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haha!  don’t believe it, here’s the proof!

https://www.forgeonline.org/blog/2019/3/8/what-about-romans-124-27

happy pride month!

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i’ve been doing my homework on how to break into a writing career and honestly. there’s a Lot that i didn’t know about thats critical to a writing career in this day and age, and on the one hand, its understandable because we’re experiencing a massive cultural shift, but on the other hand, writers who do not have formal training in school or don’t have the connections to learn more via social osmosis end up extremely out of loop and working at a disadvantage. 

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She Came Prepared The Daily Politics presenter was chatting to Charlotte and Henrietta about banning unhealthy food in schools.

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Sing me the song of your people SOUP! meow! Sing me the song of your friends SOUP! meow! Sing me a song for the good times SOUP! meow! Sing me a song, a song. HEY SOUP! meeeeoooow!

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Heat index was 110 degrees so we offered him a cold drink. He went for a full body soak instead

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Roxanne: I’m just saying, challenging Wayne to a wrestling match doesn’t seem like the best idea. 

Megamind: I am here for a good time, not for a long time. 

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Roxanne: Megs, you need to stop yelling ‘Goodnight bitch’ at Wayne before you go to bed. 

Megamind: Whose Wayne? 

Roxanne: Don’t play dumb with me, he’s the only super hero here! 

Megamind: Oh that bitch!

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Chapter 2 is out!

Megamind Modern Cowboy AU (Part 2)

Yah boi dumb European is back - I had to do quite a bit of research for this (and upcoming) chapters but hey, it was worth it. I hope you enjoy.

————-

Growing up, Lee made a very good cowboy. He could saddle a horse and ride it at fast speeds without worrying about his balance, and he was darn good at lassoing cattle. The only downside, his grandpa had said, was that he couldn’t put on a hat - because his head was far too large. Rodney made jokes about this sometimes, saying that if he could find a hat big enough for its head, the hat would probably be the size of the ranch itself. At least this time, Lee knew the jokes were all in good fun.

All of his excitable energy went into his work. He would be up in the morning, cleaning out the horse stables, and helping tend to the land in the heat of the afternoon. Sometimes he would be delegated the task of fixing the truck or re-shoeing the horses. It was funny, considering he did not consider himself much of a farrier, but he was quite handy when it came to tinkering and repairing things. He also loved the horses and went out of his way to sneak them a few apple slices after herding the cattle for long periods of time.

Although he didn’t wear a hat, Lee most certainly had a large collection of kerchiefs that he wore on a daily basis. If he couldn’t have the hat, he might as well have the rest of the gear to make up for it. On some days, if there was little to no clouds, his skin matched the tone of the clear blue sky, and it seemed in a way, fitting. Years of hard work and effort had made his muscles incredibly toned, though he still had a short and rather skinny frame. He had begun to grow facial hair and often trimmed it so it looked like a rough, but smart stubble. Because the ranch was in such a secluded area, (it was a very small town), all the locals knew him, and never really did a double-take when he came in to have dinner or a drink with his family.

Lee, although very skilled at many traits, had yet to master cooking. Sometimes he’d leave rice in the pan for too long so it stuck to the bottom, or accidentally burning the meat. Usually, Rodney or Minion took over making things like grillades. Baking, however, was his strong suit. From a child to adolescence, he had helped his grandma make an assortment of treats. From pies, pecan to blueberry, cakes, biscuits. The fact that he had an incredibly sweet tooth helped. His dad often complained of him not knowing how to cook ‘proper’ food, but he had Minion, and being able to make something was better than being able to make nothing, in his opinion.

Now, he was an adult and was working every day except Sunday along with his family members to run the ranch. It was incredibly fun and often left you tired enough to get a decent night’s sleep - which is something he struggled to do when he wasn’t tired enough.

Despite how content Lee was at the ranch, he still couldn’t shake off those horrible feelings years later. No matter how distracted he was while hammering hot metal into horseshoes, fixing saddles or trucks, a small, irritating voice kept muttering about his ‘destiny’ and how that should have been his priority. Forget those people, what about the two that saved your life? What did they want from you? Accusations and questions and doubt swirled up inside of him and made him sick to his stomach. Was he really going to go and do something as petty as that? It was so many years ago. What would his family think of him? He was aware that Rodney had been in hot water with the law before, but it was nothing compared to this.

His passions and the things that made him happy were being discarded in favor of something far more sinister, which made him feel anxious, given that he really wasn’t like that. Still, he had an awful lot of pent up rage towards those people that he sometimes wished he could act upon. “They started it, after all.” He’d tell himself, “You need to show them that they should have regretted what they said to you.”

It was dumb, but Lee feared that this would get the better of him. It began to circle him more frequently. Cleaning out the stables? Revenge. Repairing equipment? Revenge. Horse riding for fun? Revenge. Whenever he’d try and convince himself it was unnecessary and petty, and that he could have a happier life where he was without getting into trouble with the law, these thoughts dismissed whatever argument he came up with and pushed him to follow his ‘destiny.’ After all, you don’t have a say in what your destiny is, you just have to do it.

His family members had begun to take notice, and his Dad and Uncle Shawn began to grow weary of how familiar his attitude was now to how it had been back in his school days. Lee slowly began to stop smiling so often, or he became so engrossed in his work that he’d drown out anything else, even those who came in for a bit of small talk. Despite focusing so much of his energy on his work, he started losing sleep, his eyes always looked foggy and sullen in the morning, and exhausted at night. He began scribbling ideas for objects of mayhem rather than contraptions of convenience, and sure enough, his sleep schedule quickly spiraled out of control.

Rodney was the first to speak up, even though he was one of the last to be worried. He figured that something had happened and that Lee was just grieving, or bearing the brunt of getting over it. Once a week had passed, he felt that something was wrong.

“Hey cuz, you haven’t been yurself lately, fancy talkin ‘bout it?”

For the first time that week, Lee looked at someone dead in the eyes. He looked tired and incredibly cold. The worry must have shown on Rodney’s face, because he plastered on a bitter smile over his depressed expression, and began to chuckle. Chuckling probably wasn’t the best way to describe it though, as he started to shake, and streams of tears began to flow down his cheeks. His face morphed into one that was deeply angry and broken, and Rodney pulled him into an awkward hug, waiting for him to calm down. Instead, he started hyperventilating and kept choking on his own tears until his exhaustion got the better of him and he passed out. Calling Uncle Boe, they both carried him to his room, and placed him in his bed, leaving a glass of water on the nightstand for when he woke up.

That morning, Lee awoke to everything feeling fuzzy, as the objects in his room that he tried to focus on began to dance in circles around his head. He felt ill, yet he felt nothing. He trudged over to the tank in the corner of his room and placed Minion in his ball. Then, he pulled out a heavy case from beneath his bed and started to stuff his clothes, his books, his… plans. He then proceeded to check the time. It was 4 AM, and nobody would be awake for at least another hour unless he woke somebody up. He used this time to have a shower and get dressed, as well as have breakfast, before shoving the case in the back of one of the trucks outside.

By then, the rest of his family had stirred and were already in the kitchen. He came in Minion’s ball under his arm and announced that he had to leave for something important. He never specified what, as he was sure that if he did they would try to talk him out of it. His family looked concerned, sad, that he was leaving. They couldn’t be sad though, as he knew that deep down, they probably didn’t care. As much as he loved the ranch, his dismal destiny called. So, without a (visible) trace of doubt, he clambered into the van, started the vehicle and began to drive toward Metro City, Michigan.

He tried so very hard, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking back that morning.

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reblog this is if you know an amazing trans guy

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Me, trying to find ways to connect my favorite song’s lyrics to whatever characters I’m currently obsessed with:

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@all-these-trees-stealing-mah-o2 @elf-kid2 aaaaaaaaAAAA! Thank you so much!

Megamind Modern Cowboy AU (Part 1)

@all-these-trees-stealing-mah-o2 cheers for the motivation I did the thing:

NOTE: It was heavily inspired off of a post by the aforementioned person and in the film, it sounds like Megamind is called “Lee”, so I used it as his name. I also found out cowboys still exist in America so there’s that too.

——–

Usually, it was said that the city was more predictable than the country.

So when Warden John Taylor heard a loud crash coming from the prison courtyard one Christmas morning, he was perplexed. Three prisoners huddled around the foreign object, gawking at whatever was inside.

He expected it to be a bomb, or some failed attempt to smuggle contraband into the prison by some gang member who still had contacts on the outside. Most unexpectedly, though, it turned out to be a rather frightened, and equally confused baby. The shock made him see past the infant’s cerulean blue skin, wide emerald eyes and abnormally large head almost immediately. Why would a child end up here of all places? Not even his brother Shaun, a prison guard, could believe his eyes. Both of them thought they had seen everything down where they grew up in Louisiana, but they were wrong, it so seemed.

The blue infant had a fish, which looked unnervingly like a piranha. Any hand going towards the infant was met with a stern, toothy glare. There was also some sort of pacifier, which glowed with hues of electric blue. John thought it might have been toxic, the way it was glowing, but the infant seemed unharmed when they had it.

Speaking of unharmed, the kid hadn’t managed to come here without a few bruises, much to both John and Shaun’s anger. The infant couldn’t have been more than just a week old, but despite the fact the child appeared bright and well, both feared that they may have suffered some brain damage on their journey here. A long wait in the prison infirmary negated these worries, as well as giving new ones. The infant, (now confirmed to be male), had a strong immune system to the most bizarre of diseases Earth could offer. The more common ones, however, did serious harm. One dose of the common cold wiped him out, leaving John unsure if the kid would even make it to a year old. Luckily, it appeared he would.

Sure enough, John adopted the infant and was very quick to let Shaun know of his new position, which was now Uncle Shaun. The infant, now named Lee, began to grow up into a happy (though not very tall) young boy. For the first four years of his life, he went between staying in the prison and traveling down to the family ranch in Louisiana. John saw it fit that he could grow up alongside the rest of the family, and adopted or not, they were quick to like him. Grandma and Grandpa Taylor were happy to have another grandchild to spoil with treats, and Rodney, his cousin, became his best friend (second to Minion, of course).

There were times where Rodney and Lee could pick up an ice pop, run into the valley and now return for hours, insisting that they were playing cowboys and that they had to go and hunt the thieves. Brandishing their ice pop packets and folding the top, claiming they were ‘guns’. They would dash through the marshes, squealing and laughing as they hid behind trees, clamber up hills, and even go far enough to pet some of the cattle. They would return hours later covered in sweat, boots and their kerchiefs covered in dirt, grinning with traces of sugar around their mouths. They never went very far, only how far their short legs would take them, and Uncle Boe always kept an eye out while they were adventuring.

Lee always began crying when they had to go back to Michigan for the other part of the year.

When they lived at the prison, back in Metro City, John could see that his son was easily influenced by the other prisoners. Most of their “advice” wasn’t too bad, but John didn’t see the need to be telling a young child to hit anyone who got in their face, especially without reason. At least John could be assured that Lee wouldn’t be hurt, given that the prisoners closest to where the kid was were moderately harmless in nature. He didn’t bat an eye when Lee was enrolled in kindergarten the following month and didn’t really think about how the other children would react to his appearance. Not only was he blue, but he had a rather solid Cajun accent, which would be enough to make anyone raise their eyebrows. Now, John himself had that same accent, and he was quite proud of it, but young kids rarely understand how differences work, and this was one of those times they didn’t.

The school was a disaster. Every day John watched his son return to the prison with bruises or cuts, and every dad he came back quieter and quieter. It was odd, really, considering the fact that he had a reputation for being a rowdy child back home. Seeing him barricade himself in his room, without a word to anyone, was incredibly worrying. What was even more worrying, however, was when he returned without the invention he had made that morning, or when a note saying “space-freak cowboy” was taped to his back in what John couldn’t shake looked like the teachers handwriting. Whatever the prisoners had taught him to suddenly came to light, when he was sent home early for punching (or at least trying to) another kid. John was aghast at Lee’s hand because it seemed that his hand had suffered more damage than the other student. The bones were shattered, with multiple breaks and fractures from his wrist to his knuckles. It was almost as if he had punched a brick wall.

The school fiasco went on for four months, with complaints from a parent that Lee was trying to ‘attack’ their child. The complaints only came from one person, and whenever John, or whoever was investigating, asked for proof - the parent never delivered any. They always claimed that it was the ‘emotional’ damage done to her son, who John found out was named Wayne, and not the physical damage, despite teachers reports and the parent originally claiming that Lee had physically attacked him. Whenever John went to speak to his son about this Wayne kid, all he could see was that Lee began to physically tremble, followed by him seething with anger and crying about how horrible Wayne was, but that nobody wanted to see it.

It wasn’t until one day, where Lee set off a blue paint bomb in the school, that John found out everything that had happened. He had been expelled, and through a stream of tears, Lee recited everything that was said and done to him throughout the past number of weeks. This time, it was John, and by extension, Uncle Shaun, who were seething with anger, and remarks that the parents of these monsters of kids were entitled and ignorant. One call back home to the rest of the Taylors sealed it, and a month after his fifth birthday, Lee was told that he, along with Uncle Shaun and his dad, were moving to the Louisiana ranch permanently. John remarked that he had never seen Lee look so eager to go somewhere following going to school, and the sluggish, unwilling attitude that the school had given him had turned into one of excitement. Shaun was worried the kid would fall out of his car seat should he become even more eager.

Once everything was settled, all of Lee’s aunts and uncles were quick to tell him about how he didn’t need to be worried about the ‘dirty rats’ that were the children and teacher of the Lil’ Gifted school, and that the ranch was going to be far more fun. Like Rodney, Lee began to be homeschooled, though his family remarked that they needn’t be bothered given that Lee was exceptional at learning, and could already breeze through physics textbooks intended for college students. This didn’t stop him from teaching Rodney, however, and they would always rush around the ranch afterward. In between the horses, the metalshop, the kitchen, the garage, there weren’t many places where they wouldn’t go.

Rodney, to Lee’s description, looked vaguely similar to Wayne. Though he had more freckles, dotted across his face and arms, and his hair was more wavy and poofy, in comparison to Wayne having rather flat, combed, (“dumb”, as Lee put it) hair. Rodney was two years older than Lee, unlike Wayne only being one year older, and Lee was quick to mention that Rodney was obviously, much cooler and nicer than Wayne could ever be. Rodney took pride in this and said that if he ever saw Wayne, he would deliver him a smack in the face. Lee never mentioned that Wayne was invulnerable, partially because he really did want to see him get slapped across his smug, entitled face, and partially because he didn’t want to bring up what happened to his hand months prior.

As far as Lee was concerned, whatever happened, had happened. It didn’t matter because now he got to stay at the ranch forever and he didn’t have to see his stupid classmates or the loud city or that ugly superman-imitating Wayne again. Still, he missed some of the prison ‘uncles’, and he didn’t want to remember how much weight the words that the teacher had said to him held. He wasn’t a monster, nor was he very evil, despite what she insisted. His dad had reassuringly told him that she would lose her ability to teach, and wouldn’t be able to teach anywhere ever again. It had still hurt him, though. Still wounded whatever pride he had. It was the one thing he never mentioned to his dad, even during his outburst. However, that didn’t matter right now. He could do something about that later.

For now, he was going to settle down in front of the (only) television and chow down on the apple pie his grandparents had lovingly made beside Rodney, and watch Tom and Jerry until he could put Minion in his tank, go to his new room and go to bed. As far as he should be concerned, everything was going to be great.

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Megamind Modern Cowboy AU (Part 2)

Yah boi dumb European is back - I had to do quite a bit of research for this (and upcoming) chapters but hey, it was worth it. I hope you enjoy.

-------------

Growing up, Lee made a very good cowboy. He could saddle a horse and ride it at fast speeds without worrying about his balance, and he was darn good at lassoing cattle. The only downside, his grandpa had said, was that he couldn’t put on a hat - because his head was far too large. Rodney made jokes about this sometimes, saying that if he could find a hat big enough for its head, the hat would probably be the size of the ranch itself. At least this time, Lee knew the jokes were all in good fun.

All of his excitable energy went into his work. He would be up in the morning, cleaning out the horse stables, and helping tend to the land in the heat of the afternoon. Sometimes he would be delegated the task of fixing the truck or re-shoeing the horses. It was funny, considering he did not consider himself much of a farrier, but he was quite handy when it came to tinkering and repairing things. He also loved the horses and went out of his way to sneak them a few apple slices after herding the cattle for long periods of time.

Although he didn’t wear a hat, Lee most certainly had a large collection of kerchiefs that he wore on a daily basis. If he couldn’t have the hat, he might as well have the rest of the gear to make up for it. On some days, if there was little to no clouds, his skin matched the tone of the clear blue sky, and it seemed in a way, fitting. Years of hard work and effort had made his muscles incredibly toned, though he still had a short and rather skinny frame. He had begun to grow facial hair and often trimmed it so it looked like a rough, but smart stubble. Because the ranch was in such a secluded area, (it was a very small town), all the locals knew him, and never really did a double-take when he came in to have dinner or a drink with his family.

Lee, although very skilled at many traits, had yet to master cooking. Sometimes he’d leave rice in the pan for too long so it stuck to the bottom, or accidentally burning the meat. Usually, Rodney or Minion took over making things like grillades. Baking, however, was his strong suit. From a child to adolescence, he had helped his grandma make an assortment of treats. From pies, pecan to blueberry, cakes, biscuits. The fact that he had an incredibly sweet tooth helped. His dad often complained of him not knowing how to cook ‘proper’ food, but he had Minion, and being able to make something was better than being able to make nothing, in his opinion.

Now, he was an adult and was working every day except Sunday along with his family members to run the ranch. It was incredibly fun and often left you tired enough to get a decent night's sleep - which is something he struggled to do when he wasn’t tired enough.

Despite how content Lee was at the ranch, he still couldn’t shake off those horrible feelings years later. No matter how distracted he was while hammering hot metal into horseshoes, fixing saddles or trucks, a small, irritating voice kept muttering about his ‘destiny’ and how that should have been his priority. Forget those people, what about the two that saved your life? What did they want from you? Accusations and questions and doubt swirled up inside of him and made him sick to his stomach. Was he really going to go and do something as petty as that? It was so many years ago. What would his family think of him? He was aware that Rodney had been in hot water with the law before, but it was nothing compared to this.

His passions and the things that made him happy were being discarded in favor of something far more sinister, which made him feel anxious, given that he really wasn’t like that. Still, he had an awful lot of pent up rage towards those people that he sometimes wished he could act upon. “They started it, after all.” He’d tell himself, “You need to show them that they should have regretted what they said to you.”

It was dumb, but Lee feared that this would get the better of him. It began to circle him more frequently. Cleaning out the stables? Revenge. Repairing equipment? Revenge. Horse riding for fun? Revenge. Whenever he’d try and convince himself it was unnecessary and petty, and that he could have a happier life where he was without getting into trouble with the law, these thoughts dismissed whatever argument he came up with and pushed him to follow his ‘destiny.’ After all, you don’t have a say in what your destiny is, you just have to do it.

His family members had begun to take notice, and his Dad and Uncle Shawn began to grow weary of how familiar his attitude was now to how it had been back in his school days. Lee slowly began to stop smiling so often, or he became so engrossed in his work that he’d drown out anything else, even those who came in for a bit of small talk. Despite focusing so much of his energy on his work, he started losing sleep, his eyes always looked foggy and sullen in the morning, and exhausted at night. He began scribbling ideas for objects of mayhem rather than contraptions of convenience, and sure enough, his sleep schedule quickly spiraled out of control.

Rodney was the first to speak up, even though he was one of the last to be worried. He figured that something had happened and that Lee was just grieving, or bearing the brunt of getting over it. Once a week had passed, he felt that something was wrong.

“Hey cuz, you haven’t been yurself lately, fancy talkin ‘bout it?”

For the first time that week, Lee looked at someone dead in the eyes. He looked tired and incredibly cold. The worry must have shown on Rodney’s face, because he plastered on a bitter smile over his depressed expression, and began to chuckle. Chuckling probably wasn’t the best way to describe it though, as he started to shake, and streams of tears began to flow down his cheeks. His face morphed into one that was deeply angry and broken, and Rodney pulled him into an awkward hug, waiting for him to calm down. Instead, he started hyperventilating and kept choking on his own tears until his exhaustion got the better of him and he passed out. Calling Uncle Boe, they both carried him to his room, and placed him in his bed, leaving a glass of water on the nightstand for when he woke up.

That morning, Lee awoke to everything feeling fuzzy, as the objects in his room that he tried to focus on began to dance in circles around his head. He felt ill, yet he felt nothing. He trudged over to the tank in the corner of his room and placed Minion in his ball. Then, he pulled out a heavy case from beneath his bed and started to stuff his clothes, his books, his… plans. He then proceeded to check the time. It was 4 AM, and nobody would be awake for at least another hour unless he woke somebody up. He used this time to have a shower and get dressed, as well as have breakfast, before shoving the case in the back of one of the trucks outside.

By then, the rest of his family had stirred and were already in the kitchen. He came in Minion’s ball under his arm and announced that he had to leave for something important. He never specified what, as he was sure that if he did they would try to talk him out of it. His family looked concerned, sad, that he was leaving. They couldn’t be sad though, as he knew that deep down, they probably didn’t care. As much as he loved the ranch, his dismal destiny called. So, without a (visible) trace of doubt, he clambered into the van, started the vehicle and began to drive toward Metro City, Michigan.

He tried so very hard, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking back that morning.

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Jason: This is the best vanilla pudding I’ve ever had

Michael: that’s butter Jason

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IS NO ONE GOING TO TALK ABOUT THE FACT THAT HIS FUCKING HERO NAME IS CENSORED?!

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