#YOU HAVE GOT TO BE THE DUMBEST FUCKIN SMART GUY I KNOW

[bellezabelize]

This is one of the saddest scenes in shameless for me. The way Lip goes on these rants, all Frank style, is hearbreakin'. And while I normally feel like I understand Ian the most out of the characters from the show (being bipolar and doing crazy shit while 'm not fully myself), I also know a thing or two of being exactly like your father in the worst way possible.

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Another OJV friendship that is my fav is Kenny and Kyle, I was wondering if you wanted to talk about them because I live for your Headcannons and tumblr extras 🤓

I ALSO live for the headcanons and tumblr extras and OK ORANGEJUICEVERSE KENNY AND KYLE LETS GOOOOOO!!!

So like, Kenny is EASILY styles closest friend other than each other. And OJV Ken is pretty much everyone’s go-to, like Stan running to him when he feels like he fucked up, Marj and Cartman knowing Kenny’s down with a scheme, but it’s a little different with Kyle.

Kyle is 100% the mom friend of the group. And the WHOLE REASON he’s like that with everybody is because growing up, he was the one to jump in as the voice of reason (especially when the Disaster Duo gets goin) and always took care of his people. And who needs taken care of the most? Kenny.

Kyle is CONSTANTLY scolding him for not taking care of himself, doing crazy shit, yes he’s amused by a lot of the antics, but when the logic takes the forefront, he’s all Sheila mode “DR PEPPER DOESNT COUNT AS WATER ESPECIALLY IF YOURE GOING TO A BLOOD DRIVE” “aw it’s fine Ky I got it covered” “no,” *throws a water bottle at him* “I’ve got YOU covered”

Kyle’s super supportive of Kenny’s career, too. That’s not only his bestie but also his metaphorical son. He is SO hyping up every new painting and sculpture, the first person Ken shows new work to bc not only is it gonna be a confidence boost, but Kyle will also have suggestions when he’s stuck.

Kenny, our darling chaotic comic relief friend who hides his own issues behind a grin and a joke and a guardian angel complex, is VERY protective of Kyle. Nearly as much as Stan is. OJV Kenny is a LITTLE GUY, even shorter than Kyle is, but he’s POWERFUL and has every creative solution to get the gang out of a bind, and he’s really friendly with everyone he meets, and people automatically open up to him. On top of that, he is REALLY good at reading people. Kenny’s super perceptive. He sees when someone in his found family has something going on, even before they say something. Ken was the first to be suspicious of what was going on with Ky in high school, brought it up to Stan, who said “I know dude. He’s stressed as shit but I don’t want to piss him off by telling him to relax”, like Kenny does people EXPERTLY; at 14 he knew it wasn’t his place to stage an ed intervention and knew he had to wait for Kyle to hit the point where he either hit rock bottom or came forward on his own.

On the note of Kenny’s emotional intelligence, I mean, come on. Artists in particular see creative solutions to problems, read the energy around us. And Kenny… oh my GOD that boy is a force to be reckoned with in strategy. Which is WHY he and Kyle are BANNED from teaming up in any game. They’re too powerful together. Poker? Fuckin forget about it those two are DESTROYING EVERYONE they are way too smart and between Kyle’s own abundant perceptiveness and Kenny’s people skills they’re not fucking around lmfao. I also find it extremely iconic that while both Ken and Stan are super smart, you put them together and they are sharing a singular brain cell, doing the dumbest shit, and Kyle is RIGHT THERE telling them off for it.

Kenny is so so incredibly thoughtful though too. He is absolutely the person you want to go to if you need a shoulder to cry on, and Kyle, who is the other person in the gang who gets relied on emotionally a lot, does go to him.

Thank u for the ask man live laugh love orange juice

[meadowmines]

WIP: The Bit, chapter 3

[who has two thumbs and fucking finally finished the first draft of this fucking chapter? this guy

anyway, this happens shortly after the bit ceases to be a bit]

The next few minutes go by in a blur of wrong turns and dead ends and Majima decides he’d like five minutes in a locked room with the architect and a baseball bat. And when they finally do find a nondescript door with an exit sign over it way in the back past the can and the office and God knows what, Kiryu scoots up ahead of him and holds out a hand to stop him where he is. 

“Let me check it out,” he says, and Majima makes a little indignant noise and rolls his eye but at the same time he can’t help getting just a little bitty case of the warm fuzzies. He hangs back while Kiryu, bless him, opens the door and sticks his head out... looks around a little longer than is really necessary... and then ducks back in and shuts the door very, very quietly. 

“What?” Majima prods. “Shit goin’ down out there?”

“That’s, uh...” Kiryu clears his throat. “One way to put it? It’s...” What kind of face is that? Is he blushing? “...busy.” He’s definitely blushing and he doesn’t need to elaborate on what exact kind of busy the alley behind a gay dance club might possibly be.

Well, what did they expect? That nobody else would end up horny tonight? Probably just as well, Majima doesn’t find the idea of making out in an alley all that appealing right now, he can only imagine how squicked out Kiryu might be about it. “Think we can make it home without gettin’ kicked outta the cab for hanky-panky crimes?”

Kiryu grimaces a little. “We might have to--shit, wait, my client!”

“Hell of a time to remember ya got day-job business tonight, ain’t it!?”

“No! It’s not--the one with the guy on the side, I just remembered, he said they meet up at a love hotel around here.”

“Now you’re talkin’. He give you the name? Last thing we want is to go strollin’ into the wrong one.” 1989, remember?

“Yeah, he did but...” Kiryu shakes his head. “I didn’t think we’d ever actually--something about ships or the sea or something, I’ll know it if I see it."

“Fuck it. Good enough.” Majima grabs Kiryu’s hand again and drags him back through the club, back out the front door, and down the street.

Now. Even in 1989, most people are going to see a jacked six-foot-forever dude wearing a gangster suit and a dude wearing an eyepatch and a snakeskin jacket with no shirt and visible gangster ink under it running down the street hand in hand, and they’re going to be smart and say to themselves you know what, I don’t see shit and keep walking.

Most people.

Most people.

Most people, aside from the motherfuckers hanging out right in the middle of the goddamn road when Majima turns a corner hoping this will be the corner their fabled boat-sea-whatever gay-friendly love hotel will be parked on. No, these geniuses see a giant in a gangster suit and a crazy bastard in snakeskin and circle the goddamn wagons around them, all the while saying a lot of shit that this narrator who definitely doesn’t sound suspiciously like Majima is not going to dignify with a transcript. It’s 1989. You can guess. What exact stupid shit these buttballs are saying isn’t important anyway. What’s important is that they’re picking the wrong fight, with the wrong people, at the wrongest possible time.

“Really?” Kiryu sighs as the dumbest shakedown squad in recorded history closes in around them. "Now?"

“Goddamn cockblockin’ sonsa--” Majima definitely wasn’t planning to bring truth to the rumors about how they do foreplay and shit tonight, but here they are. “DO YA FUCKIN’ MIND!?”

And it’s on.

[lilisbigworld]

"Bye Joel," Ellie murmurs sadly, resting her head on her arms on top of the window sill as she watches him walk down the street.

Half an hour after he set out from the house, Joel arrives back at the edge of that base, clenching his jaw as he studies the structures and barricades they've set up.

Smart people, he'll give 'em that.

But they took Tess. And left him alive. And that's the dumbest thing they ever could've done.

He quickly approaches the first guard on duty and throws a punch so hard that the impact sends the boy to the ground. Just a teenager, it looks like.

Joel doesn't give a fuck.

"Your leader. Who is it."

"Somebody call Kathleen!" The boy yells hoarsely, holding his cheekbone. This has to be the guy that she told everyone to watch out for. The guy she honestly, probably, should have just killed.

A bunch of raucous later, a woman emerges calmly from one of the nearby buildings, several men flanking her in heavy duty military gear.

Great. A bunch of former soldiers who think the world fuckin' owes them something because they got to legally kill people. Sometimes the bad people, sure- but everyone knows the government ain't always clean. And neither were those boys.

People need to make split-second decisions to save their lives or the lives of others. Joel knows that. But he also knows that some of them would just as quick commit murder and label it self-defense.

Especially that cocky son of a bitch to the woman's right. He looks like a real pain.

"You must be Joel," Kathleen hums, giving him a small, pleasant smile.

"As if you didn't already know that."

"My goodness- for a Texan I expected more manners," she tilts her head, "Tell me, why do you keep your driver's license? It's not like you need it."

"Never know. I'm here to take back what you've stolen from me." He studies her closely. She appears unarmed. Even if he gets rushed by G.I. Joe over there, he'll at least get her body on the ground first. And that's all that matters. Sending a message.

But- he has two girls to get back to. Two girls counting on him. If he gets gunned down here, you and Ellie won't ever be protected. And Tess won't be able to find you if she manages to escape.

"I'm afraid that's not possible," Kathleen's voice softens, shifting into a tone that makes Joel's gut do a flip.

"Where's my lady?" He asks roughly.

Kathleen frowns, as if she's deep in thought. "What was her name... Tara?"

"Tess."

"Oh- yes of course. Tess," she nods slowly, 'Well I hate to tell you, Joel, but Tess is no longer with us."

Joel tilts his head, "Where'd you send her then?"

Because the other meaning of 'no longer with us' isn't possible. Isn't bearable.

"Oh sweetie..." Kathleen sighs softly, "No... she's no longer with us. She's dead."

"You're fuckin' lying," Joel straightens. What else could he say?

"I'm afraid I'm not. We were going to keep her so we could continue to grow our population but she just fought too hard and wouldn't shut the fuck up," she huffs. "So we had to do away with her."

"You fucking bitch," he breathes, though the words almost get caught in his throat. "You could've let her go. We woulda left without fuss- we weren't here for trouble in the first place-"

"We wanted to ensure you weren't part of Henry's-"

"Who the fuck is Henry?" His voice raises.

Kathleen shrugs. "We see now that you did not know him. And it's unfortunate that your family has been broken apart in such a way-"

"YOU DID IT." He pulls his pistol from his belt, cocking it as he levels the barrel right with her forehead. "I will kill you where you fuckin' stand."

And it sounded like a great plan to him.

Until, just as he anticipated, several guns cock around him, even with red sights, the dots decorating his jacket.

And it's far more guns than he imagine.

At least the death would be quick. He's not so sure Tess got the same mercy.

Joel gulps, stunned by the tears burning his eyes.

Tess is gone. His Tess. She suffered a painful death without him even near to comfort her.

He'll never forgive himself for that.

"Honey, you should just leave," Kathleen nods sincerely, "Really. We let you go because we're merciful. Don't test my patience or generosity. We sent you and your girls with supplies- if I were you I'd take them and get the fuck out of my city. Count your losses on the way."

Joel subconsciously takes a small step back, his ears ringing.

Or is he imagining that? It can't be real. Nothing exploded.

"One of these days..." he breathes, nodding a little as he gestures to her loosely with his pistol, his finger off the trigger so they know he isn't planning on shooting, "One of these days you'll get exactly what's comin' to you. All of you sons of bitches will. Especially you," he levels the soldier on the right with a cold glare- a look that the soldier would never admit gave him shivers down his spine. But it did.

Joel slowly backs away and turns his back to the group once the dots disappear from his jacket, feeling pretty confident none of them will shoot him at this point.

Even if they did, at least he'd be with Tess. And Sarah.

Tess would want him to keep going. For you two. So you could have a good life.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whispers, his face crumpling, "'m so sorry." He only lets the tears fall when he's several blocks over, away from anyone's prying eyes. At least he hopes.

By the time he gets back to the street you're on, his feet are nearly dragging beneath him, his body so tired from the stress of the day.

What... is he supposed to say to you two when he gets inside? How can he even get himself to say it out loud?

His life partner is gone. His life partner, who made him believe that this life could somehow be the least bit good.

Whatever hope he had, whatever progress he'd made toward a more positive mindset... it's gone.

It died with her, when he was several miles away and unconscious. Helpless. Useless.

Some protector.

Ellie perks up when she sees him coming, "Lili! Joel!" She looks around for Tess, her smile slowly fading. "Where... where's Tess? She's not with him..."

I move quickly to the window and go on my toes to look out of the very bottom, “told you. Dead like my Mama.”

[artdecosupernova-writing]

Fictober '19 Prompt No. 19 — "Yes, I admit it, you were right."

Category: Fanfic Fandom: Tales From the Borderlands Rating: T Timeline: an AU sometime before the beginning of the game CW: spoilers and strangulation because it's kinda par for the course y'know Word Count: 893 Additional Notes: this was my first piece of fanfic in QUITE a long time. probably like...five or six years? I'm so rusty 😩

***

"Oh, perfect."

The cubicle gremlin walking far too close behind Rhys for no other reason than being a cubicle gremlin unaware of his surroundings didn't anticipate him stopping abruptly, causing him to smack into his CEO from behind. Rhys, who had gone rigid with terror enough to root him to the floor, barely noticed as his employee ricocheted back into a potted plant and knocked dirt all across the hallway.

Rhys spun around, not to make sure the guy was alright—because at that moment he didn't even know he existed, let alone the custodian loudly cursing him out from the corner—but to make sure what he'd heard had not actually been spoken and that he'd only imagined it had been spoken in the voice he'd had nightmares about for the last two years.

"Mm," the voice said again. "You're not gonna find me over there, cupcake. A little to your left. No, more. A liiiittle more…ha, nah I'm just fuckin' with you. I kinda like the coziness of your cybernetics. Feels like a lil' house for me."

Rhys broke into a cold sweat, unsure of what to do. He realized then that his right hand had clenched into a shiny metal fist without his knowledge.

"…I have a tendency to burn down houses, in case you've forgotten."

The robot arm shot up and its powerful hand closed around Rhys' throat, shoving him violently into the wall, pinning him with a titanium grip. Another hand materialized around the wrist, not at all blue and noncorporeal like he'd expected, but flesh and blood, white-knuckled, holding so tight with unprecedented strength that when Rhys attempted to fight back, the arm sparked and whirred in protest.

"Tell your little peons," Jack growled in his ear, signature masked face fading into Rhys' peripheral, "that Daddy's fine. Nothin' to see here."

Rhys, bug-eyed for several reasons all at once and in desperate need of air and circulation to his brain, glanced at the small crowd gathered near the end of the hall. They stared at him, alarmed.

"I'm…f-fine," Rhys managed to eke out. "N-nobody…come help me…or…a-anything..."

"We've got a lot to chat about, Rhysie baby," Jack said. "So move along to your dinky office like a good boy and I'll pretend you didn't just try to subtly hint that you're in dire need of rescuing. Not that it matters," he added with a smarmy chuckle. "To them, it looks like you're just having one of your run-of-the-mill mental breakdowns. Real cute, kinda disconcerting for the CEO of a major corporation."

Rhys looked him right in the eye. "Wh-why…should I…do anything you s-say…?"

"That's just…not a smart question. Possibly the dumbest question ever asked in the history of the universe. You are strangling yourself. I am making you strangle yourself. You wanna be defiant? Sure, I got no problem ending your miserable life right here."

"You're not…real..."

Jack's smile widened until it stretched across almost his entire face and he leered at Rhys with a predatory gleam in his eye. "I don't think I need to be, do I?"

Rhys slumped into the plush fabric of his office chair minutes later, throat already badly bruised as well as his ego. He held a glass of ice from his minibar up to his pulse point and watched Handsome Jack do a slow spin in the middle of the room, nodding in approval at select pieces of decoration.

"Yeah, I'll admit it," Rhys croaked, "you were right."

"You're gonna have to be more specific."

Rhys cast his gaze to a point over Jack's head—one of the three oversized gaudy-as-hell chandeliers that came halfway down from the ceiling. "We're not so different. You're right."

"Yeah, I'm really just here to get a hold of your business and ruin your life, so if you could save the platitudes and shove 'em right up your scrawny ass, that'd be great."

"You're not gonna succeed, Jack. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that."

"Here's the thing," Jack said, taking his sweet time to make his way over to the desk. "I'm not in your cybernetics. There's no way I could be."

Rhys rolled his eyes. "Right, after the 'cozy little cybernetic house' comment I'm supposed to believe—"

"This is all your brain. I can't tell if you snapped after Pandora or somethin' miswired or if you just…were so obsessed with me that you long for my presence and infinite wisdom—"

"Gag me."

"Oh, we'll get to that later—but I'm not in your eyeball anymore. I'm right…up here." He jabbed a finger at Rhys' forehead and he felt it; sank back in his seat at the unexpected contact, eyes wide. "Or am I? Who's to say I'm not real? Will you ever truly know?"

Rhys, still shellshocked about being able to feel the finger on his skull, dropped his glass of ice and shot his chair back so fast it toppled over with him on it. "No…no, you're not real. This is…this is a very elaborate prank. I…I'm in a nightmare. I gotta wake myself up..."

Jack perched himself on the desk, propped his feet up on the overturned chair, linked his hands behind his head. "Wakey, wakey! Rise and shine and smell the roses covered in skag shit, sweetheart, 'cause I'm here, and you're not gettin' rid of me this time."

[59writes]

SEVENTEEN- REACTION: THEIR S/O GETS INJURED (PART 2)

(PART ONE)

part two of @honeyylin ‘s request!!! sorry it took so long honey ㅠㅠ

also check out honey’s acc!!! they’ve recently started writing fic so give em a visit!! <3

today’s photo theme is green green green green green green green green green green

(I didn’t proofread this I will when it’s not 5 am lol)

tw: food, injury

SEOKMIN

• *insert terrified screaming*

• yikes. this man. this poor fellow.

• he’s so worried about you!!!

• like. you’re fine. it’s not a big deal you just won’t be able to walk without crutches for a while

• but this man PHYSICALLY refuses to go to work

• Jihoon even comes to your apartment to beat Seokmin’s ass gently request he come to work cuz they kind of need him

• but no, because “y/n needs me more!!”

• please you’re fine. you can walk and you work from home already. you’ll live. You’ve been injured before.

• this goes in one ear and out the other!

• he will stay home and baby you and peek in your room every ten minutes like “hey are you ok???? do you need anything???”

• it’s kind of endearing

• the calls you keep getting from Seungcheol and Jihoon are not though because SOMEONE keeps forgetting to “call in sick” to work!!

• it’s just part of the whole shebang. he calms down eventually and gets over the anxiety of you getting even more hurt or struggling and goes back to the others

• but you bet your ass when he comes home at night you’re not going anywhere and he’s gonna baby you until he deems you all better

• also he definitely just likes babying you because he doesn’t declare you better until a week after the doctor does, “just to be safe!!!”

• he loves you very much and if anything we’re to happen to the love of his life he’d like. Evaporate on the spot

• 10/10 man right here

MINGYU

• ok so we know how clumsy this man is

• he technically knows how to take care of injuries

• also the injury was sort of maybe his fault ):

• he tripped over a damn rock and made you stumble too, falling and scraping up your leg

• and this poor man is apologizing faster than he raps

• you’re not badly hurt, and when the pain wears off you’re laughing

• and Mingyu’s all pouty lol

• and though you assure him that you’re ok and everyone trips up sometimes, he just wants to make it up to you

• he is also one of the other mfs who would make soup. him and Josh r gonna open a soup kitchen s2g

• but he’s also super cheesy and you wake up from a nap and see that Mingyu’s gone out and gotten flowers and made some nice food and made a little mini date in ur apartment

• and he just feels so bad !!!! please help this man

• once you joke that maybe you should get injured more often so you guys have more dates like this he finally really calms down

• but like I said, he’d know how to treat any injury

• maybe not well, and I’m sure this man’s instinctive response is “I will put a bandaid on it and move on with my life” but how focused he is when he is just wiping off dirt from your arm or leg or whatever and making you sit still while he gauzes it up is just really sweet he cares so much

MINGHAO

• this man does not know anything.

• I mean don’t get me wrong he’s incredibly smart and emotionally intelligent but also. there’s nothing in this man’s brain except for dastardly ideas

• and you nearly breaking your arm is not exactly a dastardly idea

• so he kinda just shuts down

• he wants to help !!! So bad !!!! but he can’t do anything !!!

• like he’s genuinely such a kind dude and always willing to help even if he teases about it and just always there

• and this is the one thing he can’t help with!!!

• so frustrated ):

• so he spends his time with you by lurking with a pout, ready for any request you had

• he definitely looks like a lost puppy ㅠㅠ

• maybe you act a little more helpless than usual so he can feel better about himself. just maybe

• seeing him brighten when you ask him to get the pasta from the top shelf or help with the laundry is completely worth getting hurt for!!

• eventually he cheers up and goes back to his normal and teasing ways

• and once you heal up he’s so glad he can hug you super tight again (:<

SEUNGKWAN

• Ah, Seungkwan.

• be prepared for lots of passive-aggressive scolding

• I mean when it first happens you can see the panic in this poor man’s eyes

• ok well technically you texted him about it but his reply was violently misspelled and he showed up at your house within 15 minutes

• tbh you should be scolding him because he definitely was speeding to get home that fast

• but he was scolding you!!!

• like wtf you’re already feeling shitty and then Seungkwan comes over and is acting like your mom

• but this man is emotionally mature!!!

• he notices how frustrated and snippy your replies get and calms down, hugging you tightly where you sit on the bathroom counter as he cleans you up

• complains about getting blood on his shirt tho the bastard

• but he definitely hangs out with you for the rest of the day and you catch up and eat ice cream while you lie around on the floor and it’s just. aju nice. (lol)

• he does his best to keep your mind off of any pain or struggling, and we all know this man is a master of distraction so it goes very well

• he’s a very home-y person and you always feel safe with him (:

VERNON

• his literal response is “well that’s not good”

• you fuckin call him like “hey sol I’m in urgent care kinda like. broke my arm” and he’s just like “Yeah that’s a problem”

• thank you Hansol “Sherlock” Chwe

• he is just. out of his element please this man will just stare at your cast or whatever with wide eyes like “yo you broke your arm” yes Vernon

• he’s kinda just fascinated ngl

• he lets you tell your story with wide eyes, beaming proudly when you said you didn’t cry

• he’s like “yeah that’s my partner (:< so cool and badass”

• he’s just very silly about it and doesn’t treat you any differently

• which is nice because you kinda hate people bringing attention to it cuz it’s annoying as shit already ):<

• and he’s already so helpful and willing to do chores or whatever so you don’t have to worry about carrying things or washing dishes or whatever cuz Vernon’s got it!!!

• plus it’s adorable how literally every night he’s just like “it’s so cool how you have a cast” like it’s the dumbest thing ever but he finds it so entertaining. like not even the fact you got hurt just like “holy shit like. it’s cement they basically cement your arm in place you have cement on your arm y/n you could knock someone out with that”

• he’s a cutie lol

CHAN

• ok contrary to popular belief I think he would handle it very well!!

• don’t get me wrong this man is PANICKING under the surface but like. he’s so calm about it on the outside??? hello????

• you call him during practice like “hey so I kinda got hurt I’m ok tho, at the doctor rn” and he’s just like “yes ok are you ok?!”

• little dude lol

• and even though you are, in fact, completely fine, he’s gotta worry smh it’s his job!!

• he comes home and listens to the story as he helps you change the bandages with the most gentle hands ))))):

• and being near you definitely helps calm him down

• he’s back to teasing and being goofy in no time

• this man also definitely knows some medical shit idk what makes me think that but he knows how to like. deal with an injury.

• he definitely is very medically aware idk man I feel like he listens to doctor speak cuz it’s cool and is like “oh yeah go ice that you don’t want it cramping up” whenever one of the other guys complains about something minor lol

• he’s very caring ): I love he sm (:

• he can be a little rat but he knows when to stop and be an ally and what an excellent ally he is!!!!!!!!!

I’m so sorry I’ve never done an after note like this before but seeing all the green and plants makes me think of this damn tweet and I can’t stop laughinh

“he has pollen allergy” I’m sobbing please

[nightwingvixen23]

Tim : you guys know how criminals and villain’s like to say that ONE mediocre line when they think that they REALLY have you RIGHT where they want you ??

Dick : what line ???

Tim :  *mockingly villainous voice* “Any last words ? ”

Stephanie : oh yeeeah. . .*cracking open a beer with Jay* that line’s the fuckin’ worst

Jason : not to mention the cheesiest. like, that shit’s so cheesy, rat’s come squeakin’ from miles around at the very turn of phrase

Tim : the even worse part is that at some point when we first started vigilante work, we kinda freaked out the first time we heard those words though

Dick : *sips on his soda* sure, I guess. . . 

Stephanie : but after the next couple’a times of hearin’ that same old shit being repeated and not dying afterwards ? I myself just learned to get annoyed as fuck and kick ass harder

Tim : okay. but let me ask you this; have any of you ever responded when being asked if you had any last words ???

Stephanie : sure thing ! 4 days ago, I said; “ I’m a god damned sucker for black hair and cheekbones higher then The Wall Of China, you got a twin ? Preferably female and pretty much NOT a fucking murderer maybe ? “

Jason : ahhhh !! why the hell am I not surprised by that

Stephanie : *turns to Dick* what’s the dumbest shit that you’ve told a criminal who asked if you had any last words ?

Dick :  “Don’t let me die a virgin.”

Tim : *laughing* . . .oh my god

Stephanie : don’t tell me. . . .

Dick : yup. the jackass started unbuttoning his belt, just a tad bit too excited; but in that moment he was perfectly distracted enough for me to give him a good kick in the face, disarm him, and get him on the ground

Jason : ooooooh, bet he liked the rough treatment, eh ??

Dick : believe it or not but he thought it was foreplay. . . well, you know, until Batman showed up

Jason : for all he knew it could’a in fact been the foreplay leading up to The Big Show if ya know what I mean 😉

Dick : really, Jay ? what criminal wants to have a threesome with The Bat ??

Jason :

Jason : . . .

Jason : . . . .well. . .definitely not me

Tim : *cracking up*

Stephanie : so what about you, Jason ?? you’ve got yourself a smart ass mouth, what’s the dumbest thing you’ve said when someone’s asked your bitch ass if it had any last words ??

Jason : *sipping his beer* well this bitch ass has said all kinds’a shit. couldn’t choose the dumbest thing tbh 

Tim : try to

Dick : omg we’ll be here all day. . .

Jason : ok. once, a notorious villain had a knife to my throat, asked if I had any last words, so I told him; “Suck my tits”

Jason : then the guy got smart and replied “ Mother fucker, what god damn tits ”

Jason : so my ass got smarter and told him “ If you dont wanna suck’em then why’re you worried ‘bout where they are ”

Stephanie : *hollering*

Jason : anyway, in conclusion; that’s the story of how I got shot in the leg and laid on a rooftop simultaneously last year

Tim :

Dick :

Stephanie : FUCK. and you all wonder why this man right here is my role model ? wake the fuck up bitches. ya’ll are sleepin’ on a legend

Tim : but wait. . .who was it ???

Jason : *back to slowly sipping his beer* you’ll never know

Dick : i bet it was Roman

Jason : no.

Dick : *looks over at Timmer’s with a deadpan expression*

           Dick : it was Roman.

[thevioletjones]

Congrats on the kudos, u deserve it! I did not undestand if I'm supposed to choose one of the lines for the prompt or if I have to combine two or more lines lol. But if it is to choose only one: number 5. If more than one: 5 and 45. *---*

Thank you! I used both. Great inspiration, actually. It spun out of control! 😀

Prompt 2: “How much of that did you hear?” + “Why are you helping me?”

Interloper

“Jesus, Iggy, I’m gonna fuckin’ murder you myself one of these days,” Mickey threatened in exasperation.

They were both leaning over, hands on knees, gasping for air, just having run full-speed for at least twelve blocks. The pillars beneath the L tracks were now providing the mild seclusion they needed to wait out a cursory police search of the area.

“Ain’t my fault!” Iggy exclaimed defensively.

Mickey’s face scrunched up to a degree that only his dumbest family members could make it reach. “Yes it fuckin’ was! Who else’s fault would it be?”

He’d always kind of wondered how he was the only one in his crap-ass family to be gifted with at least half a brain. Well, him and his younger sister, Mandy. She was alright. Skanky and crazy, but not a total idiot. He couldn’t say the same for his brothers, male cousins, father, uncle, etcetera. Mickey couldn’t even get his begrudgingly favorite brother to follow a simple goddamn plan that would’ve kept them out of trouble when they were out committing crimes. He was just gonna have to start doing everything himself. Safety in numbers didn’t apply when the other member of your team seemed to have been lobotomized when no one was paying attention. It was probably all the meth. Mickey was smart enough to stay away from that particular bullshit. Didn’t want to become a scabby, denture-wearing, toothpick skinny, low-life with no mind left to lose. He was content to stick to coke and weed like a normal person.

“That old bitch came outta nowhere! Self-defense!”

“It ain’t self-defense if you’re robbin’ the joint, numbnuts! We’re lucky you fuckin’ missed!”

If he had it his way, Mickey wouldn’t be doing these petty robberies anymore. He much preferred bigger jobs, like gun and drug running. But times were tough, and he had to do what he had to do. He’d even considered getting a legit job for once in his life, but the skills he possessed weren’t exactly easily adaptable to the straight and narrow path. Being a criminal was how he was raised, and all he knew. It brought heat, but it was still a comfortable fit. Living without the constant presence of major risk would probably feel so foreign as to drive him crazier than a meth addiction in the long run.

The job Mickey’d lined up involved hitting up a few different borderline upmarket stores that’d opened up in their neck of the woods since the gentrifiers had set upon The Yards, then selling the goods to a guy he knew in the online black market trade. Not as lucrative as heavy metal and funny powder, but a decent payday nonetheless. Except fuckface over here who had to ruin everything by getting trigger-happy on Main while they were attempting to heist merchandise from location number two of three. If the pigs nabbed either one of them, they’d be going down for at least five to ten. Years. Mickey was done donating years to the prison industrial complex. The most he could afford was months at best.

“When’d you turn into such a giant asshole?” asked Iggy. “Oh, nevermind, probly when you started gettin’ it railed on the reg.”

A giant smile stretched across his perpetually dirty face, causing Mickey’s eyebrows to lift dangerously high on his forehead. Occasionally, his dumber-than-rocks older brother managed to think up some admittedly clever asides. Mickey didn’t know whether to punch him or give him daps.

Before he could decide, however, he heard a distinct little snicker from the other side of the large concrete column they were leaning on, raising his hackles to invisibly join his eyebrows in their heightened incredulity.

Mickey hastily rounded the pillar and grabbed the giggler by the shirt collar, hauling him to their side and pinning him next to Iggy with his forearm. He looked into the guy’s eyes, and finally registered who it was. He kinda sorta knew him from around town. Used to hang out with his sister back in high school. He was a lot scrawnier then. This version of the dude could probably hold his own with Mickey in a fight. He’d built some definite muscle.

“How much of that did you hear, asshole?” Mickey demanded, seeing Iggy flash the gun in his waistband in his periphery.

This idiot didn’t look as rattled as he should be, though. He just shrugged his shoulders.

“Considering I was here first, I guess… all of it?”

He was wearing an annoying little smirk, his green-blue eyes shining bright, and his red hair distracting Mickey as much as the light dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He had a stupidly ultra-defined chin, and Mickey immediately hated it. His chin hadn’t looked like that when he was a 15-year-old pipsqueak.

“Wipe that smile off your face, bitch,” ordered Mickey, pressing his arm harder against the guy’s pale throat. “You think this is fuckin’ funny? You know who we are?”

The guy shrugged again, like this was all a casual conversation on the corner. “Mickey.” He glanced at his dumb, blonde, curlicue brother. “And Iggy, right? I used to hang out with Mandy all the time. Have a good memory.”

“Yeah? Well I remember your goofy ass too, Gallagher. I know where you live and I know who your family is, so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your big mouth shut or I’ll pick ‘em off one by one and save you for last. Got it?”

The dude snorted, and Mickey wondered if he was some kind of crazy tweaker with no sense of propriety or self-preservation.

“You outta your goddamn mind or somethin’?” Mickey added. “I ain’t jokin’.”

“Look, Gallaghers don’t snitch, alright?” He held his hands up placatingly. “I promise not to say shit to anyone. It’s none of my business, and I really don’t care. That good enough for you?”

Mickey loosened his hold, but sized him up all the while. “Maybe. But it’s possible you need a little lesson to remember it good. Wouldn't want you to forget about the consequences of you breakin’ your word.”

The dude winced and shoved Mickey off. “I don’t need a fucking beatdown, Mickey. I get it.”

“Ohhhh,” Mickey singsonged derisively, meeting Iggy’s gaze. “He gets it.” He thumbed his eyebrow. “Guess I’m just s’posed to believe you, huh?”

“That would be ideal, yeah.”

Mickey had to give it to him; he almost cracked a smile. The kid had balls. Most people around their neighborhood cowered before a Milkovich like spring lambs. Still, he lived by a code, and letting some rando walk away unscathed when he had dirt on him just didn’t fit the rules.

He cocked his fist back to knock it into tall, pale, and red’s pearly white teeth, just as the stunted siren of a cop car rang out very close by. Their collective heads all snapped toward the sound, and after sharing a meaningful look between brothers, Iggy took off running once again, without a word.

Normally, Mickey would’ve followed hot on his heels, but some unknown force was keeping his useless feet stuck to the dirty ground, eyes watching as Gingerballs glanced around the column at the flashing lights, taking a very long look that wasn’t suspicious at all.

Before he could react outwardly, Mickey was pulled against a hard body, Gallagher’s warm breath sending a shiver down his spine as he whispered, “Be cool. I got you.”

Suddenly, big hands were caressing Mickey’s back, and despite a part of him not minding in the least, the rest of him stiffened considerably.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he rasped out, hearing the telltale slam of a car door, and attempting to pull away. But a strong grip held him close, spinning him around so that he was the one up against the concrete now.

“Saving your thug ass. I know this guy, okay? Just chill and follow my lead.”

Okay, what the hell was this surreal turn of events? Gallagher was bold as shit, cradling Mickey all gay like. Sure, Iggy had made a fag joke earlier, kicking off this whole… whatever it was, but still. This guy had no way of knowing it was based in reality. Did he?

And had Gallagher really been gay this whole time? How had Mickey never sniffed this scorching information out?

“What’s going on here, boys?”

The copper rounded the corner, genuinely swinging his nightstick like a cartoon character, and Mickey had to suppress a deep roll of his eyes.

“Milkovich?” Mr. CPD continued, extreme disbelief coloring his voice.

Mickey was abruptly reminded that he was currently stuck between a rock and a hard body, and nothing about their entanglement screamed anything other than gay, gay, super-fucking-gay. Not that Mickey hadn’t come to accept who he was and what he liked, but he didn’t go around spreading the truth all over town either. This could seriously damage his carefully crafted reputation.

“Tony!” Ian interjected, sparing him from having to invent some lame excuse, and the cop’s eyes snapped to him instead.

“Ian?” His tone was still dripping with astonishment.

“Yeah! What's up? How you been?”

Mickey shot him an ‘are you goddamn serious right now?’ look, and Ian just squeezed his hip in tacit reply.

“Uhhh… gooood? Care to explain whatever…” he waved his stick between them, “this is?”

Ian laughed and he figured the dude truly was a nutcase. Mickey was going to jail for sure.

“Um, well,” answered Ian, suddenly playing it very meek and demure, “Mickey and I were just… you know…”

“You and… Mickey?”

“Not fucking or anything! Just... hanging out?”

“Hanging out.”

“Yeah, you know how it is. I’m tryin’ to convince Mick here to come home with me, but he’s being squirrelly.” He shook his head and shrugged. “South Side guys.”

“What the fuck?” Mickey whispered harshly, completely taken aback.

Ian just squeezed him tightly again, which was not helping his whole brain scramble situation.

“Huh,” said Tony, a tone of acceptance seeping in. “Mickey Milkovich, eh? Wow.”

“Come on, Tony. I don’t have to tell you this is all a big secret, do I?” replied Ian.

“And blondie who ran away like there was a damn fire? Did he flee a threesome?”

Mickey frowned and fake-wretched, finally speaking up. “Fuck no, man. That was my dumbass brother. He don’t like cops.”

“Uh huh. And you and your brother didn’t happen to be getting into trouble about 15 minutes ago, did you?”

“No sir,” Mickey said with a mock salute.

Ian kicked at his foot in warning.

“He’s been with me since like 3 o’clock, Tone. Scout’s honor.”

Officer Tony eyed them both with a look of skepticism, but didn’t contradict Ian’s word. The CB sounded from the open window of the black and white, with some cop-speak crackling over the airwaves.

“Stay put,” said Tony, eyes lingering longer on Mickey’s than Ian’s. “Both of you.”

He retreated to answer the radio call, and Mickey let out a deep whoosh of air.

“Goddamn, Gallagher. You’re spinnin’ quite a yarn here.”

“Yep,” Ian agreed. “A big gay yarn.”

“How the fuck did you know—”

“That you’re gay? Well, I heard Iggy make that joke, obviously. Pretty specific bottom joke to make if you weren’t actually into it. Plus, I always had my suspicions.”

Mickey scoffed. “Yeah fuckin’ right!”

“I did!”

“Whatever. Why are you helping me?”

“Out of the kindness of my heart?”

“Try again.”

“I don’t know. Why not? Makes us even or something. Now you know I won’t rat you out. About any of it. I wouldn’t out someone like that, and I don’t give a shit about the illegal crap you’re wrapped up in. Tony Markovich is like turbo gay too. Used to bang my sister, I think, but he came out a couple years ago. He won’t let it slip about you. He’s not a total bastard just cuz he’s a cop, ya know?”

Mickey bit his lip in contemplation. Gallagher seemed pretty genuine. Still didn’t much make sense in his brain, but whatever.

“Fine. But you know what’s gonna happen if—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, kick my ass, kill my family, got it.”

“You’re a cocky little shit, ain’t you?”

Ian smirked again, and it was pretty sexy, actually. “Maybe.”

He had the gall to push against Mickey more fully, pressing the bottom halves of their bodies closer together.

Mickey gasped. “Gonna have to ask you again… what the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

“You wanna go out sometime?”

Mickey cackled in his face. “You’re off your fuckin’ rocker for sure.”

“Am not! I can tell you want me.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ. Cocky little shit doesn’t even begin to cover it, does it?”

“Come onnnn,” Ian prodded.

“Do I look like I date, Gallagher?”

“A date can be whatever we want it to be, Milkovich. I’m easy.”

“Yeah, I bet you are.”

“Okay,” Tony interrupted, coming back into view. “Get the hell outta here. You wanna bang, do it indoors somewhere, or I’ll have to arrest you for public indecency or worse. And Milkovich… if I find any evidence of what I’m sure you know I’m talking about, I’ll be paying your ass a visit real soon.”

Mickey let the eyeroll loose then, withholding a flip of his middle finger, and deadpanning instead, “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, officer.”

Tony sighed loudly. “Whatever.”

“Thanks, Tony!” Ian cried at his retreating back.

“You always kiss cop ass like that? Cuz that’s not the way to get into my pants, Red.”

Ian just grinned, finally pulling his body away as he looked around. “You gonna follow me home or what?”

Mickey wanted to tell him to go fuck himself and swagger away like a badass. But was he not a thirsty man being propositioned by a hot guy who just randomly saved his ass from a trip to the slammer?

He at least feigned protest, huffing and puffing as he kicked at the dirt. “Goddamn it, Gallagher, you drive a hard bargain.”

Ian’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, as Mickey added, “Lead the way, weirdo.”

[fr0gheart]

hbcu

anonymous said: can i request a finn x black!fem!reader, where she's apart of a black sorority and he goes to the football game where she'll be stepping and baton twirling and all that jazz 🥺 just all cute and he's like really proud of her

authors note: this is so so so cute. im crying. thank you sm for requesting. as always enjoy!!

warning: aged up finn(nothing to drastic like 18), blackfem!reader

masterlist

where do i even start

so growing up

you were really smart

and you loved like embracing your culture

so when you got the chance to study at an hbcu after high school

you were all for it

just the idea of being with people like you was so amazing

you would like go to orientations and stuff 

and you would just have a killer time

your roommate was amazing

and she always welcomed you into things

you met finn at a bar

you were drinking water 

and you saw him across the room staring at you

and you were like really shy but he walked over to you

and used the dumbest pickup line 

“You’re so beautiful, you made me forget my pickup line”

and you would blush

but lol noone would see it( just humor from a black girl for ya)

ANYWAY

you guys got to talking and finn kinda seemed familiar to you 

but you didn’t really know

so you would get his number

fast forward to two months of dating

you guys would have done everything in your city by two months. 

you just liked exploring new things with finn

he would tell you, he was an actor and you’d just be like

‘ OH YEAH ‘

cause he seemed familiar

but literally you googled him once you got together

anyway it was just cool exploring the city with someone who was new just like you

finn would want to see your life at college 

but you were scared that your friends would make fun of you for dating a white boy

so he would just keep pressing

“ can we please go to your college. pleaseeee”

and he would beg an give you those puppy dog eyes

so you agreed 

and you told him to come to your schools football game

but you didnt even tell him

you were dancing 

like you always kind of avoided talking about yourself

you were embarrassed

cause compared to his acting. your baton twirling seemed pretty stupid

anyway 

you would just like get ready

and you would like walk out on stage. and just start dancing to the beat of beyonce’s party

and you would let it all go 

the crowd would be going wild and hyping you up

so you would just let the music move you

after the game you would go into the crowd and 

see finn on his phone.

you would like run up and scare him. and once he saw you

he would get lovey dovey eyes

he would pull you on his lap 

and start peppering kisses on your face

and you would start giggling 

finn would just start showering you with compliments

and he would get all serious

‘ why didn’t you tell me you danced? ‘

and you would shrug and bury your face in your hand

“ just compared to what you do. it seemed pretty small”

he would laugh and turn your head towards him 

“ whatever you do. i will always be amazed. i fuckin like you so much”

and you would like against his chest

‘ y/n is this your man?’ your friend would ask you

you would look over to finn and take his hand

“ yeah, finn this is y/f/n”

[noblechaton]

happy new years dudes! 

this post is a sort of run down of my last year or so and rlly it’s just me rambling about my (sometimes gross, warning to all gross-haters out there (like me)) health issues so feel free to look past this

2020 was probably the single hardest most stressful year of my entire life so far and while some reasons are uh. kinda obvious. it sort of especially crunched down on me as it was the first year of my life where I had a persistent health problem for the entire duration

back near the end of 2019 (october 19th I think) I noticed this weird pain in my chest and it scared the heck outta me when it didn’t go away after a few days so I managed to get to go to the doctor for the first time in maybe an actual decade? to try and sort it out bc like on one hand my habits were(/are) bad and the day beforehand I’d been running on a horrid amount of sleep and my only food was bad fast food stuff for breakfast and dinner

anyway the appointments started coming after that as test after test cleared me of. well. anything. there wasn’t really anything weird found after a stress test or uh. this one test where they ran a wand over my body with some goo on it. idk what its called

so naturally I was really just totally lost bc the pain was still there up until around late january?? I think? my memory gets a bit hazy here bc so much had happened but I’m pretty sure that shortly after it faded away (mid february-ish?) I felt normal-ish but then had this awful headache that just straight up wouldn’t go away that lasted a month or so that got so bad I broke down and begged for a hospital despite knowing my bill was outrageous already but I managed to go anyway and got a CAT scan then and an MRI a few days later that turned up nothing again. legit nothing (aside from a kidney stone lol) and just like the chest stuff it faded

some time after that I got really shaky aches and pain sin my wrists and ankles that hurt super bad that I sort of didn’t talk about but at that point at least it was something I could sort of cope with and it eventually stopped after a while (I think this was bc of an antidepressant I was on that I just. immediately stopped taking as a result of the pain) 

but eventually that gave way to what was the worst of it where I spent around 2 months being entirely unable to eat or drink /anything/. I mean anything at all. water of any sort, crackers, it all came back up and. really really sucked. I lost a lot of weight and struggled a lot and I still struggle to talk about this one bc it was so traumatic and I’m terrified of it coming back to this day (I still don’t eat or drink all the stuff I used to eat or drink and maybe never will. I almost entirely avoid dairy of all kinds now which might tie into my current problem??)

obviously I got multiple tests for this. two cameras down my tummy and an emptying study and all of which turned up.............nothing. nothing I didn’t already have anyway. nothing that could be causing it and then of course shortly after the last test, the one that I thought would definitively answer what was wrong with me,(the emptying one), I was so desperate for food that late one night I devoured some awful fried chicken from the grocery store in the middle of the night and fell asleep and the next day I could finally, thankfully sort of eat again. my dad cooked up salmon for me since it’d been in the freezer and I tried it and it mostly stayed down and then from there it stopped happening all together

this one still stresses me out and again I’m fucking terrified of it bc I still have no indication on what it is or was

but that brings me to the last month or two? (which is a good ~4-5 months? from that last thing I think. my perception of time is fucked and filled with me being pricked with fluids and stuff bleugh) which has been mostly this weird discomfort/pain in my left side that’s almost always there (but has faded sometimes) with the occasional awful discomfort uh. between my legs back there. and this awful burping habit where I taste the last thing I ate for a while

this one’s hard to pin down and I haven’t been to a doc for it (yet, I wanna go and get a colonoscopy and even asked about a stool test that one doc said no to?? and plus it’ll probably be even harder now than it was before) and I’ve been on various laxatives (started back when I wasn’t eating as not eating meant getting anything out was uh. difficult) that all sort of dipped in usefulness. lately I’ve been drinking a glass of prune juice every day or two and it seems to do the most help but it’s still there

now this is odd for me bc I’m not even sure I’ve been constipated or anything and there’s a few theories I’ve had that range from me having IBS to it being tied to my body recovering from 2-3 months of not eating or uh. removing waste. to suddenly doing it a lot (this is also my theory on the belching since my neck/throat used to hurt a shitload on account of all the acid and stuff coming back up but it’s sort of slowly felt less bad?). I also sometimes feel super zoned out and foggy but that might just be my bad sleeping

lately I’m sort of wondering if this is maybe all a neurological thing?? or maybe some sort of mental snap caused by stress from my life. it’s been hard for me to consider much else beyond a deep mental issue after so many tests ended up with good results

I’m not smart enough to know for sure but. idk. a year of nearly nonstop bodily pain no matter what I did (exercise, no exercise. eating better, eating worse, etc.) with every single possible test done beyond a select few providing no results has sort of left me as a terrified wreck without anywhere to turn and it just sucks. I’m tired of being so scared of my own body

and all of that on top of. y’know. everything going on in the world. it fucking sucks

last year was real fuckin bad man and I can only try and hope that this year gives myself and everyone else a reprieve at least. a moment to breathe and be consistently happy again. thank u guys for still hanging around me and enjoying the piddly amount of original content I put out. 

I wanna do more for this acc since it, and you guys, got me thru a lot of this last year or so (I even got to see Glaciator in the hospital once lol) and I intend to start streaming myself playing video games over on twitch more often but I can’t make any promises rn. all I can do is hope to continue putting out even the dumbest of posts that y’all might get even a tiny laugh out of

[89tczier]

People are talking

The other five chuckle at the two’s antics, and it’s only then that something dawns on Ben so quick he nearly chokes on his beer.

“Holy shit,” he splutters, because how the fuck did it take him this long to fucking realise.

read on AO3 

word count: 3.9k

7 days before

“–and keep an eye on Ben and Bev!” Richie shouts, “I don’t want my bed broke–” he’s cut off by a very exasperated Eddie.

“Can it, Trashmouth,” He snaps, pulling Richie the rest of the way through the door by the lapels of his jacket. For some reason, those two were being trusted to bring back some actual alcohol rather than the shit Richie’s always left with at the end of the month. They all know its gonna take them twice as long than if anyone competent was sent, but the others are frankly just too lazy to offer themselves.

The other five chuckle at the two’s antics, and it’s only then that something dawns on Ben so quick he nearly chokes on his beer.

“Holy shit,” he splutters, because how the fuck did it take him this long to fucking realise.

Bev’s quick to respond, patting his back and giggling in a way that makes Ben feel a little loopy, “jeez, babe, you alright?”

Ben nods, composing himself under the watch of his friends, clearly interested in what could have possibly caused this outburst. “Yeah, sorry, it’s just,” Ben casts a glance back at the door, “they’re like… totally in love, right?” He’s met with nothing but confused looks.

“Richie and Eddie?” Stan asks incredulously while perched in Mike’s lap.

“Richie and Eddie,” he confirms.

Bill, currently nestled under Mike’s arm, snorts like it’s one of Richie’s stupid jokes, “the f-fuck are you on about?”

Ben almost gawks like he didn’t just figure this out, but he did kind of expect the pieces to fall quickly into place once he pointed it out, “have you not seen the way they act? Textbook married couple.”

“They’ve always been like that though,” Bev shrugs, her brows furrowed as she appears to be trying to follow Ben’s logic (he loves her for trying).

He raises a finger. “My point still stands,” and goes on to explain, “they’re literally always together, hanging off each other… who’s the first person Richie asks for at a party? Who does Eddie always sit next to on movie night? They just– how can you guys not see it?”

“You’re talkin’ absolute bullshit, Benny,” Mike shakes his head, “Eddie’s close to ripping Rich’s head off half the time.”

“Oh come on, if he was really that annoyed he’d have said something about it. Eddie doesn’t stand for anything he doesn’t like.” Ben takes a pointed sip of his shitty beer to punctuate and this point seems to land, and Ben would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the least bit satisfied with himself. He’d always had an eye for this stuff, even if he was rather shitty at acting upon it himself (but hey, it worked out pretty well for him).

“Leave it to Trashmouth Tozier to flirt with someone by annoying the life out of them,” Bev smiles.

“And leave it to Eddie fuckin’ Kaspbrak to flirt back with threats and holy fuck Ben I think you’re right.” Mike’s face goes blank.

“See!”

Bill still seems like he’s considering it, “it would explain a l-lot, mainly how Eddie hasn’t actually k-k-killed him yet… a-nd the fu-fucking hammock!”

A chorus of ‘holy shit’s go around the circle. Then it all becomes clear.

“God, they’ve had this since high school?” Bev snorts.

“Why haven’t they said anything?” Mike asks, “It’s not like we’re gonna care, we’re one big lovey mess,” he squeezes both Stan and Bill for emphasis.

“I don’t think they’re dating, necessarily, they’re just… in love.” Ben shrugs.

Bill grins, “now that guh-gives me an idea…”

“You’re hot when you scheme,” Stan hums, resting his head against Mike’s.

“Tell me about it,” Mike agrees, and is poked gently by Bill.

“I think, and I s-say this only for the b-benefit and happiness of my two dumbest friends, we should… encourage them to get a fuh-fucking move on.”

Bev shuffles forward and straightens up, “like… goad them together?”

Bill raises his bottle, “exactly,” and takes a sip while Mike and Stan nod to each other in agreement.

“Smokin’ hot.”

Bill chokes, and laughter fills the room as he curses his boyfriends out.

“Sounds like we’re missing out on something, Eds, they’re officially kicking us out,” Richie pretends to mope as they enter Richie’s apartment again, a bottle in both of his hands. Eddie scoffs.

“Maybe you, asshole, you’re the one who got held up by some dog on the street,”

They all wait for it.

“And don’t fuckin’ call me Eds!”

Richie grins like he’s won a prize.

–

6 days before

Bev isn’t the least bit fucking surprised when she wakes up to see she’s been added to a group chat called “operation: let’s get our two losers together”. She smiles, shifting some in Ben’s arms. He stirs, letting out a warm breath against her skin that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight.

“You see this?” She asks, turning the screen some so he can see. He squints and lets out a sleepy chuckle which makes Bev melt a little. She runs a hand over his forearm and locks their hands together, squeezing for good measure.

“God, this is either gonna go great or really terrible,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the skin where her neck meets her shoulders.

She hums, turning to face him, “I don’t know… I have a good feeling about this.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah… they seem meant for each other, I guess…” she pauses, smiles, and kisses him, “we all do.”

Ben smiles against her mouth and is about to return the favour when a string of texts floods both their phones.

put it away Benny Boy, we’ve got matchmaking to do ~ Big Bill, sent at 08:23

Meet us in our flat ~ Stan, sent at 08:23

guys, give em the chance to wake up, they had a long night ;) ~ Mikey, sent at 08:24

they need to hurry up and get a move on, we’ve been talkin all night and they need to get caught up ~ Big Bill, sent at 08:24

Well, not all night ~ Stan, sent at 08:25

…cease ~ Big Bill, sent at 08:25

“On second thought, this is the worst idea ever.”

She cackles, dragging both of them up and towards the bathroom. The boys could wait a little longer.

“Casa de Stan, recently co-owned by Bill and Mike too, speaking please?” This is always how he answers, the dope.

“Hey Mikey,” Ben says, voice still a little groggy from sleep. God, he’s hot, Bev thinks to herself, slotting a gloved hand into his.

“Hey guys!” The door clicks open, and they breeze up the first flight of stairs.

Bill greets them at the door, still in his sleep shirt. “Don’t,” he deadpans, right as Bev’s about to poke fun at the bruising around his neck and chest. She grins slyly at him, patting him on the back as she passes him.

“Benny! Bev! Get in here!” Mike calls from the den. Bill follows them in, taking a seat next to Mike and throwing his legs over his boyfriend’s lap. Stan’s stood hunched over the small stove on the other side of the room, scrambling some eggs which smell unfairly delicious to a moderately hung-over Beverly.

“You’ll get some in a minute,” he states, reading her mind.

“Always knew you were my favourite,” she said, which earns a ‘hey’ from both Mike and Bill.

Bill calls them all to sit down, explaining that they need to actually plan this out as quickly as possible. Richie and Eddie were the only ones with early classes that day and it would be suspicious (and mean) if they were told to keep at bay while the rest of them hung out.

They chow down on some scrambled eggs (which exceed expectations, Bev reminds herself to get the recipe off of Stan), and it ends up working out like this:

They’re going to pry for a few days, see if they can get a rise out of either of them, then at the end of the week they’re all going to meet up at Stan’s place. Using an excuse they haven’t though of yet, they’re going to try to get both Eddie and Richie into the bathroom at the same time and then block the door.

“N-nothing like a confined space and a l-little bit of drink to get the vibe g-going,” Bill grins.

“Speakin’ from experience there, Big Bill?” Beverly playfully chides, giggling as Bill’s ears go pink.

Ben hums quietly, “what if they don’t go for it?”

“They looked three seconds away from mauling each other last night, I think they’ll jump at any excuse they get,” Mike points out, and the plan is set.

They say their goodbyes afterwards, and as Bev fiddles with the key to their flat, Ben takes her wrist gently, turning her around and pulling her into him.

“I love you,” he says, and kisses her in that wonderful way he does that leaves her wanting so much more.

“I love you too,” She grins, draping her arms over his shoulders, “always will.”

–

4 days before

Richie is head over fucking heels, Bill decides.

The two of them offer to help Eddie study terms for a quiz at the end of the week, which fuck knows why they had any hope of that working.

They start off well, Richie and himself trading roles as Eddie nailed each piece of terminology about cognitive processes with detailed explanations to boot. It takes about ten minutes of their relaxed sprawling over Eddie’s floor for their resolve to break. It starts with Richie’s foot-tapping Eddie’s shin to the beat of whatever song he’s humming as Bill reads from the flashcards. Then it’s the complements, and holy fuck, how has Bill never caught this before.

“So smart, so cute!”

“Rich, if you don’t shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Can’t help it, I’m like a mama bird watching her baby take flight for the first time. Just wanna puke some worms into your mouth.”

“Richie! That’s fucking disgusting!” Eddie near screeches, pushing himself up and lunging forward, knocking Richie back onto the ground and pinning him down. Richie’s laughing like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen, and Eddie is too. He can’t believe these assholes are in college.

Okay, this is perfect, Bill thinks, as right on cue, Eddie leaves the room to grab his textbook.

“Got somethin’ on my face, Billy?” Richie asks once he catches the ‘care to explain?’ look Bill is giving him.

“Don’t w-worry about it,” Bill gives his best nonchalant shrug, “it’s just cute, that’s all.”

And he catches it, the signature ‘i’m fucking whipped’ look: the dopey smile, the avoidance of eye contact, the excepting laugh. Gotcha, bitch.

“Isn’t he just?”

–

2 days before

Stan’s starting to fret.

The text came through a few minutes ago, and Stan is reeling.

eddie said he met a guy last night??? went home w him and everythin??? ~ Bevvy, sent at 13:03

“A one night stand?” Mike asks, leaning over Bill’s shoulder to read with Bill’s glasses on because his own are fuck knows where.

“Fucking apparently?”

“Okay, this might not be as b-bad as it seems. They d-don’t know about the other l-liking them, yeah? Eddie’s p-probably, like, in denial or coping or som-something.” Bill slots his glasses off of Mike’s face.

Stan stops pacing and takes a breath, collapsing onto the arm chair opposite, “you’re right, probably just Eddie being stubborn.”

“‘Atta boy, Stan,” Mike grins, shifting to the side and stretching out his legs, resting them in Bill’s lap.

did eddie seem interested in the guy? ~ Big Bill, sent at 13:11

not really, didn’t really talk about him much ~ Bevvy, sent at 13:12

They all sighed.

“Why are we so invested in this again?” Stan mumbles.

“Because it’s gonna be entertaining as fuck if we pull it off.”

–

1 day before

Mike has more luck.

He, Bev and Eddie are browsing around the grocers, preparing for tomorrow when they hear a yelp from the isle next to them. Mike peeks around, seeing a very excited looking Richie pick Eddie up from behind, bouncing him around like he weighs nothing. Mike expects a slew of curses, but Eddie giggles like Mike’s never heard before.

“Put me down, you asshole! You’re gonna knock something over.”

“You’re the one flailing your limbs, Eds– Mike and Ikes! Fancy seeing you here!” He damn near drops Eddie, who’s flushed and breathless.

“We’re trying to shop, you asshole, can’t we have five minutes peace,” Eddie gives him a light shove.

“Oh I know, I’m on a last minute supply run.”

And Mike’s stupid enough to fall for it and ask, “why?”

“Pickin’ up Eddie’s mom, need condoms.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and they both laugh as Eddie goes ballistic.

“Get the fuck out of here, Trashmouth, before I commit a crime,” he shoots Richie daggers, and Rich gives him a salute.

“Sir yes sir,” he half-shouts, sprinting over to a very tired looking cashier.

Eddie’s still watching him, “asshole,” he says with so much fondness Mike thinks he might start floating.

“You don’t seem to mind,” He pokes at Eddie’s pinked cheeks, snorting as Eddie smacks it away from his face.

“Hey dipshits,” Bev calls, carrying a basket full of crisps and liquor, “did you get the chasers?”

Eddie sighs, turning on his heel and walking back to the fridge, which Mike’s guessing was where he was heading before Richie snatched him up.

“Will diet do?”

“Sure, go crazy.” Mike says, as he quickly types.

eddie’s absolutely gone for him, this is gonna go great ~ Mikey, sent 21:33

–

The night of

It’s a slow day for Eddie. His test has been eating away at him slowly and painfully (no matter how  many times Richie said he’d crush it) and while he left feeling confident, he knows he’s still gonna stress about it. It goes fine, but he’s still thinking about it during his shift and the worry hasn’t left him.

It’s just a stupid test, he thinks as his stomach continues to knot itself. Thank god he’s getting drunk tonight.

Eddie lives the furthest away from Stan’s (and Bill and Mike’s) and he really doesn’t wanna walk that far in the cold so he stops by Richie’s after class, knowing he probably has a couple of nice shirts left over there from nights where he’s really too drunk to go home, inevitably leaving the next morning in one of Richie’s shirts instead (huh, funny how that happens). He also knows that if he so much as catches sight of his roommate, he’ll fucking blow up.

He fishes Richie’s key from his pocket, lets himself in and thinks Christ, would it kill Rich to clean up a bit? He’s certain that the pillows from the couch are still there from last Friday. He steps over them after pushing off his shoes in the corner.

“Rich, You fuckin slob! Clean your apartment,” Eddie calls out in place of a hello.

“Afternoon to you too, Eddie!” He hears back. Eddie follows his voice through to the bedroom and finds himself lost for fucking words.

Richie’s standing in front of his bathroom mirror, shirtless, drying off his mess of curls with a towel. He doesn’t notice him for a moment, and Eddie takes that moment to curse the way those jeans hang from his hips. He lingers on Richie’s wiry frame for just a moment more than he probably should.

Damn, Tozier he huffs.

“You peeping on me, Eddie?” Richie’s dumb Southern Belle accent should drive Eddie up the wall, and Eddie does roll his eyes, though it’s really just for show. They both know that.

“Your den is a mess.”

“I like it that way,” Richie’s quick to reply, brushing past Eddie as he heads for his dresser.

“Tough shit, I don’t,” Eddie snaps back, now back in his rhythm as the blood returns to his brain.

Richie grins as he picks through his shirt, taking his sweet time with it and all Eddie can focus on is the hint of his happy trail poking out above the waistband of his jeans. He chooses one, and now Eddie can actually look away as Richie holds the tee up for his approval.

It’s his The Cure one, black, matching his nails and jeans, and easily Eddie’s favourite, both on Richie and to wear himself (it’s comfortable, and it definitely has nothing to do with the looks Richie gives him in it).

They kill time by fixing up Richie’s couch and watching weird ASMR videos on Richie’s laptop. Eddie’s sure the effect is lessened by only having one earbud, but it’s still uncomfortable but so worth hearing Richie snort each time Eddie cringes.

“Is it just me,” Richie says, hitting pause on a woman in cat ears about to pretend to ask them out, “or have the others been acting weird.”

“Right?” Eddie yanks the earbud out, “Bev’s been like… weirdly invasive… like more than she usually is.”

“They all have, what do you think it’s about?”

“I have a funny fucking feeling we’re gonna find out.”

–

There’s a weird fucking vibe in the place when he and Eddie arrive.

“We miss out on the world’s weirdest orgy or something?” Richie asks, mostly joking, as eyes fall on the two of them.

Stan makes an exaggerated gagging sound, and Bill’s face screws up. What a great audience he has.

“Shut up and sit down, Trashmouth, we’re doing shots,” Bev playfully snarls at him.

It gets a little less weird the more Richie has to drink, but he’s either going crazy or there’s something going on. He looks at Eddie, and Eddie shrugs right before he throws a shot back, and Richie gets to watch his Adam’s Apple bob and his eyes squeeze shut and his nose crinkle up because Eds–

“–cant fuckin stand tequila.”

God, he’s cute.

He meets Richie’s gaze, “what the fuck are you smirking about?”

He’s hot, too.

“You take every shot like it’s your fucking first, Eds,” he teases back and it’s huskier than he means it to come out, because he’s tipsy and can’t stop staring at that little drop of liquor running down Eddie’s chin.

Bill chokes, sending everything in the shot glass over his face. Mike cackles.

“Rich, can you go g-get me a f-fuckin washcloth.”

And it’s there that everything ramps up to fuckin’ eleven. Ben starts grinning, Stan’s got that fucking look on his face that can only mean trouble.

“Why the fuck do I have to do it?”

“C-cuz you m-made me spit every-w-where!”

Richie puts his hands up in mock defeat, “alright, alright, damn.” And he stands up, shuffling into the bathroom.

“Oh!” Stan calls after him, “my contacts too!”

“Aye aye!” Richie yells back, scanning the mirror cabinet for anything resembling a fucking contact case. Disinfectant, no, flavoured lube, nice but no… Richie’s squinting as if that’s gonna fucking help. “Can’t fuckin find ‘em, Stan!” He calls back out to them.

He hears a soft “Eddie, go help him,” from Mike.

“You’re going blind for real, fuckface, lemme see,” Eddie rolls his eyes at him, and tries shoving Richie out of the way with his side, but really just ends up pushed up against him. He’s warm and smells of spirits and vanilla, Richie doesn’t fight back, nor does he notice the others approaching the bathroom either.

He’s so focused on the way Eddie’s tongue pokes out of his mouth ever so slightly when he’s concentrating he’s a second too slow to realise.

“When did Stan start wearing contacts– oh shit, Eds, wait–” Richie’s barely gotten the words out before the bathroom door slams shut, making Eddie jump closer against him.

The other losers are whooping and hi-fiving from the other side of the door, and Eddie turns to stare at Richie as if to say what the fuck just happened???

“Beats me.”

“Admit it and we’ll let you out!” Bev says in what Richie assumes is a terrible Terminator impression.

It takes a second (again, because liquor and Eddie) to realise, and he flashes Eddie the biggest grin he can muster.

“Golly gee, Eds, I think they figured it out!”

He’s not being loud, but the others can apparently hear him, because they’re gloating stops in an instant.

Eddie matches his grin, “fucking finally,”

“Wait, what?” Mike sounds confused.

The door opens, and the others are staring at them like their fucking martians.

“Wait what the fuh-fuck?”

Hm, that’s interesting.“I have a feeling there’s been a big misunderstanding,” Richie starts, still grinning.

“Did you guys do it already?”

Eddie snorts, Richie scratches the back of his neck, “uh, gonna have to ask you to be a bit more specific, Benny.”

“Confess. Did we not hear it?”

Eddie frowns, “confess to what?”

“Don’t be difficult, Kaspbrak,” Stan groans, “that you’ve been secretly pining for each other for fuckin’ ages?”

“Is that what you shut us in there for?” Richie asked, his voice creeping up an octave because oh, this was delicious.

The five of them answer simultaneously “yes!”

Richie looks down at Eddie, who holds his gaze for all of one second before they dissolve back into shit eating grins.

“God we really gave you guys too much credit.”

“Stop being coy, trashmouth!”

“We’ve literally been dating for three months, holy shit, guys.” Eddie rubs his face like he’s exasperated.

“What?” Ben nearly yells.

“Here we are thinking you dumbfucks finally figured it out–”

“In fairness, Rich, they got halfway there.”

“When the fuck were you planning on telling us?” Stan demands, keeping a hold of Mike’s arm for balance.

Eddie volunteers to explain. “Well, it took a few weeks to kinda… figure stuff out, and we were gonna tell you then but then Rich wondered how long it would take you guys to figure it out on your own–”

“So you guys kept this shit on for three months?”

There's a mixture of confusion and amusement around the room. Richie had been kind of worried that they’d be angry that the two of them had kept this for so long, but upon learning that they’d also been scheming themselves for the past week, Richie feels pretty fuckin justified now.

Eddie gives his best ‘are you fucking joking’ face, “you guys never said anything! And as much as we wanted to just get over with, it was so fucking funny to see how much shit you guys would let us get away with.”

“Such as?”

“The fact that you, Beverly, bought “I needed a shirt after my ‘walk of shame’” as a reasonable excuse as to why I was standing in Richie’s kitchen, wearing one of his dumb band tees, absolutely covered in hickeys.”

The other four turned to look at Bev, who pursed her lips and mumbled, “understandable,” as Stan whisper yelled “how the fuck did you miss that?”

“Stan you literally walked in on us mid makeout!”

“What? When?” He demands.

“You burst into my flat, mid-rant…”

There’s a good five minutes of the two of them listing all the times there beautiful, supportive, oblivious as all fuck friends had missed what was so clearly in front of them. The energy shifted into something warm and jovial.

“So,” Richie takes Eddie’s hand, “which one of you started this.”

Everyone answers “Ben.”

Eddie grins up at him, and Richie swears he’ll die right there, “told ya so.”

[baseballbitch116]

Someone Flirts With You

Prompt: Someone flirts with you in front of you S/O

Warnings: Language, violence

Includes: Daryl, Rick, Negan, Shane, Paul, Glenn, Merle, Abraham, Tara and Rosita

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Daryl:

When some idiot from Alexandria decided to approach you as you sat beside Daryl on your front steps and begin flirting, you stared at him, dumbfounded. You glanced over at your boyfriend, who just scoffed at the man and rolled his eyes. “Uh, thank you, but I’m with him.” You would explain, nodding to Daryl, who glares at the dumbass. If he is stupid enough to continue flirting with you, Daryl would stand up, getting in the man’s face, saying “She said she ain’t fuckin interested.” And that would be enough to make the man scurry off. Daryl would sit back down beside you, placing a hand on your thigh, clearly in a bad mood now, calming down a little when you lay your head on his shoulder.

Rick: 

When some dumbass had the balls to flirt with you, whom everyone was aware is Rick’s girl, right in front of himself, he would actually laugh at first. “Seriously?” He would say after the man told you his stupid pickup line, tilting his head and giving him that look that said “Bitch really?”. The man would give Rick attitude, and that’s when he would stand up, telling him he better walk away while Rick’s still letting him. And if the man still didn’t listen, Rick would punch him in the gut, making him puke in front of you, then run away all embarrassed. He would sit back down beside you, placing a hand over your shoulder and kisses the side of your head as you laugh at his possessiveness.

Negan:

Anyone who was stupid enough to not only flirt with Negan’s girl, but to do so right in front of him, was clearly suicidal. But yet, one of Negan’s newest recruits that Simon rescued, approached you as you stood beside Negan, listening to Dwight and him discuss a plan. The man would tap your shoulder, complimenting your body and saying some stupid pickup line, causing all three of you to stare at the man as if he was the dumbest person alive. Dwight would back up and you would chuckle, realizing that Negan is about to snap. He would glare at the man for a moment, then a smile would break out and he would laugh. “Really? Right in front of me? You got some giant fuckin balls!” He would exclaim, before calling two of his men over and telling them to lock this man up in one of the cells.

Shane:

Everyone in your group was aware that you and Shane are together, and yet some man had the nerve to come up to you and start flirting with you, right in front of Shane. He would stand there, crossing his arms and laughing as the man continues trying to make a pass at you. You would just look at him like he had three-heads, then look to Shane, who would run a hand through his hair and get in the man’s face. “Yer real stupid, ya know that? Walk away, don’t let me catch you near her again.” He would threaten, tilting his head to the side as he glared at the man, waiting for him to do anything to give him an excuse to beat the shit out of him.

Paul:

When a man would approach you, right in front of him, and begin flirting with you, he would give him the benefit of the doubt at first - maybe he doesn’t realize that you are taken. “Uh, yeah, ‘xcuse me, she/he’s dating me.” Paul would say, standing closer to your side. When the man only scoffs and ignores Paul, returning back to making disrespectful comments to you, Paul would slightly push you behind himself, having enough of this man disrespecting the both of you. “Leave, now.” He would threaten, and when the man still persisted, taking a swing at your boyfriend, he would easily dodge it, grabbing his wrist and twisting it behind his back, pinning him down with ease and warning him one last time before he did some serious damage. The dumbass would finally listen, scampering off, and Paul would apologize to you, placing a hand on your waist and kissing your forehead.

Glenn:

He would be pretty ticked off the moment that this new guy approached you, right in front of him, and started making disrespectful comments. He would step to your side, glaring at the man, warning him to leave. When he didn’t listen, and crossed the line by calling you a foul name, Glenn would punch him straight in the face, breaking his nose, making him run off and never approach you again.

Merle:

When a man would approach you as you stood beside Merle, leaning over a car as you discussed the Governor’s offer about Michonne, and began hitting on you, he would start to laugh. The man would glare at him and Merle would put his hands up, chuckling. “Oh please, continue making a pass at my lady.” Merle says, almost daring the man. When he is stupid enough to continue, and you tell him you are not interested, and he still persists, is where Merle draws the line. “She said she ain’t interested. Why don’t ya scamper off before ya fuckin regret comin over here.” Merle threatens, stepping between the two of you. The man would look down at your boyfriend’s prosthetic arm with a knife attached, and decided to just walk away, leaving Merle smirking and placing a sloppy kiss on your temple.

Abraham:

When some man from Alexandria approached the two of you standing at the truck together, discussing where to go on a supply run, and began complimenting your hair and body and literally everything, Abraham would just turn and look at the guy. You would awkwardly thank him as your boyfriend would chuckle behind you, placing his body firm against your back, towering over both you and the guy, and place a hand on your arm. “Buddy, if you don’t want to find yourself in a pickle, I would suggest you find someone else’s girl to hit on.” He warns, and the guy sizes Abraham up for a moment, before being smart enough to walk away, muttering to himself. Abraham would place a kiss on the top of your head and slip a hand into your back-pocket, returning to the map.

Tara:

When some girl from Alexandria approached you, beginning to compliment your hair and eyes, she didn’t think too much of it, just ignoring her. But when she asked if you were together, and then proceeded to say that she could treat you better, is when Tara got up, standing between the two of you. “Seriously? Right in front of me? Just leave. Now.” She warns, and the woman just scoffs, walking away muttering insults. You’d pull Tara back from her arm and place a kiss on her cheek, interlocking your fingers with her’s.

Rosita:

When some girl came up behind you, placing a hand on your hip and whispering in your ear how sexy you are, Rosita would instantly get furious. “Are ya fuckin kidding me? I’m right here!” She would holler as you step away from the woman and take your girlfriend’s arm, holding her back from punching the woman. When she makes a disrespectful comment about you, you release your girlfriend’s arm, allowing her to punch the bitch, sending her falling right onto her ass. She would turn around, placing an arm around your waist and leading you away from the woman on the ground.

---

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[adelesbian]

Hercules had his heart in the right place as he worried about whether or not Amadeus has any male friends that were his age. He mostly hung out with the Champions, almost all of which were younger than him by quite a few years. It wasn’t really his fault after all he spent a good chunk of his life following Hercules around then trying to find his sister, but now he was paying for it. Hercules knew the importance of brothers-in-arms. Men that you could spend time with, drink with, men that you could go to battle with.

“I worry for him. He is young, but he has no friends his age,” Hercules admitted to his Champions.

“Wait, how old are the other Champions?” Bobby asked.

Hercules shook his head. “Alas, they are younger than him,” he said. “They are children compared to the man that Amadeus has become.”

Warren shook his head. “He’s 19,” he said. “He’s barely a man.”

“Robbie’s about his age,” Johnny said behind his drink, “and I don’t think he has many friends his age either. I asked him about it, and he said he had this friend that was a girl, but he wouldn’t tell me anything else about her.”

If a lightbulb could have gone off above Hercule’s head it would have. He hit his fist to his hand. “We should set them up,” he said. Bobby’s brows raised for a moment admittedly taking what he said wrong. “Surely they would get along. Amadeus knows much of having a monster inside of him, even before the Hulk he had a darkness my sister spoke of quite often, and Robbie would do good to have a friend as loyal as Amadeus.”

“Do they have anything in common?” Bobby asked leaning on his hand.

Hercules and Johnny glanced at each other momentarily admitting that they didn’t know much about their young friends’ interests. “He loves his little brother a lot,” Johnny said shrugging.

“Amadeus moved heaven and earth for his sister,” Hercules said.

Despite the nervous glancing between Warren and Bobby, Hercules and Johnny made plans for Amadeus and Robbie to meet.

Amadeus checked his phone knowing that he was early but checking anyways because maybe he wasn’t as early as he thought he was. He took a booth and sat where he could see the door. A waitress asked him what he wanted, and he politely told her that he was waiting for someone. He checked his phone again. Hercules sent him a message that said, “RUNNING LATE, FRIENDS JOINING.”

Amadeus smiled slightly and sent him a text back telling him “ok,” then he slipped his phone in his pocket. As soon as he looked up he saw Robbie Reyes enter the diner looking around for Johnny. He looked over and saw Amadeus, and his face fell.

“Fuck,” Amadeus said leaning down and covering his face as if that would do anything to disguise him considering he was just under seven foot and green all over.

“What’re you doing here?” Robbie asked sliding into the booth with him, “and why do you look like that?”

Amadeus looked up at Robbie embarrassed. If he could turn red he would, thank god he couldn’t. “I’m having dinner with a friend,” he said, “and new diet.” Re-using a joke, nice Amadeus… It’s fine, he hadn’t heard it.

“This friend Hercules?” Robbie asked raising an eyebrow. Obviously whoever his friend was was better at texting than Herc was. Amadeus was going to kill Herc the next time he saw him.

“Yeah,” he said, “Are you one of the friends he said was joining us?”

“Just my luck,” Robbie said crossing his arms. “I’m killing Johnny Blaze.”

“Is he running late too?” Amadeus asked. Robbie nodded his head. “We might as well order. Hercules isn’t gonna be here for another hour at least.“ Amadeus gestured for one of the waitressed to come over. She was cute, but not really his type.

“I hired a babysitter to hang out with you,” Robbie grumbled.

“I’m not too thrilled about spending time with you either,” Amadeus said just as the waitress walked up clasping menus to her chest. Amadeus was sort of famous, he got why she was star struck. He flashed her a big smiled as she handed him his menu.

They ordered drinks… then they got their drinks… then they ordered their food… then they got their food… then they ate their food…

“I had a really terrible thought,” Amadeus said before eating a fry. He was trying to make the mood a little less ‘I don’t want to talk to you’ and more ‘okay maybe you’re sometimes funny I guess’.

“What?”

“What if they were setting us up on a date?”

He was joking of course, but Robbie looked over at Amadeus with real panic in his eyes. “Is that why Johnny was asking me about girls?”

Amadeus stared for a moment his mouth suddenly very dry. “Fuck, do you think they would do that?” He stopped for a moment covering his eyes with his hands and leaning back in the booth wanting to scream. Who was he kidding? “Hercules would definitely do it.”

“Does he do this a lot?”

Amadeus shrugged. “One time he didn’t rescue me from the Amazons quickly because he was under the misguided impression that I was going to get laid. I was sixteen at this point,” he said. “At least then it was women. I don’t get how he knew that I…” Amadeus’s face fell as he realized what he said. “Shit, I talk too much, and you didn’t hear that.” Amadeus was freaking out and saying way too much. He didn’t want to come out quite yet, but here he was saying everything that entered his head in front of an almost stranger who was so hot. God, why was he so hot?

Robbie leaned onto the palm of his hand. “You sure you’re smart?”

“Says the guy who made a deal with the devil,” Amadeus grumbled. Nervous Amadeus was stupid. So stupid...

“It wasn’t the devil,” Robbie said and he added maybe to be funny, Amadeus couldn’t tell, “Also he wants me to kill you right now.”

“Sexy,” Once again he didn’t mean to say it. It just slipped out, and he couldn’t put it back in. He didn’t cower in embarrassment after this one though, he might as well roll with it.

Robbie smirked slightly as if he heard something that Amadeus couldn’t. “He really didn’t like that.”

“How mad would he be if we made out?” Amadeus asked shooting his shot. He didn’t quite understand what it would be like to have a demon on the inside, but he did have a Hulk in his consciousness up until a few months ago when he assimilated that part of his personality into himself so maybe he had an idea what that would be like.

“Probably disgusted,” Robbie mumbled. He smiled a little wider than said, “Very disgusted, and pissed. You should hear the kind of stuff he’s saying.”

“We should kiss,” Amadeus said, completely joking. Okay, maybe not completely joking. Robbie was hot, so hot, “for science.”

“You think you’re hot stuff,” Robbie said.

Amadeus smirked. This one was too easy. “I know I’m hot stuff,” he said. “I’m totally awesome, remember?”

“You’re obnoxious.”

“But I am hot,” Amadeus said winking. God, he was obnoxious…

“Has this ever worked with anyone?” Robbie asked.

“Yeah, once or twice. Being a superhero usually did it before,” Amadeus said.

“You don’t get laid much do you?”

“Ouch, you really think that of me. I’ll have you know that I get laid semi-regularly. What about you? You’re hot in bad boy has a secret soft side kind of way, bet that gets you loads of girls.”

Robbie’s eyes were so easy to get lost in. “No girlfriend remember.”

“Really? And you haven’t tried the superhero card. Girls love that. I bet guys would too. I really need to come out. How did Hercules know? I don’t think I look gay.”

“If I kiss you will you shut up?”

“I can try.”

Robbie leaned over the booth table and kissed Amadeus. Unnoticed by Amadeus, mainly because he was making out with his dream boy, Hercules and Johnny walked into the diner only to see their protege’s kissing. Hercules smiled and hit Johnny on the low of his back knocking him forward. Amadeus saw them walking towards them and sunk down into his seat hiding his eyes with his hands. God, he wanted to scream.

“I’m so fuckin’ stupid,” he groaned.

Robbie turned around and saw Johnny. He didn’t make any signs of shame, maybe he was braver than Amadeus. Hercules was practically Amadeus’s father, and he walked in on him kissing Robbie. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

“So,” Johnny said sitting next to Robbie, “what have you two been up to?”

Hercules crammed himself into the booth next to Amadeus which was not only uncomfortable because he was huge, but also uncomfortable because of what Hercules just saw.

“Have you something to tell me, Amadeus?” Hercules asked.

“I’m the dumbest man alive,” Amadeus said avoiding eye contact with everyone.

Amadeus pulled out his phone and saw that he had messages from Hercules which he checked because how much worse could his life get at this point?

“STILL LATE, APOLLO’S GEEZ.”

“THE GLORY OF THIS BATTLE WILL BE SUNG ABOUT FOR YEARS TO COME,” and attached was a picture of Hercules beaming above a defeated monster and in the background, Johnny was walking towards Herc.

“I think I’m gonna go kill myself,” Amadeus mumbled looking out the window.

“I texted Robbie too,” Johnny said, “and I used real words.”

Robbie didn’t say anything. He also didn’t check his phone either.

“We’ve already eaten,” Amadeus said still wishing he could disappear. That would be more useful than smashing right now. He wished something would come to attack them, but he didn’t have such luck.

“You’ve had a whole date while we were fighting monsters,” Johnny said glancing over at Robbie again.

“It’s my fault. I was joking and said what if y’all set us up…” Amadeus admitted.

“He wouldn’t shut up,” Robbie said.

“You know how I never shut up, Herc,” Amadeus said, “especially around hot people.”

“You are relentless,” Hercules said nodding his head knowingly.

“To shut him up your first instinct was to make out with him?”

“It was to piss Eli off,” Robbie said, and he waited a beat before saying, “and he’s not bad looking.”

Hercules punched Amadeus’s shoulder at the compliment. Amadeus rubbed his shoulder and smiled slightly at Robbie as Johnny started to chew him out for being irresponsible and purposely provoking Eli. Robbie looked over at Amadeus and rolled his eyes. Maybe he got this a lot or maybe he didn’t care. God, he was hot.

“Am I a good kisser?” Amadeus asked interrupting Johnny because no one was listening to him.

Robbie smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“If you don’t tell me I'm gonna assume it was the best kiss you've had,” Amadeus said.

“It's his only kiss,” Johnny said glaring over at Robbie. Robbie rolled his eyes, but there was something more performative about this eye roll.

Amadeus would have felt bad for Robbie if he was so happy that he was his first kiss. “Then by default, I'm your best kiss,” Amadeus said grinning.

“Doesn’t mean it was good,” Robbie grumbled.

“If you want to try again…”

“Does he ever turn off?” Johnny asked.

“For as long as I have known Amadeus he has never known silence unless to brood,” Hercules said.

“In other words, I don’t shut up,” Amadeus said.

Johnny and Hercules ordered food, and Amadeus ordered more food. He shut up when he could eat. Robbie watched them eat for a while. He ordered a kid’s meal to go, presumably for his little brother. The awkwardness of Hercules and Johnny walking in on them making out didn’t quite disappear. Amadeus talked a lot, god why did he never shut up. When it was finally time to leave Amadeus went to his car (which wasn’t just a car).

“How far are you going?” Robbie asked standing by the Hell Charger which was parked next to Amadeus’s green 1959 Dodge Coronet.

“I’m going back to Austin,” Amadeus replied.

“That’s a long trip,” Robbie said shaking his head. “You’re coming home with me for the night.”

Amadeus didn’t have the heart to tell Robbie that it would take about an hour to get home in his car because then he would have to admit that nothing about it was original which was the greatest sin he could commit in the presence of a car guy. He just agreed and got in the Hell Charger.

“We’ll come back to get your car tomorrow,” Robbie said. “It won’t get towed in that time.”

Amadeus probably looked like a lovestruck idiot as he watched Robbie drive his car down the road with ease. He kept his eyes on the road and seemed to know the car so well shifting effortlessly and weaving in and out of traffic. God, he was hot.

“Finally decided to shut up,” Robbie said glancing over a smile playing on his lips.

Amadeus looked away maybe more than a little embarrassed. “You get this good at driving cuz of the whole Ghost Rider thing or some other reason?”

“I was a good driver before,” Robbie said hitting the gas and blazing passed more cars.

“That’s hot.”

Robbie started to slow down as he reached a residential area. Amadeus stared out the window.

“Is what’s going on here what I think is going on or am I just projecting?” Amadeus asked finally looking over at Robbie.

“What do you think is going on?”

“Was that kiss a one-time thing?”

Robbie parked the Hell Charger and turned to look at Amadeus. God, he was hot. He leaned over and kissed Amadeus again. This time it was more deliberate and longer. Robbie’s thumb brushed against Amadeus’s chin, and it drove him wild.

“It’s a two-time thing now,” Robbie said getting out of the car with the to-go bag clasped in his hand. Amadeus got out of the car trying to get Robbie to give him some kind of explanation on what was going on, but Robbie was already going into the house.

“I’m back!” Robbie said opening the door, “and I brought a friend.”

Amadeus ducked in after Robbie. Gabe’s eyes widened. “It’s the Hulk!” he exclaimed.

“Just Brawn right now,” Amadeus said smiling at the kid’s excitement, “or Amadeus since we’re friends.”

“How in the world did you two meet?” Lisa asked looking away from the board game she and Gabe were playing on the living room floor.

“He has exceptional taste in muscle cars,” Amadeus said, “I met him a while ago when a friend of mine needed her car fixed.” That wasn’t a lie. Well, he wasn’t sure he would consider Laura a friend; all he did was hit on her the whole time they were together.

Robbie handed Gabe his dinner, and Gabe cheered. “You’re the best, Robbie!”

“I’m gonna take Lisa home. You and Amadeus should hang out.”

Amadeus sat next to Gabe and stuck out his hand to him. “Howdy,” he said jokingly.

“What are the Champions like?” The kid didn’t waste time, but honestly, Amadeus loved talking about the Champions he was so proud of them.

“Oh, they’re great,” Amadeus said. “I bet I could get you in to meet them if your big brother lets you.”

Gabe cheered. He convinced Amadeus to play with his toys with him. They both laid on their stomachs and had mock battles with the Avengers. Amadeus had the Hulk obviously. Gabe had Ironman, and Amadeus let Gabe win in their beat down even though the Hulk was much stronger than Ironman.

“What kind of wheelchair do you have?” Amadeus asked rolling slightly to look at it.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Gabe said. “Why?”

Amadeus grinned. “I want to give you an upgrade,” he said.

Gabe smiled. “Whoa, how?”

Amadeus winked. “I like building things,” he said. He clicked a button on his watch and wait for his car to get there. There was a loud noise as his car landed. “Here it is.” He jumped up and got some things from the trunk of his car.

“How did you do that?” Gabe asked reaching for Amadeus’s arm to look at his watch as he set out all the things he got out of his car on the ground.

“My car is remote, and it can fly,” Amadeus said smiling.

Gabe gasped. “That’s so cool!”

Amadeus grinned and put a pair of safety glasses on Gabe then started to work on Gabe’s wheelchair.

“So, Lisa’s Robbie’s friend?” Smooth Amadeus.

“Yeah, she’s got a crush on Robbie though,” Gabe said.

“Does she now,” Amadeus said biting his tongue slightly and laying back so he could see what he was working on. He may not have green eyes, but he sure was feeling like the green-eyed monster right now. Robbie wasn’t his boyfriend, but if he was playing with Amadeus’s heart…

“I thought he had a crush on her too, but he hasn’t started dating her yet. She’s sad about that,” Gabe said.

“That’s go-” Amadeus corrected himself, “interesting.” God, he was a jerk, wasn’t he…

“I like Lisa hanging out with us, but I just want Robbie to be happy,” Gabe said.

Amadeus smiled. “Can you hand me the blue tool?”

Robbie got back a few minutes later. “How did-”

“His car is remote, and it can fly!” Gabe exclaimed handing Amadeus one of his tools.

“What are you doing?” Robbie asked squatting down to be on the same level as Amadeus and Gabe.

“Giving Gabe’s wheelchair an upgrade,” Amadeus replied. “Right now I’m extending the battery life, but I could build a really cool one if you want. Maybe I’ll make one that can fly.”

“Do it!” Gabe exclaimed.

Amadeus smiled and reached out for another tool. He worked on the wheelchair for a few hours until Gabe started to get sleepy. Robbie picked him up and took him to bed then tucked him in.

“How’s long this gonna take?” Robbie asked sitting down next to Amadeus.

“I’m almost…” Amadeus had his tongue between his teeth. He finished one last thing then dropped his tools and wiped his forehead. “Done.”

“And the battery life will last longer?” Robbie said inspecting Amadeus’s work.

“It shouldn’t ever die,” Amadeus replied.

Robbie stared at it mouth open. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“I think this deserves a kiss,” Amadeus joked sitting up.

Robbie kissed him suddenly falling on top of him. Amadeus didn’t quite know what to do with his hands so he placed them on Robbie’s hips. Robbie rolled off him staring at the ceiling.

“That was nice,” Amadeus said reaching out for Robbie’s hand.

“You are a good kisser, by the way,” Robbie said rolling onto his side to look at Amadeus.

“Damn straight I am,” Amadeus said.

Robbie smiled then inched closer to lay his head on Amadeus’s chest. Amadeus wrapped his arms around Robbie and drew him closer.

“So, I know we’ve only made-out a few times, but what are we?” Amadeus asked.

“Oof, movin’ fast are we?”

“It’s a habit, sorry,” Amadeus said. It wasn’t really his fault. In the superhero business, he had to move fast otherwise you’d never get anywhere with anyone.

“Give me a little time. I’m new to this whole making out with other superheroes thing.”

“Was I your first kiss?” Amadeus asked sincerely curious after what Johnny said to him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

Fictober Prompt No. 19 — “Yes, I admit it, you were right.”

Fanfiction (Tales from The Borderlands) Set in an AU sometime before the beginning of the game. More like a trailer for a full fic that could happen in the future CW: Spoilers and strangulation because it’s kinda par for the course y’know Words: 906

***

"Oh, perfect."

The cubicle gremlin walking far too close behind Rhys for no other reason than being a cubicle gremlin unaware of his surroundings didn't anticipate him stopping abruptly, causing him to smack into his CEO from behind. Rhys, who had gone rigid with terror enough to root him to the floor, barely noticed as his employee ricocheted back into a potted plant and knocked dirt all across the hallway.

Rhys spun around, not to make sure the guy was alright—because at that moment he didn't even know he existed, let alone the custodian loudly cursing him out from the corner—but to make sure what he'd heard had not actually been spoken and that he'd only imagined it had been spoken in the voice he'd had nightmares about for the last two years.

"Mm," the voice said again. "You're not gonna find me over there, cupcake. A little to your left. No, more. A liiiittle more…ha, nah I'm just fuckin' with you. I kinda like the coziness of your cybernetics. Feels like a lil' house for me."

Rhys broke into a cold sweat, unsure of what to do. He realized then that his right hand had clenched into a shiny metal fist without his knowledge.

"...I have a tendency to burn down houses, in case you've forgotten."

The robot arm shot up and its powerful hand closed around Rhys' throat, shoving him violently into the wall, pinning him with a titanium grip. Another hand materialized around the wrist, not at all blue and noncorporeal like he'd expected, but flesh and blood, white-knuckled, holding so tight with unprecedented strength that when Rhys attempted to fight back, the arm sparked and whirred in protest.

"Tell your little peons," Jack growled in his ear, signature masked face fading into Rhys' peripheral, "that Daddy's fine. Nothin' to see here."

Rhys, bug-eyed for several reasons all at once and in desperate need of air and circulation to his brain, glanced at the small crowd gathered near the end of the hall. They stared at him, alarmed.

"I'm...f-fine," Rhys managed to eke out. "N-nobody...come help me...or...a-anything…."

"We've got a lot to chat about, Rhysie baby," Jack said. "So move along to your dinky office like a good boy and I'll pretend you didn't just try to subtly hint that you're in dire need of rescuing. Not that it matters," he added with a smarmy chuckle. "To them, it looks like you're just having one of your run-of-the-mill mental breakdowns. Real cute, kinda disconcerting for the CEO of a major corporation."

Rhys looked him right in the eye. "Wh-why...should I...do anything you s-say…?"

"That's just...not a smart question. Possibly the dumbest question ever asked in the history of the universe. You are strangling yourself. I am making you strangle yourself. You wanna be defiant? Sure, I got no problem ending your miserable life right here."

"You're not...real...."

Jack's smile widened until it stretched across almost his entire face and he leered at Rhys with a predatory gleam in his eye. "I don't think I need to be, do I?"

Rhys slumped into the plush fabric of his office chair minutes later, throat already badly bruised as well as his ego. He held a glass of ice from his minibar up to his pulse point and watched Handsome Jack do a slow spin in the middle of the room, nodding in approval at select pieces of decoration.

"Yeah, I'll admit it," Rhys croaked, "you were right."

"You're gonna have to be more specific."

Rhys cast his gaze to a point over Jack's head—one of the three oversized gaudy-as-hell chandeliers that came halfway down from the ceiling. "We're not so different. You're right."

"Yeah, I'm really just here to get a hold of your business and ruin your life, so if you could save the platitudes and shove 'em right up your scrawny ass, that'd be great."

"You're not gonna succeed, Jack. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that."

"Here's the thing," Jack said, taking his sweet time to make his way over to the desk. "I'm not in your cybernetics. There's no way I could be."

Rhys rolled his eyes. "Right, after the 'cozy little cybernetic house' comment I'm supposed to believe—"

"This is all your brain. I can't tell if you snapped after Pandora or somethin' miswired or if you just...were so obsessed with me that you long for my presence and infinite wisdom—"

"Gag me."

"Oh, we'll get to that later—but I'm not in your eyeball anymore. I'm right...up here." He jabbed a finger at Rhys' forehead and he felt it; sank back in his seat at the unexpected contact, eyes wide. "Or am I? Who's to say I'm not real? Will you ever truly know?"

Rhys, still shellshocked about being able to feel the finger on his skull, dropped his glass of ice and shot his chair back so fast it toppled over with him on it. "No...no, you're not real. This is...this is a very elaborate prank. I...I'm in a nightmare. I gotta wake myself up…."

Jack perched himself on the desk, propped his feet up on the overturned chair, linked his hands behind his head. "Wakey, wakey! Rise and shine and smell the roses covered in skag shit, sweetheart, 'cause I'm here, and you're not gettin' rid of me this time."

[everymovie2020]

Armageddon (1998)

Date watched:  25 May 2019

It's time for part two of the Deep Impact/Armageddon double banger Saturday!

Look, this movie is an all time classic.  I think we can all agree on that.  It's unbelievably nuts, totally preposterous, but it's got a great cast and it's so stupid that it's fun.  And really, isn't that what you want?

Plot:

There's an asteroid coming for Earth, and it decides to show itself by smashing the ever-loving fuck out of New York and a space station, and it's only then that NASA realises that shit is about to get very real.

So they hatch a scheme to drill down into the asteroid and plant nuclear bombs inside to blow it up (very familiar plot line to another movie I have recently reviewed), and they decide they need to get experienced drillers, so that's where Bruce Willis comes in as Harry fuckin' Stamper.

Harry runs an oil rig, he's the best in the biz – he's got Ben Affleck, Steve Buscemi and Owen Wilson on staff, so you know he's good – and he likes hitting golfballs at Greenpeace boats (because trying to save the environment is oh so fucking laughable isn't it?).

His daughter, Liv Tyler, is banging Affleck, and in the dumbest part of the movie, Harry is pissed off about this even though his daughter is super smart, multilingual, totally capable, a badass bitch (who basically spends the entire second half of the movie silent and staring at television screens with a quivering lower lip), he reduces her to a child and tells her that she can't date the guy she wants to date.  And he acts surprised when his TWENTY-SOMETHING DAUGHTER HAS SEX, like, HARRY. FOR REAL.  SHE'S A GROWN ASS WOMAN AND IF SHE WANTS TO BANG HOT BEN AFFLECK SHE CAN.

Sidenote – Ben Affleck was never hotter than he was in this movie.  All greasy and shit?  Yeah. That's my kinda Affleck.

So BBT enlists Harry and the gang to be his space drillers – did I mention they only have two weeks to pull this crap off? – and they get to go to NASA boot camp with the real badass astronauts.  There's a whole montage of that before they finally go up in the spaceships, dock with a Russian space station (was this meant to be Mir?), which they promptly blow up – because of course they do – and also, like, don't explosions happen differently in space because there's no oxygen to produce fire?

I could google it but I mean I don't want to.

Now they've got a stowaway with them, Peter Stormare, so he's on board for when the spaceships loop around the back of the moon and catch up with the asteroid, and then one of the ships gets smashed to pieces and crashes on the asteroid, so everyone thinks Ben Affleck is dead and Liv Tyler cries and looks generally heartbroken, but in a beautiful way.

But he's not dead, he and Peter Stormare and Michael Clarke Duncan are alive (not Owen Wilson though, in one of the more significant bummers of this movie, and continuing the trifecta of movies in the late 90s where Owen Wilson died an untimely death – also including such notable movies as Anaconda and The Haunting, and yes, I was an Owen Wilson superfan for a short time in the early 2000s), and so they make the dangerous journey across the asteroid until they finally make it to where Bruce Willis and the others are… and look, I mean, I don't know how asteroids work exactly, but I don't think they have roads.

The absolute, hands-down, funniest part of this movie occurs before Ben Affleck and the others arrive, and it's when Steve Buscemi is going a bit bonkers, and William Fichtner says this amazing, unforgettable line:

"This is insane." (pause for effect) "He's got space dementia."

I mean, it just fucking KILLS ME.  I have accused my cats on occasions of having space dementia.

SPACE DEMENTIA.

SPACE.  DEMENTIA.

I LOVE IT.

It may be my favourite line from any movie?  It's just so fucking good.

So anyway, they dig the holes, and then it turns out they can't arm the nuclear bomb remotely because of reasons, so Ben Affleck draws the short straw, and then Harry fuckin' Stamper pulls the ol' switcheroo on Affleck and takes his place, so he can go back down to Earth and continue banging Liv Tyler.  It's beautiful.

There's a lot of action in Armageddon but not a lot of disaster-style stuff happening on Earth – I mean, New York gets a bit blown up in the first ten minutes and then Paris gets really fucked over towards the end, like, Jesus Christ asteroid, what the fuck did Paris ever do to you.  

Most of the action takes place in space.  I mean, if you're going to be a disaster movie, I'm going to need to see more shit getting fucked up on Earth.  Just saying.

I don't know.  On this re-watch I enjoyed Deep Impact more, but Deep Impact doesn't feature space dementia as a storyline, so… is it even any good?  I just can't say for certain.

[minijenn]

So I know I shouldn’t give ya’ll a preview his fuckin big but ehhhhh whatever here ya go enjoy the snark/plot foreshadowing from the Org. 13 Sass Squad: 

“Oh please,” Demyx scoffed, clutching his sitar as he joined the pair. “You guys couldn’t do it last time, what makes you think you could pull that whole ‘coup’ thing off now?” The melodious nocturne grinned as he strummed a few notes on his instrument. “You gotta play it smart, like me.”

“What?” Larxene shot back crossly. “You’re not smart! In fact, you’re just about the dumbest person in the Organization, but old and new!”

Demyx shrugged, seemingly unoffended. “Well, you heard what Marly said. I don’t have to be smart.”

“Or capable, or likeable, or attractive,” Larxene listed off, her hands on her hips. “A cereal bowl would make a better vessel!”

“Whoa, now you’re way out of line,” Demyx countered. “I am extremely imposing… When I want to be. Which is, admittedly, almost never.”

“Well, that’s one thing you got right,” the savage nymph huffed coldly. “Looks like the old man is getting desperate if he’d take someone like you back into the Organization. Probably only ‘cause his plan to get the true prize he’d had his eye on didn’t end up working out for him.”

“Huh?” Demyx frowned, confused. “What prize?”

“Ugh, seriously?” Larxene exclaimed in appalled disbelief. “You can’t be that stupid. But then again, since this is you we’re talking about here, maybe you can be.”

“You and a few of the others who were only just brought back are too late to have known,” Marluxia interjected much more calmly. “But she’s talking about Sora.”

“Whaaaaa?!” Demyx exclaimed, genuinely surprised to hear this. However, before he could ask any of his many newfound questions, a Corridor of Darkness suddenly materialized, allowing a fourth member to join in on the engaging conversation.

“Ah, so the whispers I’ve heard among the higher rungs are indeed true then…” Luxord mused with a knowing grin as he offered the others a small nod of greeting.

“You’re in again too?” Larxene spoke up before the gambler of fate could continue. “What is this, Organization Rehash?”

“I happen to play an important role, even despite my rather recent revival,” Luxord assured. “Unlike some… others, perhaps.”

“So you were listening this whole time?” Demyx asked as he strummed a low note on his sitar. “So not cool.”

The gambler of fate chuckled. “One must hold one’s cards as long as necessary,” he said, conjuring up a deck in his hand to playfully flip about. “Even so, the context you just provided me with… certainly does shuffle the deck in an interesting way. Now I believe I finally understand what I overheard from Xemnas when he said we haven’t lost our proposed thirteen vessel just yet…”

The three younger members exchanged a rather baffled glance at this before they looked back to Luxord once more, overwhelmed with curiosity to hear more about what he’d gleaned from the Organizations’ leaders. “What are you talking about?” Larxene asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Either we all heard what happened by now,” Marluxia added, the slightest hint of confusion in his otherwise usually collected tone. “Or we were all there to see it for ourselves. Xehanort’s attempt at forcing Sora to join our ranks were halted by none other than Axel. His plan, however complex and intricate as it might have been, was a failure.”

“Ah, or so it might have seemed at the time,” Luxord retorted, holding up a single card as he flipped it over to show the rest. “But a single wild card is all it takes to turn an otherwise unsavory hand…” His smile widened as several more matching cards appeared in his hand to create a perfect full house. “Into a full set.”