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[moveslikekeithrichards]

lately my kids have been playing Baby Knife, which consists of somebody acting as a baby with knife hands chasing people while going "baby knife baby knife" over and over. is this a thing or are they just insane

[moveslikekeithrichards]

we have a new teacher this year who has never had kindergarten before & she rounded em all up & told em No Baby Knife and No Zombies and idk how to tell her that 1. all kindergarten recess games boil down to Give Birth And Kill Each Other and 2. the absurd vaguely inappropriate games they make up are usually better than when they try to play an Actual game like soccer

[moveslikekeithrichards]

Baby Knife is straightforward. theres a baby knife. baby knife chases you. thats about it. when they try to play Real Sports every single child is playing by a different set of rules unbeknownst to the others and none of them are playing by the Actual rules. everybody is mad at everybody else and running up to tell on their colleagues for cheating every 3 minutes. this doesnt happen when they play Baby Knife

[kedreeva]

if no one's said it, it's normal. It's just Tag with flavor. Tag is boring so you gotta add imagination.

Our baby knife as kids was Raptor Tag. Raptors hunt in packs so the person who was "it" had to run around pretending to be a velociraptor and to tag people they had to actually tackle them and "eat" them for 5 full seconds (others could come to the rescue and save them in that time, but risked getting eaten too or instead if the raptor switched targets). Eaten players then became raptors, until the whole pack was teamwork-hunting the last wily or lucky kid. There were no winning survivors- the game was won as a group once everyone was a raptor.

[gallusrostromegalus]

My kindergarten played "wolves" where a pack of 4-12 children, usually all the girls, would try to chase down and "kill" the deer (usually me)

I was bulled extensively in elementary school, but 1. Mostly by my teachers and 2. Not during this, because we ALL had PBS Nature and as Deer, I was allowed to gouge, kick, bite, keep running even after being grabbed, or body-check the larger children into the picnic tables and other architecture.

You know, for realism.

In point of fact, I was usually The Deer because I was the best at evading/ not going down without a fight, whereas most boys would just start crying or tattle, which is no fun at all.

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

We were incredibly boring. We played "murder ball" which was just Capture the Flag over the whole school grounds (outdoors only) and violence was permitted using the ball.

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

#We played Leeches (people run past you and you grab their legs and make them fall)#And Roadkill (body-slam your friends to the ground)#The teachers did not like these games

Your school would've loved Get Down, Mr President

[bookobsessed1412]

I never really cared for tag games, but I really enjoyed playing shark on the slides!

[lambiesvault]

Shen Jiu pretending to be drunk (he IS drunk) and pretending to be vulnerable (IS vulnerable) and see what his honourable shidi (sneer, gag) would do. Only to find out the man's as courteous as ever despite their rivalry. It's so stupid he wants to kiss him about it. Except dumbass Liu Qingge won't let him because "Shixiong we can't because you're drunk! I won't dishonor you!" Shen Jiu is pissed, if he weren't drunk (pretend drunk) would he? WOULD HE?????

[rue-x3]

A bit of angst for the night,,

(BUT ALSO A LITTLE DOODLE TREAT AT THE END)

If the visit to the QI household didn’t go so well

Shen Yuan was crouched protectively in front of his children, his large body hulking in an intimidating way as his feathers began to raise. A low rumble broke free from his throat as his pupils constricted, wings spreading wide as he flapped them threateningly.

The little estate raid was going well up until Shen Yuan went to fly away with his children. He was struck out of the air by some form of attack, a blade stuck out of his wing awkwardly. Cultivators had been called down the mountain the moment Shen Yuan was seen fluttering into the human town with large thunderous wingbeats and fury in those normally harmless eyes.

The cultivators hadn't come quickly enough to prevent the death of master of the manor. Still, humans seemed to enjoy avenging one another--which explained the current face off between Shen Yuan and a powerful looking cultivator. Shen Jiu and Yue Qi were tucked behind his talons protectively, the harpy still raising his wings despite the injury--presenting aggressively as he stared down the cultivator.

"It seems the beast of the forest has shown its true colors."

The cultivator spoke coldly, paying no attention to the mortal children tucked behind the creature, clinging to its feathers fearfully. Instead the cultivator lifted a hand, willing the blade that was embedded in Shen Yuan's wing to return to their hand, to be properly wielded.

Shen Yuan turned to look at Shen Jiu and Yue Qingyuan, leaning down to nudge them away with his head. While the cultivator seemed to be preparing for the fight Shen Yuan took the chance to tell Yue Qi and Shen Jiu to go. In his time spent as a harpy he hasn't actually fought anyone--there was never any need to with the reputation of his species. He wasn't confident he could win a fight against an experienced cultivator, and he didn't want to get his children implicated any more than he had.

Shen Jiu stood by the harpy stubbornly, holding onto the feathers by Shen Yuan's talons. Now was no time to be stubborn though because Shen Yuan shook himself free, glaring at Shen Jiu and nudging him and Yue Qi away with his leg--his tone commanding this time as he ordered them to go.

Shen Jiu bit his lip, unwilling to separate before he found himself being tugged away by Yue Qi. Neither of them wanted to leave the harpy--but Yue Qi knew that they'd just get in the way, and that leaving was better for everyone present. While the children fled behind him--leaving lingering glances and wishing the best for their feathered parental figure.

--

GUH anyways so SY doesn't die he's just badly injured or whatever (he hides true strength under all the fluffy feathers)

AND HERE'S THE ART AS PROMISED

Shen Yuan has like EXTREME fluff near his talons :3 His little feather dewlap is like 99% downy feathers.

SY IS ACTUALLY SUPPOSED TO BE ADAPTED FOR COLD LIFE but he very much enjoys not freezing his ass off (he wouldn't, he's so fluffy he's always warm lol) and living in the proper habitat would be pretty lonely for him--SY likes the native wildlivfe actually--so he just chills in the forest. having lived like that for ages SY kinda forgot he doesn't need to migrate during winter and he just follows the other birds when they migrate.

in this au his hair is curly like LBH's--which is why SJ kinda dislikes LBH in this au because after the confrontation YQ and SJ kinda think that SY dies (he said he was going to sleep off his wounds... and he meant it but they thought he was dying because he was so still) and seeing the curly hair of LBH makes him remember the memories of the only loving parental figure he's ever known and also brings the guilt and self loathing he feels because he thinks that he caused SY to die by being captured.

Anyways so they eventually find out that SY's alive (SY ended up moving when he couldn't find SJ or YQ after waking up from healing his injuries--they were on CQ--because his spot at the forest wasn't really safe anymore) after LBH goes missing and ends up meeting SY who's kinda chilling in this new forest and when he returns he tells NYY, who tells SQQ, who's like "hm.. friendly harpy in the woods..?" and goes to investigate. They have a cute reunion and maybe SJ almost cries teehee

UMM yyeah SY's wings are like huge but I can't draw them super huge and like how they turn out so have like minimized harpy wings on SY.

[rue-x3]

Shang Qinghua (Xiang Fei) introducing Shen Qingqiu (Jiu) to stress toys after Shen Qingqiu catches Shang Qinghua stretching the fuck out of the Liu Qingge stress toy he made himself (SQH was mad about LQG fucking up their budgets with property destruction costs yet again)

[rue-x3]

Is it just mama__ week or what? ANOTHER Mamayuan svsss au xd

SQQ who was in charge of taking care of the garden (QHT loved the flowers and she saw that SJ was decently good at it so QJL was like on top of your servant duties you are to tend the garden) and he’s taking care of this beautiful tree and sometimes he rants to it (he has nobody to talk to and at least he knows that the tree won’t spill) and in reality it has a dormant SY who transmigrated. SY’s just been in the darkness (unconsciously cultivating) and while he’s there with little sensations he hears this voice, and feels this teeny amount of warmth (from when SJ presses his palm against his trunk) nearly every day. (SY’s tree trunk is vaguely shaped like a sleeping person, but you’d have to really look for it in order to see it)

Most of the times it’s ranting, but sometimes it’s filled with hopeful mentions of a person named Something-Qi—if the mentions “Qi-ge” are anything to go off of—coming to save them. Sometimes the person rambles on about nonsensical things, cursing at some person named “Qiu something”—Shen Yuan has heard many mentions of two separate Qius, and Shen Jiu (from what he’s gathered) has never seemed to specify which one. Eventually SY has enough cultivation to start perceiving SJ, the darkness is replaced by an omnipotent view of his surroundings (like a drone) and he sees SJ for the first time. Nothing really changes.

This seemingly domestic relationship goes on for a good while, SJ ranting each time he comes to care for SY and SY quietly listening—offering nothing but internal support. Then the visits start becoming less frequent. Each time SJ appears he seems more dejected, like he’s slowly losing himself—mentions of ‘Qi-ge’ slow, becoming nothing more than a name attached to a feeling of hopelessness. SY feels helpless.

Then an incident happens. SJ is running from something—someone and he makes his way to the garden—rushing over to SY to hide near the tree. A man—a servant of the estate seems to furiously chase after him. SJ doesn’t seem like he knows what to do, and SY wishes he could do something. Except this time he does do something. The wind blows through his leaves as Shen Yuan’s trunk moves—shifting and curling like a snake or something similar. The vague shape of a figure sleeping becoming more refined as Shen Yuan’s trunk moves starts to wake up. Shen Jiu just stands behind the tree, watching it with wide awed eyes as the tree seems to wake up just to help him.

First things first, Shen Yuan was pretty huge (not huge enough that SJ’s a speck but big enough where SJ’s like a Barbie (a full sized barbie)… but also like SY’s not carrying SJ like a barbie he had both hands cupped to hold SJ gently) This tree is like humongous, like as huge as an oak tree. His hair is this mass of leaves and there’s like a crown of flowering branches perched atop his head. His eyes—ones he wasn’t aware he had—were shut, but he could still see everything. The clunky figure smoothened out—shaping into something much more humanoid as the seconds passed. By the time the transformation was done a lot more people had come out of the manor to witness the birth of a spirit. QJL himself seemed rather pleased—he’d gotten this tree imported because of its likelihood of becoming a spirit.

Shen Yuan isn’t really interested in whatever QJL is saying to him, he’s not a newborn and he has no filial instincts towards the man who treats a tree better than a human. Instead he faces Shen Jiu, cupping his hands around the child and lifting him to eye level—much to QJL’s astonishment.

“Shen Jiu,”

A pause, speaking physically after years of dormancy required some adaptation. Then, impulsively—

“My child,”

Shen Jiu’s eyes widened, looking at the tree incredulously, but Shen Yuan just cracked his eyes open (immediately closing them due to the overwhelming sensation of still having omnipotent vision as well as having a more focused line of sight in his eyes.) to side eye the manor staff.

Without another word SY’s like “We’re out of here” and the ground starts shaking beneath the manor, Shen Yuan’s pulling all of his roots out and rising to his full height. He steps out of the manor and shoot SJ a smile like “Let’s go find this ‘Qi-ge’, I’m sure he’s bounds better than a child abusers”

Or something uhhh I messed up the end I don’t like how I did it wwww

[hppjmxrgosg]

proud victim of the tumblr accent. it's fading out of public consciousness as the tik tok accent takes precedence; a linguistic evolution that makes the tumblr accent 85% funnier to unsuspecting civilians. it's like releasing a disease on a non-inoculated population. coughing baby versus hydrogen bomb.

[inconspectus]

once my therapist said I used very uncommon and creative phrases and adjectives and i just did not have the heart to tell that Old Lady From A Foreign Small Town that I was translating tumblr speech into our language. so I was like yeah... must be from the books I read...

like girl we have an army of scholars over at tumblr.com crafting our language it's not just little old me I swear

[copperbadge]

I once called a colleague's Borzoi a beautiful Gentle Alien, assuming the term had long since become commonplace outside of Tumblr, and discovered when he burst into delighted laughter at the term that it Had Not. I had to explain to him that I'm not a comedy genius, just repeating a niche meme.

[charlesoberonn]

We need more scary infinite variants of manmade environments like the Infinite IKEA or the Backrooms.

May I suggest, The Lot:

[charlesoberonn]

I'm sorry to disappoint you but this is a real parking lot. I didn't edit it.

[charlesoberonn]

Check out the lot-to-building ratio in any large American sports stadium

[toawk]

Some lots are so big they have bus services specifially inside it. The lots are broken into sections and buses go around to their sections at a set amount of times before the start of something and drive people to the main building.

[charlesoberonn]

The societies of lost people inside The Lot would probably operate something like that to locate and pick up new arrivals and bring them over to one of the major settlements.

[charlesoberonn]

In the Infinite Ikea or Backrooms you can convince yourself there's gonna be a door round the next corner or behind that wall.

But despite it being completely open, there is no hope of escape from The Lot. Whereever you look it's just more cars from horizon to horizon.

[bonediggercharleston]

Sheesh, man, that's

a lot

[yujateaandpi]

Was driving with my grandmother and in broken English she says “no eyes… no nose… no face. Don’t trust.” To which I looked around wildly in search of this omen of ill portend.

Cybertruck. It was a cybertruck.

[edgar-allan-possum]

Most important topic in conservation and no one's talking about it

[galileosballs]

I'm in favour of people getting weird with pronouns, but nobody gets grammatically weird enough with pronouns. You can mess around with the declensions if you want. Yeah, my pronouns are 'she/she'. That's right, I don't have an accusative form. I refuse to be an object, direct or otherwise.

[curlicuecal]

so I've thought of a new way to apply she/they

[datasoong47]

My pronouns are they/them. Ergative

[brightlotusmoon]

Ergative Verbs: Usage and Examples - The Blue Book of Grammar and Punctuation

We know that verbs are words that describe a mental or physical action, a state of being, or an occurrence. We also understand that they rel

[atelier-tamamoland]

sixpencee got less hate for straight-up admitting to owning a child slave than I do for saying children shouldn't be treated as property

[atelier-tamamoland]

like i'll say "parents should not be able to unilaterally override their child's consent" and some dipshit will see the word consent and the smoke from the hollowed-out crater that used to be their critical thinking skills will immediately coalesce into a message in my ask box calling me a pedo. no fucking hope for any of you

[atelier-tamamoland]

which I say, by the way, because one of my closest friends was able to be effectively disappeared off the face of the earth and sent into the woods to be sexually abused and tortured into being straight due to parents effectively owning their children as property. if you are a minor your consent simply does not actually matter - whether you get vaccinated, whether you get to go to school, whether people get to hug touch you, what you wear, how your hair is cut, what your hobbies are, whether you get to have friends, and yes, whether you want to be sent to a torture camp in the woods or not - your consent is entirely meaningless because your parents can simply override it, and there's fuckall you can do about it, because you aren't a person, you're just property. the family dog has more protections against being abused than children do

but! if you ever point this out you get called you a rapist

[dragon-in-a-fez]

one of the funniest conversations I ever had with my ex was when they were still getting used to Celsius and asked me "what's 20 degrees?" and instead of converting it, I said "it's the highest your dad will ever let you set the thermostat and when you say you're cold he tells you to put on another sweater, we're not made of money" and they went "oh, 68"

the fact that this reference was that fucking precise was something they went on to tell people about for years.

[brightlotusmoon]

Scientists finally complete Schrödinger’s 100-year-old color theory

Scientists finally complete Schrödinger’s 100-year-old color theory

Researchers have finally resolved a key problem in a 100-year-old theory of color, showing that the qualities we perceive in colors are intr

I didn't know about this. I have to wonder what it is about red, which has more positive connotations than negative, like in the example of the children's hospital floor being painted with a wide stripe of blood red like a dragged body and

Somebody just shoved me in a box. There's a cat in here. I think I'm getting radiation poisoning. Can someone answer my question?

[rheitais]

Tucker: Go on vacation they said. Gotham isn't that bad they said. Slap me hard and call me Daniel Fenton because what are even the chances of me getting kidnapped?!

Cass: 1 in every 2 people.

Tucker: Wait seriously?

Cass: mhm!

Tucker: Ha. Haha. Hahahahaha.

Cass: you ok?

Tucker: I'm just plotting my best friends murders. Well i can plot Sam's. Danny maybe not.

Cass: Didn't come with?

Tucker: No. The love birds paid for my trip here while they went who knows where.

Cass: Bad friends. Gotham is never safe.

Tucker: Well I'm dumb for believing them before doing my research. I swear I can hear them mocking me from here.

Cass: You're not scared about this?

Tucker: Nah, I mean realistically I should be but like I've been through worse.

Cass: Like?

Tucker: Oh where do I even start? Being held hostage? Dragons, undead pirates, rockstars and like several other things that don't even come close. These guys are human and their knot work? Needs better work. *Jazz hands*

Cass: Pff. Yes it does. *also free*

Tucker: I knew you were cool. We should just leave. These guys might not even see us slip out if they aren't paying attention to us now.

Cass: Window over there should help us.

Tucker: I'll just follow you.

[Masterpost]

[fanficideasupforgrabs]

Imagine Elf!Jaskier who wears a glamour, because he ran away from home when he was a kid and elves don’t actually reach maturity until around 70 to 80 years old. But he doesn’t want to be recognized, so he ages himself up considerably, and uses a bit of magic to get an education at Oxenfurt. Inevitably though, he gets bored of learning and sitting around all day (as children often do), so he decides to become a traveling bard.

And Jaskier is a little surprised that no one actually notices he’s a child disguised as an adult, but he has always been called mature for his age. Plus, part of the reason he left his home in the first place was because he wasn’t allowed to be a kid, so it makes sense in a way that he’s so good at playing his part. It helps that he’s able to use his magic to give himself an image of a human with very strong…carnal, desires. That part was actually a lot easier than he’d thought it would be, as memory-altering magic was one of the first things he’d learned from his tutors with his former family.

The biggest problem he’d come across was that his glamour didn’t seem to hold if he used his magic. Which had been a fun little bit of information to learn when he’d saved a mother and her child from a group of robbers at 17 and promptly had to run away in the night when they wouldn’t let him leave. Something about him looking no older than four years old, which Jaskier at the time thought was silly as he hadn’t been an infant for years.

So he’d been sure to never use his magic around anyone he didn’t plan on spelling, after that. He’d been a little concerned that Geralt would notice he doesn’t age, due to the simple nature of the glamour, but it seemed as long as he changed his hair and clothing often enough he could mimic the effect of growing older. Sort of. It probably helped that the witcher just…didn’t care all that much what the bard did as long as he wasn’t causing trouble or making noise.

Which was fine, really. Jaskier wasn’t looking for a family when he decided to follow Geralt around. He didn’t need anyone to take care of him when he was sick or to fawn over every scratch and bruise. He just—just wanted someone to want him, to want Jaskier, and told himself that would be enough. To be wanted, if not cared for or loved.

Which made the current situation of traveling with Ciri, Yennefer, and Geralt more than a little painful. Not only did the witch not seem to want him around, but Geralt seemed to care more about keeping the peace than defending the bard from the witch’s cruel barbs. Which was fine, really, he could handle a few mean words. He wasn’t a child—in their eyes, at least.

And maybe he was a little jealous of Ciri, of the way that she was practically showered in the care and kindness that he’d so desperately craved and never seemed to find. He found himself wondering, at night, why his parents hadn’t seemed to view him as Geralt and Yennefer viewed Ciri. Considered that maybe he was the problem, if the way the witch and witcher treated him in comparison to the princess was any indication.

But even though he didn’t favor Ciri the way his other traveling companions did, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t risk anything to save her. Jaskier was a little surprised at how easy it was to come to the decision to break his cover when the group found themselves captured by Nilfgaardian soldiers, the other three in demeritium cuffs. There was no true reason not to, he realized as his form shrunk due to throwing the nearest soldier into a tree with a crack. Yennefer was part elf, Geralt didn’t have any prejudice against other races, and Ciri seemed to actually favor non-human beings if her choice in bedtime stories/songs was any indication.

And the Nilfgaardians? Well, he didn’t plan on leaving any alive to spread rumors.

Thus, when the bard finished his rampage, he found himself rather glad that he’d been wearing red already as he wandered around, looking for the keys to the cuffs. He could hear his traveling companions asking him questions, but honestly, he was feeling rather tired after using so much magic at once, and was not at all in the mood for an interrogation. So he threw the keys to Geralt, shivered a bit as his glamour reformed itself, and said something about finding Roach as he stumbled away.

He must have looked truly awful when he came back with the mare, because Geralt insisted he ride Roach as they left the bloodied clearing. Which was…very strange, as only Ciri had been allowed to ride the horse in their travels the past few months. Not to mention that even before Ciri, riding the witcher’s mare was an occasion saved for when the bard was actively dying, or close to it.

But Ciri and Yennefer didn’t seem upset by Geralt’s offer, and Jaskier wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth (he mentally chuckled, too tired to actually laugh at the irony), so he climbed onto her before anyone could change their minds. And Jaskier must have been a lot more exhausted than he thought, because the next thing he knew, he was lying on his bedroll next to a roaring fire, with Geralt handing him a rather large portion of rabbit and bread.

Which Jaskier would have loved to eat, but the intense stares of his traveling companions made his stomach twist in on itself in painful knots, so he found himself setting aside the food as he explained…well, everything. He glossed over the bit about why he left his home as a child, not exactly wanting to go into the details, but explained about the glamour and why it had temporarily dropped.

To his surprise, the first question after he finished talking was if maintaining the disguise had any negative side effects. Jaskier just kind of…blinked, at Yennefer, his head tilted as he tried to figure out the motivation behind the inquiry. But the witch seemed oddly sincere, so Jaskier shook his head, explaining that it just didn’t work due to the two separate magics canceling it out for some reason.

And then there were a lot of other strange questions that left Jaskier even more confused. Yes, his form earlier was his true age. Yes, he was aware that he looked to be around nine or ten years old in human years. No, his mentality didn’t change between forms. No, his glamour wasn’t attached to his body, it was maintained through wearing his ring. Yes, he could remove the glamour if he wanted to do so temporarily, though he didn’t see the point. No, his glamour didn’t change based on if he slept, ate, etc., not unless he wanted it to do so. And no, he’d never actually spent the night with anyone, Melitele help him Geralt, he hadn’t even technically hit puberty yet, gross!

The witcher and witch looked far more relieved at that than Jaskier thought they should, but whatever. At least it seemed to signal the end of the weird line of questioning, which Jaskier was thankful for, as he was rather hungry and tired.

Jaskier woke up the next morning, thinking that would be it and everything would go back to normal, but it…didn’t? Because Yennefer stopped being…well, mean, for lack of a better word, Geralt didn’t yell at him like usual for sleeping in, and Ciri was strangely insistent that he ride Roach again today.

It was bizarre, though not as strange as Yennefer and Geralt’s insistence that he not wear his glamour when they were traveling between towns. He tried to point out that he wouldn’t be able to travel as fast with his shorter legs, and that he might attract unwanted attention, but they waved away his concerns easily, claiming he could always ride Roach and wear a cloak.

Needless to say, Jaskier was so busy reeling from those words that he missed their explanation for why he shouldn’t always have the glamour up. Something about not being able to tell if he was eating enough or wounded, which was even weirder, as just two days ago they seemed fine trusting him to take care of himself. And when he tried to point this out, they both looked so painfully sad that Jaskier just took the ring off, deciding it wasn’t worth the headache of analyzing their reactions.

If Jaskier thought that the weird change would last a day or two at most though, he was sorely mistaken. It seemed that even though Jaskier hadn’t actually been de-aged overnight, that didn’t stop the others from treating him as the child they now knew him to be.

Which was…nice, in some regards. He got to ride Roach more, for one, and when he asked if they could take a break, or complained about being hungry, tired, cold, hot, Yennefer and Geralt didn’t just roll their eyes like usual.

Honestly, the first time he whined about his feet being sore, a common complaint due to his fabulous boots that weren’t necessarily made for traveling, he’d expected to be ignored. Or for Geralt to once more say something about spending his coin on practical footwear rather than a new doublet. But the witcher had looked between where Ciri was napping on the mare being led by Yennefer, back to Jaskier, and asked if the bard wanted to be carried. Jaskier’s jaw had practically dropped to the forest floor at that, and it took Geralt lumbering forward to see if he was okay to break the elf out of his daze. He waved the witcher away, muttering something about being fine as he hurried to catch up with Yennefer, not ready to even try to process whatever….that, was.

But Jaskier couldn’t deny that it was…nice, being carried, when the bard slipped and twisted his ankle while washing in a river a month later. Weird, and definitely foreign, but nice nonetheless.

Still, he didn’t need Yennefer to waste her magic fixing his ankle, not when it would be fine in a day or so. He rolled his eyes at the way she insisted he join her and Ciri for magic lessons, ignoring how pleasant it felt to be included. He tried and failed to reject the larger portions of food Geralt and Yennefer kept forcing on him, something about how he looked too skinny in his true form.

However, not all changes were so pleasant and unobtrusive. Both Yennefer and Geralt had nearly had a fit when at the next town he’d said he was off to the market to try to earn some coin while Geralt took a contract and Yennefer and Ciri stayed at the room they’d acquired. It took the bard pointing out he’d defended himself fine for 25 years, and that they needed the money for supplies, for them to reluctantly let him go.

Not to mention how they kept stealing his ale, doing their best to keep him from alcohol in general as if, again, he hadn’t been drinking for the last quarter of a century. He found more than a little pleasure at the way the witch and witcher could do little more than glower when a particularly adoring fan would give him their own drink. If they didn’t like it, than they shouldn’t look, it’s not as if he needed someone to babysit him through his set at every. Single. Tavern.

Though it was…a little nice, he’d admit, how they’d drag him away from any admirers that got a little too handsy. He appreciated how Yennefer would keep up his rouse, pretending to be interested in spending a night with him so that he could maintain his reputation.

It was all weird, and confusing, but as the days, weeks, months passed, it became a new normal. Jaskier got used to a calloused hand ruffling his hair, goodnight forehead kissses when he was on the verge of sleep, and waking up to an extra blanket covering him on particularly chilly nights.

It wasn’t like anything he’d ever known before, and he wasn’t sure how long it would last. But it was nice, and it was his, and that was really all that mattered to him.

All he’d ever wanted, really.

[specialagentartemis]

Grace and Rocky, giving a tour of the Hail Mary to fascinated Eridian scientists and diplomats.

Pointing at things and explaining what they are and how the ship works, lots of awed and appreciative noises are made.

Until one of the visiting Eridians points out a specific item. “And that?”

It’s a strange, circular thing, a xenonite disk mounted upright on some sort of pivot so it can spin freely, but around the edges it has… spokes? Pegs? Sticking out of it, that hit against a stiff flap that would slow down the spinning.

It is also separated into sections decorated with crude etchings of a human and an Eridian.

“Ah,” Grace says.

“That,” Rocky says.

“That’s. Um.” Grace seems somewhat embarrassed. “That’s the sacrifice wheel.”

The Eridian visitors clearly do not know what to make of that. “We think we misunderstood Savior Grace’s word,” they say, apparently hoping this is a vocabulary mix-up. “Explain (question, polite)?”

“Didn’t misunderstand,” says Rocky, sounding very sheepish. “That is sacrifice wheel.”

“So. While we were on our way to Erid, we might have gotten… anxious about each other’s well-being,” Grace says, which everyone is already very aware is a wild understatement. “And, well, you heard what happened at Tau Ceti, and after. There were a lot of unexpected dangers for the whole trip that required a lot of, at least, attempted self-sacrifice to solve. We ended up almost dying for each other several times. And we had an argument about what we’d do if another crisis like that came up. And we couldn't agree.”

“Grace argued that Grace already was unlikely to survive long-term on Erid, so he should be the one to do any potential deadly but necessary maneuvers to make sure I was able to bring taumoeba back,” Rocky says.

“Which made sense.”

“Did not make sense! Grace already sacrificed so much for me and for Erid, wouldn’t be fair to make you do it again—“ Rocky cuts himself off with a huff. They have obviously had this conversation before. “So sacrifice wheel was compromise.”

“Yeah,” Grace says. He spins it to demonstrate; it whirls around in a blur and a rattle of the flap hitting the pegs, then eventually slows down, and stops—pointing at the segment depicting a very bad but very clear image of an Eridian. “Rocky made the wheel, I spin the wheel, and whoever it lands on, that’s who gets to sacrifice themself to save the other and the other person does not get to argue. This way, we wouldn’t waste time debating who does the self-sacrifice and who survives, it’s just a plain fifty-fifty chance. Or, eighteen-eighteen chance in base six. But the point is it could be either of us and we would have to accept the outcome.”

Rocky started fidgeting while Grace was explaining. When Grace finishes, proud of the equitable solution they came up with to allow them to die for each other fairly, Rocky says, “Now that we are back and we don’t need sacrifice wheel anymore… I have confession to make. About the wheel.”

“What about the wheel?”

Rocky doesn’t answer. Grace frowns, first confused, then suspicious, and spins the wheel again.

It lands on Rocky again.

He spins the wheel again, and again, and again, and it lands on Rocky every single time.

“Rocky!”

“I weighted the wheel,” Rocky admits.

“Rocky the whole point was that it was equal, that was why we even made it—“

“Never was necessary so doesn’t matter anymore!”

“But you WOULD have!”

“And you never noticed because you were hungry and cranky and distracted and so would have done bad job on heroic self-sacrifice anyway!”

“I would not! I would have done fine!”

(The Eridian scientists and diplomats are still here watching this btw. Slowly dawning on them that 1) these two are extremely not normal about each other 2) if Erid ever does another space mission they NEED to send a therapist aboard because this is what happens when they don’t)

[ghost-kings-court-jester]

I know he can turn it off and on but there’s still something so funny to me about the idea of Hua Cheng, the walking wind chime, getting jump scared by his stealth lord of a husband. Like Xie Lian is just built to sneak up on him. Cause not only does Hua Cheng have a giant blind spot, Xie Lian’s short king status also puts him outta Hua Cheng’s direct eye-line and he’s been a martial artist since he was like 5. He is now 800, and some change. Like, I know he is silent, and I truly wonder how long it takes Hua Cheng to wonder if he should also decorate his Dianxia in bells so he doesn’t scream and embarrass himself because he keeps getting jump-scared by him.