#this company now drains me enough that I don't even have will to write or draw

[risuola]

I got offered a promotion... it's great, I'll earn more but also I'll be rooting myself deeper into the hellish corporation that is my workspace.

[drtyelvisfantasy]

SAVE YOUR LOVE

LINEMAN!RAFE X STRIPPER!READER AU

note: Thank you to all who sent in questions about my au. I really appreciated it🩷 if any of you have any more questions, feel free to send them in 😊 I promise to write some more happy stuff for this au soon lol

summary: You and Rafe finally have a baby together, but things don't go as planned

warnings: childbirth, pregnancy, toxic relationship, yelling, feelings of abandonment, swearing,

The physical changes of the pregnancy took a toll on me, leaving me feeling exhausted and drained every minute of the day. I eventually had to stop working at the strip club when my bump became more noticeable. Rafe promised he would help me find a new job. He said he knew some people down here in Vegas, and he managed to secure me a position at a construction company, creating schedules for the workers. Although the work was boring and the pay was much lower than what I was used to as a stripper, it provided enough income to support myself and the baby. The hours were manageable, and I found some sense of stability in this new job.

Instead of meeting at the hotel like in the past, Rafe started coming by my apartment. His visits were less secretive, yet a sense of unease and tension still hung in the air.

“Are you staying the night?” I asked, my voice laced with a mix of hope and hesitation.

Rafe walked over where I was sitting on the couch, his expression unreadable as he considered my request. “Yeah, I’ll stay for the night.”

“Do you think you’ll be here for the birth?” I pressed, trying to remain calm. “I think it would be good for both of us if you came to the hospital with me.”

Rafe didn’t seem happy, his voice flat. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I can’t make any promises. Things are complicated right now.”

I felt a pang of disappointment. I thought this pregnancy would make things better between us, would force him to become more invested, but clearly, I was wrong. He seemed so uninterested, almost detached from the whole thing.

“I mean, would you at least try to make an effort to be there?” I asked, desperately seeking something from him.

Rafe sighed, avoiding eye contact. His voice remained neutral, but I could hear the reluctance in his words. “I just told you, I don’t know. I’ve got a lot going on. But... I’ll try my best to be there, if I can.”

Even though Rafe didn’t know if he’d be around for the birth of our baby, at least he did his part when it came to the nursery, leaving the decorating to me. He made it clear that it was “a woman’s job.” He might’ve pitched in with some of the more physical tasks, like putting together the crib, or perhaps offering some financial contributions, but the creative aspect of the nursery was entirely mine to handle.

A few months back, when the doctor revealed that the baby’s gender was going to be a girl, I was excited. I had always told Rafe that if we were to ever have a baby, I wanted the firstborn to be a girl, and now that dream had come true. However, Rafe didn’t seem nearly as excited. His tone remained indifferent as he stated that he didn’t care about the gender as long as the baby was healthy.

-

The months of pregnancy were emotionally draining. Rafe’s unpredictability and inconsistency only added to the stress. Sometimes he’d show up, but his presence felt more distant than comforting. Most of the time, I faced doctor’s appointments and navigated the challenges of pregnancy alone.

“I have one last doctor’s appointment before my due date,” I told him.

Rafe nodded, his expression remaining unbothered. “Oh yeah, right. That’s next week, right?”

“Yeah… will you come?” I asked, hoping for some show of support.

Rafe hesitated for a moment, then gave an indifferent shrug. “Sure, I’ll come.”

“I was thinking we could do a bit of shopping before the baby gets here, you know? We can buy her some cute little dresses.”

Rafe’s expression started off indifferent, but a small sigh escaped him. His shoulders sagged slightly as he replied, “Yeah, I guess we can do some shopping. But forget it, I don’t care for all that pink stuff. You know I like the more natural colors.”

“Oh, come on, pink is essential,” I teased him, trying to lighten the mood.

Rafe rolled his eyes, a slight hint of annoyance in his voice. “Essential? You’re going to make our baby look like a walking cotton candy or something?”

“Yes, and she’ll be the cutest cotton candy to ever exist,” I replied playfully.

After the doctor’s appointment, Rafe and I went to a few stores to pick up some last-minute necessities. He followed me around, slightly frustrated, bearing with the shopping trip. He picked up some items with a hint of annoyance, mostly focusing on the practical things.

“Oh, Rafe, look at this! Isn’t it adorable?” I gushed, holding up a tiny Hello Kitty onesie for him to see.

I held up the onesie, but he barely spared it a glance. “Yeah, it’s cute,” he mumbled, his tone flat and uninterested.

“I’m going to get it,” I said while walking to the checkout line.

Rafe nodded, his expression betraying his lack of enthusiasm.

-

The birth went smoothly, thanks to the epidural. Rafe had come down to Vegas a week before the due date to make sure everything went smoothly. And while he wasn’t exactly bursting with excitement, there was a hint of anticipation in his eyes when he saw his baby girl for the first time.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” I said, my voice calm but full of affection.

As Rafe looked down at our newborn daughter, a flicker of admiration sparked in his eyes. His voice, softer than usual, added, “Yeah, she is. And she’s ours.”

“I’m going to name her Margaret. A beautiful name for a beautiful baby,” I said, my heart swelling with love for her.

As Rafe heard the name I chose, he nodded, his expression neutral. But there was something in his voice, a subtle approval. “Margaret, huh? That’s a nice name. Definitely better than some of the other ones you had thrown around earlier.”

“Oh, stop it,” I laughed, rolling my eyes playfully.

Rafe smirked, a hint of teasing in his tone. “Hey, I’m just being honest. Some of those names you suggested were ridiculous.”

“Do you want to hold her?” I asked, wanting him to have a moment with our daughter.

He hesitated for a moment, his usual confident demeanor faltering. “Uh, sure. I guess I can hold her. Just for a minute.” As Rafe held the tiny baby in his arms, his expression softened. The usual boldness melted away, giving him a tender tone. He spoke to her in a sweet voice, his words filled with awe. “Hey there, little one… You’re just a tiny little thing, aren’t you?”

-

Initially, it seemed like things might improve after the baby’s birth, especially when I came home from the hospital. However, over time, Rafe’s behavior changed back to his usual, uncaring demeanor. The brief baby bliss he displayed in the hospital quickly faded.

The phone rang for a few moments before Rafe picked up, his voice slightly irritated as his usual nonchalance seeped through. “What’s up?”

“You promised you’d be here a week ago. Where the hell are you?” I asked, frustration lacing my words.

Rafe sighed, clearly annoyed by the question. His voice remained apathetic as he responded. “I told you, I’ve been busy. I’ve got things to deal with, you know?”

“You have a daughter now. I know you’ve got a wife and two kids back home, but you can’t just abandon us like this,” I said, my voice shaky but firm.

Rafe grumbled, his irritation sharpening his voice. “Abandon? I’m not abandoning anyone. I’m just handling things with my family. I can’t drop everything just because we have a kid now.”

I stayed silent for a moment, processing his words. Does he not think before he speaks? Does he not realize how much his words sting? “Okay, Rafe. Well, make sure you come by... please.”

His tone softened slightly, but his voice remained neutral. “Alright. I’ll swing by in a few days, okay? Don’t keep nagging me about it.”

Six months have passed since Margaret’s birth, and she’s growing cuter and bigger each day. Yet Rafe’s behavior remains unchanged. He continues to act distant, rarely showing any real interest in me or the baby. Rafe is at the apartment again. I thought it would be a calm visit, just the two of us, so he could spend some time with his daughter. But it seems like we can never be around each other without arguing.

“Seriously, can you just relax? You’re being overdramatic about everything,” Rafe says dismissively.

“I’m not being overdramatic! You’re barely here, it’s like we don’t even exist to you,” I snap, unable to hold back the frustration anymore.

Rafe rolls his eyes as he gets up from the floor, where he was playing with Margaret. His voice laced with anger. “Oh please, just because I’m not here 24/7 doesn’t mean you don’t exist to me. I’ve got another family back home. I can’t just ditch them for you.”

“That’s not the point!” I shout, hurt and angry. “At least make an effort to show you actually care. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s fine, but at least try to be in your daughter’s life.”

He groans in frustration, clearly annoyed by my point. “I do show I care, alright? I provide for you, don’t I? And I’ve been over here plenty of times to see her. What more do you want from me?”

“I want you to be a man,” I yell, my voice shaking with anger. “I don’t even know how you can call yourself a father!”

Rafe’s irritation boils over as Margaret starts to cry from the shouting. He shoots me a glare before shouting back in an authoritarian tone, “For Christ’s sake, stop yelling! You’re scaring her!”

“You should blame yourself for this,” I snap, my voice cold. “If it wasn’t for you, this argument wouldn’t have started.”

Rafe’s patience snaps. His frustration morphs into full-blown anger. He steps closer, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to. I’m the one paying your rent, so you better watch your fucking tone. ”

“Or what?” I challenge him, my heart racing.

His eyes narrow, his voice more menacing. “Or you’ll regret it. I’m warning you, don’t test me, not when I’ve got you living under my dollar.”

Rafe walks past me and storms out of the apartment, and the moment the door slams shut, I let the tears fall down my cheeks. I try to hold back my sobs, attempting to stay strong for Margaret’s sake, but the weight of the argument makes it impossible. The situation has reached a breaking point, and I can’t help but wonder how things have gotten so out of control between us.

[solarstranger]

CHAPTER 1 | ALL OUT OF LUCK

w.c. 3.3k

tags. fem!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged-up (26), some cussing, this chapter is pretty mild so not many tags are necessary (buckle up for the ride, though)

a/n. here it is, y'all! the product of pursuing my random brain child that one fated day in november 2024. this has been my biggest writing endeavor yet, and i worked so incredibly hard on this, from conceptualizing to penning it down to editing it until it was decent enough to post. so i sincerely hope my love and excitement for this fic translates into my writing. i'd absolutely love to hear what you think, so please don't be a stranger and talk to me! enjoy <3

links. masterlist, ao3 (coming soon)

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think someone with a time-slowing quirk is manipulating this shoebox of a room they unceremoniously stuffed you in with nothing but this middle-aged, bearded man roughly 30 minutes ago.

If 30 minutes is even an accurate approximation.

The said man is clicking away at his keyboard behind the desk in front of you, humming a non-descript tune, and, having already studied the room that seems to be an abandoned office, you take the opportunity to clock him. Aside from being around his mid-40s and sporting a full-grown beard, there’s something about him that rings the metaphorical alarms in your mind, signaling some sense of familiarity.

And it’s either you need to work on your subtlety or he’s just plain out observant, because he must have noticed your staring, shifting his gaze from his laptop screen toward you, mouth formed in a friendly smile. “Getting antsy?”

“I—” you start, before trailing off. You weigh your options for a second, before settling with: “It’s hard not to be, sir. Would you care to tell me what I’m here for?”

At that, the man merely purses his lips in a thin line. “Unfortunately, it’s not my place to say. I was just assigned to meet you here. At least,” he checks his silver-plated watch, “until further company arrives.”

You feel yourself frown. “And the men who arrived out of nowhere and fetched me from my apartment?”

He nods, “They were simply assigned to get you, yes.”

A burning question bubbles right up your throat, but you tamp it down, thinking better against it. It’s too soon, you think. You have to dig a bit deeper. And so instead, you finally prod at that inkling from a moment ago that’s been vying for your attention.

“Have we met before, sir?”

That must’ve been the right thing to ask, because the man visibly lights up. He swivels on his office chair, turning a bit so that he’s now fully facing you. “Why, yes! I thought you wouldn’t remember.”

You toss him the most genuine smile you can muster back in courtesy, but also to goad him into continuing. You hope that’s enough for now. “From a while back, right?”

“Yes!” he enthusiastically responds, whatever document he was working on now completely forgotten. “I was one of your earliest escorts until the commission relocated me overseas. I just got reassigned to you for this project, you see.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

However, you don’t get to revel in how you successfully coaxed information and confirmation out of him without lifting much of a finger, because he quickly realizes his mistake. He splutters as you watch the blood drain from his face, and you can’t help but feel bad for the man.

“Don’t worry,” you offer with that placating tone you’ve mastered over the years. “I won’t tell them you just said all that.”

He eyes you suspiciously, as if he’s debating whether or not you’re saying the truth, and you’ve half a mind to use it on him just so that the sole person you’re stuck in this jail-like space isn’t looking at you like you’re after his head, but you don’t get past considering that because the only set of doors bursts open and in comes an all-too-familiar face.

The both of you whip away from your stare down to look at the unannounced guest, and you instantly stiffen when you get a good look at the person leading the group.

Clad in a two-piece slate gray suit, the head of the Special Quirks department of Japan’s Hero Commission waltzes in, seemingly decades older than the last time you saw him. It hasn’t even been five years since, you think, yet he’s aged so much. Trailing right behind him is the woman you vaguely remember trailblazing the Missions committee, hair pinned up in a no-nonsense low bun and sporting a navy blazer and skirt combo.

And, perhaps in an effort to ground yourself in the face of impending danger that always came with the two, you’re about to look down at what you’re wearing in comparison, which, you recall is a baggy T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants you never intended for people to see you wear, when it happens.

You lock eyes with the third and last person entering the room, and instantly it’s like you’re doused with a sobering bucket of ice-cold water at the same time someone lights a fire under your ass. One glimpse at his firey gaze has your brain screaming at you to look away—anywhere, anywhere but at him—and pretend that didn’t just happen all the while mentally willing him away from existence, but you find yourself frozen in your seat.

Bakugou, who’s dressed casually in a plain black shirt and loose jeans, stares right back as he follows the two officials. You’re the first one to break eye contact, and words aren’t uttered as the guy from earlier scurries out of his seat, offering it to Asahi, the man in the gray suit, who accepts it thanklessly. Moriyama takes the seat the underling drags next to Asahi, and Bakugou plops himself down on the one around a foot to your left, the both of you now facing them.

“Thank you, Tanaka-san,” Asahi says, finally breaking the silence. The familiar escort who you now remember as Tanaka only bows at him, before standing silently to the side.

At that, Asahi shifts to regard you, the corners of his lips twisting upwards in what you think is an effort to smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. With both arms on top of the hardwood desk and hands clasped together, he clears his throat.

He says your name as a start, which sends an eerie tingle down your spine. “Long time no see, huh?”

You don’t know how to reply to that, also acutely aware of the man beside you, so you merely nod.

“We apologize for dragging you here on your day off,” he continues, “It must’ve been quite jarring—having our men be at your doorstep.”

You fight back the urge to ask him how the hell he knows it’s your day off today, deciding in the last second you don’t want to know the answer. Frankly, you wouldn’t be shocked if he said they’d been keeping tabs on you and that they even know what brand of underwear you wear.

“I was surprised, I’m not gonna lie,” you respond, voice small. And just because you’re over this whole suspense factor, you cut to the chase. “What’s this all about, Asahi-san?”

“Skipping the pleasantries, aren’t we?” he chuckles, and you resist the itch to scowl at him. You never liked the guy—although you think it must have to do with all those extreme assessments he made you take growing up. To your relief, though, he relents. “I’ll get straight to it, then. We have an important mission for you.”

And as if you weren’t already stiff enough, you feel yourself tense even more, and the action doesn’t go missed by Bakugou, whose eyes you feel boring into the side of your face.

Asahi takes your stunned silence as a cue for him to go on. His gaze drifts to the pro-hero beside you, a knowing smirk decorating his features. “I trust that you’ve met?”

Despite yourself, you chance a glance at the ash-blonde, only to find him already looking at you. You feel yourself flame as he studies you with mild recognition, as if he’s seen you before but can’t quite figure out where.

Bakugou finally speaks up after a beat, voice gruff and eyes remaining locked on yours. “UA Gen Ed, same batch as me, right?”

“Y-yeah,” you reply dumbly, surprised he even remembers. “And you’re pro-hero Dynamight.”

To that, he gives you a curt nod, donning a serious expression as he turns back to face Asahi. “Go on and brief her about it already. I ain’t got all day.”

“We’re getting to that, Bakugou,” the old-ish man retorts, seemingly unfazed by the pro-hero’s impatience, before readjusting his focus to you. “As I’ve said, we’re assigning you to a very crucial mission. We got word yesterday that an up-and-rising quirk supremacist group is planning an attack somewhere in the city.”

“A-attack?” you croak, “Who’re they gonna attack?”

“That we’re not sure yet,” Moriyama joins in on the conversation, her countenance stern. “But we’re guessing quirkless individuals or people with weak quirks. We won’t know for sure, though, unless we get people on the inside.”

“And that’s where you two come in,” Asahi finishes, eyes darting back and forth between you and the man beside you. “You’re going undercover.”

You gawk at him, suddenly robbed of all words. From the corner of your vision, you sense Bakugou side-eye you, and that’s all the warning you get for what he’s about to say next.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, prominently exasperated by the entire situation. “‘s like you’re feeding a sheep to the fucking wolves.”

Instantly, you feel a sense of indignation wash over you at the comment, which is immediately followed by the familiar feeling of resignation.

You’ve gone through these motions before. Over and over again, in fact.

And normally, you’d let snide comments about the status of your quirk slide, like you’ve been taught to the entirety of your life, but apparently this time that’s not an option.

Because Moriyama gives him a pointed look, as if chastising him on your behalf. You don’t dare to check how Bakugou’s receiving it, but you’re assuming not well.

But before the pro-hero can say something in his defense or provoke the woman, Asahi interjects with a good-natured laugh. “Slow down there, hero. Don’t get too cocky now that you just got named Vogue Japan’s Bachelor of the Year.”

Bakugou doesn’t miss a beat. “Shut the fuck up.”

With a dismissive wave of a hand, Asahi continues. “And no, I am not making a reckless move here,” the middle-aged man peers at you, “This woman right here has a special quirk.”

At that, you steal a glance at Bakugou, and the look on his face betrays the thing he’s evidently trying hard not to say.

‘What’s so special about this girl from Gen Ed?’

He manages not to blurt that out, though, instead going for: “How special?”

“Let’s just say it’s because of her that departments like mine exist in the commission.”

“Quit being fucking cryptic,” Bakugou spits out, just as you say: “It’s really not that special, though.”

That catches his attention, and you feel yourself shrink when his intense, crimson eyes land on you. You, however, fight to maintain his scrutinizing gaze when he pipes up. “What can you do, huh?”

“I—”

“How ‘bout you show him, dear?” Moriyama cuts you off with a knowing smile.

You don’t get to argue because the woman promptly sends Tanaka off to the door, and the four of you watch the guy as he rushes out, leaving you in a few moments of silence, before hurriedly walking back in with a nervous-looking young man in tow.

You decide then and there that you really don’t want to do this.

“An intern, Moriyama-san,” Tanaka announces in front of you with a booming voice, gesturing to the person beside him. “Just as you requested.”

“The hell do we nee—”

“Go on, Y/N,” Asahi encourages with a quiet voice, which you note is in an attempt to not be heard by the poor intern.

The poor intern who’s gaping at #2 pro-hero Dynamight, looking like his soul just left his lean body.

Your gaze shifts between the pro-hero and the young man, and you sit watching the silent exchange unfold before you. You can tell Bakugou is getting annoyed by the unabashed attention of someone who’s likely a fan, and the latter isn’t looking all too hot.

And so with reluctance, you do it.

“Hey,” you call out to the intern, who whips to look at you after another attempt when he doesn’t respond to the first.

“Wha—” he starts, but trails off when you decisively tug on the imaginary strings, and in a split second, it’s like the nerves that were just frying his system a beat ago get washed off his body, his face morphing to that of tranquil calmness in a blink of an eye.

You toss him a tight-lipped smile as he stares right back at you, serene and perhaps a tad bit confused, although you doubt someone not privy to your ability could recognize it on his face.

“Amazing, isn’t it?”

You turn to look at Asahi, who’s now leaning back on the office chair with a proud grin on his face, as if he’s the one who just did the demonstration.

You try to suppress the mild annoyance at the sight of him.

You reason to yourself that he’s the one who made all this possible, after all. He deserves to be proud of the stunt you just pulled, at least to some extent.

And just as quickly as he entered, the intern is promptly ushered out of the area by Tanaka. Once the door clicks closed, you then shift to examine Bakugou, who you quickly find is already staring at you, an inexplicable expression etched across his sharp features.

“You make people calm, is that it?”

“Oh, she can do much more than that, boy,” Asahi boasts. “She has the ability to tamper with any person’s emotions. She can diffuse or exacerbate existing ones or transform them into another affect entirely.”

“But very few people know that, Bakugou,” Moriyama adds with a warning edge to her tone. “It’s why the commission took her under its wing at such a young age. It’s why—”

“You disguised her quirk as something else and made her take the Gen Ed route.” Bakugou finishes with such certainty that catches you off guard, despite being well-versed in the fact that he is insanely perceptive.

You would know. Really, you would.

Because that’s one of the main reasons why you liked—

“It’s so that the wrong people don’t catch wind of her and her quirk, Bakugou,” Asahi supplements. “It’s for that very reason we’ve named her quirk as luck instead of manipulation. Which is what you’re going to do undercover.”

“What’s he gonna do, exactly?” you ask, tilting your head to gesture to the pro-hero beside you.

“He’ll infiltrate the group alongside you, dear,” Moriyama answers. “He’s one of the best heroes we have, and well…”

She glances at Bakugou with such hesitance that juxtaposes the confidence she’s been sporting this entire exchange, before continuing. “…We’ve heard this group has been eyeing to recruit Bakugou, specifically.”

You almost choke on your spit.

Recruit the #2 pro-hero of Japan?

What kind of stupid agenda is that?

To your surprise, Bakugou doesn’t say anything in response to Moriyama’s weighty statement, his usually penetrating gaze fixed on the ground.

“He’ll make sure you’ll be safe, Y/N,” Asahi furthers. “He’ll introduce you to them as a useful tool, what with your ‘luck’, which you’ll tell them works by boosting the chances of success of the people you’re working with. And, given how your quirk actually operates, Bakugou here will emphasize your importance by requesting for their protection of you, so that you can get closer to the people you’ll need to manipulate.”

“How’s he gonna do that without raising suspicion?” you can’t help but ask.

“That’s the thing,” Asahi quips, before heaving a deep sigh. “At this point, there’s no saying for sure, but you’re gonna have to be ready to play the part of a couple if the situation calls for it.”

“A c-couple?” you barely manage to get out.

To that, Asahi and Moriyama only nod at you with such seriousness that you can’t find it in you to protest any further. Still, you try to express your uneasiness.

“I don’t know—if I can pull that off. I—”

“You have your quirk at your disposal, Y/N,” Moriyama assures you, to your chagrin. “You’ve trained hard enough to know when and how to use it.”

Well.

There’s not much left for you to do than nod in resignation, especially with the finality of her tone, so you do just that.

None of you says anything for a brief moment after that, a rather tense silence enveloping the tiny office. And you’re about to ask them one more time if they’re fucking sure about all this, but Asahi beats you to it.

“Do either of you have any more questions?”

You open your mouth to try again but this time Bakugou speaks first. “I do. Let’s say shit goes down and we have to engage this shitty ass group in combat. Does she know how to fight? You know, beyond just playing with emotions?”

You feel yourself bristle, and before your brain can catch up and rein you in, your mouth is already running off. “I’ve had extensive close-combat training, actually. So worry about saving your own ass, hero.”

Bakugou doesn’t get the chance to spew something right back at you, though, because Asahi cuts the tension with a booming laugh. “She actually has, Bakugou. Like I said, we’ve been training her since her quirk manifested.”

“Really?” he asks, a little bit too sarcastically for your taste. “And what’s in it for you, huh, Y/N?” the pro-hero turns to regard you, tone riddled with just enough taunt to make your blood simmer. “Why’re you going along with their whim?”

“They pay well,” you state as simply as you can. “My job as a guidance counselor isn’t exactly the most lucrative.”

“That we do,” Asahi chimes in before Bakugou can drop any borderline degrading remark, which you’re thankful for. You don’t know if you can handle any more backhanded comments from the man you used to fucking dream about way back in high school, who—apparently—also happens to be the man you’re gonna have to pretend you’re dating if things go south.

“If you don’t have any more questions,” Moriyama interjects, “There’s one last thing. We don’t expect them to go lax on either of you despite what you can bring to the table. So anticipate restrictions on your speech and movements—there’s a high probability that they’re gonna place bugs and trackers on you. The same goes for your online footprint.”

At that, you and Bakugou wordlessly nod in unison, the gravity of what you’re about to get yourself into finally sinking in. Shortly after, Moriyama goes through a few more technical details before announcing that they have another meeting to attend, and just like that, and with a promise to get in touch soon albeit clandestinely, she and Asahi exit from the very door they entered what seemed like an eternity ago.

Leaving you and Bakugou.

Alone.

Which is something you’re going to have to get used to for what lies ahead.

But that shit can wait until tomorrow, when the mission officially starts.

And so with much vigor, you quickly gather the purse you barely managed to bring with you when you got dragged out of your apartment earlier this evening, and stand. Bakugou’s head tilts up to look at you when you turn to regard him, an eyebrow raised in question.

“What?”

You force a smile. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Bakugou-san.” Not. “See you tomorrow, then.”

And, before he can say anything in return, you spin on your heel and leave without looking back.

˗ˏˋ while likes are appreciated, they don’t do much on tumblr! if you want to support me and writers in general, reblogs, replies, and tags are the way to go. feel free to drop an ask, too—i’d love to chat. have a nice day! ´ˎ˗

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hello again and thank you so much for including my idea in one of your previous posts!

I have an angluffy (angsty+fluffy) scenario in my head that’s been sitting there for a while. Disclaimer: it is quite specific, so I totally understand if you don’t feel like writing for it or want to modify this. Also, I would love to read about all the spouses (Vanilla, Expanded and Ridgeside), but this is a lot of people so if this scenario picks your interest feel free to modify the list or publish it in parts.

The idea goes like this:

There was an invasion on Stardew Valley. The Gotoro Empire attacked without giving anyone as much as a chance to escape. All seemed lost, and it would have been, if not for the bravery and quick thinking of the Farmer. They rushed to the hudge battle robot that empire troops were using in the attack and placed a bomb underneath it. The village was saved, but sadly, Farmer didn't run fast enough to escape from explosion. All that was left of them was an arm, separated from the rest of the body. Or so everyone thought.

The numb, limp body was found by Krobus, who managed to save Farmer’s life, but at a cost. Village’s hero had spent year in a coma, got their arm replaced with a iridium prosthetic one (courtesy of the Dwarf) and, patched up with shadow magic, are no longer fully human. [my ida of it: one eye is black, skin is paler, and parts of flesh are replaced with shadowy smoke, but make up whatever visuals suit your vision]. Changed, confused and weakened by a year of sleep, the first thing Farmer does is going to their partner [any level of romantic relationship; spouse, boyfriend/girlfriend, or - my personal favourite - they were about to give Farmer the mermaid pendant just before the invasion started]. How would that meeting go?

Daaaaamn, that's some dark headcanon right here.... Sure thing! ✨✨✨

Hope you don't mind if I write in this ask about the vanilla and SVE spouses. Also this headcanon turned out more angst than fluff, so I hope you don't mind that either. Thank you for the ask, and have a good day! 💖

Warning: angst

_________________________________________

Stardew Valley:

Harvey

Another nightmare that Harvey woke up in a cold sweat. He was breathing hard, trying to calm down and pull himself together, to chase away the bad thoughts. No sedatives or sleeping pills helped him, the same nightmare.... Where his smiling spouse turns to face him and dark flames overwhelm them as Harvey stands there, unable to do anything. The doctor was about to go to sleep again (trying, at least), but he heard the doorbell of his clinic. Who had come to see him at this late hour.... Usually the only person who visited his clinic in the middle of the night was-

"Harvey, it's me..." He collapsed senseless on the doorstep.

Sam:

Sam has never heard his mom scream like that. No, not the kind of scream where a disgruntled Jodi was once again trying to get through to her son, sitting in his headphones, who had promised to clean the house. The soul-crushing, ear-splitting scream he usually heard in horror movies. The guitarist instantly rushed into the living room, where his mother was in, ready to protect her from whoever caused her screaming. And there she was, pale with terror, standing motionless while Vincent stood behind her, crying and trembling. Both looked toward the front door, where stood a strang-

"Sam, is that you?"

Farmer. It was Farmer.... The one everyone thought was a dead hero was standing right here in Sam's house. He was speechless. It can't be...

Elliott

Elliott hardly ever left his little cabin. In the past, the writer could often be found in the Saloon, draining a glass of wine in company. Now he is but a shadow of his past self, ever since Farmer... died defending the Stardew Valley from enemy invasion. No desire to write anything, no desire to do anything, or even to leave the house, just... nothing. When Elliott found out what had happened to them, part of him died that day. It went on like that for six months until the residents stepped in, trying to help him. And the writer seemed to be doing better, but for the last month, as the date drew closer to the day Elliott lost Farmer a year ago, he was getting worse and worse.

Opening the door one rainy day, he thought that once again the residents had come to him almost by force to drag him into town, but what was the point-

"Honey, it's me..."

Elliott stared in mute shock at Farmer standing before him. When he realized that it's not a ghost or a hallucination, he fell to his knees, kissed their hands and sobbed, praising Yoba for his beloved's return.

Shane

First came shock. Shane couldn't believe what was happening, it couldn't be.... Farmer stood before them, alive and well, except for the fact that they had a bandage over their left eye and no right hand at all, it had been replaced with.... Metal? A device? Shane didn't know. He slowly touched their shoulder, looked into their face, heard their voice.

"It's... It's you. You're alive, alive... Where... Where have you been?!" Then came anger and pain. Farmer is alive... And they didn't deign to tell him?! It was later that they could explain to Shane that they were in a coma, but for now the chicken man choked on his own tears and shouted at them.

Sebastian

"Sebastian, it's me. It's okay, I'm alive, I'm okay..." Farmer could feel their lover hugging them tightly with a dead grip, shaking nonstop. He wouldn't let them go, afraid that if he let go of his lover again, he would lose them already forever. Like when he blamed himself for not being more assertive in his argument with Farmer that they should all hide in the basement of his house. That fateful day for the Valley, when he'd let go of their hand and watched them run toward the seashore, to defend his native valley from a robot sent by Gotoro. How heartbroken he was to learn that after the robot exploded, all that was left of Farmer was one severed arm...

"Sebastian..." He was shaking, and his eyes became wet with tears. He didn't let go of their embrace for a long time yet...

Alex

Alex's first meeting with Farmer after a year of separation, pain and trying to move on, ended with the athlete punching his lover in the face, right in their healthy eye, untouched by dark magic unlike the other one. He didn't mean to do it, but he was so badly frightened and confused by Farmer's appearance, who had been presumed dead, triggered his hit-or-run reflex. Thankfully Alex didn't punch them hard, though still weakened from the year-long coma Farmer fell to the floor. Alex looked at them with horror, realized what he had just done, and apologies spilled out of his mouth with sobs. The farmers quickly came to their senses and tried to calm their lover down. But Alex hugged them tightly and cried harder.

They are alive... And the first thing he did was to hit them....

Abigail

Everyone told Abigail it was time for her to stop chasing the illusion. Stop trying to do her own investigation of the place where Farmer was last seen. To stop arguing in raised tones with her father, trying to prove that they hadn't found Farmer's body, which meant there was no proof they were dead. She cried in her mother's arms, who comforted her daughter but tried to gently tell her that it was time for her to move on. But Abigail continued to believe.

And she was right, when Farmer with their face slightly disfigured from dark magic stood before her, she ran up to them and hugged them tightly, sobbing, she was right!

Leah

"Stay away from me!" Leah shouted, her hands that held the sculpted hammer as her only means of self-defense treacherously trembling. The ginger young woman took two steps back, keeping her gaze on.... Farmer? Was that really.... her beloved Farmer? Many features exactly the same as her deceased lover's, but their right eye... A huge hole from which a black as tar liquid dripped, running down their cheek. Their left hand, made of a metal that was unfamiliar to her.

Leah continued to stand there trembling, not knowing where or who to run to for help.

Emily

Strange, but Emily has had practically the same dream.... How she is running after a red bird that leads her closer and closer to the forest, and just as the blue-haired woman reaches the edge, she sees someone who remotely reminds her of... Farmer, the stranger turns around.... and Emily wakes up. She can't figure out what it means. Her dreamers interpret various things: that the spirit of her dead lover is trying to warn her, or that their "coming" is a sign of good news. And that edge of the forest looks all too familiar.... On one such night, she decided to walk towards the forest from memory, and noticed near the sewer someone coming out... A small dark figure that hid in the thicket having spotted her from afar and...

*sob* "It''s a sign... I knew you were alive."

Farmer, barely standing on their feet and weak, looked in surprise at Emily, who ran towards them, hugging them and knocking them down accidentally. Her dream was prophetic, she had found them, Farmer was alive...

Penny

As soon as Penny stepped out of the farmhouse to meet the guest who was banging so loudly on the door, she stood in a stupor for half a minute, trying to realise who or... what stood before her. A stranger whose body parts were completely non-human, but whose facial features were... "Penny... Is that really you?" And... that voice. The voice of the person she'd been mourning for a year now. The voice that had sworn their love to her as they both stood under the wedding archway and held hands. The voice that had made she realise...

Penny let out a heartbreaking scream, and fell to the ground, senseless, only to hear the voice of her frightened spouse call out her name before her vision went dark.

Maru

Maru refused to believe that her lover had died. Yes, she and the others had seen that huge crater where Farmer had last been at that moment. Yes, she had seen with her own eyes their bloody body part, which was lying far away from the crater, thrown away by the blast wave. But their body (it hurt Maru terribly to even imagine Farmer like that) had not been found, which meant that it was impossible to say that they had died. The young inventor continued her search, scouring the valley, trying to find a clue or a logical explanation. Her family and friends thought that Maru's grief had simply caused her to deny reality and cling to this idea, thus trying to cope with the loss of her lover. But...

"I found them!" *sob* "I- I found them!"

...seeing her, with tears on her cheeks, holding Farmer's metal hand, who stood and were very much alive, realized that the young inventor had been right all along.

Haley

Honestly, Farmer knew their lover's reaction would be very strong. After all, Haley (and everyone else in the Valley) thought they were dead (they themself thought they were dead). Until they woke up without their right eye and arm. What Farmer didn't expect was that when he walked into Haley and Emily's house, half the dishes would fly at them. Poor Haley, who was alone at that moment, thought she was being haunted by ghost and was so frightened that she threw plates, forks, bottle and other kitchen stuff, then fell to her knees. Farmer cautiously approached her and touched her hands gently, showing that they were not a ghost, but a living person.

"Where have you been..." No one was to blame for what had happened (except Gotoro), but Farmer felt a prick of conscience when they heard how broken and weak Haley's voice was.

Stardew Valley Expanded:

Magnus Rasmodius

"Magnus-" Farmer didn't even have time to utter their lover's name before they felt that they had lost the power of speech and their body stopped obeying. They stood as dumbfounded, unable to move as the old wizard approached them with slow steps, his left hand making gestures unknown to them, while his right hand was enveloped in flames, ready to sizzle the threat at any moment. The harsh look of Magnus' violet eyes pierced through, but there was nothing Farmer could do. After standing under Rasmodius' gaze for a long and agonizing minute, Farmer felt the invisible ropes finally loosen, allowing them to move again.

"It's really you... You're alive..." Tears streamed down Magnus' wrinkled cheeks.

Victor

Victor's inner voice shouted that he should run. Run without looking back, away from the creature standing right in front of him. From this unknown monster who, either to torture him for their own amusement or to blunt his instinct for self-preservation, had taken the form of his dead lover of a year ago. The one he was about to declare his love to with a mermaid pendant. The one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Victor must run, run as fast as he could, call for help, run run-

His heart shouted that it was them.

Victor ran towards the Farmer, hugging them tightly. And he couldn't hold his crying when they hugged him back.

Lance

"Name." Striking a fighting stance, Lance bared his spear, ready to defend himself against the possible threat that the mages of the Gotoro Empire had sent him. Their enemies went to the most desperate and despicable lengths, even stooping so low as to use necromancy. "Your name." Reviving fallen adventurers with dark magic that disfigured their bodies, but the overflowing happiness of the fallen man's friends didn't notice until it was too late. He keeps his guard up, keeping Farmer away and demanding answers, buying time until backup arrives

*sob* "I'm... I'm [name]. L- Lance..."

The adventurer's heart clenches when he heard a familiar voice... He need to stay focused.

Sophia

After Sophia's lover fell to the death of the brave, for the sake of protecting her and the entire Valley, she hardly ever left the house, only filled bottles coming out of her vineyard. Recently has she been able to move on after the death of her parents, as she has once again lost the people she holds dear. Gus and Scarlett visited their friend, trying to comfort her, but the pink-haired girl withdrew into herself, unwilling to talk to anyone. One such day, the same day that exactly one year ago Farmer died, someone knocked very insistently on the door of her house, and Sophia, overwhelmed with grief and anger, opened the door and wanted to shout to be left alo-

"Sophia..."

She immediately fell silent, staring in horror at the features of a face so familiar to her. And screamed, running back into the house and huddled in a corner, unable to stop sobbing as Farmer tried to soothe her in every way they could.

Olivia:

Farmer had no sooner said anything to Olivia upon their meeting after a year of separation, than they immediately had to catch the poor woman fainting from shock. And what did they expect - absolutely everyone in the valley believed that their dear friend and Olivia's failed spouse was presumed dead, only a severed arm could be found at the scene of action, which was buried. The former Joja accountant mourned her spouse again, and now they were coming into her house, with a bandage that covered their eye, with a hand that was as cold as ice to the touch, but... alive.

"How did you- What happened... We thought- I thought you were...." Olivia finally woke up and enclosed Farmer in her arms, choking on her own tears and sobs.

Claire

If it wasn't for the lack of job opportunities, Claire would have quit her current job a long time ago and never come to Stardew Valley again. This place has become like home to her, the residents are very friendly, and supportive of Claire as a member of the community. But it's too hard for her to return to this town, to walk past the monument in honour of her deceased lover every time, to look at the place where Farmer was last seen alive.... It's all very hard for her. Returning late from work to the bus stop, she promises herself she'll quit tomorrow.... and feels someone take her hand, calling her name gently.

Claire jumped, as she knew that voice well. The girl looked closely at the stranger's face in the near pitch darkness and wailed in a way that made half the town jump from such a heartbreaking scream.

Scarlett

"AAAAAAA!" As if poor Scarlett could be understood: considering that Farmer had been presumed dead for a year, the girl certainly hadn't expected to see their ghost. At least that's what she thought they were, scared out of her wits and threw the first thing she could get her hands on (some iron tools) at them, causing the Farmer to get an iron kick in the leg, yelp and a bit of indignation. Scarlett realised it wasn't a ghost after all, and upon realising this she was overwhelmed by a whirlwind of emotions. Is that the Farmer?! Yoba, her lover is alive! But... what with their eye? What happened?! And why didn't they contact her sooner?

Scarlett will get her answers (some of which will raise more questions), but... she's just incredibly happy that Farmer is alive and, well, relatively okay.

[woundedsoul12]

From our discord writing prompt- Illario and Lucanis post game banter. This also mentions my M!Shadowdragon!Rook and his brother.

I have been writing for the Mercar Trio for awhile and I adore them. I have finally established enough of Rook's story in the Closer series to move on with this

Lucanis sighed as he placed his hand on the door of Illario's study. Once, he almost lived in this wing of the Dellamorte Estate. He and his cousin had been more like brothers, and he longed more than anything to go back to that time. 

He hoped, for his sake, that Rook was right about their plan. 

“Cousin!” Illario was just a little too enthusiastic to see him as he draped across his chair with his feet over the armrest. He looked the picture of perfect ease, though Lucanis could see how his eyes flashed about the room. 

Wants an exit. Just in case.  

He ignored Spite's low growl beside him. The demon had promised to behave. For Rook. But Lucanis kept his hold on his control tight just in case. 

“Illario. You seem well,” he nodded as he took a seat across from his cousin. He wanted to appear non threatening. Friendly maybe. 

You do a bad job. 

Ok so maybe his hand hovering next to the daggers at his thigh was a bit too obvious. 

“Oh come now,” Illario chuckled as he swirled a glass of Antivan Brandy. “I'm sure you didn't come here just to explain pleasantries, cousin.” 

Lucanis hated that knowing look. How Illario could always read him so easily. Could even finish his sentences sometimes. 

“Actually I came to discuss the wedding,” Lucanis began. To his cousin's credit, he simply smiled at the topic. 

“Ah yes. The impending nuptials between Thedas’ most eligible bachelor, and his assassin abomination-” 

Blood and ash. Let Spite have him. 

Lucanis’ hands clenched at Illario's words, but he kept his breathing even. Both to keep Spite calm and himself. 

“Yes, my wedding to Rook,” he just agreed as he didn't want the tension. But he couldn't avoid allowing one dig at his cousin. “And with one Dellamorte wed, the other houses will be curious when our- fallen member will also be settling down.” 

Illario choked on his drink, though cleared his throat and regained his composure. 

“I'm sure the other houses are lining up to take that role,” he chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. “But I'm not interested. In marriage or any sort of arrangement.” 

“Actually,” Lucanis couldn't help but smile as he saw Spite bouncing with glee. Delivering this news was going to be the best part of his day, he decided. “The other houses have turned down all negotiations. From both myself and Caterina.” 

Illario jumped to his feet, face shocked at his cousin's words. Being rejected was a new concept. He was Illario Dellamorte. Men craved him and women pined for him. How dare they- 

“That is why Rook has a plan.” Lucanis was enjoying this way too much. He was reminded of when they were younger. When they would torment each other across the estate. Always in trouble but always having each other's backs. Illario would come to realize this really was what was best for him, in time. 

“I don't want to hear of any plans,” the man spat as he made a dramatic show of slamming his glass on the table beside him. “Whatever you and Rook have cooked up, leave me out of it-”

“Caterina has agreed.” The words were quietly spoken, and the color immediately drained from Illario's face. “She has already made the necessary arrangements with the Viper. You will meet your intended at the wedding. So please, try to behave.” 

A mix of emotions flitted across Illario's face. But he finally settled on a sneer as he placed his hands on his hips. 

“You could at least tell me her name,” he grumbled. 

“His name is Brick. And he is Rook's brother,” Lucanis stated as he stood to leave. He had enough of his cousin's company for one afternoon. And Spite was in way too good of a mood as he watched Illario sink back into the chair. 

Illario ran a frustrated hand through his hair as the door closed behind Lucanis. This was almost as bad as his fall from grace. He was trapped with no choice but to accept the proposal. He would have to cooperate. He wouldn't cross Caterina again, and he wanted to remain in the good graces of House Dellamorte and the other Crows. 

“Mierda!” He took his frustrations out as he threw his drink against the wall. The glass shattered, and he huffed as he racked his brain for ideas. 

But suddenly, it came to him in a flash. 

“I will just have to make him want to break it off,” he mused with a devious grin. Yes, that could work. They would have to accept if this Brick rejected him. 

Brick, what kind of dumb Minrathous name was this? Hopefully he was as unappealing as his name, because Illario hated admitting how lonely his bed had been lately. 

“It will all work out,” he reassured himself. He would just have to make himself unlikable, which seemed to be his specialty lately. 

Now, to set his plan in motion. 

[devochive]

Hey! I know you've heard this before but the way your write Caine???? Actually mouth drooling omg, you're writing is fantastic,

If it isn't too much trouble, I was reading the drabble with Caine and the affectionate reader and how he's practically willing to drop anything at a moments notice to tend to her. I'm super into that concept omg so how about an idea where they are like mid adventure and the reader is pretty much just super needy throughout the entire adventure and goes to seek out Caine for relief?

Love you, tysm~ 💖

thank you so much. im so glad you like it 🤧💗💗 and of course !

-------

Caine had made a habit out of being by your side almost 24/7, and you absolutely loved it. You adored him and his attention. It was the only thing that made being stuck here worthwhile. As much as Caine loved your company he also thought it would be healthy to have you go on a few adventures alone. Unfortunately you were being somewhat of a brat about it.

"Come now, dear, just for today! You must intact with the other circus members to keep that pretty little head of yours screwed on right!" His voice had that usually charismatic ring to it, but you've been around him long enough to realize that he was becoming a little frustrated as well.

"Don't wanna! Wanna stay with you, Caine!" You sat down right in front of his feet. Refusing to move in an act of protest.

Caine sighed, and if he had a nose, he'd be pinching the bridge of it right now.

He picked you up under your armpits and sat you on his lap. For a moment, you were overjoyed until he shifted the position and made you lay across his lap. You immediately began to squirm.

"Keep still dear, unless you want this to hurt more hmm?" He hummed and rubbed your ass.

"N.. No, m'sorry Caine, I... I'll go on the adventure!"

He brought his hand down on your ass hard and fast and you yelped, clinging onto his pant leg. "Are you sure you'll stop being a brat? I'm only trying to help you dear, and here you are throwing quite the tantrum!" Another smack, then another.

You whined and squirmed, sputtering out apologies as he rubbed your sore ass.

"Good, good! How wonderful that we could see eye to eye." You could feel your panties sticking to your cunt, and that unmistakable feeling of Caine's erection pressed against your leg.

But he opted to ignore it, "Now darling, let's get you up and adam!" He said and helped you to stand correctly, licking your tears off of your cheeks. "Ready, dear?"

He said and nodded, still sniffling a little.

It had been about thirty minutes into the adventure and your cunt was still throbbing from earlier, you knew Caine purposely left you in these soiled underwear on purpose and the thought made your frustrated! He .. he had to take responsibility. Plus you didn't even want to be away from him in the first place.

"If looks could kill, y/n.." Jax muttered, noticing your determined expression. "What's your panties in a bunch, huh?"

"Oh! Jax, i.. it's nothing.. can you help me though, I want to find Caine." You knew he out of all people could find him, one way or another.

"Oh yeah? What's in it for me huh?"

"Jaaxxx.. please!" You whined and tugged at his arm.

"Ugh, fine.. fine." He rolled his eyes , clearly bothered by your whining.

You were desperate, taking the shortcut that Jax pointed out, and you promised to keep it a secret. "C.. Caine..? Caine!" You called out as you burst through the door and into a what looked like a cafe filled of mannequins. Caine and Bubble occupied one of the tables.

Caine's eyes quite literally popped out of his head, "Y/N, what in my name are you doing here!?"

You felt like many eyes were on you, artificial or not it made you flustered. You squirmed a little, your confidence seemed to drain from you.

Caine cleared his throat and everyone went back to their idle conversation as he approached you, "What's the meaning of th—" Oh. He could practically smell you.

"N.. Need you, Caine.. please.. can we leave..?"

"My, my, what am I going to do with you?" He said and easily scooped you up into his arms, "Still leaking from earlier, is your mind that occupied with me, my dear? It seems you're in for another round punishment.. and much more, of course." His voice got low just then.. and you pressed your legs together.

Knowing this would be more satisfying than any adventure ever could.

[franki-lew-yo]

All the problems I have with Princess and the Frog come down to serious story-telling issues, a weird feeling of hostility(???) for the film as a whole from within it's own production, and ofc the sheer annoyance I have with 2D purists gushing over how it's better than Moana, Tangled or Encanto simply because of the 2D animation. Hate that. Hate hate hate. Get over it. Tadashi >>> Ray the firefly.

I've heard a wide range of opinions from Louisianans, black people and vodou practitioners on this film representation-wise. Some reviews are really positive, some not so much but all of which I find interesting and help broaden my understanding of why people could love this movie for more than just aesthetics. I've seen some legitimate shade, possibly/probably not all of it, but shade. -I will say even without the implications, Tiana should have never become a frog though. It's not like she learned anything from it the way Kuzco had to a llama or Kenai did as a bear. Add that to the writing decision/animation fan simping decisions that I hate- BUT I think it's really cool that we have a black American princess movie. I'd like more to be honest. You can never have enough princesses after all. BIPOC people deserve to feel represented and wanted and white kids could benefit having BIPOC characters to look up to. I know I did with Lilo and Mulan as a kid. Liked Belle and Ariel too but come on who beats Lilo and Mulan?

tl;dr: If your defensiveness over PatF comes down to you feeling better represented, that's genuinely great and PLEASE don't let me take that from you because I never mean to! So I'm fickle abt the writing in it that doesn't mean you have to like the cultural drained same-face 2010s Didney films I liek. So long as we all agree Tiana and Naveen are better than Lottie we have all we need.

Anyway, again- it's a crime to cancel Tiana's show.

The ride I think genuinely disappointed everyone but to that I have to ask: WHO'S FAULT IS THAT, DISNEY? You could have literally kept splash mountain as is but gut the three racist Brers and slowly inch more PatF in. Is that "censoring the past" by continuing to ignore that Song of the South existed? I don't know. Maybe(??). I don't want to be thinking positive for Disney's (the company, not the artists) sake, but I do think PatF would have not only fit it would have been a good chance to move forward rather than keeping racist characters around. It's all we wanted. It's all ANY OF US wanted. Instead they opted for bad animation scenes and that weird "it's the movie but it's not"-schtick they're making all their IP rides into. No Lewis-shaped boats. I'm upset. But hey it's only year one. Let's keep going forward...let's see how that show turns out I mean the Tangled series was really cool and Tiana's was gonna be in the style of the movie itself this is gonna be-

And now it's canceled.

If ANY part of this decision is made on account creepy antiwoke types and their stupid "if we can raceswap Ariel WHY NOT DO THE SAME THING WITH TIANA DOYOHDhhhooo"; which I'm not convinced it isn't, I'm pissed. Tell me you're racist without telling me you're racist. Give your black character the show she deserved.

On a moral side I find it QUITE dubious that that's the first show to get the axe--

On a "dear god PatF fans are annoying and won't shut up about how their movie's better because 2D!!!", I'm also dreading this. Now more than ever people are going to insist that their precious handdrawn masterpiece was unwanted and unloved all because the show would have been in ''2D and that's all that matters''. That's not what matters.

Hyping up and promising millions of people that their hardworking black Americana frogprincess, who was going to be human more on screen this time, who was going to have her own show as a restaurateur//bayou magic defender; only to DROP HER while Frozen III: Season of the Witch or whatever gets to exist because the characters are more 'marketable'...that's what matters. And that's what's unforgivable.

Everyday it's a blessing to not have Disney+

[starmuselove]

BAE JINYOUNG LEAVING CIX

𝕯𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌: 7 𝕬𝖚𝖌 2024

𝕯𝖊𝖈𝖐𝖘 𝖚𝖘𝖊𝖉: 𝕽𝖆𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖂𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕿𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖙.

𝕯𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗:

The contents below might be not accurate because of how tarot works, it's not a fact. And energies, mindsets change over the time, so I advise you to take it with a grain of salt. I am not responsible for upholding the accuracy of this reading. Take it as entertainment and not the absolute truth.

ᴡʜʏ ᴅɪᴅ ʜᴇ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴄɪx?

The Magician R, 9oP, The World R , 5oP, 3oW.

He might've been disappointed with how this whole project turned out for him. He did not have material abundance at all! He probably felt very unstable, stagnant- it was especially not going where he wanted to go. Feeling frustrated and like a doll being used to attract a crowd. He wasn't learning stuffs he's supposed to know about to expand his horizons. That's why he could've felt stuck, like a big fish in a small pond-out of place, a sense of not belonging where he was; particularly in life. He knew he had so many opportunities and better things to do and explore. He could also maybe felt like he was losing his previous knowledge/acquaintances, almost waning of his talents. All in all he didn't feel like he was in his power and not an optimal version of what he could do and could be. He simply gotten enough of this restricting situation that only seemed to go towards his deterioration of skills and resources- mentally and physically.

ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ʜᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ?

3oS, Death, The Magician R, Knight of Pentacles R. Knight of Cups.

He does not feel happy with how things have turned out regarding the situation/company. He might feel a bit directionless or unable to decide what he has to do now. I think he might be a bit guilty for leaving someone behind (I'm getting maybe one member of the group in particular?). What's done been done so he's currently leaving the heartbreak and pain behind and turning anew. He's evaluating his resources now so I think he might take a little break to figure things out, weigh out his plans and options on what he's gonna do. Tbh I think he's gonna relax and take his time enjoy his new freedom to ground himself first. He might have few friends like staffs that could be by his side to give him possible pointers where he could go towards.

Even though he is not happy about this, I see him having hope of him finally going towards what he wants to do, what his heart always wanted. I do think he does have few people in the industry to direct him. He's not in any type of hurry to write his new chapter.

ᴀɴʏ ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀɴꜱ?

King of Cups R, 10oW, King of Swords R. Re-evaluate.

Wow, is he usually very direct? His tolerance meter is out and drained!! He's like- don't let anyone control and bully you what you don't wanna do. Don't succumb to abusive power. You are the one who will suffer the most rather than the higher ups or the ones in power- if you lose your spark, if you keep on adjusting and adding on more burdens to yourself. It will really not get you anywhere and you could get stuck between a rock and a hard place. He's literally flat out saying leave the toxic ass places, places you don't deserve to be in, situations you don't deserve to be standing in, with people you don't want to be with. Leave it all and go towards a better companionship and places. Occasionally do re-evaluate what you actually want and what are your priorities.

This reminds me of the song lyrics:

I'm on some new shit

I'm chucking up my deuces up to her, Deuces

I'm moving on to somethin' better, better, better

No more tryna make it work, Deuces

You made me wanna say bye-bye.

<Obv not gonna include the song cause we don't support domestic violence abusers in here>

[geminidrabbles]

🎀It’s not a process🎀

I've come to find that manifestation is actually really easy.

Choose what you want and decide that it is yours.

Straightforward enough, but for years I've been overcomplicating it.

I never had to perform dozens of methods or stay positive all day everyday (which was absolutely draining for me).

I just had to decide.

When I look into a mirror, I don't second-guess what I see. It is already there, without question.

The same goes for manifestation.

Now that I am aware of this, I have decided to live my dream life and obtain all my desires.

I will be sure to write as much as I can so that maybe my experiences can help someone else, too.

My Favorite Sources:

There is a lot of information online, but personally I have found these two sources to be most helpful given all the misinformation/limiting beliefs that are circulating as of late:

🎀 Taylor Tookes’ YouTube Channel 🎀

🎀 This Reddit post 🎀

Ultimately, whatever works for you, works for you.

Don’t over complicate things and remember to have fun with it.

🎀 Recent Successes 🎀

💞 I wanted a cat, so I imagined it clearly. He would be big, bold, orange, and fat. He would be so loving and cuddly. I imagined how soft his fur was, how warm he’d be, how deep his purrs would go, etc. In that moment, he was mine.

Then I continued on with my day. Didn’t think anything else of it, didn’t even think against it. I simply carried on.

Fast forward a couple weeks, and I am getting ready to go to the gym one morning. As I approach my car, I hear tiny little meows. Lo and behold, there is an orange male kitten INSIDE my car. I had to lift up the hood to pull him out. I’m guessing someone had dumped him in my neighborhood or something, but either way, he’s mine now. 💕

💞 After about 2 weeks of having my new kitten, I decided to purchase a new phone case and a dust plug to go with it. The dust plug was supposed to have an orange cat-shaped charm to match my new cat. I would like to clarify that I have ordered from this specific company multiple times and I have never had an issue with any of my orders.

Anyways, a few weeks after placing my order, I begin craving donuts while I was at work. I imagined them clearly. They would be soft and sweet, with gooey chocolate covering the top. I imagined the big white cardboard box they’d come in. I imagined the indent my fingers would leave when I grabbed one. I imagined what they looked like, smelled like, tasted like, etc. In that moment, they were mine.

Then I snapped out of my thoughts and continued on with work. Didn’t think anything else of it, didn’t even think anything against it. I simply carried on.

Fast forward a few hours, I’m at home after finishing up my work and my older brother walks through the front door with a big white box. Inside the box were a dozen chocolate covered donuts that he apparently decided to buy for us to share.

But get this. That online order from the site that never does me wrong came in that same day. My phone case arrived as expected, as did my other items. However, the dust plug that was supposed to have a cat, instead had a cute little frosted donut as the charm. 💕

————

Just thinking about how easily my manifestations came to pass, and how strangely they ended up coming about makes me smile.

It’s only been a few months since then, but now that I know how simple it all is, I want to ✨consciously✨ manifest all my other desires.

🎀 MJ Method 🎀

**DISCLAIMER: YOU DO NOT NEED METHODS TO MANIFEST**

Taking a page out of MJ's book:

I have decided to reinvent myself. I want a whole new character, a whole new look. I should be a totally different person. I am now someone who gets everything they want and so much more. Making money is as easy as breathing. I am the embodiment of good luck. Amazing opportunities, experiences, gifts, and prizes flow to me effortlessly. I never have to worry or stress. It feels like I win the lottery each and every day. I am a winner. I excel at everything I do. Anything I touch, turns to gold. Success is my existence. My life is beautiful. I am beautiful. I am loved and cherished simply for being me. I am amazing. I am radiant. I am exciting. I am the best at what I do. I can do anything. I can be anything. I am an innovator. I am a pioneer. I am the past. I am the present. I am the future. I am the creator.

IT IS DONE.

[spades4cards]

𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

As soon as I arrived at the party, I wanted to leave. I already had deals with half the people, but they were all clinging onto me like dogs wanting treats. Some needed more investments, others needed loans because the market was shit, and I managed to squeeze out of every conversation until I made it to the bar, where I ordered cheap wine because I was self-made enough to know that spending thousands of dollars on one glass was ridiculous and I could do with whatever the fuck I was chugging down right now.

I looked around. Each person I saw happily socializing and each man who tried to bring me down took pieces from my soul until I was a hollow shell. I try to make these parties less draining for me, but it's just so exhausting. I tried not to scream as I saw Kai Young. Great, now I have to socialize even more.

He took a seat next to me, and I finished my wine in one sip.

"Hello, y/n. How are you doing tonight?" He asked as he ordered a whiskey.

"Good, how are you?" I'm actually miserable.

"Good. Forgive me if I'm pruding, but I heard you made a deal with DigiStream."

I looked at his body. I wouldn't mind fucking him, to be honest. And I don't have to accept a deal; I just have to seem like I considered it. Not to mention I really need a good fuck, and I heard form Cassandra he was good...

He stared at me, and I realized I hadn't responded, "Yes, I did."

"Well, I can assure you, Young Corporation has much more to offer," can it offer me your dick?

"Like?" I asked, but in truth, I wasn't even listening.

"Well, we own many restaurants across the globe and have some of the biggest factories in China, which you could definitely use to make your technology, not to mention our company owns three percent of the market." His pride was making him look less handsome.

"Listen," I said, cutting him off, "Want to get a private room?" After all, what's the best way to make someone feel considered but not to fuck them?

"What?" He asked, not shocked but intrigued.

"Do you want to get a private room, Kai Young?" I asked again, more slowly, with the most lust I could muster.

"Well..." he paused, staring at me, "Unfortunately, no."

I was a little embarrassed but didn't show it. Guess I'll just fuck myself, then.

"Anyway," he said, trying to get back on track, "Should we have a meeting and see if I can change your mind?"

"Sure, I'll give you my email. It's..." I said before orally dictating my email so he could write it down on a notepad.

"Why are you not writing it on your phone?" I asked after he was done copying my email.

"I prefer paper."

I let out a bemused sound. "How old-fashioned."

"I am very old-fashioned."

"I bet you want to read Hemingway right now," I said as a joke.

"I actually would."

I became more intrigued. "You like classical literature?"

"Yes. You do, too?"

We had a lengthy discussion about how classical literature is much better than modern literature before I left, deciding I was too socially burnt out. At least there was some friendliness between me and him now.

𝒦𝒶𝒾

My conversation with y/n had to be the most productive yet strangest one ever. Midway through, she asked to have sex, and after I rejected her, we found our shared interest in classical literature and talked for an hour or two. It was nice, though; I felt like we had established a friendly boundary around us.

At least you got a meeting, Kai. Only focus on that.

I hopped in the shower and let the soft, warm droplets hit my skin. I thought of y/n, the glimmer of hate in her eyes as she saw me, the way her hands moved when she talked about something she liked, her bold lipstick that highlighted the sharpness of her features. I wondered what it would be like if those eyes were staring up at me, those hands around my cock and those lips swollen as she took me in her mouth, sucking with expertise and...

Shit.

I was hard.

I brought my hand to my dick and stroked as I thought y/n would. Teasingly, around the veins, maybe, then playing with my balls before rolling up again and giving hard and powerful stokes. I groaned as pre-cum leaked from my tip, going faster until I came. When I got out of the shower, I realized what I had done.

Great, I took a shower to clear my mind, and I achieved the opposite.

God knows what else y/n will do to me.

Knock, knock.

"Enter."

I walked into her office with documents and ready contracts. It was an architectural beauty. High ceilings with bookshelves filled with sophisticated literature, antiques strategically placed throughout, an off fireplace with leather sofas in front and a chess table in the middle, and through it all, y/n, at the end of the office, staring at me with a viciousness that could cut glass.

"Take a seat," she said as she straightened up in her office chair. "Would you like tea or coffee?"

"Coffee, please," I replied, meeting her gaze back in a manner that conveyed I wasn't scared.

She sent a message on her phone, then stared at me, clearly expecting me to speak.

"Before I tell you about everything Young Corporations can offer, I need to know what you're looking for."

"I heard you say you own some of the largest factories in China," she replied, zeroing in on all the contracts I brought.

"Ah, let me see what I can offer there," I said as I shuffled through contracts and laid three out neatly on the table.

She looked through all of them before turning to me and scoffing, her jaw clenched. "Let's see, one contract states I can only use one section of a factory, the other states that I can use a whole factory if you take twenty percent of my earnings from the products I sell from said factory, the third contract states I can rent out your smallest factory. I strongly decline all of these offers."

"Well, if we look into the logistics, they're not bad deals," please say yes.

"Mr. Young, if you cannot change any of these offers, I'm afraid this meeting will have to be cut short," she said, raising her voice a notch before giving a curt nod to the woman that brought my coffee, but I was in no mood to drink it.

I paused, thinking. I wasn't expecting her to be that dissatisfied. "I can give you a wing of the largest factory for rent."

"How much?" She asked, simmering down.

"Anually, we're talking around fifteen to twenty million," I replied, ready for the counteroffer.

She scoffed again, raising her eyebrows in amusement at my audaciousness, "Twelve point five million."

"I'm afraid I can't lower the price so drastically on such a short notice. If-"

She smiled sweetly before cutting me off, "No cutting the deal with DigiStream, then. What a shame. I thought you were far more capable than the current owner-"

"Twelve point five million," I agreed with a bitter taste in my mouth. "I'll have the contract sent in five working days."

She smugly saw me off, and I left, trying not to curse loudly in the middle of the hall.

Fuck. There goes all good relations between me and Y/N.

𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

Kai left, and for some reason, I wanted him to stay. I usually wasn't the type to want someone so bad, but all I needed was one fuck to get him off my mind, His british accent, his stupid deals, those fucking biceps. I just needed it.

My hand trailed to my pants before I could stop myself. Definitely ovulating, I thought as I rubbed my clit with my thumb and slipped two fingers inside, moaning as I hit my g-spot. God, I hope no one heard that, but then my need for more increased, and my fingers went faster until all I could do was stifle my moans by biting my other thumb and letting my orgasm crash over me.

I really shouldn't want someone this much. I was just sex-deprived, that's it; it wasn't an odd want for Kai Young. Not at all.

I just needed a sex buddy.

That was it.

Nothing else.

[harlotofandraste]

Also I hate the name "burnout" because it is just so absurdly fitting for me :(

I LOVED my job I loved my work so so so freaking much, I enjoyed the responsibilities I felt comfortable with my coworkers, even the higher-ups, I did well, and not even I will deny that I did well, that I was damn great at my job, and I had no problem putting in the work, the hours and routinely worked hours that are not technically legal in Austria and either didn't write them down at all or moved the hours around so they better fit into the legal framework. And I absolutely genuinely was convinced I had found THE job for me. I went home at the end of the day or from events and stuff thinking, how could I be so lucky? How did I find the one field of work where I can thrive with my ADHD brain that struggles in most other work environments, and I am also paid way more than I would have even expected or asked for at my age.

I quite literally burned for this job. I have said that to people, and I FELT it. I did more than I had to, more than I should have because I simply enjoyed it.

But even if I enjoyed most aspects of the job there were of course parts that sucked a lot. And then a kind of an avalance of shit started - a coworker quit (she later told me that the reason was she was dealing with burnout), "company restructuring" (aka letting people go to save costs, and we rely on freelancers to do a lot of things and we started to lose freelancers and couldn't find anyone to replace them, so basically, way more work, and at some point that isn't enjoyable anymore

It hadn't bothered me as much before that I barely had a full weekend. Because I liked the work. But then this year, I barely ever even had a single day completely off in a week, because there was always something and we are simply not enough people for what we are expected to deliver. Yeah that is illegal of course in Austria but if I wrote the hours honestly I would get scolded and told to change the hours, yet if I hadn't worked the hours I would get scolded for not doing the work.

And it started to become extremely draining. I have not been enjoying even the parts of my job that I used to love, where I felt the fire burning for the job, that flame is now simply gone. Stuff that sucked before is unthinkably terrible, everything is agony. I have missed two birthday parties of my friends in september alone because I had to work and that just breaks my heart. I hadn't even realized this yet last week when I had the appointment with my psychiatrist basically begging me to see that I already had burned out but now upon further reflection I see that it is very much also affecting my personal life, like I love cooking for example. Even living on my own I always cooked good, involved meals, but now I can't even remember the last time I cooked anything. It's a small example but it is not the only thing I have noticed. So many activities I used to find joy in are now merely tasks that need to be done.

I don't want to go on like this. I want to feel human again and I would love to be able to do my job like I used to but now everything surrounding it is just pure agony and i so angry that the management is just routinely burning out good people because they can't adequatly fill positions.

My predecessor burned out even more quickly than me, I think I lasted about half her time longer. And I know that this company - this field - is basically a burnout factory. I knew this but I thought I would be strong enough and with the power of many years of therapy behind me i would be fine. I WANTED to be fine and good and a good employee.

so yeah "burnout" is a sickeningly fitting name for my current condition :(

[dentiststoothfairy]

Hello! I see you're on a break, but may I place a request for an Identity V matchup whenever you're up for it? I'm pretty new to the fandom and still getting to know the characters but I'm v curious! I have no preferences for gender or surv/hunter.

I'm an INTJ and enneagram 6w5, if those help.

I'm also an only child to parents who worked a lot to make end's meet, so I'm used to having a lot of space and time to myself. I dont do well with crowds or long social events, but I am very good at adopting myself to socialize with different kinds of people in smaller bursts. I get along with just about everyone I meet, but the social masking means I'm a bit slow to make genuine friendships. I'm VERY loyal to people I can share my quiet decompression time with. On the flip side, I'm impatient with people who intentionally ignore my boundaries because I'm used to the alternative of being alone.

Im an anxious person who doesn't handle heated confrontation well. Regular disagreements are fine, but raised voices set me on edge and I'd rather take time away from someone so we can both cool off before we have a conversation.

Acts of Service is my favorite LL to receive, even just little things like cleaning my glasses for me. (I'm independent, but not having to be makes me feel loved) Physical Touch is probably second, and also probably the one I'm best at giving.

I'm more of a homebody and my main hobbies are reading, writing, and just relaxing to music, but I also enjoy outdoor activities like camping and hiking when I have company. I have a weak spot for low-budget horror and science fiction films! I enjoy trying new foods too--i think I'm a pretty average home cook, but I'm not a picky eater and I do my best ☺️

I like animals, and I have a couple bunnies as pets! They're v well behaved and have free run of the house.

I work in a management role right now because the money is pretty good, but it's draining and my dream is to publish my first book and make that my career!

Thank you in advance! -🐇

I match make you with...

💌 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐙 🐶

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

If you need someone to give you gentle encouragment to grow out of your shell or quiet refuge from extended social events. He's your go-to guy.

He's more than happy to be your support.

Your adaptability matches well with his ability to match his attitude to his letters. You both would be able to blend well into the right crowd, but would need a safe haven to recover from such. Unlike common belief, Victor doesn't like people as much as you'd think.

I feel like your struggles to make genuine friends would sort of bring him comfort that he's never been able to tell if certain people would make poor or good friends.

You wouldn't have to worry about Victor pressing your boundaries since he has very similar boundaries to you. He'd understand that sometimes, being on your own is the best thing a person could be.

I hope you like dogs. Because Wick would be pretty excited to meet you haha. Wick is Victor's dog that has been through hell and back with him. So because of that, he's been pretty attached to Victor and that's the only person Victor feels comfortable around.

Honestly? Victor is one of the most chill survivors in the manor. I don't think you'd have to worry about arguments with him. If you ever did argue, I think he'd initially struggle to communicate about it first. It'd be a bit of a climb but if he trusts you enough, you two will be just fine. But, I wouldn't worry about that at all. He's literally just happy to be here.

If you're looking for Acts Of Service as your favorite love language? This boy literally delivers letters because he loves to. He would absolutely do little things like that for you. He would be more than delighted to do small things for you.

He's also such a sweetheart so he'd probably melt at your touch. He'd adore it very much.

Wick requires the pat tax

And with your cooking? I don't imagine he'd be too picky either. BUT he'd adore some Steak Diane if you wouldn't mind 🙏

And since you have bunnies? You'd be great with Wick! Since Wick is also very very well behaved. So much so, that Victor brings Wick into matches and he does exactly what he is told! So, not only would Victor love your buns, but Wick would probably love new friends to play with. (He will be gentle with them I promise)

He's also pretty independent since he acts as a postman. He literally ran into a fire to save Wick, so yeah. He wouldn't be leeching off your absolute girl bossing it. But just know. He will be the first person to read your book. He'll run around it and deliver little advertisements to help get your career off the ground (most likely as a secret) because he knows you're talented <333

[lovings4turn]

[ 🪩 ] who's your money on? - send me a little bit about yourself along with a gender preference and fandom(s) , and i'll ship you with someone n provide a few headcanons too !

pick from any fandom you write for, honestly, i think it's more fun that way

'kay, i'm an introvert which means if i'm not comfortable around people i will be very awkward, VERY, and leaving the house drains me so even when i have fun drinking and partying i'm gonna need weeks of solitude after

i'm a blabber mouth when i'm comfortable, i work in marketing so i'm obviously annoying

i can't cook, and i like girly sim games and pink. my school and college mates got frustrated with me a lot because i never studied and always got the best grades

i like going to new cafes and i always have some sort of beverage with me when working (i work from home thankfully! all on my own no boss but me)

i'm very clumsy and get bruised very easily, i'm 169cm but i lie and say its 170cm because it looks prettier. i say i like books and reading but i havent read regularly since i started college (and i have graduated already in a while so)

im also very politically active, and i show my love mostly with gifts and acts of service, i'm not very good with touch and words of affirmation

oh oh oh i LOVE the freedom you've given me here , lari >:) so many people were running through my mind here , but one definitely came out on top

❤︎ . . . i'd ship you with james potter !

the more and more i read , the more my mind was just screaming james . i think you two would make the perfect pair ! james is more than extroverted enough for the both of you , though he understands the importance of letting you recharge your social battery and doesn't press you to go out constantly . he's more than happy to just chill with you if you need minimal company , and he treasures every single outing with you !

there is nothing james loves more than when you finally get comfortable with him , and never shut up . to him , his favourite sound in the whole world is your voice , so he's more than happy for you to just talk to him about whatever , whenever , for as long as you like , and he'll return your energy !

you don't need to worry about not knowing how to cook - james has got it covered ! it's thanks to euphemia, sure, but james has a few trusty recipes that he's absolutely mastered , so he makes sure to cook for you every now and again to show you he cares

james loves the fact that you work from home , even if he has to restrain himself from being a pest . he'll pop in every hour or so to check how you're doing , often bringing you a new drink if he sees you're running low !

how clumsy you are is something so endearing to james , but he still tsks every time he sees a new bruise on your skin . he gently brushes his thumb over it , looking up at you and asking what the bloody hell you did this time , but he insists on kissing it better every . single . time .

[redwinewhiteroses]

Hey alexa !!! Hope you and your loved ones ☺️ 💗 😊 are hale and hearty !

This is S.S here ! Can I join your game please ! I'm a libra sun moon and Mars virgo rising and venus !

My question is - I want to be a k-pop idol ... So how does the future for me look like in regards to being one in the company I desire to train and debut under ? Do I achieve my dream ? Please don't take this as me being fanciful or something, I'm really keen on achieving this and I'm practising and studying all it's aspects including the language really hard ... So could you tell me what my path and outcome is like ? I'm really aspiring to make it come true within this year !

Thanks a lot dear for choosing to give your valuable wisdom and insights !!!

Hi 🤍

I'm answering the other question you sent me in the second ask about what outcomes you should expect /what is going to happen in the next 7 to 9 months regarding your creative pursuit. I accidentally deleted that ask, so I'll write it under this ask 🥲🤧

The next 7 to 9 months will be kinda slow and static mainly because you aren't clear on what exactly you want or how you are going to have it. You might have a lot figured out already, but there are certain things here that you haven't really figured out and they are holding you back and causing blockages for you.

There might come a lot of situations where you have to just sit and think, but even then it still won't be enough to make required progress. This could be your primary action towards your creative pursuit during the next few months.

Indecisiveness and confusion may rise on many occasions. You might not be able to grasp an idea about how to break away from feeling this way; being torn between choices. You might be unable to look into the future to actually see a way out of your current state of mind and situation.

The good news is that you are courageous, even though these blockages and anxiety will hold you back you will tap into your inner strength and stop yourself from falling.

You will also figure out a way to solve one or many of your problems that's stressing you right now. It could be a new idea or a plan that will better support you than the one you already have.

You will start noticing certain things that you didn't before. You will have clarity and a good understanding about your circumstances. You will learn, use your mind, gain knowledge and try to gain more opportunities.

There will be disappointments despite all the foresight, planning and improvement. You might be emotionally drained and you will face a creative block. This is because you are overwhelmed about a lot of things and your mind is filled with doubt, and also because your present lacks joy and emotional fulfillment.

There's an opportunity to experience a really beautiful friendship and connection with someone or a group of people who share your interests. You will feel accepted, understood and most importantly you will feel supported and less lonely.

You will be learning about respecting differences in people and you will learn more about culture.

You will find the strength to overcome issues together and you will feel a lot more light and comfortable to re-engage in your creative pursuits; this time, with more joy and love for your craft.

There is also a reminder here to not neglect yourself. You should take care of yourself and not be too caught up in the chaos and the question marks. Your mind, body and soul needs love and nourishment.

I really hope this helps you, may all your wishes be fulfilled 🤍

[harleiquina]

I don't want to go down the easy route of "OP is wrong and is a a*hole" so... let's see.

Maybe what you do, dear asker, is a hobby. An artistic pursuit that gives you joy but you are not in it for the money.

It is fine, I also have them. I decorate things.

But I'm 31. What do I know about life?

What I do know that I have a "blue-collar" job that I hate because I need to create. I am an artist and I would love to have my passion as my job and to be paid for that... because I live in a society that requires you to have money to live and I have a family to support (+ many pets and we all know how demanding those little beasts are).

*A sad violin starts playing while I enter the "read more" link*

I work as an Over the Phone Interpreter. I'm very professional and the topics in the calls do not affect me (trust me some things had made my coworkers cry) still... sitting on my PC with the portal open and with a constant back-to-back flow of calls (now is a little less but I still have them) is devastating to me. I broke down in tears before or after my shift out of the blue, mostly at night so nobody can see me or in the shower for the same reason.

I don't enjoy anything now (mom likes to cook for me, but everything feels the same. I just eat because I'm hungry, not for enjoyment). So yeah... this is taking a toll on me.

My mom was super-concerned when I was doing this piece. Because I put A LOT of detailing in something that was supposed to be just a simple piece of painted wood to stick that broken Christmas' ornament. She loves it, of course... but as soon as I finished I told her "You know that Bettlejuice scene where Delia tells her husband 'I'm an artist, if you don't let me do what I want to this house I'll go mad and drag you down with me'? Well... I feel like that" and her answer was "Yeah, I thought so. That's why I left you alone while you were doing it".

I still do it. Every day from 1PM to 7PM I'm on the line and I add 2 hours of Overtime every time I can. (I used to work 8 hours + OT but due the lack of calls I was asked to reduce my time on the line).

I have a family to support: mom and an aunt. Both of them are over 50 so in my country, Argentina, nobody employs them anymore. Mom used to work in Walmart, she did it for almost 28 years, but due to our never-ending economical crisis they started to close stores and she was fired just like that.

I see this moment as a way to repay her. She feed me, clothed me and paid for my College (I studied Advertising thinking of it as a more profitable career than Scriptwriting... but my aversion to kissing boots got me stuck, so here I am now, making 4dls/hr for an Hondurian company that is one of the many from which a Big Interpretation CompanyTM outsources). So fine... it's fine. Everything is fine.

But my soul... is crushed. And I'm tired... I can't even do anything I want I do not find the will... even if I need to do it. I'm exhausted because my job is draining me... and I feel myself bone-dry.

I love when my friends tell me how they've felt after reading something I wrote. (They are busy now, with not enough time to read, but... ah well).

I love writing. It's MY thing. I enjoy creating stories, putting all the pieces together, the characters, their arcs!! ...

I can create worlds!

Why should I conform myself having an ordinary quiet life?!

I also sort of play the guitar. The time my teacher gave me his friend's 12 string guitar I just fell in love with it... it has such a lovely sound. And those times I play something (in the loneliness of my room because I'm very shy) and by chance mom or my aunt hear me and identify the song... I'm so proud of it!! And I can't even tell you when they like the melody that comes of me just having fun with the strings.

Art puts a smile not just on my face but in my heart. It gives me a purpose.

Why should I destine myself to this darkness that surrounds me and makes me so unhappy when I know that I can thrive and maybe be really good at something I love?

Sitting down and writing isn't less of a job because it is sitting down and writing. As I said, I'm 31, I'm still young (I don't feel it like that but, ah well...) I still have so much to learn and perfect in my writing and the topics that I choose. I started at my 17, and my work then was pityful (some good ideas here and there but really bad executed) and how do I know that? Because I kept on reading anything that I found fascinating, learning from any kind of text, learning from people and their experiences... and even from made-up experiences!

We, artists, draw inspiration from life and this is an endless source. We never receive a diploma that says "Yes NOW you are a writer/musician/dancer/actor/other"... those from College are just a piece of paper with little to no value. The real learning is in the process... in the work...

And how can I get better at what I love when I'm wasting my time in something that I hate? Yes, it puts food on the table, but why can't my writing do the same thing? I do not ask for millions, not even fame, but to get rid of the whole "starving artist" cliché. We shouldn't starve for food, but for knowldege and drive.

I'm sorry Neil, although I love your writing and agree with your opinions on most subjects I have to disagree with you on the writers' strike. No-one should have a more privileged life as a result of being clever and creative. I worked from the age of 15 to the age of 65 in low-paid jobs, taking 1 year off to go to drama school and 3 years off to get a fine art degree. I worked in terrible but necessary jobs, labouring, stacking boxes, unloading trucks, running errands, filing, going to work on a bicycle at all hours of the day and night on shift work in all kinds of weather. Even when I was a student I was still working in part-time cleani8ng jobs and even during periods of unemployment I worked in volunteer jobs for charities and social services.

According to Mensa I have an IQ of 160 and according to Plymouth University I have a BA hons in Fine Art but I cannot accept the idea that writers and other creative people should avoid normal jobs like driving an "Uber" or working in an office/shop/factory/construction site. To accept that idea would be to create a new aristocratic class when we should abolishing the old princes and aristocrats.

What we need, I feel sure, is a redistribution of labour so that everybody who can do so would spend some time each year in blue collar work and everybody who can would get higher education and a chance to make art of one sort or another.

The idea of doing other jobs to supplement writing or drawing shouldn't be seen as a terrible thing, a punishment or a suffering. Sharing the jobs around should be seen as normal.

I mean, I've done my half century of sweat labour and it didn't hurt me too much. I'm retired now and still making art of various kinds and I've never asked anyone to pay me for any art piece I've made. making art, writing, drawing etc. is the fun stuff which we get to do in exchange for the blue collar stuff which puts food on the table.

The worst pop song ever written was Sting/Dire Straits song "Money for Nothing" which ridicules the working class from a position of educational privilege.

So what's my question? My question is: What's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet? Sounds perfectly fine to me.

Nothing's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet. Writers and artists have been doing that since the dawn of time. Actors too.

But by the same token, there's nothing right about assuming that writing isn't a blue-collar job, or that writers and other people who make art can only make it for love and that thus they need other jobs to subsidise their craft.

I like living in a world in which the people who make the things that make the world worth living in get paid for their work. For me, that includes the people who make films and TV, books, art and music and comics.

Having spent a lot of time on film and TV sets, it's a blue-collar world on set, and everyone is working long and hard to make the shows you love. I'm never going to suggest that the riggers or the gaffers or the make-up team or the focus-pullers should drive ubers in order to have the privilege of being on the set and working there.

Or to put it another way, from the most blue-collar writer I ever knew...

[fluorescentvermin]

Chapter 1

The Beginning of the End - Charlie

Finding a job isn't easy. Finding a good place to work is even harder. I've been on the search for the right job for months, it's been a test of my mental stamina. Journalism isn't what it used to be. Written media these days is mostly celebrity gossip and conspiracy theories. The political climate has become an over-dramatized shit show. It seems as if both sides aren't fit for anyone.

Even with all that, there's one publication that seems to value the truth over gossip. The Neo Journal. I read their articles every day. Not only are their writers eloquent and fluent, but they are one of the only publications talking about the real issues. They're truly a rare gem. I've applied for them on multiple occasions but have yet to receive any word back. I guess my university degree and independent works aren't good enough for them. One day I'll work for the Neo Journal. Maybe I just need one piece that highlights my writing chops. Sadly, I've yet to find the inspiration for that one piece.

My life is pretty boring in my unemployment. I live with my wife, Ella. She's my rock. She's an Editor at a publishing company that specializes in non-fictional work, and she's been supporting us financially. I have self-issued myself the role of house husband, and I quite enjoy it! Even though I want to work, having a clean house and a wife that's properly fed makes me happy.

After taking the stairs to the 17th floor, I search my pockets to look for my key. It was strange though, when I put my key into the lock it wouldn't open.

"Ella. It's Charlie. My key isn’t working" I yell, rapping my knuckles on my front door. I hear movement. Shuffling feet grow louder, approaching the door. After a long day of job searching at the library, I was mentally drained. I looked forward to snuggling up with my wife on the couch and watching a movie.

“Good” Ellas’s voice was muffled by the door and the walls between us, surely, I was mistaken by what I heard.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that. Can you let me in, please?” I yell again. I shuffle on the spot; my satchel weighed heavy on my shoulder.

“I said good! I changed the locks” Ella shouted through the door.

“I wish you would have told me about that so I could have bought a new key” I yell and mumble at the same time. Ella forgets to tell me things sometimes, but she’s a busy woman so I don’t blame her.

“I don’t have to tell you anything” she yells.

“Ella, honey, I’ve had a long day. Can you please just let me in?” I beg.

"No, I don't think I will" She pouts, or I assume she is.

"Ella, I hear that you’re upset. I don’t know what I have done, but I’ll make it up to you. Open the door so that I can fix it"

“You can’t fix what’s already broken, Charlie”

“Broken? What are you talking about?”

“Our relationship, Charlie. It’s not working out anymore”

“Darling, we can talk about this. Can you let me in? We’ll have some coffee and talk about it. We can figure this out”

"I want a divorce, Charlie!" She shouts. My knees buckle at her words.

"A divorce? What? No! Can you let me in so we can talk?" I plead. I'm taken back by her words. I know things have been rocky but going that far is a bit extreme. We're supposed to be there for each other, and I've tried my hardest to be a good husband. I didn’t have the energy for this right now, my brain was fried. Not to mention the sheer embarrassment of the neighbours hearing our lovers spat.

"NO! YOU DON'T DESERVE TO SEE ME EVER AGAIN!" Ella wails like a banshee. Her voice piercing my ears even through the cover of the door.

"Ella, you're being irrational. Let me in, we'll talk it over. We'll think it through. I get it, you're angry, but we should think about something like that calmly with a clear and level head" I beg. I don't want to be without her. Even with the rollercoaster of emotions she's put me through, I still love her.

"I have thought about it, Charlie. I am level-headed. Our marriage hasn't been working out and I think it's about time we admit to that" She pouts.

"Ella, I made a vow to be there for you in sickness and in health. I have been distracted and I admit to it. I'll do better, I promise" I plead, leaning against the door in my weakness.

"Do you know how many times you've said that, and nothing has happened? I don't believe you will do better honestly" she hisses.

"Ella! God, please! Can we talk about this in the flat? The neighbours can hear everything" I beg, cowering against the door.

"Good! Let the neighbours know that I have a terrible EX-HUSBAND!" Ella screamed.

"Ella! Don’t be like that. Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?" I ask. This is embarrassing.

"Don't act dumb! I've been telling you for years that I'm unhappy and you've stood by and done nothing! I've tried to fix us, but nothing has worked! I'm exhausted! I can't do it anymore!" Ella sounds so hurt and frustrated. I can't bear to hear her like this. I need to hold her and tell her that it'll all be okay. One day.

"Look, I'm sorry. Okay? We'll go to couple’s therapy. We can work this out" I try to bargain. Yet I'm confused, searching my brain for memories of when Ella would have genuinely told me that she was unhappy. She pouts constantly and judges me at times, sure, but I can't recall a single time she's said anything about trying to mend our relationship.

"Are you not listening to me? It's not WORKING!" Her voice raspy and desperate.

"Ella! This is ridiculous! Let me in!" my face feels hot. I can't tell if I'm angry, sad or mortified. Probably all three.

"No!" She screamed so defiantly.

"It's my home too!"

"Not anymore!"

"You're kicking me out??" I bark. Tears welling in my eyes.

"Yes! You're never allowed in the flat again!"

"Where am I supposed to go? You know I don't have anywhere!"

"You'll figure it out"

"Ella! Let me in!"

"No! I'm done! It's over" She screams, surely her throat hurts just as much as mine.

"What about my stuff? My clothes?" I ask. But she doesn't answer.

"ELLA!" I scream again, knocking on the door feverishly.

"ELLA! LET ME IN! WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS!” desperate wails followed by desperate knocking. Still no answer. Tears stream down my hot cheeks and I let the sadness take over. Crying turns into a blubber as fat tears roll down my face.

I stood there crying, uncertain of what to do. The sound of a door opening down the hall caught my attention, and a head peeked out.

"Hey, could you keep it down?" The head shouted out.

"Don't worry, I'm leaving" I scream with vitriol before storming out of the building.

<- Prologue | Next Chapter ->