#i spent an unreasonable amount of time choosing these

[pathological-runaway]

i've been trying to write a fic about these two cuz i think they'd be besties but i get stuck every time so have some incorrect quotes instead

i hc flight as a bird lover so... canon?

...and this one aligns with my hc that foresters don't like physical contact with strangers and not-really-close friends

[goldfades]

crazy cat people───joe burrow⁹

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4.4k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you and joe had always been cat people—dogs were just too high maintenance, too needy. but you were never in a hurry to get cats until one night, joe finds a cat on a roadie and decides to bring her home.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | literally nothing but cat dad joe, and dog slander (JK!! not really, but we all know joe likes cats better). inspired by this clip.

The thing about Joe is that he’s always been a cat person.

You figured it out on your second date when the conversation somehow derailed into a passionate debate about why people automatically assume dogs are superior. It started off as a joke—some exaggerated takes for the sake of banter—but then Joe hit you with a well-structured argument about the independent nature of cats, their low-maintenance lifestyle, and the way they choose their people rather than blindly loving everyone.

“You ever seen a cat follow some random stranger home just ‘cause they waved at it? No. That’s some dog behavior.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “No self-respect.”

That was the moment you knew he was the one.

Well, not actually, but it definitely solidified your interest. Three years later, the two of you were still going strong, bound together by an undeniable connection, a deep understanding of each other’s quirks, and a shared stance that dogs—while undeniably adorable—were just a little too much. Too excitable. Too dependent. Too… needy.

“We’d be cat people,” you had declared one night while curled up on the couch together, his arm draped lazily around you. “Like, if we were to get a pet.”

Joe hummed in agreement, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah, but I feel like we’d be picky about it. Can’t just have any cat. Gotta be one with personality.”

“A little bit of an asshole,” you added.

He chuckled. “Exactly.”

Despite countless conversations about what you’d name your hypothetical future cat (the list had ranged from elegant, sophisticated names like Theodora to complete chaos like Little Shit), you never actually got one. Between Joe’s insane schedule and your own busy life, it never felt like the right time. You weren’t the type to impulsively adopt an animal just because it seemed like a cute idea—you took responsibility seriously. Joe was the same way.

But that didn’t stop you from sending him TikToks of cats daily. And it definitely didn’t stop him from pausing the TV anytime a cat appeared in a commercial, just to point and go, “That one’s kinda cool.”

It was just one of those things. A little inside joke, a shared fantasy, a part of your relationship that existed in theory but had yet to materialize.

Until Joe came back from a road trip with something unexpected.

Something small. And furry. And wrapped in the hoodie he had worn on the plane.

A cat.

He met your wide-eyed stare with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, funny story…”

--

It was one of those quiet, in-between days where everything felt a little dull without Joe around. You were used to it by now—his road trips, the stretches of time where you had to keep yourself entertained—but no matter how well you adjusted, the house always felt bigger when he wasn’t in it.

You filled the day the best way you knew how. Running errands, grabbing coffee from the spot down the street, making small talk with the barista who always remembered your order. You spent an unreasonable amount of time in Target, browsing the aisles aimlessly, tossing things into your cart that you definitely didn’t need but convinced yourself were essentials.

A candle? Necessary. A new throw blanket even though you already had five? An investment. A little ceramic dish shaped like a cat’s face? Joe would think it was funny.

By the time you got home, the sun was beginning to set, casting the living room in soft golden light. You went through your usual routine—changing into something comfier, throwing your hair up, and scrolling through your phone while curled up on the couch.

Joe had texted you earlier to say his flight landed on time, but you weren’t sure when he’d actually walk through the door. Traveling always took it out of him, and sometimes he lingered at the facility longer than necessary, just to settle back into the routine of being home.

So when you heard the familiar sound of the front door unlocking, you perked up, setting your phone down.

Joe was home.

You stood, stretching a little before padding over to greet him—only to immediately freeze in place.

Because Joe Burrow, your extremely predictable, routine-driven boyfriend, was standing in the doorway holding a cat.

Not a cat carrier. Not a box from the pet store with a new cat inside. No, he was physically holding a cat in his arms, cradling it like some kind of newborn wrapped in the oversized hoodie he had worn on the plane.

“Uh…” You blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. “Joe?”

Joe, looking far too casual for someone who had just walked into your shared home with a whole animal, shot you a sheepish grin.

“So, funny story…” He shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on the tiny creature, who—shockingly—seemed completely unbothered.

You didn’t say anything. You just stared. Because what the hell were you supposed to say?

Joe cleared his throat, rocking back on his heels. “I found him at a gas station. In, like… the middle of nowhere.”

Your brain short-circuited. “What?”

“Yeah. Just… chilling. No collar, no tags, nothing.” He looked down at the cat, then back at you, as if that explanation was supposed to justify the fact that he had apparently just kidnapped an animal. “He walked right up to me. Super chill. Thought, you know, maybe he needed a home.”

“You—” You ran a hand down your face, processing. “So you just… took him?”

Joe shrugged, completely unbothered. “No one stopped me.”

You stared at him, then at the cat, then back at him.

The cat—a small, scrappy-looking thing with fluffy black fur and bright green eyes—gave the smallest little stretch before curling back up into the fabric of Joe’s hoodie, as if this was the most natural situation in the world.

A sigh left your lips, half-exasperated, half-amused. “You stole a cat.”

Joe scoffed. “I didn’t steal him. I rescued him.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Did you check to see if he belonged to anyone?”

Joe paused. “I mean… he was alone.”

“That is not an answer.”

“Well, no one else was around,” Joe defended. “It was late. Freezing cold. I couldn’t just leave him there.”

You crossed your arms, arching a brow. “So your solution was to bring him home?”

Joe, completely unrepentant, grinned. “Yeah. He’s cool, right?”

You exhaled slowly, pressing your fingers against your temples before shaking your head.

This man.

This six-foot-four NFL quarterback who spent three years claiming you guys would be extremely selective about what kind of cat you got, had apparently abandoned all standards the second a gas station stray blinked at him.

And worse? You were already kind of attached.

Because the damn cat was still curled up in his hoodie, looking completely at peace, like he had already decided he belonged here.

You sighed, waving them both inside. “I can’t believe you.”

Joe grinned, stepping past you and into the house, clearly taking that as a win.

“Should we name him?” he asked, already making himself comfortable on the couch, cat still in tow.

You groaned.

“Oh my God.”

The first night with Miss Honey felt strangely natural, like she had always belonged here. Apparently, you guys had been misgendering her the whole time.

After the initial shock of Joe casually waltzing into your home with a stray cat, the two of you got to work making sure she was okay. A quick check revealed she was mostly healthy—just a little underweight and carrying a few ticks, which you carefully removed while Joe held her still, murmuring soft reassurances. Despite being a random cat from a gas station, she was surprisingly chill about it, blinking up at you with those big green eyes like she already trusted you.

“This is insane,” you had muttered, brushing your fingers through her soft fur.

Joe, stretched out on the couch beside you, smirked. “Yeah, but you love it.”

You rolled your eyes because, of course, he was right.

That night, the three of you curled up on the couch and put on Matilda, your mutual comfort movie. Joe made popcorn, you pulled out the throw blanket you had impulse-bought earlier that day, and Miss Honey—named after the warm, soft-spoken teacher you both adored—made herself right at home between you, paws tucked neatly beneath her little body.

“She’s purring,” Joe whispered at one point, as if he was afraid saying it too loud would make her stop.

You had just smiled, gently scratching behind her ears. “Yeah. I think she likes us.”

It took less than twenty-four hours for Miss Honey to fully take over the house.

By the next morning, she had already established herself as a permanent fixture, weaving between your legs as you made coffee, hopping onto the couch like she owned the place, and—much to Joe’s delight—curling up on his chest while he lounged around watching film.

“She’s got good taste,” he mused, running a slow hand down her back.

You, sitting cross-legged on the floor sorting through your Target bags from yesterday, shot him a look. “You mean ‘cause she likes you?”

Joe grinned, glancing down at the cat who was currently making biscuits against his hoodie. “I mean, can you blame her?”

You snorted. “Unreal.”

Still, you had to admit—Miss Honey really did love Joe.

At first, you thought it was just convenience. He ran warm, he was still for long periods of time, and his heartbeat was steady enough to lull anyone to sleep. But over the next few days, it became clear that her attachment went deeper than that.

She followed him from room to room, her tiny paws padding against the hardwood whenever he moved. If Joe was at the kitchen counter making breakfast, Miss Honey was right there beside him, tail flicking lazily. If he was tying his shoes by the door, she sat next to him, watching intently like she had somewhere to be, too.

It was ridiculous.

“She’s obsessed with you,” you pointed out one night, arms crossed as you watched her bat playfully at the drawstrings of his hoodie.

Joe grinned, scratching under her chin. “Yeah, but don’t be jealous.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the warmth blooming in your chest.

Because, truthfully, you loved it.

You loved that she trusted him. Loved that this cat—who had spent who-knows-how-long fending for herself—had chosen you both, nestled herself into the space between you like she had been there forever.

It didn’t take long for Miss Honey to establish a routine.

Every morning, without fail, she woke Joe up first. Not you—Joe.

You learned this the hard way when you woke up one morning to a quiet, disgruntled “Jesus,” followed by the sound of Joe shifting beside you. Blinking blearily, you turned over, only to find Miss Honey perched delicately on his chest, staring down at him like she was assessing whether or not it was time for him to get up.

“Babe,” Joe whispered, voice still thick with sleep. “Your cat is harassing me.”

You stifled a laugh, rubbing your eyes. “She’s your cat too.”

“Yeah, well, tell her to chill.”

Miss Honey, completely ignoring his complaints, took that exact moment to lean down and press her tiny nose against his, like a little wake-up kiss.

You melted on the spot.

Joe groaned, but even half-asleep, he couldn’t hide his smile.

From then on, it became a thing. Every morning, she woke Joe up first, then trotted to the kitchen like a little queen expecting breakfast. She had a schedule, and she stuck to it.

By the end of the second week, she had also taken over bedtime.

One night, you were finishing up in the bathroom when Joe called out from the bedroom, amusement lacing his voice.

“You’re getting replaced.”

You stepped into the room, brows furrowed. “What?”

Joe tilted his head toward the bed, where Miss Honey was curled up on his pillow, perfectly nestled into the space where your head usually went.

You crossed your arms. “Unreal.”

Joe smirked, patting the mattress beside him. “Sorry, babe. She called dibs.”

You shook your head, sliding into bed anyway, and—because Miss Honey was the most spoiled creature on the planet—you let her stay.

She purred contently between you, tucked snugly between your bodies, and Joe reached out, running a slow hand down her back before catching your gaze.

“I think she was meant to be ours,” he murmured, voice soft in the dark.

Your heart swelled.

Because he was right.

At first, Miss Honey had been a little more drawn to Joe. It wasn’t anything personal—she liked you just fine—but there was something about him that had her stuck to him like glue. Maybe it was his warmth, or the steady way he carried himself, or the fact that he had been the one to scoop her up from the cold and bring her home.

But after a couple of weeks, things started shifting.

It wasn’t sudden. There was no grand moment of realization where she decided, Actually, I love you too. It was slower than that—small moments that gradually built into something solid, something certain.

It was the way she started lingering in the kitchen while you made breakfast, winding around your ankles, soft fur brushing against your bare legs as she meowed up at you like she was part of the conversation.

It was how she started climbing onto your lap while you were reading, kneading her tiny paws into your stomach before curling up and purring herself to sleep, like you were something safe.

It was how she started following you into the bathroom whenever you did your skincare at night, sitting neatly by the sink and watching you with lazy, half-lidded eyes, as if she was deeply invested in your routine.

She was still Joe’s shadow, but you had become hers.

And it didn’t go unnoticed.

“She likes you now,” Joe teased one night, watching as Miss Honey happily stretched out on your chest, perfectly content.

You smirked, scratching under her chin. “She always liked me.”

“Nah,” he mused, tossing an arm around your shoulders. “She tolerated you. Big difference.”

You gasped dramatically. “How dare you?”

Joe chuckled, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Hey, it’s a compliment. You won her over.”

And you had.

Miss Honey wasn’t just a cat anymore. She was your cat. An irreplaceable little presence in the house.

Joe, naturally, leaned into it full force.

It started with the essentials.

A bed. A few toys. Some high-quality cat food that Joe meticulously researched before purchasing. He wasn’t about to give her just anything—he wanted the best, reading reviews like he was about to draft a new teammate.

You had laughed the first time you caught him looking up “best cat food brands for digestion” on his phone.

“Joe, she was literally eating bugs two weeks ago.”

“Yeah, and now she’s got standards,” he shot back, tapping on a link. “This one’s got good ingredients.”

And that was just the beginning.

Before long, Joe was going all out—buying her the best litter (something natural and odor-free, because only the best for our girl), a selection of premium treats (“That Temptations crap is all filler,” he had said, with so much conviction you almost cried laughing), and multiple collars in different colors and patterns.

One morning, you caught him kneeling by the front door, carefully adjusting the tiny blue velvet collar around Miss Honey’s neck.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, leaning against the doorway, watching as he straightened the little golden name tag.

Joe glanced up, grinning. “She looks good though, right?”

You had to admit—she did.

But the real turning point? The sweaters.

That was unexpected.

It had started as a joke—one lazy evening, the two of you scrolling through Etsy, looking at cat accessories for fun.

“Wouldn’t she look cute in this?” you had said, showing Joe a tiny, knitted sweater in a soft cream color.

Joe snorted. “No way she’d wear that.”

Turns out, she would. And she’d like it.

The first time you slipped a tiny sweater over her head, Miss Honey barely reacted—just gave a big stretch, turned in a circle, and promptly plopped down on Joe’s lap like nothing was different.

Joe, stunned, just blinked.

“You’re telling me she’s okay with this?”

“She’s thriving,” you corrected, grinning.

And from that moment on, Joe took it as a personal mission to build her wardrobe.

Over the next week, more sweaters arrived in the mail—different colors, different materials, even a tiny hoodie with ears.

“This is getting out of hand,” you commented as Joe unboxed yet another package.

He held up a tiny lavender sweater, inspecting the material. “It’s for layering.”

You stared at him. “Joe, she’s a cat.”

Joe just smirked. “A stylish one.”

Miss Honey, stretched out on the couch, gave a slow blink, completely unbothered by the chaos she had brought into your lives.

And, honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Three months in, and neither of you could remember what life was like before Miss Honey.

It wasn’t just that she had settled into your home—she had settled into you, woven herself into the rhythm of your days so seamlessly that the idea of waking up without her little body curled between you or coming home to a silent house felt… wrong.

Mornings were different now.

Gone were the days of lazy, drawn-out wake-ups—Miss Honey made sure of that. If Joe’s alarm didn’t get him up, her tiny little paws kneading into his chest certainly did. And if he dared try to roll over and ignore her? She’d take matters into her own hands.

Or, more accurately, her own whiskers.

One morning, you caught her using her best tactic yet—pressing her nose right against Joe’s, whiskers tickling his face until he groaned and finally peeled one eye open.

“You are the most spoiled creature on the planet,” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep.

Miss Honey responded by immediately rubbing her face against his chin, purring like a little engine.

Joe exhaled a laugh, eyes still heavy as he let his fingers trail through her fur. “Unreal.”

Meanwhile, your mornings had changed in a different way.

You used to make coffee alone, sipping it in peaceful solitude before starting your day. Now? You had company.

Miss Honey had claimed her spot on the counter—perched delicately by the coffee machine, watching your every move like an executive overseeing production.

“Supervising?” you’d ask her, sprinkling cinnamon into your cup.

She’d blink, tail flicking lazily.

Joe, walking into the kitchen at just the right moment, would snort. “She’s your little manager.”

And it was true—Miss Honey was involved in everything.

She had a routine. A life. A set of unspoken rules that ran the house.

If one of you was on the couch? She was there too, curled up in the crook of your leg or sprawled across Joe’s chest. If you were cooking? She was on the floor, watching you with silent judgment, like a tiny food critic.

If Joe was watching game film, she’d climb onto his lap and stare at the screen, like she had some real thoughts about the Bengals' offense.

She had her little preferences, too. She didn’t care for loud noises but loved when Joe played music on his speakers. She always sat with you while you read, always meowed when she wanted attention, and—for some reason—seemed particularly obsessed with Joe’s socks.

“She’s weird,” Joe said one night, watching as she enthusiastically dragged one of his socks across the living room like it was her prized possession.

“You brought home a gas station cat,” you reminded him. “What did you expect?”

Joe exhaled a laugh, shaking his head as he reached down to scratch behind her ears. “She’s perfect.”

And she was.

She had changed things in the smallest, most meaningful ways.

The house didn’t feel empty when Joe was away anymore—not when you had her little paws padding around, her soft purrs filling the silence. Even on the loneliest days, she made it better, curling into you like she just knew.

And Joe—he had changed, too.

If he had been a cat person before, he was fully in his Cat Dad era now.

It had started subtly. The good food, the high-quality litter, the little sweaters he kept ordering. But at some point, it escalated.

Joe started carrying her around the house, tucking her into his hoodie when he was watching film, talking to her like she was an actual human being.

“Alright, Miss Honey,” he said one afternoon, kneeling in front of her as she lounged lazily on her little cat bed. “We got options. You wanna wear the blue sweater or the gray one today?”

You, standing in the doorway with your arms crossed, stared at him. “Joe.”

He looked up, completely unashamed. “She likes choices.”

“She’s a cat.”

Joe just smirked, holding up the tiny sweaters. “A stylish one.”

And then there was the Ja’Marr conversation.

One night, after practice, Ja’Marr had made a casual joke—something about how “one cat turns into five real quick,” laughing at the idea of Joe slowly becoming that guy.

You had laughed too, shaking your head. “No way. We’re a one-cat household.”

Joe had nodded in agreement, completely confident. “Yeah, no shot.”

But then… a week later, he changed his tune.

You were curled up together on the couch, Miss Honey stretched between you, when Joe sighed, absentmindedly running his fingers down her back.

“She’s kinda lonely,” he mused.

You blinked. “What?”

Joe glanced over, tilting his head toward Miss Honey, who was currently kneading her little paws into his thigh. “I mean, she’s got us, but, like… I bet she’d like a friend.”

You stared at him, narrowing your eyes. “Joe.”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, tone easy, like he wasn’t suggesting something huge. “She’s got so much energy. I think she’d like a buddy.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my God.”

Joe grinned. “Just think about it.”

And just like that, the conversation had started. And you had been so firm about it. Absolutely not. No second cat.

Miss Honey was thriving—happy, healthy, and fully attached to both of you. The idea of bringing another cat into the house felt risky. What if she didn’t like it? What if she got territorial? What if she felt betrayed?

Joe, of course, had started planting the idea like a damn politician.

“I just think she gets bored sometimes,” he would say casually while Miss Honey chased her own tail in the living room.

“She’s got a lot of love to give,” he mused one night, watching her rub up against every single one of your ankles like she was making the rounds.

“She needs a little sidekick,” he argued as she sprawled out dramatically on the kitchen floor, meowing at nothing in particular.

You shot him down every time.

Until, of course, fate decided to step in.

It was a random Saturday, and you and Joe were out running errands—nothing special, just a casual grocery run. You had been debating what kind of bread to get (Joe insisted the multigrain one tasted just as good as white bread, which was a blatant lie), when something caught his eye.

“Babe,” Joe said, suddenly abandoning the cart and heading toward the entrance. “Look.”

You turned, frowning as you followed his gaze.

Right outside the store, under a big white tent, was a cat rescue group—volunteers standing beside crates filled with tiny, curious faces.

A pet adoption event.

Joe immediately turned to you, eyes lighting up. “This is a sign.”

“No, it’s not,” you argued, grabbing the cart. “It’s just Saturday.”

“It’s a sign.”

You groaned as he practically dragged you toward the tent, already grinning like he had just won the lottery.

And then you saw them.

The kittens.

Tiny, wiggly little things with big eyes and oversized paws, rolling around in their blankets or climbing the sides of their enclosures with impressive determination.

You told yourself you were just looking.

Joe was crouched down almost immediately, eyes scanning the different crates as the volunteers smiled at him.

“You guys looking to adopt?” one of them asked.

Joe grinned. “Maybe.”

You shot him a glare. “We are not looking to—”

And then you saw her.

A tiny gray tabby, tucked in the corner of her crate, nibbling sleepily at her own paw. Big round eyes, the softest little face, and an expression that screamed, Yeah, I know I’m cute.

You inhaled sharply.

“Oh no,” Joe murmured, catching the look on your face.

You glanced at him, then back at the kitten.

“… I wanna hold her.”

Joe grinned. “Knew it.”

The second the volunteer placed the kitten in your hands, you were done for. She was so small, her little body barely bigger than your palm. She meowed—tiny and sweet—before immediately nuzzling into the crook of your neck, purring like she had just found home.

Joe, watching intently, exhaled a laugh. “Oh yeah. We’re done for.”

That night, you walked into your house as a two-cat household.

Miss Honey was not immediately sold.

The introduction process was slow—gentle, cautious. You followed all the steps, kept them separated at first, let them get used to each other’s scent. But, much to your surprise, Miss Honey didn’t react with any real aggression.

Mostly? She just seemed deeply confused.

The first time she saw the kitten, she just stared, tail flicking, as if she couldn’t believe her eyes.

Joe, crouched beside her, grinned. “You got a little sister, Honey.”

Miss Honey turned her head, fixing him with a look.

You laughed. “I don’t think she asked for one.”

Still, within a few days, things started shifting.

The kitten—who you decided to name Fig—was relentless in her pursuit of Miss Honey’s love.

She followed her everywhere, mimicked her every move, and—on more than one occasion—attempted to curl up against her, only to be met with a single, unimpressed flick of the tail.

But then, one morning, you woke up to find them curled up together on the couch—Miss Honey’s paw resting protectively over Fig’s tiny little body.

Joe, standing beside you, smirked. “Told you she needed a buddy.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt full.

And that’s how you and Joe became crazy cat people.

[casualmonsterenjoyer]

So, I have no idea if anyone has already figured this out but I have just spent an unreasonable amount of time translating this part of the Soul Contract...just because

and like...

You are now twenty-one grams lighter

THIS CONTRACT IS LEGAL AND BINDING. WE RESERVE THE RIGHT TO USE YOUR LIKENESS, FACE, VOICE AND SMELL TOWN PLUCK IN WHATEVER NEFARIOUS MANNER IS DEEMED NECESSARY.

SANS SOUL, YOUR SOULMATE WILL NOT RECOGNIZE YOU AND WILL WALK RIGHT PAST YOU ON A COLD AUTUMN DAY. NEVER MAKING EYE CONTACT. NOT EVEN PROCESSING THAT YOU HAVE EYES AT ALL. NO AMOUNT OF INTERACTION WILL MOVE THEM TO A PLACE WHERE THEY CAN REMEMBER, IN FEELING, THE THOUSANDS OF LIFETIMES YOU HAVE ALREADY SPENT TOGETHER. EACH TIME CHOOSING THOUSANDS FORM WOULD KEEP YOU CLOSEST LIKE OTTERS HOLDING HANDS IN A TUMULTUOUS RIVER. YOU WERE BIRDS. YOU WERE TREES WITH ROOTS ENTANGLED, DRINKING IN THE SUNLIGHT TOGETHER.

WHEREVER WE GO NEXT, WHATEVER YOU CHOOSE, I WILL ALWAYS BE RIGHT THERE WITH YOU…THATS DONE, BUDDY. CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE CHOSEN BILL INSTEAD!

MCDONALDS RESERVES THE RIGHT TO PUT A GIANT YELLOW M ON YOUR TORSO AND FOREHEAD AND SEND YOU WALKING THROUGH A CROWDED TIMES SQUARE WHILE YOU SCREAM "THE FRIES! THE FRIES! THEY DON´T DEGRADE IN NATURE!!! IT´S AN IMMORTAL FOOD!!! THEY WILL BE IN THE LANDFILLS LONG PAST OUR DEATHS!" GOOD GOD! THE THINGS S I´VE SEEN!

ME? WHO AM I? OH I´M BILL´S PREVIOUS LAWYER! HE PUT MY SOUL INTO A QUILL PEN SO I CAN WRITE HIM LEGAL DOCUMENTS UNTIL THE SUN SNUFFS OUT LIKE A CANDLE IN THIS SICK UNIVERSE! I USED TO BE SO HOT! I WAS SO FINE! NOW I´M FINE PRINT!

SPEAKING OF WHICH, BILL RESERVES THE RIGHT TO PUT YOUR SOUL INTO AN INANIMATE OBJECT, A STRANGE CREATURE, A CONCEPT, A SENTENCE, A TASTEFUL BUT RUSTIC MASON JAR WITH WILDFLOWERS IN IT.

IF AT ANY POINT YOU WANT TO HAVE VISITATION RIGHTS WITH YOUR SOUL, YOU WILL BE SWIFTLY DENIED. UNLESS YOU HAD A COOL DAY PLANNED FOR THE BOTH OF YOU, THEN BILL MIGHT WANT TO COME ALONG.

BY SIGNING THIS DOCUMENT YOU FORFEIT ANY RIGHT TO EATING SOUL FOOD. IT WILL TURN TO ASH IN YOUR MOUTH, A FITTING PUNISHMENT FOR A FOOL WHO SQUANDERED THE ONLY TRUE GIFT LIFE OWES YOU.

BILL RESERVES THE RIGHT TO DRESS YOUR SOUL HOWEVER HE DEEMS NECESSARY, ESPECIALLY IF YOUR SOUL WAS A NERD BEFORE ACQUISTION. SOULMAKOVERRR!

YOUR SOUL MAY BECOME FRACTURED AND PLACED INTO DIFFERENT OBJECTS. THIS HAS NO PURPOSE AND WILL NOT RESURRECT YOU IF YOU DIE.

SIGNEE HAS FORFEITED ALL RIGHTS TO ANY AFTERLIFE. INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO: HEAVEN, HELL, PURGATORY, BIG CORNER, FLOW STATE, THE DREAM HOUSE, THE REINCARNATION PROCESSING CENTER, AXOLOTL´S TANK AND CONSEQUENCES HOLE.

SIGNEE CAN NO LONGER BOARD THE SOUL TRAIN AND IS ADVISED TO DISCARD ALL BELLBOTTOMS.

SIGNEE CAN NO LONGER HAVE A PUPPY AS A BEST FRIEND, THEY CAN SENSE WHAT IS GONE. BATS ARE INDIFFERENT.

SIGNEE MAY EXPERIENCE OCCASIONAL DEMON POSSESSIONS FROM HORCULUS THE RED, PLABOS THE MERCILESS, MORBUS SON OF MORTEM, PLAGA THE OOAING AND OTHER SUCH COMMON DEMONS ROAMING EARTH SEARCHING FOR WEAKENED, EMPTY VESSELS!

TIPS FOR RIPPING YOUR SOUL OUT AT HOME: WATCHING YOUTUBE COMMENTARY CHANNELS, ATTENDING AN EXTENDED FAMILY EVENT WITH AN OPEN BAR, USING GENERATIVE AI AND ASSERTING THAT YOU ARE CREATIVE, TURNING A BLIND EYE TO HUMAN SUFFERING, AMASSING MORE WEALTH THAN NEEDED, PURCHASING A BLUE CHECKMARK...

I had fun with this and yeah...rip to anyone who signed (me included, I would have loved to visit axolotl´s tank...)

[aledmorningstar]

╰┈➤Bad joke

Summary: Sukuna discovers that you don't like jokes.

Relationship: Ryomen Sukuna/Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Note: Slow updates, my editor and I are in a fight with my university administrators.

-‘๑’-: No curses au, uni au, sfw, humor, fluff, slight angst

The terrible hours of class had finally ended, the hard day of university had culminated its torture at 6:00 pm, every day you reconsidered the idea of ​​continuing studying so intensely, did you really need that university degree?

Without a doubt, life sounded more beautiful in an imaginary world, being a pretty housewife who patiently waited for her millionaire husband who loved her madly, your days would be spent helping your children with their homework and wasting an unreasonable amount of money on any whim.

“We've told you to stop daydreaming, it could be dangerous in the wrong places.”

Your daydream was interrupted by one of your best friends, it seemed like your group of friends had already finished putting away their belongings and were just waiting for you to leave the classroom.

"Oh I'm sorry. I was just thinking about the future."

“Is the young lady returning to the fantasy of married life with her impolite boyfriend?”

"Hey! I already told you not to talk about him like that."

You argue while you put your notebooks and computer in your bag, the one that your boyfriend Ryomen had given you on your birthday even though you told him that a gift was not necessary, you knew how difficult it must be for him and how limited which can sometimes be the money in your situation; his mother, playing the role of both parents and trying to provide a bright future for her children; Yuji, his twin who had to complete several courses to be a firefighter and also study a Bachelor's degree in automotive mechanics; and finally Ryomen himself, who had to complete his university career as a lawyer.

It was definitely not easy for him or his family, unlike you, who had lived the life of a princess in an imaginary bubble impenetrable by the dangers and worries of reality. Even though you had insisted on helping that modest family financially, you were not allowed to do so. Both Sukuna and his brother and mother refused to accept a cent of your generous support, saying that they did not want to take advantage of your kindness. That did not stop them from you gave expensive gifts to each one on special dates.

Maybe that was the reason behind that expensive gift from your boyfriend, one day he simply listened to you talk about that beautiful designer bag that was going to become fashionable with its next release on sale, he used all his savings and even did part-time jobs, washing cars, walking dogs, helping model clothes for the fashion design department; just to be able to see a cute and excited smile on your face.

You are a princess, the most beautiful flower he could find and of course he would give you everything you deserve, everything that fine society has given you and he does his best so that you do not have any lack by his side, to be worthy of you.

You didn't have the heart to tell him that you had pre-ordered that bag thanks to your father's contacts and that you had to refund it, angering some merchants for their wasted efforts.

“Hurry up, if we don't get to the cafe on time the tables will be full.”

Like every Friday you and your friends got together to talk about the latest news in your lives, your social circle was mostly made up of girls just as privileged as you, it wasn't difficult for your father to convince you to choose a career in law, much less make you enter one of the most demanding and prestigious schools in the country.

Your friends are good girls, you knew that otherwise you wouldn't have even looked at them; However, like you, they were overprotected and followed the sophisticated rules that society had imposed on them. This was one of the reasons why they didn't quite agree with your relationship with Ryomen Sukuna, a commoner in their eyes.

Like any conversation between friends, the topic of boys and relationships could not be avoided, a topic in which you came to light with your strange relationship of “opposite poles”, the little princess of the city and the delinquent of the campus, it was the funniest and most interesting experiment your friends could witness.

“So… How is our little princess's relationship going? Did he already ruin it?”

Of course there were going to be silly comments that doubted that your relationship was authentic and that waited for the slightest mistake from your boyfriend to shout in your face “I told you so.”

"No and he won't, you don't know my 'kuna"

“We know his history”

Even though all your friends were always supportive and kind to you, there was one in particular who wasn't very nice. Ann, always making sarcastic comments and believing herself to be better than everyone, everyone could see how jealous she was of you; She had been the last to join the group, one day you saw her alone and decided to integrate her into your group, unfortunately you never found the words to tell her that you no longer wanted to be her friend.

“Come on, darling, everyone here remembers how your relationship began.”

“He has changed, he is not the same person he was before, he is a new man”

Sure, your relationship may not have started off in the most convincing way possible, there were lies, misunderstandings and a lot of tears, but everything is different now. Now you have the romance that any girl could dream of, one full of love, affection and trust of those you only find in books, you would have your happily ever after.

“Well, I'll wait for your bad boy to do one of his things and don't say I didn't warn you.”

"When pigs fly, that's not going to happen"

The atmosphere had frozen in an awkward silence as you and Ann exchanged a big forced smile, it was strange to see you angry because of your sweet personality, but it would certainly be even stranger not to see you jump into an argument that included Ryomen Sukuna's name, you are his unofficial lawyer.

“Okay girls, let's talk about something else…”

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

You love Fridays, the best day of the week, since you could sleep over at your loved one's house and enjoy the weekend in his arms watching movies, doing puzzles, taking photos, listening to music, talking, watching videos, going out on dates, ordering takeout or even when he played a video game on the console and you were left coloring the pictures he printed for you (sometimes he needs his space).

That Friday the drawings were finished quickly, so you decided to watch some videos on your tiktok while Sukuna played a video game that you only knew had weapons because of the shots. The videos on your fyp were about pranks between couples (something that amused you), some light and others a little harsh.

Sukuna was someone who was a joker, someone who liked to make jokes but couldn't stand having one played on him; However, you were a couple, a slight joke between you could be kind of funny, it wasn't even a funny joke you just wanted to see how funny his reaction could be.

A message made Sukuna's phone ring, you thought it was the perfect time for your little act as you held back your laughter.

“Who is sending you so many messages? You have another girl, right?”

Your comment surprised Sukuna slightly, you weren't the jealous type, he looked at you for a split second and that was enough for him to know you were joking, he can play too.

"Oh my love. It's not even one girl, they´re five precious ones."

The amused smile that adorned your face disappeared in an instant, being replaced by a strange grimace, your eyes glistening from the tears that formed and that you refused to let go as you bit your trembling lower lip, preventing any sound.

"Really?"

“Of course, pretty. I'm too cool to stay with just one girl."

Memories of your conversation with Ann invaded your mind, Sukuna Ryomen had a past that was difficult to overcome, would he really change overnight for you?

Your boyfriend quickly realized that you had started packing your belongings back into your suitcase, why would you do that? The plan was that you would stay with him like every weekend, what was happening?

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

Well, you had dropped a little bomb that exploded in your face and you didn't like it, but you wouldn't let him notice that it dealt a low blow at least for you.

“I'm just putting my things away. “Can you pass me my colored pencils?”

Sukuna decided to make the difficult decision to abandon his game and pay attention to the seemingly serious situation that was occurring with his beloved.

He did as you asked, you put away your colored pencils next to your other belongings with quick movements and finally wrote something furiously on your phone.

“I asked you a question, what are you doing?”

“Nothing… I'm asking my driver to come pick me up.”

"Now?"

“Yes, now. In fact I'm writing to him 'Please hurry up, I want to leave here right now, come as fast as you can'”

You could barely feel the force and speed with which Ryomen snatched the phone from your hands, he stood up and placed your phone on one of the highest pieces of furniture in the living room.

"Why would you do that?"

"What do you mean why? Did you hear what you said earlier?”

The hardest question you can ask a man, ask him the reason why his girlfriend was angry. The pink-haired man's reasoning quickly went to work.

Connect the dots, you had gotten angry within a period of 5 minutes, you weren't angry with him before that time, all he had done was play video games. Had that bothered you? No, he had given you drawings of your favorite characters to entertain you, the only thing he had done besides playing had been answering your joke... Oh.

“Ah, that's it.”

“Is that all you will say?”

Okay, a mental note for Sukuna: You like making jokes, you don't like having them made or returned to you. You're a crybaby, but he still loves you.

“Sorry, love, it was a joke. You know that I only love you, you are the only girl who occupies my heart, the owner of my soul and my body, I would kill for you, ask me to kill for you."

Ryomen approached to hug you from behind, he placed one of his hands on your abdomen and one on your shoulder, crossing your chest to bring you closer to him, you could feel his breath on your neck and after a few seconds you shivered from the kisses he gave you. he left on your cheek.

“I didn't find your joke funny.”

“In my defense, you started joking that I had another woman. You’re a baby, jokes aren’t your thing, darling.”

The look on your face made him feel like he had just kicked a puppy, his solution was to carry you back to the couch and hold you in his arms.

"I'm sorry baby. You can choose the movie we watch today, deal?”

"Deal"

⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭 master list is here

[skeedelvee]

Carry On Countdown Day 4 - Daydreaming

For this year's COC I've decided to put together daily fic rec lists! Let me know if you find any new favorite reads from these <3

For todays prompt I've gone with fics that involve dreaming

A Dream is a Wish by @dragoneggos

Rated T, 17,239 words

This one is really sweet! Dream friends to dream lovers to real life lovers ❤️

"I began to cherish the time we had, the few hours in a day where I could pretend I didn’t hate him, where it wasn’t Agatha’s hand I was holding, but his. Where I could watch him unabashedly, and whisper nonsense to him until the sky opened to the sun. I dreaded the coming of day. In the darkness, we could pretend." Simon Snow doesn't know who the boy who's been haunting his dreams is. But Baz Pitch knows. Baz knows that it's been Simon the whole time. Simon he's been sharing dreams with, sharing everything with since they were eight years old. But how do you tell your arch nemesis that it was you who held them while they cried? It's even harder to tell them, when you've been kidnapped by numpties.

I'd Gladly Eat You for Breakfast by @whogaveyoupermission

Rated M, 6,981 words

Always love a good sex dream fic and this one’s great

When Simon has a sex dream, Baz asks for a demonstration.

Gates of Ivory and Horn by @aristocratic-otter

Rated E, 16,094 words

This one’s dream-ish, but I think it counts! Simon is shown two visions of the future and has to pick which ones real. SO GOOD!

Simon Snow falls to a Humdrum attack and is locked in a deadly dream. To survive, he has to choose the dream that is true. But Simon's not historically been good at recognising lies...

Cumdrop Buttons by @martsonmars

Rated E, 4,427 words

Simon has always been food motivated, so this fic is so him. And great for the holiday season! 🎄

“So good,” he whispers, lips wet and shining with saliva and precome. “You taste so good. I want to swallow you whole.” I shouldn’t find this as erotic as I do, but this is Simon, and of course eating people turns out to be a huge turn on for him. (I should add cannibalism to the list of his love languages, right next to homicide.) When Simon wakes up from a biscuit-themed wet dream, Baz has no other choice but to indulge him and roleplay his own "demise by mastication".

A Restless Mind by Theweatherbee

Rated E, 21,360 words

Dreaming and daydreaming in this one! Truly excellent! Pining Simon is the best

He was staring at Baz's legs, at his footwork, at his legs again, at his arms, and his legs just a little bit more, and then his face—he was staring at Baz like he’d never seen him before, which was ridiculous, because he’d spent most of his academic career staring at him. And then Coach Mac blew the whistle and Baz jogged to a stop, breathing heavily, and he pulled up his jersey to wipe the sweat off his face, and Simon's insides were performing some complicated acrobatics as he stared helplessly at Baz's stomach. A thought came to Simon, unasked for, something that hit both like a realization and like something he had always known. Baz was proper fucking fit. Baz was unreasonably fit. Baz was...Baz was looking right at him. In which Simon has a dream that has him looking differently at Baz. Baz notices.

✨Gratuitous self rec✨

Buttered Up by me! @skeedelvee

Rated E, 799 words

Baz and butter? It’s Simon’s perfect dream! 😂

Simon has a dream, it involves a gratuitous amount of butter and a tiny Baz Pitch.

If you have any recs that fit the prompt that I've missed, feel free to leave them in the comments! There's plenty of gaps in my reading so there's a good chance I may not have read it.

Also I've had a hard time finding if some people are here on Tumblr, so if you know someone who hasn't been tagged, feel free to leave that in the comments as well <3

@carryon-countdown

[xxcrystalinerose]

In celebration of me officially reaching 100 HOURS of fucking around in Hades 2, here's a couple of general gameplay tips from yours truly!

Preface

I am not the best Hades gamer out there, but I'd like to think I'm doing pretty good considering my still-standing 25+ win streak in the Underworld and 16 Fear clear on all weapon types, so this tip is meant for you guys who find Hades 2 weirdly difficult compared to the first game (I've been there!), or those who still haven't figured out good build and aspect combos. However, I will not be doing a deep dive of all the bosses except for the final bosses!

Obviously, spoilers abound under the cut, so tread with caution!!

Part 1: General Questions, Comments, Complaints, etc.

Q: Playing Melinoë is so difficult compared to Zagreus!

A: First of all, you are playing Melinoë, not Zagreus. Second of all, you are playing Lv. 1 Mel after being so used to Lv. 100 Zag (if you've spent an unreasonable amount of time playing Hades 1 like I did). These two have different playstyles! I myself am guilty of this mindset in my first 20 hours of gameplay.

Mel is all about using everything in your disposal to dispatch enemies. Additionally, the devs have designed the kit in such a way that none of your moves are an afterthought that you occasionally use every other room. The biggest example of this is Cast, which remains useful as a crowd control (CC) move even without a Boon attached to it. Use your Cast all the time!

Additionally, in case you haven't realized it, you can still move while charging your Omega Cast; however, the AoE will not follow you unless you have Local Climate (Demeter).

Don't forget that you can hold down Dash to Sprint. Lock enemies in place with Cast then sprint away if you need breathing room. However, do remember that you do not have i-frames while sprinting, only when dashing.

I have to concede that as of the current EA patch, dashing to dodge attacks still feels janky without the Swift Runner card, mostly because of the dash start-up animation being slightly but noticeably slower than Zag's dashes. However, after several runs with the Judgment card (where I can't activate Swift Runner, and that it might not activate further in the run), the rhythm of dashing with and without it is just muscle memory now. Keep practicing!

Q: Melinoë feels so squishy/slow/weak/etc.!

A: Hades 2 does feel much more Early Game Hellish™ than Hades 1, which imo is mostly because of the Arcana system's complexities.

You need various resources to unlock an Arcana, then you need sufficient Grasp to actually use the Arcana, THEN some Arcana have prerequisites for activation so you can't just use anything and everything you want. Very unlike H1, where you can just dump exactly one resource type into levelling the Mirror upgrades and the only true constraint is choosing one side of the Mirror over the other.

To mitigate the squishiness, Frinos with a fully upgraded Life Bond gives you a free 40 base HP. I prefer him over Toula because I fucking suck at bullet hells and Frinos eats up all those projectiles without flinching too much, and some enemies are really fucking annoying with their projectile attacks. Looking at you, hourglass thingies in Tartarus.

Another thing to note is that The Wayward Son card is a buffed version of Zag's health regen on room exit. At max level it heals 4 HP (8 if you're low), which also makes Chaos gate health drains trivial in Erebus and Oceanus, so go grab those Chaos boons.

If you think surviving against Chronos/Eris is difficult, try having at least 200-220 HP (adjust depending on Fear settings) before entering the fight. The Centaur and Titan cards are useful to achieve this. If you run a Hephaestus build, the Boon that adds HP based on Magick is also great!

Q: The Bosses in Hades 2 are more difficult... please help!

A: I see this observation often, but in my experience, the H2 bosses bar Chronos and Eris are actually significantly easier than the H1 bosses. Your experience gap between dealing with H1 and H2 bosses could also contribute. But anyways, here's some tips for each boss:

Hecate

The transformation Hex counts as a projectile and can be blocked by Frinos. If you haven't unlocked Frinos, simply dash back and forth into the hex (essentially abusing your dash i-frame) and it will eventually dissipate. Don't try to outrun it.

(Frinos ate the hex before I could fully demonstrate the dodging lol)

If you DO get transformed, dash and attack repeatedly to prevent Hecate's attacks from hitting you, because your attack in sheep form is a charge forward that helps add extra distance while waiting for the dash cooldown to end.

Scylla and the Sirens

They killed me an unreasonable amount of times early game because there's so damn much going on the screen, so my tip for that is kill the drummer first. The guitarist's arsenal is much less dangerous and her dash attack is heavily telegraphed. Even if the guitarist is the featured artist, I would still kill the drummer first. Additionally, the Night Bloom Hex* works in this fight. Have fun!

Infernal Beast

Mostly immobile boss that can't really turn around with heavily telegraphed attacks, so the easiest trick is to just stand behind it for free backstab damage and don't get hit. Paired with the massive hitbox, the boss becomes very vulnerable against Apollo/Zeus cast and Omega specials with Pan aspect on the Sister Blades.

Polyphemus

Sometimes he has sheep in the fight; if he eats them he gets healed. Gold sheep will block Omega moves in the radius indicated around them, while black sheep will charge at you. I find his most difficult attack is the boulder slam if he spots you. When he leaps, sprint away first for some distance, then dash into the shockwaves because they move FAST and staying near will guarantee you get hit.

Eris

All of her attacks count as projectiles, so Hestia's Soot Sprint turns the fight into a total joke. She also turns relatively slowly when firing; when she does the spread shots, stay directly behind her. The forward charge is also telegraphed by an animation where she rises a bit before charging, so dash towards Eris to avoid getting hit (because it also stuns you).

Chronos, in general

God I hate that bitch ass scythe throw attack SO MUCH. I find the most reliable way to dodge it is to dodge towards Chronos but in a counterclockwise direction because it always travels clockwise. DO NOT DODGE AWAY FROM HIM.

The thrown scythe counts as a projectile, so projectile slowing effects like Demeter's Cyclone debuff or Hard Target (Hermes) affect its move speed.

Additionally, Chronos himself is immune to any time-slowing effect, including from the Sorceress card, the Phase Shift Hex, and Hermes' legendary Boon. He can still damage you during the time stop in the Hex casting animation.

Lastly, the ring explosions that come after his slashing attacks are unblockable by any "Block" move e.g. Axe special.

Chronos, 2nd phase

He always begins the phase with a full screen attack that does 999 damage unless you stand in the highlighted safe spots... or if you have Coarse Grit (Demeter Infusion) that lets you take no more than 15 damage per hit (lol). The clock hands will also kill you this way, so stand well clear of its radius. When he does this attack he will stand in place, which if you're lucky lets you get a guaranteed Omega Cast or Total Eclipse strike, and even one or two fully charged Pan aspect specials if the "safe spot" is near him.

(* Night Bloom has an unintended interaction with the Judgment arcana that causes its effects to be triggered multiple times in the Scylla fight. I've reported this as a bug, but I guess you could abuse it until the next patch lol)

Q: What is your Arcana setup?

A: This! I find this to be the easiest setup for activating the Divinity card and also the "safest" build, with the drawback of being unable to change room rewards/Boon and Well of Charon offerings.

If I wanted more challenge, I would activate everything in the third row, and use the remaining 3 Grasp for either The Huntress or Death, depending on weapon:

When I do a Judgment arcana run, I only activate The Wayward Son, Eternity, and Excellence; the bonus with Judgment is that it also automatically activates The Queen, and keeps it active no matter how many more cards it activates later.

If you have yet to max out your Grasp and want to play it safe, the cards I recommend to prioritize are Eternity > Excellence > Origination > The Swift Runner/The Sorceress > The Titan > The Furies/The Moon/The Huntress/ > Night/The Unseen.

Extra tip: The Moon synergizes very well with pure damage Omega Casts e.g. Apollo, Zeus, Poseidon because it adds to the base damage. Naturally, this makes Apollo cast busted as hell.

Q: What are your recommended Keepsakes? How do I use them?

A: The ones from Hecate, Odysseus, Nemesis, Moros, and Narcissus. If you're good at not getting hit, Arachne's because it continuously stacks Armor per location as long as you stay above 1 Armor. Recently I've also been messing around with Chaos', which has been fun.

To elaborate:

Silver Wheel (Hecate) lets you regen Magick automatically, which was great for me in very early game until I got the hang of every Gain boon and evaluated which are the best ones. Essentially, it's a good crutch for learning how the game works. However, do note that the Keepsake regen is prioritized over any other Magick regeneration effects.

Knuckle Bones (Odysseus) is also a similarly useful early game crutch if you have difficulty against bosses or need to take a run to analyze their moves (very appropriate). It also gives you all-damage reduction against bosses. And fun fact: bring it to the Polyphemus fight multiple times for some unique interactions!

Evil Eye (Nemesis) is just a straightforward free ~30% universal damage bonus against the last enemy that killed you. Since mine was Chronos... well, let's just say I almost never spend a single DD in his fights ever since.

Engraved Pin (Moros) is functionally a better Stubborn Defiance. Triggering its effect will be prioritized over consuming a Death Defiance, and it works ONCE PER ROOM which is fucking amazing as a learning crutch and in high Fear runs. One of my favorite strategies if 1) my HP falls below the Pin's healing threshold, 2) its effect has not been triggered yet, and 3) I am 100% sure the encounter is about to end, I just die on purpose, kill everything that's left, and get a free heal.

Aromatic Phial (Narcissus) rarifies a random Common boon when you drink from a Fountain, which helps massively in no-Arcana runs or runs without Excellence/Divinity. It could also help if you grabbed Hera's Uncommon Grace but are unable to activate it because you have a Common boon. Lastly, the extra Fountain heal helps with survivability.

On the topic of Keepsakes, I encourage you to use the Olympian Keepsakes, because they now have the ability to increase the rarity of non-Infusion/Duo/Legendary Boons up to a certain rarity threshold and not just help you aim where your current build is going.

Rarification works especially well with Demeter's Rare Crop; one time Heroic Rare Crop managed to rarify my Attack, Special, and Cast somehow and I ended up blazing through Tartarus and Chronos like it was nothing.

End Notes (For Now)

I have some more tips prepared, but I'd like to know before I compile the next one:

Aand that's it for now. If I got something wrong or you know anything relevant to what I've shared above, do tell me in the replies so I can edit!

TL;DR: Don't forget to use Cast, get used to dodging with and without Swift Runner card, grab Chaos boons in early regions, be patient with grinding for upgrades, keep practicing, and have fun :)

[dearweirdme]

https://www.tumblr.com/dearweirdme/742683031865786368/there-is-a-former-i-guess-blog-that-seems-more

I just don't really understand this narrative because people paint Taekook like they aren't even friends when they clearly are, or else why would they choose to spend so much time together?? They're grown men, no one is forcing them to hang out together. If people don't think they're together romantically, that's fine. But it seems unreasonable to assume they're barely even friends with each other lol

Hi anon!

It is unreasonable, absolutely! No way Jk would have spent that much time with Jk if he didn't at least like him. It's not as though Jk doesn't have other friends around... he could have gone to any member, and yet we mostly saw him with Tae.

But also, Jk does not look annoyed or dismisive even in those instances people mostly mention to me. I think you kinda have to want to see that if you think that's true. Jk is protective.. and he has reason to be. Imagine having this huge secret, but everyone and their mother starts asking about it. There's a reason why Jk has not talked about Tae much on his lives (also not quite true.. but it was for a short amount of time) but he had little problem bringing him up in interviews.. he knows that journalists wont push him for more when he talks about Tae.. while he know that shippers will go wild about it.

[en-busca-de-mi-ikigai-blog]

02/01/2025

This used to be my side blog, the one where I only reblogged the cool stuff TM, the one that I would selectively choose only The Best of art pieces, or more meaningful writing or specialest (¿) posts.

Since I cannot use my former main blog anymore (it exists, it is okay, tumblr just won't let me recover my account, for some reason), I guess this one has become my main and I use it in a more lenient way.

I think I'm overcoming my perfectionism this year and it feels healing, even if it is a bit chaotic at times.

Happy 2025!

As always, all things pass. This, too, shall pass.

Edit: also, before I would have spent an unreasonable amount of time carefully crafting each entry, to make sure the meaning is well conveyed and the message gets across. However, now, I just read it a couple times and that's it, barely change it. And I am proud of myself for this, because it weighs less and makes me focus on the real important stuff. Which, today, was (mostly) resting.

[ichigotia]

books i’ve bought recently !

— [♡]; hello! long time no see!! i've officially finished my first year of uni (my third year of college overall -_-) so now i've had so much more time to work on tackling my tbr! my city's library system actually got hacked lmfao so i haven't been able to put holds down. i've taken matters into my own hands though and have spent an unreasonable amount of time at my favorite bookstores and picking out books. i had put myself on a book-buying ban a few months ago and i've decided to break it now that i'm officially free from the confines of university :3

sula - toni morrison

i've been wanting to get into morrison's work for so long, but i'm also very indecisive and didn't know where i wanted to start. while i was at my favorite local bookstore i saw this book on the shelves and finally decided i would begin with it.

the story of a new name, those who leave and those who stay, the story of the lost child - elena ferrante

i'd read my brilliant friend, which is the first in the neapolitan novels, and i heavily enjoyed it. i found books 2-4 at my favorite second-hand bookstores and i'm so excited to read the rest of the series. i'd also bought the days of abandonment, also by ferrante, and really enjoyed that book as well. my bookshelf is now heavily populated by ferrante's works :3

emma - jane austen

i've been trying to get into more jane austen, and i found the book of the month club 1996 (?) edition at a second-hand bookstore by my uni and i was lit as hell. it was in such good condition, the cover is so pretty, and the cashier was surprised that they even had it in the store. i'm convinced the book was waiting for me.

the seven year slip - ashley poston

i'm not much of a romance person, i tried to read love, theoretically but had to drop it barely 70 pages in because i couldn't get in to it (even though i really wanted to because the guy on the cover is so nanami coded but whatever). my mom says that most of the books she sees me with look sad so i figured i would give this book a try..it was also part of a bogo half off at barnes and noble so i just went for it.

i who have never known men - jacqueline harpman

this was the other book i ended up choosing to take advantage of the barnes and noble bogo half off hehe. i've been wanting to read this for a while, it was on a table with a sign that said "weird books for weird people", and one of my favorite books ever (earthlings by sayaka murata :3) was also on the table so i ended up taking this book home.

i'm wishing anyone and everyone a happy pride month! happy reading! :3

[kytedevlin]

Virtual Currency and The Value of a Dollar

It has become my concern after participating in playing video games over the years that the offer of virtual currency has reached an all time low. I used to save my dollars to pick up a few nexon cards from the local corner stores or pharmacies, to grab some quick in game cash for a few amenities in my accounts. This continued later on with riot cards and league of legends and many other games. As a got older and began to read user agreements and privacy policies, that virtual currency has no value, it cannot be resold for more or less then its price, and it cannot be refunded. It is in my opinion that this is an unethical practice, the trade of real money for virtual items is probably unfeasible for most, as purchasing food, housing, and the means to even play with those virtual items comes first. But how is the trade of something with no tangibility, legal. How can you not be refunded for the full amount of something that does not exist? Does the money you spend go to nothing, towards development or the livelihood of others, nor increase in value over time? Are all of these games virtual currency stores simply a scam, and the money you spend on them is not depended on nor invested in, as the development process is underway. To allow such a system of currency which places no value on the money you spend on them is unethical and therefore unreasonable. For something that exists within its own ecosystem, virtual items versus the players that use them, then the removal of your account should result in the complete refund of the amount of currency purchased items. If no value is placed on the currency, then there is no value to the items themselves. To even debate the ability to earn all items within a game is leaning into the ability for this practice to continue, as then value is placed upon your time. Should players be allowed to earn virtual currency based on playtime or runtime? Regardless all of the cost is footed by the person who is playing said virtual environment. For those who spend money regularly on virtual environments would they say that they have a say in the course of development of said virtual environment. To spend money, to have no say in what can be done with what was purchased, and have no ability to refund such an item, is unethical. It does not accrue the value of an account, as the virtual items also hold no value, and it does not respect the value of the currency spent on it. It is my opinion that in the spirit of ethical consumption of virtual media, that through its use players are rewarded for their time spent playing the game, in this respect, currency can be earned and therefore holds value, this would allow players to trade that currency of their own volition, as this was as it was meant to be, but it also reinforces a virtual environments ability to sell. Without the ability to earn there can be no value placed on the environment and therefore it cannot be considered an ethical use of currency, and if you cannot be refunded for the use of your account or the sale of your account from that virtual environment, than it can be considered that there is no gain to be had from any virtual currency store, and all agreements are rendered moot, or should be, in accordance to the law. These may seem like harsh terms, but the removal of your ability to choose is a more egregious overstep, and as games move further into the digital realm with DRM and other "disabled ownership" tactics, that remove your ability to own something after purchasing it these tactics should be noted in any form they take, whether it be in the digital realm, or the real one. The benefit of considering these virtual currencies as a refundable and resalable, is that the duping, or hacking or otherwise infringing upon another user's digital environment will have more realistic consequences, and outside sites that use currency for resale can be legitimately logged and held accountable for any misuse, or lack thereof of these types of currencies.

[experimentalbuild]

I regret that I won't have enough time for Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth

Ok so I adore the Yakuza/Like a Dragon series, but I just don't have time for them. They are just so unbelievably dense. As a video gamer man, I have a problem where I try to clear everything in one area before moving onto the next area. If I have to choose between main story missions or side missions, I prioritize side missions every time. I HATE when I miss out on experiencing content in a game.

The Yakuza games bring out the worst of this in me because they are FILLED with fun, random stuff to do.

In my first Yakuza game, Yakuza 0, I spent hours and hours playing the dumb Pocket Circuit mini game. If there was a marker for a Side Story, I went there immediately. I wasted an absurd amount of time doing literally everything but the main story.

But then when I actually took a break from side stuff to play the story, the story was so unbelievably good! I laughed, I cried, I laughed and cried at the same time. After eventually completing the story, I had no choice but to continue on with the series. I had to see what happened to this Kazuma Kiryu guy!

I TRIED to play Yakuza Kiwami and Kiwami 2, modern remakes of the first two games in the series, with more of a focus on completing the main story first, but even so, by the time I started Yakuza 3, I was completely burned out on the series. The hours of gameplay in these games really get up there when you get even slightly distracted by the random goodies they offer.

And I hate that I haven't had the time to continue the series! The Yakuza games are so full of goofy, off the wall experiences and unforgettable characters balanced with intriguing and genuinely emotional storylines. There is legitimately nothing like the Yakuza/Like a Dragon series in the gaming landscape. Every time I’ve had a gap in new games to play, I’ve always considered going back to the series.

And then 2023 happened and erased any possibility of dipping back into the series. It was the Year of Endless Bangers. Forget about gaps in new games to play, I didn't even have time for some of the games I had been waiting years for! There were so many dang high-quality games that were released last year!

However, one game I DID get around to making time for was Like a Dragon Gaiden: The Man who Erased his Name, a spin-off from the main series. I heard that the main story could be completed in 10-15 hours and that the ending was phenomenal.

“Oh, I can mainline the story since it's so short,” I said to myself.

I did not mainline the story.

The game has a twist on how you encounter Side Stories: the Akame Network. Littered throughout Sotenbori were people who needed simple tasks done. A girl's soccer ball is stuck in a tree. A homeless man is hungry for some takoyaki. A businessman is being threatened by hooligans. There's four or five people on every street that need help with something.

As you help people around town, you level up your Akame Network rank. The higher your rank and the further you advance in the story, the more Side Stories you unlock.

Boy oh boy did I get HOOKED on this gameplay loop. It's almost like the developers knew I was going to try to mainline the story and just couldn't allow that to happen. Ten hours into the game I was still in chapter 2! After seeing the 25 or so small tasks I had cleared out in Chapter 2 completely refresh in Chapter 3, I put my focus back on the main story and completed the game after about 21 hours.

Because of Like a Dragon Gaiden, I'm drastically behind in playing Alan Wake 2. And because I'm catching up on Alan Wake 2, I don't have time to experience the joyful chaos of The Finals. I put Star Wars Jedi: Survivor on the back burner in May and still need to go back to that.

Fast forward to the news cycle about the upcoming game in the mainline series, Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth. Every single press release or preview talks about how unreasonably long this game will take to play.

The map is three times the size of the map in Yakuza 7: Like a Dragon.

There's a separate island that will play like Animal Crossing.

There's an infinitely repeatable randomized dungeon with roguelikes elements.

There's a Pokemon-like mini game where you collect, evolve, and battle with humans.

And none of these things are being teased as small one-offs. In typical Like a Dragon fashion, these offerings appear to be far more in depth than they have any right to be.

I DON'T HAVE THE TIME FOR THIS. 

I know for a fact I will get hung up on each of those dumb mini games and completely ignore the main story line. I won't be able to help myself! Days will turn to weeks and I'll fall even further behind in other games I want to play.  I’m still trying to catch up to the games I missed in 2023! I can't stress enough how unappealing “hundreds of hours of content” is to me at this point and time.

Everything being shown to me about Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth looks AWESOME, but is also pushing me away from trying it at the same time. 

And that sucks, because I bet it's gonna be a really awesome game. It's gonna have a ton of cool things to do. It's gonna have moments that make me laugh and cry. It's gonna have unique gameplay mechanics that you won't be able to experience anywhere else. It's gonna have my boy, Kazuma Kiryu, kicking all kinds of ass.

And I won't be able to experience it, because it's unreasonable for a game to expect me personally to have that much time to commit to it.

[selfdefensegearco]

Check Out This Fantastic Post Just Published on https://selfdefensegearco.com/personal-protection/critical-thinking-about-safe-appendix-carry/

Critical Thinking about Safe Appendix Carry

Carrying any firearm entails risk. Critical thinking is the best way to mitigate those risks. Yet, many people let their emotions sway their thoughts when it comes to safe appendix carry options. In fact, some people let their emotions push them to believe that there is no safe way from them to carry a gun in this position and even extend their opinion to others. There are far too many professional shooting instructors, holster companies and serious students of defensive shooting advocating, training and practicing safe appendix carry to make the emotional position tenable. So how do are so many people performing safe appendix carry methods despite the initial concerns that many people have? Take a look at these videos. First, we’re going to address the emotional concerns. Actually, I’m going to let my buddy John Johnston, host of Ballistic Radio address them very directly. John is a leader in the latest generation of Firearms Media and a bit of training junky. for the last handful of years, he has spent huge amounts of time with some of the most established instructors in the field of defensive shooting and tactics. In this video, he uses a training gun with simulated ammunition to try to settle this issue once and for all. He actually demonstrates what happens how hard it is to shoot yourself while drawing or holstering in the appendix carry position. He does this demo, of course, with full expectation that it will get the attention of those who are obsessed with the idea that this position is recklessly dangerous and possibly get them to reconsider. He goes to great lengths to point out the potential mistakes and unlikely they are with anything approaching a safe appendix carry holster and technique. Next, take a look at this video that I did several years ago with Tom Gresham for his Guns & Gear show. Tom is one of the most established voices in our community and we’ve worked together on many projects over many years. He would be unlikely to present information in any of his productions that was commonly thought of as dangerous by the training community. After we discuss some aspects of Crossbreed‘s appendix holster (… it is a show about gear, after all!), the clip cuts to me actually teaching the proper method for safe appendix carry presentation and holstering that tens of thousands of people utilize to avoid hurting themselves while carrying their defensive gun in this incredibly convenient position. Finally, take a look at this video that Rob Leatham and I recorded earlier this year. One of the frequent comments on social media whenever Appendix Carry comes up is the myth that only skinny people can use this method. Well, you night have noticed in the first video that John Johnston isn’t a tiny human… well, neither is “The Great One”. Take a look at this video from the Springfield Armory/PDN World’s Collide Series to hear why and how one of the most accomplished professional shooters of all time chooses AIWB. “Safe Appendix Carry” is clearly an option.Only you can decide if this method is a good choice for you, but you should be sure to approach the question with logic and rational thinking, with a clear understanding of the concepts and techniques involved. It should be clear to anyone willing to look at the issue with an open mind that, while appendix carry may not be for you, anyone who dismisses it outright as unreasonably dangerous needs to have the value of their opinion on these matters approached with a great deal of skepticism. In some cases, of course, it is simply that they are unfamiliar with the facts, especially if they look at defensive shooting from a military or uniformed law enforcement perspective. In other cases, they may be letting their emotions get the better of them and failing to see the options for safe appendix carry. -RJP PS- IF you are looking for more information on the topic, we produced an entire DVD covering Appendix Carry a few years ago! The post Critical Thinking about Safe Appendix Carry appeared first on Personal Defense Network.

[lingerasthesmokeoncedid]

peace on earth, goodwill to (bat)man

pairing: bruce wayne/reader

summary: It's Christmas Eve at Wayne Enterprises, and no one wants to be alone.

wc: 1.5k

genre: quiet holiday romance

warnings: none

When You First Took My Hand (on a Cold Christmas eve)

“Merry Christmas Eve, Mr. Wayne. Leaving for the office?”

At the sound of Alfred’s offhand voice, Bruce paused tiptoeing across his kitchen, caught like a teenager sneaking out after curfew. 

Ever since he’d started this Batman thing a few years ago, every December 24th had been the same - and every subsequent year, Bruce thought he would be able to beat the old man. To sneak out of the house before he had a chance to castigate him for choosing vigilantism over holiday cheer.

“Yeah,” Bruce said, wincing. “Have to make an appearance. Give out the bonuses. Looks like Lucius has roped me into judging some cookie swap or something, too.”

Alfred raised one eyebrow, the gesture shifting the festive Santa hat currently positioned atop his head. An uncommonly jolly accessory for the old man, clearly employed to make Bruce feel worse. “And you’ll be home for dinner eight, yes?”

“You know I won’t be. Don’t do this again this year, okay?”

As a kid, Bruce and Alfred spent every Christmas Eve together. It was tradition, a way for Bruce to feel like he had a family for at least a few hours every holiday season. But now, as an adult, Bruce had more pressing matters to attend to - even on Christmas. A fact Alfred hated. 

“The city doesn’t need a Batman tonight,” Alfred said.

“Yes. They do. Come on, Alfred. Don’t look so grim. It’s Christmas.”

It was more of a plea than a wish. Alfred would hear neither. 

The old man closed his newspaper. “Mh-hm. And my dearest wish is that one day, Santa will bring you someone who makes your life worth actually living.”

*

Bruce did his best not to dwell on Alfred’s Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come act. That day, he focused his energies on smiling and glad-handing and being the consummate billionaire guy-about-town - flashing his money around and trying to be charming and everything he really wasn’t.

But like a catchy Christmas song, Alfred’s words were caught in Bruce’s head. Infuriatingly, it made him see the entire holiday season in an entirely new light. Gotham looked surprisingly beautiful this time of year, he noticed. The grime and the slog gave way to twinkling lights and fresh snow. The offices of Wayne Enterprises, too, bustled with unreasonably happy employees. When he judged the cookie swap (a competition that had a one-thousand dollar bonus on the line) that afternoon, for example, he saw one secretary crying about dropping her cookies on the way to the office — only for her desk-mate to offer her cookies as a replacement entry. 

Those cookies won. And the original baker never asked for a cent of the thousand dollars, nor did she take credit for their creation.

For the first time, Bruce actually….well, he wouldn’t say he enjoyed coming in to work this year, but it did fill him with a certain amount of hope that he’d been missing. He noticed the little things today, the kindness and goodness that he often missed when prowling the city for trouble.

However, when five o’clock rolled around and the staff scrambled out to do the last of their holiday shopping and cooking, Bruce readied himself to shake off the warmth of seasonal cheer. He had real work to do. The city needed him -

It was then that he realized he was not alone on the sixty-eighth floor as he’s originally thought. A fact that made his escape almost impossible. 

He couldn’t very well open the door to the alcove hiding his Batsuit with someone working just beyond the glass walls of his office, could he?

So, he waited. Fiddling awkwardly with his computer as the sound of her tinny radio’s Christmas music filled the distant air between them. He found his attention drifting from the police blotter website to her often — not because she was beautiful, he told himself, and not even because she was the one who’d loaned her winning cookies to her unlucky coworker. But because she was an obstacle to him beginning his night of protecting Gotham.

Yeah. That was it. Nothing else. 

And when, around eight o’clock, she brought a Christmas mug to her mouth, drawing Bruce’s attention to her soft lips, he decided he’d had enough of this for one night. 

The city needed him to defend it — not to moon over some woman who might as well have not known he was on the same planet as her, much less on the same floor of Wayne Enterprises. 

Throwing on his coat and his scarf, he left the relative privacy of his executive suite and strode towards her desk — ready to give her a firm season’s greeting and not-so-subtly indicate that she should go back home to spend it with her family. 

However…

He hadn’t counted on her smile. When she saw him coming, her entire face lit up, and she lowered the volume on her radio so she could greet him properly. It wasn’t one of those fake smiles people often gave him — the kind that told him they were very happy to see his money and basically disinterested in him himself. It was the real thing. 

Nothing could have shocked him more. Bruce was so used to people shuffle away when he approached as their boss or bow and scrape when he was their customer. Batman was so used to seeing people scream in horror and run away at the sight of him. 

But there she was. A woman in a ridiculous sweater. Smiling up at him as though they were old friends finally reunited for Christmas. 

“Happy Holidays, Mr. Wayne. Heading home for the night?”

“I,” he said, clearing his throat when the word faltered, “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

“Me? No, not going home. I’ve got, just, a ton of work to do.”

“Likewise.”

Awkward silence filled only with the sound of Darlene Love singing Baby, Please Come Home followed then. Bruce didn’t know what to say. He had been so sure that his presence alone would be enough to drive her away. Most people in this building — hell, in this city — found him unbearable to be near. His social skills were non-existent and his the overwhelming sadness of his universally known life story made people flee him as quickly as they could. 

Not her. She, actually, leaned in to his presence. 

“Uh, but while you’re here…” She dug under her desk and retrieved an old sewing tin, which she handed to him. “I made cookies. Would you like some?”

“These survived the cookie swap after all?”

“No. I made these for you, actually.”

The cap on the tin came away easily, and there they were — a dozen individual sugar cookies, haphazardly decorated with both silver and blue and green and red frosting, representing both his mother and his father’s traditions. It wasn’t just Christmas. It was Hanukkah, too, and this near-stranger had remembered that he celebrated both.  

Not only was she not running from him, not only was she not uncomfortable being in his presence, but she’d thought of him at the most special time of the year. She’d planned this whole thing so they could share this moment together.

“For…for me?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been working here for three years now. I noticed you always work late on Christmas Eve.”

“I see. You don’t really have any work to do tonight, did you?” 

Having called her bluff, he almost smiled down at her. She met his gaze, conceding.  

“No, Mr. Wayne.”

The cookies, staying late at the office. It all had to mean something. But what? And why did it make him want to sit across that desk from her and talk until the cookies or the conversation ran out? 

“What about your family?” He asked. “Aren’t they missing you?”

“It’s Gotham. You know most of us are alone.” That smile faltered for the briefest of moments, then she recovered. “But I thought maybe this year could be different. For both of us. Even if it’s just in the office.”

From the way her shoulders tensed and her breathing grew slightly erratic, Bruce could tell that this was huge for her — maybe as huge for her to offer as it would be for him to accept.

“Well. That is…” Wonderful. World-shaking. Absolutely baffling. He decided not to say any of that. “It’s just I’m not alone on Christmas.”

She deflated at what she clearly thought was a brush-off. “Oh.”

“My butler, Alfred, is always nagging me to leave this place and spend the holiday with him.”

“I see. That makes sense -“

“But..." He paused. Was he really going to do this?

His hand tightened on the tin of cookies. Such a small gesture to mean the world to him, a lonely kid who hadn't see the soul of this city in a very, very long time. Not until tonight, when she smiled at him and offered him some sugar-snaps.

Yes. Yes, he was doing this.

"But if you'd like to join us, we'd love to have you.”

Her face flushed. “I don’t want to be a nuisance - “

“You wouldn’t be. Actually, I…” He almost chuckled. What would the old man say when Bruce answered his I hope you find someone who makes life worth living remark by doing just that? He wasn’t sure this woman was that person for him. He’d only just met her, after all.

But he had a good feeling. After all, it was at the top of Alfred’s list for Santa, and this time of year was the season of miracles. “I think Alfred has been wishing for something just like this.”

[annabelle--cane]

sooo, in the last part of the season five q+a, jonny mentioned how he sees a lot of our lovely jon jarchivist's journey as analogous to addiction, and I hard agree on that, that metaphor is an aspect of tma that always really stuck out to me and I think was done well, but I don't think a huge number of people actively recognize it? or, if they do, they don't tend to talk about it. I might. have spent a certain amount of time getting real specific with my keyword searches to look for it.

I do think most people get that jon's compulsion to read and extract statements is an addiction metaphor by late season four, as it gets pretty explicit in the text around there, but I don't see people use that same lens on his interactions with georgie in season three, at least not as much as they use similarly applicable lenses of anti capitalism or trauma/mental illness more generally.

take this bit from mag 083:

ARCHIVIST: Look, Georgie, it’s not… You don’t need to worry. I mean, I’m not, I’m not on drugs or anything.

[GEORGIE LAUGHS DISBELIEVINGLY]

What? … I could be on drugs!

GEORGIE: Sure. I just… I know that you get obsessive about stuff, and this right here, I… I’m guessing someone dragged you into something weird, you got hooked in and then it all went wrong.

ARCHIVIST: I mean, that is almost exactly what happened.

obviously, this is a bit of comedy, jon comes off as being in the human-manifestation-of-a-sweater-vest probably-doesn't-even-know-how-to-buy-weed vein of person, but also, yeah, that is kind of what this looks like. georgie's anxious, impulsive, obsessive ex with a tendency to self-isolate and an already established nicotine addiction shows up on her doorstep having recently gone through some fairly spectacular trauma and seeming even more stressed and high strung than normal all while being unwilling to tell her what's going on. the conclusion that he might have picked up a drug problem is not an unreasonable one at which to arrive, and even though that's not literally what's going on with him, it continues to be an easy parallel to draw.

under the cut I've put a whole bunch of quotes (no analysis from me on these, I'd just like to prompt some thought) between the two of them from season three that, as it were, hit different if you continue to keep that lens in mind.

mag 087

ARCHIVIST: Uh… Look, you just have to trust me, okay.

GEORGIE: Yeah, and I want to do that, but how can I when you still won’t tell me what’s going on?

ARCHIVIST: You wouldn’t believe me!

GEORGIE: Try me.

ARCHIVIST: … [Sigh] You’re right. It’s… It’s alright. I can just go.

GEORGIE: Come on, I’m not throwing you out, Jon. I know you wouldn’t be here if you had anywhere else to go, and I… I do want to help, but… y’know, you’re a good person. You were, at least. But whatever this is, it’s messing you up! [Sigh] Look I’ve, I’ve got work to do. You listen, or don’t listen, or cross-record, or whatever you want, just… just think about it first, okay? You can choose to leave it alone.

mag 087 (cont)

GEORGIE: That’s it. Whatever the hell this deal is, the tapes, documents, I don’t want them in my house.

ARCHIVIST: Look, look… No, no… Look, you, you don’t need to be scared.

GEORGIE: I’m not! You are! Look at you, you can barely stand!

ARCHIVIST: But I… But I need –

GEORGIE: Listen to me, Jon. I can’t stop you doing… whatever secret bullshit you want to do, and I’m… not going to throw you out on the street, but I’m not having it in by home.

ARCHIVIST: No… No, they won’t. I’ll make sure it doesn’t… I’ll keep it far away.

GEORGIE: No, you need to stop.

ARCHIVIST: I’m not sure I can.

mag 093

GEORGIE: So, what? You were just packing this away?

ARCHIVIST: Georgie, I just, I needed to do one more.

GEORGIE: I asked you not to record them here.

ARCHIVIST: I’m sorry, I… I honestly forgot. It’s been a hell of a week.

GEORGIE: Yeah, not just for you. What, you think you just disappear for five days, then turn up looking like the, like the end of Die Hard, and I’ll just write it off? ‘Classic Jon, what an interesting life he must lead.’

mag 093 (cont.)

ARCHIVIST: Look, I’m moving out anyway, so just… just forget it. I’m out of your life. Alright?

GEORGIE: No.

ARCHIVIST: No… No, what?

GEORGIE: You leave, you don’t get your tapes back.

ARCHIVIST: What?

GEORGIE: When you disappeared, I took the tapes you recorded, and locked them away. Honestly, I thought I might need them as evidence. You want them back, you tell me what’s happening.

ARCHIVIST: Georgie, please… You’ll think I’m… You’ll think I’m delusional.

mag 099

GEORGIE: I said I’m fine with it. At least until you’re properly back on your feet. You’re not doing well. You keep apologising and saying you’re changing, but it’s all just the same. If you leave, I think it’s just going to get worse, and I don’t want that.

ARCHIVIST: I do appreci – I mean, I don’t… Georgie, you literally can’t feel fear! Are you sure that that’s not –

GEORGIE: Don’t! Okay. I’m well aware of my situation. It does not make me an idiot. And it doesn’t mean I got a death wish, either.

ARCHIVIST: Is it… Why are you so insistent on keeping me around?

GEORGIE: Because you’re trying to cut yourself off, and that’s… that’s really bad. Look, when’s the last time you spoke to someone who wasn’t me?

[sugar-petals]

can you give us more thoughts about domestic yoongles? the taemin's one (wich I love) just made me miss the cat boy so much ;o;

i have a phd in househusband yoongi so let me fire out some ideas for ya.

myg at home headcanon

🐱 word count. 1.9k | fluff, slice of life, slight nsfw mentions, x reader, bullet points

The doorbell sound is a recording of Yoongi imitating a doorbell. He’s such a meme. Ceci n'est pas une pipe.

Seemingly, he teaches himself a new recipe every week. To perfection. Yoongi is very particular about sticking to the recipe and wielding his kitchen tools in the right way. He collects knives, olive oil, and still hates cutting onions.

He separates sleep time, work time, and couple time as the holy trinity. For each, he switches his mood.

Blushes easily no matter for how long you’ve been together.

Establishes his own radio show where he DJs at one point.

Yoongi keeps an extreme track on the garbage schedule. He knows exactly what is due when. Separating the trash is a must. That includes sorting out fake friends trying to get between your relationship. Your social circle as a couple is extremely deliberate.

Yoongi deems himself a terrible host for guests. Unless Hoseok is there to drag him out, it's true he rather stays in the kitchen or at the barbecue preparing the menu courses rather than making small talk. He leaves the hospitality bits to you, however you want to go about it.

What he lacks in conversing with guests, he makes up in bed, God is absolutely fair.

He sings and hums pretty often and has his own vernacular of extraterrestrial uwu noises. It's an alphabet that you have to yet decipher but it's incredibly cute.

Self-made paintings everywhere around his house. 

Yoongi hasn't gone clubbing since grammar school. The most he does is going to a restaurant at lunch with very close friends. And always in a work context. His private life is so secluded from everything else and paparazzi just don't spot him anywhere, Dispatch thinks he must live abroad.

Very well, he does consider his big ole house a separate country. It's a living organism with a studio, gym, trophy room, small-size basketball court, and vastly equipped kitchen. A home theater as well, he likes American movies (like Inception) and Korean action genres, and you can stream whatever you fancy in there whenever you like. 

Yes, he has underwear with cute little bears on.

There's even a little pond in the backyard. Yoongi, Pisces he is, likes fishes after all. Sometimes he sits at the edge of the 'Little Ole Min Lake (LOML)' and stares into the water for literal hours with his chin parked on his palm.

His fridge is so high-tech and futuristic, even Yoongi is rendered clueless by its AI sometimes. The washing machine, too.

Yoongi watches RuPaul’s drag race. What did you expect? He finds it so humorous.

Owns lord knows how many comic collections.

Favorite holiday destination: New York.

Christmas is basically 50% you unveiling new music equipment to him in the garage and Yoongi almost fainting at the sexiness of it. The other 50% is spent holding hands and orgasm after orgasm until the new year since you loose track of time.

Goes on long rants why he’d marry you again every weekend.

Making you presents is his specialty. Always accompanied with a hand-written note. He writes a lot of things by hand for you in general. Texting, basically never. Always on paper.

No sex without a blanket and socks on. Yoongi gets cold very very easily and just doesn’t like showing skin. You buy him a heated blanket for his birthday, he even uses it in his studio chair.

Chronically addicted to making out.

Matching black outfits and glasses.

Laughs at even your worst jokes or phrases you didn’t expect you even uttered.

Yoongi owns the phoniest, most secretive-looking black car ever and nobody knows about it. Even he forgets he owns it, in fact he genuinely acts like it just doesn’t exist. Hilarious. And that guy has a level 1 Korean driver's license. Which allows him to drive trailers and busses and fucking trucks, and construction machines, let that sink in.

It's really a genius curse. Yoongi being put to the test will always deliver but he won't choose to execute his full skillset if he doesn't have to. Well, pragmatic. He's not as phony as he thinks he is, which is even more hilarious.

He uses that behemoth of a car so scarcely because he'd rather have things delivered to his doorstep and he's stingy with gas. Also, he doesn't like traffic and driving because of the traumatic shoulder accident and his tendency to space out. Translation: You drive that thing... that monster... it really is an impressive, fast, and scary machine. 

If someone devious ever even remotely manages to invade his privacy and get past the doubly-installed security system, he has enough money to deal with it no matter what.

If it concerns your privacy, he's a red belt. And owns Jin's number if a taekwondo master is required. Jimin's if it needs someone with kendo skills.

If Yoongi needs someone to go on a complete rampage, Jungkook lives just down the block. He can sprint to Yoongi's bunker I mean mansion within 45 seconds. 30 if it's very urgent. 20 if the reward is an instant ramen splurge with Yoongi's black card.

He has a sexy, glamorous sword collection hanging on the living room wall anyways, so. Who the hell is dumb enough to mess with him and his expensive lawyer in the first place.

But just in case, who knows... Yoongi settles matters shruggingly, anonymously, and with cash and he's too exhausted for violence, but don't underestimate his deter-min-ation and network for emergencies. Also, he is Agust D after all.

He will bonk a naughty burglar or kidnapper across the head with a wooden cooking spoon or take him down by throwing a basketball if the situation requires it. Damn, his reflexes are so fast, a feral cat in motion. So, lean back and sip on your drink of choice. Things are cared for.

If Yoongi is the one being kidnapped or a highly skilled stalker invades the property at night when he's fast asleep (nothing can wake this man during certain hours, strong REM right here): Don't forget that honeyboy is a Dodgers fan. There are signed baseball bats everywhere in this damn house.

In that sense, your parents visiting you here for the first time thought you were an undercover thug couple. Not to worry mom and dad, you both just like sports very much okay.

Yoongi walks around in all black clothes and the rooms are all seemingly dark. Even if you live together, you don't know his skin care routine. It's clear to you he's some sort of vampire.

Since Yoongi always forgets to remove his makeup, you made it a habit to wipe it down when he's about to pass out. He won't lie, he enjoys that kind of affection.

Holly is your resident child. You're essentially a family.

He insists to tackle this by himself, Yoongi sees his therapist monthly. Not shifting responsibility is something he's stubborn about and he pours his emotions into writing. You will do conversation about deeper stuff, but he says it's mostly up to him and his own mind. He dislikes burdening you or opening up too much and it's something to respect rather than force him about. If he wants to share a thought, he will. It doesn’t mean he can’t trust you or sucks at communicating (we know that he’s direct). Yoongi simply can’t put that much pain in such few words nor should you alleviate it for him.

Calls from the manager faze Yoongi as much as Jimin is bothered by gravity. If he’s busy kissing your body slow mo, who the hell dares to disturb his worship. 

This man had so many let-downs and interpersonal catastrophes in his life, he's super discerning with people. Because he rolls that way, during their first meeting Yoongi uses his psychology certificate on your friends. You see him squint at them, he listens very closely. After they pass the vibe check aka meow radar, he befriends them, too.

Yoongi doodles Grammy trophies everywhere to manifest them.

Yoongi shaves his legs.

All the sex toys he’s ever bought are black. Gotta vibe in style.

He spends ridiculous amounts of time in the studio but he's yours for the remainder of the night, breakfast, and he makes a lavish lunch and dinner.

Um, consider his head parked between your legs. The Hongkong line was not a joke.

Doesn’t mind you squishing his cheeks whenever and for how long you like. 

Every other weekend he gets flowers, vouchers, and gifts — not because of fans, they don’t know where his house is, but because he donates so much.

Namjoon often drops by and cleanses the area with his crystals.

Yoongi is a photography major so you can ask him to take professional, ceiling-high black and white shots of you.

Feeding each other food lovingly. Man, this guy got lips.

He set up a library just for you, in the exact historical aesthetic you like the most. Send him the link to any book you want, it's basically in the online shopping cart already. As I said, he wants to make you presents like every week.

Sometimes he sits on the other end studying English videos and vocab while you read. And yes, he's already 95% fluent but pretends being merely intermediate. He knows technical terms even native speakers have never heard of.

He collects pajamas and earrings.

Swears on the phone.

Namjoon being the horniest member is a cover-up story. Yoongi masturbates almost unreasonable amounts of times, by himself and in your arms when going to bed. Not gonna lie, it’s a sight to see his hands at work. He’s almost equally obsessed with fingering you once you ask him.

Yoongi was the one asking you to move in and almost had a nervous meltdown before meeting up with you to tell you just that. 

He’s the little spoon and of course a sleeping burrito to hold tight.

Finds you equally attractive in any state or styling. Yoongi practices what he preaches, he always reacts the same and says the same. 

Jams out to outrageous beats Namjoon sends him by dancing in the studio. You walk in on him every time. Was embarrassed at first, now you dance along.

Has bought you a life-sized Yoongi pillow and customized you a giant Shooky to hug when he’s not at home over night.

Owned a wine cellar until he quit drinking. Turned it into a piano room instead.

Only you know Yoongi has a serpent and dagger tattoo.

Scrubs the bathroom religiously.

The house smells like restaurant food and his extravagant perfumes half of the time.

Sometimes he has to remind himself he’s married to you and not his coffee machine. He shall be forgiven. You can’t complain that he doesn’t love you enough, nor is he ever not adorable when drinking his latte.

Never wears short sleeves. It can be scorching and he’ll wear a jacket. 

Tell him and the cap stays on during sex.

He grows his hair out and puts it in a low bun. The bangs remain.

Yoongi has installed the most fire-proof building in the entire city it seems. That he wanted to be a firefighter when he was young definitely shows. Figures the house has to be protected from heat: His blasting studio music and Yoongi himself are just way too sizzling.

Still melts into a puddle when you kiss his nose.

Couple sunrise watching. 

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.

[enhas-bestie]

uni love [10]

chapter ten: "hee who shall not be named? 🤔"

~*~

why does taehyun always notice everything? you thought in annoyance as you saw his reply to your tweet.

whatever. taehyun could think what he wanted, and you'd just tell him it was a typo later. you put your phone down, turning to the mouthwatering dessert in front of you. you immediately began to dig in, humming in delight as the sweetness hit your tongue. it almost made up for heeseung borderline dragging you to the cafe' across your university, just so that you could watch him and give him pointers from a distance.

you thought it was absolutely ridiculous, but you had promised him that you'd try and set him up with yeji--you just didn't think you'd be secretly sitting in on one of their 'dates'.

it was going well so far, if you did say so yourself. of course, heeseung still looked nervous as hell if you watched him closely. from fidgeting with nearly everything on the table, to readjusting his black baseball cap an unreasonable amount of times, heeseung was without a doubt feeling a bit anxious.

he'd send you a couple of pleading glances during his conversation with yeji, and it made you very much regret choosing to sit at the far away booth in the corner of the cafe' where he had a perfect view of you.

and yes. that's how you spent twenty minutes of your thursday afternoon. semi-glaring at heeseung everytime you caught his eye, and praying that yeji wouldn't turn around and catch sight of you.

bless her soul,, but when she left, you nearly cried in relief.

you carefully picked up your milkshake and desserts, balancing them carefully as you made your way to heeseung's table. "what was that ?"

"what was what?" heeseung replied casually. he took a sip of his coffee and sighed happily, "can't believe I was just on a date with yeji."

"me neither." you replied , "especially since you looked so scared the whole time. and please tell me why you were looking at me the whole time? were you trying to get us caught?"

"I don't know... I was just a bit nervous and I needed a distraction."

"a distraction from your date?" you shook your head in disbelief, "why would you want to be distracted on a date that you literally begged me to set you up on?"

shrugging slightly, heeseung took his cap off with a sigh, allowing his hair to fall freely across his forehead. you were once again awed and slightly annoyed at how attractive he was. "what's your deal heeseung?"

"my deal?"

"yeah," you took a bite of your pastry, "i don't know if you know this or anything, but you're kind of attractive. I also assume you're smart, since you're a TA and everything . and from what I've heard, you're pretty likable," you pause, "actually scratch that. the people who said you were likeable are unreliable sources--but anyway , why the hell are you so fidgety when it comes to girls?"

when you look back at heeseung, he's slumped in his chair, looking very much troubled and flustered, "it's not all girls... just yeji. I don't know why she makes me so nervous. look--I'm talking to you just fine."

you absentmindedly shake your head while taking a sip of your milkshake. "you're honestly such a mess. and you're also not going to keep yeji's attention if you keep doing whatever the hell it is that you're doing."

rolling his eyes, heeseung throws his cap at you. it hits you lightly on your shoulder and you sneer at him, "oh, he's childish too. what a keeper."

you think you see heeseung smile a bit, but you ignore it in favour of finally finishing off your milkshake. "do you want this?" you ask as you push the last untouched pastry on your plate forward. the shooting pain in your mouth sending a warning to your brain to stop eating the sugary delicacy. you really should get your dentist to check that out.

heeseung perks up and eyes the strawberry tart hesitantly, "i thought you didn't like me. why are you offering me food?"

"because I poisoned it." you reply blankly.

"right." he eyes you suspiciously, but he takes the tart anyway.

"I'm gonna go now. I have class in five minutes and I'm definitely gonna be late if I don't leave now." you stand up and push your chair in, expecting heeseung to wave you off or something. but instead he stands up with you, "I'll walk you."

"really?" you're a bit shocked, but you try not to think anything of his offer. maybe he had class too. "yeah, let's go."

you're about to walk after him, but the black fabric of his baseball cap catches your eye and you snatch it off of the table before it could be left forgotten.

"fidgety. nervous. childish. and forgetful. you're such a catch." you say as you wack him lightly with his cap. heeseung just grins as he takes it out of your hands.

~*~

prev -> chapter ten -> next

synopsis : you have high hopes for your second year of university. so it’s a damn shame that your university’s administration messed up your timestable and put you in a business course you had no intention of being in. you’d think being assigned an attractive teaching assistant would at least make things a little bit better, but of course you were wrong once again. luckily, you’re allowed to swap modules in the new term, but only on the condition that you pass the business module. sounds good,, except for the fact that you’ve never done business in your life...but not to fear! TA Lee Heeseung promises to help make you pass your module.

you just have to set him up with his crush, Hwang Yeji.

p.s. do NOT fall in love with him :)

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