#or I get to herd cats

[lepusrufus]

Trying to get all the companions to develop into the best possible version of themselves truly feels like herding a bunch of stubborn goats I'll be there shouting NO you're not fucking killing yourself OR becoming a god NO you're not ascending and NEITHER ARE YOU put that spear DOWN you're not becoming the ultimate Shar simp NO you're not becoming a mindsquid we're gonna FIX YOU and YOU aren't taking over anything you have the leadership skills and self awareness of an opossum NO your father isn't nice he's an ASSHOLE you need to prioritize yourself more YOU need a bloody vacation preferably with your kids before you give them absent mother trauma and.... you're doing great Minsc keep at it

Bonus points for when you're Durge and trying to be the designated group therapist while Bhaal is zapping what remains of your brain with murder fantasies

[pastafossa]

Trying to write this chapter and I swear to fucking catholic white jesus I'm going to bash both of them over the head with the horny bat, we have been circling this chapter for hours now. Matt: she wanted it in the last chapter, I'm just saying we could make it work

Me, pinching nose before slapping the outline and script: important conversations need to happen here. Plot relevant ones. Not smut. Also she literally has a fractured wrist and nose, a concussion, and fifteen stitches in her leg. At least wait until the sutures come out

Matt: I could be careful. Really careful

Me: No, no, you fucking blueballed-

Matt: that's your fault, not mine

Jane: he really could be careful though, I'm down for the attempt

Me: shut up, you're NOT helping, I'm running this chapter-

Jane: yeah well I didn't vote for you

Me:

[cubbyhole-for-flea-bee]

Apologies

[petit-papillion]

Charles and Lando take time for fans (unlike Max who makes a quick escape) | Miami Grand Prix | 5 May 2024

🎥 sainzzleclerc

[totally-not-deacon]

bedtime story :)

[nevesmose]

Fic ideas: Sevatar's first week as First Captain, where he realizes how many cats he has to herd as part of his new position? Konrad and Mortarion being awful bffs together? Horus and his scrungly new goth brother? Kyroptera joint venting session?

Last Chance on 8th Street

So in a perhaps too literal interpretation I combined "Sevatar's first week herding cats" with "Horus and his scrungly goth brother" and this was where things ended up. Trying to go for a kind of The Iron Giant "stereotypical 1950s USA that never really existed" vibe I think?

Somewhere in the idealised American past, a no-good street punk is sentenced to community service.

He's just so bald, Sevatar thought unkindly as he looked at the back of Police Chief Horus Lupercal's head. So goddamn bald.

It definitely wasn't the first time he had been in the back of a police car, but it was the first time he'd done it without his hands cuffed behind his back.

"You should consider yourself very fortunate to get away with community service after what you did," Horus said, staring daggers at him in the rear-view mirror. "But my father the mayor has decided to try out a new rehabilitation policy on you instead."

That explained the personal chauffeur treatment, Sevatar supposed, grimacing at yet another mention of my father the mayor. If they ever made a talking Horus Lupercal doll, that's what it would say every time you pulled its string.

"Gee whiz, Chief," Sevatar said insincerely. "All this fuss over a little jaywalking?"

"Jaywalking," Horus repeated flatly.

"Yeah, jaywalking. I jaywalked all the way across town at three in the morning to a nice suburban house and then I jaydrove off in their Cadillac. I pulled some jaydonuts in it and then I jayburned it." He shrugged expressively. "But it started with jaywalking."

Horus didn't reply as they halted next to a low, nondescript building with a sign saying 8th STREET MUNICIPAL CAT SHELTER.

"Here we are," he announced. "Your community service. Get out. It's time you met my brother."

"Oh yeah?" Sevatar left the car, scowling, and adjusted his leather jacket with an air of immense self-importance. "And which brother would that be exactly? Because it feels like there's about a hundred of you. Which reminds me," he added nastily, "give my sympathies to Mrs Mayor."

"A real comedian, aren't you?" Horus replied. "Let me put it this way. He's not one of the ones my father the mayor allows to be seen in public."

"Oh shit, is it the crazy one? The one the Army did all those psychic UFO mind control experiments on?"

"Is that what they say about him?" Horus asked innocently. He shouldered open the main door of the building and led Sevatar into a small, dimly-lit reception area empty except for a few metal folding chairs, a desk with a disconnected rotary phone on it, and a poster of a cat on one wall.

"He must be out in the yard," Horus said, gesturing to a door leading to the rear of the building. "And just remember," he continued, turning to point a finger at Sevatar, "when you fail at this, which you will because you're nothing but a worthless punk, I will be here to arrest you personally. Have fun."

With that he left, either ignoring or not hearing Sevatar's response. Sevatar shrugged, lit up a cigarette and headed out into the yard behind the building.

Whatever he'd expected, it wasn't this - an open, grass-covered space dotted with trees and what looked like a variety of homemade cat-sized climbing frames, scratching posts and houses.

And above all, what looked like thousands of cats, everywhere he looked. The most cats he'd ever seen. Like in that horror movie about birds, but... with cats. For some reason every single one of them was some variety of black, grey or white in colour.

Sitting cross-legged in the centre of the yard, surrounded by his own personal clowder, was Konrad Curze, the crazy one of the Mayor's sons.

He was tall, tall enough that you could see it even sitting down, and far thinner than any healthy person should be. He wore grey jeans and a black turtleneck sweater which, combined with his long black hair and intense dark eyes, made him look like a kind of depressed, disappointed beatnik.

The cat hair all over his clothes didn't help.

"Those things will kill you," Curze said, looking over at Sevatar. His voice was raspy, like he'd either used it far too much or far too little.

"What, the cats?"

He shook his head and gently pushed a tuxedo cat with a peculiar marking on its forehead off his lap so he could stand up and walk over to Sevatar. "Cigarettes. Cats will just eat you after you die."

He had to be seven feet tall at least. Sevatar, who fell back on humour at times of uncertainty, found himself compelled to make some kind of remark.

"What's the weather like up there, Legs?"

"Bright and breezy," Curze replied in the same whispery tone. "You must be Jago Sevatarion, here to serve the community."

"It's Sevatar. And yeah, I guess so. Didn't think it would be a community of cats though."

"Cats are vital to the community," Curze replied. "While their actions in keeping down pest populations may seem brutal, or even downright sadistic, their overall contribution is very positive to society."

"Right. But what about, like... endangered birds? Don't they hunt them too?"

"That's utterly irrelevant to me, Sevatar. I just like cats."

They walked together around the yard, with Curze describing in great detail the various duties involved in running the shelter and Sevatar mostly trying not to step on any of the residents.

Eventually his curiosity got the better of him. "You know, they say you're crazy," he ventured at a stopping point in Curze's feline monologue while he was being shown the special-care area.

"They're right," Curze answered bluntly. "Now, Malcharion here is very old and needs his food mushed up with some water."

"Okay. But you don't seem too crazy right now."

Curze paused and looked at him. "I have good days and bad days," he said. "Today is a good day. Do not under any circumstances let Gendor near any of the other cats' food," he added, pointing at a malevolent-looking grey tabby. "He is entirely untrustworthy."

In the end they agreed that Sevatar would be back at nine the next morning, but when the next morning came he woke up at half past eight with no possible way to get to 8th Street on time.

So he gave up and just kind of wandered around, smoking and making vague plans to skip town. That was something people did, after all. Just vanishing one day.

His thoughts were interrupted by a blurry black shape looming up in his peripherial vision. It quickly resolved itself into Konrad Curze and his cat-hair-covered turtleneck who grabbed him forcefully.

"You should be at the cat shelter," Curze rasped, somehow making the phrase into the most terrifying threat Sevatar had ever heard. The taller man had him pinned up against the wall, just about lifting him off his feet through sheer wiry strength, but then he suddenly drew back.

"You weigh hardly anything, Sevatar," he said. "When did you last eat?"

Sevatar told him, and that was how the man who up until that point had seemed intent on killing him insisted on going to the nearest diner instead.

Curze sat opposite him in their booth with a cup of coffee while Sevatar, who had taken the statement to get whatever you want well and truly to heart, was working his way through a cheeseburger, fries, soda, milkshake and a sundae the size of a toddler.

"Today hasn't been a good day," Curze said, as if that explained everything. "I'm given to understand that for you it's this or prison. Is that right?"

Sevatar shrugged. "And, so what if it is?"

Curze thought for a moment, clasping his long fingers around his coffee cup.

"It's very much the same for me," he said eventually. "If I fail at this I'll be of no use at all to my father the Mayor, as Horus so endearingly puts it."

"Is that so?" Sevatar said, or at least intended to say, around a mouthful of burger. It came out as more of a generic inquisitive sound which didn't seem to bother Curze.

"The next step from there would be a long stay at an institution somewhere very far away and, I think, an eventful appointment with a lobotomist. It would be as if I never existed at all."

"That's rough," Sevatar said, not entirely unkindly.

Curze gave a rueful smile. "That's my father," he replied. "He's done it before with his little disappointments. Did you know there used to be twenty of us?"

"No," Sevatar replied, "I didn't know that."

On impulse, he wiped the fry grease off on his white T-shirt and then held out his hand to Curze.

"I'll make you a deal," he said. "Let's help each other to stay out of institutions as long as we can. Just don't try to kill me again."

They shook hands and started discussing how to herd cats.

[rooolt]

Need to see the teens do like regular teen things actually. Like could you imagine these fools trying to plan some sort of outing together. Normal and Link in the group chat in shambles trying to get everyone on track as scary replies with one word every four hours and Taylor seemingly dropped his phone off a bridge with the amount of texts he’s not reading. Normal constantly volunteering hero to drive them places despite not even asking her first and then never actually agreeing on where to go or what movie to see. Eventually they get everything all planned out, but then normal and Taylor remember they forgot hermie and making everyone stop to invite him and then he’s like the busiest person in the world so they have to uproot their entire plans. Idk do we see my vision

[fire-eyed-raven]

Usually I'm all for not treating two characters as a one inseparable unit. I'm all for exploring them separately from each other or considering some interesting rare pair options for them.

But not with Madara. I love Madara very much but I'm sorry his canon obsession with Hashirama can't be ignored by me. I can't separate it from him. Their bond with Hashirama is completely something else. It's a very integral part of who Madara is.

He wants his attention even if it will be in a fight he wants everything Hashirama can give him. He'll recognize him in any situation. He'll be happy to see him even if the last time they have seen each other Hashirama killed him. He talked about uniting Ying and Yang and clearly meant Hashirama as Yang to his Ying. He ended up merging a part of Hashirama into himself in a most literal sense. He can't shut up about Hashirama when we see him as himself and not an impersonator (obito) or through other's memories.

[nevermeanttoknow]

anything can be dog motif if I think about it hard enough. mind when I get you

[ilovebeingaturtle]

87 turtle birth order is whatever's funniest this episode

👏

[beck-nightengale]

Me: Enderal has a very compelling story with memorable characters and deep themes on the human condition

Also me: DANCE RAVE ON THE MOTHERFUCKING STARSHIP THO

[lastoneout]

the real difference between tumblr users and reddit users is that when push comes to shove reddit users can crash the fucking stock market and meanwhile even if you could lead a bunch of tumblr users to water we'd probably all start arguing and trying to drown each other before you could get any of us to actually take a drink

[danekez]

Do you work Instacart?

If you do, don't take orders for Spirit Halloween. It's not worth it.

It's the last week, so much has been shoplifted at this point that the online inventory is COMPLETELY wrong. The store is in shambles. You won't be able to find anything in a reasonable time and the workers cannot help you.

I am a Spirit Employee. I stock and merchandise. I know these stores like the back of my hand. I cannot help you.

[songofwizardry]

so I had the summer (in reality, like… almost three months) off from one of my volunteering roles and I’m 20 minutes into my first meeting back and I am already so irritated and angry. maybe this is Not A Good Sign.

[willkill4pudding]

Have you ever been a "the event is at 5:30 and is a 10 minute walk away so we should leave at 5:15 to be sure we get there on time" kind of person living with a "The event is at 5:30 so we should be getting dressed at 5:30 and leave at 5:45 at the earliest" kind of person?

[thebloodredroses]

Brennan will truly die on any hill, huh...

But to be fair to him he does often get attacked left right and centre by his friends

(also soupnel is my new favourite word)