#AND I AM FRANKLY THRILLED EITHER WAY. GO BITCH GET OUT THERE AND KILL IT.

[eclipsecrowned]

#post adwd Tyrion is intent to match and/or exceed the level of freak projected onto him his entire life

let him COOK--

[goldengoddess]

infuriating or infatuated ? - pope heyward ♡

pairing: pope heyward x reader

authors note: hello lovely friends! back from the dead with some actual writing this time. warning this hasn’t been proof read or anything fancy just my silly little thoughts <3

warnings: one small nightmare but no detail at all

“you are the most infuriating person i’ve ever interacted with” you whisper under your breath.

the low chuckle behind you made you want to stab someone’s eye balls out. his eyeballs out to be more specific.

“aw cmon you know i’m just playing around. i’m sure you’re fully capable of opening a door. but who knows, maybe you’re only book smart. not door smart”

that infuriating prick. you were going to whirl around and give that cheeky motherfucker a peice of your mind. wipe that silly beautiful smirk-

click!

the handle under your palm suddenly jerked downwards and the door of the hotel room flew open. you let out a small sigh of relief, hoping the pouge behind you would stop making his comments now.

unfortunately that wasn’t the case as he opened his mouth and said, “look at that. people can learn new tricks.”

you scowled to yourself, choosing to ignore his dig, and walked into the stingy hotel room. it smelled like all the other humid and frankly gross hotel rooms the school had bought for you in your years on the decathlon team. the smell was almost comforting, or at least familiar.

pope though, who’d only recently joined the decathlon team, scrunched his nose in disgust. “what in the world is that smell?” he asked.

you shrugged your shoulders and placed your suitcase on the twin bed you wanted to claim.

pope chuckled again, amused. “so what? now i’m getting the silent treatment?”

you simply ignored him and made a big show of unpacking your smaller bag. slowly, you pulled our your toriletry bag, phone charger, and the crazy amount of flash cards you’d spent hours making in the previous weeks. the one you knew pope wanted but was too proud to ask for.

“oh wow very mature of you. look i’m not all that thrilled to be sharing a room with you either but at least i’m not being a bitch about it” he scoffed and began to mimic your actions, pulling out his far more inferior flash cards.

you whirled at him, mouth downturned in anger. “i am not being a bitch,” you answered. “i’m simply trying to make sure you and i don’t kill each other before the weekend is over and keeping my distance. rooming with you wasn’t in my plan either, trust me. why would i want to room with my natural enemy.”

you turned away from him in your own dramatic fashion and made a point not to continue looking at him. as good as he looked in that burnt red shirt which hugged his arms in just the right way and - what?

shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you kept unpacking. this was just nerves. you were frankly a little freaked about tomorrows competition. going up against some of the greatest schools in the state was no small thing. what if you weren’t good enough?

you didn’t notice the only other body in the room come up behind you. close. dangerously close.

“oh i’m you’re enemy now, am i? you do realize we’re on the same team right? so technically we are partners.” he paused and leaned in close to your ear, “equals.”

you straightened at the word, and at his proximity to your face. “we are most definitely not equals. i have way more extracurriculars than you”

he scoffed. “well i have more letter of recommendation than you. and i’m debate team captain .”

the proud tone in his voice almost made you smile before you squashed it back down. without even turning to look at him you answered, “well i have a much higher gpa than you.”

he hummed under his breath, like he was enjoying the banter between the two of you. “not after this semester you won’t. don’t think i don’t know about that c minus in biology. that’ll push me right back up to valedictorian.”

you stiffened. that silly c minus. stupid biology. stupid miss david who hasn’t rounded your grade and couldn’t teach for the life of her. pope was going to hold that stupid grade over your head the entire weekend. he’d win. you’d fail.

you couldn’t turn to face him. knowing you’d be met with that smug smirk of his. the one you sometimes, occasionally, pretty frequently, enjoyed seeing. enjoyed being the cause of.

so you simply let out a huff in response and shimmied to the bathroom before he could say anything else. in doing so, you slammed the door in his face.

god you were so not good with guys.

by the time you were done in the bathroom, you’d only let a couple of tears slip and pope was under the covers in his own twin bed.

when you emerged he looked at you with concern, but as quickly as it was there it disappeared and he said to you, “good glad you’re finally out of there. i was starting to think i might have to take your questions at the completion tomorrow. on second thought that wouldn’t be so bad, go back in there.”

you gave him the slightest most pathetic smile in the world, in no mood to join in the back and forth the two of you always had with each other. instead you silently got into bed and twisted so you weren’t facing him.

as you fell asleep you thought about the boy in the bed a couple feet away from you. the flash cards that had been on his night stand. the color of his eyes. the smirk he only ever sent your way during decathlon meetings. how every time you got nervous he seemed to start up some petty little fight which distracted you from your anxieties. in some ways, he was a lot better than you.

the thought sent you into restless sleep.

you woke up gasping. sweating and scared. you sat up, holding your chest. you were disoriented, not sure where you were. a moment ago you’d been on a stage in front of millions of people incapable of remembering the enzyme involved in digestion and now you were in a dim humid room.

before you could get your bearings a voice to your right asked “are you okay?”

you gasped again, turning towards the source of the question.

pope. beautiful pope who was still awake and had his flash cards on his lap, the lamp next to him still turned on. but at that moment, pope was looking at you. with a look so concerned he might jump over to your bed.

checking the clock on your nightstand and seeing it read three am, you turned back to the boy. “what the hell are you doing up? we have to be awake in five hours.”

at your snippy, and reflective, response pope’s shoulders loosened slightly. as if he was happy to have you participating with him. he motioned towards his flash cards.

“unlike your lazy ass, im getting some cramming studying done”

the way he said it almost felt like.. an invitation? and yet the words made it seem like a challenge all at the same time. maybe you’d accept both.

you pulled your covers off and sauntered over to his bed, dramatic as ever. he watched your every move. you decided right then and there that you loved having pope heyward’s eyes on you. to have him look at you in that way. more than anything. maybe even more than winning the decathlon.

before sitting down on the end of his bed you grabbed your own, again, superior, flash cards from your bag. surprise flashed through pope’s features. you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling and giving yourself away.

“what?” you asked, “did you think i would study with your shitty flash cards?” you scoffed, “i’m not stooping to that level.”

before you could hesitate too much, you passed them to him. “and since you’re technically on my team i guess you can use them as well.”

pope, unlike you, made no move to hide his blinding grin. and even though you were sitting down you thought you might fall over at the sight.

“i knew you’d finally realize i’m your equal” he said as he started flipping through your perfect cards.

you kept silent, not confirming nor denying what you both already knew to be true.

inching forward slightly, he looked up at you and said: “maybe we could start with biology? i’ve been struggling a little bit with the newest topic.”

you knew he was lying. his perfect and consistent scores were proof enough of that. and if it had been anyone else to mention that class, you would have slapped them silly.

but pope got it. he knew how much the c minus had killed you inside. he understood. probably more than anyone else ever had. you could see it in the way he was looking at you now. with love. concern. friendship.

so you answered, “well if you need the help i guess so. cant have you making us lose, can we heyward?”

[deathfm]

(  margaret qualley.  nineteen.  she/her.  )   everything’s fine,  WEDNESDAY ADDAMS,  you’re in the good place!  do you remember your last days in  THE ADDAM’S FAMILY VALUES? but don’t worry, your  ( chipped black nail polish, a sweet smile that promises nothing good, hollowness in her dark eyes, a dark monotone )  will fit perfectly with the rest of the good place, so long as you commit to the  MANIC PIXIE DREAM GIRL  despite your tendency to commit to  ( apathy )  that the architect of the good place said you were. it’ll just be like a fun acting exercise! just play along and everything will continue to be fun. (  pepper.  twenty three.  est.  she/her)

ABOUT THE MUN.  gay in the house and i’m in the house gay

hey bitch, do you really, really, really wanna go hard? hello all! my name is pepper. i meant to do this intro bit a bit earlier but i got very distracted by dr. stone so i apologize for that! i am also going to apologize in advance because i 1. have not rped in like three weeks and frankly you’re gonna be able to tell, i am very rusty and 2. i haven’t been in a multifandom rp.... in at least like a year, so i’m also very rusty at that! that said i freaking love the good place and i could not pass up this opportunity! if anyone has watched the show and wants to cry with me over jason mendoza,,,, hit your girl up. that said omg okay a bit about me: i say omg, like, and literally way too often, so sorry about that in advance. i’m also very canadian, which probably explains all the apologizing sdkjsdk. i work in a grocery store so i’m technically essential which means i will be disappearing semi often to do long ass shifts at work (rip) but i’m almort always lurking on mobile or discord so pleathe,,, hmu. and finally plotting and exchanging headcannons and things? my freaking lifeblood. i live for that shit. please talk to me, i’m beggin’. okay sdkjdskj now onto some stuff about everybody’s favourite goth girl, ms wednesday addams. 

CHARACTERIZATION.  sorry for being a dark sorcerer. as if its my fault.

okay, if you’ve ever watched any addam’s family content... i am really not deviating much from that. the daughter of a rather eccentric morbid family who grew up rather eccentric and morbid herself. has always had a facination with death that she now just gets to nurture in this environment (although lowkey wednesday is kind of dissapointed by the whole set up i’m not gonna lie). you get the vibe.

died in 1993! the height of rock and roll, pop boy bands, and chokers. 

definitely lowkey thinks that she’s a disappointment to her family for ending up in the good place in the first place. will be thrilled when it’s eventually revealed that this is the bad place. or well, as thrilled as wednesday gets. 

wednesday addams is a demigirl and you can’t change my mind. honestly considering making her straight agender tbh, because that just seems like fact to me. 

a bisexual icon. hates everybody but hates everybody equally. will fuck your shit up if you’re misogynistic, homophobic or racist. let me direct y’all to this video cause this is fact. 

kind of an arsonist honestly. loves to set things aflame. definitely did indeed set her summer camp on fire. is pretty proud of it. 

lowkey will miss her family so much while up here. she never really had friends outside of her family, like not real genuine ones. wednesday’s never really truly been on her own until the afterlife and she’s honestly a bit unsettled by it. won’t let it show in the slightest though, honestly you’d be sure pressed to see wednesday’s veil of indifference break for even a moment. that said, she definitely misses pugsley and lurch the most even though she’ll never admit it. might get lonely enough to actually attempt to find herself a friend we’ll see. 

truly a little bit witchy, but like regular person witchy considering wednesday never had any powers in cannon and certainly doesn’t now. will do a seance in her place to attempt to see if she can reach the mortal realm. is very seriously wondering where the demons are. would have a lot of medieval weapons in her place if it really was catered to her, but seeing as things are meant to be a bit off wednesday’s place is probably filled with stuffed animals and dolls, but not even creepy dolls... but cute ones. the whole room is bubble gum pink and whenever she tries to paint the walls black they just revert back... she’s mad about it honestly. 

that said wears black and only black at all times but that should be a given. 

is definitely wondering where her ex joel is. like she figured he would have popped up here after she scared him to death and so she’s a bit confused, but rolling with it. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS.  winks with my third eye

A SUSPICIOUS BYSTANDER. honestly i would die,,, for someone who realizes that wednesday definitely doesn’t belong here and mayhaps a team cockroach situation? like they both know they’re in the wrong place and they try to help each other hide it. please,,, i need it. 

PARTNER IN CRIME. kind of the new pugsley but it might be more of an equal relationship. basically someone who wednesday can drag into her messes. the person on the other side of the seance circle... they catch each other’s gaze through the incense smoke,,, the romance of it all no i’m kidding sorry sdkjdsj but i do want this connection!

UNLIKELY PAIR. an april and andy situation. they are complete opposites, one the doom and gloom and the other sunshine and rainbows,,, and yet someone it works. wednesday would kill someone for them.

TWO PEAS IN A POD. the opposite of the other connection because these two meet and just instantly click! they both have so much hate deep inside of them! and now they can share this hate with each other! it’s a match made in heaven (badum tsss) and probably one of the first times wednesday actually wants to really try to be friends with someone. 

CRUSH. either on wednesdays end or theirs i just feel like this could be really fun! 

ENEMY. someone who hates wednesday and who wednesday hates in return. their personalities just really clash, and wednesday knows that if she ever really does find herself in hell, she’s dragging them with her. 

UNSUSPECTING NEIGHBOUR. i don’t know why but i just find the concept of there just being some poor schmuck who wednesday pesters for like a lock of their hair or something. like they don’t deserve this. but she’s bored here in paradise and she’s making a bit of a game out of creeping them out. after all, what else is there to do?

and anything else under the sun folks, i would love to plot something specific to our muses out! so yes, smash that like button and i will come running!

[hanalwayssolo]

What We Owe To Each Other: Ch. 1 - Morning

A/N: WOW I REALLY AM ALIVE IF I AM STILL POSTING MY WRITING HERE LMAO ANYWAY

I originally intended to post this as a one-shot, but my one-shot got too long for my own good so I had to divide it into 6 chapters. Said chapters will alternate between Sam's and Nate's POVs. I've had this plotbunny in my drafts for quite some time, and since I rekindled my love for this game, I have inadvertently activated this particular hyperfixation like a dormant volcano coming to life, so here we are. Also, I realized that this is my first time sharing my writing for Uncharted and I am motherfucking terrified. Please be kind to me.

Morning | Noon | Night | Midnight | Nightmare | Dawn

[Link on AO3]

Autumn in Vermont, as it turned out, was piercingly cold for Sam’s tastes. He honestly thought his balls would freeze off. He might have missed the cold at some point after all those years he spent in Panama, but he could not stand this kind of cold: sharp and biting and cruel. Jetlagged and with barely three hours of sleep, the drive—though scenic at best—became a torment. If it weren’t for his numbing hands around the wheel of his rental car, or the fact that the heater failed to offer him the warmth he sorely needed, he would have taken the time to pause from the long drive, roll down his window, maybe light a cigarette and bask in the view that unraveled around him like a nostalgic Polaroid picture: morning fog veiling the stretch of the freeway; rows of maples and aspens aflame in scalding shades of gold; hills of red and orange and ochre, as if the entire landscape waged a private war against the sky’s dreary and cloudless gray.

But Sam kept driving. No offense to the spectacular colours of fall, but all he could think about was how he was still supposed to be somewhere in India just right about now.

Maybe this entire freezing weather wouldn’t have been half as bad if his recent expedition throughout the Western Ghats had not spoiled him too much of the pleasant summer heat, the exquisite food, the thrilling views—all of which he could never be afforded on this side of the world. That or his long-ass flight from Mumbai to New York simply made it unbearable to adjust to the sickly shift in season. It was a good thing he had some sense to pack warm clothes for the road; there was certainly no way in hell he would have survived in Victor’s old yet tastefully floral Havana shirts and cargo pants. Questionable fashion choices be damned, but he had to admit: those had been immensely comfortable. Even little Meenu was charmed to see him in those clothes. 

Either way, he’s already here. What else was he left to do? He should probably just focus on finding that godforsaken cottage, so he could finally warm himself up with a drink or two…

But even as Sam drifted past foggier hills and even redder mountains, and with the sordid space of the cheap Chevy not getting any warmer, he was beginning to regret heeding Nathan’s advice to postpone his supposedly extended Indian summer.

Frankly, he was beginning to regret agreeing to this whole Thanksgiving affair at all.

Of course, this was all their stupid idea. At the time—still woozy from the euphoric, Libertalia high—they had gladly obliged to celebrate at least one holiday from there on out. But now, turning down the invitation was out of the question, not when Sam had promised Nathan (and even Elena, too, for Christ’s sake, what was he thinking?) that he would give this family tradition a try. And Sam, being a man of his word (or at least, he tried to be) wanted to deliver. He even brought the finest bottle of pinot noir for the occasion. Sure, he may be a lot of other awful things, butbreaker of promises was certainly something he was not keen to add to his growing repertoire of crimes. Especially not after what he had done to Nathan. 

Most especially not after that.

He had already failed his brother more than he should have. Participation on a trivial holiday such as this one or otherwise, he was not going to fail him again.

Besides, what harm could one Thanksgiving dinner possibly do, anyway?

Well, I’d probably end up questioning my life choices, he suddenly thought miserably. We’d all be sitting at the dinner table and Nathan will tell me everything there is to know about their new joint venture, their pleasant life in New Orleans, all the while I’d tell them the most entertaining story of how I almost got myself killed in India, how I’m failing to get my shit together, how I’m the incomparable good-for-nothing in this goddamn family —

A soft and a rather sensual moan shoved him out of that spiraling thought. And then another. It was coming from his jacket pocket; he fished the thing out—which, of course, had to be his phone and its extremely inappropriate ringtone—and saw an unknown number on the screen. He answered by the fourth moan.

“For the love of god’s balls, if this is another insurance offer I’m gonna—”

“Please tell me you’re already on your way here,” the worried voice on the other line said by way of greeting. It was Nathan. 

“Oh. Hi there, little brother —”

“So? Where on earth are you? I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday morning—“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—relax,” said Sam placatingly, somewhat a little startled with his brother’s annoyance. “I only got here this morning,” he went on to explain. “My flight from Mumbai got delayed, then I had to book a rental car from JFK since my flight going here to Vermont got canceled, but yeah, sure—I’m on my way.”

“And by ‘on my way’, where exactly are you now?”

“Huh.” Sam drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, assessed the area that rolled before him: more maples and aspens and its swollen-red leaves; majestic oaks and its moss-encrusted trunks; an abundance of dew-soaked thickets; an endless foliage of green and gold. The forest around him breathed mist and fog. No nearby house nor sign in sight. 

“Still somewhere in Sutton. I guess,” he answered uncertainly.

“You guess?” Nathan laughed. Sam was certain he heard the slightest sound of mockery from it. “You sure you’re not lost?”

Sam scoffed loudly. “Am I lost?” Lost in my own mind, maybe. “Nathan, I never get lost.”

“Oh. Of course,” Nathan said rather feebly. “Okay.”

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“What’s this really about?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you never call just to check in on me. Everything alright?”

A sudden, inexplicable silence. On the other line seeped the thick wail of a saxophone, the shrill peals of laughter, and his brother’s obvious hesitation. It was either Nathan was hiding something from him, or something was awfully wrong. 

Usually, his money was on the latter.

“Uh, yeah,” Nathan said after a strained pause. “Everything’s fine.”

“Nathan.”

“What?”

“I could literally hear your bullshit all the way out here.”

“I… uh, hang on a sec—”  Nathan’s voice faltered and was quickly followed by a muffled noise, unsteady footsteps, a slam of the door. And then another silence, more unbearable than the last.

“Uh, Nathan? Still there?”

No answer.

This time, Sam pulled over the side of the road. He was dreadfully cold and, all thanks to his brother, was now also growing dreadfully anxious.

“Nathan,” Sam said impatiently, dragging a weary hand over his face, “I swear, you’re literally killing me here—”

“Hi. Sorry.” Nathan cleared his throat, letting out an audibly weary exhale. Wherever he was, it had gone completely quiet. “Right. Okay, there.”

“Now what the hell’s going on—”

“I’m going to be a dad.”

A dumbstruck silence. Then, in an almost unnerving wave of relief, Sam burst out laughing. 

“I’m being serious here,” Nathan said irritably.

“Yeah I know—Jesus, Nathan,” Sam said, pressing his forehead against the wheel, “for fuck’s sake—for a moment here I thought you’d be telling me that you’re sick and dying. But, anyway. I’m happy for you, little brother! How far along is Elena? Or perhaps you’re referring to another baby momma here—“

“Goddamnit, of course it’s Elena.”

“Right. Just had to make sure. So. How far along is she?”

“Ten weeks.”

“Ten weeks? Wow, that’s…” Sam trailed off, his eyes narrowing on the road. He was absently watching the swirl of leaves that danced with the autumn breeze until an amusing realization finally dawned on him.

“Now you wait just a fucking second.”

“What now?”

“Really? Ten weeks?”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

“Holy goddamn shit, you son of a bitch!” Sam said, unable to hold back his laughter. “I can’t believe you did it in fucking Libertalia—”

“No, no, no—we are not gonna have this conversation."

“Of course we’re not gonna have this conversation," Sam offered helpfully. “At least, not for now. Because I’m pretty sure that’s not the reason why you called me, right? I mean, this could’ve waited until I get there and yet here we are.”

They were quiet again. Outside, the sky had visibly darkened. Drops of rain slowly pittered against the windows. 

“It’s just…” Nathan drew out a sigh, paused, and sighed again. “It’s, well, I just… I’m happy, you have to know that. I really am. But… fuck, I don’t know, Sam. I’m kind of freaking out. What if I mess this up? What if my kid—”

“Whoa, okay—slow down, alright?” Sam leaned back in his seat. “Nathan,” he slowly began, “I know for a fact that you are gonna be a good dad but first of all: have you had the chance to sit down and talk to Elena to… you know, sort your feelings out?

“Yes. Kind of.”

“Nathan.”

“Okay, fine—no, I... we haven’t talked about it. She’s been busy—well, we both have been busy ironing things out with the new firm. We haven’t had the chance. We haven’t had the time—”

“Then make time for it.” As soon as the words left Sam, he realized how sharp and cutting the way he had said it that he immediately regretted being so callous. But if his brother needed to hear his piece of mind, then he might as well tell him what he needed to hear. “Look,” he went on, “I don’t know shit about being a parent or being someone’s husband, and I know I’m not the wisest brother out here and I’ve done stupid things, but I’m not that stupid not to know one thing here. And that one thing I am sure of is that your wife needs you to open up to her. She needs you now, more than ever. So please do us both a favour and calm down and go talk to Elena, ya hear me?”

Nathan said nothing. Another silence. Sam was waiting for a witty remark, a snappy comeback, anything. 

Instead, what Nathan said next was: “Thank you. And can I just say… you’re not dumb, Sam. You never were. If you could just find Darcy again—”

“Okay, don’t even go there.” 

“Right, sorry—oh wait, hold on—” Nathan abruptly broke off. Absolute silence. Then, a series of indistinct noises followed by a voice that was unmistakably Victor’s. Sam waited. Nathan came on again and said, “Sorry about that. Look, I—uh, Elena’s looking for me. We’ll talk later once you get here.”

“Right.” Sam exhaled a weary sigh. “Then try not to lose your shit before I get there, yeah?”

“Ha-ha, cute. Be seein’ ya,” Nathan said and before Sam could even say another word, his brother had already hung up.

Sam sat in solemn silence. Rain drummed heavily against the roof of his rental car as he let Nathan’s news marinate in his head. I’m gonna be a dad. Strange to think how years ago, back when they aimlessly roamed the streets of São Paulo armed with nothing but their stuttering Portuguese, the city brutally carving capable men out of their teenage bodies and testing their will to survive, he and Nathan only used to crack jokes about the mere possibility of this, of settling down just for the heck of it: being the best man at each other’s weddings, buying a house somewhere in the tropics, watching over each other’s kids. It all sounded ridiculous at the time. It all sounded so ridiculous simply because they believed that an ordinary life was something they certainly could never afford in their lifetime. 

Now here we are and my brother’s going to be a father, Sam thought over and over, and I’m going to be someone’s uncle. Shit.

Sam dwelled on that thought more than he should have. And for reasons unbeknownst to him, he was suddenly reminded of Hector Alcázar. Who would have thought that there was once a time that a notorious drug lord had tempted him with the very prospect of a quiet, normal life? How bad could it be to have a family of your own, to have someone you can come home to, mi hermano? Alcázar would ask Sam whenever their conversations steered too close to their own personal affairs. He did not mind. It was not like they had anything better to do with all the time they had in the dark and dismal quarters of their prison cell. And with the way the man fondly recounted many an anecdote about how he had met his late wife, Sam was almost convinced that murderous cartel kingpin or no, everyone’s infamous Butcher of Panama surprisingly owned a goddamn heart. 

Is it really all that bad? Sam had chewed on that question for years like a bubblegum slowly losing its taste. As far as the Drake brothers’ wayward ways were concerned, all this talk about an ordinary life never appealed to both Sam and Nathan back then. They already had each other. They were the family they needed. Why ask for more than they could possibly have? And besides, ordinary meant easy. And they were never meant for anything easy. They were meant for street brawls and petty thievery, for unearthing ancient relics and treasures of dead men. 

But if Sam were to be truly honest—and since honesty came so unnaturally to him, this was a monumental feat—to have an easy life, or at least some semblance of it, did not seem such a bad idea at all. In fact, that was all he ever wanted since their shitty father abandoned them to fend for themselves. Because no matter how many times he had expressed his distaste at even the slightest notion of entertaining such ordinariness, a part of him wanted it. More than he was willing to admit, that part of him still starved for it. Because an easy life also meant a good life. And a good life—a comfortable life after all the shit they have been through—was everything Sam wanted not just for himself, but also for his brother. 

So Sam could only be proud of Nathan for finally finding a good life worth settling for. He was happy for him. He should be happy for him.

And yet...

A treacherous train of thought. Its relentless shriek leaving echoes of all the what-ifs. Maybe if he hadn’t lost the last thirteen years of his life rotting in a prison cell, he might have had a shot at something good, too. Heck, had he made better decisions before Panama, or before São Paolo, or before London even, he might have had something better than good. Maybe he wouldn’t even have these nightmares plaguing him every night. If good and normal and painfully ordinary meant not having to wake up in the most ungodly hour desperately clawing at the bullets that no longer dwelled inside his body, then by all means—he would gladly settle with that. And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be sitting in a cheap rental car in the middle of freezing Vermont, wallowing and miserable and bitter, wrestling against the horrible feeling gnawing at the pit of his stomach.

Maybe Nathan was right. Maybe he really was the jealous one. And he hated himself for it.

Oh, for Christ’s sake, Sam thought. He finally rolled down the window and lit a cigarette.

[yannfredericks]

g’day folks! It has just occurred to me that I never really spoke about the incredible yolly content I was blessed with in london this may and that is, quite frankly, a crime, so here we freaking GO

ok so I never fully explained my semi-relationship with sinead and jordan (who were playing yann and polly at the time) and I probably never will to both a) respect them and b) not embarrass myself by over exaggerating it but just know that I’ve spoken to them both several times, they’re lovely lovely people who were both fully aware of the yolly ship and just so hilarious about it all and such good sports and SPOILT THE FUCK OUT OF ME with content, so without further ado:

A List of Yolly Moments from May 2019

-yann and polly walk across stage as act 4 scene 14 begins and as they’re laughing together yann wraps his arm around her shoulder and tugs her into a hug as they walk (I very nearly screamed and unfortunately couldnt focus the rest of the show, a fact jordan and sinead found most amusing)

-spoke to sinead after the show and she said that jordan often did this sort of thing to mess with her???? hello??? where was I??? (exact words were “he’s always fannying around, sometimes he kisses me, etc...” EXCUSE ME HE WHAT????)

-jordan said he does it bc he “loves her” and was “sure they’ll be more yolly moments” to look forward to and BOY was he right

-bammy set out to murder me after that and I am forever grateful

-the night he knew I was in consisted of him wrapping an arm around her, standing by her, looking at her, talking to her ANY TIME HE WAS ON STAGE which, as an avid fan of both yolly and jordan and sinead, I can confirm was NOT NORMAL

-pretty sure in the EGM scene that sinead’s character got into an argument w someone and jordan wrapped his arm around her and started arguing too, part of me swears he called her his wife, either way it was incredibly amusing

-yann annoying the everloving fuck out of polly in the wand dance, teasing her and getting up in her space, playfully rubbing in that his spell worked before hers etc

-should mention that at one point karl wrapped his arm around polly (craig (who plays karl) ships karl and polly which is HILARIOUS to me) and she was so quick to shove him off...no such complaints when yann did it tho...I see you..

-so after wand dance polly always goes “oh poor little potter!” and craig goes “he’s so embarrassing” and that’s about it as everyone giggles and mocks albus but THIS TIME after those two comments, as they’re leaving the stage yann turned back and YELLED “POLLY!!!” and I DIED pretty sure my exact reaction was to squeak and hiss “FUCKING HELL” to my friend beside me, followed by “HES TRYING TO KILL ME” and I was not exaggerating in the slightest

-so anyway they’re in love we know this, I have never seen a boy more enraptured, no matter what they were doing on stage he was watching her

-IN THE TWT SCENE HE WAS HANGING OFF HER SHOULDERS AND HIDING HIS FACE IN HER NECK AND SCARF IT WAS SO CUTE

-so polly is exasperated with him in the funniest way that so clearly tells you that they’re best friends and yet she’s simultaneously hopelessly endeared and idk what to tell you if you don’t ship yolly bc it’s there!! it’s happening!

-I tweeted a bit about Yann’s handsy-ness and sinead openly stalks my acc on the odd occasion and tweeted jordan “don’t touch what you can’t afford x” which is SO HER POLLY I couldn’t believe it I love them

-the thing about jordan and sinead is that they’re best friends off stage and my god it shows in their onstage chemistry and I am so thrilled I got to see them

-continued to be husband and wife in the second EGM, incredible content and teamwork to push the staircases off stage, we stan a hardworking couple

-(unrelated but once when jordan was on as scorpius, during the godric’s hollow scene after the malfoy hug I saw sinead in the wings give him a little wave and I just-)

-at the end of this show they had their little walk and hug moment that filled my heart with love and I can’t thank them enough for going so above and beyond for me that day :’) and jordan agreed to pay for my funeral so high fives all round x

-this hug became a Thing for the last few shoes before cast change, and on the day itself I swear they just wrapped both their arms around eachother as they did the cross... :’( I’m emo and I miss them

-I will never be able to thank jordan and sinead enough for their kindness, their good sportsmanship about the whole thing, for playing along, for making me feel like a friend and for just embracing me as I am and, of course, for being the first to make yolly canon, truly the GOAT

-honourable mention goes to jordan the first time I met him for bringing up yolly and going “yesssss this is the ship!” he had my heart from the moment he was wheeled on stage and he’s had it every day since

-cast four brought us emma may and luke who are SUPERB and apparently decided to make yolly canon of their own accord, bc while I was still mourning my OG yolly legends for that first show I saw with them they ended the show crossing the stage with a HAND HOLD!!! A CANON HAND HOLD

-this was a lot to process and tbh I still cant believe that happens canonly every night

-they have such a fun relationship on stage, polly protects him as they walk past draco and they have a little gossip

-I’ve seen emma’s polly be incredibly excited when Yann’s spell works in the wand dance, I’ve also seen her throw a fit and ask why his worked and her’s didnt bc it’s “not fair” and I love both responses

-their characters also hold hands at the end of the pumpkin placing scene and they literally skip offstage holding hands?? pure

-polly is constantly trying to get yann’s attention during the DADA scene and it’s beautiful

-in many ways their yolly feels a lot younger than jordan and sineads and they seem to play a lot more games when it comes to their relationship, like real schoolgirl crushes on eachother

-I have a friend (@karl-jenkins) who described it as polly actively pursuing yann and yann playing hard to get until craig dies and they realise life is too short to not be together and that feels really fitting for them

-jordan and sinead were more two best friends who were as close as friends can be, knowing how to push each others buttons and tease eachother with all the true love and fondness bubbling just beneath the surface ready to spill and I am irrevocably in love with both of their versions

-stage door mentions of yolly include leah mentioning that she’d heard a lot about them recently and agreeing that polly doesnt NEED yann (bc shes a boss ass bitch on her own) but that they’d be a good couple so we stan her

-me telling ryan my yann’s backstory after he LIED to me about having one for him kssjsjs and jon overhearing and being more into it than any other person I’ve encountered 

-jon, out of absolutely nowhere, saying “tell me about your yann and polly fanfictions!!!” I mean...what?

-in summary, yolly is canon and the yolly shippers stay winning

-thank you for your time and please let me know if there’s any yolly moments that you have seen yourself!!!!

[dsmadmin]

#MarkOfCain

Written By @DeanWinchester_ @KingOfHell_DSM & @AngelicOperator

The air cold around his lifeless body, encased in darkness. Silence and peace for one rare moment. He'd sought relief from the constant pain knowing he'd gave everything he had left to flee it. A red glow slowly lit the tomb his flesh burning as the demanded payment. Moments later he took a breath, eyes opened looking inhuman. Black and lifeless orbs had replaced the hazel irises. Lifting his right hand to peer at the burning mark. He was closed inside something, putting his hands against the stone cover he shoved hard to the left and sent the stone slab hurling off and hitting hard floor cracking down the middle. Sitting up he pulled the gauze away and climbed out of the coffin. Cracking his neck he looked around adjusting to this void of feeling. There was no pain just quiet. @KingOfHell_DSM

Crowley - •Crowley sat on his throne. Demon after demon complaining about something. Lucifer was out, doing hell knows what. But it played his favor. He could run Hell as he saw fit. It was what he wanted. To command and hold onto the power of the tortured souls of Hell. At this moment. He feared nothing, sure there were things that could kill him. But when his plan falls into place. It will be hard to take him out.

A smirk spread across his lips.* And there it is. What I was waiting for. *The mark of Cain had been a perfect plan. He just had to wait. And it looked like he didn’t have to wait long. With the power of his mind he called.* Come home.

Colt - -Instinctively he disappeared from the cavern and reappeared in hell's throne room. Black eyes focused on Crowley not even acknowledging the demons in the room.-

Crowley - Well..well...Colt Winchester. You surprise me. Already got yourself killed. •he chuckled and stood from his throne.• Leave us. •he ordered the other demons away. They bowed and left the room.• You have made my day I must say. •he walked down to him, standing before him. Oh his plan was falling into place. The key piece had always been Colt Winchester. And now he had him. And he wouldn’t let him go.• Follow me, I have something for you. •he walked around him and to the door. Opening it and stepping out.• I do believe you’ll love this gift. The mark is nothing without it. •hands placed behind his back. He walked through the halls of Hell. To the room where all relics are held. Stepping inside he looked through the mess of relics for the first blade.•

Colt- No speaking he turned and obediently followed, the demons they passed moved the fuck bad whispering to themselves. The torches flickered lighting the way of what seemed to be an endless corridor. Walking in behind Crowley he stood watching, recognizing a few items laying around from the many years of hunting. Lucifer came to mind for a split second but he didn't care anymore so he didn't ask if the angel had returned yet.

Crowley - The first blade laid in a box with magical ruins, that only Crowley could open. When he found it, he wasn’t about to let it just lay around. He whispered words of magic. The box, glowed a deathly black and purple. Lifting the lid, there nestled in a blood red cushion was the

first blade. Made from the bone of a donkey’s jaw. Cain had once held it. And now, now it was for the mark bearer. He gripped it, pulling it from the box. Turning he walked back to Colt.• This is what you will use. You will find it will suit you. •offering it to Colt.• Now, you will get to see some very dear people. •chuckling• Oh to see their faces. You, Colt Winchester, are you to bathe in blood. Even the blood of your family. Unless of course they play nicely.

Colt - Keen eyes never left the demon, taking hold of the gruesome looking blade he felt a surge of power. But more prevalent was the desire to kill. The mention of “family” made him look back up at Crowley his face stoic. A dead man has no family.

Crowley - It much of a talker are you? •chuckles, oh it would priceless to see the faces of his family. When the time came.• Let us first leave a little mark on the world. •motioning him to follow.• There is a prophet. That is highly guarded. He has been such a throne in my side. he lives in New Orleans. Care to have a little fun? •smirks• We will go and find him. You, •points to him.• Are going to kill him, in the bloodiest way possible.

Colt - Falling into step beside him.- I’d be happy to oblige. What makes him hard to find? Is he hidden with magic?

Crowley - •nods as the walk back to throne room.• Yes, strong magic that most demons can’t get through. But you, are different from all other demons. He has a family, they will have to be killed as well. Don’t need them running off and telling now do we? You have to brake the through the wards. I might suspect that hunters might be guarding him as well. Those are another pain in my ass. If there are any there. Take them out as well. It will get back to the other hunters in time.

Colt - No witnesses. Understood.

Crowley - nods, with a smirk. Oh this was going to perfect. Getting back to the throne room. He picked up a file, handing it to Colt.• Here is what was able to be gathered on him. •it was a small thin file.• James Conrad, 38. New Orleans, LA. I’ve explained what I know. He lives just outside the city. Once you’re caught up. We will leave.

Colt - Colt listened but didn’t really give a shit. He could finally breathe without some bullshit theatrics. When emotions aren’t a factor anymore life becomes crystal fucking clear. He’d been an idiot for looking for Jake all these years. He’d been an idiot holding on to hope their family would be fixed or atleast somewhat together. Never again would he bother with him or his bullshit. He was beyond done. Maybe a little guilt was left getting Qhuinn involved. Although Qhuinn hadn’t taken no for an answer either, so the guilt wasn’t just his to bear. He disappeared only to reappear with Crowley outside the “prophets” home. As he let go of the shit from his human life he concentrated on the job in front of him. Clutching the blade he looked at the property. Head tilting to the side as he listened and felt the power radiating off the angels on the property.- There’s three. I’ll be back. -With that he tried to materialize right inside the house but they’d put up wards. He tried to push through the invisible wall but it made little difference. So he put his blade away and disappeared, this time he reappeared and held a woman he’d grabbed from the sidewalk in town.- Here little piggy... come out, come out wherever you are! -Colt held the blade to the bitches throat.- Come on you chicken shit douchebags, I’m gonna cut her throat and continue to cut throats till you assholes come out and we handle this face to face... -The woman struggled against his grasp, whimpering and completely fucking pathetic. He wanted to tell her she was absolutely freaking ridiculous but theatrics...- Five! Four! -The woman screamed begging to be let go. - Three! -A high pitched sound rang in Colt’s ears and thrill went down his spine. The blade ran across her throat and blood sprayed from her carotid artery.- Whoops, my bad! You guys really should come on out! She looks like a fish out of water! God doesn’t care and the angels are dick bags... -The woman dropped to the ground trying to stop the blood but to late because her heart was pumping faster now and the crimson spray was relieving her of the vital fluid. Colt listened, to her last gasps.- To late! I can do this all week! -Poofs, this time the local pastor.- Pastor, do you believe in god? Angels? -His eyes black as midnight.- “I do. Let me pray for, God can help you.” -Colt laughed with no true emotion at all.- Sorry, that boat has sailed. You’re going to die by my hand if the angels don’t appear. If they appear I et you go, if they don’t I’m going to use your intestines for early Christmas decorations on this tree right here.

Ethan - -Ethan had heard rumors that Colt had now become a full fledged demon and now he knows it’s true.

With a soft fluttering of wings, he appears a few feet away from him and a man begging for his life. There is a small trip of blood running *trail down the mans neck where the first blade had made a nick in his skin.-

Colt! Put that down! What has happened to you?

-Ethans voice is commanding and firm, although he is falling apart inside.-

Colt - Ohhh fuckin' heaven does have a sense of humor. -Pat's the pastor on top of the head and shoves him away.- This isn't your fight big guy... and I'd -Starting to circle Ethan.- take a fuckin' vacation for awhile. Consider it some good advice from an old friend. -Jerks a thumb towards the house.- See some of your kin is inside and they're pissing me off. I have a job to do. So bug out or tell the rest of them to hand over the prophet... but either way I'm going to kill them all. If they cooperate I promise to make it fast and painless if not... I'm k ill em' -voice-changing to a more demonic tone.- slowly. I like the screams... I hope they fight back. -Smirks-

Ethan - -Ethan glances over at the pastor who is making a fast getaway, running down the street. Satisfied, he turns his attention back to the demon who has taken over Colt who is circling around him. Ethan crosses his arms across his chest-

Frankly, I’m not impressed. I don’t think You can get inside or you you’d already have done it.

How about you nix the badass routine and we sit down and figure shit out?

-Ethan knows he’s wasting his time, but he feels like he’s gotta try.-

Colt - -Laughs- Matter of time, the body count will rise or I'll bust through this magic. I bet I can drag a witch out here to help. It's cute you're trying to stop me. -Moves closer.- Are you hard? Cause I am. Reminds me of all those fights. I don't want to kill you, no I want you to live. -Throws the blade and buries the tip in the ground.- But the question is how far will you go? I have a lot of clarity nowadays. Not burdened with that fucking heart-wrenching love for your ass. It's amazing how liberating being a demon is. -In reach, he looks up at him.- I've not broken anymore, this is me free of all that bullshit. You'd look so fucking hot in chains... wouldn't have to deal with the bitch version of my whining. I can see why you left, no hard feelings. Hell, I'd have left me too.

Ethan - You sure are a mouthy motherfucker aren’t you? I bet you even like to talk to yourself just to hear yourself talk. -shakes his head, not letting the demon get into his head. Eyeing the knife in the ground knowing its part of his strength-

Colt - -Laughs- You like my mouth.... go ahead, try it. You fastest Ethan? I don't think you are and if you're not careful I'll have to cut your throat, drain your grace.... Now there's an idea, Ethan, human just like Andrew had been. -Shoves him back.- Remember that night on the beach all romantic, just us. Well an Andrew... did you feel betrayed your vessel wanted me too? Cause you my deal angel have always been one jealous fucker. His whimpers were softer than yours... I guess that's where we got our tastes for threesomes huh? Andrew watching and feeling what we did to eachother.

Ethan - -Ethan is usually pretty chilled, but the demon’s words cut deep. Without thinking, he balled his fist and hit him hard with a right hook.- Shut the fuck up. Andrew is not a topic you can speak of.

-He’s working on a plan and is buying some time.-

Colt - -The angel wasn't using everything he had yet and Colt's spit blood from his mouth as he picked himself up off the ground and cracked his neck.- Why? Jealous? I always did like the tender, needy fuckers. I mean look at Jake. But you, you Ethan where on a whole other level, under all that bravado is a broken angel... so fucking sweet I could mmmm savor that forever... -Using his abilities appears behind him and throws an arm around his neck tightening down his hold.- Should we go somewhere private? So you don't have to act this way for your kin inside? See, they know I'll fucking kill them so they're hiding like the bitches they are and they're not gonna shed a tear if I put you down. Join us. We can rule this mutherfucker together. Come on baby... you know you like the dark side. -Licks his earlobe.-

Ethan - You have no damn idea what you’re talking about. So...how about you shut the fuck up. -vanishes from his grasp to appear in front of him.-

I’m giving you one more chance to end this peacefully. I’m tired of talking. -He stands as a warrior. He is the angel of strength and he’s going to show him why very damn soon.-

Colt - Peacefully? You’re a prude Ethan, I don’t want to be saved. -Baring teeth he lunged at the angel tackling to the ground. Colt began whaling on him. He was out for blood, the power of the blade was so strong and he held so much pain inside. And this angel represented a life he

[kittenshift-17]

Drowning

*sigh*

I KNEW someone would say something when I posted a new fic. Readers can't resist dumping on an author and making them feel like dirt.

I'm frankly offended at the notion that I "don't update the stories I already have out there often enough." I update across more stories with more frequency than almost every other author out there. The first chapter of Tethered was my 113th update since my birthday in January. I've updated, roughly, 120 times this year to date. That's an average of 13.5 times a month. Most authors barely manage to update once or twice a month. I update plenty. They fact that I have several WIPs and try to juggle them all at once means that some do have long stints between updates, but they nonetheless DO all get updated. Out of the 48 fics I've currently shared, only 3 of those currently marked as WIPs haven't been updated this year.

As for losing inspriation, the answer is yes. I tend to find an idea, run with an idea, write it out to a certain point, and then get distracted. Sometimes it's a lack of interest in the direction the plot takes. Sometimes it's an abundance of pressure from readers nagging me for more when I get to the point where everything I'd prewritten is gone and I'm updating chapter by chapter and I get people PMing me asking if I've "abandoned the story", and "why I'm so shit" and "why am I not updating every single second" because instant gratification is something readers have come to expect despite the fact that writing out the chapters takes time. Sometimes it's a lack of focus or the time to actually write about the epic length novels all of them will likely, eventually be.

If I could write them all in 50k words like I did for "Bewitch, Ensnare" I'd be thrilled. But I can't, and I don't, and it's either share what I have and prove that just because I haven't updated a favourite of any given reader in a while, doesn't mean I've abandoned fanfic or given up on writing or am holding chapters hostage hoping for more reviews. Sometimes I just can't be bloody bothered to work on the story that particular day or I get to a bit that's hard to write because the scene makes me uncomfortable or the plot turns in a direction I don't like and so I work on something else for a while.

As a reader, I empathize with my own fans knowing that waiting for more on something I really like is frustrating. But as a writer I know that 5000 words don't just fall out of my fingers every single second and real life sometimes means having to go to work, and having to make money and buy food and see friends and suffer through family dinners. And since they haven't yet shared the technology with the populous that let's people just think a story into existence rather than needing to bother with all this infernal typing, I have to find the time and the energy to work on something and when I've got people breathing down my neck screaming for more it doesn't encourage me. It upsets me and I start to sweat and I know that if it's not at least 5k long every bloody chapter and nothing of consequence happens I'll be accused of writing filler chapters and I'll be told I wasted a chapter and told how disappointed everyone is because it's not fucking good enough and then I get upset and to feel better I work on something else. Something I haven't shared and something no one is going to make me feel like shit over.

And then I post that thing when it's going really well because, hey, it worked with Bewitch, Ensnare and maybe it'll happen again, and it's a never ending cycle and in short, I don't like being reminded by readers that "Hey, you're great but fuck you for not finishing this thing I love. Let me make sure you know what a shit-cunt you are by emailing you and reminding you that all that effort you've already put in means fuck all because I want MORE! NOW! What's taking so long? Gods, you're such a loser and a flake and I'm not reading you anymore until you finish things because I hate the wait and don't like being let down by such a failure. Fuck you."

But readers don't see it that way. They just see it as "politely" inquiring as though an author hasn't been asked the same questions a hundred times already and think, "Well, someone SHOULD say something. It'll make her write faster." But it doesn't. It makes me mad and it makes me cry and it makes me want to say fuck all y'all and delete everything I've ever written before hiding in my bedroom and watching too much Outlander to be healthy and writing fanfics I'll never share because if I pop my head up ever again SOMEONE will be there with a whack-bat to remind me that I never finished that thing they liked.

In short, yes. I lose inspiration. I get swamped by nerves and bad feelings over this thing that's supposed to be fun for me and the solution, one might think, would be to not publish things until their finished, but I tried that too and I quit writing fanfiction for an entire year, so it doesn't work and I won't be doing it. And so I update whatever strikes my fancy enough to get some chapters written and I put up with the nagging and the abuse and the "But... you're shit for not posting as soon as I'm ready to read more" and I bitch to my author friends about how being nagged is a nightmare and I know that if I mention this message to them they'll empathize with me and talk about how readers are ungrateful and at least one will say "Yeah, but you KNEW that would happen if you posted a new fic." And I did know. As soon as I saw that I had a PM sitting in my inbox, I KNEW it would be in complaint over starting something new with so much old still incomplete.

And all I can do is shrug and say "Thanks for thinking my writing's spectacular." And I'll quietly go back to my keyboard for my fics and I'll stare at the screen awhile and mutter to myself about showing everyone about how I "Don't update enough" even though I'm already killing myself and using every spare minute to post as much as I do. Literally. I write my fics on my lunch break and my toilet breaks at work. I write them on the bus. I write them in the car when someone else is driving me to some event I don't want to attend all to stave off messages like this one, and then the messages come, just the same. And so I'll probably start another new fic I haven't shared yet, because Lord knows the pressure for the shared ones is like never-ending heartburn, and the cycle will start over and next week I'll have someone else complaining that I don't update often enough and that I should finish what I start.

And to you, as you read this, this will seem like an overreaction and "Woah, she's bitching me out" but the fact is that no one gets how goddamn hard it is to meet the demand of readers when they're so frequently ungrateful. And I know that there are those among my fans that I adore who read and review everything I write and who assure me that they'll wait because they love me and they GET IT, but there are so many who don't that I'm drowning, and I'm not alone. All us authors are here, drowning, and we can't save each other and we can't save ourselves unless we pull ourselves from these Grindylow infested waters and never stray from the shore again, but we're brave and we keep trying to tread water and the waves keep coming and gods, we need to catch a breath, but even that will feel like "have you abandoned this?" and I'm sorry, but a "Yay for the new fic" wouldn't have killed you, but this "I want more of that other thing you didn't finish yet" just might kill me.

xx-Kitten

[hexiewrites]

you can’t take the sky from me: ch 3 - war stories

a/n: <3 yall just blow me away. much love as always to @nymphadoraholtzmann - my talented and beautiful beta. and happy early birthday to the brilliant @provocative-envy - thank you for dragging me down to rare pair hell, and for helping me fall so deeply in love with pansy parkinson somedays I wonder if I’ll ever be over it (spoiler: I won't). to everyone else reading this: ..... sorry???

tagging: @flintwoodandco @olivieblake @blood-and-death-will-fall @newt-scxmander @ff-sunset-oasis @habababa @scremereel (let me know if you want to be added to the tags list for future updates!)

(read this chapter [& all the rest!] on ao3!)

Percy came back, at some point. Pansy had no conception of time and frankly no real drive to figure it out. She had a vague idea of where she was picked up and figured that no matter how fast this ship could travel, it would probably take them more than a week to get her back to the place that had once been her home.

Her own personal hellhole.

Frankly, Pansy had a vague plan of going on a hunger strike or something, trying to make a point. If she died, that wouldn’t look great on the crew, nor would it matter to her - home was more or less the same thing. Especially with the added bonus of whatever punishment her father deemed suitable for her vanishing act.

Only, Percy came back with food. That actually smelled like food, not the mostly-stale stolen Ministry rations that she’d been eating for months. Real, normal, delicious smelling food. Delicious looking, too. And Percy had simply sat down on one side of the barrier - on the floor - and placed the food where she could reach it.

Pansy waited for him to leave.

He didn’t.

Finally, Pansy caved and took the food, moving to sit on the other side of the room while she ate.

It was incredible.

(keep reading on ao3!)

Percy came every meal for two days before Pansy finally caved.

“Who sent you?” she demanded, dropping down to sit on the floor across from him. She could feel the scowl pulling at her forehead and hoped she looked like as much of a bitch as she felt. She wanted to throw him off, to make him react, to see a crack in that perfect stoic facade.

Percy simply raised an eyebrow at her. How someone could look so dignified sitting on the floor of a spaceship, Pansy wasn’t sure she’d ever know. “Sent me?”

Pansy resisted the urge to whine. “Obviously. You didn’t just choose to come sit out all your meals here with the prisoner.”

“And what if I did?”

Pansy rolled her eyes at this. “Than you’re a bigger idiot than I had you pegged for.”

Percy didn’t respond, but his eyes danced in that strange way again and she wondered, for not the first time, whether it was laughter or a trick of the light.

The silence stretched and finally, Pansy couldn’t help herself. “Is your brother as big of an idiot as you are?” she questioned.

Percy’s shoulders stiffened, almost imperceptibly, but Pansy felt a quick rush of thrill for noticing it. In an odd way, he was almost like an engine himself. Little pieces that fit together, she just couldn’t see them all yet. This felt like one of them.

“Pardon?” his voice was strained - again, by so little that she would have missed it, if she hadn’t spent the last two days watching him intensely while pretending not to notice he was there.

“Your brother?” she pressed, then had a thought. “The mechanic? What’s his name? Bron?”

Percy’s shoulders sagged - something like a breath of relief rushed out of him and Pansy only just contained her grin, filing away the idea that he had more than one brother, and that there was something important about one of them. Something that would set him on edge.

“Ron,” Percy filled in, almost automatically. And then frowned. “Why do you ask?”

Pansy shrugged one shoulder, carefully walking the line between casual indifference and a piece of important information. “No real reason. Just that he should probably take a look at the engine balance and check up on the couplings in the warp drive. I’d focus on the one between the combustion chamber and the scrubber, myself.”

Percy paused, and leaned back slightly, clearly surprised by this observation. “And why do you say that?”

Interesting. He wasn’t laughing or dismissing her entirely, instead he was simply watching her as though she was a puzzle he was still trying to figure out the picture for. Pansy wasn’t sure she liked it, but she didn’t hate it either.

“Well,” she began, wondering if he was serious, wondering if he was as smart as she figured him to be, how much she’d need to dumb this down for him. “It might be nothing, but. If you pay attention the next time we kick in or out of warp… just really pay attention - close your eyes, listen to the ship. Maybe that’s just how she sounds. Or, maybe the engine isn’t entirely on center, and it’s starting to strip the coupling just a little bit. Which isn’t a problem.”

Percy raised an eyebrow, and Pansy once again suppressed a grin. Definitely smart.

“At least, not a problem until your entire engine goes. Not a big go. Just a little. Try to shift into warp and the next thing you know you’re dead in the water. You know how warp drives work, right?” Percy shrugged noncommittally and Pansy nearly rolled her eyes. “All I’m saying is he should take a look at the engine, last thing you need in your ship is a bunch of corrosive gas, never know what that’ll fuck up first.” Pansy licked her lips, then decided to go for it. “And if he’s too stupid to notice the problem, he should take it planetside sooner rather than later.”

“Ron believes that you want us to make a stop so that you can signal your crew.”

Pansy hummed softly in response. She didn’t move from her position, lying down on her cot, but she had heard his soft footfalls and the telltale noise of him sliding the plate across the floor towards her.

“The classic ‘damsel in distress,’” Pansy finally said, turning her head towards where she knew Percy was sitting. “Not an entirely bad move, though I’m sure you’ll already know that the Ministry captured my entire crew and they’re probably all awaiting very biased trials on Diagon right now.”

Pansy hadn’t said the words out loud yet, and her stomach sunk as she verbalized them. She’d been pretending, until now, that her crew was fine. That Draco and Theo had sweet talked their way out of whatever the problem was, and that they were now on their way to the agreed upon rendezvous spot to pick her up. She had been pretending she didn’t hear a gunshot, and pretending that she didn’t know the prices on each of their heads.

Percy was silent as well, and Pansy sighed in resignation. “Did he look?” she finally asked.

“I am not aware. He claims that he did, and that you’re making this ‘problem’ up to trick us into, in his words, letting you out.”

Pansy finally forced her eyes open. Percy was sideways in her vision but just as she was used to seeing him. Sitting on the floor, across from her food, watching her. “What do you think?”

It was Percy’s turn to pause, and then carefully shrug. “I’m not a mechanic,” he began, raising a brow as if to say - seems like you might be.

“But?” Pansy pushed, propping herself up on her elbows to look at him, raising her brows expectantly.

“Again, I’m not sure,” Percy said, simply. “I’ve never really paid attention to how the ship feels when it warps.” The unspoken words were that he was too busy with other things. Most people were. If you grew up your whole life on or around ships, warping became so common it was almost like breathing - despite how strange it was in practice. Most people tuned out the oddities, and didn’t notice when things started to go wrong. Pansy, of course, was the person who was paid to notice exactly when they did.

Pansy huffed and dropped back to the bed, crossing her arms across her chest once again. She knew she probably looked like a moody child - she felt like one, that was for sure - but she didn’t care. “Not like I give a shit about your stupid ship anyways,” she murmured.

Percy didn’t react.

He never reacted.

Finally, she decided she couldn’t handle him sitting there anymore, and she snapped her head around towards him. He was so fucking stoic and solid and it was starting to drive her absolutely insane.

“Can you do us all a favour and just leave me the fuck alone?” she snapped. “I don’t want to eat your fucking pity food today and I don’t want to look at your stupid face.”

Percy stood, but didn’t move, and Pansy was an inch away from snapping at him before he spoke again.

“We looked you up, you know. Well, your ship. The Death Adder. Interesting choice of a name.”

Pansy huffed. Draco’s stupid name. Only because she had absolutely refused to let him call the damn thing The Flying Snake.

She could remember the argument like it was yesterday. ‘I bought the ship, Parkinson, I can call it whatever I please!’

‘If you want me to keep your dumb fucking piece of shit ship in the air like I’ve been doing for months, then you’re going to listen to me for once in your life!’

He’d called her a terror and a menace and a bitch - and he’d named the ship The Death Adder. Marginally better than The Flying Snake, at least.

Pansy didn’t react, even though Percy was clearly trying to pluck at something. “You were at a fight we were at, a few years ago. Near that old colony that The Knights blew up.”

Pansy couldn’t help herself, she exhaled. “Hogwarts,” she murmured, and her heart lurched with the memories. Smoke, and so many ships. So hard to tell what was happening. They shouldn’t have been there.

Percy nodded once, tersely. “Yes. My brother is… convinced, shall I say, that our ships got into a bit of an… altercation. That you nearly killed our pilot.”

Her breath stuck in her throat as the memories that she had tried so hard to forget rushed back. They shouldn’t have been there at all, but Blaise had been so convinced they’d find good loot. ‘They won’t need it, Pans, they’ll be dead!’

Pansy’s heart lurched at the thought of him, smooth dark skin and a smile that could disarm anyone. That did disarm anyone. Blaise, the whole stupid reason she was even here. The whole reason she had ever made it off her own damn planet. It only seemed fitting, in the worst possible way, that she would have to face him again now that she was being sent back.

She swallowed down a lump and glanced up at Percy, finally. She was so ready to be angry and something in his stance shook that from her. “Your pilot,” she mumbled, trying to remember. There were so many, there had been so many that night.

“Dark haired kid, green eyes. Rather unforgettable, really. The Knights had come out to the edges - no one noticed. We were all down on the colony, trying to help. There was a big school there, did you know that? All those kids…”

Pansy nodded, almost dumbly. Draco had been so stupid. They’d been jumping from ship to ship, trying to get in and get out and get what was valuable before someone noticed them. And then they’d started ending up on ships with people who were injured, people who were dead. And Draco had said it was too late. Not worth helping.

And then there was him. Pansy knew exactly who Percy meant. So hard not to forget - he was just a kid, really, sprawled out across the deck with blood pouring from his face. And Blaise had shook his head and said it would be kinder to put the kid out of his misery, and lifted his gun.

But Blaise hadn’t hit the target, because someone else had hit him first. A flash of red, Draco dragging them back as fast as he could. And then, the blood. All over one stupid fucking kid, and her best friend, her everything was dead.

“Well,” Pansy said, her voice too quiet, too careful. Even Percy could tell he had hit something, and his defensive stance seemed to falter slightly under her solid stare. “Your brother killed the only person that’s ever mattered to me. I bet he sleeps like a fucking baby at night, thinking he was on the right side. He killed a good man, Percy. So I’m sorry if I don’t want to deal with his little grudge.”

Percy nodded once, and then turned to leave.

“Listen to me or don’t,” Pansy added, lifting a hand to cover her eyes, to try and stop the screaming and the chaos, to try and block out Blaise blinking up at her and smiling that stupid fucking smile, like everything was going to be okay again. “But if your ship falls apart around us, don’t come crying to me.”

[adambstingus]

‘Are You The One?’ Recap: Malcolm, Go Back To Your Home On Whore Island

The worst/best show on television is back and lucky for you, the worst/best recapper you know is back too. You’re welcome.

TBH I was heavily considering not recapping this show because I was thinking about living my life and stuff, but then I saw this shit show of a cast (and also how bad the Bachelor is) and I just knew in the dark pits of my soul that I couldn’t let this show go.

LET’S BEGIN NOW

First major change—they are in New Orleans now. Probably a good thing. They weren’t getting too much variety in the Dominican Republic. You can only play with monkeys so many times until you’re like “so, where are the buildings with electricity?”

Also, Terrence J is the new host. RIP to the best father figure most of the contestants ever had, Ryan Devlin.

Let’s review some of the dumb things we learned/that were said during introductions to everyone:

TYLER: “I told her that I was okay with her hooking up with another guy and I wasn’t!” Cool story, Hansel.

UCHE: “I’m with all these guys I’m not supposed to be with! Football players, rappers, all the cool guys.” That’s a weird way of saying you’re a fuckin’ loser.

KEYANA: “I want to be everywhere with my boyfriend. I want to wear a vile of his blood around my neck and drink from it from time to time. What.” (paraphrase)

JOE’S MOM: “My son brings home idiots, which is amazing because he sells pot for a living and it shocks me that Harvard grads aren’t lining up to date him.”

NICOLE: “I’m trapped in this hookup culture!!!” She acts like she’s been kidnapped in a third world country rather than being asked for dick pics.

KAREEM: “Where I’m from, don’t nobody ever touch a million dollars.” Yeah, they clearly don’t read books or attend basic English classes either.

MICHAEL: “I get like 25-50 DM’s from girls a day wanting to date me. None of them speak English though, so lo siento bitches, no dates for you.” Also, Mike, they are all probs like 14. Judging from the acne on your face, you probably are too.

FIRST CHALLENGE

Terrence J shows the girls something the boys find important and the girls have to raise their hands if it’s important to them too. Moderate Instagram fame has to be on this list.

First is football. Audrey raises her hand and she’s like “Why do I like football? Why do I not like football?! I love football!!!”

AUDREY DURING FOOTBALL GAMES: 


Football was Malcolm’s pick and he’s like “I love football because that’s the only reason my dad loves me” and the girls are all like “AW THAT’S SO SWEET!” Nothing moisturizes the kitty like deep-rooted familial issues, amirite.

Next is the piano, and Keyana is like “I like music!” while the rest of the girls apparently prefer silence? Her match is Ethan, the guy who looks like Rob Dyrdek if he ate Rob Dyrdek. He’s very excited to go on his first date ever and is just itching to call his mom and tell her all about it.

Turns out he’s a rapper. Fuck. There is always one “rapper” every season and they are almost always bordering on albino.

ETHAN: “E-Money gets the girls, but Ethan doesn’t.” How many of you are there?

REAL PICTURE OF ETHAN:

Next picture is some religious stuff and the girls are like “I only go down on my knees for one thing, and it ain’t our lord and savior.” Too bad—it was Clinton’s pick and he’s a fine-ass mother fucker. Jesus wept making that fine specimen and that should tell you something, since I’m a Jew.

Next picture is a condom and Jada is like “HEEEEEEEEEEY.”

JADA’S ROLE ON THIS SHOW:

Chad is the one that picked a condom and he’s like “yeah, I like sex, so what?” Chad reminds me of the guy you tell your sorority little to avoid at frat parties.

CHAD: “Look at me, I’m the Chad!” I’M SORRY, unless you are Tom Green yelling to Drew Barrymore from a boat, you are not the fuckin’ Chad!!! Wait, is his name Shad? THAT IS EVEN WORSE.

Anyways, all the couples are going on a date. Thrilling.

ON TO THE HOUSE

Of course it’s time for shots and more introductions.

ZOE: “Guys don’t like me, they just want to wear my thighs as earmuffs.” Oddly specific but ok.

JOE: “I was raised a Jehovah’s Witness and so far the only thing I have ever witnessed is me still being a virgin”

Joe’s going to be that castmate that I can’t tell is hot. He always looks like he is squinting into the sun but I would def let him in if he came knocking on my door wanting to sell a bible.

Keyana immediately tells Michael that she follows him on Instagram and he’s like “very cool, do you speak English?” Also, Keyana do you need to refill your shitty beer? Because you look fucking THIRSTY.

Ethan is already hating himself and saying that he’s going to sit in a corner all season and now I’m just upset. No one puts Ethan in a corner!

KEYANA: So you wear a shoe on each foot?


MIKE: Yeah


KEYANA: omg so do I. Let’s get married.

Uche and Chocolate Jesus (Clinton’s new nickname for the season—CJ) are def hitting it off.

CLINTON: “Girls tell me they love me on social media, but it’s like, I’m a person. Do you ever think there is more to life than being really, really ridiculously good looking?”

Malcolm and every girl in the house start flirting. So that’s that.

MALCOLM: “I have ladies every day of the week. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday…. The other days. You get it.”

He meets Diandra, who is wearing hoops so big that the Kardashian family is in awe. She’s like “if I start calling you Papi, I’m interested.” Good thing it sounds sexy in Spanish. If I started calling dudes “Daddy” they would immediately refer me to a therapist.

Keith and Alexis start bonding over lung disease and her possibly incestuous ways.

ALEXIS: So you have your cousins, and then your first cousins, and your cousins with teeth. They are all fair fucking game.

Apparently Alexis is trying to rid herself of the redneck stereotype but it’s hard to take her seriously when she’s downing Bud Light one second and chain smoking cigarettes the next.

Keith is like “you should stop smoking. How about every time you smoke I spank you?” Is this a Narcotics Anonymous-approved method of prevention? Also, Keith and Alexis look like the perfect Trump-voting couple.

KEITH: “How about every time you mention building the wall I smack my own ass, yeehaw.”

Theeeeennnn they start making out and talking about butt stuff, as one does 30 minutes after meeting someone. Off to the boom room they go to make more babies that Alexis’ cousin can possibly fuck.

Keith apparently rocks Alexis’ world and he’s like “yeah I have pretty good reviews on Yelp.” Which is a place for businesses so congrats, you’re an escort.

Michael and Keyana take the first shower makeout scene for me. She’s like “I’ve never met someone who asks me about myself” and it’s like, well how do you usually meet people? Does no one ask you, like, what your name is?

THE DATE


MTV has decided to get as close as possible to killing one of these cast members and takes them to a bar as their date. We’re really pushing these livers to the limit here.

Ethan is trying to make small talk with Keyana and she is acting like she would rather be lit on fire than be a kind of nice person to an overall really nice guy. He eventually is like “I get it, you like Michael.” And I swear to god she breathes a sigh of relief.

She says he “asked about her and he actually cared” and it’s like, really? It had nothing to do with the alcohol and fact that your hand was down his pants most of the time?

They are presented with booze and a jazz band comes in. They’re like “what are the odds you get shit faced and listen to jazz in New Orleans?!”

Audrey and Malcolm are hanging out and she’s like “you’re a player, I can tell” and he’s like “I’m 25 now! I’m serious now!” he says as he chugs alcohol on a reality show on national television.

He claims he isn’t a player anymore because a “female” cheated on him once and it hurt. Boo, sad story. Anyone who calls a girl a female is a hard no from me.

AUDREY: I hope he ends up being different then the guy I know he is and always has been.

BACK AT THE HOUSE


The house is debating who to put in the Truth Booth and Diandra is like “Malcolm looks like Trey Songz!” (which he does) and Nurys is like “YOU JUST WANNA FUCK HIM DON’T YOU?!” Okay there, I’m gonna need to you to pop a quick Xanax and take a lap for a second.

Nurys is like “I am a hugely aggressive girl for literally no reason and sometimes people don’t like me for that.” Hmm, wonder why.

TRUTH BOOTH

Ethan and Keyana go to the Truth Booth and Keyana is looking for the nearest knife to stick in her neck. She heard Mike has a neck fetish, so yeah.

Ethan and Keyana are like “we get it, we’re not compatible” and Keyana is thinking of getting it tattooed on her body. Let’s remember, they were voted in because they “both like music” which we all know, is a true stepping stone to a love connection.

Of course, they get a no match BUT that’s not the worst part of this whole thing. The WORST part is Keyana acting like a straight-up fucking bitch when they get a no match. I get it, you like Michael and you want to have his vanilla-ass babies so they can surf into the sunset and live a life full of missionary sex, HOWEVER you did not need to be like “YES, I’M PARTYING TONIGHT BECAUSE WE’RE NOT A MATCH!!!”

That’s not a paraphrase made by me, that’s a quote and frankly, it’s a fucked up one. And that’s coming from a fucked up person.

Ethan’s like “I’ve never seen someone so excited to get away from me” and I think every single person watching (aka me and 15 people who read this recap) were either a) about to cry for this actual nice guy or b) so fucking annoyed with Keyana for acting like she’s soooo much better than him. Anyone with a chest tattoo is not at the liberty to belittle people. That is a job strictly reserved for me. Now that we got that lecture out of the way…

OTHER STUFF

Ethan starts downing red wine and freestyle rapping. Aka me on any given night.

They start playing a game of sexy truth or dare, because they are original like that.

Malcolm and Diandre make out, Clinton and Uche make out, Michael licks Keyana, it’s all pretty generic.

Shad or Chad or whatever his fucking name is asks Alexis to kiss everyone in the house and she’s like okay and says “mama didn’t raise no bitch.” Incredible. I want that on a cross stitch. She proceeds to make out with everyone. Just like her mama intended.

KEITH: “She’s a little wild and idk if I trust her.” Really? This is the hard line for you? Not when she implied that she fucks her cousins?

Geles and Michael bond over the fact that they have large Hispanic families and it’s like, who is going to send me some tamales? Hit me up.

Nurys is getting pissed because DD (Diandre) is still talking to Malcolm when she likes him. She’s like “DD is obviously insecure!” and it’s like, hmmm okay sweetie.

Second shower makeout session goes to DD and Malcolm. Really? Now it’s just getting cliché. Isn’t there a closet you can take this to?

Of course, the moment DD goes to sleep Nurys is like DGAF and her and Malcolm start making out. DAMN. Okay. That’s how it’s gonna be. Then he hops back into bed with DD.

MALCOLM: I’m not a player. I promise I’m not a player.

Okay, Big Pun. Anyway, see you all next week.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/are-you-the-one-recap-malcolm-go-back-to-your-home-on-whore-island/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/180768851792

[allofbeercom]

‘Are You The One?’ Recap: Malcolm, Go Back To Your Home On Whore Island

The worst/best show on television is back and lucky for you, the worst/best recapper you know is back too. You’re welcome.

TBH I was heavily considering not recapping this show because I was thinking about living my life and stuff, but then I saw this shit show of a cast (and also how bad the Bachelor is) and I just knew in the dark pits of my soul that I couldn’t let this show go.

LET’S BEGIN NOW

First major change—they are in New Orleans now. Probably a good thing. They weren’t getting too much variety in the Dominican Republic. You can only play with monkeys so many times until you’re like “so, where are the buildings with electricity?”

Also, Terrence J is the new host. RIP to the best father figure most of the contestants ever had, Ryan Devlin.

Let’s review some of the dumb things we learned/that were said during introductions to everyone:

TYLER: “I told her that I was okay with her hooking up with another guy and I wasn’t!” Cool story, Hansel.

UCHE: “I’m with all these guys I’m not supposed to be with! Football players, rappers, all the cool guys.” That’s a weird way of saying you’re a fuckin’ loser.

KEYANA: “I want to be everywhere with my boyfriend. I want to wear a vile of his blood around my neck and drink from it from time to time. What.” (paraphrase)

JOE’S MOM: “My son brings home idiots, which is amazing because he sells pot for a living and it shocks me that Harvard grads aren’t lining up to date him.”

NICOLE: “I’m trapped in this hookup culture!!!” She acts like she’s been kidnapped in a third world country rather than being asked for dick pics.

KAREEM: “Where I’m from, don’t nobody ever touch a million dollars.” Yeah, they clearly don’t read books or attend basic English classes either.

MICHAEL: “I get like 25-50 DM’s from girls a day wanting to date me. None of them speak English though, so lo siento bitches, no dates for you.” Also, Mike, they are all probs like 14. Judging from the acne on your face, you probably are too.

FIRST CHALLENGE

Terrence J shows the girls something the boys find important and the girls have to raise their hands if it’s important to them too. Moderate Instagram fame has to be on this list.

First is football. Audrey raises her hand and she’s like “Why do I like football? Why do I not like football?! I love football!!!”

AUDREY DURING FOOTBALL GAMES: 


Football was Malcolm’s pick and he’s like “I love football because that’s the only reason my dad loves me” and the girls are all like “AW THAT’S SO SWEET!” Nothing moisturizes the kitty like deep-rooted familial issues, amirite.

Next is the piano, and Keyana is like “I like music!” while the rest of the girls apparently prefer silence? Her match is Ethan, the guy who looks like Rob Dyrdek if he ate Rob Dyrdek. He’s very excited to go on his first date ever and is just itching to call his mom and tell her all about it.

Turns out he’s a rapper. Fuck. There is always one “rapper” every season and they are almost always bordering on albino.

ETHAN: “E-Money gets the girls, but Ethan doesn’t.” How many of you are there?

REAL PICTURE OF ETHAN:

Next picture is some religious stuff and the girls are like “I only go down on my knees for one thing, and it ain’t our lord and savior.” Too bad—it was Clinton’s pick and he’s a fine-ass mother fucker. Jesus wept making that fine specimen and that should tell you something, since I’m a Jew.

Next picture is a condom and Jada is like “HEEEEEEEEEEY.”

JADA’S ROLE ON THIS SHOW:

Chad is the one that picked a condom and he’s like “yeah, I like sex, so what?” Chad reminds me of the guy you tell your sorority little to avoid at frat parties.

CHAD: “Look at me, I’m the Chad!” I’M SORRY, unless you are Tom Green yelling to Drew Barrymore from a boat, you are not the fuckin’ Chad!!! Wait, is his name Shad? THAT IS EVEN WORSE.

Anyways, all the couples are going on a date. Thrilling.

ON TO THE HOUSE

Of course it’s time for shots and more introductions.

ZOE: “Guys don’t like me, they just want to wear my thighs as earmuffs.” Oddly specific but ok.

JOE: “I was raised a Jehovah’s Witness and so far the only thing I have ever witnessed is me still being a virgin”

Joe’s going to be that castmate that I can’t tell is hot. He always looks like he is squinting into the sun but I would def let him in if he came knocking on my door wanting to sell a bible.

Keyana immediately tells Michael that she follows him on Instagram and he’s like “very cool, do you speak English?” Also, Keyana do you need to refill your shitty beer? Because you look fucking THIRSTY.

Ethan is already hating himself and saying that he’s going to sit in a corner all season and now I’m just upset. No one puts Ethan in a corner!

KEYANA: So you wear a shoe on each foot?


MIKE: Yeah


KEYANA: omg so do I. Let’s get married.

Uche and Chocolate Jesus (Clinton’s new nickname for the season—CJ) are def hitting it off.

CLINTON: “Girls tell me they love me on social media, but it’s like, I’m a person. Do you ever think there is more to life than being really, really ridiculously good looking?”

Malcolm and every girl in the house start flirting. So that’s that.

MALCOLM: “I have ladies every day of the week. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday…. The other days. You get it.”

He meets Diandra, who is wearing hoops so big that the Kardashian family is in awe. She’s like “if I start calling you Papi, I’m interested.” Good thing it sounds sexy in Spanish. If I started calling dudes “Daddy” they would immediately refer me to a therapist.

Keith and Alexis start bonding over lung disease and her possibly incestuous ways.

ALEXIS: So you have your cousins, and then your first cousins, and your cousins with teeth. They are all fair fucking game.

Apparently Alexis is trying to rid herself of the redneck stereotype but it’s hard to take her seriously when she’s downing Bud Light one second and chain smoking cigarettes the next.

Keith is like “you should stop smoking. How about every time you smoke I spank you?” Is this a Narcotics Anonymous-approved method of prevention? Also, Keith and Alexis look like the perfect Trump-voting couple.

KEITH: “How about every time you mention building the wall I smack my own ass, yeehaw.”

Theeeeennnn they start making out and talking about butt stuff, as one does 30 minutes after meeting someone. Off to the boom room they go to make more babies that Alexis’ cousin can possibly fuck.

Keith apparently rocks Alexis’ world and he’s like “yeah I have pretty good reviews on Yelp.” Which is a place for businesses so congrats, you’re an escort.

Michael and Keyana take the first shower makeout scene for me. She’s like “I’ve never met someone who asks me about myself” and it’s like, well how do you usually meet people? Does no one ask you, like, what your name is?

THE DATE


MTV has decided to get as close as possible to killing one of these cast members and takes them to a bar as their date. We’re really pushing these livers to the limit here.

Ethan is trying to make small talk with Keyana and she is acting like she would rather be lit on fire than be a kind of nice person to an overall really nice guy. He eventually is like “I get it, you like Michael.” And I swear to god she breathes a sigh of relief.

She says he “asked about her and he actually cared” and it’s like, really? It had nothing to do with the alcohol and fact that your hand was down his pants most of the time?

They are presented with booze and a jazz band comes in. They’re like “what are the odds you get shit faced and listen to jazz in New Orleans?!”

Audrey and Malcolm are hanging out and she’s like “you’re a player, I can tell” and he’s like “I’m 25 now! I’m serious now!” he says as he chugs alcohol on a reality show on national television.

He claims he isn’t a player anymore because a “female” cheated on him once and it hurt. Boo, sad story. Anyone who calls a girl a female is a hard no from me.

AUDREY: I hope he ends up being different then the guy I know he is and always has been.

BACK AT THE HOUSE


The house is debating who to put in the Truth Booth and Diandra is like “Malcolm looks like Trey Songz!” (which he does) and Nurys is like “YOU JUST WANNA FUCK HIM DON’T YOU?!” Okay there, I’m gonna need to you to pop a quick Xanax and take a lap for a second.

Nurys is like “I am a hugely aggressive girl for literally no reason and sometimes people don’t like me for that.” Hmm, wonder why.

TRUTH BOOTH

Ethan and Keyana go to the Truth Booth and Keyana is looking for the nearest knife to stick in her neck. She heard Mike has a neck fetish, so yeah.

Ethan and Keyana are like “we get it, we’re not compatible” and Keyana is thinking of getting it tattooed on her body. Let’s remember, they were voted in because they “both like music” which we all know, is a true stepping stone to a love connection.

Of course, they get a no match BUT that’s not the worst part of this whole thing. The WORST part is Keyana acting like a straight-up fucking bitch when they get a no match. I get it, you like Michael and you want to have his vanilla-ass babies so they can surf into the sunset and live a life full of missionary sex, HOWEVER you did not need to be like “YES, I’M PARTYING TONIGHT BECAUSE WE’RE NOT A MATCH!!!”

That’s not a paraphrase made by me, that’s a quote and frankly, it’s a fucked up one. And that’s coming from a fucked up person.

Ethan’s like “I’ve never seen someone so excited to get away from me” and I think every single person watching (aka me and 15 people who read this recap) were either a) about to cry for this actual nice guy or b) so fucking annoyed with Keyana for acting like she’s soooo much better than him. Anyone with a chest tattoo is not at the liberty to belittle people. That is a job strictly reserved for me. Now that we got that lecture out of the way…

OTHER STUFF

Ethan starts downing red wine and freestyle rapping. Aka me on any given night.

They start playing a game of sexy truth or dare, because they are original like that.

Malcolm and Diandre make out, Clinton and Uche make out, Michael licks Keyana, it’s all pretty generic.

Shad or Chad or whatever his fucking name is asks Alexis to kiss everyone in the house and she’s like okay and says “mama didn’t raise no bitch.” Incredible. I want that on a cross stitch. She proceeds to make out with everyone. Just like her mama intended.

KEITH: “She’s a little wild and idk if I trust her.” Really? This is the hard line for you? Not when she implied that she fucks her cousins?

Geles and Michael bond over the fact that they have large Hispanic families and it’s like, who is going to send me some tamales? Hit me up.

Nurys is getting pissed because DD (Diandre) is still talking to Malcolm when she likes him. She’s like “DD is obviously insecure!” and it’s like, hmmm okay sweetie.

Second shower makeout session goes to DD and Malcolm. Really? Now it’s just getting cliché. Isn’t there a closet you can take this to?

Of course, the moment DD goes to sleep Nurys is like DGAF and her and Malcolm start making out. DAMN. Okay. That’s how it’s gonna be. Then he hops back into bed with DD.

MALCOLM: I’m not a player. I promise I’m not a player.

Okay, Big Pun. Anyway, see you all next week.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/are-you-the-one-recap-malcolm-go-back-to-your-home-on-whore-island/

[nitallica]

Cross-posted from my blog: DC I love you

I spent last weekend recovering from last week’s trip to Washington DC for MWLUG. Work has been hella crazy this week while I’m trying to catch up and get a few things implemented that I learned.

BTW: It was FUN! Seriously loved the venue, and I loved being in DC. I am very much looking forward to next year’s, which is supposed to be in Ann Arbor, MI if I heard correctly.

Sadly, we will likely no longer be attending IBM’s Lotusphere ConnectED Connect conference due to cost. I missed this year’s trip due to my surgery, but by looking at the schedule of sessions, there would have been very little for me there. That makes me a bit sad, but it is what it is. MWLUG is cheaper, and quite frankly more useful (to me, at least). One of my favorite sessions last week was a “discussion” (read: tongue lashing) from Lotus/Domino users, admins, and developers to a couple members of IBM staff.

I almost felt sorry for them … almost.

Traveling to and from went a lot better this year due mostly to some mental and intestinal fortification via chemistry. In other words, my doctor gave me something to chill me out during the flights. :) I took a Xanax before each flight and they helped tremendously! Our flight back from DC to Atlanta was stressful, and from Atlanta to Birmingham was downright scary. Given how I have flipped my shit in the past during bumpy flights, I was a lot calmer while doped up. But I noticed right away how tired I was after each flight. I mean, I’ve had jetlag before, but holy Hell! Never like this.

During each flight, I chronicled my thoughts. I don’t even remember WHY, maybe to pass the time? Those around me found me a little funny while on the Xanax, but I felt chill as fuck. Seriously. I have never been so relaxed and calm in my life. (except maybe while I was Valium for my anxiety years ago)

Tuesday:

6:00am Been seated for a little bit. Holy shit this thing is cramped! I’m sitting on the aisle which I’m hoping works out better this time than my previous trips where I was by the window.

A little dismayed that there are no barf bags anywhere that I can see. Not that I’ve ever blown chunks on a plane, I’ve always felt like I could. It’s rare for me to have motion sickness (usually only with a bad migraine), but my anxiety makes me nauseous sometimes.

6:15 Child behind me starts screaming. This is going to be a long 2 hours.

Dude beside me has taken up both arm rests. Keeps opening and closing the window shade. His duffle bag is taking up half of my floor space. I mean, not that my stubby little hobbit legs need a whole lot of room, but still. At least he’s quiet.

6:38 Takeoff was a little bumpy. Not scary, but not exactly comfortable either. So far the Xanax seems to be helping?

Poor Joseph and CaySal have had to sit next to me while I’ve lost my shit on previous flights. God bless whoever invented this stuff!!!

6:50 Snacks!!! :D

I was very surprised they didn’t offer peanuts. To my delight they have almonds! :)

7:06 I’m feeling surprisingly good. I only took one Xanax, and was worried that maybe I needed two. So far, so good. While part of me hates being dependent on medications, they have made my life so much better!

7:13 I’ve had Billy Joel’s “You May Be Right (I May Be Crazy)” stuck in my head since I got to the airport this morning. Which is weird because prior to that I had “Blood on My Name” on loop on my internal radio. My Uber driver’s name was Lazarus, which likely started that. Can’t remember what I heard upon waking up.

Funny, I’m currently building a new Domino server named Lazarus. It is basically a replacement for a server that’s on its proverbial deathbed. An attempt to resurrect it, if you will.

8:21 (crossed time zone!) We’re told to put our seat belts on. Getting ready to land soon? I hope. I hope. I hope. I hope.

8:25 By looking out windows in front of me, wherever we are is pretty. Nice and sunny. I want a nap so badly. Could not sleep last night and running on about 3 hours’ worth. Today is gonna be a long day.

8:33 I realized that I forgot to pack my sneakers. I have my Harley boots on currently, and they’re usually fine. But I like having sneakers just in case. Because let’s face it, sometimes my feet can be little bitches. Plus, they’re black with dark red accents and I lurvs them. :)

8:40 While I was not thrilled about Delta having me pay to check my overnight bag (which work will reimburse me for), I will say this. Their staff have been great so far. The in flight staff especially. Very friendly!

Most of the TSA staff, not so much. :/

8:53 Making our descent. Hello, Detroit! :D

9:04 Whee! Landed and taxiing to our gate.

9:41 Waiting for time to board the next leg. Duuuuuuuude I am feeling so groovy. Now I know why everyone recommended I get this.

Joseph asked if my doc could put me on this every day. LOL

10:14 Seated and waiting to take off. Next trip I am DEFINITELY upgrading my seat. Slightly less cramped than last flight, but too small for my comfort.

At least I get a window seat this time! :)

10:34 Video safety instructions now. Yay? Was kind of neat. Now playing with screen on back of the seat in front of me while we taxi out to the runway.

11:28 Played around with the flight tracker. Then watch one of the inflight movies. Born in China – about animals indigenous to China. :)

Getting close to D.C. No almonds on this flight so I opted for cinnamon cookies to dunk in my coffee. :)

Definitely wanting a nap right nap. So tired zzzzzzzzzz…

11:55 D.C. I am in you! :D

12:15pm Headed to Alexandria to the hotel. Hopefully they will let me check in early.

And the flights home, Thursday/Friday:

3:27pm Checked Delta app and learned that my flight is going to be delayed at least an hour. Something about trouble with a passenger. Yikes?

Joy of joys, I’m already stressing out. Going ahead and taking my Xanax now.

4:05 Waiting on Uber to head to the airport.

5:15 Arrived at the airport, got checked in, bags handled, and groped by TSA.

Note: DC’s TSA folks are friendlier than Birmingham’s. Not by much, but still. Delta folks, however, were very super nice.

Now sitting down to get some food. Feeling super chill, but my head is killing me, probably due to lack of sleep. Been up since 3am.

Wheeee!

5:37 We ate at Grille District. The hot wings were not hot, but very tasty. I prefer a flavorful sauce to one that melts your face off any day.

6:03 Now the long wait to board.

6:53 An announcement comes in overhead; the flight has been delayed … again.

6:59 After talking with Delta, they said we should still make it in time for connecting flight. It may be close.

8:03 Aaaaaaand flight delayed … again. Not confident that we will make our connecting flight now.

8:20 Delta says we could “probably” make our connecting flight. I really don’t want to spend the night in Atlanta.

8:44 Finally boarding plane.

9:14 Take off. I am completely knackered. May try to sleep some.

9:22 Nope, can’t sleep. While I’m not freaking as much as I normally would, I am not as zen feeling as I was earlier. I maybe should have waited to take the Xanax until just before boarding. Granted, all the calamity with the delays did not help things. To make things worse, my neck and back are starting to pain me greatly.

I wanna go home. :(

9:26 Heavy turbulence, one of my least favorite things. Not freaking. But not exactly comfortable either.

9:48 According to the little flight tracker thingy on the screen in front of my seat, we are about midway over North Carolina.

10:04 Looks like we’ve crossed over into South Carolina air space now. Getting closer to home.

10:09 The lady behind me says it’s unhealthy for me to be so fixated on the flight tracker. I said it gives me something to focus on, to distract me. She asks what I would need to be distracted from, and I answer from the fact that we are hurdling through the air around 36,000 feet high at 1,000 MPH in a large metal projectile with no parachutes.

She then quietly sat back and hasn’t said another word. I often wonder how many people regret asking me questions. :)

10:20 Getting closer to Georgia. Got just over half an hour now.

10:27 Descending into Atlanta. Attendant says we’re landing in about 20 minutes.

We can make our flight if we haul ass. I really really REALLY don’t want to spend the night in Atlanta.

10:38 Seeing a metric shit-ton of lightning up here. At least we seem to be above most of it.

Supposed to be landing in 10 mins or so …

11:16 Ran like mad to next gate and barely made it. Airport staffer had told us the wrong direction to go to the gate we needed when we got off the plane from D.C. I seriously could have throttled her.

Now waiting to take off for Birmingham.

11:59 Wheeled out to the tarmac and sat … no idea why. About to take off now.

I’m on the way. Home sweet home.

I didn’t take that many pictures, but what few I have are up on my Flickr page.

I’m so glad that tomorrow is Friday. I’m spending it with Jessie, who turned 20 yesterday. Wow, I feel old. LOL

I hope y’all are having a good week! :)

... from DC I love you