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lucemferto · 3 years

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I wrote that Wilbur scene I talked about yesterday. I don't know if I captured any of the characters' voices, but I tried. It's around 1,800 words.

Sorry to spoil the surprise, but this scene has a twist!

„I’m not joining you.“

Wilbur’s eyes grew narrow. His cold gaze lingered on Tommy’s face. The boy’s expression was resolute; unwavering.

But there was this slight twitch in the left corner of his mouth. Just the faintest quiver in his lips. A weakness to be exploited.

“This burger van …” Tommy hesitated “… it’s just history repeating itself. It will end with us hurting people again …”

“’With us hurting people’?” Wilbur raised an eyebrow.

As he stepped closer, all the determination that Tommy had projected seemed to vanish in the blink of an eye. Wilbur gave him a wide smile – a thinly-veiled threat behind the appearance of affability.

“Tommy, we never hurt anyone! L’Manburg was a grand old time, Tommy, don’t you remember? Me as president; you as—”

“Maybe it wasn’t, Wilbur.”

Wilbur’s smile faltered. A glower displaced his once outwardly cheery disposition.

“You’re not making sense.”

“I’m not making sense?!” Tommy raised his voice, a blustering anger flaring up and painting over the insecurities that had been so apparent just moments before. “The presidency killed you, Wilbur! And it almost killed Tubbo! I can’t let that—”

“Tubbo?!” A hoarse laugh escaped Wilbur’s throat; more like the angry bellowing of a rabid dog. “Why the fuck should we care about Tubbo?! He betrayed us, Tommy!”

“T-That’s not true!”

Wilbur stepped closer; Tommy took a step back – but the walls of the van were already pressed up against his back. The older man was towering over him, casting him in shadow. A wild and manic energy was glinting in his eyes, bloodshot and red like sundown soon giving way to a dark night.

“He fucking teamed with the enemy, Tommy! What else would you call that?!”

“He still cares—”

Wilbur’s hand shot forward. Like the maw of an angry serpent, it closed itself around Tommy’s throat. All colour drained from the boy’s face – his complexion like that of a corpse.

“Don’t you fucking get it, Tommy?!” Little droplets of spittle rained on Tommy’s skin as Wilbur’s face inched ever closer to his. “Tubbo doesn’t care; he never cared! You were just a fucking tool to him, Tommy! Someone he could use and throw away once you were no longer useful!”

Wilbur’s dirty fingernails burrowed themselves into Tommy’s neck – soon trails of red were trickling down into the boy’s shirt.

“I’m the only who cares, Tommy! I’m the only one who ever cared about you!”

“Wilbur! Y-you’re hurting me!”

“Shut the fuck up, Tommy! I don’t ca—”

“STOP!”

The scene halted; as though time had frozen. A figure emerged from the darkness of the burger van.

It was Wilbur.

Though he and the Wilbur currently choking Tommy looked almost identical upon first glance, there were some striking differences: Gleaming red eyes contrasted against tired brown ones; demonic intensity against a dull exhaustion. The first Wilbur seemed almost unnaturally tall and imposing as he towered over Tommy; the second Wilbur carried himself smaller, more guarded.

“I d-don’t …” For a moment the voice of the second Wilbur seemed to falter; but soon he snapped back to a more confident bearing; all insecurity obscured behind a steadfast façade. “No more!”

A deafening silence fell upon the van. Then, slowly, as though unattached from his neck, Tommy’s head turned to Wilbur. Brilliant blue gave way to a searing crimson; fear to a wide, sharp-teethed grin.

“Whaaaat? You don’t enjoy the little play I put on just for you? And I thought you’d be impressed with all the cool ghost shit I can do now.”

With a sickening ratch, two horns ripped through Tommy’s temples. Shadow swallowed his blond locks, transforming them into dark, slicked back hair. Murky, unkempt facial hair sprout from his skin as his once lively complexion grew grey and translucent. Smokey tendrils enshrouded the red and white T-Shirt, before it emerged as a black business suit, the bloodred tie serving as the only blotch of colour.

The ghost of Schlatt had appeared before Wilbur.

“Guess it hit a little too close to home, huh?”

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed. While the illusionary Tommy had disappeared upon Glatt’s arrival, the facsimile of himself was still standing there. Frozen in eternal wrath.

Wilbur’s mouth grew thin. “I wouldn’t do that to Tommy. I would never hurt him.”

Feigned shock contorted Glatt’s mouth into a darkly comical expression. “That’s not what he told me.”

Wilbur felt something icy sting in his chest “What?”

Glatt nodded. “Yeah, it was the strangest thing. I was in my gym doing reps, snorting creatine, you know how it goes, when suddenly I hear some … some whining.”

Wilbur immediately took notice. He knew what Glatt was talking about. The lump in his throat felt like it would soon suffocate him.

Glatt didn’t seem to notice.

“The sound of some low-T beta just letting it all out. And when I go take a look, who else should I find but—"

“Tommy …”

“Don’t interrupt me. Anyway, when I turn the corner, I see this real pathetic mess just sitting on the floor, sobbing. I told him to shut the fuck up, because he was throwing me off my game. But he just wouldn’t stop, so good guy that I am – you remember how great I am with kids!”

“You never were.”

“Oh no, I was! That Tubbo-kid, he had it good in Manberg.”

Wilbur flinched – whether it was because of the bastardized name of the country he had once loved and loathed or because Glatt’s words woke some memories in him that he’d soon rather forget; he did not know.

“You had him executed.”

Glatt nodded, a wistful smile curling his ashen lips. “Good times, good times. Anyway, the little ghost-brat … he tells me his name is Gommy.”

Glatt let out a harsh, bellowing laugh. Wilbur could not share his amusement. He had almost forgotten how much he hated Schlatt’s sneering.

The ghost still had not managed to fully compose himself. “Gommy, that’s such a dumb name! Gommy … you wanna know what a good name is?”

“Is it—?”

“GLATT!”

The sound came out like a bile-filled belch. Wilbur closed his eyes in exasperation; his fingers massaging the bridge of his nose.

“I figured … Does this story have a point or are you just here to waste my time?”

Glatt frowned. “What, am I not good enough company for you?”

“Not even in the slightest.”

For the first time in their conversation, Glatt’s face grew more serious. His red stare tore into Wilbur; almost drilled into his mind. Wilbur answered the ghost’s stare with what he hoped was a cold, unreadable expression.

But he knew that in Schlatt’s presence, there were no masks to wear. No intent to hide. That ram was the only man that could strip him bare.

Finally, Wilbur had to break eye contact. With a sound of exasperation, he spat out: “Get to the point!”

“‘Get to the point’” The false Wilbur moved his lips, but it was Glatt’s mocking voice that emerged from behind them. “Man, I liked it more when you were a little ghost bitch. You used to come to my gym actually; did some reps. Annoying accent, but damn, what a cute ass.”

Wilbur’s jaw tensed. He had enough of this.

“I’m leaving.”

With a few long strides he had reached the exit of the van. The cold, fresh night air was beckoning him; away from the smell of cigarettes and alcohol.

Then that obnoxious voice called after him again: “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. Ghost-boy didn’t have the nicest things to say about you …”

Wilbur froze. His hand was on the door handle, ready to release him from this dark, stuffy room. It would be so easy to just leave; to rid himself of this headache. He did not need to stay.

“… You’re lying.”

A wide grin stretched Glatt’s thin lips – Wilbur couldn’t see it; but he could hear it in that tone of his.

“I’m the one who’s lying? No, no, no, I’m merely recounting what 'Gommy' told me.”

Wilbur turned around. Glatt’s smug smirk was even more unbearable than he had imagined.

“You know, after he was done bawling his eyes out and blubbering like a little bitch –“

Glatt’s face shifted into warped replica of Tommy’s – big shimmering eyes and a little doll like mouth quivering with exaggerated sorrow: “‘D-D-Dweam, D-Dweam, h-h-he’— Anyway, he told me that while my cabinet was having a grand old time over in Manberg, you were being very mean to him.”

Wilbur shook his head. “I-I’ve changed. I apologized!”

Tommy-Glatt let out another bellowing laugh. It cut through Wilbur like a knife through a paper door.

“You think an apology could make this better!”

Wilbur jumped back. The fake Wilbur began to move once more. With a thundering roar, his fist made contact with the fake Tommy’s temple. A loud thud; Tommy impacted with the floor of the van. But before he could get up, the fake Wilbur began kicking him in the stomach; screaming obscenities and curses.

It wasn’t Wilbur’s voice – it was so clearly Glatt’s poor imitation of his accent. With each kick, Glatt-Tommy’s eyes bulged out of his skull; not like a person, but like a grotesque cartoon. It was a farcical display.

But Wilbur – the real Wilbur – was paralyzed. His mind was clouded with memories and nightmares; fears bloated and distorted by thirteen years of isolation

“That’s not … that’s not what happened!”

Schlatt’s piercing, high-pitched cackling erupted out of Tommy’s mouth once more.

“Boy, Limbo really did a number on you!”

With a jump Glatt-Tommy was up on his feet again – his nose bloody and broken, his skin coloured black and blue; his hateful grin revealing multiple missing teeth.

“Not that you were all that together beforehand – ‘Tommy, let’s be the bad guys!’ ‘No, Wilbur don’t blow up Manberg. If you blow up Manberg, I’m gonna piss my pants—’ ‘Shut up, Tommy!’”

“I never hit him!” Wilbur’s panicked exclamation interrupted the smear show. “I never hit him!”

Glatt-Tommy shook his head; the satisfied grin not leaving his face. “That’s not what he told me! And what’s worse, when that green guy – Dream, I think his name was? – while he was using Tommy as his own personal punching bag, your ghost was off in the woods jerking off or something. And now you're calling Dream your hero!”

Wilbur felt as all colour drained from his face. The van around him began to spin; darkness and alcohol and cigarette smoke choking even the last ounce of the outside air he could smell.

“I-I …”

Slowly the façade of Tommy began to melt once more. Slowly, deliberately. A nightmarish display. Glatt’s and Tommy’s voices spoke in unison; their echo a cacophony in Wilbur’s ears.

“Face it, loverboy. You will always be a bad guy. No number of apologies will change that. He will never forgive you.”

#cw violence #dream smp #dsmp #dsmpblr #dreamsmp #dream smp writing #wilbur soot #dsmp wilbur #c!wilbur #tommyinnit #dsmp tommy #c!tommy #jschlatt #schlatt #c!jschlatt #c!schlatt #glatt #dsmp glatt

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tklpilled · 3 years

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actually fuck cc!wilbur (/j /lh) ghostbur is hanging with his bestie gommy (who he calls gommy bear!) and they're playing like. charades

gommy bear,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

#/pos #ask #splendiferousserendipity #clown tag

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cleverclove · 4 years

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☕️ strawberries gommy bears ;P

If you meant those separately, strawberries and gummy bears are both really good!

And combining the two are delicious :D

Thanks for asking!!

#ask #pluto-is-real #^^

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fvckyouimaprophet · 6 years

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Queer Bops: Songs by queer artists or bands that include queer artists. [147 songs, 8 hours and 40 minutes]

Note: This playlist is best played on shuffle. I was tired of seeing the same 10 artists rec’d on every list, so I decided to compile one myself that includes people from a variety of genres and across all generations. While everything may not be up your alley, I hope you find a few bands and artists in here that you love! I’ll also later be making a playlist of my favs if you want to wait for something more narrow.

SONGLIST UNDER CUT

People who asked to be tagged: @elleem, @genderneutralmilkhotel, @thosefinelines, @mutedcolors, @lesbians-love-taylor, @sirdorkalot, @jesuisfarouhe, @cuddlycuddlefish, @thisselflovecamebacktome, @iamgoingsomewherebeautiful, @georgianadarcies, @shaloved30, @andrewsrannels, @bukwrm, @nearlyheadlessmccree, @earlgreygoodbyes, @spoopyswifty, @zobothehob0

Everybody Wants to Love You by Japanese Breakfast

It’s Okay To Cry by SOPHE

Empty by Kevin Abstract

Seventeen by Troye Sivan

Slip Away by Perfume Genius

Saint by Blood Orange

Turn Out the Lights by Julien Baker

Direct Address by Lucy Dacus

Make Me Feel by Janelle Monáe

Father Figure by George Michael

Mourning Sound by Grizzly Bear

Change by Le1f

I Don’t Love You Anymore by ANOHNI

Drunk Drivers/Killer Wales by Car Seat Headrest

Karaoke (ft. Lizzo) by Big Freedia

To Die in L.A. by Lower Dens

girls by girl in red

Moth’s Wings by Passion Pit

Vicious by Lou Reed

Holy by King Princess

Ghost by Halsey

Islands by The xx

Bike Dream by Rostam

Depreston by Courtney Barnett

My Guy by Kele Okereke

Wait for Me by AW

Bobby by (Sandy) Alex G

bitches by Trove Lo

New York by St. Vincent

Body and Soul by teddy<3

Girlfriend (ft. Dâm-Funk) by Chris (formerly Christine and the Queens)

Gon Blow (ft. Rye Rye by Cakes da Killa

Sleeping with a Friend by Neon Trees

Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go by Wham!

I’m Not Calling by Hollie Col

Kiss the Boy by Keiynan Lonsdale

Send Me You by The Butchies

1 Billion Dogs by Jay Som

Chanel by Frank Ocean

Memo by Years & Years

Spread Your Wings by Queen

Honey by Kehlani

One for My Baby (And One More For the Roady) by Billie Holiday

What I Need (ft. Kehlani) by Hayley Kiyoko

Daddy by SAKIMA

Touch by Shura

I Know a Place by MUNA

DISTRICT by BROCKHAMPTON

I Don’t Feel Like Dancin’ by Scissor Sisters

The Crying Game by Boy George

Tutti Frutti by Little Richard

In My Defence by Freddie Mercury

Closer by Tegan and Sara

Demi Moore by Phoebe Bridgers

123 by Girlpool

Low Hymnal by Told Slant

Full Screen by Adult Mom

Loner by Mykki Blanco

I Think She Knows by Kaki King

Brujas by Princess Nokia

Dans la nuit by Coeur de Pirate

Rebel Rebel by David Bowie

Cosmi Dancer by T. Rex

Rocket Man by Elton John

Give Me One Reason by Tracy Chapman

We Got the Beat by The Go-Go’s

Go West by Village People

Opulence by Brooke Candy

Boys by Lizzo

Private Idaho by The B-52′s

Pretty Baby by Blondie

Grace Kelly by MIKA

William, It Was Really Nothing by The Smiths

It’s a Sin by Pet Shop Boys

A Little Respect by Erasure

Big Big Love by k.d. lang

She’s a Rejecter by of Montreal

Would You Be So Kind by dodie

You Make Me Feel (Mighty Real) by Sylvester

Hungry Ghost by Hurray for the Riff Raff

Know Your Name by Mary Lambert

War Paint by Frankie Simone

The Greatest by Sia

Famous Last Words by My Chemical Romance

St. Patrick by Pvris

Skydiving by Lights

Transgender Dysphoria Blues by Against Me!

Lewis Takes Off His Shirt by Owen Pallett

April’s Fool by Angel Haze

Tommy by Gommy Genesis

Reality TV by Mal Blum

Fever by Adam Lambert

Die Young by Kesha

Celi by Entropica

Home by Mercy Bell

Sweet Talk by Avalon Young

Only a Girl by Gia

Maniac by Peaches

Nightcrawler by Aye Nako

So Real by Bloc Party

100 Years by Vagabon

Human Bog by Baths

Blooming by Shamir

brighter by Saint Sebastian

Bulletproof by La Roux

Lifestyle by Dizzy Fae

WHAT DO U LIKE by jesse saint john

Like Heaven by Zolita

Remember Me by VINCINT

Widdit by Lava La Rue

Free to Love by Brendan Maclean

Going To a Town by Rufus Wainwright

Are You Still Certain (ft. Mashrou’ Leila) by Herculues & Love-Affair

I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone by Sleater-Kinney

Angels Would Fall by Melissa Etheridge

Bikini Kill Bill by The Magic Fountains

Promissory Note by Downtown Boys

Rebel Girl by Bikini Kill

Shake Em Off by Syd

Crazy Game by Indigo Girls

Cool for the Summer by Demi Lovato

Prove It On Me Blues by Ma Rainey

Livin’ la Vida Loca by Ricky Martin

Piece of My Heart by Big Brother & The Holding Company

List of Demands (Reparations) by Saul Williams

Out The Way by Nadine Shah

Fem in a Black Leather Jacket by Pansy Division

I’m Not Afraid by Holland

Baby Won’t You Please Come Home by Bessie Smith

You Know Jam Don’t Shake by Frankie “Half-Pint” Jaxon

Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) by Green Day

The Village Green Preservation Society by The Kinks

Anyone Else But You by The Moldy Peaches

Zombie by Jay Brannan

Isende Lendlela by Faka

Resilience by Annabelle Chvostek

Chercher la femme by Coccinelle

Big Girls Don’t Cry (Personal) by Fergie

Colour by MNEK

GUY.exe by Superfruit

Ooh La La by Goldfrapp

That Was the Whiskey by Antigone Rising

Around Us by Jónsi

Saw You in a Dream by The Japanese House

Agoraphobia by Deerhunter

Black Tie by Grace Petrie

Here Is a Heart by Jenny Owens Young

#lgbt #lgbtq #queer #music #playlist #spotify #*

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kurouzus · 5 years

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harpers learned how to use the alexa and today i woke up to her screaming at it to play the gummy bear song and she was getting mad because it wasnt understanding her

#not to defend an alexa but in its defence she is 2 and was pronouncing it like #pglay gommy bear song

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spinnyspood · 3 years

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Box open, get a 5 pound cherry-flavoured gummy bear.

[HPC voice] MAXIMUM GOMMI BEAR. And it's still fresh!!

I packed food but this is a good find anyway.

#spoodposts

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itsworn · 7 years

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Traditional Hot Rods, Customs, Tankers and Dragsters with Flathead V8s and Four-Bangers Duke it Out at the Inaugural RPM Nationals

The rustic Santa Margarita Ranch, in Santa Margarita, California, played host to the very first RPM Nationals flathead drag races this past October. The creators of the event, Justin Baas, Mason Dyer, and Russ Hare, wanted to bring the experience of post-WWII-era drag racing to a new generation. The ranch, with its own airstrip, was a perfect setting, surrounded by grass fields, coastal mountains, and a few cows. The event was open to traditional flathead four-cylinder (four-banger) or V8 flathead-powered hot rods, customs, belly tankers, and dragsters, as long as they ran an un-narrowed rear axle.

The RPM Nationals was not just a drag race. There was also an early Ford parts and speed parts swap meet and a large car show along the spectator side of the strip.

The drag racing at the RPM Nationals was separated in to four classes: Street V8, Street Four-Banger, Race V8, and Race Four-Banger. For a car to qualify in one of the Race classes it had to run a power adder, such as a supercharger or nitro. The racing was very exciting throughout the day, with more than 50 cars running against each other in a grudge-style format. After the grudge races, eliminations were held in each class, and by the end of the day a winner was crowned in each class.

For a first-time event there was excellent spectator turnout. That and the car count for the racing and car show took some of the staff by surprise. With the success of the drags, the creators of the event and the owners of the ranch are already starting to plan for next year’s RPM Nationals.

Checkered Past: Paul Gommi’s 1932 roadster was built in 1947 by five G.I.s who put everything they had into the car to go dry lakes racing. The car was originally driven by Jack Ewell, who eventually became the head of Mickey Thompson’s Speed Shop. The 1937 21-stud flathead is topped with a S.Co.T. supercharger and original 1934 Ford aluminum heads with the water pumps inside the heads. Paul would eventually take the win in the Race Flathead class.

Shine: The car show at the RPM Nationals could have been an event all by itself. Unlike the racing, the show wasn’t limited to flathead-powered cars, so it was filled with many different types of traditional hot rods, customs, and drag cars.

Goods: The swap meet was filled with vendors selling early Ford parts and speeds parts. A lot of the vendors brought their parts to sell in vintage vehicles to keep to the old-time feel of the event.

Suited: Mason Dyer tightens up his vintage racing helmet prior to his run in his roadster. Although not required, a lot of the racers wore vintage helmets and racing suits to fit in with the feel of the event.

Girl Power: Rochelle Pall was a fierce competitor with her four-banger-powered Model A roadster, which features an aluminum Cyclone cylinder head, a magneto, and two Stromberg 97 carburetors on a no-name intake. Her roadster was built by her husband, Jason Paul, who owns Bear Metal Kustoms out of Morro Bay, California.

Chopped: The drags weren’t limited to hot rods. Customs could participate too, as long as they were flathead powered, like John Barnes’ chopped 1936 Ford coupe. John squared off against Anthony Galante in his chopped 1928 Model A coupe.

Waiting: Nick Todd, in his candy red 1932 Ford roadster (“All in the Family,” Jan. 2015), is ready to go up against Josh Sorheim, driving Roberto Verde’s light blue 1933 roadster.

Bronze Flame: The track-nosed roadster owned by Lars Mapstead was originally built in 1951 by Ed Donato and features sheetmetal work done by the Barris brothers. The 1931 roadster is powered by a 1946 Mercury flathead, and has laid down speeds of 103-125 mph on the dry lakes. The roadster is mostly unrestored and features its original lacquer paint job.

Highboy: Art Cerna, from Lindsay, California, brought his 1931 Model A roadster. It featured a lot of vintage aftermarket parts, including a Winfield cylinder head. The body is painted a factory Ford Model A color, dawn grey light, with dawn grey dark trim.

World’s Fastest: Bill Burke and his build partner Don Francisco were two of the pioneers in building land speed racers out of WWII aircraft drop tanks, commonly known as belly tanks. Bill and Don are known for building several historic “tankers,” such as the So-Cal Speed Shop belly tanker and the number 3 belly tanker, which was Bill’s personal race car. The number 3 belly tanker was featured on the cover of HOT ROD in August 1949, and was named “world’s fastest hot rod” after achieving a speed of 151.085 mph. The tanker has since been restored by Bobby Green from Old Crow Speed Shop, and was raced at the RPM Nationals.

Homebuilt: After a couple months of late-night garage sessions, Marc Nelson was able to finish his belly tank racer just in time for the race. The tanker is powered by a V8-60 flathead that runs into a three-speed transmission that connects to a quick-change rear axle.

Tribute: Dean Murray is no stranger to the dragstrip. Murray, along with friend Mike Waters, campaigned the Triple Nickel Model A drag roadster throughout the 1950s. In 1953, Murray partnered with So-Cal Speed Shop, resulting in the Triple Nickel being painted in the So-Cal Speed Shop white and red livery. Dean still owns the original Triple Nickle, which is baby blue, along with the So-Cal Speed Shop tribute roadster, which was built by Formula One Air Racing pilot Chuck Wentworth.

Honey Dew: Diana Branch of the historic Bean Bandits car club brought out her 1929 Model A roadster that she and her husband, Tom, built for her to race. The roadster was completed in just five weeks with help from their friend Fabien Valdez from Vintage Hammer Garage.

Flagger: The RPM Nationals were run in a traditional style of using a flag start. The starters rotated throughout the day, each with a unique style of jumping to start the race.

Cab: Skateboarding legend Steve Caballero, who is an avid collector of vintage hot rods, brought his 1935 Ford coupe to participate with in the drags. The return road for the dragstrip was a grass-lined dirt road that the racers had to slowly drive down to get back to the pits. The owners of the ranch plan to have the road paved before the drags next year.

Winner: Emerging victorious in the Race Four-Banger class was Joe Rodriguez in his very fast 1931 Model A. The roadster is equipped with a cross-flow Cragar head and many other Cragar speed parts. At the end of the day, Joe squared off against Race Flathead winner Paul Gommi, where he came out victorious as well.

Bandits: The Bean Bandits out of San Diego, formed by Joaquin Arnett, have been a SCTA recognized club since 1949. After formation, they quickly got a reputation for winning in low-budget race cars. The original Bean Bandits’ dragster was one of those cars that was known for winning. The dragster, now owned by Joaquin’s son Jeff Arnett, made several passes on nitro during the event, 65 years after his dad last drove the car.

The post Traditional Hot Rods, Customs, Tankers and Dragsters with Flathead V8s and Four-Bangers Duke it Out at the Inaugural RPM Nationals appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

from Hot Rod Network http://www.hotrod.com/articles/traditional-hot-rods-customs-tankers-dragsters-flathead-v8s-four-bangers-duke-inaugural-rpm-nationals/ via IFTTT

#IFTTT #Hot Rod Network

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