#vomit for ts

[ruler-of-the-universe-boy]

People who give yhs grian wings for only angst are doing it wrong you gotta do this /j

[justanaspiringsomeone]

About Vere…

He fascinates me, specifically what we know in his profile.

His dislikes is rules and puzzles but his fatal flaw is being power hungry no matter what.

It makes me wonder if he's as smart as he lets on.

Hear me out.

Now don't get me wrong, Vere is very good with people. It's how he toys with them, gets information to use for himself, etc. etc.

he plays games with people. This can make him cocky and flippant when he's serious but no one takes him seriously.

but with this in mind... I kind of wonder if Kuras tried 'testing' Vere back in the day, which resulted in his imprisonment. Had Vere not gone for whatever was placed out for him, or thought better than to believe he was the hotshot, he might've been free still.

Alternatively, if not a test from Kuras.... What if something happened that regardless whether Vere is freed he might not be at full power anymore from the Senobium.

His utter disregard for rules and, therefore, safety. Cost Vere his freedom and it's not impossible if his power isn't what it used to be.

The highs of the reward overpowered the risk in his eyes.

[triangle-strategy-notes]

what do you think happens with Avlora in the non conviction endings?

Words cannot describe how excited I got when I saw this ask!! I think SO MUCH about what Avlora does in all of the different endings hahaha. Thanks for the question! <3

In general, my personal thoughts are that the Liberty/Benedict ending would eventually play out similarly to the Golden/Serenoa ending, Morality/Frederica would involve Avlora getting involved in Svarog's civil war, and Utility/Roland would probably have Avlora considering a rebellion of some type for a while but ultimately putting her sword away to focus on rebuilding the Aesfrosti community.

But if you're interested in more details/reasoning, I wrote up some of that as well! Don't worry about the readmore I wrote a normal amount about it :) it's a normal amount I promise. I only wrote a normal amount. I promise it's just a norma

Liberty/Benedict Ending

With Liberty ending, tbh I feel like story-wise it really feels weird that Avlora doesn't come back, given how it's essentially the Golden/Serenoa route except Aesfrost and Glenbrook are on good terms, which seems like it'd be a point in Avlora's favor.

But as far as looking at her reasons for staying away, here are a few possibilities:

— She didn't feel Cordelia needed her as badly since Glenbrook was now fighting a war on only one front (vs. the three in the Golden/Serenoa route) and she wasn't willing to risk her life by returning to face Glenbrook's judgment.

— She felt betrayed/demoralized by how Cordelia handed over her throne and went along with the whole alliance to Gustadolph. (Some reasoning along the lines of "Why exactly was I risking my life to stage a coup d'etat if Cordelia was just going to hand her power over as soon as things got inconvenient?")

— She didn't trust Serenoa and Benedict after they suddenly usurped Roland and allied with Aesfrost. She also canonically isn't a fan of Benedict's morals to begin with, so there's that.

— Or, (most likely explanation in my mind) she saw that Glenbrook was trying to secure an alliance with Aesfrost and felt that publicly swearing fealty to Cordelia would aggravate tensions between the two.

Depending on what you think her reasons were, there are a lot of different explanations for what she's up to during the time period between the Chapter 17 decision and the end of the game. Theoretically she might just be hiding out somewhere, or if you want to imagine her doing something more interesting it's possible that she'd quietly reach out to Cordelia and/or would try to track down Roland in order to make sure he's safe for Cordelia's sake.

Either way, I do think Avlora would eventually come around and rejoin Glenbrook once the war cools down and the alliance becomes less strategically important.

Benedict's treatment of Cordelia does kinda suck, and I think Avlora's worry for her would outweigh any other doubts she might have. Roland's absence from the castle would probably make the decision easier too, since Avlora a) doesn't have to worry about Roland's grudge against her and b) knows that Cordelia doesn't have Roland to protect her.

Morality/Frederica Ending

I like thinking about this one a lot :) I take a lot of my headcanons from Little Queen of All Things Forsaken on Ao3. I don't want to spoil the fic a ton for anyone who hasn't read it and wants to, but the basic premise centers around the question of "what if Cordelia stayed behind to rule Glenbrook when Roland and everyone else ran off to Centralia?" Which if that's the case, I would definitely assume Avlora would eventually decide to return and serve at Cordelia's side.

I'd imagine Avlora would essentially become the Dawnspear of Cordelia's reign, where she serves as both a political figure and the head of Cordelia's Kingsguard.

(^^ also this conversation would be really funny to me in the context of her literally taking his job)

BUT, if we're assuming Cordelia is recruited and goes along to Centralia with everyone, I think Avlora would wander around for a long while trying to figure out what she should do. Tracking down where Cordelia went is technically an option, but Avlora was never directly informed about Centralia. To add to that, rumors for sure would slowly filter in from Hyzante about the explosion that killed Idore, and it'd be easy to assume others died in the blast as well.

And even if Cordelia did manage to survive the escape, how much time is Avlora willing to spend looking? How far might the Roselle have fled? Since Avlora's not currently serving as Aesfrost's general, she doesn't have a boat, or supplies, or really any resources whatsoever. Is she really willing to throw her life away to search for someone who might very well already be dead?

I think eventually she'd catch wind of Svarog starting a civil war against Gustadolph and would join Svarog in that effort. Given Benedict serving as an advisor to Gustadolph, it seems possible-to-likely she'd lose the fight like she lost against Wolffort, and at that point would either be killed or would run off again and just try to live a normal life somewhere.

Or maybe she'd finally go "welp. guess I've officially got nothing to lose!" and go try and track down Cordelia. Another fic I really love is somewhere, beyond the sea which is Serenoa/Frederica-focused but also has a really cool bit about Avlora coming to Centralia.

Utility/Roland Ending

I think Avlora would be absolutely horrified at what Glenbrook + Hyzante do to Aesfrost. Like her entire nation is just. Gone. She was willing to oust Gustadolph, willing to join Cordelia, willing to take up a sword against people she once knew and worked with, but I don't think she ever expected the consequences to be the literal destruction of Aesfrost in its entirety.

The image of Avlora (or really ANY Aesfrosti) going back to Ironstone and finding the entire city buried beneath an impenetrable layer of blackened slag is haunting.

And given the history of conflict between Hyzante and Aesfrost, watching Hyzante take over all of Norzelia has gotta be. a whole thing for Avlora. However she felt about the Saintly Seven before, she definitely hates them now. I also can't see her ever wanting to associate again with Roland or Serenoa after hearing about their role in what happened.

(Though honestly I think the person she'd be the most furious toward would be Svarog. His duty, like hers, was to protect Aesfrost, and instead he completely destroyed what little they might have had left.)

I feel like she'd spend a good while thinking about revenge against Hyzante in a "as the last semblance of anything like a leader that Aesfrost has, I'm obligated to avenge that which was destroyed" type of way. Possibly even to the point of actually trying to put together a resistance. But with the way Hyzante crushes people's spirits and manipulates resources to encourage 100% obedience, I feel like she would really struggle to gain ground in that respect.

You could also imagine that she runs into Frederica at some point in all this, since both of them would likely be on the outskirts of society and/or wanted criminals. I don't know for sure whether I could see them fully joining forces (mostly just think they'd butt heads over specific goals and methods for fighting back against Hyzante), but they'd for sure have a lot to talk about.

As far as Cordelia goes, I think Avlora wouldn't really want to blame her for everything that happened. Like Avlora would be aware that Cordelia wasn't innocent in it, but on some level I think she would just sort of mentally go "it cannot be Cordelia's fault because if it was her fault then it was also my fault. We were both just following orders. We were both doing what our nations demanded of us." And also I think she likely would consider Cordelia to be the closest thing to a friend she has left, and as a result would have a hard time giving that relationship up.

Their dynamic in the Wolffort Wedding extra story cracks me up and I also think it would be in-character for Cordelia to hunt Avlora down as soon as she hears rumors that Avlora is still alive. If that happens then I wholeheartedly believe Cordelia would take one look at Avlora (wearing the same clothing she had on when she fell into the Norzelia River more than a year ago) (hasn't eaten in a week because she's avoiding the Hyzantian ration handouts and won't accept any from other displaced Aesfrosti) (generally stressed out of her mind and regularly daydreams about throwing her life away on an assassination attempt on Idore) and Cordelia would just go "okay yeah no I'm going to nurse you back to health and you're going to like it."

Roland would probably catch onto this at some point and I do imagine he'd try to attack or otherwise apprehend Avlora (he might feel a little bad about it because Cordelia obviously cares about her, but he's also tied himself inexorably to Hyzante at this point and not apprehending the last bastion of the Aesfrosti army would go against everything he's committed himself to). But assuming Cordelia's a little older and has had time to recover from the war, I think she'd put up a fight to the point that he'd back off and turn a blind eye to Avlora so long as she doesn't try anything too aggressive.

Getting deeper into "this is just me writing fanfiction" territory, I'm a sucker for "veteran gets to lay down their sword" arcs and I think it'd be nice to see Avlora eventually distance herself from plans of revenge and instead focus her energy on supporting the remaining people of Aesfrost as a sort of community leader, possibly with Cordelia's help.

I also really love the idea that Avlora would run an orphanage at some point. Working with orphans would be a good way of satisfying Avlora's desire to protect those who are otherwise alone, and it's also just funny/sweet to imagine General "There is nothing more agonizing than a child glaring at you through tears" Avlora trying to, for example, get a three-year-old to do something they don't want to do. Her personality and values as a character lend to her being a pretty big pushover with kids while simultaneously not having any frame of reference for "how to gently coax a child to do something" and I think it'd be a good and humbling experience for her :)

[lunar-years]

I’m gonna be honest it is really hard to feel sympathy for people on Twitter complaining about how the people around them “ruined” their eras experience by like, saying something stupid in the background of one of their concert videos or something when I remember that a mom directly behind me got so drunk before the show she vomited during the OPENING ACTS and my pregnant SIL and I had to smell it for the entire 3.5hr show

[cavalrysystem]

[edupunkn00b]

Overruled, Chapter 2: Obfuscated

Prev - Obfuscated - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Written for @loceitweek, Day 2: Masks - WC: 1498 - Rated: T - Alcohol, swearing, mentions of non-consensual drugging, vomiting/nausea ---

Everything hurt.

Janus blinked against the sunbeam targeting his face, lids sandpaper against his eyes. He turned his head and sharp, hot pain shot up his shoulder and neck before radiating out through his back and limbs. “Fuck.” He couldn’t get more than a croak past his dry throat. Even his tongue and teeth hurt, his mouth swollen, arid, and foul.

“Excellent…” The quiet voice rattled through his skull and he winced. “You are awake.”

“Either that or dead,” he muttered, eyes now squeezed shut.

Bare feet slapped against the hardwood floor past him and, after a clattering racket, the red glow bleeding through his eyelids faded. “Any better?” the voice said, even quieter this time.

Janus grunted and pried his head and shoulders up off the sinking soft surface he was lying on. He fell back almost immediately, a fresh ache exploding in his head as the room spun and his stomach flipped. “Sick—” he managed before he turned and heaved up the scant contents of his stomach. There was rushed movement near him and firm hands turned him to his side.

“Get it out,” the voice muttered near his ear. “That’s it, right in the bucket… you’ll feel better.”

When he finally stopped, something cool and wet was pressed to forehead and another dabbed at his mouth, his face, his neck. Janus cracked one eye open and spotted a colorful flash of floral brocade tucked under a dark blue apron.

“Necktie,” he groaned.

“So you do remember where you are,” Logan murmured. The cloth moved away, followed by the swish of water, then soon returned, cool and soothing.

He reached out blindly, brushing against the prim knot at the other man’s neck. “It's Seattle. You’re the only man our age who owns one of these,” he said, wincing at the deafening volume of his own voice. “Let alone actually wears the damn thing.”

Logan chuckled, low and quiet. The sound rumbled through his chest where Janus belatedly realized he’d been leaning. His brain told him to sit up all the way, but his body wouldn’t listen, and his head bobbed ineffectually against Logan’s shoulder. “Take it slow,” he said, shifting until Janus’ head was pillowed against muscle instead of the sharp corner where clavicle met shoulder bone. 

The cloth moved to his neck, the light pressure easing the knotted muscle he’d woken up with, and he couldn’t help a low sigh. His hand flopped to his other side, rubbing the upholstery next to him.

Janus frowned. “This isn’t my couch.” He peered through narrowed eyes, ignoring the renewed pounding in his head. “Where am I?”

“My apartment,” Logan said after a moment. “You were… unwell last night at the party. You told me you lived a mile from campus and I asked you if I could bring you here.” His movements slowed and he set the cloth aside. Janus eyed it, already missing the soft touch. “You said it was—”

“Better than fucking in the elevator,” he finished, a flash of last night filling his mind.

“Well, yes.” Logan cleared his throat, a bubble of a mirth behind his words. “I was about to paraphrase that you thought it was wise.” He picked up the cloth again and resumed dabbing against his skin. “We can both be right.”

Janus barked out a half-laugh then winced. “Oh, don’t make me laugh!”

“I shall endeavor to be as boring as possible, then.”

True to his promise, Logan fell silent, moving only to refresh the cloth once it became warm.

Dread churned in his gut until he feared he’d be sick again. Finally, he asked, “What happened?”

“I will tell you everything I know, however I do not wish to impact your memory with my own perception,” Logan said slowly. “What do you remember?”

I remember watching the door, waiting for you to arrive.

“I was at Jack’s… I had a few drinks…” He chuckled, the movement rattling his brain against his skull. He breathed into the pain and nodded. Slowly. “I’d picked which guy I’d take home if you didn’t show.”

He smirked, one eyebrow a perfect arch over those damned glasses. “You were that certain I’d go home with you?” He wet the cloth and wrung it out again. “I could’ve been there to pick up your friend.”

“Ow,” he laughed and groaned at the same time. “What did I say about making me laugh, Necktie?”

Chuckling quietly, Logan reached for a small bottle of water and opened it in front of him. “Slow sips,” he said, pressing it into his hands. “It will help with the headache.”

He followed Logan’s instructions, annoyed he was right. “You gave me water,” he said suddenly, staring down at the bottle. Logan remained silent, but after a while Janus shook his head. “I… I don’t remember much else. Fuzzy thoughts…”

The hand holding the bottle shook and Logan took it from him. “You were unconscious when I arrived.” His lips tightened into a thin line and his brow furrowed, annoyance or perhaps concern darkening his steely blue eyes.

His pupils had shrunk.

Fear.

“I was able to wake you and you told me you’d had four…” Logan shook his head and inhaled slowly. “You were far more impaired than someone who’d had four bourbons over a few hours. I… offered to bring you home and as we were leaving… A man, one of the other guests, accosted us.”

Logan turned his head and looked closely at him, that same strange mix of emotions flitting over his face, like he couldn’t pick which one. “I believe he drugged you. He… he tried to stop us from leaving.” A smile sparkled across his face. “You fought back. Half conscious, and knocked over, you still managed to take him down and pin him to the floor.”

“Hmph,” he grunted, rotating his shoulder. “That explains this.”

“Are you in pain?” Logan turned again and scanned him with those laser eyes. “I mean…”

“Nothing a hot shower and some stretches won’t solve.”

“You are welcome to…” He gestured half-heartedly toward one of the doors in the hallway. “Of course, if you would not prefer your own shower.” 

Janus nodded, letting where he would shower be a problem for the future. Even this short conversation drained him and it was a struggle not to let his full weight rest against Logan’s side. His apron smelled like coffee grounds and cinnamon. He wondered if his nursemaid would allow him a cup of coffee.

The thought alone was enough to turn his stomach and he closed his eyes. The unease didn't fade and the flashes from his dreams grew brighter. “Did I… did I say anything else last night?” he asked. His fingers scrunched against the plush sofa cushion, hand empty. He’d dreamt… Janus opened his eyes with a little sigh. He’d dreamt his hand had not been empty.

“There was some… flirting,” Logan said carefully. “No more than one might anticipate given the circumstances.”

“Nothing…” There'd been music, different music that from that fucking party. Soft. A peaceful rumble. Logan’s voice. “Nothing else?”

He shifted next to him and pressed the water bottle into his hands. Logan watched silently as he sipped. “You…” he murmured when Janus lowered the bottle. “You dreamt. And… spoke a little in your sleep.”

His name sat on Janus’ tongue, heavy and sweet. He hadn’t said it in so long. “Anything stand out?” he asked, desperate to hear anything but the answer he knew Logan would give.

“You called me Gabe.” 

Janus couldn’t hide the hitch in his breathing but Logan didn’t ask him to explain, didn’t ask him if he was alright. If he’d said anything about Gabe… Logan would know he wasn’t.

Logan sat quietly with him until the room stopped spinning long enough for him to lean against the back rest. “I recognize food may be the last on your priorities at the moment…” He frowned, peering closely at his eyes as he avoided his gaze. Logan then picked up his hand and pressed the nail bed on each finger, watching intently. “But you are dehydrated and likely your electrolytes are unbalanced, as well.” 

Janus’ hand was still resting in his and he stared down at it for a moment before slowly letting it rest on his lap.

“If you will allow me to prepare something for you…” He began to gather a bowl and tissues from the table.

“Before you—” Janus began, watching him work. “The—the cloth was…” 

Logan looked down at the cotton cloth in his hand, then nodded. He dipped it in the water and wrung it out. He smiled, a soft, gentle smile, nothing like the little smirk from before or his failed attempt to hide a laugh. Just… soft. "Forehead?"

Janus nodded once. “Thank you,” he murmured and averted his eyes as Logan carefully laid the cloth against his skin.

“It’s my pleasure, Janus,” he whispered. Janus closed his eyes, afraid the rest of his mask might crumble under the weight of that smile if looked at it for much longer. “I will return with some ginger tea and crackers. Some broth.” Logan said after a long moment. “Rest.”

Nodding, Janus leaned back against the couch and tugged the cloth down over his eyes.

[janiedean]

will get to all your lovely replies asap but for now let me get down the mood with my usual

fuck but i really do hate this month and everything it represents or better the fact that each single year it gets just more miserable

[msftsn]

and @maljefe wrote in the journal; staining paper with ink to bleed the words : ❛  the truth is, i don’t want just anyone. i want you.  ❜ love confessions . loni & kazimir .

unnaturally blue eyes widen for a moment, surprise taking the cyborgs visage over like a thundering storm and for a moment it was as if kazimir brahms didn't exist. as if that cursed man from all those years ago was still alive, still human. as if that wretched man was standing here instead of him. as if there was still any humanity left in him. he stares at her, looking as though she'd just casually revealed the secrets of the world to him. she looks conflicted, as if she too can sense that this wasn't how it was supposed to be. the playful banter, the tension in the air ... it was supposed to be casual. sort of. they both knew better than to chase after something with someone who could ruin their life. & yet here they were. for a selfish moment he wants to smile.

because he never stopped loving her even after death.

his mouth opens, and perhaps for the first time since kazimir brahms first came to be his voice is more human than robotic; his throat constricts, hurts with the strain as it trembles in shock. even though he knows that he shouldn't be saying anything when he was the one who sought her out, who wouldn't let his past remain buried and followed her even though she didn't even recognize him. who selfishly pulled her in and pulled her close while donning and entirely new life and name. they both silently agreed that this was not going to be some cheesy story. that she'd do her thing just like he'd do his - that the closest to commitment they shared would be chris because whether he wanted to or not, that was her son. what foolish, emotional hypocrites they had been. his voice trembles, shivers. cracks and wavers.

❛  this isn't supposed to happen! you can't just fall in love with me!  ❜ - ❛  too late. ❜

she looks at him as if she's not sure if she can truly reach him; as if she didn't know she already owned his heart before she even knew him. and she doesn't, he remembers. because he's cruel. unfair. because he never truly told her anything other than the scraps he was willing to throw over his wall. he wants to think that maybe he wasn't built for love, but even though he knows he wasn't ... he does. he loves. he loves her with all his heart, with every fiber of his being and every piece of his brain. with every last bit of his soul; he loved loni valadian. itohan eghide once said that the actuality that the heart does not want to feel doesn't negate the certitude that it once felt and will still feel. the second he read that quote he hated it for its truth.

now that he thinks about it, perhaps he's been too self-indulgent, too selfish in the entire ordeal of this; and now he alone carries the guilt of two heavy hearts bared to destinies cruel wits. mien relaxes, shock making way for a raw sort of sadness that he should not be able to convey. he is breaking his system; or rather, loni is. but it is not the kind of breaking that will cause him to short circuit, rather it is a sort of brokenness that will allow him a little more freedom in his humanity, maybe. if he is lucky. and if he isn't ... well, it was nice for a few seconds he'd say. he looks at loni, looks at the furrowed brows, the serious expression on her face; the faintest twitch of her mouth that betrays that she wants to grab him by the collar and shake him for not saying anything else and letting her words dangle in the air - for allowing himself to get hurt, badly, without giving her a chance to say these words to him.

she's yelled at him for that before, right when he woke up. he assumes it's because she knows that unlike normal people he does not need time to readjust after waking up when his wounds have been tended to, simply because his body cannot feel the exhaustion and fatigue humans or humanoid-aligning creatures can. he lets out a dry, low huff at that, gives a bitter smile at the ground. he's feared that, for a while. he'd hoped that loni would be like him; a coward in their own right. but she isn't, never has been and he regrets underestimating her like that. she shouldn't be so intimidating to him in this moment, she was the one with her heart on her sleeve, she was the one baring it to him not the other way around. and yet, he falls backwards, lands his ass on the couch and puts his head in his hands, body racking as if he's sobbing violently. and maybe, just maybe, if his body could it would be doing just that. but it can't.

❛  don't do that. don't love me. don't give me your heart for me to waste it. ❜

his voice is breaking, cracking at the edges to reveal the sharp vulnerability that has cut him all these years. reveals the rawness that he's hid behind the lie of being incapable of processing such deep emotions. if he wasn't himself maybe he'd be happy. ecstatic even. he remembers a time where he would have jumped in joy to find out his emotions were reciprocated. but those times were over, at least in the outwardly joyousness. that person died when he thought of trying to help make the world safer against people like him. when he thought the one good deed he could do was destroy the very group that wanted to send him after the she-wolf.

he doesn't need to look up to know she probably feels just as helpless as him. it had to be said, had to be outed. if he stops denying it then he knows that much, but he would've hoped it never had to happen. emotions as soft as this deserved tenderness, to be treated like the fragile things they were; not to be thrown into two lives full of darkness and violence. he shakes his head, again, again and again before he gives up. looks up at loni with utter defeat in his eyes. his voice is hoarse, the faint traces of static buried underneath the pure agony in his voice. no, he's destroyed himself with this love. he refuses to pull her into the self - inflicted destruction too.

❛  don't love me. it will kill you the way it killed me to love you. ❜

[sunkern-plus]

also i'm sick of people treating emotional eating as something that makes you pathetic

it's LITERALLY consensus that it's caused by poor emotional regulation (which is caused by trauma or disability most of the time) and issues related to trauma and it's often genetic (purely anecdotal but i literally come from an entire line of emotional eaters)

and also from the autistic and adhd community i feel like the only autistic/adhd comorbid person who COMPULSIVELY and EMOTIONALLY eats and everyone on tumblr seems to like. not do that. even though compulsive and emotional eating is more often associated with more severe presentations of adhd/more common in afaik low-middle and middle support autism presentations and autism that's frequently comorbid with intellectual disability so i guess you people don't wanna be like Those Autistics, which, somehow includes me!

[nesushii]

“I think I’m dying.”

The words are out, like bile on the clean oak floor, and Logan wants to swallow them back up. Play it off as a joke, an exaggeration, a new type of vocabulary he was learning. But Patton looks like he’s been struck, wide eyed and gaping, and Roman stops halfway through his argument with Remus. It’s still, a tableau that would be almost comedic without the nausaeauting turn of his stomach, and for a single, relieving, horrifying moment Logan thinks it’ll be laughed off and forgotten.

But then a teapot shatters against the floor, and Janus stands up sharply.

“I think we should talk.”

Before he was led haphazardly out of the room, Logan chances a glance at the mess he had left behind. Ceramic shattered across the floor, leaking hot tea against the lovingly cleaned boards. The way Virgil has gone pale, hands fisted in the fabric of the couch. The warmth of a family dinner once again stained and broken by Logan’s clumsy hands. He feels his head float, and his feet step diligently forward. He does not look back again.

Later, when the shards have been picked up and the others had left, Janus leads him once more out to the kitchen. He is sat down and Patton pushes a warm cup of tea into his hands. He thinks of the tea staining the floorboards. He feels sick to his stomach.

update: fic is out!

[remythologise]

there’s something about mediocre-but-oddly-compelling fic thats >300k and usually incomplete, the kind you read when you’ve run out of the good stuff and desperate for longfic, that will just remain engraved in your psyche forever

[asksanderssides]

Question for everyone: How do you guys deal with the stuff that Remus says without y’all needing to fill the whole toilet up with vomit?

Roman: I've just gotten used to him. I've had to deal with Remus since we- well, since the two of us were formed, so I've learnt to tolerate or tune out his ideas over the years.

Logan: Most of what Remus says is nonsensical, and I find it easy to ignore the thoughts he creates if they are not relevant to my duties.

Virgil: *shrugs* I've gotten more used to it too over the years. He still says some gross stuff, but he doesn't scare me as much as he used to, so I guess that's something.

Patton: ...Is it ok if I get back to you on this question?

[radlymona]

Thinking about TTPD more and more, and I feel like to enjoy it you really do have to be on board for all of it. Like in the way that it engages with a lot of her discography both musically and lyrically, drawing on old narratives (sometimes with a fresh outlook and sometimes not), in the way that Taylor pokes fun at herself for her obsessive, often irrational approach to love, to the way that her much more serious relationship coming to a very slow decline feels overshadowed by the vibrant, whirlwind of the quick to follow rebound. And I think that whole chaotic aspect of her past year is reflected in her very quick delivery. I think it’s intentional that it feels overwhelming and that there’s a lot to say, because well a lot did happen.

And finally I really do think to like Taylor’s music you have to really be on board with “I never grew up, it’s getting so old.”

[antiquatedmagic]

"i pictured you with other girls in love and then threw up on the street."

[fadingluminaryruins]

My god, we are talking about a heartbroken retirement, we are talking about how much Lewis did something for everybody (including your son in-law) and say goodbye in the right way to Seb. But no, this shitty woman and all this family find the way to mess up this unique moment.

I wish karma to all this family.

I'm bummed that Max is still going along with it, like nothing happened. I was going to say more, but clearly I don't want to be set on fire.

« 'Cause karma is the thunder rattling your ground

Karma's on your scent like a bounty hunter

Karma's gonna track you down step by step, from town to town sweet like justice, karma is a queen »

[neednothavehappenedtobetrue]

local doofus gets a sunburn so bad she has to go to the ER.

local doofus throwing up so bad for 48 hours due to sunburn (and, to be fair, being real good at throwing up).