man in clack

One Exciting Ride (Gaston x Reader Coffee Shop AU)

One Exciting Ride: Chapter 2

Chapter   1   (you’re here)   3

I know it’s super short, but it’s just sort of a kickoff chapter! I promise the next one will be at least 1000+ words!!

Word Count: 554

Tagged: @animeacetheheart@gawston@withouthannah@ciaprincess@the-fic-files@molethemollie@hobbithorse19@supernaturalimagines666 @hellonheels-x0-blog@blackxthexbeast@with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli@amazingangelaaa@frozenhuntress67@totallyjoshlertrash@theoncergames @bucky-with-the-metal-arm @sherlocks-timetraveling-assbutt @lunarinne @ronijdubb@definitely-nota-fangirl @mochiiswan@epicfallenismine

“Those idiots wouldn’t know their hand from their foot if there wasn’t a homing beacon on their cocks for Mr Right-Hand-Man,” you joked, hoping to lighten Belle’s mood. It worked.

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so i drew a lil’ Clack thing for @ichaichalivinglegacy!! here u go lovely <3 heheh i told u i’d do it eventually ^u^

ahh the proportions are a lil strange in some parts, i tried to fix them but nothing worked >.< hope it looks okay tho!!

An Exercise in Forgetfulness

And I have learned that even landlocked lovers yearn for the sea like navy men. Cause now we say goodnight from our own separate sides. Like brothers on a hotel bed–Death Cab for Cutie (Brothers on a Hotel Bed)

You fall onto your knees.

Bony kneecaps plunge against rough concrete, its bitter rime a painful remembrance of your folly, still freshly lain on bare skin. Blood seeps from the wounds. Body-temperature clashes with twenty-degrees-colder mixed with rainbow oil spills and vinegar-scented rancor.

He’s standing behind you, bent over by the waist until his upturned face drives away the remaining strips of light. He grins, “Well what do we have here?” His finger traces swirling patterns of old cigar smoke along your left cheek. “It’s the little princess.”

“Don’t do this, please.”

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smh-t-umblr replied to your post “Did you know that The Price of Freedom has official lyrics? They’re…”



You saved me through the rocky roads
You gave me half of your precious soul

I think this verse is about Zack dying on the cliffs: you saved me though the rocky roads = refers to Zack’s final stand (which saved Cloud, so I’m pretty sure this song is from his POV) in the Midgar wastes; and You gave me half of your precious soul = when Zack gives Cloud the Buster Sword and tells him to live for the both of them.

Close your eyes, you’ve gone through so much my love
All the past is now a cloud of floating memories
The sunlight shining through the long and dark nights we’ve walked

also refers to Zack dying on the cliffs and Cloud moving on (I don’t mean emotionally, I mean him not giving up after losing Zack), as when Cloud gets up after the storm ended there’s literal sunlight in his path to freedom – Midgar.

Every step along the way
You gave me strength to stand my ground

As the times go by, there’s something that I realize:
There was not a single thing
That I could do
If I didn’t have you

Cloud mentions at some point in Crisis Core that Zack is his inspiration and symbol of strength (I don’t have the screenshot of his email on hand right now but if I find it I’ll update this).

and as for the second part, what I think Cloud means is that if it weren’t for Zack’s sacrifice, Cloud would probably be dead or a Sephiroth clone – therefore he really couldn’t have accomplished everything he did in the OG without him.

The price to pay to be right where we wanted to be
It wasn’t so easy to achieve
What we needed to find the way to freedom
I’ve lost so much through it all
But you’re the reason I stand tall
Together we embraced one dream
Protected our honor

it’s probably pretty obvious, but the “price of freedom” was losing Zack. you’re the reason I stand tall = again, refers to both the facts Zack saved him and inspired him while he was alive. also, one of the last things Zack said before he died was to “always protect your honor as SOLDIER.” I think Cloud believes they accomplished that.

anyway, those are my thoughts, and why I believe this song is about Zack from Cloud’s POV. considering that, seeing stuff in the song like referring to Zack as “my love” and verses like:

Lying next to you, I’m holding your hand
Your gentle eyes of beauty bringing peace to me now
The silent breeze so soft it passes right through my arms
I’m wishing that this moment lasts a little bit more

Now I give you all my heart, take it all it’s just for you
Never forget the love you gave us all

makes it so Clacky it’s hard to believe these are actually official lyrics; maybe the lyrical version wasn’t in the game but I still consider it canon. this song is, after all, played during Zack’s final stand – which is a significant scene for both of them since Zack fought the ShinRa army solely to protect Cloud.

now all I want from the remake is the expansion on their relationship they left out of Crisis Core for whatever reason. (maybe it was too gay, who knows)

Title: It’s All Good News Now
Author: Tobirion / Tobiroth / modeoheim
Pairing: Eventual ASGZC
Summary: Despite moving to Midgar Cloud still struggles reconciling traditional Nibelheim values with big-city urges. His virginity should be given to someone special, not a random hookup—but the only person who fits his criteria is his best friend, who is in a relationship of his own, no less. Friends with benefits turns out to be more complicated than anticipated.
Notes: Canon ‘verse (but not canon-compliant).  Thanks to all the people (especially boomchickfanfiction) who helped me out with this one!

Chapter one: [ffnet] | [AO3]

BLACKPINK in your area
Been a bad girl I know I am
And I’m so hot I need a fan
I don’t want a boy I need a man
Click-Clack! Badda
bing badda booom!

ayeeee more blackpink for y’all. this time it’s our little jendeuk~

do you have a bias in blackpink??



(A: TEDDY | C&L: Teddy & Bekuhboom)

[JEN] BLACKPINK in your area X2

[LISA] Been a bad girl I know I am
And I’m so hot I need a fan
I don’t want a boy I need a man

[JEN] Click-Clack! Badda
bing badda booom!

When I kick open the door, they all look at me
Even if I don’t try that hard
All guys get nosebleeds
Pang pang parapara pang pang pang
A toast for me right now, clink clink clink
Hands up, in my hands there’s a
bottle full o’ henny
The girl you’ve always heard about, that’s me, Jennie

[JI] The dancing light wraps around me
Black to the pink
Wherever I am, I’m special, oh yes
[LISA] Don’t care if you look or not, I wanna dance
Like ddaradaradanddan
Ddaradaradanddan ddudurupbaoo

[ROSE] I like it, I like this atmosphere
[JI] I like it, I like you right now
[ROSE] I’m falling for you tonight
I wanna dance with you


[ALL] oppa


[ALL] oppa


[ROSE] BLACKPINK in your area

[LISA] Have to run now, what else would I do
I’m immature, I have no fear, man
Middle finger up F U pay me
90’s baby I pump up the jam
Run, run, oppa LAMBO
Today, you and I are gambling with youth
Don’t you dare stop me, even if someone tries
I’m gonna go Brrrr RAMBO

[JI] Your hands wrap around my waist
Front to my back
My body is special oh yes
[JEN] Your eyes say I know you wanna touch
Like Touch touch touch
touch ddudurupbaoo

[ROSE] I like it, I like this atmosphere
[JI] I like it, I like you right now
[ROSE] This night is awesome
I wanna dance with you


[ALL] oppa


[ALL] oppa


[ROSE] Let’s not be sober today
We’re get higher than the sky
I wanna go fast, without knowing the end
Let’s go, let’s go
Let’s not be sober today
We’re get higher than the sky
I wanna go fast, without knowing the end
Let’s go, let’s go

Translated by:

anonymous asked:

“i’m the lawyer helping you get custody of your daughter and oops you’re all kinds of adorable with her and also i think she’s growing attached to me is this good or bad” au. hartwinnnn, harry is the lawyerrrr trying to get eggsy custody of his sisterrrrrr. this ruining my brain

Eggsy thought that the moment he got Dean put away his life would go to how it was supposed to be. He and his mum could take care of Gracie, he’d join the marines and provide for them, and things would be, not perfect, but finally okay. Maybe it was naïve, well, yes, it was incredibly naïve.

He knew that for sure when the cops showed up on his doorstep while he was feeding baby Grace one evening. Michelle had a bit too much while out with some girlfriends, had tried to throw herself off a bridge. She’d been talked down, booked, charged, and then shipped off to a mental institution for six months.

They were there for Grace. Eggsy had been eighteen for a week when it happened, so it would have been just him in an apartment by himself.

He fought and pleaded with them not to take away his little sister, but a woman from Child Protective Services told him that Grace was being taken away from Michelle indefinitely, pending an investigation into her suitability as a parent. There was nothing Eggsy could do, except try to get custody himself.

He’d spent a bit of time in the foster system when he was little and Dean decided to throw a whiskey bottle at his head. It was rough, yeah once in a while you’d get the decent family who genuinely welcomed you, but that was very rarely the case. It was like a crueler form of juvie, and he wanted to keep Grace out of it.

The problem was, he had no money to hire a lawyer, didn’t really know where to start beyond cursory google search. The only interaction Eggsy had with them people were the government appointed defendants for when he got in scrapes with the law.

After some time on the internet he finally found an group that looked promising, Kingsman Law Offices on Savile Row. It was way too expensive, and meetings by appointment only. But they had an amazing reputation, and had attorneys in family law. Eggsy figured someone there was bound to be enough of a pervert that they’d bum him in return for getting him custody of Gracie.

He was out of options anyway, so it was worth a shot.

Eggsy hadn’t been to a lot of actual law offices, but Kingsman looked more like a lounge, with its leather sofa and chairs, fireplace and hearth on the far wall, and a table with several fancy looking decanters. Further inside there was a single desk, and several closed doors.

“Do you have an appointment, young man?” Instead of a sexy secretary bird that Eggsy had been expecting, it was an older man who asked the question politely despite the skeptical look on his face.

“Sorta,” Eggsy wasn’t exactly dressed to the nines or anything, but he was wearing his nicest black jeans and track coat. “I’m here about family law?”

“I see.” Looking no less skeptical the old man clacked at his computer. “Name?”

“Eggsy Unwin, sorry, Gary Unwin.” He shrank a little at the raised eyebrow. “Fine, I don’t got an appointment, but I need help.”

One of the doors opened and Eggsy jumped.

A tall, slightly older, but not as old as the secretary came into the main room, buttoning an overcoat with an umbrella in the crook of his elbow. He paused upon noticing Eggsy, then offered a bland polite smiled.

Eggsy stepped towards him, “You a lawyer?”

“I am.”

“Sir,” Eggsy rushed forward before the secretary could say anything else.

“Look, I’m up shit creek, I don’t know what to do, I need help, please.” He took off his snapback as an afterthought, trying to look more like a youth in need than a chav. “They took my sister, they gonna put her with strangers who don’t even know her and I can take care of her, I can!”

The lawyer looked completely calm through the tirade. At the end he pursed his lips, looking between Eggsy and the secretary. Then he said, “I see. Would you like to join me for lunch?”

Eggsy blinked. “What?”

“For lunch; I was on my way out.” The lawyer put his hand on Eggsy’s shoulder and steered him towards the door. “We can discuss this at length over a meal.” 

“I,” Eggsy felt a little unsure as to what to make of it. But when the lawyer didn’t simply throw him out and pull the door shut he started to relax. He put his hat back on when he saw how quickly the sky had darkened with clouds. “Thank you, thank you so much, er, Mister?”

“Hart,” The man opened his umbrella and held it over both of them. “My name is Harry Hart, and you?”

“Eggsy.” He shoved his hands into his pocket as the rain began to fall. Mr. Hart’s shoulder was catching some of the rain as he held the umbrella further over Eggsy.

“Tell me about your sister, Eggsy.”


The headliners for Ankh-Morpork’s hottest music festival, submitted and voted on by you, have been counted! Feel free to make a drumroll sound at your computer screen.

The Top Three, receiving album art from our very own @wizardlycatpants and a place on the poster:

The Rest of the Top Eight, receiving a place on the poster:

  • The Wee Blue Man Group (@spydre)
  • The Clacks (submitted with an album name by @adi-fitri)
  • Not-As-Big-As-Big-Ariana-But-Bigger-Than-Medium-Sized-Ariana Ariana (@somekindoffan)
  • The Grateful Differently Alive (@the-last-punbender)
  • The Orangutans (formerly The Monk-ow-ow-ow-please-stop-that’s-my-leg-Mr.-Librarian-s.) (submitted with extreme prejudice by @decade-dance)

Honorable Mentions, receiving nothing but our undying respect and tying with 34 votes each:

Congratulations to all the winners! Prizes will be delivered to your thirsty eyes as soon as Mod Catpants can whip them up.

Thank you to everyone who participated! This ended up going even better than we could have hoped, and you better believe we’ll be doing it again. We love your beautiful brains and your monstrous puns.

Bad Dates

I’m 15 minutes late for a date in the peninsula at a bar I’ve never been to in a city I’ve never been in. The guy I’m meeting seems like a functional human being, one with a good job (at Stanford!) and a real, legitimate LinkedIn. We’ve only talked online, through an app called Tinder. I’m wearing a blue dress and heels and I’ve spent more time on my hair and makeup than I’d like to admit. This is my first date since I kicked out the husbeast in May. 

I walk into the bar expecting to see him, but it’s totally empty except for the bartender. I sit, pulling out my phone. “Can I get a gin and juice, please?" 

I’m taking my first sip and debating on text-messaging him when my date throws open the front door and strides in. His man-heels clack on the tile and he sidles in next to me, all business. He’s significantly shorter than I am - which is a real feat, as I top out just over five foot. Red flag number one: he swore he was five-four. He orders a drink.

"Do you want to go sit down?” he asks, gesturing to the booths lining the back wall. I grab my drink and follow him. He skips the pleasantries and fakes a yawn to stretch his arm up and over my shoulders.   He’s asking me some vaguely esoteric questions (“Picture a box. Describe it to me. How big is it? What is it made of?”) and I’m sucking up gin through a straw that’s decidedly too small when he reaches his hand out and places it possessively on my knee. He runs his fingers in tight, concentric circles - it’s an intimate move, one you’d initiate with someone you’ve known (and probably seen naked on more than one occasion.) I’m feeling decidedly uncomfortable. My legs are crossed and so are my arms.

“So,” he looks over at me with a lilting grin on his face. “Have you ever had sex in a hearse?”

“Excuse me?” I choke through the gin, at an utter loss for words. Is this what passes for dating in 2013? I stand abruptly. “I’ve definitely got to pee.”

I make a beeline for the bathroom with my phone already in my hand. “Ollie, you better fuckin’ pick up,” I mutter, reaching for the door handle. The rings seem to last forever. “C'mon, c'mon, c'mon.” There’s a brief silence, then a confused, “Hello?”

“Oh, thank god, Oliver. I need an organ donation call, stat.”

Oliver is my supervising embalmer and one of my best friends. Without missing a beat, he laughs. “Bad date?”

“You have no idea. This is the worst." 

"No problem. I’ll call you back in four minutes. Change my name in your phone.”

“I love you, adore you, you’re the light of my life,” I exclaim before hanging up. I change his contact info to the name of my funeral home, look at myself wide-eyed in the mirror and reach for the door handle.

My date is still sitting in the corner when I approach. “Do you want another drink?” he asks. “I’d really like to take you to a private beach around here.”

I can’t imagine anything I’d like less than to be completely alone with this man. It sounds like it could quickly become vaguely date-rapey. Before I open my mouth to answer, the phone rings. I pick it up, mouthing, “Work, sorry." 

I head for the door and he follows closely, eavesdropping.

"California Organ Donation Network,” intones Oliver. “Is this Heather Hernandez? We’ve worked with you before and it looks like you’re the go-to person for this funeral home. I’ve got a full donation for tonight that needs to be done in your prep facility - long bones, tissue and skin.”

“So it’s gonna be a long night, is what you’re telling me?”

“Probably eight hours, at a guess.”

I manage to keep a straight face through the rest of the conversation. As I hang up, I shake my head at my date, looking crestfallen. “So sorry, but I’ve actually got to head back to the East Bay. A funeral director is always on call, yanno?”

He walks over to his car and slams the door, tires screeching as he pulls out. I’ve stopped counting the red flags because there’s too many of them. As I head back into the bar for another drink, I wonder why I put so much effort into blowing him off. Next sucky date, I’ll be quick to just tell the dude to quit being a creep.