#its unfunny to everyone else but the moment it came out of my mouth it became an inside joke in my group

[valentinesparda]

💬 + whichever Baldur's Gate 3 character you feel strongly towards !

@melviships i wish I could give you a big elaborate lore-filled answer to this but I find it really hard to keep my motivation to play more bg3 so here's a bit of unfunny dialogue I can bet would be part of my insert's lore, based on an actual conversation I had in character during my first DND campaign ever:

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MORRIGAN: [ *while tuning their lute* ] "you know shadowheart, i can play many instruments. meaning i'm very good with my hands."

SHADOWHEART: "i hope that involves you wielding a knife properly."

MORRIGAN: [ *known for missing throws in combat* ] "haha. yeah."

[7livky]

Dionysus - Park Jimin

CHAPTER 12

"We were together in our previous lives and will be together in our next life"

- DNA by BTS

Jimin's POV

I got out of the shower as Jungkook tossed me my bathrobe. "Thanks" ,I smirked and he smirked back. I looked at my reflection as the drops of water in my hair fell on my forehead.

"Here" ,Jungkook handed me a small towel, winking at me and walking out of the bathroom with his own wet hair. I grinned slightly before drying my hair with the towel.

"Taehyung, you burned my food!"

Even though I was one floor up, I could hear Jin's screams all the way up here. And I was sure that Taehyung was laughing like a devil right now.

"Yoongi, say something to him!"

Silence as usual.

I laughed out loud, stepping out. There was a beautiful sunset that made my dark walls look like yellow and red. As with every evening glow, I filled my glass with red wine and watched the sun coloring red.

Just as I was about to go and change, a second light shone into my field of vision. I put the glass back on the table and watched the conch. A sparkle surrounded its shape as it flickered. Then suddenly a blue butterfly flew through the window, landing on the white shell.

I immediately loosened the bows of my bathrobe before getting dressed. Standing in front of the mirror, my hair dried with a single stroke of my hand. Was it called magic or power?

I hurried down and ran faster and faster. "Jimin where to?" everyone asked.

Without observing them, I hurried through the corridor and stopped in the entrance hall. Only seven days since I couldn't perceive this scent, and yet I realized how much I'd missed it.

"Three," I leaned against the front door, "Two," smiled slightly, "One."

"Park Jimin! Open the door!"

I heard a loud honking instead of a knocking behind me.

"Come on!"

Still the same annoying honking.

"My beauty" ,I said to annoy her while she stared at the open door and back at me. I took a step forward. "One more inch and your car would be in the pillar."

"I don't" she got out, "give a fuck." With her finger pointed at me, she was slaloming up to me.

"Did you drove here drunk?" With bare feet, I ran down the steps to catch her.

"Don't touch me" ,she screamed even though she was already hugging me. "I hate you" ,she then whispered as she buried her face in my neck.

Her eyes were like evening air, her voice like a rose as she continued to form cursing words with her lovely lips.

"I knew you were near me" ,I said, stroking her head.

Without letting go of me, " How?"

I smiled as dozens of butterflies fluttered around her body. "Look around you, Diona."

Her warm body moved away from mine before she raised her arm and one of the invertebrates landed on her thin index finger. " They are beautiful.."

"For all I know, this species loves water plants. Funny, it seems like they really like you."

She looked into my eyes and lowered her arm, on which the blue butterfly had just lingered. "You haven't answered my question."

"When I tell you, you will leave" ,I pulled her back to me, "and I will miss you again."I brushed against her rosy cheek.

"JIMIN-SSI!"

Jungkooks roar echoed through the hall. Drunk Diona in front of me couldn't contain herself and laughed like a donkey. Before she would sit down on the steps to laugh more comfortably, I grabbed her light body and pulled her in.

"Hey! That's called kidnapping!"

"Don't you dare hit me again, Diona," I turned to her, seeing her fist floating in the air.

" How- I, huh?!"

The boys exchanged their looks when they noticed us in the room. Jin's eyes widened as he bent over. "Welcome, Diona."

On her wobbly legs, she also bent over. "Good evening, guys."

"I couldn't introduce myself last time. Hi, I'm Seokjin-"

"The gaffer in the group."

Jin threw the fork in his hand at Taehyung. I slapped my forehead and let her fall onto one of the free chairs. "You'll eat something and sober up."

She hit the table. "Stop-giving-me-ORDERS!"

"DIONA!" Jungkook yelled with that same Jiminssi voice.

But she rolled her eyes instead of being intimidated. "You go drink your banana milk, JK."

Before you knew it, Jin was already laughing like a windshield. "Worldwide funny goddess ha ha!"

My throat dried up completely.

"Goddess?!" she yelled.

"Jin hyung, why don't you bring the food, hm?" "Taehyung dragged him to the kitchen.

Yoongi appeared out of nowhere before he filled her glass with alcohol.

"She was supposed to sober up.." but then I realized that he wanted to save the situation before she asked any more questions.

"Jimin, why are you still standing there? Sit down, you're hungry." I nodded at Jungkook and sat down next to my beauty.

I observed every move she made, how she ran through her shiny hair, with the curly ends touching her back. How she licked her lips and the taste made her smile. How she still sat next to me even though she 'hated' us all.

"Hey, Diona," Jin said as he came back from the kitchen.

Oh, no, here we go.

"How do you describe Greek mythology in five words?"

Before he went any further, she already bit her lower lip so she wouldn't burst out laughing.

"Unfortunately, Zeus was feeling horny."

My heart fluttered like a fragment of heaven when I saw her smile. This woman had such perfect lips and snow-white teeth that she made it difficult for me to breathe.

"Yoongi, why aren't you laughing?!" she cried out in amusement while everyone was ashamed.

"I wish I was born as a stone and didn't have to hear this every day" said Yoongi in whispers.

"Yeah, well that'd be way better, because then maybe I would have overlooked you at some point and kicked you with my dirty sole or I would have seen you and thrown you away on purpose."

"Wow wow wow, guys. No offense. Not in this household!" We looked at Taehyung.

Annoyed, Jungkook got up and put food on every plate. But Diona's gaze was fixed on the fruit plates the whole time.

"Hungry for grapes?"

All her thoughts paused. Slowly, she turned her head to look at me. I grinned playfully, picking a delicious grape. I put my arm on the backrest behind her and waited for her to open her beautiful mouth.

"Seems familiar, huh?" ,I whispered and had to admit that being the reason for her nervousness gave me more pleasure than alcohol.

"I don't drink whiskey with grapes, sorry" she winked before showing me her back.

"I WiLL nOt! nEvErTheLeSs I aM sTiLl hUrT" ,I imitated her and she knew exactly where it came from.

She grabbed one of the lying knives on the table before she pressed the tip against my chest. "That's exactly why I came here, you jerk!"

The others stopped conversing.

"We'll talk after I've eaten, you just calm down until then" ,this time I winked before ignoring her.

"Suga," she just had to say and he already refilled her glass. "From now on, you're the only one I like around here."

"Hey! What about me?" ,Tae mumbled.

"Right. You haven't done anything to me either."

"I've known you the longest of all!" ,Jungkook showed me his conscious stare that made me grin, "How can you not like kookie monster?"

"Jungkook, I don't know why, but no matter what you do, I want to beat you every second."

"That's because I'm good at everything, sweety."

She pretended to throw up. "Sweety? You to me? Oh, please. Better go upstairs with Jimin and make out before you go on a live stream pretending that only one of you is there."

She handed me a towel while I was choking.

"Jin Hyung, go tell another joke quickly" ,Taehyung whispered loud enough.

"Why did God invent wine?"

Silence.

"So that Dionysus could never rule the world."

I raised my index finger and boom his water was no longer water. "Jimin," he growled at me as he gazed at his glass of wine now.

Diona was still laughing at his unfunny joke like a drunken Russian. We continued to eat in peace.

"I have a question!" Her eyes almost closed, "Where are J-Hope and RM?"

I stopped chewing. Just like everybody else.

"Aren't you only one when all seven of you are together?"

The boys all lowered their heads while my heart was aching. I pushed the chair back and stood up, pulling her up. "Come on."

"I'll make her some tea later", Jin told me as I thanked him with a nod and smile. Diona's body lost its strength as she fell into my arms.

"Why do you always have to smell so good?"

"Oh, do I? Tell me more."

She tripped over her own foot. "Not until you call me your beauty."

Did this woman even know how I tried to stop myself from kissing her right here and now?

"Tell me more, my beauty," I whispered against her temple as her skin almost touched my lips.

"Your scent reminds me of my homeland. There are so many fertile plains with plenty of delicious fruits. But your scent also resembles the freshness of a river there, the Pinios. Shit, why do you feel like home?"

We stopped in the hall.

"How come I only lasted a week without you, when I hate you so much? Every time I get drunk, my feet bring me here. I have so many questions, but I don't even know where to start, damn it."

Freeing herself from my grip, she headed for my room. I bit my lips as she went on with her impossibly hot body. Still in a frenzy, she ran up the stairs while I followed her closely.

"I never wanted to come here again" she said sadly as we stood in the room.

"But you listened to your heart." I put my arms around her delicate body as I absorbed her warmth. "I have missed you, beautiful lady."

She put her hand on my wrist. "I hate it when you call me that."

"You told me to call you that a moment ago."

"I lied then."

"You can't lie to me, I can read minds."

She giggled as her body vibrated under my touch. "Oh yeah? Then what am I thinking when you call me like that?"

I watched the stars and the moon, which brightened the room. "Am I really his beauty? Wow..."

"Do you smell that too?" she suddenly asked.

"What?" I sniffed like a dog.

"Your hope in the air?"

I rolled my eyes, letting her go. " That' it. Go beg Tae or Yoongi to call you by that name, okay?"

She watched me bury myself under my sheets before I closed my eyes.

"Um. hello-ooo? How could a god like Dionysus possibly get jealous?"

"Jimin?"

"Shh!"

" Are you sleeping?"

"Hey, I wanted to talk!"

"You can't dump me like this!"

I felt her hands over the bedding as she almost pricked my eye with a finger. "Where the hell is your face?"

Before she could uncover my face, I grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed her to the mattress.

"Here," I replied.

"I think I'm in love" ,she bit her lip.

I held my breath.

"With your bed. Man, it's so comfy."

And breathe out again.  " You're gonna regret everything you ever do and say to me someday, just wait."

"O great Dionysus, tell me what my punishment would be!" She wiggled with her thick brows.

This woman...

"Once you are caught in Dionysus' rush," I supported myself on my elbow, "there is no going back to reality."

"I haven't been in that one since long ago."

Her fingers were burning on my neck while I was trying to control myself.

"Ever since I saw that one picture of you."

[pasiphile]

“You’re staring at Mister Vimes, Reg.”

“Am I?” Reg asks, eyes fixed on Vimes’ back as he speaks to some new recruits.

“Yes Reg,” Nobby says. “You’re staring, Reg. Why’re you staring?”

“He… just reminds me of someone, sometimes. The Commander.”

***

He’s twenty-five and he’s standing on top of the barricades, flag in his hands and pure defiance in his voice.

He’s twenty-five and he should be dead, is dying, blood gushing from more wounds than he can count but he’s still crawling forwards, still fighting, propelled by nothing but willpower and conviction because he will. Not. Give. Up.

He’s twenty-five – but is he, still? – and fresh air washes over his face, not quite ridding him of the taste of mud and dirt still filling his mouth.

***

He joins the Watch sometime in summer, coppers giving him funny looks and cracking unfunny jokes about limbs falling off and parts not working properly, and the people, the differently-alive that used to be his friends whisper behind his back, words like traitor and selling out to the system, but when after his first weeks he singlehandedly – or single-armedly, seeing as how it was that limb that he threw after the miscreant and which hit him in the back of the head, knocking him out – when he catches his first criminal, Commander Vimes gives him a look, and a nod, and after that he’s Mister Vimes to Reg, and the funny looks die out a bit.

Even so, when his first twenty-fifth of May in the Watch rolls ‘round, he almost doesn’t wear the lilacs. He’s been wearing them consistently, without fail, for over twenty years, but this is the first time his fingers shake as he pins the flowers to his helmet.

People stare at him when he gets in that morning, both lilac-wearers and the younger, the more innocent coppers. Reg holds his head high – careful not to put too much stress on the stitches in his neck, just in case – and pretends not to see. In a way, he’s got more right than any of them to wear these, after all.

Vimes, too, wears the lilacs, pinned to his breastplate. Reg passes him in the hallway, not long after he comes in. Vimes, eyes downcast and face unreadable, absentmindedly glances at Reg when he passes, strolling on at his policeman’s pace. Then, he suddenly halts mid-step.

He turns back. He stares.

Reg braces himself.

“Ah,” Vimes says, eyes flicking between the lilacs on Reg’s helmet and his face. “Yes, you were there too, weren’t you? I remember now.”

Zombies have a good memory, but it’s still hard to connect the skinny pale terrified kid to the grizzled man he sees in front of him. Still…

“And I remember you, sir,” Reg says, with a small smile. “You fought bravely, that day.”

“Bravely?” Vimes huffs. “Recklessly, maybe. Stupidly. Although – well, yes, why not. Bravely.” He grins, a tiny bit too wide, too feral. “Not as bravely as you, though.”

Reg shrugs. “I was every bit as stupid, sir. Just a bit more loud about it.” He sighs, looks down. “You seem to be the only one who remembers me, though.”

“Oh, everyone remembers you, Reg,” Vimes says, with dark humour. 

Reg looks up. “Sir?”

“They might not remember the name, or the face,” Vimes says, “but everyone who survived that night remembers you.”

***

It’s hard, the first few years.

Zombies aren’t actively hunted, but they’re certainly not accepted with open arms either. The others shuffle and groan, clinging to tradition and misconceptions, and for a while Reg joins them in dull, insulting security.

But he died with revolution running through his veins and his veins may be empty now, but the fire never died, and not too long after he gives up on tradition and starts talking again, starts yelling, starts fighting back.

Not that it changes that much. He can’t do anything but small things, perhaps insignificant in the larger scope of things, small acts of defiance and protest, one tiny spark in the all-encompassing darkness.

And when the revolution comes round again, the way revolutions do… This one, he’s not allowed any part in.

***

They don’t come by in one large group to the graveyard. Instead, they trickle in one by one, each spending a few moments with the grave, before quietly leaving again. Reg, tending to his own resting place not too far away, keeps an eye on them, and only goes up when most of them have already visited and the place is empty.

He leans on his shovel and looks down at what little of the headstone he can see through the masses of flowers covering the grave. 

“How do they rise up,” he mutters, then smiles, wryly. “In my case, left hand first, straight through the final layer of dirt.”

“Or with the help of a flagpole.”

He whirls in surprise. Vimes has snuck up on him, quiet as a cat. He’s carrying his son in his arms, who makes a happy noise when he spots Reg.

Reg makes to leave, but Vimes shakes his head. He sets Young Sam down on the ground, where he promptly begins fiddling with the lilacs.

“It’s his birthday, today,” Vimes says, staring at the gravestone.

“I know, sir.”

“How the hell am I supposed to combine those two? How the hell can I wear a silly hat and eat cake and act like I’m happy when…”

“Oh, I don’t know, sir,” Reg says. “It’s not that sad, this day – it did go all right, in the end, didn’t?”

“Did it?” Vimes says gloomily.

“Well, I dare say we wouldn’t be here today without him. His courage and spirit. He lives on in all of us, really.” Reg side-eyes Vimes. “And maybe in some of us more than in others.”

For a while, there’s no sound but the wind rustling through the leaves and the soft humming of Young Sam as he picks apart the blossoms. 

“Zombies have good memories,” Reg says carefully.

“Is that so?” Vimes says, neutral and bland, honouring his nickname.

Which is an answer all of its own, of course.

***

He only goes to the graveyard when it’s far after midnight. They don’t like him near the grave, don’t like seeing him around on that day, don’t like what he represents, but that’s all right.

Well, no, it’s not all right, but there’s nothing he can do about it. John Keel’s grave is not the place for petty fights.

So he waits until it’s well into the night, when it’s already technically the twenty-sixth, and only then does he go to the grave, where he can sit and think in peace, for awhile.

But this time, there’s still someone there. Reg almost doesn’t see him, at first. He’s sitting against another grave, back leaning against the stone, bottle in his hand but eyes steady on Keel’s grave. Reg hesitates, then makes to leave.

“Nah, stay,” the man says, waving his bottle.

So he approaches. There’s a lantern next to the grave and the unsteady light illuminates the man’s face. Vimes, Keel’s protégé, the skinny kid that followed Keel on his heels – except he doesn’t look like a kid anymore.

“’m holding a vigil,” Vimes says. “Wouldn’t want old Keel to get lonely, would we? And it’s not like anyone else comes to visit, now.” He looks up at Reg. “Cept you.”

“You don’t mind me being here?” Reg asks, curious.

“Why would I? You died for it. With him.” He takes a deep drink from his bottle. “Reckon you’ve got more right than anyone to be here tonight.”

“The others don’t share your opinion,” Reg says.

“The others can go to hell,” Vimes says, and he looks up at Reg, the wavering Nightwatchmen’s lantern’s light dancing across his face, and his eyes are dark and serious and angry, and not even all the booze and the misery are enough to drown out the furious still-burning fire underlying it all and –

And Reg thinks, oh.

Zombies have good memories.

***

“You never talk about it,” Vimes says.

“Neither do you, sir,” Reg says pointedly.

Vimes gives him a joyless smile, then reaches behind his breastplate for a cigar. He lights it absentmindedly, eyes going between his son and the letters on the stone.

“It was still all for nothing, Reg,” Vimes says, after he’s taken his first puff. “We failed, didn’t we? And for years and years it was even worse than before. It’s Vetinari who made things right again, not Keel.”

“He may not have succeeded then, sir, but he showed us something. Inspired us.”

Vimes huffs.

“No, it’s true,” Reg protests “He gave me courage, you know. When things got… difficult, and it felt like it would be so much easier to just let go and give in than try to fight against something that seemed like it would never change – that’s when I remembered him. I remember him standing on the barricades, organising us. I remember the way the officers and the politicians were afraid of him. And I remember that even though it didn’t work in the end, we came damn close.”

“Hah. Did we?”

“I wouldn’t be here without him, sir,” Reg says. Then adds, quietly, “Without you.”

Another silence falls. They both look down at the grave, smothered with flowers and honour. Reg still vividly remembers the way it had looked only about five or ten years ago, when eventually it had just been him and Vimes, and Rosie and Nobby and Colon. The measly bouquet, the egg. Almost forgotten.

How do they rise up, indeed.

“You’re a good copper, Reg,” Vimes says. “An awful revolutionary, but a good copper. Tenacious as hell, and some damn good observational skills.”

“Thank you, sir,” Reg says modestly.

For a while, they just stand there together, shoulder by shoulder, the sun setting and the shadows behind the stones lengthening.

Then Young Sam starts to fuss. Vimes sighs and picks him up. The child turns in his father’s arms and looks down at the gravestone, pointing at it. “Da’!”

“That’s right, that’s your dad,” Reg says cheerfully.

Vimes gives him a dark look. “If you ever…”

“I wouldn’t, sir,” Reg says, calmly. “I’ve kept this secret this long, I’m not about to change that now.”

Vimes stares at him, dark eyes boring into Reg’s face. “How long – ” Then he shakes his head. “Nevermind. I don’t need to know.”

“Course, sir.”

Vimes sighs, deeply. “Night, Reg. See you tomorrow.”

“Night, Mister Vimes. Say hello to Lady Sybil from me.”

Vimes gives a lazy wave and heads out of the graveyard, the light glinting off his helmet.

Reg looks at Vimes, leaving the graveyard with his typical copper’s gait.

And he remembers. Remembers Young Sam, as he was, scared and a bit stupid but his anger already growing, the indignant fury at things not being right. And he remembers the other Sam Vimes, the one with the eye patch and the scar and the lined face, the one who came from somewhere else, somewhere not too far away, somewhere where you could fight against the evil bastards in power and win.

Zombies have good memories. And Reg had always been good at recognising faces.

Whistling under his breath, he casts one more look at the empty grave, then walks off towards the setting sun, following in Vimes’ footsteps.

[thebarbarianbarber-blog]

@davekatweek​ Day 6: Fluff Day!

You and Dave are camping by the lake and you really want to see a meteor shower. But first you gotta wake Strider up.

(for anyone interested: the actual peak of Perseids’ shower is tomorrow - 8/12)

(also i apologize in advance for any linguistic mistakes in this, i’m not a native english speaker)

Make a wish

You crawled into the tent and immediately spotted his messy white hair which were sticking out of the sleeping bag along with his head.

- Dave! - you whispered while shaking his shoulder. - Dave, wake up!

- Sod off, Kankri… I’m done with your shit…

You rolled your eyes. Is your voice really that similar to your brother’s screeching?

- Come on, sleepyhead. Are you wearing your shades? Fucking hell.

- How many times... do i have to tell you… that quick talking… is not rapping... fuck, man, get a life...bla bla bla, i can’t hear you… - Dave muttered.

You gave up on whispering, found his ear and said his name out loud right into it, using all your power of will not to shout. Strider slowly turned around to face you, clearly not satisfied with this turn of events.

- It’s not morning yet. - he growled.

- No shit, Sherlock. Now move your ass, please, and come with me. - you said softly.

- Oh fuck no. I forgot it’s your stupid star party.

- If that’s what you want to call it, yes, it’s my stupid star party and you’re invited. Even though they’re fucking meteors.

- The stars are fucking meteors? - he asked with a snort.

- Well, yes- I mean- No. Goddamnit. That was so unfunny. The opposite of funny, even. - you decided, smirking. - Now get up. We’re going to watch the Perseids.

- Yeah, sure. - he yawned. - Why now?

- Now is the best moment. As you already know, tonight is the peak of the meteor shower which lasted for almost a month already. But the biggest number of them is expected to be seeable in the second half of the night and in the early morning. I certainly don’t want to miss it so I’ve decided now is the right time to wake you up. I want to witness it with you. - you said the last sentence a little more quietly than the rest.

- Wow, thanks. Now I have to get up or else I’ll be an asshole. - he complained.

- Too late. You’re already an asshole, asshole.

Despite the darkness, you noticed he was grinning while getting out of his sleeping bag. You grabbed some apple juice and started to look for orange soda (Dave had chosen the drinks, obviously).

- What? Have you already drunk all of it? - you asked with surprise, showing him three empty bottles, once filled with unhealthy beverage. He examined them and muttered:

- Fuck you too, Dirk.

You sighed and threw the garbage into the bin outside. You were running on apple juice from now.

Dave followed you to the lake. There you sat on a blanket Strider brought with him and enjoyed the landscape before your eyes. The sky above a city full of lights was an image you both learnt to treat as a constant and accept. The sky that night, however, was so much different. It seemed almost alien with its stars, those natural light bulbs, all shiny and majestic, forming constellations that showed themselves only to those far away from urban districts, that sparkling chaos against a background painted with indigo, sapphire and navy blue. Said picture was doubled, one might say, by a reflection in the lake, perfectly mirroring the original. It would be difficult to tell them apart if not for tiny waves ruffling the surface of the water. The forest surrounding the area was filled with a calming silence, though a lonely owl could be heard hooting now and then.

Your tent was the only one around and you haven’t seen anyone so far. This fact made you happy as you dedicated this trip to Dave, even though you were the one excited to see the meteor shower. Nonetheless, you had all this place and all this time for yourselves. You have been looking forward to it for so long.

- Well, how do you like it? - you asked your boyfriend quietly in order not to disturb the peace of the forest.

- It’s dark around here, not gonna lie. I almost feel like I’m one with nature. Like, you could see me on the street and be like “Why hello, nature. How have you been, bro?” And then you’d be like “Oh snap, it’s just you Dave! I thought you were nature.” And I’d say “Yeah, that’s ‘cos we are basically the same person.” That’s pretty much how tight I’m with nature right now. They seem cool.

- Okay, enough of this bullshit.

You took off his shades because, of fucking course, he had them on all this time.

- How about now? How would you describe your relationship with nature?

He looked around in amazement. You could swear his eyes were getting more and more beautiful with every time you saw them.

- It’s just so… - he started. - It’s wonderful.

You smiled.

- I told you it’s not the same in the city.

- And you were damn right.

He gave you a warm gaze and you suddenly felt so lucky.

- Thanks for showing me this place, Karkat.

Love for him that filled you seemed too big for your body.

- Oh, i forgot to tell you. Newsflash. - he paused, for dramatic effect as you suspected. - Rose called me when I was driving and you were sleeping like dead. That scared me a bit, too be honest. Don’t do that again, man.

- Alright, alright, what did Rose say? - you had a feeling it was important. He seemed concerned which was rare in his case.

He hesitated.

- Oh boy. Imma tell you. Flat-out. Straight to the point.

- God, just tell me already!

- Here I go. - he ran his hand through his hair. - Rose and Kanaya want to adopt a baby.

You gasped. Dave was looking a little nervous.

- That’s… Fucking awesome! - you said.

- They went to an orphanage and all that shit. Things are serious. I mean, it takes a hella lot of time to finally get this fucking child and it’s a huge deal apparently. But, yeah. We’re gonna be uncles, dude.

- We’re gonna be uncles. - you repeated.

- Yup. Guess who’s gonna be the cooler one.

- We’re gonna be uncles.

- That’s right. D-Strides over here.

- We’re gonna be fucking uncles, Dave! - you put your hands on his shoulders.- I have to call them.

- Are you nuts? What is it, 3 AM? Chill, you’ll talk about poop and diapers and the psychological drama you and my sister are crazy about but all of this tomorrow, m’kay?

- I guess you’re right.

You looked at the sky feeling a weird mix of excitement and fear. You definitely haven’t seen this coming. Even though you knew it was just the beginning of the adoption process, you still regarded the news as a huge change.

And then you saw it. It was a second, maybe less, but you saw it. A shooting star drawing a bright line on the sky’s canvas and then fading away. Without thinking, you made a wish out loud:

- I wish for a good child for Rose and Kanaya. I wish they wouldn’t wait long for that baby. I wish they would be the best mothers in the world. And I wish we would be the best uncles ever. I wish that kid would receive love and acceptance from everyone around them. I wish they would have a great childhood.

You stopped talking as you decided it was enough. You didn’t consider yourself superstitious but… Fuck, you just wanted them to be happy.

Strider was staring at you, half-smiling.

- That was cute.

You looked away.

- So… What about us? - he asked shamelessly.

Your cheeks were burning. Thank God it was dark.

- What do you mean? - you wondered, knowing exactly what he meant.

- Do you wanna raise a lil’ brat with me? Or a bunch of them. They’d be all over the place yelling and shitting themselves… But I could teach them how to drop it like it’s hot and you could feed them doritos or whatever a bambino eats. Would you like to get in this shithole with me? Like, in the future. Duh.

He was ridiculous.

- You are ridiculous. - you said, chuckling. - I’m pretty sure you are aware that babies don’t eat fucking doritos.

- You’re missing the point, bro.

You were, indeed, missing the point. That’s because you had no idea what to say. You imagined having a kid with Dave. He would be a good father. Full of energy, funny and more caring than he appeared to be. You, on the other hand… You could easily lose control. And you would never forgive yourself if you hurt a child. Your hypothetical child.

- I… I’m really not sure, Dave. - you answered quietly.

- That’s okay. We have tons of time, right?

- We have some, yes.

He was studying your facial expressions for a moment before he said:

- I know what you’re thinking. And I bet you would be the best fucking dad that could ever exist.

You widened your eyes in shock.

- And now you’re thinking something like “how the fuck did he know that?”.

You nodded.

- Surprise! I was a damn psychic this entire time!

- No, you weren’t, shithead. You just know me well, I guess.

- Yeah. And that’s why I know you would kick ass as a father. I mean, you would be so awesome. Not like literally kick ass, that would be terrible.

- I get it. Stop embarrASSing yourself.

He laughed, like a dumbASS he was.

- Just don’t sweat it, alright? - he said, smirking.

- I’ll try. - you promised with a sigh. - I’m gonna get some juice.

- I miss you already. - he whispered when you got up, making you smile.

You went to the tent, grabbed two bottles of the drink and came back. Dave was staring at the sky with his mouth open.

- You missed it! - he exclaimed, facing you. - You fucking missed a star, man!

- No, really? - you asked, disappointed, forgetting to remind him that it was a meteor.

- Hell yeah! It was so bright and bigger than the first one! It just… Pchooooo! Through the whole fucking sky like it was nothing! - he was gesticulating (aka throwing his arms in all directions) trying to show you the trajectory of the Perseid. -  And it was so fucking glorious! What the fuck? Why did you have to go bring this fucking juice?!

Before you could say anything, he pulled you by the arm, forcing you to sit down.

- From now on, no running away. You stay put and watch this motherfucking star bath with me.

- It’s a meteor shower, actually-

- Who the fuck cares what it’s called? It looks awesome. Why didn’t you tell me there was a fucking star wars battle scheduled for today?

- I told you a million fucking times: let’s go and watch it! It looks cool! You never fucking listened!

- Yeah, not enough fucking times, then. Also you sounded fucking boring, no offence.

You rubbed your temples.

- Now that you’ve seen a bit of it, i suppose you don’t find it boring anymore, do you, Dave? - you asked after calming your nerves a little.

- Of course not. Meteors fucking rule.

He wrapped his arm around you and suddenly all your negative emotions decided to go and fuck themselves. Everything seemed to be perfectly fine and it was because he loved you and you fucking loved him back.

- Well? - you asked softly.

- Huh?

- What did you wish for?

- Yeah, like I’m going to tell you.

- And why wouldn’t you? - you asked, raising your eyebrows.

- What if when I tell you it won’t come true?

- Hey! I said my wish out loud. - you reminded him.

He didn’t respond.

- Oh come on. I know you don’t believe in all that shit. Just tell me.

A sinister grin appeared on Strider’s face.

- Make me.

You decided you want to play his little game. You kissed his lips gently and then, without further ado, put your tongue into his mouth. He sighed. You placed your hands on his waist and looked into his incredible cherry-red eyes. He broke the kiss and hugged you before leaving busses on your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your neck. You pushed him lightly so that both of you were lying down on your sides. He embraced you tightly and began caressing your back. You ran your hand through his shiny white hair.

You loved the touch of his body, the warmth it was giving to yours and the warmth you were feeling inside. Every time you were kissing, hugging, touching, it felt like it wasn’t enough. Before you met him, you thought that making out would bore you. Seriously, for how long could people do that? The same things over and over again, what’s the deal? Oh boy, were you wrong. You wanted this to last as long as it could and when you weren’t seeing each other for a long time - when you were both studying for finals, for example - you longed for him, for all the little talks you had, for his eyes, his whole body and for this unique feeling, uncomparable to anything you’ve ever felt before.

If you were to put it into words, you’d say you felt complete.

You almost forgot!

You sat up and gave him a significant look.

- Oh right, the wish. - he whispered, flushed and cute. - I’ll tell ya, promise, just let’s cuddle a lil’ more, ok?

You rolled your eyes and smiled. He was so convincing. You returned to your previous position, looking at his face with curiosity.

- Okay, so… I wished for a hella good future for us.

- Yeah?

You couldn’t help but smile and he scratched his head nervously,

- I just wanted us, this, to last as long as possible. - he went on. - And that it would be all cool between us. Just. Camping and drinking together and showing you my dope raps and hating on dumb movies and… The rest, you know.

He chuckled awkwardly. He was acting like such a dork while talking about your relationship and it was making your heart melt.

- When I saw this star… I mean meteor… I thought, hey, why not keep it like this. With you. You’re the shit, man. I mean. I like you. Really. - he hesitated for a second. - I love you.

Dave fucking Strider was lying next to you, his facial expression resembling the one of a naughty puppy that has just broken the most expensive vase in your house. Fucking Dave Strider who has just confessed his love for you. Dave Strider (fuck), the most charming, intelligent, handsome and sensitive human being you have ever met.

You would never pay him a compliment using all those superlatives at once, of course. His ego was big enough in your opinion.

And there he was. The love of your life and your best friend in one person.

- I love you too. - you said shakily after who knows how long.

He smiled and you would smile at that moment too if you weren’t already smiling this whole time.

- I wish it would stay that way, bro.

That was it. You just had to hug him with all your might. You laid your head on his shoulder and felt warm streams on your cheeks. Fuck. Why did you have to be like this? Crying like a baby while hugging your boyfriend. You couldn’t stop. Your tears were soaking in Dave’s T-shirt and all you could think about was the fact that they were tears of joy. You cried, filled not with sadness, but with joy for the first time in your life. For the first time you had a reason to cry that way.

After a few minutes you calmed yourself down, still embracing Dave. He said nothing, though kept on patting your head and back, kissing your neck and ear and hugging you as tightly as you were hugging him.

All of a sudden, he stiffened and then said:

- Yo, check this out!

You sat up and turned skywards.

They were everywhere. Tens of meteors falling down at once, right before your eyes. Flashing lines drawn from different angles, varying in sizes and brightness but all equally marvelous. You were afraid to blink in order not to miss any of them. The Perseids appeared for a second, maybe two and then faded into nothingness. It would be impossible to dedicate a wish to each and every one. You didn’t have the ability to count them, either. All you could do was watch this performance of light and darkness, dynamics and steadiness until it was over.

And when it finally was, you were staring at a sky that suddenly felt so empty.

Neither of you said anything for quite a long time as you were both amazed by what you saw. When you looked at Dave, you noticed his eyes, as well as his mouth, were opened wide. He faced you and blinked. You were no less thrilled than him.

- That was beautiful. - you mouthed.

- You are beautiful. - he responded, flirtatious bastard.

You snorted and kissed him on the cheek. He yawned. You patted your thighs and he laid his head on them. You played with his hair for a while and continued to observe the sky.

After that great number of meteors you saw, you were excited and not sleepy at all. You were hoping to see another one or two.

Eventually you saw a shooting star (at that moment you realised that this term was incorrect) and looked at Dave, wanting to tell him. However, you saw his eyes were closed and heard him breathing slower than usual. Goddamn sleepyhead.

You, just like Dave, wished it would stay that way.

You also came to a conclusion that watching him sleep is like watching a meteor shower for millions of hours. Or even more beautiful.