#we won 4-2 on pens!

[archivingbarca]

fcbarcelona: Our Barça Legends in action in El Clásico 👊

(ig, 28/11/24)

[skythealmighty]

hey gang sorry for disappearing from tumblr i have been uhhh. i dunno actually but i got into epithet erased so that's cool. i should catch up on ppt2 soon probably oops

#rocket talk #epithet erased #ppt2 #hopefully people get that i mean paper puppets take 2 #not poyo poyo tetris two #i've never even played that slkjdfkls

🎤 screamintothemic Follow

hey guys sorry for the radio silence i'm fine now i promise :') soap is okay we're all good we're all chill

#mics ramblings #mostly anyway #its a very long story.

(13 notes)

🟢 greenyguy Follow

yo this ice cream bangin

🍺 pillowpepper Follow

greeny that is a tub of playdoh,

🟢 greenyguy Follow

yo this ice cream bangin

(39,132 notes)

🍿🔃 stevecobseviltwin Follow reblogged 🩷 under-lock-and-key

🩷 under-lock-and-key Follow

writing with a glitter gel pen in my own pages. i'm losing my sense of humanity

#mecore

(713,034 notes)

💼 emotional-baggage Follow

@nowaynuhuh i'm so sorry for disappearing like that earlier! i didn't mean to cut you out of anything, things just got busy :( on better news, i won a competition and made a new friend! do you have discord? i think you'd like her too ^_^

⛔ nowaynuhuh Follow

oh my gosh, that's SUCH a relief. things have been busy over here too, so i completely understand, dw! and i do have discord, so i'll dm you my username! can't wait to meet your friend

💼 emotional-baggage Follow

yay!!

#cases chats #thank you for the well wishes though!!

(4 notes)

🔌 electricalmusical Follow

i suffer every day from that post that got popular. HELLLPPPP MY NOTIFFSSSSSSSS

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

I TOLD you to get off of Tumblr. This is what you get

🟧 mail-time Follow

Is this the right site?

🔌 electricalmusical Follow

HI PB YEAH IT IS!!! WELCOMEEE

🟧 mail-time Follow

Thank you! Glad to be here!

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

...I left you alone for a day, how did you already find someone to add to your group?

🔌 electricalmusical Follow

we're just that swag

🟧 mail-time Follow

LOL

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

You better not have caused any trouble.

🔌 electricalmusical Follow

😶

👑 kingofeverything Follow

😶

🟧 mail-time Follow

😶

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

I hate my job.

(31 notes)

🧋 latte-or-not Follow

are there actually cishet people on tumblr? that feels illegal

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

i thought your host was cishet

🧋 latte-or-not Follow

and i thought you all were dead but no. he's bi.

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

diversity win...

#fans speeches #the host who made a joke about eliminating people cause theyre gay is bi #what a growth arc

(284 notes)

🛞 wheelnotonthebus Follow

GET ME OUT OF THIS FUCKING VOID

🛞 wheelnotonthebus Follow

I HATE CLOCK I HATE CLOCK I HATE CLOCK I HATE CLOCK

🛞 wheelnotonthebus Follow

I'M GOING TO KICK SOMEO

(2 notes)

🌽 is-steve-cobs-dead-yet Follow

11/29/2024

YES 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

#ii steve cobs #inanimate insanity #ii 18 spoilers #ii2 finale #WE DID IT CHAT

(8,623 notes)

🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow

I Win

#I REIGN SUPREME BITCHES

(9 notes)

🟧 mail-time Follow

Why is there fanart of us on here? How do people know who we are?

👑 kingofeverything Follow

shhhh dont worry about it

[see-arcane]

Cards with the Count

Thinking about how Jonathan is trying to pass the time during Vampire Hell Staycation with all the books in the library (a guaranteed Dracula Zone), no stationery (bastard), and a finite amount of secret pen ink and secret diary pages left at his disposal (shit). Reading and writing and art are all out. What’s left?

I like to think, in this order:

1)    He remembers that he has a pack of playing cards in the general luggage Dracula didn’t snatch. A gift Lucy had bestowed on him and Mina, a pack apiece, as she insisted that it was the best way to pass an hour in dreary company that wasn’t to do with gossip or politics.

2)    He doesn’t normally play, if only because he doesn’t have the coin to meet any real gambling stranger at a table. Just a ‘for fun’ thing.

3)    Fuck it. Solitaire. Card towers. It’s something to keep his mind off the…everything.

4)    He gets exactly one (1) day/evening of peace with this. Then:

5)    “Whatever are you up to, my friend?” 

(He didn’t even use the door to give Jonathan time to hide the pack. Misted in. No shadow to give him away. Fantastic.) Jonathan staples his smile back in place and rattles off something apologetic, so sorry, was he keeping the Count waiting? Let him just put this away, he wouldn’t be interested—

6)    Smash cut to the library. The cards are now unofficially confiscated/a staple of the Dracula Zone, alongside the fancy crystal chessboard the Count loves to crush him with on a semi-regular basis. Jonathan is walking him through the rules of sundry card games. Unsurprisingly, he latches onto the concept of American poker readily. The game is a soup of similar European predecessors that light up his eyes with recognition—primero, poque, brelan—sewn together with England’s game of brag into a medley of the initial rules, both written and unwritten.

7)    “A game of skill, then?”

“Skill, acting, and luck.”

Dracula grins as he produces a ransom of gold coins to use as chips. Jonathan deals. 

(What are the extra rules here? Does he throw every hand? Does he play in earnest and inevitably lose anyway? Does it even matter? It isn’t chess, after all. Not a proper strategy game. Cards happen. Guesswork happens. A winner and loser every turn. What does it matter?)

8)    Jonathan realizes two dozen hands later that what matters is, apparently, his face. One that, likewise apparently, cannot be read by the Count in this game. Out of those two dozen hands, Jonathan has won eighteen. Of those eighteen, his hand was the clear dud for nine. Through it all, Dracula’s eyes keep jumping from his own hand to Jonathan’s tired gaze. When Jonathan wins the twenty-fifth hand and the mountain of gold on his side of the table risks toppling off the edge, Dracula bites out a word Jonathan is sure is too caustic to have a spot in the lost polyglot dictionary.

9)    “You have a gift for schooling your face, my friend.” Every word is an icicle; each as sharp as the canines jutting out of the rictus grin.

“I don’t,” Jonathan says. 

And it’s true. Now he’s schooling his face—first lesson of anyone destined for the realm of serving others—but in the game, he’s barely thinking of anything else beyond the ticking of the clock. To punctuate this, he slides the heap of gold back to Dracula’s side of the table. 

“This is only a game for the fun of it. In a game with stakes, there would be something worth playing and worrying for. When you get to England,” his face is very, very schooled as he says this, “you’ll find a much more varied competition at gambling tables. The players who really train their expressions can do so with fortunes at stake, while novices reveal every victory or loss plainly on their face.”

10) Dracula considers this. And smiles.

11) “Ah, then there must be stakes before we can play the game properly. Still, you have won the bulk of these rounds, my friend—” his hand seems like it wants to be strangling something when it drums atop the gold heap, “—and done me the charity of not taking your rightful winnings.” He throws down his cards. Ace and deuce of spades. “I shall have to speak with the kitchen about producing a stand-in prize.” 

He leaves. Jonathan doesn’t blink when he hears the door lock behind him. A card pyramid is erected.

12) Paprika hendl for supper. As excellent as he remembers. Huzzah.

13) The next time he’s herded into the library, he sees what looks suspiciously like his travel paraphernalia flimsily hidden behind a bit of drapery. Dracula is shuffling the deck.

14) “A true prize on the table this time, my friend. I know you are one to appreciate the splendor of our beautiful country, just as I know it is, for your own safety, quite impossible to go exploring alone in the wild. Too many wolves about. But if you win the majority tonight, I shall see to it that my driver takes a leave from his own many errands to escort you beyond the castle for a time, if you so wish.”

“…And if I lose the majority?” He can’t help it: “I’m sure there’s little from me you’d be interested in.”

Dracula grins.

“We shall think of something, I’m certain. Here. Deal.”

15) As expected, Jonathan’s face isn’t effortlessly unreadable in its misery anymore. He has something to play for, even if his trust in Dracula’s dangling carrot on the stick is nigh nonexistent. He loses more. He struggles more. He worries more…

16) …But the wins and losses remain surprisingly even. On into the dawn they play, matching victory for victory. Even the Count seems puzzled. Jonathan is just tired. He was never going to win. The ‘driver’ will fall to some mysterious ailment, his possessions will disappear the moment he’s sent out of the room ahead of the Count. To Hell with it.

17) “I forfeit. We remain tied, so neither has to lose.” A sour smile curls. “Besides, I have kept you up too late again.”

“One more.”

“We can say you won—,”

Dracula gives him a Look.

Jonathan sits again. Plays again.

Wins again.

Dracula hisses several words the polyglot dictionary would be scandalized to translate. Jonathan feels the first genuine smile he’s wanted to make in a month and a half try to creep up on his lips, and stifles it.

18) Dracula turns over his cards and thumbs though the deck as if looking for a conspirator. He even scowls at Jonathan’s forearms, both bare through the whole game as he’d rolled up his sleeves. Still grumbling, his thumbnail finally hooks a card that makes a cloud pass over his face.

19) “What. Is this?”

Jonathan looks.

“Oh, that’s just a Joker.”

“Joker?”

“Yes, I thought I’d taken him out. He’s not a usable card in this game, but he’s sometimes used as a trump or wild card in others. That is, he’s there to turn the tide for whoever gets to play him.”

Jonathan reaches for the card to tuck it back in the box. Dracula pulls it out of reach, walks to the fireplace, and flicks it into the flames.

“Say what you will, but I recognize a symbol of sabotage when I see it. It should not be in the deck at all!” Still watching the little harlequin turn to cinders, he flaps his other hand at Jonathan. “Go rest, my friend. Take that infernal game with you. It is not a respectable pastime for men of our like.”

20) Jonathan gathers up the deck, gives his travel kit a last mournful look, and leaves for his bedroom, knowing not to ask after the walk in the forest as he goes. In his bed, he empties the deck into his hand again and thinks on four things.

Skill.

Acting.

Luck.

And…

21) He turns the deck’s neglected second Joker over in his fingers, the impish face seeming to hold a secret in its grin.

22) When he wakes next, he isn’t surprised to find the deck has been stolen. It doesn’t trouble him. Somehow, it even produces a tired grin on his face. It nearly matches the painted thing hidden, wild and powerful, in the pages of his journal.

[unreesonable]

A pre-TV Pauline comic by Reece. Also features a character called Mickey, who is very different to the Mickey Michaels we know so well. And I'm not sure if the guy with glasses and a goatee is meant to be Ross?

I've typed up the transcript - idiosyncratic punctuation and all - under the cut!

FRAME 1: On The Job Back to work with Restart Lady:- Pauline-Cambell Jones! FRAME 2: Pauline: Right gents! Shut your traps and watch Miss. Since you've all been on the dole for over a year - they've sent you to me for training! But since there's no hope for any of you I thought we'd go back to basics... FRAME 3:

Pauline: Who know's what this is?... ... that's 'wright' it's a pen!

FRAME 4:

Pauline: What's it for? FRAME 5:

Pauline: Oh come on... I've already given you a really good clue...

Mickey: Puttin' bet's on FRAME 6:

Pauline: Thankyou Mickey! I was beginning to think you were actually stupider than you look! "Puttin bet's on!" Good - Anyone else use a pen? FRAME 7:

Frank: Writing letters to your ex-wife in her new home. Or others...

Woman: ...What do you mean 'others'

FRAME 8:

Pauline: You mean for jobs don't you Frank!

FRAME 9:

Frank: No! I mean writing to other women! Bitches! You cow Pauline!

FRAME 10:

Pauline: Grab him gents! I'll get help!

Mickey: Mad bastard!

Man: Oh dear.

Woman: Fuck.

FRAME 11:

Frank: Come back! Whores! My work! The experiment! Bitches! Pauline's!! All of them! Urrrggh!

FRAME 12:

Later...

Pauline: And it'll almost certainly affect his dole...

FRAME 13:

Pauline: ...And even though he's mad - he still has to be here all week. You all do!

Mickey: (thinks) I hope I've won the four o'clock

Woman: (thinks) So much for me saying I had an audition...

Man: (thinks) And I thought I could declare a weeks work. Shit.

[veninorchid]

Bridgerton S3 Review

Dearest gentle reader, I am disappointed, sadly.

And as I respect your opinion, so too, shall you respect mine. I'm not here to bash on #Polin fans and the fact that they enjoyed it, but what -was- season 3 of Bridgerton truly?

I love the Mondriches, but do they really need so much screen-time? What did their own ball add to the story exactly? Had the same feeling about the Dankworth-Finch ball at the end, but at least that one proved its necessity as -the reveal all- ball. Because there was of course no Duke of Hastings (Simon) to host it, so they improvised.

This season had too many stories going on at the same time which were all fighting for the spotlight when it should've focused on #Polin, cause that is what was advertised/hyped. It did not deliver…

Season 1 - Daphne and Simon They had the most screen-time and all other stories got a little bit of shine. But even then some of those had either Daphne or Simon in the picture/background. (Marina-Colin, with Daphne as chaperone is one of the examples) None of the other stories distracted from the main focus.

Season 2 - Kanthony Same here. While there was a lot going on in this season with Anthony courting Edwina and going all the way to the alter with her (creative license, since it didn't happen in the book) and then on the other hand we were seeing the other side with his having the thickest desire and longing for Kate. You could cut that shit with a knife, I tell you. But no side stories were overpowering. It was 90% lead character -stuff. Season 3 - Benedict---, I mean #Polin -minus the actual #Polin Were their (the directors/screenwriters) initial thoughts that we've been seeing them for 2 seasons, so we don't have to pay that much attention to the leads? Wrong! That was friendship, this is love, longing and passion. So much new ground to explore for these two. Little scenes like dancing in the church, stealing loving glances is cute and all, but we got nothing more than that. Nothing memorable.

No wait, we got carriage frolicking in part 1 and a mirror first time in part 2. You're right, I apologize. Anything else? Name any other thing you remember from this whole season. I'll wait, seriously.

Did maybe the night scene come up in your memories? Where they had an angry make out and he once again let his hand venture below? I felt the anger/passion in the coming together and pushing her against the shop, sure. The quick flash of him reaching between her thighs was more of a recycled scene from episode 4 or even from S03 Kanthony. I mean honestly. Was there really even a chance he'd take her in the streets? It felt unnecessary and forced. The dialogue was good and would've been better at their home where it's believable they could enter an intimate scene that -could- be finished if they so wanted it. Or not if his anger won over his desire. Did I mention they were both drinking before they met? I didn't say drunk, I said drinking.

I guess they improvised the whole Mme Delacroix scene (before the angry make out) with her offering advice and booze just to give Pen a reason to drink and coincidentally be in Colin's path for the scene? Wasted screen-time. Do I also need a drink to feel the -love- this season?

First part, Colin helping and chasing Pen. Second part, let's ignore and distance myself from her. They really stretched out Colin's pulling back from her because of the whole Whistledown thing, when they could've done fast forwards, saying things like 'Colin, it's been weeks. Or it's been so long, can we get passed this' just to show the time frame. But instead we get long minutes of silence and ignoring each other. Filming Colin from the back, zooming in. Then from the front zooming in. Then him watching her leave the house, slowly getting up from sleeping on the sofa, walking towards his desk. Lifting and opening and reading her old letters. Do you have any idea how long that feels? When she exited the bedroom and delivered her dialogue he could've already been behind his desk. Did we see Simon (S01E02) walk into the room, open his father's desk, take out the unopened letters etc.? No, the flashback ends with him already seated and holding the letters. Same thing could've been done here.

Oh, let's not forget side character-stuff. Let's talk more about that.

Again, I cannot stress it enough. Mondriches. Duke of Kent stuff and moving up, is fine. Seeing them struggle constantly onscreen is not. Wasted screen-time. You can easily have us hear about that in conversation. How miserable and sad he is because he had to close the bar when he became part of the ton. So many ways to handle that. Moving to part 2. Why did we have to get the whole preparation for their ball? What did it add to the story exactly? Just let everyone arrive at the ball and let that be the first we all see of the decorations. Did we see Lady Danbury prepare for the huge conservatory ball in S2? Lady Trowbridge's ball in S1? All of Her Majesty's balls? No, so it was wasted screen-time.

Francesca's story was sweet, bless her, but also unnecessary detailed. Was it the autism angle they were trying to push forward? I'm all for it, but only when you have a series with more than 8 episodes. (God, I miss 22 episode series) Because she is still a side character in #Polin's book, no matter which way you turn it. At Francesca's wedding we had the whole vows scene and everything and the two LEADS!!!! were stealing glances at each other while standing behind the whole ass family. You're the leads, act like it! It felt like S1 and S2 with them being in the background.

We all know Bridgerton's known for taking liberties with the wardrobe. The tailored waists for Pen enhance her body beautifully, but Cressida's wardrobe is bordering… scratch that! has taken a 250 MPH free-fall, into ridiculousness. I also absolutely did not care for -seeing- the reasons behind Cressida claiming to be Whistledown. Should've just kept her as a bitch. That's what we enjoyed about her. Fine, you decided on that development for her character, so here's an idea. She was so chummy with Eloise. Could've just had her tell Eloise that she was being pressured by her parents to marry and then being send to the country to live with a horrid aunt. Wasted screen-time. You only have 8 episodes to work with for crying out loud.

And then there's the side character of all side-characters. Benedict. Didn't they make the very -deliberate- decision to push back Benedict and Sophie's story in favor of #Polin as S3? To then give me so much useless Bentilly sexy time; Time that could've easily been given to #Polin things. If you can make up stories about him being confused as to his sexuality, you can just as easily come up with new, none book, stories for the actual leads. Could've left everything they forced on us about Benedict for his actual season. What's gonna be left for his own season? Wasted screen-time. Should've made him absent, continue the art-school in the background, anything. I mean, an extended honeymoon for Kanthony instead of a forced story to have them onscreen. Do the bloody same for Benedict and focus on #Polin. Every time we saw Benedict, he was playing twister with Tilly and later with what's his name (don't even care) It's not relevant, it's wasted screen-time.

I'm gonna end my review (rant!) with one last thing.

Shallow kisses. Heck it's acting, so you don't have to shove your tongue down your co-actor's throat, but keep your lips open and hollow out your mouth to at least make us think you're playing tongue-twister. As soon as their lips touched, they closed their mouths and it became a fervent peck-fest. Like kissing air and practicing in front of a mirror. Yes, they look good kissing each other, but the kissing itself was bleh.

First kiss in part 1 was going the right direction and was pretty believable, but after that… shallow as f*ck. And to think they were supposed to be increasing in passion after that first kiss. All of them were closed-mouth pecks, I'm sorry. Was it the height-difference that didn't allow them to actually suck each other's face off? ---------------

I will not do a TL;DR, because if you skip this review/rant, you will not have missed anything. Have a great day people.

Yours truly, Venin Orchid (aka Lady Regency-nerd) PS: did anyone notice the nice touch at the end? The Whistledown Silhouetted lady on the top of the page had been changed to look more like Penelope. You're welcome <3

[moirindeclermont]

It's day 23 and it seems fair to announce I'm going to do until day 30 and then taking 3/4 days of pause - maybe some memes will sneak in (I'm writing a bigger fic for the 31 but idk if it's going to be ready by the 31th). Later today I'll post my ideas for November because I want your input as well, like always.

Prompt for today is non genital orgasm and multiple orgasm 😈 (this could also be counted as a first time we didn't see)

" I bet you can't make me come without touching my core," as soon as the words are out, Pen realizes her mistake.

Never tell a Bridgerton "I bet you can't", they will haunt you the rest of your days until proven wrong.

This case is no different.

Colin is watching her with a big smile on his face, as he gets close to her with a clear goal in mind. She shivers. Pen knows that Colin is nothing but determined when it comes to her pleasure.

They are in bed, so she hasn't a stay on. Better for him, because he just lifts her nightgown to expose her and kissing her nipples. She sighs, as she relaxes against the headpost, his other hand going to harder her other bud.

"You are going to eat your words, little minx," he says with such confidence, as if he's in a secret that she has no clue about it.

As he rolls her bud on his tongue, she feels the first clues of pleasure in her belly.

"Especially when you have the most exquisite pair of t1ts I've ever seen," he adds as he bites lightly on her left, the right one being pinched. Oh... She might be in trouble.

"And I have all the time in the world to make you come like this," his head gets up for a moment to give her a kiss before returning to it's previous position.

After a while, he switches, as she lets out a moan. He continues like this, switching every 2 to 3 minutes, until she can feel her wetness.

She moans, gripping his hair. Her bosom has never been so sensitive. It's like someone strapped a thread between her chest and her core, and now every single thing he does it's like she is experiencing it there. She pushes her hips, begging for a more direct stimulation, but he is not giving her a thing. "Last thing I want is you telling me I cheat," Colin says, before deploying his secret weapon.

He takes the nipples in his fingers and rolls it.

She buckles under him, as she feels herself getting closer and closer.

"See, my love, when it comes to your pleasure, the key is building up and consistency. If I keep this up," and now he is rolling both of her buds, driving her crazy, "you'll going to come soon."

Pen gasps as her release takes her. She feels her core clutching around nothing, as her head swims in pleasure.

"And since I won, I get to decide the prize," he says taking himself in hand.

He opens her legs and finds her soaked. "Just perfect," he says giving a kiss to her pearl, before pushing inside her. She comes again. She has never come so fast in her life. "Yes, Pen, squeeze me like that," he waits until she is calmer before thrusting into her again. "So wet for me, always so wet for me," kissing her and touching her chest again, now so sensitive she could come again just from that.

He makes her release again with his length.

"Now, I already won, but I'm an overachiever, would you not agree?" He grins as he takes that opportunity to touch her with his tongue. Pen is asking herself if someone can go insane from too much pleasure. She feels another wave coming and she can only grip his head as her hips moves against him.

"Last one," he says and Pen is not even understanding words at this point. He drives into her again and she just sobs at that point, as Colin hits her spot inside and release right after her.

He is so smug when she opens her eyes again (she didn't even realized she had closed them). He kisses her and touches her chest. "Too sensitive," she says to him and Colin just gets up, picks a towel, using it to slowly and carefully clean her, making sure she is comfortable.

"I should remember to never bet with a Bridgerton," she tells him and Colin chuckles.

"You should remember you are a Bridgerton and you can ask for a rerun," and that's the moment Colin realizes the mistake he made.

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Thoughts on Bridgerton season 3

No one asked, but putting it out there. (Written after viewing part 1.)

The Good

Polin - it’s their season after all. There is plenty of them and a lot of scenes pulled right from the book. I don’t think Colin/Newts is all that charismatic or great at acting tbh, but Pen/Nic is carrying the season. Seeing through her eyes, there is a compelling story of self-acceptance, struggle and romance. I was whooping whenever she got steamy with her man.

Debling - wonderfully acted and such an interesting addition to the ton, I love this character. He is so kind and honest, he deserves the world.

Francesca & John - Hannah Dodd is doing a wonderful job. We get to see the one and only shy Bridgerton, which is novel. Her odd chemistry with John is magical and I am already fucked up about them. I’m more invested in them than Polin 😅

Eloise - we are seeing more facets of Eloise which is wonderful. That she is willing to look deeper at peoples’ true character - including Cressida and Pen, though the reconciliation with Pen isn’t finalized yet. Cressida also makes Eloise check herself, her assumptions and privileges which is crucial for her development. She’s growing this season.

The Cowpers - redemption arc for Cressida incoming! We are learning that her bitchiness stems from a competitive nature, which she feels she must have to secure a good match thanks to pressures from her awful parents. This is interesting in its own right but please please please have Sophie also being mistreated in their household. That would be the bow on top.

Marcus Anderson - hello handsome! He is wonderfully acted and immediately has a warm spark with Violet. The mystery is built as to why Lady D is so aggravated by him. What has he done in the past that makes her wary of him?

The music - great instrumental covers of on-point pop songs and revisiting a few tried and true Bridgerton original themes.

The Bad

Kanthony - But only for part 1. I'm guessing they had to work around JB's busy shooting schedule, but it sucks they found a lame way to essentially write them out of episodes 2-4. I'm happy to see from the trailer there will be more of them in part 2.

Benedict - for fucks sake, he does nothing. Season 2 might as well not have happened. Not only is he not sad nor frustrated with Anthony about art school, he has no introspection or personal development in part 1. He’s just shoved in the background again, making sassy little comments and fucking a random lady. Where is this ‘crucial role’ the showrunner mentioned? What ‘comes to a head’ for him as Luke keeps alluding to? All of his material must happen in part 2 because there is nothing in part 1.

The fucking Featheringtons - I know the entail is a plot line set up by season 2, but getting into microscopic detail about the sex lives of the elder two Featherington sisters is not the comic relief the show thinks it is. It actually makes me nauseous. The whole ‘race to produce an heir’ could have been a single line explanation from Portia and screen time with the Featherington couples could have been spent on more Benedict.

The sex - part 2 better be mind blowing because Nicola’s claim that Polin has ‘won the steamy battle’ is unfounded based on the first four episodes. Okay we’ve got Anthony and Benedict each with a scene between the sheets kissing ladies but not a single Bridgerbum to be seen. The claims of ‘threesomes’ and ‘lesbian sex’ are extremely generous. It’s 5 seconds of Colin kissing sex workers and them peformatively kissing each other. I know we have the mirror scene coming in part 2 which threatens to blow the roof off anything Saphne and Kanthony did but thus far, I am unimpressed. It feels more buttoned up than ever.

Now, I have also watched part 2 in its entirety. Without spoiling any details, see below the cut for a general note.

Part 2 contains some MAJOR twists that I feel are going to fracture the fandom. Brace yourselves.

[naanima]

Watching the Pens v Kings game, was out for brunch.

A GOAL BY KINGS IN THE FIRST 33 SECS?!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

OMFG. GENO MANAGED TO NAIL SID BY ACCIDENT. AHAHAHAHA.

Kempe is a bane upon us. Everyone falling in front of the King's net. Lols.

Commentators calling us out on our shitty defence 🤡... And how the King's are one of the best defensively.

Oh, the Pens pulling goalie with 17 secs left of period 1... I don't think I have ever seen this happening ever. NED BACK TO BENCH AGAIN?!? 2 MEN ADVANTAGE AGAIN?!

Us separating our talents should have been done last season.

BUNBUN GOAL!!! And what an awkward goal lololols.

Wow, that goal on us by Turcotte. Wow.

Holy shit! NED STOPPING A PUCK FROM BOTH SIDES!!!

Damn, that shot by Sid while falling. Too bad it didn't go in.

Raks & Rust were robbed.

Their goalie is soooo good.

GRYZ SCORE! CLEAN PASS BY SID!

Geno batting the puck with his hands and then being tripped!!

4 on 4 AT 3.50?!?!? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!? OT?! FUCKING OT?!? ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME?!

Geno looks so graceful on the ice.

EK!!!! RAKS??? WE WON IN OT!!!

I AM SO GLAD I DIDN'T WATCH THIS LIVE. I would having fucking died.

[secretdiaryofcrowley]

“Hello, Traitor.”

How?

How, how, how? How can she be in here?

I just got used to the fact that my Bentley has angelic protection now. And that protection didn't fade away when my angel left for Heaven. Demons can't be in here; they’d have to be invited in.

Shax obviously can. “I was going to pull you down to my new office, as it seems befitting for my new position. But you’re so miserable already, I didn’t want to drag you out of your safe space."

No, you just wanna throw it right into my face that you can be in said safe space without any consequences. Don't think I don't recognize your tactics.

"Besides, Hell doesn’t need to know about our little talk, do they?”

"Oh, are we having a talk?" Slouching in my seat I lean back, giving her my cheekiest smirk. Oh, I can feel her new powers emanating from her and I don't know what she's capable of, but there's no way in Hell, I'll show her any fear. Two can play this game.

"We are. I brought chocolates."

"Chocolates?" My face freezes again, this time with astonishment. "You honestly think, I can be won over with chocolates?"

She eyes me from the side. "Well, my first intent was using death threats, but after watching you cry and whine and sob all these last months, I didn't think you would mind discorporation or even destruction so much. If I threatened you, you'd probably respond with something like: 'I don't want to live without my angel!' or 'Please kill me already.' So, I decided not to do you that favour.”

All these last months watching Crowley TV? “Oh, so glad, I could contribute to your amusement with my misery.”

“You couldn’t. Although my associate quite enjoyed seeing you like this... Oh, that was sarcasm, wasn’t it? I’m getting very good at spotting it.”

“Oh, are you? My sincerest congratulations on making Duchess of Hell, then.”

“Thank you.” Shax looks very pleased with herself. “Finally, the next step in my career. Beelzebub was right about their departure offering chances. It won’t stop at this stage, though. I have great plans for my future.”

“Lemme guess.” I take a closer look at the box of chocolates lying on the dashboard. “Grand Duchess of Hell, Princess of Hell, Mother of Demons…”

She brought schnapspralinen. What am I gonna be, a kangaroo? Oh, but there’s whiskey and rum and vodka and ouzo and eau de vie and sake... oh, my! Pity, they aren’t full bottles, just tiny sips covered in chocolate.

“You’ve been out of Hell for a while.” Shax frowns, her giant face hovering over me. “But you do remember that demons don’t have… Crowley, what are you doing?”

“Right.” It’s all just a question of size, isn’t it? I’ll think, I’ll start with that round piece of cherry brandy. Ngk… why does that stupid pen have to be so heavy? And… bam! Nice little holey hole! Keep the good stuff flowing.

“Crowley! Will you stop this nonsense?”

She reaches for me, but I’m quicker, jumping down on the steering wheel to evade her hand. “What? A gift is a gift!”

“I want you to work for me, Crowley. You’ll get to be Duke of Hell, once I’m Grand Duchess. And you can have your flat back.”

“The Bentley’s fine. Lots and lots and lots of space for me to enjoy.” I slide down on one side of the steering wheel (hey, this is fun) and start to climb over the radio to get back on the dashboard.

This time, she’s quicker. Her hand comes down on me and she grabs me between her gloved fingers. “I could just squash you like a bug.”

“Right.” Tiny little tears spurt from my eyes. “My angel has left me for Heaven, please be merciful and end my suffering.”

“No. Stop being so pathetic.” She sets me down and I reach for the pen again. Your vodka’s mine, you pear-shaped piece of brittle chocolate. Hand it over right now!

There’s simply no way in Heaven or Hell I’m having the rest of this conversation sober.

~*~

More Diary Parts

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21

[superm4ks]

im very happy max won but the more i think about his pole being taken away/vsc or safety car not being deployed immediately/the flip flopping bw dwys n yellows and green flags etc. the more cynical i feel about the sport🙁what do u think? is this weekend an outlier or is this j how things are now? common sense out of the window, decisions taking ages…

UMMM I'll hold ur hand when I say this but Qatar definitely wasn't an outlier, prolly the most egregious showing since the sprint in Brazil, but F1 always has like 4 races in every season where u kinda wonder if ur watching a sport 😐 This gonna get long but theres some important context I think ur asking for here also I kinda lose it at the end I'm sorry but yuh.

Saur after Vegas everybody was like omfg daddy Marques is here to save us, he addressed some basic track issues and nobody got fucking paralyzed by a pothole exploding thru their ass hurray, so there was hope that maybe Marques was off to a better start than his predecessors and wud maybe give the fans a better ending to the season. But putting Qatar after Vegas is like quizzing somebody on shapes and then asking them to solve a rubriks cube or whtvr.

Qatar was originally built for motogp so the whole thing is designed to be quick and relentless. That means lots of medium to high speed corners, long straights basically 2 hours of edging ur braking. Most drivers consider it a cool track, very demanding sure but fun to drive. For us fans, though, its an odd 1 because theres no reference points so it can be hard to follow. Think of it as the opposite of tracks like Miami or Monaco. RC did a particularly heinous job here because Qatar was Marques' first taste of a track where u either plug the first leak in record time or the whole thing goes to shit. Like, his job.

A lil lesser known fact is that they had Marques on double duty that weekend because the person who replaced him to direct the F2 heat got the boot before her plane even landed and they had NO one else to do it. So Marques had to direct both the f1 AND the f2 Qatar races the same weekend. And thats not all. Just before his inaugural run in Vegas he had just been at the helm of the iconic Macau GP that saw 12 red flags in 40 minutes of qualifying. I wont even tell u how many SC were deployed but only 12 out of 27 drivers finished the race. Ugo my most beloved won so this has nothing to do wid Qatar and Macau and the way its used by the FIA in terms of junior development is a can of worms I cant open rn but like just to show u thats the type of shit Marques had been dealing wid on a weekly basis once we got to Qatar. So truly bro never stood a chance.

When Alexs mirror fell on track the only possible course of action is to get it OFF. Idc if u wanna do VSC or a full SC u need to clear that track NOWWWWW. 3 cars caught strays from that mf before a SC was even deployed. To fuck up that badly that early in the race just showed exhaustion, it showed immaturity and frankly it showed incompetence. Its unacceptable. Wud a different RD have reacted earlier? who tf knows tbh, because these 'mistakes' always happen and they're always dismissed as 'one of those crazy ones' in the season and nothing ever gets done to improve the standards of the personnel ((theres no personnel left btw)).

Then u got the long awaited return of the stop and go and drive thru pens which was super forced and made no sense and immediately showed why those bitches been sat in a corner catching dust because theres literally always better alternatives and they almost never serve actual officiating purposes. 'Precedence' means fuck all if u also have the 'precedence' of not fucking doing that and being way more consistent and delivering better racing. But ohhhh he had to stop in the pits and THEN he had to go back out ohhh he had to go thru an area of the track thats not the right one and lose a bunch of time and become essentially worthless in the race we love when competitive cars do that. Sorry this isnt directed at u I just have a very particular beef wid fans who act like drive thrus and stop and go's are these celestial artifacts that are gonna restore balance in the universe like the harder u throw the book at these drivers the better the product will become. I cud live 200 lives and not have enough time to explain how thats the actual furthest thing from the truth but ur innocent and ily so lets regroup. ❤️ My actual conclusion to ur q is that this is how things have always been and no they're not likely to improve. Unfortunately I gotta borrow even more of ur time to show ur how truly bleak it cud get real soon.

FIA been circulating a bunch of changes to their rules that are prolly gonna be approved at their general assembly in about 10 days. These 'new statutes' include 1) changing the governing bodys ethics rules so that Sulayem can in fact talk to drivers however the fuck he wants and THEY will be held in contempt for criticizing him 2) the 'compliance officer' responsible for overseeing Sulayems spending cannot report to an independent committee and propose an investigation unless directly asked by the Senate President who .. and ur not gonna believe this .. is appointed directly by Sulayem. 3) yes u understood it correctly FIA will prolly become a system where the FIA president and the president of the senate that he chose decide each other's fate in any ethics inquiry.

Sulayem is up for re-election and its becoming more and more likely that hes gonna run unopposed. A sporting director, a technical director, multiple heads of mobility, communications, legal affairs, the women in motorsport commission, several race directors, stewards, a compliance officer, deputy directors. All fired under his watch. Dozens of others quit.

Stewarding has become so abysmal Max received a one place grid drop AND a penalty point as a mitigating punishment for something he literally didnt do under circumstances that didnt warrant any type of punishment let alone a mitigating one like the document literally says that 'unusually, neither car was on a push lap' because if they had been on a push lap max wud have received a 3 place grid drop but 1 and 63 were not on push laps so naturally we have to give Max a one place grid drop and a penalty point for not doing the thing that he would've been punished for had he done it. This isnt even the most controversial or confusing aspect of this years Qatar race. Im gonna kill m

So about ur cynicism and ur concern and ur general discomfort wid how the future is looking. When the GPDA posted that ig statement telling Sulayem to watch his tone and asking where the money was, these proposed changes to the ethics commission and the financial oversight were the FIA's direct answer. And if they do go into effect on December 13th bro I think Abu Dhabi gonna be the end of more than the 2024 season.

Happy Wednesday lmfao

[wrongcaitlyn]

okay grammys predictions from the very reliable and expert opinion of user wrongcaitlyn whose experience comes from spending a concerning amount of time on the grammys wikepedia page and who has a concerning number of minutes on spotify wrapped! (will only be judging the categories of which i've actually listened to the music of and will be fully transparent of my biases because i have plenty <3)

Album of the Year: André 3000 — New Blue Sun Beyoncé — Cowboy Carter Sabrina Carpenter —Short n’ Sweet Charli XCX — Brat Jacob Collier — Djesse Vol. 4 Billie Eilish — Hit Me Hard and Soft Chappell Roan — The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess Taylor Swift — The Tortured Poets Department

who i think will win: chappell roan or jacob collier

i dont know who jacob collier is but he has won a few grammys before and idk the album name just sounds like the name of an album that would win aoty (but truly i have no idea what it sounds like so no judgement can be made there)

i feel like aoty usually either goes to a well known pop album (midnights, harry's house) or some unknown album that everyone's confused by (we are (sorry if this offends anyone) (this is solely based on what *i* know and i obviously don't know *that* much music))

who i hope will win: chappell roan (runner up: sabrina carpenter)

i SERIOUSLY hope chappell wins this one. rise and fall of a midwest princess is incredible and it 100% deserves the win, both from lyricism and the general flow of the album, plus it's a no skip album imo

short n' sweet also slays and i think it has a good balance of silly glitter gel pen pop music and serious sad ballads, plus the variety in genres flow together so well

only reason i think short n' sweet won't win is because midnights won last year and i think short n' sweet falls into the fun pop jack antonoff with some quieter songs category and it wouldn't win two years in a row

other thoughts

it won't be taylor swift

in fact i don't think taylor will win more than 1 or 2 grammys this year and definitely not in the main categories

or at least i actually hope not i'm not ready for her to be public enemy no. 1 again sorry

haven't listened to andre 3000 or beyonce's albums so i can't judge those but i don't think beyonce will win

charli xcx and billie have good chances i think, i've only listened to a few songs from hmhas though - brat has solid chance i think but honestly i can't see a dance pop winning album of the year

Song of the Year: Beyoncé – “Texas Hold ’Em” Billie Eilish – “Birds of a Feather” Chappell Roan – “Good Luck, Babe!” Kendrick Lamar – “Not Like Us” Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars – “Die With a Smile” Sabrina Carpenter – “Please Please Please” Shaboozey – “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” Taylor Swift feat. Post Malone – “Fortnight”

who i think will win: chappell roan or kendrick lamar

both of these deserve it sm i feel like

i think kendrick has a larger chance but then again chappell's never been nominated before so i can't tell whether they're gonna completely snub her or whether she's gonna pull a sweep like billie did in 2020

billie may have a chance too because the grammys really like her and she has a history of winning song of the year

who i hope will win: chappell roan (runner up: kendrick lamar)

i actually haven't listened to not like us in full but i know well enough that it's a really well written song and he'd deserve it

but like good luck babe. i mean. good luck babe. like. good luck babe.

the bridge on its own deserves a song of the year award

and also just an extremely lesbian song written about lesbian experiences by a lesbian artist winning song of the year would make me so happy

other thoughts:

die with a smile prob has a chance too i think

and i haven't listened to texas hold 'em or shaboozey so i can't make any judgments there

Record of the Year: The Beatles - "Now and Then" Beyoncé - "TEXAS HOLD 'EM" Sabrina Carpenter - "Espresso" Charli xcx - "360" Billie Eilish - "BIRDS OF A FEATHER" Kendrick Lamar - "Not Like Us" Chappell Roan - "Good Luck, Babe!" Taylor Swift (feat. Post Malone) - "Fortnight"

who i think will win: sabrina carpenter, chappell roan, or kendrick lamar

i feel like espresso is sort of a given, and if it doesn't win, like,,,, what

but if chappell or kendrick win song of the year then there's a higher chance of one of them winning record of the year for the same song

but yeah i feel like it's gotta be espresso

who i want to win: sabrina carpenter (runner up: chappell roan)

i feel like i don't even need an explanation for this- record of the year focuses on production and artistic achievement and espresso is just the most catchy instant classic pop song ever

like there's a reason everyone became obsessed with it myself included

but also good luck babe. like good luck babe.

ik i keep not giving explanations for good luck babe but i don't think i need one that song is just perfection

other thoughts:

if taylor wins any of the main awards it would be this one i think

BUT grammys are not supposed to take into account charts/sales success so i don't think it will

and again i srsly hope not because. god the amount of hate we had to face last year with midnights im not ready for that to happen againJSDF

i haven't listened to now and then, texas hold 'em, or not like us so no judging there

however it would be insane for a beatles song to win a grammy in the year 2025 and it'd be really sick if that did happen

i don't think it will unless it's for the purpose of awarding a song by the beatles tho if that makes sense

charli deserves to win one of the main categories but i don't think 360 was the standout song from brat ngl, i think it was more the album as a whole which is why i don't think she'll win this

okay and best new artist if it's not chappell then what the fuck

[yurideification]

THE PAGE AND ITS MUSE: A GUIDE TO THE PROSPECTIVE ONTOGRAPHER

SECTION I - THE FOLLY OF SCIENCE

SECTION II - THE GNOSIFORM: THE SCRIPT AND IT’S MAKEUP

SECTION III - THE PHYSICAL PROPERTIES OF THE GNOSIFORM

SECTION IV - THE PROSPECTIVE ONTOGRAPHER: THE PEN, AND MANIPULATING REALITY

SECTION V - CONCLUSION

SECTION 1:

THE FOLLY OF SCIENCE

There is the fundamental mistake among the lay scientist where, as now they have spent near two centuries exploring the nature of the universe and its makeup, they so believe that science is on the right track to understand all its mysteries; the scientist possesses the full belief that, given enough time with his telescopes and scientific maninstruments, that one day he shall understand how it all started, and where it all began. This is, unfortunately, wrong, for you see traditional science has dug itself into a very deep pit out of which it is very unlikely to remain. Let me explain.

Imagine it as such; There is the mountain that we call ‘understanding’. Every learned person in history has sought to summit it in one manner or another, from the ancient philosophers to the modern physicists and scientists. It is the foremost goal of any man of science to plant their flag at the top and declare, ‘we won’. The state of modern science is as such; they are slowly but surely climbing up a peak, and make no mistake they will reach it one day - they will reach the top, and declare science done, there is nothing more to be learned, and everything that there is to know is contained in our books. But they will then look out over the top of their mountain, into the valleys below and beyond, and be confused; because there are things they cannot explain. But that cannot be! They will say. We are at the top, there is nothing more!

The nature of their peak is that it is a false one. If they were only to look with proper care they would notice that, all around them, there are higher and higher peaks, and at a point in the far distance, there is the highest one, to which all peaks look upon in jealousy.  The scientist, however, will never reach this highest peak, because to do so would require them to first head down into the deep valleys below and navigate among the murky brushes and waters, blind, hoping to stumble upon the tallest one. In this sense, modern science - physics - is not the only description of the universe, but merely one of many. It is a mighty peak, to be sure; it certainly lies higher than that which the christians and their kin lie on. It looks out over the Greek pantheons, the occultists, and the many quacks out there with pride, but it is far from the highest.

The Gnosiform lies on a nearby, but fundamentally different, peak from that which the natural sciences lie on. We depend on it, but we believe, on a very deep level, that while they will eventually inevitably stagnate, we will grow ever more into the infinite potential that lies ahead of us. We do not claim it is the highest peak, far from it - do not be mistaken, though we recognize the potential that lies in unconventional exploration we have not either truly ventured down into those murky depths and valleys at the bottom of Mount Understanding, from which there might not be any coming back from. 

What we do recognize, however, is that while we can see the top of the natural sciences - the peak of the Gnosiform is still firmly hidden within the clouds.

All we can do is continue to ascend. 

SECTION 2:

THE GNOSIFORM: THE SCRIPT AND IT’S MAKEUP

There exists, as far as we can tell, everywhere in the air around us, and likely in space too though we have not had the means to test this, what we have termed the ‘Gnosiform’; It can most be likened to a particle, and in certain ways it behaves like one, but it also possesses certain qualities that are impossible for physical particles to possess, which we will explore in further detail in section 4. The Gnosiform is the fundamental carrier of information in the universe, by which we do not mean qualities such as mass, speed or spin, but rather what something ‘is’. 

On any ‘thing’, insofar as you are able to distinguish a ‘thing’ from another ‘thing’ - be that a particle, an elephant or a black hole - there sits an infinitely dense layer of the Gnosiform that describes an infinite amount of properties of that ‘thing’, in a manner we are yet to fully understand. Upon an elephant there exists such information as ‘possesses a trunk’, ‘is quadrupedal’ and ‘possesses a spine’, but also more fundamental information such as ‘is made of matter’, and ‘exists in physical reality’, and the same goes for every part of that elephant that is capable of being distinguished from another; its brain has the properties of ‘carries neurological signals’ its neurons contain the property of ‘is capable of firing electrical signals’, and on every electron there is the property of its mass, its spin, and soforth. 

The Gnosiform is not merely a descriptor of what is, but it ‘is’, on a fundamental layer. The Gnosiform does not describe reality; reality relies on the Gnosiform to determine what ‘is’ and what ‘is not’. 

As far as we have been able to determine, this is accomplished through what we would deem a ‘script’, though as this ‘script’ contains infinite information in a finite space this description might not be the most appropriate. Nonetheless, within our circles this has come to be the accepted term, and so we call it the ‘Gnosiscript’, or more simply, the script. 

SECTION 3: 

THE PHYSICAL PROPERTIES OF THE GNOSIFORM

As far as we understand it the Gnosiform has certain physical properties that closely match those of physical particles, although its exact structure is unknown to us. We have determined that it’s heavier than air, yet we do not know, at the present moment, how it is possible for something with mass to exist in infinite densities without spontaneously forming a black hole. The Gnosiform interacts with other particles only when excited or interacted with. In its natural state, it does not collide with any of the fundamental particles. 

§We have determined that, by bringing sufficient quantities of excited Gnosiforms into a closed space, it is possible to form what natural science would deem a vacuum, although this description is obviously a bit silly, as we aren’t emptying the space - we are filling it to the point that nothing else can exist within it, except the Gnosiform. The Gnosiform can under certain circumstances spontaneously shift its form into that of a standard particle, something that will be covered in the coming sections. 

SECTION 4:

THE PROSPECTIVE ONTOGRAPHER: THE PEN, AND MANIPULATING REALITY

While reading this document, a question has surely popped into your head on a multitude of occasions, that being - ‘if information exists in the form of a script, is it possible for this script to be manipulated?’ - and the answer to that is yes, in a certain sense. One who manipulates the script of reality is what we call an ‘ontographer’, though you might be disappointed to learn that it does not afford you the limitless power over reality itself that you might be imagining - although in the right hands it is certainly a powerful tool. It should be noted before we begin proper that this field is still barely five years old. We do not have the massive resources at our disposal afforded to the natural sciences, nor do we have centuries of accumulated knowledge, so though we claim to know what we are doing, in truth we know very little, and every day is a new discovery or revelation. Do not be surprised if, come five or ten more years, what is written in this document turns out to be mostly nonsense. We are summiting a mountain, and though we are already certain that we are higher up than the natural sciences, we are still far from seeing the top. By reading this document you have, whether you wanted to or not, became part of our collective journey towards discovery and knowledge. 

The fundamental tool of the ontographer - not unlike the mechanics wrench, or the knight’s sword - is what we have termed the reality pen. It is a small rod with an exceptionally sharp tip, upon which sits a mechanism that constantly stimulates and draws in Gnosiforms from the surrounding air. The reality pen allows the ontographer to write in the script of reality, should they be precise enough, and add information to any object they desire. Although this might sound powerful, there are certain important caveats to consider:

The first, and most obvious, is that we do not yet understand the script. We have several scattered, small puzzle pieces - individual words, if you will - but we are far from being able to write anything we want, which would require us to understand larger quantities of the script in very good detail. As with all our areas of interest, this is one where research is very much ongoing.

The second is the precise nature of the script. 

Attached below on the page is one of the first glyphs we determined with any certainty to correspond to something physical, in its entirety - ‘is on fire’. If this glyph is not copied down exactly, nothing will happen, or at worst something else, completely unexpected will happen.

 Now naturally we have methods to circumvent painstakingly having to draw these lines. Early on we managed to manufacture specialized ‘stamps’ that simply needed to be pressed onto any surface to imbue the mark, and of late some of our more tech-savvy members have turned to computer automation for quicker and easier access to a wide variety of glyphs of their choosing. 

The third and final puzzle, for now, is the matter of equivalent exchange. Unlike what you might have thought, we are not as far as we can tell, outside of the nature of the Gnosiform itself, violating any commonly held physical laws. Matter cannot be created or destroyed, merely transformed. Luckily for us, this includes the Gnosiform itself. Like was alluded to in section 3, the Gnosiform can, when necessary, spontaneously transform into standard particles. More specifically, this happens when any glyph would necessitate creating more mass than presently exists in order to be ‘reality’. In cases like this, Gnosiforms are taken from the surrounding air and converted into the requisite elemental particles. An example of this would be the glyph ‘has two arms’. 

Here, however, we once again encounter limitations, and perhaps our biggest hurdle yet; if there do not exist enough Gnosiforms in the surrounding air for a transformation to take place, it won’t. Every new member we have inevitably asks the questions ‘can i change the script of the earth?’ or sometimes, ‘can i modify the laws of the universe?’ and this fundamental fact is why that it is practically impossible; while theoretically possible doing so would require a quantity of Gnosiforms on a quantity that’s not worth spending much time thinking about. 

We have certain methods to alleviate this problem, first among them the glyph ‘attracts Gnosiforms’, which was a breakthrough on an unprecedented scale when it was discovered a while back. We also have more primitive methods of stimulating Gnosiforms into action and using the natural laws of pressure differentials to collect them in enclosed spaces. In many ways, this is still our best method for collecting the quantities of Gnosiforms required for any larger experiments, as the aforementioned glyph acts more like a light breeze than the vacuum you might have imagined. 

SECTION 5:

CONCLUSION

Although ontography is still a new field, we at the consortium fundamentally believe that with it, humanity may in time reach unprecedented heights, yet with it also come certain risks. Naturally, we eventually want to release our research into the public, but before that point can come we need to more carefully assess the risks involved, and gain a deeper understanding of what is going on. I do not think it should be an uncontroversial opinion that releasing a method that allows one to, with very limited know-how, set anything they so desire on fire, or turn it into stone, into the wider public without careful supervision - is not a good idea. Yet the benefits at some point outweigh the risks. 

We are imagining a future where, instead of having to go through a lengthy process of medical care, one may simply stamp a ‘is cancer-free’ glyph on themselves to instantly cure themselves of the scourge of humanity; or create near limitless energy with a glyph like ‘is frictionless’. We are not there yet, but at some point, we will be. We do not claim to be the arbiters of humanity's fate, but as it stands we do not know of any other group in the world that possesses the knowledge we do, and so we have deemed the task to fall on us, for the moment.

Here in St. Vincent, we will work tirelessly to create a better future, and if you are one of the chosen few sworn to secrecy that have received this document, you are free to join us, should you so wish. We are always in need of aspiring scientists and researchers who are willing to break the bounds of conventional science to do what has long been deemed impossible. Knock on our door, and we will take you in with open arms, as long as you embrace us in turn.

SCIENTIA POTENTIA EST

The St. Vincent Consortium for Gnosis and Aspiration

74 Markdown road, 

St. Vincent,

Federation of Victoria

098 838

[knoxic]

Doing a "who's most likely to" thingy but the answers are based on my DR:)

Who's most likely to-

1. Get arrested?

Hotch and Spencer. (let's be honest, they would make amazing unsubs with minds like that)

2. Act on a crush?

Rossi. (he would not hesitate. Derek claims its him but if he actually likes someone he will panic and avoid talking to them)

3. Join the army?

Hotch. (it would be like going to the gym for him yk, wouldn't feel a thing)

4. Win the lottery?

JJ. (buys them for fun and habit cuz her mom used to buy those every once in a while, except she's lucky and has won 5k as a teen and a motorcycle when she joined the BAU (she sold it))

5. Be late to an event?

Derek. (would claim its because Pen took too long to do her makeup but its actually because he does everything last minute and keeps dragging out leaving the house)

6. Lose their phone?

Garcia. (she has at least 3 phones in her bag but somehow always forgets one when we go out, once used my phone to text Derek and he thought I was confessing to him)

7. Always carry a pen?

Rossi. (has one specific pen that he wont share and it's a obligatory part of his outfit)

8. Start a fire?

Emily. (exploded our microwave heating up a coffe, Hotch made her buy a new one and she's now banished from the kitchen, only uses when one of us goes with her)

9. Go surfing?

Derek. (it's a talent, didn't know he could surf until after his 30s)

10. Cheat on a test?

Honestly everyone but Spencer... (Reid would be too scared to cheat but knows the answers anyway. I imagine if it's a work test to see if they're able to work, everyone would know which answers they're supposed to give. Hotch and Rossi have and would absolutely manipulate those exams to be able to work)

11. Cheat on a partner?

Derek. (Before Savannah, wouldn't cheat physically but got bored of his gfs really fast and would think of others while they're together. Eventually made them broke up with him so he wouldn't be the bad guy, canon)

12. Talk in their sleep?

Spencer and Emily (Spencer just rambles inaudible words but Emily is full on weird random phrases, she tries not to sleep in front of the team or else they'll tease her for it, JJ has a notebook with things Em said when they shared rooms)

13. Get a weird tattoo?

Garcia. (look me in the eye and tell me she never got a badly made tattoo before she joined the team, I dare you. Has a butterfly and some weird unidentified object/animal on her back she got while drunk, she does not remember getting it)

14. Adopt a stray dog?

Garcia and JJ. (while I think none of them would adopt any animals because of work, I do see them taking care of the stray dog to later give them to adoption yk)

15. Become bald-headed

Derek and Emily. (Derek for obvious reasons and Emily because she would totally shave her head if someone dared her)

16. Blow all their money on a impulse buy?

Garcia and Hotch. (Garcia is also a obvious one but Hotch would totally spend a tone if he saw something Jack has mentioned before, wouldn't hesitate)

17. Have a million followers on social media?

Garcia and Rossi (I would totally follow her on IG and Twitter, and Rossi because of the books, maybe he even buys followers... marketing reasons)

18. Cancel plans at the last second?

Hotch. (Already did that, has no problems cancelling plans unless it involves Jack)

19. Throw a fit during a game of monopoly?

Spencer and Derek(Already did, refuses to play again, everytime Derek makes him remember he almost cries. Derek is a sore loser)

20. Sleep anywhere anytime?

Emily. (I mentioned before that she tries to not sleep in front of the team and she really does but not always succeed, plane naps are the best for her)

21. Be the first one to die during a zombie apocalypse?

Derek. (thinks he could survive and would try to prove, would die in his 3rd zombie. I would also say Spencer but he would probably be so disgusted by the zombies that he wouldn't even go out to fight them)

22. Be the next USA president?

Hotch and Rossi. (ppl told Hotch he could but he refuses to believe, thinks politicians are dirty and thats an offence to him. Before his retirement Rossi was extremely involved with politics, after he came back and changed his mentality he thinks the same as Hotch (besties))

23. Be a stand-up comedian?

Rossi. (italian jokes, has a notebook with jokes he's heard along the way)

24. Start their own business?

Also Rossi, and Emily (Rossi would open an Italian restaurant that plays jazz all night. Emily would open a bar, totally safe for women. Free tequila shots for the ladies every now and then, calls you a uber and has ppl to accompany you if you need help, banishment rule If guys are being 🤮🤮🤮, bathrooms are safe for trans and nb ppl)

25. Be my best friend forever?

Emily. (the absolutely greatest friend you could have. made her my kids godmother)

26. Become a professional gambler?

Spencer. (do I need to explain?)

27. Have more than 10 piercings?

Garcia and Emily (both have had their ears full pierced but took it all off when they started working, Pen still used some of them when we go out)

28. Leave everything and move to another country?

Hotch. (already did... would be angry at himself if it had to happened after he joined the team)

29. Lock themselves out of the house?

Garcia. (most of the times she's too drunk to even remember where her house is, the few times she remembered she also lost her key during the front yard walk to her door, called morgan and he found her asleep on the floor)

30. Become a nun?

JJ. (grew up in a extremely religious family, wanted to be one before her sister died.)

found the questions on pinterest, just search "most likely to questions"

[antennaed-kenzy]

Letter 1

You'll never what I did today! I'll tell you when we get to meet again!

-love you {Y/n}

Letter 1 (Reply)

Why can't you tell me now? You know I don't like to wait.

-miss you Reo

Letter 2

Fine, yesterday my mom got me ice cream. But that's not all. She also took me to the park and we went on the swings together!

-love you {Y/n}

Letter 2 (Reply)

I wish I could have been with you! Sounds like you had a fun day.

-miss you Reo

Letter 3

I heard you had a soccer match today! Did you play well? And did you and Nagi win?

-love you {Y/n}

Letter 3 (Reply)

Yeah, the match didn't feel like 90 minutes. It felt way shorter. Wish you were there to see us win!

-miss you Reo

Letter 4

I really miss you, Reo. I wish I could hold your hand again and go out on dates like old times.

-love and miss you {Y/n}

Letter 5

I know you're getting busy these past few days. That's why you couldn't reply. If I'm being honest I have no clue if you got the last letter.

-love and miss you {Y/n}

Letter 5 (Reply)

I did receive both letters! And you're right I have gotten a lot busy these last few days. I'll try my hardest to respond though!

-love and miss you too Reo

Letter 6

If you are that busy then there is no need to respond right away. Just know I'll send these letters every day I can.

-love and miss you {Y/n}

Letter 7

My mom is writing this letter. My hands gave out and it's hand to pick up a pen or pencil. Though with that being said I hope you have a great day, Reo.

-love and miss you {Y/n}

Letter 8

Sorry if this is bothering you. But I really do miss you, Reo. I want to feel and hug you again. I want to talk with you in person again. I know you're busy and that's why you haven't been responding, but at least say something to this letter so I know you feel the same.

-love and miss you {Y/n}

Letter 8 (Reply)

{Y/n} I feel the same way I pink promise! I want to hold your face and kiss you again. Hold your hand while we watch movies. I miss the days when you would show up to our soccer practice and cheer me on.

-love and miss you too Reo

Letter 9

Aww, Reo, you make my heart flutter with joy. This is why I fell in love with you and only you!

-love you with all that I have {Y/n}

Letter 9 (Reply)

{Y/n} don't say that. I love you too.

-love and miss you too Reo

Letter 10

It's getting worse. My mom is writing this letter again cause' I can barely lift my arm up. It even hurt when trying to tell my mom what to put down.

-love and miss you {Y/n}

Letter 11

The doctors don't think some of my meds are working. I'm going into surgery tomorrow. I hope I come out alive and better than before.

-love and miss you {Y/n}

Letter 11 (Reply)

{Y/n} please don't say that. I know you'll come out better and stronger than you were before. I believe in you!

-I love and believe in you! Reo

Letter 12

Hey, are you doing ok? Or are you still in surgery?

-I love and believe in you! Reo

Letter 13

Please tell me if you are doing alright, {Y/n}. And sorry if this paper is wet.

-I love and believe in you! Reo

Letter 14

Please, {Y/n}. Don't leave me.

-I love and believe in you! Reo

Letter 15

We just won another match! Wish you were here to see it!

-I love and miss you Reo

Letter 16

Did the surgery go well?

-I love and miss you Reo

Letter 17

Guessing your doctors are still working hard.

-I love and miss you Reo

Letter 18

Are you even seeing these letters, {Y/n}? I hope you are smiling at them!

-I love and miss you Reo

Letter 19

Please {Y/n} I miss you so much. I wish I got to hold you in my arms one last time. No, I wish I got to see your smile that lights up the world. I wish I got to kiss your face one last time and look at all your defining features. I wish I could have heard your godsend voice one last time and have kept those words dear to my heart. I wish I could have started into those [e/c] eyes of yours and see to you bright would. I wish I could have got to take you on one last date so it could be the last memory of you instead of knowing you didn't want to tell me you were sick. That burden you were carrying on your shoulders, I wish we could have shared it together.

-I love you and I miss you Reo

Letter 20

I miss you so much, my love.

-I love you and I miss you so much {Y/n} Reo

Wow, did I just write Angst of Reo? I've always wanted to do something like this and I finally had the right idea. Request are open! also not proofread

[sherrywarraich]

25 + Best Goodbye poems for colleagues

1. Warm and Appreciative

In the halls where laughter used to ring, We’ve shared our stories, let our voices sing. The moments, memories, smiles we’ve grown, Now it’s time for new seeds to be sown.

Though we’re parting ways, our paths diverge, Our bond remains, a lasting surge. Good luck, good fortune, in all you pursue, I’m grateful for everything you do, my dear buddies.

View Original

2. Reflective and Sincere

As we turn this page and say goodbye, It’s hard to let these moments slip by. Together we’ve built something so rare, A team, a family, beyond compare.

Though our journey here must end today, Your impact on my heart will always stay. May success and joy follow your way, In each bright dawn and every new day.

3. Light-hearted and Playful

From coffee breaks to office chats, We’ve shared laughs, we’ve worn many hats. Now it’s time to chase new dreams, And savor life’s delicious themes.

Though we’re parting, don’t you fear, Just think of all the fun we’ve had here! Go on, conquer the world, have some fun, Just remember, dear friends, you’re second to none!

4. Simple and Direct

Farewell, dear colleagues, it’s time to part, With heavy hearts and grateful hearts. Your friendship and support were truly grand, Wishing you success as you take a stand.

May the future bring you all you seek, In every venture, strong and sleek. Goodbye for now, keep in touch, You’ve meant so much.

5. Nostalgic and Tender

In corridors where memories reside, We’ve walked together, side by side. The laughter, the projects, the long, late nights, All weave into our shared delights.

Though our paths now lead us away, The warmth of our bond will forever stay. Cherish the moments, as we move on, For the mark of our time here will always be strong.

6. Encouraging and Uplifting

As you venture into the unfamiliar and new, Remember the seeds of success you’ve sown. Your talents and drive will light your way, In each challenge that comes your way.

Embrace the future with courage and cheer, For your next chapter is drawing near. Though we part ways, your spirit will shine, Wishing you all that’s grand and divine.

Must Read And Wish: What does it mean when you dream about female colleague? 8 Best Answers Available

7. Heartfelt and Grateful

It’s hard to say goodbye to friends so true, To all the moments shared with each of you. Your kindness and support have made days bright, In every challenge, you’ve been my light.

As we go forth on our separate trails, May success and joy fill our sails. Thank you for the laughter, the strength, and the cheer, You’ve made this journey so very dear.

8. Poetic and Reflective

As the sun sets on this chapter we’ve penned, A new dawn awaits, around the bend. We’ve crafted memories with care and grace, In this shared, special work space.

I hope that the sun will shine on you in the morning. With achievements and joy, and challenges won. Though our time together now draws to a close, The impact of our bond forever grows.

9. Professional and Appreciative

With gratitude and respect, we bid adieu, To a team that’s been dedicated and true. Your expertise and spirit have shone so bright, In every endeavor, you’ve taken flight.

As you embark on your new and exciting course, May success and fulfillment be your driving force. Thank you for your contributions and grace, You’ve left an indelible mark in this place.

10. Friendly and Casual

From early mornings to afternoon’s end, You’ve been more than just a colleague, but a friend. It’s time to take off now and extend your wings. To new adventures and places to show.

We’ll miss your jokes and the fun we’ve had, But we know you’ll make the future look grand. So here’s a cheer to the paths you’ll chart, With warmest wishes from the heart.

11. Joyful and Optimistic

As you set off on a brand new quest, We hope you find what brings you the best. With dreams to chase and goals to reach, May your new path be within easy reach.

We’ve shared so much, from work to play, It’s time for a fresh start today. With cheer and hope, we bid you farewell, May your future be a wondrous tale to tell.

12. Appreciative and Supportive

Your departure leaves a gentle space, Yet we hold dear your smile and grace. The mark you’ve left is deep and true, We’re grateful for the time with you.

As you venture to a new horizon bright, Know our thoughts and wishes are with you each night. May success and happiness follow your way, And bring you joy each and every day.

13. Sentimental and Warm

In this chapter, we’ve shared so much, Moments of wisdom, and a caring touch. Though we part, the bond remains, A cherished memory, free of strains.

May your journey ahead be filled with light, And may your dreams take graceful flight. We’ll hold close the times we’ve had, And wish you well with a heart that’s glad.

14. Encouraging and Dynamic

It’s time for us to split ways now. But you carry a piece of our heart. With every step in the new endeavor, May success and joy be yours forever.

Embrace the challenges, chase the sun, Your journey’s just begun. We’re cheering you on from where we stand, With wishes for a future so grand.

15. Reflective and Profound

As the days turn into nights and years, We part with fondness and a few tears. In every challenge, and every win, You’ve shown a spirit that’s deep within.

May your next chapter be as bright as the stars, With every dream and every wish in cars. Though we say goodbye, our hearts remain, Connected by memories, a gentle refrain.

16. Heartfelt and Touching

Our time together has flown so fast, Yet the memories we’ve made will always last. With every project and every cheer, We’ve grown together, year by year.

As you leave for paths anew, Remember the team that believes in you. We wish you joy and dreams fulfilled, For your future is bright and beautifully skilled.

17. Poetic and Gentle

Through days of toil and moments shared, Our time together has truly cared. Now as you journey to skies unknown, Carry with you the seeds we’ve sown.

May your future be a gentle breeze, Filled with moments that aim to please. Though we part ways, our spirits blend, In memories cherished, we’ll always be friends.

18. Cheerful and Bright

From brainstorming sessions to coffee breaks, We’ve shared so many wonderful stakes. As you move forward to new pursuits, May happiness and success be your roots.

We’ll miss your laughter and your grace, But we know you’ll thrive in every place. So here’s a cheer to all that’s new, With warmest wishes from all of us to you.

19. Reflective and Appreciative

In the tapestry of work and play, We’ve woven memories along the way. Though the time has come for us to part, You’ve made a lasting mark on every heart.

With gratitude for the times we’ve shared, And for the way you’ve always cared, We wish you well on the path you choose, May success and happiness be yours to use.

20. Inspirational and Hopeful

As you set sail on a new endeavor, May your spirit stay strong, now and forever. With aspirations to pursue and objectives to meet, May every step bring joy and less pain.

Though we say goodbye, it’s not the end, For the future holds paths to transcend. Keep believing in the power you wield, And let your aspirations be your shield.

21. Simple and Heartfelt

Saying goodbye is never easy, But our hearts are full and breezy. With every project and every task, We’ve shared smiles that’ll always last.

May your journey ahead be filled with cheer, And may success follow you, year by year. We’ll miss you dearly, that’s clear to see, Good luck and happiness from all of us to thee.

22. Reflective and Motivating

As you move on and we part ways, Remember the strength of a new dawn. You’ve touched our lives in ways profound, In every challenge, you’ve been renowned.

May your next chapter be filled with grace, And bring you to a bright, new place. With heartfelt wishes as you embark, May success and joy be your guiding spark.

23. Friendly and Warm

From daily meetings to casual chats, We’ve shared good times, and that’s where it’s at. As you go off to new adventures and fun, Know that our best wishes are always the one.

We’ll miss your laughter and your friendly face, But we know you’ll find a wonderful place. So here’s to you and the roads ahead, May they be filled with joy and moments well-spread.

24. Poetic and Gentle

In this garden of work, we’ve grown, Together, our seeds of effort sown. Now as you step into the light, We wish you journeys both bold and bright.

May there be grace along the path ahead, And happiness follow you to every place. Though our paths now separate ways, We’ll remember fondly our shared days.

25. Encouraging and Positive

With each new dawn comes a fresh start, A new adventure for your eager heart. We’ve shared a journey, now it’s time to go, To find new paths and make your own show.

As you venture forth with dreams in sight, May success and joy fill your days and nights. We’ll be cheering you on from afar, Wishing you the best as you reach for the stars.

26. Warm and Supportive

As you move forward to what’s ahead, Know that we’re here, though we’re not in the same stead. The bond we’ve forged will never break, In every memory, your mark we’ll stake.

I hope the days ahead are as radiant as your grin. Filled with achievements that make life worthwhile. We’ll miss you dearly, that’s without doubt, But we’re excited for the new paths you’ll scout.

27. Grateful and Optimistic

From early starts to long day’s end, We’ve worked together, colleague and friend. Now as you move towards something new, Please know that you always have our best wishes.

May you feel happy and proud of your new role. With opportunities far and wide. We’re grateful for the time we’ve shared, And hopeful for the path you’ve dared.

[leftnotright]

A TEXTBOOK EDUCATION

"This will be a skill-building experience. You've had it too easy. You've had your Family name to back you, and your Right Hand at your every call. It's time you learn to carry yourself, to build from the ground up." Dino Cavallone, the Cavallone Don, fresh out of high school.

Reborn, the deadliest hitman of the modern era, has a special kind of torture up his sleeve for his dear struggling student. Dino will have to see how well he handles alienation, isolation, and worst of all, class participation. “Now, go on, my useless student Dino. Let’s continue your education.” (Or: Reborn sends Dino to Australia. It goes better than he could have ever hoped.)

Parings: N/A Characters: Dino (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Vic Hunt (OC - Original Character), Reborn (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Romario (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Cavallone Famiglia, Enzo (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Original Characters Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, University, Pre-Canon, Financial Issues, Fluff And Angst

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

CHAPTER 5: EVEN IF WE GOTTA RISK IT ALL

Dino’s coffee table was covered in papers, every page of debt he had available on display with their numbers highlighted and circled. Open on his computer was an internet window with several tabs all squashed together along the top. Dino reached over and moved his cursor across the words: ‘MELBOURNE CUP 2022 WINNINGS FIRST PLACE: $4,400,000’. 

“A bonus of $500,000 for the owner, if their horse won the group one Irish St. Leger run the previous September,” Dino uttered slowly, reading the details of the Melbourne Cup with slow, careful eyes. He penned it down.

The Melbourne Cup didn’t have the largest purse in horse racing, just a bit of skimming had told Dino that. On a notepad, Dino had written down: ‘ DUBAI WORLD CUP $7.2MIL, KENTUCKY DERBY $1.8MIL, THE EVEREST $6.2MIL (IN SYDNEY!)’

But out of all the horse races, especially in the catchment of Australia, the Melbourne Cup had, by far, the greatest reputation. ‘The race that stops the nation’. What a title.

If Dino were to try and get more bang for his buck, he’d have been wiser to go for the Everest or Dubai. However, Dino wasn’t trying to be a one-hit wonder. With the Melbourne Cup came fame, a name backing his horses and the Cavallone brand. If Dino won the Melbourne Cup, it would only make enrolling in richer races all the more simple. 

A meagre four million wasn’t going to put much of a dent in the Cavallone’s debts. No, winning one race wasn’t going to pull them out of the red. Dino was going to be in this for the long haul, participating in one race after another. 

 He needed numbers. As many hooves on the track as possible to increase his chances of winning high positions if not first place. The more horses Dino had in the races, the more prize money he could rake in - and hopefully, break even.

Racing costs money. 

Training, for both jockey and horse. Transportation, feeding, accommodation, equipment and uniforms. All of that came after the original enrollment payments, and for the Melbourne Cup, there were rounds of it. Three to be exact. 

And that was just the Melbourne Cup. 

Dino grimaced and sipped a cup of water, blessedly cold after Dino had found the ice rack in the freezer. He put the glass against his temple and sighed.

There wasn’t much more he could do by himself. Before Dino ran off with this idea, with all his hopeful ‘what if’s and ‘we could’s, Dino would have to present his case to the Family. And since this was going to involve the horses and a whopping portion of the Cavallone funds, he was going to have to talk to the Stable Master and the Vault Keeper. 

That was a full-blown Family Meeting, Dino had never called one of those before! The last time Dino had even seen the Vault Keeper was-

Dino took a slow breath and concentrated on the feeling of cold perspiration dripping down the side of his face. 

The last time Dino had seen the Vault Keeper was the day of his succession and within the hour of his father’s death. 

The Stable Master, at least, Dino knew quite well. 

“Okay,” Dino murmured to Enzo who peeked out from under the coffee table. “For a formal Family Meeting, who do I need to call? Right Hand, Stable Master, Vault Keeper, probably the Head of Housekeeping to keep them in the loop and-” Dino winced, “Available Guardians.”

The Cavallone Don groaned as he flopped back on the couch, still holding that glass to his forehead to try and ward off that headache he felt creeping up on him. 

It wasn’t working. 

☁ ☁ ☁

 The first thing Vic noticed when Dino stumbled into class was that he was all but dead on his feet. The poor guy was slumped over in his seat, resting heavily on the desk in front of him. 

 Vic came and found her seat next to Dino at their group’s table. She unpacked her laptop and produced a folder, full of the handouts and the straws and blu-tack for their activity. 

“How’re you doing?” Vic asked, and gave Dino a gentle nudge.

Dino’s arm slipped out from under his jaw and his head hit the desk with a ‘ bang! ’. Vic cursed as heads snapped around and quickly moved to scoop up Dino’s head, hissing at the red mark on the boy’s forehead.

“Fuck,” she wheezed and Dino blinked widely, very much awake now. “You’re in a fucking state! When did you go to bed?”

“Uuuh,” Dino squinted as he rubbed his head, “The, uh-”

Vic had the sudden and horrible feeling that this boy hadn’t actually gone to sleep that night. She looked to her folder, then to the lesson’s tutor who was setting up the projector for the day’s rostered presentation: Social Class.

Oh fuck.

Where the hell was Jess? Vic looked at her phone and saw a text in the group chat.

Jessica Cheng

Hi guys, really sorry the trains are being replaced by buses, I’m gonna be like 10 minutes late. 

Jessica Cheng

Can we just move the activity after Vic and I’ll come in last?

Jessica Cheng

I’ll sprint it, I promise

Vic twitched and looked at the clock. They were only required to speak for three minutes each. Dino looked like he could speak for less. 

She groaned and rubbed her head before sending a text back.

Vic Hunt

Sure, we’ll buy you time.

Jessica Cheng

Kk see you soon

Jessica went abruptly offline then and Vic only hoped she was able to get across campus fast enough. 

“I will be okay,” Dino grumbled from inside his pillow of arms. “May speak, uh, slowly. But it will be done.”

Vic looked to Dino and then slumped in her chair. She took a breath through her nose and out her mouth, her feet pressed hard into the carpeted floor. 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure, we’ll be fine.”

“Dino, Jessica and Vic,” the tutor called and Vic grimaced.

By the end of their tutorial, Jess had scampered off to catch her bus home and Dino and Vic had chosen a sunny patch of grass by the Macquarie University's lake to wallow on. Vic was laid out on her back, her limbs still throbbing with nerves after public speaking adlib with Jess coming not ten, but fifteen minutes late to class. 

Vic was sure she had covered the same point twice with multiple stutters and ‘uh’s. 

“That sucked,” Vic whined loudly.

Dino appeared in her peripheral, sat at her side, and gave a weak smile of agreement. Vic had no idea what he was talking about. Despite his loose hold on English - that was only getting better, she kept reminding him - he had spoken with some kind of damning confidence in his voice that made Vic want to kick him in the shins for making her think he was going to all but faint on her. He spoke like he was used to presenting to groups of people! The bastard!

Vic frowned at him severely, before rolling over in the grass and burying her face in her backpack.

“I believe we- we did very well!” Dino assured and Vic huffed when he gave her a pat on the back. Then under his breath she heard him whisper, “How are you not sweaty?”

“Not everyone had pores like a waterfall,” Vic answered before turning her head and asked, “And what the fuck Dino? You were acting like you were going to die when we got up to speak but as soon as we got that slide up you might have well have been Steve fucking Jobs releasing the new iPhone!”

Dino blinked, and then he curled in on himself. His ears flushed red and Vic had the sudden and intense urge to ask if he had put sunscreen on them today. 

“I, uh, hesitated a lot.”

“No more than I fucking did,” Vic pointed out, “And dude your projection. The teacher had to ask Jess to speak up -- and asked me to slow down. Your pacing was spot on!”

Once again, Dino ducked his head and Vic was reminded of Enzo recoiling back after bumping into her thermos during a study session. 

“You know what? Fuck it, you’re helping me with my public speaking skills from now on. You could sell water to a drowning man.” Vic demanded, before reaching out and poking at Dino’s cargo shorts’ pocket. “Now, release the baby.”

Dino laughed and unpacked Enzo from his pocket, the little turtle stubbornly hiding in his shell even when he was placed on the grass between them, safely in Dino’s shadow. Vic grinned and rolled over to her side, cooing happily as the presence of Enzo soothed her academically injured soul.

 “Hello! Oh hello,” Vic chirped, a complete one-eighty flip from the grumpy, huffy mood she had been in before. “He’s not coming out.”

“Too much sun,” Dino offered, gesturing to the heat that bathed the whole lake despite the students that spotted the valley.  

Vic hummed, it didn’t feel too hot to her. But then again, Enzo had spent most of his life in Italy with Dino. Then she poked Enzo’s shell and saw an eye peeking out at her in great disgruntlement.

“Wait,” Vic sat up and stared at the lake. “Wait, he's a turtle, he can go in the lake! A nice swimmy!” 

Dino’s head snapped around. 

 “After being in your stuffy-ass pocket, a good swim must be exactly what he needs!” Vic insisted, grinning with teeth again.

Dino snatched Enzo up off the ground before Vic could grab him, a nervous smile on his face and a whole new sheet of sweat going down his neck. 

“No! No, uh, Enzo is a- a saltwater turtle! I do not know if the lake water will agree with him.”

Vic paused. Fuck he was right. She winced and scratched the back of her head, feeling bits of grass and leaves come out. 

“Right, sorry, didn’t think about that.” 

God that was a dick move. What was she going to do, grab someone’s emotional support turtle and dump it wherever? Think it through Vic!

“It is okay,” Dino assured, and Vic nearly jumped when he touched her arm -- wow, his hand was moist. “It wouldn’t have hurt him. Enzo is a strong boy.”

Then he reached across and gently placed Enzo in her lap, still once again in his shadow. 

“I don’t think he is liking how warm I am,” Dino laughed.

Vic looked down at Enzo in her lap, then to Dino’s open face. She tucked her chin into her chest and bit down on her smile.

Vic spun and flopped back onto her back with a huff, relaxing all over as she lay in the sun. On her stomach, she felt Enzo shuffle around until he settled on the soft, pillowy space of her stomach.

Dino reached into his pocket and fed the still-hiding Enzo a pellet at a time.

“So, what were you even doing for the whole night?” Vic asked.

Dino shrugged, “Uh, I’ve been investigating. Learning about horse racing, and dealing with some Family issues.” 

Vic hummed lowly, “You’re really keen on that racing idea.”

Dino smiled, and leant back on his hands, voice quiet as he said, “If we can race again…It may save my Family.”

Vic blinked, then tilted her head as she observed him. Vic had only known Dino for little over just a month now, but she felt like she had a loose, if not a reasonable, grasp on one of Dino’s core values: Family.

To Dino, family always comes first. In fact, most of their conversations had at some point turned to family. Dino, at this point, could list off all of Vic’s cousins, aunts and uncles, and Vic was sure she would have to fight Romario for adoption rights.

The ‘Dino Adoption’ debate had become a rather hot topic in the Hunt Houses, a split between factions: To-Adopt, and Not-To-Adopt. Not-To-Adopt was dwindling in numbers, however, with every Dino or University-centric rant Vic sent home. Robbie’s crown was slipping, and Vic’s mum had started a guest bedroom Pinterest inspo-board. 

Vic, her mum and her grandma had been steadfastly ignoring Robbie’s screaming voice messages that ‘we don’t even have a spare room!’

Her dad had always liked carpentry, Vic was sure he’d come up with something. He was always rather smart with his hands — something Vic’s mum liked to sing praises of until someone begged her to shut up over a sea of gagging children. Maybe he’d build a barnyard style granny-flat. Speaking of barns—

“So, like, you’ve been breeding horses for years. You got any cute ones? Like, ones that are fluffy?”

Vic felt like she had at least a loose grip on Dino, and nothing got ‘horse girl’ Dino talking like his horses. Only ask for photos if you’ve got the next few hours free. Dino’s Econ tutorial had been cancelled, they had the whole day.    

The things Vic did to keep her soon-to-be-adopted Dino happy. 

Dino was already fumbling for his phone by the time Vic had uttered the words ‘fluffy’. 

“We have this Przewalski Mongolian! Ah! Beautiful coat! So good to brush, and when she’s freshly bathed!?” 

Dino turned his phone and Vic wheezed at the horse, covered in thick packed fuzz and fur. 

“Oh God, hugging that? Fuckin’ bliss,” Vic all but swooned. “I wanna be squished between two.”

Then she paused, sat up and squinted at the corner of Dino’s screen.

“Gimme that.” Vic took Dino’s phone despite the squawk of alarm and zoomed out to see what Dino had tried to hide. 

In the background of the photo was an early highschool-aged Dino, sporting braces on his teeth and several bandaids all over, and being dragged by the waist of his pants by some huge stallion. The panic and flurry of multiple stablehands and Romario himself attempting to save Dino, a direct contrast to the peaceful grazing of the Mongolian in the foreground. 

Vic snorted before wheezing out her whole lung capacity. Enzo gave a disgruntled click and slipped off Vic’s jumping stomach as she continued to laugh, only fuelled by Dino’s betrayed and indignant babbling. 

Dino lept to take his phone back, but their squabble of hands shifted and zoomed until baby-Dino’s face, crumpled and folded in unflattering fear, took up the screen. Vic doubled over again, cackling with belly and teeth.

Dino huffed as he stole back his phone and moved the picture on screen safely back into his camera roll. He crossed his arms and waited for Vic to be done.

 She took a huge breath, glanced at Dino's face, and then promptly let out another belt of laughter.

 “It was not that funny!” Dino scolded, helping Enzo up into his lap.

 “It was!” Vic gasped, and Dino gave her a smack on the arm.

 “Ah! Abuse! In front of the child!”

 “Enzo has seen worse.”

 “No, my baby,” Vic cried quietly, and rolled over to mourn the sweet turtle’s lost innocence.

 Dino huffed and shifted on the spot, phone in his hands.

 “...We also have a new Haflinger foal,” he said and, this time with an iron grip on his phone, showed Vic the knobbly-kneed foal beside its mother.

 Vic snorted and settled down in the sunbathed grass to be once again regaled of the Cavallone’s prized herd. As always, Dino spoke rapidly. Stumbling over words, ‘ahs’ and ‘ums’, repetition and mistakes not slowing him down in the least as he raved about the last Spring’s yield of four new foals. What Vic couldn’t understand through a thick accent or patchy English-Italian half-words, Vic could fill in with the side gestures Dino made. Vic had heard that Italians spoke with their hands, and Dino was only supporting that stereotype as he drew the shape of a massive mare.

 “Nearly two me’s!” Dino exclaimed.

 Vic imagined a horse that stood well over her own height and immediately felt the need to climb on one. She’d never ridden a horse before, but surely you just, like, clamber up and hold on for dear life.

Dino’s great tale was interrupted, however, when a shrill, aghast voice cut through the afternoon.

“ What the fuck is that!? ”

Dino’s head snapped around and Vic sat up as she saw a girl break off from her group and come storming over. The rest of her group were calling out to her, one of them tried to grab her by her bag.

Vic blinked slowly as the girl came to a stop at Dino’s side, her hackles raised with some kind of righteous anger in her eyes. 

Vic glanced to Dino and asked, “Ah, this your ex or something?”

Dino looked to Vic with wild confusion, “I do not know, I-”

“This is illegal!” The girl snapped and Dino let out a yelp as her hand lashed out and scooped up the still-tucked Enzo. 

In an instant, that warm calm that had utterly steeped Vic’s body flushed out.  

“Oi!” Vic bellowed and sprung to her feet, fists clenched. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

A hot anger boiled in Vic’s blood, Dino’s horror-struck expression only fueling it as he tried to organise himself and ask for Enzo back.

“This!” The girl shouted again, shoving Enzo in Vic’s face, and then Dino’s. “Is an incredibly invasive species! It is illegal to have a Red Eared Slider turtle in Australia!”

“He’s not a Red Slider, you fuck!” Vic seethed, “Enzo’s a Sponge turtle!”

“Look at this shell-”

“Look at his fucking face! ”  

“It's invasive!”

“He’s the wrong fucking species! ” Vic shouted and went to grab Enzo back.

The girl backed out of reach and held Enzo to her chest, loud, angry clicking coming from inside his shell. 

“Red Eared Sliders are aggressive and utterly destroy Australia’s natural freshwater habitats! It needs to be handed over to RSPCA so they can ship it out or put it down!”

Dino gave a sharp gasp of alarm and Vic saw red. 

The hold she had on her temper snapped like a thread pulled taut and with heat in her skin, she lunged forward. Vic went at the girl with nails and elbows. She swiped and poor Enzo went flying in a direction she blindly hoped was Dino’s, a soft ‘aaaaaaaaaaa’ emitting from the shell as it disappeared from her tunnel vision.

The girl screamed as Vic got her hands on her, and threw her whole body weight to send the girl head over heels. She hit the water with an almighty splash, and a flock of ducks noisily took flight.

Vic breathed ragged through her teeth, fists clenched. Her temper, white-hot and utterly boiling her blood, was only slightly settled by the sight of the shell-shocked girl sitting, drenched in the lake.

“Who’s the fucking ‘invasive species’ now, bitch!?” Vic bellowed.

"Got to go, got to go!" Dino chanted near hysterically as he grabbed Vic by her arm and started running.

Vic with gritted teeth and tense shoulders, let Dino drag her across the field and towards the Village. She huffed when she nearly crashed into Dino’s back as he came to a sudden, slow walk. Dino, casually, innocently, walked with Vic passed Campus Security as they sailed passed in their little golf carts.

Vic snorted through her nose and gave Dino’s back a scrutinising look but couldn’t be bothered to see past her own heat haze. 

The gates of the Village came into view and Vic stormed forward, taking heavy, stomped footsteps all the way through to her shitty five-bedroom dormhouse, with her shitty roommates, who didn’t respect her fucking personal space-!

Vic hit her bed facedown. Calm down, calm down, calm fucking down!

Faintly, in the far back of her awareness, Vic heard Dino sit in her creaking desk chair and the thump of him dropping their bags. Dino was such a good boy - what was he doing when Enzo was taken she didn’t look - he was so nice and warm - he walked passed the security didn’t even flinch knew what to do-

Vic rolled onto her back and took a breath in through her nose and out her mouth. In and out, in and out. That girl had said to put Enzo down. Dino’s support animal, someone he took everywhere with him no matter what - Dino needed Enzo and that girl said ‘put down’. 

Vic took another breath in. She clenched her fists. A breath out and clenched her forearms- Why wasn’t it working-

There was a roar in her ears, a thundering thump in her chest.

Then a weight dropped on her stomach, just substantial enough that Vic started out of her rambling spiral. Vic lifted her head and craned her neck, Enzo’s big, beady eyes stared back up at her.

Enzo looked around slowly, before his feet popped out from his shell and, slowly, he plodded up to find a comfortable place on Vic’s chest. 

Just behind Enzo, Vic could see Dino, his hands still outstretched from where he had dropped Enzo on her.

Dino smiled a bit, an awkward, lopsided thing, and said, “Enzo, he, uh, helps me be calm.”

Vic blinked, before she let out a puff of breath. She dropped her head back and used Enzo’s weight to try and sink that rising heat. She felt that familiar rumble in her chest swell and grow, and she let it out in a long, gaping yawn.

Vic hated getting angry, she was always tired afterwards.

Vic sniffed and scratched her cheek, her body heavy right down to the core like her bones were waterlogged. 

“You wanna eat somethin’?” Vic asked.

Dino paused, startled, before he lowered himself to sit on the edge of Vic’s bed and said, “Yeah, what would you like?”

“Chicken nuggets. So many chicken nuggets.”

☁ ☁ ☁

Greasy wrappers and stray grains of salt littered the foot of Vic’s bed as the two of them sat up against the wall, Vic’s phone playing music in the background. Dino heaved as he slumped against the wall. He had eaten an obscene amount of nuggets and sweet and sour sauce.

Vic, somehow, was still going. 40 chicken nuggets, and so far 17 of them were sitting in the seemingly bottomless chasm of Vic’s belly.

Dino slurped on his cola as Vic, unflinchingly, ate her 18th and reached for another. 

“How’s Enzo?” Vic asked through half a mouthful of nugget. 

Dino looked to the turtle that, more or less, had put them into hiding for the foreseeable future — or at least until the blurry video of ‘bodily yeeting entitled Karen into lake’ stopped popping up on Dino’s feed every time he refreshed it. It had become a meme template. The speed of the internet was terrifying.

Vic, hearing the grainy sound of her own voice hollering “Who’s the fucking ‘invasive species’ now, bitch!?” shoved her 20th nugget into her mouth. 

Dino winced and closed his phone. 

“Enzo is fine. I told you, he is hardy.”

Vic grumbled and reached to pet Enzo, who paused his munching on a bag of mixed leaves Vic had pulled from a cooler - an ‘esky’ - in the corner of her room. There were three, all stacked on each other and full of chilled foodstuffs.  

Dino glanced at Vic and saw the 24th nugget disappear. He had already seen a fridge in the shared kitchen on the way up to the room. Now, maybe, wasn’t the best time to ask.

Nonetheless, Dino stored it in his memory, another conversation starter!

Vic’s phone suddenly stopped playing music, and the screen flipped to an incoming call. Vic sighed and shoved her last nugget in her mouth before answering the call from ‘Robbie’.

“What?” She asked, muffled around her chicken nugget.

Dino took another sip of his drink as Vic leant her head on his shoulder. 

Casual touch. Dino hadn't experienced that in… Weeks. It had only just dawned on him how much he had missed it after leaving home. 

Dino shifted a bit to make sure he was comfortable - both for him and Vic. He almost felt like someone priming their lap with blankets, hoping the family cat would choose them for the foreseeable hours.

Dino's rather cosy trail of thought was interrupted by the caller on Vic's phone.

“You fucking threw someone into a lake!?” Robbie screeched from the other side of the phone.

Vic made a lazy, noncommittal noise as she slowly chewed, completely unhurried by the state her brother was apparently in. 

“Vicky, I thought you were over this!”

Vic proceeded to mutter something vaguely mocking through her chewing. Dino snorted a bit despite how he tried to send her a scolding look. Vic ignored him.

“Jesus Christ, Vicky- Why’d you even do it!?”

Vic took a sip of her frozen coke and simply said, “Bitch tried to take Dino’s turtle.”

There was a faint bang, and then a distinctly loud bang. Then came the scream of Robbie being tackled and the fight for the phone.

“Bitch did what to Enzo!?”

Dino glanced to Vic. He had been wondering where she had sent all those turtle pictures — evidently, a good bulk had gone to Bec, her cousin.

“Crazy cunt fucking stole Enzo out of Dino’s lap like he was a Woolies apple and started going on about ‘invasive species’ and ‘putting him down’ and like fuck was I gonna let her talk shit like that!” Vic ranted, waving her cup at the far window like her cousin was standing before them.

There was a pause, before there was a chorus of approval in the background. At least four voices all chipped in with their opinions and Dino was hit with the sudden realisation that there was a roomful of Hunts on the other end of that line.

“You should have thrown her deeper, Vicky!”

“Strengthen those little chicken wings! You’ve gotta start going to the gym!”

“Don’t support this!” Robbie yelled over the cheering and was met with a round of ‘boo’s.

“Oi, we always back family! Even if they’re doing something kinda stupid — we always back our family!”

Dino stared down at the bubbles patterning the sides of his waxed paper cup. Family always backs each other.

“Dino and Enzo are my babies, I’m not letting some half-cocked bitch make ‘em sad,” Vic scoffed and wrapped an arm around him — tipping a bit of ice down the back of his shirt as she did. Not entirely by accident, if Vic’s snicker meant anything as he frantically tried to get it out.

As Dino finally got the last of the ice out from the waist of his pants, Dino saw Vic grin up at him with the usual amount of teeth. He huffed and couldn’t resist smiling back at her.

Romario was going to be so proud of him. Everyone was going to be proud of him! 

Family backs each other, even in their riskiest of endeavours.

“If you wanna adopt the bastard, you’ve gotta stop being violent in public!”

There were jeers and the bellowing of a crowd of people and Vic slipped off Dino’s shoulder and back onto her bed, phone pressed to her ear. 

Dino looked down at Vic as she listened to her family through the phone. She looked the most relaxed he had seen her in — probably ever. Distinctly, it wasn't that strange, almost sedated calm that followed Vic around usually. This calm was the most human he had seen, the most natural.

Dino looked down at Vic, who laid with her eyes closed and her family screaming in her ear, and found himself wondering what kind of Flame she had hidden dormant.

Then, there was a loud crash from Vic's phone and the line went dead, someone had obviously slapped the end button with their elbow or face in the scuffle. Vic scoffed as the music on her phone resumed and she let it drop to the side of the pillow, already pawing around for her frozen coke.

Dino watched her fingertips graze the edge, collecting droplets of perspiration. He nudged it slightly further out of reach. 

"Cunt," Vic hissed and Dino laughed as she uncoordinatedly smacked the side of her calf against his head.

Vic gave a heave of great effort and distress as she rolled onto her belly, finally grasping her slushy drink in hand. She took a long slurp before she craned her neck to look at Enzo, only his little tail visible as he dug deeper into the pile of leafy greens.

"I will not be able to bring Enzo out of my pocket for a time," Dino sighed and saw Vic blow disgruntled bubbles into her slushy.

"Yeah," she bit out, keeping whatever loaded rant she had shoved deep away. 

 Dino smiled weakly and took another drink of his cola, a loud, empty slurp that rattled the straw. Then Dino looked around at Vic's room, the cramped desk, the stacked eskys.

 "If you want," Dino started and leant back on a hand, trying to be nonchalant-

 Vic's body pillow didn't take his weight and Dino gave a gurgled yelp as his arm gave way and he fell. His head connected painfully with Vic's bony knees, Vic gave a gasp of pain and Dino clutched his head. 

 Soon, the two of them sat on the bed, two young adults curled up in groaning pain.

 "What the fuck, Dino?" Vic wheezed, holding her knees as they throbbed.

 "Sorry," Dino whined as the beginnings of a headache settled deep in his right temple. "I wanted to ask you if you would like to meet at my house. Enzo cannot meet you outside for a while."

 Vic massaged her knees before she kicked Dino in the side.

 “Fucking oath I am! Thought that was a fucking given!” 

 Dino winced as Vic kicked him in the side again, before, tentatively, Dino lightly thumped his foot against the back of Vic’s thigh. There was a distinct, fleshy ‘thwap’.

 A pause hung in the air, and Dino had the familiar sensation of social-faux-pas-dread settle in the bottom of his stomach—

 Dino heard something akin to an elated warcry from the other end of the bed, and all seventy kilos of Vic’s weight came crashing down on him, twenty-four nuggets and all. Dino wheezed and the two became a brawling wrangle of slapping hands and kicking feet, all up until Vic rolled and kicked Dino off the side of the bed. 

 Dino shrieked and clawed at the sheets until he went tumbling, shoulders-first to the floor. He gasped, splayed out on his back on the dorm’s musty carpet and stared up at Vic’s ceiling, dotted with weird marks.

 Vic’s face appeared from over the edge, a smug, vindictive curl to her grin. 

 “Cunt,” she said.

 Dino grabbed his cup, sloshing with half-melted ice cubes, and grabbed Vic by her beloved oversized band-tee and dumped it. 

 Vic shrieked and Dino couldn’t help the belly-deep cackling that burst out as he watched Vic frantically scoop at her bra under her shirt.

☁ ☁ ☁

 It had taken a bit over ten days and several nervous breakdowns, cushioned by either Enzo or Vic, but Dino felt like he was ready to call for a Family Meeting of the Cavallone. Or, well, he wasn’t seconds away from cardiac arrest at the thought of it, now.

 Dino wheezed a bit. Now, he just needed to get in contact with Romario and set it up.

 Dino reached for his phone. He hadn’t tried to contact home in a while. Between university, Vic, races, and his bi-weekly laying-on-the-floor-in-crisis time, Dino hadn’t had the chance to call home in…nearly six weeks now! Going on seven! They were fresh into April, nearly mid-semester break, and Dino hadn’t called since February.

 This was probably, no, definitely, the longest Dino hadn’t gone without contact with the Cavallone. 

 Seeing Vic listening to her family, had reminded Dino of just how much he missed them. Dino just wondered if anyone would pick up, or if Reborn’s contact-ban was still in place.

 Dino withered and dialled Romario’s quick-dial, and uttered a short prayer. It rang once, twice—

 “Boss!” 

 Dino suddenly understood why Vic had just laid down and listened. He could hear so much through the phone. Familiar songbirds, the chatter of Cavallone stablehands and the bray of horses. Suddenly, Dino was hit with the smell of the stables in early Spring; the fresh sand and straw they laid on the muddy ground, the lavender and wild rosemary that grew outside, the sweat and manure.

 Dino wanted to be like Vic and just curl up on his side and listen. 

 “Boss! How have you been!?” Romario asked and Dino heard the clammer and cacophony of news in the background: the Boss had finally called home.

 God, Dino had missed the sound of Italian; a good Sicilian accent.

 “I’m fine, Romario. I’ve still got all my fingers and toes,” Dino assured with a laugh. “I’ve got some killer tanlines, though.”

 “Good! After your exams you were far too pasty looking!”

 Dino rolled his eyes, this wasn’t the first time Romario had feared a potential vitamin-D deficiency.

 “So, tell me, what have you been up to?” Romario urged, and Din could just imagine him leant up against the gates of the stables in his singlet and jeans.

 Dino relaxed into the couch, Enzo snoozed in his luggage-enclosure. 

 “Class is hard,” Dino admitted, “I’ve gotta use Google translate and listen to lectures twice as long. If I didn’t have Vic to help me, I would have absolutely bombed on the vocabulary mini-test!”

 At some point, the update had turned into Dino’s whinging time - but could you really blame him? For months, Dino had been left to flail alone in this strange country, and he didn’t even have the English skills to vent properly to his one friend—

 “I’ve-!” Dino started loudly, a rush of pride returning when he remembered his shining achievement. “I’ve made a friend!”

 There was a beat of silence, before someone far away gasped, “ What?”

 “I’ve made a friend!” Dino repeated, “Her name’s Vic!”

 “A woman!?”

 “She’s really nice! She loves Enzo! She threw someone in the lake for us! And she bought us chicken nuggets!” 

 Dino grinned as he regaled Romario and their menagerie of eavesdroppers about the many adventures he had been on with Vic around the university and to the nearby shopping centres. 

 Dino decided to omit the part where he got lost in the Kmart homewares section, and had to go to the front desk so they could call for Vic over the announcement system. ‘Attention customers, could 'Vic Hunt' please come to the front of the store to collect your…child?’ was still engraved in Dino’s head, along with the stares from the staff. Vic had all but run through the store to get him. By then, Dino had been offered a snake-shaped lolly, half of which Vic stole, and held his hand the rest of the shop so neither got lost in that department store maze. 

 Instead, Dino moved onto how he and Vic met almost daily to study and chat, and how she liked to listen about the horses — Dino nearly flung himself off the couch when he snapped up, suddenly reminded of what this phone call was about.

 “Romario,” Dino said and heard the excited chatter fall silent at his tone. “I want to call a Family Meeting.”

 Romario’s shift was immediate.

 “What for, Boss?”

Dino could hear him move away from the stable and the working hands.

“I’ve been thinking about the state of the Family and the few resources we have. Being so far from home has, well, it’s given me a new perspective.” Dino said slowly, knowing he was about to broach a sensitive subject. “The Cavallone need to use our horses again. The Cavallone need to race again.”

Romario took a sharp, hissed breath in through his teeth. Racing was taboo.

“Boss,” he began shakily, like some part of him expected the ghost of the Eight Boss to enact vengeance upon them. “The Cavallone have been banned for nearly one hundred years!”

“In Italy,” Dino pointed out, looking down at the list of races all around the world. “And only in Mafia circles.”

“You want to race civilians?” Romario asked, the disbelief clear in his voice. “Our Cavallone horses, against civilians? ”

“Yes,” Dino responded, “Our horses. Our… untrained horses.” Dino suddenly felt that cardiac arrest creeping up again. “We need money. Racing is lucrative.”

He gripped his trousers until his knuckles were white. “Please, Romario.” Dino’s voice was quiet in the empty, dark living room. “I believe this will work. I believe this, our horses, can save our Family.”

Romario was silent.

Dino let him work through his thoughts. He knew he was asking for a lot, and for Romario to stick his neck out for Dino. Romario was the one who would have to act as proxy and call everyone to the Meeting, and in doing so, show complete faith in Dino’s plan.

Romario’s voice came through the speaker. “Very well, Boss. I’ll organise the Meeting. Will tomorrow suit you?”

A relieved smile broke out on Dino's face. “Whenever. We’ll have to work with timezones, anyway.”

“Ten hours, right? I will see what I can do.”

Dino let out a long sigh, feeling nearly lightheaded. “Thank you, Romario.”

“Of course, Boss,” Romario hummed, “Get some rest, it must be late.”

Dino looked at his clock, 2AM. He needed to go to sleep, he had class at 10AM. 

“Boss, you should send us photos now that we can talk again. Is Australia really all just desert and city?”

“What? No, there’s plenty of greenery and water here!” Dino laughed, “But it’s hot. A different hot to home. Vic has been busy making sure I don’t get heat stroke.”

“Sounds nice, it’s still cold here. But by the time you’re home, it’ll be warm. You come at the end of your semester, right? June?”

“Yeah, June to August, Winter break. Vic will be miserable, she loves warmth. Like a lizard.”

Romario laughed and Dino let himself flop across his couch. They had just said Dino should have gone to bed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to hang up. Not after so long without his Family. 

“So your friend, Vic, is she a local?” 

“Yeah, Vic’s from Australia,” Dino hummed, and grabbed a pillow to cuddle, sleep beginning to press against the back of his eyes. “She says she was born around here, actually. But her family has moved to, uh, Castle-something. Has a new baby cousin she wants to see.”

“And you said she’s been keeping you alive,” Romario chuckled and Dino gave some kind of senseless whine of indignation.

“Only- Kinda, yeah, but like, leave me alone maybe?” Dino grumbled, before rolling over on the couch, “How’s everyone at home doing?”

Dino cuddled into the throw pillow and listened as Romario recited the usual reports on the comings and goings of the Cavallone estate. It was the usual chaos, with a bit of a curve ball thrown in with the Boss away. But Romario, as usual, managed to wrangle everything under control, especially with the Stable Master acting as the Cavallone regent. 

They were still receiving their local import of barley and hay at a steady pace, and the farmers had offered a ‘loyalty perk’ after generations of working together. Dino nearly teared up as he heard how they had reduced their prices by 10%. He made sure to make Romario write down the family name of every farmer, the Cavallone would always be loyal to them. 

The Ninth’s Guardians were still responding to messages, but only enough to assure that they weren’t dead. Even then, only Croix was handling correspondence. Really, the only evidence that the rest of the Guardians were still around was Croix’s word and the Cavallone delivery boys that dropped off supplies to them. Getting them out to the Family Meeting was probably going to be the hardest, they hardly left the Ranch anymore.

Dino frowned and clutched his pillow. He had been worried about his uncles. Losing a Sky was never easy, and Guardians could only outlive their Harmony with so much grace.

One of the younger Cavallone wards had finally been able to manifest a Flame expression. Though, it was scratching some heads with its Frequency. It was probably just a weird expression, maybe some kind of strong Secondary coming through. They hoped the kid settled down soon, it was causing their carers concern. 

Well that was concerning, Dino hummed and sleepily instructed that the child would be put under watch. 

Brutus got bit on the ass by a mule that morning. It was his own fault, he should have known better than to be off-guard in the presence of one of the biters. The Stablehands had a good laugh out of it and everyone had a good look at the pattern on his boxers. 

Dino snorted and relaxed, listening as the accounts became less and less important, Romario’s reports devolving into mindless updates on the little things Dino missed around the place in the time he was gone. He closed his eyes and opened his ears to the sound of Romario and that far off island of Sicily he so missed.

The next morning, Dino received the notification for the Family Meeting’s appointed time: 8PM. 10AM on the Italian’s side.

He spent the time between classes preparing, making notes, practising his delivery. Anything to get rid of the shake in his knees and the quiver in his voice. Vic had noticed and had offered Dino a sympathetic hiss when she had heard the abridged summary.

“Hey,” she said, giving Dino a gentle shove with her elbow. “If you want, I’ll drop by after the call? We can hang out, get some food?”

Then she had bought him something sweet from the student cafe to perk him up before they parted ways. Dino was always grateful that he managed to make a friend all the way out here.

Dino nibbled on the frankly monstrously-sized cookie as he went about setting up his computer and space, trying to hold his treat in a way that wouldn’t melt the choc chips. He moved a bag of takeaway wrappers out from behind his couch and finally made the trip to the bin, taking a few wrappers and packages of assorted socks. 

He fluffed the couch’s throw pillows and quickly brought that random, dying succulent to the back porch. He was in the middle of gently encouraging the fake Monstera plant to sit right when the chime for the meeting rang out. 

Dino gasped and vaulted for the couch, completely overshooting it and slamming face-first into the narrow space between the couch and coffee table.

“Good to see the boy hasn’t changed.”

Dino’s face went red and he began his squirming crawl to try and get his feet out of the air and back under him. 

“I thought you gave up trying to do handstands when you were little Dino!” Came that teasing, smoker-rough voice and Dino finally flipped himself right-side up.

“I wasn’t trying to do a handstand, Uncle Croix!”

The Rain Guardian to the late Ninth Cavallone and Dino’s Uncle in every sense but blood grinned at him through the screen. He was a jovial man that was going well grey, with a short-boxed beard lining framing his jaw and crows feet pinching the corners of his eyes. 

“Young Romario tells me you’ve been good and roasted down there in Australia! Remember to keep away from the sun, or you’ll end up looking like Anvil, all patchy and leather skinned!” Croix powered on and Dino resisted the urge to sink into his chair, knowing that once Croix was rolling, nothing short of an all out gunfight could stop him.

“Let the boy talk, Croy,” the Stablemaster groused, and Dino looked to the second panel where the rest of the Meeting’s attendants sat.

The Stablemaster, the Vault Keeper, the Head of Housekeeping, and Romario all sat around the one board table they had left, and were turned in their seats to face him. The Vault Keeper sat there, nearly unmoving. If it weren’t for the rest of the room, Dino would have thought the camera was frozen.

Dino started to sweat. The last time he had seen all these faces at once, his father had been a cooling body in the next room. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Boss, we can begin,” Romario urged, and Dino snapped to attention.

“Right,” he said, and looked at his notes just to the side of the computer, written on a little notepad. 

Vic at some point had drawn a small dick on the corner of the first hundred or so pages. Up until literally just now, Dino had thought it was a lop-sided heart. 

Dino let out a short snort. He took a breath, and with Vic’s supportive presence in the form of a collection of penned dicks, he began.

“I believe it is safe to say that we are all aware of the state of the Cavallone,” there was a grumble of consensus. “We are sinking, with the last of our furniture reaching their final bid, we have no way of keeping up with the debt.”

Romario winced, and the Stablemater frowned. Croix didn’t utter a sound, and watched through the screen with a solemn expression. 

“At the rate we are going, our Cavallone will succumb to debt and be bankrupt within five years.” Five years. Dino would barely be twenty-three. “We need a way to stop this, our Family, from falling apart.” 

Dino glanced at each face on his screen, “We need to race again.”

The Head of Housekeeping went pale. Croix shifted back in his chair, and the Stablemaster’s expression became utterly stormy. 

Romario looked at Dino through the camera and nodded, as if to say, “go on.”

Dino pushed on, referring to his notes, and those little dicks, whenever he felt his resolve waver. He recalled the great success Cavallone horses flaunted during their golden age, referenced the sheer profits the Family had turned from racing, and how the Cavallone could enjoy the same today. Dino highlighted articles, winning and race purses, and the prestige that came with it. He pointed out budgeting, and plans, and week's worth of fervent research and study. 

Dino pushed that all of this was within grasp. Outside of the thin borders of Italy. Outside of the influence of the Mafia. That the Cavallone’s retribution was there for the taking if they just reached for it.

Faces were grim. 

The Vaultkeeper had turned her head away.

The Head of Housekeeping smiled like he was in pain. He probably was. He had been young, but he had been there during the reign of the Eighth. He had been there to watch him break.

“You want us to race?” The Stablemaster asked, gravel in his tone. “You want us to gamble away the last of the money keeping us afloat?”

Dino took a breath, “That money is time we bought ourselves by selling our history. Do you know what the other Families call us? A Family selling off their pride.”

“Pride will not pay out our debts-”

“In a starving house, pride is all we have left,” Dino rebutted, “Pride, and spite, and a vindictive Will to live. Is this not all we have left to heat our halls and till our fields, and feed our horses — who sit stagnant in their stables, because of men who were too weak to beat us!”

Dino sat straight, his shoulders squared and seethed.

“Since I was born, I have only heard smuggled whispers of the glory of the Cavallone horses. Our trophies sit in dusty, moulding boxes! Instead of taking us on fairly with dignity, they hide behind one another and slash at our ankles! Our right to race was just the tipping point, our trade with merchants and businesses have been undercut by the same hands! How long do we intend to cower at the echoes of the Eighth’s tantrums, and the descendants of tiny men!?”  

The Stablemaster, everyone, had sat up at Dino’s tone, the furrow of his brow, the square of his shoulders. The Vault Keeper turned to Dino slowly.

Dino unclenched his jaw and breathed, long and slow, out through his nose. 

“I know I’ve only been Don for not even a full year, and I know I am asking for more trust than I may deserve. But I believe that our horses are our key to survival. I am willing to bet on it.”

The Stablemaster narrowed his eyes, “What are you betting?”

Dino smiled.

“What is the Cavallone if not my life and head?” 

Croix sat up sharply, “Dino!”

“If the Cavallone fail to pay off their debts, our ‘benefactors’ will expect to be paid in blood,” Dino frowned, “At least this way, you all can renounce the Cavallone name.”

“Like absolute hell would we let you take the fall!” Croix boomed, peeking his laptop’s microphone and leaving a static buzz. 

Romario stood from his chair, “I cannot agree to those terms! Even if the Cavallone falls, I will not leave you, Boss.”

“Unless you have some secret Cavallone blood in your veins, you won’t be much of a prize,” Dino huffed, “But thank you.”

“Okay, I’m in,” the Stablemaster said, and Romario’s head snapped around.

“You can’t be serious! On those terms!?” 

“No, dumbass, those terms are utter horseshit, but he’s proved his conviction. So I’ll bite,” the Stablemaster, the man who called all the final shots on the horses of the Cavallone and the only one who could undermine the Don, turned to look at Dino. “The Cavallone will go down kicking.”

The Vault Keeper turned her hooded head to Dino and said in a voice all raspy and old as ash, “Little Dino, we will never leave you to pay for the mistakes we did not help avoid. Do not say as much again.”

It was cold and scolding, like the distant aunt the Cavallone Vault Keeper was. The Keeper of the Cavallone’s treasures and secrets. She would have never left her station. 

“Right,” Dino smiled, feeling warm to the core. “I meant no insult. But my argument still stands.”

The Vault Keeper looked to the Stablemaster, Head of Housekeeping and Romario. Croix sat silent in his chair. 

“I’ve already said my stance,” the Stablemaster shrugged, “I’m in. The boy Boss knows what he wants, and he wants to race. So long as the horses are safe, I’m happy to let them out of their stables.”

Romario huffed as he dropped back into his chair, fixing his suit jacket, “I support the Boss’ plan to race.”

“It’s a risk,” the Head of Housekeeping said softly, “Keeping up the salaries of the house’s staff will be difficult.”

“Of course, we’ll cut back where we can to keep them paid,” Dino assured, and the man nodded. Dino had always made sure their staff was paid, it was one of the highest priorities. “I’m sure there are some functions on the estate that can be put on hold. Please, make a list of what you think can be done without, and we’ll work through cutting it.”

“...Very well,” he said, slightly ashen.

Dino gazed upon the man who had taught him to button his shirts, and cleaned up after him every time clumsy little Dino made a mess.

“When you get the chance, please, get those trophies out from the attic. They shouldn’t be hidden, let them be on display again, as they should be.”

The Head of Housekeeping blinked at Dino, before he smiled, his grey, wrinkled face softening.

“As you wish, Boss.”

The Vault Keeper sat still again, utterly unmoving. Then she sighed, nearly slumped over as she bowed under the weight of her decision.

“Little Dino, I hope you know what you’re getting us into. I never wanted you to become a gambler.”

“Just this once, I promise,” Dino smiled, “And a few more times after we win.”

‘After’. When, not if.

The Vault Keeper scoffed at Dino. 

Then everyone turned their attention to the last man yet to speak: Croix, the Ninth Rain Guardian and representative of all the Cavallone Guardians. He sat there, seemingly staring through the screen and far away. 

Dino clenched his fists on his knees out of frame of the camera. He hated seeing his zio like this. Guardians could only outlive their Harmony with so much grace.

“Uncle Croix?” Dino urged gently. 

Croix’s clouded eyes lit up with awareness as he came back to himself. He glanced around the screen, taking in those faces that were looking at him expectantly. Dino smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring.

“Whatever you want to do, Dino, your uncles will support you,” Croix said, “I’ve never seen a Cavallone horse race, either. We are long overdue — just, don’t make betting your life a habit.”

Dino grinned sheepishly, and his heart felt bright. 

“That said,” the Stablemaster interjected, and something in his tone made Dino’s stomach tighten. “If we’re going to do this, we do it properly, Boss.”

Dino nodded, “Of course, I don’t plan to do this half-cocked. As you allow, I’d like to use our best-performing horses.”

The best of the Cavallone’s prized herd. Their fastest, their most enduring. 

The Stablemaster crossed his arms, lined with hair and thin scars. 

“Then you’ll be asking for Glory.”

Dino’s smile went thin. He nodded.

“Yes, Glory is at the top of the list. She is our best horse.”

Romario glanced at Dino.

Croix lowered his eyes to his lap, his face carefully blank. Every breath he took was slow and measured.

“Understand me, Dino Cavallone, if you allow anything to happen, or treat her anyway less than she deserves, I will withdraw my support immediately,” the Stablemaster promised, his voice laced with warning.

Dino swallowed thickly. If the Stablemaster pulled out, everything Dino had worked for would come undone within hours. As soon as the Stablemaster called for it, every Cavallone horse would come home.

All for Glory.

For a moment, Dino remembered the thundering of hooves, the frantic screams, a sick bed, the stinging scent of antiseptic. 

An empty bed, the sheets clean and pressed flat. The room utterly still.

Dino let out a long breath, and pushed aside those thoughts and the burn in the back of his throat. 

“Of course, Stablemaster,” Dino said solemnly, purposefully. “I assure you, Glory will be safe and treated with the best care we can afford our horses moving forward.”

The Stablemaster stared at Dino, scrutinising him down to the bone. Then he nodded, one stiff, sure nod.

“On your head, Boss,” he said.

“On my head,” Dino agreed softly.

No one in the room spoke, the silence stretching and strangeling everyone on the call. Dino shook his head and sat up to address the Head of Housekeeping.

“Please organise that list on the estate budget cuts, and send it to me as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Boss,” the elderly man said.

“Vault Keeper, please keep an eye on our finances throughout. Alert us immediately if you notice something awry. We can’t allow for mistakes.”

“Very well,” she responded.

“Stablemaster, please compile a list of our best horses, and everything you believe they will need during and after transport.”

“It’ll be extensive, they're picky bastards.”

“I’m sure we can handle it,” Dino assured, “Romario, you will be my proxy, as always. Please help where you can and keep things running smoothly. We cannot let the other Families get wind of this.”

“Of course, Boss,” Romario nodded, and Dino nearly wheezed in relief. 

Where would he be without Romario? 

Then Dino looked to Croix, who sat watching the flurry with a look of… Nostalgia. Pride. Pain.

“Uncle Croix,” Dino said, and the man sat to attention like all those times the Ninth had called upon him. “Please watch out for yourself and my other uncles. I want you all in good health when we hold a Cavallone-style celebration.”

Croix blinked. Then he let out a booming laugh that Dino had heard throughout his childhood.

“Right! Right! Gotta get these beer bellies fitting back in their suits! Give us some time, won’t you, Dino? Don’t go winning too fast?”

“Bah, you’ll need to cut more than the beer to get back into your suits! Dino, you should budget their cheese, too!” The Stablemaster heckled, and Croix gasped hard enough to choke. 

“My cheese is lite!”

“Light in colour maybe! I’ve seen you scarf that down!”

Dino laughed as Croix vehemently defended his ‘sampling’ of the local delicacies. 

“It puts money back into the local economy!”

“But Croix,” the Head of Housekeeping uttered, a concerned and amused pinch to his brow that spoke of the years he had spent herding Croix and his fellow Set when they were just young men. “Didn’t you develop an intolerance to lactose recently? The doctor said as much.”

Croix thinned his lips and refused to respond. 

The Meeting wound to a close, and everyone had their orders. 

The Cavallone horses would race again, under the crest of their Tenth Generation.

Dino closed his laptop with a weary and utterly stressed sigh. He slumped back into his couch and scratched his nails through his hair. 

He had done it. The first Family Meeting as Don, and he had actually done it! He had convinced the Family to go along with this stupid, ride-or-die plan! Jesus Christ, Dino needed a drink. He was craving Pepsi, the kind he had drunk with Vic.

A steady thump, thump, thump sounded through the walls, the bass beat made the floors vibrate. Dino glanced to his windows — one of his neighbours had a party going. 

The clock on Dino’s phone glared that it was nearly 10PM. Dino yawned and stood from his divot in the couch, scanning the floor for where Enzo had crawled off to. Then he heard it.

A soft ‘clink, chunk’ and repeat. 

Dino listened to the jangle and crunch, and let out a soft groan of, “Enzo, why me? I wanna go to sleep so badly!”

Enzo peered from around the bedroom doorway with a soft wheeze. Dino picked his phone from the table and typed up a text to Romario, taking a drink from his cup as he did. Someone was trying to break into Dino’s dormhouse.

Dino put aside his glass and scooped Enzo up off the floor as he made his way back to his bedroom, turning off the lights as he did. He closed his bedroom door and felt the faintest clunk as the latch fell into place and a jimmy-rigged security system swung into activity. 

Dino had been tutored by Reborn, after all. He had to learn something from the PTSD.

Dino followed his bedtime routine. He changed into some light pyjamas, washed his slightly sweaty face, brushed his teeth and crawled into bed, Enzo cuddled up against his chest. Right over the heart.

Dino closed his eyes, let out a long breath and listened. The crunch of dried gum leaves out near the back porch. The metallic groan as someone mounted the porch railing. The soft, muffled crack of glass. 

Dino continued to breathe, slow and unhurried. He needed his would-be hitman deeper in his house. Dino clutched the handle of his whip, coiled under the blankets with him.

Footsteps over the tile, and disappeared on the rug. Breath outside the bedroom door.

All Dino’s interior doors opened inwards. Dino had to wait.

The door unlatched. The person peered in through a crack. The tip of Dino’s whip caught them in the eye. 

Dino untangled himself from his sheets, watching the man stumble back, clutching his face. Dino almost sympathised with the guy, he had been whipped in the eye more times than he — or Romario — could count.

The would-be assailant stumbled blindly, before giving a sharp gasp as he felt a tug at his clothes. Dino had learnt much from Reborn, and from personal experience, nothing threw someone off like having the threat of indecent exposure during an otherwise serious situation. 

The man fumbled with his shredding pants, hooks and wires ripping and peeling at his suit, eyes red and watering.

Dino stood — and promptly planted his face into the hard weave of the floor rug. Dino groaned. He should have known this was going too well. He heaved himself to his feet, cradling his carpet-burnt nose. 

The man pulled himself free from the last of the hooks, cameo-print briefs on display and belt clinging to the last scraps of a waistband. 

Dino reeled his whip back and lashed it across the man’s bared thigh. It didn’t wrap around like Dino had hoped, but it made the man buckle to the floor with a muted gasp again. 

He was being quiet. Being careful not to alert Dino’s neighbours. But the beat and thump of music from a few doors down told Dino that the majority of his neighbours were either too busy partying away the last hours of a Friday night, or trying to drown it out, to notice.

Better for him, honestly. The crack of a whip wasn’t exactly covert.

The man hissed between his teeth and pulled his weapon of choice from his pocket. Wire glinted and strained in his leather-gloved hands. He lunged, wire tight and Rino pulled his whip across his face. 

He could hear the wire pluck at the leather of his whip, but it never bit through. Something birthed from Leon would never buckle that easily. 

Dino gritted his teeth and kicked at the man’s knees. He went down with a sickening crack and his knees bowing like a bird’s. 

The hitman threw something at Dino from the floor, and Dino swallowed a cry as some kind of powder, hot and irritating, coated his face. Dino pressed his lips and eyes shut, and didn’t dare to breathe, wiping his face with his shirt. Dino fumbled and kicked as he felt hands and wire reach for his ankles.

His face burnt, and Dino tasted something acrid and bitter on the tip of his tongue. Every one of his senses begged Dino to get it off, wash it off, do something.

Dino scrubbed at his lips and around his nose, desperate to breathe again. He charged forward, palming at the walls and feeling the way to the bathroom. Something pulled at Dino’s ankles, the sound of wire pulled taut and a small, sharp pain was his only warning before Dino went toppling into the living room. 

His shoulder crashed into the coffee table and the cup Dino had left to ‘future him’ tipped over and splashed directly into his face. Dino sputtered and spat, before finally taking a sweet, lungful of air. He could still taste the remnants of that powder, but he could breathe. Dino palmed at the tabletop and wiped his face with the pooled water. 

He peered an eye open, and immediately felt the tear-inducing burn. He gritted his teeth and bore it as the blurry figure of his hitman crawled its way towards Dino. 

Dino scrambled to his feet and grabbed his whip. 

The man lunged, sprung from his one good leg. He caught Dino around the middle and the two crashed into the wall console, the dying pot plant dropped and shattered on the carpet. 

Dino struggled as the man tried to press his wire against Dino’s throat. Dino kicked his knee again and felt the bone move under his toes. The man reeled back, mouth agape in a silent scream.

Dino wrapped his whip around the man’s throat and yanked tight.