#and she shittalking that man at his behind

[mr-nauseam]

If you really go by white passing Strabo idea, it kinda recontextualize all his interaction with Mrs. Snow

[decentishoutsidersthoughts]

this is abt ur Darry and soda shit talking headcanons

- soda would definitely get all the teen gossip working at the DX… he flashes a smile and the girls start spilling everything about everyone

- it’ll be things like “oh did you hear so and so broke up with blah blah because cheated on her with her best friend” or “everyone things lalala is secretly hooking up with bleep bloop and is having his baby”

-and then when soda is telling Darry this at night, Darry is going like oh shit, no way and I knew he was an ass while snacking

- Darry’s gossip comes from all the guys at work and them being much older will have all the adult gossip

- “apparently Mr and Mrs *insert name* are having issues again because his mom is back in town” and “did you hear that *music notes* got trashed at the bar after he found out his business is going bankrupt”

- and soda adds all these dramatic gasps and makes snarky remarks

- they don’t ever include pony because they just don’t think he’s interested in gossip let alone bad mouthing people behind their backs, besides he should be focusing on school and his grades

- until one night pony comes out his room and grabs water from the kitchen, overhearing both of them sharing their respective gossip… he stops by the living room to inform them that they’re information is wrong and it was actually “beep who is being cheated on with her best friend except it’s because she refuses to wear his varsity jacket since he never washes it” and “Mr and Mrs *insert name* already were divorced which is why his mom is back in town and that’s why lalala is acting out and secretly hooking up with bleep bloop”

- he says it so nonchalantly but at the same time with the trashiest, lewdest, most raunchy language ever “oh and lalala is definitely pregnant but it’s not bleep bloops child, it’s his older brother’s”

- and then he takes his water and goes back to his room while soda and Darry gape at him

- they scramble to pony who is now reading a book in bed and demand he tells them more

- now all three of them shittalk about the town gossip together, soda and darry bring the gossip they heard at work and pony fact checks it, adding more and more context

I’m telling you Ponyboy is one of those guys who everyone forgets is in the room or listening and just runs their mouth. As somebody who is one of those people YOU LEARN SO MUCH.

Soda will be flirting with a girl at the DX and the second he catches a whiff of drama he’s turning on all the charm to get them to stay and tell him the whole story 😭

Darry is easily the biggest just shit talker. This man has THOUGHTS. He’s also the most logical about it of the three and usually is the one who makes some major breakthrough.

[yanara126-writing]

The Many Meetings of Death and Death (1/5) - Poetic Justice

Daud is a wreck. Corvo is a player avatar. Neither of them is happy about it.

Well maybe the Outsider is.

-

Read here or on Ao3 (2528 words)

Have fun! Comments always welcome! :)

--

Daud is a wreck. He knows it, even without seeing the looks his Whalers give him. He knows he scares them but there is nothing he can do about it anymore. He's been cracked down the middle for a long time, and the sword he's rammed into the empress had equally rammed a wedge into that crack, ruining his careful paint job. Sitting here now at his same old desk waiting for Attano to come and get his revenge was the closest he's felt to peace in six months. Either way, whatever comes of it, today it will be over.

Thomas stands in front of him, masked and stiff, as he reports sightings of Attano's rather chaotic escape and the slew of unconscious bodies he's already left behind. Even without seeing his face Daud knows well what his now second thinks of the plan. Knows that Thomas knows he doesn't expect to survive this. Knows that Thomas agrees and resents him for it.

Daud doesn't want to die. He thought he did for a while, deliberated ending it himself even, thinking that surely it would be better for everyone if he simply took himself off of their hands rather than dragging it out and everyone down with him. Billie's coup could have almost been a relief, had she not so succinctly demonstrated what he's done to her, to all his Whalers. He knows Thomas thinks that Attano is his bolt to the head but he is wrong. The knife to his wrist brought Daud no relief and instead made him realize that what he really wants is what he gave Billie. He wants out. He wants another chance. He wants something other than blood on his hands.

Attano may very well prove a bolt to his head, he wouldn't be surprised by it despite the man's strangely non-lethal approach to his prior escapades, but it will not be Daud who fires it.

"Understood. Get new lookouts on the roofs but make sure they know not to engage. Deal with the sentries as you will." Even if he dies today, his Whalers should not. Attano has proven shockingly merciful considering his fate, leaving far more bruised egos and throats behind than corpses. The bodyguard doesn't know which of his people were involved in the assassination, and Daud is hoping that anonymity will grant them some protection. If they don't actively get in his way, Attano shouldn't feel the need to kill them. Daud doesn't want to lose more of his people, even though they shittalk him, even though they grumble and whine, even though they play inane games and try to bother him into joining, even though he tried his best to be a distant leader and not care about them. Now, at what is very likely the end of his life, there is no point in lying to himself anymore. He does care. He cares about every face and name, he remembers all of them, even those he hasn't picked up himself, and it hurts far beyond the snapping of the bond when he loses one of them. This is between him and Attano, and Daud can only hope the bodyguard will see that too. But his Whalers he can order to let it be.

Thomas remains silent for some moments, though they both know Daud will not change his mind. He's known what will - what must - happen today, since the moment his men reported finding Attano barely alive on that boat. He also knows Thomas will not disobey. He's known the young man for much of his short life, has taken him in as a lanky, abused teenager like so many of their group, and has shaped him into one of their most proficient and loyal scouts. Billie would have fought him tooth and nail on the order. Thomas will obey.

It doesn't take Thomas long to crumble. His shoulders slump and he sighs. Daud is glad for the young man's mask, so he doesn't have to see the defeat in his eyes.

"Yes, sir." Thomas doesn't mumble, has been trained far too well for it. The Whaler bows shallowly and turns to leave. Daud silently watches him. At the door Thomas stops for a moment and turns to look but says nothing else, as if he simply wants to memorize the last moment he will see his master alive. He closes to door behind himself when he finally does leave.

Daud remains alone, sitting at his desk with nothing more to do, and waits for death to come.

Death eventually comes in the form of the ugly sound of metal striking metal. The sound comes from above him though and Daud jumps up from his seat and whirls around, seeing nothing. He doesn't bother with his void vision, that would be too easy. Instead he listens and indeed, now that he is alerted, he can hear quiet footsteps sneaking around the room. He announces as much, and the steps hesitate for barely a moment. There from the bookshelf.

Well, if Attano wants to make a game of it, he has plenty of practice playing. A bunch of urchins and street-rats don't train themselves into nearly undetectable assassins.

Daud draws his sword and starts walking over, slowly and deliberately.

"Do you think you can hide from a hunter of men?" He is taunting the man, poking at him, trying to see if he can bait him out. But when he rounds the shelf (and walks past the portrait of Burrows that he shoved a sword into during one of his more... difficult moments), there is no one there. The footsteps return after a moment from the other side of the room. So he can transverse too, can he. Unsurprising, it is one of the black-eyed bastard's most useful gifts, and it explains many of Attano's miracles. Daud turns and once again follows his ears, though he also keeps an eye on the top of the shelves. It's the first lesson he teaches the novices, 'up' is usually the right direction for them, and he doesn't doubt that Attano has realized it too.

They make another few rounds like that, Daud getting close only for Attano to transverse away at the last moment to another corner of the room, clearly there but never in view. Daud is beginning to get frustrated with this pointless game of cat and mouse.

"Is that how you protected the empress?" It's a low blow and he knows it, but he wants to finally get it over with. Get Attano to fight him, one on one, until only one of them will remain standing. The waterlogged wood under his feet creaks as he stalks forward, again to that damn bookshelf and the sword in it.

Daud doesn't know if it's the reference to his beloved empress, the insult, or if Attano has simply grown tired of dancing circles around him, but finally, he steps out of the shadows, sword drawn and mark ready.

"There you are.'' The man in the mask before him doesn't answer, simply holds his sword in front of his chest. All the better. Someone else tries to answer though and he feels the arcane bond flare to life as first two then three of his Whalers jump out of the shadow, unsummoned and unbidden. He thinks he can pick out Galia and Rinaldo, and possibly Quinn. (Not Thomas though, never obedient, loyal Thomas.) For a moment anger floods through him hard enough to drown out his own trepidation.

"No! This is between me and him, out with you all, now!" He can see them flinch and hesitate, but only for a moment. Then the room is empty again, except for Daud himself and Attano, who for some reason has decided to wait out the scolding. He shuts out the arcane bond, closes himself off to all of them as well as he can without severing it completely. He's not interested in acknowledging the childish sulking of undisciplined brats who clearly need another run of the gauntlet. And when he dies, the breaking of the bond will be less painful. Attano deserves his attention at least.

He yanks at the power of the mark and halts time, just to make sure.

"And now we fight, the duel no two others could fight, against the ticking of the clock." Daud knows he's being dramatic. But then, there are only two people now who could judge him for it, one who has suffered far worse from his hands before, and one whose teeth Daud will personally kick in once he's dead if he dares comment on it. Attano thankfully does not deign to answer and finally attacks properly.

As their swords clash over and over, momentum driving them all across the room, Daud is unsure if the man is a genius or a lunatic. Perhaps both. Either way he is relentless. His swings are fast and almost aimless, making it hard to predict their direction. He seems less interested in doing actual damage than in driving Daud into a corner. There is little Daud can do but dodge and try to get a few lucky hits in before transversing away to gain distance. Interestingly Attano rarely follows with a transversal of his own or any magic at all. It seems Daud has the advantage of experience in using their abilities in combat, but it is clearly the only advantage he has. Attano is as tough as he is fast and confusing, the hits Daud does get in don't seem to faze him at all.

The fight is exhausting and while Attano is apparently running on endless stamina even hours after being poisoned, Daud is not, and soon he can feel the strain on his body rising. Prolonged combat has never been his forte, an assassin who fights his target openly has already failed. He doesn't intend to give up though. He owes Attano an honest victory. And so Daud makes one last desperate gamble and transverses out of his office to the next rooftop, putting his back to the crumbling wall and shifting into a defensive stance. But this time Attano follows the transversal, just smidge to the right of Daud. The first hit slams his sword out of his hands, the second one slashes him right across the chest, splattering blood all over the roof. One of his bones charms goes flying as it's ripped from his chest. And Daud knows he's lost.

Dragging up just the last bit of energy from somewhere in his bones he blinks again, only a few metres, and immediately collapses. He only stays upright because of the piece of wall behind his back. He's gasping for air, trying to push past the burning pain in his chest as he's trying to stifle the bleeding somewhat. The cut is too long and deep for him to truly block it, but at least the pressure should keep him from bleeding out until he says his piece. Even if it hurts like shit.

Attano comes closer, bloody sword in hand but not raised. He stands. And waits. As if he knows Daud still has something to say. As if he's listening. Well. Who is Daud to leave him waiting.

"I have one more surprise for you." Is it though with how Attano is looking at him? "I ask for my life." He is hoping beyond hope that none of his Whalers are watching. That he's scared them enough with his yelling that no one is seeing this and will be disappointed by the outcome, whatever it will be. He knows even in the moment it's a vain hope, he can see the shadows of at least two on the surrounding balconies. Probably Ricardo and Galia again, the little shits. He doesn't reach for the bond to check. "When I killed your empress and took her daughter something in me broke." He's trying hard to get out the words, focusing beyond the pain in his chest, the frustration over his Whalers, the wild, desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, Attano will actually let him live. Somehow none of these distractions are as difficult to get past as Attano himself, who starts shifting his weight around and keeps turning his head. As if he's nervous. Daud swallows down another surge of pain and nausea and decides to ignore it. "Now I see the design on your hand, the mark of the Outsider himself, and I remember all I've done. The years of w- What are you doing??" He's glanced away for barely a moment, and suddenly Attano has his mask pushed up and a rat half hanging out of his mouth.

At least the man has the decency to look awkward about it.

For a short while they simply stare at each other in silence, Attano chewing on the dead rat and Daud bleeding out on the ground with no words to describe the situation. Eventually he decides not to try.

"Look, I am trying to say that I regret my actions and if you let me live, I will leave and never kill again." Attano, once again, doesn't answer. He doesn't do much of anything except finish eating the rat. Whole it seems, because Daud cannot spy the bones anywhere. Instinct bred by more than a decade of training idiot teenagers who like to shove weird shit down their throats has him watching the man for signs of choking. There are none. Does he... Does he have practice with this?

Eventually Attano pulls the mask down again and starts awkwardly shuffling away. He doesn't turn away from Daud, but instead of being suspicious he seems to just be awkward about leaving. No comment about conditions, no threats, not even really much of any emotion. He just leaves Daud to bleed out on the roof and vanishes back inside the building.

Daud feels... Something, certainly. He's not quite sure what though. Pain is the easiest thing to name, but aside from that... He has just been gifted his life. Attano chose mercy. In a strange and unsettling way but mercy nonetheless. He is alive. He should be grateful for that. Somewhere in his bones he is, but above all, even above the pain, he is simply deeply confused about what just happened.

Then the pain catches up again and Daud bites back a groan as he doubles over. Well fuck it, if Attano wants to be a cryptic, rat-eating little shit, so be it. Daud has an unexpected life to live. Or at least he will if he takes care of the gash in his chest first, something he will... need help with. He curses under his breath and tugs on the arcane bond, for once not much caring who he reaches. The rumour mill will have everyone caught up in minutes anyway. Immediately he is surrounded by at least a dozen baffled Whalers, all nearly falling over each other on the narrow roof. Daud only sighs as he watches their antics, now that Attano is gone. This will be a long day.

(And really, he is thankful for it.)

[dear-crybunny]

not to make a youtube response video in a tumblr post because of One twitter comment insulting yusuke but as much of a bruh moment him essentially blackmailing ann into modelling is i just got thinking about the reason he did it is because it'd be a loss-loss situation either way

this random group of people starts trying to shittalk and spread harmful rumours that yusuke knows isn't true. madarame is a man yusuke has practically given up his whole life for, and while madarame only sees yusuke for the art he creates, yusuke sees madarame as not only the creator behind the sayuri, but as a savior he cannot live without. yusuke is fully dependant on madarame - being given a shelter, the ability to pursue his passion, a scholarship and dinner i guess - and madarame is without a doubt using yusuke's loyalty to his advantage. despite the other students yusuke grew up alongside having left, had their lives ruined, and even died, yusuke stands by madarame's side.

he could've simply just given up on ann and go look for another model when the group started becoming a problem, save madarame the trouble and still deliver the art in time for the deadline - except one of his opening lines to ann is him telling her that she's his saving grace. if he didn't paint her, he wouldn't get this painting done in time or as beautiful as they'd like. he'd disappoint madarame - who specifically mentioned he hoped the painting would turn out wonderful - and be incapable of doing the one thing he can do to give back to madarame. by giving the crew the choice of either ann modelling or him calling the police, yusuke is essentially giving up madarame's safety for a delivered beautiful painting, or the other way around

fun fact, yusuke doesn't say he lives at madarame's place or even lives with him - he says he's allowed residence. he doesn't find that madarame, despite being his legal guardian, is required to house yusuke. ann comments that madarame is friendly and without missing a beat yusuke agrees with her.

we don't exactly know what the "if i could leave i would" is in reference to; it could be as simple as a "i'd like to explore the world with my own eyes but i'm unable to live on my own" or as bad as "i'm in pain but i'm trapped here and cant leave". we also don't know what the anger he painted for the exhibition is caused by either. we do however understand that yusuke recognizes that although he is seemingly okay with the shit madarame does, he has some sort of feeling it's not ideal or even painful (see him doubting when ann calls out that yusuke drew the painting she liked + his slight doubt when ryuji accuses him of lying about madarame not plagiarizing + abusing his students)

there are clearly uncertain feelings about what is right and what's not. yusuke can easily call madarame his foster-father when madarame isn't around, and even seemingly doubts if madarame was a bad person after they've changed his heart. yusuke said it best himself, he doesn't hate his former teacher - even after madarame straight up said he could kill yusuke if he was no longer useful - and yusuke's ideal reality only backs this up (although i cant be bothered to look up that scene for details atm)

even when multiple months has passed and the crew meets madarame again down in the depths of mementos, yusuke is still struggling with deattaching the label of a teacher to madarame - and even questions if what they've done is right when he realizes that changing their hearts may have hurt him to the point futaba has to call him out - because now it got personal !!

i love the yusuke angst as much as the next person, but the amount of people forgetting yusuke's one-sided relationship to madarame is such a shame!! yusuke is struggling throughout the whole game with the drastic change of fully depending on his abuser who he looks up to and offers his everything to, to losing everything he knew besides the art he basically breathes - and even though he's a fictional character who's had every action and thought written out for him in a script, i think yusuke is extremely powerful and an inspiration for being able to make his life work after everything.

[noiwontsaythatabouthim]

Hi, op here, some stuff happened recently.

One, I don't think I was TA, personally. Seems most of you don't think that either. I do feel bad, now, for not handling it better, though.

I texted K again later and said I was sorry for telling her that in front of everybody and then storming out. I probably should have just put my foot down harder on my refusal and told her privately how much it upset me. I also told her, like how most of y'all told me, that her whole men suck routine was really invalidating as a trans man, and that either she Included me in all men or didn't, a real damned if you do damned if you don't sort of situation.

She thanked me for apologizing and apologized herself for the men comment. She said she honestly wasn't thinking about it when she said it but she'd try to be more sensitive. She also said she'd found out that her most recent boyfriend was married with kids sooo. She was kinda down in the dumps about men and dating and whatnot.

As for bigger updates... L broke it off with her fiance after our brunch!! She realized he wasn't doing anything and just absolutely oozing weaponized incompetence. So after a big blowout where she said either grow up or I'm gone, he chose to stay a giant man baby. You know, I never liked him much. She's angry and heartbroken, but she's like, gorgeous, smart, and insanely sweet. She'll realize that he was an absolute nothingburger of a man soon and move on easily.

Anyway, seems like a lot of y'all have nice things to say about my husband, so I'm gonna tell you what happened when I came out to him because I'll tell as many people who will listen how perfect he is.

So for the past two years before I came out, almost our whole married life, we had been having difficulty. I'd realized I was a man shortly before he proposed to me, and I thought I would just bottle it up and keep it down for the rest of my life. Turns out that's hard.

Like I said, difficulty. We were rarely affectionate with one another, almost never made love, and when we did, it was so unenjoyable that usually I pretended to finish and he said he was fine without finishing. It wasn't healthy for either of us. I kept feeling like I was dragging him down with how mopey I was around him, so around 5 years ago I decided to just bite the bullet and come out. I had already been visiting with a gender therapist behind his back and had the go ahead from both them and my endocrinologist to start T. I felt very guilty about that at the time, doing it behind his back.

I took him into the bedroom to talk and ended up just sobbing into his shirt for 30 minutes before timidly muttering "baby, I think I'm a man. I wanna be a man."

He laughed so loudly it made me jump and then cried out "thank GOD" as he hugged me. He told me that he was a second away from coming out himself and that he thought he'd have to divorce me. He was so relieved, I don't think I've ever seen him that happy. He promised to be with me every step of the way, and he was.

He was there to kiss me when I changed my name. He held my hand as I got my first T shot. He was the first thing I saw when I woke up from both top surgery and my sterilization procedure. He bitched at the social security office because it was all bullshit, he got in long, annoying phone calls with the bank. He renewed his vows with me last year in front of all our friends and family. He's the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night. I would do anything for him. I love him so much.

Sorry, I know I'm gushing, this isn't what the blog's for, but I just... need you all to understand that when K asked me to shittalk my husband, how impossible that felt. How cruel it felt. And I also want any other trans folks reading this to know that you can find your person, you don't have to give up on love. Someone out there is gonna love you, they're gonna think you're so fucking hot, they're gonna bend over backwards to make you happy. And you deserve it, too.

Sorry about the rambling. Hope all yall have a good day.

AITA for not complaining about my sex/love life?

A bit nsfw. I'll try to keep it vague.

So I (31FTM) came out and transitioned about 5 years ago. My husband (34, cis M) and I were married beforehand. He was extremely relieved, as he had realized he was gay and didn't know how to tell me. It's like a fairy tale if Disney thought we were marketable 💜 just a bit of context to what happened next.

I have a group of friends, straight cis women my age, who knew me pretransition. They were relatively supportive, minus a few confused questions and a couple of comments early on about how hard it was to remember my name.

I was out to brunch with 3 of them (K, S, L, all early 30s/late 20s). L is engaged, S recently got serious with a guy, and K is perpetually single.

We were all chatting and eventually got on the topic of romance. S was complaining that her boyfriend never did the dishes. L laughed and said she had to essentially train her fiance to do certain household chores. K piped up with some sort of "men are the worst" comment, which I just sort of ignored, until she turned to me and said "So what gets on your nerves about YOUR husband, OP?"

I shrugged and said that sometimes he leaves his socks on the floor, but that's about it. K rolled her eyes and said there had to be SOMETHING that pissed me off about him, like "he's bad in bed or doesn't listen to you." I snapped a little and told her that no, actually, I don't care what you say about your partners but mine is actually really great, and I love him. He's great in bed, he's very caring and passionate, he listens to me all the time, and I won't be convinced to shittalk him.

It got quiet and I just decided to leave cash for my part of the bill and leave. I went home to snuggle into my husband's arms on the couch and tell him what happened. He just laughed and said I could shittalk him if I wanted. I don't think he really got why I was so upset.

That afternoon, K texted me and said I really embarrassed her in front of everyone and wanted me to apologize for what I said. I refused and told her that I wasn't gonna apologize because she assumed I didn't like my husband and I corrected her. She called me a bitch and went radio silent. I texted S and L and asked them if they were okay, no response yet.

My husband thinks I should just apologize, but I don't want to say sorry for refusing to talk badly about someone who supported me during one of the hardest times of my life, even if he'd be fine with it. It just makes me feel wrong.

AITA?

[mayhemproduces]

Syn vs Nic Nemeth

Our opening match tonight was probably one of the most anticipated matches on this entire card, the MPW debut of The Wanted Man, Nic Nemeth, against one of MPW’s top stars, a man who spent practically all week shittalking Nemeth, The Poisoned Prince, the second in command of The Fallen, Syn. The former MPW Triple Crown winner sat on the top turnbuckle as Nemeth finishes up his entrance before this sold out and fired up Miami crowd, causally conversing with Abigail, in his corner tonight, no doubt the two of them strategizing for the match to come here tonight against someone who was a near 20 year veteran of the professional wrestling ring. 

Thanks to Nemeth’s seemingly endless tenure with the WWE, despite the fact that there was around 33 years of combined wrestling experience in this ring, this would be the first time these two men have ever met in a professional wrestling ring. We’re all set to go here as senior MPW official Jake Clemons calls for the bell, but as the two men circle each other, Syn suddenly stops, and tells Nemeth to do the same, as Syn reaches his hand through the ropes, asking for the mic from Steve Guy, as Abigail goes to retrieve it for him. She hands the mic to her man, and Syn keeps his eyes locked on Nemeth as he steps forward to speak. 

“Nic Nemeth… Another big name, just passin’ through MPW, huh? Well let me take a second to introduce myself to you, and allow you to get a sense for what you’ve gotten yourself into here tonight. My name is Syn, and while you’ve been spending the last couple of years sitting on the couch, collecting a paycheck, I’ve been here in MPW, week in, week out, busting my ass for this place. I am the best Deathmatch wrestler in the world, the heart and soul of this company, and I’ll be god damned if I let yet another TV Wrestler walk through this place for a quick buck. So I’m gonna give you one chance, Nic, before you get yourself hurt tonight. You already got paid, so I’m gonna give you the opportunity to turn around, and walk out of here tonight, go back home, and do what you do best… Sit on the couch, while the wrestlers who people actually care about do their thing.” 

The boos from the crowd here in Miami simply illicit a smirk out of Syn, and Nic actually shrugs his shoulders, and asks Syn one more time. “You want me to go?” 

“Go, go back home, get out of here.” 

Nic actually shrugs his shoulders and goes to climb back through the ropes, and Syn, apparently thinking that Nic was taking his advice, turns around to give the mic back to Steve Guy. But even Abigail shouting to look behind him can’t get Syn to turn around fast enough, and as he does, he finds Nemeth wasn’t leaving at all, Nemeth was measuring Syn before he takes Syn’s head off with an absolutely DISGUSTING sounding Superkick! Syn’s teeth might be in the third row! Nemeth covers, this one might already be over!

1….2… KICKOUT!

So close to a three, but Syn just barely manages to get a shoulder up! Nemeth sits up, and even has to confirm with Clemons that the count was only two, but Clemons insists that Syn got the shoulder up in time. Nemeth goes to get back up, but feels someone tugging on his boot, and turns around to see Abigail trying to pull him out of the ring, the Matriach quickly backing up and getting out of harms way as Nemeth swipes at her. Clemons comes over and warns Abby to get back, but as both Clemons and Nemeth are distracted, Syn sneaks up from behind and nails Nemeth with a low blow! Nemeth hunches over in agony, and Syn rolls him up, and as Clemons drops down to count the pin, Syn puts his feet on the ropes, Abigail holding onto them for extra leverage, Syn’s trying to steal this one!

1….2…. KICKOUT!

Nemeth escapes at the last moment! Syn gets shoved off, and tries to charge Nemeth quickly as Nemeth gets back to his feet, trying to take him by surprise, but as Syn charges in, Nemeth sends him up and over the ropes, Syn crashing to the outside, and accidentally landing on Abigail in the process! Things not going well here for the Fallen here in the early going! 

Nemeth rolls to the outside and grabs Syn, nailing him with a straight right hand before asking a fan at ringside for his beer can, before nailing Syn over the head with that as well! Syn goes stumbling away as cheap beer goes flying everywhere, and Nemeth grabs Syn again, nailing him with another right head, staying on the attack. Nemeth goes to grab Syn again, but Syn catches Nemeth with an elbow to the gut, before bouncing Nemeth’s head off the ring apron, stunning the Wanted Man for the time being. Syn tries to grab Nemeth and whip him into the ring post, but Nemeth turns it around on Syn, sending Syn careening head first into the steel ringpost! Syn drops to the ground, and Nemeth takes a second to fire up the fans here in Miami! 

Nemeth slaps the ring apron a couple times, and, showing everybody he’s in the MPW spirit, starts going around the ring, and grabbing chairs from underneath it, throwing them into the ring. It seems Nic wants to play Syn’s game a bit here tonight and get hardcore, and the fans love to see it. Nic tosses Syn back into the ring as he finishes gathering up chairs, and slides back in himself, grabbing a chair, and as Syn gets back up, Nic Nemeth nails him with the point of the chair, right in the gut! Syn drops down to his hands and knees, clutching his gut, leaving his back open to Nemeth, who raises the chair up, and cracks the chair against Syn’s back! Syn rives in agony as he rolls on the mat, steel being driven directly into his spine! Syn clutches his back and tries to pull himself up to his knees as Nemeth raises the chair up again, looking to smash the chair over Syn’s head, but before he can, the chair gets ripped away by Abigail! Abigail hops up onto the apron and steels the chair, and Nemeth spares a look behind him to try and swing at her, missing, and turning around right as Syn chucks a chair at Nemeth’s head! The chair connects, the sound of steel on skull echoing throughout the building here, and Nemeth is down! 

Syn takes a moment to taunt the booing fans here in Miami, before pulling his shirt off for the first time in this match, and then using his shirt to choke Nemeth down on the mat! Syn continues to choke Nemeth until Clemons practically rips Syn off of him, Syn shoving Clemons away before grabbing Nemeth by the hair, and dragging Nemeth over to the ropes, before Syn chokes Nemeth against the ropes! Nemeth fights for air, and once again, Clemons has to pull Syn back, repremanding him to keep Nic off the ropes, but as Clemons’ back is turned, Abigail starts choking Nemeth on the ropes! Nemeth kicks and struggles but isn’t able to get free until Abigail releases him before Clemons turns back around. Nick rolls off the ropes, and tries to get back to his feet, but in his disorientation, he doesn’t notice Syn with a chair, right before Syn puts the point of that chair in his gut! Nic drops down to the mat, clutching his gut, before Syn winds up and smashes the chair over his head! Nemeth might be out cold, as twirls the chair, and drops down to a knee to shit talk Nemeth some more. 

“I gave you the chance to walk away! You brought this on yourself, old timer! You could’ve been at home by now!” Syn gets up and once again mocks the booing crowd, before raising the chair up as Nic rolls to the ropes, and starts using them to pull himself back up to his feet. Nemeth refuses to quit tonight, just as he’s refused to quit many a time throughout his wrestling career, but it’s clear Syn is looking to go in for the kill here. Syn charges Nic, raising up the chair and swinging, but Nic moves, and the chair bounces off the ropes, and right back into Syn’s face! Syn drops the chair and stumbles to the middle of the ring, as Nemeth hits the ropes and leaps up, before driving Syn’s face into the mat with the Fameasser! Syn’s head is spiked into the mat, and Nemeth goes for the cover!

1….2…. Kickout!

Syn out at two! Syn manages to get his feet under him, and start to get to his feet as Nic Nemeth beckons him to get up. Syn goes so, just to blast Nic with a stiff chop to the chest. Nic Nemeth hunches over in pain, before straightening up and launching one back at Syn, causing Syn to stumble back, but then apparently Syn decided that headbuts were a good idea, and he launches his head at Nic Nemeth’s, the two knocking noggins. Nic Nemeth decides to respond in kind, launching a headbutt back at Syn! Syn tries to fire back with a chop, but it’s blocked, and Nic Nemeth lays into him with a couple of forearm shots, before sending Syn off the ropes, and then dropping Syn with a big Superkick! Syn might be out cold! 

Syn doesn’t stay down for long though, prompting a chair shot from Nic Nemeth again, once again the sound of steel meeting flesh echoing throughout The Ground here in Miami. Nic Nemeth grabs Syn up, and tries to send Syn into the corner, but Syn reverses the whip, and instead sends Nic Nemeth in the corner, before launching himself at Nic Nemeth and crashing into him with a Stinger Splash! Syn turns around to build momentum for a second one, but as Syn turns around to run, Nic Nemeth follows him and nails Syn with a corner clothesline! Nic Nemeth turns to build momentum for another, but Syn follows him out of the corner, just like Nic did to Syn. However, Nemeth seems to have eyes in the back of his head, as he turns and grabs Syn, using his own momentum to plant Syn with a Snap Powerslam! Driving Syn to the mat! Nic Nemeth covers!

1….2… Kickout!

Syn out at two once again! Abby was halfway into the ring, looking like she may attempt to break up the pin if Syn wasn’t gonna kick out. Syn sits up and tries to call for a chair from Abby, but as Abby slides the chair into the ring, Nic Nemeth stops it with his foot, and then kicks Syn right in the face. Nic Nemeth grabs a handful of Syn’s hair and drags him up to his feet, trapping him in the corner. Nic Nemeth takes a few steps back and tries to charge in at Syn, before Syn sends Nic up and over onto the apron. Syn turns around and tries to catch Nic Nemeth with a forearm, but he blocks it and nails Syn with an another big right hand. Syn stumbles back, but as Nic tries to come through the ropes, Syn picks up the chair and nails him in the head with it! Nic Nemeth is stunned as Syn pulls him through the ropes, and drops him on the chair with a Hangman DDT! Syn into the cover!

1…2… Kickout!

Nemeth out at two again, and he just refused to go away here tonight, but the look in Syn’s eyes suggest he’s got evil intentions here. Syn motions to Abby outside the ring to grab him something, and Abigail gets to work quick, digging around underneath the ring here, before she produces a door, and slides it into the ring, right to Syn who starts getting the door propped up in the corner. Syn steps back, admiring his work… and walks right into a Nic Nemeth sleeper hold! Nic wrenches in the sleeper! Syn is fading quick, but he manages to get a hold of Nemeth’s hair, and snapmare Nemeth in front of him, escaping the hold. Syn quickly hits the ropes and goes for a big spear, but Nemeth leaps over him to avoid! Syn quickly spins around to try and change direction, but as he turns around, Nemeth leaps up, catching Syn’s head, and dropping him with a BIG jumping DDT! Syn’s head driven into the mat!

Nemeth goes over to the corner to fix the door, propping it up properly, before Nemeth urges the crowd up to their feet, and this Miami crowd does just that. Nemeth goes to pick Syn back up, but Abigail had handed Syn a small pouch with Nemeth’s back turned, and with Nemeth trying to grab Syn, we find out what was in that pouch, as Syn throws a handful of powder into the eyes of Nemeth! Nemeth stumbles back, blinded by the powder to the eyes, and as Syn struggles to recover, Abigail picks up the slack, sliding into the ring, charging, and driving Nemeth through the door with a HUGE Spear! Abigail rolls off of the wreckage, and Syn drags Nemeth out from underneath it, going for the cover! 

1…..2… KICKOUT!

Nemeth stays alive! Syn sits up onto his knees, clearly frustrated, but Nemeth refuses to give up the fight just yet! Syn gets back to his feet as Abigail does, and Syn nods to his beau, telling her that it was time to end this one. Abigail nods and reaches into her pocket, before producing… a Screwdriver?! Syn and Abigail brought a screwdriver out here tonight?! 

Apparently with plans to use deadly force tonight against Nemeth, Abigail tosses the screwdriver to Syn, who twirls it in his hands as Abigail grabs Nemeth up by his arms, holding him up, as Syn taunts Nic Nemeth with the screwdriver telling Nic he’s about to drive it right into his eye, but as Syn backs up, and raises the screwdriver to charge Nic with it, someone slides into the ring behind Syn….

It’s Ryan Nemeth! Nic’s brother is here in MPW as well! Ryan probably came just to watch his brother’s debut, but upon seeing this, has decided he needs to spring into action! Syn turns around, feeling the presence, and tries to hit Ryan with the screwdriver instead, but Ryan ducks underneath, and as Syn turns around, Ryan drops Syn with a cutter! Syn driven headfirst into the mat! 

Ryan turns around, only for Abigail to throw Nic aside and charge Ryan, dropping the Hollywood Hunk with a big boot, knocking Ryan Nemeth outside of the ring. Abigail isn’t prepared for what comes next though, as Nic charges her from behind, leaps up, and drives Abigail’s head into the mat with the Danger Zone! The former Zig Zag drives Abigail’s head into the mat, and sends this place nuclear! The entire crowd on their feet after that one! 

Nic gets back up, and before he can locate his opponent, Syn already slipped behind him, and catches Nic with another low blow! Syn goes low on Nemeth again, and this time, Syn’s going for the killshot! Syn spins Nemeth around, hooks his arms, and drives Nemeth head first into the mat with the Neurotoxin! Syn folds Nemeth up, as Clemons makes the count!

1….2….3!

“Here is your winner, The Poisoned Prince, Syn!” 

Syn & Abigail pulled out every single stop tonight to make sure Nic Nemeth didn’t get the victory in his MPW debut, and the Fallen are winners this time! Syn rolls out of the ring with Abigail, Abigail still on wobbly legs after taking the Danger Zone, but there’s a smile on the evil witch’s face as her lover was victorious here tonight.

[secondgenerationnerd]

Ceridian meeting the Omega👀half of them would swoon over him I know that lol

I mean…you ain’t wrong 😂😂

———————

“Sooooo,” Colin looks at Jai, “Remind me who we’re meeting?”

The speedster scrolls through his phone—social media or research article? Hard to say sometimes— before looking up, “Ceridian. Well, our universe’s Ceridian. He’s the son of Dad’s friend, Garth.”

“He’s Atlantean, right? Like Artur?” Colin says it casually, but a knowing look passes between him and his girlfriend. Lian reaches over, smacking him with her paperback. “What?!”

“Off limits, Bi-panic—”

“Excuse me, Jon currently holds that title—”

“Hey!” Jon glares at them, cheeks red. He and Mar’i had been leaning against the rails, watching the waves crash along the rocky shore. While there aren’t any people around, they still have to readjust to the noise. At least enough to hear their teammates shittalk. “It was one time! And you asked infront of my mom!”

“You still never answered the question!” Lian teases, “I don’t see how hard it is to choose someone else on the team to date—“

Walking back from the end of the dock, Damian’s hand in hers, Irey coughs before shooting Lian a look. The archer pretends not to notice. Jai notices and shoots a look back, “Yes, Iris Anne?”

“Jai Bartholomew, tell your girlfriend about stones and glasshouses.”

Mar’i snorts and slides her hand into Jon’s. The simple silver diadem across her brow compliments her impossible green eyes and dark curls. In her favorite, simple dress and flats, a passerby would think she’s a normal teenager…unless they knew that diadem isn’t an accessory. No, it is a physical reminder of her place, her role, her responsibilities….and Mar’i holds her head high.

Lian dramatically sighs, getting between the bickering twins, “Anyway, last time we saw Ceridian, we were 7 years old, way before Mar’i ever showed up. He was this scrawny kid, great swimmer, very gullible—“

“What did you do?” Milagro asks.

Before Lian can answer, Jon looks up. He nods to the water in front of them, “Here they come.”

Two blurs beneath the surface race toward the dock, then launch into the air. Wood groans as the teenage boys straighten. Both look to be about their age, sea water dripping down their suits. Not unlike a diver’s suit, the fabric hugs their bodies, even more dripping wet.

The first, with a trident in his grip, is a handsome young man, damp curls closer to brown than golden, sea green eyes taking scanning the area. Prince Artur, Heir to the Atlantiean throne. His golden-orange top remind them of his father’s suit, but patterns peak through the fabric. Letters? Ruins? Magical wards? With the trident in his hand, he looks every bit the ruler he’s destined to be.

The other young man shakes his dark hair, pushing it behind his ears. Like Mar’i, his eyes are a pupil-less, though pitch black. Though he’s fairer than the Prince, dark blue top making him seem paler, when he stretches, muscles ripple down his arms and back. When he takes a deep breath, the gills on his neck flutter.

“Mierda,” Milagro murmurs, Colin nodding in agreement. Jon’s gotten very interested in his shoes, blushing. None of the others move.

It’s Mar’i who moves first. Waking towards the two, she cups her hand, pressing the side of her palm to her chest, then out to them. A Tamaranean greeting of respect she once called it. “Prince Artur. I trust the seas were calm.”

“The gods favored us today, Princess.” The golden haired boy presses the back of his fist to his forehead, the Atlantean equivalent to Mar’i’s gesture. They don’t Royal kids, dude. Artur gestures to his companion, “I don’t believe you know my second in command, Ceridian.”

Another exchange of respectfully gestures, then Ceridian tilts his head, taking in the beauty. Like he’s trying to place her in his memory, until finally saying, “You’re Koriand’r and Dick’s daughter.”

“That obvious?” She laughs with him, “I’m sorry we couldn’t meet sooner. I didn’t come to Earth until I was 7.”

“After your mother passed, which I’m sorry to hear. My father speaks highly of both your parents.”

“Thank you.” Mar’i straightens at that, head held higher. “My father talks about yours the same. I’m shocked it took us this long to meet.”

“I haven’t been to the surface in years. My studies and duties kept me busy. It’s not an easy task protecting this royal dunce.” Ceridian grins at the Prince. Artur scratches his face, not so subtly flipping him off. Pupil-less eyes drift over to the group approaching them. A smile plays on Ceridian’s lips, “Jai West. See you haven’t blown yourself up.”

“Is that anyway to greet an old friend?” Jai scoffs, hugging the teen. “Puberty hit you hard too, huh?”

“I take it Lian was talking about how scrawny we were as children?”

The archer snorts, hugging Ceridian, “you remembered me!”

“Hard to forget the girl who’s fish cuss worse than her.” Ceridian grins at Lian. His eyes soften at the redhead beside her, “Hey, Ires.”

“Hey, Ceridian.” Irey smiles quickly, blush spreading across her face as they hug. Oh, there’s a story there, but Mar’i doesn’t register it.

“I don’t think you got to meet the others?” Mar’i holds her hand out to the other four. Greetings and introductions go quick. Damian shakes Ceridian’s hand, a death grip on the Atlatieans hand.

“Ooo, Jealous Damian.” Lian teases. Irey turns red again, smacking the archer’s arm.

“Back to the tower?” Mar’i suggests, “Maxine should be there when we arrive.”

“Who’s Maxine?” Artur asks, using the trident as a walking stick.

“And is she single? The Queen is desperate to have her son betrothed—“ Ceridian snickers, jumping out of the prince’s reach.

“I could have you exiled—“

Lian shakes her head dramatically and sighs, “Will the royal children ever think of a better threat than exile?”

Artur and Mar’i exchange a look, then nod, speaking in unison, “Talking to you.”

“HEY!”

[nochiquinn]

four-sided dive episode 1: fuck a banana peel

dani!!

"yellow like chetney's teeth"

kavern teeper

it's my speech impediment's worst nightmare

oh it's a bop

"do old people drink prune juice? no. old people do."

"COOK grape nuts??"

"pfft, bertrand bell. ....unless??"

"HOPEFULLY he wakes up"

roll to survive the night

The Longest Rest

okay scanlan

IMMORTAL GNOME

"so robbie" "OH NO"

the moral of dorian's story is never leave home

"I wouldn't have squashed them. I'd have used them against you."

I need this set to have a sofa

"this is a guy I wrote about for pretend and now he's here!"

"what do we do now? we're BOTH morons!"

dorian added to cyrus' bounty for emotional trauma

"I used the black card 'cause I was gonna get murdered!"

evil dorian au where's the art

"that explains the nice boots"

his inner akechi

the fireplace behind marisha is giving me residual anxiety from That One Live

it's not even real

"are you sure it was a dream?"

oh now we're giving travis anxiety

"I wanna be SPOOKY for campaign 3"

vex double confirm

Ziggaraut Blast, new mountain dew flavor

this puts a new angle on marisha and laura shittalking their own c1 characters

"I heard she's a BITCH"

(or were they talking about keyleth) (I'm not going through all my liveblogs to check)

The Keyleth

does werthers do the fruit swirl ones bc those are okay

"there wasn't a lot to do in the 50s"

werthers nanobots

that's a soundbite now

wethersnanobots.mp3

sagas of sundry ptsd

"believe in the me that believes in me"

"are these painted together"

okay LIAM

(speaking of my sagas ptsd)

oh that's a nice littel graphic

isn't it still webelos? I don't know enough about boy scouts to confirm

a 4th grader with travis' attention span

Peak Weird

"if MARISHA does something weird no one can clock me"

laudna: I am thou, thou art I

dariax truly is No Thoughts Head Empty

No Thoughts Head Empty as therapy

oh I can maybe relate to the lying thing

don't tell my friends

"can you put all of this on her tab"

oh custom tankards!

"be honest - are you too young to get Flight of the Navigator references"

PFFT he saw the dick out memes

"he lived! and he boned liev'tel!"

I hope they make sam pull out of his scanlan tankard

"always take a spa day" be selective with your spa

dickoutery

"LOOK AT DANI"

"I'm not on camera right now!" bring back danicam

ROBBIE you BITCH

FLOOF

can't believe robbie refused to answer omar, so rude

"I've loved werewolves since I was tiny" really I don't think we ever could have told that about you travis

that's fucking adorable

baby travis is why crayola markers are washable by default now

"this is my werewolf! :D"

"you can say chetney"

djfslk robbie's pops

"she needs a dead thing"

"when taliesin dresses you for renfaire - and he always does - you need more dead things hanging off of you"

this does not surprise me in the least

bribing this boy with so many treats

the subs just called taliesin "allison"

"you eating questions??"

chetney's class is Werewolf

that's how you become liam

"I want to get into the higher levels of blood hunter because...somebody needs to do it."

chetney writes paranormal romance and we all know it

where the sidewalk ends!

Dorian Doodles

howdoyouwannadothises

liam's done the dramatic flavor always

travis doing the wall of fire hand slide

it was iconic okay

"was it liam being extra or something you could do" both

"all the characters just get fuckin weirder"

"I never played before :D"

"I know what three buttons do"

I don't know who's playing walugi but I'm automatically rooting for them

oh MATT is playing waluigi

you are also a man of taste

.....of COURSE he's playing waluigi, I can't put the picture but YOU KNOW WHICH PICTURE

"DO YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES"

"this was the moment?" "YEAH"

my kid kicks my ass at mariokart. and most other video games.

"I'm TRYING to win mariokart but I'm dummy thicc and the clap of my asscheeks isn't aerodynamic"

Big Hands Little Controller is a Problem

ohhh my bananas

"good thing nobody games on twitch"

"how do I commit seppuku in mariokart"

"waluigi deserves it" take it back

"you insulted her by calling her her name?!"

"FUCK A BANANA PEEL"

crying at matt's fall from grace

"touch them, they're helpers! :D"

"I got a real dry bowser"

"can't underestimate the worst mariokart player ever"

The Sweeper

"I'm never coming back on this show again"

I've been your travis willingham

OF COURSE SAM DID A SONG

omar is Helping

why did the plushie just jumpscare me

[scarlethoodi]

Of course! I finished this book barely a few hours so everything is very fresh in my mind

1) I know it’s fictional world but I think the timeline the author set up just didn’t make any sense and for a futuristic technological advanced setting it should’ve been set idk a bit further in the future, but this isn’t my biggest issue I just think it’s a flimsy set up

2)The store calls the family’s gift weak but that really isn’t portrayed or explained well. Because if anything this is only relative depending on the gift or person. Like Kei’s gift if downright useless- I mean the ability to sense discomfort doesn’t make any goddamn sense. Meanwhile Keis’ gift of mind reading is actually good if she cared to learn how to use it. Alex’s gift only benefits her because of her passion so I guess that’s fine, a bit on the nose but still. And then with the adults it’s also a toss up depending on what gift you’re looking at.

Also let’s discuss if the risk is worth the reward cause her dad nearly died during his Calling and for what? A gentle touch

3)Auntie Elaine is both Voya’s dad’s sister and Alex’s mom who kind you is the oldest grandchild. So Elaine and Alex’s dad (I forget his name) got together and had a child and then later their siblings got together and had a child…yeah let’s take a minute with this

4)Speaking of the uncle what does it really mean to be genetically predisposed to addiction and if the technology was able to catch that 1)why start taking the substance in the first place and 2) can the technology not also help with the rehab

I’m all for exploring how things such as capitalism, discrimination, etc can affect a story so I settle on the idea that even with the technology poorer people who fall victim to their predisposed addictions suffer under these systems but still I can’t see the story even attempting to save that man and bring him back to the family

5) If Pure witches hate Impure ones so much then why is it that an Impure family is tasked with protecting Caribana? Like y’all clearly don’t care that much if you let this happen for the sake of 2 year protection and the same man who does the rituals teaches all of your children. Mind you who was more interesting than the whole Thomas family

6)The story keeps yo-yo ing on whether or not the family trust Voya but it doesn’t make sense for them to because she doesn’t have any leadership skill. But apparently she was chosen by both Mama Jova and her grandma cause she loved her family soooo much even though she really only hung out with Keis (and we saw what she did), constantly shittalked (in her head) the twin’s dad and was understandably not on the best terms with her dad. But yeah Alex “she’s the strongest of all of you,” Voya was at the very least childish but at worst ignorant and full of herself. Like who was she to get mad that the adults didn’t believe in her and went behind her back to perform an impure ritual to save Eden’s life. Mind you she showed multiple times she couldn’t/wouldn’t kill Luc. So the fact she’s rewarded at the end of everything just pissed me off.

7) I actually liked the idea of the sponsorship program and it’s seemingly “ethically” way of colonization (have emphasizes on the quotation). I mean that’s a premise in itself, taking children from lesser developed countries for set years to study over you with the looming threat that if you don’t prove your worth you be deport back to a place you haven’t seen in years.

8) The other witches (who names I don’t know as I had the audible): the woman who was cut off from both sides of her family despite being matriarch because her daughter was born without magic- this was actually an interesting segment. Combined with the later reveal that Elaine was trying to figure out how gene manipulation could save magic but ultimately failing. And so the timeline goes by the time the magic-less daughter reached 18 without a gift and within the week Elaine was murdered sacrificed and Justin lost his dad and spiraled off the deep end.

9) Why did no one care that Voya was hallucinating? Like even before attacking Luc she was doing it and intervention should’ve occurred earlier. Cause then she ruined the ritual and damn near died because of this. Like they just write it off as the side effects of long callings though the story also keeps debating whether or not it wants the belief of “long calling equal strong gifts” to be true or not.

10) Not only did Mama Jova task to “destroy your first love” make no sense and even less the choice Voya unforgivable choose but if the whipping scene was supposed to make sense of the task it didn’t, cause she didn’t do anything to her first love-they we’re both slaves and most likely would died that day if it weren’t for her magic lashing out after they boy was shot. And then for both Mama Jova and her grandma to be proud that she completed the task without any acknowledgment of what it truly means for Keis, you know the one who’s life was destroyed, but mind you this was all kinda pointless cause 1) if she touched Luc that day he’d still be alive anyways and 2) the adults bounded everyone’s magic to the house cause they were rightfully afraid of Voya failing.

And despite what the story wants you to think, she might as well have

Blood like Magic and why I’ll be considering myself a hater

@tea-and-a-clandestine-agenda

I’m going to start off by saying I’m 90% into the book, meaning I haven’t finished it yet but I know enough about it to criticise the fuck out of it. This is going to contain spoilers lol.

Firstly, that book cover is absolutely gorgeous. This book does have one (1) good thing and it is the very talented illustrator who created the cover —whoever they are, I applaud them because they made Voya look cool and not irritating and dumb.

The premise of the book is interesting. We’re in a near-future Toronto where witch communities exist. Now, these witches are unique in how their characteristic bit of magic is granted to them by their ancestors after they have their first Bleeding (aka period for whoever has a uterus and very gross eye-and-ear bleeding for whoever doesn’t). The process through which a witch acquires their unique magic goes as follows: after the Bleeding, one of their ancestors Call them, set a trial for them and if they pass, good for them! They have their magic now! If they don’t pass, they don’t get magic and are thus seen as pariahs by their fellow witches. Now, enter Voya Thomas. She’s part of Toronto’s Black witch community and has both African and Trinidadian ancestry —also, she likes to cook, a lot, food is her life and the very air she breathes. Voya has had her Bleeding and is Called by ‘Mama Jova’ —an ancestor who lived as a slave in Antebellum America and died being whipped to death by her enslavers after the love of her life was murdered. Mama Jova tells Voya she needs to ‘destroy her first love’; otherwise, her whole family will lose their magic and her little sister, whose life is tethered to that magic, will die. Therefore, Voya starts a journey trying to find her first love in Luc (a guy she meets in a conference at this mega-important company).

My first problem with the book is the very basis on which the plot stands. Never will I believe that a woman who saw her lover being murdered (and also who sacrificed herself in order to help other enslaved people escape their enslavers) entreated her descendant to ruin someone they hold close to their hearts. How? Just how? It’s stupid, it doesn’t make sense. She died saving other people and now she wants her descendant to suffer much like she did and she wants her descendant to orchestrate that? And she’s going as far as to promising to kill a child and ruin what she died to protect in order to get her way? I call bullshit. Utter, fucking bullshit. Mama Jova’s a joke, I tell you.

I tried to look pass that because this is the author’s debut novel and it has a high rating on Goodreads, though. I thought Mama Jova didn’t really mean what she asked Voya to do… but she did, and Voya handled it all in such a fucking stupid way. I can’t with her.

Okay, so in the process of trying to determine how she’s going to approach her task Voya:

Falls in love with Luc

Finds out that Luc’s ‘sponsor dad’ (aka the CEO of the mega-important company Luc works in, who is called, in-text, a neo-coloniser because he brought Luc to Canada from Mexico in order to brainwash him about the importance of his company) was responsible for the death of her forgotten aunt and the near-downfall of her whole community

Realises that Mama Jova wasn’t only referring to her first romantic love, but to her first platonic love, too, meaning that now Voya needs to choose whether to destroy Luc or her cousin Keis (aka her best friend)

Realises that Mama Jova’s ‘destroy’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘kil’: it can also mean ‘ruin their life’ which is so much better, right? Agh, Mama Jova is so charitable!

All throughout the book, Keis is Voya’s biggest support. She’s someone who wants to look beyond her witch identity and wants to get an education! She wants to work! Be independent! Be free from her family’s limitations! Towards the end of the book, Keis achieves just what she wants in the form of an internship in the mega-important company.

Now, if Voya were to choose to ruin Luc’s life, that would mean he wouldn’t be able to inherit his sponsor dad’s mega-important company (and spoiler: the sponsor dad is the bad guy of the story); if Voya were to choose to ruin Keis’s life, that would mean she would be trapped in her house forever, unable to forge herself a future, not even allowed to step foot out of her house. Luc is well-off, and having spent virtually all his formative years in the mega-important company, he can easily get a position elsewhere. Keis comes from a working-class family and having her life ruined = depending on her family for the rest of her life + not being allowed to leave her house.

So, Voya, as the paragon of common sense, chooses to *insert Semana Santa drums rolling* RUIN KEIS’S LIFE. I CAN’T STRESS THIS ENOUGH, SHE DAMNED HER BEST FRIEND AND COUSIN TO LIVING IN A PRISON ALL HER LIFE.

Her argument? ‘She’ll survive uwu’

Luc, obviously, won’t survive a life without his privileges.

Be fucking for real.

I hate this so much. So fucking much. And do you know what happens just after she ruins her cousins life? Luc’s sponsor dad kidnaps her whole family! Because you know he’s the villain! Voya could’ve killed him and she chose to imprison her cousin!

The last 10% of the book will tackle that, I suppose. Depending on how bad it’s handled I will choose whether to read the next book or not.

Now, ✨a list of the things I’m petty about✨

The family dynamic -> Voya’s family is comprised of: her cousin Keis, Kei’s twin sister Keisha (fun fact! Keis’s full name is also Keisha), her other cousin Alex, her mother, her father, her father’s current wife (this is a huge side-eye ngl), her half-sister (aka the one who could’ve died), Keis’s mother and father (who are divorced) and her grandmother (the matriarch of the family). The family has a lot of members, is somewhat messy, and I couldn’t connect with any of the characters. Also, you wouldn’t caught me dead living under the same roof with my divorced husband; I’m sorry but wtf

The technology -> just no. In this near-future Canada people can rate each other, find each other’s location with a click and more things out of that one Black Mirror episode, and no one bats an eyelash at this. If this is were the future I’m supposed to be an adult in, I promise I would commit a very rash decision and fling myself out my window, sorry not sorry. Morally, I’m against every technological advancement that this books stands for and it’s making me sick that the hyper-digitalisation is never discussed in anything but a bad light

People go around with a pronoun tags and they introduce themselves with a ‘hello my name is xyz and my pronouns are something/other’ and yet you have to show whether you have XX or XY chromosomes in your ID card? I’m sorry but we don’t showcase someone’s genetic makeup today, why would a more progressive society do it? What I’m going to say is going to sound horrible, but it just feels like a way to thrust in unnecessary transphobia for sake’s sake (I should add that the author’s cis)

Food -> Voya loves food, so much so that she makes her internal dialogue all about food. She could be describing a scene where Mama Jova or another person are being whipped to almost death and she would be comparing their blood to a crème brûlée or something. In fact, there are whipping scenes in the book and I believe she does compare them to food. It’s exhausting. She makes her whole personality about food and it’s exhausting

So-called impure witches -> the witch community is divided into impure witches (who kill and torture in order to gain heightened magic) and pure witches (who don’t) and I hate the very existence of impure witches. Apparently they pick their victims at random and that’s supposed to be fine by us? Voya’s family is one of pure witches, but still it makes me queasy how her internal dialogue somewhat implies that impure witches are uwu not that bad

There’s a line about a gay witch having used in-vitro fertilisation and surrogacy to have like six children. It made me uncomfortable because I’m very hesitant about surrogacy + apparently his children don’t want to know about their mothers, which seems like a very out-of-touch conception of surrogacy and other types of unconventional ways of starting a family. Idk, I’m on adoptee TikTok and it’s made me think about these things

I don’t like any of the characters aside from Keis and maybe Luc

[smylealong]

Losing Inhibitions

I have been wanting to do a "Drunk A'Wu shittalking Zitan". Orsuliya did her version, this is mine. Warning, this is completely OUT OF CHARACTER. F'Bombs flying left, right and center. So, proceed with caution and at your discretion. ETA: Forgot to add @orsuliya's version. Added it now.

Scene: After the battle of Huizhou, and Zitan's drunken confrontation of Xiao Qi, A'Wu and Yu Xiu are getting drunk out of their mind. Outside, Xiao Qi and his four puppies are listening.

______

"That fucking asshole!"

Outside, Xiao Qi raised his brows and exchanged a confused glance with Hu Yao. Who was his wife so mad at? He had never heard A'Wu this angry.

"Thinks I owe him love? LOVE? What the fuck? I fucking stood waiting for him in rain for five fucking hours and that fucker! He couldn't be arsed to get off his royal behind and fucker has the temerity to blame me! Fuck that noise!"

Tang Jin's undignified snort almost cracked Xiao Qi's composure. Almost. But he managed to hold his own laughter back. It wouldn't do to laugh at a prince.

"Then, in the middle of a fucking war... he has the absolute fucking balls to ask me, IN FRONT OF INJURED PEOPLE, to elope with his sorry ass?"

Xiao Qi turned to Huai'en and mouthed, he did that??

Huai'en's eyeroll said everything.

"Like fucker... look around! There is a bloody war! And you are their fucking Prince!! Fucking fuck!"

Okay... this was getting tough. How was he supposed to hold in his laughter if she continued this way? It did not help that Hu Yao and Tang Jin were pointedly looking everywhere but at each other with poorly concealed mirth on their faces.

"And how fucking convenient for him to simply... totally forget the tiny absolutely minuscule little detail that I.AM.MARRIED!"

At Guang Lie's snort, Xiao Qi turned to shoot a warning glare at the man, only to realize the pointlessness of the action. Guang Lie was clutching on to Huai'en as though his life depended on it, while the latter had his face scrunched in a valiant effort to contain his guffaw.

"My husband would shove his sword so far up your ass you wouldn't be able to poop for months!"

That comment did it. Xiao Qi's laughter was threatening to bubble over now. He had to stuff a fist to his mouth to stay quiet. Beside him, Hu Yao was doubled over, clutching her hands across her stomach. Tang Jin had his face hidden in his gigantic hands, his entire form trembling from the effort to stay quiet and if Guang Lie and Huai'en grabbed each other any tighter, one of them was going to break a bone.

"And... then... he has the balls... the absolute fucking balls to go to Xiao Qi and fucking challenge him? Asshole, forget Xiao Qi, you wouldn't be able to fight even a foot soldier from Ningshuo! And Xiao Qi? You wanna go to Xiao Qi? You will have not one, not two but four... four goddamn generals to get through. And any one of them would fucking destroy you, you confetti prince!"

At that, Xiao Qi lost his battle and the snort he had been holding back escaped his lips. As one, all four of his generals took off running. Even though they had locked themselves in a room some distance away, Xiao Qi could still hear the howls of their laughter. Chortling to himself, Xiao Qi walked away.

[creative-robot]

This is my request for more work stories!

Oh absolutely! 

For a little clarification, I’m a Host in the Restaurant part but the big main part of the building is the attached bakery/retail area up front so theres like, 5 different kitchens alone, I’ll refer to them by how I know them which is the Mixing kitchen, the Restaurant kitchen, and the other three that do baking stuff as the Baking Kitchens

This is in no special order at all just the order I remembered them

As a Host you would think I’d be on par with the servers but the truth is If the Manager isn't right there I'm pretty much in charge of the restaurant and do my best with what I have, which means I have to move. fast.

I just learned earlier this week that the entire packaging department can't remember my name so they just call me ‘The Speed Demon’ and honestly how dope is that I get complimented/shocked reactions to my speed every shift I don't know man I'm just gay and have shit to do

We once had a really confused drunk dude come in on Saint Patricks Day who seemed completely baffled by the idea of a restaurant so since it was hella dead and I was bored as all hell I entertained his drunk questions for like 45 minutes explaining how a restaurant works and what we make till he said bye and wandered out looking mildly bewildered still

We also had a drunk dude come in on a random dead Saturday (which was weird and I think it was while the GOT finale was airing, we have no TVs so I was. dying. from boredom), this was not a fun drunk and we had to call the cops on him for being creepy and after he was kicked out he walked around the parking lot and kept jumping to himself before circling the building a few times and leaving once the cop showed up. Cleaning the bathroom was disgusting after he left lemme tell ya

The dish manager and the kitchen manager are ALWAYS at odds with each other no matter who the dish manager is that month (Staff rotates real quick back there) and there's always shittalk being thrown across the hallway between them and occasionally a bottle, I once scolded both of them to stop acting like children cause a bottle smashed and it was loud and close enough to make my hearing go out for like three minutes and when they both just brushed me off I went straight to the owner and now it's pretty rare for glass, at least, to get thrown

Theres a stairway that leads to the upstairs offices and everyone just knows that they're either cursed or haunted, we don't talk about it but only the managers go up there and I've only been up them once and it was incredibly gut-churning so I haven't ever tried again

Life tip: Always be nice to your HR folks, they can help you

One of the baking kitchens kept stealing everyone else brooms and one day a server had just had ENOUGH and stormed back there to tell them what for. I didn't get to see what happened but I'm told the poor dudes back there were pale by the time she was done and now we have a cool new broom and dustpan that's labeled for the Restaurant and no more broom thefts for a while

Kids just like my aura or something cause everytime there's a kid in the restaurant they flag me down to chat a little and sometimes kids walk past an entire bakery of employees to ask me for help instead of them, I always pause to help them before adults or give them a little time to chat even when we’re busy and all the servers goodnaturedly tease me about it

What happens in the break room stays in the break room and anything said after someones clocked out won't be repeated, it's hilarious to watch the bakers calmly walk in, clock out, scan for someone in management, and then explode with frustration to whoever's in there. please be nice to cake bakers and decorators specifically they have to put up with SO MUCH SHIT BEHIND THE SCENES

Sometimes there’ll be free stuff in the Break Room ala extras, unsolds, or fucked up treats that are fine but they don't look sellable. This is rare for the front of house restaurant staff to get their hands on since we don't get lunch or proper breaks so retail always relays when there's goodies and we’re all enemies for a good five minutes as we grab stuff and shove it in our lockers before returning to normal but everyone goes feral for the breakfast sandwiches 

I’m unofficially Head Host so I know most of the regulars and they know not to pull shit on me and several of them take enjoyment watching me deflect non-regulars bs and often butt in when they won't give up to tell them to shove it since I just won't break or give in

The retail folks regularly use their lunch breaks to go scream in the big freezers and this is just expected and accepted

The Bakers also regularly go scream in the oven rooms, this is also just A Thing no one questions  

Theres only a little waiting room area between me and the bar so yes, I have been hit with wine corks before when they go flying and the newest bartender is already at three hits but honestly, I don't really care so whenever it happens I just say a random number of points and toss the cork in my trash

Someday I hope to catch it all cool and suave and that's prolly not gonna happen anytime soon but god I want to SO BAD

I once had a woman walk in with an entire soccer team and I had to be like ‘Lady we don't even have enough tables for all of you normally much less right at noon are you nuts’ and she refused to believe me or sit outside so when I quoted her an hour and a half she was PISSED and asked for my manager (who had been hiding behind the bar cause good lord do we get Karens a lot) who came over and explained that there was no way we could seat them and to have a good day and she went RED and stormed out with the team trailing behind her looking embarrassed. She attempted this three more times that week I'm not even joking 

White haired old ladies are constantly amazed and curious about us young’uns styles and while the servers get most of the enthusiastic questions about their gauges and tattoos and hairstyles I have had a few ask me what was even happening with my hair bc they loved it but ‘it's so different!’ (I have an all around undercut with only hair on top that goes down to my chin so I braid it up for work, it's baffling I guess lol) they genuinely love hearing about it and I’ve given a few of them tips for their kid's hair and style names, I just love it and had to mention it

Some of this is just me rambling lol but yeah my work is wack

[thelostcoastcalling]

Name: Bear Everett

Age: 30

Hometown: Homer, Alaska

Occupation: Ex-oil rigger, current bartender

Likes: Beer, the outdoors, motorcycles.

Dislikes: Shittalkers, texting, and status-driven people.

When you’re an Alaskan, there’s one thing more than any you learn how to do: endure. Enduring harsh winters, a special kind of violence only nature knows how to serve. Enduring people who’ve grown hardened by the wind and bitter by the cold. Enduring truths that people in cities far away never have to consider. It’s not that Homer was rampant with alcoholism and fighting so much as that it was an accepted status quo. Bear watched his dad beat on his mom from the time he was small…he was only nine when she walked into the ocean on a rainy February night, stones in her pockets and bruises on her arms. Bear’s father wasn’t suited to fatherhood so much as he was suited to drinking a case of beer every other night–single fatherhood even less so. He got Bear a job behind the one bar in Homer that hadn’t kicked the old drunk to the curb–Bear was tall for his age, and at fifteen he looked nearly twenty. For the next four years, Bear helped his father turn his liver to paste for $9 an hour, collecting enough to move out to a remote village to start work on an oil rig when he was eighteen.

Life on the rig suited Bear. Nobody bothered him, and the women in town were always happy to see a man with a decent income and muscles that told tales of hard work. Bear was restless, though…he was always so damn restless. When his father got into trouble with the law and the authorities came hunting for someone to pick up the pieces, Bear hitched his way through Alaska and Canada to northern Washington where he scraped together enough dough to buy a motorcycle, putting some of his mechanical skills from the rig to use fixing old beaters and chopping them for parts. When the owner of the chop shop started to get threats from law enforcement, Bear hot-wired one of the beaters, grabbed the neglected puppy that lived in the garage, and was on the road once again.

With a little money in his pocket and his motorcycle hitched to the bed of the ‘70s-era Ford, Bear rolled up in Dayton with nothing but couple grand to his name, a stolen pup, and freedom. After bouncing around his entire life and much-repressed childhood trauma, Bear is ready to find a gig making some money and trying to figure out what it feels like to be committed to something other than survival.

[flve-hargreeves]

( chris wood, 28, he/him ) class is in session for ANSEM WARBECK. their resume says they’re a WITCH and they’ve been teaching MENTAL MAGIC at the academy for THREE YEARS. the psychological report says they are LETHARGIC and CONTEMPTUOUS, but they’re also IRONWILLED and COMPASSIONATE. we wish them good luck in the new school year.  

— * | ansem warbeck is the oldest child of ragnor and celena warbeck. he has a twin brother named arson and while they are identical, they couldn’t be more different. both ragnor and celena are influential members of the magical community and always prided themselves on having a stellar reputation. stellar isn’t quite so stellar though; they are morally gray.  they  never get into dark magic themselves, but their family has profited heavily from it over the years.  ( think … war profiteers, i guess.  they never get their hands dirty but they have plenty of blood money ).  arson is the dutiful son, the good son, and ansem’s always been the disappointment who couldn’t live up to their expectations.  ( the michael bluth )

 ansem was never good at doing what he was told and rebelled against the behaviours his parents tried to ingrain in him. he never listened, always liked to do his own thing, and never bought into the whole ‘pureblood supremacy’ thing that they tried to drill into his head.  so what if they came from an old witch family? la creme de la crop? magic was magic. he figured if you could do it, you were just as good as anyone else.  ( his family disagreed. )  he  started  at  arcanas  when  he  was  eleven,  like  his  descendants  before  him,  and  was  a  member  of  house  aquis.  

       personality wise, ansem is sharp, sarcastic, and doesn’t have a high tolerance for people. the list of people he dislikes is longer than those he likes. he likes to have a good laugh ( sometimes at the expense of others ) and isn’t one to take on responsibility. ironic, given he’s now teaching at the school he used to go to. for someone as intelligent as he is, he does the least amount of work possible and does well but never really exceeds his own expectations. he’s incredibly lazy and can usually be found snacking or napping around the school.

 shortly after graduation he worked as a for hire curse breaker.  if there was a hex you couldn’t undo, or a curse on your family name, he was the guy you called to fix it.  he was good too.  it was only after a curse backfired and nearly killed him that he got scared and backed out of it. the fear was greater than the love he had.  arcanas was safe, a reminder of good days (and far far away from his family) so he was happy to ya yeet out of the real world.  less than a year after graduation, he was enrolled at a magical college and eventually became a mental magic teacher.

 another  point  of  irony,  given  how  much  he  claims  to  hate  people,  is  the  story  of  how  a  twenty/twenty one  year  old  mess  accidentally  adopted  an  eleven  year  old.   it  was  an  assignment  from  one  of  the  teachers  or  housemasters,  a  mentorship  program  between  tenth  and  first  years.  he  was  assigned  jade  brantley  and  at  first  ?  oh  boy  did  he  hate  her.   or  rather,  the  responsibility  he  felt  towards  her.   it  became  pretty  evident  the  more  he  got  to  know  her  that  they  were  put  together  for  a  reason.   her  family  had  sent  her  to  arcanas  without  so  much  as  a  second  look  and  couldn’t  have  cared  less  if  they  ever  saw  her  again.   she  stayed  behind  at  the  school  for  christmas,  as  did  he  to  avoid  tense  family  dinners  with  the  warbecks,  and  that  was  when  their  mentorship  started  to  become  more  like  family.   

by  the  end  of  the  year,  he  looked  at  her  like  —  his  kid,  if  he  was  being  honest.   it  was  kind  of  terrifying,  wanting  to  protect  another  person  from  the  realities  of  their  life,  but  he  knew  it  was  the  right  decision  to  make.  it  helped  that  his  partner  agreed;   they’d  come  to  care  about  jade  in  those  months  too,  and  they  both  knew  it  was  the  right  call.   he  contacted  her  parents,  assumed  temporary  guardianship,  and  she  moved  in  with  them  that  summer  after  they  graduated.   (  the individual that set all of this up,  the  cheeky  bastard,  sent  them  a  potted  plant  as  a  housewarming  gift.   a  plant  that  would  have  needed  to  have  been  potted  SIX  MONTHS  EARLIER.   he’d  be  mad  about  getting  played  if  he  wasn’t  so  happy.  )

they  formally  adopted  jade  a  few  years  later.  they  were  already  family  in  everything  but  blood  and  name  —  it  was  simply  a  formality.   the  three  of  them  —  four,  if  you  counted  jessica  the  cat  (  famously  known  for  stepping  on  faces  )  —  had  been  more  of  a  family  than  any  of  his  blood  relatives  had  ever  been.     he’s  never  regretted  his  choices.

that  being  said,  things  weren’t  always  happy.  he  and  his  partner  fought  a  lot,  sometimes  over  nothing  and  couldn’t  remember  why  they  ever  loved  each  other  in  the  first  place.  but  this  isn't  a  story  about  vindictive  exes,  it's  about  two  people  that  do  love  each  other,  probably  always  will,  but  just  didn't  love  being  together  anymore.  they're  excellent  co-parents  to  their  adopted  daughter  and  they're  working  their  way  back  to  being  best  friends  even  though  it's  a  little  awkward.  they  split  up  roughly  three  years  ago,  shortly  after  ansem  started  teaching  at  arcanas.

he  was  a  bit  of  a  mess  that  first  year,  i  won’t  lie.  he  probably  drank  too  much,  smoked  like  a  chimney,  and  was  trying  to  remember  how  to  be  a  person  instead  of  1/2  of  a  couple.  he’d  been  with  his  partner  almost  his  entire  life,  it  was  a  process  —  discovering  himself  again.  he  eventually  started  seeing  jude  montague  (  who,  ironically,  he’d  always  had  a  schoolboy  crush  on  when  he  was  a  student  )  who  also  taught  at  the  school.  one  thing  led  to  another  and  they’ve  recently  taken  things  to  the  next  level:  they  got  married.   ansem’s  still  a  little  terrified  this  one  is  going  to  go  belly  up  too,  that  he’s  going  to  mess  things  up,  but  they’re  still  in  the  newlywed  phase  so  he’s  not  quite  as  pessimistic  on  their  outlook.   it  also  helps  that  his  family  hates  jude:   1.  he’s  much  older,  even  without  the  whole  phoenix  thing,  2.  he’s  not  a  pureblood  witch  who  comes  from  a  good  family  name,  and  3.  he’s  a  man.   yeah,  celena  warbeck  was  not  happy  and  threatened  to  cut  him  off.   she  didn’t,  of  course,  but  his  father  hasn’t  spoken  a  single  word  to  him  ever  since  they  got  married.  it’s  a  game  now,  trying  to  see  if  he  can  say  or  do  something  to  make  him  break.  so  far,  he  hasn’t  won.  

 when  he’s  not  staying  at  arcanas,  watching  over  his  water  demons,  he’s  at  his  house  nearby.   now  that  he’s  married  jude,  however,  the  clan  (  bc  ansem  doesn’t  go  anywhere  without  jade,  jessica,  and  by  extension  kit  )  will  be  moving  into  his  definitely-haunted  house  nearby.  it’s  an  old  victorian,  fits  jude’s  goth  boy  aesthetic  perfectly,  and  tbh  as  long  as  it  has  decent  wifi  and  an  espresso  machine?  he’ll  be  fine.  

     he’s been teaching mental magic at arcanas academy for three years, so connections can be assumed with other staff members and students !!   he’s also been the housemaster for aquis, who he refers to as his water demons, so that’s opportunities for connections too! ( there’s also a 99% chance he calls all of his students by pokemon names. sorry not sorry. )   he’s  your  typical  panic  first,  think  logically  later,  type  person,  so  if  he  heard  about  the  orb  being  stolen  he’d  fear  for  their  inevitable  demise.   y’know,  chaotic  and  assuming  the  worst  case  scenario  from  the  get  go.

so that’s basically him in essence.  see some quick stats below for more tidbits.

*

— * | BASICS !

NAME: — ansem ragnorius warbeck.

NICKNAME(S): — ansem.

PRONOUNS: —he/him.

AGE/DOB: — twenty seven / july 25th.  (  he’s  almost  28,  so  don’t  @  me  )

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: — pansexual.

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: — panromantic.

ETHNICITY: — caucasian.

NATIONALITY: — british.

HOMETOWN: — manchester, uk.

EDUCATION: — he previously attended  arcanas, aquis house.  four  years  @  a  magical  college  near  aurora  /  arcanas  school. 

— * | PERSONALITY !

STAR SIGN: — leo.

PERSONALITY TYPE: — ESTP.

ALIGNMENT: — chaotic neutral.

PHOBIA(S): — enclosed spaces, clowns, snakes.

VICE(S): — cynicism, impatience, vindictiveness, spitefulness.

VIRTUE(S): — accountability, candor, realism, honesty, loyalty.

— * | RELATIONS !

PARENT(S): — ragnor and celena warbeck.

SIBLING(S): — arson warbeck ( twin brother. )

SIGNIFICANT OTHER(S): —  married.

— * | PHYSICAL !

FACECLAIM: — chris wood.

HEIGHT: — 6'0.

WEIGHT: — 71kg.

EYE COLOR: — brown.

HAIR COLOR: — brown.

GLASSES/CONTACTS: — n/a.

TATTOOS: — n/a.

PIERCINGS: — n/a.

SCARS: — jagged scar across his collarbone.

— * | MEDICAL !

ALLERGIES: — shellfish.

SMOKING/ALCOHOL/DRUGS: — former smoker. he hasn’t had a cigarette in approx. 112 days.  he drinks more than he should.  no drug use.

DIAGNOSES: — n/a.

BLOOD TYPE: — universal donor.

***

AESTHETICS:

NEATLY  TRIMMED  BEARD,  LAZY  SMIRKS,  SARCASTIC  QUIPS.  THE  MICHAEL  BLUTH.  REAL  LIFE  NATHAN  DRAKE.  BLEEDS  COFFEE  NOT  BLOOD.  UNHEALTHY  OBSESSION  WITH  TEEN MAGAZINE  QUIZZES.

CONNECTIONS  

students  with  an  aptitude  for  mental  magic  that  he  provides  additional  /  advanced  work  for  to  challenge  them.  (2/2)  dominic masters & rome hawks.

students  who  need  extra  help  in  one  or  more  of  the  aspects  of  his  curriculum.  this  would  include  after  hours  help,  extra  assignments,  or  one  on  one  attention  if  they  were  struggling  with  concepts  (1/4):  ella  bloom.

students  that  give  him  a  hard  time  in  class  for  one  reason  or  another.  could  be  people  who  sleep  in  class,  talk  back,  distract  others,  etc.  (1/??):  morgan  stife.

the  unholy  trinity:  fellow  teachers  who  like  to  get  together  and  be  chaotic,  shittalk  their  students,  and  forget  they’re  not  seventeen  anymore  bc  they’re  fucking  idiots  who  like  to  troll  (2/2):  maximus & reserved

fellow  teachers  who  like  to  get  together  and  drink  wine  after  stressful  days,  or  just  when  they  feel  like  it  tbh.  (1/????)  maxwell gray.

a  rival/enemy  from  when  he  was  @  arcanas  who  now  also  works  at  arcanas.  he  can’t  remember  why  they  don’t  like  each  other  but  he’s  dedicated  to  the  feud.  it’s  petty,  he  knows, but  he  sucks  at  admitting  he’s  wrong.  (0/1)

ex-wife.  see  wanted  connections.  (0/1)

childhood  friend.  fellow  witches  who  would  have  hung  around  people  who  were  haughty  and  thought  they  were  better  than  everyone  else.  ansem’s  parents  thought  they  were  hot  shit  so  maybe  their  parents  felt  the  same.  they  both  rebelled  against  what  their  parents  wanted  for  them  and  it  bonded  them.  (0/1)

partner  in  crime.  (28  years  old)  this  person  was  very  different  from  ansem.  different  species,  a  little  more  serious,  the  kind  of  person  you  wouldn’t  expect  to  be  friends  with  him.  they’re  probably  the  only  reason  ansem  even  passed  his  exams,  forced  to  study,  and  he  forced  this  friend  to  actually  have  fun  and  live  a  little.  they’re  still  close  but  maybe  fell  out  of  touch  over  the  years.  this  person  would  be  new  to  arcanas  as  a  staff  member,  or  teacher,  but  would  be  an  alumnus  preferably  from  house  aquis  but  could  be  any.  

others  to  be  added  when  it  isn’t  2am  and  my  brains  fried.

[petty-revenge-stories]

Don't insult someones looks without being prepared for revenge

So, I'm a first time poster. Ignore if I haven't used all the proper etiquette that usually happens in these things, but earlier this week I thought to share this story and I'm sure it won't disappoint!

As long as I can remember, there's been bad blood between my mom and my Aunt C. My mom and C aren't related, C being married to my dad's brother, but now they've known each other for around 14 years, as far as I know.

When my mom was 24, she had just had her second kid, my now thirteen-year-old brother, and was attending a friends wedding, at which C was also at as my uncle's date. This was soon after they got together, so my mom and her hadn't had much time to adjust to being around each other civilly. At some point in the night, C called my mom fat (why would you say that when she just had a child!) and my mom awesomely responded with, "I can lose the weight but you'll always look like Michael Jackson." It's really epic and scarily accurate.

Throughout the last few years my aunt C has gotten more shitty-- there's a lot I could get into there, but the worst was when she told my grandma that she felt my mom was stealing her attention away b/c my mom was diagnosed with cancer 4 days after C's first son was born. This story takes place three months ago, so my mom and I were shittalking her regularly at this point, and I came up with the perfect plan.

Here's just a summary of my perfect revenge plan, which took place at my grandma's christmas party 2018:

My grandma was talking about how similar my dad and his brother, C's husband, look. My mom said in a loud whisper to me, "Almost like a Man in the Mirror". C was a few feet behind us and I'm sure she heard.

Me and all of my cousins, most being 4 and under, along with all of the wives, my mom and C included. My other aunt was having her son point out colors to learn them. My mom, yet again, loudly whispered to me, "Black or White". I choked on my drink when C blushed.

My grandma made me and my brother get into a "cousins photo" with all the little toddlers around. While C was handing me her daughter to hold, my brother said, "This is such a Thriller." I almost dropped the child (I didn't, but I came close).

My little cousin had one of those obnoxious loud toys that sang songs. It was doing the ABCs. My mom sang part of ABC by The Jackson 5. While C wasn't there for this one, my other aunt, who was in on the joke, laughed extremely hard.

Last but not least, my one comment of the night, when we were getting ready to leave, I whispered to my mom, "I guess you could say it's time to Beat It." My mom repeated the joke louder to my other aunt, just enough so C heard, and my dad had to leave the room.

Nothing got accomplished by this and I can't be sure she got all of them, and I may be getting details wrong since it was a few months ago and such a small collection of incidents, but I've never taken part in something as epic as that.

(source) story by (/u/lilhoe03)

[jcmorrigan]

Notes from a Racecar Bed

The F/O? Giovanni Potage from Epithet Erased. The S/I? Rachel Scribere - mundie, writer of much fanfiction, independent contractor supervillainous minion who has also given up on adulting. (Most of those things apply to me IRL!) I’m only YT-current, not VRV-current, and it’s been four episodes, so I’m well aware this ship could get sunk at any time. I’m just having fun while I can. AU where I have a more “normal” job based on real-life events but do evil on the side. This ficlet features some sensuality (though no overt sexuality), discussion of illegal activities I only do in my fantasies and would never do IRL, and a blatant admission of how many ASMR videos I have watched, because cringe culture is now dead on my blog.

***

         Like so many nights before, sitting on the racecar bed, me with my legs crossed, him curled behind me. So lucky he likes to spoil his favorite minion, I thought.

           Though given who we were, it wasn’t a sexual tantalization. No, he’d found the weak spots in my shoulders. His fingers would dig into them for less than a minute and I would be like a collapsing water balloon.

           “ – and then she fuckin’ waves me over, even though I’m helping that other guy,” I rant, “and I have to just up and abandon the dude and walk over to see what she wants, and it turns out her card doesn’t have enough money on it, surprise surprise, but oh noooooo she can’t possibly believe that, but I’ve got this guy waiting, so I go bug my manager, and she’s trying to tell me she’s on the phone, but I see this lady about to EXPLODE so I tell her that this CAN-NOT-WAIT, and long story short, that’s why this Saturday, I really need to get some cash the good old-fashioned illegal way.”

           “What, like tricking a gas station clerk into leaving his station for just long enough that you can get behind the counter and steal an entire pack of scratch lottery?”

           “…That was incredibly specific, Gio.”

           His left hand kept massaging my shoulder; his right disappeared, and I could hear the nightstand drawer opening. “Prepare yourself,” he teased. “You’re about to tell me I’m the best boyfriend-slash-boss you could ever have in three…two…”

           A pack of scratch lottery, thicker than a deck of cards, was tossed rather unceremoniously onto the blanket in front of me.

           “Oh my GOD!” You’d think that would have been a scream of dismay and horror, but I’d lost my morals a long time ago. I picked the pack up with glee. “You even got the crosswords!”

           “I know how much you love a good puzzle.”

           “This is so gonna help me pass the time at my car appointment.”

           I could feel him wincing as his right hand returned to my shoulder. “Just don’t, y’know, bring the whole thing to the dealership. Because if they see you with that – well, I learned that the HARD way.”

           “Yeah, I bet you – “ I realized what didn’t add up. “Dealership? You drive a fucking Vespa.”

           “WHICH YOU CAN GET AT DEALERSHIPS!”

           “Fair point. Anyway, I’ll just sneak like five into my book.”

           He ended it the way he always did – halting slowly, then dragging both palms down my back. I shivered, and I knew he noticed. “No offense, but I think my thumbs are gonna fall off.”

           “I thought that was longer than usual.” I then stopped to ponder it. “…Have I ever tried on you?”

           “Wait, what?”

           “Have I ever tried massaging YOUR shoulders?”

           I could hear a snicker from behind. “You know, that actually sounds amazing and quite well-deserved on my part.”

           “Well, then let’s switch places, dork.”

           First, I turned about to look up into his eyes, their gold flecks reflecting off the irises. God, I could call my eyes “the color of ocean at twilight” in parody fanfic 365 days out of the year and that wouldn’t change the fact that they were the dullest possible mix of blue-green-gray. And his eyes…they always sparkled.

           His lips curled into a sly smile, his fangs peeking out beneath his upper lip. “Are you lost in my eyes again? I must say, I can’t blame you.”

           I flushed, turning away instinctively. His hand beneath my chin, turning my gaze back up to meet his, changed that.

           “Uh…hi?” I said rather nervously. Still wondering how this happened. How I could have been with someone for this long, nestled into him atop a racecar bed with his hands on my shoulders for half an hour, and still get so anxious about him.

           “You know, Composer…” He was now smirking broadly. “Your eyes are the color of this one sapphire necklace I stole once. But also kinda mixed with the color of the worst bruise I’ve ever gotten. And man, was I proud of that bruise. And that necklace. Actually, I’m pretty sure I got those on the same day…the point is, they’re beautiful. Your eyes, I mean.” He pinched the hinge of my glasses, pushing them closer to my face.

           Part of me I kept wanting gone but he obviously didn’t.

           “Thank you,” I practically choked. “They’re…nothing compared to yours.”

           “Well, mine are the best, but yours are a really close SECOND best!”

           Now I was the one practically laughing. “Just switch with me.”

           As we crawled around each other, I couldn’t help but admire his frame – I always did. Just something about his slender lankiness that made my heart speed up. Even sitting, he was taller than me, just by a bit, but enough that I felt dwarfed. Now I was faced with his shoulders, and above that, the fluffy fringes of his cotton-candy hair.

           A lump rose in my throat; I was almost too nervous to start. After all, there was a very decent chance I sucked at this. I just tried to remember how I wanted it done; do unto others. I lay hands on him, beginning to work. “So tell me,” I urged, “what minor nuisances pissed you off today?”

           “Well, I almost had to change Car Crash’s name to Vespa Crash.”

           “Ouch.”

           “Then there was the person with the whole ‘Anvil’ Epithet. Whose Epithet is ANVIL? I was lucky to get ou – I mean I was lucky to get a way better Epithet than that. I mean, Soup is better than ANVIL, right? But I was always going to get out of there with – “

           He gave a sudden, sharp intake of breath, and my hands froze. I had just remembered how much I enjoyed when he dug into the very hollows of my shoulders, that all-too-often tense spot leading up to my neck, and had been attempting to mimic that. Probably a bad idea. “Did that hurt?” I asked softly.

           To my surprise, he replied, “That…did the exact opposite of hurt. Keep doing it?”

           “…Yeah. Okay. Sure.”

           As I resumed, I found myself compelled to ask: “So, did that, like, turn you ON or – “

           “Of course not, but this might be the closest I can get.”

           “Well, you know you can always promote yourself to demi at this point and I won’t even be mad.” I gave my left hand a break to flick at the ends of his hair. “I won’t be able to help you with any of it, but – “

           “That’s not in your contract, Composer. Don’t even worry about it.”

           “Duly noted, Boss.”

           I had been better at mimicry than I had expected. He was practically melting back toward me, his shoulder-flesh sinking beneath my hands. That was when I got a rather devilish idea. “You know…I may or may not have a few other tricks up my sleeve.”

           “Oh, yeah? Well, play them on me and let’s see how well I withstand them.”

           “You know the sheer volume of ASMR videos I watch, right?” This room being one of the few places I could bring that up and know I wouldn’t be mocked for it. Same way he could wear pink tie-dye pajamas and not hear any shittalk from me. “I’ve learned things. Things you wouldn’t believe.”

           “Come on. I’ll believe anything from you, Composer.”

           “Then don’t say you weren’t warned.”

           I let his shoulders alone, sliding my right hand up into his bubblegum-pink hair. Struck once again by how ridiculously soft it was. He seriously put time into it. I started off in the traditional method – just working the skin of the scalp, same way as the shoulders.

           “Seriously?” he taunted. “I mean, sure, it’s good, but this is just level-one stuff. Even I could – “

           That little devil took over, and I changed tactics, using the gentlest of pressures to scratch through his hair with my fingernails.

           “…Now thaaaaat’s more like level three.”

           “I finally get to spoil you for once,” I said cheekily.

           “Well, outside of the general gratification that automatically comes with recruiting you as an independent-contractor minion.”

           “You’re sweet.”

           “Yeah, well, that’s our secret, remember?”

           “What secret?”

           “About me be – “ He got it then. “I mean. Yeah. Right. I didn’t say anything. You don’t know what I’m talking about.”

           He then flinched and gave a light “Yeep!”. I’d changed tactics yet again – lightly grabbing the roots of his hair and giving a mild tug.

           “Did that hurt?” I asked, a new wave of anxiety suddenly washing over me.

           When he warbled “No,” I could hear that it wasn’t the tone of someone in pain – it was the tone of someone who wanted more of that. So I dealt more out, lightly pulling locks on the left, the right, near the front, near the back of his head.

           “I really did underestimate you on this front,” he admitted. “You know now you have to do this more often.”

           “You keep doing my shoulders and it’ll be an even trade.”

           “This is actually…really, REALLY relaxing…I could almost just…”

           It was gentle yet sudden, him falling back onto me, pinning me to the headboard. The back of his head was nestled onto my right shoulder, nuzzling close to my own face.

           “What,” I teased, “you’re falling asleep already?”

           He didn’t answer. Just snuggled a little closer back to me, like I was some sort of body pillow. That was when I realized he actually had fallen asleep on me – quite literally.

           “Gio!” I hissed, poking his shoulder. “Giovanni! Wake up!” Though I didn’t say it quite as loud as I could have. “I can’t sleep pinned up like this!”

           He wasn’t moving, sound asleep.

           Great.

           I contemplated just shifting his position, laying him down properly or just scooting out from behind him. However, that ran the risk of a rude awakening, and…I just couldn’t. He was twice as adorable asleep as usual, and considering that average, that’s a pretty amazing statistic.

           So I decided to try and make the best of it. Sure, I was pinned up against the seat of a faux car, but I had once bragged that I could fall asleep anywhere. (The airplane proved me wrong when I had no idea how to recline the seat, of course. Not a good sign in this case.) I tossed my glasses lightly to the nightstand and shut my eyes, attempting to make myself comfortable pinned between a crime boss and a hard place.

           Strangely enough, it eventually actually worked, somewhat. I could finally feel that state just before sleep when none of your thoughts seem to make sense, turning into a frieze of colors that make up surreal images as the opening act for dreams.

           However, I was just awake enough to be aware of a few things, if not so much to respond to them. One was of a weight being lifted off my chest and shoulder. The sound of a soft curse. A pair of hands gently locking over my forearms, and suddenly, things weren’t so vertical and solid anymore – perpendicular, much softer. (The mattress. I figured that out the next morning when I woke up in the usual position.) A muttering of words that I’m pretty sure were “There we are…nice and cozy.” Then, eventually, the pressure of a second body beside mine, clinging on like I was a life raft in the sea of somnolence, the only thing keeping us both afloat in the dream-realm.

[em-be-lievable]

The long drive home. (Ch 2)

Fic Title: The long drive home.

Chapter Title: A night without stars.

Warnings: angst like woah, mild alcohol abuse, awkward conversations, smoking, minor confrontation

Word count: Around 3000, it’s a short lil thing.

Summery: Roman made a mistake. He knew from the beginning that he had completely fucked up. But he never knew how much he’d regret it until Patton looked at him and all the stars in those big blue eyes were gone.

Author’s Note: This fic is incredibly therapeutic to write. Next DWAU coming soon, I just had to get this out and away from me.

Pairings: Past Royality, Moxiety, Logince, Remani, Former familial DLMP, Familial PattonxEmile- honestly it’s a mess, just go with it. 

Previous chapter is here, and it’s also available on AO3!

———————————————————————————————————

Roman had fucked up.

Roman had fucked up really badly. 

He had known he’d fucked up. Made peace with the destruction, and vowed to do better once he was able to see Patton again.

But he never really realized the extent of the damage until he was standing face-to-face with his mistake. All at once it seemed like every little red flag and every little warning sign finally hit him and it became clear that there wasn’t anything he was able to do to take it back. To make things how they used to be.

He had ruined it, like he always did. He just ruined everything good in his life beyond repair.

Roman felt like he was cracking apart as he meekly raised a hand to wave at Patton. Patton smiled at him and waved back, but it was wrong. The smile was not a beaming, shining display like he remembered. It was the same smile Pat used for strangers he met during his old customer service jobs. 

All the love and adoration Roman had been used to getting from Patton was gone. And something about that hurt him so much more than he'd expected it to. 

“Are you going to go in, or just stand in the doorway all night?” Logan sighed, pushing past Roman and moving into the living room either oblivious of the tension, or simply uncaring of it. The lankier boy maneuvering flawlessly through the crowd of people to get to the bar and throw back the first container of alcohol he came in contact with. 

"Salutations, Patton.” He stated flatly, “I hope you're doing well.” 

“Ehe, nice to see you too, Logan!” Patton giggled from the bar and Roman resisted the urge to cry. This scene was wrong. Logan and Patton were supposed to be best friends- Patton was supposed to throw himself onto Logan and cuddle him, and Logan was supposed to grumpily protest despite loving the affection. This exchange didn't feel like two long time friends reuniting, it felt like two aquaintances passing each other on the street. "How's the book coming along?”

"UUUGGGGHHHHH-” Logan groaned, throwing back yet more alcohol. “I'm going to kill Stephanie.”

Patton chuckled lightly, but the true mirth he'd hold for Logan's more dramatic responses was missing. “Is that your publisher?” 

“Yes.” Logan sighed putting his head on the bar top. “She pushed back the release date of the second book. Again. I swear, I don't know what requires so much time- Just publish the damn thing already!”

Patton laughed again into his cup and Roman was still resisting the urge to scream. That wasn't the way Patton laughed at their antics. Patton's laugh was supposed to be more bubbly, more genuine. This wasn't the Patton Roman knew anymore. The one from high school, who loved them more than anything. This was a stranger wearing a Patton suit. Someone Roman didn't know.

His entire being cried out for the real Patton, but no answer ever came. Just fake, sugary sweet smiles and hollow laughs in a mock performance of the Patton he had remembered. This new changeling of a man was all that was left. 

And one way or another, Roman was going to have to deal with it. “Long time no see, Patton! What’s new with you.” He tried, plastering on his best, fake brave face as he maneuvered around the crowed to join Logan at the bar.

“Oh y’know. Same old stuff as before.” Patton laughed out effortlessly, before tossing back the remains of his cup. Something in Roman frowned at this. That…didn’t seem like a real answer.

“Yeah? And what does that ‘same old’ entail?” He tried again, awkwardly chuckling in an attempt to lift the grim mood he was feeling.

“Oh you know! I’m still working too much, and playing video games when I’m not working.” Patton shrugged. “Can I get you a drink?”

Another fake answer from Patton, that left a distaste in Roman’s mouth. Why was Patton avoiding telling him anything? What was his job? What did he do? What video games was he playing? It felt like every option to delve closer into Patton’s personality was being blocked. Like Roman was doing nothing but running into walls.

When did Pat become so guarded? “Sure, I’ll take whatever you’re having.” 

Patton made a somewhat disapproving face, and the sorrow in Roman turned slightly defensive. “Are you sure? There’s alcohol in this.” 

“I am aware.” Roman sighed back.

“Roman drinks now, Pat.” Emile chimed in, trying to provide fillers into the holes of Patton’s memory.

“Oh? Really? You were so staunchly against alcohol as a kid!” Patton giggled, shrugging before fixing Roman the drink.

‘Yeah, and so were you.’ Roman thought to himself, but didn’t dare to voice aloud. ‘When did that change?’ 

“Here ya go, kiddo!” Patton chirped, handing over a plastic cup full of dark liquid over to to Roman. Roman grunted a quick ‘thank you,’ before going to take a sip. Maybe alcohol will make this exchange easier.

However upon tasting the bitter, and burning liquid on his tongue, Roman quickly spat up the sip back into his cup. Patton giggled. “Whoops! Guess I should have warned you- I make strong drinks.” 

‘Strong is an understatement!’ Roman whined internally, as someone- probably Logan, patted his back. ‘This is practically a cup full of straight rum!’ “Yeah, geez Pat.” He coughed out a bit. “How are you able to drink that stuff?” 

Patton shrugged, taking a big gulp of his own newly fixed drink. Roman winced for him. “College changed me, as a man.” 

‘Yeah, I can see that.’ Roman grumbled to himself, pouring in a bit more soda to make the drink more tolerable. ‘What the hell happened to you?’ 

Before he could open his mouth and try to fix this painfully awkward conversation, someone new entered and Patton enthusiastically went to go greet them. Roman watched from his seat, sorrow, anger, and confusion filling his heart.

“He certainly has changed.” Logan hummed from his seat besides Roman, earning a cautious look from Emile.

“‘Changed’ is an understatement! He’s a completely different person!” Roman whined eyes still glued to the bright blue of Patton’s back. “Emile who is that and what have they done with Patton?!” 

“Guys, be nice.” Emile sighed, taking a few empty cups and throwing them into the trash nearby. “He’s been through a lot recently. It might take some time for him to warm up to you again.” 

“It would certainly be nice to know what that ‘a lot’ is.” Roman grumbled bitterly, turning back to his cup. “Is it just me, or did he just dodge all of my questions?” 

“Roman.” Emile sighed, “Stop taking this so personally, alright? Don’t forget, we had to deal with Dee for months after you left. It’s natural for him to be a little distrusting.” 

Roman glared into his cup. Right, Dee. The little shit who tore up their friendship completely, but not all on his own.

It was true, Roman and Logan decided they couldn’t take it anymore. All of the lies, the shittalking behind everyone’s back- it had made them both paranoid to the point they didn’t want to be around any of the old members of their friend-group anymore. Like they couldn’t trust anyone in affiliation with Dee anymore. So Logan and Roman cut all ties with Dee and everyone else in favor of working on their book. 

Not for lack of trying though. Patton tried desperately to fix the situation. To make everyone happy, or at the very least keep some semblance of a relationship with Roman and Logan. And they…just shut him out. Roman was so frightened that everything he said would make it’s way back to Dee. That any information could be used against him.

He imagined he acted quite the same way at Patton as Patton was acting now. But the threat was gone; none of them talked to Dee anymore.

So what was Patton so afraid of?

—-

Patton liked being drunk way more than he probably should.

In his defense, he was a happy, bubbly drunk. Under the influence he loved people, and felt like nothing could hurt him. His troubles and worries felt so far away to the point he could no longer understand what it was he was so upset about.

Patton didn’t get drunk a lot, but when he did he relished the freedom from feeling it gave him.

And that’s how he found himself outside, sitting around the bonfire chatting up someone he didn’t know. She was very pretty though, and delightful to talk to even if just in casual conversation. Her name might be Valerie but Patton wasn’t that good with names, even when he was sober. 

When Valerie was called over by one of her friends Patton turned to the next available person and started listening to what they were saying. They offered him a cigarette and he took it along with a light- he was going to die young anyway from all the stress, might as well enjoy a few vices along the way. 

He was about half way through the nasty-tasting smoke stick when Roman found him, the other wrinkling his nose at the sight. “I didn’t know you smoke.” 

It took a moment for the words to register with Patton, and he smiled at the other while shrugging. “Well, y’know- When in Rome-an!” 

The pun put a face of cringe on Roman’s face, and Patton turned away. ‘Fine, screw you.’ He thought to himself, ‘If you disapprove you can just fuck right off like you did before. I don’t care anymore.’ 

“You do know that’ll give you cancer, right?” Roman tried with a dry chuckle. Patton frowned, taking a final drag and flicking the end in the fire.

“Yeah, and so will sunlight, the water, and pretty much all the food we eat, kiddo.” He stood up, “Right now all your cells are slowly setting on fire and we’re all going to die eventually. Why not at least enjoy it for a bit?” He walked passed Roman, pausing and then turning around- as if Roman was only a second thought. “I need another drink, do you want anything?” 

Roman frowned deeper, and Patton mentally rolled his eyes. “No, I’m good. Thanks.” 

Patton gave him a final shrug and headed inside, only getting side tracked by a few people and conversations, before they amassed a crowed around the bar. Finally the laughter and jokes were back flowing easily, and Patton could wash the nasty taste of Roman’s general disapproval out of his mouth.

After someone challenged him to shots, and abysmally lost in a Smash tournament consisting of every player playing Kirby the entire time, Patton found himself laying on the floor and giggling, Logan watching from a chair nearby.

“…So, Patton. How was your college experience?” Logan tried eventually, Patton noted the slight look of concern in his eyes- but decided he didn’t like it, and wouldn’t let Logan bring down his mood.

“Generally it sucked.” Patton shrugged, “The first few months were fun, but then the courses got really hard, and everything with Trevor happened- but then I met Toby and managed to graduate. So at least theres that!” He chuckled.

Logan furrowed his brows, pressing his lips together. This felt like a whole chapter of Patton’s life summed up into a few sentences. And there was so much he was missing from it. “What did you study that was so hard? And who is Trevor, and Toby?”

Patton giggled, that’s right- Lolo didn’t know. He wasn’t Emile, and he didn’t stick around for the shitshow. “I studied programming! Remember how I wanted to make video games? I decided to go into that- but it was super hard, and I don’t even make games now. I work as a tech manager for a banking firm and it’s super boring.” Pat sat up, grabbing his cup and taking another gulp of the burning swill within it. This probably had to be his last drink for a while, lest he threw up or passed out. “Trevor is a bitch, and will be only referred to as fuck-face mcgillcuddy from now on. Toby is cool. I met him at a party and we became like siblings. He’s super obsessed with Halloween- his full name is even ‘October.’ After I moved from Baltimore he still kept messaging me. Though he mainly just sends me memes.” 

Logan blinked twice. Somehow, despite talking more- Patton didn’t truly say anything. The most human thing that came out of his mouth was about Trevor, given that Patton never typically swore. Whatever happened with Trevor it was probably bad- Or maybe Patton was just drunk, Logan really couldn’t tell. Despite that there was nothing to really go off of for Logan to further the conversation. He wasn’t one to press a sensitive subject after all, so he had to find something else to go on.

“Toby sounds cool, I guess.” He tried, fidgeting in his seat. “Um, do you like dungeons and dragons?” 

“I LOVE dungeons and dragons!” Patton lit up, like an excited puppy. “I’m actually a DM for an online campaign! They even call me the Dadgeon Master!”

‘Oh thank god,’ Logan sighed inwardly, ‘At least we can talk about something, finally.’ “Roman and I do too. We’ve actually been interested in doing a campaign, but can’t find enough people to play.” 

“Well if you need a DM I’m down!” Patton hummed, giggles bubbling up from his chest. “I could build you guys an epic campaign!” 

“I think I’ll take you up on that.” Logan smiled warmly, for the first time in what felt like forever. “I think it would be a fantastic chance for us to all catch up.” 

“Heck yeah! What kind of character do you play? I bet you’d make an awesome mage!” Patton prattled on, and Logan chuckled.

“Actually, I primarily play rangers.” He hummed, “I find the companion aspect gives me a strategic advantage.” 

There was something in that that gave Patton pause. Logan shrunk inwardly at the blank face Patton gave him, like he almost didn’t really believe what Logan was saying.

It made Logan feel small, and foolish. Like he was better off not opening his mouth at all. “Oh! That’s really neat kiddo! I never would have guessed!” Patton smiled, but it didn’t fix the weird vibe Logan was getting. If anything, it only felt more patronizing.

“Yes, well.” Logan got up, looking for any excuse to leave the conversation. “I think I better find Roman.” 

“You do that then!” Patton hummed sipping from his cup. “Catch you around!” 

Logan didn’t say anything back, as he ducked out of the sliding doors in favor of being literally anywhere else but in the same room with Patton. The night air only soothed his soul a fraction of a bit, as he distanced himself from the vile air that had come between them. Was Patton always like that? So belittling? Was Logan getting worked up over nothing?

It didn’t seem like that. When Logan looked back on his memories with Patton he thought of the sweet kid who was always at Roman’s house. The bubbly innocent kid who always had the best hugs Logan never knew he needed, and went along with all their hair-brained ideas, or was always willing to stay up into the early hours of the night playing video games with them.

That idea was so tainted now. So grossly bastardized that it felt like two separate idealizations of two completely different people. It actually hurt. It hurt Logan that Patton was acting this way. He didn’t even know what to do.

He wasn’t sure if he even liked Patton anymore, and it hit his chest like morning a loss of a departed loved one. 

—-

As Emile waved some of the last party attendees away, he sighed inwardly. This whole event was taking a lot more out of him than he realized, his joints screamed in protest of doing anything more tonight. As he surveyed the disastrous remains of his basement he groaned. If he cleaned up now he’d be absolutely wrecked tomorrow, and wouldn’t be able to make the most of Patton’s visit. But if he waited he might not have the energy for it in the morning, and his stepdad would be pissed. Just the thought of that made him feel like complete garbage, and he could already feel the pain induced mental fog start to fall over him. All he wanted was to lay down and rest.

Amidst his contemplating, Remy snaked a hand around his waist and pulled him into his side, kissing the top of Emile’s head. “Thanks for the party babe. Don’t worry about the clean-up, I got it.” 

“What about Patton?” Emile hummed nuzzling into his boyfriend’s chest.

Remy chuckled, “I think I’m gonna have Pat pass out on the couch for a bit. Gurl drank an awful lot.” 

“Yeah…” Emile sighed, pulling away for a moment to rub his face. “Do you think it was a bad idea to invite all of them tonight? Roman and Logan didn’t seem really happy when they left. And when I checked in with Patton he said he was fine, but he was also a bottle and a half of whisky in so I’m not sure how much I believe that.” 

Remy sighed, with a shrug. Emile knew this wasn’t really Remy’s area of expertise. While he had been by Emile’s side for most of the shitshow, he wasn’t directly involved with it. He didn’t feel the sting, the paranoia of never being to trust Dee. Of screen shotting their conversations just to have ‘receipts’ of his actions. Didn’t feel how much stress it put on Emile after Patton left for Baltimore. Or didn’t feel the sorrow witnessing the tears that came down Patton’s face as he, and Dee encouraged him to forget Roman and Logan after they left. 

Pangs of guilt hit Emile’s chest as he remembered how much a part of the problem he had been. And although Patton constantly denied it, Emile knew he was also partly to blame for how things turned out. How Patton turned out. Even if it was just a small part, he contributed to the destruction of the famILY.

Emile was shaken from his thought’s as Remy pulled him in once more, running a comforting hand through Emile’s hair in an attempt to soothe his boyfriend. “I think it was for the best. Babes have a lot to work out, but at least they got started. It’s gonna take some time and patience, but I think they’ll make up eventually.” 

“You sure?” Emile hummed, nuzzling deeper into Remy. “I think they’re hurting.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s natural that the start of this would be painful.” Remy reassured, pressing his cheek to Emile’s head. “Pat’s not just gonna forget a backstab like that. It’ll take some time but he’ll come around.” 

‘I’m not so sure about that.’ Emile thought, but didn’t say anything. ‘Pat will never admit that he’s still angry. He won’t even talk to me about what happened. And we talk about everything.’

“C’mon.” Remy encouraged, tugging on Emile’s sweater softly. “Lets get you to bed. We’ll worry about this in the morning.” 

Emile didn’t say anything, he just let himself be slowly helped up the stairs and to his bedroom. Remy was right, the fog had settled in and it was getting harder and harder to think. He just needed rest.

He didn’t have enough spoons for this tonight.

———————————————————————————————

Nobody’s perfect. Not even Patton. 

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