#mooky’s answers

[anistarrose]

thoughts on taako and/or magnus babysitting merle's kids and the ensuing chaos that may result (passes you the mic)

oh, what a delight... for starters, I think that Mavis thinks the coolest person from the Story is Lucretia, and Mookie thinks the coolest person from the Story is Merle, obviously, but like, really closely followed by Lup. the second this becomes apparent to Taako and/or Magnus, they immediately dive into Win the Hero Worship of These Small Children mode. they're on that Cool Uncle Grind.

Taako tries to instill a love of cooking in these children, because Jeffandrew knows their father won't (Merle is actually a good enough cook to like, meet the most basic of dietary needs, but Taako's standards are orders of magnitude higher than that), but the furthest Taako gets with the kids is getting Mookie to watch hot dogs blowing up in the fantasy microwave.

Magnus takes them on a field trip to dog school. Taako takes them on a field trip to Taako's Amazing School of Magic, 'cause you've gotta start making an impression early or else they'll go to the competition, like Angus. Taako and Magnus both have big dreams of their respective field trips being interrupted by dastardly evildoers and powerful enemies, allowing them opportunities to save the day and prove to the children how badass they are — but were this a fic, there would be a running gag about Lup having brought Merle along for a Reaper mission where they keep almost crossing paths with their family, and thwarting necromancer's schemes just slightly out of view of Magnus and Taako before a real threat can present itself.

but don't worry, Merle is also constantly bemoaning that he can never succeed at anything cool or even uncharacteristically competent when any of his kids (whether big kids or little kids) are around to see him. they still love him though (even if the way Mavis finally opens up to Magnus and Taako is by discovering a shared love of roasting their father)

[sibylsleaves]

Mookie betts wants assistant coach buck hot pitcher eddie soooo bad… freddie freeman on the other hand…

Freddie I’m beginning to doubt your commitment to sparkle motion!!!

[daily-nightmare-sans]

You can absolutely use my art as your wallpaper!!!

On my stars??!!

Ive never had someone want to use my art as wallpaper before ❤️❤️❤️

Fr tho I love it so much?

It reminds me of one of those paintings, not exactly renaissance, but something kinda like that with the pose and everything?

Also I really like the outfit in general.

[bxnnybimbeax]

thinking about.. best friend!satoru gojo who immediately answers when you come calling

bestie!gojo who not-so-secretly, secretly has feelings for you

bestie!gojo who knows everything there is to know about you. Your oh-so wonderful taste in partners… Your likes and dislikes, hobbies, career plans, plans for the future.. anything and everything. Even if you do or don’t exactly tell him

bestie!gojo who drops everything that he’s doing to come see you, when hearing your incoherent sentences of something along the lines of, “…. dumped boyfriend… cheated..”

bestie!gojo who comforts you in your time of need. Listening to all your rants about your ex-boyfriend, supplying you with whatever he thinks would cheer you up, offering you comforting words instead of solutions.

What a great best friend to have!! Right..?

“I hate him so much! What a no good bitch ass womanizer!!” You exclaimed in a fit of rage, scrolling through the posts of the woman who, your ex cheated on you with, as satoru tiredly sighs.

“What does she have that I don’t-“ and before you could continue on, you get cut off by your best friend, Satoru. “Absolutely nothing, sweetheart. You should know your worth by now. It’s not something you have or ‘don’t have,’ it’s the simple minded mentality of… What’s his name again?— Doesn’t matter, He’s too simple minded to know the true worth of what he has in front of him.” He tangibly states, as if it was the most well-known fact in the world.

You attempted to up at him through your clouded vision, blinking away tears that spilled like waterfalls. Taking glances between Satoru, and the images on your phone, you stay silent as he studies you, pools of cool colored diamond eyes staring into yours, hoping to see any slight change of positivity.

He sighs again, taking a seat on your bed as he snatches your phone away from you, and before you could protest, he cuts you off once again… by pulling you close, into a hug. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him, as you let out all your pent up feelings. Sobbing into his chest, as he soothes circles into your back, not caring that you mess up whatever designer shirt he’s wearing.

Satoru’s heart breaks hearing you hurt, he wants nothing more than to ruin whoever was the cause of your problems. But right now, he’s more focused on you.

Satoru hushes your cries, wiping away the salty crystalline off your face as he speaks up, “Oh baby, don’t waste your tears on him. He has no idea what he’s missing out on. Don’t waste your energy on a leech that only takes from you, and never gives. Your deserve someone who reciprocates your feelings, and so much more.” He admitted in a dulcet tone, giving feathery caresses to the side of your face, as he placed a sparse kiss to the side of your temple.

“Cheer up, theses plenty of people who would give the world and die for your affection.” He states in a much more cheerful and playful tone, making you laugh in response to his exaggerated claim.

…

best friend! Satoru who stays with you, through the night. Comforting and creating a much more positive atmosphere to the contrasted gloomy mood

best friend! Satoru who maybe, you don’t see as just a friend anymore..?

A/N: Whats goody gangy. ☝🏾🤓 Sorry I was gone for 5 months I was going thru it with some bitch ass nigga I dumped, which is kinda what I based this fic off of, except no boy bsf I’m in love with to comfort me.💔 He made me delete tumblr so I couldn’t write 😞 I still kept on reading tho 😈

Not proof read btw, bc I’m high as a mf, writing with dyslexia. And it’s late a night, idk if it’s gonna be late when I post this tho😛

If y’all sent a request, resend it plssss. 🙏🏾 I need inspo mookies, and if you have a request feel free to send one in. Msg me abt wtv, and lmk if I can improve on anything

Thanks lovies take care and, hope y’all enjoyed!! 🩷

-bxnnybimbeax

[parallelunivrses]

@tempestandtea I’VE GOT MY CROCHET READY WE’RE DOING IT

[ID: first photo is a reply from tempestandtea saying “DO IT”

Second photo shows a tv with the first scene from the first Supernatural episode visible, a shot of some trees with the text “Lawrence, Kansas 22 years ago”. OP is visible in the foreground under a blanket with a partially finished, multicolored crochet project in their lap. End ID]

hmmmm kinda wanna rewatch all of spn………… haven’t done a full rewatch since season 10 was airing I think……… is this a terrible idea….. yes. will that stop me though………

[sams-asks]

“Pookie, why aren’t you answering me. Grrr" eyes turn red "grr, oh no.. its a full moon" starts turning into a wolf 🐺🐺🐺🐺 "OH NO. POOKIE RUN!!!!" ✈✈ *Turns into a full wolf. "GRRRR BARK BARK" 🧍🧍🧍🏢🏢🛸 bites you in the arm "oh no.. oopsies" 😅😅😅 eyes turn back to normal "sorry pookie dookie mookie sookie lookie bookie nookie bear" 😘😘 "oh no not again!!" ‼️‼️‼️‼️eyes turn red again "GRRR BARK" turns into an attack helicopter 🚁 ‼️"BZZZ BZZZZ BEZZZ BZZZ" shoots missile at you "OH NO, WATCH OUT!!!" 🐺🐺🐺🧍🧍✈✈🛸🛸🛸🪂👵🏻👨🏾 missile hits you "OH NO!!" ‼️‼️ 🏢🏢 I turn back into a human "no.. pookie.. I cant loose you.." 😭 a tear rolls down my face.. "no... NOOOOOO" 😭😭😭‼️‼️‼️🐻 "bye.. pookers...” Explodes ✈🏢🏢🧍🧍🧍🧍💀💀💀

seb and abby are both here reading this with me... they want you to know that this is the "worst thing" they've ever read.

[beachsideufo]

Are you the creator of my pookie cookie wookie lookie mookie Yum Zlurplie?!? If so I got some questions ☝️

1. Can I use Yum Zlurplie as my gender and pronouns?

2. Does Yum Zlurplie like clone riggy (me and my friends got the quote "and loves clone riggy" in the wiki page) ?

3. Do you like how you drew him?

4. Can Yum Zlurplie become a sink?

yeah shure i gues

i...... dont know.. who that is.. so no

sorta! its a pictures

my very small lawyer said i cannot answer this

[sayheykid]

hi youre the first person [who doesnt like the outcome of the mlb postseason] that showed up when i searched baseball and i need ANSWERS !!! i only really recently got into mlb so im out of the loop but why do people call certain teams “evil”??? is it just trash talking or is it like a serious accusation or are people just mad over teams spending lots of money please help im so confused

hi! you picked a hell of a time to get into baseball lol. i'll do my best to explain.

i don't think any team is quantifiably evil in any real way, but it's a combination of factors. Yes, these two teams spend a lot of money (iirc they're the two most expensive teams in the league) and they've been spending money for years to be consistently pretty good. The dodgers have been in the playoffs every year for the last decade, the yankees have made it every year except one since 2017.

because these teams spend so much money, they have some of the biggest players in the game. these are names like shohei ohtani, aaron judge, juan soto, mookie betts, freddie freeman etc. good players on good teams get marketed more -> they get pushed by the league to the point where you can't escape them -> people who don't really care about those players or their teams start to resent hearing about them. i used to be ambivalent about judge, now i actively dislike him. i used to LOVE ohtani, and while he's still the only dodger i want to see succeed, i also don't want every post i see on instagram to be about him.

also, both teams are known to have pretty obnoxious fanbases, not to mention they're both extremely big market teams (more people follow these teams than teams like detroit or washington) no matter who wins, either team is going to be even more inescapable than they already are.

overall, the general sentiment is while yes, it's fun to hate these teams because they're big and successful, it's also just a very boring matchup because we've been hearing about them all year. there's no surprise, there's no excitement, you basically just know they're going to hit a bunch of home runs and we'll see highlights for the next five months. idk. there's no soul in this matchup and i wish they could both lose but also sports fans are known for being dramatic.

[beardedmrbean]

WILMINGTON, Del. − A federal jury convicted Hunter Biden of federal gun charges, a historic first for the offspring of a sitting president, after a trial featuring wrenching emotional testimony about his drug use from his ex-wife and sister-in-law.

President Joe Biden's son faces up to 25 years in prison for three charges − lying on a federal screening form about his drug use, lying to a gun dealer and possessing the gun − although first-time, nonviolent offenders typically get shorter sentences.

The 54-year old businessman and attorney's case came after a plea deal fell apart in July 2023 that could have resolved gun and taxes charges without prison time. Hunter Biden still faces another federal trial starting Sept. 5 in California for allegedly avoiding taxes.

Biden's legal troubles coincide with his father campaigning for reelection. But the elder Biden as the trial kicked off issued a statement supporting his son and later told ABC News he wouldn't pardon him.

Follow along for live updates from the USA TODAY Network.

What is Hunter Biden guilty of?

The president's son was convicted on three firearms felonies. In October 2018, Hunter Biden walked into a gun shop north of Wilmington, Delaware, and purchased a revolver. People who purchase firearms are required to fill out a standardized form that asks whether they are an unlawful user or are addicted to controlled substances, narcotics and other listed substances. Biden is accused of answering "no" to that question on the form.

But Biden has been open about his longtime struggles with crack cocaine addiction. He's written about it in his 2021 memoir, "Beautiful Things," and discussed it during a court hearing last year, stating he's been sober since 2019.

Biden faces a maximum sentence of 25 years in prison, although first-time and non-violent offenders are often given shorter terms.

– Xerxes Wilson

Hunter Biden looks to lawyer, wife after verdict announced

Hunter Biden pat Abbe Lowell, his lawyer, on the back after his felony conviction was announced. He then turned to look at his wife, Melissa Cohen Biden and hugged other members of his defense team.

He was holding his wife's hand as he was ushered into elevators after the court adjourned.

– Xerxes Wilson and Esteban Parra

Hallie Biden received texts about drugs from Hunter Biden

Hallie Biden, the widow of Beau Biden, testified during the trial about how her brother-in-law introduced her to drugs. She also walked the jury through a series of text messages in the days after Hunter Biden bought the gun on Oct. 12, 2018.

A text the next day said he was behind a baseball stadium in Wilmington “waiting on a dealer named Mookie.”

Hallie Biden later texted Hunter Biden, stating that she tried calling him “500 times in the past 24 hours.” He eventually responded: “I was sleeping on a car smoking crack on 4th Street and Rodney.”

Hunter Biden called Hallie Biden ‘stupid’ for trashing gun

Hallie Biden told the jury she found the gun in Hunter Biden's car 11 days after he bought it. Rather than risk their kids finding it, she put the gun in a leather case and drove to a grocery store, where she threw it into a trash can.

“I realized it was a stupid idea now, but I was just panicking,” Hallie Biden said.

Hunter Biden confronted her when he discovered what she had done.

“It’s hard for me to believe anyone is that stupid,” Hunter Biden said in a text. “Do you want me dead?” he asked in a later text.

Retiree found gun in grocery store trash can

An 80-year-old retiree, Edward Banner, who scavenged trash containers for aluminum cans, found the gun outside Janssen’s Market in Greenville. A state police lieutenant tracked him down and asked whether he’d found anything unusual.

“I definitely remember finding that,” Banner said.

FBI chemist found cocaine residue on Hunter Biden gun pouch

Forensic chemist Jason Brewer testified that he found cocaine in the residue on the leather pouch that held Hunter Biden’s gun. Two spots on the pouch had a “minimal amount” of “off-white powder,” which Brewer pointed out in a picture prosecutors projected onto a screen in Biden’s trial on gun charges.

“Cocaine was identified within the residual white particles I sampled,” he told the jury.

Biden trial followed collapse of plea deal for gun and tax charges

A plea agreement that fell apart last July offered the possibility Biden could avoid jail time for all of the charges. Noreika rejected the deal because of disputes between prosecutors and defense lawyers about Biden’s protection from future charges.

Attorney General Merrick Garland appointed the U.S. attorney in Delaware, David Weiss, a special counsel to continue an independent investigation. Biden's lawyer, Abbe Lowell, argued unsuccessfully the charges should be dismissed because no new evidence had emerged since the plea agreement.

The gun indictment charged Biden with knowingly deceiving a firearms dealer by buying a Colt Cobra 38SPL revolver. He was charged with falsely filling out a federal form denying he was addicted to any narcotics. And he was charged with knowingly possessing the revolver despite the restrictions against people addicted to drugs owning firearms. The three charges carried a maximum penalty of 25 years in prison.

The tax indictment charges Biden with three felony tax offenses and six misdemeanors. He allegedly engaged in a scheme in which he failed to pay at least $1.4 million in self-assessed taxes from 2016 through 2019, and also evaded tax assessment for 2018 when he filed false returns.

The previous agreement would have allowed Biden to plead guilty to two misdemeanor tax charges, which could have resulted in no jail time, and enter a pretrial program for a gun charge that could have been dismissed if he complied.

But Republicans blasted the agreement as a sweetheart deal and Hunter Biden became a lightning rod for criticism of his father.

[novemberthewriter]

good bones (or, an exercise in letting go) [1300 wds]

genre: literary/dramedy

[cw: surgery talk, body image, colorism, fatphobia, depression, negative self-talk, emotional neglect, strained relationships]

-

Mark ‘Mookie’ Simon, age 30, will break his first bones under the care of Doctor Armand in Tijuana, Mexico. He will have four osteotomies of the jaw over six months while Dodie plays caregiver (yes, paid). Dodie’s unbothered because it’s not skin bleaching or a black market butt lift or something else equally heinous, but also Very Bothered Enough to give Mookie another rendition of Why You Wanna Play With Your Face So Bad from the driver’s seat as they head to Hartsfield-Jackson Airport.

And yet again, Mookie tells her, We don’t all have good bones.

Dodie’s a good enough friend that she'll accept a half-story as long as she can monitor him. Mookie’s grateful. He’s still figuring out how to give her the whole truth. 

The PR reason is that he wants a competitive edge. Mookie is better known as Hennesse Williams, fast-growing queen of the Atlanta drag scene, and he wants to expand his horizons. He considered the staple practices: the buzzcuts for better wig placement, the spanx for a smoother look in skirts. What was wrong with something more permanent? He still can’t find an answer. Even little old ladies get chin lifts, tattooed brows. Gertrude can save at the Clinique counter and Mookie can save time contouring to look like he’s got a Disney Tarzan jaw. 

The true reason is a bit more involved.

It goes back decades.

The Weight had been the monkey on Mookie’s back (and belly, and hips, and arms, and everywhere) since birth. The Simons of Southern Georgia, USA were always markedly svelte; Mookie was nothing like them. Sure, he had the same twang and hazel eyes and tawny skin, but his facial features stretched wide, his frame and family bones buried deep under fat. It didn’t take long for him to figure out that whatever gene made the Simons energetic, ambitious, and burn off soul food like nothing had skipped him over. His childhood was spent in the solace of the N64 while Dorothy had the nerve to start singing and the gall to be good at it. 

[DOROTHY ANNE enters stage center. She is twelve years old. The stage is the Apollo, the Ole Opry, the hearts of most Simons and the world over. MOOKIE is her younger brother. He is eight years old. MOOKIE exits stage left and becomes a glass child.]

[MOOKIE wonders if there is such a thing as a glass parent. He lives with his folks yet he knows nothing about them.]

It had been many years of being grudgingly taken on tour when a blessing came to him in the form of vaudeville. (One can’t repeatedly visit New York without falling into its oldest theatre traditions.) Vaudeville became drag. Drag begot a creativity and athleticism he’d never known was possible for someone like him. Newly seventeen and now those bones that'd bent under the weight of himself and his sadness were suddenly carrying Mookie through a new chapter.  Gave strength to Hennessee, a larger-than-life character who was so very cathartic to become. Strength on his own small stages, performing for people of all ages who loved him. Strength in the streets to evade the people who sought to hurt him for finding himself. The biggest blessing: meeting Miss Dodie James.

[DODIE JAMES enters stage right. She is eighteen. She is a copper-skinned snark machine, a super-fan, and is more than happy to be Mookie’s right hand woman.]

But Dorothy was twenty and Nashville wanted her for good, so her managers  Mookie’s glass parents went with and sent him to stay with a half-dead great-aunt in ATL. He kept contact with Dodie, grew a name for himself in Georgia, kept his sights set on a forever home in New York one day. 

It was a letter from Dorothy that changed everything.

Mookie was blindsided. Her crooning and cowboy fringe had been so separate from his glitter and cocktail pantomime for so long. Read a few words with shaking hands, thought, You have everything. You don’t need me, too. Changed his address and his name and now he’s changing his face.

He’ll finally move to New York. If another Simon ever sees him again, their eyes will slide past him just as they’ve always done.

(He knows in his bones this is how it’s meant to be.)

The Tijuana condo has two bedrooms but Dodie’s bunking with him. Just for now - now that she knows everything. 

It’s the night before the first surgery. 

It starts with this, Dodie says from her side of the bed. Then you nip and tuck, nip and tuck till you’re the Black Ken Doll From Hell. What happens when we both die and they gotta identify you?

Mookie closes his eyes. They don’t know me for my smile. They can check my teeth. 

+++

[The stage is MOOKIE’S SKULL – pitch black, pain-free room. The buzz of a BONE SAW reverberates. MANDIBLE floor shudders and breaks under pressure.]

Recovery is this:

-A wired jaw

-Dodie doing all the talking in Tijuana (Mookie S.O.B.S., which means he Spares Others from his Broken Spanish)

-Dodie tending his wounds 

-Endless milkshakes and purees and Peridex mouthwash

-Extended time to shop floor show ideas

By night he falls asleep sweating under fans with 'novelas in one ear and a Bronx accent in the other (Dodie never moved into her own room).

When he gets onstage as Hennessee again he’ll have much to answer for. He deliberately kept the reason for his leave vague but he knows someone will put two and two together before he returns to American soil. (Queued media posts can only tide fans over for so long.) With this liquid diet he’s lightening up so much, too, and so having a snatched face and waist will make Hennessee the talk of Midtown. It’s all enough material for several shows over and Mookie’s pushing his pen overtime in this condo. (His jaw aches with the urge to practice aloud more than anything. Properly, not the ventriloquist dummy murmuring he can do through the wire right now.) He has way too many puns about mental gymnastics. 

[He, MOOKIE SIMON, grown-ass glass child, is she, HENNESSEE WILLIAMS, drag superstar and legendary gaywright of the 21st century. She is in Baja California with ten journals and a dry erase board and she’s not afraid to use them.]

The page on the bed between two friends comprises the scribblings of madmen. Mookie can’t tell where his ideas end and Dodie’s begin. He writes ‘Operation MB’, gives her room to work. Quickly gives her a metal grin – she’s just drawn Brain Surgery Cavity Sam instead of Full Body Cavity Sam.

Isolation got us on the same wavelength, Mookie writes.

Dodie shakes her head. We were already there. 

And that’s another thing to contend with: he's not sure when Dodie crossed over from best bud to collaborator – but he's not complaining. Who better to create with than someone who's supported him from jump? Something about her vagabond nature made her latch on.  Over the years he’s learned about her foster upbringing. How it'd hardened her in some ways, softened her in others. She doesn’t talk about her birth folks much like Mookie doesn't mention his family. Yet the whole of her has always seemed so transcendent. Mookie's trauma is written on his face when he's not on stage, and he's sure his friendship with her is predicated on her being the only one who can handle it. Maybe that's phrenology, that messy old way of thinking things are so set in bones. Maybe emotions are a bit malleable, like cartilage. Maybe Dodie just sees a person; a being made of ever-moving parts.

[The stage is MOOKIE’S SKULL. It’s newly renovated but it’s still not all that pretty. DODIE is strangely at home here.]

[yourbelgianthings]

let ‘em know, kid

a short merle and angus fic :-)

On a cool, crisp fall afternoon at Lucas Miller’s Academy of the Arcane Sciences, Angus McDonald found his attention drifting from the lecture on planar cosmology to the red and orange leaves swirling down off the trees outside. He loved school and never usually had trouble paying attention, but he had some big things on his mind today that class wasn’t going to address. When the bell finally rang, Angus jumped up from his desk and ran to the courtyard to await Merle’s arrival. Tres Horny Boys, who all considered Angus to be their nephew, took turns visiting him on Fridays, and as a group on the rarer occasion that their schedules all lined up. Merle grinned and waved as he strolled through the arch, seeing the familiar young boy with round glasses sitting on a bench and kicking his feet that didn’t reach the ground.

“Hey there, Ango!”, he called.

“Hi, Uncle Merle! Aren’t you cold?” Angus had noticed the obvious: Merle was sporting his typical outfit of a Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and Birkenstocks. He hopped off the bench and the two hugged.

“You’re right, I’m freezing! Consider yourself lucky I leave the beach at all, let alone to come here and see you,” Merle teased. Angus took his hand and ran back into the lobby. When they had gotten settled at a table in the cafeteria with hot drinks (a hot chocolate for Angus and an earl gray tea for Merle), Merle pulled a small box wrapped in colorful paper from his pocket and set it on the table between them.

“Mavis and Mookie made this for you, I actually don’t know what it is either.” His small hands excitedly ripped the paper off and opened the box to reveal a small spiral shell that had been threaded on some string to make a bracelet.

“Wow, look! It’s a shell bracelet, will you tie it on for me?” Angus asked excitedly. Merle obliged, and he thought back fondly on the gifts he had made for his crewmates on the beach so many years ago (that had been much uglier and received with far less enthusiasm). Usually, Angus McDonald was very talkative, it didn’t matter what topic he was presented with, but today, after opening his present, he slipped into an uncharacteristic silence, staring off into the distance and fidgeting with his new bracelet. As someone highly skilled at reading people, Merle noticed this change right away.

“Hey, Angus? What’s up, bud?” He gently waved his hand in front of Angus’s unfocused eyes.

“Uncle Merle, can I ask you something?” His high voice trembled slightly and his hands tightened around his mug of hot chocolate. “What happens when you die?”

Merle frowned deeply. “Ugh, what is that Lucas up to this time? Listen, Ango, if his weird mad science stuff is getting out of hand again and affecting you, we can transfer you to Taako’s school right away.”

“No, no!” Angus interjected. “Professor Miller is great! I’ve just been thinking about Johann...”

“Oh, of course, I see. Can we go to your dorm?” Angus nodded and got up, quietly leading the way across campus. When they arrived in his dorm, he hopped up on his bed and grabbed a large purple teddy bear wearing a silver wizard hat. There was no point bringing it up at the moment, but Merle knew right away it was from Taako. The Tres Horny Boys had an unofficial gift giving competition for Angus between themselves, and Taako always got really into it. Merle climbed onto the bed next to Angus and put his arm around him.

“Did you know I’ve died 57 times before? That’s not how it usually works though, and Kravitz isn’t a big fan of situations like that,” he explained.

Angus seemed unfazed. “There’s an exception for every rule,” he said in a low voice.

“I guess you’re right. Normally, when you die, you go kick it in the astral plane, but like you said, that might not always be the case. I get the feeling though, you wouldn’t have asked me if you were looking for a scientific answer, huh?”

The little boy’s serious eyes welled with tears, and in his confusion and grief, he somehow seemed both younger and older than his eight years. Angus buried his face in Merle’s shoulder and cried,

“I just miss Johann!” Merle rubbed his back and soothed him until he emerged again, rubbing his eyes. “We actually spent a lot of time together. Johann told me I was a good listener, and he felt less lonely having someone else around. He was a good person, I hope he’s happy since he got to see us win the battle.”

His words took Merle by surprise, their pure sincerity and kindness touched his heart. “I know he is, kiddo,” he reassured Angus. “It’s really hard to lose someone like that, but you’ll both remember each other and your time together, so in a way, the

memories help keep them alive, right? It’s the opposite of the voidfish, which Johann never wanted to be lost to.”

Angus nodded again, smiling now. “Yeah, everyone from the Bureau can help remember!”

“You’re a good kid, Angus, your Uncle Merle is proud of you.” They hugged again, and then Angus got out a board game, an infamously complicated one he liked to play because he always won (only Lucretia had ever beaten him). Merle groaned and protested, but Angus’s general adorableness won him over as usual. Fortunately, they only had time for one game before Merle had to get back to Bottlenose Cove for dinner with his family.

[flowers-and-pollen]

הַיָּם רָאָה וַיָּנֹס הַיַּרְדֵּן יִסֹּב לְאָחוֹר

כולם מדברים על שלום

אף אחד לא מדבר על צדק

לאחד זה גן עדן לאחר גיהינום

כמה אצבעות על ההדק?

עד מתי יהום הסער? עד מתי אדם בן כלב?

מחליקות הפנים על התער, מלטפות אצבעות את החרב.

לפעמים החיים מורידים אותי על הברכיים

אין שומר את השער, אין סימן משמיים.

אני רואה אנשים שחיים חלומות ותקוות

אנשים שחיים רק תככים ומזימות.

יש ששואלים שאלות ואין תשובות

יש כאלה מלאים רק טענות ודרישות, אבל...

כולם מדברים על שלום

אף אחד לא מדבר על צדק

לאחד זה גן עדן לאחר גיהינום

כמה אצבעות על ההדק?

אז נשארים לבד, מדברים אל הקיר, אין עם מי לדבר

אם רק נבין שכולנו אחד, נראה הכל מתחבר

כשיישרף רכושך, תישרף נשמתך

אם לא תמהר להציל את עצמך

רצחנו אדמה ורצחנו נשמה

כמעט ולא נשאר לנו אויר לנשימה

והעולם בתנועה מתמדת -

עושה סיבוב וחוזר לאותה נקודה

מה שעולה, חייב לרדת

איך לוקחים את הכל במידה?

כולם מדברים על שלום

אף אחד לא מדבר על צדק

לאחד זה גן עדן לאחר גיהינום

כמה אצבעות על ההדק?

ויש אנשים שלוקחים בעלות על אלוהים

ויש נאבקים, בועטים ושורטים

כמה מאיתנו באמת מקשיבים?

כולם מדברים על שלום.

כולם מדברים על שלום

אף אחד לא מדבר על צדק

לאחד זה גן עדן לאחר גיהינום

כמה אצבעות על ההדק?

לכולם יש אותו החלום

על פני הר, על פני עמק

ממשיכים לדבר, מדברים על שלום

אבל לא ייכון שלום בלי צדק

- מוקי • מדברים על שלום

_________________________________________

The sea saw and fled the Jordan will turn back

Everyone talks about peace

No one talks about justice

For one it's heaven, for the other it's hell

How many fingers on the trigger?

Until when will the storm rage on? Until when will a man act like a dog?

The face glides over the razor, fingers caress the sword

Sometimes life brings me down to my knees

There is no guard at the gate, there is no sign from the skies

I see people living dreams and hopes,

And people living quarrels and conspiracies

There are some asking questions and there are no answers

There are those who are just full of complaints and demands but...

Everyone talks about peace

No one talks about justice

For one it's heaven, for the other it's hell

How many fingers on the trigger?

So we stay alone, talking to the wall, there's nobody to talk to

If only we can understand that we're all one, we'll see that everything will connect

When your property burns, your soul burns, too

If you don't rush to save yourself.

We murdered the earth and we murdered the soul

There will be almost no air left to breathe anymore

And the world moves non-stop

Turning around and coming back to the same spot

What rises has to fall

How can you accept it all?

There are people claiming the title of God

There are those struggling, kicking and scratching

How many of us are actually listening?

Everyone talks about peace.

Everyone talks about peace

No one talks about justice

For one it's heaven, for the other it's hell

How many fingers on the trigger?

Everyone has the same dream

Across mountain, across valley

They keep talking, talking about peace

But there will be no peace without justice

-Mooki • talking about peace

_________________________________________

This song feels relevant again, it was written during the second intifada about how the real world isn't happening in the politics, it's happening between the people.

I see so many people talking about peace but none of them are talking about justice

Give it a listen

[daily-nightmare-sans]

Hola nootmare-

I-

I'm pretty sure that this has been in my ask box for over a year I'm so sorry.

This blog was never meant to be an ask blog but honestly fuck it, say hi Nightmare.

[jinmukangwrites]

weep little lion man (5/14)

First - Previous - Next

Fandom: Jedi: Fallen Order / Survivor Rating: T Warnings: N/A Ao3 Notes: fuck it, I'm 3 chapters behind uploading onto Tumblr, so I'm going to do this in the most inefficient way and upload them all today. If y'all are liking the series, please consider reblogging, those are always very helpful<3

Summary: After defeating Dagan Gera for a third and final time, the Compass ends up in Bode's hands without a scratch. He could go back to Jedha with Cal... but he's holding what he wants. He doesn't see the point in pretending any longer. He makes a split-second decision. Or: Bode's betrayal goes a bit differently.

~°~

The room is sparse, but surprisingly furnished.

Bode supposes that when you make a temple on an inaccessible planet, you gotta have rooms to stay.

For a heartbeat, he amuses himself by imagining the Jedi who used to sleep here, if there were any at all. There's an elaborate, golden bed-frame pushed into the far corner, threadbare blankets piled on top of a worse for wear mattress. Nothing that looks particularly well used, if the user was someone breathing and not time itself. Next to the bed-frame is a single wardrobe, the wood ashen and carved with intricate designs. Opening the wardrobe reveals dust and abandon, the hinges creak with disuse, but luckily, nothing seems rotted.

Kata walks over to the final piece of furniture in the room, a small gray-stone bench that looks more like a footstool than something to sit on. She opens her bag and starts digging through her stuff for more comfortable clothes while he busies himself with removing the two-hundred year-old bedsheets before inspecting the mattress for anything distasteful; bugs, stains, the such. He takes a knife and cuts into the mattress from the side to check the inside, and once he's satisfied that there's nothing particularly unsafe to sleep on, he sits down and digs through his own duffle for a needle and thread.

Eventually, Kata makes her way to sit on the floor next to him, her little body near immediately leaning against his; her head barely reaches his shoulders, her elbows poke into his side.

"Hey, papa?" She asks after a solid minute or so of watching him work. He hums in response, threading the needle through another stitch and frowning when he makes the ladder too far from the bar before. "What's important to you?"

He doesn't pause in his task, but he does glance down at her for a second, trying to see her intentions by asking such an out-of-the-blue question. "You, Kata."

Her nose wrinkles. She pulls away from his side and looks at him, eyebrows lowered and lips tilted. Her hands tug at the hairs of her doll, never hard enough to pull out the threads. "Kay, but what else? You're important to me, but so is being happy! My Mookie doll is important, and sleep is important, and eating big breakfasts is important. I can't be the only thing."

He chuckles, leaving the needle halfway stitched into the mattress for a moment so he can lean over and ruffle her dark hair. She squeaks, but her big brown eyes look up at him with an expected answer.

He thinks for a moment, smiling softly at this moment he's having. The moments he will continue to have, now that she's here with him and they're never going back to the cold galaxy ruled by the Empire.

"Let's see," he says, tapping his chin, "besides you? Safety, for one. A warm place to sleep. Food to provide. The most important thing in all the worlds, to me, is that I get to see your smile every day for the rest of my life." He drags her closer and she giggles slightly when he hugs her close, burying his nose into her hair. "There's many important things to me, baby girl, but it always comes back to you, and being your father."

She presses her arms against his chest, pushing herself away so she can halfheartedly glare at him for squeezing her. She fixes her hair, and he makes a point to ruffle it again. Smacking his hand away, she begins to comb her fingers through her hair while adopting a thoughtful look.

"What about Cal?"

The question startles him, though he does his best to not react visually to it. He chews on the inside of his cheek for a moment before smiling at her. "Yeah, he's important to me too."

She nods, setting her hands near her knees once her hair is fixed. "What does he find important?"

He resists sighing. She's too good at this, wise beyond her years.

He thinks about Cal, just for a moment. He's known Cal for what feels like lifetimes, but is realistically just over a month if he really stopped to count the days. He's never felt like he could open up to someone so quickly, let alone that someone could open up to him just as eagerly so soon. It is... was... his job to get on target's good sides and get them to open up to him, but Cal...

Cal's different.

It felt genuine. Honest. It felt like he liked Bode not because of the part Bode played to get on his good side, but because he liked Bode himself. And Bode liked Cal. He cared for Cal... so much.

Cares for Cal.

"Cal..." Bode starts slowly, "he thinks being a hero is important, and his friends, and fighting the good fight, never backing down from what he thinks is right. He always puts others before himself, and he never puts anything less than one-hundred percent into anything he does."

Kata nods. "He sounds like a very good guy."

Bode smiles. "He's the best."

Before long, he stitches the mattress up the rest of the way, then lays some of the blankets he'd packed down onto the mattress. There's a brief stab of guilt when he realizes he never gave Cal any blankets before they angrily parted ways. He hopes Cal doesn't freeze tonight, the weather isn't too cold but it hasn't passed the darkest hour yet. He doesn't linger on those thoughts long, Cal needs time to cool off and so does he. If he starts thinking about Cal and all the things he's guilty about now, he'll stay up all night thinking about the lies he's told despite promising Cal that on this planet, he only had the truth to tell.

Kata crawls in first, laying closer to the wall, and Bode squeezes in next to her. He lays facing her, and opens his arms for her to snuggle in. He holds her there, his lips brushing the top of her head, her body protected in his arms, his back to the world.

-o-o-o-o-

The crossguard stance is the heaviest of any stance Cal's ever learned through his years of lightsaber combat.

Every swing he takes feels like he's swinging a hammer, plummeting it downward and letting gravity do the dirty work. Using it in short scuffles where high damage is necessary is preferable to using it for long periods of time; if he's planning on going out and fighting for awhile, the default single blade would be the best option. Light, quick, easy to use.

But that's the most boring stance too.

His muscles burn and sweat drips down his back. He can feel his pulse pounding against the hilt of his lightsaber, fingers clenching so hard he knows they'll be stiff. His breath comes in deep pants, and it takes a fraction of effort to focus his breaths in his nose, out his mouth, through his diaphragm and stomach.

His shoulders sting when he brings the heavy blade up again, completing a series of positions when he stabs forward and holds just long enough for his triceps to tremble.

He probably shouldn't be pushing himself like this; his body already ached before he decided to pull out the heaviest setting on his lightsaber and train with it. But it felt good to have his limbs ache so badly from weight and movement instead of restraint and stillness.

He's restless. He's always been restless. His body has been made for moving. Sitting still for too long feels deeply wrong and uncomfortable. If he's not swinging his lightsaber, he's scaling a cliff. If he's not going for a jog, he's pacing the Mantis. If he's not out fighting stormtroopers, he's tinkering at a workbench.

He needs to move. He needs to feel his muscles burning from use. After being so still for so long, moving like this feels like coming alive again.

There's a cool breeze that comes with Tanalorrian night. Trees rustle somewhere distant with every wave; the bushes dancing to some harmony only they understand. He's gone quite the walk from the temple, only stopping when it got too dark to proceed further. Now, only his blade lights the area around him, the abyss above doing minimal work to light the planet it surrounds.

He begins another series of training positions, forcing his mind to shut-up and let his body do all the living.

He doesn't know how much longer he continues like this. In fact, he doesn't even know how long he's been going to begin with. All that he knows is that eventually his stomach gurgles for food and suddenly, he can't lift his lightsaber from the stone below him; he turns his blade off before he can start any wildfires, stumbling almost blindly over to to a nearby cliff-face and collapsing against it.

His heart pounds and his chest feels tight; knees groaning as he lowers himself to his ass and leans against the cold stone. He doesn't have anything to wipe off the sweat, so uses the back of his hand to at least deter anything from dripping into his eyes.

The breeze blows again, and he shivers, but it's nothing he thinks he needs to retreat from. He's been tired to the bone before. He's been freezing to blue fingers before. The nights here are no colder than Jedha's nights.

Eventually, his eyes slip close. There's nothing to see anyways, but closing them still feels like a final act of surrender to his human body.

He's going to be sore tomorrow. Unbelievably sore. Sore enough to regret tonight. But it helped, just for a few hours, to turn off his mind. That's worth it for now. He needed this. He needed these hours to not think about Bode, or the threats, or the humiliation.

With a final brush of chilling wind, exhaustion claims him, sinking its claws into his ribcage and dragging him down into a restless, but blessedly dreamless, sleep.

[starjane312]

Kit Tanthalos x OC

Big Masterlist

Masterlist

Chapter 21

He turns around. I see Kit.

K: Jane.

J: Kit. 

I quickly walk to her and pull her into my Arms.

J: Are you ok ?

She nods in my shoulder. She looks at me and gives me a Kiss. I look and see Boorman fighting another guy.

J: Who’s that ?

K: Allagash. An Old friend of my Father.

W: Where is the wand ?

E: Look I may or may not have, well, kind of , like ,dropped it.

W: What.

Ja: She only dropped because she was saving …

W: Shhh

He points his finger at Jade.

W: And the staff ? What, you drop that too ?

E: No graydon has that.

W: And where’s Graydon ?

E: Supervising a spill on Triton level Probably.

J: And very Happy he’s still alive.

I look at Kit.

J: Nearly got himself killed.

K: Again ?

I nod

W: You are in serious trouble, young lady.

E: Yeah, I know.

Allagash and Boorman are still fighting.

B: Not the Hair.

E: I Kinda missed you.

A: Who cares about your Hair ?

W: Yeah ?

E: Yeah.

W: Missed you too … in a way.

B: Stop it ! Stop it ! You puckered old bergencoif !

A: You spineless little zudcudder.

W: Come on guys. Language.

A: Sorry.

B: Sorry.

A: Sorry Ladies.

I raise my eyebrows.

B: I’d prayed you’d still be alive so I would have the pleasure of killing you myself.

A: I’m right here. Buffets open. Beanpole. Grab a Tray.

Kit walks to them and since I’m not letting her go she pulls me with her.

B: Beanpole ? Yeah well I’v actually put on quite a lotta bulk.

A: You know what, you have. You’ve gotten bigger, you look good.

B: Well, thanks. It’s Diet mainly actually a little bit of Torture endurance …

Allagsh tries to attack him. Boorman pushes him away, grabs his Sword and crosses it with Kit who's holding a Hammer with spikes. I hold my Dagger under his Chin.

J: Step away from my Wife.

He lowers his sword. Then he looks at Kit.

B: Whatever he told you,it’s a lie

K: You stole the Lux arcana.

B: Back from him. He got Blaylock and Mookie killed. He betrayed us, he … He betrayed Madmartigan.

A: Oh come on this guy will say anything. That was you huh ? That was him.

He steps a little bit too close to Kit. I give him a sharp look and he steps a step away from her.

A: You think I’ve been down here for ten years ‘cause I like it balmy, huh ? 

K: You were his squire and you left him to die.

B: I know.

Kit lowers her weapon. I grab her hand.

B: I would’ve stayed with him till the end. I should’ve. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

E: I think there is someone coming.

W: Trolls.

A: This is were they caught me last time. They must#ve known I ‘d come back here. They’re so smart. Damn it.

Ja: What’s the quickest way out of here ? 

Allagash walks to a wall.

K: The doorway.

A: Yeah.

He grabs into a wall and pulls out an Arm.

A: Put your arm in here.

He points at Kit.

J: Definitely not. 

I go to him and push my arm into the Hole.

J: And now ?

A: Pull the lever.

J: If I lose my arm I will kill you.

A: Understood. But you will not.

I take a breath and pull on it. Something rattles.

A: Good, stay put.

He starts running.

A: Herewe go, solving elaborate booby traps. 

He sticks his hand in another one. Something sounds like it’s opening. But nothing appears.

Ja: Yeah I don’t see a secret door.

A: That’s because you don’t know how to look.

We follow him. It’s a Giant stone head.

J: What the hell ?

B: Ah big head. Great, where's the treasure ?

Some weird music starts playing.

Wiggleheim: Through the Ages and remember I have tested those who entered. Seeking fortune, fame and Glory. Hoping those might change their story. But the greatest Treasure I ever found was the Love and laughter all around.

A: Ah, what a lovely sentiment, huh ?

Wiggleheim: Though should Riches be your heart's desire, the answers I shall now Require. And If by chance you don’t reply in my tomb you all shall die. 

E: Wait hang on did he just say we all would ie.

B: He did.

The secret Door closes.

J: Wait what ?!

Wiggleheim: So I pass for sire to heir and each of brothers takes his share. A gift or curse I may be, used by others more than thee.

A: Anybody ?

W: It’s a riddle, I’m good at these.

A: Good, you got the answer ?

W: Wait, wait, wait.

Ja: A name.

A: What ?

Ja: That’s the answer.

A: We’re going with “A name ?”

Wiggleheim: Congratulations. 

A: We’re in. We did it !

Wiggleheim: If Once more you do succeed, my vault of treasures is yours indeed.

A: Oh.

Wiggleheim: Where whatever by your hearts appeal, awaits you beyond it’s seal.

I look at Kit.

J: Didn’t know you were in there.

She pushes her elbow in my ribs.

J: Sorry.

A: Come on, Come on. Team Allagash. We got this. all right Wiggleheim, give us your best shot.

Wiggleheim: Beggars have what wise men crave. But both shall take it to their grave.

Noone has a clue. 

Wiggleheim: Seems perhaps you need more Time, Or if you wish, I’ll repeat my Rhyme.

We are stuck here. And he continues repeating the same words over and over again. It feels like we’ve been here for hours.

J: This leads us to nothing, we're all going to die. Great. Just what I want. You know. Growing up, meeting the love of my life, marrying her and then dying with her locked in a cave, not even a day after. Fairytale ending.

Ja: Can you stop being sarcastic ?

J: In a situation like this ? No.

She gals at me.

E: Wait, say that again.

I look at her.

J: No ?

E: The first thing you said. 

J: This all leads to nothing ?

E: That’s it. The answer is Nothing.

The doors open again. Boorman and Allagash run in. They search everything. Allagash finds it in the end and runs out with it. Kit walks inside the vault. Everything starts to Rumble. 

J: My Love ?

I walk to her.

[thorntonkrell-blog-blog]

Down three games to none in the World Series and already trailing 2 zip based on yet another Freddie Feeman four bagger, Gleyber Torres led off the Yankee first and hit a lazy foul ball down the right field line. Mookie Betts the Dodger's rightfielder headed for the stands. Ho Hum. Another out...26 more to go and even though it was early it was still late.

He leaped for the ball and interefered with Yankee fan Austin Copobianco's enjoyment of the game, thrusting his glove in Austin's face in an effort to snag the ball and continue the ass kicking humiliation that the one time Bums were putting on the one time Bombers.

Copobianco and Yankee fans throughout the world had seen enough thank you. He and we have been waiting around for too long to put up with all this shit. Austin grabbed Mookie's glove as if he were trying to remove it from the fielder's hand but no…he was simply trying to yank the ball out of the glove and say 'no mas'. His inner Harry Beal was mad as hell and he wasn't gonna take it anymore

Austin's brother helped to balance Mookie as he hung suspended. The ball squirted out of the grasp of Austin/Mookie and bounced onto the playing field. The umpire ruled fan interference and Torres was retired but thanks to Austin, Gleyber didn't go down easy.

Copobianco was a season ticket holder and he'd been waiting in his seat all of his life for just such a moment. The fan had shown more fight than the entire Yankee team at this point in the Fall Classic.

Maybe he stirred up some echoes.

The previously overwhelmed backstop young Austin Wells also gathered the gall to ghost Yogi and go deep out of nowhere.

Later in the game that same Gleyber homered down that same right field line but by then the Yankees were in control of the ballgame after Anthony Volpe as the ghost of Derek Jeter matched Freeman for total grand slams hit in this World Series with one apiece.

The Yankees poured it on late in the game, scoring one run in the sixth inning off arsonist Knack and five more off mop-up man Brent Honeywell in the eighth, (who needed an exhausting 50 pitches to end the stanza) breaking Game 4 open with New York’s biggest offensive outburst of the series by far

Even the beleagured Aaron Judge woke up and smashed a double just for shits and giggles.

Copobianco wasn't around to see the fireworks. Security had removed him from the premises.

He gone but he not forgotten.

Will he back in the right field stands again tonight?

Just another interesting question to be answered in Game 5 in Gotham where it ain't over until it's over.