Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win
Apr 14
An open letter of advice to those of you living with roommates: if, say, you have one roommate who usually does the dishes, that’s fine. However, if you can no longer physically FIT dishes in the sink, it’s maybe time to act outside your habitual role and wash that bad boy your own self. If, hypothetically, the dish-doing roommate is attempting to finish a thesis and has therefore not eaten a meal that wasn’t takeout or microwaved in a few days, maybe you could really live life on the edge and do more than one dish yourself.
Just a thought.
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*bangs head repeatedly against desk*
SO. GODDAMN. CLOSE.
AND YET.
NOTHING.
sparkly-courf asked: Heey!! ✨ Do you have any headcanons for Bahorel, Grantaire and Joly friendship?
Whenever I think about the three of them, I think about that scene in the brick in which Joly and Bahorel talk about Musichetta and Bahorel is all like: “If you want to seduce her real good, you’ll need new pants” and Grantaire barges in like “HOW MUCH????”
So I give you: Makeover Bahorel.
To be fair, Joly’s style really suits him. He’s all printed shirts and suspenders that don’t actually suspend anything, cool glasses, always some cat prints for some reason, probably to make up for the fact that he’s allergic
Grantaire on the other hand…
He’s in dire need of shirts that don’t have holes in them and don’t carry the pungent smell of paint. He also needs socks. BADLY. Bahorel hopes he can find clothes that will compliment those biceps of his, because dang boy, you should offer free tickets to the gun show more often
Joly is quickly sorted out. Bahorel finds him some skinny jeans that will, apparently, “compliment his lil butt”.
Grantaire is more complicated. He’s all self-deprecating comments and doesn’t think anything looks good on him. That’s not his colour. Neither is this one. Nor this one
In the end, Baz gets him to buy several flannel shirts, a couple of skinny jeans, undershirts and the like
Joly gets complimented all over during the next ABC meeting and twirls happily to show his new acquisitions off
Grantaire arrived with rolled up sleeves and skinny jeans and Enjolras unconsciously snaps a pen into two.
our ability to belt out one entire three to five minute long song if we’re familiar with it like. suvi starts singing “hallelujah” to fill the quiet and is answered by liam all across the room in a p decent harmony. cora walks past and starts humming it enthusiastically even tho she can’t stay very long. gil joins in for the third refrain. ryder finishes it off with a passionate solo.
when they look around every alien is staring at them. vetra blinks and knocks her hands together. “that’s what you’re supposed to do when humans make those sounds right?” she asks kallo beside her, who mirrors her. everyone is a little stunned at the coordination and emotion in the performance and they all look equally moved. jaal might be crying. none of them know what a ‘hallelujah’ is, but they feel like they’ve come to understand it through this melody
they’re all extremely confused when all of the humans still continue on on their tasks without pause
edit; other songs include but are not limited to: bohemian rhapsody, mr. brightside, single ladies, no scrubs, and i will always love you
a good predictor of whether a species will end up being compatible with humans on long journeys is whether they are capable of understanding that ‘singing along’ is optional and humans do it because it’s fun. species that insist on assigning some biological or ceremonial importance to it will inevitably clash with their human crews sooner or later.
whereas species like the mertrans, who have their own infectious expressive behaviors, can integrate with humans indefinitely. on long-haul ships, a sort of hybrid culture evolves, where mertrans will thrum their throat sacs to provide percussion for human singalongs, and humans develop dance steps for mertran scratch/thumping episodes.
smart pirates avoid attacking ships where this has happened. despite being clownish, these species are also some of the most warlike, and offering violence to a closeknit mertran/human group provokes a reaction that is not only well-coordinated and heroic but prone to very bloody pranks.
there still are parts of the outer reaches where a mertran hand-signing “yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker” can clear a bar in seconds.
We’re all calling him chaotic good but…Isn’t it lawful good what they’re doing? I mean, it’s messed up that this is reality, but they ARE following the rules to a T.
2017, when cards against humanity is lawful good but the president is chaotic evil
Humans are the only intelligent species in the universe to have evolved from predators. Every other sentient species has evolved from a prey species… and so they are terrified of us. Now it’s up to you to persuade the Galactic Council that we won’t hunt them down and eat them all.
“We won’t eat you,” I shrugged. “Most of us would find the idea of eating a sapient being repulsive - it would be like eating another human.”
The gathering murmured. The herbivores were big, to be honest. A lot of them were easily elephant-sized, with a few even bigger. It had been jarring, at first, being one of the smallest known species. I guess we’d always expected ‘little green men’, small aliens with big eyes, looking a lot like us.
But no, they were big. Intimidatingly so. And we’d just told them not to be afraid of us. I looked over to some of my team, a few of whom wore expressions like they’d just realised it. Some of the aliens, too, were giving us a fresh appraisal. Instead of wide and fearful eyes, they were now narrowed in thought.
One of them leant against the wall, arms crossed. There was something buffalo-like about him, with a set of horns curving out of his head, and a rather bovine nose. A little like a minotaur, really. The Tellors had a problem with water shortages, we’d heard. Another, someone reptilian with nictating membranes and a nervous, flicking tongue whispered to her cohorts, her eyes darting between us all. The Fiarans were apparently running out of arable land.
I let my mouth pull up at the corners.
Now, there’s a funny thing about most beings, sapient or otherwise. Showing off your teeth is a general sign for ‘look what I have and might very well use’. Humans have always been weird about that, so it’s been normally something all of us in the diplomatic sector have to worry about when smiling.
Normally.
I cleared my throat, and the Council turned back to me.
“We want to be friends, really,” and the tone of my voice caused my team to spin around and stare at me. “And we have high hopes for what we could achieve together in an alliance.”
I paused, making eye contact with the Tellor and Fiaran especially.
“We won’t eat you,” I said. “But we didn’t eat our predators, either.”
The crowd began to mutter again. The Tellor snorted, making his way to the front.
“I have studied humans - you are the apex predators of your planet. Please explain.”
I looked up at him. “Oh yes, we are now.”
He tilted his head, and then took a step back as the meaning hit him. Or at least the meaning I meant to give - I wasn’t exactly about to spew lion attack statistics or explain the concept of zoos to him.
fun fact about the next avengers film being filmed in edinburgh: they’ve blocked off certain areas which is disrupting one specific postal van’s delivery route which is in turn leading to an awkward stand-off at the police station because Marvel Studios might be a billion dollar company but this man really wants to do his job and apparently interfering with the course of the Royal Mail technically counts as treason so they’re at a stalemate
