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oneforthemunny · 1 month

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Could we please have some angst with mafia Eddie? Maybe it looks like he is paying too much attention to another lady! You mention this to him and he gets angry at your accusations. He doesn’t realise what his actions are doing to you! Not until the other lady makes a move and he realises you were right all along!

"Mr. Munson," Your ears perked at the sound, a purr coming from behind the two of you.

You turned, brows lifting in surprise at the cocktail waitress behind you. It wasn't the too tight dress that upset you. No, it was the look in her eyes. Narrowed with a sultry determination, lips spread in a nearly wolfish smile.

"Back so soon?" She hummed, placing a black napkin down on the table.

Eddie hummed in response, blowing his cigar smoke the other way. She dipped low, bending forward to place his napkin in front of him. Your lips pursed, cheeks heating, glaring at Eddie, who still seemed unbothered, reading over the menu without a single glance up at the desperate waitress.

"Yeah, I think we're ready to order." Eddie muttered, closing the menu to look across the booth at you. He was startled by your hard stare, brows knitting in confusion. "Are you not ready, baby?"

"Yes." You hissed, manicured nails digging into the leather of the menu.

Eddie blinked, scanning your face with uncertainty. "Ok, I want a Manhattan."

"So the usual?" She giggled playfully, lashes batting towards him. "With 1792?"

"Full proof." Eddie nodded, looking at you.

The waitress scribbled it down, turning back to you, face falling, eyes not meeting yours in boredom. "And for you?" Her tone fell flat.

You blinked, pausing to cut your eyes to Eddie. He didn't react, brows pulling in a furrowed look of confusion that had your teeth gritting. "I'll have an Aviation."

"Any preference on gin?" She hummed, eyes sliding over your frame with a bored expression.

"Broker's is fine." You snap the menu closed, tossing it towards Eddie's in the middle of the table.

"You wanted Pâté, right, baby?" Eddie hummed gently towards you. Maybe you were hungry? You got huffy when you hadn't eaten.

The waitress looked over at you with a lifted brow, lips pressed in annoyance. Your own eyes narrowed, in what you hoped looked like a threat and not insecurity.

"We'll just get that. And the shrimp cocktail. Just whatever looks good." Eddie waved her off, knee bouncing gently under the table, eyes still locked on you.

The waitress turned back to Eddie, a smile reappearing to her face. "I'll get that right in for you, Mr. Munson." She purred, turning away with a swinging step.

"Thanks, Tammy." Eddie muttered, leaning forward on the table.

You watched the waitress sashay away, an exaggerated swing in her hips that had you rolling your eyes, ready to tear the girl's hair out.

"What's the matter with you?" Eddie muttered lowly.

You turned towards him, lips pursed in displeasure. "Tammy?" You huff.

Eddie blinked. "The waitress?"

You scoffed, nose turning up in the air, refusing to look at him. Eddie hated when you did that, ignoring him entirely- oh, it drove him insane. Which was exactly why you did it.

"Hey, don't- what's wrong? Why're you mad?" Eddie pressed, reaching for your arm across the table. Thankful this was a private room, he felt a little safer to show affection.

You didn't reply, fighting the urge to roll your eyes, yanking your arm away from his instead, crossing them over your chest.

Eddie huffed, flinging his cigar into the tray. He did a scan of the room, sliding out of the booth to slide next to you, back to the door- something he never did. He was nearly neurotic about sitting where he could see who was coming in.

"What's goin' on? Look at me, c'mon." Eddie pulled you towards him, hand snaking around your waist.

His hand snaking under your jaw, pulling you towards him. "Baby," Eddie cooed lowly, a tone of voice he only used in the complete privacy of your relationship, when no one else was around. "What's wrong?"

Your lips twisted, glaring at him. Before you could answer, the swoosh of the door was opening, Eddie's hand on his glock, protectively pushing you behind him, ready for any unwanted action.

Instead, it was Tammy, back with your drinks.

"Oh," She quipped, a smile that felt more like a sneer across her face. "You switched sides on me."

Eddie didn't laugh, didn't even acknowledge her other than a head nod of thanks when she set the drink down. He felt you tense when she leaned forward, breasts nearly touching Eddie's shoulder to place your drink in front of you. Your nails dug into his slacks.

"Let me know whenever you're ready for another, Mr. Munson. Those appetizers should be out soon." Tammy grinned down at Eddie.

Eddie turned to you carefully, waiting until he heard the door click softly behind her. "What's wrong?"

"Are you serious?" You scoffed. Eddie blinked at you, brows creasing in confusion. "Are you going to just fuck her in front of me next?"

"What?" Eddie spat. "Who?"

"Tammy?" You sneered her name.

"The waitress?" Eddie scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Are you serious? C'mon."

"Don't you dare lie to me, Eddie. She's all over you." You snap, eyes narrowing at him furiously.

"No, she's not." Eddie blinked at you. "Baby, what are you talking about?"

"You know her name," You counted off on your fingers. "She's all over you, practically had her tits in your face, flirting with you right in front of me-"

"-She is not flirting." Eddie rolled his eyes. "She's just being nice. She knows I leave a good tip."

"Oh, I'm sure she does." You sneer, anger bubbling furiously inside of you.

"Stop acting like this, alright? It's not funny." Eddie shook his head, sliding out the booth to the other side. "She always waits on me here. She's good, and I tip her good, that's all. Don't piss me off sayin' that shit."

You glare at him, eyes narrowed when he sips his drink slowly. You want to smack it out of his hands, maybe throw yours at him- glass and all. Instead, you turn back towards the wall, ignoring him entirely.

The dinner is tense. Eddie's exasperated huffs begging you to look at him, they slowly turn into growling demands. You don't touch your drink, letting the ice melt the vibrant lavender down to a watery lilac. Any hunger is replaced with rage, a fire burning in the pit of your stomach.

Eddie calls for the check after thirty minutes, nerves shot, a dull headache brewing behind his eyes.

"Done already? You usually stay longer than that." Tammy quips in feigned surprise masking her disappointment.

You decide you've had enough, snatching your purse, sliding out of the booth when she leaves to get the check. "I'll meet you outside." You growl.

"Hey," Eddie booms, commanding, stern. It would normally have you stopping in your tracks, falling right into submission. "Get back here."

You ignore him, hand slapping the door to push it open, stomping away with fury. Eddie's teeth grit, fishing out the contents of his jacket pocket- wallet, lighter, cigarette.

Lighting the cigarette, he took a slow drag, letting the burn of the nicotine settle into his throat and lungs. Thumbing through his wallet, he pulled out four big bills, slapping them on the table, sliding out with a huff.

The door swung open as he was adjusting his jacket. "Oh," Tammy giggled sillily, eyes sliding to your empty space. "Here's this for you."

Eddie nodded towards the table. "On there for you. Keep the change." He muttered around the cigarette hanging from his lips, side stepping to get around her.

She blocked him, a countering step to stop him. "I'm sorry, I just, I think you need to look at the bill, Mr. Munson." She gave a wide smile.

Eddie huffed, reaching back for his wallet, blowing smoke the other direction. "How much is it?"

Tammy hesitated, opening the wallet. Eddie's eyes flickered over, turning fully to read the bill. There on the bottom, a phone number scribbled next to 'You're always a pleasure. I'd love to see you more away from here. Call me, Tammy', a tiny heart next to her name.

Eddie blinked, heart dropping in his chest. Tammy shrugged sweetly. "I just want to make sure I can always service you to the best of my abilities, Mr. Munson." She purred, eyes batting seductively.

Eddie blinked again, not moving, ash from his cigarette falling on his shoe. His stomach turned, how harshly he'd talked to you, brushed you off when clearly you were right. How had he missed this? Looked over this?

Love will blind ya, boy. Wayne's voice from years ago rang through his ears. He'd always thought his uncle was dramatic. He was much stronger than that. Maybe that was true, until he met you.

"I get off at two, if you'd like to-" Eddie didn't let her finish her sentence, stomping away and towards the door.

His hands shook in fury, bursting into Anthony's office in the back.

You waited outside, arms wrapped around yourself in the chill of the night. It helped to calm your fury, until Eddie swung the door back open with matching anger. A man scurrying behind him, nervously.

"Eddie- Mr. Munson, I-I am sorry. I will-she's done. She's fired." He stammered.

Your interest piqued, Eddie flicking the cigarette on the ground, jaw set furiously, a hand wrapping around your waist guiding you off the curb towards the Bugatti. He opened the door for you, letting you slip inside before shutting it.

You could hear the muffled shouting from outside, turning to look at Eddie, who jammed a rage filled finger towards the man who flinched.

"We will make it up to you, Mr. Munson, I-I swear it-"

"-You fucking better." Eddie sneered, hand on his door. "You better figure somethin' out, Tony. You hear me?"

Eddie slung the door open, falling with a grunt into his seat. Barely starting the car before he was peeling furiously off the curb.

His apology didn't come until later that night, when you both had calmed. In the dark, serenity of your bedroom, Eddie whispering sweetly to you, cooing apologies that you pouted at, giving in slowly with every soft kiss and even softer words.

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gartenofbanny · 9 months

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Striker was one of my favorite antagonists in Helluva Boss. He's a (mostly) thought-out character with an understandable motivation, has a great personality, is a threat to IMP and Stolas, conflicts with Blitzo moreso than Moxxie, and his design is cool. Well when Western Energy was released, you can tell that Striker's character has been changed, and not for the better. While I still consider him my favorite antagonist (because he's the one with the most depth), I can't ignore the character change he had in Western Energy, and believe me they did change a lot about him. So this is going to be a simple comparison of both versions of Striker, some of the topics I'm going to be talking about are listed in this meme I made. Anyway, let's get started.

Show vs Tell

Helluva Boss has always had a show vs tell problem, but it was very apparent in Western Energy. For this example I'm going to bring up the Ballad of Striker.

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The song is insanely catchy, but my problem is that they just describe traits or stuff about Striker that we already know about or we're going to know about later on. We know he's fast and strong and tall and mean because he already expressed those traits in Harvest Moon, we're told that he's the best assassin in the Ring of Wrath despite him failing to kill Stolas twice, they say that he's this famous assassin even the cacti know his name but Blitzo, Moxxie, nor Millie never heard of him before Harvest Moon and there was no foreshadowing that he even existed.

The only things we know that's new when it comes to Striker is that he likes to eat Pâté for lunch and he likes to ride on the choo-choo train. So yeah those are the only two new things we know about him, the rest of those traits don't make sense or were things we already knew and we have Harvest Moon Festival to thank for that.

Striker is fast because and strong and tall because he's Blitzo's physical equal and he overpowered Millie swiftly. He's mean because we've seen him insult and hate on Moxxie just because he's weak. None of that was told to us, it was shown.

So not only did the writers implement tell instead of show this song that's telling us all this stuff just regurgitating information that we already know or stuff that doesn't make any sense. It's just a catchy song with no meaning.

Striker also mentions that Demonic Royalty took away everything he had, but it's very vague and not even brought up again in the episode. Stolas doesn't even know what he's talking about and doesn't even care lmao. This could've been a good opportunity to flesh him out a little especially considering that he's the second major antagonist to make a second appearance as an antagonist.

Voice Acting

Now this is going to be a bit controversial, while I do like Edward Bosco's voice, Norman Reedus' voice acting is just on another level. Simply put it, Norman Reedus is a more experienced Actor than Ed Bosco because Norman has been in the game for well over 10 years at least. Edward Bosco from what I've seen only does voice acting for cartoons meanwhile Norman Reedus does both acting and voice acting and has been doing so since the 1990s.

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Norman is just better, but that doesn't mean Edward Bosco is bad. I will say that Vivziepop should've had Edward Bosco voice Striker from the beginning because in all honesty, whenever I see or hear Striker I immediately think Norman Reedus until I remember Edward Bosco also voiced him. Having a big actor voice an antagonist leads to the audience identifying that antagonist as the actor.

And when that big voice actor gets replaced by a lesser experienced one it'll be difficult to fill those shoes, I'm not blaming Ed for this, moreso Vivziepop because I don't know why she decided to hire Norman fucking Reedus for this role and could've known that Norman Reedus most likely wouldn't be back for it.

Personality Change

So Striker has had a personality change in Western Energy, while remnants of his personality in Harvest Moon remained (like his hatred of Overlords & Demonic Royalty) there's more stuff that was added and removed that made his character a bit worse.

One of the things that they added to Striker was the fact that he has a statue of himself with a stick poking out between his legs. Obviously not going to share the image here because of reasons. While he was pretty narcissistic, it wasn't to the extent that he would literally make a fucking statue of himself with a hard-on. It's literally something Chaz would do and you all know my opinion about that guy. Not to mention it's yet another male character that's obsessed with dick so yeah.

Striker all of a sudden is also more sensitive to insults compared to his Harvest Moon version. He gets triggered whenever Stolas insulted him which is weird because before when he did get insulted he just didn't care and bit back with his own insults. Now he's just an angry goofball.

Striker gets disgusted to sexual remarks to the extent that he'll literally stop what he's doing. Whether it be stop torturing Stolas or stop choking out Moxxie because sexual jokes and cries are oh so disgusting to him. Remember when Blitzo essentially flirted with him in Harvest Moon and Striker didn't have a reaction to it? Yeah, me too.

This sensitivity to an extent also makes him less intimidating because now if you just insult Striker or say something dirty around him, he'll all of a sudden stop what he's doing to look at you disgustedly or gag. "Greatest Assassin in the Ring of Wrath", but he can't take insults or dirty jokes, fuck off with that.

Reckless Actions

Time to list Striker's reckless actions in a single episode alone

1. He attacked Stolas in public in a café where possible High Ranked Demons dine at

2. He has a wanted poster yet is in public

3. Is well known and possibly famous despite being called "The Greatest Assassin in the Ring of Wrath"

4. For some reason he lets imps be aware of his hideout which is what literally caused Moxxie and Millie to find him

While Striker in Harvest Moon was a bit reckless (Like why did he leave his door open to for Blitzo to find him assassinating Stolas and why was he immediately hostile towards Moxxie when Moxxie found his gun), but he wasn't reckless to this extent. I can also explain why Striker decided to snipe Stolas. It's because there were a bunch of Imps around and once Striker instantly kills Stolas it actually leaves a lot of suspects instead of one. And due to the fact that Imps are the bottom of the social hierarchy, it would lead to many members of Demonic Royalty just hating on Imps which can become a problem for Moxxie, Millie, and Blitzo because they are all affiliated with Stolas.

So if Striker just straight up killed Stolas in Harvest Moon, he probably won't face the consequences. That would be an interesting conflict, but it's definitely not gonna happen.

Conclusion

Anyway, Striker as an antagonist has really changed for the worst in Western Energy and it's such a shame because he was my favorite antagonist. He still is, but it's just not the Striker I liked. Oh well at least the DHORKS Agents are still around, hopefully Viv and her writing team don't fuck them up.

Thank you all for reading and I hope you all have a nice day! ❤️

#helluva boss #vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop criticism #helluva critical #vivziepop #helluva boss critique #vivienne medrano #helluva criticism #helluva critique #Youtube

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queerpuff · 2 years

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listen, call me a crazy bitch but...

i'm kinda loving all of the angst we're getting from laudna's death. i have strong hope that they'll be able to bring her back so my brain is so certain all of this pain is temporary.

i'd always wondered how imogen would have reacted if laudna died, and boy has laura bailey delivered on that front.

she can't even bear to say the words out loud - she struggles to even say laudna's name and trails off before having to mention she's dead. she's quiet, angry, and morose, and has nothing on her mind other than bringing laudna back.

the fact she was also willing to strike up a deal with delilah to get her back was astounding (the parallels between her and delilah at this point are v interesting) and was getting irritated when the group were trailing away from getting laudna back.

not to mention her keeping pâté, sleeping beside laudna's corpse, and longing for her friend 24/7. it's brilliant yet painful.

just imagine how heart-wrenchingly good next episode will be - imagine imogen's contribution to her resurrection and what she'll say to bring laudna back. imagine the reunion between the two and all the emotions there.

as painful as this all is, i'm loving it and i can't wait to see where it goes next episode. is it fucking thursday yet.

#imodna #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #critical role

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captainofthetidesbreath · 1 year

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We're finally here at the solstice, and boy is there a lot to look forward to today. Here's a call list for this very rare event: 41 items, all listed below the cut, and here's a link to BingoBaker, where you can get your own card.

Notes for today are actually quite sparse:

"Cookie" is for any treats that FCG makes using their Chef feat. It does not literally need to be a cookie.

PvP and friendly fire are actually differentiated this week, and the main difference is in intent. If FCG or Chet attack the party, that goes under "friendly fire" because they are (probably!) not actively and intentionally working against the overall party's goals. PvP is for fully turning on the party.

"Explosive used" is not magical spell explosions AND does not count for exploding an arcane battery at the site. This covered any conventional explosives acquired prior. If they do decide to detonate FCG's arcane accumulator, feel free to count that.

I will not be available for the very beginning of the episode and I should be back in about half an hour into the episode, nor will I be available between posting this and the episode. So, I will not be available for questions until the episode is airing. Feel free to send me questions or requests for clarification in the meantime, however, with the understanding my responses will be delayed.

split the party

Pâté scouting

skyship crew dropped off

PC falls off ship

skyship crashed on purpose

skyship crashed by accident

friendly fire (actually friendly)

PvP (not friendly)

Imogen sides with Liliana

Liliana defects

Ryn rescued

Ira casts spell

Horn of Silent Alarm

Belt of Momentum

Potion of Possibility

Changebringer coin flip

locket appeal to Liliana

explosive used

Hishari mentioned to Keyleth

Hishari mentioned to Orym

Blindness/Deafness

Darkness

Hold Person

Invisibility

Sending

Pass Without Trace

teleportation spell

Wild Shape (Fearne)

no initiative

multiple initiatives

Janina appearance

Morrigan appearance

Liliana in person

Arcana check

History check

Insight check on NPC

Insight check on PC

Investigation check

Stealth check (individual)

Stealth check (group)

#Critical Role #CritRole bingo

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exandrianpunk · 1 year

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c3 e53 first half

my thoughts and favorite moments :)

"I gouge out my eyes" Aabria is all of us

"ya'll are so dangerous"

"half fucked up half fuckable"

FRIDA is held together by tongue straps = canon

"i hope that they're around to worry about us" *sob*

"can i have advantage? DM to DM? homie to homie?"

"the death ward stings like a sunburn today" that is such a beautiful way to portray Deanna's mixed feelings and tension in the moment

i had so many thoughts last week while Chet and FRIDA were fighting about the fact that Deanna had given the death ward to Chetney and how awful it would've been if it had come down to that... the amount of guilt Deanna would've felt...

FRIDA seems so unconcerned for their own wellbeing, worried more about how their coat got damaged during the fight than about getting bitten...

is it an Aeormaton thing of wanting to have all these new experiences and opportunities for new recordings?

is Deanna used to having to put the death ward on FRIDA because they are so willing to throw themself at danger?

i desperately want Deanna to knit clothes for Pâté

it's the house her family lived in oh hon

"too much stuff in my brain, sometimes it just leaks out" i feel that

"it's bad to make checks when you're sad" correct

it's been a while since we've heard the whispers of Uk'otoa (Uk'otoa)

guys i'm begging you please just ask one of the guards wtf is going on

"mass magical disenchantment" hmm good sign

"a deep diminishing of divination" *gulp*

"Scribewarden Ressia Uvesic" weren't they in campaign 2?

"you're worried about money during an Applebees solstice?" a very American take

"every new detail is bad" vibes

laura stop talking about Keyleth in the past tense right this instant that's not okay

VAX'ILORB

"magically bound prisoners who escaped" that has so many wildly awful implications my dudes

ominous ground-shaking rumbling is never a good sign

"have you ever heard of fear-reading before?" why yes Mr. Mercer i have engaged in fear-reading multiple times myself

Laura nearly killing Aabria with an M&M was beautiful

Travis "i might not be able to help myself" Willingham

why are all the Aeormatons so habitually self-sacrificing?

bad things are happening downstairs...

knocking coming from inside the basement is never a good sign

the way Taleisin predicted FCG's death-wish impulsivity getting the group into trouble on 4sd...

"this is bravery... we're going to overcome it and prove our worth" now is not the time for martyrdom FCG

weeping angel vibes...

was the statue something that was petrified?? or some sort of golem they thought was disenchanted?? like something they were keeping as a trophy, but now with all the dispelled magic it's 'back'

"Great Beasts of Veluthil" sounds like the name of a very friendly ally for sure

#campaign 3 episode 53 #c3 e53 #cr3 e53 #critical role campaign 3 #cr c3 #cr3 #campaign 3 #bell's hells #bells hells #izzy monologues

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kate-square · 2 years

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So we can all agree that whatever Pâté is saying or doing are Laudna's secret thoughts and desires, right?

That means that when 'Pâté' is horny and needs a girlfriend, it's really Laudna, right?

Just making sure we're all aware of this...

#critical role #imogen x laudna #imogen temult #imodna #southerngothic #bell's hells #critical role campaign 3 #laudna

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batwingsandblackcats · 1 year

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once and formerly haunted

chapter 1: copper kettle confessions

Read on Ao3

1/? | Chapter word count: 2,694 | Current total word count: 2,694

co-written by @sageobo31

Summary:

Imogen, new to Zadash and all of its chaos, finds herself drawn to the unusually sweet and inexplicably musical thoughts that fill her mind whenever she walks through the Pentamarket to and from her job at Keifer's Stables.

Laudna, who owns a tiny bookshop wedged into a corner of the Pentamarket, has been alone for quite some time. Well, except for Pâté, of course.

All it takes is one too many sleepless nights plagued by red storms and too many voices for Imogen to come crashing through the door to Laudna's shop in search of that music.

Literally.

Notes:

batwingsandblackcats:

Hey all! Everyone's been so lovely in the comments of the first part of this series—thank you so much! We're so glad you've enjoyed it so far. LyraLoudmouth1220 and I have been writing together for about six years now, but this is the first time we're truly co-writing a fic together! Usually, we plan the whole story out together and I take care of writing it out, but this time around we'll be alternating chapters! I wrote the prologue, so LyraLoudmouth1220 is kicking off this multichapter installment.

LyraLoudmouth1220:

Hi! I’m the author of this chapter and I just wanted to give a quick preface for some context. I am diagnosed autistic and ADHD. A lot of Laudna’s personality and physical traits in canon really resonated with me. I definitely leaned into those themes while I was writing her and I created this particular portrayal of her intentionally to embody a more visibly autistic experience. As always, please keep in mind that my version of Laudna embodies MY autistic experience and is not meant to be seen as the ONLY autistic experience. I just love this little neurodivergent baby so much and want her to be happy with her horse girl.

Thank you all so much for reading, and we hope you enjoy!

#critical role #critical role fanfic #imodna #imogen temult #laudna #fluff #bookshop au #TIBSAU #The Imodna Bookshop AU

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rhytons · 9 months

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A Man of Means: an early Pâté de Rolo (& Laudna) playlist

(4/? Critical Role playlists)

You Can Call Me Al - Paul Simon / Stuck in the Middle With You - Stealers Wheel / Lead Balloon - Pictish Trail / Tubthumping - Chumbawamba / Mambo No. 5 (a Little Bit of...) - Lou Bega / In the Summertime - Mungo Jerry / The Wanderer - Dion / King of the Road - Roger Miller

This is not a Serious playlist (but lyrics under the cut):

You Can Call Me Al - Paul Simon

If you'll be my bodyguard I can be your long lost pal I can call you Betty And Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al

Stuck in the Middle With You - Stealers Wheel

Clowns to the left of me Jokers to the right Here I am Stuck in the middle with you

Lead Balloon - Pictish Trail

Diamond-rough, gonna cut you up badly I take for granted all the things you ask of me Evidently, I can't accommodate all your demands How that plagues you, then escapes you all over again -- I can see you coming out of your sadness I can see you coming out of your madness Don't wanna make you mad now

Tubthumping - Chumbawamba

I get knocked down, but I get up again You're never gonna keep me down

Mambo No. 5 (a Little Bit of...) - Lou Bega

And as I continue, you know they gettin' sweeter So what can I do? I really beg you, my Lord To me, flirtin' is just like a sport

In the Summertime - Mungo Jerry

We're not grey people, we're not dirty, we're not mean We love everybody, but we do as we please When the weather's fine, we go fishing or go swimming in the sea We're always happy, life's for living Yeah, that's our philosophy

The Wanderer - Dion

Oh well, I'm the type of guy who will never settle down Where pretty girls are, well you know that I'm around They call me the wanderer, yeah, the wanderer I roam around, around, around

King of the Road - Roger Miller

Trailers for sale or rent, rooms to let - 50 cents No phone, no pool, no pets. I ain't got no cigarettes Ah, but, two hours of pushin' broom Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room I'm a man of means by no means King of the road

#Pâté de Rolo #Laudna #my rotten soldier..my sweet cheese..my good time boy #this fandom has so many talented people who share fic & art & thoughtful analyses #whereas i whistle to get your attention from the alley nearby #rummage through my trench coat and slap this baby into your hands #you're horrified at all the one-hit wonders but when you look up to demand an explanation I'm already gone #critical role #pl.cr #critical role playlist

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satanfemme · 2 years

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im Intrigued about how your day has gone now

assuming this is wrt my last text post (hdfbghfdghfg):

my blood smell is unfortunately not very interesting, my compulsive skin picking has just been acting up lately and a stress flair today made it WAY worse so just... I've got lots of open wounds, scabs, dried blood, and etc on my person at the moment. and the scent can build up lol. no shame in that though -- even if it's not ideal, it's just the physical reality of my body sometimes! so hopefully this only adds to the neurodivergent gothic charm I'm bringing into my workplace.

as for why I was covered in baby food tho!!!!! ohohohohohoh this one's actually a really good story, I'm glad u asked >:3c !! so I currently work with shelter dogs, most of whom have behavioral and/or medical concerns, which they're being treated for. (if ur squeamish about veterinary care or dog surgery, that's ur sign to stop reading btw).

we've currently got this brown papillon named Phineas who is ONLY three (3) years old!!!!! his fur is long and a bit unkempt, but silky too. and he's got massive buggy eyes that look a bit off to the sides, and he's very very small and cute. but unfortunately, when he first arrived last week, his lower jaw wasn't functional. I don't have any idea how it got to be that way, but basically it hung down loosely from his top jaw at a 90 degree angle, and he had no control over it; he couldn't move his lower jaw in any way nor close it nor eat with it. and naturally, his pink tongue danged out a good few inches as well, since he didn't have anything to hold it in place.

because of this, he can only eat wet dog food that's been mixed with water and mashed up into a soup. or....... he can eat baby food. >:3c I think you can already see where we're going here?

about two days ago or so, he had his lower jaw amputated. obviously, this means he's been extra moody, probably in some discomfort, emotional frustration and/or distress. but it also means he's got a massive cone compared to how tiny his body is, a completely new mouth shape (less of a hole now, believe it or not. the skin where his bottom jaw would've been has now been partially brought together), and ofc he's constantly on a LOT of painkillers which make him a lil drowsy and loopy at all times lol.

as u could probably guess, he wasn't a very neat eater to begin with; he'd basically lick up his mush paste with his long tongue -- aiming for his open mouth hole -- but in the process splash some of it onto his face and the floor as well. just a few streaks of meat water and/or baby food in his hair, nbd.

but, for all the aforementioned reasons, surgery recovery has made eating much harder for him. he doesn't even want to eat half the time, then when he does, he struggles to get it both around his cone while also into his mouth. he'd been giving up after only a few licks -- if any at all.

then TODAY!! I cracked the fucking code! I figured out how to get him to eat!!!! I've discovered the ideal bowl shape/size, the right mixture of slop to put in there, the whole deal. it's exciting! this is, like, my job at the most impactful! and -- now to finally answer ur question of why I was covered in baby food today -- as part of this process I:

hand-mixed baby food with pâté and water. I don't use spoons to mix cause I don't like washing them lol.

I hand-scooped this slop out and into a different (better) bowl once I realized the first one didn't work

I sat down on the floor with Phineas and his food

and I encouraged him to eat it. so, once he did, I was even in the splash zone.

that little boy's got a baby food biohazard range of a good few feet! watch out lol!!! 🥺 I love him.

& to make matters even messier: shortly after this whole ordeal, I had to hand feed a similar mush to Dahlia the beagle cause she's sick with a cough rn and will literally refuse to so much as look at her food unless someone (ie: me) is hand feeding pâté to her one finger-scoop at a time. having a sick beagle lick pâté off ur fingers is a formative experience btw, genuinely, I do recommend it. I love her too -- and she loves me 🥺

#fxckinemo #ask to tag

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saltybiowarefantears · 5 months

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Eating a really nice cheese spread and pâté while watching Dragon Ball Z because we're all about those contrasts ✌️

#i've been dashboard and message mia and i'll get back soon #i have important things like cheese and power levels #seriously though everyone has been through the ringer in the house

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carbo-ships · 8 months

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Post Hoc - Chapter XI

Start: Chapter I Previous: Chapter X

Ardis made her way into the gardens at the appointed time. She followed the path to the back gate in search of Terzo. Her face felt warm as soon as she saw him -- a charcoal button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, light-grey trousers, black leather shoes, and a silver wristwatch. He wasn't wearing his gloves, and his shirt was unbuttoned down to his chest. "Right on time," Terzo praised her.

"I, uh, you changed," was all she could manage to say as she approached him.

"We're going on a walk," he explained. "My usual attire felt a bit too formal for the occasion, and I didn't want to dirty my white shoes." He offered her his hand. "Shall we?"

She took his hand and they stepped through the gate, exiting the grounds of the monastery. They started down a mossy cobblestone path deep into the woods. The leaves overhead were just beginning to change. "Where are we going?" she asked him.

"You'll see," he responded, just as cryptic as he'd been that morning. "I don't want to ruin the surprise. It's a short journey, though. You'll find out soon enough." They continued in pleasant silence, enjoying the gentle birdsong and the rustling of the leaves. The path soon turned to gravel, then dirt. She guessed they were probably half a mile from the ministry walls. It was a nice thought, putting some distance between her and her problems. She looked up at him as they walked, admiring the way the dappled sunlight played across his painted face. When their eyes met again, he smiled at her. "What?" Terzo asked with a slight chuckle, giving her hand a little squeeze.

She smiled and looked away, a bit embarrassed that she'd been caught staring. "Oh, it's nothing. Just lost in thought, I guess."

Ardis could see the edge of the forest approaching. When they reached it, she gasped. On the grassy hill overlooking a small lake was a picnic basket on top of a large blanket. Terzo smiled at her expression. “Come along,” he said, dragging her forward out of her stunned state. He sat down on the blanket and she awkwardly settled in beside him. “I hope you’re hungry.” He opened the basket and pulled out a verifiable feast – cheeses, slices of cold cured meats, pâté, bread, focaccia, and a frittata. Ardis was stunned into silence. "I didn't know what you liked, so I brought along a bit of everything," he explained with a sheepish chuckle.

Ardis was nearly speechless as her eyes darted around the spread. "I thought you didn't eat.”

"It's all for you, Ardis,” Terzo said, reaching back into the basket and producing a lidded pitcher. “It pained me not to bring wine, but it’s my understanding that you forgo it outside of communion. I hope you’ll find grape juice to be a suitable alternative.” He pulled a wine glass out of the basket and poured her a drink before holding it out to her.

She was still staring. "Vincenzo, this is... I... I don't know what to say..."

"You had a stressful evening. You deserve some time to relax. Come. It would be a shame to let this go to waste, eh?" He nodded toward the glass again, and she finally accepted it.

"Thank you," she said with a small smile. Terzo talked her through each bit of food he'd chosen to bring, recommending certain meats to pair with certain cheeses, serving her slices of focaccia and frittata, and refilling her glass whenever it emptied. It made her blush to have his undivided attention like this. She found herself grinning ear to ear. "You must hear this all the time," she said, a bit embarrassed, "but you're awfully charming."

He chuckled. "Yes, I've been told that once or twice. Thank you. It's no less flattering to hear it again, especially from an angel."

"Is this still about trying to punish Aether?" she guessed, giggling slightly.

He shrugged with a smirk. "Perhaps I am just trying to demonstrate how a woman ought to be treated."

That only made her blush more. "Well, it's–" she cleared her throat "–I can certainly see the appeal."

When she'd had her fill, he put what remained back in the basket and set it aside so that they could lie down on the blanket. They soon found themselves laughing, chatting, and watching the clouds roll by. Terzo was excellent company and a top-notch conversationalist. He was witty, well-spoken, and had no shortage of entertaining stories from both his touring and his old life in the ministry. He omitted the more scandalous tales for the sake of her comfort. He would gain nothing from her knowing about his countless sexual exploits.

"Are there rules about when you have to wear your facepaint?" Ardis eventually asked, turning her head to look at him. "Like the ghouls with their masks?"

"No, not necessarily," Terzo said. "Papas should wear the full paint for official church events, but beyond that it's up to us. I think of it as an honor to wear mine, so I do it as often as is sensible. What about your halo and wings?” He looked over at her as well. “I've noticed you can, er, how do I put this... turn them off?"

"Oh! Yeah, um..." She demonstrated, making the light of her halo reappear and disappear. "It's similar, I suppose. I like having them on, but sometimes it doesn't make sense to. Like when it's dark, or I'm trying to pass as a human."

"How does that work?" he asked as he propped himself up on his elbows, genuinely curious. "You can just... make them vanish?"

"They're just light, that's all. See?" She waved her hand through her halo and it passed through as if it were nothing more than air.

He reached out and copied her. There was only a vague sense of warmth as his hand phased through her halo. "Fascinating."

"I don't think I ever asked what brought you here in the first place,” Ardis mused.

"Unfinished ministry business. Nothing particularly exciting," he lied as he settled back into the blanket. "And nothing pressing. I have more than enough time to picnic, if that's your concern."

"Why would you go out of your way to do all this for me anyway?” she asked. “We barely know each other."

Terso smiled. "There's a gorgeous little angel trapped somewhere she has no business being, and she's been having a rather difficult time. And I thought, well, if there's anything I could do to make her stay any easier..." His hand found hers, his thumb gently caressing it.

Her face flushed and she dropped his gaze. She didn't seem to know how to respond. Then, after seemingly summoning her courage, she quickly leaned forward and pressed a tiny kiss to his cheek.

He chuckled, his hand reaching to gently touch the spot she'd kissed. "What was that for?"

She took a deep breath. "There's a handsome ghost who's been so sweet to me even though he hardly knows me, and I– I thought if there were any way I could show him just how grateful I am..." Tears started to well in her eyes and her lip began to squiver.

"Oh, cara," he cooed, opening his arm to her. "Come here. Give me a little cuddle. Let me hold you." She slid closer to him and rested her head on his chest while he wrapped his arms around her. "There's no need for tears." He was starting to feel it. The guilt. Terzo could see now why Copia had crumbled so easily under its weight. He was strong enough to ignore it, he assured himself. Terzo rolled fully onto his side and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, feeling the gentle warmth of her halo against his cheeks. Then she let out a woeful little sniffle that made his heart sink. His resolve nearly faltered. Thankfully, staying on course and giving in both required him to comfort her. Today, he would allow himself to be genuine. He let her weep into his chest for as long as she needed to, hushing her whenever she tried to apologize. "I'm here, Ardis, I'm here. Oh, dear… I'd meant to lift your spirits, not make you cry. I'm sorry, angel."

She only nuzzled further into him, seeking his comfort.

"May I kiss your face again?" Terzo asked with a sigh. "Like I did last night?"

Ardis nodded weakly. "Please," came her whimper.

He gently took her chin in his hand and pressed a long kiss to one cheek, then tilted her head so he could kiss the other. When he pulled away, he saw the tiny attempt at a smile on her lips. This was a risk he had to take. He sighed again and began to pepper her face in kisses over and over and over. She giggled, the sudden surge of affection taking her by surprise. He held her tighter when she tried to squirm away, smooching her forehead, her cheeks, her temple, her nose, until she was laughing outright, all her troubles momentarily forgotten. When he finally relented and sat up, he let out a little laugh. "I've made a mess of you, cara, hold on."

"Huh?" she asked, catching her breath and sitting up as well.

"You have a bit of my paint on your face." He pulled a cloth napkin out of the picnic basket, dabbed it on his tongue, and rubbed away the bits of black and white smeared on her forehead and reddened cheeks. He took her chin in his hand again, tilting her head this way and that to ensure he'd gotten everything. "There, all tidy. Are you feeling a bit better?"

Ardis nodded, a shy smile on her face.

"Good, good." Terzo was determined to keep her in a good mood. They needed a distraction. He glanced at the lake down the hill. "Do you know how to skip rocks?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "I've tried once or twice, but I never quite figured it out."

Perfect. "Would you like to learn?"

Next: Chapter XII

#carbo writes #post hoc

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richarlisonny · 1 year

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gormlaith!!! how are you? have you done anything fun lately? any good festive food/drinks consumed? any nice plans for the weekend? work treating you okay? tell all pls i love hearing what you have to say 💖💖💖 xx

HELLO ANON!!!!!! 💖💖💖💖

i've got all my christmas shopping done over the last two or so days which was cutting it very fine but we made it!!!! which is the most important part. i got myself some nice vegan cheeses and pâté so i'm excited to be included in that regard this year gjdkbfkfjfif. i always spend most of christmas in pyjamas eating food and watching movies with my family and we're not deviating from something that's worked so well this year so that will be the gormlaith christmas experience once again. i found a recipe for vegan blondies so i might try make those tonight AND i still have to wrap all of my presents 🥲🥲 please pray for me.

speaking of work....... well i have a pile of corrections to finish still but we will not be speaking of them so close to christmas so!!!!! i will be thinking about christmas dinner tomorrow and perhaps also the paella i will make tonight.

i hope you have a good christmas anon!!!!! 💖🎄💖🎄💖🎄

#ask #anon

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lunaticmeap · 1 year

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25/10/2022

My grandpa's birthday is today. A milestone. We are all glad for it, but he didn't want to celebrate it much, and while he happily ate with the rest of the family - his three daughters, my mum being one of them, his three sons in laws and six grandchildren - I can't help but remember that he was 90. Ten years from 100. No one in the family had gone past 100 before, including my grandpa's own siblings, who died young or died just as their hair whitened and teeth completely fell out.

Thinking about his age makes me... uncomfortable, as one would be, thinking about old age and what comes after. He's still joyful of course, but a far cry from the person i knew in his 70s or 80s. And so very different from the person in his 30s and 40s when his children - my mother and aunts - were born. We're his legacy, but somehow, i feel as if i never knew him all that much aside from his love for his computer, his constant search for things to read and chinese medicine to research. He likes salted lemon candies, and things that are sour, like lemonades, particularly. He said he drinks it because it's good for you, the vitamin C. We all know he just likes sour candies and drinks. However, he disliked sour fruits, like sour mangoes or grapefruits

He snooped around and kept all sorts of junk in his room, even when there was no need for it. Sometimes I wonder if it was an influence of his upbringing, running away from home at the age of 13 to join the a resistance army which later became the ruling party of Vietnam. He grew up in a military academy and lived his life fighting wars, biking across countrysides to find my grandmother or his daughters wherever they were scattered. To hide from the raids. Bombing raids. My neighbour told me recently that the bombing had been called Operation Rolling Thunder, a bombing operation lasting 3 whole years of the Vietnam War, which devastated the North. It sounded like Blitzkrieg, which I had read about because i was more proficient in WW2 knowledge than post-Feudal Vietnam history. A fact I half regret and half can't make myself fix, because I weep too much when reading about my country's own wars. We have a lot of memorials, many I wished didn't have a cause to exist.

My grandpa fought two wars, according to our history: the First Indochina war (because he was born into French colonialism), and the Second Indochina war i.e. the Vietnam war (or as we call it, the American war). He had a bullet in his leg which they never removed since it was too risky at the time that he had gotten it. He was part of the artillery unit (i believe that's the correct translation), and my uncle (the oldest son in law) would tease my grandpa relentlessly for his "aim" which conceived 3 daughters and no sons. Not that my grandpa ever cared. He wasn't like that, not to his own children and grandchildren.

And he loves telling stories of his old days, for it was all he had known, it was his identity and life achievements - honourable ones at that. I grew up on them, the more enjoyable tales of his time during the war, such as the recounts of a certain era in the battlefield in Dien Bien Phu, where the French's troops had dropped supplies on my grandpa's side of no man's land, and they would steal the crates and feast on its prizes. My grandpa could still recount the details of the crates, and he always reminded us: sardines, a little bottle of rum, cigarettes, biscuits, coffee, pâté, sugar, dried blood (for medical purposes), cleaning tablets (for water). The crates they broke apart and used the planks to reinforce the trenches after.

It sounded difficult, and I saw it as difficult. But my grandpa looked upon that certain battlefield with more light than others, particularly because they had not starved too badly there, compared to elsewhere. He is remarkable like that.

Today, when he turned 90 and told us he hadn't wanted to make a big celebration, i couldnt help but be reminded that he had 90 remarkable years of tales not all of us had fully heard. And it saddens me somehow, to think that one day, these stories he used to tell me will only be found in memories of my family, and per chance, in my grandpa's little journal he had kept through his years on the field. Even then, i might never be able to read them, for my grandpa wrote the smallest, unreadable words (paper saving, he said). And even as I hear his stories, I find myself unable to fully listen or comprehend the things he had gone through, for there was such a gap between the country he had fought in and the country I grew up in. That, and perhaps, also, a fear of hearing about war and destruction and loss. The few times he had told me about such things, i couldn't bear to listen. It felt... to close, and too distant, simultaneously. And it made my eyes water, too. Atrocities of war coming from the mouths of its survivors and veterans made it more real.

It's amazing how old he is. But he is frailer now than before. He can't walk much anymore, for his hip joined is messed up. He has some issues with something in his stomach that I don't quite understand, and his eyesight is blurry, though he could still read with his glasses and magnifying glass. I kept thinking about it: 10 years til 100. I hope he'll make it to 100. I hope he exceeds it, because at the moment, I could only wish that somehow, in someway, one day, I might be able to know the rest of his life, the hardship and happiness and all. And i will be able to write it down for him, or myself, or for others of our family, so that at least, when I miss him too much, I might find him again in words written in his own voice. And I can remember him for everything he was.

#personal #stream of consciousness

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