way to show you how much he still cares about you after being away from home for so long

-when you're together, he tries to be very present with you. he enjoys cooking meals together and playing card games

-his love language is acts of service so he really wants to make you feel at ease when he's home because he's sure it stresses you out a lot when he isn't. he ends up doing a lot around the house, even if nothing really needs to be done. like especially on longer stretches of being home, he would start home improvement projects if there was nothing to clean or help with. somehow, he always finishes them even if it's at the expense of a decent night's sleep

-he has a home office, but he does his best to only do work after you've gone to sleep/before you wake up if it's his day off (this man is always working :( even if he doesn't have a deadline)

-you don't usually go out on the town. it's exhausting travelling as much as he does, so he likes to feel like he has a real home base and spend a lot of time there

-definitely "lets" you win arguments, but he still thinks you're wrong lol

-he is a bath man. like he spends an unhealthy amount of time in the tub if he has the time for it. he likes salts that help with soreness and he likes when you take them together so you can just talk about your day

-if you were part of something like a book club/knitting group/something where other women get together and do granny activities, erwin loves when you host. he is making cocktails/tea and hanging out with you all to get the latest gossip. he doesn't like to interact with too many of his coworkers bc he doesn't want to get attached lmao, but he loves knowing the neighborhood tea

-"ingrid, waiting for him to come to his senses is a waste of your time. you deserve someone who respects you." (needless to say, everyone loves him.)

-because of stuff like this, you aren't exactly secretly married. like your family and friends all know that you are married to the scouts' commander, they just know better than to run their mouth about it. erwin just never talks about his personal life at work

-his section commanders all know, but they were all super shocked to find out. everyone would have been up late working on a plan or something and he finally tells them to go home. someone would have asked a last minute question and he's like, "tomorrow. i'm late for dinner." and hange is the only one bold enough to be like, "haha, you got a secret wife or something?" and he just raises a thick eyebrow like "my wife isn't a secret."

-everyone was shook and waited for him to leave to talk about it and try to figure out the lore

-levi found out later, awhile after he joined the scouts when he heard everyone gossiping about you two. he pretended he didn't care but the man was shocked

-you might meet a few section commanders/captains over the years by picking him up at work for a date or eating lunch with him in his office when he's in the capital, but the introduction is always brief and it's never long enough for you to get to know anyone

-any day that you plan to visit him at work, he calls miche into his office beforehand and tells him that he's not allowed to sniff you in the event that you meet

-when erwin loses his arm and levi finds out, he's obviously pissed that he couldn't have been there to help, but all he ends up saying at first is "sucks for the mrs."

-when erwin comes home for the first time after this, he almost feels embarrassed that he can't be doing things on his own, and terrible that he can't do things for you like usual. tbh, he'd ve kind of aloof at first bc mans is avoidant, so you'd have to show him that you're not throwing in the towel

-it's a massive moment of vulnerability for him when you help him out with things that used to be second nature, like buttoning his shirt and writing. however, he spends a lot of time at home while he's healing and although there are some moments of tension, you grow together a lot

-hange would offhandedly mention you at the beginning of the events of season 3, like half joking and half curious. "you think erwin's wife is gonna leave him? he lost an arm and now he's in prison. that's gotta test the ol' vows."

-levi would glare at them in utter disbelief like ?? "honestly, shitty glasses. where do you get the nerve?" and sasha and connie would overhear and look at each other and just go off the rails trying to piece it all together, like trying to figure out if they missed signs or smth

-levi squad uses this as a distraction from the horrors of humanity within the walls :D

-overall, erwin values you and your relationship above any other relationship he has. he wants to protect you from getting attached to his coworkers because it's bad enough that you fell in love in the first place. he considers your relationship the most selfish and self indulgent thing he's taken part in, but he can't bring himself to feel remorse because you're impossible not to love and he wants you waiting for him when he gets home

#erwin fluff #erwin x reader #erwin smith #erwin smith x reader #aot headcanon #erwin smith headcanons

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ellenembee · 2 years

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I agree with all the posts out there talking about the Persuasion "adaptation's" character assassination. From what we can see (though I fully admit trailers aren't always true to the movie), Anne is not the calm, reserved, rational, reliable, sensible, and above all self possessed woman of the books, but rather some kind of modern construct built from Austen's more popular women like Lizzie and Emma. (In reality, Anne, Elinor, and Fanny Price would be on a blanket sipping tea while Lizzie, Emma, Catherine, and Marianne were off vexing men and making trouble.)

One thing I haven't seen mentioned, though, is that from the context of the times, Anne was not just being swayed because she valued her family's continued support and Lady Russell's opinion, but because Lady Russell's concerns were real and frightening. Marrying Wentworth *before* he made his fortune was an *incredible* risk to her safety and wellbeing. Throughout the book, we see countless manifestations of "what if" scenarios:

Mr. Elliott as an example of how she likely would've been disowned by her family if she'd married Frederick anyway

Anne's old school friend Mrs. Smith as an example of her life if she'd married anyway, been disowned, and Frederick had died or become injured enough to not be able to properly support her

Benwick and Fanny Harville as an example of what might have happened if she'd kept the engagement but agreed not to marry him until he'd made enough to support them

Her sister Mary's comfortable life as an example of what she might have had if she'd said yes to Charles Musgrove.

Louisa Musgrove as an example of how Anne might have acted if she'd been less risk averse and less prudent in her youth.

You can argue the validity of Anne's situation compared to these manifestations (likely Lady Russell would have risked angering Sir Elliott and taken Anne in with the idea of an eventual reconciliation), but there are countless other examples throughout the book. They are meant to reinforce the point that Anne is reconciled to her own actions, much as she might regret them.

This is not a book where Anne blames herself or her family. She did the "right" thing by breaking it off with Frederick. She just now wishes with her whole being that she hadn't done the "right" thing.

"... but Anne, at seven-and-twenty, thought very differently from what she had been made to think at nineteen. She did not blame Lady Russell, she did not blame herself for having been guided by her ... She was persuaded that under every disadvantage of disapprobation at home, and every anxiety attending his profession, all their probable fears, delays, and disappointments, she should yet have been a happier woman in maintaining the engagement than she had been in the sacrifice of it."

And later, to Frederick:

"If I was wrong in yielding to persuasion once, remember that it was to persuasion exerted on the side of safety, not of risk."

In hindsight, she sees all the risks and all the examples of her possible life choices, and thinks now it would have been worth the pain and risk. To be disappointed by fate would have been far better than the constant estrangement from the man she has loved for eight years.

Anne sees all the possibilities of how her life might have played out in the people around her, and she accepts it.

And the best part is that Frederick acknowledges that Anne was right to be cautious.

"He had imagined himself indifferent, when he had only been angry, and he had been unjust to her merits, because he had been a sufferer from them ... He had learnt to distinguish between the steadiness of principle and the obstinacy of self-will, between the darings of heedlessness and the resolution of a collected mind ...

Fredrick knew he'd been resentful and proud. And he owns up to his mistake of thinking ill of her for so long. He admits he was his own worst enemy when it came to his happiness with Anne. And Anne reinforces this with her words to him near the end:

I have been thinking over the past ... and I must believe that I was right, much as I suffered from it, that I was perfectly right in being guided by [Lady Russell] ... Do not mistake me, however. I am not saying that she did not err in her advice. It was, perhaps, one of those cases in which advice is good or bad only as the event decides ...

Anne is calm. She follows her conscience. She is sensible and, yes, resolute when she needs to be. She's amazing as she is and doesn't need to be made into something she's not.

She is appealing because of who she is, and it's also why she's my favorite Austen woman. To divorce Anne of these things is to create a new character and inherently alter the story.

So call it something else. Say it's "inspired by" Persuasion if you want. But don't pretend that you can alter the main character's very personality and still call it Persuasion.

#persuasion #jane austen #i haven't gone this deep into literary critique since my Brit lit days #but Anne deserves better #and she also deserves to be understood in the context of her times #she did what she thought was right #she regretted it #but she never blamed herself or her family #it simply was what it was #time for another read through of the book i guess #not my anne #okay i might be done now #but probably not lbr #still salty #mine

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yourlocaltreesimp · 2 months

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All Chained Up

All chained up masterlist

last part ੈ✩‧₊˚ next part

Chapter 5: Stunted in sentience

The foolish nature of humanity lies within itself. Only once one has gained sentience can they fully gauge the factor at which they are alive. With such developments is the ability to feel beyond what has been coded into you. A creator's hand can mould a picture out of pigment and canvas— can mould you a form from nothing more than the earth, but it is sentience which gives the form meaning. It is sentience that attaches value to nothingness, that makes you mourn when it’s ripped away. It is sentience that betrays primiality. It is sentience —the very thing we have come to define ourselves with— that breaks you.

Days passed by with the similar mundane of your original life. You consider that it is fate echoing to you, the cage begging for something to trap. The Veteran still stands firm that everything is fine and like the world is normal. Like you’re not even there. The group has gotten more lax the longer you linger— ceasing the pass of distrustful stares in exchange for an uneasy silence. But still, you find your footing. You learned when to push yourself forward and pull back. You leaned when and who to bargain with and when you were better set focusing on that pull towards stagnation. With your progress you’d only been given easy tasks, safe tasks, with which you were usually monitored. You could find and forage food for dinner with Hyrule and Wild, gather kindling or logs for a fire (not that you were allowed to split them, that was down to Warriors or Twilight) or your personal favourite task of keeping the sailor entertained. While the world you hailed from was by no means intriguing to you, it proved to be incredibly so to the others. You’d forgotten how foreign your surroundings were to you also meant how foreign you were to them. It was there in that odd sense off middle ground, no man’s land… or perhaps every man’s land, you found a bit of adoration within the wonder-filled eyes of the young hero as you spun your tall tales. And with it came some small sense of acceptance into the group, as they find themselves getting caught tangled while you strung together story after story. You saw why it united them after they all began to open up, slowly at first. Wind exchanged stories of Outset, his home and his family. With every anecdote from your life was one from him. Surprisingly to you, it was Rulie who came next. He picked his words haphazardly as he spoke of his own home in a daze. His eyes were glassy and he spoke with a half smile, regret biting at his words. Clearly in your mind’s eye could you see his life of running through fields and meadows, living his life before fate came crashing in on him. Many of the others then followed suit, the Champion and his fight to tame the divine beasts, the Captain and his unfortunate situation pertaining to his love life, the Smith and why you presume he’s so short and Sky, who told a tale of a land among the skies and Hylia herself. All who you’ve heard from speak of her. Her gifts— her blessings. Her existence. Her existence in such surety, a word you’ve never known to associate the divine with. Through what you can only trust is true, you learn of gods and their battles. Their war zone among the mortals, fought by iterations of the same. Two gods and one mortal man set to stand between them… In the end, while you get no story out of Time, Twilight or Legend, you’re willing to lay that to rest. For now the knowledge you hold —while carefully curated and heavily gilt— is enough to fill mundane day after day of walking and chore.

After gathering food for dinner and split logs for a fire, you finally let yourself settle. You let yourself sink into your joints and let the world go quiet once more. There was still idle chatter and the quiet call of nature through the shaking of leaves and cawing of birds, but you found yourself within absence. No thoughts your brain sought to process, no motion you sought to make. Instead, you let yourself simply exist for one given moment. A capture in time before-

“Oh c’mon you could at least eat before you nod off.” Wind snickered, plopping himself right down next to you. “You’re Worse than Sky”

“Hey!” He sat up from the stump he was leaning on as he ‘rested his eyes’

“What, he’s not wrong,” Legend added before he could forget to hold his tongue. He’s been getting worse at ignoring you, occasionally passing snide comments in jest before realising who he was sharing his company with. He dropped the blades of grass he was braiding, flinching back from the cold earth as if it burned him.

Dinner would’ve been painfully quiet if it weren’t for Wind's rambles about some massive lava crab he fought during his journey. He might not have been able to pick up tone in nearly any capacity, but who were you to rain on his parade? When was the last time he had adults or mentors he looked up to take him seriously? You’re not sure the longer you think. And think is exactly what you do, all the way until the sun had led the sky and night was beset across the land. The small hero had already curled up with his head resting on your thigh by the time you snapped out of your thoughts. He’d seemed to be well out, not responding as you moved him so you too could lay down. The fire had started to dwindle without it being fed, and yet its characteristic warm glow was still cast upon the camp. It was then you noticed it. The moon. Crimson blood cast over the surface of the moon, eerily reminiscent of the same night you arrived. You lay awake for a long while after, never casting your eyes upon the carmine glow as much as you can help it to. You repeat a mantra of stories within your mind to push its influence out. You hear small voices begging for your attention clawing at your mind and no longer do you have the energy within you to shove them out. Your mind is not your own, cradled by tiny hands that sift through you. The coddle and coo as you’re split at the seams of your mind.

The nothingness fills you.

The sentience swells and crashes like an uneasy tide.

It draws back.

You are whole.

#linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #link x reader #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x you #x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere link x reader #all chained up #lmao #sorry this took so long #i’m gonna go take an 100 year nap

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pecanwriter · 3 months

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Not Big Enough (WG story)

Themes: fantasy-setting, body worship, fat-centric society

Words: 3053

Part: 1/1

Dainon was freezing to death. He managed to survive another night, huddled behind a smithy, where the furnace's heat radiated through walls, making even the nasty winter in Grothol survivable. His exhaustion was bone-deep. Soul-deep, even. So when he managed to sneak up behind the smithy without anyone noticing, he let himself fall into a deep sleep like a fool. Had he gotten up early, before the smiths started their day, he could squeeze in another few nights in this new hiding spot. But he didn’t get up, he didn’t even try, huddled up next to the warm wall and feeling like a baby in his mother’s womb, he slept on soundly until the very moment strong, calloused hands grabbed him by the rags he called clothes and kicked him out into the main street, where mud was ice.

He fell into a puddle, the water so unbelievably cold at first he thought it was boiling. Dainon scrambled back to his feet, already shivering. A gust of wind swept through the street, penetrating his rags completely. His trousers were more holes than they were trousers and the patchy shirt was missing one sleeve. Despite his meagre stature, the coat he was wearing was way too small for him, he suspected it might have been made for a youth. Stretching the too-small garment over himself was better than nothing in the dreadful cold, but he could feel the seams coming apart more and more every day, wind and chilled air seeping in and assaulting his malnourished body.

Dainon was the youngest son of a relatively wealthy merchant from a port town in the south of Grothol. His father was a strict and unyielding man. To his customers, to his workers, and to his children. Dainon’s sister left the house young, got married and had children of her own. His brother joined the army and that was the last time anyone saw him. And so his father’s ambitions about keeping the business in the family came full force down on Dainon. It wasn’t that he necessarily hated commerce, he would just much rather do anything else. When he suggested to his father that maybe he could get an apprenticeship as a kitchen boy to become a cook for a wealthy lord, his father beat the idea of out his head so forcefully that Dainon never dared to voice his opinions again.

When Dainon turned eighteen, his father decided he was ready to prove himself. He gave Dainon a horse and a cart of goods and sent him on his way to the Gothol’s lavish capital city. “Bring back three times the value of the goods, or don’t come back at all,” his father told him, and Dainon knew without a shadow of a doubt he meant it.

He made it to the capital, he even managed to make a few transactions that would make his father’s scorn soften. But then, just as he was warming up to his role, Dainon was robbed. They took everything; the goods, the card, the horse, even his shoes.

There was nothing left for him to sell to gain passage back home, but even if he did, he couldn’t go back. Through spring, summer and autumn he managed to scrape by somehow. There was a lot of commerce everywhere and labour workers who would slave away all day for a piece of bread and a tanker of piss-poor beer were always needed.

But then came the winter.

Dainon, dragging his feet, so cold he could barely walk, stumbled into one of the smaller streets where shameful business was conducted. There was a high chance one would get robbed, but he had nothing to be robbed of, and at least they wouldn’t shoo him away like the smiths. Unable to walk any further, so sick and cold he didn’t even know where the icy mud ended and he began, Dainon squeezed himself between two barrels and the side of a gambling house and waited. For death or for an opportunity to rob some drunk fool. Whichever came first.

Doors opened on the opposite side of the street and a group of people stumbled out in a cloud of perfume, smoke and ruckus laughter.

Dainon’s exhausted, nearly delirious brain made it seem as if the warm light pouring out of the door was pure gold. He stared at the people coming out.

It was a whore house and a good one from what he heard. The people that emerged appeared to be two whores sending their client on his way. The whores were barely wearing any clothes, seemingly unbothered by the cold. As if enchanted, Dainon stared at the whores. He stared at their plump bodies, round, blushy faces, their smiles and thick, lustrous hair. One was a woman, and one was a man, but he had tits almost as big as she did, resting on top of a big, fleshy belly swaying in front of him proudly. Their thighs jiggled and rubbed against each other as they walked, pushing the drunk client along the street to the stables where his horse presumably waited.

Dainon’s stomach was so empty he didn’t even remember how food tasted or how it was not to be hungry all the time. Even when he was asleep, he was still completely aware of the fact he was starving. The whores were coming back and Dainon looked at their enormous backsides jiggling, at their side rolls, at their arms so plump and soft their elbows were only dimples. He couldn’t imagine how amazingly rich and filling their meals had to be for them to be so big. Another wave of nauseating hunger and paralyzing cold rattled him so hard he had to close his eyes. When he opened them again the golden light of the brothel was no longer spilling into the street and the whores were gone. Dainon wept, his tears scorching hot on his freezing face.

The door opened again and the beautiful light spilt out. Another boy was escorting his client to the exit. He was even bigger than the first two; his tits spilling to the sides of his enormous belly and his thighs so thick and fleshy he waddled as he took the few steps to see the client out.

Dainon stared as the whore waddled back inside and he knew that if he couldn’t see that beautiful overfed body again he would simply die.

This really was a good brothel, he realised. To have so many well-fed whores? In Gothol fatness was the sign of good fortune and prosperity. The King was expected to go to war, so he was usually lean or muscular, but it was traditional for the King’s consort, be it a woman or a man, to be as fat as possible. The fatter the consort, the more prosperous Gorthol was. Two hundred years ago, there was a plague that nearly threatened to undo the whole country. At that time, the King’s consort was so thin he didn’t even have a belly. Nearly all portraits of him have been destroyed for fear of casting bad fortune over the land again. The upper classes followed this trend diligently, every Lord and Lady stuffed themselves to grow bigger and fatter than their rivals in court. Amongst the lower classes and peasants, it was very uncommon to see someone appropriately fleshy; they couldn’t afford it. The only truly fat, well-fed peasants were whores. The customers spent nearly as much on the services as they spent on the food they bought to keep their whore nice and plump. With a fat, well-fed whore every simple man could feel like a King for a day.

Driven by a desperate need to survive and with the memory of that golden light filling his heart, Dainon stumbled to the brothel doors.

A young, slim whore opened the door. His hair was long and orange like the sunset, he cocked a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“Go away!” He barked “There’s nothing here for the kinds of you!”

“No, please!” Dainon rasped, his voice scratchy “I want to work. Please, I will do anything. Please.”

“Go away…” The man started saying again, but a hand with multiple golden rings on each finger ceased his arm and pulled him inside.

“Move away, Robin, don’t you have something to do?” A woman who was past being middle-aged, but diligently tried to keep up the appearance stood in the door. The rest of her was as richly adorned as her fingers, gold was hanging off her every body part and she seemed to float in a cloud of pipe smoke and perfume. She looked at Dainon with a shrewd, keen eye of a Madam.

“I want to work, please.” He repeated.

She looked him over, grabbed his chin, looked at his face from every angle, and then grabbed his arm, examining his skin, its deep umber colour stood out even more against her pinkish fingers.

“We have enough skinny boys.” She said with finality.

“I don’t have to be one of the skinny boys!” He blurted out, almost desperately. His merchant senses smelled an opportunity and he grabbed it immediately “You don’t have to pay me! I will work just for food until I’m big enough for you to start making good money on me.”

She gave him a steady look and Dainon forced himself to not break the eye contact. Her poker face was good, but he could see the change taking place deep inside her mind. The ring-clad hand wrapped around his arm and he was dragged inside, into the golden light.

“Robin, Cuckoo, wash him and help him get ready to work.” She pushed him towards a pair of whores, the red-haired one from before and another skinny one with ashen blonde hair and pale eyes. “From now on,” She said, giving him one last measuring look “Your name is Starling.”

And Starling let the young whores lead him deep inside the golden light and warmth of the warehouse. The smell and heat filled him so completely that he felt born anew.

General Forthros jumped off his horse and let out a juicy curse as his boot landed perfectly in a pool of mud.

“Hello, good sir, may I welcome you…” He tossed the reigns to the stable master along with a purse of silver coins. He was in no mood for talk. It’s been way too long and he was prickly with need. It crawled under his skin like slow-acting poison.

This brothel was way outside of the upper district, but Forthros heard stories. He heard they had whores here like nobody dreamed of; so soft and overfed, with their enormous rumps jiggling, their soft tits resting on top of round bellies, their faces with double chins and round rosy cheeks…

Just thinking about it made his cock stir, but he had to keep himself in check. The last brothel he heard similar stories about turned out to be ludicrously expensive and the young man they gave him didn’t even waddle.

None of them were big enough. Just not big enough.

He dreamed of flesh so soft and filled with fat he could sleep on it as on a pillow after he’d fucked its owner into a whimpering, needy mess. He wanted a whore who would laugh at the feast he brought with him and demanded more food. He needed a whore so fat two others would have to be called to help him stand up.

Forthros walked across the muddy street and opened the door, stepping out of the grey, dirty world and into a land of gold, potency and sweet smells.

“Welcome!” A woman appeared as if out of nowhere, her hands and wrist so completely covered by gold jewellery that her skin was visible only from elbows up. “We haven’t seen you before in my fantastic establishment, Lord.” She said, not able to keep the glint of greed out of her eyes as she eyed his expensive clothes and the massive basket filled to the brim with lavish, expensive foods only made in the upper city. “How can I serve you? I have everything you could wish for, every girl and every boy the absolute best quality!”

He gave her an unimpressed look. She rubbed her hands, visibly slightly worried, but not dropping her selling pitch. She pressed on:

“Will it be a girl or a boy you’d be wanting, my Lord?”

“I want a boy. The biggest one you have.” He said. “Money is no object.”

Her eyes were ablaze with opportunity.

“Of course, my Lord!” She bowed deeply. “Boy, fetch Swan.” She ordered the scrawny servant. He took off down the corridor.

Swan was appropriately named; he was tall and pale, with a long neck and rosy lips. He had a soft chest and a flabby belly, he was smiling coquettishly. Forthros stopped him with a hand.

“Not big enough.” He said.

The Madam shooed Swan away and he retreated with a pout.

“Bring me Blue Jay, boy!” She ordered the servant.

Blue Jay was likewise appropriately named; he had some Djinn blood in him which was evident by his bright blue skin and navy blue hair woven into two thick braids. He sauntered over, shaking his big, round gut and plushy thighs. Forthros was intrigued but he was just…

“Not big enough.” He repeated and the Madam tsked but shooed the Djinn’s bastard away.

“Bring Sparrow, be quick about it!” She snapped and the servant ran.

Sparrow was brown-skinned and brown-eyed. His tits were big and soft, falling on top of a prominent, soft belly that swayed in front of him as he walked. His legs were thick and swollen, and Forthros' dick hardened as he saw him waddle up. This one was beautiful, but…

“Not. Big. Enough.” He said, looking the Madam right in the eyes.

A sly, appreciative smile spread across her face. She slapped Sparrow’s jiggly ass, sending him away.

“I see you are a connoisseur.” She said, bowing in acknowledgement. “Follow me.”

He followed. They passed an open room full of whores killing time, waiting for clients. He spotted Sparrow sprawled on a mountain of pillows, idly popping sugar-coated grapes into his mouth. Forthros’ cock stirred again. If the Madam’s most priced possession didn’t prove to be satisfactory, he’d come back for Sparrow.

The madam stopped in front of a door and opened it with a flourish.

“This,” she said theatrically “is Starling. But he’s not cheap.”

Forthros had to rest a hand against the door to keep himself upright, almost dropping the feast in the basket to the floor. He put it down with reverence at his feet and fished a purse out from his inside pocket, tossing it blindly at the Madam, still unable to look away from the sight before him. There was more coin in the purse that she probably made off all her whores in a day and they both knew it.

“Enjoy, Lord.” She bowed deeply and closed the door behind herself.

The man on the bed, Starling, was a vision out of a dream. No, he was more beautiful than any dream Forthros ever had.

He had dark umber skin that seemed covered with scented oils and perfumes that floated around the room. His dark hair was curled and adorned with gold, and two enormous emeralds hung on his ears. He was so big his hips spanned almost the entire width of the bed. Forthros took in the beautiful flesh, overstuffed to the brim with fat and folding on itself in fascinating, enchanting ways. Starling’s legs were shapeless as if formed of hefty sacks of jiggly fat folding in on themselves with the swollen feet at the end that Forthros doubted touched the floor often. The beautiful legs were spread wide to accommodate the gargantuan mass of Starling’s belly, that pooled in front of him like a see of soft flesh. Forthros couldn’t see a belly button but he guessed it was buried deep underneath fat where the upper and lower fat fold of Starling’s belly met. His breasts were blubbery and saggy, pushed to the sides by the improbable accumulation of soft flesh on Starling’s midriff. The nipples were dark and stretched and Forthros could feel his entire body tingling. Starling’s robust arms rested at almost acute angles to his body, unable to land any lower for the numerous chunky fat folds pushing outwards at his sides. His shoulders and chest were so thoroughly encased in fat he almost had no neck. His face was round, with incredible, fleshy cheeks and multiple chins.

This was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man Forthros had ever seen, but what struck him most, was the man’s face. He was beautiful, of course, with a slightly hunched nose and wide-set dark eyes. But that wasn’t what it was, still. The striking thing was the expression on that angelic face. His plump lips were stretched into a smirk that seemed to hold all the secrets of the world in it and the dark eyes that stared at Forthros from underneath dark, heavy lashes were sharp like a fox’s. Quick wits and shrewdness were immediately apparent in that gaze. That, and immense satisfaction. Just his face alone seemed to be saying “I am everything you ever wanted and I know it.”

The biggest whore he had before this, many years ago, was somewhere between Sparrow’s and Starling’s size, he was beautiful but the food had dulled his mind. His eyes were always glazed over, sleepy, almost unresponsive; he saw this happen to some people when the food was too much for their bodies to handle and they seemed almost dim-witted. Although that man was beautiful, Forthros couldn’t bring himself to fuck him, he didn’t want to fuck someone who barely knew what was happening.

But Starling… Starling was perfect.

Forthros swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, his cock almost painfully hard.

“I’ve brought you a feast, beautiful.” He said, hauling the enormous basket overflowing with the greatest delicacies Grothol had to offer to the bed. “I hope such a feast is to your liking?”

Starling looked at the basket and then, looking straight into Forthros’ eyes with an almost devilish grin he said:

“Not big enough.”

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 4 months

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Thoughts on The Crown, Season 6 Part 2

If you watch it for just sheer entertainment value, it's not too bad.

If you watch it for the biography, it fails. A lot of mistakes that could have been avoided with some simple fact-checking.

A quick recap--

Episode 5: William blames Charles for Diana's death, Phlip teaches William about Charles and reflects on his own relationship with Charles as Season 1 footage of Matt Smith and toddler Charles plays. The family deals with William's heartthrob status and all the girls that want to marry him.

Episode 6: Tony Blair wants to modernize the monarchy, charms the US, annoys The Queen, and gets served humble pie.

Episode 7: Carole schemes. William goes on a gap year, moves to Scotland, ogles a hot girl called 'Beautiful Kate' on campus, and gets his ass handed to him after a very stupid comment by girlfriend Lola and study buddy Kate. William wants to drop out of St. Andrews but Harry talks him out of it and Kate makes the first move. (This one is full of errors that will make you angry.)

Episode 8: Margaret gets sick amid flashbacks to Elizabeth and Margaret celebrating V-E Day. 9/11 happens and Porchey dies, The Queen is confronted with mortality, and eventually, Margaret dies.

Episode 9: Mohammed Al Fayed accuses the Royal Family of killing Diana and Dodi, the inquest, Kate has a fashion show and makes the second move, the Queen Mother dies just as William goes in for his first kiss with Kate (how rude!), The Queen's Golden Jubilee, and William meets the Middleton family.

Episode 10: Charles and Camilla get married, The Queen and Philip plan their funerals, William and Harry go to a costume party, Olivia Colman and Claire Foy return as Elizabeth's conscience while she ponders abdication. It ends with Imelda's Elizabeth walking into the light after viewing her coffin as The Queen's PIper plays Sleep Dearie Sleep.

My thoughts:

The consolation prize for a not-so-good season is that Harry is a totally unlikeable unsympathetic douchebag in his scenes.

I do wish they brought Tobias Menzies and Matt Smith back for Philip.

They were *really* grasping at straws for how William and Kate's friendship / early relationship went.

I wonder how much needed to be rewritten after The Queen died (they were in the middle of filming Season 6 when she passed). If she was still alive now, this ending seems like it would be pretty disrespectful.

Michael Sheen is the only person I can see playing Tony Blair.

Claire Foy is the best Elizabeth. They should've just made this six seasons of Elizabeth's early reign.

#the crown #thoughts

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visit-new-york · 3 months

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Empire State Building Location: New York City, New York, United States 20 W 34th St., New York, NY 10001

What was the Empire State Building built for? The Empire State Building was officially constructed to serve as a hub for corporate business offices. Unofficially, it was also designed with the intention of claiming the title of the world's tallest building. Constructed in 1931, it faced competition from other iconic New York City skyscrapers of the time, including the Bank of Manhattan Building and the Chrysler Building.

Where is the Empire State Building located? Situated in Midtown Manhattan, New York City, the Empire State Building stands proudly on Fifth Avenue at 34th Street. Prior to its construction, this location was occupied by the original Waldorf Astoria Hotel on Fifth Avenue.

How did the Empire State Building get its name? The Empire State Building earned its name from a colloquial term for the state of New York. Although the exact origin of the nickname "Empire State" is uncertain, one of its earliest documented references dates back to a letter written by George Washington in 1785. In the letter, he commends New York's resilience during the American Revolution and designates it as "the Seat of the Empire."

Why do the Empire State Building lights change? The Empire State Building's lighting system undergoes color changes to commemorate major holidays and celebrations throughout the year. This tradition, initiated in 1976 with the installation of the building's first lighting system, has continued with the introduction of a new LED lighting system in 2012. This technological upgrade allows the skyscraper to showcase a myriad of colors, enhancing its visual impact.

The Empire State Building, a towering 102-story steel-framed skyscraper, was completed in New York City in 1931, reigning as the world's tallest building until 1971. Situated in Midtown Manhattan on Fifth Avenue at 34th Street, it stands as an enduring symbol and exemplar of Modernist Art Deco design, holding a prominent place among the most iconic structures in the United States.

During its construction, an intense rivalry unfolded for the coveted title of the world's tallest building. The Chrysler Building briefly secured this distinction in 1929, only to be surpassed by the Empire State Building in 1931, reaching a height of 1,250 feet (381 meters), accentuated by its distinctive spire initially intended as a mooring station for airships. In 1950, a 222-foot (68-meter) antenna was added, elevating the building's total height to 1,472 feet (449 meters). However, a subsequent replacement of the antenna in 1985 resulted in a reduction to 1,454 feet (443 meters). Meanwhile, One World Trade Center, inaugurated in 1972, had claimed the title of the world's tallest building.

The driving forces behind the Empire State Building's construction were John J. Raskob and Al Smith. Raskob, a self-made business magnate and former chairman of the General Motors Corporation finance committee, formed an unlikely partnership with Smith, a former Democratic governor of New York. Despite their contrasting backgrounds, their enduring friendship likely stemmed from shared experiences as children of struggling immigrant Roman Catholic families. Before embarking on the Empire State Building project in 1929, Smith enlisted Raskob as chairman for the Democratic National Committee and as campaign manager for his unsuccessful 1928 presidential bid against Herbert Hoover. This defeat underscored the public's reluctance to jeopardize the economic prosperity of the 1920s by electing a Democrat and signaled an unwillingness to choose a Roman Catholic candidate who might challenge prevailing Protestant values.

After losing the 1928 election and relinquishing his governorship to pursue the presidency, Smith found himself unemployed. Whether the initial idea to construct a skyscraper on the former site of the original Waldorf Astoria Hotel originated from Raskob or Smith remains uncertain. However, they mutually agreed that it would be a sensible and attention-grabbing joint venture at the midpoint of their lives. Raskob, a crucial financier responsible for securing other investors, and Smith, a personable public figure, assumed the role of heading the project. The Empire State Building Corporation was established, and Smith, as its president, unveiled plans for the groundbreaking building on August 29, 1929, designed by Shreve, Lamb & Harmon Associates to exceed 100 stories.

Construction commenced 200 days later on March 17, 1930, amid the backdrop of the stock market crash in October 1929, marking the onset of the Great Depression. Despite these challenges, construction persevered, providing essential employment opportunities in New York City. The formal opening of the Empire State Building took place on May 1, 1931, astonishingly concluding in just 410 days. Despite the building's extensive publicity, the concurrent Great Depression significantly impacted its inauguration; much of the office space remained unoccupied, leading to the nickname "The Empty State Building." It took nearly two decades for the structure to become financially viable.

Despite its gradual start and eventual loss of the world record it aimed to achieve, the Empire State Building has evolved into a lasting symbol of New York City for both its residents and the world. Observatories are situated on the 86th and 102nd floors, with a small viewing platform sometimes referred to as the 103rd floor. These observatories attract millions of visitors annually. Since 1994, a yearly contest has granted couples the chance to win an exclusive wedding ceremony on Valentine's Day at the 86th-floor observatory.

The Empire State Building, prominently featured in some of the most romantic films of the 20th century, may have been the catalyst for the inception of the contest. Notably showcased in Love Affair (1939) and its later remake An Affair to Remember (1957), these films immortalize star-crossed lovers making plans to reunite at the summit of the Empire State Building after a prolonged separation. Sleepless in Seattle (1993), a beloved romantic comedy, directly references An Affair to Remember, with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks's characters finally meeting on the observatory deck of the Empire State Building. Beyond its romantic associations, the iconic skyscraper has made notable appearances across various cultural mediums, notably in the 1933 film King Kong, shortly after its inauguration. An exhibit within the Empire State Building pays tribute to its widespread influence in popular culture, featuring a montage of its appearances in films, video games, comics, and more.

Additionally, the Empire State Building has earned acclaim for its commitment to green architecture initiatives. In 2020, the skyscraper completed a decade-long retrofitting project that significantly reduced its energy consumption, slashed emissions by approximately 40 percent, and enhanced overall efficiency.

#Empire State Building #New York City #new york #newyork #New-York #nyc NY #Manhattan #urban #city #USA #United States #buildings #travel #journey #outdoors #street #architecture #visit-new-york.tumblr.com

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