my flagrants

Latin Phrases Everyone Should Know

Carpe Diem: Seize the day (probably written on a white board in a classroom somewhere)

Caveat Emptor: Let the buyer beware (on legal stuff)

Cogito, Ergo Sum: I think, therefore I am (something profound to impress your friends)

In Absentia: While absent (also on legal stuff e.g., trial in absentia)

In Flagrante Delicto (my favorite): In flaming offence or in the act of a crime (as said in Clue)

Ipso Facto: By that very fact (used in philosophy, law, and science)

Mea Culpa: By my fault (as said in V for Vendetta)

Persona Non Grata: An unwelcome person (diplomatic term)

Prima Facie: On first view (another legal term)

Post Mortem: After death (as said on detective shows)

Pro Bono: Done without charge

Quid Pro Quo: Something for something, this for that (as said in Silence of the Lambs)

Tempus Fugit: Time flies (song by Miles Davis)

Terra Incognita: Unknown land

Vox Populi: Voice of the people (as said in V for Vendetta)


every stupidass thing the Beefchunk Brigade does is immediately incorporated into both character’s larger narratives forever, including several hours of incredibly poor luck at the casino. 

More Ridiculous Skimpy Outfits For Male Characters 2k17.

power moves from spongebob the musical
  • sandy, just like, in general
  • possibly? vagueing both hamilton and dear evan hansen 
  • “i bet daddy could pay. he’s made a lot of money off this crisis.” “HOW COULD YOU!?” “is money really more important than all of us? than me?”
  • sandy kicking the “land mammals go home” sign in half
  • “i should probably apologize for my flagrant abuses of power”
  • “it’s the government’s fault!” “no, it’s the media’s fault!” “it’s squidward’s fault!” “no it’s HIS FAULT!”
  • covering fear-mongering, sensationalism, the failure of bureaucracy and capitalism, triggers, the dangers of hero worship and facism in a musical young children can understand
  • including the line “IS MAYONNAISE AN INSTRUMENT”
  • the scene where spongebob asks sandy to stay is…all kinds of important
    • “wait! the bikini bottom way says all are welcome here. that should mean you too.” “i appreciate that, but i’m not sure i can trust y’all again.” “i know. but give them another chance. please? this is your home, sandy.” “it’s where your team is.” “SOMEONE GET ME A GUITAR” (CHEERING)
  • “i realized something today, buddy. the total devotion of adoring masses is pretty awesome…but they’re not really there for me. not like you are.”
  • “we should be coming together! instead, you’re all looking for someone to blame…or to follow…to exploit, or control!” “you’re all so scared for yourselves, you’re turning against each other!”
  • “the world is a horrible place filled with fear, suffering, and despair! and you didn’t believe me!” “i still don’t.”

keiyakins  asked:

If a "person outside the game" is "any person on earth except the people who are currently in your game", are currently-flying astronauts not people, or not outside your game? :P

You’ve caught my flagrant disregard for in-space astronauts. They know what they did!

anonymous asked:

Please follow up on your story where Kon decides to take up the mantle of Nightwing.

This anon is talking about this

Kon stood in front of the mirror twisting this way and that. The new costume, or uniform as everyone seemed to be forcefully reminding him, felt strange. Alfred had fitted it perfectly he knew that, but in his mind it didn’t seem to fit. The blue symbol across his chest looked strange to him, he kept expecting to look look up and see the S on his chest rather than Nightwing’s wings. 

The mask was the only thing that was really different. The spirit gum that kept it on his face itched. Kon wasn’t sure about this, he’d always been Superboy, before he was anything else he was Superboy. He felt strangely naked knowing he might never use that name again, might never wear the costume he was literally born in again. He reminded himself again that he was more than that now. He’d been born to be a living weapon for Project Cadmus, but now he was Kon El, Conner Kent, he had a name, an identity, a family, friends, a boyfriend. “And Now I’m Nightwing” he said to himself looking again at the mirror.

“woof” came a voice from behind him and he turned to see Tim, Batman, coming out of the shadows. Thinking of his Tim as Batman still took an effort. He didn’t look like Bruce, too short and skinny for that, but the mask was the same, the shadows clung to him in a way they never did to Robin. Something about the mask, the way Tim moved something, made Kon do a double take every time to check it was his boyfriend and not Bruce coming out of the darkness towards him. 

Tim was looking at him with his head cocked and a half smile on his face. Kon had a hard time telling what Tim was thinking with half his face covered. “What?” he asked Tim. Tim smiled wider and closed the gap between then and reached down and cupped Kon’s backside making Nightwing yelp in surprise. “The costume really shows off your ass” Tim whispered in his ear. Kon felt himself blush but had to laugh. 

He’d worried that kissing Batman would be different than kissing Tim as Robin. Lucky for him it was just the same. Their lips met and Kon could feel Tim smiling into the kiss. It was a long slow kiss, with no direction, no urgency, it would have gone on forever if it was up to the two of them. “Disgusting” came a voice Kon and Tim broke away to face Damian, in his gray and blue Robin’s outfit with it’s orange highlights. Under his short shaved hair Damian was scowling fiercely his skinny arms crossed over his chest. 

“I know you’re both pathetically hormonal teenagers but please at least try to control your disgusting behavior in front of me.” He said before pushing his way between them to stand in front of the mirror and started to adjusting things on his uniform. Kon had to smile and couldn’t help but tease Dami “you know in a few years you’re gonna like kissing too” Damian didn’t even turn around “tt- not like that Kent, I’ll never be so flagrant in my affections” Kon rolled his eyes toward Tim who smiled into his hand.

The three of them stood together looking into the mirror, Damian in the middle Tim to his left and Kon his right. Kon took a deep breath and looked at the three of them, Batman, Robin, and Nightwing. In that moment it was really real, he lived at Wayne Manor, he was Nightwing, and he was headed out onto Gotham’s streets tonight to fight alongside Batman. There’d always been something about Tim and Dick, something unspoken, something hard and cold in their souls. Whatever happened out in the streets of Gotham, it changed people. 

Whatever happened, even if Bruce and Dick came back tomorrow Kon knew he’d be a Bat if he liked it or not after tonight. “tt- ridicules” Damian commented. “What?” Tim asked. “Nightwing is taller than Batman” Damian said Tim shrugged “most people are, just got to hit harder to make up for it” Tim turned and walked to the Batmobile swinging into it the driver’s seat. Kon floated up and then down next to him as Damian jumped into the back. “buckle up” Tim said over his shoulder “tt” Damian protested but did what he was told. The car’s canopy closed and the engine roared to life and Kon felt the rest of his life opening up in front of him. 


make no mistake -

the wound is fierce and i am wincing


(all): time’s a healer.

i will learn

to take solace in silver linings

and make love to the loss so tenderly 

both it and i forget 

we were ever separate entities.

i only hope that you’ll forgive my flagrant


but to vet my words would be

a coward’s game



i need a hero.

– z.j.m

one of mine

i need more wearing-each-others-clothes in my life

Steve wakes to sun on his face and a note pinned to the pillow next to him.

He grins like an idiot when he reads it, pressing his face into the pillow.

Good morning, Sunshine,

I didn’t abandon you, I’m in the kitchen making waffles. Because waffles.

Wake up already, I miss you.


After a few minutes of being wholly, uncontainably happy, Steve slides out of bed and pulls on a pair of sweats. He doesn’t bother with a shirt, hoping he’ll get to watch Tony’s eyes go dark.

He’s at the stove, talking to himself about something involving propulsion (at least that’s one of the few words Steve catches) and Steve watches him pour batter into the waffle-maker for a few minutes, enjoying the lazy, but precise way his hands move. Then he clears his throat.

Tony looks back and a smile blooms across his face, followed immediately by his eyes dipping to skim down Steve’s body. “Hi, there,” he says, still eating Steve up with his gaze.

“Hi. Thanks for the note. And the waffles.”

Tony smirks. “Who said the waffles were for you?”

“You aren’t going to share?” Steve asks, moving forward so he can slide his arms around Tony’s waist, his expression as petulant as he can make it.

“Mm, still thinking about it,” Tony says.

Steve is going to offer him some form of repayment, but he gets his mouth halfway open and then really looks at what Tony’s wearing. It’s one of his t-shirts and a pair of his pajama pants, both wildly oversized on Tony’s smaller frame.

Instead he says, “You’re wearing my clothes.”

Tony glances at him and shrugs nonchalantly, but Steve can feel a slight tension, even if he can’t pinpoint it. “They were convenient, and mine were dirty.”

“I think I’ll have to make sure your clothes are always dirty,” Steve says and looks down at the way Tony’s cuffed the sleep pants; they still swamp his ankles. The t-shirt is loose and light around Tony’s body and he slides a hand underneath, feeling the curves of his stomach. These clothes are his and Tony is—

He swallows hard.

“You okay?” Tony asks, carefully neutral.

“I’m great,” Steve tells him and pulls Tony up against his body, drinking in the way he looks in an outfit Steve’s seen on his own body in the mirror for ages.

“Not mad about my flagrant disrespect of your privacy?”

Steve’s puzzled until he gestures at his body, at the clothes.

“No. They're—it’s…”

Tony smiles at him, slowly. “You like it.”

Steve blushes. “You in my things, yeah, I— Yeah.”

That makes Tony’s eyes glow and he tilts his head back, hooking a hand around Steve’s neck to pull him into a kiss. “Good. I like wearing them.”

hoouna  asked:

I swear to god, if you keep talking like that we're not even gonna make it upstairs. // when he gets all passionate about his work.

“I’m sorry, is my irritation at the flagrant disregard for scientific standards making you horny, Lieutenant Commander? Would you like to hear more about the importance of the PPE I never use?”

anonymous asked:

i didnt realize Zelda soaked Rinku in salt water (your last post said brining)

I am so glad that people correct me on this stuff. XD I am SO BAD AT SEEING MY FLAGRANT SPELLING ERRORS. Really. If people didn’t help me out with this so much my entire blog would be completely unreadable.


Settled in the mundane activity of observing, you disarm me with composed intellect, pry the seeking from these eyes

Dizzy, I fall like rain, collapsing into the arms of old wounds, the ones that only heal when charming words grace their tissue

Can we throw a little ice on this fire, cool the caustic moment, quell the forest of nightmares brewing in your head

Silence forces its way through me, disseminating a galant manifesto, to all my flagrant follies I surrender and bequeath

Ask why you remain, you state everything is not what it seems, secretly feel there’s a heart alive in me, you plead with the shore for a sign in the dark

Cold philosophy loaned by sages is not enough to counteract my lack of love or joy in said complacency

Hooking your arm into mine, you attempt to procure the hour, then draw away swiftly to the salinity of the water, knowing we are too misunderstood