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#[he deathly allergic my dudes

medicus-mortem · 2 years

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@jooshugaberu replied to your post:

This is how we keep you here. Wheat.

“No. That’s how you kill a man! How the fuck am I gonna get any work done if I’m dead, huh?”

#jooshugaberu #As Planned // IC #Bread Sucks // crack #[he deathly allergic my dudes #also your starter is very good #I am weighing up the possibility of Law walking around Totto Land in his official art plague doctor outfit]

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fiyaerrigan · 3 months

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Peter Burke?

re: this

First impression

oh god. im such an ASSHOLE for saying this but like. I think my initial impression of him (knowing that WC was like, a crime investigation show) was, like, oh boy. Another deuteragonist who benefits from the extant power structure in a story whos like. not gonna understand any struggles the less privileged characters face.

Impression now

He's just! He's just some dude!!! He's stupid! I still think the above part is true but ALSO I have seen him and developed an attachment to him the same way one would a food they love but are deathly allergic to. I cannot let him go. I refuse to.

Favorite moment

hmmmm it's been SO long since i've watched WC outside of gifsets but based on memory alone, the scenes where he's playing off Neal. OH WAIT. Not to be a basic bitch but that whole mustache bit!!! that was *chef's kiss* incredible. OH. and that shit with El's dad??? Prime content

Idea for a story

LET ME RAMBLE ABOUT MY KNIGHT!PETER WIZARD!ELIZABETH and FAE!NEAL AU LMAO

Unpopular opinion

Maybe see "first impression"? Like i feel bad knowing that he is some people's Fandom Beloved lmao but I cannot 100 percent back Peter up on everything he does, personally. lol

Favorite relationship

Peter and El make me believe in true love OKAY BYEEEE lmao

Favorite headcanon

Uhhh shit. I think uhhh. I don't think I have any. It's been so loNG *sob emoji*

#white collar #peter burke #onE day i will answer all my asks and tags.#oNE DAY.

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theyhitthepentagon · 4 months

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can you guys watch my stupid pet bug while i go smoke every time i leave him alone he always starts shrieking and wailing for somebody to be around him because hes really clingy and if nobody comes fast enough he hides under one of the ancient pieces of furniture in my house and it has all the dust bunnies under it so he gets all gross and hairy and hes like deathly allergic to dust so i have to take him to the vet every time which makes him so stressed out that his heart beats really fast and stops working. they have to revive him every single time and since the vet usually doesnt take care of bugs they pay me extra. its pissing me off. i would give this stupid cunt away to a shelter but every time i try he finds his way back to me. just sit with him til i get back. if he starts crying a little just let him play in the ash trayor some shit idk dude i dont give a fuck what you do with him just make sure he doesnt start screaming

#my truth

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onedayimgonnasnap · 1 year

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What’s wrong with Lou :<

You really want to know?

He built like the marshmallow man from Ghost Busters

He’s racist to his own race 🤨

Bro looks like the secret love child of Simeon and Solomon.

Bro dead ass at the end of the day doesn’t wash his hands because he only uses magic to go about his life

I bet he doesn’t even wash his ass.

Bro smells like 50 pounds of retirement home

Dude is a hypocrite because he be cockblocking everyone at the end of the epilogue but I know damn well he’s playing favorites on who gets pussy 💀I know damn well in his own epilogue he makes exceptions for himself

He built like a Catholic priest who steals from the church donations to make a living.

In a event he once brought Mc as a date to church-

He has them old lady granny glasses. He looks like he’s about huff and puff and blow my house down then eat my grandma.

He’s older than Jay. He’s in his Jurassic park era

His creepy ass be looking though the crystal ball like he wants to be the security guard from 5 nights at Freddy.

I like to imagine when he’s having a Vanum flashback he stops and his eyes roll in the back of his head as he falls on his knees like a Wednesday type of thing.

If you’re ever on a road trip with this son of a bitch, he would ask you to play a play list but the moment the music hits its the “I AM A CHILD OF GOD”- playing on speaker on the radio.

Mf has a deathly allergic reaction to tap water, but is fine drinking water from a plastic bottle.

#court of darkness

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myfaveisfuckable · 1 year

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Rants under the read more

Scaramouche/Arataki Itto: Hi so genshin impact spoilers if you care about such a thing but Scaramouche is a little twinky war criminal puppet who tried and failed to erase his own existence and now the world's collective memory of him is GONE which is the closest he can get to a fresh start after a string of perceived-betrayals starting from his creator down to a whole bunch of people for 500 years also he's an arrogant little bitch of a man.

Now Arataki Itto (Numero Uno) is an oni whose parents died when he was a kid, spent some time being homeless, was adopted by an old lady who was so ostracized for the decision she's now only known as 'grandma oni' and also people throw beans at him despite him being deathly allergic D: But through all that he's so so incredibly stupid and kindhearted and sweet and just a whole HIMBO of a man, did i mention he's large and probably has a huge dick lol

Anyway despite coming from the same nation they have NEVER met, but i think they can really be great for each other like they are such complete opposites they can only mellow out each other. Scaramouche can keep itto from a little maybe some of his stupid decisions and Itto can help Scaramouche chill for once in his life. Also that size difference amiright. I heard you like fics so im recommended the entire memento mori, bitch series by anemoctopus AND Making Friends in Unexpected Places (Like Itto's Tits) by TentacleBubbles for two different flavors on the pair (both on ao3)

Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk

raqio/remnan: mean nb + traumatised dude but i think they should kiss + in the canon ending they start a revolution together + raqio looks like a peacock + remnan has a sibling dynamic with a literal beluga whale TO ME

#poll #tournament #gnosia

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simiansmoke · 1 year

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@swcllcwscng

"I do have parents but I don't remember them much as I was only little, I only recall the one I now aid as both my mentor as well as my guardian as the man I speak of is a high ranking General and I am a Lieutenant. I know this all might sound confusing to you but it's all truth, I'm..from a different world to be exact."

The boy explained but as he was speaking, he could hear a sort of angry snort as he tensed right up upon being suddenly sniffed. He held his breath as his eyes shut tightly, he didn't want to draw forth his blades as he didn't want to cause any sort of conflict as he then spoke up.

"I-I may look small in appearance but I can assure you Sir! I can fend against most foes around many places!"

It takes the larger of them a moment to process what the kid was implying, but to be fair - it probably took him longer to reach conclusions since his size likely contributed to longer race tracks through his mind. "Soo...you're an orphan then. Or adopted, I guess." And now some dude was making a kid do some...fighting for him? That would be what terms like a general or a lieutenant would imply. Huh...sounded familiar. But at least his Dad paid his island protection efforts forward sometimes with a big meal out at the dive bar.

"I mean, it's not all that uncommon around here...folks wanderin' in from elsewhere, anyway. You kinda look like'em." Humans. This one's Brooklyn accent was a bit lacking though, so he must be from some other area of that world.

"Psh...you act like you're a real big shot, "Lieutenant"." DK scoffs, circling the kid slowly as he gave him another once over. "But you look like a pipsqueak. I think I need a demonstration." He pauses by the other's side and points to something in the distance...it's a banana tree. "See that?" When the kid doesn't, DK rolls his eyes and reaches over to scoot a finger under the visitor's chin, raising it higher. "Those." Hornet hives to be exact...giant spikey hornets the size of DK's fist.

"If you can get rid of those, then you can be my lieutenant. I'd do it myself, but my Dad makes me ask Mario for help with those...we Kongs are-...kind've allergic."

Deathly so.

#swcllcwscng #//just out with the boys huntin' beeeeeees

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maiverie · 2 years

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triage — ft. lee heeseung (chapter III)

you try to teach the nerd how to date.

synopsis: heeseung is not, by any measure, date-able. he’s dorky, he’s nerdy, and he does this weird thing where he snorts loudly every time he laughs. in fact, he loves everything that normal people are allergic to — computer science, collecting rare comic books, and birdwatching on the weekend.

given that you two have obviously nothing in common, you find yourself utterly flabbergasted when you receive a letter in your locker, on which heeseung has written, "hi. will you please teach me how to date?"

MASTERLIST HERE !

kayla’s playlist (@/miiiwaa) ♡ my shitty og playlist . tags : #.*triage .

TAGLIST

@jaeyummies @enhyflirt @kyleeanne @icedcoffeesunwoo @ssolari @skazoo @jjunis @heejake-en @koroktsuya @jeongwins @tinykoi-s @en-boyz @soobin-chois @blessed-sky @jhyunieee @kisswon @vbxrin @cosmicsunghoon @bloomedberry @jungwonielove @miiiwaa @jungwoniee @lhsng @missharubear @deonuism @sarahxy537 @bambisgirl @hrrhmay-primaryblog @yeonzzun @msxflower @sunsunu @acciomylove @sweetjaemss @seungstarss @tokyoflies @solelyenha @softforqiankun @goodforgyu @va1ry @taekbokki @luvishee @jalnandanz @person-standing @kissomen @auulraual @sonjuyeonnie @yunhowooyo @tomorrowbymoa-together @markleeisdabestdrug @aizzon @sosoa @seventeeneration @ashrocker123

chapter three

word count: 5.6k | navigation: previous / next / MASTERLIST warnings: swearing, (verbal) bullying

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎

the first time someone had ever given you butterflies, you must have been nine. at that age, you were deathly afraid of boys, and yet one of them had held your hand tightly underneath the teacher’s desk during a game of hide and seek.

the physical contact alone had made your stomach twist into a knot, though the proximity between your breaths was what had made your heart thrash inside your chest.

the second time, you were fourteen and on your very first date. you were at the cinemas, attempting to concentrate on the latest release when he’d leaned into your ear and told you that you looked pretty. he was right — you did look pretty, but that was something you could hardly concentrate on given how nervous you were.

you could only think about how hot his breath was; that it tickled the sensitive skin of your ear; that when you turned your face toward his, he’d gaze at your lips and every inch of your skin felt ablaze.

for many years, you collected your firsts, seconds, thirds and fourths, until they eventually fizzled into an ambiguous cloud of experiences; a hazy miscellany that no longer held meaning. now that you’ve gone on countless dates and have had far too many boyfriends and flings to remember, it’s hard to recall the last time anyone has ever given you butterflies.

it’s been so long since your stomach churned and slushed and you felt your heart pound out your ears; it’s been so long since you’ve last felt something.

‘okay, miss sunset! ^_^’

well, maybe until now.

“dude, fine. i’m sorry, okay? you can quit giving me the cold shoulder.”

ryujin’s words might only be a low whisper inside the main hall during a school assembly, but they sound more like a kiss in the rain. you smirk triumphantly, eyes trained ahead as your headmaster lectures you and the rest of the student body about some new vandalism discovered in the boy’s toilets.

“... such behaviour will not be tolerated! we ask that the perpetrators step forward and…”

ryujin audibly groans from your silence. “are you even listening to me?”

“not really,” you reply dryly.

“oh c’mon!” she moans louder, aggrieved by your cold response. she squirms in her chair and pouts at you. “i’m sorry, okay? i won't do it again. i swear, i—”

“girls, shhh!” a passing teacher glares at you both, hovering a finger over his lips. you cast him a curt look, waiting for his exit before turning your head back to ryujin.

you compress your lips into a line, recalling all the jokes about heeseung they had piled on during lunch.

“they were just jokes; we didn’t mean them.” she insists. “you know us! we joke around all the time.” the ends of her lips dip into a frown. “but that’s beside the point. they were mean and uncalled for and i’m sorry. can we please be friends again?”

can we please be friends again? after the lunch incident, you’ve been cold and distant. it’s only been around two days since then, though interestingly your silence is what makes her apologise — not guilt or repentance, just the inconvenience of not having your friendship.

then again, she’s right. they do joke all the time, though it’s not just about heeseung — it’s also about the “weird” girl with a stutter in taehyun’s chemistry class; it’s about the new transfer kid and his ugly shoes; and it’s about soobin’s pathetic teacher and the fact that he has two jobs to make ends meet. their jokes are not new and certainly not exclusive to heeseung — they’ll tear anybody down if provided the opportunity.

and perhaps this is why you’re mad — not just because your friends are mean people, but if the old adage “birds of a feather flock together” rings true — then what does this say about you?

is their behaviour a reflection of who you are?

and if so, how are you any better than ryujin or taehyun?

“look, i’m not in the mood for this.” you hiss, peeling ryujin’s grip off you. “besides, don’t say sorry to me; say sorry to lee heeseung.”

“since when did you care so much about that kid?” ryujin scoffs, offended by your response. “you didn’t even know who he was a few days ago and now you’re suddenly acting like his fucking mother.”

you bite the inside of your cheeks, feeling a prick of annoyance. truthfully, it takes a lot of willpower not to beat her ass into the ground, as admittedly that’s your usual way of fixing things. you’re normally the type to communicate with your hands, or at least with venomous words.

instead, you unclench your fists and scoff at her. “you don’t sound very apologetic.”

“because there’s literally nothing to apologise for.” she finally seethes. “shit, dude, who do you think you are? mother fucking teresa? let it go already.”

unbelievable, you think. after all her apologies two seconds ago. “you know what? fuck you.” you narrow your eyes at her, feeling anger vibrate off every edge of your body.

“excuse me?” she sneers. ryujin is livid. she scoffs, eyes widening in mixture of shock and anger.

“yeah, fuck you.” you roll your eyes, no longer able to disguise your utter disdain. “you’re pissing me off. stop begging me to look at you when you’re not even sorry or you don’t see the issue.”

“are you fucking kidding me?” ryujin snaps. “you literally ignored me for two days and now you’ve got a stick up your ass?” she gapes at you with sheer disbelief before finally snapping. “nah, honestly fuck you too. we’re done.”

you’ve honestly seen better days than this one.

following your fight with ryujin, classes with her as your permanent seatmate have been torturous. in fact, the heightened tensions were so great that even your teachers had begun to notice.

there were many other benefactors contributing to your horrible day — you’d discovered a rotten banana you’d accidentally left inside your locker; taehyun asked to borrow fifty dollars and got pissed when you said no; and this.

this — the cherry on top.

sim jaeyun, that conceited piece of shit!

you angrily stomp your way down the cement paveway, furious from the phone call you had just exchanged with your older brother.

“no. you need to learn from your own consequences.”

“yes. i learned. i learned that my brother is an inconsiderate asshole that blows shit way out of proportion!”

“whatever, dude. i’m not picking you up. just walk home! it’s not even that far. or get your so-called bestie ryujin to drive you!”

“but—”

“laters!”

for fuck’s sake.

maybe he’s not wrong — a thirty-minute walk home is certainly doable, though you’re mostly enraged by his attitude. given that he’s been expressing his disapproval for your friends for as long as you can remember (though you’d rather die than admit that he was right about them), he’s obviously still angry at you for going out drinking with ryujin that time a few nights ago. who was he to think he could micromanage your life and punish you when it didn’t go his way?

now that you and ryujin aren’t on the best terms currently, you’ve been left to walk home.

grumpily, you fasten your handbag around your arm and heave a hefty sigh before trodding along your way. at this time of year, you’re far into your favourite season, spring. as you walk, you eye the flourishing spring blossoms and the leaves they pepper across the cement.

and from this activity, you’re able to drown out the time. ten minutes pass while you silently make your way home, though the sound of a bell ringing garners your attention.

you freeze in your tracks, realising somebody is behind you.

that’s when you throw your head over your shoulder.

what—

you screech to a halt. lee heeseung? on a bike?

you blink rapidly, waiting as he speedily approaches you on his bicycle. he greets you with a toothy grin and crescent eyes, something so contagious you feel your soiled mood brighten just a little bit.

“hi!” he beams, slowing to an eventual halt. you blink at him, shuffling back so that he has enough space to climb off his bike.

“heeseung? hey,” you reply coolly. “what… what are you doing here?” you merely blink, swivelling your head around in an attempt to see if he brought company. as he appears to have come alone, you continue the conversation without restraints. “also, nice bike.”

heeseung smiles again when your eyes meet, causing heat to creep up your cheeks while memories flood back into your mind. miss sunset, video games, and bowties are all you can think about. well, that and the fact that his helmet looks far too big on his small face. and also, he’s literally the only person you know that actually wears knee and elbow pads when he rides a bike.

“oh, well this is my usual route home!” heeseung brushes the hair away from his face, wiping sweat with the back of his hand. “and thank you, it’s my mom’s.”

“i can see that.” you stifle a laugh, noticing the hand-painted yellow daisies along the skeleton of the pink bike. on top of that, there are pink streamers pouring out from the handles. “it’s pretty,” you comment honestly. in times like these, you admire heeseung — ironically enough, he’s not one to care about how others perceive him. it’s courageous, you think.

“do you need a ride home?” heeseung offers kindly, lips curling into a cute smile. “on my mom’s pretty bike?” he rings the bell on the handle once more, eliciting a slight chortle from you. dork. he’s a whole dork. “i’d offer a car, but mom needed it today.”

“hm,” you smirk playfully. “don’t worry, i think bicycles are much sexier.”

“r-really?” his eyes brighten, before the light in them quickly dims. “oh.” his lips sink with disappointment. “are you being sarcastic?”

you start to chuckle, amused by his reaction. once again, you are marvelled by his unique, natural charisma. he’s a lot easier going than one would think; he’s always been open and welcoming with you, and if anyone put in the effort, you’re sure they’d think the same way.

you smile at him. “a ride would be lovely, thank you.”

he immediately brightens from your response. “c-cool,” he quickly nods, playing off his excitement so nicely you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t seen his lips tremble. “a-actually, i… i wanted to offer one before but then i realised i only had one helmet and it was… well, it was on my head. so i went back to the store to buy one. i hope this colour is okay.”

you blink.

huh?

he quickly scrambles for his backpack, which you now notice is visibly pregnant. when he unzips it, he extracts a matte, baby pink helmet from inside.

“y-you bought that?” you openly gawk at him. “what? why?” you ask, horrified by the inconvenience.

“motor vehicle accidents aren’t a joke.” his lips descend into a serious frown. he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, signalling the commencement of his professor-serious-nerd mode. “they’re among one of the leading causes of mortality and morbidity across the world.”

“wow,” you snort. “you act like you’re going to start drifting on your bicycle or some shit.”

his brows furrow, unimpressed by your sarcasm. “we could get hit by a car! you could get a brain injury, or a spinal cord injury, or a compound fracture!”

“oh no,” you remark sarcastically again. “that’s, like, so much worse than a normal fracture!”

his pout digs into his features. “i’m serious!” he whines while holding out the helmet for you to take.

you chortle, already feeling your mood lift. it’s truly amazing how easily good company can assuage one’s bad mood. “heeseung, i think i’ll be fine. you should return it; save your money.” you gently push the helmet back to him.

he huffs in annoyance, though you retaliate with a calm smile.

you open your mouth to eject another satirical remark, except he steps toward you and gently places the helmet over your head. you freeze from the sudden action, feeling his warm hands rub against your chin as he fastens the clip beneath it.

“just in case.” he whispers, ensuring it fits snugly on your head. after your heart stops, you feel it restart and begin to pound recklessly. “there are some elbow and knee pads in my backpack too.”

second. that was the second time heeseung has ever made your heart flutter, and the worst part might just be the fact that he has no clue.

you gulp, feeling the heat begin to branch up to the tip of your ears. you’re too utterly speechless to say anything, so you merely blink and nod quickly. you watch with a held breath as heeseung straps your joint pads on you. this is hardly a task that requires the two of you, but you nevertheless allow him to do this.

when he’s finished, heeseung swings his leg over his bike and pats his hand on the rear rack, which you assume is your seat.

“oh, uh, th-thanks,” you mumble, forcing yourself to snap out of your daze. you plant yourself onto your seat, feet resting on the chain stays on each side of the wheels. slowly, you snake your hands around heeseung’s waist, pulling the two of you close.

he instantly stiffens from your action, but you nevertheless allow yourself this simple joy — because while most boys liked to impress you with their big, impressive motorcycles and cool tattoos, heeseung offers you a simple ride home in his mom’s pretty bike; and somehow, the latter is more than what you need right now.

click!

“d-do we really have to do this?”

you purse your lips, ignoring heeseung’s question. instead, you lower your phone screen and examine the photos you’ve just captured, channelling special attention to the quality of the lighting and backdrop.

what you’re searching for is cohesion — the cohesion of colours, to be specific. after all, the key to taking any good picture is an aesthetically pleasing blend and placement of colours and objects.

“you look a little uncomfortable, heeseung.” you mumble, swiping through your collection, only to take notice of the awkward expression on his face. it’s plastered onto every single picture you’ve taken, though honestly, awkward is a severe understatement.

in truth, he looks… fucking petrified.

god, he’s staring into the camera with such terror encased in his eyes that he seriously looks like you’re about to eat him. or like you’re holding him at gunpoint. or like you’ve kidnapped him and are threatening to cut off all his toes to sell them for cash.

maybe he hasn’t warmed up to the camera just yet, you try to tell yourself. it’s been almost two hours since you randomly rocked up at his doorstep this saturday morning and dragged him out to visit the most picturesque cafe you know — belle epoque; a well-adorned, popular french-inspired indoor garden cafe.

at this hour, the cafe is bustling and absurdly busy, however you’re determined to untangle your next dating lesson.

HOW TO DATE — LESSON 2: create an attractive, confident image for yourself and never break character. like, ever.

“i… i’m not very good at taking photos.” he shyly admits, squirming as he nervously adjusts the black denim jacket he looks quite dashing in. there’s a reason why you had picked it out for him — it’s ridiculously flattering on his build; it accentuates the width of his shoulders and length of his chest. and, paired with dark ripped jeans, exudes a handsome, striking bad boy image he’s obviously not used to projecting.

nevertheless, you’ve come here with a mission, and with the new instagram account that you’re setting up for heeseung, he’s going to have to get used to it.

“i’m the one taking the photo, all you have to do is sit there and look pretty.”

“but…” he scratches his scalp with a finger. “i don’t know how to do that.”

“confidence, heeseung. it’s about confidence.” you iterate, swirling your straw around your iced latte as you return his stare. “you need to sit there and be confident. make this cafe your bitch.”

“my… my bitch?” he gapes at you, puzzled by your words.

“yes, your bitch.” you grin, excited by the image reform you’ve prepared for him. surprisingly, he’s pulling off this new look quite well. he looks great — really handsome, actually. the all-black fit makes him look tall and intimidating, and given that he usually has his hair styled downwards and concealing his forehead, you like how it looks partially styled back. earlier, you had even taken the liberty to use gel to style a few of the front pieces.

heeseung nods slowly at your words, seemingly taking his time to absorb the meaning of them. “o-okay.” he mumbles, nodding more rapidly to himself. “confidence. right. it’s about confidence.”

“yes.” you smirk, sipping from your cup. heeseung mirrors your action, lifting his iced tea to his lips. “so basically you can either sit there looking like you have a twenty-inch dick or you can stay looking submissive and breedable. which one is it that you want?”

heeseung instantly spurts out his iced tea and splutters everywhere, completely taken aback by your vulgarity. you stare at the mess he makes across the table and grimace, while he begins to profusely apologise for his mishap.

“s-sorry!” he squeaks in embarrassment, face turning ablaze as he rushes to wipe up his tea. “i-i was just surprised—”

you can’t help it.

you burst out into wicked laughter now, doubling over in your seat as you clutch your stomach. heeseung frowns at you at first, though soon he begins to slowly laugh with you, until you’re both two giggling maniacs inside one of the busiest cafes in town.

within a week, your friendship with heeseung blossoms.

soon, your interactions extend far beyond intermittent interactions. eventually, you’re texting him at night. then mornings. afternoons. weekends. you distance yourself from the rest of your social circle and spend your lunch recess with him at the community garden. there, you let him ramble on about his favourite bird species and all the behavioural observations he’s collected about the cute ones you recognise. you stifle giggles during class while he floods your inbox with ridiculously dumb chemistry memes. he’ll turn his head over his shoulder and you’ll sneak small smiles at each other, just for the teacher to scold him to turn back around. you complain about your least favourite classes and he’ll draw little comic strips in your notebooks so that they can keep your entertained. you steal his glasses as a joke and lovingly tease him for how strong his prescription is. you divulge all your favourite hairstylists (the ones you swore to gatekeep) and craft him pinterest boards for fashion inspiration. you drag him around the shopping mall despite his whiny protests. he takes you to gaming cafes and libraries and introduces you to all his beloved librarian aunties.

there’s a point where he becomes the only friend you have, and you forget the late nights partying and smoking. soon, you break records you never thought could be wavered — in fact, you shatter your past favourites and replace them with new ones — smiles you thought could not be wider; laughs you thought could not be louder; photos you thought could not look more lovable.

and he’s also the first friend you’ve spoken about to your parents.

“he’s so cool. you can literally ask him anything and he’ll be able to tell you all about it. he’s literally like a walking wikipedia, it’s insane.”

“mm. really?”

“yep!” you shove a piece of watermelon into your mouth and grin while seated at the kitchen counter. “he’s so smart. one time i literally asked him if he knew anything about sustainable agriculture and he went into an hour-long rant. honestly i didn’t know what the fuck he was saying but it was pretty cool he had anything to say in the first place.”

your mother wrinkles her nose when she laughs. “yes, dear. you told me that already.”

“did i tell you that he’s the top student in our school?”

she stifles another laugh. “yes, that too.”

“oh! right. yes. first date tips!” you lower the ice cream cone in your hand and turn toward heeseung. he blinks at you from across the park bench while timidly licking his strawberry cone.

“dress well. smell good. make sure it’s not longer than four hours because fuck that shit. text her afterwards, and if you drop her off, make sure you wait until she goes inside the house before you drive off. oh, and make sure to compliment her. but be sincere; it’s kinda obvious when you compliment somebody and don’t really mean it.”

heeseung bobs his head slowly, quietly absorbing your words. you continue to unload your years’ worth of dating wisdom onto the boy, scouring through archives and archives of learned lessons.

“unpopular opinion, but i don’t really think cinema dates are all that,” you continue while consuming your delicious treat. “it’s two hours and for what? the two of you to sit there in silence? big whoop.”

“hm…” heeseung taps his lips thoughtfully. “so you prefer talkative dates? like, um… sitting and chatting?” he smiles expectantly at you, a hopeful glint in his eyes, though you quickly distinguish that light the instant he sees your smile fall.

you cringe. “oh god no.”

his smile falters. “n-no?” his eyes round with surprise.

“hell nah,” you shudder. “do you know how insufferable that is? especially when all the guy talks about is gymming. like, bitch, why are you regurgitating the nutritional information of protein powder? do i look like john cena to you?”

heeseung giggles from your joke, causing you to smile softly.

perhaps you are utterly crazy for thinking this, but you think the sound of heeseung’s laugh is melodic. and cute. and contagious. and adorably innocent, and lately, it’s been incredibly refreshing being able to see and hear such wholesome things coexist in a world you’ve always regarded cynically.

truthfully, being around heeseung is almost like a healthy addiction — you’ve been primed for badness all your life that even goodness has begun to feel enticing. though admittedly, you feel a prick of impending doom. are you preparing him for a world that’ll eat him alive? that’ll dim his chandelier eyes and rob his toothy smile and stifle his childish laugh?

you know all about what people want these days. people don’t want romance. they want short-lived highs and pretty trophies to align neatly along a shelf, just to discard when they’ve fulfilled their purpose.

heeseung is special. you’re never normally wrong about these things. he is kind, and gentle, and in a single word — good. he is everything you’re not used to and everything the world loves to corrupt. after all, he has the power to convince a stony-hearted pessimist that even she is deserving of this friendship.

“c-can i ask you a question?”

your eyes instantly flutter toward him. you quickly nod your head, watching him with anticipation, though you feel the melted liquid from your icecream begin to reach your fingers. “sure. what’s up?”

heeseung clamps his lips together nervously. you watch as his brows knit together and he scratches the back of one of his ears. as you’ve noticed, that was one of his awkward quirks — he tends to scratch his hair, or his ear, or his nose whenever he felt emotionally unequipped to say whatever it is he wished to.

“um… well, d-do you want to be, like…”

be…?

“be, um… be my…”

be his…?

“my…”

his…

“date?”

you freeze, feeling the world slow into an eventual halt. his date? your eyes instantly widen, though you’re not quite quick enough with your response.

“i-i mean, not a real date-date, i meant, like, date to my aunt’s wedding!” he quickly adds, waving his hands around as though he’s attempting to dismiss a misunderstanding. simultaneously, he may be attempting to disperse the tension circulating in the air. “i-it’s just that my cousin got sick over the weekend, and so there’s an empty seat th-that’s already been paid for, and… well… my mom suggested that i, um… that i ask… you.”

oh.

“y-you totally don’t have to!” heeseung squeaks, brushing his hair down to cover his forehead while redness begins to diffuse across his cheeks. he visibly fidgets the more time goes on. “no pressure. it’ll probably be really boring anyway, it’s just that you’re the coolest person i know, and um, okay, i’m so sorry maybe no—”

“i’d love to.”

there’s silence before he snaps his head up at you. “r-really?”

“yeah,” you slowly smile, nodding with increasing momentum. “sounds super fun. i’ve actually never been to a wedding before.”

heeseung instantly erupts into a wide smile. he beams like sunshine at midday — you smile back, feeling your heart swell with glee as he excitedly grips both your shoulders and lightly shakes you. “r-really?” he exclaims excitedly. “this is going to be so fun! i’ll… i’ll make sure you have lots of fun for your first wedding then!”

you giggle. “yeah, you better take care of me then.”

he nods ecstatically. “i’ve got the perfect bowtie for the occasion!”

though you expect nothing less, the wedding turns out to be a blast. actually, it exceeds your expectations entirely, though you suspect it’s because heeseung truly has made it a priority that you enjoy yourself.

throughout the hours, there is not a single reason for you to not have fun, especially not with heeseung as your date. he drags you around and introduces you to his extended family, simultaneously spilling all the family secrets and the embarrassing nicknames people have collected over the years. you both go around sneaking food into people’s drinks, giggling childishly about the thought of somebody finding a macaroni at the bottom of a glass of cabernet.

you sing, you take photos, and you chat for hours though it feels like a quarter of one. neither of you know how to properly ballroom dance, so you end up stepping on each other’s feet and stumbling over one another the entire time, though it’s more funny than anything else.

eventually, as you near the end of the night and heeseung offers you a ride home — a proper car ride home, as he liked to emphasise — you excuse yourself to the bathroom for one final touch-up before concluding one of the most fun nights you’ve had in a while.

you stand in front of the mirror, staring in awe at your reflection, unable to rid yourself of the most contagious smile you’ve ever worn. it looks like an accessory, given how brightly it dazzles.

how does he do it?

how does he spread so much goodness?

you smile at yourself through the mirror, rewinding the events of the night. your mind seems to enjoy replaying all the encoded images of heeseung’s expressions in your mind — him grinning, him frustrated by dancing, him embarrassed and mortified when his mother told you about the time he cried for 48 hours when he accidentally stepped on one of his ants from his ant farm.

“i love your dress.”

you blink, eyes flickering across the mirror, just to notice the girl standing two sinks beside you. you squint, unable to recall when another person had entered the bathroom. as you stare longer, you then realise that it’s his cousin kim minjeong, who is also a student at your school. truthfully, you hadn’t expected they were related at all, though heeseung had sheepishly admitted that she had begged him not to tell anyone anything in fear of her social reputation.

you curtly smile at her in response, though she stares right back at you through the mirror.

“the green really suits your skin tone. was it a coincidence to match with heeseung’s bowtie?”

you smile affectionately, thinking about how adorably surprised he looked when you rocked up in a dress you had specifically matched with his chosen bowtie.

“yeah.” you laugh briefly, amused by the memory. “i thought it’d look cool.”

“it’s hot.” minjeong giggles, reaching into the depths of her purse to extract lipstick from it. while she reapplies the colour onto her lips, she continues to blabber. “by the way, isn’t my cousin such a loser?” she laughs, adjusting how her bangs sit on her forehead. “my friends recently found out that we’re related. fuck, so embarrassing. literally wanted to dig my own grave.”

“why?” you furrow your brows, though you desperately attempt to conceal your disdain.

she snorts. “what do you mean why? he’s a dweeb, duh. but like, i guess at least you’re giving him a little more social cred now that you’re hanging out with him.”

you feel an unpleasant taste in your mouth as you begin to outwardly frown.

“it’s so embarrassing being related to him. you know what my friends said when they found out? they told me his virginity was genetic and that i was going to die alone because they thought it must run in the family. fuck, honestly, i couldn’t even get mad. even taehyun sai—” she freezes when she realises the name she’s just uttered.

you stare at her emotionlessly, understanding the reason for her silence — it was eventually inevitable that the rumours had circulated back to you — minjeong was taehyun’s new girlfriend. sure, you and taehyun had never been dating in the first place, but you were his longest fling to date, and this was a well-known fact in school.

“um… yeah. nevermind.” she stifles a giggle.

this was the reason why you had been so taken aback that minjeong and heeseung share blood; the girl is intolerable. she could not make it any clearer that she wanted you to know about her and taehyun, though what she probably doesn’t anticipate is that you couldn’t care less about their new relationship.

“it’s cool.” you shrug nonchalantly. “i really don’t care.”

“wow, you’re so chill.” minjeong smiles, though it edges a smirk. “got any tips?”

“tips?”

“yeah, tips for dating him. tips for making him happy.”

you already want to throw your head back and project a loud cackle into the sky. is she purposely trying to annoy you? if she weren’t heeseung’s family, you’d have already demolished her, though you practise self-control given that you’re at a family junction. “i don’t know, be hot? that generally makes him pretty happy.”

her jaw goes slack at your implication while you narrow your eyes. you’ve never been one people dared to pick fights with, so you’re sure to emphasise precisely why. “and another piece of advice, don’t go around bragging about taehyun. he’s a parasite and not a flex, so you’re better off just waving around a sign that says i’m a fucking moron.”

it’s courtesy that you don’t mention the fact that taehyun has been blowing up your phone — in your absence, he’s sent countless text messages and attempted many phone calls. in fact, you were doing minjeong a favour by reminding her that gold-covered shit is still, surprise surprise, shit.

the ride home, you decide to stay silent about what had happened with minjeong, though you’re sure heeseung had noticed her storm out of the bathroom.

instead, you let comfortable silence engulf the two of you while you lean your head against the window and watch your surroundings blur and blend like a speedy movie edit. heeseung drives well and the drive is long, so you even have the opportunity to shut your eyes and capture fragments of sleep.

when he gently wakes you up and announces the arrival outside your home, you turn your head and slowly seat yourself upward.

“jeez. sorry i slept,” you grumble, shaking your head as you brush the hair away from your face.

the boy profusely shakes his head. “no worries!” he smiles. “i’m an exceptional driver.”

“evidently. i slept like a baby.”

“yep, you literally had your thumb in your mouth and everything, too.” he jests. you giggle before reaching over your knees to collect your coat and your handbag.

“in all seriousness, thank you so much for inviting me. i had a really, really great time.” you showcase your best smile, one which you liked to reserve for moments like these.

“s-sure.” he stutters, brushing his hair with his fingers. “thank you for agreeing to come. did i.. um… tell you how pretty you looked?”

“repeatedly.” you bite back a smile when his face falls into a horrified expression.

“oh.” he mumbles, blinking. “o-okay.”

you want to reach over and grab his face. he’s so cute. he’s too cute; he’s so precious and you want to shield him from the world. however, again practising your self-control, you opt for unbuckling your seatbelt and waving at him. “i’ll see you at school.”

“w-wait—”

you halt, a hand hovering over the door handle. “hm?”

“can… can i do something a bit stupid?”

you nod.

“can i…”

hug you?

kiss you?

“consider this my first real date?”

you hold your breath, frozen to your core — you fear that if you move, for even just a fraction of an inch — you will shatter this daydream and be dragged back to reality; one that most accurately mirrors cinderella’s tale.

you’re afraid you’ve struck midnight.

“o-of course.” you whisper, your voice as fragile as glass.

his face is immediately swept up with a bright smile. “dress well, smell good, compliment her, and—” he quickly checks his wristwatch. “a little over four hours, but that’s okay, right?”

“wh-what?” you blink.

“your rules for a good first date. how did i do? did you like it?”

you stare speechlessly, eyes bouncing between each of his, unable to comprehend his words. truthfully, your words are caught in your throat.

“i think your silence is a yes,” he mumbles. “but i also don’t care too much what you think, because i had fun and my date was pretty.”

there that word is again — pretty. his pretty date.

you feel your stomach twist and your heart begin to race, because while you must have convinced yourself that you were far beyond the stage of craving romance — you’re not.

you want it. you want romance. you want this romance, you want the one with the smiles and the giggles and the clumsy ballroom dancing and ice creams at a park and foam moustaches from nice cafes around town. you desperately want this kind of romance, but you want it with heeseung.

because you’ve realised that while you’re a sunset, heeseung is a sunrise.

the kind of sunrise that rises during dawn; one that touches everything around it with a golden glow and brightens any room to the standards of heaven.

he makes everything around him glow.

even you.

he makes even you feel like you can glow.

to be continued.

*taglist is open, just comment or send an ask :>

a/n: OMG HELLOOO BFFS im saurry for yet again another late update 💔 pls don't cancel me,,, im 2 slow at this game 😔 but BUT thank you SO much for reading hehe i will definitely try to update much earlier for the next chapter 🥰 SO??? HOW DID LITTLE HEE DO??? GIVE HIM SOME CONSTRUCTIVE FEEDBACK 😫 also please nobody talk ab the fact that the writing here is absolutely DOG SHITE im screaming crying this was just not it but im.... too smooth brain to edit rn 🙁 but nevertheless seriously thank u sm for all the support for triage so far :((( i cant wait for the next few chaps grrrrr anyway MUAHHH LOVE U GUYSSS sm <33 pls do support me via liking + reblogging if u can !! :> ill try be quicker w the next update !!!

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lucky-cataclysm · 2 years

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Kwami Headcanons

The kwamis love watching TV with Marinette to see what they’ve missed while they were in the Miracle Box. Marinette also made them all tiny fluffy blankets in their colors so they can all cuddle up under something warm that’s sized perfectly for them.

Tikki and Plagg’s first date was when they helped the Ancient Greeks invent the first cheesecake.

Plagg is deathly allergic to chocolate (as are all cats), and as a result, Chat Noir can’t have any of Marinette’s chocolate macarons without throwing up. (Poor kitty. He really wanted those macarons.)

If Ladybug or Chat skips out on the fist bump, Tikki or Plagg will fly over to the other person’s house to fist-bump with them as a kind of compensation for their holder being a jerk and ignoring the sacred fist bump. (*cough* CHAT NOIR WITH ONI-CHAN *cough*)

Forget Tikki - Plagg is the mom friend of the kwamis.

After Alya got the Fox Miraculous for keeps, Alya and Marinette took an old dollhouse that Alya’s little sisters didn’t play with anymore and personalized it for Trixx. Alya repainted it and fixed the doll furniture so it was more comfortable for Trixx, and Marinette made tiny pillows and blankets for the bed and couch. (I know this is what I’d do for my kwami if I ever got a Miraculous.)

Mullo and Plagg sometimes get into eating contests to see who can eat the most cheese. Marinette and Tikki are concerned for their health.

Speaking of cheese - Plagg is lactose intolerant. Does he care? No. No, he does not.

Wayzz loves watching Finding Nemo, especially because of the turtle scene with Crush and Squirt. He now calls everyone “dude”. The other kwamis hate this. Nino is thrilled.

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goldenponcho · 3 years

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Dude! Do you think the RE8 creators got inspiration for Moreau from Snatcher from Boxtrolls?

The whole plot centers around him wanting to be accepted by the upper class White Hats so much that he involves himself in kidnapping and murder and insists on eating cheese, which Moreau canonically LOVES, even though he’s DEATHLY allergic because it’s a status symbol.

When he eats or is covered in cheese, he swells up into this:

And y’all! The movie ends with him eating too much cheese, and he EXPLODES! JUST like our fish boy!!

He’s GOTTA be some kind of inspiration! Right?

@trans-edward-nygma I TOTALLY get why you like Moreau! Cause believe it or not, I TOTALLY had the hots for this ugly mfer! Who am I kidding, I still have a soft spot in my heart for this poor bastard! He’s such a fun villain, but also sympathetic, and though his death is over the top and played for laughs, you really are a bit sad to watch him bring himself to his own demise.

And the hat in my icon? It’s Snatcher’s hat! It’s been my icon since 2014! I thought about changing it but could never bring myself to.

#duuude! I JUST realized this!#how did I not KNOW?!#archibald snatcher #salvatore moreau #resident evil village #boxtrolls

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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No, Bruce! You can’t Adopt her.

This isn’t salt, Cupcake. But I’m going to do a quick drabble of this anyway because it’s an awesome idea.

The suit was a deep dark red. Darker than it used to be from what they had seen saw from the previous news reports reviewed. Her mask was black. Her eyes a startling blue and her hair a shade just touch short of being as dark as night. The girl looked to be no older than thirteen or fourteen.

Somehow she had shown up on the scene just before any of the batfamily could and immediately solve the riddles, freed the innocent civilization, dismantle the bomb with rubber duck and a hair pin, dodged the trap, and was now fighting off the Riddler and his men.

And as they watched her kick the Riddler in the face and then yo-yo away, only to spin around and do it a second time, all the batkids knew they’d have to step in.

“You can’t adopt her, B-Man,” The Redhood pinched his nose.

Robin opened to his mouth his defend his father but quickly shut it. His four adopted brothers, an adopted sister, one sort of adopted “cousin”, and the hardcore way his father had been pushing Luke spend more and more time at the manner to the point where Lucius Fox had taken to glaring at the Dark Knight.

“…She needs a mentor,” Came Batman’s gruff response.

“You need a therapist.”

They winced when Ladybug broke the arm of a 300 pound bodybuilder and slam him on the ground.

Nightwing gave his dad a grin, “I’d love a new sister, OUCH!” His hand went his thigh and saw blood. He glared at Robin. “Did you stab me?”

Robin slowly sheathed his sword. “…No.”

“Let go!” Riddler screamed as he clawed at the floor as the red menace dragged across the floor by his legs.

“Stop squirming!” Marinette barked. “You’re going to jail!”

Somehow the Riddler managed to free himself. Then it was Ladybug chasing the Riddler around the tower.

“Come back here, you fashion disaster.”

The caused the Riddler to pause and give the hero the most hurt look anyone of the batfamily had ever seen on him.

“Black Bat would love a sister.”

“Leave me out of this,” Cassandra’s voice rang in their ears. She was patrolling with Batwoman across the city.

The fight ending with The Riddler hogtied, and dangling from the ceiling, while Ladybug chastised him on the rudeness of strapping people to bombs.

Batman smirked.

“No!” Red Robin decided to step in, “She probably has parents. You can keep doing this B.”

“And another thing,” Ladybug hissed. “I’ve seen Disney villains with more style than you; you walking neon glowstick.”

That was when Batman decided to step in. The Riddler visibly brightened at seeing him, “Bats, I don’t like this Robin. She’s mean. Bring back the boy Robin”

“That one lit you on fire.”

“…She made me cry.”

Ladybug glared at the bad guy.

Oh yes that was it, Batman was going to adopt Ladybug.

Bruce Wayne was going to adopt Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The girl and the rest of her class had taken the Wayne internship program that lasted a little more than a month a half during summer.

Marinette was the star. Unlike the other interns, Marinette was never late. She never complained. If someone needed research done, she was the first to volunteer and was exceptional at it. Tamara, Tim’s assistant, swore by her. The girl took to assisting the assistant to the CEO like fish to water. When they need a big name to perform at the Waynes’ annual charity Gala, after theirs backed out on short notice, Marinette had saved the day.

She didn’t interrupt. She had merely leaned down and whispered in Tamara’s here, who then addressed the rest of the room.

“My assistant Marinette,” Tamara nodded with a relieved smile at the young girl. “Would like us to direct our attention to the front screen.”

They all did. A few months later, the screen split and Clara Nightingale was on the screen, looking as glamourous as ever.

“Marinette,” She beamed. “Love, you are as gorgeous as ever. Now what’s this about a party in Gotham?”

Before she could answered, there was a beep on the screen as another call came in. Marinette scrambled to disconnect it, “One moment. Sorry.” Tamara got up to help, only for the call to connect anyway.

That was when Jagged Stone appeared on the screen, “Marinette, how’s it rocking? And Clara, I didn’t know you were on the line too. Penny!” He yelled. “I’ve facetiming Marinette and Clara. How you doing, loves?”

“Jagged,” Clara beamed. “I’m great. Xy’s been bugging me to lay vocals on his new tracks. I’ve heard better from my nephew’s garage band; and his nine.”

Jagged winced. “That’ll tank a career. Dude’s a sound biter.” He turned his attention back to his favorite bluenette. “Marinette, what’s up? What’s with the stiff in suits?”

Marinette blushed, “I’m Gotham working as intern for Wayne Industries.” Marinette said. “We’re in a meeting.” The young girl smiled prettily. “This is my amazing boss, Tamara!” She introduced the older black woman, standing between her and Tim. “And we could use some help with a Wayne charity event, on the 19th of this month.”

“I’m there!” Jagged grinned. “Hey! Penny, we’re going to Gotham. Marinette invited us to a party. We’re rocking out!”

“I’d love to come,” The brown-haired superstar clapped her hands. “I have been to Gotham yet. It will be an experience. I can write a song about Batman!”

“Well, we only need one of-” Marinette started but stopped herself as someone, Tim, jabbed her in the side. The only give away that something had happened was the slight widening of her eyes and then cough from Tim, when Marinette stomped on his foot. “Maybe, you guys can perform together.”

“YES!” Clara screamed excitedly. “A duet. A clash of natures.”

“Rock and Pop,” Jagged grinned his approval.

“The fans will love it,” The singer looked at Marinette. “Send us the deets. Jagged, I’ll call you in five to start composing our song.”

“Rock it out, talk later Marinette!”

Then the calls disconnected.

“Clara Nightingale and Jagged Stone,” Bruce leaned back in his seat. “Well done, Marinette.”

The Asian girl nodded, “Thank you, sir.” After the meeting let out, Tim, Bruce, Tamara, and Marinette remained behind as they finalized the information to send to the singers.

Bruce noticed Marinette give Tim a dark look, and then were was a huff and Tim winced in pain.

“Stopping fight with your brother,” Slipped from the billionaire’s mouth before he could stop it.

The room froze. Tim’s face morphed from shock to understanding to an incredulous expression, “No. I’m telling, Alfred.”

Bruce crossed his arms and pouted. Pouted. Marinette make an excellent additional the family.

Her and Ladybug.

He wondered how well the two would get along. If only he could get the two in a room together.

Meanwhile…

Lila had been feeding the class lies about her time in Gotham and living with the Wayne family. Alya believed every word, and had requested an interview with Lila’s Dami-bear.

Somehow she’d gotten stuck working in the mail room with Alya and Kim; neither were happy. She didn’t even know where Marinette ended up so she could spin a tail about the other girl threatening her to switch assignments.

The only bright spot was the Damian Wayne frequently visited Wayne tower to learn about how the business works. However, whenever she tried to get close to him, he’d give her a look of disdain.

That didn’t bother Lila though. As soon as he got to know her, or rather the her she’d tell him she was, Damian would fall head over heels.

However, as the weeks went on in Gotham, she found all her plans to get close to the Wayne heir failed. She even tried visiting his home, feigning being lost, only for the Butler to send her packing. Lila didn’t even get a chance to look inside.

When she learned about the gala, she upped her game. She found herself just “happening by” whenever Damian just happened to be walking by. One time, Lila even pretended to trip and hurt herself; only for Kim to “rescue” her and Damian to walk on by like she didn’t even exist.

On the night of the gala, she sat in her hotel room with her adoring classmates, watching it on TV, “I’d have gone of course but Dami-bear didn’t want me to get attention from any Gotham villains.”

Alya nodded sympathetically.

Lila opened her mouth to regale another tale about her and Damian love affairs when Sabrina cut her off, “Hey, that’s Marinette!”

And sure enough, the girl they had all froze out and declared their ex-friend was on screen walking with Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, a beautiful black woman, Damian Wayne, and Tim Drake. Marinette wore a stunning sliver dress that made eyes stand out even more.

“Who are you wearing, Clara!” A paparazzi called.

“MDC,” The superstar answered and placed a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “This designer here. Marinette Dupain-Cheng; she designed all of our looks tonight; including her own. Doesn’t she look wonderful?”

More questions were thrown out.

“Jagged, why a crocodile? Why not a dog or a cat.”

“Damian, who are you dating?”

“Why is MDC with you, Tim?”

Jagged answered first, “Well I wanted a dog. But I’m deathly allergic to fur. Found out when I was a kid. Can’t get near it. Dogs are cool but cats aren’t rock and roll enough for me.”

“I am dating no one,” Damian answered. “Any rumors that say otherwise are lies. Anyone that says otherwise is lying, and should keep in mind I will sue for defamation of character.”

Tim grinned at the crowd, “Marinette is Tamara’s intern. She helped organize this wonderful event. She did such an amazing job as an intern that I’ve had to stop my dad from trying to adopt her.” There were laughs from the crowed.

Damian snorted as they walked inside, “He is not joking.” He was the one who found the adoption papers.

#marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #class salt #ml salt #bruce wayne #crack #batfamily

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justalittlebluetiefling · 4 years

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Friendship, Fuckery, and Fey

Words: 3684

Look, I used the title! I come up with the perfect title and then I can’t write a proper introduction to save my life. Go figure.

Anyway, I wanted to look into the conversation between Artagan and Jester a little deeper and writing is how I figure out what I’m thinking, so you all get this thing, whatever it is.

Disclaimer/Reminder: Dudes, I don’t hate Artagan. I think he’s complex, interesting, layered character and watching Matt play him is a genuine delight. And he’s an Archfey on top of that, which makes him even more complex. I am inherently suspicious of everything, so there’s a good chance that we’re not going to agree on what any of this means. I’ve also never been quiet about my distrust of The Traveler, so this shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone that’s been following me for a while. I look forward to potentially being proven wrong by the narrative.

To quote Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski De Rolo III: This is the problem with fey. They don’t tend to lie. They tend to tell just most of the truth.

I debated how to set this up and decided that I’m going to dissect small chunks of the conversation and go from there. I’m just going to get into it, because I’m assuming that’s what you’re here for.

Artagan: Hello, Jester Jester: Hi. Artagan: What’s wrong? You look so.... Jester: This guy. Here. He’s real... he’s a... he’s a dick, man. Like, not in a good way. Like.... Artagan: There’s a lot of them out there. You’re not wrong. Jester: But this guy, like, this whole island is weird. It’s like opening - look at this waterfall! Have you ever seen anything like that? This doesn’t count as a question. Like, come on. Artagan: That is quite impressive. I mean, from a mortal standpoint. There are some places in the Fey that are just mindboggling. That is - Jester: We need to go there. Artagan: One of these days. Jester: (over each other) Can you take everyone there? Artagan: (over each other) You are welcome to. Jester: Can we sleep in the Feywild? Artagan: I would prefer not to go back. But you’re welcome to go any time you’d like. I’ll just keep my time here as well.

I don’t have a lot to say about this really. It all seems pretty normal. But I do like that Matt has loosened the interaction rules for Commune to open it up for conversations like this between Jester and Artagan. She asked three yes-or-no questions in this tiny section alone, but he stayed around for a longer chat. I... just dig the whole thing.

However, it also makes total sense to me that Artagan wouldn’t have told Jester much, if anything, about his time in the Feywild. Since he has no interest in ever going back. But it makes me want to know what would happen to him if he goes back? I’m sure this has something to do with the fact that he needed Vox Machina to build him a doorway to the Material Plane for some reason that remains unnamed. Matt give me your notes!

Artagan: But I’m sorry, you brought me here for a purpose. Did you have any questions? Jester: People lose their memory here. They could be here for two or three days and then they get stuck here forever. Did you know that could happen? Artagan: I... I was aware. Jester: Like, I understand if, you know, you want to get rid of some of your followers, we talked about it, it’s okay, you know. Like... a few of them could stay, but I don’t want to stay.

So... here’s the deal. I’m going to get into the Artagan morality now as opposed to later, because I feel like it. I’ll get into Jester morality later.

Fey are, in a sense, amoral. Hmm... maybe that’s not what I mean. Their sense of morality does not tend to line up with the morality of someone from the Material Plane. The rules in the Feywild are different. Honestly, I don’t even know how to approach this without trying to apply a human moral code to it. I guess... my feelings on this? I love a gray morality. I love the confusion and angst that comes with it. But like... defending an archfey by saying that they don’t have the same morals as us seems kind of weird to me. That’s exactly the point? They don’t have the same morals as us? So everything that he says should be taken with a grain of salt.

Artagan does care about Jester. I believe that. But... he also didn’t warn her about what was on Rumblecusp. He knew there was a Morkoth there. He knew that people were losing their memories here. And I guess this is where we have to decide why him not telling her doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. It’s more that he didn’t think it was a big deal not to tell her. His favorite. He sent her in blind. Whatever you feel about an archfey’s morality, by our own standards, that’s super fucked up. That’s like you being deathly allergic to bees and me sending you to pick something up for me at a farm that also happens to be a bee rescue place and not telling you about that part. (Okay please don’t judge me for that comparison it was the only thing I could think of and I’m aware how silly it sounds.) Do I know that something could happen to you? Yep. Do I want something to happen to you? Nope. Do I send you anyway? Yep. Do I care that I sent you into danger? Nope. Do I care that it makes you think I don’t care about you? Yep.

See. Complicated.

Anyway, one other thing I want to talk about before continuing is Jester’s relationship with faith right now. She’s been struggling since the reveal that he’s not a god. She’s been struggling since she realized that she needs to put on her mask around him, too. He threw her entire world out of place with that reveal. And I can’t help but focus on what that means for Jester and how it has affected her. This change in their dynamic has been a problem for her. It is hurting her. And she is still frantically trying to cling to her faith in their relationship. It doesn’t bother her that he wants to get rid of some of his other followers, as long as she isn’t someone he wants to get rid of. She used to believe that he wouldn’t do that to her and here? She’s starting to doubt, saying it out loud, because she wants him to tell her that it’s not true. It’s yet another crack in the foundation of their relationship.

And... he does tell her that it isn’t true.

Artagan: You’re not going to stay. Jester, Jester, Jester, Jester. (takes her hands) Please don’t ever think that I’m not looking out for your best interest. And I wasn’t planning to leave them all here. It was more of a backup plan if things didn’t work out well with the Travelercon thing. You have to have a series of layers for something like this. (Jester sniffles) Oh, dear thing. (Puts his thumb on her cheek) I... I don’t mean to put you through this. I was never going to abandon you or leave you to this. If things went sideways when we arrived, I would’ve just plucked you and everyone else of import - Jester: Everyone else, too? Artagan: Everyone else of import. Jester: My friends? Artagan: Oh, your friends? Yes. Of course. But... let’s be honest. There are a few individuals on their way here that are more of a pain in my ass. Let me tell you, trying to charter this many ships from the middle of the Menagerie Coast? Jester: It’s a lot. Artagan: A lot of paperwork. Jester: Yeah. Artagan: I’ve been busy. I hate it. I hate all of this. I’m excited to be done. But no, I wasn’t going to abandon you and your friends.

Oof, okay. My first reaction here was super visceral. This is where most of my distrust started in the conversation, to be honest. He doesn’t give a shit about the rest of the Mighty Nein. That’s not news. He likes that they’re helping keep an eye out for Jester, yeah. But if they hadn’t had this conversation, I’d put money on him only grabbing Jester and leaving the rest of the group. I mean, remember. He didn’t think it was a big deal not to tell her about the memory loss. I’m sure that, in the heat of the moment, he wouldn’t think it was a big deal to leave her friends behind. Jester had to push him twice and even then, it felt like an afterthought. They’re something tangential to Jester. They don’t matter to him.

We also don’t know what the Traveler thinks is in Jester’s best interest. Hell, we don’t really know what Jester thinks is in her best interest. Her reactions to this conversation are where we should be taking our cues from, to be honest. Whether or not she’s comfortable with any of this.

Also, this makes me really, really curious about his other followers. Jester was his first and will always be his favorite, but what if there are a few more that he genuinely likes the way he likes Jester? There have to be a couple. It’s the way he said ‘everyone of import’ that made me start thinking about it. There’s an implication that Jester isn’t the only one on the island that is, however he defines the word, important to Artagan.

Jester: So, do you think we should get rid of this weird Vo-greedy guy? Artagan: Perhaps. If you don’t think there’s much of a purpose or a way to make him useful.... Then.... I mean, what other choice is there? Jester: Do you want to fight him? Artagan: Me? I don’t fight. I... hedge my bets on those who fight for me. Jester: Yeah.... Okay. You promise? You promise? Artagan: I am of a kind of entity that promises are binding. Makes them dangerous. Makes them easy to regret. But binding. And. I. Promise. Jester: Okay.

OKAY. This is where we’re going to get into real arguments, I bet.

Look, I get it. He said the words “I promise”. BUT WHAT DID HE PROMISE?

There are a lot of possibilities here. This is so open-ended. Matt has so many ways he can play this. He could be promising that he never intended to abandon her here. He could be promising that she’s not going to stay on this island. He could be promising that he wasn’t going to abandon her and her friends. He could be promising that he hedges his bets on those who fight for him. Jester didn’t specify. A Fey cannot knowingly tell a lie. Yes. But they are masters at manipulating the truth. If we can’t judge him using our morality, we have to be willing to acknowledge that this probably extends to the way he interacts with people he cares about. Including Jester. Because it’s not the same thing to him. It just isn’t.

So, what does this mean? If he can’t tell a direct lie?

I was aware

He knew something on the island was sucking memories and decided to use it to his advantage if Travelercon didn’t pan out. But how did he expect Travelercon to pan out? What is the purpose? What is the end goal?

Please don’t ever think I’m not looking out for your best interest.

What does he think is Jester’s best interest? Would Jester agree? Is it in her best interest to travel the world creating chaos with him alone? Is it in her best interest to forget him?

I wasn’t planning to leave them all here. It was more of a backup plan if things didn’t work out well with the Travelercon thing.

He wasn’t planning to leave them all here. Again. What is the Travelercon thing? What is the end goal? He still hasn’t said. We know he wants to abdicate responsibility, right? So, what’s the plan to do that after gathering his followers?

I don’t mean to put you through this.

Yeah. He cares about her. He hasn’t intended for his actions to hurt her and they have. He’s aware of this and how she’s upset by the shift in their relationship.

I was never going to abandon you or leave you to this.

He was never going to abandon her or leave her to this. But... he didn’t say that he didn’t intend to leave her there at all. He could leave her there for 50 years and then go back and that wouldn’t be considered abandoning her. Or he could have intended to sweep only Jester out of there.

I wasn’t going to abandon you and your friends.

After a little pushing, he agreed that he didn’t intend to leave her friends behind either. So, for now, the Nein at least have a backup escape plan, although we don’t know exactly what that means. And if they die fighting Vokodo, he doesn’t have to worry about extricating them as well.

I hedge my bets on those who fight for me.

I mean, that’s pretty easy to take at face value. He’s not really one for direct confrontation.

Look. Maybe i’m being paranoid. But Fey always make me nervous. In a fun way? If that makes sense. It’s like a logic game. How many different ways can this sentence be interpreted? What have I possibly gotten myself into? Like... *CR1 SPOILERS* remember how Vox Machina got out of the whole threshold crest thing by stone-shaping a Whitestone crest in the threshold of one of their doors? And Garmelie/Artagan had to accept it, because it fit the letter of the promise, if not the spirit? I feel like you need to always look for the loopholes with Fey beings.

And again. Yes. Artagan said the words “I promise”. But the loophole is literally right there. He promised nothing explicitly.

Artagan: And I’m sorry if you felt abandoned. I... there’s no excuse I can put other than the fact that things are a little crazy right now and I (laughs). Oh, mortals are a special breed. Jester: Hey, man, maybe a dragon turtle will take out a couple of the boats on the way here. Artagan: Well, I don’t - I don’t want them dead necessarily. Jester: No, I mean, that would be - that would be terrible. That’d be terrible.

Oh, yay! Jester morality time! I’m not going to go too in depth, but I’ll make a couple notes.

I love this. It’s so amazing, because you can see the way Jester’s opinion on morality was shaped by her time growing up with Artagan. It’s been clear through the entire campaign. The time Fjord said they agreed not to put anyone in harm’s way in an excessive manner and her response? “When did we agree that?” The way that Caleb assumes she’s sweet and innocent and would be upset to find out he murdered his parents? (That’s something Liam said on Talks, btw, I’m not making that up.) And Laura, on the other hand, is like, dude. Jester wouldn’t care.

Jester’s morality is very much shaped on how the actions of others affect her and her friends. This person is her friend, so what they do is ‘good’. Or, even if it’s not good, she’s going to back them up. The conversation with Fjord in the Uk’otoa temple? “Just don’t be evil to me, okay?” I mean, if Fjord had decided to free Uk’otoa? She would have helped, because he’s her friend. She cared about the way it affected and hurt Fjord more than anything. She doesn’t care that Beau or Nott or Caleb were in jail for anything. She doesn’t have the same reservations about lying to people that others do. (Hmm... someone else want to write something up on the way the different members of the Nein view lying??) She doesn’t have the same reservations about killing people. It’s just... yeah. She’s chaotic neutral. Okay, I have more thoughts on this, but I’m going to save them for the conclusion.

Artagan: The plan was, if things went wrong, at the very least they’d be left here to live a nice life in a village with some people, you know? They weren’t going to be hurt. They just would’ve forgotten some thing. Jester: Yeah, that’s true. I mean, they’re living a nice life and nobody seems to hate it with their memories gone. Artagan: Right?! Jester: But I don’t want to do it! Artagan: And you won’t be! It was never even part of this. I should have clarified it. You’re right. I should’ve been a little more forthright with some of this information. Jester: I’m here extra days! You know? Like, extra time. That’s extra risk! (deep sigh) I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell at you. Artagan: It’s all right. I would’ve come back. Jester: Okay. Artagan: Hey. you wanna see something very pretty? (makes the Tusktooth logo appear on one of the moons) Jester: That’s pretty cool.

This is kind of more in the morality vein as well, but it feels separate from her individual morality. Jester once again asserts the fact that she doesn’t want to live here. She doesn’t want to forget things. And Artagan apologizes and says he should have been more forthright with the information. All while continuing to not be forthright of what his actual plan is.

He also makes sure to mention that he would have come back. Again. Fey can’t tell a direct lie. Maybe he means he would have rescued her right away. But I still stand by something I said last weekend. Artagan doesn’t want this responsibility anymore. If he has to lose Jester in order to get out of it and go back to a life of fun, he would. It’s an acceptable sacrifice to him. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t genuinely care about her. He just cares about himself more. He cares about how this is affecting Jester, but he cares about how it’s affecting him more.

I don’t know you guys. Like I’ve said over and over. He’s fun. But I still think there’s reason to worry.

Final Thoughts

If anyone thinks I’m ever ignoring Jester’s morality, because I think she’s the sweetest, I can promise you that’s not what I’m doing. I think her morality is sketchy af but really funny, the same way I view Artagan’s tbh, but the difference is in how she cares about the rest of the Nein. Which is also what she cares about, by the way. She loves them and cares for them so much. She does so many sweet things to show that. She paints a mural of wildflowers for Yasha. She pretends she’s going to offer up her hands to a hag and tricks said hag with a cupcake for Veth. She buys Caduceus the cookbook about mushrooms, because she knew he loved fungus and cooking. She uses her special paint to create a parasol for Essek so that he can have a small shield from the sunlight.

But she also takes every opportunity to fuck with everyone she comes across. Her little pranks are hilarious, but if you put yourself in the shoes of that priest of Bahamut? Probably not so great. And do I care? No. What I care about is that Jester has fun. That goes for this Traveler thing, too. And right now it’s hurting her. A great deal. She cried for a long time after that conversation was over. If Jester ultimately says “fuck it” and runs off with The Traveler, I’d be super sad, but more power to her. I just want... I want her to be happy. I don’t want her to get hurt.

I guess I think there are two options here. There are more. But these are the two I think about a lot.

One: Artagan doesn’t want to intentionally hurt her. He doesn’t seem to want to intentionally hurt anyone. But when he says he doesn’t want any of the dead. He adds necessarily. If he managed to get out of having all these followers because some of them died. Eh. An unfortunate side effect. He didn’t want it to happen. But maybe he’s willing to give every single one of them up, including Jester, if he can go back to his carefree life.

Two: Artagan loves Jester enough that losing her would hurt him. This encompasses a lot of things. What could he lose her to? Death? Her losing her faith? The Mighty Nein? A romantic relationship? Another friendship that has somehow become more important? Honestly, there are lots of threats to their relationship. And this kind of ties into the way that I think the Nein are an afterthought for him. He doesn’t currently view them as a threat, but he’s also been very busy lately. He values them as protectors for Jester, but she doesn’t necessarily need protection. She’s strong on her own. So... let’s say Jester decides that she doesn’t believe in the Traveler anymore? What would a scorned archfey do? What have we seen, historically, in this game? Legit, I am all about Saundor 2.0. I’m not sure I think it’s the most likely, but I would love to see this play out in their narrative. Because I’m a sucker for angst. Have I not mentioned that enough?

Anyway. I guess that’s it. The message? Don’t blindly trust Archfey? No. That’s not the message. The message is that this is complicated and painful and making for a super fun story, but it really sucks to see Jester cry.

#critical role #the traveler #jester lavorre #cr meta #cr spoilers #i didn't intend to write this today but it happened #yes i blamed percy for making me hyperaware of everything artagan ever says #and wanting to dissect every single word from every single sentence #LISTEN #some of the things i say in here are so dumb like dorky dumb #i am aware of how silly this got in places #don't remind me that there was probably a better comparison out there lol #the bullet list in here is awkwardly formatted sorry

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fatgothgf · 4 years

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since youre a lesbian who's also posted a few times about how hot harvey guillen is i was hoping you could give me some advice? im having a really hard time telling if im bisexual with a preference for men or a gay guy who can just. tell when a woman is attractive. how do you tell the difference? like how do you know when you see harvey guillen that even though he's attractive you're still a lesbian?

i know from experience that i have no interest in being in relationships with men, romantically or sexually, because i’ve tried and hated it, lmao. even if i find them very attractive, which rarely happens to begin with, so i guess it is just a learned confidence in my orientation. sometimes its nice to look at a hot dude, but if that hot dude begins to perceive me whatsoever, i’m outtie. no thanks. any boner i could have had for them is dead the moment they know i exist. it’s like admiring fancy food that i’m deathly allergic to. it looks good but if i get too close i will die bc yuckie boys

i definitely struggled between being bi and lesbian for a while, i had a very rough time figuring out my sexuality and a lot of very harmful relationships. i only landed on considering myself a lesbian like 2 years ago when i was 24. you got time to figure it out! there is a very fine line sometimes, and its fine to just... not be sure, until something makes it clear to you.

for comparison, when i am attracted to a woman, which happens constantly, that whole “if they know i exist i cannot find them attractive” shit never happens. i wanna make girls laugh and blush and feel good. i want to know what their fave color is. men? if they aren’t a real vampire, i dont even want them to know my first name

this probably doesnt help you at all. but like, sincerely, its okay to not know. human attraction is complex. gender is complex. there’s so many variables! and exceptions! its alright to pick a label and change your mind later. its ok to never pic a label and just date whoever tickles your fancy. its ok to try dating women and realize its not for you. its ok to be bi with a 99% preference for men. its ok to be gay with a couple random exceptions! you’ll figure out what makes you happiest, n thats all that matters

#Anonymous

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princecharmingtobe · 3 years

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idk if any of y’all have been keeping up with my D&D game stuff, buuuuut Jack and Rowen finally hooked up!

It was not romantic, and is kind of actually, but we still celebrated cause it’s been almost a year coming at this point lol

So, in this session we went to confront an evil artificer, Professor Wiltmore who had shown an interest in Jack and wanted him to join him at his lab. Jack, also being an artificer, didn’t trust him for a second and with good reason: Dude had been lobotomizing people and turning them into obedient eldritch knights to sell as soldiers to both sides of the war, with the intention of flipping things at the last minute and taking over the country for himself.

Everything went all kinds of wrong. We never came up with a solid plan, just figured we’d get into the lab, play nice for a bit until we could figure out what was going on and how to stop it, and at some point try to kill Wiltmore. However as we were being led in Terra and Rowen noticed they were being followed by an awful lot of guards, which Rowen used sign language to alert Jack to as he is forever oblivious to his surroundings. Believing Wiltmore knew what was up and that we’d lost any element of surprise, as soon as we got to the mysterious locked door Terra dropped a smoke bomb, instructed Roran to beak down the door, and then threw a pipe bomb Jack had helped her make at Wiltmore who was inside.

Wiltmore was VERY upset with Jack for “betraying” him, shouting “I could’ve given you the world!” and then trying to murder him specifically. He also summoned forth a behir which due to some misunderstandings of the battlefield ended up being the main battle. It ate Terra, and killed Roran. Realizing we were going to win though, Wiltmore fled while his beast kept us busy. Jack got the killing blow, blasting the top of the creature off thus allowing Terra to crawl her way out, then when we were out of initiative Jack flew to Roran and cast Revivify.

Things got weird then. We’d been informed that resurrection would work a little differently in this campaign, and we figured it was just a homebrew rule to make it more difficult but the DM told Rowen that as he’d been around a while and seen some resurrections before, this was unusual, so we’re like uh, wat. We found ourselves in the... etheral? astral? some other plane? And we saw Roran, unconscious, being pulled into this creepy black sludge. Jack flew to him in a panic and started desperately trying to scrape the sludge off him. The way the ritual worked is three of us could try to say or do something to try to give him advantage as he rerolled his death saves. Jack, while trying to get the sludge off him, was like “No no no, come on, if you die before seeing your kid your wife is gonna kill me!” Terra tied a rope around him and tried to pull him out of the sludge. And Rowen actually used intimidate to tell him “If you die here I’ll make sure your wife and kid join you!” (oh Rowen...) That one resulted in a nat20 death save. We found ourselves suddenly back in the lab, Roran’s eyes shot open glowing white, and he sat up and punched Rowen clear across the room. They made up later when Rowen assured him he was just saying what he had to.

The party healed up a bit, restored and freed the people they were able to, and looked outside to find that when Wiltmore fled he took with him the power source for the city, which included the power for the force field that separated the outer and inner city, so now there was almost a full on physical class war about to happen. It appeared that the crooked leader of the city had fled with him. The party determined that the heart of the behir we’d slain could be used as a new power source, and after Rowen removed it from the beast Jack was able to install it in the machine and now only did the power come back, but twofold, with the force field now covering the entire city, rather than separating the outer and inner cities.

The party then traveled to the city hall to calm the people, explain the situation, and inform them that new, better leadership was coming. Got a good persuasion and a tentative peace was restored. The party then returned to the Fantasy Holiday Inn, and had some drinks because boy did we need them. Even Jack, who normally doesn’t drink. For some context to what’s coming next: Jack had been in a bad place mentally and emotionally this whole session. He was terrified of Wiltmore, and for good reason. With Wiltmore having escaped he is now terrified of him coming back for revenge, and this time he’ll be the one with the element of surprise on his side. On top of that the battle itself had freaked him out, especially Roran dying and whatever it is we saw when bringing him back. Finally to top it all off, Roran offered Jack some “moon water”, a type of magical alcohol that causes one to briefly relive happy memories. We think the DM thought that sort of thing would cheer people up? But uh, all it really did was remind Jack of everything he’s lost, so he ended up crying at the bar and then going up to his and Rowen’s room early.

After another hour or two Rowen also returned to the room and settled into his dark corner for the night, but before he could enter his trance Jack got up, climbed onto his lap, and kissed him. Fade to black.

To explain: Jack is deathly allergic to emotional vulnerability. After everything that happened that day topped off by the moon water bringing all his loss to the surface, what he really needed was just to be held. But he can’t ask for that or he’ll die or something lol So instead he seeks out what to him is the next best thing that he can reason to not be emotional: Sex. Cause he’s a guy, and guys always want sex without having emotions involved, right?? That’s how he justifies it to himself. And Rowen is, well... the only friend he’s ever really had. Up until now his only close relationships have been parents and vaguely parental figures. So of course he’s the one he seeks out for comfort.

And idk what Rowen thought of the whole thing. He enjoyed it, went along with it, and apparently wants to do it again some time. Though when we went to the next day the DM asked how we were coming down to breakfast, if we were holding hands or anything and we were like “Oh fuck no, we are not acknowledging that anything happened”

#Jack the Artificer

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missroserose · 4 years

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This is Dexter. Also known as Dextertron, Big Guy, The Chillest Dude, Dextronicus Maximus, and various other names that were too fleetingly used to recall.

He’s an old man now, probably seventeen-ish—but when we met he was a young and sprightly stray, skinny and inquisitive. Even when we first brought him home from the shelter, he only hid under the bed for an hour or two before deciding that hanging out with Brian and me (then a worldly couple of 21 and 22, two weeks into our first apartment lease) was much more interesting. I still remember his first night with us; I woke up because he was tapping my face with his paw. Not like he was trying to wake me, just like he was making sure I was all right.

Ever since then, he’s been a chill and constant presence in our lives. With one exception, he’s gotten along with every other cat we’ve had (and there have been a few!). He lets the others fight over alpha status; so long as he has food and attention and a soft place to nap, he’s a happy boy.

In the way of house cats, he’s been battling kidney disease for some time now. We’ve had him on fluids for several months, and he’s been ticking along just fine, eating and interacting and seeming pretty normal. On Wednesday, however, his bloodwork showed a significant uptick in his kidney numbers; the doctor was suprised when we told her that he hadn’t been acting any different. He’s sleepy, sure, but old-cat sleepy, not listless-and-ill sleepy.

The upshot is, we don’t know when he’ll tick over into “time to go” territory—it’s possible the numbers were an outlier and he’ll be fine for a while longer, or it’s possible I’ll be calling the vet tomorrow. But the balance of probability suggests it’ll be soon. I feel pretty okay about it—I think I processed most of the anxiety back when we first got the diagnosis, tbh—but it’s still a sad event.

See, I wanted a cat so badly, growing up. My mother was deathly allergic, so I would play with my friends’ cats, or housesit for people with cats, and that was fun but inevitably I’d have to give them back. When Dexter came home and snuggled in my lap? I was overjoyed, because this was my cat and I wouldn’t have to give him back.

Seventeen years later, that thought feels almost adorable. Because of course I have to give him back—that’s the deal, when you love someone. You get however long with them—if you’re lucky, a lifetime—and then you give them back. And even knowing that their essence will go on to create new parts of the universe, stunning and horrendous and awe-inspiring and humble, doesn’t mean you miss them any less.

Soon enough, Dexter will be ready to move on. But right now, he’s in his all-time favorite spot over the past sixteen years: in my lap, getting in the way as I try to write. So I scritch him around his ears and under his chin, just the way he likes, and I murmur to him what a good boy he is. His fur is still soft and plush, and he butts his forehead against the underside of my chin. And when I pet too far along his back, his tail twitches. He never did like that much.

These are the memories I’ll carry with me, through the next sixteen years and beyond. And I hope, hundreds of thousands of years from now when I am long gone, that the strength of their essence will tip a nebula into collapse, pulling the gases together until they begin to fuse, until the love I feel for him shines out across the universe from a brand new star.

#cats #dexter #memories #my cats #in memoriam

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hang-on-a-mo · 4 years

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Prince!Geralt AU

Ok, ok listen. Listen. Set aside all the Jaskier-is-actually-something-someone-else-AU’s for a moment and consider playing fast and loose with Geralt's pre Kaer Morhen origins for a hot minute. Stream of conscious nonsense ahead.

Maybe a Wolf Witcher invoked the Law of Surprise in some kingdom somewhere without realizing the individual he'd just saved was royalty. Something completely harmless, right? He'd just come upon a lone rider or some shit getting jumped by like, Nekkers or something, and the unassuming rescuee was like I haven't any coin on my person because traveling with such is kind of dumb but I'd like to repay you Master Witcher sir and the guy just kind of goes with yeah ok, surprise me or something. Then like, a few years or so later Kaer Morhen gets a visit from some rando dude from this rando kingdom with a kid in tow.

Cue Child of Surprise Geralt.

So what I'm saying is Geralt is basically Ciri just without all the other Drama, and being dumb and invoking the Law of Surprise on royalty is apparently hereditary (insofar as one can inherit something when one is not blood related anyway)

So we have Geralt the Witcher who is also Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde or something (wheeze) and just the same as always, nothing much really changes there. Except he knows abstractly that he’s a Prince and keeps that particular fact (not to mention that Gods be damned name) super hush hush because like, who the fuck ever needs to know.

And then of course Jaskier finds out and it's all over. Done. He's doubly famous and it's hell, holy shit just leave him to gank his monsters in peace.

But but butt! Then his home kingdom, who has been ruled by the former King/Queen’s sibling (and subsequent kid, because wow, decades later) after their death finds out that hey, he’s still alive!? Is this a good thing? Bad thing? Maybe Geralt’s royal cousin wants to keep the throne, and spends various efforts to have him killed in secret. Or maybe this person is actually decent and is like well hey, it’s your chair, you should have it. Like now. I hate it, please and thank you.

Either way Geralt’s destiny turns out to be a bit of a wilder affair even before the whole Cintra fiasco. But Geralt is still Geralt, and he probably avoids everything to do with That Noise, because he is deathly allergic to any form of frippery.

But we all know that destiny is a right cow, and he probably ends up having to Deal With That sooner than he’d prefer. Maybe his very own inherited Mage/Sorceress sniffs him out and makes a point to try and change his mind. Because you know. They’re unrepentant meddlers and shit.

Dear lord wait until Yennefer finds out.

Your thoughts?

#Geralt of rivia #the witcher #witcher #jaskier #prince!geralt AU #the witcher netflix #netflix the witcher #I dunno man #I just felt the need to give Geralt some sort of existential crisis for once

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