#also the roommate died??

[jennifersbod]

a scion tc going 100 miles an hour drinking game

[shima-draws]

I’ve watched FMAB a thousand times but Greed’s death STILL gets me every fucking time. 1. Him realizing that Ling is going to get hurt and possibly killed by Father if Greed doesn’t leave his body, 2. Greed coming to terms with the fact that he’s definitely going to get killed by Father but he’s willing to make the sacrifice for Ling, and 3. Greed discovering that what he wanted was what he had the entire time, and that was true friends who would stick with him through thick and thin, who would share the same experiences and failures and triumphs and still love him despite his homunculus status. I’m so.

Also I’m SO pissed at the fact that Pride got to live but Greed didn’t. In my brain I kept saying “Well yeah I guess it makes sense for all of the homunculi to die bc they came from Father and HE has to die” but then I remembered that Pride LIVES and that makes me so salty. Out of all the homunculi Greed deserved to live the MOST AND I JUST. FUCKIGN.

[skunkes]

2 moods

[raddestrose]

Whooo I’m mad stressin about round seven

But I do know that the bass will be FUNKY

[joysmercer]

There is no version of this story where they live.

-------

The obituary arrives at 4pm on a Sunday.

Fabian should have known something was amiss, then. They rarely get paper mail anymore, and when they do, it's almost always with the morning post, on a weekday.

It's a nondescript white envelope, addressed in neat print to an "F. Rutter" with a return address from a place he doesn't recognize. He would have thought it an oddly-plain holiday card, or something, had there not been an identical envelope—this time addressed to his wife—that arrived along with it.

Fabian calls for her, urgently. There is only one reason they would be receiving identical mail sent to each separately. While he wants to read it alone, first, he doesn't want to be alone with it for longer than he needs to.

Grief, even if premature, is odd like that.

There's a check inside, for an amount he had argued against for nearly the entirety of his last visit ("shift," Nina had called them; she never believed that the rota was set up for any reason other than duty, despite their insistence on the contrary). He thought it was overly dramatic, even for her.

There are very few times he has been wrong. This is by far the worst of the lot.

The obituary itself isn't particularly effusive. A short column in the New York Times, it focuses largely on her success in the film industry, noting that should she win an Oscar for Touchstone next month, she would become one of just three to earn such a prize four times in a row—and the youngest to do so posthumously.

He scans the column fervently, looking for a sign—any sign—of why. But there is nothing, not even a "currently under investigation" or a "found unresponsive" or a "cause is undetermined." The passing of a twenty-six-year-old groundbreaking screenwriter who was, by all accounts, happy and secure (and famously sober) is, apparently, not something of concern to the general public.

It feels cold to Fabian, like the person he knew and loved—still loves—had been scrubbed clean, reduced to a generic blurb that could be applied to anyone if you switch the names and pronouns out.

But then again, knowing Nina, she would not have wanted a gushing tribute to be posted publicly for the world to see. She hated being the center of attention, always terrified that the wrong move would unwind the web she had carefully built around her—and as a result, all of them—over the years. I already know that the people who know me well enough to love me do love me. They wouldn't have stuck around otherwise, she had told him once, the night of her first Oscars ceremony.

He shivers now, remembering the way she had bumped their shoulders playfully when she said this, their glasses rattling so hard that her water almost spilled into his champagne. Yes, she it would have been very much like her to specifically request an obituary like this.

One look at the author would confirm this: TK Stall, Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative journalist—and a pseudonym for one of two people who aren't on the aforementioned rota by virtue of the fact that they already live nearby.

(It's worth noting that Nina's long-term "roommate"—the second of the two—and Ms. "Stall"'s best friend are the heads of a world-renowned styling & publicity agency and an elite PR firm, respectively. That, too, is not a coincidence.)

Patricia appears, finally, sprinting to the kitchen island and peering over his shoulder. "Sorry, sorry, Milla was throwing a—oh my god."

She snatches the paper out of his hand and proceeds to do the same thing he had done, just moments prior, running her fingers over every inch of it as if the details were hidden there in braille.

It takes a full minute of this before, it seems, reality finally sinks in. She clamps a hand over her mouth, the other dropping onto his shoulder—though for whose comfort, he cannot tell.

"I shouldn't have delayed," Fabian mutters, voicing the thought that had been rattling around his brain from the moment he realized what the envelope contained. "Last month. It was my turn, remember? But then the grant, and the storm had only just subsided, so we thought there would be a few months of—I should have realized—"

The grip on his shoulder tightens. And then, softly—"There is no version of this story where they live."

it's the same thing he had told her, all those years ago. It feels like a slap in the face, now.

It was different for Eddie, Fabian thinks, almost angrily. That was always his destiny. This? This was random; it didn't have to be her.

Patricia wraps her arms around him with a rare softness. As if reading his mind, she whispers, "She was the Paragon. She was always bound to the will of the spirits. Her dea—she was always going to go by their will." She cups his cheek with both hands, willing him to face her. "it's not your fault, love. It's. Not. Your. Fault."

She presses their foreheads together, almost forcefully. He lets his eyes flutter shut, lets her kiss away the tears running down his cheek, lets her hold him close, because he cannot hold himself up any longer.

She's right. But that doesn't make the guilt go away.

It never will.

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

i would like to stop experiencing the full spectrum of human emotions every day please. putting this out into the universe

[just-spacetrash]

😖

[marcsnuffy]

5, 9, and 25 with snuffy for the character ask game 🎤❓

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

I already answered this question but here's an actual answer: Déjà Vu by Gustavo Cerati

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

This question is too unspecific. I want to say sure, I don't think he'd be a bad roommate + I don't think he'd be around most of the time bc of football but like, am **I** a good enough roommate? I think I'd put pressure on myself to be a good roommate in this situation. tl;dr: not sure

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

I can't remember what my first thoughts were apart from "oh this guy looks like Zlatan, kinda" and that I had some mild interest abt the title Ego introduced him with & what Noa said abt Ubers being tactics+defense based over everything else. Now, he's one of my favorite characters !!!

[pepprs]

ok. im going to make this post but i REALLY shouldn’t but i just am so devastated rn and need to not be alone in it and you guys are the only people i can talk to candidly about moving stuff rn for a lot of reasons. the reason im crying rn is because i just found out i made a massive error in my budget and it turns out that my net pay is barely over minimum wage and i cannot afford to live by myself. at all. unless i live off of savings in addition to income but even then that’s only going to help me for a couple months and anyway it’s extremely unwise bc i should save that money for getting a car etc etc. this is not entirely a bad thing because a) at least i can afford to… you know… live. and b) living with roommates will not be bad especially if i live with friends and/or strangers i come to be friends with. it’s just i really… i don’t know i just feel so sick to my stomach. it’s just that recent events have made it so clear to me that i need to teach myself how to live independently before i can live with other people (let alone function in the world, heal from trauma, etc.) healthily. i know it so deeply. and it can’t happen for me. this is confirmation. this is confirmation and there’s nothing that can change it. rent is too high (even for shitty apartments in the area which let’s be real most of them are… it’s too high!) and over half of my income is going to taxes and deductions and bills and student loans. i feel so hopeless

[curseofdelos]

Take a Chance, Roll the Dice (3/3)

Relationships: Nico & Bianca, Nico & Hazel, Nico/Will (Solangelo), Nico & Percy Word Count: 31k (across three chapters) Summary: By the time everyone had gathered around the table, Nico was buzzing with excitement. His character sheet and notebook were neatly laid out in front of him, and his D&D Player’s Handbook was tucked away in his bag in case he needed it (he wouldn’t, he had it memorised back to front). Bianca didn’t have any dice, so Nico was sharing his collapsible dice tray with her, and set it between them for easy access. His fancy obsidian dice were neatly lined up along one side, and the glittery green acrylic set he loaned Bianca was lined up on the other.  Percy was idly stacking his blue d6s opposite Nico while Grover was organising his spell cards next to him. Thalia was at the other head of the table - opposite Annabeth, and between Grover and Bianca - doodling in the margins of her character sheet.  “Okay,” Annabeth said to grab their attention, and Nico couldn’t stop smiling even if he wanted to. “Let’s start by introducing our characters.” ------- An exploration of Nico’s relationships through games of D&D. Written for “Day 25 - D&D” of @solangeloweek's Auctober event.

Read on Ao3 [LINK]

[fingertipsmp3]

I’m always so fascinated by people’s bad roommate stories. I’m not sure I’ll ever live with someone I haven’t vetted extensively beforehand ever again

[evorathesylvurr]

throwing fandom characters into death road to canada is so funny.

i made some genshin characters a couple years back (kujou sara & diluc) as well as some of my lobcorp ocs (one of my flowerfield floors) and a pokemon oc (and a random oc of mine named daphne???) as well as homura. theres also my completely original dr2c oc named rebecca. Also slugcats from rain world.

last night, me and my roommate made the sinners + charon & vergilius + angela & roland

the most recent run (roommate is not an active player in this run):

me and roommate (hereon out going to be called pancake) started driving

we recruit gourmand

me, pancake, gourmand refuse monk, recruit rebecca (monk has bad traits & rebecca is actually really good)

i proceed to die to explosion in a gas station

ishmael shows up. we recruit her because yeah.

seige at a yallmart kills pancake, ishmael, and gourmand in that order

we're out of food a this point

hong lu shows up and he has the gun nut perk becuase i did not have any better perks for him LMAO

rebecca and hong lu are fighting because they are starving. rebecca kicks hong lu out and steals all his shit. roommate and i agree that hong lu might be able to survive by the zombies not realizing he has a brain.

rebecca robbed a resturant called Boiled Potatos for all of its food. car broke down. rebecca raided a tourist trap for food and a car. please be aware she is on 1 hp. i have no medical supplies.

rebecca finds rodya at a random camp and recruits her. rebecca then gets her dna zapped because why not. rodya has what i believe to be the worst perk (friend of dog) at this point [i love the dogs in this game, theyre really good, but this trait makes EVERY possible human a dog and i am playing familiar faces mode for a reason. i wish i could toggle perk stars tbh]

rodya and rebecca (aka I, the player) discover how busted guns are in a siege. i will remember this. hong lu may have saved the run.

the car breaks for a third time (not enough gasoline)

rodya suggests making moltovs which. feels in character tbh.

we recruit a doggo.

rodya tries to reason with a mob trying to kill the group but it doesnt go well and she gets hurt :(

we lose the car. again.

we find dog car. dogs are SO good when you need to go fast. they speedy :3

doggo and rebecca die trying to rescue some random guy. rodya was still at the car so she survives. random guy does some first aid. she is now soloing the road to canada. where is her bug husband and sad son.

we lose yet another car.

random dog shows up. i take the dog because at worst we get a supertrained dog and no rodya.

we find another car. is this a bad time to mention that irl idk how to drive and so its really funny how often i lose the cars in this game?

the dog gives up. rodya is alone again. girl please you have 1 day left. girl live for your maybe dead bug husband and your probably dead sad son.

diluc shows up at the final trader camp. this feels in character.

and the run ends to the seige right before the canadian border :( rip to rodya and diluc (i was built different [i was already dead])

[starry-bi-sky]

back on my bullshit

and by bullshit i mean "rewatch MCD for the millionth time in a row and resist the urge to make an MCD OC"

i have yet to succeed in my bullshit.

[beanyowl]

on my yearly aftg reread and I just started the raven king and theres this scene when matt and neil come back to their room after Seth's things were cleaned out and theres this line

and it just made me imagine, if neil never made it out of Baltimore alive, matt would have come back to a totally empty room whith his two roommates friends dying within the season and nothing left of them in the space they shared, even less of neil bc he was never real and just vanished

I just made myself sad

[mugzymiik]

Pyrite was meant to be a Gold kinsona what the FUCK happened (he got lore)

[wrishwrosh]

now the proud owner of the world’s best zine “moby dick* *redacted to queer” :))))