#whoof big drama

[steorn]

someone going to vidcon should compliment Dream's new cryaotic cosplay

[mrcrowblargs]

Finished Astarion's personal quest and whoof. I need to lie down. It was so good. I wanna give him such a big hug. But I suppose asking for a kiss works.

Spoilers under the cut, but I will leave a protip: if you bring the Daylight spell into the big boss fight, DO NOT cast it as a sphere! Cast it on a weapon and stow the weapon after the fight. It'll save you some trouble.

So I definitely overprepared going into the Szarr Palace. I already had respecced Gale as a Knowledge Cleric and Shadowheart as a War Cleric so I brought them both along because of course you're going to encounter undead vampires in a fucking vampire den. I think entering the palace was supposed to feel a little too easy since Cazador wanted Astarion there anyway. But they wrecked everything.

Astarion, you are a fucking rogue... why are you running in for an unarmed attack... AND GETTING CAPTURED I was not happy about losing him for the first round but luckily getting Aylin out of drama meant I knew exactly what to do for Astarion.

The fight didn't go too badly, I cast Daylight smack in the middle of the area because I didn't want to fry the suspended spawn. But then the cutscenes after felt... abrupt and lacking. And I didn't get Cazador's staff needed to free the prisoners. Looked it up online and turned out having Daylight present makes the spawn flee as soon as they are freed oops. So I had to redo the fight.

And honestly, I was glad I redid it. It was a little more chaotic but the double cleric team worked GREAT. Turns out the spawn aren't affected by daylight while suspended so I was able to cover more of the field instead of giving Cazador corners to hide in. 2x Spirit Guardians to clear out the GODDAMN BATS. 2x Spiritual Weapon to camp on the ritual spots and deny Cazador his boons. Honestly having two clerics is just great. Casting the Heroic Feast or whatever beforehand was also a great move.

And best of all? Astarion got the finishing blow on Cazador with an absolutely epic sneak attack.

Admittedly struggled with dialogue options because the previous issue meant reloading and fucking around a lot and uh, accidentally letting Astarion ascend oops, but after doing things the right way I hit the sweet spot for dialogue and got him to stand down the ritual of his own accord instead of like "stop him" or "I won't help."

All of Astarion's acting is phenomenal??? like??? his VOICE his EXPRESSIONS just god there's so much here. really felt this howl.

Chose to free the spawn. 7000 predators suddenly released into the Underdark is sure to cause some ecological issues BUT it was so good seeing Astarion stand up for them and give them the chance to be saved and free. The chance he should have had long ago. Break that cycle, babey.

Oh man that whole post I made connecting the mirror scene to the entire person Astarion was being just gone, forgotten was so on the nose. AND FEY YOU WERE RIGHT He's gonna make himself his own person. Free. Even if that means living in the shadows... Aldrich will always be with him. And their githyanki child because I still have that egg hanging in my inventory and I don't think it's safe with any of the quest parties involved. Just gotta uh. beat the game and hope I can have that epilogue. I'm still nervous about having undergone partial ceremorphosis but uhhhhh maybe Astarion won't mind tentacles?

Astarion finally answers, "You're not a victim, not a target, so then... what are you?" I have another act 2 comic script sitting aside that touched on this and I kinda really wanna do it now haha. It's satisfying when things you speculate about a character fall into place.

but also, maybe a sillier doodle comic, of an earlier moment (after the spawn ambush you at night) when you can tell Astarion "if you open up and care about others, they will care about you" and he's like "no one cares, not like you do" and then like 10ft away is Karlach who is like I LOVE MY BITEY FRIEND I'LL TEAR DOWN THE WHOLE PALACE IF THEY TAKE HIM!!! And her reaction after just enforcing that. All the party gossip of being proud of Astarion was so nice.

Next I gotta rescue Lae'zel from Orin and hope that she's still alive because uuhhh it's been a few long rests oops. She's got all the anti-shapeshifter gear from Emperor's old pad it's cool it's fine she's probably already turned orin to mincemeat.

I intended to play all day today but i think I'm gonna leave off here. Digest. Bask in that I rehabilitated and socialised the feral kitten I plucked out of the gutter so long ago.

[sorryjustafangirl]

defender

a/n: based on this gif which we all, very reasonably, reacted over. i couldn't not write something. i hope you all enjoy!

pairing: Mat Barzal x gn!reader

work count: 1.6k+

warnings: mentions of fighting and i think that's it

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and real person fiction if you don’t like that, please don’t read! also the gif isn’t mine! all credit to the wonderful gif-maker!

You had Anthony to thank for your newfound happiness. 

When he found out you worked in New York, he was eager to reconnect and catch up like the old friends you were. You’d told him about your new job, he talked about his position in the Islanders, and you both caught up on the family drama of your shared hometown. When the topic of relationships came up, Beau raved about his partner Amy and was quick to start scheming when you told him you hadn’t been on a date in a while. You protested, but he would not let it go until he had set you up on a date with his best friend. 

“Please, it’s my two best friends. You’ll be a perfect match,” He had said. 

And he was right. From the moment you sat down in that restaurant, it was instant chemistry. Mat had warned you of how intense it could be to be the partner of an NHL player, much less one of the stars of the team like himself. So, he suggested that you keep…whatever was starting between the two of you on the more private side of things. He didn’t want anything to jeopardize what was shaping up to be the best relationship he’d ever had. 

Since your relationship with Mat was fairly new, you opted to sit in the upper bowl with Amy watching your first Battle of New York. It wasn’t the first game of Mat’s you’d seen (but it was the fifth), and you thought you’d seen everything you’d ever see in a game. 

Boy, were you wrong. 

Within the first period alone, there had been more hits than you remember a hockey game having. Reaves had been hanging around your boyfriend the whole period, just mouthing off. You figured it was just typical trash talk, and thus nothing Mat and his big mouth couldn’t handle, but when you saw him yelling from the bench, you got a little bit more nervous. Throughout the rest of the second period, the two of them were rougher, a couple cross-checks that went unseen by the refs, more mouthing off. Tensions were high going into the third period, the game still scoreless. It wasn’t until Bailey scored that it turned to something more. 

The Islanders were deep in the Rangers zone and had been for more than a couple minutes, trying to cement their lead. Reaves had matched up next to Mat and as soon as the puck dropped, the gloves did too. 

They were circling each other, their hands circled tight in fists. From your seats you couldn’t see much, so you focused on the jumbotron. Reaves made the first move, grabbing him by the jersey and throwing a right hook. Mat went down on one knee but wrapped his arms around Reaves and hoisted himself back on his feet. He threw a few blind punches, one of them connecting with the helmet. They exchanged a few more punches with each other before Mat lost his footing and they both went down, the refs finally stepping to break them apart. They were both headed to the box, blood dripping from Mat’s face. You looked onto the ice and saw the faintest red marks where there shouldn’t be red, and you felt your stomach churn a little. 

“Whoof, well, I’m sure you two will have fun tonight,” Amy lightly laughed, trying to get your focus back from what had just happened on the ice. You nodded along to her words, thoughtlessly, as your eyes were trained on your boyfriend’s blood on the ice. It felt like no time had passed before the final buzzer rang, resulting in a 1-0 win for the Islanders. Amy led you down to the parking garage and made small talk with you, even though your responses were limited to one word answers with the amount of worry running through your mind. You’d never seen Mat so angry or intense in any of his games. 

Beau came out of the arena and into the underground parking, first greeting Amy before turning to you. You didn’t have to ask before he answered the only question that had been in your head since the fight. 

“He’s okay. He’ll be out in a while.” 

You let out a sigh of relief and swallowed the lump in your throat. “What…Do you know why he got so worked up tonight?” 

“I don’t think you want to know,” He said quietly. 

“Beau, please. I don’t know how to help him if…if I don’t know why he reacted like that.” 

He sighed. “All I heard was something about ‘manning up’. What Reaves said at the circle that really set him off, I don’t know. I didn’t hear that part.”

“Thank you. Have a good night you two,” you told them, once they saw Mat come out into the parking garage and they went to Anthony’s car. Once he got closer, you saw he had a cut above his eyebrow and his knuckles were split. You held your hand out and he took it in his, squeezing it a tad. You walked over to his car, silently getting into the passenger seat. The drive back to his place was quiet, only the sound of lo-fi beats playing in the background breaking it. 

When you got back to his place, you silently dragged him to the bathroom. You told him to sit on the toilet while you rummaged under his sink to find some first aid supplies. The antiseptic, the band-aids, the butterfly clips, the cotton gauze, everything you thought you might need was placed on the counter. 

You met Mat’s eyes through the mirror, and got a good look at the bruising forming around his eye. You took one of the gauze pieces and put the antiseptic on it, walking over to stand between his legs as you wiped away the dried blood. 

“What did he say that got you so worked up?” You asked, after he hissed one particular contact after his cut.

“Nothing.”

You took the wipe off his eyebrow, looking him in the eyes. “I don’t think it’s nothing if I’m bandaging you up.” 

“Fine, it was something. Just not something I want to repeat.”

“Tell me what he said.” Immediately, he was shaking his head and you pulled away from him, stopping your actions. You sighed. “Mat, I know that this,” you gestured between the two of your bodies. “is new, but you..can tell me stuff. We’re a team, I don't want you to have to hold this burden all on your own.”

He takes a few deep breaths as you continue to look at him. He looks down at his hands, his fingers rubbing over the now bruising skin. 

“At first it was just typical trash talk. Saying how like I wasn’t living up to the star they kept saying I am. But then he started to mention stuff about…” He took a deep breath, and you traced over his knuckles before intertwining your fingers with his. “Then he said stuff about you. How I only showed glimpses of you on Instagram. How I wouldn’t man up and actually commit to a relationship. Because if I did, if I showed you off, someone else would come and sweep you away. I shook it off because we were winning but then… he called you ‘my dirty little secret’. And I don’t know I just- I just snapped. He said that and I just saw red. It was like I couldn’t help it and my hands moved before my body.” 

You dropped his hand and felt tears start to well in your eyes a little bit because he just… he defended you. He defended this relationship. Without thought, it was his instinct to fight for you, to defend you and your relationship. Even though you’d only been seeing each other for a little while, he believed enough in what you two were, to defend you against someone who barely even knew him. 

He saw the tears well in your eyes and immediately leaned back, his heart dropping. He’d heard from Beau that you didn’t like fighting – something in your past – and he’d heard from his mom that the fighting he so rarely engaged in was scary. The last thing he ever wanted to do was scare you. 

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to make you scared of me,” He mumbled, but before he could elaborate on that, you had barrelled into him, your arms tight around him. You heard the gasp leave him, before his arms were wrapped around you just as tightly. 

“You defended me, Mat. Defended us. I-I could never be scared of you when you–you didn’t have to do that but you did. I— thank you.”

“Of course I was going to defend you.” He pulled back and ran a hand over the back of your head. “I couldn’t not do that, we’re a team, remember? I wasn’t going to let him get away with such bullshit. You’re… you’re way too important to me to let things like that slide.”

“You’re really important to me too. Typically, boyfriends are really important.”

He lifted his eyebrows and a smirk came across his face. “Boyfriend, eh?” 

“If you want to be,” you said, biting your lip.

“Oh hell yeah, I want to be,” he said, pulling you in for a kiss. “I’ll try to be the best boyfriend too.”

“You already are. No one else could sweep me away.” You brushed a stray hair out of his face. “You defended me against someone you didn’t have to, you comfort me when I need it, and you make me laugh all the time. You are enough and I want you, and no one else, to be my boyfriend.”

“How did I get so lucky?” His thumb brushed your cheek, and you smiled into him, pressing a kiss to the inside of his palm. 

“I think I’m the lucky one. Now, can I finish patching you up or am I just going to have this band aid in my hand forever?” 

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[qqueenofhades]

#71 kastle if it hasn’t been done already?? thank you queen 🙌🙌

71. "Would you just shut up, please?"

It's been a while since she's seen Frank -- it always is, usually -- and for once, Karen hasn't been thinking about him all that much. Not forgotten, because she never does that, but just pushing him back to the corner of her mind that keeps things deep and dark and quiet. She has a life of her own, after all, and she intends to get on with it. Besides, much as she likes Frank, his appearances do tend to come paired with a lot of violence, drama, chaos, and very bad people trying to gruesomely murder one or both of them, and there is only so much you can take at once. Maybe, she thinks every time. Maybe this is the time he'll disappear and never come back. Perhaps she should want that. Her existence would certainly be a lot more peaceful if he did.

(And yet. And yet.)

It's spring in New York City, trees greening and buds blooming and everyone still optimistic about the Mets' chances this year, and it's at least six months since Karen has seen him. Her life is never exactly quiet, but quieter, and she, Matt, and Foggy are plugging along with the law firm and Foggy's half-baked ideas about asking Marci to marry him and move to Queens. Matt is appropriately horrified ("Queens?!?") and doing that Matt thing where he tries to control everyone in his life for "their own good," and Karen's getting tired of their half-serious arguments. Foggy deserves some happiness and a respite from the Murdock Nonsense Machine. Matt, if he's honest, has to admit that too, and probably does. Still. It's always been them. The idea of breaking up the dream team can't fail to be frightening.

Karen gets home later than usual that evening, clutching another bag of takeout -- she hasn't had the time to cook or shop, and her apartment is mostly devoid of food. She's digging in her purse, looking for her keys, when the shadows move and a man in a hooded sweatshirt steps out of them. "Hey," he says roughly. "Hey, Karen."

She reacts by instinct -- after all, she's a single woman who lives alone in New York, and that's even before the misadventure she attracts on a regular basis. She yells, seizes his arm, and vaults him into a makeshift-but-not-ineffective judo throw, whereupon he hits the deck with a whoof and a very startled expression. "Shit!" he splutters. "Shit, Karen, what the hell? It's me! It's me!"

"Frank?" Karen glares down at him, as her brain catches up with her reflexes and assures her that yes, she does know that voice, and no, it could hardly be anyone else. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Course not." Frank rolls over and gets to his feet, still looking slightly miffed at such a rude welcome. (Considering the ones he's given her over the years, he does not have any right to complain.) "Just, you know." He shuffles his feet, almost shy. "Back in town. Thought I'd drop by and see how... see how things were."

Back in town, Karen thinks. Implying, of course, that he was out of it for God knows long doing God knows what, and wants to drop by her apartment for a shower, a proper dinner, and some downtime before running off to God knows where for God knows why. Frank Castle is nothing if not deeply, singularly frustrating, and yet, he's looking at her with big brown puppy eyes and she can't summon up the heart to shoo him off like a nuisance stray. "Fine," she says shortly. "Inside, before my neighbors see you."

Frank, who doubtless wishes to avoid a reunion with the NYPD at any cost, takes the hint and scuttles inside, and Karen closes the door behind him. Her hands are shaking, which seems stupid, and for a very long and very awkward moment, they just stare at each other. Finally she says, "Why are you here, Frank?"

"Like I said." He looks confused. "Check in."

"You think that's what I need? You to just turn up on my doorstep out of the blue, make sure nobody has murdered me yet, and then go on your way?" Karen's voice is sharper than she intended, but she's tired of this dance, and the way they keep doing it in circles, over and over. "Of course, if you have some new psychopath after you, that only increases the odds that they'll go after me too, but I guess that doesn't matter to you, does it?"

It's unfair -- she knows it matters to Frank, matters perhaps more than anything else in his world, and for all her accusations, she too is terrified to think about the meaning of that -- but she's fed up, she's had a long day and a long week and a long everything, and she is torn between smacking him and -- well, not smacking him. Why, why can't he just be normal and why can't they just be normal and why can't he just, for once, stay. That's all she wants from him, when it comes down to it. That. This. Them.

"Well," Frank starts at last, sheepishly. "Madani might have called and said that there was a situation she could use my help with, and -- "

"Would you just shut up?" Karen doesn't care about his excuses, and there's always going to be one, some other mission, some other damned-fool idealistic crusade. "Please? Fine. You're here. You saw me. I'm alive. If you wanted anything more than that -- "

His eyes sear through her. He opens his mouth, wets his lips as if to speak, and stops. Then he takes a step forward, and then another, and almost without their own volition, his hands come up, cupping her head. Karen is sorely tempted to push him away, or knee him in the balls, or throw him on his ass one more time, just because it feels like she still owes him about a hundred. But then his mouth is on hers, rough and gentle and wet and hungry and devouring all at once, and there's nothing else she can do but whimper, and clutch at him with both arms, and kiss him back like the world is ending.

Time slows, stops, turns into molasses and honey the same hue as the evening light, the lengthening sunset. Karen doesn't know how long they stay there, like that. But then at last they break apart, and she can't breathe and doesn't care, and Frank is looking both slightly shocked at his own nerve and oddly proud of himself. "So," he says, smile crooked. "Still want me to go, Karen?"

"You are -- " She stops to make a funny wheezing noise, like a stepped-on soccer ball. "You are the worst."

He shrugs, unrepentant. "Yeah," the Punisher says. "I know."

(Of course he stays for dinner.)

(Of course he stays the night.)

(And maybe one day, at last, he will finally stay forever.)

[fic prompts]

[tinyboxxtink]

"Betrayed" *Chapter 7*

Chapter 6

Chapter 8

Whoof, when I take a break, it just gives my mind to come up with a WHOLE lot of plots, probably too much plot. I went between two storylines AGAIN, but once again, they'll both end up in the same situation. The crescendo situation will just be more...specific, now? Try and figure that one out, kids.

I'm going into some unchartered territory here ladies and gents, but honestly, I think it makes for some good writing. If I get a little off handed though, please let me know.

With that little weird introduction, here we go!

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

@mrsrafaelbarba

@fandom-princess-forevermore

—-------------------

“So let me get this straight–” Tiffany cleared her throat. “You pine after this man for years, FINALLY get him to notice you, instantly bond with him, and then just what, left a metaphorical glass slipper for him to find you?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” You nodded nonchalantly while tracing the lid of your cup.

“I don’t understand it,” Tiff shook her head. “I mean, two days ago he didn’t even know you existed, and you had the confidence to just...leave him?”

“I didn’t just ‘leave him’,” You protested. “He knows my name, that’s enough to find out my entire life on the internet,”

“Through social media,” Tiff pointed out.

“Well, sure but–”

“And do you really think a…mature man like him,” She tried not to snicker while avoiding calling Rafael “old”.

“You really think he knows how to navigate social media?” Tiffany raised an eyebrow.

“I mean…” You looked down at the table. “Yeah, probably,”

“That didn’t sound too confident there, sis,” Tiff raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I’m sure there’s other ways Tiffany,” You tried telling the both of you that you hadn’t severely blown it with him already.

“Uh huh,” Tiff smirked. “And besides that, you’re about to be in a whole other world of pain when your little snarky comment gets out to the masses,”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Tiff,” You rolled your eyes as you sipped your coffee, starting to scroll through your DM’s and mentions. God, he probably didn’t even know how to make a Twitter.

“Dramatic?” She put a hand to her chest. “Me?”

“Shocking, I know,” You chuckled.

“But seriously, how long do you think before shit hits the fan?” She persisted.

“Tiffany it’s only been three days–”

“THREE DAYS?” She said rather loudly, causing patrons in the busy cafe to turn and stare at her for a moment before returning to their conversations.

“Three days?” She repeated in a softer tone. “How are you not freaking out?”

“Why would I be freaking out?” You looked at her curiously.

“Babe if he hasn’t found you by now, he either stopped looking or is more hopeless with technology than you counted on,” She shook her head.

“But–”

“And also, that must mean something is brewing, and it ain’t good,” She added smarmily.

“Oh my god,” You shook your head with a sigh. “Could you be any more–”

“Can we change the subject?” You tried steering away from your growing dread. “How’s work?”

“Oh actually, that’s why I asked you here,” She sipped her coffee.

“Seriously?” You half laughed. “Took you that long?”

“Well, I’m sorry your drama monopolizes most of our conversations,” She laughed, then continued to speak.

“So really it’s a funny story,” She started. “I actually got called into the principal’s office today,”

“Good god,” you shook your head. “For what?”

“Another teacher filed a complaint about me,” She said worryingly.

“What?!” You slammed your cup on the table. “Why?!”

“Well,” she crossed her arms. “You know how she watches the ‘big kids’ after school?”

“Kind of ironic calling them ‘big kids’ who still go to daycare,” You snickered.

“It’s an after-school program,” She said through gritted teeth. “And not the point,”

“Right,” You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Continue,”

“So apparently yesterday one of the boys in her class was getting relentlessly teased from some other boys in the class,”

“And that’s your fault how…?”

“Well, apparently,” She cleared her throat. “The boy was being harassed by the other boys because said boy’s parents were talking about how mean and bad the other boy’s mommy was,”

“Shit,” You muttered. You knew where this was going.

“And now, just where do you think those parents heard how ‘mean’ the mommy was?”

“.... I don’t know…” You sipped your latte uncomfortably.

“Maybe from another ‘mean lady’ on TV?” Tiff suggested.

“I am not mean–!” You tried defending yourself.

“Well, you wanna guess what that boy’s name was?” She asked defiantly.

“No…” You said even quieter.

“Right,” She shook her head.

“I still don’t know why that involves you–”

“Because everyone knows I’m best friends with the mean lady!”

“You’re not friends with Olivia–” You tried to joke.

“YOU KNOW I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU!” Tiffany practically screamed, annoyed you weren’t taking this seriously.

“Okay okay!” You put your hands up in surrender. “So, what happened?”

“Well,” She cleared her throat. “I had to promise that you’d come and apologize to Noah, and tell the class you were wrong,”

“WHAT?!” You almost spilled the rest of your coffee. “You want me to go and apologize to a kid I’ve never met?”

“A kid you almost got beat up by your stupid mouth!” She declared.

“Oh please,” You scoffed. “That private school is full of purebred little boys, I bet they can’t even hit,”

“Not the point!” She exclaimed.

“Ugh,” You sighed. “I wish I could talk to Rafael about it,”

“Yeah, well whose fault is that, Cinderella?!” She pointed out. “You’re just hitting home runs left and right with that mouth, aren’t you?”

“Alright, alright,” You sighed. “I suck, I know,”

“Well, luckily you can fix one of those things right now,” She smirked.

“What?” You scrunch your nose. “How?”

“...Because Rafael Barba has been sitting in the corner staring at us since we came in,” She stuck her tongue out with a smile.

“WHAT?!” You started whipping your head in all directions.

“Don’t look!” She hissed. “You’ll scare him away!”

“Scare him away?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Well, at least you’ll prove he was made, and he’ll be embarrassed, possibly run out of here and never contact you again–”

“How long since you noticed him?” You gave her a look.

“I don’t know, maybe a few minutes…” She replied innocently.

“Uh huh,” You rolled your eyes. “So, the whole ‘what if he can’t find you’ thing was–”

“Well, I had to make you realize how stupid of a move that was,” She defended herself.

“Was it? Because I think he just proved it wasn’t,” you smiled triumphantly.

“Fine,” Tiff rolled her eyes as she noticed a wicked smile crawling across your lips.

“...What now?”

“I’ll be right back,” You excused yourself quickly before she could ask any more questions.

You stood up and walked to the register, making extra sure not to even glance in Rafael’s direction as you placed an order. Then you paid, smiled sweetly and returned to Tiffany with an even bigger Cheshire smile.

“.... What was that?” Tiff curled an eyebrow accusingly.

“Wait for it,” You practically cackled in an evil laugh.

After a few moments, a barista from the other end of the counter held up a cup.

“I’ve got a–” He glanced at the name, made a weird face, but continued: “A tall drip for ‘Gas Station Coffee’?”

The cafe was full of people buzzing and chattering about, but you heard a very distinct spit take of coffee come from behind you.

Both you and Tiffany just stared at each other while trying not to break into a fit of giggles as you heard Rafael get up and walk over to the counter to retrieve his free beverage.

“...It’s an inside joke,” He explained to the barista who had just called out his ‘code name’.

“Dude, I’ve heard weirder,” The barista just laughed and walked away.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you heard the click of his dress shoes getting closer to your table.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” His voice came out in an annoyed yet amused tone as you turned to face him. There he was, dressed in a HARVARD hoodie and jeans, holding your ‘gift’ with an equally annoyed but amused face.

“And you’re not as stealthy as you think you are, counselor,” You smirked.

“I wouldn’t call him ‘counselor’ in that,” Tiffany chimed in, addressing his ‘street clothes’.

“Oh?” Rafael pulled up a chair and sat down. “And what would you call me?”

“Mmm maybe ‘Sexy Sweatshirt Stalker,’” She giggled, making Rafael squirm uncomfortably and your eyes flash red.

“EXCUSE me?” You said much louder than you had intended to, causing Rafael’s awkward grimace to turn into a small, pleased smile.

“Down, Tiger,” Tiffany giggled louder. “I’m sorry, nobody’s moving in on your man,”

“He’s not my–”

“I’m not her–”

You both denied attachment simultaneously, causing you both to just stop talking altogether while blushing and looking away from each other.

“Oh sorry, you haven’t had ‘the talk’ yet,” Tiff snickered.

“Tiffany!!!” You growled through gritted teeth.

“It’s just as well,” Tiffany shrugged, ignoring your tone. “He might’ve broken up with you anyway when he finds out you almost got his little buddy beaten up,”

“TIFFANY!!!” You gasped in horror.

“...What are we talking about now?” Rafael looked between the two of you in curiosity.

“Nothing,” You nervously giggled as you tried to stay calm. “She’s just–”

“Noah Benson?” She asked calmly, still ignoring you. “I assume he’s your little ‘Chiquito’ or something—”

“Alright first of all, incredibly racist Miss…Tiffany,” Rafael ruffed. “Second of all, what happened to Noah?” He looked at you with an accusatory tone.

“NOTHING happened to him,” You assured him.

“...Yet,” Tiffany added under her breath; both you and Rafael shot daggers at her.

“What?” She looked at the two of you but addressed Rafael. “I’m just trying to guilt her enough to do what she needs to do,”

“Oh, come on–” You groaned.

“What happened, Y/N?” Rafael asked you straight.

“Okay so…” You started your story, trying to frame it the best way possible. “Tiffany works for this charter daycare–”

“Montessori,” Tiffany clarified.

“Right,” You rolled your eyes. “Anyway um–” You looked down at your hands as you wring them nervously in your lap.

“Apparently one of the other teachers filed a complaint against Tiffany because some kids were picking on Olivia’s kid,”

“Noah,” Rafael huffed, looking very concerned. “His name is Noah,”

“Right,” You sheepishly replied. “Anyway, it’s not like they hurt him–”

“That’s not the point!” Rafael raised his voice slightly louder than intended, causing both you and Tiffany to flinch.

“Rafael I’m sorry,” You tried to apologize in the tiniest of voices. “I didn’t think it would–”

“Why exactly were they ‘picking’ on him?” He asked you, already knowing the answer.

“Oh, come on,” You gave him a pleading look. “You’re not going to make me explain it, are you?”

“Oh, I want to hear it from your mouth, yes,” He crossed his arms. “I want to know that you know exactly why it happened,”

“Jesus,” Tiffany muttered under breath. “Alright dad,”

Both you and Rafael once again glared at her, but Rafael turned quickly and directed his glare at you.

“Alright fine,” You sighed in exasperation. It really did feel like you were being lectured by your father, but you weren’t about to start dwelling on that.

“...Because they heard their parents bad mouthing Olivia after seeing what I said on TV about her and the NYPD,”

“Right,” Rafael shook his head with a dry laugh. “Because of your big mouth,”

“Hey!” You now glared at him. “How was I supposed to know something like that would ever happen–”

“Because you don’t think!” Rafael interrupted you. “You literally think of no one but yourself when you act or speak Y/N, this is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about the other day!”

“And yet, here you are,” Tiffany added with another smirk. Both you and Rafael now looked at her with confusion.

“I’m just saying,” She didn’t wait for you to ask her to clarify. “You already knew she was crazy–”

“Thanks,” You pouted softly.

“And then she went and ran her mouth off, which you knew was going to wreak some kind of havoc,” She went on, ignoring your tight exhales of shock and offense.

“And yet,” She leaned back in her chair.

“You sought her out and sat in here stalking her for almost an hour,” She finished with a satisfied smile, winking at you.

“Well, that’s before I knew she almost got my nephew–”

“Seriously?” You couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Your nephew?”

“See this is what I’m talking about, Y/N,” He sputtered almost in rage. “You don’t– you refuse to understand that like it or not, Olivia is my family,”

“That’s–” You looked away with a sarcastic laugh, trying to swallow the tears growing in your throat as you thought about that statement being even remotely true.

“The truth,” Rafael’s voice finally softened as he noticed the state he had put you in. He took your hands under the table as a request for you to look at him. You did so reluctantly.

“Look I know Olivia is the villain in your story, and I totally understand that” He looked at you with those damn puppy dog eyes.

“...But her flaws, such as not being brave enough to stand up against the ‘bro code’ of the NYPD,” He rolled his eyes.

“They don’t make her a downright evil person,” He finished with a soft look.

“I cannot believe you’re still defending her–” You laughed sarcastically while licking the top of your mouth, refusing to cry in front of him about this.

“And also, being ‘mean’ to me, doesn’t make her an evil person either,” He tried teasing you with that heart melting smile while he wiped the lone tear straying down your eyeline.

“It does in my book,” You insisted.

“Alright fine,” He chuckled. “But I think you can agree that Noah is just a little boy, who shouldn’t be punished just because–”

“Just because his mom is a monster,” You finished for him.

“Y/N…” Rafael looked at you warningly.

“Fine,” You sighed begrudgingly. “I’ll apologize to him,”

“And make a speech to the class,” Tiffany added.

“A speech?!” You exclaimed while Rafael gave her a confused look.

“If you don’t want me to get fired, yeah!” Tiff shot back.

“What the hell am I supposed to tell a bunch of preschoolers?”

“They’re 11-year old's, and you tell them that you didn’t mean what you said, and Olivia Benson isn’t a horrible shrew, or out to get them, or whatever it is the hell you said,” Tiff corrected you.

“Okay I didn’t even mention Olivia’s name,” You put your hands up defensively. “So, I don’t know why anyone was even giving him a–”

“Because they know she’s a cop, duh,” she said in a condescending voice.

“You’re telling me not ONE other kid there has a cop parent?” You raised a skeptic eyebrow.

“They know she’s a…’special’, cop,” Tiffany smiled in amusement at her use of Olivia’s job description.

“Ok well she sure as hell isn’t a ‘special’ cop–” You mocked the statement.

“Just tell them you were wrong, and the NYPD is great and keeps them safe, okay?” Tiffany was getting fed up with you rather quickly.

“You want me to LIE?” You scoffed. “To KIDS?”

“Y/N I swear to God…” Tiff put her hands over her face to keep herself from screaming.

“Alright alright,” Rafael stepped in. “How about if I go with you, hmm?”

“What?” Both you and Tiffany asked in unison.

“What if I go with you, and make sure you don’t make an ass out of yourself?” He smiled playfully.

“I doubt it’ll help,” Tiffany snickered.

“Alright that’s enough out of you,” You grumbled with a scowl.

“Tell me you’re not thinking about it just for the excuse to spend more time with me,” Rafael gave you a tongue in cheek smile as he leaned closer into you.

“Tell me you don’t want to go just to see your little ‘nephew’,” You tried to keep a game face on, but his musk was making it hard to concentrate.

“I don’t,” He shook his head. “I mean, it’s not the only reason,”

“Mmmhmm,” You narrowed your eyes skeptically.

“It’s not even the main reason,” He brushed some of your hair behind your hair, gently caressing your face with a teasing smile. He knew what he was doing.

“Okay,” The word just spilled out of you in a dream-like trance while you melted under his touch.

“Ahem” Tiffany cleared her throat, popping the metaphorical bubble the two of you were in. Both you and Rafael looked at her in annoyance.

“Still here, guys,” She gave a little wave of her fingers.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Rafael took the moment to stand up to leave.

“Wha–?” Your head zipped around where he began walking away. “You’re leaving? Now?”

“I’ve been here far too long, as Miss Tiffany here pointed out,” Rafael gestured to Tiff.

“Besides,” He stepped towards you as he lowered his voice. “I seem to be winning the game now,”

And with that he leaned down and lightly brushed his lips against your face. But not your lips, just millimeters from them on the side of your cheek, in the cruelest of enticement.

You felt yourself open your mouth slightly expecting to be greeted by his kiss, but quickly came to the realization that he was already walking away with a shit eating grin.

“This isn’t over, counselor!” You cried angrily at him through the cafe. He merely held up his hand with a nonchalant wave while he walked out the door into the New York streets.

You turned back around in your chair to face Tiffany, a defeated glower on your face when you saw Tiffany’s shocked expression.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows curiously at her.

“You two are gonna fuck like bunnies by the end of the week, bet,” She cackled as you hit her profusely.

While your face turned a deep shade of maroon, secretly, you were praying she was right.

[365days365movies]

February 17, 2021: Desert Hearts (Part 2)

Welcome back!

Things were pretty relaxed in the first half, but let’s see how things go in Part 2, shall we?

Recap (2/2)

It’s Silver’s engagement party, and Vivian’s attended it after all! It’s a pretty big to-do, and the group slow dances after Silver’s big speech. Frances is once again lamenting her lost love in Glen as she dances with Cay. That dance is interrupted by Darrell, as Vivian appears to look on with jealousy.

After the party, Cay drives a tipsy Vivian back to the ranch, and they make a detour to the shores of Lake Tahoe, which is a gorgeous place that I’d love to visit one day. Cay admits that she doesn’t love Darrell, and Vivian starts to say that she isn’t attracted to Cay. However, she goes back to the car. It starts to rain, and Cay catches up. And...well, you can guess where this is headed.

But a tiny bit shaken by the fact that the kiss just happened, Vivian attempts to shove it back down, to Cay’s disappointment. They head back to the ranch, where it’s actually surprisingly not terribly awkward. But it’s about to be FAR worse than awkward.

See, as they head back from the lake, Frances meets them at the door. She’s pissed, and also kicks Vivian out, having scheduled a hotel for her. Whatever friendship they may have had is shattered, as Frances accuses Vivian of trying to take Cay away from her. And, yeah, Frances is squarely in the wrong here.

This, of course, accomplishes exactly the opposite of what she wanted, as Cay immediately decides to move out, accusing Frances of wanting things without loving them. They have a blowout, and Cay leaves. Fuckin’ WHOOF. That was a tough one, not gonna lie.

Vivian agrees, as she’s in a hotel taking a bath and contemplating what’s just happened. As the day passes, she’s pretty obviously still flustered. Cay’s not doing much better, as she struggles in the casino throughout the day. But both situations seem about to change, as Cay spontaneously shows up at the hotel where Vivian’s staying. Vivian lets her in, but notes that nothing of consequence happened.

See, she’s a respected scholar, and she was treated like a teenager that broke curfew, and she gets a drink in the other room, leaving Cay sitting on the bed. She says that she’ll take out all of her frustration on writing about this town in the future, and goes back into the other room, and...

OK, that’s a goddamn POWER PLAY right there. Holy shit, there should be BOOKS written about that move, goddamn. I mean, in reality, this is a teeeeeeensy bit not OK in the real world, but for this relationship...it kinda works.

Also, quick note before we get started here: ever since In the Mood for Love, the GF and I have been inserting the song “Quizas, Quizas, Quizas” whenever it’s appropriate. Hell, it was even ALREADY IN Brokeback Mountain. The title means, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps,” referring to the possibility of love. So, uh...quizas?

YOU BETTER FUCKIN’ BELIEVE QUIZAS

It’s funny, though, because I’ve noticed an interesting trend in the best of these movies as of late. Credit to @icannotreadcursive for pointing this out to me, for the record. A theme with a lot of these straight-up romantic dramas is the lack of music during sex scenes. Because, especially for the past 3 films or so, music should not be the focus, especially for the first of these interactions. Subsequent interactions perhaps, but never the first one. 

Now, you could relegate that to the fact that these films are significantly character-focused, and this particular moments are often a form of self-discovery for those characters, marking it as a part of their personal development, which I’d argue is accurate. There is a strategic use of silence in dramas, and romances are certainly no exception to this.

By the way 100% not a film scholar here. I study birds. That’s what I do. This is just an enjoyable hobby for me! So, uh, where were we?

Well, it’s time for the post-coital reckoning, specifically for Vivian. But still, she admits her love for Cay nonetheless, while she’s still clearly struggling with her emotions, and with what to do next. Cay, however, doesn’t understand exactly how significant this is for Vivian. And as a result, the two of them clash. But reconcile shortly afterward.

Fast forward in time, but not that far, since Vivian’s still in town. Which is interesting, because it’s Silver’s wedding day. But we are pretty close to Vegas, and this definitely feels like a Vegas wedding, I tell ya. Anyway, while there, Cay tries to reconcile with Frances, who tells her that she’ll never accept the whole lesbian thing, as she doesn’t understand it. But Cay quotes her earlier words about the late Glen, and it finally seems to break through, for the most part.

Soon after this, though, Vivian’s divorce is finalized, and Vivian definitely seems like a revitalized woman. As Cay and Vivian walk together, there is a recognizable finality to their relationship. Vivian tries to end this with a dinner, but Cay’s heart can’t quite take it. The next day, Vivian boards a train, and Cay comes to say goodbye.

But as they’re parting ways, Vivian asks Cay to come with her, and tells her that she deserves someone who sees how wonderful she is. Cay’s too attached to Nevada, though, and won’t leave. And then...

Just one more stop together. And maybe more.

Desert Hearts! That was quite lovely, and I mean that! I’ll elaborate in the Review. See you there!

[acequeenking]

“The Dog Days of Summer” (G)

Summary: After Hades lets her go, Persephone decides to get her husband a little gift to show that she is serious, too: someone to help accompany him, when she can’t be there. 

Happy holidays/Io Saturnalia to @persephonegray, who has a very choice username and, from their blog, excellent tastes. I hope you enjoy your Secret Songbird present! 

When her husband lets her go up early, clutching his love in his hand, Persephone knows: there’s an attempt on her part that needs to be paid. Hades might have done more wrong, but she’s done wrong too in her time, and Persephone knows, knows, that she needs to make it right, much as she can.

Knows how to do it, too. People don’t think it of her much, but deep down, Persephone and her husband aren’t un-alike. She’s just as much a schemer as he does, and there is no one on this earth, above it, or below it who knows him so well as her, his needs.

Which is why she’s going where she is. To settle a score, so to speak, to heal scars too long ago undone. It won’t fix everything about them – frankly, ain’t nothing can do that but time, she thinks, and effort from them both – but it’ll be a sign that she is, to the core of her, quite serious about her man.

Persephone wanders up Etna alone, the heat blasting out of the volcano nothing compared to the winter spent underground. She doesn’t pause to take in the desolate habitat; it was chosen for a reason. Humans don’t tend to react well to semi-active volcanoes or dogs with three heads, and, fortuitously, Etna is smoking, and no one but her could even try to scale the height of it.

She gets to the top in the tip of the mountain and leans inwards, stares down.   Tries to come up with a good greeting, but gets robbed of the opportunity when the big dog stares up at her, his tail twitching.

Well, a deep and inhuman voice howls. Look who is back.

“Hello, Cerberus,” she murmurs; the dog rises from the volcanic depths to the tip-top; they’re alone, and he looks sleek in the sunlight. “Been a long time.”

He makes a horrible sort of deep noise; it sounds closer to a growl than what it is, a deep purr. She holds out her hand and the dog leans into the scritches. Ah. I have missed this. She gives him a good bit of attention, enjoys petting him from tip to tail, gives all three heads an appropriate scratch.

Am I to take it he has put away his pride? Destroyed that loathsome smokestack? The dog says in words that are not quite words, syllables unknowable to all but the gods.

“No,” she says, soft. “I wish. Workin’ on it.”

He huffs, unamused. I am saddened. I miss home. Etna is nice, but…She understands. His home, like hers, might be a hellhole, but it is home. “He’s trying. For the first time in a while.” That takes her to why she’s here, and she smiles, gives her beloved old friend a little smile. She has to trust in that he is making a change, that with his love for regained he might walk back the old hellhole a bit. “Was wondering if maybe you’d—��

He cuts her off with the monstrous equivalent of a scoff. Absolutely not. I told him I would consider returning when the air was not so foul; I will not compromise that vow.

“You know, he’s awful lonely with us both gone so long,” she says with a frown. Her half a year; him, several decades gone. “Think it would be better for him if one of us—“

He has been keeping you longer. He does not need me. The dog chuffs; it moves away, back toward the volcano.

“You used to care about him,” she says, furious. “Ain’t that what they call your kind? Man’s best friend?”

I’m not just a dog and he is not just a man, he growls. Any more than you are just a woman. The dog howls, a deep noise that sets every bone in her body – even in her body – vibrating. But I will not leave you in a lurch. Come.

He howls again, and she winces, wanting to cover her ears but not doing it, for she knows the grumpy old dog will take offense. An unfamiliar yapping follows, and she raises her eyebrows as Cerberus dips down, gently picks up a very small little puppy between his jaws.

“You’ve had a puppy!” She says, eyes wide; she does not ask who the mother may be.

This one is a foolish pup, the dog says, nudging the puppy towards her. It is as white as Cerberus is black, small as he is large. This one longs for cities, adventures. He cannot yet speak in this tongue, and he lacks the eyes required of a guard, Cerberus scorns; the little one does not seem to take much offense. It is not, after all, his fault he was born with one head, not three. But he is patient, and kind, and for your husband, perhaps… that will be enough. He nudges the little immortal one toward her, and Persephone takes the squirming little bundle into her arms. He is just a child. But he will grow. And I will tender him to your care.

The dog is certainly different from Cerberus; white and one-headed, with big happy brown eyes and a nose already sniffing every inch of her in delight. “He’s an active one,” she says; Cerberus nods.

Exhaustively, he says, sounding as tired as she feels every time she boards that damn train.

“We’ll take good care of your pup,” she promises. “Won’t we – ah, what is your name?”

The young one has no name pronounceable in the old tongue, Cerberus answers, a flick of his tail. You will need to come up with your own. The dog yaps happily, and she supposes that is proof enough that he’s happy to go along with her, maybe even go way down under the ground with her.

“I’ll let you know if—no, when—things change down there.” She promises it to herself.

I will return when I desire, regardless of when the change is made. It is always home. But I will hope your husband comes to his senses soon. Take care of yourself, and of him. Visit, if you wish. He starts his long crawl back to his caverns; not quite home, but home enough for now. I could use your thumbs for scratching.

“I will,” she promises, then stops. “We will.”

Now the hard part: she cradles the little dog down the mountain, wishing she’d brought something to carry him in. Persephone isn’t used to being the caretaker, so much; she could let the little thing run free – a little volcanic ash ain’t gonna hurt these paws, but she doesn’t want to put him down. A new little part of their family needs to be loved, and given that he’s the stoic type, well, that falls to her.

The little one licks her cheek, sliding off half a cheek of perfectly nice make-up. “Whoof,” she says, soft, as it tries to get as much Persephone time as it can. “Ain’t he just gonna love you.”

------

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Hermes drawls; staring down at her little wicker basket, waiting for the train. Been six months, six long months, and both mama and Hermes and even, bless his soul, Orpheus, have tried to convince her mean old Mr. Hades wouldn’t like a cute and cuddly pet. They’re all wrong, and she isn’t afraid of telling them all so.

“He doesn’t seem like the most…” Orpheus says, looking at her squeamish, afraid to offend when his only chance of seeing his love is through her. “Well, affectionate sort of…” She raises a hand, his objects die down.

“I know my husband,” she sniffs. “He’ll love it.” The train screams in the distance, as if he is echoing her point. Usually of a mind, her and him; she’ll hope it’s a good track.

Orpheus just stares at the track uneasy; Hermes raises an eyebrow that simultaneously says I don’t believe you, and, also, I ain’t gonna quibble the point. Both of them’s nervous; the boy for a glimpse of a girl that she suspects her husband will let ride, for her is not, despite his reputation, without mercy. Hermes, she thinks, just wants to be done with all this, and she well – she’s ready to start again. Isn’t even nervous about it, because he’s waited the full term, and for the first time in a long time, she’s ready to go, and ready to see him, and ready to start again, and she’s brought proof of that.

The train whistles to a stop; she sees movement at one of the windows, smaller than himself’s profile, and isn’t surprised when Eurydice leans her face against the window.

“Eurydice!” He shouts; he looks back at her, eyes not unlike a puppy dog’s himself.

“Go on,” Persephone says; “go spend some time with her. I can delay him at least half an hour.” Maybe more, if he himself likes this as much as she thinks he will, but Orpheus doesn’t wait for any further reassurances, just storms up the open door and nearly bowls over the man himself.

He gives Orpheus a cool – and pitiful – look, but she knows he doesn’t have it in mind to yell much at the kid, not when she’s waiting, looking very nice, and therefore very distracting to all his best attempts at grumping about.

“Persephone,” he rumbles; he all but jumps off his train’s steps and nods at her; wants more than a nod, but she isn’t going to get it while Hermes is sticking around. They both look at him, both eye-brows just in sync.

“Suppose I’ll go – check out the train.” Hermes coughs into his palm to hide a laugh, and she just shakes her head. He’d stick around for the drama, but some things are meant for them and them alone.

Once Hermes is out of eye, he bends down, presses his forehead to hers. She pushes up, gives him a little kiss that’s for him and only him. It’s a nice moment. “You’re right on time,” she murmurs.

“Still missed you,” he says; it’s not quite a joke, not yet, but they both smile. She grabs his hand and gently pushes him toward the bench, toward the little wicker basket.

“I’m with you now. And I might have gotten you a little surprise,” she says, suddenly a little self-conscious despite all her faith that he’ll love the gift. “Might not be going down alone?”

“Oh?” His curiosity is peaked. The basket barks, quite ruining the surprise; he looks down at it, then at her. “You didn’t—“

She smiles. “Open it.”

He does.

She watches his face as he pulls off the top of the basket, the raised brows, the gentle but deadly oh he mutters as he slowly looks up at her. “Who is—?”

“Cerberus’ pup.” She slowly lifts the wriggling little feather-light dog into her arms. “Doesn’t look much like daddy, I don’t think, but he’s ours now. Yours now.”  

“Oh,” he says. He does the awkward thing he always does when he wants to hold something but is, somehow, too stoic to ask – his hands awkwardly balled up – and she raises an eyebrow, holds out the dog. She reads him like a damn book and ain’t nobody knows it better than him himself.

“Hold him,” she murmurs, and doesn’t need to say it again as his arms circle the little yappy dog and gently holding it like his own tiny little baby. Pretty sure this dog ain’t never hitting the floor in their house. 

“Hi,” he murmurs; the dog, as is its wont, licks half the coal-dust off his old face, and he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You like?”

“I love.” His hand winds around her shoulder. “And you, I…” She presses her head against his forehead, draws him into a kiss that’s not exactly sweet or subtle.

“Love you too.” She ruffles their little dog’s energetic mane; needs a name, this little one.

“Think we oughtta give those kids some time, hmm?” She says; she slides her hand around his back. “Maybe take this little one on his first walk?”

“Alright.” He gently lowers the dog to the ground, and looks at his plain little collar that Persephone’s stitched up – pretty sure it’s getting a new diamond-studded one mighty fast, and she’ll just look the other way at that. “This one got a name?”

“No.” She slides her hand in his as the dog takes off running energetically, as a puppy is wont to do. “Figured I’d wait for daddy to give him a name.”

“Hm.” He smiles at her, his hand sliding over her shoulders. “We oughtta come up with one together, then. You gonna scheme up one with me, outdoor girl?”

She rests her head on his shoulders. “Wouldn’t miss it,” she says, as they walk by the tracks together, the newest member of their household yapping at their heels.

[demomediaempire]

KHALI CARTEL 3 Lyrics

https://media101.co.ke/khali-cartel-3-lyrics/ KHALI CARTEL 3 Lyrics -

KHALI CARTEL 3 Lyrics - Khaligraph Jones ft Bey T, Breeder Lw, Silverstone Barz, Rekles, Chiwawa Download or stream free mp3 for Khaligraph Jones - KHALI CARTEL 3 ft Bey T, Breeder Lw, Silverstone Barz, Rekles, Chiwawa available on Media101 KE

Khali Cartel 3 lyrics - Khaligraph Jones

Okay We good? We ready? We can start? Thank you so much...

First I'd like to thank everybody For showing up for this session Your honor, these are the rappers The masses been requestin' Ladies and gentlemen, it's so important that you follow I'm your attorney but just address me as Mr. Omollo

And now your Honor We're gon' get straight to the case And we'll address these people Who will insult you straight to your face When these people working hard They busy taking the cake Had the masses saying Artists ain't got no paper to chase

And what a shame When they constantly building their brands And all the dope music that they be giving their fans They got some shit to say So kindly let's give them a chance First rapper, kindly make your way up to the stand

What's your name? What you do?

KHALI CARTEL 3 Lyrics - Bey T

Bey T, I'm the truth And do you swear to speak the truth? I just said I am the truth Everything I ever wanted when I'm spitting in a booth I guess that's 'cause it's just in me When I flow I see the proof Brody told me greenlight

Now it's go I can't stop I be praying on a daily Getting closer to the top They appearing to be real Kinda something like a prop Hating when I'm doing better Kinda something like a opp

Got the city on my shoulders And the love now I receive But my socials aren't up So see the media they deceive And we got our local talent But that's not what they pursue 'Cause there really is no limit Told my people to believe

Music seemed like real shit We just tryna make it out Even started up a movement And they tried to make it clout Called the puppet out on site She know what I'm talking 'bout But the truth will always shine And in God I never doubt

Hard work beats talent But with me, it's double trouble And I got alot to say And they can't stop it with a muzzle Watch when people hear my music And they dig it like a shovel Mama said just let it be And put the focus on the hustle

Man I'm rising from the dirt Ten toes on the ground Real music knows no language I'ma do it with my sound 254, to the world, when I look who I'm around I've been queening in my city It's ' bout time I take the crown, uh

Look back at how far I've come and it's amazing Loving through the process In the race but I'm not racing Man I am the wave 'Cause when they see me they are waving They want to me blow but wanna stay so I be spacing I don't have the answers Know who does so I be praying

Made it through the rough And now I'm shining when it's raining This is just the warmup But we winning through our training Bey T got the fire 'bout to blow up Super Saiyan

Rising with the sun, you gon' see me at your window Naenda juu hoe, if you ain't getting on my lingo Getting to the chips I'm not talking bout a Pringle Kenya dropped some heat, I ain't talking about a single

Khali Cartel 3 Khaligraph Jones

Thank you so much for that I'm just hoping they got the info Bey T girl, you're the future Why they act like they ain't know But these greedy ma'fuckers Tryna take what you came for Your Honor, tell me if you ain't feeling what she sayin', oh

Aye, when will you people ever see the truth? The evidence is overwhelming yet you need the proof Leo me ndio lawyer so mtaniskiza tu Nimechoka hata na ngoso so kindly bring Breeder through

KHALI CARTEL 3 Lyrics - Breeder

First off niko njaa ningekuwa refa si ningemeza whistle Jiulize utanitambua lini, au unangoja yangu kifo? Nilizaliwa nikiwa Pro mi ni mnoma by default Na na desire kuwa legend ni go down ka icon Niko kwa track na Khali, buda hii ni nini Ka si dream come true

Si walijifanya hawanioni design ya peekaboo After this, ni Omollo one halafu Breeder two Na ni Cobra so ukipop itabidi umevunjika guu Utasemaje sina bidii na me hushinda stu' Cooking up, soon as the beat starts speakers boom Ni mi na mic solo kwa booth, you snooze you lose Rap kwangu ni ka Ruto na twenty, twenty-two

Halafu after hell si ni heaven, paradise ndio inaningoja But, pressure ya kuomoka ndio imenikalia ka sofa Industry, ngori yaani ku manoeuvre si ni struggle Interviews, me siko booked, kama laibu haina vitabu Lakini story ni ile ile huwezi winda, subiri mzoga So nikajitupa kwa uwanjo na nawatesa bila kocha Si ni TK, ndo kikosi yangu na ni wicked Na play role mbili bado attacker halafu defense

Mi huwapea maneno za busara Tangu ni christen bado na glisten Nabii hawezi pendwa mahali anatoka na hiyo ni mistake Si walifunga milango so tuna knock doors off their hinges Na nina ugonjwa haina tiba na hiyo ugonjwa inaitwa realness

Waambie wapunguze tamaa watuachie pia si tudishi Na mafan asanta sana bila nyinyi hatunge do this Nahapa ya kwamba siachi, TK soldier till the finish Nishaikamilisha, Ten Over Ten kama Willis

Khali Cartel 3 Khaligraph Jones

Hahaha, Ten Over Ten Big shout out to Ten Over Ten Big shout out to Willis Raburu Kushow support, again and again Yo Breeder, you did it my friend And they be feeling you man And if we had more time Then I'd done let you kill it again

But we got pass it over Yo next witness, are you ready? Your Honor, I got to warn you this shawty hella petty From Nakuru to Nai she got zero fucks to give Double S in the house, baby girl, where you is? What's up?

Also, Read

2020 is 🔥🔥🔥🔥 Expect Khaligraph Jones & Tanasha Donna Collabo

King Kaka - Wajinga Nyinyi (Lyrics)

KHALI CARTEL 3 Lyrics - Silverstone Barz

This the punchline queen let's gerrit Oh, we can gerrit for real Shit, I'm the realest let's gerrit

See I set the bar far, yeah, I give it hella heights Welcome to my dark side Where we give 'em all the light I don't care how you bite I will give you hella price 'Cause this shit I call a dream See it's causing plenty nights

And I'm the best to ever do this The game invited intruders So you think I'm throwing shots I'm really hanging with some shooters They fishy, cook 'em tuna All my cats is rocking puma Came about tight as fuck Spread the name like city rumor

'Cause these rappers don't come like this We run like this And too cool some like this And shine like this I got smoke And I ain't talking cannabis But even that we grind like this We grind like this

The money calling prr, I get it from the bag They don't wanna open doors So we get it from the back No debate 'bout who's the best Swear, I'm really on their necks Never tripping for a cheque If they tripping get 'em checked

You can find me on a map Don't know where y'all bitches at I ain't talking about shopping But I'm taking all the bags Barz Queen I'm back at it You're bad at it, I'm too good Been ready but you ain't ready This old school wid dat new school

Cut the crap and cut the cheque Cut it now you're not a threat I start rapping the beast come out Somethin' like the full moon

So fuck they talking 'bout Bring more chics to the scene But I swear y'all don't wanna bring chics to the scene 'Cause I'll fuck around Smoke all of y'all in one session Now we talking 'bout a crown Bitch I got it no question

But this isn't cliched I need a minute to look I do a little school but never do shit by the book I'm selling the art and planting Silverstone's hook I'm giving them barz on barz like Cadbury dude

I tell 'em legendary, what exactly you tryna tell me I done seen niggas getting paper than a secretary So I'm on my grind, I keep my shit on lock And if they not fucking with me I got to rep the block

Khali Cartel 3 Khaligraph Jones

You rep the block? Baby girl you taking shots! Assuming you serious you gon' have to face the cops Your rage is off the cage not afraid to pop But wait You don't gotta do that you was raised to rock

Your Honor, I'm sorry for that that's how them OGs do I'm not only repping these people, they my homies too So let these motherfuckers pay What they owe these dudes Next rapper pia ni ngori, whoof

Rekles is vipi, shukrani ku come Mbogi imekurequest sana You ready to wrap it up? Uko tayari?

KHALI CARTEL 3 Lyrics - Rekles Yes bana Nimekuwa nikingoja juu wako on my case sana Tuchanue basi reason pia we una hate drama

Yeah, cheki Nasiachi nimeifanya juu nimekosa kazi Najua ni nyinyi bado hukaa kwa hizo keja zina parking Bado bado ndani ya ofisi mmejaza ma vitambi Na raundi hii kukuwa fisi ngumu juu wanafuata maganji Meditation kejani ka hakuna cheque we ni nani Hii upande hatunanga kitu si huishi daily na imani

Lullaby huku mtaa yukuwa ni sauti ya risasi Jamaa mgreedy ana njaa inafaa unapakwa kamasi Juu ukilala jo huwa silali Formation kutoka zamani Na sina kitu kwa sahani Pia sifiki bei ya Dasani, ah

Na nikiwafikiria, mnanisinya natapika Juu kama nikutuibia hamfikirii hata dakika, ah Na sipendi wageni juu nina keja bila furniture, ah Bila hata deni, nikiona Landlord me nasafisha, ah

Ukiokota peana tu base inafaa Ka yangu ni yangu mkitaka napeana yote kwa bar Hao hutupima sana na enjoy hizo suti wamevaa Shukran ganja farmer juu after ki-puff si hurelax Me huomba hata ka siendi Church Kwenu wote jo mkule class Budako, mathako, brathako, sister wote wana deserve

Na watajudge juu na curse na nina chuki kwa verse Si ati amebeba ni ameumwa jo na nyuki kwa ass Kila asubuhi naamkanga bana na uji kwa glass Na sijijui muhimu sana jo nijirudishe class

Ati jokes kwa hizi ma mbulu ni jo kuni kwa kunyi Na bado bruh hatupatani ka jo kunyi na fudhi Sleki sana, si hatulali hata kidogo Watiaji ndio si huwachanga waongeleshe jo kisogo

Khali Cartel 3 Khaligraph Jones

Watiaji ndio si hupiganga wakijaribu leta zogo Watiaji ndio huingizana wakisharushiwanga hongo Watiaji wamejaa kwa soko Watiaji wanachoma photo Watiaji leo hamna chenu juu tumeshawasha moto

Thank you Rekles, tushaskia yako ushuhuda Now let's get to the last witness, tuheshimu ma buda Motiff nyonga beat kiasi, make sure level iko sawa Iko fiti buda, now let's welcome Chiwawa

KHALI CARTEL 3 Lyrics - Chiwawa

Naomba ruhusa mahakama nitoe ushuhuda Kuna shida nikisimama kwa huu muda Kwanza kabla mambo yote wacha kwanza nishukuru Hii nafasi nimepata ya kuweka akili huru

Dunia haina haki, ni shamba la wanyama Wale wachache tumebaki mashida zinatuandama Sina rent, sina dishi, kila siku jo na struggle Juu na try kumake a living na kustay out of trouble Nimegive up talanta, afadhali hata kuwa pedi Kukaa bila janta inaweza fanya msee adedi

Ndio me hujam nikiwacheki, matapeli ma poacher Wanataka kuninyonya maskini nirudi ocha Lakini fans wananidai, ndio siwezi afford ku-die Bora bado niko hai na tumaini nitawahi Ndio na push on kila siku, hata kama sio rahisi Kulala usiku ukijua unanyemelewa na fisi

Naeka Mungu mbele ya yote juu siwezi jisaidia Sheria mikononi naeza baki nawaibia Wakinifuata kwa giza wakiomba sana nidunde Wana kismat kwa hii game nimeshika mic si bunde

Ma plough-plough! Ping-ping! Kwa gari zao Kwenye manyumba zao na bring the heat sipendi madharao Kaa nimekosea usini misjudge (Ye ni Mkristo) Hakuna Sunday me humiss church

https://media101.co.ke/khali-cartel-3-lyrics/

[derpcakes]

Never Smooch the Robot: May ’17 Roundup

Whoof, well, May seems to have passed me with the force of a small aeroplane engine, leaving me sitting on the proverbial runway in its wake with my hair pointing in all directions and smelling of jet fuel. Semester is over and I’ve handed in my finalised, beautiful, in-depth project proposal, and now I have free reign to spend the rest of the year researching at a slower pace and writing my novella. Huzzah!

Somewhere in there, because I can always wriggle in time for this sort of thing (and because I needed a break–I spent the ANZAC Day public holiday tucked up in bed with my laptop and multiple cups of tea), over this month and last month I’ve been trying out a Crunchyroll subscription, which is why there are two–two!–whole, shiny new anime being written about in this roundup.

Oh, and I have a Twitter now! Though it will mostly be used to link to the blog you’re already reading, hey, give it a look.

On the bloggo this month:

ToraDora! Wrap Up Post (oh my gosh guys, we did it!)

Sense8ional: A Sense8 Review (re-posted from Popgates after the death of Popgates’ pop culture section. Now to sit down and watch season two…)

A Magical Girl Education: Sailor Moon (in which I finally watch the iconic magical girl anime in its original uncut form and am full of hearts and rainbows but also a little bit confusion)

It’s a Metaphor, Max: The Storm (in which the other big supernatural plot device in Life is Strange makes no sense either, so I attempt to suggest that it’s also symbolic)

On Lady Geek Girl and Friends:

Web Crush Wednesdays: Trash & Treasures (in which the podcast recommendations continue! This one’s about trashy movies and queer stuff)

The Bittersweet Taste of Orange (in which I peer at a high school drama about suicide and time travel and try to work out of I liked it or not)

Magical Mondays: Flying Witch and Magical Realism (Flying Witch is what I spent that public holiday bingeing. Oh, it is a delight. But also worth writing genre meta about!)

More recommendations of cool stuff I found this month under the cut!

Keep Reading

[wingskribes-blog]

Guardians of the Galaxy: Volume 2: Fun First (16/20)

To be honest I had middling expectations going into this sequel. Not that I didn’t like the first one. Far from it. Guardians of the Galaxy (Volume 1) was awesome. It had exactly the right balance of overwrought action and silly humour. Lately the Marvel Cinematic Universe has fallen deep into generic mediocrity, though. From the bread-and-milk banality of Ant Man to Doctor Strange’s cookie-cutter, paint-by-numbers dullness (I still maintain that those two the exact same movie), to the increasingly bad seasons of each Netflix Hero Spinoff. (These started pretty damn good. What happened?) Also, there was the film’s trailer. It made Volume 2 look like … Ninja Turtles. Like The Fast and the Furious ...Like Transformers. Whoof. As so often happens, it seemed as though they filtered the first one through an unimaginative, focus-group-grubbing comity of executive money-men. And that rarely ends well. Happily, I was mistaken.

  I knew it from the opening credits too—from the first moment of the film. It was never anyone’s goal to make Volume 2 super over-the-top badass-cool. Yes there is a lot of action in the film. And it’s big action, with massive monsters, massiv-er explosions and battle effects that would compel Zack Snyder to change his underpants. And yes, every character is offered with a heaping scoop of badassery on the side. But here’s the thing, above it all, it’s abundantly clear that Guardians of the Galaxy: Volume 2 is first and foremost, meant to be fun. From endless and repeated indulgences in schtick with Baby-Groot, to Drax involved in maybe the oddest and funniest will-they-won’t-they I’ve ever seen, it never seems to take itself too seriously. And it never loses focus. On fun.

  That being said … I did enjoy the huge action sequences. Would they have been enough to carry the movie without the franchise’s characteristic playfulness? Well maybe it wouldn’t have been fantastic, but they’re good enough that it would still have been a pretty decent action flick. Which is to say they are good. Yes, the action is good. The visuals are top-notch. The jokes are funny. And I—cannot stress this enough—it’s all put together with the greatest of joy.

  What actually kind of surprised me was the strength of the film’s drama. True, most the major plotlines follow fairly well-tread story arcs. There’s the ‘orphan son with daddy issues’ plot, the ‘unrequited (but maybe a little requited) lover’ plot, the ‘adult siblings, whose relationship has been poisoned by childhood trauma and abuse’ plot, even the ‘gruff, but kind-hearted loner who pushes people away because he’s afraid to be vulnerable’ plot. And I could go on. Not a lot of originality in any of these. But even so, I found myself caring about the characters, wanting the outcomes they wanted, and hurting for their pains. Though I saw nearly every major plotpoint coming from years away and miles ahead, they still affected me. I was involved. In drama, that’s the goal, no?

  I’m not going to talk about the cast. Because if you’ve seen the first one, you already know. Everyone holds up. No one seems to be treading water here. If you liked the characters before—their personalities, their interactions with each other—than you should here too.

  And ultimately, that’s what I would say about Volume 2. If you liked the first one, I can’t see any reason you won’t enjoy the sequel just as much.

[qqueenofhades]

(1/2) Honestly, Hilary, you are a blessing. I want to scream about your amazing Fic, how I love Immortal Husbands and the whole Immortal Family and how I had more fun learning history from your writing than in my whole damn school. But I also want to appreciate your TOG answers and meta. All the more because my friends outside the internet saw TOG as some boring movie with shitty plot and I'm just here in the corner, wanting to scream at someone who will understand about FINALLY seeing...

"(2/2) ...some GOOD queer representation, without throwing stereotypes in our faces, and I can't even begin with the found family trope because THE FEELS. Anyway, what I was trying to say with this rambling: thank you. <3"

....I’m sorry what. Who. Who is saying this. Straight people? I feel like the answer is definitely straight people. Because they have had EIGHTY FUCKING THOUSAND shitty action movies with the Boring White Man Hero, the disposable Muslim-coded (or actually Muslim) villains, the equally disposable eye-candy female love interest who either gets fridged or is secretly evil, Grimdark Everyone Is Secretly Bad And Nothing Matters crap philosophy, Moral Hand Wringing Over Superhero Violence, on and on. So of course they can moan and whine about “iT’s nOt OrIGinAL” and apparently not sufficiently Grimdark and Amoral, and how the dynamics of the team are completely reshuffled in a way that actually doesn’t prioritize THEM, and like.... this is why I never trust media only beloved by straight people, and only ever watch anything after it’s been recommended to me by a trusted queer friend. Because sometimes I remember the difference, and WHOOF.

Because: the gays and people of color DESERVE formulaic action/superhero movies as much as the Generic White Bro (in fact, we can all agree, far more than the Generic White Bro). This is the trap where every piece of media that’s not made by a Mediocre White Man has to be the best all-time of its genre, apparently, rather than using some of the same well-loved storytelling tropes but recoding them and re-deploying them for a more diverse audience. Instead of the Hard Bitten White Man Action Hero, we have Andy and Nile (two women, and Nile as a young Black woman who literally cannot be shot to death, in the year 2020, is fucking revolutionary on its own don’t @ me). As I said in my first meta, even Booker, who comes closest to fulfilling that trope, is made the closest thing to a “villain” there is on the team and even then for entirely sympathetic motives that rest on him having teary-eyed conversations with Nile about how he misses his family and feels like he failed them. His emotions help drive the story in an actually GOOD and useful way, rather than sacrificing everyone else to coddle him through his feeble heterosexual manchildness (why yes, I AM staring directly at the Abomination without blinking). Nobody in the story is EVER penalized or made a fool of for loving their found family (itself an intensely queer trope, even before the queerness of the individual characters) or trying to do the right thing even in the middle of the horrors, and frankly, I just want to consume more media with that as the main message. I’M SO FREAKING TIRED OF GRIMDARK. GOD. IF I WANTED THAT I COULD JUST TURN ON THE NEWS.

And of course, my BELOVED Joe and Nicky: an interracial, interreligious gay couple that has been wildly in love for literal CENTURIES and gives me the opportunity to do things like write the most self-indulgent historical romance backstory fic ever with DVLA. They met in the embodiment of religious conflict and have transcended that, there are never any cruel jokes or expectation for you to congratulate the narrative for being so beneficent as to give you “an exclusively gay moment” (fuck you Disney!). Joe and Nicky’s love story is central both to who they are as characters, doesn’t revolve around them being suffering or being Tormented over being gay (when the cops pull them apart for kissing, they beat the cops the fuck up, WE STAN), gets to unfold naturally in the background of the story with these beautiful little beats of casual intimacy (the SPOONING /clutches heart) and since THEY LITERALLY CANNOT DIE, no chance of the “burying your gays” bullshit. Even when they’re captured first by the bad guys, and I briefly, upon first viewing, worried that they were going the Gay Pain route just for cheap emotional points, they remain constantly united and fighting together and able to do stupid things like flirt when they’re strapped to gurneys by a mad scientist. Then the rest of the team ends up right there with them, so it’s not something that happens to them alone, and Nile comes in to save everyone’s asses, and Joe and Nicky get ANOTHER beautiful moment of fighting the bad guys and being worried about each other and tender even in the middle of this chaos and GOD! MY HEART! MY WHOLE ASS HEART! I LOVE THEM!

And just the fact that it’s not the Evul Mooslim Turrorists or Boilerplate Scary Eastern Europeans or whoever else who are the bad guys, but Big Pharma, nasty white men with too much money and not enough ethics, the CIA (at least tangentially; they could have pushed a lot harder on that but I’ll give Copley individually a pass), and the very forces that want to stop the Old Guard and discount what they do (helping the little people) as worthless... GOD. That is fucking POWERFUL. They literally take the time to explain with Copley’s Conspiracy Wall that even the little things the team does, when they can’t see it themselves, spiral out through centuries and have positive effects down the line. And it’s NOT just in the Western world (no scene in the movie takes place in America, none of the main four characters/heroes are American, and they only go to England when the English villains capture them). They’re in Africa, in Asia, in South America, in all these places where the Western/imperial world order has harmed people the most and in a way that Euro/American audience often gets to forget. On the surface this might be an action movie with Charlize Theron beating up men (which I mean, that alone is fine if you ask me) but there are SO MANY WAYS in which it achieves these deeper moments of meaning and subversion of the narrative that we are so often fed and the ways it could have done this (i.e. the same old Mediocre White Man ways).

I love the fact that the team unabashedly LOVES each other as their family members (I will never get over them all liking to sleep in one room even in their safe house in France), even when they struggle, and that they continue trying to make it right and never consider leaving Booker behind, because he screwed up but they still love him (and he them). I LOVE LOVE LOVE that this movie gave me not just Joe and Nicky but Andy and Quynh: two completely badass queer couples who kick tons of ass and have romance and Drama and rich and well-realized lives outside being used as emotional manipulation or suffering porn for straight people. (I realise it’s only been two weeks since the first one released, but where is my sequel, I have Needs. Especially Andy/Quynh and Quynh/Joe/Nicky needs). I was disappointed that they’d gotten rid of Quynh in a Bad Medieval Way to cause pain for Andy and then shocked and DELIGHTED when she turned up alive in Booker’s apartment at the end of the film. I LOVE that this movie gave me Nile Freeman and everything that she represents in the middle of this hellish year. I even love Booker! BOOKER! When he’s usually the character type I can’t stand and have the least patience with!

So yes. I have watched it three times already. I am sure I am going to watch it several times more. It just makes me so happy.