#I'm selling you my time here. You don't *own* it. I do my job without complaint. I'm a good solid worker drone. Just give me the shift here

[caterpillarinacave]

nothing like a corporate american retail job to crush your soul like a grape

[inbabylontheywept]

the fine and subtle art of arguing with old men

it was a good week for testing which meant it was a slow week for me. most of my job is fixing the machine when it goes down. if it doesn't go down, i don't have much to do. 

fortunately neither did marc. in a site full of ornery old bastards, he's the oldest and the orneriest, so it goes without saying that i enjoy spending time with him. he reminds me of my grandpa. hell, he reminds me of a lot of people. i've befriended enough grumpy old men that i've got a sort of momentum to it now - you know how it is, when you meet someone that reminds you of someone else you really like. you get to start that friendship off half built, because you already have an idea of how to like that guy, and some of that old warmth can be brought to the new friendship. a little ember to start the stove up with.

(i think that's one of the really undersold beauties of getting older. you stop viewing people as strangers and more like remixes of friends.)

anyway, i was sitting next to marc and we were talking about the future. i've got my eye on having kids sometime soon (year or two? hopefully?), and he's very happy for me. i've tried asking him for advice, but all he says is that he didn't do a great job with his own kids and they still turned out okay, so i should stress less and trust myself more. i hope he's right. he believes it, at least, and it's a hell of a thing to have the faith of an old man. his faith is hard won.

as for his plans, he's retiring at some point in the next six months, and is hoping to sell his home and buy something in florida. he's republican, so he views the state as paradise, and i'm not inclined to even try talking him out of it. it's his dream, you know? i know for a fact my paradise would be a lot of people's hell. life's funny like that.

still, we kept going on, and it was a good time, and then he reminisced about the last time he got close to quitting - back around 2020. our job required getting vaxxed, and he refused, and there was a big kerfuffle about it before the job actually backed down. i know there's not a lot of sympathy for the unvaxxed out here, but the man's 62. you get the shot when you're under 30 to protect the people around you, but when you're over 60, you're just getting it to protect yourself and it's hard to be mad at someone for kicking their own ass. 

still gave me pause though. i knew he wasn't going to take it well, but half the job of collecting curmudgeons is keeping them around, so i said 

hey. i'm sorry they bent your arm over it, but.

but. 

you should really get that shot. 

and he looked over at me, and i looked at him, and he actually spat. not on me, just the concrete, but it was enough to show that he was mad. then he walked away, as abrupt as anything.

i felt bad about it. i wasn't sure what i'd expected, when he was willing to lose his job over it before, but i'd been so invested in his dream of retirement - the idea of him sipping margaritias on a beach next to his wife, the wife he calls every day during lunch, the wife he says is the one thing in life he ever got right on the first try. the wife that almost divorced him back when he was in the airforce because he just wasn't home enough. 

(but he can be home now.) 

and then he mentioned the vax thing, and it was like seeing a pin hit a balloon. he works out every day and takes all sorts of crazy vitamins and is generally committed to getting the most out of his pension and his life. i didn't want this dumb weak point to be his achilles heel. 

---

i wasn't actually sure how long marc would be mad at me. i've seen him stay mad at some people for weeks. i wasn't sure if being friends would make that time go up or down. 

it went down. i'm glad it went down. 

he stopped being mad about two days later. we were doing front end maintenance one morning, and it was just that simple mechanical rhythm - hex key, replace the anode sheets, punch some off-gassing holes, oil it up, put it back in - that put things at ease. it always does. people working there are too busy to remember grudges, and it has this sort of mandatory practical communication that helps smooth things over. it was going great, and then out of the blue he said babs, you gotta be careful giving advice. those shots come with complications. what would you do if i got that shot, had a stroke, and died? 

and i don't know what answer he was expecting, but i just told him the truth, which is that i would be devastated. i'd feel like i killed him. i thought that was a pretty normal response, but he looked taken aback. he asked why i said it then, and i said i'd have felt the same if he died of covid. that's just life. sometimes, there's no way forward that doesn't risk some kind of regret. 

we finished the tube after that, in a silence that felt heavier than peace but lighter than anger. it felt like the ball was back in marc's court. like it would be rude to take that turn from him. 

we parted ways with a nod and didn't speak until the next day. 

---

i was doing spreadsheet work when he found me again. standard paper engineering - thinking of things we might need and ordering them in batches, months ahead of time. it always feels a little like plugging holes in a dam with my fingers. 

but he popped up, and we didn't even exchange pleasantries. he just said i'm gonna die one day, and you can't blame yourself for that. 

which is a hell of a thing to just tell someone right off the bat. 

so i said what 

and he said babs, i am in my 60s. something is gonna get me eventually, and whether it's covid or heart disease, or a stroke, there will be something you could have said or done before. and that's okay. it's not your job to make me live forever. 

and you know, he actually made a lot of sense. so i said 

okay. 

i'll keep your business yours. i just

you were talking about your retirement before this. and i want that for you very much. you've worked hard for 45 years, and you deserve a break. we're getting to sick season, and it would be the saddest fucking thing in the world if you got this close to winning the race then tripped in the last ten feet. 

and we sat there a few moments longer. i wasn't sure what to say, and i wasn't sure what he'd say, but eventually he just shrugged and said

yeah 

then he left. i figured that would be the end of it. 

---

i did front end maintenance yesterday, after being gone a week. it's one of my favorite things to do. i like working with my hands. i really like working with my hands. i'm glad i went to college, but in a different life, i think i could've made a better electrician than an electrical engineer. 

and at one step, when we were both hoisting the plate back onto the machine, his sleeve rode up, and i saw two bandaids on his arm. 

we finished the install, and i was ready to go back when marc actually stopped me. 

i got the shot, he said, almost embarrassed. like he'd been caught. and i knew he was gonna say something dumb about it, so i just cut him off by giving him a hug. 

i was relieved. hugging old men is kind of like picking up cats. if they like you a lot, they'll tolerate it, but that's about it. we sat there maybe three beats before his hands went up, and then he gave me one overly-hard thump on the back. in my experience, this is how old men tell you that they're done, so i let him go.

carla talked me into it, he said, almost defensive. his wife. his one good decision.

tell her i said thanks, i said back.

trump got the shot too, he said, less defensive, but oddly pleading. like he was consoling himself.

like he was nervous.

then it's gotta be safe, i said, and he looked up at me, strangely searching, strangely vulnerable. i don't know exactly what he was looking for, but i guess he found it because after a few moments his shoulders relaxed.

yeah, he said, one hand on the back of his head.

it's gotta be.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Not to be a downer, but I actually finished my novel and now I’m confused because I don’t want to publish it. I don’t even particularly want anyone other than maybe my two close friends to even read it. What on Earth did I write 40k words (which I know is not really long enough for a novel, but it’s still far and away the longest thing I’ve ever written) for? I know people say “write for yourself” but like… am I just wasting my time? Help?

(p.s. you can leave this off anon)

(p.p.s your blog is really great 👍)

There's No Such Thing as Wasted Writing

I'm going to tackle this two ways...

#1 - "Write For Yourself" - there's a reason this common phrase has echoed through the Hall of Writers since time immemorial. It's because it's true! Writing doesn't have to be anything more than a pastime. It doesn't have to be anything more than something you do for your own benefit and enjoyment.

I have an in-joke with family members about how any time one of us does something the least bit crafty, DIY, skilled, whatever, a particular family member will always say, "You did a great job! You should do it for a living!" Like, someone can't even crochet a Kawaii mushroom without being pressured to turn it into an Etsy dynasty, or paint a cabinet without being pressured to become the next Property Brothers. And that's such a BANANAS capitalistic mindset, isn't it? This idea that nothing can be done purely for our own enjoyment. That you can't just write a novel because you want to... you can only write it if you plan to share it or publish it? It's just so silly.

And, the thing is, we don't even apply that mentality to a lot of other things people do purely for enjoyment. No one is streaming all of Bridgerton in two nights and saying, "I enjoyed every second of that, but why did I do that? Such a waste of time!" No one spends an hour strumming their guitar under the stars on a beach, and then says, "That was so relaxing and fun, but I didn't charge for that performance and I didn't record it to sell it, so that was obviously a waste of time."

You know what I mean?

#2 - And Anyway, Practice Makes Perfect - And if you keep writing--even if you continue not to share or publish--you'll get better and better with each story you write. Which, maybe all that means is you get to appreciate your own improvement, but also, should you ever change your mind and decide to write something to share or publish, you've now spent time honing your skills. Even if those other stories never see the light of day, they're still an important foundation of the writer you become. Do you know how many unpublished novellas, novels, and short stories I have? Too many to count. Hundreds of fan-fiction and original fiction short stories I've only shared with one or two other people, if anyone. A dozen or so novels and novellas that have only been read by a few people, and some haven't been read by anyone else or have only been read by my CPs. I would never consider those stories and novels and novellas to be a waste of time, because I know every single one made me a better writer. My published work is better because I wrote those other things.

So, I hope that makes you feel better. At the very least you hopefully enjoyed writing your novel--or at least got something out of it--and you definitely honed your writing skills, which matters! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[meowhara]

Mafia!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader

tw : abuse, mistreatment, usage of bad languages, death, kidnapping

synopsis : In a world where hybrids are becoming a common thing. Scientists sells their experiments for a very high price in auctions, making it possible for anyone with such kind of money to own a hybrid or even more

author's note : OMG! this will be my very first fanfic ever. I hope y'all enjoy this little fanfic I made in such a very short time. I'm so so sorry if there's anything wrong with my grammars or maybe you got confused by how I write things in general. English isn't my first language :)

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓮, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓸, 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

Experimenting with human beings are normal by now all around the world, making hybrids one of the most expensive and valuable assets. They're usually sold with a very high price in auctions, anyone who's able to lay a hand on those hybrids must be some very crazy rich and lucky people.

You're those kind of fine breed, sold for an unbelievably high price. But sadly luck wasn't on your side due to how irresponsible your new owner is. He never took care of you like how people should took care of hybrids. He abandoned you, feeding you poorly, using you only for your small and fragile body. Treating you like an animal and make you do his daily chores such as cooking, cleaning, and even doing his laundry. But you never complain, there's nothing you can do and nowhere to escape.

You don't even know how the hell he was able to purchase you from the auction since he doesn't even look like a wealthy man at all. Who's job is only to sell and purchase drugs from here and there then spend shit ton of money for women and other useless things. He woke up late at the day just to hurt you then leave and came back late at night. Sometimes he didn't even bother to come back home, leaving you hungry and lonely inside his small and packed house in the middle of nowhere.

For the past moths he has been stealing drugs from Mafia!Miguel. Miguel tried to track him down for months without any avail and lost him every single time. After learning your owner's pattern for months, he's finally able to caught him off guard.

But the bastard ran back home and hide just before Miguel catch him. Your owner ran back home and locked the doors, telling you to shut the fuck up if anyone come over to look for him and to not tell his whereabouts.

Miguel is one step ahead this time and he's able to track your owner's house. He then banged on the door which made you jumped in surprise. "Open the damn door, you bastard! I know you're inside." He shouted as he kept banging on the door with his men following and standing by behind him, guns in their hands.

Innocently, you walk over the door and open the door slightly ajar and peeked outside just to met his eyes. Miguel was shocked when his eyes met with your big vulnerable eyes and fluffy bunny ears, looking almost as if you're pleading with a small pout on your face. "Yes?" You said shyly with shaky voice. Miguel looks back at his men in confusion then look back at you. "Hello, little one. Is there anyone inside?" He asked, trying to be less intimidating and as friendly as possible in order not to scare you. You hesitated to answer but you shook your head anyway, since it's seems like the only safe answer to give. He examines your beautiful and small figure from head to toe just to find bruises everywhere then to your dirty clothes that you're wearing. You look up at him with tired eyes and flat expression, making you look like a broken doll.

Miguel is not buying your obvious lie. "Are you sure? You look... Tired. Are you okay?" He asked again. You just nod and rush to close the door but Miguel stopped you from doing so. He grabbed on the door and push it back open, making you stumbling back from the force. "Look, I don't want to hurt you. But I need to take a look inside, okay?" He gave signals to his men to search the house for your owner.

He didn't expect you to panic and starts shouting at him "No! Please! Master will get mad." You said as your eyes starts to well in tears, "He'll hit me and lock me up in the basement again..." You said while sobbing and pulling on his sleeve. Miguel can feel his heart breaking into pieces from how adorably you cried in front of him. As he wanted to hug you and calm you down, his men came back and drags your owner with them. He got a black eye on his right eye due to a hard blow given by Miguel's men right on his face when he tried to run away. They throw him on the floor to force him to get on his knees in front of Miguel.

When your eyes met his you ran towards your master in worry. "Master! Are you okay?" You got on your knees to check on him, even if he's a very cruel and irresponsible master you can't help but feel worried of him getting hurt. But instead of getting any answer back from him, he gave you a very hard and strong punch on the face. You stumbled back in shock and whimpers in pain as you cover your face with your palms from the fear and pain. "You useless bitch! I told you not to let them in!" As he's about to hit you again, Miguel stepped forward to protect you and kick that bastard's stomach with full force in anger. He still couldn't believe that a little angle like you would care so much about a devil like him.

He groans in pain from Miguel's kick and Miguel turned to look at you as you bleed from your nose and cry on the floor. Your owner look up at Miguel then at you "Oh I see what this is all about now. You like her don't you? Fine then, take her away as a compensation. She is a very fine and expensive hybrid." He said with a low chuckle as he gave you a dirty look. "Use her as a cock sleeve or just do anything you like at her, let all of your anger out at her as if she's a punching bag. You won't ever hear a peep out of her mouth, she's well trained for that." Miguel can feel himself boiling in anger but his eyes won't leave your figure, no matter how hard he tried. The idea of a pretty thing like you used and abused by someone like him are just too much for him to even imagine.

Yes, he is indeed a cruel mafia leader. He killed and will kill anyone who got in his way without any remorse or hesitation and punish those who got on his nerves. But seeing how a pure little thing like you getting such a horrible treatment without you deserving any of it, made him feel sick to the pit of his stomach. He got too deep into his thought as he pull a gun out from his pocket without realizing and thinking it through then shot your owner right at his face as you watch the scene in front of you in horror.

The bastard died instantly, his body made a loud thud noise when it hit the floor and blood starts to stain the carpet underneath. Your eyes widened as tears streams down your cheek. Miguel then turned and walks towards you slowly but you stood up and ran away as fast as you can towards your master's bedroom and lock yourself while crying. His men look at Miguel, waiting for his next order. "I'll talk to her." He said with a loud sigh.

He starts knocking at the door, "Little one, please open the door. I won't hurt you I promise." You starts to panic "No go away! Leave me alone! You just killed my master!" You shouted back. Deep down you know that you should be glad that Miguel had killed your master but that makes you feel powerless, knowing that Miguel is capable of hurting anyone let alone killing them.

"I have to okay? He got on my nerves and worse, he hurt you." He spoke again from the other side of the door. "You know nothing about me!" Tears starts to fall even faster from your eyes as the image of your master's dead body kept playing in your head. "Just open this door so I don't need to force it open myself." He said, starting to get frustrated by your behavior.

You ignores him and sat down in the corner of the room, hoping that he'll just go away and leave you alone. He kept knocking at the door but you refused to open it for him. "Fine you won't open this door? I'll have to force it open then." He said before he starts banging harder and harder on the door, cracking it with each of his forcefull movements against the door.

You know very well from how massive he looks that he'll break down the door easily if he wants to. You starts glancing around the room to look for something to protect yourself just incase if Miguel is trying to hurt you. You've been in this room a thousand time when your master forced you to sleep with him but you're never allowed to open his closet or drawers even when you're told to clean his room for him.

Opening the nearest drawer, you starts rummaging to find something sharp to protect yourself. To your surprise you can feel your hand brushing against a hard and cold metal. You never knew your master hid a small gun in his bedroom this whole time but now you're glad he did. Just as you get your hand on the gun the door bursts open and you yelped in surprise. You then points the gun at Miguel "Don't come any closer! Or I'll— I'll shoot you." You said hesitantly.

Miguel look at the gun in your hand with a expressionless face then walks towards you. "I— I said go away!" A step closer from Miguel means a step back from you. But he kept walking closer and ignoring the fact that you have a gun in your hands. Your back hit the wall, making it impossible for you to take another step back from him. He grabbed your hands and points the gun directly at his chest to challenge you. "Go on. Shoot me." He said menacingly. A shiver went down your spine as your hands clenches around the gun and hesitation floods your mind. You never hurt anyone before, how on earth are you going to shoot him?

Your eyes look up at him still with tears on display and your bunny ears tensed then pinned flat back behind you head in fear. Hands trembling badly as you pressed the gun deeper into his chest, not knowing what to do. "That's what I thought." He said before quickly ripped the gun from your hand easily then threw it away to the other side of the room.

You tried to run but he grabbed you wrist and threw you on the floor. "Stop making this harder on yourself." He said before crouching down to meet your eyes. "Please don't hurt me..." You begged while sobbing, hoping that he'll pity you. He just look at your face while caressing your cheek with his massive thumb. Making your face seems so much smaller compared to his hand. "To have such a pretty thing in front of me for free. How lucky of me." He continues to caress your face and admiring your beauty with the feeling of wanting to own you all to himself. Having you safe by his side in his mansion and to have you sleep by his side at night.

But his fantasy must be interrupted by his duty as a mafia leader. "Boss, it's Lyla." One of his men interrupted. "Tell her I'll be there in 10 minutes." He said with so much authority in his voice. "What about her?" His other man looked over at your vulnerable state. Your eyes are focused on Miguel, anticipating his next move. He cussed to himself and took out a syringe from his pocket. "W— what's that for?" You asked nervously. "This? Oh I bring these all the time incase if I need to take a pretty thing like you home." Miguel then cupped you face with one of his free hand and move your face to the side so he could inject your neck easier.

Your hand grabbed his hand, the one that's cupping your cheek. "I don't want this. Please just let me go." He ignores your plea and kissed your cheek softly. "Don't worry little thing, this will only hurt a little okay? Just obey and you'll be just fine." You shook your head but he injected you right away with the syringe. "Good girl." Your body starts to feel numb right away as tears continue to stream down your face. You rest your head against his chest for support. "Shhh that's it, just fall asleep for me like a good girl you are." He pulls you into a hug and starts caressing your hair this time. Your vision starts to blur as darkness starts to invade. Soon you're limp against his chest, breathing softly and peacefully.

He smiled and kissed your forehead before carrying you in his arms in a bridal style. "Let's get going, we don't want the cops to be here anytime soon." He said as he rushed towards his car with you in his arms and his men following behind him. He looked down at your unconscious form in his arms, "Sleep tight, little one."

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: “… what a view, huh?”

Charlie: “Heh, yeah. You can see a whole lot of hell from this hill…”

Vaggie: “Meaning they can see the hotel now, too.”

Charlie: “I guess so.”

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “Nice to know they’re finally getting a glimpse of it.”

Charlie: “Oh the hotel’s been sitting up here for years-”

Vaggie: “Not the hotel.”

Charlie: “Not the hotel?”

Vaggie: “You.”

Charlie: “Me.” (sigh) “What’s Hell seen because of me, Vaggie? Extermination day coming early? Everyone panicking over how they might only have a few months left to live?”

Vaggie: “I’m telling you Heaven had their own bullshit reason for that. And it wasn't you. I'd bet my soul on it.”

Charlie: “Don't joke about that."

Vaggie: "I'm not joking sweetie."

Charlie: "I talked to them and less than an hour later they cut our time in half.”

Vaggie: “They were the ones who called for the meeting with Hell. Why do you think that was? Did they have anything else to say?”

Charlie: “No…”

Vaggie: “Then that’s all they had to say. It was already decided.”

Charlie: “They let me talk, a little bit anyway-"

Vaggie: "How little?"

Charlie: "I had a chance, the best chance we might ever get, and it should have been enough! But it wasn't. I wasn't- it still didn’t change anything. I, I couldn’t change their minds.”

Vaggie: “Oh wow, the people happy with murdering souls didn’t jump at the chance not to murder more souls. Shock. Horror.”

Charlie: “Heaven only does that because they’re scared of us! If I could have shown them there’s another way…”

Vaggie: “You will, sweetie. It’s just gonna take time.”

Charlie: “We don’t have time! We don’t even have a year anymore!”

Vaggie: “We’ll make it work.”

Charlie: “You said that earlier but Vaggie-“

Vaggie: “One guest down~” (clap clap) “That’s a pretty good start~” (clap clap)

Charlie: “Vaggie, please not a sarcastic round of my dumb clapping game from Sir Pentious’s orientation circle. Be serious?”

Vaggie: “I am being serious, babe. Cross my heart.” (clap clap…)

Charlie: “Yay….”

Vaggie: “Charlie, c’mon, Pentious is working out… better than I expected. I mean I expected the selling us out stuff, but he got over that real fast.”

Charlie: “Only because he got caught by Angel Dust real fast.”

Vaggie: “Who you didn’t let kill him. You didn’t let me kill him either. Thanks, sweetie.”

Charlie: “You wouldn’t have really anyway. Probably.”

Vaggie: “We don’t have to worry about that because you gave him a hug and a second chance instead. You guys sang a song about it.”

Charlie: “I’m always singing songs. They’re easy. At least when you have a catchy tune and nice little rhyme, there’s a chance no one will notice you have no idea what you’re doing.”

Vaggie: “I know what you’re doing.”

Charlie: “Great. I don’t.”

Vaggie: “You’re letting late night no sleep Charlie be mean to you in your own head.”

Charlie: “Our problems won’t go away just from me sleeping. We might even just get new ones-”

Vaggie: “That’s not a way to makes things work, honey. Clap clap.”

Charlie: “Vaggie…”

Vaggie: “Trust me with my manger job and come to bed- er, with me? Clap clap?”

Charlie: “You’re saying the clap claps aloud.”

Vaggie: “My hands and arms are busy hugging at the moment.”

Charlie: “You also didn’t sing it. And the rhyming meter got all messed up.”  

Vaggie: “And you’re smiling now, I can hear it.”

Charlie: “I have no idea how you do that…”

Vaggie: “Come snuggle with me and maybe I’ll whisper you my Charlie-wrangling secret.”

Charlie: (laughs) “What would I do without you, Vaggie? What did I do without you all this time?”

Vaggie: “Stayed up the whole night trying to help everyone except yourself.”

Charlie: “Ouch.”

Vaggie: “Facts, babe. That’s why I’m here though, so it all works out.”

Charlie: “This one thing really did, didn’t it?”

Vaggie: “I’ve been telling you it will.”

Charlie: “Not the hotel.”

Vaggie: “Charlie-”

Charlie: “The us.”

Vaggie: “���yeah. That too.”

Charlie: “If it’s the only thing this hotel gets right, then I don’t think… I can’t really be mad about it, honestly.”

Vaggie: “You’d be pissed if this doesn’t work out. Spitting hellfire. And I’d be angry as fuck right along with you.”

Charlie: “Partners in high blood pressure! We make a GREAT team.”

Vaggie: “We should be partners in snoring right now so shoo.”

Charlie: “Wait-”

Vaggie: “Shoo shoo, sweetie. To bed with you.”

Charlie: “I just- one last thing, Vaggie?”

Vaggie: “Only ONE and then, BED.”

Charlie: “I love you.”

Vaggie: “Charlie…"

Charlie: "Yes...? Wh- Oof!"

Vaggie: "I love you too, but."

Charlie: "S-surprise tackles aren't fair!"

Vaggie: "All's fair in love and war. And if you don’t close those pretty eyes in the next two minutes I’m gonna try smothering you with all of our pillows. Lovingly.”

Charlie: “We have pillows together. That’s so…”

Vaggie: “Charlie.”

Charlie: “I’m so glad you’re down here in Hell. I’m so lucky- Oh shit- is that a weird thing to say? Oh no that’s a REALLY weird thing to say-”

Vaggie: “Charlie. Sleep.”

Charlie: “I have my eyes closed! But was that weird? I don’t want you to be in HELL, as in stuck living around all this suffering and death and- I’m just so happy you’re-”

Vaggie: “I’m glad I’m here with you.”

Charlie: “Right, okay.”

Vaggie: “I want to be in hell.”

Charlie: “I mean heaven is proooobably better but thanks for saying-”

Vaggie: “If heaven ever wants me they’d have to drag me up there in chains and cage me there.”

Charlie: “Vaggie!” (laughs) “You know they’d never, they’re angels!”

Vaggie: “Murderers.”

Charlie: “That’s different-”

Vaggie: “Don’t you dare get me riled up about those deranged assholes when we’re trying to sleep, babe. I’ll need that boost of adrenaline just to wake up in the morning.”

Charlie: “Well no one’s taking you anywhere anyway, angels or otherwise. I’m keeping you right here.”

Vaggie: “Good.”

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: “…can I keep you for always, Vaggie?”

Vaggie: “Mmf... bold of you to think anything could pry me off you...”

Charlie: “You do give really good hugs.”

Vaggie: (groans) “Know what else would be good right now?”

Charlie: “Sleep?”

Vaggie: “SLEEP.”

Charlie: “Okay~”

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @chennqingg | divider by @fictive-sl0th

Biker!Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader | No Outbreak AU

Warnings for this Chapter: none, really... some curse words, alcohol, Merle being Merle

Word Count: 1,4k

a/n: Since it's my birthday today, I thought why not give y'all a little gift and post two chapters of LITRM this week. 🤗

I'm a lil' insecure about this chapter, though... I hope you are going to like it! Also, we have small cameos of two well-known TWD characters, hehe. Oh, and Merle, of course.

《 M a s t e r l i s t 》

《 Chapter Three 》 《 Chapter Five 》

Chapter Four...

... in which Daryl takes on a destiny changing job and you desperately try to forget the stranger who had conquered your heart so surprisingly - without success?

It had been two months and two days since Daryl's motorcycle trip through America with the gang and three months and eight days since the night he had spent with you. Now he was back at work; things bouncing back to normalcy.

A grunt left his lips as he realised that his break was over. He took a last drag of his cigarette, before he let the stub fall to the ground; stubbing it out with the heel of his boot. Then the biker returned to his current workplace in the motorcycle shop his brother, Merle, owned.

He picked up where he left off, exchanging the bike's chain, as he suddenly saw Merle approaching him in the corner of his eyes. "Got a job for ya, baby brother," Merle came to stand beside him; a piece of paper dangling between his pointer finger and thumb. Daryl looked up at his brother. With a grunt, he stood from where he was squatting beside the vehicle and wiped his greasy hands on the light blue, baggy overall he wore. "A job, huh?" Daryl said; taking the piece of paper.

It was an offer from a few different motorcycle dealer, who wanted to sell some of their customised bikes. "You wan' me to check 'em out?" Merle nodded; crossing his arms over his chest. Daryl scoffed and shoved the piece of paper into his brother's chest. "Nah. Got better stuff ta do. Go check 'em out yourself or send T-Dog or someone else."

Merle laughed out loud at his little brother's words. "Ya really think I'd send someone like T-Dog? Lil' piece of shit can be glad that I'll still let 'im work here." "Then ya gotta go yerself," Daryl shrugged his shoulders and focused back on work.

Merle stood beside him for quite a few more moments in silence; just watching. At some point, it got on Daryl's nerves and he looked up at his older brother again; "Wha'?" noticing that he had a shit eating grin on his face. "Ohh, baby brother... You should really give this another think, ya know... 'Cause all of them dealers are in Montana - and from what I heard 'bout your last trip with your lil' friends, you had a lotta fun there, right?"

Daryl scoffed; already disliking this conversation. "Righ', fun."

It wasn't a lie. It was the truth and he couldn't deny it.

Merle's dirty grin widened. "So yer goin'?" Daryl grunted, but nodded; not having the nerves or want to continue this 'discussion'. "Fine. 'M goin'." The older Dixon laughed once again; "Thought ya couldn't resist." giving Daryl a rather harsh clap on the shoulder. "Hope yer havin' just as much fun this time, baby brother. Jus' make sure ya don't get too caught up, eh? I want dem bikes." The biker grumbled under his breath, while Merle walked away; amused by his brother's behaviour.

A few days later, Daryl was on the road again for his almost thirty hours ride to Montana with a stopover in Sioux City, Iowa, where he stayed the night in a motel and continued his journey very early in the morning - until he reached his (first) destination... Miles City. The moon had already replaced the sun, when he threw the keys to his motel room on the bed; angel-winged vest, sunglasses and helmet following. The biker was tired from all the driving and travelling, but he didn't feel like going to bed. Not yet.

He quickly paid the tiny bathroom a visit, before he searched his backpack for his beloved cap, grabbed his run-down wallet and the keys again. Then he made his way to the bar he held very good memories of... 'The Rowdy Raccoon'.

Being way closer to the establishment this time than a few months ago, he could walk and didn't have to drive - which was fortunate, in case he decided to have a few more beers or drinks.

The bar hadn't changed. It was still the same. Nice people, good music and excellent alcohol. Daryl immediately had a good feeling - just like last time. Like a déjà-vu.

His eyes scanned the area; not finding a single familiar face in the crowd, but he didn't care. He was here for the drinks, a round of pool and perhaps to find some company for the night. After getting himself the first beer of the evening, Daryl joined a group of three men, who had just made their way to the pool tables. They were open and friendly; letting him join the game, of course and welcoming him in their circle.

'Start Me Up' by The Rolling Stones was blaring from the old jukebox as Daryl's cue hit the white cue ball on the pool table.

He was definitely in for a long night. That much was clear.

You didn't know why you had decided to go in town this evening. Perhaps it was the urge to escape the same four walls around you and with that your mind - which had become more and more a trap for you the past days and weeks... Tess told you to get over it. Over him. And you tried. God knows you did, but you just couldn't. You felt utterly stupid for holding on to this, but your heart acted on its own will. One night was enough to make you a fool for man, who you barely knew and you'd most likely never see again.

You sighed; grimacing as you stopped at the bar.

I need a drink, you convinced yourself, but deep down you knew that you just went there because it reminded you of him. You weren't able to escape it. It was like an invisible string pulling you in. So, you did what you had already done nth times before... Stepping inside the 'rowdy Raccoon'.

The by now familiar smell of alcohol, cold smoke and a trillion different perfumes hit your nose. Without wasting another thought, you stepped directly over to the bar counter; sliding on one of the stools. "Hey, Y/N," the bartender greeted you with a smile. You became quite good friends over the last few months. "Hey, Magna." "Same as always?" You nodded. "Yeah, please." The woman with inked skin wiped her hands on a towel and immediately went to work.

"There you go, honey," Magna said; placing a glass in front of you. "One Whiskey Cola." "Thanks."

You did some small talk with Magna; trying to not get too lost in your own thoughts - and it worked. In your eyes, it was a success. A step in the right direction - but only mere minutes later, you got thrown off track once again; harder than ever before...

Returning from a visit to the restrooms, Magna placed a second glass of Whiskey Cola in front of you, causing you to frown. "Magna, I didn't-" "I know," the bartender interrupted you immediately. "But that guy over there insisted on buying you a drink. Guess you got a secret admirer." Magna winked; jutting her head into the direction of the pool tables. Still frowning, your eyes followed her gesture - and what you then saw made you question your sanity for a good minute...

Beside the left pool table stood none other than the man who had managed to turn your whole world upside down within a few hours; a cue in his right hand, a beer in the other. He was talking to some other dudes he was playing with - all of them unfamiliar to you and not his motorcycle gang. The signature angel-winged vest, chestnut brown curls and black baseball cap was unmistakable... It was Daryl.

"No fucking way..." You mumbled underneath your breath; still trying to grasp this. You were quite a bit afraid that you were drunk already or dreaming and therefore hallucinating - but when your eyes met those endless blue-grey orbs, you knew it was real. Your thundering heart inside of your chest was enough proof. The world seemed to stop turning around you. All you could see, was the handsome biker across from you - and the beautiful, cheeky little smirk playing around the corners of his mouth.

Like in a trance, you slipped off the bar stool; legs carrying you over to the man in leather and jeans.

"D-Daryl?" You breathed in disbelief, as your hand twitched beside your body; desperately resisting the urge to touch him and see if he was truly real.

The man kept on smirking softly; nodding at you. "Hey, cowgirl. Thought I was never gonna see ya again... 'N yet here we are."

Tags: @dixons-sunshine @angelwings-crossbowstrings @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @imadisneyprincessiswear @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @erebus-et-eigengrau @belitoxx @coleigh-1205-blog @chaoticevilbakugo @thevegandarkelf @lou12346789 @marvelcasey05 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @cakesandtom @mayday2007

If you want to be added or removed from this taglist, please let me know!

[wiisagi-maiingan]

I love watching youtube videos about tiktok and influencer drama, mainly because I'm completely disconnected from stuff like that (I have never watched an influencer video in my life) so it gives me the thrill of true crime without the tragedy exploitation aspect, but sometimes I also feel completely disconnected from the youtubers too?

Like every youtuber has to offer up a million disclaimers about how they aren't judging influencers or whatever and that's usually fine but like. I do feel that there ARE points where people need to be judged for the content they're sharing and promoting and profiting off of!

"I'm not judging tradwives or saying their content is bad—" I am!! I am absolutely judging tradwives! Extremely harshly! Because the entire "tradwife" movement is conservative propaganda based on misogynistic and patriarchal ideas about history with no basis in reality or in our modern world! And tradwife influencers explicitly target young women and especially teen girls and try to convince them to put their entire lives in the hands of their husbands, which is a horrific recipe for domestic abuse!

These women making hundreds of thousands of dollars off tiktok videos (and often coming from extremely wealthy families) are out here telling young girls that they don't need an education, that they don't need their own income, that if they're just pretty enough and obedient enough then they'll find a rich husband and never have to worry about anything ever and it's fucking scary! And I don't know why we are tolerating it!

We know what happens when people, especially women, give up complete control to their partners. We know what that leads to, resentment and extreme control and total lack of options when things go from totally fine to constant arguing to violence. These influencers, who ARE making extremely significant personal incomes from their jobs as influencers online, lie through their fucking teeth about how perfect it is that their husbands do everything for them and all they have to do is take care of the kids and home (with the help of nannies and housekeepers and personal chefs off-screen. . .) and about how they've escaped from capitalism, meanwhile the people actually in those situations who AREN'T making all that extra cash are either already in abusive relationships or they're in incredibly precarious positions where they could end up abused or thrown out with nothing in an instant.

I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to be a homemaker or stay-at-home parent. I don't think it's wrong to not want to go to college or have a 9-5.

But you NEED options. You need full access to your own money that can't be monitored or controlled by a partner. You need access to a vehicle. You need a life outside of your home and family, especially friends who are willing and able to help you if needed. You need the ability to survive on your own in some way. Because if and when things go wrong in the relationship, THOSE are the things that will save your life.

Also remember that again, these tradwives DO have jobs and their jobs involve selling a fake lifestyle and fake ideals. They are getting paid BIG TIME for the shit they peddle to you, whether that's through the millions of views they get (both from genuine fans and from haters, the algorithm doesn't know or care about the difference) or the many sponsorships they get, they have incomes that they are not disclosing. They have help that they are not disclosing. Many of them started out with extreme wealth but lie through their teeth and cosplay as fucking homesteading peasants. It's all a lie to sell shit to you. Don't buy it.

Disclaimer: Please do not nitpick this post, it's very late and I'm ranting and if this leaves my circle of followers I will regret it deeply. Be nice. Tradwives dni, you're all annoying.

[smusherina]

bridges burnt - chapter 3 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.

additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 4

You were leaning against the wall, an unlit cigarette in your mouth. Nicotine was the only substance you hadn't been able to cut off entirely. You smoked less now and were trying to quit, but it wasn't quite so easy. You had made a promise to smoke only once a day. This would be your third if you lit up.

"Need a light?" Janis rounded the corner, already inhaling. The scent of the smoke solved your dilemma. Fuck it. She exhaled as she extended her lighter to you. An old zippo. It was gold-ish in colour, engraved with shapes that were wearing away. You were pretty sure if she were to sell it, she'd get several hundred for it.

"Thanks." Maybe this was the universe telling you that it'd be okay. Just today. Just today, you could smoke all the goddamned cigarettes you wanted.

"When'd you and Regina get back together?" Janis leaned against the porch railing across from you. Behind her was a pretty hillside that led down into a thick forest. The sky was grey and not much light penetrated the dense clouds, making the woods look that much grimmer. You'd rather be there than here.

"A while ago." You might've not seen her in years but you knew when she was plotting something. That kiss out in the open like that was a clue, a wordless message she trusted you to get on your own. You were together. You didn't know what she was playing at or why you were going along with it. Probably old habits.

Janis snorted. "Romantic. Mia would kill me if I said we've been together for a while."

"Get off my dick, Janis," You snapped unnecessarily. You didn't want to be on the spot like this. You couldn't give many details and risk contradicting Regina.

(Why couldn't you? Why didn't you say, "Oh, hey, actually we're not together" instead of, once more, following her example like a good dog.)

"Jeez, I was just asking. Trouble in paradise? Sure didn't seem that way." She wiggled her eyebrows at you. You wished you hadn't lit up the cig so you could just walk away.

"We're fine. Why's your Mia not here?" You assumed that was her partner.

"I didn't get a plus one." She shrugged. "Besides, not sure she could've gotten out of work. They're doing a merger, or something."

"She's the breadwinner then and you're what? A tortured artist?"

"What you don't realize, my friend, is that I'm winning here. I have a beautiful wife who makes money like a printer, has a 401k and air-tight insurance, and works nine to five while I get to paint my little paintings all day." Janis took a drag. "And she fucks me good."

You groaned. "Janis, please."

"Meanwhile you act like you're better than me when, in fact, I'm happy and you're miserable." She finished off with a snarky smile.

Once upon a time, you'd fantasized about staying in the garage all day, fixing old cars as a hobby, and greeting Regina when she got home from her Real Adult Job, wearing a sexy pantsuit and carrying a mysterious briefcase.

Not anymore. You wore the suits, you carried the briefcase, and you did not fix old cars as a hobby.

"You should give motivational speeches. Think Northshore would love to have you back." You took a deep drag. Deflecting with sarcasm was cheap but effective.

"You think?" Her smile softens. "Seriously, though, how've you been?"

"It's been... Good." It had been good recently. You knew, though, that Janis was asking about the last ten years and not just your week. If you were to compile a list of all the good and bad things from that long a time period, one would be perhaps a page and the other a several-foot scroll. Respectively.

"Wow. I forgot how close-lipped you are." Janis said. You could tell she was disappointed. You'd never been friends, not really, not ever like her and Damian, but there was an understanding between you.

You let up.

"We got back together after college." You swallowed, trodding on eggshells, being as vague as possible. "I was cleaning up my act, trying to get away from it all. Moved back into town and met Regina coincidentally. Rest is history, I suppose." You eyed the hills. The view turned into misty nothingness before you could tell if it was the ocean there or more land.

"I heard your dad passed," Janis said, blunt but not mean. "Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, I guess." You rubbed your forehead. It wasn't tactful to tell a near-stranger that you weren't actually all that upset about it. "To be honest, it was a long time coming. He was in bad shape."

He'd gotten ill when you were in college. At first, all the business stuff was being handled by his team but as more and more time passed and he showed no signs of getting better, he started nagging you to do more for the company.

What the fuck you were gonna do? You didn't know shit about business and, besides, were high out of your mind half the time. You didn't want any of it, didn't want his blood money and shady practices. But you were gonna get it.

Now, you could say you had things under control. Somewhat. You sold some locations, passed them off to people better suited, and sure, lost some money in the process but you weren't ambitious like your dad had been.

If it was up to you, you'd keep the one shop you'd always worked at and make an honest, humble living the remainder of your days. Start a project you could work on for the next several years and be content.

"Sorry to hear that." Janis stumped her cigarette on the ground. You did the same, dropping the stub and snuffing it out with your shoe.

"Well." You sighed. "I'm not."

With that, you turned and walked back towards the doors leading into the hall. Janis followed behind you.

People were still mingling around the place, the bride and groom yet to make an entrance. Your table was somewhere in the middle, not one of the important ones but with a clear view of the stage and where the important people were meant to be sitting.

The mother of the bride was eyeing the room like a hawk scanning for prey. Her eyes didn't catch yours but you could tell she was keen on Janis. The all-black ensemble stood out almost as much as Regina's white stole.

Speaking of her. She was sitting and chatting with Shane, seeming cool and casual. Damian was there too, engaged and laughing at the right parts.

You approached deliberately slowly, trying to hear what they were talking about before you sat down.

"-came back to town after college and we hit it off." She turned her head slightly and made eye contact with you. "Baby," She greeted you.

You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling warm. "Reg," You sat down and, as casually as you could, draped an arm over the back of her chair.

"I was just telling Shane how we met." Her sharp eyes met yours. "What'd you tell Janis?"

You needed to get your stories straight. Act natural. It was sheer luck you'd both set the same timeline.

"I was just telling her how we met up after college. If I remember correctly, wasn't it, uh, at uh..." You fumbled. "The grocery store?"

"Yes, mom saw you and I'm sure she didn't let you leave without a date set for when you'd come to dinner." Regina finished for you. Shane was buying it, slowly crawling out of his shell. You were quickly realizing that the gay people had all been shoved to one table. Hopefully, that didn't bode anything.

"That's Mrs George for you." You knew it was Ms now but old habits die hard.

Regina smiled at you, hand coming to rest on your knee. You shivered. It scared you how genuine she seemed. She could be awarded an Oscar for this shit.

You watched her, really looked at her. She was still so beautiful. She'd always been pretty beyond belief, gorgeous like a movie star, but the confidence she carried with herself now made it all a stunning, deadly combination.

Even so, you couldn't help feeling melancholy. You hadn't seen any of it, certainly were not the reason for it, and chances were this little scheme she was cooking up was at your expense. She had every right to seek vengeance against you.

You wondered if it was worth it to try and enjoy it. Would it hurt to dream a little? You could use a break from practicality.

You closed your eyes for a moment.

"Baby?" Your eyes fluttered open as her hand came to caress your cheek. You leaned into the touch.

"Yeah?" You asked and tilted forward, closer to her. Regina mirrored you, putting a hand on your knee and leaning some of her weight on it as her lips neared yours.

"Just focus on me," She grinned and you resisted the urge to steal a kiss. "Trust me."

"Always." You whispered, reverent in just the same way you used to be. You'd known it for a long time, the irresistible fate you'd sworn yourself to, that you'd go back to her every time.

"Ehem," Someone cleared their throat behind you. You went to look but Regina kept a hold on you. She placed a languid kiss on your lips, sending your mind into orbit, before turning towards the person so rudely invading your bubble.

"Yes?" She almost hissed, smiling in a way that was more like a threat. All teeth and sharp edges.

"The bride and groom are about to enter, so it would be really, really nice if you two could can it for a few moments, 'kay? Thanks!" The maid of honour chirped, voice so high pitched you had to wonder if she was inhaling helium on her off-time.

Regina watched her scurry away, eyes going up and down her retreating back in a manner that surely should've made you jealous. You knew, though, that for one, Regina didn't like girls that wore dresses and, secondly, that she was up to something. She wasn't checking out the maid of honour—she wished—but evaluating her.

"What a bitch, right?" Regina turned to the rest of the table with a sneer on her face.

You bit your cheek to hide a smile as everybody agreed. This was going to be utter shit. Total, absolute chaos with a side of heartbreak and, potentially, a ruined wedding.

You dreaded it. You anticipated it. Both could be true at once.

Notes: Hello all! Been some time! I've been in my summer groove, having a proper vacation. It's been liberating. Hopefully there's some interested readers for this series :) Taglist posted separately! If you want to be added, comment on that post please.

[k-s-morgan]

What are your plans to the future? Do you think about moving to another country? At least for a while until this war ends? I hope you can undestand what i meant, english is not my first language but what i am trying to say its You have endure enough. You are strong for remaining yourself and keeping hoping for a better future but a better future sees unlikeable to happen. This world is insane. The people in it dont care about each other. I am worried by you. Every day.

Another ask: Me again. So as i said before, people dont care about anything that arent themself. Many countrys could help to end this insanity but they wont. I dont know if they even try it tbh. You have done enough Morgan. If its money the issue, i will send to you everything i can. If you have the chance to leave, please do it. You can always start again, and enjoy live again if you are alive. Your life and your mother and your family's life are important. Please, please think about it.

-----

Hello! Oh, thank you so much for worrying about me to this extent <3 I can't tell you how warm and reassuring this feels to me. Your asks touched me a lot, I'm so grateful to have readers like you - sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am.

I do think about moving - I've been thinking of it since the start of the war, but unfortunately, the choice always comes down to my safety vs. my family. To have both, I would indeed need money, but way too much of it. Like, tens of thousands of dollars. This is just not achievable.

Starting a new life elsewhere would mean that my mother would be automatically out of job. She won't be able to find anything even remotely good due to her age and qualifications, and if she leaves now, she'll lose her pension. 3 more years separate her from it. So, I'll become the sole provider.

In Kyiv, we live in our own apartment, but in another place, we would have to pay the rent, which is always expensive. Technically, with the job I have now, I would be able to support us anyway, but only barely. And what would happen if I were to lose my job? I lost it twice in one year already. What if someone gets sick, or another emergency happens, or I die? My family would be completely helpless - no pension, no jobs, no proper savings.

Selling the Kyiv apartment is way too risky - the money can lose value or disappear in other ways, and we'd be homeless. Renting it out is a possibility, but my stepfather lives here. He can't leave, or he risks getting drafted.

Of course, if the threat to our lives was acute - like if Russians were standing near Kyiv again and bombs were flying at us non-stop, we'd all flee. It would come to a life in uncertainty and poverty vs. death, and we'd naturally choose the former. But the threat isn't acute yet. Yes, the air raids happen daily, and it's terrifying, and things are getting worse, but statistically, not that many people die from it. We face a much bigger chance of being hit by a car than by a missile.

That's what makes this choice so complicated and nuanced. And I'm not even talking about emotional factors, such as this being my beloved home, a place where my relatives and pets are buried, a place where I take care of the specific homeless cats and birds - they depend on me, and leaving them behind is devastating.

If I had a lot of money, I would leave anyway, but I don't, so making this decision is next to impossible. Leaving alone would be easy, but it is not an option - my family is my lifeline. I'd rather live in horror with them than in happiness without them.

However, I also understand that such a life is impossible to bear. I'm so traumatized that I think even in the best-case scenario, I will die before my time due to some nerves-related illness.

This December, my father turns 60. After this, he will be safe to leave. If the war is not over and there is still no hope, I think I will move to another city, a safe one, with him, while my Mom and my step-father stay for 3 more years until my Mom's pension. I will come visit them often, maybe live in both places.

That's what I have in mind for now. It's a tentative plan, but it's there, and I'm holding onto it while still hoping that this nightmare finally ends this year. Justice will not come, but peace, at least a temporary one? Maybe.

[ashs-nerd-den]

Gearrscannán ar YouTube

Short films on YouTube

(Don't worry, everything has English subtitles in the videos themselves)

Fán https://youtu.be/e3xnvkMp_1Q?si=i-4pmljDbzA8bRtu

Created by the incredible @nibmoss, an absolute queen (Bánríon). It is a short sapphic story about 2 best friends who end up together and it is my favourite short story ever!!! It is also my favourite piece of Irish media in existence!!! I love it!!! It is incredible!!! BEYOND AMAZING!!!

Yu Ming is ainm dom https://youtu.be/JqYtG9BNhfM?si=jnZjP4LozqOhNxkI

This is a classic. Ive had 4 different teachers show me this over the years, and my first year Irish class studied it exam style. It was the first piece that we studied and everyone LOVED it, people were quoting it all the time. Every second conversation had someone using a line from it. It's a crows pleaser and simple to listen to even without the subtitles provided. It also has a great storyline about a man who is fed up with his life in China and learns Irish to move over here, and well (bhuel) , I won't spoil the plot twist for you

Lipservice https://youtu.be/4QP0eEhhTSo?si=1DLvo_ECRhwGI5s8

It's the day of the oral exams and everyone is terrified (bhí imní an domhain ar gach duine), people are rehearsing in the bathrooms and speaking French instead of English, the stuff that half of them come out with is absolutely gas, this one is such a bit of craic, I was in stitches. And the bit at the end is so sweet. Is breá liom an gearrscannán seo agus beidh mé mo scrúdú béil i dhá bhliain 🙈🙈🙈 (I loved this short film and I've my speaking test in 2 years🙈🙈🙈

Filleann ar feall https://youtu.be/Tay7eMxas2k?si=q3ksVJVYJ7E_xxoa

IT'S CILLIAN MURPHY AG CAINT AS GAEILGE!!! You can't beat a bit of Cillian, he's a national treasure. And this is 2000 Cillian, he's so young (this was before I was born) he's in the Gaeltacht for his holidays with a grumpy friend, on a job to sell some Putchín, and he is everyone's favourite sweetgeart, a bit of a himbo, and a respecter of old ladies. Agus deir duine sa sna tuairimí (a person in the comments said that it's like Breaking bad, but with an Irish teacher that instead of a chemistry one (I've never seen Breaking Bad, so I don't know how true that is, but I do know that this was AR FHEABHAS!!!

Rúbaí https://youtu.be/jjYx5v2BUWo?si=tFu1ektBvHNkoQFB

This is a short story about a little girl (cailín beag) who's class is about to make their 1st Holy Communion, but she doesn't believe in God (ní creideann sí i nDia). She's everyone is trying to convince her that god is real and she's just like "nope, read a bit of Darwin, he's great, I'm off to collect worms", even to the priests face and towards the end there's a bitter sweet twist which gives a LOT of background. This was a nice, easy watch, the little girls was so cute, there were a couple of laughs (cúpla gáire) and the vocab was nice and simple

Gaiste https://youtu.be/Xr-V7vg_Y2Q?si=cMMNqPLkmtugbg8t

Very simple vocab, good message, kind of like a fable, big "One of us is Lying" vibes. Nice short film overall

Fíorghael https://youtu.be/t3Kv4fZ2SOE?si=bHibiFJyRUcvZ-TZ

This ones a bit older, but it's still a good bit of craic. You need to wait a couple of minutes to get into it, but the end is brilliant (Caithfidh tú cúpla nóiméad a fanacht chun dul isteach ar, ach tá an chríoch go hiontach)

Sylvia https://youtu.be/fi_4aweOP4w?si=ZCfUAfYaD73IVn8r

There are plot twists, and then there plot backflips, this was the later. This is so weird, but I really enjoyed it at the same time

Ciúnas https://youtu.be/cGfuQ-HeTmk?si=WRPGmo-UNQ0bw9mA

There's not much dialogue, but all of it is very casual, so you still get to pick up a few words that you wouldn't find in a textbook. The storyline is quite sweet, but please be careful watching because it although it centres around her family's love for her, it is set on the way home from the hospital after she tried to end her own life

[hell-is-not-an-excuse]

Not so sorted Ghostfuckers thoughts

Firstly, this episode was an improvement over the last few, at least in my opinion - That isn't to say that it's great, or even particularly good, but I can say that I was more invested in this episode, even if only a little. It had more focus on the original concept of the show with an I.M.P mission finally not just being reduced to a short... Though the mission still doesn't take full priority, something I will expand on momentarily.

Before that though, I'll start off with the things I did actually like.

The bankruptcy joke got a quick giggle out of me. It may be that I'm still an immature little homonculus, but the jokes that don't fall into the unnecessarily crude/sexual category still elicit a reaction from me.

This joke got me too - I know that this was almost definitely intended as a jab towards critics, however it loops back around to being funny to me, as I joke a lot about being "objectively correct".

These frames of Moxxie specifically - I love him a lot and wish he was in a show that took better care with its character writing

I enjoyed seeing the flashback designs for the I.M.P crew - Moxxie isn't too different, but I actually sort of prefer the others past looks here.

Lastly, this specific moment/line! This is a massive improvement over what was given to us in those leaked boards - In the original boards, I had a hard time believing that Millie would have this suicidal fit out of seemingly nowhere because... Some other demon told her she was a bad wife? This is a much more "in character" line for Millie, given what we already knew about her as an audience (which admittedly, wasn't a lot, but she never gave off the sort of insecurity/suicidal ideation that the original boards appeared to have been pushing for).

I think I've gotten all the praise I can wring out of my system - Now comes all the issues I take with this newest episode. These criticisms come in no particular order.

There's the usual thought that comes whenever a new episode drops - The swearing and sexual humour is too frequent and over the top. I'm an enjoyer of well placed crude and sexual humour, but this isn't well placed. With every second line containing profanity, innuendo, or explicit sexual content, they become less and less special and interesting to hear, to the point that watching characters interact becomes a slog.

Blitz is supposedly having this month long breakdown because... He had a breakup that wasn't really a breakup? He himself admits they were never in a relationship, and gets upset at the concept that him and Stolas will never be together. Obvious criticism of Stolitz notwithstanding, until Apology Tour, there have been no genuine moments of "love" between the two - This all comes off more as Blitz mourning this potential (now dead) relationship because the writers feel it's time for him to do so, without selling to the audience why he would give a damn about Stolas in the first place. I hardly believe Stolas and his pining back in Ozzie's, let alone the shameless display that we're getting now.

Speaking of Stolas, this is a perfect segue into what I said I was going to expand upon further down in this post; despite this episode having an I.M.P mission be a main setting, that's all it is - A setting. I wouldn't mind so much if this was purely for character building, but it's yet another instance of things happening because of Stolas. This feathered fuck haunts the narrative even when he's not present! The mission is presented more as an avenue of helping Blitz "get over" Stolas as opposed to just being a job that the members of I.M.P need to, you know, live.

Speaking of, how financially stable are I.M.P and its employees? Despite having nearly two seasons to expand on the concept of a business owned by the lowest caste of Hell's systems, nothing is done with it. With a setup like that, there should at least be some narrative drama involving the company facing challenges and instances of being in financial dire straights. Instead of this however, Blitz is able to blow a months worth of money on useless knick-knacks and owls to burn? With no real show of consequence as a result of this?

While I enjoyed seeing a bit of Millie backstory and her relationship to Blitz, Helluva still suffers from its "tell don't show" rule. Millie mentions she loves to have fun with Blitz, but we have never seen an instance of these two having fun together in show.

Honestly, the backstory of Blitz/Millie's meet and subsequent partnership should have been its own episode; we could have actually seen her steal the target from I.M.P as a solo assassin, we could have seen the state of I.M.P before her addition - If you wanted a bit of shipping fuel, you could also have an instance of Moxxie being too starstruck by this mysterious, wrathful rival to take a shot on her. So many possibilities! All wasted.

Millie's development episode shouldn't have come at the tail end of season two - She's been in the show since episode ONE, she deserved something in the first season to flesh her out.

I do not buy her reasoning for looking up to Blitz; if she thinks of herself as only a simple country girl or a brute, this would have been nice to actually see hinted to us throughout the show.

The casual ableism in the joke about the Hotel Owner's new cleaner - Not only is the way he is depicted simply dehumanising, framing him as this object of disgust rather than a person, this is driven further by being called a "poor thing" and only being reacted to with vague disgust by Blitz and Millie. And of course he's barely verbal, with the exception of a funny swear word (/sarc).

The whole sequence where Blitz is alone and being tormented by visions of Millie and Tilla is... It sure exists. Subtlety is lost in most of this dialogue here as once again, we are bluntly told what the problem with Blitz is - We know he makes decisions that fuck over others for his own benefit, we know he's selfish. We've seen this time and again!! This is not something that needed to be explicitly spoken for what feels like the millionth time in this (so far) two-season run.

Speaking of mothers! Millie and Loona get shafted into a role of taking care of their respective man for the episode - As a matter of fact, both their conversations involve Blitz or Moxxie. After nearly two seasons, I don't think they've had a conversation that wasn't about their male coworkers/relationships.

What is an infestor demon? Have they shown up before? What in God's name am I supposed to know about them? Somehow when it comes to worldbuilding, the need to explain everything explicitly is gone.

Why is Blitz being emotionally tortured again while Stolas sees no real consequence? This is getting to be a really tired pattern.

The whole ghostfucking bit was already testing my patience within the first couple of minutes.

Anyway, that's all I have of like... More surface level critiques of this episode. I'll probably make a few more minor posts about this episode later and elaborate on some new thing my brain is sticking to.

[phosphorlily]

I made a DOL NPC character—Meet Carmilla the Butcher, an odd, asocial butcher who has a hard time placing any feeling other than "Okay" or "Alright"! I was gonna make their ref more fancy, but I ran out of steam, so! Information about them under the read more vvv

Carmilla! They're a love interest with the special stat, Caution, which starts at 100%.

Carmilla's butcher shop is where you first encounter them, and a place where you can buy or learn more recipes, get ingredients for cooking, and sell any lurkers you've caught.

Let's talk about that caution stat. As mentioned before, they start with high caution and don't leave the shop or talk much, but the lower the caution, the more opportunities you have to raise love. But watch out!

High love but low caution means they'll go more places, including occasionally going back to school (1 in 4 chance at 50% or lower caution) because they're near the same age as the PC! It will also unlock the option to complain to them about the town, lowering stress and trauma. Do this multiple times, and they'll start giving you free meat from an 'unknown animal'. Asking about it lowers love and you get the answer, "Don't worry about it." Note that 'complain' will not provide you meat if you've not been molested or raped by unnamed NPCs, but will keep lowering stress and trauma regardless.

Carmilla can occasionally be found in the woods or along the road at night in their pajamas. Finding them in this state will lower both caution and love, but increase lust and stress.

High love, lust, and mid or low caution will unlock a new location—The Secret Abattoir. This is where you can confirm your involvement with them as a love interest at 60 or greater love and lust, and 60 or lower caution; and it is implied that Carmilla lives here. This place is considered a safehouse regardless of the player's standing with Carmilla or if they're even still in the game.

If you pass out around Carmilla, they will either take you to the infirmary (school) and explain to your teachers the situation, take you to the hospital (outside), or use smelling salts on you (abattoir).

Unlike other LIs, there is no penalty for being affectionate with others in front of them. They'll just giggle and call you cute (meek)/popular (normal)/hot (defiant) enough for others to notice, too. The first time this happens, you can then ask if they're okay with that, to which they'll respond affirmatively and comment based on the LI, as follows:

"If that one gets too rough on you, though," Carmilla points to Whitney as (he/she) speaks, "Tell ('im/her) you know Carmilla. That should make (him/her) think twice before messing with you."

"Oh! Eden!" Carmilla exclaims excitedly. "A wonderful business partner. (He/She) rarely comes into town, but always brings meats for me to sell. Give (him/her) my regards, would you? Without (him/her), I wouldn't be where I am now."

"That one's cute," Carmilla smiles as you two talk about Kylar. "What's (he/she) like? I haven't been able to chat with (him/her) much. Always shying away from me, even when (he/she) just ignores others. I think it's on purpose… A shame."

"Oh!" Carmilla exclaims. "Before I took my extended break from school, I rented out a book… Ohhh, Sydney's going to be so mad… Well, 's my own fault. Can't get mad at (him/her) doing (his/her) job, yeah? Could you put in a good word?"

"Not gonna be mad at you hanging out with Avery," Carmilla glances back and forth. "But wouldya tell (him/her) to bugger off?" Carmilla pauses as you look at (him/her) expectantly, waiting for clarification. "…Uh, I'm… Allergic to (his cologne/her perfume). Yeah."

"Robin's your childhood pal, right?" Carmilla asks. "I think you two look absolutely adorable together. If it comes down to (him/her) or me though… Choose (him/her), would you? I dunno, (she/he) just seems like the type of person who'd be too heartbroken."

"Alex is a sweetie. Sometimes I help (him/her) out with the livestock." Carmilla smiles. "You should be just fine with (him/her), (he/she)'s like a puppy."

"A wolf… I see." Carmilla snickers softly. "I see you have a type. If you ever want, I can getcha some meat to feed the pack."

"Great Hawk… Doesn't ring a bell." Carmilla tilts (his/her) head, but seems keenly interested. "But… Chicken is a classic, I suppose."

Carmilla rarely, if ever, initiates non-consensual encounters, but if they do, a higher pain and stress stat often increases their arousal heavily. They get annoyed at submissive or meek actions, and will actively try to provoke the player. Consensual encounters also focus on pain, but in this case, submission is the best route. Afterwards, they will insist on bandaging your wounds, increasing both love and caution and reducing pain to 0. After a consensual encounter, Carmilla has a 50% chance to ask embarrassedly to lick your wounds, to which you can accept (+love +lust -caution) or deny (+caution). After a non-consensual encounter, they will always do this, increasing pain and lust.

Low love, high lust, and 0 caution will trigger their dismissal event. They will try to call you to their home and ask you a series of questions a la the promise rite with Sydney—Failing even one question means they'll approach you with a cleaver. At that moment, Bailey enters with bodyguards a la the hookah parlor. Carmilla is seized and Bailey hoists you to your feet and threatens that not everyone is so benevolent as them. They take you home, and Carmilla goes 'missing'. You can break into the now empty butcher shop once a day with an easy skulduggery check for meat, because Carmilla still had advance shipments of meat and electricity. You will no longer be able to sell your lurkers to them, though.

However! if you either refuse to visit or get the questions right, Carmilla will back off and apologize—The former with an "I'm not thinking straight, sorry." which will buy you another week to raise love and caution again and can be repeated indefinitely; and the latter with "I can't do this anymore… I'm sorry." as they collapse into your arms and hug you, greatly increasing love and caution.

If you think it'd be fun for you to have a little blurb written about any love interest OCs you have like the ones I have for the canon LIs, don't be afraid to shoot me an ask because they were REALLY fun!

Also, they have a playlist! And a pinterest board! They're both works in progress as of writing them, but they'll be done soon.

[awriterinthenight]

"I'll be less reckless, I promise"-Anthony Lockwood

requested: almost-gabrielle

words: 1240

warnings: mentions of blood, torture, Lockwood being an idiot and super reckless, reader being mad at Lockwood, cute little fluff at the end, this is a bit shorter than usual I don't know why I guess it just turned out to be shorter

summary: When Lockwood's recklessness gets him in trouble you have to save him, then bring him home and patch him up from his injuries

Stupid stupid Lockwood.

He was always too reckless, which led to many issues that we always had to fix. But this was a new type of recklessness. We had been offered a job that seemed a bit odd, but we took it since we needed the business. Me and George had wanted to do more research since we weren't exactly sure what we would be walking into. But, Lockwood being his reckless yet genius self, he decided to go on the job even though me and George advised him to wait till we discovered more.

We were sifting through papers when something caught my eye. There seemed to be a slip up in one of the documents, which showed the building wasn't owned by an old man like originally thought, but rather an angry relic hunter who's name I recognized from a few stories among agents. This man was known for luring agents onto a job, then using them to get a source to sell, or to try and find one he was already looking for.

Immediately I ran out and grabbed my rapier and some flairs tucked into my jacket, as I made my way to where Lockwood was. Luckily the building wasn't too far away from where we were, so I made it there in record time.

I slowly crept my way into the building, sneaking in through a window and down to the main area. I saw signs of struggle leading to a room in a corner. Making my way over there I noticed a small bit of dried blood, making me nervous.

When I made it over there it wasn't so much a room, but more of an area closed off by tarps. I peeked through an exposed part, looking into the spot where I saw Lockwood tied up to a chair. The man was in front of a table, his back to me, as he seemed to be preparing something.

"Just tell me where it is, and I'll let you go," the man said maliciously.

Lockwood's head seemed to lull a bit to the side, "For the third time I don't know what you're talking about," he lied, his breath a bit shaky.

The man chuckled evilly, "Oh, you know what I'm talking about. The little bracelet who recovered a few days ago. I'd been scouting it out and had buyers lined up, but you had to come in and ruin everything, didn't you," he said through gritted teeth, "But, if you can remember, then maybe I'll just have to jog your memory a bit," he said, smirking as he turned around a knife now in his hand.

At this moment I froze scared at what was about to happen. I tried to think quickly which led to me pulling out a flare and lighting it quickly, then running in to throw it at the guy. I just barely missed, only scraping his ear, as I aimed for his head. Fortunately though it was just enough to startle him and make him drop the knife.

"Don't move," I commanded, pointing my rapier straight at him. He stayed there unmoving before unsettlingly smirking.

"Come here to save your boyfriend, what's a kid like you gonna do," he said, underestimating me. I looked around for a moment before seeing a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I grabbed it without a second thought and dumped it all over him, keeping my rapier pointed straight at him.

I pulled out my lighter, flicking it on, "Move, and I'll light you on fire," I threaten. His confident facade seems to fade, as I move to untie Lockwood. I successfully free him, and the moment I do, we run like a bat out of hell. I could hear the man's footsteps as he followed after us, but we were faster, and able to get out through a broken window before he caught up to us.

Once we were a safe distance away, I found a pay phone and called for a night cap, since we were too worn down to walk home. Lockwood was resting on a bench seeming to try and stay conscious.

"Alright, thanks," I said, hanging up the phone as our cab was on the way. I moved to stand in front of Lockwood, "How could you be so reckless. Me and George warned you something was off, and to not go, but you just had to prove us wrong, and go on the bloody job. You should be happy that you're lucky to be alive. If I wasn't there you would've-" I don't get to finish my lecture before he cuts me off.

"I know, I'm sorry love," he says, reaching out a hand and placing it on my waist, "I was reckless, and I should've listened to you, but can this please wait till we get home, please," he says, his head hung low.

I let out a sigh, "Alright, but once we get home you are in for the lecture of a lifetime," I tell him.

Lockwood smiles softly, "I'd expect nothing less," he says, his voice low and tired. We wait a few minutes as our cab arrives. The driver questions Lockwood's state, to which I just lie, saying how we got back from a particularly rough case. He buys the excuse luckily and our cab ride back home is silent.

When we get out I have to hold Lockwood up as we enter the house. I put away my rapier and kick off my boots, as Lockwood does the same, but leaning against the front door. I help him up the stairs and to our room, where the moment we sit down on the bed he collapses into my arms. I hold him tight, placing a small kiss on his forehead.

"What's wrong?" I ask, even though I know that's a dumb question.

He lets out a shaky breath, "Everything. I messed up, and I didn't listen to you. I'm sorry. And everything hurts and my head is pounding," he admits.

I sigh, running my hand through his hair, "Wait here, I'll be right back," I whisper to him softly. I go to the bathroom where I grab the first aid kit and some pain meds. I return and start to patch up his wounds.

He settles me between his legs, his hands holding onto the back of my legs. I disinfect the cuts on his face, trying to soothe him every time he tries to hide a small whimper from the pain. Eventually I finish disinfecting and I bandage him up, running my hands delicately across his face, as he relaxes to my touch. I give him the pain meds which he takes gladly.

We both get ready for bed as he asks, "Aren't you going to lecture me like you said you would?" while getting comfortable in our bed.

I sigh, running my hands through his hair, "No, you're in enough pain. I'm sorry for yelling at you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It's okay, you shouldn't be apologizing. I'll be less reckless from now on," he says, leaning over to place a kiss on my forehead, "I promise."

I lay my head on his chest, as his arms move to wrap around my waist. We stay like that till we fall asleep. Pleased to be in each other's company knowing that we're both safe in each other's arms.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Here’s a crossover fic idea, Pokémon reader gets sent to stardew valley by Arceus for some strange reason, causing them to take a job as a farmer with their Pokémon. However, the reader has to hide their Pokémon from the townsfolk since they don’t know how they would react to their pocket monsters. Though eventually certain townsfolk (the male bachelors and Krobus to be exact) will eventually learn the truth depending on how close they are to the reader. The reader’s Pokemon team consists of Herdier, Gogoat, Mudsdale, Vespiquen, Blaziken and Oinkolonge (the female form).

"Does thou understand thy task?"

"I-I still don't know why I'm even doing this. What's my purpose in coming here? Pokémon don't even exist-"

"Once more I shall reiterate: Achieve Perfection, and come to the Summit. You will find me waiting."

"I..don't know what "perfection" even is! Why did you send me to this place?! Why did you choose-"

The sound of a rooster's loud caw made your eyes snap open, realizing that you were having yet another bizarre dream.

You sighed, waking up and rubbing your eyes, before checking the time.

6:00 AM.

"Oh well..time to make breakfast and get to work." You muttered to yourself, stretching out your limbs before getting out of bed and starting the day.

No time to muddle over your dream.

But you knew for certain that your encounter with the mythical Arceus--the God of all Pokémon itself--was no dream the first time around, as it decided to send you to this strange new land..

A land called Stardew Valley.

You didn't think there was any special reason it chose you. You've just finished schooling in Paldea and had plans to travel the world with your Pokémon. Although apparently god itself decided to fling you into an entirely different world..not one where Ultra Beasts nor Giratina existed.

But rather a world where you quickly realized Pokémon didn't even exist.

It was just you and your team: Herdier, Gogoat, Mudsdale, Vespiquen, Oinkolonge, and Blazkien--your start who's been by your side since your Pokémon journey began back in Hoenn.

You were thankful Arceus sent them along with you, or else you probably would've lost your mind at this point..

The moment you were dropped down into a dilapidated farmland, you quickly realized that you had to make a new home for yourself here...and as you've gotten acquainted with the locals in the nearby town, you also learned how to make some good profits.

Farming wasn't something you expected to do in your journey, but what other option did you have?

Besides, your team adjusted rather well to the roles you've assigned them: such as Oinkolonge sniffing out truffles, Vespiquen and Gogoat ensuring your crops were growing well, Herdier digging up bones and artifacts for you to sell, donate, or gift, Mudsdale helping you get around town on horseback, and Blaziken aiding you with the physical labor and being your bodyguard in the mines.

When you've heard rumors of monsters dwelling there, you assumed Pokémon and became eager to catch some....only to discover that they weren't even Pokémon at all--but rather hostile creatures that had no types or weaknesses you could exploit.

Your Pokedex and pokeballs were basically null and void.

So again, you had to adapt. This time you needed to sharpen up your combat skills, even though Blaziken was able to take them down pretty easily without you ever lifting your sword.

That was one problem taken care of.

The other...involved the villagers who don't know what a "poke-man" is, the majority thinking you were insane for going to the mines. You've become close friends with a lot of the guys over the past year or so, and while they've seen you, Mudsdale, and Herdier together, you never told them you were a Pokémon trainer.

For all they knew, you were just someone from Zuzu City who owned a "unique" dog and horse. They didn't know you came from a world entirely different from theirs.

They were wary of anything new--including yourself--and were especially terrified of the monsters, hearing nothing but rumors and horrible things happening to people in the mines.

What would they think if they discovered you owned "monsters" of your own who had special powers? You had no idea if they'd be scared of you..and everything you've done to build up friendships with them would come crashing down.

But a few hours later, while you and your companions were preoccupied with their outdoor tasks, you failed to notice one of the guys was approaching the farmland.

And you had little time to react to their presence before they spotted one of your Pokémon...

.......

Alex

He just wanted to see if you're up for playing gridball, and instead stumbles upon your Blaziken breaking apart a large stone with their kicks.

It was the most efficient way you could help them train, while at the same time gathering resources to store for later.

"Woah..what the heck are you?!"

Alex's shout scares you, and you throw down your watering can in a panic, running over to explain-

"Hey, hey..no need to freak out." He laughs. "Is this one of those "Pokémon" you were talking about? Why does it look like an oversized chicken?"

"Ziken?"

His face pales. "Did...it just talk to me??"

Seeing no other way to hide this, you eventually tell him more about Pokémon, trying your best to explain the concept of evolution to the jock.

At first it just...flies over his head, but once you draw it out for him, he gets the gist of it.

"So you're saying that..Blaziken started out as this weak and small Torchic, but got stronger through rigorous training?"

"Yep, pretty much."

"Hey, that sounds like me! I used to be a scrawny little kid, too, but look at me now! On the road to going pro!" Alex smiles at your starter. "Looks like you already achieved that yourself. Awesome job." He gives them a fist-bump, and is thrilled when they understand the gesture.

Learning how strong their kicks are inspires him to work on his own leg routine (which he admits to neglecting).

He absolutely wants to invite Blaziken to play gridball with him....as long as they don't get too excited and accidentally scorch the ball with their flames.

If you ever bring Herdier over to his grandparents', them and Dusty will become best buds real fast.

Sam

He randomly decided to stop by your farm to give you a gift--as a way of thanking you for helping him write a new song.

But at first, he doesn't notice anything wrong with your Oinkolonge playing with a truffle crab she dug up.

Until he sees you, pauses, looks back at her, and says "wait do pigs normally look like that?"

Shit.

You thought he wouldn't notice since his head was in the clouds 99% of the time.....but right now it wasn't.

And ofc she's kinda tired to hiding all the time and walks right up to him.

Sam isn't sure where that floral scent came from, although after it began making him sneeze, you had to politely recall Oinkolonge and apologize.

He just looks so bewildered, and stares at your other Pokemon...yet he didn't freak out like you expected.

Maybe Oinkolonge's ability still made him calm, so you took this moment to explain your team to him, reassuring him they're harmless.

"What? Scared? Nah, I was just...they remind me of this one game Vincent started playing."

"Oh? And what's that?"

"Junimon. You basically collect these Junimos with different powers and fight other monsters, with some attacks being more effective than others! It's pretty rad."

"....that's literally how it is where I come from. But it's no video game. We coexist with them."

Sam's mind=blown.

He wants to tell Sebastian and Abigail about your Pokémon so SO badly...but your Vespiquen physically blocks him from running/skating away from your farm until he promises you he won't say a word.

He made sure to write it down, of course.

It's something he 100% doesn't wanna forget.

Shane

He overheard that Marnie recently sold you a blue baby chicken, and he wanted to come over and see how the little guy was doing in your coop.

However, upon arrival he stumbles across your chickens being surrounded by Blaziken, the blue one standing on their shoulder.

"Farmer where the fuck did you get a chicken like that?"

"Holy SHIT Shane I didn't know you were there!" You sprint over, seeing the wide-eyed look on his face.

"Please tell me I'm not hallucinating. I haven't even had a drink yet but-"

Before he could start going on a rant and/or leave, you encourage him to stay so you can explain everything about Blaziken and your Pokémon team.

Like Alex, he's not gonna understand a whole lot about it, but he gets the gist of it.

You debate on telling him that Pokémon eggs just "spawn" and walking is the only way to hatch them. No incubators needed.

He has some questions, obviously, but not the ones you expected.

"So Blaziken..just combines "blaze" and "chicken" together?"

"Uh yep. Pretty much."

"....are there other chicken-based Pokémon where you come from?"

Whenever he visits the farm thereon, he'd always check up on Blaziken and the chickens, impressed at how many they were able to raise.

During the winter, they're a personal heater for the babies--although sometimes Shane worries about them accidentally burning the barns/coops down.

He also might forget that your starter isn't 100% chicken, and the one time he tried feeding them hay instead of berries....they weren't impressed.

Your secret stays safe with him, even when he goes to drink.

Elliot

He's definitely written some short stories and poems about the monsters in the mines/skull caverns you talked about, even creating new characters inspired by them!

Oftentimes he silently envies the thrilling adventures you've had and wonders if his life will ever become that exciting (without all the danger and peril of mining, ofc)

While hanging at the saloon, you maaaaaay have let it slip that you owned Pokémon, but you don't remember how much you shared.

Fortunately, it didn't negatively affect your friendship with Elliot, as he comes to your farm to see these creatures for himself.

"Oh my...!"

The first one he meets is Vespiquen, and you SPRINT over to him in a panic, clothes dirty and your face sweaty.

"Elliot! Don't scream! She's just a..uh...ah....a-a really big bee-!"

"Farmer, why would I ever scream in the presence of royalty?"

"..huh...?"

You stand there, utterly dumbfounded as the writer greets your fearsome bug type, treating her like a princess and admiring her growing collecting of honey and flower garden.

Vespiquen, being the haughty and prideful lass she is, eats up his praise...and continues to every time he's visited your farm since.

Okay, so you might've told him too much about your Pokémon team, but you're grateful he didn't get too scared.

Or think you were crazy.

But it's gonna be a bit of a problem when you need Vespiquen to focus on her tasks.

Even if you're visiting his beach house or hanging out in the library together, you could feel her pokeball shaking within your bag, eager to be let out.

Elliot joked that she was simply "buzzing" with excitement, and you just groaned.

Krobus

The shadow monster always dreamed of the day humans and monsters could live in harmony, but fears that it'll only stay that way: as a mere dream.

Well...one winter night that changes when he visits your farm under the cover of darkness, and Blaziken instinctively comes out to protect your land.

The familiar screech of a Shadow Brute has you rushing out the door, sword drawn, only to instantly recognize Krobus--who was about to get Fire Punched into oblivion.

"Blaziken, stop! That's my friend!"

"...blaze?" They stare at you, still holding the poor little monster in their grasp.

"Please, trust me. Don't hurt him."

Krobus is bewildered and scared..yet amazed at the same time.

This human has tamed a monster and can speak to it??? Not to mention you have several of them once he visits your coop and barn.

After you've explained the concept of Pokémon, he grows to understand them better, and forgives Blaziken for attacking him.

Obviously you didn't wanna tell him you used them to fight his "friends" down in the mines.

Initially, he was horrified by the idea of pokeballs being used to "imprison" them, despite you reassuring him that they roam freely almost 24/7.

Although when you're down in the sewers one day, he proposes a rather humorous question.

"Is the inside of a pokeball comfortable for them?"

"It is. It's well-insulated but..wait, don't tell me..." You see the look on his face, the way his eyes went to the pokeballs on your belt. "Did you wanna try going inside one? Thought you despised the idea."

"I did, but..if they help your monsters get around town discreetly, maybe..they could help me. The crocus are blooming nicely this winter, and I've been wanting to pick them myself."

"Sorry Krobus, but they don't work."

"Why not?"

"...because you're not a Pokémon. It'll just bounce right off of you."

"But I am a monster, though???"

"That's...not really how it works-"

"Didn't you say they were discovering new ones all the time in your world?"

Eventually, you entertain the idea of catching Krobus--and he's disappointed when you're correct, as the pokeball bounces off his antenna and almost rolls into the sewer waters.

You get a good laugh out of it, and as embarrassed as he is..it was worth a try.

Sebastian

Another day, another argument with his family...another reason to get out of that house and be as far away from the mountains as possible.

There's no better place for Sebastian to retreat to than your farm.

You two have become close friends at this point, even though you have yet to actually tell him about your Pokémon.

While playing Solarian Chronicles with him, Sam, and Abigail, you'd play the role of a summoner (which was the closest thing to "trainer"), with some of your creatures being inspired by your main team.

Ngl Seb was impressed by your character sheet.

When he decides to come over one random day after that fight in his house, Gogoat is tilling the soil with their hooves--and you're too occupied planting seeds until he says something.

"Woah..I've never seen that kind of goat before."

You jump, rushing over to explain everything....only to see that he doesn't look freaked out by any means. Nor did he seem upset that you kept this a secret.

Then again, he regularly visited the mines and thinks the Skeletons are badass, so you weren't sure why you were freaking out.

In the end, he just has genuine questions about your Pokémon, and you answer them honestly.

In your pokedex, you show him some of the frog-based ones. And he immediately likes Politoed.

You introduce him to Blaziken, who tries gifting him a frozen tear you had stored in a chest, only to pout as it melts and evaporates instantly.

It makes Sebastian laugh a little--and you did a double take bc you've never heard this man laugh before in your life (and you don't deny that it made your heart skip a beat).

"I appreciate the gesture, Blaziken..thanks." He smiles, already feeling better.

As an apology, your starter lights his cigarette with a small flame, and he's stunned.

"Wow..what can't you do?"

Harvey

Like any good town doctor, he just wanted to visit your farm to give you a checkup, knowing how hard you must work to keep things running smoothly.

At your last appointment, you mentioned having "helpers", and he was certain that meant the animals you purchased from Marnie's ranch...

Not "animals" that don't look anything like animals he's seen in the valley or in Zuzu City.

He almost screams at the sight of Vespiquen staring menacingly at him while she's guarding the beehouses, and you rush out of your house before the poor bachelor faints.

"Calm down, Harvey! She's..uh..t-totally harmless!"

"..hh..harmless..? She--it...wh-what exactly is she, [y/n]? What am I looking at right now???" He looks to you with the widest and most terrified eyes, begging for an explanation. "Is she some monster from the mines??"

Try as you might to explain your Pokémon to him (even as you calmly introduce him to the rest of your team), that first impression left his nerves shot for the longest time.

No matter where he goes, Harvey couldn't stop wondering why you owned such bizarre creatures--and even at work, Maru begins to see that he seems extra nervous when around you.

But she assumes he has a crush on you, which is partially true.

As time goes on, though, he starts to understand your team better and acknowledges that despite their looks, they are kind, reliable, and protective partners.

He won't reveal your secret unless you're ready to. But he's impressed you've managed to keep them underwraps for so long.

When he learns Vespiquen's Heal Order is the reason you return from the mines/skull caverns with nary a scratch, he apologizes to her personally for screaming.

As long as you don't tell him you were sent to this world by the Pokémon equivalent of Yoba, you're golden.

[iamnmbr3]

Cursed Child rant? as a treat? 👉👈

Oh god. Where to even start. Listen, I know some people enjoy CC and I say more power to you. I'm not here to be the fun police and say what people can and can't like or write fic about or derive meaning from or whatever. But for me, personally, Cursed Child is an absolute mess of the worst kind that irritates me on a profound level.

First off, it's completely inconsistent with the canon characterizations and established rules of world building (and JKR didn't even do that much world building so there wasn't that much to keep track of and yet, they couldn't even bother to do that). I mean, Cedric, who tried to give the Triwizard Cup to Harry doesn't win and that somehow causes him to become a Death Eater??? Huh? It's not just ooc. It's bad storytelling. I mean, even if he was a hugely sore loser why would losing a tournament cause him to join an extremist blood purist paramilitary group? That has nothing to do with him losing. It's stupid and childish and nonsensical and SO bad.

And really? That's the best you can come up with? If the point of that whole thing was the tired trope of 'time travel goes wrong and makes things worse' they could've just had the gang expose Crouch earlier but instead of Voldemort not returning he just ends up returning but not using Harry's blood which allows him to do his original plan of growing his power in secret. And idk. Maybe then he takes over and he kills Harry and Harry doesn't come back. I didn't even put any effort into that. It's a bit dumb and inelegant but it gets the job done without wild character assassination and a lack of logic so profound it would insult the reasoning abilities of a fungus.

But ok, let's judge it as its own vaguely Harry Potter inspired thing rather than as an actual sequel to the canon series. You know what the result is? IT'S STILL BAD. It's just. SO BAD. I don't understand how it's a real thing.

It's like a parody of a bad play. It can't possibly be real. Harry suddenly has a phobia of pigeons? Why??? It's so...stupid. And I'm supposed to take that seriously? What? And the dialogue. The dialogue. "Bad" doesn't even cover it. The fact that "Wow. Squeak. My geekness is a-quivering" is a real actual line in the actual play causes me physical pain. WHO WRITES THAT?! AND THEN LEAVES IT IN THE FINAL DRAFT?!?!?

And Delphi. WHAT EVEN?! She's literally like a parody of a bad fanfic Mary Sue. Down to the blue streak in her hair. But we're supposed to take her seriously? As a villain? Tf? She's like a bad Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way knockoff. The whole play is like an unfunny parody of bad writing. But it's not supposed to be. It actually pretends to be a genuine drama. Which is so much worse. I truly think My Immortal is better. And way funnier.

No effort at all went into the story construction. Characters act incredibly childishly and unrealistically and simplistically. The story doesn't feel like it was written by adults. There's no feeling or depth or emotion. It's all plot contrivances and nauseatingly simplistic writing. It isn't a story. It's just some stuff that happens. Because the writers were just like 'eh it's Harry Potter it'll sell.' And that's not art. That's just churned out content. And it bothers me on such a profound level that they did it and got away with it.

I would be embarrassed to write that for myself, let alone to turn that in as a professional writer. It's so inconsistent with the original story that I legitimately think the 2 guys who wrote it didn't even read the books. They just glanced at the wiki and decided they were good to go. Despite being PAID to do this. How sloppy is that? Not to mention Harry Potter meant so much to so many people who were ecstatic to get more content yet the two clowns who wrote this just skimmed the wiki and then vomited out some of the worst lines ever penned in history and called it a day.

[egirlkelly69]

ᵍᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ [shigaraki x fem¡reader] -> wattpad

¹~ˢᵗᵃˡᵏᵉʳ

They were watching him again. He could feel the looming presence of eyes focused on his lanky figure. This was only the 3rd time this week he had noticed eyes, but he had experienced it countless times for at least three months, yet was once again unable to catch onto this stalker.

Part of him was worried it was a hero catching onto him but so far he hadn't shown his face as all for one's successor so the chances of that was practically zero.

Shigaraki had been out for ten minutes, only walking along to the nearest corner shop for some ramen and it seemed as if the cashier was the only person out for at least a few blocks. The streets were empty and it was pitch black.

It was the same every time, no one around yet someone there, just hidden.

He was starting to think they had an invisibility quirk.

The door chimed as he pushed his way inside the brightly lit store, immediately heading towards the same products he always bought as if it was muscle memory. A stack of pot noodles, a few cans of energy drinks and a couple little sweet treats.

He quickly made his way to the front, only paying to lessen the publicity on his trail. He couldn't risk getting caught over petty crime and a few yen, not when he was settling down to plan his next moves with the league.

After chucking the notes and coins down on the counter top and placing the goods in the thin, crumpled plastic bag, he swiftly turned to leave, bumping into someone behind him.

Normally he would kill anyone who wronged him, but again to lessen the publicity of his existence he just snapped out a dry, "watch it."

"Oh shit- sorry," she replied, instinctively throwing her hands up in front of her chest in apology, allowing her hood to ride up, exposing her messy fringe

Not that he could really comment on others appearances when he barely took any care of his own but she was a mess.

"Whatever," he continued his exit, but was caught of guard by her conversation with the cashier.

"Please, I need this food,"she pleaded, leaning over the small mound of goods placed on the counter.

"There's nothing I can do miss, if you don't have the money I can't sell it to you, sorry"

"I can pay in a different way, my quirk can heal any injuries you have, please I'm begging you I need to eat."

Healing quirk huh? That's interesting.

"Sorry it's not worth losing my job over,"

Without thinking shigaraki turned and walked back up to the girl, standing over her, before slamming one of the notes from his pocket down onto the counter.

"here." He said dryly, scratching at his neck.

She spun around to look at him, "thank you,"

she's too close

He took a step back, but not before getting a glance at her face.

Her hair was in fact a mess and needed a brush, but she had a layer of mascara and black eyeshadow coating her eyes (a bit of which had smudged down her cheek), and glitter in the inner corner. The makeup didn't match her outfit which consisted of a black hoodie, patterned fluffy pyjama pants and crocks.

She smelt nice too

He didn't want to continue the conversation, not even knowing why he started it in the first place. Who was he helping people when he was supposed to be on the path to becoming the most feared and powerful villain.

Shigaraki turned to walk away as she packed the items he had paid for into the same flimsy plastic bag he had been given.

His walk home was more of a stomp. He was trying to cool his temper from the whole interaction and his anger at himself for even paying that girl any attention. Why did he even care that she couldn't afford food, it's not exactly as if he had the funds himself right now.

---

"Welcome back tomura shigaraki"

That pissed him of. He didn't even have a reason. He was just pissed of. At himself, At that girl and at everything.

"Pour me a drink." He demanded slamming the door behind him before heading to the bar stools and taking a seat.

He slumped over the table, itching at the already raw skin on his neck.

Kurogiri swiftly grabbed the almost empty bottle of the counter behind him and the glass below the counter. His movements were precise as if he was a robot programmed to serve.

"What has you so pissy tonight?" Dabi taunted, making a rare appearance to see what the banging around was about. He wasn't surprised his boss was being like this. Shigaraki was always throwing tantrums about something or the other.

The drink that had just been poured was thrown right over his shoulder in the direction the raspy, burnt voice came from.

"Right, okay then," he threw his arms up in disbelief at the act of aggression, acting as if he hasn't been searching to get a reaction out of his boss before retreating back to bed.

Without another word shigaraki also left the bar to his room to drown himself in shit video games and junk food for the rest of the night. A distraction that wasn't good enough to allow him to forget the encounter.

I'm giving the first chapter, pls lmk feedback and read on wattpad! I will update regular 🫶🫶