Huge fan of when my speech patterns rub off on people enjoy when thay happens

NEVERMIND MY GRANDMA JUST SAID SKILL ISSUE

you grow a beautiful tree and then balk at its fruits?

porg life

this is so real

So one thing I don't get is why people on here don't seem to understand tram ways. Like you can cross a tram way, it's very easy, it's at grade, just walk across. It's not illegal. If they built a tram down a major street, you could still cross the street.

Like this is the Damrak in Amsterdam and people cross the tram tracks all the time, its not dangerous of you look before cross, trams are relatively slow and don't come out of no where

The trams even have a little bell to warn you if you are doing what Americans call "jaywalking" and we call crossing the street. They have the right of way, even over bikes. It's fine, I promise.

Black Bengal cats exist im crying! x

hold kitten gentle like submachine gun

My rescue cat allows me to help him groom

(Source)

Have a nice week everyone 🐈‍⬛🖤

ⓘ A sewing machine is a device that provides a several-fold increase of the speed at which you can make mistakes

Who wants some sleepy domestic Emhyr/Geralt?

Got a kind of bewildering ask yesterday that I won't bother answering directly as it didn't seem particularly relevant to me, but it did remind me how much I enjoyed writing Witcher fic, and that I still have some bits of Emhyr/Geralt(/Eskel) fic I was working on that I've never shared, and I am in a sharing mood today!

This is from what would have been Urbe Aureā #5, in which Emhyr begins his courtship of Eskel by offering him any witcher's favorite thing: a job in Toussaint. Geralt, naturally, goes along with him, and then they come home to the palace in Nilfgaard, mostly unscathed...

Geralt knew just what to do this time, returning to Nilfgaard in the middle of the night. He parted from Eskel with a mumbled agreement to meet again in the morning, shed his weapons and everything else he could without scandalizing any servants he met, and went directly to Emhyr's rooms. 

He reached up to run a hand over the stubble that was all the hair left on the lower part of his head now. It was two days' growth, because that was how long it had taken him, Eskel, and occasionally Lambert, to deal with every other little problem someone had brought to their attention after the wraiths were dealt with.  

He hadn't been dawdling this time--not like the days he'd spent in Tretogor chasing down stray bandits and necrophages. He just... couldn't go off and leave the place knowing there was a problem with giant centipedes popping out of somebody's vineyard, and a nasty ghost haunting somebody else's well--and then he'd had to make a few patrols to check for signs of any vampires who'd started making nuisances of themselves since he left. Those always turned up again when there had been a lot of them in one place, like seeds germinated by a forest fire. 

But now, at last, he was done and back again. He and Eskel had availed themselves of the baths B.-B. had had waiting for them after they got back from sorting out those fleders, and then they'd agreed with barely a word to head back through the portal. They'd left Lambert asleep under his workbench, knowing well that he'd be happier to bitch about them leaving without a goodbye than to actually suffer through any parting scene. 

And, after all, he knew exactly where to find them if he wanted them. 

Geralt let himself into Emhyr's rooms and hesitated, listening out for a moment, but Emhyr didn't rush out to meet him as he had that time before. Maybe he'd slept a little easier, knowing Geralt had left on Emhyr's own errand, and with backup to boot. Maybe he just didn't expect Geralt to have returned after only a few days. 

OH YEEEAH!

My grandfather and my godfather (a beloved neighbor and dear family friend) had a long standing bet- for one dollar- about who would die first. Both of them being slightly pessimistic (in the funny way), they both insisted that they themselves would be the first to die. Any time my grandfather had a health scare, he’d gleefully call up my godfather to boast that he’d be passing “any day now” and he was sure to win the bet. It was a big family joke and they were always amiably sparring and comparing notes about who was in worse shape, medically speaking.

When my grandfather was in hospice care dying of liver cancer, my godfather was quite ill also. It took him great effort to make the journey to see his dying friend. As he came into the room, supported by a family member, he shuffled to my grandpa’s bedside and silently handed him a dollar bill. He was ceding his loss of the bet, as they both knew who was going first. My grandpa had been in quite bad shape for a while and was no longer able to speak but let me tell you he snatched that dollar with unexpected strength and literally laughed aloud. He knew exactly what the gesture meant and he couldn’t help but find the humor within the grief. It was the last time any of us heard my grandpa laugh, as he passed shortly after.

When I talk about my appreciation for “dark humor” I’m not so much thinking about edgy jokes, but rather the human instinct to somehow, impossibly, both find and appreciate the absurdity that is so often folded into the profound grief of life and death. When I tell this story I think it kind of perturbs people sometimes, but it’s honestly one of my favorite memories about two men I really deeply admired. I could never hope for anything more than for my loved ones to remember me laughing until the very end, and taking joy in a little joke as one of my final acts.

it used to be 2007 you know

All the adults should put in the tags how old they were in 2007

Can she kickflip