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#this meme came to me in a dream last night

oysters-aint-for-me · 5 months

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i had a dream last night that it was my birthday and i was in disney world and i was on the phone, talking to someone named “russell” who “did not have a gender i would recognize” (not something that was said so much as understood via dream logic) and they were saying to me, “it’s your birthday, and i really wanted to get you something you’d love, something you’ve wanted your whole life,” and i was utterly enthralled, couldn’t wait to find out, so i said “what is it?” and russell said “how would you like to be—” but at that exact moment i was just stepping on to one of those boats in the jungle cruise ride and it was full of friends, and they all yelled “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” and covered up what russell said. dream-me did not want to have a big party or see a lot of people on my birthday, but didn’t want to be ungrateful to them, so while i was still on the phone w russell i reacted to my friends on the boat like “oh my gosh i can’t believe it, this is so nice! you shouldn’t have!” then i realized russell probably thought i was reacting to whatever they had said they were going to give me, so i said to my friends “just give me one second” and i got on the phone and said “sorry a bunch of people yelled and covered up the last part of what you said - ‘how would i like to be’ what?”

and russell said in this uncanny, numinous voice: “KNOWN.”

and i thought oh…i’m not sure i do want…that…

but i didn’t want to disappoint russell by making them think at first that i was really excited (due to my [also fake!] reaction to my friends on the jungle cruise boat) and then disappointing them by rejecting their gift of being “KNOWN,” so i pretended to cry and be really touched and i thanked them - but i also knew i was lying to this who claimed to “KNOW” me and i also knew that they didn’t know i was lying, and so i knew they didn’t, couldn’t actually “KNOW” me, but i had to pretend that they did anyway, because russell seemed so pleased with themself.

and then i had to figure out how to either gracefully get off the phone with someone who claimed that they “KNEW” me so i could join a party that i didn’t want on the disney world jungle cruise with friends i didn’t really know, OR how to gracefully excuse myself from this party i didn’t really want so i could keep taking to russell about how this “KNOWING” thing was gonna play out.

next thing i remember i was looking for a bathroom (i suppose i had excused myself to go to the bathroom) but all of the toilets were out of order or too big or too small or in the middle of my high school auditorium or too, like, surreal or cubist or dadaist, or otherwise haunted or emanating evil energy and bad vibes - which is a recurring dream for me - i was like “well this is miserable but at least it’s familiar” ???? like, ok, subconscious, that’s a Choice…

#my dreams #idk i know listening to people talk about their dreams is boring but i like to record them when i remember them #didn’t smoke too much weed last night which always make me have weird dreams #i think the name ‘russell’ comes from the fact that i’m watching seinfeld season 4 #and there’s a character named russel dalrymple in that season (he’s an nbc exec producing george and jerry’s pilot)#no clue where the jungle cruise came from #the being known thing…well i’ve been reading a lot of good omens fics from 2019 #which is when ‘the mortifying ordeal of being known’ meme was at its height #so a lot of fics are tagged w that???

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memesonnets · 8 months

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you guys will never believe the horrors the muses beamed into my brain last night

Stop clownin' on 'em, Ronald

And I'm fun like a bozo (bozo) I'm a clown but I still got that flow tho (flow tho) No thoughts like my brain is cement (ment) I'm a one I belong in a tent Ruff collar it's frilly (grrah) All of the bozos is silly (silly) All of the bozos is glad It clowns (it clowns) and we ain't pulling gags (grrah)

Glad (glad), but he prank me when I get bad, Greatest like Barnum and Bailey (Bailey) Drama like Cirque du Soleil leap I'm a bozo girl (girl), bozos we clean house Flower button be squirting shit got humidity like a greenhouse (woo) Feelin' out, we be dealin' out, Pick a card but don't be revealin' out, Got the trick sleeve we're concealin' out, In that little clown car we peelin' out Cannonball blow the red ceilin' out Cartwheel somersault we freewheelin' out They be reelin' feelin' and squealin' out It's bozo, bitch, if you still in doubt

On silks I'm doing the big drop The clowns all play in the big top (big top) They can't make this gig stop (grrah) I'm washing this costume, I'm making my wig flop Like my brain is cement (grrah) All the real bozos just wanna be friends (like) Tightrope I'm followin' all 'round the bend (grrah) Look where it led, now I'ma see where it ends She a bozo bitch with a bozo clique (grrah) I keep prankin' her, so she gawk a bit (damn) And the circus tix yeah I hawking it (damn) And I got the nose so I honking it (honk) And I wear the shoes so I stomping it (like) And it's circumstance with no pomp in it (damn) Yeah, I know the trick, here's the card you picked (damn) Yeah, they know who's It, me and bozo, bitch

*Fade out to Julius Fučík's Entrance of the Gladiators*

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infinitegenderlessmess · 2 years

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@monstrousagonies ep66 this bit after the first letter made me think of something

[id: a screenshot of a podcast transcript. The Presenter (as themselves) saying “That’s, uh. Yeah, that’s a tricky one, yeah.” End id]

[id: An Avatar the last airbender “that’s rough buddy” meme. The top panel shows Sokka saying “my family’s being a bitch about my reanimation”, the bottom panel shows Zuko saying “that’s rough buddy.” End id]

#monstrous agonies #memestrous agomemes #it was mostly the delivery of thats a tricky one #the Presenter's suspicious headache made them sound a bit out of it at points and here it Almost sounded like they didnt know how to respond #honestly for a second thought they had lost it in the sunlight bit cause i did not see where the advice was going until it got there #low effort memes that came to me in dreams #legit last night was falling asleep and had to write this down so i could remember to make it today

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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months

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Genuinely so obsessed with the ask you answered about reader being associated with König’s childhood bullies and coming back years later to try and make amends……. I need the angst, the drama, the nasty disgusting degrading sex, the absolute turmoil on both of their parts 😭 I am starving for this, the way you portray König especially there is exactly how I’ve always envisioned him in my mind!!!!!! And then with reader desperately trying to make him happy now out of guilt and her crush that’s grown 10x since she saw him in school, delusionally hoping and believing there’s a *relationship* between them and she can fix what she thinks she allowed to happen back then 10 years after the fact, while König is constantly fighting himself to not fall for reader despite his own buried crush resurfacing, and convincing himself he’s only using her to release stress and tension after assignment while simultaneously holding so much resentment for her and her sheer proximity to the people that tormented him back then, I am foaming at the mouth for the toxic dynamics to be found there !!!!!!!!! The old him begging to fulfill some childish need to have her, while this new monstrous version of himself only wants to watch her suffer to repent for how he had to suffer !!!!!!!!!!!!

I know right?! I’m obsessed with this too!

I’m so here for the toxic relationship dynamic (sue me), also me and @bucca2/@wordstome had a whole conversation about this yesterday because König would bend over backwards to self sabotage this shit.

(The following is mainly a summary from our brainstorm session from last night + I have bucca to thank for the precious meme at the end, it’s König in a nutshell with his high school crush lol)

First of all our girl is sooo in love. She was in love when they were young, but now? She’s a goner, König is out of this world. He's so handsome, so confident, the epitome of cool if there ever was one... and God, would you look at those muscles?

Now she can finally drool all over him but back then, what was she to do? As the shy one of the clique, she always tried to avoid attention; she could never have endured what König did. Perhaps it was cowardly of her, but she really was just scared. She could only dream about him from afar, and in her dreams, they would both change schools due to their parents moving or something... Ending up in the same area, finally getting to be together like it was a miracle, Deus ex Machina.

Her silly dreams never came true, but it looks like they're coming to fruition now. And this time, she's going to make everything better! Now that they're both grown up and free from their tormentors she can finally admit that she has feelings for him, feelings that are only sparked fast aflame when she sees the man he has become.

And König can’t stand it.

Where was she when he was odd and scrawny? Where was she when he cried himself to sleep over her?? Of course she wants him now that he’s big, independent and menacing, an odd nerd who discovered guns and gym... He thought she was better than this.

Deep inside, he’s still like this:

...but we just need to forget about it because König is NOT going to fold for this girl.

He’s not.

And the sex is so NASTY. Bordering on degrading, König wants to be a gentleman when it comes to ladies, but this one? This one he wants to fuck like he paid for her. She brings out the beast in him, and he finds himself asking her to get on her knees and blow his cock on some filthy cruise... Fucks her like he doesn’t love her, and she’s absolutely lovestruck, when did König become so mean? (God, that she loves him)

Trying not to fall in love with her (as if he ever fell out), König is so incredibly mad at this girl – is this what she wanted this whole time? A buff jerk who fucks her doggystyle until her knees bleed, who gives her the bare minimum, who barely even calls her when he’s away? (He has to physically restrain himself from doing that because of course he’d like to hear her pick up the phone with pure hope in her voice)

While changing his tactics and devising a plot to make her pay, König doesn’t even understand that he’s falling fast for her again while becoming now (seemingly) the best version of himself. It's only to dump her later, of course. He's just being nice so that she'll cry over losing him later. He brings her flowers, eats her out for hours, getting sick satisfaction from the way she cries about how it’s the best sex she’s ever had. He’s going to bring her to her knees, in more ways than just one... She’s going to remember him for the rest of his life when he rearranges her guts, ruining her for any other man.

König is becoming the thing he hates the most while she’s learned her lesson, now wearing her heart on her sleeve. No more shame and secrets, she’s not afraid to tell him how she feels! How she always had a small crush on him… And not even that small… How she loved to hear his presentations, no matter what silly subject they were about because he had actually done his research. How she could’ve swooned when his voice changed. After a short breaking period, he started to talk lower than anyone else in the class, earning himself more of that bullying because he sounded so manly at such a young age.

König is about to burst a blood vessel when hearing all this: she had a crush on him back then? What the actual fuck??

And then come the cuddles, the slow mornings, the coffee and toast, the showering together… She leaves her toothbrush in his place, and it stares at him accusingly from the side of the sink. She wears his t-shirts and looks absolutely gorgeous, mouth-watering and sweet in them. His sexy little minx, the one who didn’t get away…

Wait, what? No. No. No!

And when his high school sweetheart confesses her love for him for the first time, she's so open and vulnerable and sweet about it. Like she has been from the start, his sweet, sweet girl, exactly the kind of woman he always wanted to bring home to see his mom. König is about to lose his mind when she tugs at his shirt, almost cries when she says how much she loves him and couldn’t bear to live without him… She would cry herself to the grave if anything ever happened to him…

(König is like:)

#könig angst #könig fluff #mmm this is so nasty and delicious #they're practically soulmates #collaborating with other writers #könig x highschool sweetheart

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jannwrites · 1 year

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book meme : A MONSTER CALLS by PATRICK NESS.

a selection of lines from the novel a monster calls. modified slightly for rp purposes.

what happened in the nightmare is something no one else ever needs to know.

don't be stupid. you're too old for monsters.

shout all you want. i've seen worse.

you really aren't afraid, are you?

i'm sorry i wasn't up.

was that you i heard last night?

i thought i was dreaming but i could have sworn i heard your voice.

there's the smile i love.

i wish you didn't have to be quite so good.

don't think you haven't lived long enough to have a story to tell.

why did you butt in when it was none of your business?

i'm kind of used to it by now.

open up. i want to talk to you.

it is not what i want from you. it is what you want from me.

i am everything untamed and untameable.

i am this wild earth, come for you.

stories are the wildest things of all. stories chase and bite and hunt.

you know that your truth, the one that you hide, is the thing you are most afraid of.

we need to talk about what's going to happen.

nothing i do seems to make you frightened of me.

you thought i might have come to topple your enemies. slay your dragons.

you would not say that if you heard the screams of a man killed by a spear. or his cries of terror as he was torn to pieces by wolves.

i know injustice when i see it.

sometimes people need to lie to themselves most of all.

how long are you here for?

i'll come back, though.

i'm fine on my own.

you would give up everything you believed in?

that's quite a mess you made.

i know i must look a fright.

this is a talk, isn't it? everybody always wants to have a talk lately.

stories don't always have happy endings.

you still do not know why you called me, do you?

stories are important. they can be more important than anything. if they carry the truth.

i no longer see you.

there once was an invisible man who had grown tired of being unseen.

it was not that he was actually invisible. it was that people had become used to not seeing him.

if no one sees you, are you really there at all?

i will make them see me.

you think i'm ever going to be afraid of you?

what secrets do you hide that are so terrible?

there are harder things than being invisible.

i've never been more sorry about anything in my life.

i think, deep in your heart, you've always known. haven't you?

it's okay that you're angry.

i'm pretty angry myself.

i know everything you needed to tell me without you having to say it out loud.

i wish i had a hundred years. a hundred years i could give to you.

i did not come to heal them. i came to heal you.

it will kill you if you do not. you must say it.

a part of you wished it would just end. even if it meant losing them.

you were merely wishing for the end of pain. your own pain.

it is the most human wish of all.

you do not write your life with words. you write it with actions.

#rp meme #rp ask meme #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters #* mine.#if you're into grief narratives boy howdy is this the book for you.#meme: book.

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ashlingiswriting · 7 months

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do i know you? chapter eight

[ chapter eight — 6.4k words ] [ masterlist ] [ prev chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven ] "well, now you know what to get me for christmas." richie jerimovich x reader, past mikey berzatto x reader, slow burn warning: drugs, insects

the next day, you wake to your customary darkness. outside your window light snow whispers against your window and thick clouds beyond promise there’s more where that came from. you pull a mini pizza from the freezer, crack an egg on top and put it in the toaster oven, call that protein. boil some water in your smallest pot. pull out your favorite chipped blue mug.

the dream did come last night, but its dread was dulled by early waking. you’re grateful for that. this is about as good as it gets, you think: tea on the way, a thick stillness enveloping your apartment, the city outside preparing to sleep while you keep watch.

but wait, the phone.

you go into your room and kneel by the bed.

michael’s small box is half-empty now that you’ve put his shirt in the wash, so the nokia is easy to find. when you flip it open, he’s there, waiting for you—one unread text—and in the sleepy silence, a bubble of incredulous unreality balloons and then bursts. it’s not michael.

they all blur into each other like drops of blood in water: you’re crushed to find that he’s still gone, relieved he’s still gone, guilty you were relieved, relieved that richie’s texted—no, happy—no, that’s embarrassing, but you can’t help it. it’s happiness and it’s something else. happiness is the warmth by your side and something else is the radiator.

the message turns out to be a single emoji, the one with the pink tongue sticking out. definitely richie. with no idea what that’s supposed to mean, you try to think of something equally silly. failing that, you pull up wikipedia on the phone and generate random wikipedia articles until you finally come across a fragment that strikes you as too beautiful to pass up. you weren’t looking for beautiful, but what the hell, it’s charmed you. copy, paste, and send.

> it was announced on january 30, 2023, that she will be writing an original poem dedicated to nasa's europa clipper. the europa clipper will launch in 2024, and by 2030, will be orbiting jupiter. limón's poem will be engraved into the craft.

not expecting an immediate reply, you replace the lid on the box and slide it back under your bed, only to hear the vibration of the phone against the wooden floorboards.

reading what he’s written makes you smile. proper punctuation and all, mimicking you. can’t tell if it’s meant to be snide or if he’s just matching what he thinks is your mood. you’ll take it either way.

> must be a bad motherfucker, that limon.

> must be.

> is she your favorite poet or something?

you feel a dissonant twinge of pride and shame. you once had a favorite poet, but that was a long time ago.

> i haven’t decided yet. are you getting better?

> i haven’t decided yet. i had three grape popsicles in bed for my breakfast, it’s kind of hard to argue with that.

> malingerer.

> i’m actually polish.

and so on.

when he finally says goodbye so he can go back to sleep, you’re still laughing a little to yourself, and you’ve been kneeling there beside the bed for so long that your knees ache.

in the days that follow, richie texts you at exactly the time he’d usually visit. you stand outside like he’s still there, have a couple cigarettes, and enjoy the nonsense even as your fingertips go numb in the cold. once, he sends a picture of a meme so italian that you don’t get it. you obviously weren’t meant to get it, either, so you respond by sending him the middle finger emoji, which he, nonsensically, hearts.

if he needs help, he’ll ask for it, you think. you hope. he seems to be on the mend. anyways, you no longer feel that fear except in dreams, and you stop wondering when he’s gonna text and start expecting it, and then, less than a week later, he shows up. you know this because he texts, where are you?

you open the window and stick your head out into an eddy of snow. sure, you’re glad to see him, but: it’s too fucking cold for this!

he waves.

man was feverish for literally days and here he is in mid december with a hoodie under his leather coat but no scarf, absolute idiot, and so you close the window, go down to meet him, and break the rule. standing there, holding the door open, you say, c’mon.

he’s surprisingly perceptive. he walks over, but he doesn’t cross the threshold, just pauses in front of you.

i don’t think we can smoke in there, he says.

we can’t, you say, moving back one more step, making even more room for him. or at least i can’t. i don't want to get evicted. my landlady will do it too.

yeah? he says, not moving. you're scared of her?

you shrug. you've moved back as far as you can, you're letting all the cold air in, and there's nothing you can do except say please.

you say, she's like four foot tall and a hundred years old, man. women that tiny that survive that long? you should be scared of them.

as if that was the final straw—though how could it be?—richie walks inside. without skipping a beat and for no reason you can figure out, richie walks inside.

learn my ways, sweetheart, he says, touching his chest and giving you his very best look of ridiculous condescension. old women love me.

as you close the door behind him, you fend off a stray, ridiculous burst of giddiness. it's just the lobby, pale linoleum floors and a single artificial plant by the elevators, but it feels radically different from the concrete outside. no cigarettes, no excuses. he’s only there for one reason.

old women do not love you, you say.

they do!

tina loves you. the rest of them, i don't know.

he snorts. you really don't want to be standing face to face with him for however long you’ve got him, so you lean on the wall instead, and he settles by your side the same way he always does.

when he looks over at you, there’s a hint of sly mischief in his eyes that makes you say, what?

wait for it, he says, and when you open your mouth, he holds up a finger.

you roll your eyes, but you hold your tongue with no idea what this is about, undisguised curiosity, and a readiness to be delighted.

you hear that? he finally says.

wind, maybe, or the distant rattle of a train? nothing special. you shake your head no.

that, richie says, is the sound of the sky not falling.

knowing he noticed, that’s the worst thing about being told that everything is gonna be okay. it’s also the best thing. you shove him with a bony, solid elbow. i should’ve let you freeze.

he catches himself before he can topple, his smile gone goofy and so pleased. fuckin drama queen.

full han solo style, block of ice.

it was carbonite, not ice. how do you not know star wars?

course i know star wars, you lie. how do you live in chicago and not own a hat?

i have hats. i just also have a car.

uh-huh. if he wants to trade accusations, you’ve got a doozy you’ve saved up till you could turn it on him in person. i noticed the other day that your place isn’t exactly in a location that makes my place ‘on the way home’ from the beef.

he’s caught, not sorry. grins. you noticed that, did you.

yeah, i might not be from around here, but i still know north from south, all that shit.

well okay, sherlock. you wanna charge me with a crime? the challenge in his eyes says it all; he knows you’re not unhappy to find he lied.

you still need to get a hat, you say.

well, now you know what to get me for christmas.

you’re getting jack shit.

you already know what you’re getting him for christmas.

kraft’s mac and cheese is a christmas tradition in a two-person slice of your family, and you’re one half of that slice, so mac and cheese is the first thing you think of when richie tells you he’ll be there for christmas eve.

after that, it’s on to donna’s on christmas day. then i’m gonna kidnap carmy for some ice fishing, he says.

you ever been ice fishing before? you say.

he splutters. do i not strike you as a, uh, an experienced-ass f—

no.

—fisherman and woodsman, and like—

nope.

—man of the… he gives up. whatever?

do you have a float suit?

richie exhales smoke and fixes you with a look, annoyed but curious.

i’m carmen fucking sandiego, you say, by way of explanation. of course you’ve been ice fishing, you’ve been all over the world.

sure you are, he says. he waves a dismissive hand. my buddy’s got all the stuff, we’ll be fine. it’s whatever, i just gotta get carmy out of the city so the only things he ends up killing are fish.

his first christmas since. you don’t have to finish the sentence.

yup, richie says.

it’s richie’s first christmas since, too, but there’s no call to say that.

lapsing into a companionable silence and shrinking a little closer to the building as the wind picks up, you decide that you’re definitely gonna make him kraft mac and cheese for christmas eve. he wouldn’t take it as a letdown, he'd laugh at the single spinach leaf on top. he’d get it.

on christmas eve, ten minutes before you’re expecting richie to show up, you get a text message.

> need u

it’s the wrong phone, though. it’s your work phone, and after everything those fuckers have done, they can’t possibly be calling you in on christmas eve. not now. your butter’s already cut, your colander’s in the sink, and you’re stirring the pot of boiling macaroni with a couple takeout chopsticks. they can’t—

the phone starts ringing. you pick up.

fuck off, you say.

no wait!

the voice is familiar; it’s kevin, a man so stupid that he once introduced himself to you out of anxious friendliness even though you’ve always made very clear that you don’t want to know anybody’s names. kevin must have you on speakerphone, because in the background, you can hear the telltale sounds of somebody else cursing in a continuous wretched stream. that piques your curiosity.

thirty seconds, you say. keep it clean. meaning, don’t give me names.

kevin says, we were doing a thing and some stuff happened.

that’s no use. he kept it a little too clean. you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose between two fingers. you were doing a thing on christmas eve?

we thought…look, can you just come? aren’t you on call? isn’t this your job?

you tell me, you say. it’s been radio silence on my phone for three weeks and i haven’t gotten paid for almost a month now.

oh.

yeah, you say, knowing damn well that it’s not kevin’s fault, but more than happy to take this out on somebody. they fucking ghosted me.

sorry to hear that, man, he says awkwardly.

a thought occurs to you. likelihood of the carusos being involved in some shitbrained christmas eve scheme pulled by kevin? nil.

was this even a sanctioned thing? you say. like, did—

you know what, it’s fine, kevin says hurriedly. it’s basically a flesh wound.

the guy in the background howls, i got shot in the fucking foot!

shut up, howie, kevin hisses. you hang up.

there’s no reason for you to get involved. no orders, no blackmail, and probably no money; plus, your timer is counting down the last minute of macaroni boiling and richie will be on his way soon.

you pocket your phone, walk back to the stove, and resume stirring.

no reason for you to get involved. your timer rings out, so you dump out the pasta, put it back in the pot with the butter, add some water and the cheesy powder, stir with an eye for sauce thickness, wait for it to settle you. it doesn’t.

the thing is, there are so many small tricky bones in the foot, and you haven’t had a real surgery challenge in ages. ever since your bosses ghosted you, you’ve just been staying in your apartment, in limbo, seeing nobody except richie and occasionally a cashier. sleeping and waking neither on your old strict schedule nor on a normal daylight one. doing nothing, worth basically nothing.

so yeah, you text kevin.

> send me the address

then, as quick as you can so you don’t have time to overthink it, you text richie.

> work emergency, i have to cancel. sorry.

the response is immediate.

> text me when you get home.

you realize that you’re still stirring, and you turn off the stove. although you give him a couple minutes, richie doesn’t add anything. no joke to put spikes on the soft gesture, no expression of disappointment to make you feel guilty for canceling this late. nothing. text me when you get home, that’s all.

if you were that generous, you’d text back don’t stay up, let him get some extra sleep in preparation for tomorrow’s christmas hell. but you don’t. you want to think of him waiting for his phone to chime, staying awake for you, thinking of you, even worrying. so you react with a thumbs up to his message.

the next time your phone goes ping, it’s kevin sending you the address, and you head for the door.

you’re sitting on a coffee table beside the old sofa that holds your resting patient. lying on the coffee table beside you are half a dozen grape skittles, the remainder of your christmas eve meal. there’s literally baggies of cocaine sitting on the kitchen table, the tv is playing charlie and the chocolate factory, and everyone involved in this—including yourself—is so stupid that you’re all definitely going to jail. but you’re having one of your good nights.

only drugs compare to the state of pure focus that surgery grants you, and even though it’s always in shit circumstances done for shit people, you can’t help but feel like a serious machine doing all this ad hoc emergency shit. this has to be how athletes feel, after a game. it’s physical: your vision feels clearer, your hands are steady, your body’s slouched comfortable and sated. it was decent work you did, given the lack of fucking everything. you’re pretty sure howie won’t even have that bad of a limp.

kevin finishes counting your pay and hands it over. you begin to count it again, too—twenty, forty, sixty—and then look up at him.

what? he says.

you haul yourself up and walk over to the kitchen table, ignoring the cocaine in favor of the scale, on which you place a twenty. it comes up as 0.94 grams when it should be a single 1.0. so you throw your earnings in the sink, get out your lighter, and set it on fire.

the fire alarm! kevin rushes over to turn the tap on and put it out.

you can hear howie calling from the couch, what’s burning?

kev just tried to cheat me.

i did not, kevin says miserably, it was a misunderstanding.

he pulls his own wallet out of his back pocket and starts to count the money, but you take it from his hands, sit at the kitchen table, and begin counting money yourself, weighing each bill as you go. once you’ve taken a hundred and fifty, you stand up and call over to howie, night.

yo, howie says. is my, like. what are the chances they gotta amputate?

that gets you a little, despite everything. howie spent the past few hours thinking he was gonna lose an entire foot, and he was stubbornly proud enough that he almost made it without admitting the fear to anyone. in a way, you gotta give it to him. admiration’s too grand a word, but it’s something like that.

chances are super low, you say. as long as you follow instructions, keep an eye out for infection, and don’t get hooked on pills, you’re gonna be fine.

for a second, there’s silence. then: thanks, babygirl.

for that, you take another forty dollars from kevin’s wallet and point them at him. asshole tax, you say.

as soon as you’re out of the house, you can hear kevin locking the door behind you. then he says, goodnight!

i shoulda robbed you, you say. then you start down the sidewalk. it’s bitter cold and you’re not a hundred percent sure you’re headed in the right direction, but just then you feel invincible.

fuckin jagoffs, say to yourself.

on the train home, the peace and quiet is interrupted by a herd of college girls, twentysomethings all decked out in tinsel necklaces, clearly on their way to a different party, and hitting all the wrong notes in deck the halls.

most days, you’d hate this, but in your current state of satisfaction with yourself and the world in general, their effortless enjoyment doesn’t seem to completely shut you out. they’re so young, and one of them is sitting in another’s lap while a third drapes herself over her shoulder. they smell like spiced rum, they make it hard to be a bitter old crone.

one of the carolers makes direct eye contact with you, and instead of having the decency to keep herself to herself, she extends her hand to you and sings even louder, fa-la-la-la-ing like she’s god’s gift. for a second, you let yourself mouth along, fa-la-la-ing, but then she says, come on, i know you can do better than that! and nope, nope. fuck it.

you try to look away, she yells another, come on! and you give her the death glare. surprisingly, she keeps beckoning to you—they’re stubborn, kids these days—but eventually you win the way you knew you would.

she looks away and whispers in the ear of the lap-sitter. that girl, the tiniest of them all, gives you a look that could sear meat. you could break her in half with one hand tied behind her back, she really has the build of a hummingbird, but that doesn’t seem to be stopping her.

you roll your eyes, lean back with exaggerated deliberation, and get out your phone.

> i’m home.

you want somebody of your own, you want richie’s reply. but none comes.

he’s not waiting for you outside your apartment building, either, so there goes that mad hope.

when you get inside your apartment, you kneel to untie your boots and spot a flicker of movement on the floor. it’s a black ant scurrying towards your countertop. with a rising sense of horror, you straighten up and see a swarm of ants, dozens and dozens, maybe a hundred busily moving little black dots, crawling to and from the pot of macaroni and cheese on your stove. your stomach turns, and if you’d had a real dinner, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from throwing it up. as it is, you just gag. it feels like a violation, an invasion, and you’re more outraged about these fucking ants in your apartment—your fucking apartment—than you ever were about getting not paid or cheated or maybe even blackmailed.

you go into the kitchenette and get the ant spray out from under the sink, then you stand back and spray everything in sight. the whole fucking counter, even though, yes, you cook your food on that, and the stove, and the floor for good measure. fuck them all.

you should’ve known better than to leave food uncovered in this apartment. you’ve lived here for three years and this always fucking happens. you’d think the novelty would’ve worn off, but nope. it’s still as disgusting as it was the first time you woke up to see last night’s plate covered in black.

today, the spray isn’t working fast enough for you, so you get out a trash bag, put the pot in it, and head out for the dumpster.

out there in the cold, waiting for the ant spray to do its work inside the trash bag, you remember that you left your lighter in kevin’s house. you tip your head back and look up at the sky. it’s so thickly smothered in clouds, there’s barely a glow of moon.

yeah, you say.

after a while, you untie the bag, shake the dead ants off your pot, and throw the bag away. you’d stomp on the ants for spite, but that would necessitate looking at them, and you’ve had more than enough of that. you just head back for home.

you almost make it to the front door, and then you smell it, the smoke.

well? richie says from around the corner. he must have heard your footsteps. you coming or what?

you walk the last few steps and there, just around the corner, there he is. he has the navy hood pulled up over his head, both his hands shoved deep in his pockets, a cigarette between both lips. he looks at your pot with interest.

after a second, you say, you’re late.

something tickles the inside of your wrist and you flinch. one last ant has crawled up the handle of the pot and onto your arm; you drop the pot in the snow and shake the ant off you. it lands by richie, and he stomps it dead matter-of-factly.

it takes everything you’ve got not to start swearing like howie with a shot foot.

merry christmas? richie says after a second.

merry fuckin christmas. you reach out and take the cigarette from his lips. long drag. you needed that.

settling beside him so both of you can look out into the night, you hand the cigarette back. and that’s how it is for a while, sharing. the wind thins out, the streetlight across the way reflects in the glass of another apartment building's door.

when your body’s finally calmed down, you look over at him. i got you something.

aw, you didn’t have to, he say, a little curious and not particularly surprised. he probably thinks it’s a joke.

you hold your right hand palm up, and he takes his right hand out of its warm jacket pocket to mirror the gesture. then you reach into your hoodie and unclasp his gift from your neck.

the chain is gold. thick, but not so thick that it comes across comical. incongruous with you and with him, the weight of it and the shine, how new it is. when you lay it in his hand, it looks like a golden snake, intricate and flawless.

after a second, he gives you his cigarette like he can’t both smoke and think about it. then he speaks.

this is fake, yeah, he says.

hundred percent fake.

actually, it’s regifted. it was originally one of your boss’s christmas bonus gifts, and given that you pawned all the other christmas bonus gifts to pay rent, you’re pretty sure that the chain is solid gold. it’s for the best that he doesn’t know it, though.

as you watch, he puts it on, fumbling a little with the clasp. looks at it for a second, tucks it back inside his coat. there goes the last

yeah? you say, after a second.

yeah. think i like this sugar baby shit. keep ‘em coming, he says.

you laugh, real, so relieved that he didn’t take it weird, so relieved that you got lucky tonight and he got it the way he sometimes can, acceptance without explanation.

he lets you laugh, and then he says, mine’s better, though.

diamonds?

it’s back at my place, he says. i can drive?

you want that so bad, and you didn't even think to want it just seconds before.

yeah, you say, dropping the cigarette and stomping it out right beside the dead ant, unbothered.

you want to take the pot up?

you shrug, crouch down, and cover it with some snow; you’re not gonna leave him down here waiting for you, and you’re not gonna take him up to the horrorshow of dead ants either.

it’s still pretty obvious, richie says.

it’s christmas eve, who’s gonna bother digging in dirty snow to steal a pot?

this is chicago.

this is idle argument as companionship and you know that, but you're impatient. are you taking me home or what? yes, you can hear the double entendre. no, you don't fucking care.

there’s a slight pause before richie says, car’s this way.

in the car, there’s crumbs but not much mess; a coupon for personal pizzas in the cupholder, and that’s it. he must have cleaned.

when he starts the engine, you say, wait, and make an elaborate show of putting on your seatbelt. then you say, okay, now i’m ready.

fuck you, he says, and he’s still smiling when he starts to drive.

the radio is playing carols dimly in the background, and you don’t hate it.

you doing anything for christmas day? richie says.

i’m working christmas, you lie.

seriously? tell your boss he’s fucking barbaric.

would if you could; you’ve already tried to say as much in your many texts, but it is what it is.

yeah, you say. bunch of fuckin jackoffs, right?

jagoffs, he says, over-enunciating, frustration immediate. he really is too easy and he knows it. you’re—

jackoffs, that’s what i said, that’s what you told me—

if you can’t do it right, don’t do it at all. he has to drive with his right hand so he can make chopping motions for emphasis with his left hand, because of course he does.

you say, jackoffs.

you’re killing me.

and yet you go on surviving. you relent. got everything you need for ice fishing?

richie scoffs in disgust. yeah, but now carmy is trying to bail on me.

if he’s not gonna say, typical, then neither are you.

he wants to work on the twenty-sixth, he says.

oof.

yeah. like a full planning session, go over the rest of the rollout schedule with the entire staff and like… he rubs his forehead. i don’t know. like we haven’t even gone to christmas yet and he’s already, fucking. i don’t know!

i mean.

he glances over at you briefly.

carmy wants to make the staff come in on the twenty-sixth just to go over the renovation schedule again?

he’s out of his fucking mind.

you already know what you want to say, but you have to double-check it in your own head to make sure you’re not overstepping. you don’t actually know these people.

but also, fuck it.

you know, you say, you could tell him if he acts like this, syd’s gonna quit again.

he whistles. julie with the big guns.

how i’m built, you say.

yeah, i noticed, he says affectionately. it’s okay. i’ll figure it out.

i know you will. it’s kindness, and you mean it, and you don’t take it back.

thanks, he says.

you lean your forehead against the cold glass of the car door and watch chicago going by, all gold and black and white.

after a few minutes, he parks the car in an underground garage.

you ready for this? this is gonna rock your world, he says.

diamonds and rubies? you say, unbuckling your seat belt.

you’re gonna be fuckin crying.

diamonds and rubies and pearls?

at the door to his apartment, he says, close your eyes, hold out your hands, and wait here, so you do. when the door opens, you can smell whatever it was he made for his christmas eve dinner with eva. it smells like everything christmas eve should be, rich and homey. you could wait here for, say, half an hour. you could stretch this moment out. you wouldn’t mind.

okay, richie says. here.

when the gift touches your palm, you instinctively pull back. richie swears and catches it.

it’s hot! you say as you open your eyes.

it’s soup, he says. you want it cold?

you look down. yeah, that’s definitely french onion soup, with a big white and brown patch of melted cheese and toast on top. it’s an echo of what you made him when he was sick. it’s him showing off his work in comparison to your two-ingredient version. it’s unfortunately perfect. there’s no way he knew that you haven’t had anything for dinner except skittles.

it smells like home.

here. you hand the bowl back to richie, but only so you can take off your coat and your shoes.

there’s only one hook on the back of his door, so you hang your coat overtop his. as you move through his apartment, you take stock: the walls are still orange, but things are a little tidier and there are new drawings magnet-pinned to the fridge. eva’s going through a cat era, clearly. the kitchen lamp is as warm as before, and the cactus by the window has a small red ribbon on it, probably a nod to christmas.

you sit down at the kitchen table on one of the foldable stools, and richie sets your spoon and bowl in front of you. there’s a half-empty bottle of coors on the countertop behind you, and you take a sip of that. he sits down on the chair to your left, so he’s in your peripheral. he’s next to you.

you can feel it coming.

um, you say.

he glances over, and you can feel that too. what’s up.

don’t be a dick, okay. you say it very low and very flat, not even angry, because angry wouldn’t cut it.

the pause is too long, but at least he finally says, okay.

you pick up your spoon and take the first sip.

the bit of melted cheese hits first, warm and gooey and salty then the sweet savory richness of the broth, and yeah, okay. it’s happening. your eyes are wet.

you can feel him not saying anything about it, but before it can build up to torture, his phone rings.

sorry, he says, getting up. it’s tiff.

he must know from the ringtone alone, but you’re not even mad at it, you’re relieved. saved by the bell, another bit of good luck. maybe christmas is real.

uh-huh, you can hear him saying. yeah. that’s— he laughs, and you know from that laugh alone it’s something about eva. yeah, put her on. a beat, then. hey, honey. no. no, she’s right. listen, santa won’t come if you spy on him. the guy likes his privacy, okay? he’s not in it for the applause, he’s not in it for the publicity. pause. well, that’s what the cookies are for. i am being serious, that’s what they’re for. okay. who—okay. he snorts. okay, you got me. don’t tell your mother, though, okay? she really enjoys it. pause. it’s up to you. okay, i gotta go. i love you. hey. i love you.

that’s more than enough time for you to wipe your eyes on your sleeve, get all fucked up again listening to him, and wipe your eyes a second time. by the time richie sits back down, you’re basically normal.

that sounded like some saga, you say.

this jewish kid at school told all the christians that santa wasn’t real, he explains. and now she’s going around busting all the lying adults one by one.

you laugh.

they’re starting young, he says. when i was in school, they always used to make us wait until at least sixth grade before we could go around busting myths.

you’re jewish?

he shrugs. kinda sorta.

you see the opportunity to make another joke about him being zero percent italian, and you ignore it. did eva like the doll? you say instead.

yeah. i mean, it was a huge hassle, it’s so expensive i had to go halves with tiff, and i nearly had a heart attack when eva said something about kirsten cause i thought i’d got the wrong one— he starts eating again, eating soup and talking, and you don't hate it. which by the way, swedes? have the most boring american history of them all, i don’t know why they’d make a doll about that, but anyways, yeah. she loved it. he reaches across you and takes his beer back so he can drink the last dregs of it. ever since the divorce, we don’t even call it christmas eve, we just call it christmas one and christmas two. as is tradition.

he says the last three words kind of weird.

as is tradition? you repeat.

tiff and i, we don’t have a bunch of traditions from our parents, so it’s like. we make up a lot of stuff and then we say ‘as is tradition.’ cause it’s not.

i mean, you got two generations involved, so that counts.

eh, he says, drawing it out dubiously.

i got two-generations traditions, you say.

you didn’t intend to talk about your family, you weren’t thinking about that at all, you were just thinking about richie. but now you gotta sit in the silence as he decides whether or not follow up about your parents.

finally, richie says, you got a kid? he’s doing his best to be cool about it, but his voice goes up a little crazy on the last word.

no, i mean—you’re laughing. i meant me and my dad.

oh, he says, maybe a bit relieved, definitely a bit something, you can’t quite place it. oh.

i used to make us mac and cheese for christmas. with a leaf on top, like lettuce or spinach or something. cause, you know, that makes it salad.

that’s cool, he says flatly. after a second, he adds, less flat, i don’t have any traditions with my dad. i mean, he’s dead, but like before then, we never. so i think that’s cool.

you hate his dad. it’s a split-second decision, but you feel pretty confident about it.

two generations is all you need, you say. and you got eva. so it’s a tradition.

heard, he says.

when you glance over, you see the chain catching the light, gold over his dark shirt. he looks at you. you both keep eating.

eventually, you finish off two bowls of soup and a hot chocolate too, courtesy of eva’s swiss miss unicorn package. you feel a bit subdued by the ordeal of being human, but relaxed.

best christmas ever, you say.

really? richie says, like he believes it and feels bad for you.

god no, do you think i came out a dickens?

what the fuck is a dickens?

you’re illiterate, it’s okay. you look at him. you know that your eyes are a little red, but thankfully you can also see, reflected in his eyes, that he knows you're all right.

thank you, richie, you say. it’s all wrong, you shouldn’t be saying his name and you shouldn’t be saying thank you either, it’s thanks or nothing, but something about the formality feels a little heavier and therefore suited to the day. it’s getting late.

i’ll drive you? he says, and there’s a little extra question in it that you can’t bring yourself to consider.

you shake your head and get up from the table heavily, feeling a thousand years old. i’m good.

he gets up, follows you, stands there with his hands in shoved his pockets as you crouch to put on your shoes.

i wasn’t suggesting a sleepover, he says.

no, of course not, you say, and you congratulate yourself on not making it sound bitter.

unless, richie says.

you look up at him.

i have so many condoms, he says, deadpan. just. so fucking many. some of them are citrus flavored.

there he goes, saved it.

it’s not just tonight, is it? it’s not just tonight, it’s not just luck, it’s not just christmas; somehow, richie’s become…he’s figured it out, how to be with you. when to show up and when to let you go. not always, but more than enough, and he just. he wakes up and he struggles and he breaks shit and he irritates you and he calls eva and he watches youtube and he goes to bed and he wakes up and he struggles and he learns and you love him.

what a fucking time to find out. you look down and begin tying your shoes again.

you got pineapple flavor? you say.

in what world is pineapple citrus? richie says.

well, tough luck. you back up and turn around to put on your coat. for me, it’s pineapple condoms or nothing.

you’re a real high-maintenance fuck.

you laugh. michael used to like that about you, just how easy you were, or how easy you made yourself. buddy, you got no idea.

it’s been such a long day for both of you, apart and together. of course you’re getting messy, of course it’s time to go. you zip up your coat, run your hand through your hair.

let me drive you, he says again.

you wave him off. no, i need to walk. clear my head.

it’s december in chicago, fuckin pitch black—

i’ll be fine.

it’s christmas eve, are you really gonna punish me for a fucking joke? he says, and you look up, startled; you didn’t know he was upset. in retrospect, you were just focusing on avoiding his eyes, so what did you expect?

i’m not punishing you for anything, you were great. richie. you look at him straight on and steady, so he understands. a little gentle, as gentle as you feel you can get away with. you truly have to go, and there’s no resentment in it. i just need to clear my head. i’ll be fine, i’m always fine.

you never… richie trails off, eyes you, decides against finishing the sentence. you’re stubborn.

always. you give him a small smile. thanks for the soup.

goodnight.

that should be the end, but it feels unfinished. his blue eyes are alive to the possibilities when you reach out, but you just touch the chain with a fingertip where it rests over his collarbone. his right hand moves a little and you draw back, your other hand on the doorknob at once, already leaving.

two days later, the cops issue a warrant for your arrest.

[ next chapter ] [ masterlist ]

@garbinge, @narcolini, @drabbles-mc, @beingalive1, @eternallyvenus, @cerial-junkie, @jackierose902109, @shinebright2000, @scorpiolystoned — if anyone else wants to be tagged, let me know.

#richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #the bear fanfic #mine #readerfic #do i know you?#the bear imagine #diky #guess who's still at it? ME!!! guess who's not giving up? ME!!!!!!

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voidify333 · 6 months

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I will preface by saying I’m not in the Mario fandom, I have not watched the movie, I have never even finished any of the games

But I did read (and unironically enjoy) a few bowuigi fics when that was the meme of the day, and I currently have Our Flag Means Death on the brain, and I’ve been watching a lot of SMM2 YouTube lately which has apparently given me Mario imagery on the brain because a semi-coherent concept came to me in a dream last night and I spun it around in my head refining it for the whole morning and now I’m dropping it here to hand off to the fandom

The concept of the dream: Bowser throws a big party with the vibe of “sorry for being a tyrant and all that stuff hahaha can we be friends”, and he means it but everyone kind of suspects it’s insincere, with a similar vibe to the opening scene of OFMD s2e5

But for something to really mirror that scene someone needs to be stede. So then I thought, what if Luigi is stede in this analogy

And actually, likening Bowser to Ed creates a potentially really interesting angle on the character for fic purposes. The fics I saw while browsing the tag seemed to tend to either have it be “oh yeah everyone has forgiven him or will forgive him with time”, or have him be a total monster as a conduit for the fic to be dead dove do not eat. But Ed provides a 3rd path, a character who has genuinely hurt people who are under no obligation to forgive him, and yet is a person and you want to see him find a joyful life

Also something something his fearsome reputation precedes him and has kind of locked him into a life of doing villain shit

Idk, is this anything???

#super mario #bowuigi #bowser #king koopa #ofmd #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ofmd season 2 spoilers

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leopardom · 29 days

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✨ sappy post incoming ✨

(and a little trigger warrning for the vague mention of suicide)

i’m not gonna do any gig reports for now because last week still feels like a fever dream and i can’t really put my thoughts in an order that makes sense. but i just wanted to stop by to say how much i love the vibes and creativity of this fandom and how happy everyone was when it came to meeting and trading/giving out their creations while queueing for the gigs or even when they were over

in Munich, Milan and Padova i got to meet so many people from here. with some of them i chatted more and with some others less. but in any case it absolutely warmed my heart to finally see all those people i see on tumblr but like, in real life! i got to trade my stickers for bracelets/stickers/art/fan stuff, got to see everyone have a good laugh because of my stuff and also got to complement people for their crafts. and i'm telling you i really meant every single word because as i already mentioned, i love the creativity of this fandom 💕

last weekend i began my trip with pretty much nothing on me and now i'm back home with a bag full of bracelets, a folder full of art and a heart so full i wanna cry. i mean look at that:

1) idek where to begin with the tags of the artists, i’m still confusion but i’ll try to come back to this post again later with a clearer mind

2) “big juicy” bracelet you will always be famous @greensolsikke <3

this last week was a tiring experience with many ups and downs but at the same time it was probably the best week of my life so far

i'm getting especially emotional about it all because this whole frenzy concided with my birthday (on the 29th of March). this may sound cringe or what, but on the actual day of my birthday and when everything was over, i was sitting alone on my hotel bed in Milan and was thinking how this last year of my life started in the worst way possible and how it was only escallating towards the worst every single day. during my 26 i reached a new level of low, a bottom lower than the one i had reached when i was 20-21 (and that was a bad bad time). and yes, there were a few times when i was close to ending it all because it was too much. my 26 was pretty much like hell

but now i'm glad i didn't give up and pushed through all the struggles. because if i hadn't, i wouldn't be able to experience last week. i wouldn't be able to see some of my dearest friends again, to meet all the amazing people from here and from twitter, to see one of my favourite bands perform for three nights in-a-row and to listen to all my fave songs of theirs live and even cry my eyes out to some of them (Barve Oceana in Munich, Padam in Milan and Metulji in Padova really were an Experience). can safely say that my 26 ended with a bang and it was a very good one 😌

i'm feeling sad that this is over but at the same time i'm so warm inside and so happy that it happened. and i would do it all over again, especially if it meant meeting you all again or meeting even more of you from in here. i have never felt so welcome by people who technically only knew me as a tumblr user and i never thought this would happen, considering how awkward i am when it comes to interacting with people online and in real life

anyway i think i've talked too much and i'm slowly loosing my train of thought because the thoughts and emotions are so many right now. i just wanna thank each and every single one of you for making the past week so special and one of the best weeks of my life. i'm beyond gratefull 💖

sincerely, the curly head with the meme stickers 🫶

#okay this is long but i had to do it #i needed to do it #i miss last week so much already :(#this is emma speaking #joker out

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gachawolfiebloom · 2 months

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Your Pursuit of Perfection

Story and Artwork By: @GachaWolfieBloom

Chapter 5: The Return of I̵̤̫͘ǹ̷͇̇s̸͈̦͗̆ȁ̵̟̉ñ̷͔̰ḯ̶̲͇̅ṫ̵̝͗y̴̺̠͆̀

Summary: A few months after the events of WOTFI 2023, SMG4 starts having really bad dreams about the "Its gotta be perfect" incident. One night however, his fear allows the nightmares to break through and he gets taken to a horrific dimension. He finally meets the tv adware, who manipulates him into returning to his insane ways, intent on claiming much more than the perfect video. Now it's up to his friends to stop this madness and save SMG4. Can they do it in time or will they lose SMG4 forever? (In case you are unaware this is a sequel to the its gotta be perfect movie)

Tags: angst, its gotta be perfect, love confession, luigi, mario, meggy, melony, nightmares, scary, smg3, smg4, smg34, smg3 x smg4, tari, tv adware

"HELP ME PLEASE! SOMEBODY!! ANYBODY!!!" Four kept calling out, but nobody came. After screaming for a few minutes, his voice became hoarse so he observed the surroundings instead. "Where am I...?" It was dark and clammy so he couldn't make out exactly where he was. All he could see around him was a floor made of goop and eyeballs. It seemed to be the same goop that had overtaken Peach's castle back at the "perfect" incident. As that ghastly image struck in his mind once again, he felt a sharp pain in his head.

"Why won't these bad memories go away?" He wanted to forget it. For everyone to forget it. Even if they had forgiven him, nobody would forget. He tried to stand up, but something pulled him back down. Two tentacles with claws were gripping tightly on his arms, keeping him pinned to the ground. "What!? What's going on? If this is a joke it isn't funny!" Suddenly he heard a faint whooshing sound. "W-w-who's t-t-there? S-s-show y-y-yourself!"

As soon as he said that, the whooshing got faster and louder. "Come on Four be brave." he thought to himself. In a struck of dumb confidence, he shouted out "Really? That's the best you got!" The figure was not intimidated as the whooshing started coming from multiple directions. Four's courage started to wear off as his fear slowly came back. "I'll admit that was kind of creepy..." he said in a shaky voice. The whooshing finally stopped, but only because the figure was now stepping out into the light. "Okay that's definitely a step up." Four finally was face to face with the guy who brought him here. The guy behind all his nightmares. The guy who gave him the keyboard...

The TV Adware stood in front of him with a smirking grin as he felt quite pleased with his entrance. "Good show TV guy." Four said as he tried backing up. The Adware crept closer, approaching Four. All he could think now was "What does he want with me?" Something far greater that Four didn't know about was what he wanted.

The crew were grabbing supplies and planning to making their way back to the forest. Eggdog ran up to Three and rubbed his leg as if he was begging him not to go. As much as he didn't like to see Eggdog upset, he couldn't subject his beloved pup to the horrors he and his friends were going to face. He crouched down to pet his adorable dog and said "Sorry buddy, but you have to stay here."

Beeg raced up to him as well, making a bunch of "Eugh" noises. He seemed very worried for his father. "You have to stay here too Beeg. I called Karen and she said she'll take care of you guys while were gone." He gave a kiss to both of them and went off to join the others.

They all got to a spot deep within the forest and when they stopped, Three said "This is where I last saw Four before he and that weird fog disappeared." One and Two examined the ground and faced the others. "I think there is still trace of him which we can use to find the opening." They joined hands and used their meme powers to lead them to a thin spot that could be opened. Once they found it, they used their energy again to this time, split the ground apart into a giant chasm.

"We're supposed to jump down there?" Meggy asked. "I don't really like that idea." Tari said as she hid behind Meggy. "WE NEED A TEST SUBJECT! ANY VOLUNTEERS!? asked Bob. He scanned the group, but when nobody volunteered he decided to take matters into his own hands. He grabbed Boopkins and threw him into the hole. "SO LONG GAY BOOPKINS!!!" He watched as the fish fell further and further down into the darkness. He kept waiting for the sound of him hitting the bottom.

Three just rolled his eyes and said "Lucky for all of you, I brought rope." Thankfully, the rope was just long enough to make it to the bottom. They figured that out when a crashing sound could be heard at the bottom of the chasm. "BRO ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" Bob heard a barely audible groan and turned back to the others. "YEAH HE'S FINE." As Three threw the rope down, Smg1 said "Remember the TV Adware will use all his powers to scare you. He can unravel your greatest fears."

Mario felt confident as he struck back "Mario isn't afraid of anything! As long as he gets Smg4 back everything will be okey dokey!" As they all climbed down the rope, Meggy waved back to Chris and Swag. "Good luck! Please protect the Showgrounds." Chris nodded and Swag said with a wavering hand "DON'T WORRY SQUID GIRL. IF ANYTHING CROSSES SWAG IT WILL BE BOOM BOOM MCDOOM TIME!"

Meggy didn't feel entirely confident with leaving them in charge, but there was no time to waste. She got onto the rope and carefully climbed down with the rest of her friends. Mario was bouncing along on the rope, swinging it back and forth. "Oi! Quit it fatso!" Meggy shared similar feelings to Three as she tried to stop Mario as well. "Stop it Mario! You might end up hurting someone!"

Mario tried to reassure her by saying "Relax Meggy. Mario knows what he is doing. He's not going to hurt anyone and it's not like-" Before he could finish that sentence, the rope snapped. They all came tumbling down until Meggy spotted a ledge. She grabbed it and held onto her friends for dear life as they had all grabbed onto each other. Her hand was slipping, slowly losing grasp. Just when it seemed like they were goners, Smg1 and Smg2 used their powers to save them.

Once everyone made it safely to the bottom, Meggy asked "Is everyone alright?" Three spitted out in a fit of rage "NO! MARIO ALMOST KILLED US!!!" He expected Four to say a follow up of something like "Well what did you expect?" but the man wasn't with them this time. It made Three feel remorse again. Just then Boopkins came up to them like nothing had happened. "There you guys are!"

Smg1 looked into the dark abyss of the Nightmare Realm and said "We must hurry. They'll know we're here." The others looked upon them as Meggy asked "Who is 'they' exactly?"

"The TV Adware needs servants to help him. The inhabitants of this world became his victims and were turned into disgusting creatures that guard and protect him." Tari gasped and said with an innocent heart "How could he do that to those poor sweet things?" One and Two sighed. "They aren't sweet anymore..."

~Meanwhile in another part of the realm~

The TV Adware finally broke the terrifying silence between them with an intriguing voice. "Listen here. I have made one thing perfectly clear." Four interrupted him with a sense of panic. "Clear? What that you have been terrorizing me and my friends! JUST LET ME GO!!!" His breathing got steady as he remember what the TV Adware did to him when they first met. "You corrupted me and destroyed my home!"

The mysterious TV man raised an eyebrow and smiled faintly. "Oh I know that. All you ever wanted was for things to be perfect... And I do need help from a powerful being such as yourself so how about we make a deal."

He inched closer to Four and put his hands together as a little gesture. "Without you, my entire existence is useless. Your energy could save me." Four looked confused and blinked. "My...energy?" He pointed to Four's hands and said "Your meme guardian powers of course! Did you really think that I didn't know about that." Four felt a chill go up his spine as he pulled his hands away and retorted "No! My friends need me!" Don't fall for his tricks Four. That's where you went wrong last time.

The TV Adware was cunning. He wasn't going to give up that easily. He always knew what to say to persuade his victims. He tapped his chin in thought and said "Do they? Or will they reject you if you come crawling back to them? Maybe replace you with someone they can trust?" H-how did he-

The TV Adware was reminiscing the awful nightmare Four had earlier. His face was horrified as he he remembered that image of his friends walking off, leaving him in the dark. His heart started to beat faster and tears started to form in his eyes. Speaking with a lump in his throat, he said "B-b-but... they w-w-wouldn't forget me. Would they?"

The tentacles slowly let go of him as the TV Adware watched his insufferable pain. "Stay with me and your talents would never be taken for granted. You would never be forgotten." The Adware stuck out his hand, waiting for Four to take his deal. "Never?" Four couldn't take the nightmares or memories any longer. "I just wanted it to be perfect..." He slowly took hold of the TV Adware's hand as darkness started to come up behind him. Four gasped as the darkness grabbed him before he could even react. It engulfed his body as he could feel his skin cracking and losing control of his mind.

The TV Adware watched this with an evil grin. "And you will help me more than you ever dreamed..." Four closed his eyes whispering "More than I ever dreamed..." That was the last thing he remembered. As his eyes shot open, they were now a glowing pink color and his pupils were shrunk.

Its gotta be perfect...

Chapter 6: It's All Your Fault

#angst #its gotta be perfect #love confession #luigi #mario #smg4 meggy #smg4 melony #nightmare #scary #smg3 #smg4 #smg34 #smg3 x smg4 #smg4 tari #tv adware

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famulusmox · 2 months

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So my homie likes the manga/anime Dungeon Meshi a lot so I've been getting to hear the wonderful characters and story it has (though I haven't watched it or read it myself yet) and last night I had a dream where during it Laios Touden was there and was showing me a scrapbook he made about his life, including telling me about his arranged marriage (which my friend had not told me about when telling me the lore so, I guess im just insane like that) it was very whimsical, so this is my artistic rendition of it for all to see because, yeah!!!

(I referenced a pose drawing from @kibbi from pinterest for this drawing! :) )

More fun dream details below

So for some reason he was in my baldurs gate 3 party with Laezel and Karlach but not much came out of that it was just a thing, and in his scrapbook there was a page of just pictures of him with the quote under one about fillet mignon for some reason?? So because of that I made this:

Because why not make memes based on the lore that has been created in my dreams ✨️

I probably will watch the show at some point but for now, who needs actual show stuff when you have the lore your brain creates in your mind!!

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #laios touden #laios dungeon meshi #digital art

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silviakundera · 5 months

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I'm gonna need kunning palace to give me a lot of the main otp in the last episodes, we have 8 left (this is why I don't f*ck with this 40 ep rule because now that we're getting the main relationship the show is over and everything that came before was also necessary). I'm gonna need to see how deep JXN's love for him becomes, I know people are obsessed with dedicated ML but I enjoy otps where it's more equal and I love seeing a female lead protect and support her otp the way he does her, even if it takes a while like in ming lan she had completely reasonable issues and took a while to warm up to him but when she did she was 1000% in and showed just how much she loved him, I personally don't appreciate unbalanced relationships where it's just one party sacrificing and being a lot more dedicated no matter the genders.

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS WARNING MAJOR SPOILERS

Hard to say, depends on how close they stay to the book. They've been quite faithful to the novel so far but at the point we are now is where I feel fairly confident that we're gonna diverge. Because in the novel the otp gets VERY dark before they get better. There's a reason why Xie Wei has been holding himself back & restraining his emotions. He's a whole mess of anxiety & PTSD and he has to work through his traumas. Both these characters have been a burningdog.gif meme and saying everything is just fiiiiiiiine but in the novel when they finally get alone on center stage together things get REAL because it's masks off. And underneath they are a whole mess.

imo the key to this pairing, and why we don't get a love confession from her until the very end, is what she thinks when she finally publically claims him (fittingly, she doesn't claim the lauded scholar but the unhinged figure that the public now finds monstrous):

Shen Zhiyi asked: "Ning Ning, do you know what kind of person he is?”

Jiang Xuening said, "I know."

This person forced her to kill in his previous life; even in this life, he still thought about taking her to die with him. He is definitely not a good person. How could she not know?

It can even be said that she knows better than anyone else. Because she has seen his truest and craziest side.

Shen Zhiyi asked again: "Do you like him?"

Jiang Xuening thought for a while and said, "I like him."

At this moment, Xie Wei's palm trembled slightly, but there seemed to be thousands of lights and shadows passing by in his mind, and finally there was nothing left, just staring at her blankly.

Yan Lin stood too far away, no one could see his blurred expression clearly.

Shen Zhiyi also didn't speak for a long time.

She didn't fully agree, she was afraid that her Ning Ning would be sad because of the wrong choice, but she couldn't stop her, and all her worries finally turned into one sentence: "Then you really know what you are doing now?"

Jiang Xuening smiled at her: "I understand."

And not only know what to do now, but also what to do in the future.

So calmly: "I want to marry him."

"..."

That night, he asked her once, but she didn't answer, so he never dared to ask again.

But now she says she wants to marry him. Xie Wei suddenly couldn't tell whether this was real or a dream: didn't she want to leave him and go find Zhang Zhe?

Jiang Xuening also saw that he didn't comprehend. "You are really, extremely smart, but you just don't like people."

Talking about love, this person is stupid to death.

I am too afraid of losing what I have, and I seem to think that what I have will eventually be lost, so I am paranoid, extreme, and I refuse to show weakness to others and say all those words.

Jiang Xuening felt that this person was too similar to her previous self.

There are some things that I don't understand, so I bash my head against it.

She blinked, with tears in her eyes, but took his hand, tiptoed to kiss his cool thin lips."

Part of the reason she feels so deeply for him is their deep down similarity, but the novel is Jiang Xuening's journey to love & accept herself, letting go of the pain & shame from the past. She doesn't reach this point until the end, where she recognizes and accepts her own darkness and thus his, and also believes it doesn't need to define their future. Everyone now thinks she is the saint and he's the sinner but she knows they are both.

The novel epilogue shows they are finding a peaceful life together, the urge to fight and claw at life and each other has finally passed. But though in the last 30% of the novel we get tons of couple-time, all the gestures of devotion are coming from him. She's not ready. I frankly have no idea how much the drama will change the last 30%, and it won't land the same cause I'm sure they have to tone down how scary the ML gets...but regardless I do think we won't get a confession until the last act.

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

#story of kunning palace #cdrama #spoilers #meta #guuuuurl extreme doesnt even cover it 😂😭#why are u guys like this #tbh anon i dont think this will be to your taste #but we are almost there so just hang with us 😘

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taggedmemes · 3 months

Text

SENTENCE MEME DUA LIPA / DUA LIPA

in the beginning, god created heaven and earth.

your body is the one paradise that i wanna fly to every day and every night.

i've been sick and tired of running.

these late nights don't mean nothing.

i just wanna apologize.

i need your love.

i need your touch.

this is getting serious.

tell me that it's not the end of us.

how can we go back to the beginning?

without you, i've got no air to breathe.

we can start all over again.

my deep intuition tells me that i'm doing you wrong.

just say you forgive me and don't let me go.

my will keeps bending and breaking.

i wanna die in your love all night.

one taste and i'm hooked on it.

i'm addicted to your light.

he calls me the devil.

i make him want to sin.

it's the darker side of me that makes you feel so numb.

we're hot like hell.

am i the answer to your prayers?

not finished with you yet.

you're not fooling anyone.

come back to me, we can work this out.

i won't let you down and run.

there is nothing i wouldn't do for you.

you got inside my head.

you have got me wrong.

i don't need your love.

i already cried enough.

you say you're sorry, but it's too late now.

i don't give a fuck.

play the victim and switch your position.

i see you begging on your knees.

you're all in the past.

you talk that sweet talk, but i ain't coming back.

you can't tame me.

if you don't like the way i talk, then why am i on your mind?

if we don't fuck this whole thing up, i can blow your mind.

used to think that this love was heaven sent.

are we leaving the garden of eden?

tonight i'm so self-conscious.

nothing's ever perfect in paradise.

don't know what it's worth until you pay the price.

when you bite your tongue does it draw blood?

i would die for you. would you do that for me?

i hurt you and you hurt me.

we did some things that we can never take back.

some things are not meant to last.

let's love like there's no goodbye.

let our bodies say what we can never seem to communicate.

i can't stop thinking about you.

he makes me feel like nobody else.

you know he's only calling because he's drunk and alone.

don't be his friend, you know you're gonna wake up in his bed again.

if you're under him, you ain't getting over him.

i keep pushing forward, but he keeps pulling me backward.

you're the only remedy.

all my bones are begging me to beg for you.

you give me a reason, something to believe in.

it's a bittersweet feeling.

i wish i was there with you.

all my dreams have come true.

last night, my fantasies came true.

it just got complicated.

it's time you started listening.

karma's got a kiss for you.

why are you blaming me for all your insecurities?

you're like a king with a crown looking down.

you should've never done something like that to someone.

i hope that one day you will change.

we're more than machines.

do you feel complete?

you've been telling me some lies.

even though i run away, i still come back.

i know you're bad for me.

me and you together are like a loved up bruise.

i'll make you an offer that you can't refuse.

you won't go breaking my heart.

i guess we're misunderstood.

the heaven's forgave me.

let's be bad, make the devil smile.

i know that you miss me when i'm gone.

i need someone to hold on to.

you're the only thing i know.

close to you, i feel like i'm at home.

we were built to last.

take my hand.

dive in this romance.

we could burn and crash.

it's way too soon to feel so strong.

was it worth it?

#sentence meme #rp meme #sentence starters #roleplay meme #starter sentences #memes #rp starters #rpc #starter meme #rp sentences #sentence prompts #sentence prompt #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #writing prompt

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