#foraging nonsense

[dailybotany]

I'm so tired of the notes my foraging post only being about mushroom consumption. Yes. Mushrooms can be hazardous. Yes, they are more hazardous than plants (partly because their characters are more subtle and more easily confused!!). However, SO ARE PLANTS. I'm so tired of the fear mongering surrounding mushrooms in the foraging community while plants are treated as essentially harmless. You need to know what you are looking at! You need to be able to describe it! Or you WILL eventually hurt yourself or others! If you cannot reliably key out a species, you cannot reliably double check yourself.

[bumblingest-bee]

watching one of those "behind the scenes at a fancy restaurant" type youtube videos and it feels like some kind of psychological horror with uncomfortably homoerotic undertones. it features the most pretentious yet dead-eyed dude i have ever seen, spoon-feeding some kind of wild fermented miso vinegar to his boss, in a deeply unnerving high-concept tasting menu restaurant. this shit is legitimately unsettling in a way horror fiction wishes it could achieve. i am convinced they are cooking human beings along with those smoked sunchokes.

[victorluvsalice]

-->While that was going on, I decided that while Alice was outside indulging her werewolf instincts, she could spread a little feed for the chickens -- while most of them were asleep, there was one hen up and hungry, and Cockadoodle the rooster was getting ready to wake everyone else up, so yeah -- might as well be prepared! She then wandered off to make a clay bunny on the back porch (fortunately avoiding the specter) before I directed her back upstairs to work on her book. THIS time, she was actually able to sit down and concentrate for a while, hooray. May all us writers be so blessed. :p

-->Smiler, for their part, got sent to check in on a yowling Kelly when she appeared on the back porch! Seems mama cat was feeling a little neglected with all the attention being showered on her kittens, so I had Smiler give her lots of calming pets to make sure she knew she was still loved too. :) Smiler then joined Victor in the greenhouse to unleash Bugs and Elmer on the plants, before hitting the cauldron grill to do a bit more herbalism! After all, they'd just gotten a bunch more locusts from Victor earlier this morning to use in their concoctions. :p They made a Soothing Skin Balm, which got them all the way up to Herbalism level 7, meaning they can make Natural Herbicide Oil! :D ...Theoretically, as it once again requires ingredients I don't have. >( I need to get them back to Granite Falls at some point to gather more plants and insects... Anyway, with that sorted, they then moved onto making a lovely yellow-and-orange flower arrangement, which got them to Flower Arranging level 6! Seriously, they were just BANGING out the skills today, let me tell you...

-->Around this time, Moory wandered out of their shed looking a little worse for wear, so I had Alice take a break from her writing to go give the cow a nice brush off. She then headed into the bathroom to give herself a pep talk (she was still feeling Gloomy from earlier), before being put on chicken coop cleaning duty. Smiler, for their part, tried offering the specter the Fizzy Fruity Drink from earlier -- unfortunately, this did not go well either, so I had them just harvest all their herbalism stuff and plasma fruit before going to clean out the cow shed (because, for some reason, the game wouldn't let me clean it magically anymore >( ). Victor, of course, was kept busy tending and harvesting the rest of the garden, because that's what he does around the house these days. XD What can I say, he is the Plant Guy!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Even if you think AI search could be good, it won’t be good

TONIGHT (May 15), I'm in NORTH HOLLYWOOD for a screening of STEPHANIE KELTON'S FINDING THE MONEY; FRIDAY (May 17), I'm at the INTERNET ARCHIVE in SAN FRANCISCO to keynote the 10th anniversary of the AUTHORS ALLIANCE.

The big news in search this week is that Google is continuing its transition to "AI search" – instead of typing in search terms and getting links to websites, you'll ask Google a question and an AI will compose an answer based on things it finds on the web:

https://blog.google/products/search/generative-ai-google-search-may-2024/

Google bills this as "let Google do the googling for you." Rather than searching the web yourself, you'll delegate this task to Google. Hidden in this pitch is a tacit admission that Google is no longer a convenient or reliable way to retrieve information, drowning as it is in AI-generated spam, poorly labeled ads, and SEO garbage:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/03/keyword-swarming/#site-reputation-abuse

Googling used to be easy: type in a query, get back a screen of highly relevant results. Today, clicking the top links will take you to sites that paid for placement at the top of the screen (rather than the sites that best match your query). Clicking further down will get you scams, AI slop, or bulk-produced SEO nonsense.

AI-powered search promises to fix this, not by making Google search results better, but by having a bot sort through the search results and discard the nonsense that Google will continue to serve up, and summarize the high quality results.

Now, there are plenty of obvious objections to this plan. For starters, why wouldn't Google just make its search results better? Rather than building a LLM for the sole purpose of sorting through the garbage Google is either paid or tricked into serving up, why not just stop serving up garbage? We know that's possible, because other search engines serve really good results by paying for access to Google's back-end and then filtering the results:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

Another obvious objection: why would anyone write the web if the only purpose for doing so is to feed a bot that will summarize what you've written without sending anyone to your webpage? Whether you're a commercial publisher hoping to make money from advertising or subscriptions, or – like me – an open access publisher hoping to change people's minds, why would you invite Google to summarize your work without ever showing it to internet users? Nevermind how unfair that is, think about how implausible it is: if this is the way Google will work in the future, why wouldn't every publisher just block Google's crawler?

A third obvious objection: AI is bad. Not morally bad (though maybe morally bad, too!), but technically bad. It "hallucinates" nonsense answers, including dangerous nonsense. It's a supremely confident liar that can get you killed:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2023/sep/01/mushroom-pickers-urged-to-avoid-foraging-books-on-amazon-that-appear-to-be-written-by-ai

The promises of AI are grossly oversold, including the promises Google makes, like its claim that its AI had discovered millions of useful new materials. In reality, the number of useful new materials Deepmind had discovered was zero:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/23/maximal-plausibility/#reverse-centaurs

This is true of all of AI's most impressive demos. Often, "AI" turns out to be low-waged human workers in a distant call-center pretending to be robots:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/31/neural-interface-beta-tester/#tailfins

Sometimes, the AI robot dancing on stage turns out to literally be just a person in a robot suit pretending to be a robot:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

The AI video demos that represent "an existential threat to Hollywood filmmaking" turn out to be so cumbersome as to be practically useless (and vastly inferior to existing production techniques):

https://www.wheresyoured.at/expectations-versus-reality/

But let's take Google at its word. Let's stipulate that:

a) It can't fix search, only add a slop-filtering AI layer on top of it; and

b) The rest of the world will continue to let Google index its pages even if they derive no benefit from doing so; and

c) Google will shortly fix its AI, and all the lies about AI capabilities will be revealed to be premature truths that are finally realized.

AI search is still a bad idea. Because beyond all the obvious reasons that AI search is a terrible idea, there's a subtle – and incurable – defect in this plan: AI search – even excellent AI search – makes it far too easy for Google to cheat us, and Google can't stop cheating us.

Remember: enshittification isn't the result of worse people running tech companies today than in the years when tech services were good and useful. Rather, enshittification is rooted in the collapse of constraints that used to prevent those same people from making their services worse in service to increasing their profit margins:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/26/glitchbread/#electronic-shelf-tags

These companies always had the capacity to siphon value away from business customers (like publishers) and end-users (like searchers). That comes with the territory: digital businesses can alter their "business logic" from instant to instant, and for each user, allowing them to change payouts, prices and ranking. I call this "twiddling": turning the knobs on the system's back-end to make sure the house always wins:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

What changed wasn't the character of the leaders of these businesses, nor their capacity to cheat us. What changed was the consequences for cheating. When the tech companies merged to monopoly, they ceased to fear losing your business to a competitor.

Google's 90% search market share was attained by bribing everyone who operates a service or platform where you might encounter a search box to connect that box to Google. Spending tens of billions of dollars every year to make sure no one ever encounters a non-Google search is a cheaper way to retain your business than making sure Google is the very best search engine:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Competition was once a threat to Google; for years, its mantra was "competition is a click away." Today, competition is all but nonexistent.

Then the surveillance business consolidated into a small number of firms. Two companies dominate the commercial surveillance industry: Google and Meta, and they collude to rig the market:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

That consolidation inevitably leads to regulatory capture: shorn of competitive pressure, the companies that dominate the sector can converge on a single message to policymakers and use their monopoly profits to turn that message into policy:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

This is why Google doesn't have to worry about privacy laws. They've successfully prevented the passage of a US federal consumer privacy law. The last time the US passed a federal consumer privacy law was in 1988. It's a law that bans video store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you rented:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Video_Privacy_Protection_Act

In Europe, Google's vast profits lets it fly an Irish flag of convenience, thus taking advantage of Ireland's tolerance for tax evasion and violations of European privacy law:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

Google doesn't fear competition, it doesn't fear regulation, and it also doesn't fear rival technologies. Google and its fellow Big Tech cartel members have expanded IP law to allow it to prevent third parties from reverse-engineer, hacking, or scraping its services. Google doesn't have to worry about ad-blocking, tracker blocking, or scrapers that filter out Google's lucrative, low-quality results:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Google doesn't fear competition, it doesn't fear regulation, it doesn't fear rival technology and it doesn't fear its workers. Google's workforce once enjoyed enormous sway over the company's direction, thanks to their scarcity and market power. But Google has outgrown its dependence on its workers, and lays them off in vast numbers, even as it increases its profits and pisses away tens of billions on stock buybacks:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/25/moral-injury/#enshittification

Google is fearless. It doesn't fear losing your business, or being punished by regulators, or being mired in guerrilla warfare with rival engineers. It certainly doesn't fear its workers.

Making search worse is good for Google. Reducing search quality increases the number of queries, and thus ads, that each user must make to find their answers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

If Google can make things worse for searchers without losing their business, it can make more money for itself. Without the discipline of markets, regulators, tech or workers, it has no impediment to transferring value from searchers and publishers to itself.

Which brings me back to AI search. When Google substitutes its own summaries for links to pages, it creates innumerable opportunities to charge publishers for preferential placement in those summaries.

This is true of any algorithmic feed: while such feeds are important – even vital – for making sense of huge amounts of information, they can also be used to play a high-speed shell-game that makes suckers out of the rest of us:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/11/for-you/#the-algorithm-tm

When you trust someone to summarize the truth for you, you become terribly vulnerable to their self-serving lies. In an ideal world, these intermediaries would be "fiduciaries," with a solemn (and legally binding) duty to put your interests ahead of their own:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/07/treacherous-computing/#rewilding-the-internet

But Google is clear that its first duty is to its shareholders: not to publishers, not to searchers, not to "partners" or employees.

AI search makes cheating so easy, and Google cheats so much. Indeed, the defects in AI give Google a readymade excuse for any apparent self-dealing: "we didn't tell you a lie because someone paid us to (for example, to recommend a product, or a hotel room, or a political point of view). Sure, they did pay us, but that was just an AI 'hallucination.'"

The existence of well-known AI hallucinations creates a zone of plausible deniability for even more enshittification of Google search. As Madeleine Clare Elish writes, AI serves as a "moral crumple zone":

https://estsjournal.org/index.php/ests/article/view/260

That's why, even if you're willing to believe that Google could make a great AI-based search, we can nevertheless be certain that they won't.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/15/they-trust-me-dumb-fucks/#ai-search

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

djhughman https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Modular_synthesizer_-_%22Control_Voltage%22_electronic_music_shop_in_Portland_OR_-_School_Photos_PCC_%282015-05-23_12.43.01_by_djhughman%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[elodieunderglass]

You know how I said that Dr Glass often says things about his childhood that sound like someone doing a bit? Like some kind of Terry Pratchett hobbit nonsense of a fictional English childhood in the shire in the vale of a white chalk horse in the company of a pack of other feral children, together, forever.

Tonight it was, “oh, I used to make itching potion. Out of rosehip seeds.”

I stared at him. “For what,” i said eventually.

“I can’t remember. Most of it was about making the potion, and the rest was probably smearing it on the other village children.”

I stared at him.

He said, defensively, “it was the 80s.”

Anyway there you go. Unexpected use for rosehip seeds apparently. Forage them to recover a sticky gel-like paste? that causes itching in your enemies? Follow the angry little man for more baffling insights

[soldat-buck]

i had a vision while making coffee this morning

bg3 culinary headcanons: Companion Edition

- Shadowheart: absolute zero regard for contamination while cooking. kitchen habits of a permanent bachelor. licks the tasting spoon clean and keeps using it to cook. eats hot cocoa straight out of the container with a spoon. thinks pouring ranch over an entire head of lettuce and eating it like feral animal while holding it over the kitchen sink counts as "salad". if you can get past the contamination thing, the food she makes actually tastes pretty good, even if it's sometimes odd (she cooks like a stoner, despite being perfectly sober. she is just Like That).

- Astarion: perfectly capable of cooking, and actually can cook quite well. food may not taste the same after becoming a vampire, but his enhanced sense of smell tells him nearly everything he needs to know about how to season and cook food properly. he doesn't cook because he doesn't like to (washing dishes? by hand? no fucking thank you, being undead is harsh enough on the nails and skin. finding a good lotion for normal undead dryness is already impossible)

- Lae'zel: in the modern world, if her life took her in a chef direction, she'd be in a Michelin star restaurant as the world's best and most terrifying sous chef. she absolutely would throw a knife at you for fucking up her plating (she'd intentionally miss. the first time). no nonsense is ever tolerated in her kitchen, but that doesn't necessarily mean she's got temper issues (her coldness and lack of tantrums is what makes her terrifying). she'd put Gordon Ramsay in his place for his rage theatrics and then make him weep with joy after serving him the most competent omelet he's ever had in his life. if she likes you, you may address her as "Yes, Chef!" outside of the kitchen.

- Karlach: uses 4 pots to make ramen. not because she's doing anything fancy or elaborate with it, the first pot was too small and started boiling over (whoops). the second one was, oh hold on, that's a cast iron pan, maybe you're not supposed to use that for boiling liquids, huh? wait shit, can't use this one either, i'm not supposed to use metal spoons on nonstick, don't want to scratch it. There we go! this one is the right size! and if i scratch this one, it's fine! wait, where the fuck did the flavor packet go (you should definitely be concerned about leaving her alone for the weekend)

- Wyll: very resourceful cook due to his Blade of the Frontier days. can improvise a meal out of damn near anything. can identify every edible plant and mushroom and tell you how to use it in a dish. would carry an herb garden in his adventure pack if he could. would absolutely thrive on the show Chopped (he's actually banned from auditioning again because it's not fair to the other competitors to have him on). he could make you a dessert featuring rattlesnake and fresh picked clover, and you don't know how or why, but you actually like it

- Gale: approaches the kitchen the same way he approaches most things in his life - academically. knows the proper safe temperature to cook meats/etc to, knows how to brown an onion, knows what seasonings are typically used together for certain flavor profiles and how to match seasonings to proteins. knife work sucks because he uses mage hand for mise en place and his mage hand has shitty DEX, but he's scared of his chef knife from the one time he sliced his thumb open (he was cutting an onion with improper hand placement and the knife slipped)

- Minsc: would exclusively eat by dumpster diving if it weren't for Boo's disapproval. eats like a human garbage disposal. he will eat a n y t h i n g that fits in his mouth, he is the least picky eater you will ever meet. does not understand how food challenges in the show Fear Factor are supposed to be challenges

- Halsin: world class forager. very competent hunter. prefers to eat everything as raw as possible. understands but doesn't believe in strict food safety because obviously stomach acid kills germs (and anyway, a little dirt here and there never killed anyone; exposure to germs is good for your immune system). open-mouthed kissing him is gambling with your health. makes the best vegetarian salads but do not trust any chicken he has "cooked". people with weak CON might want to consider avoiding his food

- Jaheira: uses Talk to Animals to Cinderella/Ratatouille rodents in the kitchen. she commands them like she's in perilous battle and the entire world is at stake (also rodents are worse to direct than cats, they do not know the difference between left and right. there's a lot of "No! Not that cupboard, the other one! NO, the OTHER other one! Flank him, he's off balance!"). making a cup of tea is a convoluted, stressful process that takes 10 times longer than just boiling the damn water yourself

if you want more bg3 culinary headcanons, there's also: the Absolute Edition

[ryllen]

Thought of detailing the lore, which i believe add more nonsense than sense.

+ Father is a metamorphmagus, who decided to live in the wild than among humans.

+ Helped a sickly woman who got lost in the forest once. He kept meeting her afterwards, and revealed himself as human. Then they fell in love.

+ The woman lived isolated from the village; believed she was cursed, she was outcasted. She fell ill & died some time after giving birth to their child.

+ The father decided to go back living in the wild while bringing the child with him.

+ Sometimes left the child cared by other creatures while he hunted/foraged for food.

+ One point the child got hurt, perhaps when he was gone wild creature attacked the herd of creatures the child was left with. He felt severely guilty over this carelessness.

+ Decided to give up his child to be raised in civilization, where it could be safer. Saw the Figs, and discreetly directed their attention to the child.

+ Nobody knows if he's still around because he is hard to track as metamorphmagus who can transform to anything at will. But perhaps he is watching somewhere from time to time.

[buggedboi]

A GOBLIN MANIFESTO

AWE & WONDER AT NATURE - RESIST THE TEMPTATION TO ONLY FIND BEAUTY IN FLOWERS - WE HAVE BEEN CONDITIONED TO REJECT BUGS AND DIRT FOR WE HAVE BEEN TAUGHT TO FEAR SEEMING UNCLEAN. THIS IS COLONIAL NONSENSE. NATURE IS MESSY AND COMPLEX AND ROTTING IS A FORM OF CREATION - EMBRACE ALL LIVING THINGS AND MARVEL AT THEIR PLACE IN THE ECOSYSTEM.

COMFORT IS RESISTANCE - PRIORITISE COSINESS! DOPAMINE DRESS, CUT YOUR HAIR IF YOU WANT, WEAR LAYERS THAT DON’T MAKE SENSE BUT FEEL GOOD ON YOUR BODY. ADVOCATE FOR YOUR NEEDS!

SHARE, DON’T HOARD - YOU ARE A GOBLIN, NOT A DRAGON. GREEDY GOBLINS ARE AN ANTISEMITIC TROPE - INVITE OTHERS TO ENJOY WHAT YOU FIND AND CREATE, INCLUDING NON-GOBLINS - MAKE OUR COMMUNITY IRRESISTABLE

PRESESERVE & PROTECT - NEVER TAKE MORE THAN NATURE NEEDS WHEN FORAGING OR COLLECTING - A FULL BAG FOR YOU IS A CHASM FOR BUGS. RESPECT LAWS THAT PRESERVE THE ENVIRONMENT, CREATE MISCHIEF BY WRITING TO YOUR MP ABOUT THEIR SUSTAINABILITY ACTIONS TWICE A WEEK.

LOOK DOWN FOR COOL STUFF ON THE GROUND, NOT ON OTHERS - PREJUDICE HAS NO PLACE IN THE GOBLIN COMMUNITY. MANY OF US ARE MARGINALISED AND FINDING FELLOW GOBLINS IS A HAVEN. MAINTAIN THE SAFE SPACE AND RESPECT THOSE OUTSIDE OF IT WHO MAY NOT UNDERSTAND US - SHOW THEM JOY IN A CULTIVATED COMMUNITY RATHER THAN DESPAIR AT BEING AN OUTSIDER.

[spaceysoupy]

Hello foraging friends! Don’t know how far this has gotten yet but there is a new and potentially DEADLY scam going on where AI generated foraging/botany/identification books are being sold on sites like Amazon, with mislabeled and misidentified species, including toxic fungi. Much of the content is utter nonsense, filled with grainy black and white photos, and authored by people who do not exist. Afaik the scam was first identified by a friend of mine on twt @heyMAKWA and info has only just started to spread.

Please check the sources of any foraging guide books you are considering purchasing and using! Never consume plants or fungi that you are not 100% sure are safe to eat!

Reddit posts about the issue

https://www.reddit.com/r/foraging/comments/15ur88d/please_please_be_careful/

https://www.reddit.com/r/foraging/comments/15p9b7t/ai_generated_foraging_books/

[blueraineshadows]

Devil's Snare

Garreth Weasley x F!MC

3.4k words NSFW 🔞 smut / bondage / slight tentacle kink vibe

This is a one-shot smut fic in collaboration with @newbienewness Her NSFW artwork has a censored version under the cut. Full version available on her Poipiku HERE

Despite the early afternoon hour, the skies were dark and heavy, the air thick with the impending promise of rain. MC looked up at the swollen clouds suspended above the Highland peaks and felt that frisson of expectation, the atmosphere heavy and full of anticipation, the pressure that always came before a storm. Adjusting her satchel on her shoulder, she turned back to see where Garreth had gotten to. She noticed the comforting sight of his copper hair, all tousled and in disarray, through the boughs of a bush. He was foraging for potion ingredients, humming a nonsensical tune as he carefully wrapped leaves in muslin and tucked them safely in his bag.

Smiling fondly, she brushed some loose strands of hair back into the twist at the back of her head and pursed her lips into a low whistle, the sound making Garreth turn expectantly.

“Maybe we should seek some shelter,” she suggested, pointing up towards the angry sky. “I think there is a storm incoming. Or, should we head back?”

Garreth squinted up at the darkening sky and nibbled thoughtfully at his lower lip. “We can’t go back yet, my angel cake,” he said, digging in his pocket to retrieve a crumpled piece of parchment, scanning his list of requirements he had scrawled hastily in ink earlier that morning. “We still need to find horklumps, and I could do with some more dittany, I’ve not gathered nearly enough considering the amount of healing potions I seem to make.”

He gave her a look through his lashes that brought a smirk to her lips, her hands planting themselves firmly on the curve of her waist as she looked at him. “I hope you aren’t suggesting I am accident prone, Weasley,” she huffed.

His grin was as infectious as ever as he tucked his list back into his pocket. “Darling, you are worse than me at stumbling across calamity,” he winked. “It’s one of the many things we have in common, including a rather wonderful habit of enjoying very inappropriate and addictive snogging.”

“Garreth…” she warned, her hands leaving her waist and lifting upwards as he strode purposefully towards her, a mischievous glint in his evergreen eyes. 

“Mmm, yes please,” he murmured, his arms snaking about her waist and tugging her closer against his solid frame, his lips seeking out eager kisses along her jaw before claiming her mouth in a warm and lingering kiss.

Her giggles immediately melted into a soft sound of pleasure at the swell of languid bliss only he could conjure as the kiss deepened, the impending downpour above their heads momentarily forgotten as his hands roamed downwards to cup her hips. Apparently the slow, and steamy sex they had shared in bed first thing this morning had not been enough to temper the burn in Garreth, his hands urging her hips against him as he hummed in appreciation. Six months married, and the honeymoon period was still firmly in full swing. 

Their feet scuffed through the long grass until MC felt the press of rough bark against her back, Garreth’s breathing becoming heavier and more heated as she threaded her fingers through the glorious tumble of his thick hair.

“Hmm, this isn’t finding your dittany, is it?” She murmured, her eyelids lowering as he mouthed along her throat with teasing lips.

“Dittany can wait, my love. I’ve caught the scent of a very different kind of foraging.” He smirked, his fingers dipping lower under the curve of her arse and pressing urgently into her soft flesh through her skirt. Her body responded eagerly, heat pooling with a swiftness that had her back arching wantonly. She could feel her resistance slipping away, the isolated wilderness of the Highlands and the blistering burn she had for her husband, making her willingly lose herself in the moment.

However, the distant rumble of thunder that cut across the goliath peaks surrounding them had other ideas about their lusty intentions. Glancing up at the ominous clouds, she clutched Garreth’s shoulders with a soft sigh.

“We need to get a move on, Garreth,” she warned. “If I remember correctly, there is a cave network up round the next bend in the path. We can shelter there.”

“And continue this rather enticing exploration?” He suggested, one eyebrow quirked salaciously as he nuzzled the tip of his nose against hers.

She huffed in amusement, cupping freckled cheeks in her hands and pecking him lightly on the lips. “How about we find those horklumps on your list?”

“And then nookie?”

Laughter bubbled up her throat as she looked at his eager face, her chest swelling with affection as she shook her head. “You are insatiable.”

“Can you blame me?” He grinned, squeezing the soft curves of her backside greedily.

“Come on,” she said, capturing his wrists and straightening away from the tree. “Let’s find that cave.”

Another louder roll of thunder echoed across the valley, and the first few drops of rain began to pepper the ground, splashing onto their cheeks as they began to hurry along the path. Flickers of sheet lightning lit up the sky, the birds that had been chirping in the trees falling silent as the atmosphere became loaded with tension, the very air they breathed thick with humidity and anticipation.

“Hurry,” Garreth said, catching hold of her hand, glancing up at the sky as larger splats of rain began to fall. “How far is this cave?” 

“I’m sure it’s just round this bend,” MC said, running now, their feet thudding against the dirt path with renewed urgency.

Wishing she had worn a cloak, MC clutched Garreth’s hand as they ran, the sky finally bursting and releasing a torrent of huge raindrops that began to plaster their hair to their heads. The path inclined up the side of the peak, her calf muscles beginning to burn from effort as Garreth urged her on. The rain was so heavy it obscured the view across the valley, her vision blurry as rain ran down from her hair and into her eyes.

Ahead, to the side of the path, yawned the black maw of the cave entrance. A creeping vine grew over the rock, long boughs drooping across the entrance and swaying gently in the quickening breeze.

“Quick, inside!” She shouted, a huge crash of thunder sounding above their heads.

It had been a long time since she had explored the caves in this part of the valley, their plans to forage slightly further afield than usual in order to seek out a higher abundance of crop seemingly landing them with fresh adventure. With the weather chasing them into shelter, MC glanced around the gloom of the cave entrance as she wiped rain from her cheeks, praying to Merlin that they wouldn’t disturb a nest of giant spiders.

“Oh, look! Horklumps!” Garreth stepped further into the gloom, dripping rain water as he crouched down near a cluster, pulling out his wand and a glass bottle for the juice. Horklumps could be feisty if not handled correctly, but Garreth had a magic touch with them, easing them carefully from their resting place and extracting the juice with gentle but firm hands. 

MC eyed the darkness that lay behind where Garreth was crouched, wary and uncertain of their safety. Drawing out her own wand, she moved carefully around him, lighting the Lumos spell to expose the rear of the cave. White light cast outwards in an orb that glowed brightly, revealing an incline tunnel that was seething with Devil’s Snare, its slick tendrils reflecting the light of her spell as it twisted and recoiled from the brightness.

“Careful, this place is full of Devil’s Snare,” she warned, leaning forward to peer down the tunnel. She lifted her wand to try and make the orb of light stretch further, gasping as a cold tentacle slithered against her arm. She flinched, losing her balance, and tumbled down into the coiling mass of the plant. Her wand flipped out of her grip and rolled down the incline, catching itself against a rock, the Devil’s Snare seeming to hiss as it recoiled from the flickering light.

“Garreth,” she cried, writhing against the twisting tentacles that began to immediately wrap themselves around her limbs.

Garreth got to his feet, hurrying forward with a look of alarm. “Don’t panic,” he instructed, holding his hands out towards her. “The light will keep it weak, you just need to relax and it should let you go. Deep breaths, sweetheart.”

She stared up at him, fighting back her flutter of panic as a chilled tentacle snaked up under her skirt. The cold caress of the plant against her thigh made her breath stutter slightly, a flush colouring her cheeks at the sensitivity it caused, her body already on edge and heated from her passionate kiss with Garreth under the tree. Her eyes fixated on the tentacle, wide and stunned as it wrapped around her thigh, the tip brushing against her underwear and drawing a surprised moan from her throat.

“What is it doing?” Garreth asked, his eyes scanning over her as she arched, writhing with a mixture of fear and shocked arousal. Her arms were pulled tight above her head as the greedy plant pulled her towards the tunnel wall, the leg wrapped snugly being pulled to one side and making her skirt ride dangerously upwards. 

“Garreth,” she gasped, her mouth falling open as the plant seemed to sense the shift in her emotions. “What’s happening?”

The way it moved and curled around her body was almost sensual, the slick tendrils not hurting her, but rather caressing along her limbs and holding her just tight enough to prevent her escape, but not squeezing her to death as one would expect. Her heart hammered as she became suspended within its grasp, her limbs spread and pinned, her skirt bunched up at her waist to expose her high stockings and panties.

What shocked her just as deeply was the darkened look that had crept across Garreth’s face as he watched, transfixed as she was spread before him, bound and helpless and completely stunned at the turn of events. He visibly swallowed, his throat bobbing as his gaze lingered between her thighs. 

“The plant…it’s…it’s touching you…” His voice was hoarse, uncertain, his eyes widening as the tentacle tip writhed right across her most intimate area.

A shocked moan left her, and she tried to look downwards, her arms reflexively pulling against her bonds as desire pooled in her stomach, but the plant subtly tightened and held her arms firm. This couldn’t be happening, and yet it was. Devil’s Snare was attempting to arouse her! A plant made for sin indeed.

“Is this normal?” She squeaked, another shocked sound leaving her throat as another tentacle began to slide up her other leg. 

Garreth slowly shook his head, mouth parted. “I honestly don’t know…but it’s rather…arousing. In a shocking, but darkly erotic way.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

He was moving forward, his hand sliding up her shin towards her knee, his spread fingers cupping her knee cap in a way that sent tingles of fire straight to her core.

“What…what are you doing, Garreth?” Her leg twitched at the combined touch of his hand and the devilish plant. “You’ll get captured, too. Stop.”

“Oh, I think it’s a bit late for that,” he murmured, his fingers dancing lightly up over the tentacle to curl into the embarrassingly soaked cotton of her panties. “Mmm, you’re so wet, sweetheart.”

“Gods,” she moaned, her head tilting back as Garreth slid two fingers into her throbbing heat, her walls tightening in searing bliss despite the utter disbelief that shuddered down her spine. “That feels…mmph.”

The tentacles writhed and held firm, the cavern lit by the glow of her spell still held by her wand on the ground, holding back the rest of the plant that swayed eagerly in the shadows of the tunnel. Her mind spun in dizzying circles as Garreth pumped his fingers in a toe curling rhythm, the warmth of his closeness in direct comparison to the chilled slither of her bonds.

“You are breathtaking, darling,” he whispered, his emerald eyes glittering with dark desire.

Her sweet Garreth, so wholesome and warm, the truth of her heart, was kneeling on a cavern floor, pleasuring her whilst a deathly plant held her captive. None of this made sense, the madness of it all adding to the building anticipation as her body betrayed all manner of sense and reason. MC found her restraint fading back into the shadows as she allowed the sinful pleasure to consume her blood, every thump and pulse of her heart sending aching need flooding through her body, her hips rolling against Garreth’s hand as the plant caressed and pinned her to the rock face.

She had no control over any of it, not the plant, or her husband as his hot breath fanned across the twitching flesh of her inner thigh. His copper curls brushed along the incredibly sensitive skin as he bowed his head lower, a cry of dark pleasure echoing around the cave as his mouth began to devour her flooded entrance.

She stared up at the writhing darkness of the cave roof, her chest heaving with each rasping breath, her moans desperate and low as she longed to bury her hands into Garreth’s silken hair. He knew what she liked, and he gave it to her effortlessly, despite the lingering potential death that coiled and slithered around them both.

Cool tentacles slid up her sides and curled at her neck, her hair slipping from its elegant twist to tumble about her face and adding to the wanton abandon that shone on her face. The added danger was inexplicably arousing, adding an edge to her pleasure that she couldn’t fathom, her core tightening with delicious fire that rolled in languid waves, back and forth in a building rhythm.

She thought she should cry out a warning, she should stop Garreth before things become too out of hand, and yet, her hips rocked to his rhythm, the Devil’s Snare seeming to understand and provide just enough pressure that increased the building ache.

“Garreth!” 

His name was a plea on her trembling lips, her chest and neck flushing with heat as a shockingly fierce climax began to rip through her, muscles tightening deliciously and her toes curling into graceful points like a prima ballerina. Her hands flexed into the darkness as the Devil’s Snare slithered soothing caresses along her limbs, coaxing the peak of her pleasure and prolonging the sweet agony as Garreth’s tongue swirled. Wave upon wave of fire rolled through her core, blistering under her skin and pulling muscles into pulsing tightness. The cry that left her echoed around the cavern, like a calling to whatever dark gods would listen.

Garreth lapped greedily, his tongue working her through the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced, savouring the essence of her release as he coaxed knowing fingers along her contracting walls. He moaned deeply, the low hum of it hot against her flesh, sending vibrations that echoed off the tingling aftershocks of her release.

“I can’t…” She whimpered, her head rolling to the side, her lungs expanding rapidly as she tried to breathe through the fire that consumed her. “Too much…”

“It’s okay,” Garreth soothed, pressing kisses along her thighs as he looked up at her flushed face, the sheen of sweat on her skin glistening in her wand light. “You are shaking, but I’m going to need you to try and stand. Don’t worry, I will catch you.”

Blinking wearily, she tried to focus on him with a frown. “What?” 

“On my word,” he said carefully. “Be ready to grab hold of me. Alright?”

Garreth was holding his wand, his gaze wandering carefully over the tendrils of Devil’s Snare that still writhed along her trembling limbs. MC tried to grasp a sense of reality, her blood still singing and her pulse flickering with an intensity that made the cavern spin. Garreth soothed a hand up her trembling thigh, his touch and the look in his eyes beginning to ground her as he aimed his wand into the heart of the dark, writhing mass that held her bound to the rock face. 

“Now! Lumos maxima!”

Blinding white light flooded the cave, the coiling mass of Devil’s Snare retracting violently with an audible hiss that sent shivers down MC’s spine. The tentacles holding her arms loosened immediately, releasing her from their grip, her upper body lurching forward so suddenly she gasped. Remembering vaguely what Garreth had said, she tried to reach out for him, her arms feeling like useless, weightless entities that missed him entirely. Her eyes were blinded by the sudden brightness, but she felt solid arms capture her as her legs were released from their cold bonds, her body wrapped into the comforting press of her husband’s embrace.

“I’ve got you,” he promised near her ear. 

They were moving, cool air drifting across her flushed cheeks as she blinked, the cavern entrance swimming into view. 

“Did that really just happen?” She croaked.

Garreth paused near the entrance of the cave, setting her down gently before sitting down against the rock face, gathering her into his arms and holding her with a reverent gentleness that was more in keeping with the man she had married, and not the darkly erotic master who had rendered her boneless back there. Meeting his gaze, she stared at the familiar lines of his face, the warm green of his eyes as she shivered and rubbed her hands over her the damp flesh of her forearms.

“I don’t know what came over me,” he said, biting his lip. “You were just…”

He shook his head, speechless.

“It was…sexy,” she admitted, blushing. “Dark…but sexy.”

He nodded, his eyes darkening once again as they travelled over her. “It really was.”

They stared at each other for a moment, the shock and disbelief evident on both their faces. The intensity of her pleasure had shaken her to the core, her soul rising up in an out of body experience that had shattered her mind and turned her insides into molten flame. How was it possible for a plant to invoke such power? There was no sense or reason to it, but the effects had left her trembling and in awe of the capabilities of her own desire. The intense intimacy of it all had her fingers clutching at her husband in an effort to ground herself.

“Don’t you dare tell Leander about this,” she warned, knowing Garreth told his best friend far too much as it was.

Garreth huffed a laugh, and shook his head. “He wouldn’t believe me, even if I did. No. I won’t be telling a soul about this. I can hardly believe it myself.”

Staring into the tunnel, she could see the soft glow of her wand illuminating the dark mass of writhing boughs of the plant, the twisting arms reaching up in undulating turns that seemed to be beckoning her back into their cold embrace. She shivered again, remembering the erotic allure of being bound and out of control. Her heart was beginning to return to a normal, steady beat, her body calming after the shock of that toe curling release. But, the memory of it lingered, a tantalising and erotic tease turning in her mind.

She slid her gaze back to Garreth, eyeing him curiously. “No more Devil’s Snare, but I wouldn’t be opposed to you tying me up like that and having your way with me. If you would so wish.”

His pretty eyes widened at her admission, that dark lust that made the green of eyes filter into the glow that came under forest canopies on summer days, his soft, damp lips parting as he considered her words.

“You still have the power to make me fall for you all over again. You know that, right?”

Her slow smile curved upwards, her eyes filled with the deepest bond of love she carried in her heart for him. “Is that a yes?” 

“It’s a fuck yes,” he said, tugging her forwards so he could kiss her full on the mouth with a groan.

Chuckling, she brushed back his hair and smiled against his mouth. “Then I suggest you go fetch my wand back, and get us out of here. Take me home and have your wicked way with me.”

“Yes, my lady,” he groaned softly, capturing her lips for another long and lingering kiss.

[not-terezi-pyrope]

Maybe a slightly uncautious wording I'm using for this post, but it's a pretty honest one.

Ecological care and sustainable foraging are important things that people should care and spread information about, but I am begging environmentalists online to understand that the worst way to package that argument for people who might not already care about it is to frame it in woo language like "talk to the plants and listen to their reply", even if it's allegorical, and/or relevant in your culture, and/or you think it's meaningful or poetic!

For a lot of people (myself included) for whom that is not the case it is practically a shortcut to me turning my brain off and being like "this person is either talking nonsense or to a culture I am not a part of and don't wish to engage in".

I feel like it's possible and necessary to spread environmentalist messages without playing druid in a way that will immediately cause people to roll their eyes if they aren't also into playing druid. We're not all eco-spiritualists, and some of us have very little patience for that kind of thing being pushed in serious discourse.

[darlingkirstein]

eremika in any sort of romcom setting hehe

i think this is romcom-y enough??? idk it's a silly little meet cute in fantastically cheesy unrealistic scenario so i think it fits the romcom vibe Teehee🩷 hope you enjoy my pookie wookie vic <3

actor au / fluffy / rated e for everyone / 3.6k

Mikasa toils over the counter, sifting through the different orders — many have rather well-renowned names attached — to decide which ones to tackle first. Being a barista proves more difficult than she initially imagined. All she needed was a simple job to help pay the rent; the coffee shop being on a movie studio lot has been an added bonus, a chance to mingle with stars.

And by mingle, she means floundering interactions with the latest growing stars with their persnickety drink orders, some quick to complain at the smallest errors. Whenever she gets the opportunity to see someone whose likeness is stamped on a poster in her room, Mikasa mangles all attempts at compliments. Trying to praise their work only culminates in rosy cheeks and baffled looks shot back in return.

Exhaling, she gets to work, going through the orders in a procession ascending from least complicated to most tedious. Everyone seems to want extra toppings these days, extra pumps of artificial syrups that turn their 'coffee' into little more than an excessively-priced milkshake. Whatever gets them through the day, she supposes. Making a movie is tricky work.

Mikasa understands this. Sorta. Or at least, she's attempting to. The acting jobs haven't exactly been falling into her lap, though basic probability encourages her that at least one of these countless auditions have to turn into something. She's desperate for anything — at one of her past attempts, an audition for a medicine commercial, the casting agent giggled midway through her delivery of some poorly-written script. The best Mikasa's ever gotten was being an extra for an episode of a new television show — which was promptly cancelled after a first season.

She finishes an affogato and a raspberry danish for Marilyn Lawrence, lounging around on her lunch break from shooting Saturn's Divinity. It apparently takes too much effort to acknowledge Mikasa's calls of her name, too preoccupied by whatever's on her phone to pay much attention.

"Marilyn!" Mikasa repeats, nervous for yet another celebrity interaction. Lawrence only just won a BAFTA for her performance in This Holy House.

With a scoff, the actress strolls to the counter, barely mouthing a thanks before sulking back to a table, carrying all her actress-y things with.

It's hard not to feel like pond scum when the upper echelons of the acting world are hardly willing to spare her simple pleasantries, yet alone anything resembling kindness. Mikasa brushes it off, moving onto the next order.

She just gets started before Marilyn returns.

"This isn't gluten-free, is it?" The spiteful manner in which she asks has Mikasa stammering even before she attempts to answer her question.

"I, uh— I actually don't know. Let me check."

Flustered, she ducks down, foraging for a paper or manual that lists the ingredients. This is something Mikasa knows she should remember, but this job has squeezed out so much of her brain capacity that little else remains.

"You really don't remember?" Marilyn laughs, and Mikasa can hear her continued click-clacking on the phone keyboard, probably complaining to a friend. "You could've killed me, y'know. People have this little thing called celiac. It's important."

Mikasa suspects that Marilyn Lawrence does not have Celiac disease, but she isn't willing to invite even more wrath. "I'm sorry, ma'am, you're—"

"Whatever. Just figure it out and fix it."

When Mikasa falls quiet to continue her search, she expects the frustration to simmer; it doesn't, and Marilyn continues to berate her, though most of her comments are utterly nonsensical. Mikasa's manager is nowhere to be found, useless for getting her out of this less-than-lovely situation.

Her savior comes in the form of a grey-haired gentleman in a suit, bewildered as he bursts through the door, scanning everyone inside — until his gaze falls on Mikasa. He smiles, cell phone pressed tightly against his ear. Though she cannot pin down his name, Mikasa recognizes him as some movie producer, a real big shot.

"You there! Barista! Come with me."

Stunned, Mikasa points to her chest. "Me?"

Marilyn scoffs again. "Uh, hello? What about me?"

The man ignores the Hollywood A-lister, brushing past her to reach the counter. "Yes, you. We need you. I'll explain when we get there. Come on."

Head in a tizzy, Mikasa cocks her head — squinting her eyes, unsure that she isn't fast asleep in the clutches of a dream. What did some movie executive want with some barista?

"I— I think you have the wrong person."

"Jesus, there's no time for this." He turns to the side, muttering harsh words into the phone. "Yeah— I found someone. Just give us a second."

He turns his attention back to Mikasa.

"Are you gonna come with or not? We need you."

At this point, Marilyn has surpassed the angry-scolding-stage and lands in stunned silence. Mikasa still doesn't know what she's needed for, but angering a Hollywood exec is a surefire way to get blacklisted from any future opportunities. They don't want any dead weight in a cast.

"Uh, yeah— No, I'll— I'll go. I'll go."

Opportunities like this are so rare. Mikasa gets so consumed by this fleeting chance that angering her boss isn't even a concern she consciously entertains. As the executive's eyes burn a hole through her head, she feels hypnotized to untie her apron, tossing it aside. It's tempting to pinch her arm, still convinced of a REM-induced trick, but before she can ponder it, Mikasa is crossing the counter, calling her co-worker's name.

The coffee shop's manager finally appears, and as Mikasa is whisked away by the executive's firm grasp, his protests join Marilyn's, though both go utterly unanswered as Mikasa jumps onto a golf cart waiting outside the doors.

It's hard not to feel like Cinderella climbing onto that pumpkin carriage, ready for the ball.

Mikasa's heart races. She tries guessing what possibly awaits her at the end of this ride. Some secret meeting? An agent, excited to tell her that they've been monitoring her auditions and love what they see? All options feel like a pipe dream.

They arrive at an outdoor filming set, and Mikasa wonders over the absolute chaos going on, the cameramen adjusting their equipment, the mousy-haired director shouting commands through his microphone, guiding the team. She recognizes from the lovey-dovey set design that this must be for Before Affection Retires.

"Hey," the executive barks, snapping his fingers, breaking her free from her daze. "Go over to that trailer. Get in costume and then get back here."

Costume? Mikasa is dazed. She can't produce any discernible response, tumbling out of the cart, speedwalking toward the right trailer. She's never done something requiring a costume, only her plain-old, regular street clothes, blending in easily in the background. This is all new.

Before she knows it, Mikasa is donned in a pretty dress that stops just below her knees, its color somewhere between plum and maroon, the shoulders flowy and graceful. The makeup process was even more foreign — Mikasa's daily makeup routine is simplistic to the core, but the stylist here wanted her eyelashes to pop, seductive and primed for romance. A curling iron turns her hair into bouncy, bombshell waves.

She feels so unlike herself, but adrenaline sends her speeding back for the scene of the action, toward the director still barking out commands.

"You!" He cries, pointing. "Get over here! We're starting a shoot in five minutes. Get a script."

Mikasa wonders if every movie set is this hostile, or if everyone here is just having a bad day. One page from the script gets pressed against her chest, along with one order. "Memorize this."

But before she can begin, a frazzled assistant debriefs her on the whole debacle, leading her to the side and gesturing around wildly.

"You know what you're doing? Can you act?"

Mikasa blinks. "Uh, yeah? I can, yeah."

It's clear that answer doesn't instill a whole lot of confidence in the assistant, but regardless, there's apparently no time to waste on nonsense.

"Diana Baldwin is a no show. There's no time in the schedule to skip her scenes today. You'll be filling in for her for the kiss scene. Got all that?"

Diana Baldwin? That's who I'm filling in for?

There's no time to be starstruck. "Got it. Yup."

"Alright, good. You'll say the lines, and they'll do the ADR in post production. You're just a stand-in. That's it. Don't expect overnight fame, yeah?"

Mikasa nods fervently, still so confused. "No fame. That's— I'm no— Why am I here?"

The question comes out without thinking, but that thought hasn't left her mind since the coffee shop, never able to ask in the swirl of chaos.

"You look like her from the back. Same height, same build. The editors can work their magic."

She'll be little more than a green screen, but the thrill of being on a big movie set, stepping in for an actress she's long admired, is worth it.

"Where do I go? Do I— How much time?"

"Three minutes. Get studying."

Mikasa sends herself into a corner to study, scanning the swoonworthy dialogue for the upcoming scene. A big scene. Important, crucial as the romantic climax for a major Hollywood production, and it depends on her.

The words sink in slowly, as best as they can. The last thing Mikasa wants is to earn a director's ire by flubbing the script to a laughable degree. She prepares herself to be flirty, desirable.

"You! Get ready to shoot."

Mikasa scoots into the filming area, finding the mark on the grass guiding her position. As she assumes the position provided by the script, glancing absentmindedly toward the side, she catches glimpses of camera operators approaching, microphones getting closer.

"Action!"

As directed, Mikasa tilts her eyes upward — finally catching a view at her co-star. Damn near jeopardizing the sanctity of the shoot, she struggles hard to keep her jaw from dropping.

Eren Jaeger. A total heartthrob. Mikasa's harbored a subtle (not really) crush on him for the last few years, just when he began his ascent into Hollywood relevancy. She's seen most of his movies, praising multiple as her favorites. God, Mikasa knows she'll even watch the less-than-savory options, the ones without glowing reviews — independent films with tiny budgets and screenwriters that need fine tuning. She has his films ranked by her favorites, but even that is a difficult list to maintain. Though his social media presence isn't huge, Mikasa keeps up with him.

And now she gets to kiss him.

He wears an outfit so casually suave, a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, the first couple buttons undone for an alluring effect. His shoulder-length hair is something you'd seen on a 1990s teen pop culture magazine, harkening to the age of 'effortless' hairstyles, so swooshy. Mikasa chooses Eren over a young Leonardo DiCaprio any day of the week without hesitation.

The lines nearly slip from Mikasa's memory. She's supposed to be flirty with Eren Jaeger; now, her tasks feels all the more insurmountable to live up to, the standards raised to their highest level.

As Eren approaches, he grins. Mikasa has to remind herself that it's the character he's smiling so pretty at, not her. Some fake girl. Not her.

The tragedy of that causes her to almost miss her first line, but she pulls it together. "You came?"

"Obviously," he replies, laughing, his palms immediately cupping her cheeks. Mikasa's glad the camera isn't focused on her face — which has turned a humiliating shade of red. "You didn't think I'd really leave you behind, did you?"

Mikasa swallows. What was the line? She exhales, as propositioned, smiling, mustering up as much desperation in her tone as she can. "I don't know." This young actress has never been this nervous. "You seemed like you were in a pretty big hurry."

Here comes the most swoonworthy dialogue, the part that'll send Mikasa into cardiac arrest. Eren, or whatever his character's name is, draws her closer, their noses rubbing together. The cameras are almost intrusive now — just like they've always been in her screen tests, her daunting auditions, the technology recording her failure.

At Eren's advancing touches, Mikasa recalls another direction from the script — touch him. She nervously rests her shaky fingers on his waist, clutching his shirt. Eren Jaeger's shirt. His smell is intoxicating this close, subtle but unbelievably attractive. Potent. He continues.

"No. Never. C'mon, El. Can't leave you. You know I can't leave you. Don't give a damn about all that."

Without context, Mikasa has no idea what all that even means, but it's irrelevant. Eren has his hands grasping her face, ready to confess his deepest feelings. She swallows hard, clearing her throat.

"Don't make promises you can't keep. You'll wanna leave again. I can't keep you here."

Her delivery has a shakier quality to it than a professional actress might have, but Mikasa's just proud of herself for not melting to a puddle.

Eren, formidable in his role, just as strong as he looks on the silver screen, pushes her back until they've stumbled into the stone railing behind them — a totally improved move that catches Mikasa off guard, her breath hitching.

Before she can process anything, his lips are latched onto hers, hungrily, his character so desperate to prove his affections to this El girl. He tastes just as good as he has in Mikasa's most shameful dreams, the ones where she gets to do exactly what she's doing now, standing tall as Eren's co-star, the recipient of all his perfectly-acted kisses across an excessive number of takes.

Happy to indulge in this fantasy, Mikasa loses herself in the scene, determined to live up to the expectations placed onto her. She clutches onto Eren, brave enough to engage her mouth, providing her own energy to the kiss. Good God. I'm kissing Eren Jaeger. This is all real.

"Not going anywhere," Eren mewls, too convincing in his 'acting', slipping into this character with so little effort. His hands find Mikasa's thighs, squeezing as she's hoisted into his strong arms, legs with no destination but to wrap around his waist. "I need you. I need you."

Mikasa can't contain herself. Her poor heart is close to giving out, and her stomach flips and clenches and every tumultuous sensation between. She forgets this is a movie, on a set, surrounded by strangers watching them kiss.

One more line. "Stay here. Stay with me, please."

"I will, you goddamn, gorgeous idiot. I'm here."

They kiss longer — so much longer — until the immersion is decimated by the director calling cut, leaving Mikasa in the unfortunate reality where Eren swiftly drops her down to her feet. Through the megaphone, the director praises them — before asserting that they would return for a second, precautionary take.

"Hey," Eren starts, his regular, out-of-character tone somehow so different from his voice during shooting. He's more relaxed. Mikasa's used to this voice from all the interviews she's seen.

"Hi." She keeps her eyes averted, too flustered to even dare looking at him after that. He's famous. She's a nobody, wannabe actress that's stuck working a part-time throwaway job. Still, her awkward smile seems to endear her to him.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry for surprising you like that. Felt like it might help the scene." He sounds pleased with himself for concocting the idea. "I didn't hurt you or anything, did I?"

As if he couldn't get anymore perfect. He's a massive sweetheart, too, not some prima donna.

"No— not at all. It was— it was clever."

"You think so? I worried it might be too much."

She's unsure how to reassure him of the move's success without exposing her gigantic crush.

"I think the women watching will be happy."

Eren laughs and it's sublimely charming. "Well, then I'm happy with it. You're all hard to please."

Behind her back, Mikasa fidgets with her fingers, cracking her knuckles like crazy — anything to relieve the what-is-happening-right-now energy coursing through her bloodstream and incapable of exiting any of her brain's fixated thinking.

"Ah, well— I doubt you could disappoint them."

Instantly, she wants to slam her palm so hard into her forehead that it sends her flying. He doesn't need another weirdo fangirl. I've seen the comments on his Instagram. There's enough of those already. If he's annoyed, Eren conceals that frustration with ease, accepting the vote of confidence with a gracious simper.

"Thanks." He exhales deeply, finding his place beside her against the railing. "Are you an actress? How'd you get wrapped up in all this?"

Calling herself an actress in Eren's presence seems rather reductive of his talent. Mikasa shrugs, biting the inside of her cheeks. "Sorta? Not really. I'm— I'm trying to be, at least."

Eren smiles. "Have I seen anything you've done?"

He's much easier to talk to than someone like Marilyn Lawrence. He's more— more human.

"If you watched Avalon Harbor, you might've caught me in the background for a second. I think it was at 36:20, if you feel like double checking."

Pathetic as it sounds, her jokes makes Eren snort, and Mikasa considers that a win. "You know what, I'll have to give it a rewatch sometime."

A different production assistant brings them bottles of water while they wait to reconvene. There's a painful silence between them — a silence that Mikasa wishes to fill with a million questions about his acting, his roles, his journey from child clothes model to big screen cash cow.

Somehow, though, he's equally interested in her.

"So, Ms. Avalon Harbor, you didn't really answer my question. Where'd they find you?"

Mikasa sighs. Now he'll really know I'm a loser.

"The coffee shop down the street. I work there."

He laughs again. "I— I didn't expect that one."

Just as she's about to attempt another joke, anything to hear his pretty laugh again, the director cuts their conversation short, summoning the cast and crew back into position.

"It was nice to chat with you— Wait, what's your name? Just realized I have no idea."

She swallows, lump building in her throat. You're about to be on a first name basis. "Mikasa."

"Eren," he replies, a formality more than anything. "Maybe we'll get to work together again one day."

Don't get your hopes up, she tells herself. "I'm happy to just be in the audience, really."

He smiles as he backpedals back to his starting position, and that smile lingers on Mikasa's brain all the way until the director calls action.

Returning to her barista job after the previous day's events is harder than she anticipates. Getting a taste of a real actresses' life didn't quench that dream — it only thickened her thirst to be on more movie sets, to experience the thrill of producing something from nothing, to turn a script into a visual manifestation for audiences.

Kissing Eren Jaeger played a big part, obviously.

It's hard to keep her mind off their scenes while cleaning the counter during a lull in customers. Her eyes fixate onto the speckles hidden into the quartz countertop, utterly lost in a daydream, replaying the kiss in her head just like she's rewatched some of Eren's movies on repeat.

A gentle voice cuts through her folly.

"What do you recommend? I can't decide."

Startled, Mikasa gets ready to issue so many apologies for being so ditzy, so inattentive. The last thing she needs is a customer complaint.

When she catches the man's eyes, she's even more startled to see Eren standing there.

"Oh! It's you, I— I'm so sorry, I didn't—"

"No need to apologize. Did I scare you?"

Behind Eren, some customers look up from their coffees to gawk at him — the penalty that comes with achieving some stardom (and the unfortunate consequences of being blessed with unnaturally beautiful cheekbones).

Mikasa laughs, flustered. Her cheeks give away just how unprepared she is for this encounter.

"A little, yeah. Thought I was gonna get an earful."

"Nope. Just wanted to stop by and see you."

See me? It's too good to be true.

"Uh, you did?" Mikasa chides herself. This flirting isn't very good, considering that their tongues were practically wrapped together just yesterday.

Eren leans across the counter, gushing his voice to avoid any pesky eavesdropping.

"Sure did. You're a fun co-star. That's rare these days. Plus, you're a pretty good kisser, too."

Instantly, Mikasa's hand covers her face, the redness flushed across her features too much to bear — Eren Jaeger likes my kissing. Me.

Undisturbed by her inability to accept his compliments with any decorum, Eren continues, glancing quickly at the clock on the wall.

"Do you have a break coming up? I'm done for the day. Thought we could go for a walk. If you want."

It's starting to dawn on her how quickly her life has been rocketed off its predicted trajectory because of a resemblance to another actress.

Is he actually asking me out? She hasn't felt this giddy in— well, since his last movie came out.

"I'm off in ten minutes, actually. I'd— I'd love to."

"Great. Then it's settled. I'll take you on a tour."

A lackluster shift becomes the second-best she's ever worked, just trailing behind yesterday's. She smiles so brightly, hard enough to hurt her cheeks, straining the muscles that she usually saves for pretending to tolerate customers.

"Do you still want that recommendation? I can make something for you while you wait."

He grins, amused. "Oh no, I don't like coffee. Just needed something cute to get your attention."

Unwilling to let her get the last laugh, Eren sticks a bill into the tip jar and slinks off to one of the tables, smiling at her from hidden his hand.

Mikasa blushes.

He might be a good actor, but he's just as terrible at hiding a crush as I am.

— (Hope you enjoyed reading! It would be so fun to imagine how they'll spend their walk and how their little courtship would develop into a relationship 🩷 eremika wholesome moment was very fun to write after so much angst!)

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Alice 'Allie' Parkington is WonderSpider!

____________________________________

Miguel: One year and four months ago, I devised the formula for inter-dimensional travel, allowing me to open portals across the multiverse. I created an elite stri-

Alice: Oh, Okay! -

[Alice is the result of a 'Adapt-A-Spider' Challenge, where you adapt a pre-existing character into a Spider! You can see more of my fun Spidersona challenges HERE]

(Also HUGE THANKS to @fairytalespider who made the OG SpiderSnow!)

Gwen Stacy isn't the only blonde who knows about miraculously falling through wormholes.

Except Allie got sent to the universe with talking animals, and a maniacal queen with of taste for beheadings. Not that she's complaining. Not when the tea parties are so delightful~

At 7 years old Alice Parkington found a white waist-coated rabbit, on a hurry to who knows where -

And she followed him, fell down a hole, and never came back.

Origins:

[Alice's world is a mix of the book's portrayal, the cartoon's, and Tim Burton's (though I haven't seen the movies). Her story begins at the end of book - a similar ending to the cartoon movie, but instead she doesn't wake up.]

After losing a game of croquet to The Red Queen of Hearts, Alice is sent to the dungeons, awaiting her beheading on the Queen's orders. That is, until she finds an enchanted Spider in her cell, sent by an ally. When she's bitten, it gives her all the power of Wonderland - and binds her there forever. After escaping The Red Queen's Death Row, Alice was adopted by the woman who helped free her - The kind but exiled The White Queen or Marmoreal, aka Her Aunt Mirana.

Now The Blue Princess of Marmoreal, Alice is next in line for the throne, and the web-swinging protector of Tugley Woods, Wonderland. She spends her days fighting against the tyrannical and murderous rule of The Red Queen of Hearts, and The Court of Cards. With The Mad Hatter as her martyred Uncle Ben - Alice calls Wonderland her home, though she's always left questioning what's real and what isn't. At this point, she's accepted she'll never know the answer. So when she's recruited for Spider Society, it's just another rabbit hole to go down, and another adventure to fall into. On campus she's known as WonderSpider, and she's a lot more powerful (and ruthless) than you'd think.

Design and Personality:

Alice is a lot less sugar and a bit more spice, with her personality taking after the book (moreso than the movies).

Alice is bubbly and independent. She's as curious as a cat and as chatty as a bird. And she's all about asking questions and finding her own way in the world.

She's loves tea parties and foraging and making crazy experiements in the Hatter's workshop. And now that he's gone, she still finds herself in there, cooking up another magical sweet or Victorian style gadget. When she's not doing that, she's at The White Queens side, begrudgingly taking (literally) nonsensical etiquette classes. She isn't afraid to speak up for herself and others. And once she makes her mind up, it's settled.

Despite what some may think, she's isn't an entire lunatic. She's hasn't gone Wonderland Mad yet.

Even since a young girl, Alice has always been known for asking questions - trying to find the sense in nonsense before coming to a conclusion. She's great at picking up on details, and thinking outside the box. And she's always the one to keep a level head, no matter what the circumstances. Doom is not assured when reality is subjective. She's as logical as she is loopy, and although some may think there's nothing going on between her ears, they are sorely mistaken.

She always wears her glasses. She needs them to see.

Or rather, she needs them to see correctly. Having a cause of The Mads, taking off her glasses distorts her vision of the room into a psychedelic and disorienting wonderland version itself - which hurts. She keeps them on always. Though they can be knocked off during battle. Like other Spider-people - The lenses squint, blink, and emote. They have a permanent and consistently moving patterns and colors. Between blinks, the design may change, the swirls changing color or direction. Sometimes the words she's saying may flash over them for emphasis, and they can contain anything from exclamation points to tie dye.

Alice is a de facto genius.

An expert chemist, Alice has mastered dozens of recipes and chemistry formulas using the vegetation in Wonderland. She's cracked the code to rabbit holes, and has an amazing affinity for science and theoretical theory. And if she doesn't understand a certain law of physics or something, she can just choose to ignore it. Literally.

Powers & Abilities:

Hobie told Alice that laws are oppressive. She agreed, told him she hates the laws of physics - then started floating to the ceiling like a balloon. Needless to say, reality doesn't really work for Alice. And she cannot control it.

But no matter what her misfortune, though - She'll always say 'Oh, dear.'

Reality Warp:

Wonderland has side effects. Alice can grow and shrink at will, but once she's there, she can't go back. When she wants, she can manifest rabbit holes to Wonderland on any flat surface, but she doesn't know where they are - so she always falls into them. Her tears are huge, and they flood any room. And for some reason, she's obsessed with cookies. It she sees one, she'll eat it. It doesn't matter if it says 'Eat Me' or not. If you hand her something and tell her to drink, she will. It's the one thing she won't question, although she should know better. She'll read the label, and if it's not clearly labeled bleach or poison, she's drinking it. If it's not those two things, it must be safe right?

The Power of Imagination:

Like Spider-Ham has the Super-Slapstick ability, Alice has the Power of Imagination on her side. If she can make logic of it or believe it, then there is a random chance it will happen. If the team is looking for a way past a locked door, Alice may say 'If only there were a mousehole somewhere here. Mice are such scampers, they can get into anywhere!' There will probably be a 1/4 chance of a mouse running by, leading them to a cartoon like mousehole she can shrink and go through. However, Alice can't will it to happen. She can't be asking or hoping for it, and the thought has to be completely innocent and 'wonderous' for it to work. The ability can also be compounded, with multiple unlikely things happening rapid fire - however this is less likely and HIGHLY dangerous if done in other universes, and is likely to cause an anomaly. Plus everyone else involved goes a tad bit 'loopy' for a bit.

This ability only works outside of Wonderland, and it was discovered by Miguel.

When Alice met Miguel, she began to question his interesting suit, and so she asked. Miguel began to explain to her, but confused, Alice said 'Well, that's nonsensical. Surely you can't wear light like fabric. If that were true, I could pull this right off you.' - And then she did. And suddenly she was holding his suit in her hands as if it were made of fabric, and Miguel was there in his underwear.

Alice's response: 'Oh dear.'

Chesire Mode:

When surrounded by enough chaos or kinetic energy, Alice can go Chesire Mode, and really goes off the bend. She experiences full Wonderland Madness - similar to the Hatter, and gains the ability to unravel herself and turn invisible. Her voice begins to echo, creating a disorienting and hallucination-like affect. Doing this is known to cause madness, but it affects everyone in the room.

Equipment:

WebShooters: Alice uses mechanical Web-Shooters created by her and The Mad Hatter. Her webs are silly string and streamers. 'Bow'-nus Arms: Alice's waist ribbon is extendable like Mr.Fantastic's limbs, serving essentially as a second set of arms. However, when it's off of her, it's much more similar to Doctor Strange's cape, having a mind and personality of it's own. She can take it off and ask it do it, and it'll go off and (try it's best) to do it, just like a snake. It's name is David Bowie. She does not know who David Bowie is - it's just a coincidence: it's family name is Bow-ie, and David is a common name.

Random Facts:

Alice hangs out with a lot of the 'Eccentric' and Mini Spiders - She likes others from cartoons or fairytales, or anyone made for whimsy.

And she likes spending her time small.

She has a crush on Lego Spider-Man. She shrinks to be with him lol

He naturally finds her a little offputting, they're NOT a thing but she wishes (sis he's literal plastic)

Alice's best friends are SpiderPetal, SpiderSnow (@fairytalespider), SpiderFairy (@stardust948) and Spider-Ham.

Since they all live in either a woodland area, a cartoon, or both, those are usually who she's with

Though she only goes small around people she trusts - but never someone like Miguel. In fact, with Miguel, she does the opposite.

When Miguel is in the room, Alice prefers to grow 'full size' as in... taking up the whole room giantess style.

She says it helps, because 'It makes Mr.O'hara look like a little toy soldier.'

With the size of his lair, she can often grow taller faster than he can get lower - so he'll stay up there, and she'll grow to meet his eye.

She can decide when to stop growing or shrinking, just not when she'll turn back.

This power is transferable. Alice's wonderland powers still work elsewhere, and so her cookies and drinks do too.

Alice can only keep 1 cookie and 1 drink on her at one time, never more, it'll always be ruined.

She can use these to either extend her state, or have someone shrink or grow along with her.

But once she uses the one of each item, she can't get more until she returns home and makes more.

HOWEVER. HOWEVER - Alice is down for deals.

If you come to her world and ask for some cookies or potions, she'll give it to you. But there's a mandatory tea party involved, and the only payment she asks is that you bring sweets for the guests - Vegan please!!

(Her favorite is angel food cake, after cookies of course)

Those aren't the only ones - she has dozens of sophisticated concoctions for any need - floating and weightlessness, invisibility, even the ability to mimic voices perfectly -

And just the same, she's able to carry one of each when outside of Wonderland.

A frequent customer of hers is Hobie. He puts the potions to work - plus he makes the best vegan coconut macaroons.

Oh - also DO NOT Drink her tea though - it's made with Wonderland Tea Leaves....Great for a good time, horrible for bedtime.

Despite not knowing her specific age - Alice is a young adult - and she works at The Society.

Her Uncle Hatter was a master chemist, alchemist, magician, chef - and dozens of other things. And for years, Alice studied under him.

Originally, Miguel assumed all of this knowledge would be non-transferable nonsense, but - wrong.

Alice is one of the leading scientists at The Society - with a concentration in Multiversal Physics, studying everything from the visual styles of universes, the path between universes, and differences in time.

She'll often say something, only to get dismissed by Miguel.

But Lyla will cut him off, telling him that scientifically, Alice IS making sense.

It's just that because her world is totally backwards, the ideas she has to describe her thoughts are backwards too.

After a while, she becomes one of the main people to write the updates and programs for the watches, working with Miguel as her boss.

She's like a bop-it, full of weird and very useless quirks.

If her feet get wet, they make the duck waddle sound when she walks.

If she hits her head, it makes the TikTok 'Boink' sound. She runs and it makes the Flintstones noise.

If she stubs her toe or gets hurt on something tiny, she'll scream like Tom The Cat.

She burps bubbles (like the soap kind) and her sneezes sound like one of those party straw thingies.

Sometimes her Wonderland powers play tricks on her. She'll be like 'I'm outta here!!' then walk into a looney toons wall. And she's so embarrassed cause the cartoon noises make it so much worse fhgsuigdf

Sometimes when she tries to run she stays in one place for a second before the running kicks in (like a cartoon) - and Miguel just grabs her and she's like 'Dratz, I was trying to get away.'

She enjoys hanging out with Hobie, though she does not understand him at all.

Like, she's British too - did I mention she's British, cause she's from Victorian England -

But she has no opinion on his ideology because it's ???? lost on her

He's like 'This is a metaphor for capitalism' and she'd be like 'I don't know what that is.'

He's like 'count your blessings'.

But Hobie LOVES that Alice doesn't stick to the rules -

and that she gives the middle finger to the laws of physics by just existing

He's like 'That's so cool, what you just did. Real Metal.'

She's like 'I suppose I am just a container, filled with slowly decaying food - so in that way, I am quite like a fridge, which is cool and made of metal-'

And he's like 'what are you talking about-'

And they mainly hangout because they're both lazy.

Alice is tirrreeed of all these weird physics rules and new technology and non talking cutlery.

She'd much prefer to take a nap, or wander off, of have a tea party, or do ANYTHING that isn't work. Same girl same

And that's it! Most of it, I'll probably maybe maybe not write a post about her joining the society and how it completely warps her perception of reality because she's been trying to get home for so long, she doesn't even know if her home exists then there's this new society through ANOTHER wormhole but she still can't get home-

Oh and before I go, her intro art is inspired by Qveen Herby's single Abracadabra!

Yeah. If you made it this far THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME UR TIME! Thank you so so much for entertaining me I MEAN IT THANK YOU I KNOWI POST SO MANY OCS AND IT'S KINDA OVERWHELMING SORRY AAHHH MY BRAIN CANT STOP I CANT FOCUS HELP

Anyway I'm normal

HERE HOBIE

Bye.

[homunculus-argument]

Hey! I bumped into your post about the Russian man who has Rusalki in his pond and Baba Yaga's house poops in his yard occasionally. I liked it a lot. It's a shame that people always focus on Eurocentric supernatural folk stories and don't give Russian folk stories a chance. Slavic mythology, in general, is awesome.

I've wanted to do something with finnish folklore in a magical realism sort of setting, but I haven't figured out how to get the vibe right. Finnish folklore isn't particularly epic, mainly the supernatural is just mundane everyday things that want to ruin your crops, eat your cattle and kill you, just like every other daily inconvenience of rural farming life.

There was this concept of metsänpeitto - "cover of the forest" - where someone going through the woods either accidentally slips through the veil to the side of the forest spirits, or is covered up by the elves or tonttu on purpose (they'll do that out of spite because they're dicks), where everything looks the same or eerily similar, but you can't find your way back home. Sometimes you even can find your way home, but somehow can't touch anything or be seen by anyone, or they don't recognise you.

There's magic things you can do in order to try to undo it and get back to your own side, but most of the time you're just as hopelessly lost as a fly that's stuck between two window panes and can't figure out why it can't fly right through. People and cattle that were lost this way sometimes appear weeks later, starved startled and haggard, but sometimes the forest just covers you up and you never find your way back.

I wanted to incorporate this into a magical realism story, set in a world very much like modern Finland. Metsänpeitto isn't confined to forests anymore, there's woodland spirits that have adapted to life in cities just the same as pigeons, rabbits and jackdaws that forage their food from city parks and human trash. At one point the characters are in a city and can't find their way, and one of them realises that his cell phone has no connection and half the street signs are all garbled nonsense - shit, they're in spirit cover!

And his companion looks at him like no you idiot, you forgot to pay your phone bill again, and reminds him they're in the south. The signs aren't garbled nonsense, they're in Swedish.

[themetalvirus]

i wish i had more of a handle on knuckles i wanna do serious character analysis on knuckles.

easily embarrassed. easily angered. full of love. trusted too easily and now doesn't trust anyone (except for like 6 people). poor guy's first friend was eggman and like it or not it informs a lot of who he is today and how he interacts with people. super awkward from being isolated for so long (knuckles and silver solidarity). obviously cares deeply about his land and culture, loves it and mourns for it in equal measure every day. protects his true friends and is always there if you truly need him, despite his insincere grumblings. scared of company, grateful for company, longs for company.

great forager and gardener. bad with technology, overstimulated by bright lights and a lot of noise, is generally a guy who Wants To Go Home (his autism....). uncomfortable in positions of authority (The War) but still likes to Have A Say. does not tolerate nonsense unless he's in on the nonsense (sonic and him shoot each other out of cannons for fun i think). skilled weaver, skilled at making jewelry, skilled with survival, awkward around chao but is still very very good with them because he's lived with them his whole life.

adventurous, though not great at adapting to new situations (the autism). likes exploring / learning about other ancient cultures, languages, and peoples. curious about the nature of the world (where the master emerald came from, general existential stuff). likes a challenge. shows affection via mutual snark and/or deep talk about the universe. doesn't know much about planes but likes listening to tails talk about them.

is so hard on himself that he seriously contemplates ending his own life if he feels like he has failed his duties. feels like he exists for one purpose, despite his value to the world being much more than that. fears leaving his post because of multiple terrible experiences around leaving the master emerald unguarded, making him paranoid and wary, but his initially justified fear ends up isolating him and stunting him further. good thing his friends are so insistent on visiting and getting him out to see the world - he needs that.

again, is always there when you really need him. isn't good at emotional stuff but is a great shoulder to cry on nonetheless. heart achingly honest and genuine. will say what he thinks. doesn't pick up on social cues very well (autism). doesn't like admitting when HE needs a shoulder to cry on, but his loving friends are there for him even if he doesn't say anything - they know him well.

pushes people away to make himself feel safe and protect his squishy center - some of his best friends annoy the shit out of him because they insisted on being best friends with him anyway. great company once you get to know him. makes people laugh - time spent with sonic has honed his sense of humor.

precise, steady hands. great spatial awareness and reasoning. knowledgable about traditional medicine. is very clean and smells good. punches real good. good at conserving ancient artifacts and ruins - cleaning them, protecting them, maybe even retouching them or making some of his own.

he's so scared of being wronged. he longs for company. he's lonely. he's hard on himself. he's so full of love. he looks amazing in hats. and his song lied he DEFINITELY chuckles

[lassieposting]

Y'all ever think about how Young!Vesemir would still have to take contracts to provide for the Kaer Morons

Give me little Witchers who are left alone in a cramped room above a tavern for days at a time, told to sit tight and keep quiet and not draw attention because they're surrounded by humans and he won't be there to protect them

Little Witchers teaming up to look after Vesemir when he comes back from a hunt injured and exhausted. Double-mutated Geralt gets Stitching Duty, because he's got the steadiest hands. Eskel sits by Vesemir's head and distracts him during the unpleasant bits. Lambert gets sent out to make sure Vesemir's horse is stabled/untacked/fed/watered/groomed, and Remus goes running down to the innkeep to make sure Vesemir is fed and watered too.

Little Witchers who realise, as children inevitably will, that their parental figure is struggling, and try to ease the load. Geralt will venture out to forage for potion supplies while Ves is away. Eskel learns to charm free meals out of motherly innkeepers with compliments or the offer of helping out with chores. Lambert is a shameless little thief, but sometimes he'll filch something Ves can sell when their coin is low.

Vesemir who freezes in place the first time he comes back to a tavern, bloody and covered in mud, and is greeted by a gaggle of little Witchers running to hug his legs, because? He's their only stability. He's their protector, their provider, the only source of positive attention they really have. He's often sarcastic and short-tempered and sharp-tongued, but they miss him when he's gone, and they feel safer when he's back.

Vesemir who goes from oh no, absolutely not, every single one of you sleeps on his own bedroll to ugh fine whatever but the first one of you little bastards to kick me is getting yeeted when the pups all dogpile onto his bed after he's been away a while or someone has a night terror or he's hurt and they're worried about him.

Vesemir who shrugs off hateful comments aimed at him with a snarky comeback, but will absolutely throw the fuck down with anyone who starts in on his boys.

Little Eskel and Geralt - the oldest, the first to notice that Ves will go hungry so they can eat when funds are low or opt to replace Lambert's boots over replenishing his potion ingredients - who always ask to tag along on hunts. They can help! They'll be useful! They won't get in the way! They want to pull their weight!

Vesemir who actually realises that his own relationship with his father figure was more distant than he would've liked, as a boy. He idolised Deglan, wanted his approval. Deglan took a special interest in his training, served as his mentor for his first year on the Path, called him an affectionate nickname. But never hugged him. Never said he was proud of him. Always taught him that Real Men Need No One, young feller, now let's have none of that pansy nonsense.

Vesemir who sees the pups go from fearing him to missing him and trying to look out for him and seeking affection from him when they're scared or sad or pleased to see him, and makes a conscious decision that actually, Deglan, you were wrong. Yes, being cruel to be kind is often essential to Witcher training: it's a tough, dangerous, survival-of-the-fittest lifestyle. But real men hug their fucking kids

Just. Jesus I am like two years late to this party and absolutely consumed by single dad Ves feelings send help