Ic - Blog Posts
@madeyed-andmoody
June 23rd, 1984.
Severus strode through the halls of the Prewett estate at a brisk clip, the silence of the early morning interrupted by the shuffle of early risers and birdsong.
They’ve spent the last three days since the Order meeting weaving through their circle of Death Eaters, known and suspected, trying to find as much as they can about the attack on muggleborn children in time to prepare for the mission. Their situation was not ideal. The Death Eaters continued to make the first move and the Order continued to scramble to keep up. Something’s got to change, Severus thought, but it was an old and worn out thought, first born by the muddy river at cokeworth, echoed a second time between the old bookshelves of the Hogwarts library, and again years into their allegiance to the Dark Lord when they had been fully disillusioned with the lies and promises.
In all fairness to the thought, change did follow it’s every iteration. This will not be an exception.
They pushed the doors to the dining room open and their eyes fell upon the man they came here to see. ‘ Moody, ’ They greeted with a nod, walking into the room and letting the door swing shut behind them. They pulled out a small vial of silver mist from an inner pocket as they approached. ‘ I’ve got something to report. ’
asphodelroot:
Sausage rolls and fries were not enough to forestall the shocked look of betrayal she gave him. That had been her cherry! She needed those cherries—did he have any idea what sort of battle she had endured to secure them? Of course not, because Lily hadn’t told him. And she usually didn’t make more than a token fuss about food theft; Severus always needed more feeding, and if it required letting him feel like he was getting away with something via theft for it to happen, so be it.
Her cherries had never been intended to fall victim to that policy, but after a moment of hurt scowling, Lily let it go and focused on savouring the sole cherry left for her, tucked in the corner of her mouth. She didn’t have many close friends to start, and was on the wrong side of the majority of them; no matter how sacred her cherry had been, she wasn’t going to lose Severus over it. Not tonight. (Never again.)
Finally swallowing her cherry, she fished out a bit of ice to munch on instead. “We came together. He’s definitely got some bugbears behind the ears tonight,” she shared. “Snappish, grumpy, probably should have stayed home but even more bullheaded and stubborn than usual. I told him to avoid alcohol tonight—no idea if he’ll actually listen to that bit of advice.” Despite that grim debrief, Lily was willing to call tonight not a disaster thus far. Nothing broken, no one thrown across the room. Far from the bloodbath Lily hadn’t been expecting but hadn’t ruled out as a possibility. “Will you be tweaking the brew again, for tomorrow night? Maybe some hawthorn bark to help him stay calm.”
Severus blinked at her scowling for a few moments after she let it go, then pushed the plate of sausage rolls closer to her. He’d clearly misread the room. She was more upset than he realized.
‘ He’s always agitated before the full moon, ’ Severus said again, this time reassuringly. ‘ You should’ve seen him last month. Absolutely insufferable — still no violent outbursts. With me trying. He can keep it together for a few more hours. ’ Or else he wouldn’t have come at all tonight … hopefully. Severus was banking on the assumption that at least one of the four buffoons of his childhood had enough sense to stay home when they needed to. Especially if said buffoon had been dealing with the same pre-moon mood swings for as long as they could remember.
Which was, put like that, a rather tall order.
He looked at Black again, then said to Lily with a straight face: ‘ I could keep Black occupied for the rest of the night if you’d prefer. ’ He and Black going at each other would at least not be shocking. They’ve been practically exchanging friendship bracelets the last few months, it would just be setting the world back to rights, if nothing else.
He hummed. ‘ The problem’s not keeping him calm, it’s keeping him present. Mentally. I’ve modified the brew to keep him aware and in control through the eclipse. The calm will come with that. ’ He paused, casting his mind back to the multitudes of equations and ideas he went through to get to a result worth testing. ‘ It should work. ’ But they don’t know that. They won’t until they test it.
So did I, Severus thought but didn’t say aloud. They had a busy schedule. They kept up with many duties at once. When the werewolf invited them for coffee they dismissed the idea out of hand, but as they found themself free this afternoon (what a coincidence! How often did a hole in their schedule appear unannounced?) they threw on an old pair of jeans and a shirt, their feet taking them down familiar London streets before they fully realized what they were doing. Or rather, why they were doing it.
The last time they properly set foot in the muggle world was so long ago Severus couldn’t place it accurately. Despite this, they merged into the comfortable flow of foot traffic as seamlessly as they would if they’ve never left. The difference between London’s streets and the silent, furtive shuffle of Diagon’s was unsubtle. It was like the war had disappeared behind them, as real as a troubling dream upon waking. Severus disliked spending more time here than they absolutely had to. Juxtaposed with this comfortable illusion of safety, the reality of their everyday life reimposed itself tenfold.
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Dropped his gaze to the table instinctively, then looked at the werewolf, at the hand gesture. Fine, he thought, dragging the metal chair back to take a seat. Fine, then he motioned for the waiter to get him his own coffee (black, no milk, no sugar) and sat down.
He crossed his legs at the knees. Leaned back, elbow resting over the back of the metal chair. He fought the urge to fiddle with his silver earring. ‘ I almost decided this was a joke, ’ he said, the corner of his lips lifted in a smirk. ‘ One last cheap shot for old times’ sake. I haven’t ruled that out yet, just so you know. ’ He watched the werewolf silently, hand close to his wand. Waiting. Wary, but an ever-present anger moving beneath the surface. ‘ What’s this about? ’
WHEN: sometime shortly after Severus joined the order WHERE: muggle coffee shop CLOSED for @wrongdeor
Remus Lupin is not a man of many regrets. In fact, blinding Gryffindor as he is, he’d rather puff out his chest and act like a massive dick, saying he’s never done any wrong, rather than admit to some things he’d like to change in his past. But there are things. Pride sits high up in his chest and refuses to let the words form on his tongue on most days, but he has things to apologise for. In particular, the one time he was, in fact, a monster.
He’s never been proud of hurting people; every time he’s lashed out at his friends through the years, every time the full moon has made its home amongst the stars and some greater evil within him has tried its best to tear apart his friendships, he always crawls back and begs for forgiveness the morning after. He’s not a monster, he doesn’t want to be. Except the one time he is, the one time he’s done one of the worst things he could do, he hides behind his friends and doesn’t think about it ever again. There are layers upon layers of denial that sit atop of whatever foggy memory he has of the prank. He felt used by his friend, like a killing machine upon a leash; he felt inhuman for the first time in years; he was a monster who had nearly killed someone. It was easier to push all of it away, deal with none of it, and act like it didn’t happen.
It felt like that, until Severus joined the Order. Seeing them more often made the lump in Remus’ throat grow, the guilt and the resentment flooding up his brain until it was a headache he couldn’t get rid of, an ever present ache he was fighting against. He isn’t a man of many regrets, yes, but he’s not going to walk around like a coward, barely able to meet Severus’ eyes. So he sets up a meeting.
“I thought you weren’t gonna show up.” He greets, when Severus finally arrives. There’s a scone forgotten on his plate and a half-empty cup of some overpriced cappuccino concoction in front of him. He blinks up at the other, almost as if dumbfounded by their presence, before he gestures to the seat across from him. “Please."
@melancolialunar
June 14th, 1984. The Lupins’ household.
Severus stepped over the cobblestoned garden path and up the steps in a straight, uninterrupted walk, but as they stopped before the closed door, they hesitated. They were keenly interested to see how the adjusted Wolfsbane fared against the eclipse, and that was what brought them here in the first place, but before they rang the bell to Lupin’s mother’s house, they felt a rush of nerves at what awaited them and what to expect from this visit. The last time they dealt with an eclipse, Severus didn’t see Lupin for nearly a week. And the wolfsbane was completely ineffective then. Now — Severus wanted to see for themself.
They shifted the strap of the work bag against their shoulder, adjusted the pot of hot soup in their hands, took a deep breath that they let out slowly. They rang the doorbell, and waited. ‘ Good to see you’re still alive, ’ Severus greeted dryly. But not dishonestly. ‘ We have a lot of work to do, ’ they lifted the shoulder with the bag strap briefly, shifted their stance, and patted the lid of the steaming pot of chicken soup. Then declared their offering, ‘ I brought food. ’
Severus stayed in their little out of the way table for twenty minutes after Lily gathered her worry-fueled determination about her like the hems of a too long dress and set out anew to find Lupin. They didn’t envy the werewolf, who was unlikely to find anywhere clever enough to hide from Lily, but if he was going to indulge in self destruction then Lily was free to indulge in her excessive mothering. Severus kept an eye and an ear out, just to see how that went. Indulgent, themself, in their own hobby : people-watching. They liked to see how things went with people, once they picked up on a thread.
Soon enough they were bored with their seat and changed vantage points, picking up their near-empty butterbeer and moving to the bar, where they could see the other side of the club more easily. It was the same glass they had all night. ( Severus didn’t get drunk in public — alone in their room? Very much. Too often. Especially while working on a difficult project. But not in public. That would be embarrassing — dangerous, too. But mostly embarrassing. ).
A glass of Whiskey slid down the bar towards them. ‘ How terrible of me to forget my manners, ’ Severus rolled their eyes, but picked up the offered drink. ‘ And with such respectable company at that. ’ The din of noise and chaos rose around them at just that moment before dying down quickly. This was more of a post-Quidditch House party than anything else.
They’d meant to reach out to Longbottom — just to test the waters. Just to see in what direction her thoughts and inclinations leaned. It was interesting to see her reach out to Severus first, but not, from what they observed, completely unexpected. They looked at her, eyebrow raised, made a quick pass over the surface of her thoughts. Intentions rippled slowly from underneath. ‘ I’ll take the company and the drink, ’ they said with a nod, ‘ but keep in mind I’m not as easily entertained as Lupin. ’
Whiskey with Notes of Ulterior Motive
LOCATION: The Flaming Dragon DATE: June 12, 1984 @wrongdeor
Alice shook her stinging hand out, pleased and pleasantly tired in that slightly-battered way that followed a game of Quodcup, and leaned back against the bar to finish catching her breath. Not that she was some old-fart like Moody who needed to catch her breath after a rousing game or anything, of course not. But it was a nice excuse to relax and take a breath.
She took a sip of the rich Cinnamon Crackle Whiskey she’d ordered as a rich, mellow break from the brighter, more interesting drinks she’d been imbibing so far tonight, distractedly savoring the way the sparking crackles snapped against her lips before dissolving into the almost honey-like liquid that trickled down her throat like a balm.
Then she paused so abruptly that she almost choked, swallowed before she actually did choke, and beckoned urgently to the bartender for a second beverage. Waiting for its arrival was torture that had her bouncing on her stool. The glass had barely brushed her fingers when pushed off the bar with sudden, impatient purpose. The grin that had flickered across her face at the sight of her target flickered away again almost as quickly in favor of determination. The rest of the bar fell away (not completely; Alice wasn’t an idiot, which meant she knew that if she ever let herself close-focus so hard that she forgot to pay attention to the world around her in a place where Alastor Moody could see her, she would regret it) and she walked through the cluster of her allies on autopilot, heading for someone who had joined those ranks only a few months ago and whom Alice hadn’t made an effort to seek out more than in passing yet.
But that had been before she’d realized the true value Severus Snape brought to the Order of the Phoenix. It wasn’t what he knew about the Death Eaters, so much of which he couldn’t explicitly share with the rest of them – whether because of compulsion spells Voldemort placed on his followers or admonishments from Dumbledore not to spread his secrets too widely Alice neither knew nor cared. It was because he knew of what they knew: the Dark Magic they used to such devastating extent against the Order. And not just the sort of Dark Magic that one could learn from books, no. She had learned that Severus was one of those rare wix with the gift for true creativity.
Alice slid into the empty chair next to Severus and pushed the second glass of whiskey towards him with her fingertips like it was a sort of offering. “Bad form to drink alone at a party,” she said lightly. “So I brought you a drink and company with which to quaff it.” She offered a smile – warm, but thin; she didn’t want to come on too strong and put his hackles up. (Not that she was sure she’d ever seen him with his hackles down anywhere among the Order.) “You can decline either or both, of course,” she added in a dry deadpan, “but know that if you do so you’ll be shattering my heart irreparably.”
@asphodelroot
june 12th, 1984. the flaming dragon.
Severus didn’t initially plan on coming here at all — it’s a party, and the only way to get Severus to go to one was through the promise of information, opportunity, or a thoroughly studied campaign of coercion by the Malfoys. But he was here now, tucked into his usual table with a tall glass of butterbeer, eyes tracking the movements in the crowd with some interest. It was rare that a large number of the Order was in one place at once, and watching them move and blend together was it's own well of information.
Selwyn flitted through the room, wide smile, drinks sloshing about, but her eyes stayed alert. Jones was at the bar, taking shots with Potter. Lupin slipped through the crowd moments ago, still sour as a grape, and Severus had lost track of him. Severus leaned to the right. ‘ Nine sickles say Lupin’ll punch someone by the end of the night. ’
Somewhere, Minerva Orland is laughing at him~
And right here, Ezra is frowning.Frowning p hard rn tbh.
“These days I can’t seem to get along with anyone.” ~ from Mira
✠┊accepting.
When it came to these things, at times, the logical ▬ perhaps, the only ▬ problem truly existed in the person. If so many were at odds, then perhaps she was the problem, right?
And yet, he could not see it as such, ever. This was Mirajane ▬ Mira ▬ and Ezra recognized the inner workings of her mind; the way the subtle shifts of her body told tales of the inner turmoil she faced, often alone. He knew her, in ways he’d known few others.
❝ Then, perhaps, these days there is no one worth getting along with. ❞
“I’m the violence in the pouring rain.”
✠┊accepting.
He stood, body stilled as if cut from stone. His thumb idly tracing the hilt of his sword, the only movement issued. Time had passed, and he remembered. Two years without it, and yet it was his again; his past.
❝ I remember. You need not convince me; I believe you. I felt it with each strike, the power that drove the Lady of Sabertooth.
The events that followed aside, I do not think you weak. A victory over a strong opponent does not make me ULTIMATE any more than it makes you, who stood as formidable before me, WEAK. You are not. To underestimate you would be a fool’s decision, and I am not one.
That power, more so the the desire to manipulate it, I understand it. You and I, we’re not as different as you might wish to believe. A fine line, indeed. ❞
“God damn right, you should be scared of me.”
✠┊accepting.
A tug at his lips. Not a smile, rarely that, but perhaps a hint of one. Evidence that the Titan of Fairy Tail did indeed feel; emotions did in fact churn beneath hardened skin.
❝ Pierce through the layers, cut me down, what you will find will not be fear, Minerva.
If you promise death, know that I’ve long since parted with my fear of it. ❞
little miss “ i'm buzzed and happy off of two wine coolers and one shot of shitty vodka ” has been sauntering her way around the store for the past two minutes dramatically performing lay all your love on me when she hears naomi's woes. they activate something in her ( if only because genesis is always looking for an excuse to talk to naomi anyway ) and she's immediately spinning around, doubling back while an easy smile finds its way onto her face.
“ socially anxious why ? we're with friends, silly ! ” even genesis knows that's not true, but she hopes it quells the other's obvious unease. she holds her wine cooler out, rim tilted towards naomi, “ you want some ? it'll make you feel better. “ she turns the bottle for a moment to check the flavor, ” pink pina colada sunrise. whatever that means. it's so good ! ”
the music's a little too loud and the lights are doing that weird flicker thing that makes her feel like she’s stuck in a music video she didn’t sign up for. naomi’s in the corner, back against the wall, fingers curled around a sweating can of raspberry seltzer. it’s warm now but it gives her something to do with her hands.
“guess i’m the designated wallflower tonight,” she says with a crooked half-smile, glancing sideways at whoever wandered close enough to hear her. “don’t worry—i’m not judging anyone’s dance moves. just...observing. like a very socially anxious wildlife biologist.” she takes a sip, eyes scanning the room again, heart doing that uneven beat it always does when she’s pretending she’s not hoping someone will come talk to her.
Sesame is proceeding to make biscuits on his leggy, purring softly as he claims his new spot even if he's ruining his pants.
❝ Sure, little dude. Get all comfy. ❞ Ifa chuckles as Sesame joins him.
He's in the middle of tuning his guitar and Ifa plays a a few chords, smiling at Sesame as the cat continues making biscuits on his leg. The weather is nice and warm, the breeze gentle and cool. The perfect spot for a little jam session in the shade of a tree.
❝ ~ ♫ ❞
Now... Ifa better keep an eye on Cacucu... (wrio leave ifa's buddy ALONE?)
❝ Hey now! When this turned into me being irresponsible? It ain't my fault Cacucu's part chicken an' flies off when he's scared. ❞ Ifa laughs, only kidding.
“No way, bro!” Cacucu huffs with a fluff of his feathers.
❝ Don't hafta' worry, bro … uh, Your Grace? I know he looks small an' dainty, but he's always got my back an' I got his. ❞ Ifa explains with a genuine, warm smile as he looks up at Cacucu.
The vet's gaze then looks to Wriothesley and Ifa senses something lingering in the warden's being, in his eyes of ice and Ifa understands; goodbyes are hard, but they are not the end of things.
❝ You ever in Natlan, make sure you drop us a visit in the Flower-Feather Clan. Cacucu took a shine to you also. ❞ Ifa smiles and Cacucu flutters his little wings with excitement, swooping side to the side in the air with glee.
“My little dude!”
❝ Yo! It's dangerous to go alone. Take Cacucu with you. ❞ Ifa totally means it and Cacucu flaps over, squawking a lets go bro.
Ifa flinches and looks over his shoulder. He's use to such mischievous behavior from patients and doesn't take it personally. He does, however, give the bard a sly smirk.
❝ You bored, miss? That's not how you get someone's attention, y'know. ❞ Ifa turns his journal so she may see his sketching, where the pencil in his hand had ran across the picture from his flinch.
Sneaks up and blows into their ear like a TOTAL JERK.
Assassination attempt 24, Sesame is on the prowl. He scoots through the darkness with the utmost precision with the pace enviable by even the most quick and elusive of lions and beasts and creatures and birds. The time was nigh and so was the doctor man's demise. Paw beans fly with the quickness, smacking feet and legs before he pounces and chomps him right on the knee.
It wouldn't be the first time Ifa was bitten and scratched at, the scar upon his left eye and forearm as proof of that. Still, he jumps and groans from the bite to his knee, looking down to see what's angry at him now and there he finds the stray cat he's recently befriended. A feisty one and prone to these violent outbursts as a way to gain attention and affection.
❝ Dude! C'mon! I thought we were bros! ❞ Ifa pets Sesame's head, trying to coax the cat to release it's fang grip on his knee.
Sesame, who transcends time and space, is here to viciously and vigorously slap this new person into the depths of oblivion
❝ Woaaaaah there, lil guy. What's wrong? Hey now, it's alright. No need to throw those paws 'round here. ❞
The vet remains standing still, a hand on his hip, and he watches the feline swipe at him with ferocity and agitation. Ifa blinks his teal eyes, feeling no need to scold, correct, or stop the cat. He allows Sesame to get it out of his system before taking a knee and meeting Sesame on the same level.
❝ Hmmm, I see. Gotta show ‘em you ain’t one to mess with, huh? Always gotta fend for yourself. That's alright. Here, I'm no bad guy, alright? ❞ Ifa offers a feline puree stick to Sesame. Cats love to lick those.
"It ain't that serious-" .. Probably. Thus far since he'd met her she was only morbid threats without any serious execution ( on him; their foes was another story ). "But yeah yeah; if it comes t'that we'll be hittin' it up with the rexes."
That's how him and Selphie were; loud when they were scrapping but ultimately no harm no foul. Can't say that for everyone that rides his nerves.
She can't help but feel that the only reason those two were acting up was because Squall just happened to bugger off on a mission. She caught him trying to correct himself, she may not be his teacher anymore, but at least he was still willing to throw her a bone and TRY to watch his language. "Well, whatever, if you two are going to fight, training center's that way, if you're not, good, just don't make a mess of the Garden."
Honestly she'd pay good money to watch Zell punch out Seifer, but her reputation was already in the toilet, and she had a feeling Zell would lose a few limbs in the process.
"I ain't turnin' down shi-" Shit? Crap? Really, it was hard to shake that Quistis was on their level now than their teacher. He at least opted to choose his words a bit more carefully when addressing those that outranked him.
"- All I'm sayin' is I'm not going to just DECK 'er ( even if she really pushes those buttons- ). She's annoying but not THAT annoying."
Let him 'train' with Seifer. He'd love to punch Seifer.
"Oh? You're going to turn down a challenge from her? That's brave of you."
"Buuuuuuut I'd sleep with one eye open for the foreseeable future, and stay away from any train tracks."
"Psssh. Fight? Nah. ... she wishes."
"If you're gonna fight, please take it to the training center. I'll make sure Dr. Kadowaki is on standby..."
@xgrieverspride[ continued ]
Zell was never one to menace words. What he said was exactly what he thought in that exact moment. So when he finally had caught up with his Commander, one look at him and his statement popped out.
Squall looked like crap. But it was probably fine, he seemed fine; nothing to really worry about and so he wouldn't. That was the thing with something like a gunblade; you cut into someone, you're probably hella likely to get some blood on you when things start getting hot. Most of the time, Zell's specialty had him pretty clean on that front ; broken bones don't splatter all over you ( though some may be stained on the knuckles of his gloves ).
Truthfully though - he would've loved to see the other guy. Squall in action kicked serious ass. Gunblade was just too complicated for Zell to figure out but it never got old seeing a professional at work.
"Hmm, let's see-" Zell fumbles into his pockets to see if he could find anything useful. Became second nature; never knew what kind of shit idiots kept on them. High security his ass. His tongue roves over his pronounced canines, withdrawing some paper with a code on it. Alas it would be just a code to someone's locker rather than the one they currently needed. "Man-!" A point of frustration for Zell. Guess security was slightly better than expected. He wasn't giving too much credit though. This was bare minimum.
![@xgrieverspride[ Continued ]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/aead1013f44571675cabda3149da1b78/f915ffd1a0986ffa-f4/s75x75_c1/9dc056dd889386475491a6ff7e813e12409a0f47.png)
"No luck," he sighs in defeat. "We can try and get through anyway.. or some goon might have the keycard we're lookin' for. Probably someone in some fancy suit, lookin' important.." Zell balanced on one leg, the other crossing over his ankle while scratching his chin, pondering if he'd noticed anyone that stood out that he skirted by without being noticed.
His eyes then focus on Squall, waiting a decision ; try their luck here and now or backtrack and try to find the card.
@xgrieverspride [ continued ]
Zell was never one to menace words. What he said was exactly what he thought in that exact moment. So when he finally had caught up with his Commander, one look at him and his statement popped out.
Squall looked like crap. But it was probably fine, he seemed fine; nothing to really worry about and so he wouldn't. That was the thing with something like a gunblade; you cut into someone, you're probably hella likely to get some blood on you when things start getting hot. Most of the time, Zell's specialty had him pretty clean on that front ; broken bones don't splatter all over you ( though some may be stained on the knuckles of his gloves ).
Truthfully though - he would've loved to see the other guy. Squall in action kicked serious ass. Gunblade was just too complicated for Zell to figure out but it never got old seeing a professional at work.
"Hmm, let's see-" Zell fumbles into his pockets to see if he could find anything useful. Became second nature; never knew what kind of shit idiots kept on them. High security his ass. His tongue roves over his pronounced canines, withdrawing some paper with a code on it. Alas it would be just a code to someone's locker rather than the one they currently needed. "Man-!" A point of frustration for Zell. Guess security was slightly better than expected. He wasn't giving too much credit though. This was bare minimum.
![@xgrieverspride [ Continued ]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f06a15f4378d0734970c4c2f64c21d04/931401a048aaaf91-65/s75x75_c1/6d7be5db449b70a7f24576e662ba8b8612f84988.png)
"No luck," he sighs in defeat. "We can try and get through anyway.. or some goon might have the keycard we're lookin' for. Probably someone in some fancy suit, lookin' important.." Zell balanced on one leg, the other crossing over his ankle while scratching his chin, pondering if he'd noticed anyone that stood out that he skirted by without being noticed.
His eyes then focus on Squall, waiting a decision ; try their luck here and now or backtrack and try to find the card.
"See, it's when you say unhinged crap like that that makes you look like a total psycho."
So really, tools was the only thing stopping her after all. "Probably would'a kidnapped a few more to make a real suit outta it if y'could've.."
"For the record, I was kidding about skinning that poor little guy!"
"...I didn't have the right tools to do it properly. And I'd barely be able to wear 'im as a hoodie even if I did."
"OH HELL NO!" Zell proceeds to dramatically gag. "M'fucker's going to make my lose my LUNCH. Nasty ass." He almost says he'll deck him if he suggests that again. This time he holds himself back ... because Seifer would. Then he'd have to punch him.
.... Then again-
"Get your mind out of the gutter, chicken-wuss. I'm not that into you."
"Man, piss off. You got an inch of hair and call it 'style'?" Probably ain't the only thing that's an inch.
"Obviously you're still on that same dated hairstyle so that only seems fitting..."
" I WAS SOFTLAUNCHIN' the gay ! "
" I'M ABOUT TO...hardlaunch you out the window. "
" I wanna put, like-- I wanna-- I wanna make, like...this one, t' like-- I wanna make it a different sound, y'know what I mean ? and then I can, like, press it. "
" -- like your mom. "
" ...fuck off. "