#that fight looks BALLER and i wanna watch it

[remersgf]

please

doug remer x fem!reader

1.5k words

cw: smut, dom(f)/sub(m) dynamics, bondage, edging, overstimulation😊

enjoy!

“pleasepleaseplease.. please, fuck!”

you had been edging remer for the past hour. it was his idea, and you didn’t think you’d be that into it. you were wrong. he persuaded you with a, ‘let’s try this out, we might hate it, but what if we love it?’, even though not much persuading was needed. you were willing to try everything at least once, and you’d be lying if you said you never thought about teasing remer until he was totally and completely submitted to you. with his hands bonded by a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs above his head, you were sure it couldn’t get better than this.

“what do you want? use your words, baby. i won’t have any idea what you’re talking about if you don’t use your words.” you said softly, teasingly.

you kneeled next to his laying body, tracing your finger up his bare abdomen with a malicious grin. you took note of how hard and flushed he was against his stomach, even with a lack of stimulation, and how his pink tip leaked onto the patch of pubic hair that rested just under his belly button.

“please, baby, just want you to touch me, just for a little. you know i’m good, i’m such a, fuck, such a slut f’you…” he whimpered as he desperately bucked his hips into nothing.

“i know, honey. i can see that.” you laughed, poking his cock before pinching him in the side lightly.

“y/n…” he begged in defeat, curly locks meeting the pillow and fanning out under him as he threw his head back.

“okay, doug, i’ll touch you for a little bit.” you feigned a contemplative look, pretending to weigh your options to add some suspense. humming as you bring your thumb to his slit, you smile at the look on his face when he feels you.

“thank you, thank you, th- fuckkk…”

you watched him squirm next to you, looking him over and observing his reactions as you start to lazily drag your hand over his length. his face was contorted in a grimace, almost as if the pleasure was so strong it hurt; like he couldn’t handle it. despite his big-baller, confident demeanor, it was incredibly easy to make him jelly in your hands.

“does it feel good?”

“mhmm-yes, jesus..”

he was pathetically desperate, rutting against your palm to meet your strokes, and you couldn’t help but swoon at his display of submissiveness. you were on a power high; the number of times you slowly brought him to the peak but took it away at the last second did something to your ego. his brow furrowed, tiny drops of sweat beading above them and on his forehead. you knew well he was getting close again.

the sounds filling the room as you worked over him were nearly pornographic: wet squelches of your hand pumping him, his whiny moans, and your gentle coos of praise guiding him to euphoria. the metal of the handcuffs began to clink together; he was fighting the urge to reach out and touch you, or at least to grab onto something. you giggled under your breath at the scene. even though it was his idea, you found it funny how you managed to get doug remer, baseketball star, to melt under you like this.

“wanna cum… please, y/n…” he whimpered, stuttering his words and rutting against your hand with a bit more purpose now.

you squeeze the base of his dick, gripping it a little too hard to produce a whimper from him, “you want it bad, baby? i’m gonna need some convincing…” you tease menacingly.

“please, please- s-hit! y/n, honey, i’ll do whatever you want, i’ll worship the fucking ground you walk on, anything, just please let me cum!” he ends with a loud whine.

“let me cum, ahh!” you mimic, “i don’t think you’ve earned it yet, doug.”

you pull your hand from him, leaving him to cry out in frustration and writhe violently against the bedspread. you laugh louder this time, and you swear you can see the apples of his cheeks turn bright red in spite of the dark lighting. he really is enjoying himself.

“wanna count down for me?” you soothe, petting his hair affectionately.

“10..” he starts, whining like a brat who didn’t get the toy they wanted.

“good boy, remer. you’re doing so good, keep going.”

you trail your finger absentmindedly across his tummy, watching his muscles twitch every time you pass over a sensitive spot. when he eventually reaches ‘1’, with struggle, you make your way back to his aching cock. tracing the tip of your finger over his hip, to his thick bush of pubic hair, to his balls, and all the way back up to his furiously red tip. you wrap your fingers around him gently, almost scared you’d startle him.

“thankyou.!” doug spits out with a guttural moan, his head leaning back impossibly far into the pillows.

“there’s my sweetheart,” you giggle, “you look fucked.”

“y/n… gonna- gonna cum if you don’t stop. i’m so fucking close, i’m right there, baby.” he moans, pants synchronizing with the pace of your fist.

he wasn’t lying, he was so hard that it felt like his dick was about to burst in your hand. you look over him once more, trying to soak in the moment as much as possible before it ended. how his chest hued a soft pink, how his curls thrashed against the pillows, how his whiny moans went straight to your crotch. something for you to remember him by when you spend your nights without him, craving him.

given you could physically feel your wetness oozing down onto your thighs, you took pity on him and started rubbing his cock harder and faster with each stroke.

“thas’ it… c’mon,” you smile lovingly down at him.

what really does it for him is catching a glimpse of your face; your lips tucked between your teeth in concentration, looking more desperate for his orgasm than him. his long-awaited release finally catches up to him, exorcising a throaty, loud, moan from deep within.

white, gooey droplets spurt from his twitching tip and spill into your hand. you watch him cum, and you think he must be unreal. jaw agape with rosy cheeks decorating his fucked-out face, his body shaking under your touch; he’s so fucking pretty. pearl-colored honey drips over your fingers and down your wrist with a delicious tickle, and you have to hold back a moan at the feeling.

he looks absolutely gone, stuck in a haze of bliss and ecstasy. you worked him through his orgasm, slowing the pace of your hand down ever so slightly when you watch a shudder wash over him. when his back starts to arch slightly, you know you have him right where you want him.

“ah- ah! too much, too much, babe… please…” doug whimpered, squirming away from your touch and squeezing his eyes shut.

“if you wanted to cum so bad, you’ll do it again.” obviously, if he really wanted you to stop, you would. but you knew neither of you wanted that.

reverberant squelches filled your ears, his cum lubricating and making it easier for you to work over him. it sounded obscene; everything was just so wet and obnoxiously loud, which made butterflies twirl and flit in your stomach.

although slightly painful, your hand felt like the best thing in the entire world to him. soft, wet, creamy; against his better judgment, he started to thrust into your palm. it was all very confusing: if it hurt so bad, how the hell did it feel so incredible at the same time?

surprising himself, he muttered out, ‘’m gonna cum,” weakly.

after a few gasps, and bucks of his hips, he spilled into your hand for a second time this evening. it dripped from his tip and leaked down to collect at the base of his cock. a meek, drawn-out whimper left him as he came, chained hands balling into fists. his face contorted in pleasure, and your clit throbbed as you watched him. you mercifully pulled your hand off him and licked his cum from your fingers, even if he wasn’t watching. his cum was your favorite thing to have in your mouth, besides pasta with vodka sauce. but that doesn’t matter.

you lay down next to him, draping a leg over his as you bring your hand up to twirl his curls in between your fingers.

“hi,” you giggle when he finally opens his eyes and meets your gaze.

“oh my god.” he sighed, throwing his head back down on the pillows with a lazy grin.

“was it good?” you ask, all smiley. love has made you a total sap, but you can’t say you hate it.

“could you tell?” he giggles, droopy eyes adorning his face.

you kiss him gently, caressing a palm over his cheek. when you pull away, you remember the cuffs.

“want me to help you out there, bud?” you laugh, nodding to his big, masculine hands in the pink furry handcuffs.

“no, i kinda like ‘em like this. come up here, come sit on my face, baby.” he says lowly, adjusting his head so it’s flat on the pillow.

“fuck…” you whisper.

you knew you were in for a long night.

#doug remer smut #doug remer x reader #baseketball fanfiction #baseketball #baseketball smut #matt stone #matt stone x reader #matt stone smut #finally finished omg #long fic still otw btw #anyway enjoy

[enquiringangel]

Pyrrhic

Cw for canon character death. Vaguely implied Michael/David.

-x-

“It’s over,” Star gasps, elated with her newfound freedom. “It’s finally over.” 

Michael doesn’t have the heart to tell her that it isn’t. 

When she throws her arms around him he hears her pulse in stereo, rapid thumps that gradually slow without fear to act as a piston. Beneath the burned flesh reek of Max’s demise—Dwayne’s too—he can smell coppery, garlicky water and the acid wash of human sweat. Even in the darkness of their unlit home Michael can see the gleam of perspiration cutting through the soot on her face, on Sam’s. 

He sees David clear as day, lying prone on the horns where Michael had thrown him, lifeless features cherubic and curiously smooth, as if someone had shaved his face in preparation for burial.  No longer does he feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, or the curious magnetic draw of David’s presence. 

What he does feel, as his mother and Sam pepper Grandpa with questions, is hunger. That terrible hunger like someone’s scraped his insides out with a melon baller, the monstrous desire that throbs in the roots of his fangs.  

David had laughed when Michael proclaimed himself not to be a killer. Had watched with grim satisfaction as Michael’s face twisted to reflect the nature of the beast within, had twisted to become just like him.  

How smug David would be, if only he were alive (unalive?) to be right. 

There’s a cold, hollow sensation in Michael’s chest as he drifts across the breezy living room past the ash-blind eyes of the stuffed mountain lion to study the body more closely.  

“Michael?” 

He ignores the questioning call of his name in favour of tracing the line of David’s cheek with the pads of his fingers. Sadness settles on him, but it’s a strange kind of sadness, distant like he’s experiencing it third-hand. The anger that burns in his chest is bright and purifying in comparison.  

“You lying son of a bitch,” he mutters. His newfound friends are all deader than dead, and for what? None of them had needed to die: not Marko, not Paul, not Dwayne. And definitely not David, who was never the head vampire to begin with. Monsters, murderers they were, but Michael would never have wished harm on them if he thought there was any other way. 

If he only knew the truth, would the outcome be the same? Perhaps it would – perhaps they would’ve come to avenge Max as they came to avenge Marko. Or perhaps they would’ve treated Max’s death with the same casual disregard he showed for theirs. 

“Stop fighting me, Michael! I don’t wanna kill you. Join us.” 

Michael can never know; there’s no one left to ask. A bitter smile curls his lips. “I didn’t want to either,” he says, like David can hear him.  

“Mike?” Sam moves towards him, sneakers scuffing through the dust. “You okay, bud?” His eyes are wide and white against his grubby face like the eyes of a startled animal. 

“Don’t,” Michael warns, turning away from him. He can’t tell what his own eyes look like at the moment. Better not to look. “Stay away from me.” 

“Michael, what’s wrong?” his mother asks, tired voice growing sharper with concern. She too, comes closer, heels clicking over the floorboards.  

“I said stay back,” he snaps. God, it’s like they want him to eat them. Michael sees no point in dancing around the subject; better to do it quick, like tearing off a Band-Aid. “You’re not safe near me; I’m still one of them.” A pause. “And I’m...really hungry.” 

Star now, adding her voice to the chorus. “What but that’s - me and Laddie are normal again, so why aren’t you?” She sounds so sad for him, like he’s the one who died or something.  

“Because I—” Michael trails off, his throat suddenly too small to let the words out. Do monsters cry? It seems so. 

“It’s because he made a kill,” Grandpa finishes for him.  

“No,” Sam exclaims, as if his horror over the matter can make it simply untrue. “That guy’s not even human!” 

Grandpa scratches his cheek. “I don’t know that humanity’s a requirement. Not exactly a lot of precedent – most vampires don’t exactly wait to start feeding.” 

“B-but, the comic book said—" 

“I told you before, this isn’t one of your comics.” Michael’s done talking now. The longer he stays, the harder this will be. There’s no way back. And what he is now is still him enough that it doesn’t want to eat any of the people here. Except Rambo #1 and Rambo #2; if he’s honest, he doesn’t feel a thing at the idea of eating them. But Sam will be sad, and this is going to mess him up enough without Michael chowing down on his friends right in front of him before he hits the road. 

Michael turns back to David’s corpse. It seems wrong to leave him here like this, to be buried in the back forty or left out on the lawn to meet the rising sun. There’s not much left of the others, but he can take David home. He gets one arm under David’s shoulders and one under his thighs and lifts him off the horns, which slip free from his chest with an unpleasant squelch, dark blood running down the horns and dripping onto the floor as David lies limp in his arms like the inverse image of a bride. 

He allows himself one backwards glance over his shoulder, his eye gleaming blue-yellow-blue as he drinks in the stricken realisation on his mother’s face, the confusion on Sam’s, the grim lines of acceptance across Grandpa’s features. “Don’t try and follow me,” he declares. “It won’t end well for you.” He doesn’t look at Star at all. 

Michael strides out into the balmy night air with his burden and rises into the sky.  

#sometimes we murder our darlings literally #the lost boys #michael tlb #the lost boys 1987 #i wrote this in like 20 minutes in the bath #my writing stuff

[callsign-bunnie]

i'm b e g g i n g for a torture scene... wanna see Ghost be an absolute sadist... thank u kindly 🙏

Hahaha, so this is pretty graphic. Dead Dove Do Not Eat. This is a part 3 to this and here is part 2

--

Ghost picked up a bottle of bleach, slowly uncapping it. He didn't want to speak for this part. He just wanted to act.

He harshly pinched Shawn's nose and forced his head back, dumping the bleach down his throat. Shawn tried to fight it but Ghost had gotten good at clamping his hand over the nose and forcing the head back.

You could tell yourself you would close your mouth, but your body wouldn't listen.

When Ghost was done, Shawn immediately lurched forward, making Ghost jerk back. He vomited blood and bile all over himself and Ghost made a face. "Gross." He muttered, but continued with what he was doing.

When Shawn was done, he put tape over his mouth so he couldn't puke up anything else. "You made a mess." Ghost sighed.

Shawn's head fell back and he was staring at the ceiling, tears in his eyes. Ghost saw flashes of brown eyes doing the same and he decided he wanted those gone.

He didn't have a melon baller, the usual preferred tool for eye removal, but he did have a knife. Hell, he could just pop the suckers. He wasn't going to use them for anything.

So, he picked up a smaller knife and twisted it in his hand a little, looking over Shawn's face. He wanted the right angle for this, so he wouldn't have to put in that much work. Or... he could just stab the eyes over and over again.

So, that's what he did. He grabbed Shawn's forehead and looked down at him. Shawn's eyes stared at him with horrific confusion. "Left or right, first? Nevermind, you can't answer."

Ghost played eenie meenie miny moe with the knife, landing on the left eye. He shrugged and plunged the small knife into the socket, not going very deep in.

Shawn had tried to close his eyes but Ghost didn't care about his eye lids. He didn't need them intact, he just wanted it gone. He would have taken the other eye, too, but he wanted him to see what he was doing.

Tears spilled out of the other eye, mirroring the blood out of the left.

Finally, Ghost decided to speak again. All good torturers monologued, right? Even Ghost. "If you had just tortured him, I may have beat your ass and then killed you. But... no. You just had to go to the extreme. Do you know what it's like to be violated like that? To have your body invaded and you can't do anything to stop it?"

Shawn didn't even acknowledge his words. He hung his head, sobbing into the duct tape. His body made the motion of vomiting but then he was forced to swallow it back down, unable to release it through the duct tape.

Ghost watched him. Despite gladly doing it, he got no real enjoyment out of torture. Nothing besides the usual dopamine of filling a task. But now... now he did. He was enjoying torturing Shawn. He could hear, in perfect detail, Rodolfo's half sobs. His gasping, shuddering breath with each thrust.

He could see his body occasionally jerking with pain, his eyes going dull with violation.

Every night afterwards, waking up to screams and sobbing and pleading for the hands touching him to go away. His panic when Ghost would leave for too long. He could see him forcing himself to be so much smaller than he should be able to be in small areas, clutching a knife so tightly his knuckles would turn white.

Ghost had felt so helpless watching him because he truly couldn't do anything about it. His love was suffering and all he could do was watch him suffer. Ghost hated that feeling. He hated it more than anything. If he could drag up a million Shawns and torture them over and over again, he would. He'd do it in a heart beat.

But he only had one. And... sadly, he had to be home in time for dinner or Rodolfo would be upset. Even if he was torturing Shawn.

Ghost watched Shawn sob and he cracked his knuckles. He got the cables for the car battery and attached them to Shawn, knowing exactly where to attach them so they would hurt the most, but not kill him.

He waited to turn the battery on, though, and instead got out a scalpel. "Do you know what degloving is?" He asked, Shawn, lifting his head so he could see his reaction.

Shawn's eyes- correction. Eye widened with fear and horror and Ghost laughed. "I see. So you do. Well, I don't want to do the full arm. I want to just do little pieces. I did it once... a while ago. He also got the honor of being tortured by Simon, not Ghost."

He examined the scalpel and sighed, before setting it to Shawn's skin and slicing into it. He made careful parallel lines in the skin, notching every other space. Then, when he was done, he went back and slid the scalpel under the notches stripes, carefully swiping the scalpel back and forth, back and forth.

Shawn screamed through the tape, trying to jerk away from the sensation but Ghost only continued. Every other stripe, he would slide the scalpel back and forth until that particular strip was detached from the muscle. When he was done, he pulled off his gloves, needing his fingers to be less bulky, and deftly stuck two of them under the stripe of skin, tugging on it.

He held Shawn's arm down with his free hand, tired of his struggling, and continued to tug the skin, stretching it out carefully. When he was done, each stripe of skin hung loose, stretched thin by Ghost's fingers.

He admired his handiwork, playing with the skin. Then, he carefully mopped up the blood with a rag, trying not to rip any of the skin off. That was not what he wanted.

Shawn was sobbing again. It was pathetic. "Shut up. You earned this. All you had to do in life was not be a piece of fucking shit and you failed. You deserve this." Ghost growled at him.

Shawn avoided looking at him and continued to sob. Ghost shook his head. "You earned this." He reasserted. He looked into Shawn's remaining eye.

"You earned this." Ghost repeated. He ripped the tape off of Shawn's mouth and moved so he could puke again. "You earned this. Repeat it."

"I didn't earn this..." Shawn wheezed, bloody drool dripping down his chin. "Fuck you."

Ghost snarled and dug his fingers into one of the loose stripes of skin, eliciting screaming from Shawn and then more puking. "You. Earned. This."

"I earned this!" Shawn screamed, trying to jerk his arm away.

Ghost relaxed, pleased. He pulled away and wiped his hands with a cloth. "I'd keep going but it's four o'clock and Rodolfo has asked me so sweetly to be home for dinner. Which is six o'clock, usually. And it's a forty five minute drive away. If you can survive an hour of this, I'll let you go."

He went to the car battery, making sure it was properly hooked up.

"Please..." Shawn pleaded, shaking his head. "Please, I'll do anything..."

"I told you before. I don't want anything from you besides your screams of pain." Ghost glanced back at him. He flipped the switch and turned the battery on.

Shawn's entire body convulsed with the electricity and Ghost backed up. He washed his hands in a sink that was in the room, and then he looked at himself in the mirror. He usually avoided them but... he could handle it right now.

Rodolfo had touched over the scars many times. He'd asked about them, kissed them, caressed them. He had never made any horrified face, or really any face. And when he looked at Ghost, he never saw his eyes trace over them. He just looked at his face.

He only ever just saw his face.

Ghost looked over the scarred skin, realizing that he'd started to just see a face too. Touching the skin, he reveled in the new indifference at the skin. Though, he was unwilling to try to see if it extended to the rest of his skin.

He wasn't that brave, yet. As much as he'd like to be. Maybe one day.

When he was done cleaning up, he simply sat and waited for Shawn to die. When Shawn had died, which was rather quickly, he turned off the battery. Then, for good measure, he slit his throat.

Just in case.

And then he went home to get dinner.

#ghost x rodolfo #ghost cod #ghost gets to be sadistic #rodolfo cod #rodolfo parra #simon ghost riley #sadistic ghost #torture #dead dove do not eat #queue for dinner again hunny?

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

Henry VIII (La Monnaie De Munt, 2023): Reactions, Part II

let us continue!

nice cello ensemble also more shirtless extras because it’s a py production of course also also that is the least realistic looking horse i’ve seen in an opera since the infamous example in the toulouse 2017 le prophète

who doesn’t love pretty french opera orchestral music

big things of fabric!!!

“i’m gonna beat up that little fucker” -don gomez and all of us watching this opera

“he can’t even be a king right”

indeed it’s a fate worse than death for a TENOR to lose his GIRLFRIEND to a BARITONE

let’s see

and there you go

she’s so cute honestly

uh oh

well according to your own words, no one can control who they love

big mirrors! chandeliers! we love it!

YEAH

“sir i didn’t ask for this”

“the kiiiiiiiiiiiiiing of england is theeeeeeeeeeere inside your miiiiiiiiiiiiiiind”

“sir pls stop using weird sexual metaphors about my dream gf’s features”

well he certainly got to the point there!

GO OFF

changing the game ENTIRELY

don gomez just sitting in the corner like that’s where naughty henry viii-hating tenors go lmaoooooooo

OOF

it would be funny if it weren’t so painfully wrong

why is his laugh so cute tho

girls just wanna have fun (and power)

“uh…the crown on my head definitely DOESN’T mean i wanna replace you!”

“yeah no i don’t buy that”

OH DAMN

HENRY DO NOT FUCKING SHOOT CATHERINE

technically that is correct

✨tension✨

QUEEN FIGHT

BALLER

highly unlikely but it would be funny if anne shot henry

congrats henry you just confirmed ALL of her fears

“the pope’s too caught up in some dispute between two sculptors in rome to figure this out so i’m here instead. guess that’s gonna get made into an opera too”

low key callout post

yes sadly we know this

once again: GREAT ensemble writing

totally-not-symbolic cross falling (also HOW did they get it to fall at the EXACT right moment that thing has been hard attached to that wall for two acts)

anyway, to be continued later tonight!

#opera #opera tag #opera liveblog #henry viii #saint-saëns #camille saint-saëns #saint saëns #camille saint saëns #this continues to be excellent

[kegiostoyslut12345]

Collard Greens by ScHoolboy Q

Yeah, yeah, yeah Oh, oh Yo, yo

Oh, oh, luxury Chidi-ching-ching could buy anything, cop that Oh, oh, collard greens Three degrees low, make it hot for me, drop that Oh, oh, down with that shit Drink this, smoke this, get down with the shit, aye Oh, oh, down with the shit Cop this, pop this, down with the shit

Smoke this, drink this, straight to my liver Watch this, no tick, yeah, I'm the nigga Gang rap, X-mas, smoke, shots I deliver Faded, Vegas, might sponsor the killer Shake it, break it, hot-hot for the winter Drop it, cop it, eyes locked on your inner object Rock it, blast-blast, new beginnings Lovely, pinky how not I remember, fiendin' Give me, give me, give me some Freak the freckles off your face Frenchy, freakin', swappin' tongue Click my link and spread your buns Lose your denim, make it numb Blow it baby, no Saddam (Icky-icky, icky-icky) Fuckin' in the car service, thank me for the car pool Chromosome, part full, prolly off a Norco And gas, not the Arco, popping since the intro You shoppin' from the window, play my favorite tempo

Oh, oh, luxury Chidi-ching-ching could buy anything, cop that Oh, oh, collard greens Three degrees low, make it hot for me, drop that Oh, oh, down with that shit, drink this Smoke this, get down with the shit, aye Oh, oh, down with the shit Cop this, pop this, down with the shit

Hold up, biatch, this your favorite song Translation, Ven aqui, mami, ese culo Tu quieres cojer mis huevos, y papi me desespero Chuparse puto pendejo, el pinche cabron Let's get it, nights like this, I'm a knight like this Sword in my hand, I fight like this And I'm more than a man, I'm a God Bitch, touche, en garde Toupée drop and her two tits pop out of that tank top and bra And when I say "Doo-doo, doo-doo, " bitch, that be K. Dot She want some more of this, I give her more of this, I owe her this In fact, I know she miss the way I floored this, I'm forgis I know my Houston partners, drop a four on this And focus, and slow it down, alright, let me blow this bitch

I'm famous, I blame this on you, cash in the mirror Hang in my penthouse roof, skyline the clearest Watch it, your optics, popping out, you look the weirdest Pop my top on the 105, head with no power steering, ah!

Oh, oh, luxury Chidi-ching-ching could buy anything, cop that Oh, oh, collard greens Three degrees low, make it hot for me, drop that Oh, oh, down with that shit Drink this, smoke this, get down with the shit, aye Oh, oh, down with the shit Cop this, pop this, down with the shit

Bummy nigga famous, straight from the bottom Broke niggas hate it, still never robbed him Guns in the basement, out they have a problem Kush be my fragrance, we love marijuana Function on fire, burn the roof off this motherfucker Psych ward is ballin', go craze like no other Weed steady blowin', pass the blunt to my momma Runs in the family, puff-puff keep a nigga fiendin' Faded, faded-faded right Shot glass super size, she gon' get some dick tonight Meet me at the W, and no it's not the Westside Stick it up ya Southside (Icky-icky, icky-icky) Baller futuristic, groovy gangsta with an attitude What these niggas make a year, I spend that on my daughter shoes Smokin' weed and drinkin', all the college students loving Q We gon' turn it out until the neighbors wanna party too

Oh, oh, luxury Chidi-ching-ching could buy anything, cop that Oh, oh, collard greens Three degrees low, make it hot for me, drop that Oh, oh, down with that shit Drink this, smoke this, get down with the shit, aye Oh, oh, down with the shit Cop this, pop this, down with the shit, oh

[ookaookaooka]

only 424 more hours of gameplay to go before the battle against vecna the ascended

#must... resist... urge to skip ahead.... #that fight looks BALLER and i wanna watch it #theyve been stuck in the underdark/dwarf mine thing for like eight episodes #but i wanna experience it with Context... #critical role

[seijuroww]

good morning it is 4 am and I am crying over kurapika

#this is what I get for thinking it would be good to rewatch the Yorknew arc #specifically the uvo vs kurapika fight #which like that fight is BALLER I was smiling the entire time #heart going KURAPIKA KURAPIKA!!! #but then the end when he’s all upset :( #and then once I got to like the final episodes of that arc when he’s all sick #like baby I just wanna protect you !!!!! #he looked so happy to watch gon train #kurapika let me hold you !!!! #I love you so much #my whole world🥺 #oh to be in the hxh world protecting and loving kurapika #I am emotional tonight

[knowlesian]

quick thoughts about the use of Wherever You Go, There You Are as an episode title because i really do think it ties in with the duality of the lighthouse (yes, i said the duality of the lighthouse. i will also be screaming about the goddamned lighthouse later believe you me) and the reason why this episode ended on stede’s hope and not ed’s despair and that really fucking matters.

okay so! ‘wherever you go, there you are’ is one of those litmus test statements where the meaning you pull from it depends on your own personal shit. 

on one hand, it’s an acknowledgment that we can never truly hide or run away from the things that are eating us alive and keeping us up at night. wherever you go, there you are. your past, your demons. your ex-almost who kissed you back and cracked you open when you exposed your soft underbelly then left you there to bleed out into the sand. you know! typical gay pirate stuff.

so that’s obviously where ed’s at when the series ends. he’s got his adorable trash panda facepaint instead of breakup bangs, he’s thrown away his delusions of deserving finer things along with the scrap of red silk. he’s removed everything that would remind him ed still lives inside blackbeard (save the lighthouse, oh the DUALITY) and he is gonna be the goddamned krakeny-est kraken the world has ever seen. just you fucking watch him stede!!! and so on. 

pretty fucking depressing, BUT WAIT.

Wherever You Go, There You Are is also a self-help book from the 90′s by jon kabat-zinn about mindfulness. the granular details aren’t super important here but given stede’s the character we end on and the rule of good writers care about scene placement, i think the overall message of the book matters and tells us where this story is going next for ed and stede.

honestly, let me just drop a quote from it here.

Guess what? When it comes right down to it, wherever you go, there you are. Whatever you wind up doing, that’s what you’ve wound up doing. Whatever you are thinking right now, that’s what’s on your mind. Whatever has happened to you, it has already happened. The important question is, how are you going to handle it? In other words, “Now what?”

so yeah: now what? to answer that question, we have to look at stede. 

while ed’s hanging out in the belly of the whale because stede abandoning him is literal worst nightmare material, stede left because chauncey took his own worst fears out and put them on parade. (this writing team, man. fuck 'em all, what absolute monsters i love them but i just wanna talk, etc.) 

left to his own devices ed spiraled off into fuckin’ izzy’s waiting arms and that’s ten kinkmeme fills in a trenchcoat and i love it, but i digress. ed ran to his evil ex, but thank god stede ran straight to mary and tried to correct what he assumed was his original sin: leaving at all.

and since mary is not an evil ex, she’s a fucking baller, she sets stede right. of all the things he fucked up, leaving’s not on the list. leaving the way he did, yes, but leaving to become a pirate was the best choice he’s ever made in his life. i’ve got a lot of feelings about the way mary functions both as a guide out of the darkness and autonomous character who gets to point out how hard she got fucked over that are (sing it with me) for another post, but essentially the symbolism of the way stede’s honesty set him free and the whole family participating in the fuckery after that is killing me.

all that is to say: ed’s still lost in the dark but stede, who has vacated the belly of the beast and literally killed the man he used to be, is ready to fight to drag ed back out. we can spin the metaphor wheel: stede has shed his skin, left the cocoon to become his truest bizarre butterfly self, he has entered and exited the underworld, he is an ex-ex pirate. even better, with mary’s help and her blessing tucked in his back pocket when he left he didn’t look back.

so, having passed go and collected his 200 emotional literacy dollars, stede has followed Wherever You Go, There You Are’s advice. he asked himself “now what?” and his now what is ed, so he’s off to tell the man he loves about the life he’s found outside the cave.

stede is about to be this man’s flashlight AND his treasure map. it’s gonna be so, so good.

#our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #blackbonnet #i spun the metaphor wheel and i chose EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. #honestly everyone is lucky this post isn't just all caps #i'm so fucking HYPED #god i just have so much to fucking say about this show where do i even start???? #i need to talk about jim and olu and why lucius is alive literally zero chance he is dead #z e r o #anyway yeah #i gotta go like... eat food. #but then more screaming. #also if you didn't hear 'oh the DUALITY' like i was yelling oh the HUMANITY #you should have. #because i did #my ofmd meta #the silly/genius intersectional muppet extravaganza

[ragingbookdragon]

These Words You Should Always Remember: To You, My Heart I Surrender

Batsis x Ghost-Maker One-Shot

Word Count: 4.6 Warnings: Explicit Language, Violence, Angst

Author's Note: This wasn't supposed to be 4K words y'all. I swear. But y'all better love me for it. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

There were the occasional sounds of fists meeting faces and shins hitting sides echoing in her ears, but she paid them no mind, eyes trained on the screen before her. She was content to let her brother and oldest friend beat the ever-living shit out of each other if it meant they’d eventually put their feelings aside and make up. Of course, it was a long-shot pipe dream and one not so easily reached—she could hope though.

Over the sound of the continual fighting came footsteps, followed by, “Aunt (Y/N). How’s it hangin’?”

Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at her second nephew. “Jason,” she greeted warmly, and he bent down beside her, letting her press a kiss to his temple. “What are you doing here so late? I thought you and Roy were going to Panama City tomorrow? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

He shrugged. “Plane leaves in the morning. Figured I’d hang around here for the night to say a couple ‘see you laters’.” Jason’s eyes followed the screen. “Is that the human trafficking ring out of Saint Petersburg?”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) answered, turning to click at the mouse. “Some lawyers from the courts around here got caught in a hotel room with a few of the girls.”

Someone new appeared in her peripheral, two people actually, Tim and Dick. “Didn’t they arrest everybody in the hotel room?” Tim asked, propping his chin on her shoulder.

She reached up and scratched his scalp the way he liked. “They did. The girls were sent to a secure facility for treatment and the lawyers have unsurprisingly lawyered up. None of them are talking.” (Y/N) clicked on the screen, opening a tab that led to an interrogation room. “Gordon’s not having any luck. Whoever’s running this operation is obviously terrifying enough that none of these guys are cracking. Even with the threat of getting sent to prison for life.”

“Want some help?” Dick offered and she shook her head.

“Nah. We adults have it.” (Y/N) looked at them and smiled. “You guys go do what young people do. Hang out with your friends, drink, party, be young.”

“I feel like you’re saying that to the wrong trio,” Tim said. “None of us drink except Jason and even then, none of us party.”

She shook her head again, this time in shame. “God, you people need to live.”

Jason happened to glance over her head, and he frowned. “Speaking of needing to live…you might wanna stop Bruce and GM from killing one another.”

(Y/N) turned in the direction of her friend and brother and sighed. “Am I a terrible person for considering letting them punch each other unconscious?”

“Nope!” came unified response and she chuckled, rising from her seat.

“Thought so,” she said, walking over to where Bruce and Ghost-Maker were about to go at it again.

She stepped in between them, gracefully dodging a throw punch and a kicked-out leg, shoving both of them back in return. “Hey, enough.”

“Move.” Bruce commanded and she glared at him.

“I said, enough.” Her head turned to Ghost-Maker. “We all know this little sparring match has gone a bit farther than just training.”

“No one’s getting hurt, (Y/N).” Ghost-Maker said, and she narrowed her eyes.

“Maybe not right now, but someone will get hurt and we don’t need that.” She pointed to the opposite ends of the room. “Separate and cool off. Both of you.”

Seeing that she wasn’t going to budge, Bruce let out a puff of air and turned, striding into the showers, leaving her and the other man on the mats. (Y/N) sighed quietly, rubbing her temples, and griped, “I swear you both make it so difficult to be around.”

“Only because he lets his emotions get in the way.”

(Y/N) looked up at him, watching as he wiped the sweat from his face. She caught his hand. “You busted your knuckles.”

“I’ll be fine.” He started to pull away and she tightened her grip.

“Don’t even start with me, Ghost.” She tugged him to the med bay and shoved him towards a seat. “Sit.” He obeyed, though she could tell he was probably making a face at her, and she busied herself with finding the antiseptic and some wraps.

Turning back around, she perched herself on the desk and placed his hand in her lap, gently wiping the blood and dirt away from the wounds; then she set the rag aside and wrapped his knuckles with the fresh gauze, carefully, as if he were made of glass.

When she was finished, she couldn’t help but do the childish thing she’d come up with all those years ago during their training; (Y/N) softly rubbed her thumbs over his knuckles, blowing quietly, then she murmured, “There. All healed.”

A rare smile came over his lips, though she could tell it was more of a sneer than one. “You’re still doing that?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and shoved his hand off her legs. “Yes. How do you think I managed to heal all the wounds me and the family have gotten over the years?”

“Hmm, stitches and alcohol.”

“Smart-ass,” she grunted, rising to her feet. “You hungry?”

Ghost-Maker stood from his seat. “No. I have to get back to The Haunt.”

“Hot date waiting?” (Y/N) cracked, elbowing him in the side and he snorted.

“No. I need to read up on the information Icon’s run through since I’ve been gone.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, gazing at him. “You know I’m doing that right now with our scans, right?”

“Of course, I do. But you’re not Icon.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Great, I’ve been beaten by an AI.”

“An AI that I designed.” Ghost-Maker added, and she glared at him for a moment before chuckling.

“With fear, so I’ve heard.”

He shrugged. “I figured I would give him the one thing I lack.” He looked over at her. “Do you want to come with me?”

She wanted to, but she sighed heavily. “I can’t.” her eyes found the shower room door. “Someone needs to stay behind and talk to him.”

“I’m not surprised you’re staying.”

It was all he said before he disappeared from her sight and (Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek as something aching tugged deep in her chest. She hated how easy it was for her to understand when Ghost-Maker was disappointed in her decisions. How easy it was for him to impact her feelings. It’d been almost two decades since they actually held real conversations and every memory of the time they’d spent together, her, him, and her brother came back to her. Every moment of watching the two boys go head-to-head, and her torn between her family and the man she loved—it’d always been that way…and sometimes she wished she were like Ghost-Maker, unfeeling of love and empathy.

She shook herself from her stupor and walked into the locker room, leaning against the wall of the closed shower door; she could see his feet beneath the door. “Why do you always let yourself get so angry when it comes to Ghost?”

“You know why.” Bruce retorted. “You know how he is.”

“And I know how you are,” (Y/N) countered. “Yet you refuse to admit that on some level he’s got good points.”

He stuck his hand out from the opening of the door. “Towel.” She waited. “Please.”

Handing it over, she said, “You and I both know the longer we do this the darker it gets…the darker we get.”

“I’m not killing people, (Y/N).” Bruce griped as he stepped out of the shower, the towel around his waist. He’d busted his eyebrow and lip.

“I’m not saying you have to, Bruce. I wouldn’t expect you to. All I’m saying is you won’t admit that Ghost is right about things.”

“About what!” He shouted, turning on her. “That I should just start slitting throats up and down the street! That I should give up what we started as children! What (Y/N)!”

She merely stared at him amidst his yelling and then she calmly stated, “That you can’t save everyone.” He didn’t react, just looked at her as she explained, “You are so hellbent on the idea that everyone can have a moral redemption arc, but the truth is that not everyone has one nor does everyone deserve one.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “Sometimes I think Ghost was right. Trying to save everyone? Giving up every part of myself to make sure everyone lives? He was right. It eats until there’s nothing left inside you.”

“So what? You’re going to stop saving people?”

“Don’t be an idiot, Bruce.” She gave him a sharp look and said, “I’m going to stop saving the people who don’t deserve saving. And if that means I let someone bad die? I can live with that.” Walking off, she ignored him as he called out for her to stop, leaving him alone.

***

The little hovering tray floated into her peripheral and she blinked, turning to look at it. “Good evening, Miss Wayne. Refreshments?”

She smiled, plucking a champagne glass off along with a few grapes and cheese slices. “Thanks Icon.”

“You’re welcome.” The tray wandered off and she walked over to where he was sitting down, silently reading through the reports.

“Find anything interesting?” she asked, popping a grape in her mouth as she nudged his elbow off the armrest to perch on it herself. His arm unconsciously rested around her waist, fingers brushing the side of her pants.

“Leonidovich is having a party tonight.”

(Y/N) hummed, watching as he clicked through the pictures of the party’s setup. “Big place. Open. Good for plain clothed security to get around in.” she narrowed her gaze. “This is the ball room of the Winter Nebula Hotel. Who’s renting out the penthouse?”

Ghost-Maker smirked. “Our host for the party.”

She nodded. “Then that’s where the real party is going to be tonight.” Glancing at him, she asked. “Any big ballers on the VIP list?”

“Oh, a few internationally wanted arms and drug dealers.” He looked at the screen. “Leonidovich picked up a new shipment of girls earlier. He’s probably going to make a deal with the dealers tonight in exchange for them.”

(Y/N) nodded. “I guess it’s time to put our noses to the grind then.” She shimmied off the seat and started towards the closet. “Have any dresses back here?”

“You’re going inside?” he questioned, almost sounding surprised.

“Well, you can’t go it,” she retorted. “Your wily ways of fucking and flying means that people know your face.”

“Half of it.”

(Y/N) stuck her head out from the curtain, neck, and shoulders bare. “You’re not going to go in without your mask on. We both know that.” She pulled back in, grunting and shuffling around until she was finished.

Pulling open the curtain, she stepped out in a thigh length white heart-bodice dress, form fitting to her body and off the shoulders. (Y/N) slipped in the black metal teardrop earrings. “Part of me wants to ask why you have female clothing in your closet, but the other part wants to ask why on God’s green earth do you have to buy everything in white.”

Her face pinched. “It’s sterile. At least paint some gray in here somewhere, Jesus.” Ghost-Maker merely chuckled at her complaints and stepped behind her, gently placing something around her neck. “What are you—”

He let the black necklace fall to her chest and gently grabbed her chin, the other plucking a small device from the tray that Icon had next to them. Maneuvering her head to the side, he reached up and stuck it behind her ear, snug and out of sight. “Your hair should cover it,” he said.

“What is ‘it’?” (Y/N) asked.

“Listening device.” Ghost-Maker nodded to the screen, and she looked over, seeing a black box on the screen with a marker that was ticking. He raised his fingers to her ear and snapped; the blue marker etched with the sound, and she couldn’t help but feel impressed.

“Nicely designed, Ghost.” She remarked, glancing back at him. “Get my invitation?”

“It’s printing.” He met her eyes. “You need to be careful.”

(Y/N) knew he was being serious, but she couldn’t help but mess with him a bit. She smirked. “Why, Ghost, are you worried that I can’t handle a bunch of international criminals by myself? Me? That mighty Widow-Maker?”

“I’m not worried about you.” He said, and it hurt a lot more than she expected it too. “But I’d be down a sparring partner if you got yourself killed.”

She blinked at him. “I’m not sure what’s more upsetting—that you only think of me as a sparring partner or that you legitimately think I can’t do this by myself.” (Y/N) tipped her head. “Ghost, I’ve got this.” He opened his mouth to say something, but she turned away, walking to the door. “Where will you be tonight?”

He watched her back. “I’ll be doing what I do best. Surveying until you get into the penthouse.”

“You can’t bust in until I get enough on Leonidovich to have him arrested.”

“I’m not going to arrest him, (Y/N).” She turned, staring at him, but she said nothing, and he cocked a brow. “You’re not going to stop me?”

Her gaze fell to the tile floor, and she shrugged. “I don’t think I can, even if I tried to.” She let out a breath and turned. “Good luck tonight.”

***

To a novice, the party would’ve just been a normal high-class function, but to her knowing eyes, both from her own billionaire life and her vigilantism, this party was crawling with criminals. She’d caught at least seven drug deals go down in the past five minutes since she walked in, and at least nine men went off with escorts.

She inconspicuously grabbed a champagne chute from a waiter’s tray and sipped it lightly, scanning the room for Leonidovich. He was in the corner of the room, sitting next to a few women who (Y/N) recognized from the missing persons in Gotham.

His eyes flashed to hers and she gave him a flirty wink, disappearing to the bar, knowing he was going to take the bait. Sure enough, a hand touched the small of her back and she hummed as his lips brushed her ear. “I wasn’t expecting a goddess like you to come to this party tonight.”

She smiled and leaned back into his chest. “This goddess goes where she pleases.” Tipping her head slightly, she caught his eye. “And where her boss will find the best deals.”

“Deals, hmm?” he hummed. “What kind of deals are you expecting?”

(Y/N) smiled. “Oh, the ones where lots of money is involved…and merchandise.”

He gazed at her for a few moments then murmured in her ear, “The code word for entrance to the penthouse is ‘подземный мир’.”

“I’ll remember.” Leonidovich pulled from her with a smile and disappeared into the crowd. Something made her want to shiver from disgust, but she concealed it, watching and waiting for him to enter the elevator.

When he did, she waited another few minutes before walking over to it; the security stopped her and she cocked a brow, muttering, “подземный мир.”

The two guards looked at each other then stepped aside, letting her into the elevator. Another guard was inside, and she smiled politely as she stepped in, glancing at the little panel as it blinked.

It dinged, signaling their arrival and when the doors opened, she was greeted by an extravagant penthouse. To her surprise, there weren’t many people inside, just Leonidovich and his personal entourage.

“Ah, you’ve come,” he greeted, holding out a hand.

She took it, letting him place a kiss to her knuckles. “I told you, this goddess goes where she pleases and where she’s needed.” Looking around, she murmured, “My boss would prefer our business done alone. Is that possible?”

The guards seemed to turn even frostier but Leonidovich merely chuckled, nodding his head as he let her go and gestured to a side door. “The office is just through those doors. We can draw up a contract.” He turned to his thugs. “Wait here.”

(Y/N) nodded, following him as he led her into the office, noting how he locked the door, and he motioned to a chair in front of the desk. “Please, sit.”

Taking her seat, she crossed a leg over her knee. “You wouldn’t happen to have something to drink, would you?”

“What can I offer you?”

“Vodka.”

He chuckled. “Ah, a woman after my own heart.” He waltzed over to the bar and poured them both glasses, walking back to hand her hers. “Here you are.”

(Y/N) took it and clinked her glass to his. “ваше здоровье.”

They both downed their glasses and for effect, she held her façade. “You speak and drink like a true daughter of Russia.”

She smiled. “I’ve had more than a few drinks with many sons of Russia.” Glancing out the window, she added, “My boss is interested in your inventory. A few of them actually.”

Leonidovich hummed, turning back to wander over to the drink counter. “Tell me about your boss.”

“He’s a multi-billionaire out of Hong-Kong. Made his fortune by building cell towers and selling opium on the side.”

“Opium is a highly sought-after drug.”

“That it is,” (Y/N) agreed. “He’s been branching out into Kolkata, wanting to get into the spice trade.” She gazed into her empty glass, staring at her reflection. “But the men over there want something in return…more than money, if you catch my drift.”

“I do.” He said, matter of factly. “Perhaps I can offer them something better.”

“And what would that be?” almost there. She thought, but she never expected—

“You.”

(Y/N) turned her head just as he swung his arm as hard as he could, the vodka bottle in his grasp. She barely even had time for her eyes to widen when it collided with her temple, shattering into a thousand shards, cutting deep into her skin.

She fell out of her seat and hit the ground, dazed and in a massive amount of pain. Reaching up, she felt the blood pouring from her head and she sucked in a shuddering breath, trying to wipe away the fluid from her eyes so she could see.

Of course, he didn’t give her time because he was pressing his knee into her back, fingers yanking the listening device from behind her ear. Leonidovich glared at it and smashed it between his fingers. “I know who you are working for. I’ve seen this tech before.”

(Y/N) rolled onto her back, throwing out her elbow, which to give her credit, she did catch him in the jaw, but he was quick to respond, punching her across the face. Blood pooled in her mouth, and she spat at him, then his hands were winding around her throat, squeezing tightly. It reminded her of the training in the Amazons where she had to learn to uncoil anacondas from her body.

His grip became tighter and tighter just like the reptiles and she bared her teeth as she tried to suck in air, digging her nails into the flesh of his hands, his wrists, anything she could scratch at. He was heavy enough that she couldn’t flip him and with the dress tight around her thighs, she couldn’t cock her legs up to his shoulders or waist to get any distance between them.

She gasped when he put his knee in her stomach and that was the last bit of air she had to hold in. Her lungs started burning, begging her for air she felt the panic starting to rise in her as she thrashed beneath him, trying to throw him just an inch, but nothing was working.

Dark spots started to ebb out from the corner of her vision and like the phrase had come alive, she saw every moment of her life flash before her eyes. Every wrong decision, every right one. Every goodbye, every hello. Every person she’d ever lost and every one she’d ever saved. Her nephews’ and nieces’ faces darted across her vision followed by Bruce’s and then his.

She didn’t want to die now. Not since he’d come back to see them after so long. She wanted to stay. Wanted to tell him she loved him, even if she knew he would never be able to feel the same. She wanted to live.

Gunshots sounded from the outside, but they were like whispers as her eyelids started to droop shut, brain fogging from the lack of oxygen. Her hands started to go slack as the door was kicked in and as her arms went limp, something damp splattered across her face and the weight of Leonidovich’s body fell away.

(Y/N) sucked in a lungful of air and rolled, with what strength she’d received from the freedom, over onto her side, coughing violently. Her head was swimming with pain and her brain felt like someone had taken a mallet to an overripe melon.

Someone gripped her shoulder and she screeched, flailing on them when they grabbed her wrists. “(Y/N). It’s me.” They pulled her against them, folding her to their chest and placed a hand to the back of her head. “You’re safe.”

Sandalwood and metal oil wafted up her nose and she heard the familiar hum of his suit. “K?” she breathed, terrified to pull away and look at him.

His thumb caressed the back of her head. “It’s me, (Y/N).”

Something broke inside her and she buried her face in his cloak, sobs wracking her body as she clung to him. Words passed her lips, and she wasn’t sure what she was saying but it didn’t matter because all she could think about was how he’d saved her in the nick of time. The man she’d turned her back on at twenty to go home with her brother, had saved her again.

***

When she awoke, she sat up straight in the bed, vaguely unaware of how she’d gotten there in the first place. She started to move when she heard, “I wouldn’t get up if I were you.”

Stilling, she looked over, seeing Ghost-Maker with a book in his hands. Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, one of his favorites. When they used to train together when they were children, they used to lie under the stars, and he’d tell her all about how each chapter in the book had been devoted to a different art of warfare; she loved how passionate he would get when he talked about it.

“What happened?” she asked, fingers twitching against her side where it had started to ache.

“You were found out and almost strangled to death in penthouse suit.” He snapped the book shut. “When the bug went down, I moved in and took care of the criminals in the suite before killing Leonidovich and saving your life.”

(Y/N) frowned as he set the book down and leaned over, checking inside the bandage that was wrapped around her head. “Thank you.” Her eyes found his behind his mask. “What happened after?”

“You don’t remember?” he inquired curiously, and she tried to shake her head, but his grip was firm, keeping her in place.

“No. I remember you saving me but everything after that is a giant blur.” Suddenly she felt too transparent and pulled from his hands, turning her back to him as she threw her legs over the side of the bed. She rested a split second and stood, though his earlier warning rang in her ears as her knees buckled beneath her, head swimming.

He was there in an instant, arms wrapped around her waist as he caught her, lowering her back onto the bed. “I told you not to move.”

(Y/N) grunted at him and when he moved to pull away, she held on, resting her head on his shoulder. “Just…wait, K.” She whispered softly. “Please, just a moment.”

Ghost-Maker didn’t move though she felt the way he tensed at the first letter of his name. “You called me ‘K’ back there too.”

“I was relieved to see you.”

“And what you said afterwards?” She fell silent. “You don’t remember, do you?”

(Y/N)’s lips pulled downwards. “I have an idea of what I said. But I doubt you’ve been oblivious to it all these years.”

“Why do you love me?” he inquired, and from the tone of his voice he was either genuinely curious or completely baffled, she was hoping for the former and not the latter.

She turned her head, ignoring the prickling of pain as her temple brushed his shoulder, and pressed her forehead into his neck. “Because you saw who I was when no one else did.” Tears started swimming in her vision, and she reached up, curling her hand in his suit jacket. “I love you because you’re you, K. Because you’re my oldest friend and the one who’s always known me.”

Ghost-Maker closed his hand around the one in his suit and fell silent for a long while and (Y/N) stayed quiet too, simply letting the tears fall from her cheeks to the skin of his collarbone, her lips quivering against his skin.

“I can’t love you the way you love me.” He finally admitted.

(Y/N) blinked the tears away, whispering, “I know.” She started to pull away from him, reaching up to wipe her eyes. “I’m sorry, K.” It was hard to look at him, but she managed it, barely. “Just…give me some time and let me work through all,” she gestured around herself, her heart, and her head. “This.”

“You’re not angry at me.” He remarked and her brows furrowed.

“Of course not. Why would I be?”

“Because I don’t feel what you do. Love.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh despite the heartache. “K, I’m not going to get angry because you don’t feel love.” She reached up and placed a hand to his cheek, her thumb brushing against the fabric he kept covering his nose and eyes. “I know that in your own way you do care. Even if it’s not love.” Her hand shifted and she ran her thumb over his lips. “I can live with that.”

Ghost-Maker slid his hand up the side of her neck, pulling her to him; he pressed his lips to hers and she closed her eyes, letting herself be lost in the bliss of the moment, if only for a moment, then she pulled away and opened her eyes, gazing at him.

She offered him a sad smile and managed to find her feet again, rising from the bed, leaving him there. “I’ll see you sometime soon, K.” she said, walking to the door.

“Do you want me to call Bruce to pick you up?”

“No. I’ll walk for a bit.” (Y/N) got to the door and stopped, pausing to look back at him. “K?”

He glanced over, meeting her gaze. “Hmm?”

“Do you know what my biggest regret is?”

“I don’t.”

(Y/N) grimaced. “It was leaving you.” Even behind his mask, she knew the surprise was in his eyes; she knew him that well. “And if I could do it all over again…I’d stay with you instead of getting on the plane that night.”

Ghost-Maker looked shocked for a moment, then it gave way to a smile. A real smile. One she hadn’t seen in years from him. “I think I would liked that.”

“Goodnight K.”

“Goodnight (Y/N). Stay safe.”

#batfamily x reader #batfamily x reader imagines #batfamily x reader imagine #batfamily imagines #batfamily imagine #batfamily #batsis x batfamily #batsis x batfamily imagine #batsis x batfamily imagines #batfamily x batsis imagine #batfamily x batsis imagines #batfamily x batsis #batsis imagines #batsis imagine #ghost maker x reader #ghost maker x reader imagines #ghost maker x reader imagine #ghost maker imagines #ghost maker imagine #ghostmaker #ghost maker dc #ghost maker #ghost-maker x reader #ghost-maker x reader imagines #ghost-maker x reader imagine #ghost-maker imagines #ghost-maker imagine #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson

[passionesolja]

Swtor turned me into a cold hearted capitalist

So I gotta take us to the beginning.

I start the game. I’m dead broke and dunno what the fuck I’m doing.

Dawg, I just be watching mfs throw around 1b in trading and gtn and I’m fighting for my mf life to get 500k.

A really nice person here on tumblr hooks me up with some items and 1m (95% these items I still use, especially the lightsabers) shout out @heralpacaflower btw frfr

I finally can buy a sith Pureblood imp agent (the mf dream)

I be playing around.

Some dude gives me 500m credits.

I’m not stingy with these credits, anything I want (within reason) I buy.

Time flies. I get down to 200m credits.

However, I know about cartel item flipping.

I say “fuck it, I like the game a lot, I’ll spend like 5$ on cartel coins just this once”

I get the Steadfast Master’s Robe armor set.

Oh my god, dawg, this is big, this is my ticket to 1B credits.

I sell it for 777m but not before I intentionally raise everybody else’s on gtn selling price to sub 850m bc they wanna lowball me. So I check and as soon as I see a mf selling for 840m, I retract and lower my new asking price to 777m. Genius move tbh

The GTN market takes a huge cut—holy fuck why are they taking my credits? Ain’t like mfs got taxes in this game—I’m fine tho.

My other objects start selling.

Now I’m at 990m. 10m away from being in the upper percentage of ballers. I can buy damn near anything I want.

However, I’m now mentally more stingy with my credits. It’s like my mind is like “you have 5 dollars” meanwhile when I had 500, I would spend on whatever.

Granted, I got pretty much everything I wanted and I only main imp agent so it’s not like I got a lot on my wishlist (outside that gnarly looking imp trooper armor)

But yeah, that’s been my experience.

The selling part of the game is becoming more fun to me than a lot of the other classes if that says anything.

A bitch a cash money baller and Jeff Bezos style capitalist now

#star wars #sw #swtor #swtor meta #my swtor #swtor guide #game: swtor #swtor spoilers #swtor meme #swtor stuff

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 12

Day 12 - You meet your soulmate in your dreams every night.

Pairing(s): Romantic Remile, Romantic Moceit, Romantic Dukexiety, Past Romantic Dukeceit

TWs: sexual language, mentions of childbirth, Remus being Remus, swearing

--

Emile Picani knew something was up with his soulmate.

Their link, as almost all did, formed when they were twelve. And right off the bat, when his soulmate kept flitting in and out of sight, he knew their first meeting would be interesting. Emile had sat up from his dream bed to see a young boy with raven hair that shone a dazzling blue in the light, and pale skin adorned with freckles that stood out like stars in the night sky. 

So sue him, Emile was going through a poetic phase. 

He’d walked over to start up the conversation, “Soulmate! Do you, how do? My name’s-”

Was as far as he got before the boy disappeared. At first, Emile panicked; what happened?! Did his soulmate hate him on sight and wake up-

Oh, there he is.

The boy reappeared, taking in Emile as he looked him up and down with his mocha coloured eyes, “Oh, you’re still here, babes. Cool.”

Huh. Interesting response, but Emile trusted in fate, extending a hand again, “As I was saying before you got spirited away, I’m Emile Picani! What’s your name?”

“Nice Ghibli reference. I’m Remy Duke,”, he yawned, reaching for Emile’s hand lazily, “Nice to meet you. So like, you’re my soulmate? I’m like, not just dreaming?”

Emile shook his head, “Nope! It’s really me! I hope you’re not disappointed- Ah, sorry, my pops says I shouldn’t say stuff like that-”

“He’s right, you shouldn’t.”, was the blunt response he got.

Sensing that he might’ve made his soulmate uncomfortable, Remy elaborated, “My ren says you should totes avoid negative thinking. Like, if you keep thinking you’re disappointing me, you’re only gonna like, reinforce that idea. And being that anxious is not a good look on you, sweetie.”

Emile wasn’t sure what to think, but the advice made him feel… really happy, actually. His soulmate cares! He went to thank him, but Remy had disappeared again. Dang. Emile waited until Remy returned, humming to himself when he heard his soulmate’s voice again,

“Whoa, you like Steven Universe?”

Emile’s smile glistened with delight that Remy had recognised the tune of Independant Together, “Yeah! Who’s your favourite character!? Mine’s Steven!! But if I had to pick a gem, I’d say Spinel’s my new favourite!” 

Remy rolled his eyes, but Emile read the gesture as a fond one, “Cool.” . He figured his soulmate wouldn’t answer further but then Remy continued, “I like Buck Dewey. He’s totes underrated. As for the gems, like, there’s no question babes. Garnet’s the best.”

Thankfully, Remy was able to stay for the rest of the night until the two of them realised it’d be morning soon.

“Oh, before you go, maybe we should find out where we both live! That way we can-”

Remy shook his head, “Nah babes. Let’s make this fun. It’s like, way too boring if we make things THAT easy.”. He noted how upset Emile looked and took pity, “Tell you what babes, how about every time we meet, we both get one yes or no question. Make it a game. First one to guess where the other lives wins.”

Emile smiled, mirroring Remy’s playful one, “Alright then! Can I go first?”

“As long as you’re quick babes.”

“Oh, right!”, Emile cleared his throat, “Are you in the US?”

With a dramatic, yet monotone sigh, Remy retorted, “Unfortunately-”

“Remyyyy!”, Emile chuckled, “You’re breaking your own rule. It’s yes or no, silly!”

Remy rolled his eyes, but the sigh he gave had nothing but fondness, “Alright, alright. Yes.”. He stretched his arms, “Same question to you babes, you stuck in this crapsack of a country too?”

“Yes.”, Emile answered, “Unfortunately.”

The chuckle he got back from Remy left him with a smile on his face as he awoke that morning. Emile wasted no time in brushing his teeth and heading to breakfast with a spring in his step to tell his fathers the great news. 

--

Unknowingly just a few miles away, another young lad awoke and dragged himself lazily down the stairs where his father and ren were having one of their early morning romantic tension arguments.

“The knife’s the pussy option, Virge!”, his father Remus had chided, shoving a handful of trix into his mouth with his bare hand, “Knives don’t do shit!”

Remy’s ren, Virgil, massaged their temples in frustration. Going by the shade of their face being somewhere between embarrassed tomato and devil’s asscrack crimson, Remy figured they’d been on this tangent for the last hour or so.

“What the FUCK do you mean ‘knives don’t do shit’?! It’s a fucking KNIFE, dipshit! What the fuck is a spoon gonna do!?”

Virgil yanked the cereal from Remus and began pouring him a proper bowl, to which the messy man scoffed, “Virge, you’re not thinking about the bigger picture!”

“What bigger picture?! We’re talking about which would be best in a casual alleyway fight, right?! Just bring a goddamn knife!”

Ah. 

Context. 

Gotta love it.

Remy walked undetected past the two of them to go digging in the hall closet dryer for his favourite shirt while his father made his case.

“That’s predictable, babe! You’re not thinking about the psychology of it, Virge!”, Remus protested, “Look, any bozo can grab a knife, big deal! Your chances of being intimidating with that alone are, what, four in ten?!”, he bullshitted, gesticulating wildly as he picked up a spoon, wielding it like a cutlass, “But if you pick a spoon!? Thats like saying “Hey I’m fuckin’ crazy”!! I’m not gonna go up against the mother fucker that picks a spoon! You know how crazy that looks!?”

“Very much so, yeah.”, Virgil deadpanned, making direct eye contact with Remus who returned that glare with a wink.

“Careful, last time you gave me that look, we had to start buying baby clothes.”

Virgil scoffed, but it was hard to hide the exhausted smirk they bore, “Oh fuck you. Take your cereal and sit down.”

Remus did neither of those things, instead wrapping his arms around Virgil’s waist and pulling them closer, “I mean, if you wanna-“

“Like, maybe we can keep the horny out of the kitchen?”, Remy piped up, watching his ren damn near leap out of their skin while his father burst into laughter.

“No promises!”, Remus jested, taking the bowl of cereal Virgil had made for him and downing it like he was chugging cheap beer at a frat party. Virgil sighed in exhaustion but gestured for Remy to have a seat at the table, “So, how’d your first soulmate dream go, Rem? Did you get a name?”

Remy slung himself into his usual seat at the table, “Yeah. His name’s Emile Picani.”

The immediate silence was palpable for a second, even Remus didn’t dare make a sound when Virgil spoke up, “Remus, wasn’t your ex’s name Janus Picani?”

Remy hadn’t seen his father in a flight or fight situation like this before; sure there was this one time in WalMart, but he didn’t have a melon baller, two packs of toilet paper, and a plunger at hand like that time. Instead, his father was armed only with a banana he had snatched from the fruit bowl and taken a bite of. With the peel still on. Speaking with his mouth full and earning a disgusted eye roll from his partner, Remus finally managed to offer a response.

--

“It’s probably not the same guy.”

Janus Picani unknowingly echoed his ex boyfriend under his breath, inaudible to his son. 

Of all the names Emile could’ve given, why’d the surname have to be Duke? He had never told his husband Patton about the whole ex-boyfriend thing; Janus thought it best no one ever knew lest he be judged harshly. Sure, he’d never exactly cared what others thought - and many did share his opinion that holding off ANY romantic or sexual activity until you met your soulmate wasn’t always entirely healthy or doable - but the idea of Patton possibly being let down or upset by the news…

Janus didn’t want to think about it. No, he wouldn’t entertain the thought. After all, he had breakfast to make, fried eggs to watch over, toast to be ready to butter when it popped up.

Besides, Duke was probably a common surname, right? 

Probably. 

Maybe.. 

Hopefully.

“Did Remy tell you where he lives, sweetie? We can always drive you over to meet him after school if it’s close enough!”, Patton chirped excitedly from the seat next to his son, unknowingly setting Janus even more on edge. 

Please say he’s across the country. Please say he’s in another state. Please say he’s ANYWHERE but close by-

“Oh, we’re making a game of it!”

Janus’ curiosity peaked, but his anxiety remained on hold just in case.

“Every time we meet, we get to ask one yes or no question, then whoever guesses the other’s location first wins! Isn’t that exciting!?”

His enthusiasm was contagious. Patton was practically bouncing in his chair, “Oh that’s so cute!! It’s just like a romcom!”, he began, then corrected, “Oh, unless you’re both platonic, don’t worry kiddo, that’s fine too-”

“Thanks popstar, but I um,”, Emile flushed a little, hiding in his pastel yellow cardigan, “I really like him. I know it’s dumb ‘cause we only just met but… but he’s so cool!”

Janus listened in on his son’s adorable recounting of the encounter; how the two had talked about cartoons for hours, and the oddity of Remy flickering back and forth from the soulscape at first. The curiosity in Janus won out as he finished cooking their breakfast and brought their plates to the table. 

“He sounds like a lovely young man,”, Janus led with, hoping to at least quell some of his fears, “Do we get to know what he looks like, perhaps?”

Patton gasped excitedly, “Yessss!! Then if we pass him on the street, we can say hello!”

Thankful for Patton’s backup, if not for the same reasons, Janus nodded and Emile enthusiastically took out his notebook to start trying to draw his soulmate from memory,

“Well, he’s got really gorgeous eyes! And lots of freckles!-”

His pencils were almost combusting at the sheer speed Emile was working up the more he got excited about his soulmate. His fathers both unknowingly thought back to his adoption; he’d been so shy at first, barely able to look either of them in the eye, but after just a couple of weeks being allowed to express himself creatively in ways he hadn’t been able to do before with his birth parents, Emile had grown into the same excitable young lad they were watching right that second. Wordlessly, Patton slid his hands into Janus’ hold, who sweetly returned the loving gesture with a soft lacing of their fingers together. 

They were inches from leaning in for a kiss momentarily before Emile excitedly announced that he was done, “This is him! Isn’t he the coolest?!”

Janus scanned the drawing, noting both his son’s artistic talent and feeling a small burst of relief. The kid didn’t resemble Remus at all. For now at least he could sleep easy knowing he wouldn’t have to face his ex again.

--

Janus ate his words three months later.

Emile and Remy had continued to meet within their dreams, playing their guessing game as always until, thanks to Patton’s help, he managed to guess close enough to Remy’s location. True to his word, Remy had given Emile the address and lo and behold, they were only a couple of miles away from each other.

Janus couldn’t say he wasn’t happy for them, he was thrilled in fact. However, as he stood at the front door of Remy’s parents house staring at the face of his ex boyfriend, he couldn’t deny the urge he had to run away immediately. The moment of silence was unbearable. Perhaps he could pretend he didn’t know- “Well shit, it IS you, Snake Face!”

Nevermind.

Janus resisted the urge to scratch at the eczema that adorned the left half of his face, clearing his throat, “It’s good to see you too, Remus.”

Patton and Emile were shocked by the revelation, while Virgil and Remy were entirely unphased. Though Remy was certainly more preoccupied by his soulmate.

Emile was so much cuter in person; his jade green eyes, his honey skin, the cute puff of purple hair, the dorkiest Disney themed sweater Remy had ever seen. It took him a second to realise he was staring too long and blocking the door.

“Oh, uh, come in or whatever, babes.”

He reached out to lead his soulmate into the house, followed by a gaggle of awkward parents.

“So, Jan, darling,”, Patton piped up, “How do you and um-“

“Remus!”, the man grinned.

“You and Remus know each other?”

Janus was about to answer with a well crafted lie when Remus beat him to the punch, “Oh! Dee’s my ex!”

The immediate silence that followed from all six occupants of the house was so much worse than Janus had anticipated. Emile sported an expression of shock, and he didn’t want to hazard seeing Patton’s face. Seeing how disappointed he’d be that he’d lied to him-

“Oh! Well that was ….. Un-ex-pected!”, Patton punned, earning mostly groans but a hearty chuckle from Remus. Janus looked over to his husband, stunned to note that he didn���t seem angry. Perhaps he’d been worried over nothing after all. 

Virgil was first to speak up as they offered the others a seat on the sofa while Remy and Emile were excused to go play video games while the adults talked.

“So I take it you didn’t tell your..“, Remus stalled, hoping Patton would fill in the pieces.

“Husband.”

“Husband,”, Remus began, “that we used to hardcore date back in the day?”

Janus felt his stomach lurch as Patton shifted beside him; neither farther away nor closer to him. Perhaps that made it much worse. 

“In my defense, Remus, we both knew it wasn’t exactly anything serious-”

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say. It was brief, but Janus noted the flash of disappointment in Remus’ eyes. Not exactly that of a hopeful ex lover realising they didn’t have a second chance, mind you. More so someone who clearly had wanted a close friendship, or at least SOME kind of meaningful relationship with the man he’d grown close to. 

Man, Janus felt like such a bastard.

“Apologies, Remus. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh-“

“It’s fine, Snake ‘n’ Flake,”, Okay maybe Janus didn’t feel too bad, “I mean, it stings a little but whatever. We both found our soulmates, so who cares about what we got up to on campus-”

Patton cleared his throat politely, but firmly, “Sorry to interrupt but um, Virgil, was it? How long had you known about it?”

Janus knew that expression; Patton’s “I want to know how much of a fool I’ve been” face was unmistakable. Maybe he was mad at Janus after all.

Virgil snorted, playing with their hoodie strings in a stimming gesture, “Dude, his opening line when we met was “I hope you don’t mind that this ass has some mileage on it.”. Remus doesn’t do subtlety.”

Maybe if Janus wished hard enough the floor would eat him alive. Patton gave a quiet, thoughtful nod and the conversation diverted unexpectedly after that. Not that Janus wasn’t relieved, but the way Patton seemed to pivot so quickly into another topic felt all too much like he was avoiding the whole thing. Janus may be a coward, but seeing his husband try to act like the information wasn’t hurting him was so much worse. He dug his phone out of his pocket and feigned surprise,

“... Would you excuse me, I have a missed business call, it won’t take a second.”

Virgil and Remus watched him go, Patton giving him the smallest nod in acknowledgement for now as the conversation swerved back into more parenting talk. 

Janus wasn’t sure how long Patton would give it before he came out to the front porch to talk; they’d had the system in place ever since they realised Emile would get curious and listen into their conversations sometimes. Missed business calls for Janus, another long catch up with his Aunt Patty for Patton. Both were code phrases for the same thing: we need to talk.

Patton had given it five minutes before he’d come to check in on Janus. The quietness of the surrounding neighbourhood let them indulge in the tinkling from an obviously homemade wind chime dangling above the porch.

“..... I was afraid you’d be disappointed in me.”, came Janus’ quiet admission under the warm sun rays that tickled his already partially dry skin, “Or worse. That you wouldn’t want me if I told you-”

“That’s ridiculous, Jan.”

Patton rarely interrupted anyone - purely out of politeness and the goodness of his heart - but he wouldn’t stand to hear his husband of eight years talk about himself that way, “If you keep talking bad about yourself I’m going to physically fight you.”

There was no bite to his words, but more a firm tone that settled Janus’ nerves somewhat.

“I suppose, but still. I understand that you’re most likely upset with me. I lied to you. And admittedly to Remus as well, but that’s-”

“I’m not upset.”

Pat gently caressed Janus’ rough cheek, paying his skin condition no mind as he reassured him, “I am a little disappointed.”, there’s the fatherly tone, “But none of this would ever be enough to make me leave you or anything if that’s what you were worried about. You’re stuck with me.”. Patton shot Janus a sunshine smile and the cutest blep he’d ever seen, to which the latter felt his heart positively melt, “And you’re stuck with a snake boy.”

The way Patton laughed ignited his bones and sent every nerve ending in his body soaring on high. By Gods, he loved him. Of course, Janus knew he loved Patton since they’d first met in their dreams - both being rather late to establish their connection at their early 20s - from the moment he’d laid eyes on him and heard the words, “Hey there! I’m sorry it took so long to meet you! I guess I was .... Patton-Pending!”. 

“Seriously, where’re all there snake jokes slithering their way out of?”

Janus held in a snort-laugh, “Ah, I used to own a pet snake in college. She escaped the first night I stayed in the dorms and caused a minor lockdown. Once I got her back, the nickname got spread around like wildfire thanks to Remus calling me Snake Face affectionately for months.”

Janus’ sigh screamed exhaustion, but his tone spoke of fondness. Patton chuckled sweetly, “At least he didn’t mean it in a mean way. Otherwise he’d be hiss-tory if I got a hold of him!”

Goddammit, Janus was weak for his husband’s awful puns. Stifling the belly laugh that wanted to break out of him in favour of a curt snort of amusement, “I can take care of myself, fangs you very much.”. Their mutual punning session went back and forth until a knock at the door behind them reminded the two that they weren’t at home. Virgil’s voice came from the other side of the door, 

“You both alright out there?”

Patton quickly called back, “Yep! We’ll be right back in a second!”

“Cool, I’m making hot cocoa, just lemme know how you like it once you’re done.”

Janus sighed and stood up. He already began to feel tense again, but Patton gently rose and took hold of his hands, 

“You should apologise to him, y’know. Remus, I mean.”, Patton clarified, “I know you noticed.”

Patton didn’t clarify further, he knew Janus knew what he meant. The way Remus had covered up how much what he’d said before hurt. Besides, he already had something to apologise to the eccentric trash rat for anyway so..

“I know. Can you keep Virgil company for me in the meantime?”

Patton nodded enthusiastically, “Of course! They promised to show me their tattoos later anyway!”

Janus wasn’t surprised his husband was enthralled by something so artsy, chuckling softly to himself as he and Patton rejoined the others only to walk in on the Dukes rather intensely making out just shy of the kitchen island. Patton averted his eyes while Janus rolled his and just cleared his throat undeterred. 

“I do hope we’re not interrupting anything.”

Just like this morning, Virgil nearly leapt out of their skin and embarrassedly ushered Remus out of the kitchen. Patton decided to swap in and help Virgil prep the drinks, while Janus sat with Remus in the living room once again.

“I owe you an apology, Remus.”, Janus took a deep breath in, “Actually, I owe you two.“

He hazarded a look at Remus, anticipating perhaps shock or surprise, but instead the human embodiment of a muscle cramp was trying to sit upside down on the sofa next to Janus. If he were honest, Janus was more disappointed in himself for not assuming Remus would be the same mangey gremlin he’d been used to.

“You’re aware I’m attempting to be serious?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re going to continue sitting like that?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you aware that talking to you is like attempting to win a game of “But Why?” with a three year old?” 

“Mhm!”

Janus massaged his temples and Remus, thankfully, relented. He didn’t remove himself from the seat and sit like a human being, he simply flicked Janus in the side.

“You act like I’m a bitch to talk to, but fucking hell, cutting the umbilical cord was less taxing than this.”

The snarky remark did get a chortle out of Janus, “Ah, then Remy’s..?“

“Yep! Fresh outta my insides!”, Remus cackled. Janus rolled his eyes. 

“Charming.”

“Nah, that’s my brother, I’m more….. the Demented type.”

“I’m aware,”, Janus retorted, “I remember having to drag you across campus to get your stomach pumped after the Everything Cocktail you downed at the annual Halloween Party.”

Remus let out a barking laugh and nearly slid off the sofa, “In my defense, the hot sauce, caramel, chicken strip, coffee, shrimp, marinara sauce, peanut butter, and six spoons of… was it horseradish or mayo?”

“Horseradish.”, Janus shuddered.

“That’s the bitch.”, Remus continued, “They weren’t so bad. The celery was what fucking sucked ass. And the carrots.”

Ah, the nostalgia. 

Granted, the trip down memory lane was the most wonderful mix of chaotic and bumpy, but the longer he took to address the issue, the worse Janus felt. He must’ve let his expression slip because Remus immediately stopped his rambling and finally let out a tired exhale,

“Listen, if what you said earlier is still eating at you like a piranha in your gut, then it’s fine. Really. I mean sure, it sucked cactus dick knowing you didn’t feel as serious about us as I did at the time, but-”

“It wasn’t true.”, Janus cut in, “What I’d said. I was trying to soften the impact, I suppose. You did and still honestly do mean a lot to me, Remus.”

There’s the shock he’d expected. Remus’ eyes were trained fully on Janus, waiting for a sign of deceit, but thankfully, he detected nothing.

“Huh. Cool.”

It was pretty lackluster, but Janus could tell Remus was glad. At least for now.

“Actually, I wouldn’t get too comfortable yet, I have another apology to issue. Or, I suppose, another lie to set right.”

Oh boy. Janus inhaled, he’d gotten this far. No backing out now.

“When we broke up, I told you it was simply because I didn’t want to date you anymore. Then the week after, my soulmate miraculously appeared in my dreams. But that was a two faced lie.”

Remus cocked his head to the side, wincing while he tried to shuffle around and get comfy due to his gravity defying seating arrangement.

“So…. what happened for real?”

Janus sighed, “.... The week before we broke up, I met him in my dreams. Patton just appeared, and I fell in love instantly. I… I felt awful. Like I was cheating on both of you-”

“Jan-”

“Please, Remus, let me finish.”

Remus sighed, crossing his arms, which looked rather comical when upside down.

“I know you and I always said there’d be no shame if the connection eventually happened to emerge, yet when I saw him there for the first time I just-”

“You felt guilty anyway.”

It was Janus’ turn to be surprised as Remus finally rolled off of the sofa to climb back on and sit… less like a cryptid.

“Same thing happened the first time I saw Virgil.”

Remus snickered at the further shocked expression Janus sported.

“Yeah, I know. Me, King Garbage, Lord of the Thots, no brains or remorse…. feeling guilty. But I get it. It’s really different the first time you see ‘em. Either way, you shouldn’t feel bad for feeling worried or being scared, Snake Face. Although it does hurt like a skewered ballsack that you lied to me about it though. So..”

In retaliation for such a heinous crime, Remus reached over and grabbed Janus’ fancy lil hat, and with a practiced ease that had his ex both enraged and astonished, ring tossed the thing through the small opening in the window, landing it in the small decorative bird bath just outside.

“...... Remus Duke, before I beat the everloving shit out of you for old times sakes,”, Janus uttered lowley, threatening but with a familiar fondness that reminded Remus of their days causing havoc on campus and speed bullshitting essays like it was their birthright, “I want you to know that that little stunt was incredibly impressive...”

--

Upstairs, oblivious to the conversation and scuffle their fathers were enthralled in, Remy and Emile had mostly been playing games, watching cartoons and chatting away together. They’d just put on some Adventure Time when Emile looked over at Remy, noting he was falling asleep. Emile considered trying to do the same to surprise him in their dream space when Remy jolted back awake.

“Oh shit, how long was I out babes?”

Emile shook his head, “Not long. Does… that happen often?”

“Like, all the time. My sleep cycle is a roulette wheel, I’m sure of it.”, Remy lamented, shuffling closer to Emile on the edge of the bed, carefully not to knock over his laptop.

“Do you think our parents are getting along? I’m gonna like, throw hands if they ruin things with their adult bullshit.”

Emile shyly shuffled closer, leaning his head upon Remy’s, who savoured the feel of the slightly taller boy’s coiled hair against his forehead. Downstairs, Emile could hear a scuffle alongside his Papa’s worried attempts to calm down whatever was happening, and began to recognise Virgil’s annoyed interjections. He wasn’t too distressed however; his father’s upbeat tone and what sounded like Remus’ maniacal cackle assured him there was probably nothing to be worried about.

“Something tells me they’re getting along just fine.”, Emile smiled brightly at Remy, “How about one more episode then we can go check?”

----

Hoooly shit this took ages.

I promise I’m workin to catch up, I’m gonna do this or die tryin’!! For small clarifications:

- Virgil is NB/Agender and uses They/Them

- Remus is a Trans Man and uses He/Him

I didn’t specify much for the other characters purely because I could see them being anywhere on the gender spectrum, they can be whatever you prefer to read them as.

I really dunno how well this one read if I’m honest, it just kept branching from cute Remile focused fic to Families’ First Meeting kinda thing???

@tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account   @cateye-glasses   @fandomsofrandom 

#remile #dukexiety #moceit #dukeceit #remy sanders #emile picani #cartoon therapy #janus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #soulmate september #fanfics #my fics #this took so long aaaaaaaa

[bby-d1p]

Chapter 1!

Date: August 2,2017

Time: 8:04 am

P.O.V: LaMelo

Location: 📍BBB Estate📍

"ughhhhh!" I groaned and rolled over at the sound of my ugly older Zo brother pounding on my door for me to get ready for school. "tell him to get up he won't listen to anyone else but you and big baller. And as you can see big baller ain't here." "What if he doesn't remember me- it has been two years Zo."I got closer to my door listening to the odd conversation outside of it. Whoever Zo was talking to had a HEAVY New York accent."Ay melo get u- ow!?!"i yelled as i felt the hard wood hit me face "oh my bad" A lightskin girl said. She had to be about 5'4, her hair was out in its natural dark brown curly fro. She had piercings and tattoos all over. She's pure pressure not gonna lie "I know i'm cute but you done staring down at me, we do have school?" she said. "uh why would I be taking you to school I don't even know your name let alone how you got in my house?" I asked genuinely confused. "Zo I told you he wouldn't remember me!" She yelled down the hall."oh well" Zo yelled back, I gave her a confused look. "Wait are you deadass right now?" she asked her voiced cracked in the smallest way. "Uh yea ion think we've met before." I said still confused. "oh I'm Azlia but you can call me Azi."She stared at me for a little longer than usual."No I wanna call you mamas " I said smirking and pulling her close "Ion think ya girl would be okay with that." Azi said laughing and pushing me off her. I already love her laugh and I just met her. "Ion got a girl what is you talking about?" I asked. "Melo stop playing and come downstairs." She said grabbing her bookbag "I made pancakes , sausage and eggs your plate is in the microwave ." Azi said running down the stairs "Thanks" I smiled"No problem." She returned it."Damn Azi you got him using his manners he ain't said that since 08 " Zo said. "How is Denise  doing." I said while flicking him off " Pretty swell actually" He said smiling."um no she actually  mad at you right now."I said laughing "fuck you" I scrunched my face up."no thanks save that for- wait you can't even save those two inches for Denise"Zo chased me around the kitchen counter."Shut up  bitch" Azi was dying the whole time "I'll see you at school Melo ok." Azi said grabbing her keys and wiping her tears from laughing. "why don't we just take the lambo?" I asked . "Um I don't think you little girlfriend would be okay with that. " Azi said laughing bring this 'girlfriend' up once again. "Um what little girlfriend." I said "you serious?" Azi and Zo said at the same time. "Yea I don't have a girlfriend" I said laughing. "Pops melo said he don't got a girlfriend.I heard she clipped you." Zo said laughing. Some bald man walked in and said " melo what are you talking about you and Ashley broke up? He asked with a confused look on his face "I don't know who you or this Ashley is."I raised an eyebrow."Boy if you don't stop playing and take yo ass to school." He said in a serious tone. "Momma who tf is this in the kitchen." I asked "hold on moms I'm coming." Zo said as he went towards the living room. "you better watch ya mouth wild boy" he said "Aye bald bitch- " Before I could even finish ,Azi have covered my mouth which I wasn't expecting because I'm 6'5 and she's 5'4. "Momma who is this and why do you have to walk with a cane?"My voice cracked "Melo? You....ok?" She asked her words were spaced apart and she was stuttering . "Yes no I don't know I wake with zo banging on my door, then Azi a girl that I barely know no offense, "none taken", hits me in the face with my own door, some random man is in the house, you have a cane and your words are spaced apart and you're stuttering ." I said rambling with tears threatening the brim of my eyes. No one said anything they all just stared at me. There were three knocks on the door and Zo had beat Gelo to it zo flicked him of and started dancing "hey babe" some girl i'm assuming was Ashley walked through the door. Zo sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes. Gelo snickered. "Why are you here?" Ashley asked Azi with slight annoyance in her voice. She was cute I guess but she wasn't anything compared to Azi "I'm here because i'm wanted to be here can't say the same about you though." Azi said shrugging he shoulders Zo, mom, and Gelo snickered "ughh whatever" Ashley said rolling her eyes. Azi didn't looked fazed at all."If yall are tryna prank me it ain't workin. idk who you are so don't call me babe, the only person i want to call me that is Azi." I said Azi I both blushed but tried to hide it by looking at her toes those perfect little toes.I an into toe-suckin ight but if I was damn "Huh" everybody I palmed myself in the face "Thinking out loud " I said shrugging my shoulders."Melo, baby you alright?" this Ashley girl but this timed she tried to kiss me. "aye bruh Ion know who you are but you need to chill with allat." I said annoyed "I'm out man Azi you coming?" I asked "uh no I can take my car I'll be fine" She with a genuine look on her face. I got in hopped in my lambo and Ashley soon came running and knocking on my window. "What? I asked. "I thought we were going to school together." "um no were not I don't know who you are." I said pulling off and driving to school.Soon Going Bad by Meek Mill Featuring Drake filled the speakers of my car. I saw Azi pull up next to me at a red light blasting the same song. I motioned for her to roll her window down. "What ?" She asked "first if you wanna be like me just say that, second-naw don't do that if anything you wanna be like me" she said cutting me off. "uh excuse me ma'am; second , if I win this race I get to take out on a date." I said smiling showing my pink and green braces. "No ya lil girlfriend would not like that." she said I rolled my eyes "She is not my girlfriend!" I said hitting the steering wheel"Ok whatever you say just know yo ass finna get blasted in this race." She said cockily before I could even say anything back she rolled her window up. It was a strait shot to Chino so there aren't any turns or anything. Azi started revving her engine so I started revving my too. As soon as the light hit green we zoomed off. she cut me off and I as taken back a little by the way she was switching lanes. Azi can drive her ass off. I wasn't gone let her punk me like that so I had to drive past her just to be funny. I saw her flipping me off through my rearview mirror and I laughed to myself about how goofy she is. As soon as I pulled into the Chino parking lot I saw Azi's green car parked in my usual spot. "looks like you can't take me out on a date". Azi said cocky manner and popping her invisible collar. I hopped out my car. "Um I do what I want I'm gonna take you on a date" i said wrapping my arms around my waist and burying my face in neck kissing it a little. I don't know why but I felt like I had a strong connection to this girl somehow. We were at my locker by now."Dip chill"she moaned a little "You can't be grabbing on me like you used to you got a girl ok."She huffed "I don't have a girl me and Ashley never dated and if we did or still do were over i'm gonna tell her after school!" I said annoyed I heard sniffles behind me "If that's how you feel melo then so be it." Ashley said. "No that's not what I meant.I don't remember anything at all." I said annoyed once again. "I don't want to sound harsh or break your heart but when I feel a certain way I'm gonna explain how I feel.I'm sorry but Ashley but when I'm with you I don't feel anything." "Melo chill out I'm not worth fighting for, You and Ashley are well were together until you said what you said I can't get tangled up in your mess again." Azi said with her voice cracking once again. "why do you think that? when i'm with you I feel something that I think that I've felt before. I just I can't remember anything I'm tired of having to choose between people over and over again." I said with tears threatening my eyes. why am I being so emotional? "I need to get to class." Azi and I said at the same time. I swear I'm falling in love with this girl already.We laughed and went our separate ways. Ashley just stood there looking dumb.

Science

"Mr.Ball you're late." My science teacher said I sucked my teeth and kept it pushing my day was already being fucked up. I heard heels clicking behind me "Yo you good?" My teacher asked me "Yea? how old are you?You don't sound like a teacher" I asked. she started dying "melo you a fool bruh for real is everything ok?" "I just said I'm fine can you just go back to teaching." I said with an attitude.There were ooo's going all around the classroom. "Melo ion know what you got going on today but you need to fix. Ian never have I won't have a problem with sending you to the office." she said she sound like she was from New Orleans. I rolled my eyes and went to my seat. "Aye melo you good bruh" some bronwskin boy asked me.He had a nose peircing and half his dreads were red and the other side black. "uh yea" I said keeping it cool and giving signals ian wanna talk. "ight whatever you say dip." he said shrugging his shoulders. "how do you know my- uh nevermind my day is already shitty enough." i said i plugged my headphones and started watching Trollhunters on Netflix not caring about what was going on.

Azila pov

Math

"why are you late Ms.Williams?" my math teacher questioned me. "oh my bad I had to deal with something before class." I said shrugging my shoulders.I'm already over this day. I can't get myself wrapped up in his mess not again, I have to figure out what's wrong with melo he's seemed so off this morning.

SKIP SCHOOL

Melo Pov

"You trippin ian finna go over there ion know them people." I said pissed my day has just been bad all around. "your going...ok." Mommy said .

After two hours of being around people I didn't know, i finally got home. "To prove there is nothing wrong with me why don't we go to the doctor?" I proposed "come on mommy let's go to the doctor " i said with puppy eyes "no" she mushed me "mommmmmmyyyyy pleaaasseeee" I asked annoying her on purpose again."ugh fine" mommy said. Out of nowhere Ashley facetimed me "How do you have my number?"I raised an eyebrow "listen dip I don't know what's going on with you but you need to cut the act. You've been so distant lately and I wanna know why." "I haven't been acting distant I just met you this morning." I hung up and walked towards the car.

15 mins later

"The Ball family,your number room is 082200"

"ooou my birthday" i said dancing "me-lo" my mom just laughed I love when she's happy.

We all got up and walked towards the door

"Hi I'm doctor Amanda Johnson and what will we be discussing today?" She asked, she was really perky, a little too perky "Well melo here started acting unusual this morning".The bald dude said touching my shoulder I started to yank away but mommy gave me that look. "How"? "Well he was saying-Let Lamelo" talk she cut off gelo. he stared in disbelief "I don't think I was acting weird.I woke up to get ready for school and zo and this girl Azi were talkin outside my door and the she hit me in the face with it. I asked her who she was yadayadayada apparently that bald dude is my dad and I got in to it with my science teacher who im guessing i was cool with?." I said recapping everything that happened this morning. "Ok um I'll need to do just a little check up height, weight, the usual." she said I stood up out the chair "holy sh- um how old are you?" she gulped you could hear how intimidated she was when I stood up. "I'm 16." I said nonchalantly."sixte- nevermind lonzo can you help me with the stadiometer" she was like 4'11 "sure" zo said in a weird tone. I sat on the little bed thing. She checked my heartbeat and allat good stuff. "Everything seems to be fine." she said hopping off the stool and started typing away on he desktop."Hmmmmm" The doctor said with a blank stare looking at the computer that's why I hate doctors you never know what they're saying smh. "?Well?" I said "Well there might be a scan that we can do next week to see what's going on with you because that "bald dude" is your dad in fact".She put quotations around bald dude and gave me a weird look. "lady no disrespect but i'm pretty sure i'd remember who my dad is." I said returning her confused look zo slapped the back of my head."ow" I whispered rubbing the back of my head. "Alright I'll see you guys next week." "th-thank you! mommy said.

Later...

Azlia Pov

"Uhh yea oh wait let's get the purple confetti instead." I said to Lee. Today is my mom's birthday so I'm tryna go all out. "Target has better balloons and candles." I said walking out of Walmart "Azi we've been to 8 stores already, are you sure?"Lee said laughing "Yes I'm serious, Mom is turning 42 we gotta go bi-" Before i could finish my sentence my phone started ringing.Incoming cal from Him💕 "Yes?" I smiled"nothing I just wanted to see you're face" he said laughing I rolled my eyes . Before lee could say some shit I muted the phone."Is tha- Yes it is lee now mind the business that pays you" I laughed and unmuted. "why'd you mute ma?" he questioned "Lee was saying outta pocket shit about how I'm always at target." I said rolling my eyes. "You literally got to target Every day!" Melo exclaimed "You in my business don't do that." I laughed"I'll call you later ok? Alright byebye." I hung up"It's his contact name still being him with the heart for me." Lee shut up and help me look for balloons" I said laughing."Tell me why simi just texted me and said: Ik you at target or Walmart get me sum gummywors" I laughed

Aziiiiiii😒

Fuckkk no

                                          Simi😊👎

Azi rs stop playing

Aziiiiii😒

Fine troli or Haribo?

                                                  Simi 😊👎

              Troli🙏

Aziiiii

Sike you thought hoe😊

                                     Simi😊👎

fuck you monae

Azi😒

Ahhhhhh not the middle name💀😔

read 5:14 pm

Fine i'll get you some

*not delivered*

Simi?

*not delivered*

Aye ho- I mean simii?😃

*not delivered*

Azi

tell simi unblock me or he aint gettin shit

                                                                    Teneal😘

just like that bett!💀

Teneal😘 sent a voice message

"Azi said unblock her or you aint getting shit. Im tellin momma" She laughed and Simi yelled

[palmett-hoes]

Hi, I really loved your post with the monsters as Birds of Prey! Was wondering if you had any thoughts on the Foxes as Marvel or Mcu characters? I feel like I could see Dan as Carol Danvers and Andrew for sure is Jessica Jones, idk about the rest.

oh wow old post!!

haha unfortunately i’m not really a comics person so i don’t feel like i can really give the best analysis possible, but i have seen most of the mcu movies and bits and pieces of the netflix show so i’ll try my best. also im using dc characters too bc i want to

1. Dan: I think your instinct with Dan as Captain Marvel is spot-on (at least uhhh,, based on the movie lol sorry comics ppl). Her direct, forceful powers and fighting style are definitely reminiscent of dan’s no-nonsense leadership approach. similarly the themes of overcoming sexism and acceling in a male-dominated industry in the captain marvel movie is pretty much the same as dan’s story establishing herself as the first female exy captain (tho sports is way more valid than the military). plus there’s a lot of emphasis on love and friendship between women that dan is ALL about. also lashana lynch would be a god tier dan wilds fc. Dan could also def have that lawful good Okoye from Black Panther energy. Loyal, disciplined, no-nonsense leader. no powers except discipline. no hair. also danai gurira in 2012 with the dreads and the sword and the cape on TWD was definitely part of my middle school sexual awakening

2. Kevin: Aquaman. this is based pretty much exclusively on the fact that jason momoa is my #1 kevin fc and also that Pasifika kevin is phenomenal and mandatory, actually. otherwise i think he has a decent amount of stick-up-the-ass cyclops energy. or dick grayson nightwing energy but i don’t have any evidence for why. kinda looks like him tho

3. Andrew: andrew gets the most characters bc he’s my favorite. i think ur jessica jones instincts are absolutely correct, both in her storyline (i only watched the first season) and her powers. i’ve seen some powers au and the tendency seems to be giving andrew like,, psychic powers or the like, and i don’t really agree. andrew is a very direct character. he’s pragmatic, he confronts problems head on, and he doesn’t muck about in details. to me this really translates best into physical powers like super strength that help u big punch straight thru all ur problems. also i def think andrew would be not just a solo hero but a mercenary (or a detective) because he’s not altruistic enough to be a standard vigilante. he doesn’t care enough about other people to hang out on rooftops all night waiting for Crime to occur. there’s a price for that.  which brings us to the NEXT andrew hero: deadpool. maybe in personality more of a drugged andrew but the superpowered mercenary is really a perfect fit for andrew. also, healing powers have a decidedly tragic poetry to them on andrew. already he’s self-destructive, if he had a healing factor his concern for his own well-being would be so beyond rock bottom it’d be in the earth’s core. even worse when you remember that with a healing factor, as opposed to indestructibility, you still feel all the pain. which brings us to Wolverine and X-23, who have the same thematic points as deadpool but are much more of a personality match and they have knife hands, which i really think andrew would appreciate. ending that sadness train and onto another tho, andrew’s aesthetic and Vibes fit the Winter Soldier just SO well (just that movie tho, not really civil war or anything past that) and a reinterpretation of the captain america story using the twinyards would be incredibly interesting. and finally, one last hero that would work really well for andrew: rogue, only remove the angst around not being able to touch people, andrew would love that. one touch and their comatose? baller. don't fucking touch him.

4. Matt: Shazam. I didn’t see the shazam movie but my dad and brother did and they said it was very funny and all the trailors looked like it had a lot of fun himbo energy and i really think that fits. in terms of matching himbo disaster energy i think i’ve heard good things about comics hawkeye (not mcu). thor?

5. Aaron: Mr. Fantastic. now this might be a stretch but aaron is a character who uses a skin-deep veneer of anger to cover the fact that he’s actually quite pliant and bends to other people’s wills. and he’s a doctor or w/e. he could alse be like,, antman. he’s smart right? hank pym not paul rudd. katelyn can be wasp

6. Seth: Arm Fall Off Boy. no i will not elaborate.             ..... ugh fine, but i'm using my favorite piece of superhero media of all time: x-men evolution, the one where they're all teenagers in public high school. seth can be lance alvers/avalanche who’s a bit of a jerk and has a lot of issues with authority and has a rivalry with cyclops very reminiscent of seth with kevin, but still there’s the recurring theme that he’s lashing out because of low self-esteem and a bad situation and he’s a surprisingly sympathetic character who i’m very fond of. his power is earthquakes but i think the name makes that pretty self-explanatory

7. Allison: Iron Man. cocky, bitchy, and rich rich rich. sounds like allison to me. then to elevate it a level higher: emma frost, rich bitch extraordinaire. also if allison had telepathic powers she would be unstoppable. plus one more bitchy, morally-gray blonde (but chaotic this time): Harley Quinn

8. Nicky: Okay so I do wanna give a quick shout-out to Northstar, the first openly gay comicbook superhero, who’s a speedster which I’d actually say fits Nicky pretty well. However, if i had to choose a superhero to represent nicky in presence and powers it would have to be Jubilee from x-men (... from what i’ve heard lol. i’ve never actually consumed any of her Media hahaha anyway) she’s a joyful, energetic presence and her powers are setting off fireworks which i think is a good balance of nicky being a supportive cousin-parent AND a chaotic train wreck garbage trash man. also gonna throw in johnny storm for a cheap 'flaming' joke

9. Renee: Thunder/Blackbird from Black Lightning bc she’s a fufkin lesbian lol. (i don’t watch the show but i do follow nafessa williams’s tag). now the fr ones i’m gonna do together because to me they have the same Vibes so i chose them for the same reasons. Wonder Woman and Storm who to me have the same  reserved, impartial, regal energy. honestly ethereal and somewhat otherwordly, and quite literally goddesses. also op as hell.  black widow and her “red in my leger” looking for redemption story also fits thematically.

10. Neil: okay lazy answer first: the flash or quicksilver. get it? because they run fast? and neil run too? yea i like to think i've proven myself to be better than such a surface level interpretation but worth the mention ig. so for srs now, mystique and her shape changing powers would be an interesting interpretation of neil's identity issues, but i wanna push it a step further. nightcrawler would actually be possibly the MOST interesting hero to apply to neil 1. because powers still very movement go fast place to place 2. because of the thematic focus on neil's unusual looks and the lengths he goes to hide them, very much in line with the way nightcrawler will use a hologram-projector in order to look human, yet in both cases it's only a surface-level illusion, and 3. his parentage. here, mary would be mystique, which i also think works very well considering mary seemed to be the far more effective chameleon on the run than neil, and also fits with her place as a morally grey character, as mystique herself is often a villain or an antagonist, with her own agenda and shadowy motives. then nathan matches well with nightcrawler's father: azazel, a literal demon, and also where kurt gets his appearance. it's a shockingly coherent narrative between the three of them. then, to also give neil some powers that aren't contingent on his fucked up geneology and rather on his own merit and abilities, Black Canary and her sonic voice parallel the way that neil began to anchor his identity and take ownership over himself through his voice and his sick roasts

and 1 extra, wymack: batman, on account of his altruism, his dedication to second chances, and his many, many adopted children

---

anon, ik it's been a sec since you sent this, so i hope it gets back to you. i had a fun time with it and it prompted like,,, 7 different au s that i'll never write

#Anonymous #txt #the foxes #im talkin #my posts

[kichimiangra]

To celebrate Ratchet and Clank: Rift Apart... I rant about things I would have done differently with the Ratchet and Clank Movie (2016)

Ratchet and Clank fans who saw the movie give it a read and tell me what you think! This isn’t solid or well written, it is seriously just a long rant of “Then they do this! Then That!”

To be fair I am a huuuge Ratchet and Clank fan, I enjoyed the film, I know it's not good, and I'm not quite sure exactly what happened here? I don't know why they tried to do a star wars esque "Save the galaxy; I wanna be a hero!" story when the games would better be described as a "Buddy Road trip".  The relationship between the titular characters is non existent because the film instead decided it was more important to cram about 3 games worth of character development into Quark instead. I like the designs for the Galactic Rangers but other than that I hate them because I am 100% sure I know why they're there and they take even more screen time that should be spent on the titular duo. This is my list of demands if I had been someone who somehow got to demand how this movie got made: -First of all, and I hate myself for saying this... *Don't Hire James Arnold Taylor, David Kaye, and Jim Ward to reprise their roles as Ratchet, Clank, and Qwark respectively.* I love them, but I theorize it's their fault that the galactic rangers are even taking up space in this film. Lookit the movie poster! It list Paul Giamatti, John Goodman, Bella Thorne, and Rosario Daweson, before James and David. Jim Ward isn't mentioned in favor of Sylvestor Stallone. The whole point, (in my opinion) the Rangers were really a thing was to have a few more major characters.  John Goodman plays Grim and Sylvestor Stallone plays Von Ion. These parts are arguably smaller than Qwark or Nefarious... and I would say those two are more prominent that Clank!  But they try to get some names that will put butts in seats because UNFORTUNATELY people are stupid and many WILL go see a movie just because it has an actor they like in it. -Second... throw out the script.  Start over. *Buddy Road trip! * It's not hard.  You can't fit every planet into the film but you can fit enough for a road trip movie!  A few important ones? -Third... *CHARACTER RELATIONSHIPS AND MOTIVATIONS.* I'm gonna be a bit detailed here.  First of all, NO MORE GALACTIC RANGERS PLOT! IT GOES BYE BYE!  And screw Qwark let him go back to being a frgging mid point boss!  This movie is about RATCHET and CLANK!  And you Know what they're gonna do? SOME RATCHETING and some CLANKING! And they are going to GROW AND DEVELOP TOGETHER! ---So this:  Clank gets made, gets the info on Dreks deathstar plans (But maybe we don't know that yet? Maybe we can play it Vague? Maybe we don't have Clanks whole origin story yet? That's for later...) and escapes to Veldin.  This is where he meets Ratchet.  Ratchet is building a ship to try and leave Veldin because it's a bupkiss nowhere desert planet!  Where's he going? GLAD YOU ASKED!!! He wants to go to the Blackwater City hover board tournament on planet Rilgar in which the trophy is being handed out by his celebrity hero: Captain Qwark. Why? We don't know this just yet but Ratchet is a Lombax abandoned on Veldin.  He's never even seen another Lombax, there's not a lot of them in Solana. He didn't grow up alone, but longs to find his lost family.  He thinks maybe... if he wins that Tournament, which will be Broadcasted around the galaxy and get a sponsorship with Gadgetron, being the face of the Hoverboard branch of the company for like 2 years (LEIK IN DA GAYM!) , his family will see it and they can be reunited. (hahaha no...)  Too bad Ratchet can't get his ship working without a robotic ignition (LEIK IN DA GAYM!) Clank crash lands and befriends Ratchet. Clank needs a Hero (HE'S HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO TILL THE END OF THE NIGHT!) to stop Drek and Ratchet knows just the guy!  His idol Qwark! Who he is also going to meet! At the Hoverboard tourney! So they agree to go together, Clank being able to turn the ship on and Ratchet able to pilot it.  They hop planet to planet for the first act because crap isn't going to hit the fan until they meet Qwark. So buddy road trip for a bit they help people along the way!  For example Ratchet only starts with the Wrench, but when they crash land on Novalis they meet up with Cora, who is the Presidents body guard and help her save the president (LEIK IN DA GAYMS!) and is rewarded by meeting the Plumber who fixes their crashed ship. Plumber is grateful that the Prez is safe (Maybe they related?) and gifts Ratchet the Weapon ring claiming he used to work for Gadgettron inventing all sorts of doodads, but they wouldn't put some on the market so gifts them to Ratchet, warning that the Attack ring is a little glitchy so you might not get what you want from it? So basically season 1 Ben 10's Omnitrix. Just for fun. They hop to another few places with the major take away being Clank being all like "Ratchet I am super logical and freshly baby and the galaxy is more important than the Local stuff so we gotta hurry to find Qwark!" but Ratchet is like "Sorry Clank my OCD won't allow it and we got time to kill before the tournament!"  The main point of this is Clank learning feels and empathy quickly from Ratchet and also gets to see Ratchet being a hero even if SpaceRat won't admit it.  They eventually end up on Rilgar and Ratchet enters the tourney with his home made garbage hoverboard because we are skipping the whole Skid McMarxx thing for time sake.  So Ratchet enters the hoverboard tourney, we get a cool music montage, it looks like he's gonna win! He's in first! BAM! His hoverboard craps out on him and leaves him tumbling to the pavement.  Someone passes him, he desperately tries to pull himself up, he tries to run to the finishline, more people pass him, he's in last place, he stops running. He's given up.  He screwed it up for both of them.  Now Clank won't meet and give his message to Qwark, and Ratchet won't get the sponsorship from Gadgetron that could get his face out there for his family to find him. Clank tries to cheer him up, but can only do so much.  Ratchet feels useless and defective and maybe that's why his family abandoned him? Maybe it wasn't an accident, maybe he just sucked?  But Clank knows a thing or two about being defective... so he tries to comfort Ratchet, but is interrupted when someone from the tourney approaches them and says that Captain Qwark was super impressed by Ratchets boarding skills and decided he wants to meet them. Things are looking up for the duo, but like.. you and I know Drekk told Qwark to keep an eye out fro a Lombax that's been ruining his plans and if he get's his hands on him, kill him and take Clank (LEIK STARWARS... Wait...?).  Qwark blows up Ratchets ass this whole being a hero thing so Ratchet can be known throughout the galaxy and Ratchets like "BALLER!  YEAH!  Sign me up!" and then he betrays them, I'm foggy on this part I ain't a screen writer! BUT ANYWAY Qwark can't just be blowing up his potential fans... that looks bad, so he plays along the whole "Oh yes I am Hero Qwark What is it you need from me?"  Clank then reveals his origin story of being a warbot in Drekks factory and what Drekks plans are.  This is confirmation enough and Qwark betrays the duo rips something out of Clank, leaving him robot-unconscious.  Ratchet defends Clank from Qwarks betrayal, Is it the Blargian Snagglebeast? I don't know who cares? And when he's done uses a leftover part from his broken hoverboard to fix Clank.  They have a minor Buddy fight.  Not a long one.  We don't have time for a long one we're getting close to the end here! Maybe Ratchets mad that Clank is one of Drekks warbots? Was this a trap? Clank then goes further into his backstory explaining he's a defect.  He had one purpose: to find someone to stop Drekk and give him that thingy. But Qwark made off with it. Maybe it was a virus to kill switch the deplanetizer? Who cares it was for Obiwan Kenobi and Qwark stole it. Now Clank has no purpose.  Ratchet though tells Clank that people aren't made with purposes, they find purposes and make purposes and Clank almost feels better about that level of freedom. Ratchet and Clank bond over being full of suck and how there are no real heroes out there to stop Drekk and Clank suddenly realizes that all of the traits that make a hero are right there in Ratchet!  All this movie he's watched Ratchet do hero shit and help others even if it's in a "Goddammit we're gonna miss the tournament but I have to save the orphans goddammit!" way.  They both decide that they need to be the heroes they want to see and agree to go stop Drekk themselves.They go after Drekk and have a final confrontation with Qwark and Clank retrieves his Macguffin. Then they go stop Drekk.  Clank has learned empathy and humanity, and Ratchet has got a found family in Clank.

#ratchet and clank

[repost-this-image]

Going back over 25 years later and listening to Kriss Kross’s “Jump” is painful.  “I’m the mack daddy” No, kid, you’re like 12.  We can hear that you’re 12.  The video is just further confirmation that you are an absolute infant.

I just checked.  “Jump” was released in 1992.  These kids were born in 1978 and 1979.  They were, actually, 13 and 14.  I was not far off.

Similarly, I’d never realized just how old “Brass Monkey” is.  I’d assumed that the Beastie Boys were of legal drinking age by the time they wrote it.  NOPE.  They were like 15, because it was recorded the same damn year as “Fight For Your Right To Party.”  Watching that video, with a bunch of white, middle-class suburban kids trying to look like they have anything remotely resembling street cred, singing about all the booze they drink, is just...weird.

Look at these whole infants.

At least “Oops! I Did It Again” doesn’t have any of this weird “kids-acting-like-adults” lyrical wackiness, but a large part of that is because Britney Spears was already a legal adult (I wanna say 19?) at the time.

Also, while the choreography and the song are both BALLER, the video itself...just watch it, okay?

And yes, the jewelry the astronaut gives her in this video is, in fact, supposed to be the Heart of the Ocean from the 1997 Titanic movie, for those not old enough to remember.  That’s why the “But I thought that old lady dropped it into the ocean at the end.”

I’m guessing there were legal reasons they couldn’t actually name the pendant (or even the movie!) or show it onscreen.  But Millennials all knew what Britney was talking about, because every single teenage girl had watched that fucking movie.

I guess what I’m saying is, pop music is weird, and it’s been weird for a long time.

#80s #90s #old music videos #pop music

[thiswasinevitableid]

Anniversary (Taakitz)

This is my gift for @iamthehelperdog for the @thecandlenightszone 2019 exchange. Also my first time writing this pairing, so I hope it turned out okay!

Kravitz steps through the rift into the living room, enjoying the satisfaction that comes with the days work of a reaper and the drama his profession lends his entrances. 

Said drama is cut very short when his next step sends him stumbling over the largest wolfhound on this or any other realm.

“Ow.” He mutters into the rug, the fanciest one Taako could get his hands on, while the dog snuffles his head. 

“Mango, I swear if he just damaged my bone daddy I’m gonna blast you into the next century. Taako’s in the mood to get dicked down tonight, not take his boyfriend to the fantasy E.R.”

“Sorry Kravitz!” Magnus calls from the general direction of the kitchen before whistling for the hound. 

“It’s fine!” He calls back, standing up and resting his scythe in the holder by the front door (okay, so it’s technically for an umbrella, and the scythe will dematerialize in a matter of moments, but the domesticity of the action makes him smile).

“Nice to see you Magnus. Hello, love.” He pecks Taako’s cheek, not wanting to interrupt his flow as he cooks. It’s hard not to do more; Taako’s wearing the gold and teal skirt that shows off his legs, and his hair is pulled into the kind of messy bun that only he and a few sorority soceresses can make look good. 

“Reap anyone good today bones?” Taako dumps something heavily sage-scented into a dish.

“Nothing too unusual. Though I’m sort of worried that Barry and Lup have created a trend of lich lovers.”

“You mean people wanting to have sex with liches?” Magnus reaches for one of the slices of bread on a nearby tray, only for Taako to whack his hand away with a magically elongated spatula.

“Not quite. It’s more that they think what Barry and Lup did was romantic, even though the process was done as a fail-safe more than anything else. Setting aside the whole “defying the laws of death” issue, that process can backfire so messily that it’s better to head it off when we can.”

“What do they think of the whole thing?”

“Barry’s slightly embarrassed and Lup thinks it’s hilarious and, I suspect, a bit romantic. Even if she’d torch me for suggesting that.”

“You bet you tight skeleton ass she would.” Taako shoos their spectral cat, Dust, from her spot hovering above the counter. 

“So do they get a warning or-”

“It depends, mainly on how likely we think they are to try again.” He goes on to explain the rather star-crossed pair he dealt with that morning, as well as a spectre who was adamant about staying a ghost rather than crossing over. 

At first it feels like any other catch-up night, but as he and Magnus chat, something itches at him like pinfeathers, a sensation he long ago learned to trust. Something isn’t right.

Usually when he’s at the kitchen table, with by himself or with their friends, Taako is a motormouth in motion, chatting away as he cooks. Tonight, his comments are limited. 

Maybe he’s just in a contemplative mood. His boyfriend is allowed time to ruminate just like everyone else. Even if he usually does so out loud. 

But the itching in his marrow doesn’t cease. He looks over at the elf again. He loves watching Taako cook, the way he moves through the kitchen like a dancer on a stage. As he searches his movements, his profile, for some sign and starts going a bit starry-eyed from how beautiful he is, it hits him.

The dogs. 

Taako never lets dogs, Magnus’s or anyone else’s in the kitchen. It’s one of his rules.

Yet here they are, the wolfhound asleep beneath the table and the lab nosing about for dropped food. 

Either his boyfriend is under some sort of mind control spell, or something is wrong.

“Love, I’m going to grab wine for tonight from the cellar. Do you have a preference?” 

“It’s all hearty stuff, since we’ve got brawny here, so something red.”

“Got it. Magnus, would you mind helping me? I want to bring up several options just to be safe.”

“Sure.” Magnus shrugs with a smile and follows Kravitz out of the kitchen and down to the lower level. It’s only once they’re halfway down the cellar, safely out of range of elf-ears, that Kravitz poses his question.

“Does Taako seem off to you tonight?”

“Kinda? He let boys into the kitchen, but I didn’t say anything because I was kind of hoping it means he’s changed his rules. Not that they’ve got to go everywhere with me, but they look so sad waiting for us in the living room.”

“How was he before I got home?” They hit the bottom step, Kravitz scanning the shelves for the right bottle. 

“Normal Taako. We talked about the new floating aquarium Angus made Stephen, he complained about the restaurant down the road...but didn’t say he could make their stuffy a billion times better. Oh, shit.”

Kravtiz starts, nearly drops the bottle, “What?” 

“It’s the 15th, right?”

“Yes…”

“It’s the anniversary of the, y’know” Magnus puts a hand on his throat, making a choking noise. 

“Oh no.” That explains everything. 

“Wait, he never told you?”

Kravitz sighs, leaning against a nearby wine rack, “He’s told me about Glamour Springs, though for obvious reasons it’s not a popular topic. But he never mentioned a date, not that I can remember anyway”

“Hey, it’s okay, I only know it because he once got sloshed on Dwarven ale and told us all about it. Don’t know why Merle always uses Zone of Truth when he could just give people that.” Magnus is trying to lighten to mood, and Kravitz lets him. 

“Might be harder to toss out during a fight.”

“Dunno, I got a pretty good arm.” Magnus grins, takes the two bottles Kravtiz gives him, and leads the way upstairs. 

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

The rest of the evening is perfectly pleasant, Taako seeming ore like himself as they talk over dinner. He even lounges, his preferred mode of rest, feet in Kravtiz’s lap, while Magnus does the dishes. 

As he rubs his feet (and notes that he’ll need to repaint Taako’s toenails soon), he wonders if he should bring up the date. He could let Taako be, let him do whatever he needs to in order to deal with what he’s feeling. 

But what if Kravitz is what he needs, and he’s too haughty to admit it? He can’t bear the thought of being able to help the man he loves feel better and not doing it because he misreads the situation. 

Taako makes it easy on him.

“Alright, bone boy, spill; why did you have Magnus go down to the cellar?” Taako crosses his arms, blocking Kravitz’s path to the dresser (so what he can materialize clothes? Taako bought him some black silk pajamas and he likes looking dapper in them, damn it).

“To help me carry wine. I wanted to bring you a selection.”

Taako arches an eyebrow, “You have one of the best palates for wine of anyone living or dead I know. You didn’t need to grab more than one.”

“Uh, I wanted Magnus’s opinion?”

The eyebrow arches higher.

“Okay, you’re right. I knew that Languedoc would be perfect for the steak pie you made.” He sighs,  sits down on the bed, “I was worried about you, and I wanted to ask Magnus if he was noticing the same things.”

“Worried? Cha’boy is fine.” Taako waves his hand dismissively, “He made a baller dinner and is gonna get boned by his hot boyfriend. What could be wrong?”  He pulls his hair loose from it’s ties, shaking it out in a way that’s almost comically gorgeous. 

“Magnus told me what day it is.” Kravitz says softly. 

Taako sags, tries to recover his glib demeanor only for his disguise to flicker, then disappear entirely. He glances behind himself at the mirror, winces with distaste, turning his Wonderland-aged face back to Kravitz. 

It’s not that Kravitz doesn’t notice the difference between the faces. He simply doesn’t care. Taako is Taako, and Kravitz loves him, and would worship the ground he walks on, no matter what face he wears. 

He holds out his hands and Taako takes them, let’s him guide the elf down to sit beside him. 

“Dove, you don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to. But you also don’t need to conceal whatever you’re feeling from me. I love you, and I want to help you if you’re hurting.”

“I’d really rather not focus on it. But I got a feeling you’re not gonna let it go.”

“If you need me to drop it, I will. I could also give you something else to focus on.”

Taako glances at him, skeptical, “Like what?”

“Well” Kravitz strands, grabbing a bottle of massage oil from the dresser, “I thought I could make use of my magic fingers.” He wiggles them in the air, making the elf snicker. 

“Sure, go for it.” Taako pulls off his blouse, tossing it on the floor before rolling over on his stomach. Kravitz straddles his hips, rubs the oil  (a warming one, to correct for the chilly skin) on his palms and kneads his fingers gently and precisely across Taako’s back.  

Taako sighs, though all the tension stays put. Kravitz focuses on his task, on the shape of the man beneath him, humming a concerto as he does. 

“So you gonna ask me stuff or…”

“I’m going to massage you. You can talk about whatever you want.”

“What if I wanna talk about what Dust got up to today?”

“That’s fine.” 

Taako huffs, muttering something about difficult birds into the pillow. Kravitz manages to get the knot in his right shoulder loose. 

“....It’s not even about the audience. Not this time, anyway.”

Kravtiz makes a quiet noise to acknowledge that he’s listening. 

“It’s, ugh, it’s Sazed.”

This time Kravitz has to keep his own shoulders from tensing; there are strict instructions that reapers are not allowed to punish souls for personal reasons. But if Sazed ever comes his way in the afterlife, the man is in for an earful (and will still be better off than if he runs into Lup. Goddess help him if that happens). 

“Just...I think of myself as good with people. Everybody loves Taako, y’know but--hoo, yeah, there’s a spot--how the fuck am I supposed to believe that when I misjudged someone so badly?”

“Love, if you gesture like that it makes it hard to rub your arms.”

“Look, bone boy, you wanted me to open up, so I’m opening. I got the wrong read on someone I thought I could trust and forty people died, because he wanted to either frame me or kill me or both and I just, just” the next inhale is shuddery, “what if that happens again?”

“For starters, you have me, and I’m a decent judge of character.” He circles his thumbs along either side of the elf’s spine, gets a moan that’s sweeter than any song to his ears, “and it’s not just me. You have Magnus, and Merle, and Angus, who I’m quite certain will run a thorough background check on anyone he suspects of potentially being a threat to you. And that’s before we even get to Lup.”

“You-” Taako yawns, nestles his head down into a pillow, “you going somewhere with that?”

“When you were making the show, it was mostly you and Sazed. There was no one else who cared about you who could give you perspective, warn you if he seemed twitchy or you seemed too unkind to him. It’s not like that at all now. You have many people who care about you Taako, present company included.” He leans forward, kissing the back of the elf’s head.

“You do more than care, my man” the tease is back in voice, and Kravtiz is relieved to hear it. Narrow hips twitch under him as Taako adds, “could do more than that right now if you wan-” another yawn and Kravitz laughs, rolling off of him. 

“Raincheck until the morning, my dove? I do like when you go melty and relaxed when we fuck, but you look ready to drop.”

“Fiiiiiiiiiiine.” Taako huffs, crawls, and flops his way under the covers while the reaper washes his hands. Hops under the covers himself, Taako glomming onto him as soon as he’s within range. He switches off the light, cuddling the elf close. 

“Hey, bones?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Thank you. For, um, for listening. And for not pushing it.”

Kravitz brushes golden wisps of hair aside, kissing him tenderly and as long as he can before the elf needs to pull away.

“Any time, dove. Any time.”

#fanfic #taakitz