#i've probably made a point like this before but fuck it we ball

[uncanny-tranny]

Theory without interacting with your fellow man is defective. In order for you to have a rounded sense of politics and what your community needs, you must strike the fine balance between theory (i.e., empowering yourself to understand the way ought to work) and actual interaction with others (i.e., understanding how the world actually works).

Theory without human connection is incomplete and human connection without theory is aimless.

#politics #studying theory alone is how you get people who say there is only one experience for [x] group to have for instance #in many ways theory can only provide /so much/ nuance before it becomes unusable. that's the way language naturally works. #in order to actually USE theory you have to apply it - either that or you have to seriously consider how it would look in /your/ community #i've probably made a point like this before but fuck it we ball #the last sentence is a bit nuanceless (this is a word now) but it's the overall idea of what i mean

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hi, how are you? Hope everything's peachy. I've been waiting for your requests to be open since probably December. I figured, maybe I could leave you my thoughts and you'll decide what to do with them. Is that fine? 😅 You can throw it straight to the trash if you'd like.

So that now every F1 Team have a girl driver in F1 Academy, I thought maybe they want to promote the Academy more and includes it in DTS series. So the reader is a driver for Ferrari. They assign her to Carlos and they've to film a Training camp before the season. Carlos sort of being her PT. Plot twist: they HATE each other. But their combined fury can easily catch on fire and lead them to other type of sport, more sensual one. So it's like enemies but/to lovers sort of thing. A lot of arguing, angst but also a bunch of steamy sex

The Uphill Battle || CS55

Warnings: Smut, angst, name calling WC: 1.8k

Pre-season Training - Dolomites This had to be the worst PR disaster in the making. Whoever thought it would be a great idea to pair you up with Jr Sainz needed to fall right off this mountainside. To make matters worse, they had a TV crew following you around all day and you were fairly sure your suite was bugged like Big Brother.

“Hurry up, I want to make it back in time for dinner,” Carlos growled as he stopped to look back at you. 

You narrowed your eyes, not that he could see them beneath the snow goggles, and sarcastically replied, “Oh no, baby boy can’t go to bed without his supper.”

He stabbed his sticks into the snow and pulled his googles up over his beanie. “You think I want to be out here babysitting a spoiled little brat? I am crawling just so you don’t get left behind and lost up here. Pick. Up. The. Pace.”

“Fuck you,” you spat as you pushed harder, your calves protesting the hardship you were putting them through to prove a point. You overtook the Spaniard and made sure to only just miss his foot from the piercing pike on your ski stick. “Keep up, Junior.”

You were both panting by the time you arrived back at the luxury accommodation in the resort town at the base of the mountain. You were starving but you were also damp with sweat beneath the layers of cashmere and feather-stuffed coats so you went straight to the private pool. You figured after the whining Carlos had done about his dinner you wouldn’t be disturbed in the heated outdoor pool, but you were wrong.

Carlos curled a brow at the trail of clothes that led from the twin penthouse suites to the rooftop pool they shared, each layer getting thinner until it ended with a sports bra and panties. Snow littered the ground and he shivered in his bathrobe as he watched you float on the surface of the steaming water with your eyes closed. You looked relaxed, peaceful. It was a look he rarely saw on your face and it immediately washed away when you opened your eyes and caught him watching.

“Dirty perv,” you hissed as you slipped back beneath the water up to your neck and covered your breasts. 

“I’m not the one going for a skinny dip. You’re just looking for attention.”

“I don’t have to look for attention, it comes looking for me,” you said as you eyed up the goosebumps on his legs below the robe. “I figured you were too busy stuffing your face.”

“The Netflix crew were in the dining hall,” he admitted quietly.

“Ah, so you are not nearly as comfortable in front of them as you act. Could have fooled me.”

“I don’t think that would be hard.”

“I hope your balls get frostbite.”

Carlos winced at the idea and took a step closer to the water's edge and the warmth it promised. 

“If you get in here with me we are going to have a problem,” you warned, swimming closer to defend your territory. “There’s no cameras around to keep you safe.”

Carlo snickered and dipped his foot in. “I’ve seen your training in the ring, I think I can handle it.”

“Brave words when you are all the way over there.”

Your blood could have heated the water to boiling point as he slipped his robe off and tossed it over the rail before taking another step in, then another. You watched the water disappear over his skin tight trunks and darken the happy trail before rising over his abs. The team at Ferrari at least assigned you someone who was taking their PT position seriously, you could see from his physique that he kept his own routine solid and you could learn a thing or two - if he wasn’t such an asshole.

“Take a picture, malcriada,” he said with a wink when your eyes finally reached his face.

“Such a shame,” you murmured wistfully.

“What?”

You dragged your eyes back over his body before sighing. “That a body that fine has a personality like yours.”

A wave splashed over you as he dove into the water and you lost sight of him in the dark. You should have put the underwater lights on but hadn’t wanted to light the water up when you hadn’t bothered to even change into a bikini. 

A large hand grabbed your ankle and you barely had time to inhale a breath before you were pulled under. Just as quickly as he grabbed you, he was gone again and you spluttered to the surface, wiping the water from your eyes. “Asshole!” 

“Is that the best you can do?” he laughed from the edge he was leisurely reclining against. 

“Come here and find out.”

He slipped beneath the water but this time you were prepared and met him halfway. Your bodies collided, twisting and turning trying to fathom some kind of dominance until your legs wrapped around his waist and he sank to the bottom with you on top. His hands found your thighs and dug into the soft skin until your lips parted with a sudden thought and the last of your air bubbled to the surface. 

“Not the attack I was expecting,” he taunted as he rose to the surface behind you. The water falling from his hair cooled as it dropped to your shoulder and his hand traced the curve of your neck. “Someone plays dirty.”

“I’m not playing.” Your voice wasn’t the cold detached sound you had hoped it would be, but a needy sigh. Your legs pressed together and you were suddenly reminded of how very naked you were. 

“Is that another invitation? You almost won that time.”

You turned around with a glare to find his smirk growing as wide as his pupils as he looked down at your body. “It’s not a fair fight anyway. I am naked and vulnerable.”

He chuckled at that. “I don’t think anyone could mistake you as vulnerable, malcriada, not with that prickly attitude and sharp tongue. But, if it would make you feel better about losing again…” his hands brushed over his hips and pushed his trunks down his thighs before he tossed them out of the pool. “Happy now?”

“I’m certainly something,” you murmured before realising you spoke aloud. Anger flushed your body again at the distraction he caused and you shoved your hand across the surface, spraying him in the face with the water. His momentary surprise was only that, momentary, and he leapt into your personal space with his own attack.

You weren’t quite sure how it happened, or how it started. Maybe the tension that had been brimming all week finally reached its breaking point and it was a mutual decision. One moment you were writhing to escape from his attack, your hands trying to find purchase on his body as you wriggled in his arms, the next you were writhing for an entirely different reason. 

His chest brushed over your sensitive peaks and your nails scraped down his back. Your legs tightened around his waist and felt the large length pressed between your stomachs. Your heads broke the surface but the gasp had nothing to do with the need for air when his palms squeezed your ass to hold you still. 

“What are you doing?” you moaned as you clit pressed to his shaft and every little movement rode you over the rigid veins. 

“I’m not doing anything,” he rasped, his voice dropping as he felt the heat of your core on him. “I’m trying to not fuck you right now.”

“Right, because you hate me,” you laughed humorlessly as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp but you both moaned at the feeling.

“No, because you hate me.”

It had been a while since you last had sex, that was the excuse you gave for being so needy and wanting to be filled right at that moment. “I can hate you and still want to fuck.”

Carlos stared into your eyes and saw the desire in them, felt the desire that had your nipples hard and begging for his mouth. “Fuck it,” he decided aloud. “I can hate you and still make you come.”

“Bold words.”

He didn’t give you a response, at least not in words. His strong hands lifted you higher and pulled you back down on his cock. Your teeth clamped around the muscle where his shoulder met his neck and he groaned at the pain and your muffled cry. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

“You’re too big,” you whispered as he slowly speared you down his shaft until you looked down your body expecting to see a bugle at your belly button. Easing you back up, he set a slow rhythm as your body adjusted to his size and walked you both to the edge of the pool.

“You can take it,” he promised as your legs untangled from around him and you found yourself facing the mountain you had climbed earlier. His hips snapped forward and buried himself back in you from behind and your cry echoed out into the night. “That’s it, make an avalanche, malcriada.”

You didn’t care that he called you brat. You didn’t care if you brought the mountain down on the whole town. You only cared about reaching your own high and you chased it with your hips, pushing back to meet him stroke for stroke. Waves rippled out across the water and soon turned to splashes as your core tightened and those ripples began to make their way down your spine.

“I can feel you shaking,” he teased in your ear, his hand snaking over your hip to find your clit. “Let go, dulce, let me feel you come.”

Your eyes slammed shut as waves of pleasure rocked through you and his name tumbled from your lips, betraying yourself with the reverent tone it held. His pleasure grew at the sound and he slammed himself as deep as he could in your cunt, letting your tight walls milk him as he came. There should have been anger at the idea of being filled with his seed, but you took delight in the liquid warmth pooling inside you. You had made him come undone, it was a win of sorts in your mind.

Satisfied for the moment, you pushed his body back and walked up the steps, into the biting cold night. Carlos was still high from his release and he didn't realise until it was too late. You were already halfway to the suites when he noticed his robe was missing, a quick scan of the snow confirmed his trunks had found the same fate.

“Brat!” he called out as you disappeared inside.

“Asshole.”

Click here for part two.

#carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

[mewtwoandme]

Alright imma be real with ya'll...

I haven't been doing great mentally lately. You guys have constantly heard me bitching about my seasonal depression and it getting in the way of my artistic motivation yada yada lol Well, it just keeps refusing to let up. I've been trying to fight it, work through it, hoping that it would go away if I just keep working, when in all honesty that's mentally draining me even more. Now, there have been a few times where the drive to draw would come in spurts and I would finish a few small things here and there and I recently did the new blog banner and all, but as quickly as that motivation appears, it vanishes again. It's been an ongoing cycle since December, I haven't been very productive at all with the more important things and I've barely even touched the Baby Arc since SD hit. And lately this rut has started to bleed into things outside of art and affect my motitivation to do daily responsibilities as well, to the point half the time I feel like a vegetable while house work continues to pile up around me...I'm thinking I may need to do things a bit differently for awhile.

Obviously it's been too difficult to draw right now. My SD had never been this severe before, so there needs to be a change. I can't keep up my usual routine of wake up, go to work, come home, draw, repeat. I need a bit more variety for the time being, maybe making time to do other things that make me happy aside from art will do me some good. That being said though...ugh I hate this, I don't even wanna say it, but the Baby Arc might have to be put off yet again for awhile. I thought about all this last night and was literally crying over it because like, I'm finally here!! We made it to the point of Blu being officially introduced and then seasonal depression decides to come in and fuck up everything I've been trying to do. Like I took a step forward, then three steps back! It just really feels like a kick to my nonexistent balls man...Regardless I think a step back right now is necessary, so hopefully you guys understand, yall usually do anyways ^^

So yeah, I guess here's another art hiatus...don't expect to see anything probably until the end of February, or even March, cause I'm hoping the SD will start to go away by then

#this whole post makes me angry #but its something i feel i need to do anyway #for my sanity's sake #cant help but feel disappointed in myself though... #mod speaks #mod announcement #art hiatus

[bsxcrxts]

comfort

Luke Skywalker x fem!reader

MINORS DNI. AGE IN BIO TO INTERACT WITH MY WORKS.

word count: 5.4k longest oneshot I've ever written whoops

Contains: Luke being sad and hurt, mentions of blood and bruising (not in detail), reunion between reader and Luke post-Dagobah training and Cloud City duel, angst just due to the whole situation in general, a whole lot of tension, blowjobs, inappropriate use of the force, unprotected sex (don't do this irl unless you want a baby idk what to say), somewhat subby/needy Luke, he's pathetic. a wet cat of a man in this and I love him

A/N : This is self-indulgent, soft, nasty, and probably poorly researched. Reader's not a nurse or a doctor, just a concerned gal with a crush, and Star Wars medicine is made up anyway. I have no idea why she's on the Falcon at this point but fuck it, we ball!

You find yourself trailing after Luke in an effort to get him to rest; whatever the hell he just went through in Cloud City initially had him almost feverish, tossing around on the cot in your little makeshift medbay and muttering about things you didn't understand, things about Ben and lies and Vader. But when he sensed the latter, he shot out of bed and right back into the cockpit of the Falcon, open wounds be damned, apparently.

He just doesn't quit, you thought to yourself, momentarily enamored with his strength and somewhat miffed he's left, but then your stomach sank as you also realize you don't even know how bad the rest of his injuries even are.

You and Leia had managed to fit him with the stabilizer on his right arm before she had to excuse herself to help navigate the Falcon away from the Imperial Fleet, and you didn't get much further on assessing Luke before he snapped out of whatever fervor he'd been in and followed her. You didn't run after him, too busy trying to scour the pitiful excuse of a medkit on the Falcon for more supplies and knowing it would be a lost cause anyway– he can be incredibly headstrong when it comes to helping his friends. But you've made the jump to hyperspace now, you've felt the engines shift. It should be safe, and you're pretty sure he should really, really rest.

Creeping into the cockpit of the Falcon, you see Luke slumped in one of the second-row seats, clutching a blanket around himself. He's not speaking in hushed tones to himself anymore, but in the blue light of hyperspace, his eyes look so tired. You lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.

It's not the first time you've touched him in months, but it feels like it is– you had cradled him in your arms for a moment when Leia ushered him into the room for the first time a half an hour ago, but Luke wasn't focused then, and he definitely wasn't well enough to hold conversation with you. And the last time you saw him before today was many moons ago, before he left to become a Jedi.

Luke's face snaps up to yours. Your hand is warm and welcoming on his arm, and he wants more than anything to lean into your touch, but he still feels uneasy, like he's unsure if that would be okay with you, for some reason. The recent revelations about his parentage have left him uncomfortable with himself, even if you don't know yet. If you'll ever know.

Meanwhile, your eyes rake over his features. His lip is split and he has a gash and an impact mark across his cheekbone just under his left eye. The reunion between the two of you is soured by defeat and injury, but despite yourself, when he gazes up at you, part of you insists he looks good. Really good. You linger too long on the cut on his mouth before you force yourself to snap out of it.

"Hey," you whisper. For some reason, you're embarrassed. You haven't spoken to him in a long time.

Luke has the audacity to crack a tiny smile up at you from where he's sitting, just for a moment. He breathes out your name and leans his head against your side where you're standing next to him.

"I have a headache," he says, more like he's thinking out loud than anything. It's an excuse he's made for himself to lay against you even for the briefest time, but it's also true. His head pounds.

Luke pulls away and lifts his face back up to look at you again. There's an emotion that you've never seen before behind his eyes. "Sorry," he says quietly, like it's an afterthought. Only he seems to know why he's apologizing.

"You should go lay down again. I-I can help you with the rest of your injuries and you can rest," you say.

"You’re right," Luke sighs, and stands up shakily. He doesn't stumble, but you put a steadying hand on his back anyway, just to remind him that you're there.

The short walk back to his cot is silent. It's awkward. You know you shouldn't ask about what happened, that Luke will tell you when he's ready, but you don't know what else to say, so you say nothing.

When you do start speaking, your words just sort of tumble out. You're talking to fill the space. Luke has never been this quiet before.

"Here," you gesture, "sit on the edge of the bed. I know I said you could lay down, but I'm worried you're concussed, so maybe you shouldn't fall asleep. You said you have a headache. Do you think you have a concussion?" you ask, as if he'd know.

For his part, Luke just shakes his head at you. "I'll be alright," he insists. He doesn't know if he believes it, but he can't think of anything else to tell you to make you feel better.

Right, you think. Stubborn. Luke occasionally has a sense of over-confidence about himself, you've seen it when he talks about piloting or whatnot, and he's never been wrong about his limits, just cocky, but this time it seems almost put-on, like a show. You let it slide.

"I know," you say, and softly smile at him. When he halfheartedly returns your smile, it pulls on the cut on his lip, and you remember why you're here.

You retrieve a wet cloth and start dabbing at the sticky, tacky blood decorating his face. You take his chin in your other hand, and Luke closes his eyes while you wipe at the near-dried blood. His eyebrows knit when you get too close to a bruise, but he doesn't outwardly complain, and you move on swiftly.

Your heart is beating far too quickly given Luke's condition. He is seriously injured, and clearly went through something not only physically horrible but also mentally taxing back in Cloud City, but he's gorgeous right now.

The way his hair is parted and tousled reminds you of what he's looked like in the past, under much more pleasant circumstances. You don't know what you are to Luke; you have an absolute raging crush on him and he obviously likes you too, but he leaves to go off on his own. A lot. The two of you never talk about it. If you acted on your arousal, it actually wouldn't be the first time you'd have slept with him after he narrowly escaped death, but this feels... different.

Luke breathes out a little sigh as you glide the cloth across his cheekbone. Your stomach ties itself in knots, and you freeze.

He notices that you've paused your ministrations and opens his eyes, looking up at you expectantly. His eyes are the clearest you've seen from him today, and just as blue as always. You panic a bit, hoping he can't perceive your inappropriately-timed desire.

"I need to grab some bacta," you mutter, and remove your hand from his chin.

This time when you return, he keeps his eyes open.

Luke can sense something from you, but he isn't sure what. His relationship with the Force isn't in the best shape, but he knows you've been thinking very hard about something and he's almost afraid to find out what.

“You must be sick of taking care of me," Luke ventures as you carefully apply the bacta gel to a cut on his forehead. "Ever since you got to know me, I just keep getting hurt.”

He says it in that tone he uses when he's making a dry joke that isn't a joke at all.

“Hey, I’ll always help clean you up," you reassure.

"At least both sides of my face will be even now," he continues, referring to the scarring on his left side from the Wampa attack earlier that year.

"You look– you look good," you stutter out, finding yourself shy again. Luke doesn't even take the compliment before he keeps going.

“You’re not put-off?”

“By what?”

It's quiet. Luke doesn't answer. You realize he's talking about the fact he lost his hand in the battle. You sink down to sit next to him, forgotten bacta pack dropped to the floor.

"Luke, no, I don't think–"

“He said some things about me…" Luke trails off, and you know the unnamed he in that sentence means Vader. "I’m worried I’ll turn out like him. That I’ll fall to the dark side. But I can’t stand by and do nothing, I can’t,” he insists, passionate.

“You’re not like him."

Luke looks down at his feet, unconvinced.

You lean over and kiss his cheek, meaning to comfort him, watching a blush spread over his features.

"You're not him, okay?" you reaffirm, face feeling heated. Your hands slide over his arm and down his back in a reassuring motion. You intended to pull away to get more bacta, but Luke leans into you.

"Can I–?" he asks softly. You nod, and he catches your mouth in another kiss.

He's overeager, teeth clacking against yours as he licks into your mouth and tries to get as close to you as bodily possible. In contrast, you try to stay gentle, refusing to even playfully nip at him like you otherwise might. The gash on his upper lip splits open anyway, sending him a shock of pain that should stop his motions, but he just groans into your mouth and keeps kissing you.

"You're bleeding!" you exclaim as taste blood and break away from him.

"S'okay," Luke whines, protesting your concern. It's evident how much he doesn't want to stop; he follows you as you pull away, tilting forward. You ignore the rush of arousal flooding your system at his shameless display and grab a bit of gauze and press it to the scrape.

"Look, it's fine. See?" Luke asserts when there's hardly even a few drops of his blood on the cloth as you remove it. Obviously vying to kiss you again.

It's hard to resist him and his pleading puppy-like eyes. You press a quick peck to his forehead.

"Hold still," you say, "I need to put a bit of bacta on that so it heals." It's the justification you're using, because if he keeps kissing you, you're going to lose control and the little scrape will never heal. Luke decides to give in to you as the voice of reason.

"There," you state when you've finished with his face. "Now..." you trail off, eyeing the gashes through the fabric of his fatigues and once again feeling bizarrely nervous, "You should. You should take your shirt off next."

"Right," he sighs, feeling unsure. He reaches up with his left hand and starts undoing the fastens on his shirt.

"I could help you?" you offer softly.

"Sure," he nods.

You gently help him out of his shirt, careful of the cut in his upper left arm and scrape across his elbow that tore through even the fabric of the shirt. The shirt is falling apart, burned in places and ripped in others, and you sort of drop the fabric off to the side, unsure if it's salvageable.

When you look back up, the breath feels like it's been punched out of you.

Luke was always lean, a scrappy sort of muscular but this is new. You remind yourself you haven't seen him in months and that he's been off doing stars-know-what during his Jedi training. Behind the bruises and scrapes, he's built a bit of muscle, more defined than last time. Your eyes dart across his body; his arms alone have you biting your lip, feeling more butterflies in your stomach than ever before.

Luke catches you looking at him, catches you eyeing him up and down like you'd like to devour him, and he just gazes back at you. The blush on his cheeks from earlier never went away.

You convince yourself to slow down and wipe the dried blood off his arms and torso. There's no way to avoid how close the two of you are; you've practically wormed your way into standing between his legs as you dab bacta on the cuts and bruises that litter his midsection. Shamefully, you think about how good he smells, sweat be damned.

Luke audibly groans when you slide your hand across his shoulders in preparation to hold his arm up while you apply the medical salve. Your fingers dig slightly in to his sore musculature and he can't hold back.

"Sorry," you choke out, "want me to stop?"

"Mm-mm. Feels good, actually."

You feel another crack in your resolve form as you slather bacta along his cuts and bruises.

Luke is far enough gone himself, and you try not to notice. His breathing rate increased the second you started touching him, and he knows a hard-on would be ill-timed right now, but he kind of doesn't care that he can feel a tent beginning to form in his pants. It's a welcome distraction from the absolute shit day he's had, and he really, really missed you. The feeling of your hands on his body is unparalleled, so welcome and warm.

The logical choice of waiting even a day in order to prevent his wounds from re-opening is losing appeal for him.

You, however, continue to grasp onto logic. Not meeting his eyes as you finish applying the bacta, you step away from him and turn to fiddle with the medkit.

“Okay, I think it's alright for you to lay down now. I’ll go so you can rest," you say. You don't want to leave him, but it's the responsible thing. You'll go lay in your own bunk and mind your own business. He's hurt, he needs repose, he– 

“Don’t go.”

Not turning around, you go to answer. “Luke, you need—"

“I need you,” Luke insists, desperately. He reaches out and grabs your wrist lightly, like he moved without thinking.

It's very calculated, however, when you turn around and he raises your hand to his cheek and plants a kiss on the palm of your hand.

"Please?" he breathes, eyes wide, looking up at you and begging. His hand hasn't left yours where it rests on the side of his face.

“Oh, baby,” you sigh adoringly, your heartbeat in your throat and your determination to let him alone long gone as you return to stand in between his spread legs. You'd normally settle down on his thighs and grind against him, where you know Luke likes you best, but right now you're sure to be gentle as you can. You're a bit worried about whatever unknown bruising could be beneath the pants he didn't even get off before he couldn't resist you anymore.

“Kriff, it’s been so long. Missed you,” Luke mutters against your mouth between kisses.

"Yeah?" you ask, losing the brain capacity to answer coherently as Luke buries his face in the crook of your shoulder and sucks a kiss into the juncture of your skin.

Any gentle peck you try to give Luke turns dirty as he doubles down in passion every time, almost refusing to let any kiss end until the two of you are gasping for air. He's desperate to touch you, and yes, your hands are cradling his face and he loves it, but you're still somewhat leaning away from him, standing over him as he sits in front of you. He wants.

It's accidental, what happens next. You feel a sudden pressure against your lower back that nudges at you until you tip forward, catching yourself just inches before you would have fallen against Luke, your knee coming to rest in between the junction of his legs. In your new position, he immediately grinds his hard cock on your thigh, the drag of his sizeable length suddenly against you. It's accidental, but it's what he needs.

You break the kiss and gasp. The Falcon hasn't shifted out of hyperspace and you're not off-balance.

"Baby?" you inquire, the question unspoken. Did you just use the Force to move me? Many of Luke's abilities are new. If it was him, it was a recent development, at least in your experience.

"'m sorry," Luke whines, "I didn't mean to– I don't know what happened," but even as he says it, he's practically fucking himself against you, the strain of his bulge in his khaki pants borderline painful.

You're too turned on to even admonish him. You wouldn't if you could. You liked it, liked how his growing desire for you was overwhelming him to the point of losing control.

"Need me that bad?" you tease.

You hardly expect a response, but Luke keens and thrusts hard against your leg, his cock aching and his voice catching on a moan. "Ah-h!! Angel, I told you I do," he mewls. The flush on his face is as red as you've ever seen him.

“Let me take care of you,” you coo as you sink down onto the floor. Unable to resist, you shove your nose against Luke's clothed cock, inhaling his scent and mouthing at him over his disgusting khakis.

"Oh that's– you don't have to–" Luke starts, squirming.

"Want to," you answer, kissing and licking at his bulge until the fabric covering him is damp, from his dripping cock or from your mouth, you aren't sure. His dick throbs, straining painfully against his clothing. "Wanna see your pretty cock even more though," you continue.

You don't have to tell him twice. He scrambles to unzip his pants and you help him, pulling his flushed cock from the confines of his underwear. It bobs against his stomach and smears pre-cum across his torso, across his newly-defined abs. Unable to help yourself, you lean up and lick a bit of the pre-spend off of him, which only makes his erection kick and leak more.

You place an open-mouthed kiss to his cock as you move lower, and then take him into your mouth.

"F-fuck! Your mouth, oh, you ffeel s' ohh," Luke exclaims, incoherent when you first take him into your throat, fisting the rest of his cock in your hand as you bob up and down on him. He almost thrashes, hips jerking forward and hand coming to rest in your hair, not pulling just there, a guiding weight that has you moving at an even pace, sucking at the head of his cock and popping off of him every once in a while to kiss the underside or tip of his member and make him writhe underneath you. Your cunt clenches around nothing when he moans or squirms for you.

As you slide your mouth off his cock, a string of saliva still connecting you to his tip, his body jerks. He fucks his cock against your lips and his hips stutter against your mouth, like he can't take one second without you.

"Stars, baby, like my mouth that much?"

"I like all of you that much."

His declaration is unbearably hot, and you reward him by deepthroating him as far as you can take him, throat constricting around him and your eyes watering.

Luke inhales sharply, surprised by your sudden action.

“S-stop.”

“Is something wrong?” you ask, pulling off of him, immediately conscious of his delicate state and concerned he's started bleeding or something like that.

“'m close. Almost came,” Luke admits shyly, looking off to the side and not meeting your eyes. He still isn't quite comfortable with how fast his body finishes with you, even though you've told him several times how much his eagerness and sensitivity turned you on.

“That's the point, right?” you affirm lightly, running a hand up his thigh. "You wanna cum in my mouth?"

Luke looks at you, blushing fiercely. “I don't wanna cum yet at all," he whines, softly guiding you up from your kneeling position on the floor. He kisses you, absolutely claiming your mouth before he nuzzles his face into your neck, "I don't want this to be over," he confesses, and he sounds both desperate and a bit sad.

"Doesn't have to be," you say, settling into a somewhat more dominant role, but keeping your tone is still gentle. He's liked it in the past when you take the lead, so you try it out. "Tell me what you want."

The shift in your attitude has Luke suddenly shameless, pressing himself bodily against you until the two of you can't honestly get any physically closer.

"I wanna be inside you. I-inside your pussy,” he whines.

His words send shockwaves up your spine and you bite your lip, clenching around nothing.

"A-and," he chokes out, rutting against your thigh like he's an animal, "I want you to make me wait."

You won't make him clarify the last part. You're plenty aware that's his way of asking you to edge him, to control his orgasm so he doesn't finish 'too soon', a game you've played before with him, and he's already shy about it. It makes sense right now, especially since you're basically letting him use you like a distraction from the absolute shit day he's had, that he doesn't want this to end.

"Ask me nicely," you urge.

"Please can I fuck your pussy?" Luke gasps.

"Fuck yes, oh my god," you answer, kissing him and shoving your pants and undergarments off and straddling his lap. "Need your fingers first though. C'mere," you grab at his hand and pull his digits along your slit.

Luke almost wants to groan in protest, feeling suddenly very impatient, but he practically chokes as he runs his fingers through your wetness. His eyes roll back in his head when he slips a finger inside of you, shocked at your state of arousal, and you loosely wrap your hand around his dick. He starts grinding against your hand immediately and you know you're going to have to slow him down eventually if he wants to last.

"Shit, u-um," he throws his head back to look up at you. "You're soaked. Just f-from having your mouth on me?" he ventures, feeling like he needs reassurance in this moment for some reason.

“Mm! Been– been getting like this since you started making those cute noises while I was patching you up.”

"Yeah?" Luke is soaking the praise up, working his fingers in and out of you and across your clit with as much focus as he can. He's inexperienced with his left hand, but you'd never guess. Your cunt is dripping around him down to his wrist.

"You make such perfect sounds, baby," you promise him. "Ah-h!" you exclaim when he brushes up against that spot inside you, "fuck, baby, keep going."

Luke nods against you. "Keep talking? Please?" he asks, so sweetly.

"I never get used to how big you are. You have such a pretty cock, Luke. Helping me first so I can even think about taking it."

He sinks two digits to the knuckles into you cunt and presses hard on your g-spot.

"Ohh-!! Baby!" you shout, caught off guard. "You're so good– so good, such a good boy f' me."

"C-close," he whines. He's already that far gone, even from this uncoordinated dry-humping half handjob, face a mess, dick literally twitching in your hand from the praise you're directing at him. You take your hand away from his cock since he asked to be denied. He makes no move to stop his motions on you, so you let him finger you open with his hand and play with you for a while longer.

When he's calmed down a bit and you do sink down onto him, your combined juices make a disgustingly lewd wet noise and you both breathe out moans. There's still a stretch; Luke is bigger than most, and you haven't had anyone since he left. You haven't had anyone else since the first time with him, at all.

“I-I was bad," Luke suddenly states as you work to take his length inside your dripping core. Any position takes work to fit his cock in your cunt, but riding him takes the most.

“Oh honey, no, you feel amazing for me,” you reassure, both remembering his insecurity earlier and thinking about how full his cock is making you feel.

“Nno I– don't mean. I mean..." he breathes and pauses, "I thought about you whi-while I was training. I wasn’t supposed to."

"What do you mean?" you ask gently.

"Not 'posed to have attachments. Feelings," Luke gasps, thrusting up once into your soaked cunt before his hips settle into a slow grind. He's toying with the edge of your shirt that you forgot to take off earlier, running his hand tentatively under the seam. He's shy, not meeting your eyes again even though he's literally inside you right now. In a way, you understand that he's confessing something very secret to you and you're reeling a bit.

'Missed you," he says earnestly for the second time this evening when you don't say anything back right away. His gaze finally lands on yours and something is electric in the air. He's practically given you his love confession several times in the last hour but this feels different.

"I don't think that's bad," you say, barely above a whisper. "Not at all. I missed you too," you kiss him again, rolling your hips.

And then, “What’d you think about?” because you can't resist.

Luke's hips go back to a stuttering pace, alternating between grinding up into you and the occasional rogue thrust, like he's holding himself back.

"Uh-uhm," he falters, fighting self-consciousness at sharing his fantasies, but the words start spilling out of his mouth anyway, "The way you smile at me when you're f-flirting. What it feels like to kiss you. A-and I thought about your hands and what they feel like on me. When you hold me, or... or when they're wrapped around- ugh m-my cock."

You gasp, but Luke continues without pause.

"How I wanna fuck you slow in bed in the morning. I'll be good. I-I can make it good f' you. Worth waking up early for," he promises. It's startlingly domestic, but before you can linger on it, he keeps going. "Missed your– haa, ah, your pretty tits, too."

"What about them?"

"How gorgeous they are. How you look when you don't wear a bra. C-can't look away."

"You wanna see?" you ask, surprised he hasn't asked you to take your shirt off earlier.

Luke whines, eyes hooded as he nods. "Please."

You practically throw your shirt off and unclasp your bra in record time.

You shift, pushing your chest towards him where he sits, as a desire to give him everything he's ever wanted burns inside of you. He deserves it. He's supposed to have been solely concentrated on learning to be a Jedi– and he clearly has been training– but on top of it, all he's admitting to focusing on not only just some ancient mystic wisdom but also on you, too. You think you love him.

You run your fingers across the nape of his neck and pull on his golden locks, guiding him towards your tits.

You roll your hips against him, pussy clenching around him as he sucks your nipple into his mouth, rolling the bud over his tongue and moaning with every breath.

"Fuck! D-don't move like that. I-I'll cum. M'gonna cum."

"Want you to," you say, but you stop your motions anyway.

"N-not yet," he chokes out. "You haven't– I want it to be good for you," drooling against your tits.

“Stars, you're so sweet. Look how good you’re being for me right now,” and he is being good. He’s being so good, so considerate, and your pussy involuntarily tightens around him again at the thought.

"O-oh shit, I can't take it, I c-can't fucking take it," Luke voice shakes, and in an impressive show of strength for his current state, he pulls out of you and flips your positions so you're laying on the cot and he rests on his knees between your thighs. He doesn't push back inside you; his cock rests against your clit, and he distracts you by leaning down to kiss you for a moment. It's his way of stalling; you know he needs a moment to hold back from finishing.

Even though it feels nice, the contact is not enough, not when you've had a taste of him inside your walls already, and you let yourself paw needily at him, trying to get him to slip in.

"You're as bad as I am, aren't you?" Luke huffs lightly, amused.

"Yeah," you breathe "I just want you, so bad."

“I– I thought I might've sensed that,” Luke says, almost sounding smug momentarily, happy with your response, "through the Force, but I- I wasn't sure if it was just my own desire," he drops that absolute bombshell on you before he mercifully slips back inside you and sets a rapid pace. Your hands fly above you to brace yourself against the wall of the nook.

"S-shit! Baby! Y-you can hear what I'm thinking?"

Luke groans, dropping his head and trying to formulate a coherent response. "Kind of. It's more like I feel... intentions, if you think really hard about something, I-I can sense–"

Your eyes flutter closed, and the way your cunt tightens around his dick cuts Luke off completely. You're rapidly spiraling towards your own high, his words and his cock wrecking you.

All your energy goes into projecting as much lust as you possibly can at him; you're running through every fantasy you've ever had, every dirty thought about him that's ever crossed your mind in an effort to get him to pick up on your emotions. It works, and Luke has to catch himself with his hand before he collapses on top of you.

"Haah, ahh," he whimpers, "That's- that's- y' feel like that about me?" he asks, his eyes rolling back in his head. He's positively losing control, his hips grinding into yours as he pounds into your pussy.

"Yes," you insist, "god, Luke, you fuck me so good, don't fucking stop."

Luke's cute little whines are coming more frequently, his thrusts more erratic, but he doesn't stop. You know him well enough to know he's not going to be able to hold off much longer, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his thighs nearly shaking with effort. Your own high is rapidly approaching.

"Close?" you ask.

"Y-yeah, been close," Luke answers with a bit of humor. “Please let me make you cum first. I just wanna make you cum first,” he cries out, pussydrunk and unable to think of anything other than his and your impending orgasm.

He sits upright again, pulling you in one swift motion by your hips to meet his, then rubs at your clit, circling you. The last inch of his cock slotting into you and the extra stimulation is the only thing you needed to push you over the edge, grinding down on him and yelling his name.

When you come down seconds later, you're met with Luke's gasping moans and begging. He's lost any self control he was able to display before, falling apart in front of you and inside you.

"Ah-haah, fu-fuck, fuck! Gonna cum, am I allowed– can I cum inside you? Please can I cum in you?" he reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers in his.

"Oh Luke, give it to me, baby, please!"

He groans, accompanied by a nearly incoherent mumbling of your name as he spills inside you, hand squeezing yours. His cock gives a jolt inside of you and the feeling of being filled by his spend makes you topple over the edge again, overstimulated. There's so much of his cum that you feel it drip down your thigh before he even pulls out and you wonder when the last time he let himself cum was at all. He curses and cries out under his breath when you tighten around him a second time, aftershocks still traveling through his body as he collapses next to you in the tiny alcove of the wall.

"Love you," he confesses in a hushed tone as he settles there against you, his face tucked shyly into your shoulder.

"Love you back. You have me," you answer with a quiet confidence. When he looks at you, you see the tiniest pinpricks of tears in his eyes.

"Hey," you run a hand along his back, "it'll be okay."

"Yeah," Luke nods against you. It will be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I don't know how clear I've made it but when I was writing this I was imagining reader and Luke having a sort of on-again-off-again thing (due to the whole Jedi training and extended amounts of time apart) in the past, and that she'd mayyyybe also "comforted" him after Hoth, mayhaps one day I write a prequel to this fic? idk yall know me and following through so no promises lol

#luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker x reader #becca's bs #not proofread #poorly researched and probably poorly written LMFAO #enjoy. this took me so long for no reason #if there’s inconsistency in so sorry

[shares-a-vest]

I know that an Edward Cullen-type version of Vampire!Eddie probably isn't an original thought but, bear with me on this nonsense...

Eddie knows he came back different after waking up in the Upside Down alone. As he made his way back to Hawkins-proper, he noticed his senses were heightened. He had a thirst he couldn't quench when he broke into Steve's house and drank some of his beer from the refrigerator in the garage.

In fact, it made him sick.

Then when Steve caught him, taking a swing with a baseball bat covered in nails, he realised he could read the boy's mind. At the time, Steve was scared... Then relieved... Then thinking all about when they had parted ways to enact Operation Death to Vecna...

So Eddie stopped listening at that point. It seemed private and probably not the most pressing matter anyway because he was most certainly very much alive again. But not... Sort of...

It couldn't be vampirism, could it? He had been chomped up by bats. But he had read enough stories, including the one and only Dracula a time or two. And, if his whole Spring Break had taught him anything, any beast of fantasy and fiction was possible, right?

Though he is still pretty miffed that dragons don't appear to be real...

He finds himself arguing with Steve in his plaid-encrusted bedroom the following morning, curtains drawn. Steve wants to call in the cavalry (aka, Dustin) to talk through his "symptoms" and confirm his suspicions.

"Harrington," he says sternly, "I'm telling you, I'm totally a vampire."

He wants to stomp his foot he's so frustrated with the flustered boy before him. Flustered (okay, annoyed) from arguing about what the hell has happened to him as they stand in the middle of the bedroom, a beam of sunlight dividing them as it streams in through a gap in the curtains.

"Fine," Eddie says as he rolls up the sleeve of his tattered Hellfire shirt, "I'll prove it."

He braces himself, balling up his fist as he sticks his hand in the beam of light.

"Wait stop!" Steve yells and lunges forward.

But nothing happens.

Well, not nothing.

His skin isn't burning to a crisp, nor has he spontaneously combusted.

He is still intact in Steve's ugly bedroom.

But his arm is fucking sparkling like it is made of goddamn diamonds.

"Whoa," Steve says, stumbling upright. He stares at Eddie's skin, mesmerised with his mouth agape as he whispers, "Pretty."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Eddie huffs.

He retracts his arm and stares at his alabaster skin before shoving it into the sunlight again.

And again with the fucking sparkling!

"No!" Okay, now he stomps his foot.

He retreats once more, this time backing all the way to Steve's desk where he slumps onto the chair.

"This is so fucking lame," he pouts, crossing his arms.

"Eddie," Steve beams, striding towards him, "This is great, dude. If you are a... vampire..." he momentarily makes a face, "You can go in the sun! Your life barely has to change. Although I don't know what we are going to do about the fresh meat situation. Does your uncle know how to hunt? Because I've only been once when I was eight with my dad and I - "

Eddie cuts him off with a loud groan as he hangs his head in his hands.

Trust him to become the most pathetic kind of vampire.

#... i hate my brain 💀💀💀 #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanon #vampire!eddie #lilys hcs #just to be clear: yes this is edward cullen slander but trust me i love him and his lameness #sparkly vampire eddie

[torterracotta]

When I heard Gerry Duggan get asked on Cerebro, white boy to white boy, about the unfortunate optics of announcing and then immediately murdering the least white team of X-Men in years, I knew we'd be in for some shit. Man, did he deliver - after some evasive waffling about how ORCHIS is meant to be fascist, and how the story's point is to put the collective back of mutantkind even more against the wall than it was any of the last six times something like this has happened.

And, honestly? That's fair! This year's Hellfire Gala is ultimately the first part of a larger story, and history shows it's not going to last forever — hell, does anyone remember what the status quo was immediately before HoXPoX? At least this time most of the characters have implicitly just been sucked into Mother Righteous's magical Poké Ball, rather than outright killed; if anything, that's an improvement. I was fully content to just think "hey, not for me," and get back to ignoring everything beyond Immortal and Sabertooth, secure in the knowledge that certain topics are bound to be handled poorly when almost everyone in the room is white, when Duggan said three words that stopped me in my tracks:

"Keep the faith."

See, that struck me, because for a lot of us, this entire era of comics has been about nothing but faith. I've been reading X-Men, and engaging with fans since I was eight, and I've never seen the kind of collective buy-in from other marginalized readers that I have with Krakoa. X-Twitter (or, I suppose, X-X) has been Blacker, queerer, more disabled, less homogeneous than the fandom has ever been, all of us buying in to the implicit promise that this time things would be different. Sure, the line was headed by a presumably straight white guy, but there were other voices in the room for a change, and it really felt like they were going to be listened to. We thought we'd moved past clunky metaphor, past queerbaitimg and awkward racial gaffes. Storm and Kwannon were getting to do stuff, Arakko was full of amazing characters of color, Cyclops and Wolverine were probably fucking, we were hooked, and we turned out.

It's hard to overemphasize just how wild this was to see in real time. X-Men has always been allegory, sure, but it's traditionally allegory by and for the majority. For years, the readers who might really feel that resonance, those of us who have been hated and feared for the unforgivable crime of being who we are, we were afterthoughts, tolerated at best. We got scraps, "representation" from creators who seemed to be offended by the implication that we would ever want something other than being fetishized tokens. We were, as Hickman so succinctly put it, told that we were less when we knew we were more. And then, out of nowhere, Krakoa made us inescapable.

The two biggest X-Men podcasts, X-Plain the X-Men and Cerebro, are hosted by queer people. X of Words has been rocking the Black, queer experience like no one's business, Mutant Watch has been a joy to listen to and to be on. Not just podcasts, either, in everything from criticism to fanart to cosplay, voices have been elevated that were previously silent. I mean, hell, I've gotten paid to talk about comics, that shit never would have happened four years ago.

All of that was based on faith.

Faith that we were being celebrated, for once, instead of just used. Faith that for whatever growing pains there might be, things were going to be better.

And let's not fuck around here, there were growing pains. In the first year alone we dealt with everything from blatant whitewashing, to queerbaiting — any Sunspot fan can go into detail there, assuming you can get one of us to stop crying for long enough. While that was going on, we watched Bryan Edward Hill (the only non-white writer in that initial wave) put out a book that was, let's face it, at worst aggressively mid, only to be excoriated by certain portions of the fandom, and dropped by the office, while significantly worse books managed to hold fast — er, hold on. Not to say that Fallen Angels was without sin, mind you, the book was packed with enough orientalism to make Chris Claremont blush. But, at the same time, Wolverine's first year ended with him doing what he does best: trying so hard to be Japanese that I had to check to make sure he wasn't Marvel's editor in chief.

Through all of that, we kept the faith.

Things didn't really get much better, of course. Arakko was a fascinating concept, and felt like it damn near doubled Marvel's characters of color. And yeah, the ending of X-Factor was one of the most poorly handled racist messes I've seen this side of… well, any given day on Twitter. Sure, the whitewashing has never stopped, to the point where everything from X-Corp to this week's Hellfire Gala has had to be hastily edited between previews and release. Maybe we keep dealing with stuff like butchered AAVE, even more queerbaiting, Kate Pryde's funeral, the genocide of almost all of those Arraki characters, and whatever the hell was going on with Lost in Way of X. Maybe there's a very real argument to be made that there's something insidious about three straight years of voting to determine if characters like Monet (who, by the by, has been retooled from "basically Superman" to "Black woman with anger powers") deserve the honor of being written by a white man who's stayed writing with his foot in his mouth. I mean, hey! All my white friends in the scene say he's nice, just like Williams, or Howard, or any number of other crusty crackers who are still proud of tripping over the bar Claremont left on the floor in the 80's!

And dammit, we kept the faith!

Even before the issue dropped, the Fall of X has had a lot of us wary. After all, all of the promotion leading up to it has been white guys saying the minority allegory has had it too good for too long, which, whatever, press copy. We all know they've gotta sell books — they, in this case, being the almost exclusively white, almost exclusively male creative teams attached to all of the books in the line. Sure, as Duggan said, the 616 has a fascism problem, but it’s hard not to see this as a deliberate step back from the almost double digit number of non-white creators these past few years — almost as if Marvel has realized they can make space for a fourth ongoing by their favorite white boy if they just throw out a Voices special every couple of months as a containment zone for the darkies. And, hey, considering how good ol’ C.B. got his foot in the door, I can’t even fake surprise. At this point, it’s a minor miracle any time a person of color is tapped for anything that’s expected to last beyond one issue.

In this issue, as a reward for keeping the faith, we got to see something astounding, something that'd bring a tear to the eye of even the most cynical reader — a team that was only half white. My god. And sure, their brutal murder in favor of a team with Kate "Hard-Arrr" Pryde and the Kingpin(????) was only a pit-stop between the resurrection of the suddenly ashy Ms. Marvel and Lourdes Chantel being killed off for the sake of a white woman's angst yet afuckinggain, but ain't that the dream that Malcolm Ten or whoever died for?

The Krakoan era, ultimately, has been the same as every other. Empty promises by white men who show us time and again that there was never any point in expecting anything better. Any meaning we've found, everything of worth, has been what we've made for ourselves.

We've spent years keeping the faith, Gerry, while you and yours have continued to let us down. What the hell do we have to show for it?

#xspoilers #Hellfire Gala 2023 #X-Men

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

thoughts on sokka and zuko's netflix actors ian ousley and dallas liu (jokingly?) teasing zukka in interviews? are they queerbaiting?

For those who don't know what the fuck queerbaiting is: you know how Disney announced "it's first openly gay character" in literally every movie they've been releasing lately, and these "characters" are always on screen for only 5 seconds so it won't annoy conservatives or be banned in China?

That's them trying to use the promise of gay content to get people (be it gay people or someone that just wants to know if Disney will handle the subject properly) to watch their stuff. It's just false advertizing in rainbow colors.

Netflix, being the cheap bastards that they are, love using "We got minorities in this!" to advertise either their bland, bad shows that will get a million seasons, or the rare good show that they'll cancel way too soon because they seem to be alergic to quality. Either way, the gay content they promise audiences is usually there - you know, it's just not good because Netflix hates good things. Hell, they made Oma and Shu a lesbian couple from what I've seen.

Considering I've heard that the cast of the Avatar Live Action is pretty comfortable dunking on Zutara as a ship despite it being crazy popular and some fans literally only watching the show because they thought it'd make Zutara canon, and even having the balls of saying their show is less problematic than the OG one because they cut the plot of Sokka unlearning sexism, I'd say they're not claiming to like Zukka because some executive told them to, in the hopes of getting people to watch. The actors are probably either two buddies joking around because "Dude, what if our characters got together?" or saw some fanart/headcanon on Twitter and rolled with it.

So no, it's not queerbaiting, it's just actors voicing their opinion - basically the same as the Wedneday situation. The actresses for Wednesday and Enid ship their characters, but Netflix never gave any indication that these two would be a thing, and the internet only cried QUEERBAITING because people can't accept that sometimes the goth girl and the girly girl don't kiss because none of the writers even thought about making them gay.

And before someone inevitably goes "Oh but one/both of them are straight/don't want to discuss their own sexualities - are they queerbaiting when showing excitment at the idea of their characters hooking up?"

1 - Real people can't queerbait because their sexuality is a personal matter, not a product meant for other people to consume.

2 - If Netflix does want to make Zukka a thing (and I've seen nothing to sugest that they do) and starts promoting it, it's the CHARACTERS that would have to be gay, not the actors. I'm pretty sure Zuko's actor can't create/control flames at the palm of his hand, but that doesn't mean he's lying to people, he's just an actor acting. Even if and Sokka's actor have to play a gay couple at some point, it won't be queerbaiting for them to do so and even be excited for it/thinks it makes sense for their characters, regardless of what sexuality they are in real life, because the actors are not their characters they're just people doing a job.

#netflix #avatar #zukka #queerbaiting

[sholangagaga]

What's your opinion on Monty?

Oh I've been waiting for an ask like this to come across my inbox after how popular my Bonnie theories have been. (full theory and spoilers under the cut)

Short answer: I think he's neat!

Long answer: I think Montgomery Gator is one of, if not the, most tragic character in the entire Glamrock cast. And his tragedy, while of course upsetting to see, is also incredibly endearing from a narrative standpoint.

What does that mean? Well, let me explain.

Monty was not made to be part of the band. That much we know in the canon lore. He was his own animatronic, with his own attraction and his own thing. Whether or not he was there from the very beginning when the Pizzaplex was built, or maybe they added him later to bring in more diversity and subvert the burden on the main band, I don't think we'll ever know. (since every main band member has their own attraction, which probably subtracts from their available time to perform main shows throughout the day)

The only bits and pieces we get of Monty's "life" before his joining the band is narrated through the Gator Golf attraction.

Monty's story starts with him as a One Man Jug Band, playing by himself in his swamp.

Now it's already pretty apparent that the Monty we see here is way more docile and doe-eyed than the one we encounter in Security Breach, but maybe that's the point.

We all know the stories of humble beginnings, of rags to riches. To me, Monty was one of those stories. A little guy who ended up catching a big break down the line.

Now to get this out of the way, I don't believe Monty shattered Bonnie or the theory that Monty hated Bonnie (I went into detail here if you want the full explanation). We actually can easily debunk that theory in a few different ways, but the main thing is everything we see about Monty implies he actually admired Bonnie.

In his ride you see how he looks at Bonnie, His Showtime outfit incorporates yellow stars (like Bonnie), and he even still uses Bonnie's bass.

Now if you hate someone, if you hate them enough to kill them and take their place because you felt you deserved their fame, would you emulate that person? Would you use and wear their items, thereby constantly reminding yourself of someone you hate so much? Why would you go through the trouble of getting rid of them, of wiping them from everyone's memory, just to keep things that will always tie you to them? That doesn't make much sense to me.

You could argue that the items are trophies of his 'kill', but wouldn't you keep trophies or things of the like somewhere no one could see them? Why flaunt them and again, bring attention to this person that you hate so very much?

I think it's the exact opposite. Monty admired Bonnie, the depths of which we probably won't ever know the extent of, and when Bonnie disappeared, Monty took his place but never forgot the person who got him there. He wears Bonnie's glasses (which we never see Bonnie wear aside from in his neon portrait, which may imply that he might have given the shades to Monty directly at some time before he was shattered) and he uses Bonnie's bass, which was ALSO given to him according to the Gator Golf ride

I've seen people say that this scene is actually showing that Bonnie was just setting his bass aside after a show and Monty stole it, thereby using it for his own gain and I. . .don't see how people can infer that from the image? It looks like Bonnie is literally holding it out to Monty, who is on one knee and accepting it with respect and a cheerful expression on his face. Besides, you need some MASSIVE balls to just. . .steal a band's instrument after the show and just get away with it? Especially from what we see in game, there'd be no feasible way Monty could do that without the audience or technicians being like "What the fuck are you doing"

So yeah no, this looks like a mutual passing of the torch.

Anyways, Monty uses the shades and bass as a nod to Bonnie, he was a sweetheart with a baby face who got thrown into fame to replace his idol. I think, in some regards, Monty might've felt conflicted. Like, here he is in his dream job, but at the cost of someone he cared about.

You know who Monty DID hate though? Freddy. We can infer from plenty of sources and in game material that Monty HATED Freddy, and the reasoning for that could be literally anything, but it's not odd for a bandmate to dislike their leader/member because they're more popular (you see it a lot in IRL bands too, the favoritism and jealousy)

It's also easy to see that fame changed Monty, as it does for plenty of people. Having so many eyes on you, feeling the euphoria of all the love and attention day in and day out, it gets to your head. It changes who you are, muddles your humility. And we can see that Monty acts in the stereotypical Rocker way, conceited, destroys his greenroom and other things after shows, etc. It's an all too common trope and its sad to see it happen to Monty, though a lot of his rage could also be compounded by Glitchtrap/Vanny/Mimic being annoying (Notably, you never hear of Monty destroying his shades or his bass. Perhaps there are some things that he's oddly protective of)

And then in the main Security Breach, you only meet Monty at his worst. Angry, Corrupted, feral. You spend your time running from him (since Bonnie's shades protect him from most of Gregory's gimmicks), you hear from second-hand conjecture that he was probably the one who shattered Bonnie (which probably weighs on him too, the children asking where Bonnie is, and the technicians maybe side-eyeing him thinking that he's just a meathead who destroyed Bonnie to take his place) and each time you see him, he just gets more and more split from that sweetheart who was happily playing in his swamp.

Not to mention how he "dies"

Monty comes for Cassie, ruined beyond salvation, his mind still gone from all of the torment he endured being controlled and shattered over and over. To save herself, Cassie uses the Faz-wrench to activate the power and escape, only for the electric currents to turn the water into a death trap.

The thing that decommissions Monty, that finally puts him out of his misery, is Bonnie. That's Bonnie's neon portrait (a bit damaged from the dilapidated building) and it is the very thing that electrifies the water, destroying Monty's hardware. Whether or not its karma for Monty shattering Bonnie, or some sort of heartfelt prose that the thing that finally allows Monty to rest is the one person he cared about most, who's to say? You could argue it both ways, but isn't it just a tad more comforting to think that even in death, Bonnie was always looking out for his understudy?

Monty's story and character progression is a trope of Falling from Grace, of Icarus flying too close to the Sun and plummeting to the unforgiving earth. The more I learn about him, the more I feel bad for him. I think he deserved better. Roxanne for her redemption in Ruin, but Monty is left open-ended. A monster and murderer to some, a washed-up rocker to others.

But I think Montgomery was more than that. I think he had the capacity for gentleness and love, but he was in a position where the world was against him. His older and more experienced bandmates always destined to be loved more than him. He was basically an entry level teenager around mastery level adults. He might've lost his mind back then to the pressure and the negativity, resorting to violence for attention. No one was there for him, and Bonnie, the only person who probably would've been there for him and understood him better than most, disappeared without a trace, leaving him all alone in a world that would never fully accept him.

Yeah, I like Monty a lot.

#what a character #him and roxy had the best character arcs #but they obviously ended in different ways #with roxy being able to shake free and redeem herself #and monty dying all by himself #oh #my heart #fnaf security breach #security breach #fnaf #shoucan says #five nights at freddy's #shooting the shit with shoucan #fnaf ruin dlc #security breach ruin #ruin dlc #fnaf ruin #montgomery gator #fnaf montgomery #glamrock monty

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super Movie 1: Broly (2/3)

Well, enough of that flashback stuff. Let's move on to the present.

So after the destruction of Planet Vegeta, uh all of Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, and Dragon Ball Super happened. This is kind of a weak point for this movie, because it's story is rooted in Goku's origin tale, but the climax takes place when Goku's a middle-aged man, so a lot of lore has happened in between. There's a similar thing going on when Raditz and Frieza show up in DBZ, and when Broly made his debut in the 1993 film, but Goku was 24-30 in those stories, so it wasn't quite as big a strain.

The thing is, the stuff we had to skip over was extremely important, and the movie simply can't go over all of it. If someone who knew nothing about Dragon Ball watched this thing, they would probably think that this is a story about Goku and Vegeta trying to avenge their people by defeating Frieza, except that already got dealt with in 1991. Goku, Vegeta, and Frieza have each been killed and resurrected... twice. This movie doesn't have time to explain all their baggage, much less how Goku and Vegeta became pals. So no one even tries to fill in the audience on who this big purple cat man is. You either saw Battle of Gods or you just have to roll with it.

And you know what? Good. No one was there to explain Ox King or Mr. Popo to me when I first got into this thing. I've been watching this stuff for a quarter century, and I still don't know what the fuck Tien's third eye is all about. Context is for the weak.

Anyway, this scene takes place on a private island Bulma bought some time ago. She had a resort built here so Goku and Vegeta could spar without damaging West City. And the food is good, so Beerus and Whis tagged along, although neither of them really have any impact on the plot at all. Whis asks Goku why he wants to get stronger, and Goku explains that he's feeling inspired after the recent Tournament of Power arc from the tail end of the DBS anime. Vegeta, on the other hand, is only concerned with Frieza, who was restored to life during that storyline. Frieza's more powerful than ever before, and Vegeta expects him to get even stronger and menace the Earth again.

Sure enough, Bulma gets a call from Trunks as Capsule Corp, who informs them that Bulma's collection of Dragon Balls and the Dragon Radar have been stolen by goons wearing Frieza Force uniforms. But the joke's on them, because Bulma only had six of the Dragon Balls collected. The seventh is on the Ice Continent, so they know exactly where to go to intercept the thieves. Beerus doesn't want to tag along for the trip, so Bulma leaves her infant daughter Bulla with Beerus.

So what was Bulma planning to wish for? She admits that she was going to ask Shenron to make her look five years younger. Why only five? Because if she got too young all at once, people would think she had work done.

So what does Frieza plan to wish for? Immortality was what he wanted on Namek, but not this time. No he only wants to grow about five centimeters taller. Why not just use his second or third forms to be tall? Because he wants to be taller in any of his forms. Why only five centimeters? Because he wants it to seem like he's still growing.

I've never been too happy about this gag. I mean, it's a good gag, but I liked it better the first time, when Commander Red planned to use the Dragon Balls to make himself taller. It does add some complexity to Frieza's character, though, since he's not just stubbornly trying the exact same routine that got him wrecked on Namek, and then killed on Earth, and then re-killed on Earth again.

This time, he's not trying to take the Dragon Balls by force, because he knows Goku and Vegeta are too powerful to challenge head-on. So he's using stealth instead. The minions he sent to Earth are weaker guys, which mean Goku and Vegeta wouldn't sense their ki. And it seems like Frieza's plan is to just sneak down to Earth, make the wish, and head out before anyone can stop them.

And he's not pursuing the same wish he had twenty-odd years ago. Really, Frieza was never that interested in immortality in the first place. He only decided to wish for that because it was the one thing he didn't already have. But now he's been dead twice over, and that's given him a new perspective on life and death, and he seems to think being unable to die would be similar to the unending torment he experienced in hell. Neither does he seek an invincible body. I'm not sure Shenron could give him greater strength, but Frieza feels that would take all the fun out of "the game". If nothing else, it's interesting to see Frieza consider this at all. Back in the Namek Saga, he never thought about wishing for greater power, because he believed he already was the strongest in the universe. Now that he knows otherwise, he seems fairly content with that.

Meanwhile, we meet the last two players in this drama, Leemo and Cheelai. They're operatives in the Frieza Force, but they're not warriors. Leemo's been with the Frieza Force from the beginning, and Cheelai's a recent recruit, having joined up to avoid the consequences of stealing a Galactic Patrol ship. Their orders are to find more warriors to join the Frieza Force, since their ranks are pretty threadbare. Remember, when Frieza destroyed the Saiyans, they made up half of his fighting force. The other half was still quite formidable, but all of his best troops ended up getting killed during Frieza's disastrous invasion of Namek. Then Frieza came back and tried to attach Earth in Resurrection F, and he brought like a thousand soldiers with him, and those guys all got killed as well.

As Cheelai observes, Frieza is down to women and old men like herself and Leemo. There just aren't many warriors available in the universe these days, because all the good talent got killed off a long time ago. As they discuss this, Leemo picks up a distress signal from Planet Vampa. Thinking their might be a reward for it, they head over to answer the call, and find...

Paragus! Also a bunch of alien monsters. Fortunately, Paragus isn't alone...

They also find Broly on Vampa, and he's all grown up and stronger than ever. Their scouters measure Paragus' power level at 4200, which isn't too impressive these days, but it's way better than anything the Frieza Force has at the moment. And Broly's power is too high for the scouters to measure, so they definitely want him to come along. On the way to Frieza's ship, Cheelai feeds Broly rations and takes a liking to the big guy.

When the four of them report to Frieza, Paragus explains that he had to cut off Broly's tail because of the frequent full moons on Vampa, which cause Broly to lose control of himself as a giant ape. Occasionally, Broly still loses control of himself anyway, but Paragus can rein him in using...

... a shock collar, which he can activate with a remote control. Leemo and Cheelai are horrified to learn of this, but not so horrified that they turn down the generous reward Frieza gives them for their discovery.

Now, one thing that always bugged me about this movie is that Frieza immediately starts making plans to use Broly against Goku and Vegeta. He wasn't planning to attack them this time around, but now that he has Broly on his team, it seems much more favorable. Later, when the fighting starts, Frieza is disappointed to find that Broly can't transform into a Super Saiyan, but why would he expect Broly to be able to do any of that? Sure he's a Saiyan, but Goku and Vegeta have mastered power levels far, far beyond what other Saiyans have ever dreamed possible.

But I keep forgetting that Frieza can sense ki these days, the same way Goku can. Back in the Namek Saga, Frieza had to rely on scouters like the rest of his goons, but when he trained to become Golden Frieza in Res F, he learned to sense energy. So when he sizes up Broly, he's not just guessing at how strong this guy is. He can actually perceive the untapped potential in Broly's body, and he seems to recognize that Broly would be capable of giving Goku and Vegeta a hard time. So it makes sense.

Anyway, Paragus is happy to cooperate, since he still despises King Vegeta for what happened, and he's down to attack Prince Vegeta to even the score. And Broly has to do whatever Paragus wants or he gets another shock.

Later, Cheelai tries to get to know Broly better, but Paragus forbids Broly from speaking. While they argue over this, another henchman tries to drunkenly hit on Cheelai. I really like how Leemo tries to defuse the situation here. He's not a fighter, so it suits his character that he'd try to employ a nonviolent solution, like offering to buy this guy a drink. Being a noncombatant in the Frieza Force, he's probably grown accustomed to swimming with the sharks like this. But it doesn't work, and then Broly steps up to use a non-nonviolent solution, which is violence.

But Paragus doesn't want to offend his host, so he gives Broly another shock. Cheelai confronts him over this, and while she chews him out, she swipes his remote control. Then Paragus gets summoned to talk with Frieza. While he's gone, Cheelai destroys the remote, and they listen to Broly tell the story of his green fur wrap.

It's a pretty simple story. The closest thing Broly had to a friend on Vampa was one of the large green creatures on the planet. Paragus used the creature to train Broly, goading it to attack, and then having Broly dodge it. But over time, the creature became accustomed to Broly, and they became pals. But Paragus wanted the creature to be hostile, so he shot its ear off with a laser pistol to piss it off. Ever since, Broly has kept the ear and wears it as a memento of their friendship.

I like how easily Cheelai and Leemo sympathize with Broly in this movie. They're not good guys at all. Cheelai's an opportunistic thief, and Leemo's a cog in Frieza's evil empire. But they're not heartless, and Broly's story is so tragic and innocent that you can't help but feel for the guy. Leemo compares Paragus to his own rotten father, so you can tell that he can relate to what Broly is going through. And Cheelai can tell when someone's being used. Paragus can dress it up all he likes, but he's just using Broly's power to serve his own selfish interests.

Moving on, Frieza's team on Earth have located the seventh Dragon Ball, and Frieza's fleet moves in to join them for the wish-making. But Bulma, Goku, and Vegeta get their first. They probably would have arrived sooner, but Bulma wanted to stop somewhere to buy cold-weather gear. Let's just take a moment to admire her safety-yellow snowsuit. She looks like a baby duck in this thing and it's great.

Frieza confronts Goku and Vegeta and introduces Paragus and Broly. I never really noticed these guardsmen who stand by while Frieza steps out of the ship. Paragus should have gotten one of those uniforms, since that pink shower curtain he's wearing looks dumb as hell.

I mean, look at Goku. Bulma got him a sweet blue coat and he looks like a million bucks. He tries to convince Paragus and Broly to get along as fellow Saiyans, but that doesn't get him anywhere. You'd think he'd know better by now.

So Broly's rarin' to go, and Frieza sees no reason to make him wait, and it's on. Broly attacks Vegeta, and that brings us to the final leg of this movie, which we'll cover next time.

#dragon ball #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #dragon ball super #dragon ball super: broly #broly #goku #vegeta #frieza #paragus #cheelai #leemo #bulma #whis #beerus #bulla

[ccuniculusmolestus]

Trip to Rome NSFW? I can't help but wonder if the revelation of the diary happened after they did it. I'M LIVING FOR THE ANGST

Ah yes, a fellow angst connoisseur! (Winterbunny fans, seek help) (/affectionate)

Also I rlly hope I amswer this ok I've written and deleted like 1920192 paragraphs bcd I wanna answer properly LOL

I'm working on a fic for this but I seriously don't know what order to put things in, or maybe I'm just lazy!!

I would like to think it makes most logical sense if:

They're fighting a lot during the Rome trip

A fight turns kinda steamy idk

They have a good night's sleep after thats over.

Henry's migraine has been coming on for a few days at that point but hits full force the next morning

BECAUSE Bunny is relatively more comfortable being closer to Henry now* he becomes even more entitled and snoops around for his diary cuz he's bored (I think Henry was bed ridden for a couple days at that point)

We all know, that like, Bunny didn't really care about the murder. I domt even think he cared about being left out. I think what REALLY got to him was the stuff Henry had written about him. We only know about "cuniculus molestus", which is relatively tame, but knowing the extent of Henry's annoyance with Bunny, I think its safe to assume he REALLY went in whenever he chewed Bunny out in his diary

Like, imagine you have a friend who you get very close to, thinking that you've made a nice connection with someone (which is rare for you). Then you start feeling like this friend, once you guys become close, is using you for your money. THEN this friend starts acting like an entitled brat and practically makes your life Hell.

I'm not saying Henry was obsessed to the point of just filling his diary with "raaarghhh i hate bunny he is so stupid dumb bitch" but whenever he WOULD write abt Bunny it would be callous, like, detached at best, cruel/insulting at worst.

*this is purely my headcanon, based on no like, factual evidence (yet) but I think Henry and Bunny were physically intimate way before the Rome thing, but they just never talked about it, or acknowledged it outside of the moment of close proximity (mainly because Bunny didn't want to face his possible bisexuality diagnosis and Henry just couldn't be arsed). Plus it happened rarely. I feel like they'd become more physically comfortable with each other immediately after they were intimate (caressing each others heads/petting one another, leaning on one another, like soft intimacy) but afterwards they'd kinda avoid one another for a few days, and especially avoid touching each other (like even the brush of a hand) because it would make Bunny uncomfortable (hes homophobic)

Based on this I think

Bunny felt even more entitled than usual to Henry's belongings and personal space, so he went snooping around his stuff when Henry was dead asf

Also, based on their already established intimacy, Henry mightve written some cruel things regarding the more intimate parts of their relationship/vulnerable aspects of Bunny.

Because I guess he was like, "Hes not ever going to read it so I can just vent my frustrations here) (WHICH, I had a whole theory a while back about how Henry intentionally left his diary around for Bunny to read....so maybe he wanted to get the ball rolling to have an excuse to get rid of Bunny) (that's a link)

But also. Theres another possible twist , like, what if Bunny found the diary first? And the fight that ensues after turns into something else purely because they're being vulnerable with one another in the moment.

Henry, in his desperation to get Bunny to shut the fuck up, and Bunny, in his explosive anger (also, cliche movie scene moment 🤓 Bunny won't shut up and Henry's afraid someone might hear them and he's also lowkey enjoying Bunny screaming at him (toxic) so he just grabs him and kisses him)

Honestly I wanna explore both scenarios in two separate one-shots BUT like, I don't wanna be repetitive w my fics like the people (my 2 readers) probably want something new (they don't care)

#LOVE GETTI G ASKS #thank u for the ask! #i hate this ship its the worst btw #they give me a HEADACHE #me when the toxic gays are being toxic again #can they shut up #ask #the secret history #bunny corcoran #tsh #henry winter #tsh donna tartt #winterbunny

[noodyl-blasstal]

Promising Union

We made it! Day 30 of @taznovembercelebration which means I've written 30 fics in 30 days and had an absolute blast. Thank you to @ceilingfan5 for all of their hard work in organising taznc. I've had the best time rolling in the taznc tags.

Today's prompt was "three" and then I clicked until I got an AU which was "superhero". You can read below or on Ao3. Missed yesterday's? Catch up here!

-

Kravitz feels like he lives in the staff canteen now. He’s used to the ebb and flow of it, has managed to time his day around it. He makes sure he’s there to cover the stand at breakfast time, gets on with work until mid morning, and then sets up is ‘ask me anything’ sign again at lunch time. There’s no point in standing and smiling through the afternoon, no one’s really around. There’s three times a day, three chances to talk to people about what Kravitz could do for them, and three chances to get snubbed repeatedly and relentlessly.

The free pens had helped, but they’d cleaned him out pretty fast and no one had actually joined up. No one had even really made eye contact. He understood they were busy, a superheroes work is never done, yada yada yada, but that was exactly why unions were important. He and Sloane had worked really hard on the sidekick down time requirements, they shouldn’t be doing day shifts into nights without a proper break between and they definitely shouldn’t be working more than 40 hours a week - especially not fresh out of training. Supers shouldn’t really be doing it either, but there was a whole mess around ‘vocation’ and ‘voluntary’ roles which he and Sloane were still knee deep in resolving. It would help if the membership was representative and not just a few supers who joined up because their parents had always been members.

Kravitz cracks out a box of stress octopodes. There had been a slight issue with the stress ball order (he actually intended to get oranges), but the tentacles were comforting to squidge. Maybe that’d lure some people in for him, or, one specific person. A tall guy with a long blonde braid and seemingly never ending layers of clothes (maybe his super power was pockets?) had been eyeing Kravitz appreciatively all week. Well, he thought so… maybe that was conceited? The man might just be admiring Kravitz’s impeccable taste in tailoring… the attention had certainly encouraged him to dress more elaborately as the week went on. But he wanted to believe it was an interest in him, not just the way he was packaged.

Kravitz was hoping this was the day he’d finally be able to lure him in, the guy didn’t seem bothered by the pens. On Tuesday Kravitz had smiled when he caught the guy’s eye, but he just winked and then turned away before Kravitz could do anything else… Which was probably for the best because Kravitz had really only planned that far anyway. Your move, mystery man. On Wednesday he was fairly sure there was a little bit of flirting, the man came and took a card, but he took it realllllly slow. He wasn’t here yet today, but he tended to show up for the mid-morning coffee rush so Kravitz wasn’t worried. Any minute now. Sometimes he had company but mostly he was on his own (and seemed relieved about it.)

“Interesting choice of stress relief.”

Kravitz wishes he could say he didn’t jump, but he did. The fucking display board with all the union benefits blocked his view so whoever it was snuck up on him.

“Feel free to take one.” He puts a smile on and leans round the board to see the man. Ha! He knew a better freebie would do it.

“Nah, Taako’s good.” Says the man, drawing three into his rainbow cardigan so quickly Kravitz can almost believe he didn’t see it happen.

He’s wearing a ridiculous hat today, definitely not approved uniform. It doesn’t have any protective properties as far as Kravitz can see. The rest of his outfit isn’t much better, sleeves which are long and prime for catching on obstacles, and the many layers would be simple to grab and restrict his movement with.

“Okay.” Kravitz says, instead of lecturing him about theft or uniform code. Kravitz is cool, he’s hip, he’s sexy. He can break rules, he can take more than the one per-person approved freebie.

“So, what’s your handle, bones?”

“Bones?”

“Are you asking me why I’m calling that, or confused about your own name?”

“Kravitz.”

“That’s not a reply to either of the questions Taako asked you.”

“Sorry… I…” Shit, he’s fucking this up. He can pull it back round. “Question one, my name… er, handle…” He regrets it immediately, slang always sounds weird coming out of his mouth, cool people like Taako can tell he’s not made for it, he powers on anyway. “...is Kravitz. Question 2, where did bones come from?” Kravitz wants to know so he can make everyone else call him that too. His Mums use Kravitz without fail and Sloane alternates between Krav and ‘oi dickhead’, so this was nice.

“Nice to meet you Kravitz.” Kravitz starts to offer Taako his hand to shake. “But why the fuck are you here?”

Oh. He didn’t anticipate this. Kravitz’s hand drops limply back to his side. He belatedly tries to pretend he was stretching and watches Taako’s mouth twitch. Thankfully he controls the impulse to laugh because Kravitz is fairly sure he’ll melt into a puddle if Taako laughs at him right now. He’s doing such a bad job of marketing the union that his presence is being questioned and he’s not exactly known for responding well to criticism of his performance.

“Union stuff.” He says, just about keeping his voice even.

“You’d have more luck next door.” Taako indicates his head.

“What?”

“Well no one here cares.”

“You don’t care?” Kravitz desperately wanted Taako to care.

“Oh no, Taako cares.” Taako provides another lingering look. “Taako is very invested in you.” There’s a pause. “...r union.”

“Are you a member?” Kravitz perks up. Maybe he can get another sign up. Maybe Taako will tell his friends and they’ll join too?

“Taako isn’t really here.”

“Uh…” Kravitz isn’t really sure how to break the news that he very much is. How could he steal an unfair amount of free stuff if he wasn’t? “You, you are actually here though… you know?” Before he can consider how inappropriate it is he reaches out and prods Taako’s arm. “See.” Fuck. That probably wasn’t a great sales technique.

Taako’s looking at him like he’s lost his grip on reality. Is he hallucinating? Did he get bored enough that he just invented a man to look at? Is he currently talking to himself in public?

“No, Taako’s not here if you get my drift.” Taako raises an eyebrow and looks very intently at Kravitz like he should be able to make sense of it.

Kravitz can’t.

“Oh, I see.” He says and nods sagely. Because admitting that he doesn’t know something is physically painful for him. He’s working on it, it’s fine.

“Good, I knew you were cool. Come on then.” Taako gestures for Kravitz to follow him.

Kravitz does, nothing’s going on here anyway, he can’t bear to overhear Captain Neverwinter banging on about politics again either. It makes him feel slightly murdery. It’s fine. He's working on that too. He’ll probably figure out what Taako meant from context clues, plus, if he gets new sign ups then Sloane won’t even pretend to be angry about him leaving his post.

Taako strides down the hallway, Kravitz is grateful that his long legs help him keep pace. He and Sloane aren’t allowed to come this way, the front entrance is only for the big name heroes, so they just use the lift in the staff entrance when they run the promotional events. He concentrates on keeping his head down and keeping up, he’s not entirely sure he’s authorised to be here.

“Taako was pretty sure you’d be game, so cha’boy got you approved for next week. It’ll be better than the snoozefest over that side.”

Maybe there was a second canteen where all the hip young heroes who cared about workers’ rights hung out.

“Here we go!” Taako turns down a dimly lit corridor. The lights flicker ominously.

“This one?” Kravitz asks tentatively. There was probably some kind of form someone needed to fill out about this.

“Natch.” Taako says and offers his hand. “I’ll hold your hand if you’re scared.”

Kravitz definitely isn’t scared, he grabs hold anyway.

Taako’s warm and comforting and rubs a steady thumb across his knuckles. It’s nice, soothing. Kravitz could get used to this.

They reach a door all too quickly, but Taako doesn’t let go, he just scans his pass, then there’s a thumb print, retinal scan, and some kind of situation where he whispers into a box. Kravitz isn’t trying to keep track, he’s too busy trying to work out if this means Taako’s important, like really really important. Is Kravitz being taken to the management corridor or something? Shit… maybe they didn’t have permission to be there that week? Sloane said she did the paperwork, but maybe there’s been a mix up? Kravitz can’t be in trouble, he’s not emotionally robust enough to handle a disciplinary meeting without getting bitchy. Sloane’s warned him plenty of times.

On the other side of the door everything’s different. It seals quietly behind them, just a series of hisses and clicks letting Kravitz know that he definitely won’t be able to turn round and go back the way he came, which he should do, because apparently Taako’s somehow taken them to the supervillain lair? On purpose? He had the pass… Shit.

“Are you bad!?” Kravitz blurts out.

“Is this a roleplay thing? Taako didn’t think we were there yet, but I can be a bad, bad boy if that’s what you need?” Taako looks excited enough that Kravitz feels bad delivering the follow up.

“No, evil-bad!”

“Well I’m not a super, am I?” Taako barks out a single laugh as if the notion was ridiculous.

“What? You were in the canteen!”

“There’s no way cha’boy could be that conceited. It takes too much effort. Taako was just scoping the coffee situation, then he found something nice enough to look at that it kept cha’boy coming back for more.” Taako looks pointedly at Kravitz.

“But… I didn’t recognise you!” Taako can’t be a supervillain, Kravitz would have seen wanted posters, he would have seen him on the news, like Kreigan, Queen Quynh, or Dr Diomed. There was wanted posters for them everywhere!

“Well I’m not exactly going to do crime dressed as myself and visible am I?”

Huh. Kravitz had always wondered why some of them didn’t disguise themselves. “No… I guess that makes a lot of sense.”

“Anyway, this isn’t regulation, imagine the shit these sleeves would get snagged on?”

Taako has never been sexier.

“And the way someone could grab…”

“... my cardigans if I was turned away.” Taako finishes. Because he’s perfect.

“Uh huh.” Is about all Kravitz can manage because he’s busy staring at Taako with what is probably undisguised lust.

“Cha’boy’s all about health and safety.” Taako continues. “My mask is fun and functional.” His voice is dropping, getting richer, low and sultry.

“It’s important.” Kravitz nods to reinforce his point and swallows thickly.

“Anyway.” Taako starts as he sees something over Kravitz’s shoulder, then spins and lets go of Kravitz’s hand in one move. “Here’s the canteen.” He chivvies Kravitz into a large room full of rustic looking wooden furniture.

“Taako!” A tall man and a shorter grizzled one barrel through the door behind them, panting slightly as if they’ve been running. “Is this the guy from the shit canteen?”

“Taako has no idea who you’re talking about.”

“You know, the hot one… uh… what was he called… er… Kravitz!” says the tall guy.

“The Kravitz you’ve been talking about all week?” Adds the shorter man.

Oh, interesting. Taako has mentioned him! There’s no need for anyone to know how many times he may have talked about Taako this week in exchange. Sloane definitely hadn’t started a Taako jar to fund their monthly food truck foray. This definitely makes it slightly less embarrassing.

“Taako has never said anything to anybody in his life, now scram, this is business.”

“Hi, I’m Magnus Burnsides!” The tall man says and shakes Kravitz’s hand heartily. Not evilly. Interesting.

“The name’s Hightower. Merle Hightower.”

“No, it’s Highchurch.” Cuts in Magnus.

“Ssssh, I was using my alias.” Merle hisses back.

“We all have downsides to jobs we love.” Taako says. “And these are mine. Anyway, moving on!” Taako grabs Kravitz’s hand again and pulls him away from the others.

“Oooooh, they’re holding hands!” Says Magnus and raises his phone up. “Smile!” He yells.

Kravitz does, because he’s nothing if not good at following direction… well, most of the time.

“Lup’s gonna love this.” Magnus says happily.

“Can you fuck off now?” Taako asks.

“We’re nowhere near you!” Merle reaches out his stubby arms and waves them around. “See!”

Taako looks like he might implode. He turns to Kravitz. “Do you wanna go talk somewhere more private?”

“Oooooh! Talking.” Magnus sing songs, then taps away at his phone some more.

“Okay.” Kravitz says, he definitely isn’t opposed to being alone with Taako, although he’d also like to thoroughly quiz the others about exactly what Taako has said about him and whether it was good. It probably wouldn’t look good to throw Magnus his card.

“Taakitz! That’s the ship name for them. Magnus, tell Lup!” Merle tugs Magnus’ arm excitedly.

“On it!”

Taako’s mouth is slowly disappearing into a thin line. “We’ll go to my office.”

Kravitz lets himself be tugged along. He doesn’t care about which direction they’re going, he just wants to ruminate on the fact Taako talked about him. Taako talked about him a lot!

“Okay handsome, let’s get the important thing out of the way, do you wanna bone down with Taako?”

Kravitz very much does want to bone down with Taako. First he’d like some more time to take in the abject horror of his office because it shouldn’t be possible to get this many things in this small a space or for all of them to be different colours, but he manages it. The couch does, however, look very comfortable. Well padded arms. “Yes.”

“Excellent. Point b, 2? Did I do some kind of number or letter system? Fuck it, it doesn’t matter. Villains are a better market for union stuff. Hench people need caring for and most people consider it, we’re not monsters, well, morally, but some of us could be better. Plus, the training programmes can be brutal and we need someone fighting our corner. Frankly, it’s long overdue.”

“Oh.” Says Kravitz, because he’s not sure why he didn’t think of this himself.

“Yeah. Exactly. Plus, I hear that when you join you get great deals on contents insurance and with the way the supers keep smashing up our fucking lairs we need it.”

“You do, we have a 42% off deal with Abvgal, but you can also get some cash back if you switch your premium mid-year and trust me, it’s usually worth it. Their staff are great, you can just use the summoning sigil and someone will get back to you super fast, you talk face and face and they can survey the damage there and then.”

Taako nods approvingly.

“Plus, the one everyone forgets, you get 15% off at Paloma’s.” Kravitz adds conspiratorially.

“As in Paloma’s with the scones?”

“As in Paloma’s with the scones.” Kravitz nods smugly.

“Well you can sign Taako up right now.”

“I’d love to.”

“Right after we…” Taako crushes his lips against Kravitz’s.

It’s stupid and it’s perfect. He’s going to get a new sign up, he’s going to get laid, he’s going to do something ridiculous like ask Taako to be his boyfriend. Kravitz kisses back, hard, you can’t say something stupid if you can’t speak. He’s a genius.

Kravitz barely registers the fact they’re moving until his knees connect with the sofa and he falls backwards into it, he doesn’t let go of Taako as he goes. It’s probably illegal to do this on the clock, but he technically hasn’t taken lunch all week so it’s fine. The feeling of Taako’s thighs bracketing his and his mouth moving against Kravitz’s is more than enough to convince him that the rules didn’t matter right now.

“Form?” Taako pulls his lips away briefly before Kravitz tugs him back in.

Kravitz pulls Taako closer with one arm, fiddles with his satchel with the other. Taako snakes a hand down to help depress the catch while he pulls it free then does something so sinful with his tongue that Kravitz abandons it completely.

“Pen?” Asks Taako, some time later.

Kravitz takes the opportunity to lick the column of Taako’s throat. The corresponding gasp fills him with pride. He did that. He could do that again. He does.

“Pen” He says, and presses Taako’s hand to his chest pocket.

Taako apparently forgets about the pen, instead, takes his time to run his hand liberally around the area. He squeezes appreciatively.

“Okay, so I just gotta fill this out?”

“Yeah, then we’ll be in touch.”

“I think we’re in touch right now.”

“That was appalling. I should leave right now.”

“You don’t want to though?” Taako asks, and there’s more concern in it than Kravitz would have thought possible. Taako’s some suave villain, he’s probably never not hooking up in his office, Kravitz is just lucky he found a gap in the schedule.

“No.” Kravitz says, and pulls Taako down so that he can kiss him softly, gently, reverently, exactly the way he deserves.

“Name.” Taako says and taps the pen against his lips. Kravitz is never going to be able to look at it again without thinking about this.

“Mmhm.” Kravitz says and nuzzles Taako’s neck as he scribbles.

“Date of birth.”

Kravitz kisses Taako’s collar bone. “Address… trying to angle your way back to my place on the first date, interesting.”

“This is a date?”

“It could be.”

It could be!

“Can we have another one?” Kravitz asks.

“Another first date?”

“Yes, our first date, and then first date’s alias.”

“Sounds good, Taako’s in. You can choose, cha’boy sorted the location for this one.”

It’s the longest anyone has ever taken to fill out a membership form. Kravitz loves every second.

–

The week in the evil canteen is the most productive they’ve ever had, and not just because of the interest in the new man Blink’s been seeing. Their hench policy is set to be ready within the month and they’ve had to order more of the octopode stress tentacles.

Kravitz quite likes the dark side.

#Thank you so much to everyone for your kind tags this month it's been a tonne of fun to read through them #taz nc #taz november celebration #taakitz #Noodyl Writes #Balance #TAZ Balance #taz spoilers

[morallyinept]

A full transcribe of JAVIER PEÑA'S dialogue/lines from the TV show NARCOS.

S2/E2 - CAMBALACHE

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

Well, I suggested that he stay home. You mentioned making some changes. What exactly does that mean?

Murphy’s a good agent. He’s done a lot of good work down here. 

Sounds to me like the guy would’ve had a dog sniffing up his ass before he got on the plane. Maybe Steve did him a favour. 

Ma’am-

We’ve been down here a long time. You’ve been down here all of what, two hours? 

It may not make the front page, but… a lot of the intel we have is because of Steve. He’s a good man. He’s going through some shit right now. You know, he was at the airport to stop his wife from leaving the country with their kid. He didn’t make it. Add that to watching Escobar build a five-star prison and then walking out the back door. We both deserve to see this through… boss. 

__________________

Have you, uh… had anything to eat in the last 24 hours?

Only what I’ve heard. She’s out of New York. Doesn’t put up with any shit. 

I don’t know. 

Take a shower. Sober up. Talk to you. 

__________________

One more fuck up, Murphy…

Is it gonna happen again?

__________________

Yeah.

__________________

Fuck me. 

__________________

Get ready to get your balls snipped. 

__________________

We can’t take that to Pinzón. He’ll laugh us out of the office. 

(In Spanish) We need more. 

(In Spanish) Where did they see him?

Maybe we can get Centra Spike to do a flyover, see what they come up with. 

I’ll be right back. 

__________________

It’s a long story. 

Look, just do me a favour and ask them to sweep over that specific area. We’re looking for any chatter from Escobar’s sicarios. Anything at all. You recognize a voice, you come get me. 

__________________

You can probably eliminate the smaller ones, not Escobar’s style. 

This one here. It’s rough terrain down the back of the mountain, but it’s drivable. 

Great. What about Pinzón? We’re gonna need vehicles, we’re gonna need men.

__________________

What did he say?

__________________

He was here. 

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier pena #pedro pascal characters #javier pena narcos #javier pena dialogue #pedro pascal character dialogue

[rattytaffy]

So iv slowly been working on a The Sun and Moon Show fic.

I've been on the fence about posting anything of it all. Mostly due to the fact I cant edit for spelling in google docs any more and my spelling is HORRIBLE!!!!

However a good friend convinced me to try anyway.

However on that note I am a newer TSAMS fan and am no ware near caught up with it. I have only gotten to "Eclipse's SAD ORIGIN STORY in VRCHAT" and am trying to avoid to many spoilers. I also have stayed largely away from the fandom for that reason This story starts after Luner gets his own body but before blood moon dies. This fic is about magical humanoid versions of Sun and Moon and Eclipse (security breach) seeking out TSAMS Moon for help. After this TSAMS Sun and Moon wind up mixed up in a second Celestial family's drama. OCs will be used when necessary to fill empty rolls. The fic is under the cut. If anyone finds it interesting ill try to continue it and probs post it to my AO3 when i have time and energy. I also very much need help finding a title for this >.<

It was quiet for the moment.  Lunar had his own body and was doing rather well, killcode was active but had made a deal with moon.  Sure there creator said something about a sister named earth showing up at some point, but she hadn't yet.  Blood Moon was a problem and potentially Eclipse but it was unsure if he was even out there any more.

There where problems yes but at the moment they were not in Suns face and he had a moment to do the daycare cleaning he had not had the time to do in detail.  Yes a quiet day to clean and record some videos was exactly what he needed

SHOMSH

Sun Fliped around to the ball pit as the tell tail sound of an interdental portal opening.  Moon was home Luner was home. who the hell could be coming threw there?

in the ball pit where two largely human looking figyers.  they looked alot alike as they clung to each other.  One had golden hair and clear crystals  floating in the air around his heads like suns rays.  the other had white hair, blue crystal rays that had orbs and crescents at there bottom.  Both looked haggard as they held each other. They stood even hunched over weekly taller then any human hell they were tall enough standing strait they were as tall as Sun. there skin was an inhuman color the one with golden hair and clear crystal rays looked like his body was made of tarnished gold, the other with the blue crystal rays looked to be made of silver.  There facial features were largely human and if Sun where to guess they seemed to be in there early 20's

The one with blue crystals looked at sun "Is there a Moon here? one with magic?" his tone was desperate bordering on panic

"I'm not answering that untell I know who you are!" Sun answered coming over the barrel with the gun hidden in it in his hand

"I'm Eclipse, this is my brother Sun.  There's dimensional counterparts to us here" the one with blue crystals explained watching as the robot Sun stiffen at that "Please our brother Moon is sick and dying. WE need another Moon with magic to help him" The not human not seeming to be there Eclipses counterpart Eclipse begged.

"Well I'm Sun, " Robot Sun said looking skeptical

"Thank fuck" The not robot Sun said stumbling forward and nearly falling untell Eclipse grabbed him "Please at least let us talk to him." The not robot Sun's voice became high pitched with strain.

"how can he help with your moon" Robo Sun asked skeptically

"I want to know that to" Moon, the robotic one, Said as he landed from his jump off the balcony.  It was rare another version of him or Sun came by.

Not Human Sun looked at Robot Moon like a man offered water in a heat wave. "His magic has become completely unstable. Only another Moon with magic can stabilize it it."

"Please this is the last jump we can make" begged the Not Human Eclipse

"What happens if i don't?" Robot Moon asked. He knew he probably would go help but it was best to have all the info you could. Not Human Eclipse looked sick and stuttered some before Non Human Sun took charge "We end his suffering and seal the magical wounds left in me and Eclipse before we fall ill to"

"Please" begged the Not Human Eclipse "We don't want to lose our brother" Robot Moon sighed "Fine Suns coming with me" "Thank you" Said Not Human Eclipse "Its a big jump but we have an anchor at our uncles house to make it easier" "Most of our family is there but they won't bother you while you work" Not Human Sun assured them The home was despite the oppressive air of dread, cozy. The walls were painted with abstract murals wherever a shelf or hanging display for knickknacks wasn't. There were large windows but each was covered with a blackout curtain. The many lamps were all low bathing the space in a soft warm light that wasn't really strong enough to read in. It was clear under normal circumstances this home would be welcoming and easy to relax in.

However in this moment the comfortable couches were taken up by more creatures like the Not Human Sun and Eclipse all with there heads hung. One with wrinkled dress shirt on and black slacks stood from his spot between two much younger members of his species. He looked a lot like Not Human Sun with crystal rays that spun around his head those his seemed to be made of amber rather then clear. His skin looked like Bronze and his four arms were folded close to his body clearly from nerves "Oh thank fuck" he said his voice tiered and gravelly "I'm guessing your the Moon?" The Humanoid that was sitting next to the one that got up launched to his feet. This one was small and short probably no more then 5 foot with a singular large crescent crystal in light blue floating over his head.  His blond hair was a mess and he was so shyly sunk into his huge sky blue hoodie it was hard to see much of him.  "You found another Moon who can help?" he asked desperately the voice just like Luner's "Luner lets not get in there way"  Said the other Not Human this one with liquid gold shaped into ray shaped points. Robot Sun looked at this one in fear as he realized this sounded like there Eclipse... If he hadn't gone threw puberty yet.  This one was taller then the Luner with black hair and skin that looked like copper. The Not Human Luner glared at him. "Soler is right Luner" said a truly massive one of these beings.  With 6 arms standing easily taller then Robot Sun or Moon even while sitting.  He was dressed all in black and sounded much like a very tiered KillCode.  In his arms was a small child of there species dressed in red with several spinning star shaped smooth crystals that were a blood red. The child couldn't be more then 7 and was simply refusing to let go of the larger beings coat. The Not Human Luner rolled his eyes but went to sit back down led by Soler. 

The one with rays and four arms sighed deeply and looked at the last being in the room. This one also four armed but was distinctly fem with a set of swooping crescent horns going down the back of her silver hair. "Let me take the other Moon to see ours Albedo.  You comfort Furry and our Nephews" Albedo sighed and his four arms dropped to the side. "Alright Lune." he turned to Robot Sun "Come sit with us ill enplane what i can while your Moon works" Robot Sun looked nervously at his Moon Robot Moon shrugged and followed Lune up stairs while sun went to sit with the other. The Not Human Sun and Eclipse had already stumbled to a free couch and simply collapsed in it.

Lune opened a door at the top of the homes stairs.  It was a bedroom and completely dark. On the bed was what Moon didn't need to be told was his counterpart in this world. The being had porcelain like skin that was off color like it was sick. Long black hair tangled with the feathers of raven wings that twitched slightly sometimes. The being had one crescent with and orb between its points. They weren't floating however just kinda flopped on the pillow. Robot Moon could feel the magic gushing out of the Not Human Moon like an arterial wound. "You must enter his mind with magic, Find him and stabilize his magic. Model it after your own, but if he insist something goes some ware do so. You have one chance Moon, but once your magic connects with this Moon it should stabilize him for however long you need to work." Lune said softly "Should you be able to do this all of us will be in your debt" Robot Moon nodded becoming more and more horrified at watching a version of himself so sick "yah I got it from here" Lune nodded and left the room quietly shutting the door behind her "Better get to work" Muttered Robot Moon as he reached out to the other Moon casting the spell to enter his mind.

The other Moons mind was a haze of dark clouds. In the center sat the being his hair in his face shoulders shaking in sobs.  Before him a large low table colored green with dozens of little colorful blocks no bigger then the wooden kind you would give a toddler scattered over the table, the other moon and the foggy ground below. "Hay" said Robot Moon

Slowly the other Moon looked up and for a brief moment hope flashed in his eyes. His brothers had done it his brothers had managed to find another Moon and one with magic.

The Robot Moon sat across from the Not Human Moon.  Up close it was clear the beings hair was matted, tears streaked his face. His shoulders where slumped in defeat and sorrow. "So they found one?" "Clearly" Said Robot Moon "What's all of this" he gestured to the blocks scattered about "Its a metaphorical manifestation of my magic" the other Moon said weekly picking up what looked like a minecraft grass block. "It looks like a minecraft diorama" Robot Moon said picking up a block. Like someone hitting a gong magic reverberated for a second hard between them. 

Slowly other Moon took a deep breath starting to relax. "Eh magic can appear in weird ways in the mind. Though I'm guessing MineCraft is your worlds version of CraftyBlocks" "That is such a dumb name" Robot Moon said setting the grass block down on the table where it felt right. The block glowed slightly and seamlessly attach itself to the table. "Of course MineCraft isn't much better"

#rattywriting #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf dca #fanfic #fnaf fic #tsams #tsams au #the sun and moon show #TSAMS fic #The fic needs a name so bad #Working title is Celestial Chaos #largely because the Not Human characters are a species called Celestials #cw illness #iv got a lot of ideas for this #I love questions about my fics and aus #1700ish words #if there's interest ill post more probably here and at AO3 #please don't give me TSAMS spoilers i am still trying to catch up!!! #I figyered out a name for this!! #Power Creep AU #In reference to how video games have characters reach ridiculous power levels when you get near the end game.

[almost-a-class-act]

Miscellaneous Tag game

Tagged by the beautiful faces of @softguarnere and @mutantmanifesto !

Favorite place in the world you’ve visited?

Iceland. Around every corner, a postcard view. Absolutely unreal. I can't believe it exists.

Something you’re proud of yourself for?

I went to an alumni event over the weekend for a big club I used to be a part of at my university, and heard from a few people that I made them feel welcome and included in the group when they first got there. A few "you probably don't remember this, but..." It was really fucking nice.

Favorite books?

The Alice books by Lewis Carroll.

Something that makes your heart happy when thinking about it?

I missed a call from my nephew on Messenger Kids the other day and then he sent me a drawing of a stick man simply titled "Gustavo".

Favorite thing about your culture?

Tough one, I'm a mayonnaise-blend Canadian. We make sausage every year so I suppose that's a fun holdover from ye old Europe days.

When did you join the HBO War fandom? What was the first show you watched?

I watched The Pacific circa 2012 and then I sort of forgot about it until I watched BoB in the fall of 2020.

Have you read any of Easy Company’s books? If so, which ones were your favorite?

I've got the Ambrose book and the Babe & Bill book under my belt. I own the Malarkey book which I've been told is fab but I haven't cracked it yet. My favourite HBO War book is (say it with me!) Helmet for my Pillow.

Favorite HBO War character and your favorite moment with them?

Robert Leckie, and it might be that bit at the end where he's snarking about having fought for television. That feels like book Bob Leckie to me. (And it doesn't hurt that Vera gets a kick out of it!)

Do you make content for any fandoms, if so; what sort of content?

I write fic primarily for HBOWar and Justified these days.

Favorite actor/actress and your favorite film of theirs?

Andrew Garfield and everything he does puts a damn branch in my eye.

Favorite quote/s that you wish to share with others?

"In the eighth inning, you can't hear the roar of the ninth. All you can do is hold yourself together, and trust." Jim Abbott

Random fact your mutuals/followers don’t know about you?

I collect shot glasses. I have a big 'ol shelf of them from all over the world.

If you’re a writer, do you need a beta reader (say yes so I can be your beta reader 🤭)?

@fayestardust reads most of my stuff before I post it so she can tell me where I invariably left entire words or plot points out. Thanks ma belle!

Three things that make you smile?

My French press, summertime lake swimming, sucking nearby friends into whatever fandom black hole I am currently in.

Any nicknames you like?

My ball team calls me a nickname that won't make sense unless I explain a tedious sports pun to you, but otherwise I don't think I've had too many nicknames that have stuck.

List some people you love to see around on tumblr!

@mutantmanifesto and @cody-helix02 post my fave art. @mercurygray is just one of those fandom bright stars. @onehelluvamarine is a real sweetheart.

There are a lot! It's 11:30PM and I'm tapping out. But I see all y'all.

What would you do during a zombie apocalypse?

I am a backwoods camping gal so I have a water filter, camp stove, dry food, etc., and I live pretty wilderness-adjacent. You guys will have to come track me down if it turns out if was a false alarm.

Favorite movie?

Goon.

Do you like horror movies?

Love 'em.

Tagging: @educationalporpoises @dukesoakedoats @heystovepipeboys @batmanschmatman @terresdebrume @vintagelavenderskies @eoinmcgonigal @lionsaint @fayestardust

#tag games #tumblr pals

[journey-to-the-attic]

thot..... its unlikely ik gets out of seven sin things in a row totally fine right? hear me out. what if being in all their inner worlds like that 'stained' her with their sins somehow. so ik gets like an overload of the entire thing?

idk im just rlly over mc constantly and thanklessly doing the most for the brothers in nb so i want ik to get some of that good hurt/comfort too 😭

i really can't tell if you're calling me a thot or if that's your way of writing 'thought'... but, anyway-

yess [rubbing hands together evilly] this is good fodder for angst!! i think it could mix with the idea that being in the past is also taking a toll on her in a more direct and tangible way - like mc and solomon beginning to lose their magic (though... they seem to have forgotten about that in recent lessons??)

i feel like what happened with lucifer during his own Sin Thing probably was a triggering factor... i've said before that ik just kinda goes through nb with a very "fuck it we ball" attitude, because the only way she can cope with the stress of the whole situation is to be super happy-go-lucky about it - and it's been alright so far, because the brothers have taken well to her, but it's not like there aren't moments (especially early on) where she's treated kinda poorly

it'll be better by the time the sin stuff all happens, but all the same ik's kind of on her last nerve, so lucifer snapping on her is just the last straw. of course, at the time, she managed to pull herself together long enough to resolve the situation - and lucifer did immediately go "shit" and start trying to salvage things - but then things kinda got lost with lucifer being 'cured', so i don't think ik really recovered

the 'sin staining' thing is a super cool idea! it makes sense too, since i see the brothers 'inner worlds' as a sort of snapshot of their soul at that point - their deepest thoughts made physical - so it makes sense that ik would be affected by entering them during the Sin Stuff, since i figure there'd be high concentrations of that dark energy or something

i'm not yet completely sure on how her symptoms would manifest, though... i imagine all seven sins combining would make for an absolute mess of emotions, so when she crashes, she crashes hard. might be an opportunity for her to just go genuinely unhinged - constant swinging between moods, between painful clarity, where she's begging for help, and incoherent delirium, where she's so lost in her own head that she doesn't know the difference between hurting herself and taking care of herself

she gets a concentrated dose of each other the brothers' own emotions that led to their own Sin Thing (which i shall henceforth call their singularity, aren't i clever), which would mix with her own anguish about being trapped in the wrong time - plus she'd probably be beating herself up for being 'ungrateful, or else about the sort of things the seven deadly sins would make you think

solomon would probably have to just put her to sleep for her own safety.... i don't think the brothers could just pull the same inner world trick ik used to help them, either, because it's not just an ik thing, it's also all of THEIR things interfering and corrupting her mind. barbatos could do some weird time magic maybe????

#sorry this is all just hurt no comfort rn #answering asks #anon asks #ik gets nightbrought #solomon would be so furious about all of this btw. like tiger mother when her child is beaten up at school levels of fury #storms over to the hol like 'i trust you with ONE thing. i trust you to NOT fuck up my ward and YOU CAN'T EVEN MANAGE THAT.'

[pbaintthetb]

Lol watched Book of Mormon (and hoo boy possibly actually one of my faves I've watched on stage. Plot is average at best but the goddamn choreo and the lights- the act 1 finale? I digress) thoughts

You can never go home again, or more accurately, You can never go to Orlando again. Anyway Price probably needs a few years to resort his head and life before he can go to Orlando and appreciate it because currently I don't think he can seperate what he wants (needs) Orlando to be from what Orlando actually is...

Orlando and Salt Lake City are the same in the sense that neither of them actually exist and they're metaphors (ignoring the fact that they do, both exist). Both Nabalungi and Price songs about their favourite fictional (real) real (fictional) place are kinda tragic because it reveals the things they view about the world as fact. Hence why this place is so special. Yes comparing Price's pretty first world problems with Nabalung's concerns is a bit of a stretch but also it kind is the same thematically.

I do hope Nabalungi can get what she wants from Salt Lake City though, although not necessarily in Salt Lake city idc.

The vibe I had in the interval was that it was possible out of district 9 Price is the only one to have actually read the Book of Mormon, cover to cover. Cunningham explictly hasn't, the conversation about "latter days" made me wonder if the other mormons only kinda read it which-

leads onto my thinking that like Price's relationship with Mormonism is, in many ways, more academic/clinical. Like he's got that kind of obsession with religion that I personally associate with people who don't actually believe but either A. really want to or B. really want to disprove it. Price is firmly in A, but yeah like I feel like Price needs Mormonism to be real where he is in the plot (Orlando. If mormonism is real he can go back to Orlando. And it's worth it.) But he doesn't necessarily actually have that spark of genuine belief the other District 9 elders have ya get me? Like he knows it back to front he knows the logic, adn in the coffee scene talks about how a lot of it has always seemed nonsensical and incoherent to him. It's a set of rules and guidelines but idk if Price actually has like core real belief/faith.

When those extra rows of lights came down for Man Up near the end of act 1? Oh yeah you bet we were all in for a fantastic time then, you know good stuff is gonna happen

The lighting in Sal Tlay Ka Siti was beautiful, like I mean the actress's performance and voice were great too, but the lighting really sold the like kinda hopeful tragic nature of the song. She's so happy most of the time but that song, ugh, the tree branch gobos, the visible beams, the colour KSJDFJS:LKDF

Lol disco ball.

The set? It's so detailed? And they get it up so fast? LIke I know they drop blacks in "You and me (but Mostly me)" so it's more than the black out, but STILL?

Again, how do they get the waistcoats on so bloody fast in "Turn it off"??? (I do actually have theories about this but that's not the point, it's stilll so cool)

Maybe this is just the run i watched, but like the Mormons, other than being dressed the same are all roughly the same height (except Cunningham) so their numbers are so extra cool because they really do kinda blend and move as one unit and it's so cool to watch. Especially Hello and Two by Two where they all have black ties.

Did they just start a new cult at the end? Curious what most of the mormons are gonna do when they leave Uganda. Also curious if their parents got an angry phone call from the mission president and are just like.... why aren't they home yet???

BFN is an elder now? Okay... not gonna touch that and how that happened

Nabalungi's dad is fucking hilarious omg his delivery this guy

The only song I'd heard was "You and me (But mostly me)" but I had been told of the spooky mormon hell song. The latter slapped. Did not have Atilla the Hun playing flute on my bingo card that day.

^I loved the blacks coming in from all sides to trap Cunningham out of "You and Me (But mostly Me)" and leave Price as the star also like I knew the song but teh first "but mostly me" cracked me up

One of the incorrect names Cunningham called Nabalungi was "Nigel Farage" lol. Couldn't hear much of the dialogue after that.

About the incorrect name, Nabalungi has the patience of a saint for sure.

Oh during teh play i couldn't watch half of it because I was too busy watching the district 9 elders, but mostly Price reacting to it. It was hilarious. Price looked so fucking happy but like he was trying to hide it and was clapping Cunningham on the shoulder at one point.

As a musical, it's incredible, and it properly contextualises a few things people have said about it and how long it's been running. By "as a musical" I mean the general production of it n shit. The plot is pretty average, the songs have funny lyrics but a lot of the numbers probably won't hold up so well on sound track for me personally- but when you're watching it??? oh yeah. Oh yeahhh.

Oh, the pipes on the guy playing Cunningham, man. MAN.

You can never go to Orlando again.

#Book of Mormon #this is more for my personal reasons so I can recall my thoughts on it in the future #you can never go to orlando again #I don't think price lost his conviction or faith in mormonism but rather his conviction that mormonism was worth having faith in