#shitweasel anon

[itsjustpoopeh]

'what does bucktommy have that buddie doesn't? a canon relationship?' you can say the same thing about all of buck and eddie's other relationships but you loved hating on those women for doing bad shit (taylor, shannon) or being older and therefore 'predatory' (abby) or being boring and underdeveloped (everybody else). but tommy who fits all of those categories (not calling him predatory but neither was abby hence scare quotes) is beloved. hmmm.

big feelings buddy? it's okay we'll take a real big breathe

#shitweasel anon #fuckferrets are the ableist martyr mommy apologists #anon asks #poopeh replies #911 abc #bucktommy

[creature-wizard]

The shitweasels from That Antisemitic Satanic Website have sent me another anon message! And again, it's copypasted! Loooool.

I know it's copypasted, but it's still fucking rich that they've rushed to reassure me that they aren't "white supremacists," because I never called them white supremacists. I called them "antisemitic conspiracy theorists," because they believe in antisemitic conspiracy theories. They treat The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion as if it's a genuine document and not a proven forgery. Among other things, they believe that Christianity is a Jewish tool of world domination and mind control, and that the Pentateuch was somehow stolen from the five suits of tarot, despite tarot being a 15th century invention.

Also, "Asian high priest"? From which part of Asia? Do you folks think Asia is a monolith or something? This isn't exactly helping you beat the racism allegations here.

This is the most pathetic attempt at playing the victim here. For one thing, Abrahamic religions aren't a monolith. There are different values among the many of them that exist (and there are quite a few more than three), and even within Christianity there's a substantial amount of diversity in values.

Also, worshiping pagan goddesses isn't exactly the win for feminism they seem to want to imply. Polytheistic Greeks were patriarchal.

Also, no shit that religions like Christianity are "anti-Satanic." You dork-ass losers aren't worshiping some ancient pre-Christian god. You're just worshiping the bad guy from Christianity, whom you've done mental gymnastics to convince yourself is actually Enki or Ea. Because you subscribe to that racist ancient aliens BS.

It doesn't matter how you try and paint yourselves up as progressive, it doesn't matter how diverse your movement is, the fact remains that you still buy into conspiracy theories created by Nazis and white supremacists. If you don't like it when people call you Nazis and white supremacists, maybe stop subscribing to their bullshit?

#anonsense #conspiracy theories #conspiracy theory #conspiracism #antisemitism #racism #nazis #paganblr #witchblr #occultblr

[actually-ao3]

incorrect quotes: psf edition!

The first version was made by the @theetherealraphael, using this generator. Featuring: @i-bless-your-heart, myself (As Ari),

@thesmallestclown, Raphael, @gibbish-anon-from-gell @real-starbucks @darthpastry @nanochittle

Raphael: You use emojis like a straight person.  Clown: That’s literally the worst thing anyone has ever said about me.

——————

Clown: Happy Canada day you syrup drinking, hockey loving piece of shit.  Gibbish: Happy Fourth of July you gun toting, capitalist shitweasel.

——————

Darth: How would you like your coffee?  Nano: As dark as my soul.  Darth: Got it, one cup of milk coming right up! 

——————

Raphael, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands. 

——————

Blessie: Darth has no survival skills, their need to win has replaced them.  Nano: That can't be true!  Blessie: Watch this.  Blessie: Hey Darth, race you to the bottom of the stairs!  Darth: *Throws themself out a window* 

——————

Blessie: Bottling up negative emotions is bad for your health, so you shouldn't do it.  Ari: I know, that's why I bottle up all my emotions, both positive and negative, so it cancels out.  Blessie: Th-that's not how that works- 

——————

Raphael: I hope they've calmed down...  Starbucks: Shut the fuck up you annoying ass pig. 

——————

Darth: If I see a bug, I simply leave the room elegantly and require someone else do something about it.  Darth: If no one fulfills my wish, I simply never go back in there. 

——————

Gibbish, talking about Nano: Is this a friend of yours, Starbucks?  Starbucks: Kind of? Not really. They're in my life and there's nothing I can do about it. 

——————

Raphael: Hi, do you take walk-ins?  The Morgue: What? 

——————

Ari: My expectations are low, but they can always go lower. 

——————

Blessie: My toxic trait is that I'm convinced that if I ever saw a wolf or bear in the forest, I could get it to be my friend.

——————

Blessie: What happened?!  Darth: Do you want the long version or the short version?  Blessie: Sh-short??  Darth: Shit's fucked.  Blessie: Okay, long.  Darth: Shit's very fucked.

——————

Darth: If a man says to another man "Imma get you pregnant", is that considered a threat? Clown:Why, do you feel threatened?

——————

Gibbish: I’m proud to say I’ve come over my fear of ghosts!  Nano: Eyy, that’s the spirit!  Gibbish: *gasps* whErE???!!!?? 

Tags: Humor, Fluff, Heavy Fluff, The Pink Sparkle Family, Family Relationships, no beta we die like the spirit in the last one

#ao3 is the best fanfic site

[boo-moved]

rude ass anon unable to comprehend absolute swag, has to resort to insults bc their life is somehow so unfulfilling that they have to let everyone know how much of a festering little shitweasel they are

real!!!!

#asks

[not-poignant]

omg, could you tell us more swear words, please? :D i also loved the "shitweasel" HAHA

Honestly anon most of the swear words I use are the pretty normal complement of swear words except that I say wanker instead of tosser, and am more likely to say cunt than the average non-Australian.

Combining swear words in a pinch when you need something to really express how unhappy you are with someone, or a situation, or life itself, very much has to be in the moment! (As it was, swearing at my knee yesterday, because it was being an absolute wankstain x.x)

#asks and answers #personal #linguistics and australian swearing lmao #i'm not even that ocker #but swearing is what we doooo #like it's funny because i actually cut down the swearing in my writing #which in retrospect is like 'whoops i guess we swear a lot'

[ashintheairlikesnow]

(Vince going to sleep anon again) it probably doesn't help taht dmitri is also much more physically able to do some terrible things. Owen's scrawny ass doesn't compare and look at the damage he did

Owen isn't scrawny, actually! he's solidly built and on the stockier side of muscular, works out a lot and purposefully does strength training. He also does boxing and has taken various martial arts classes since he was little as part of acting jobs.

When he originally drugged and attacked Vince, he weighed more than Vince despite Owen being inches shorter and years younger. Kauri was short and lithe, trained for flexibility and balance and not for strength.

Scrawny compared to Dmitri? Sure, but that's like saying a dachshund is small as compared to an Irish Wolfhound.

Owen didn't drug Vince because he COULDN'T have taken him down regardless. And he didn't enjoy Kauri's helplessness because he wasn't capable of controlling him through physical violence without it.

He's just such an enormous goddamn coward, a vicious little shitweasel who would rather make it so the confrontation doesn't happen.

#owen asks #vince asks

[smitethestate]

I have yet to see a pansexual person explain the difference between pansexuality and bisexuality, because there is no difference. The only reason for someone to id as pan over bi is biphobia, plain and simple.

By that logic, couldn't I claim that the only reason for someone to ID as bi over pan is panphobia? I won't, though, because I'm not a total wank. Get over yourself soon, anon!

#anon #answered #panphobia #bi and pan solidarity forever shitweasel

[thebibliosphere]

"Why don't you ever turn anon on?"

Unfortunately, mean people ruined that particular experience for everyone.

Like you know the stuff I do occasionally bitch about? That's the shit people feel entitled to say to me on main. Can you imagine the tenth circle of Hell my inbox would descend into if I gave those shitweasels a modicum of anonymity? Fuck that.

[lunatriense]

Enjoy being a loser who hates a cartoon because you fetishize a narcissistic authoritarian dudebro and hate the fact that the female leads of the show are the people in the right and not dumb bimbos who have to learn to defer to every man in sight.

Oh look, another hater! It's cute that you think I care even a little bit what an anonymous shitweasel thinks about me, and fucking hilarious that you think I'm a loser when you're hiding on anon to send me hate.

For the record, I don't hate RWBY because I "fetishise a narcissistic authoritarian dudebro" (none of which is true about Ironwood BTW), and I don't "hate the fact that the female leads are in the right" because, y'know, they're the ones who destroyed a kingdom and killed millions of people because they didn't want to listen to any adult or even do the thing they went to Atlas to do in the first place. Them being dumb bimbos who defer to every (adolescent) man in sight is kinda the problem.

#rwde #Coward anon

[misericorsalvator]

How is the blogging going old man lol

Come off of anon and fight me you cowardly shitweasel

#vtm rp #ic #ask #Anonymous

[itsjustpoopeh]

yes, you see his improved relationship with hen and chim... what you don't see is tommy doing anything to earn it... and if i'm supposed to understand that that happened off screen, i don't care, they should have just written buck a new love interest.

#shitweasel anon #anon asks #poopeh replies #911 abc

[fierceawakening]

That last ask reminded me of the anon that said not including the experiences of minorities facing bigotry is lazy writing. I see where they're coming from but that to me that sounds a bit absolutist. I believe there's space at the table for everything. There are plenty of minorities who would love to explore escapist fiction that completely does away with the concept of bigotry. Anyway here's a minority fully supportive of any seasonal hallmark movie-type story you'd care to write Fierce!

I’m not very seasonal hallmark myself, sorry! I tend to be the person arguing AGAINST “don’t kill the gays/don’t fridge the women/don’t rape the lesbian/blah blah $foo $bar,” precisely because I think writers who ARE gay (or women, or disabled, or trans, or religious minorities, or POC, or or or) are actually likely to have had stuff happen to them or their friends or loved ones, and telling them not to write about it just because you happen to want Hallmark and are too lazy to read content warnings ‘til you find it is absolutely shitweasel territory. 

Writers are people, and we don’t come with little “trauma level” dials you get to twiddle. You get to decide who gets your money! That’s enough control, dears.

#Anonymous

[starkercrossedlovers]

Hi bud! 3, 16, and 39 for you~ ❤

Three: rant. just do it

Ok...I absolutely cannot stand how so many anons think they can get away with being rude to me about other blogs, my life, etc. What in God’s name possesses you to think you can speak to me like that? Do I seem like the type of person who will take your shit?

CUZ I’M NOT YOU SHITWEASELS

Sixteen: if you had to get a tattoo right now, what would you get and where?

On my ribs!

Thirty-nine: describe your aesthetic

Black cat, candles on the headboard, bubble baths, red wine, lazy sundays, chai, cat eyeliner, pocket knife

#starcrossedtalks #asks #anon

[vagrantblvrd]

A Better Place to Land (1/1)

Summary: Gavin’s been in trouble before, but nothing like this.

Notes: Prompt fill for Anon who asked for hacker!Gavin running into the Fake AH Crew, :D?

AO3

Nature of his line of work and all. Up until this point he’s been fortunate enough that no one’s been able to identify him, just think of him as an anonymous figure on the other end of a phone call or internet connection.

Granted, there had been the situation in England that made coming to the US seem like a good idea. And that other situation about a year or so later that led Meg to his door and so on. A few close calls since then, but really, nothing like this.

Stumbling over a pile of secrets left sitting around where just anyone could find them and realizing too late how important they were. The kind of idiots who’d left said secrets all but unattended discovering someone (Gavin) had found them, and now-

Well.

Now there are people running about the city looking for him. Nasty little smirks and this look in their eyes like they’re going to enjoy collecting on his bounty. (Dead or alive, or so it goes, and dead is always easier for their sort.)

The worst bit is that there’s nothing impersonal to it at all, with them. No “just business and no hard feelings”, because that he could tolerate. Understand a bit better, but the ones who get sent after him all tend to be of the twisted sort who like their jobs a little too much to be considered wholly sane.

He doesn’t feel nearly as bad as he ought to then, when he catches them in his little traps around the city. The ones he leads straight into the hands of hostile gangs or the police. (Both of which are notoriously territorial and tend to shoot first and ask questions later in this city.)

It works out for a bit, although it’s inconvenient as all hell. Has him running about all over the city and it’s exhausting. So it’s no surprise at all when his luck runs out on him in the figure of the Vagabond and his little friend with appalling fashion sense. (Rimmy something, and he hopes for his sake it’s not his given name, because that would just be cruel.)

They’ve run him to a roadside motel outside the city. First place he’s had time to get more than an hour of sleep at a time and stepping off point to leave Los Santos and his troubles there behind. Maybe go back to England or take Meg up on her offer to cause a little mischief across Europe for a bit, but it looks like those plans aren’t going to happen after all.

(Point of pride, stupid as it is, that he’s led them in circles around the city as long as he has. Cat and mouse and a ruined car or two for them that made it costly for them, although that might come back on him soon enough.)

“Well then, that’s that, is it?” Gavin says, still half asleep because he’s been on the move for days now and exhaustion finally caught up to him.

That, and the bullet graze from some bastard a few days ago.

Caught Gavin with his guard down, and he’s still annoyed about that one because it makes running far more painful. (He suspects it might be infected with the way he feels, all tired and slow and stupid and aching all over.)

The Vagabond stares at him. Tall, dark, and menacing in his ridiculously effective outfit as he blocks the only escape route in the room while Rimmy-whatsit pokes around Gavin’s laptop.

Every so often he’ll look over at Gavin like he thinks Gavin will up and hand over his passwords because the Vagabond’s looming over him. (To be fair, it’s a good intimidation tactic, but Gavin’s seen better.)

This wouldn’t be Gavin’s choice of places to die – unbelievably drafty and the carpeting is some ungodly pattern - but he suppose most people don’t get a say in that sort  of thing.

Gavin opens his mouth to say something, anything really, because all this silence is unnerving, when a third person bursts through the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, c'mon, we have to leave. Travis’ goons are on their way here. Grab the little shitweasle and let's get the fuck out of here!”

Gavin frowns, because ‘shitweasel’ is a new one, isn’t it  - but the Vagabond’s already moving, Pulling Gavin to his feet as he jams a gun against his side.

The new figure starts packing up Gavin’s gear and he catches what looks like a snarling wolf’s head on the back of his jacket as he moves past.

The Vagabond is recognizable enough, and he’s been known to work with others in the past, most notably Rimmy-whatsit.

It’s the one with the wolf on his back that really brings home the amount of trouble Gavin’s found himself in because he must be Mogar, and everyone in the city knows he’s a Fake. (There are rumors starting to make the rounds that the Fakes have managed to snare the Vagabond somehow, and Mogar’s presence is rather damning.)

Gavin’s still coming to terms with that realization, which is why he reacts without thinking when he sees Mogar and the other one packing up his laptop and gear carelessly.

“Hey, be careful with that!” Gavin snaps, and gets a little shake from the Vagabond as a warning.

“Could you not?” the Vagabond asks, first thing Gavin’s heard him say this whole time.

Mild enough, but the hand around Gavin’s arm tightens in time with the pointed  jab of the gun in his ribs, and right, right.

Not really the time.

Gavin ducks his head, fingers twitching as he watches the others treating his gear without the necessary care in their haste to clear out.

He gets shoved into the back of a car idling in front of the motel. Dark red and armored from the looks of her, and Rimmy-whatsit gets in beside him.

Unspoken threat in the flash of his teeth, and Gavin plays meek and mild because he’s not in the best position at the moment and it pays to be underestimated.

========

They take him to a warehouse and leave him in a room tied to a chair with Rimmy-whatsit keeping an eye on him.

Mirrored Aviators and that damnable cowboy hat and perfectly neutral expression on his face. Not even a twitch when Gavin tries to engage him in idle chatter, and that’s just disheartening.

There’s a chair sitting opposite Gavin, and he feels tired just looking at it knowing what’s to come.

Offers and incentives and when those don’t work, out come the threats. When those don’t work, they’ll start with the so-called “demonstrations” that tend to leave scars. It never changes, as though all these people are working off the same script. No originality to them at all.

With Rimmy-whatsit doing his best impression of a statue, Gavin has four blank walls to stare out as he considers the situation he’s in and all the ways it could go badly for him if he doesn’t cooperate with them. (Better than it could be, because the Fakes, at least, can be reasoned with.)

At some point Mogar comes in with a medical kit and sees to the bullet graze on Gavin’s leg. There’s angry little scowl on his face, and this snarl in his voice as he looks at the makeshift bandage.

“The fuck is this?”

Gavin shrugs as well as he’s able given his binds.

“Well,” he says, not quite sure what to make of the fact they’re giving him medical care. “Not like I could just pop down to the store to get medical supplies with you lot looking for me, now could I?”

It’s not just the Fakes Gavin’s talking about, but they’re the ones who gave him the most trouble. Never fell for any of his tricks or traps, and that had been more than a little annoying.

Mogar growls, and Gavin has to bite back a laugh because he’s not sure it would be appreciated at the moment.

“Well good job on that one idiot, because it’s infected.”

Hmm, yes, it does seem to be, doesn’t it.

Red and angry and foul enough that Gavin can’t look at it without feeling nauseous, but Mogar’s careful about it as he cleans the graze and bandages it. Sits back on his heels and gives Gavin this odd look as though he wants to say something, but isn’t sure how to go about it.

“Thank you,” Gavin says, because his grandfather taught him manners, and there’s no reason not to use them now when Mogar’s shown him unexpected kindness.

“Let one of us know if it gets worse,” Mogar says, disgruntled look on his face as he leaves.

========

Gavin spends another hour mapping various water stains on the ceiling before he decides enough time has passed that it won’t seem too suspicious to request a bathroom break.

Close enough to the truth, and he didn’t get a good look around when they bundled him in here earlier.

He’s not even sure where the damn place is located thanks to the armored car. (Helpful things, those, but by their nature not great for taking in the scenery, what with the armor plating over the windows and such.)

Rimmy-whatsit gives Gavin a deeply suspicious look, but apparently would rather Gavin try something stupid than make a mess while he’s stuck guarding him.

Gavin gets a brief look around on the way. Sees empty storage racks forming aisles on one side and a space for vehicles on one side. (No mystery what the warehouse is normally used for then, although the state of it implies it’s new property for the Fakes or hasn’t been used in some time.)

They happen upon the Vagabond and Mogar along the way, the two of them arguing with someone over speakerphone.

Rimmy-whatsit shrugs at them as they pass by, and then they reach the restroom.

“Don’t fucking think about trying anything,” Rimmy-whatsit warns as Gavin steps inside.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Gavin says brightly, and quickly does his business as he contemplates what he knows.

Honestly, it’s not a hopeless situation.

While these three are hardly thrilled with him after what he’s put them through this past little while, they’ve treated him well. Gone so far to give him medical treatment, even, and that’s promising.

The warehouse is laid out about as he’d suspected and the lack of noise filtering through makes him think it’s somewhat isolated. At the very least not in a high traffic area, which -

“You done in there?”

Gavin makes a face and looks around for something to dry his hands with and realizes too late there isn’t anything at all. He settles for shaking water off his hands best he can and opens the door to see Rimmy-whatsit eyeing him suspiciously.

“You’re out of paper towels,” Gavin says brightly, and holds his hands up.

Rimmy-whatsit sighs as he grabs Gavin’s arm and gives him a gentle push to get him moving.

“Sorry to hear that, pal. Sounds rough.”

=========

Gavin’s in the middle of formulating an escape plan. Terribly risky with a minimal chance of success, but awfully tempting all the same, when the door opens.

A pair of familiar figures walk in with the Vagabond and the others taking up flanking positions. (A bit overkill, really, considering Gavin’s not much of a threat at the moment.)

Ramsey and Patillo, and oh, what a day it’s been.

Gavin smiles, this tired little thing as Los Santos’ very own Kingpin strolls up to him, head tilted just so.

“You’re the one who’s been giving everyone the run around?” he asks, like Gavin’s not at all what he expected, and honestly, Gavin gets that a lot.

He blames Vinewood.

All those dashing actors playing the parts of hackers in terribly cliché movies which just leads to disappointment when people meet him.

Gavin just looks at him, because first off, rude, and secondly -

Well, it’s not like this is going to go well for him, so he’s not about to make this easy on the bastard.

The corner of Ramsey’s mouth ticks up in this amused little smile as he glances to the Vagabond and the others.

“Do you realize that these assholes have been trying to find you for a while now?”

Oddly enough, yes.

Gavin is very much aware of that fact.

He’s lost the use of several safehouses and boltholes, called in favors on top of favors to slow them down. Feed them false information to buy Gavin just a little more time, and it’s been a bit of a bother, overall.

“Have they?” he asks, mimicking Ramsey. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Patillo snorts, smiling placidly when Ramsey shoots him a look.

“Jack?”

Patillo shakes his head, little smile on his face as he takes a step back, fading into the background, and Gavin goes very, very still.

He’s been warned about Patillo.

Ramsey’s right-hand man and the one who handled the less glamorous aspects of a crew like the Fakes in its early days. Not much else is known about him aside from the largely unhelpful bits about him being an amazing pilot. Said to be quiet and mild-mannered in contrast to certain other members of his crew. (Until he’s not.)

Ramsey turns back to Gavin with this look on his face. Gaze dropping to the bandage on his leg and Gavin -

“Michael looked at that for you?” he asks, sounding as though he’s genuinely concerned Gavin’s being taken care of while they have him tied to a chair in a warehouse.

(Such a gracious host.)

Gavin glances at Mogar – Michael? He’s scowling a little even now, and it’s charming.

Such a grumpy bastard, that one. Snappish and snarlish and surprisingly kind under it all.

“He was lovely,” Gavin says with a little smile tacked on. “They’ve all been very, very lovely.”

The strangest thing about it is that they have, really. Despite the chase Gavin led them on and little inconveniences (somewhat annoying that that’s all amounted to in the end) he threw at them they’ve been more than hospitable.

Ramsey eyes him as though he’s trying to decide if Gavin’s manage to hit his head somewhere along the way or if he’s always been the way he is.

“Have they now,” he says, and now the man’s mimicking Gavin mimicking him, as if things couldn’t get any more bizarre. “Interesting.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, and the whole thing must be too much for the others because -

“For fuck’s sake, get on with it, Geoff. We don’t have all fucking day for you two to dick around.”

“Michael has a point,” Ramsey says, and it looks like they’re finally going to get to the matter at hand.

Ramsey sits down in the chair across from Gavin and leans forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together loosely as he studies Gavin. Calm and relaxed and very much in control.

And Gavin -

He’s not exactly at his best right now, really. Tired and worn down, bit battered and bruised and that nasty bullet graze that’s made matter worse for him by becoming infected in spite of his best efforts.)

“You wouldn’t happen to be in the market for a job, would you?” Ramsey asks, definitely not at all what Gavin was expecting from him.

Gavin stares at him.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but the city’s in an uproar at the moment.” Ramsey pauses for dramatic effect. “Word on the street is that you’re the reason.”

Not so much Gavin himself as what he found. Bout of idle curiosity and the kind of luck that lands him in all kinds of interesting situations.

People always react badly when they realize their dirty little secrets aren’t quite as secure as they’d like. Go to great lengths in order to prevent them from being exposed, do all kinds of terrible things. (Especially politicians when they happen to have close ties with criminal organizations they’d rather the public not know about, such as Travis.)

Ramsey smiles, spreads his hands as he lays out an offer.

Contract work, by the sounds of it. Help them with a situation their pet hacker is having difficulties with – and no wonder when it involves the IAA’s database – and some intel that requires finesse to acquire.

“You might have noticed,” Ramsey says,  wry twist to his mouth as he gestures at the others. “These assholes wouldn’t know subtle it if bit them in the ass.”

The Fake AH Crew do have a reputation for being a bit...rambunctious.

“A bit, yes,” Gavin says, because his third favorite safehouse went up in flames thanks to them.

Ramsey snorts, and it’s an interesting process to watch the Kingpin facade melt away to reveal the man underneath it all.

“Travis isn’t going to forget about you,” he says, as though they’re old friends catching up after a long time apart. “He’s got a long memory, and with as many...supporters he has in our line of work, he’s got the resources.”

And the will, because the man’s making a bid for city.

Thinks the title of mayor would suit him wonderfully, and after that there are higher seats of power he plans to aim for. All of those dirty little secrets Gavin found would ruin him if they ever got out.

Gavin says nothing, waiting to see -

“We’re not exactly fans of the man ourselves,” Ramsey says with a grimace.

They wouldn’t be, would they. Not when Travis has been exceedingly vocal about “dealing with” the Fake AH Crew, has made it something of the basis of his campaign.

“I wouldn’t think so, no,” Gavin says, and knows what Ramsey wants.

Travis’ secrets, and in exchange they’ll offer him protection.

It’s not the worst idea, really.

They’re known for being rambunctious, yes, but also for dealing fairly with those who deal fairly with them. Reputations for looking after their own, and little love for bastards like Travis and his ilk. (And somehow they’ve managed to do what no one else in this damned city has by somehow getting the Vagabond on board with them.)

At the very least, it will prove to be interesting.

“The IAA’s database you said?” Gavin asks, because he’s never tried something with that level of security to it.

“They think they own us,” Ramsey says, little flash of teeth to show what he thinks about that. “Keep coming to us to fix their mistakes, and it’s getting a little old.”

Oh, there’s clearly more to it than just that. (Too much anger in the man’s eyes for something as simple as that.)

Gavin should think about it, consider his options and all, but -

“Sounds interesting,” Gavin says, because he could do worse for himself than see what this lot have to offer, where it might lead. “I wouldn’t mind giving things a try.”

========

Complications

#ragehappy #anon #Prompt Fills #Kings of Nowhere #vagrant fic #A Better Place to Land

[taztaas]

Anon(s) who asked for Magnus/Lucas, I’m sorry but I can’t do it. I know it’s tough out there on rarepair island but in my opinion, Lucas Miller is a total shitweasel and I don’t want to inflict him on anyone.

#taastalks #taz

[cookingwithroxy]

“Fucktards” nice

I’m not in a good enough of a mood to come up with a more clever insult. Combining terms is at least a good enough standard.

To be honest tho, I could have been doing Anon a great disservice. They could have been something along the far-right side instead of far-left, but far-right people generally don’t do as much community building exercises, and would have mouthed off about that part of the original post.

Gah tho I’m tired, trying to work out more insults and all that came to mind was ‘Shitweasel’ and ‘Assfactor’ and I’m pretty sure that second one isn’t even good as an insult.