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dalliancekay · 6 months

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Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE

Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. Mainly as the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop....

...after this he drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Also, for the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. For Heaven. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And so for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3 (to I assume) even out the scores. Some people want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he has (so thoughtlessly) done.

Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.

I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book, my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I...did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. But he died in the one he bought for the wedding. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating as well, and by furiously (but quietly) trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel I get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck (Crowley's 'What's the point of it all' at the beginning of S2). I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, but I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.

But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying from then on.

And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?

How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?

How did Aziraphale spend the night after vanquishing the demons and starting a war? He had no idea where Crowley was. What happened to him. He was probably sick with worry that Hell just took him away. We didn't see him drink and cry, but surely, the worry must have been overwhelming. The wait for what will happen.

ALL his worries over the Arrangement. Was he worried for himself? Do we really think that?

Crowley thought he lost Aziraphale in S1, yes, we saw that. And what happened to the angel then?

He got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps. Why is he hurt? And why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, he doesn't deliberate, doesn't worry that he will Fall (although surely that must have been what he thought will happen if he survives this), there's no pomp around it, he thinks it and then does it. No hesitation.

Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was most likely gone. That he probably left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale? About his sadness?

Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. And first of all, he was suppressing his emotions OUT OF LOVE. His main goal was always to keep Crowley safe. They simply couldn't run away or hoodwink Heaven and Hell. They had nowhere to go. They had no hope and yet they kept loving each other. That's courage. I know we all grew up with Romeo and Juliet and Heathcliff and Cathy and we FORGOT that those were CAUTIONARY tales. And this is not what Aziraphale wants for them. He would never allow himself to go so fast he would hurt Crowley. He feels guilty enough for agreeing to the Arrangement and for meeting Crowley at all when he knows they can be discovered and punished at any point. And Crowley knows it and RESPECTS it. He does not tolerate Aziraphale's decision to not go on a date and to hell with circumstances. He understands Aziraphale's reasoning and he respects Aziraphale's decision. Don't forget, they have NO POWER. They can't change Heaven and Hell. They can't stop believing in God and work on their religious trauma. Their Heaven and Hell are real places with real power and they both BELONG to them. Aziraphale's trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd probably never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress like Crowley does. He will learn to be more open, I'm sure. With his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. They got a little bit of freedom for themselves despite ALL odds. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.

Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * One more note on grief: (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment

It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, not at all. But asking how I am can only end up in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do). I think...this would probably work not just for someone who is grieving but also for someone who you know is dealing with depression for example or a serious illness etc. Edit 2. It's now almost (in 15 days) a year since my brother died. The random attacks of pain and grief have lessened and I have started to do more of the things I enjoyed before... and I am able to answer how are you questions without feeling like they are trying to mock me (the questions, not the people). So I suppose things do get ... lighter? More diffused? I'm not sure. Because it's still exactly as unfair that my brother has not lived this past year as it will be however many years pass I expect.

#aziraphale #good omens #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #neil gaiman #ineffable divorce #aziraphale my beloved #good omens thoughts #aziraphale defense squad #suffering in silence #grief #tw grief #dealing with grief #loss #tw death #kaypost

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telvess · 8 months

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Reader using pick-up lines on them

chaotic writing for the fun

Hades

“You should be arrested for stealing my heart!”

Pick-up lines, hmm? Alright, fine, but did you have to use the most pathetic, the cheesiest one? Hades is way too elegant for such a poor tasted attempt, he actually feels offended by your words.

Your first impression is horrible. Hades silently judges you. Of course, he is too classy to make any snarky comments, but you can tell by his cold, indifferent look that he has lost all interest in your company. At this point, he is more of a Poseidon than his brother himself.

If you aren’t the type of person who gives up easily and still tries to flirt… just stop. The best you can get from him would be „yes”, „no” or a nod of the head.

Buddha

“You see my friend over there? She want to know if you think I'm cute.”

Buddha stares at you for a long moment, then looks over your shoulder to check out your friend (who you obviously made up), then then returns to you. His expression is blunt, maybe slightly bored. Totally makes you lose the confidence you had a moment ago as you watch him lazily suck a lollipop and pierce you through with his unimpressed glare.

The worst he can say is „no”, right? Well, who would have thought that the enlightened mind of Buddha would prove otherwise. A drawn-out silence makes you uncomfortable and you start to squirm under his gaze, not ready for that unfazed attitude of his…

Once the confidence you felt approached him vanished and you are ready to leave as quickly as possible, Buddha begins to laugh historically. You jump up a little and stare at him confused. It takes him a while to calm down, but when he does, he looks at you seriously again and says „tell your friend I find ya cute” with the most annoying smirk in the entire universe.

Susanoo

“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

Susanoo watches you with harsh expression, his eyebrows raising as your attitude doesn’t change. You just stand in front of him and wait for his answer. Kinda hot, he has to admit.

He is amused by this shitty attempt, but still has to admit that it takes some balls to say something so crappy to his face. You’re bold, stupid and definitely not in your right mind.

He would definitely address all of the above and then… respond to you with an even cheaper pickup line that he thinks sounds good. He is very proud of himself and oblivious to the point that it matches his intimidating aura.

Susanoo likes a person who isn’t concerned with what everyone think of them, but he is also a person who expects others to submit to his will, which makes him rather difficult person to flirt with, demanding from you to adapt to his confusing preferences.

Nikola

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put U and I together.”

BUAHAHAHAHA! HE WOULDN’T GET IT 100%!

He looks at you very confused at first, then he puts to work all of his braincells trying to figure out what you meant. Is this some kind of puzzle? Mystery? It’s clearly impressive, because he struggles to solve it!

Please, stop the brainstorming session before he starts writing his thought on the board and calls members of the science crew asking for the consultations.

After yours short explanation (which probably burnt your soul to the bones with embarrassment) Nikola nods, compliments your clever attempt and… continues what he was doing before this whole masquerade started, oblivious to the fact you just hit on him. So you just stand there and wait for something, but you last barely several dozen seconds before you run away to hide somewhere far, far away.

Much to your surprise, Nikola visits you the next day and invites you for coffee, bluntly.

Hermes

“Can I put my hand on your thigh, where it belongs?”

You sit next to him and get straight to the point. No hesitation, no shame in your eyes. Hermes’ eyes widen for a millisecond as the words leave your lips. Oh? Oh? Oh? He couldn’t help but let his lips stretch into a wide smile, trying to cover his mouth with his hand as a single chuckle escapes his lips.

When he pulls himself together, Hermes lets his playful nature take over. So you thought you were flirty? Hermes is too smart and too cunning to allow you triumph for long. Even if he isn’t interested, he will leave you with a dry mouth and wet panties. Hermes uses the tongue as smoothly as he uses the violin.

Apollo

“I'm sorry, were you talking to me?” He denies, “Well, would you like to?”

My, my, look at you! Approaching the Sun God just like this? Apollo is impressed. In fact, because of how intimidating he is, it's not often that others surprise him with such bravado. Usually they just treat him as something as intangible as the rays of the sun, bathing in his glory, praising him as a celestial being, not as a person. You - on the other hand - are a breath of fresh air.

Once the first shock wears off, his entire figure begins to glow and he gives you the most breathtaking smile you will ever see. From that point on, everything he does comes so naturally that it makes you lose yourself. After making great first impression, you end up like everyone else: Apollo wraps you around his little finger and before you know it, you just sit there and listen to his melodious voice as if you are bewitched. The man is too charming.

Poseidon

“Are you a magician? Because when I look at you, everyone else disappears.”

Peasant. Get out.

You aren’t clever. You aren’t brave. You aren’t impressive. The only person that will disappear is gonna be you, if you don’t remove yourself in the next 3 seconds.

Whoever didn’t stop you from approaching Poseidon like this, definitely doesn’t wish you well.

Kojirō

“Aren't you tired? From running through my mind all day?”

The man gives you surprised look, and moment later he presents you his widest smile. Sasaki has no clue what to say, so he just stands before you, rubbing his neck and blushing like teenage girl. He may stammers out a few words of thanks, but you really shouldn’t hope for more. Kojirō is simply not used to compliments, so even the simplest pick-up line can rock his world.

Please, ask him about swordsmanship, because it’s probably the only thing he can talk about while his brain fries in the skull.

Once Kojirō pulls himself together, he turns out to be exactly as carefree and friendly as you expected. The longer you two interact, the more open and less awkward he becomes.

Ares

“Do you have a name, or can I just call you 'mine'?”

Did you just? Huh???

Ares blinks a few times before his brain process information. He can’t believe you said something like that! Do you even know who you are talking to? He is Ares, the God of War! One of the twelve Gods of Olympus and son of Zeus! He deserves more respect, not some pathetic, human-alike attempt at flirting. He shouts all this in your face, making a big scene and ridiculing you in front of the others gods. For a moment he’s proud of himself, but your teary eyes quickly put him in a less mighty state.

To make things worse, you literally run away. At first Ares tries to ignore the feeling of guilt in his chest, pretending that your reaction was childish and exaggerated, but all he needs is Hermes to make a little remark (“Poor thing, it seems she gave her all to speak up.”) to make Ares’ face red.

He mutters some lame excuse to leave and starts looking for you. He still thinks your attempt was awful, but maybe - just maybe - his heart skips a beat knowing that some pretty miss thinks so highly of him.

Jack

“If music be the food of love, let’s have a feast together.”

Okay, this man isn’t used to hearing compliments, let alone hitting on him. Jack is a little shocked, not because he doesn’t understand you, but because you actually chose him. He doesn’t recognize you, but to his great surprise you seem to know a little about him. After all, you referred to Shakespeare. It couldn't have been an accident, right?

“Pardon me, lady?” is probably the first thing out of Jack's mouth as he’s still processing what you’ve said, but he quickly snaps out of his surprise, “Forgive me, where are my manners?”

Jack introduces himself properly, takes off the hat and bows like a gentleman. He then politely asks for your name, still fluttered that you gave him a chance.

Thor

“Did you do something to my eyes? I can't seem to take them off you.”

“…”

Neither Thor nor Mjölnir budge. Well, this is definitely something new; no one has ever approached Thor this way before, so he has to give you some points for creativity. However, don’t expect anything as Thor isn’t interested in continuing the conversation, so it’s up to you if you are interested in one-sided interaction.

Loki

“Well, here I am! What are your other two wishes?”

Loki stares at you without the slightest sign of interest, twirling strand of hair around his finger. He seems distant, almost like he didn’t hear you. Then he flinches, as if snapped out of trance. His face changes in a split second: a wide, forced smile and squinting eyes screaming at you to evacuate, because you’ve hit on the wrong guy. “Do you have a death wish, woman?” Loki asks, his voice has the sweetest tone that tickles your ears, but his words spew poison…

Loki is capricious. I don’t think it’s a matter of wrong pick-up line, it's rather more a matter of right timing. But even if you choose a bad moment to approach him, he probably wouldn’t hurt you (physically) - he prefers to scare others, toy with their fear than kill them.

On the other hand, if your timing is right, then you would still bounce off the wall, because Loki doesn’t intent to give you a straightforward answer; he would like to play with you, confuse you with the mixed signals he sends. He wants a reaction from you, entertain him. If you are cocky - his goal is to crush your self-confidence. Shy? Prepare for blushing, squealing and stuttering. Ah, you think you’re being funny here? Loki will gladly turn your smile into tears.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror x reader #snv x reader #ror hades #ror loki #ror jack the ripper #ror buddha #ror poseidon #ror hermes #ror susanoo #ror thor #ror sasaki kojiro #ror nikola tesla #ror apollo #ror ares #udj

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koolades-world · 9 months

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Happy Birthday Mc!

today is my birthday so I decided to make a special post in celebration! this usually won't happen but I figured I'd put in a little extra effort for the occasion!!!

Lucifer

"It's your birthday? Have my best wishes. Meet me in the garden behind the house after dinner. I have a surprise for you. See you then."

treats you to anything you said you wanted over the past year

expect flowers, a giant cake, and dinner at the fanciest place he could find

he feels like he doesn't appreciate you enough, so he practically treats you like royalty

lets you cuddle him to your hearts content <3

Mammon

"Happy birthday, human! What, did ya think I forgot? Of course I didn't. Here, I got this for ya. Get ready for a day of fun with your best man!"

so excited that it's your birthday and goes all out

he's never spent so much money on someone that wasn't himself before, but he couldn't thank you more for everything

makes sure you don't have to lift a single finger, even if you fight him on it

gives you a cute little birthday crown that he made himself, and of course, you wear it with glee

Levi

"Happy birthday! Gah, I hope that didn't sound stupid. I spent forever practicing... You're still listening!? Forget you heard that! This is for you. I hope you like it. It took me a month to decide."

he's so so nervous about giving you your gift, but he makes himself give it to you

he gives you merch for your favorite game that you never thought you'd see in person

also gifts you in game currency for your favorite gacha game since he understands the grind

at the end of the day, he gives you a tight hug before running off, embarrassed

Satan

"Good morning, love. Happy birthday. If you're ready, shall we go out for breakfast? You are? Perfect. I have the day planned just to your liking."

he's got the entire day planned, including all your favorite things and romantic moments

each gift he gives is given at a specific time with a specific meaning

even organizes a trip to the human world so you can visit your family and friends

your day ends in his arms as he reads you a book

Asmo

"Happy birthday gorgeous! You look just amazing. Now, before you say anything, open this. Do you like it? Turn around so I can put it on you!"

totally takes you shopping! even goes as far as to rent out the entire store for you

photo shoot with all the fun new outfits you make

fancy dinner and a large party where you're the center of attention

of course, he pampers you at the end of the day with a nice bath and a massage

Beel

"Happy birthday, Mc. I wasn't really sure what to get you, so I hope you like it. There's a cake for you in the kitchen, but don't wait too long to eat it. I'm hungry."

thought very hard about what to get you, and ask around to get ideas

eventually, he decided to give you something small and offer to take you on a hike somewhere remote and beautiful

treats the day pretty much normal, until he reveals the cake that he made for you

it wasn't perfect, but it meant the world to you that he made it and didn't eat it

Belphie

"Ahh, happy birthday. Your first gift is in my room. What's with the surprise? Just because I sleep so much doesn't mean I'm forgetful."

secretly the best gift giver

he makes it so there's a surprise around each corner for you throughout your day

also gives you a beautiful handwritten letter

one of the few days he's actively awake the entire time

Diavolo

"Happy birthday, sunshine!! I know how much birthdays means to humans, so I went all out. Follow me to the first surprise!"

goes all out and makes the entire Devildom celebrate!

makes it a holiday and gives everyone the day off, so he has more time with you

except the biggest celebration you've ever had

researches into human birthday traditions and plans a cute party including a pinata

Barbatos

"Mc, happy birthday. May your day be filled with many joys. The cake I made for you should be just to your liking. I hope you'll enjoy it."

gives you a beautiful hand made card with his gorgeous calligraphy

treats you to a fancy tea party! super fancy with all your favorite sweets

cooks you your favorite food <3

also says the cutest things to you that makes you feel like you're the only person in the world

Simeon

"Hello! Happy birthday! Lucifer told me you were having a party at the House of Lamentation later. Expect to see me there, but I hope you don't mind if I steal you for now?"

most of his gifts are handmade!

expect a cake he made and help with all your daily tasks so you can get to fun sooner

wants to make sure your day is perfect and extra special

prepares you a cup of hot chocolate at the end of the day for enjoying with your favorite movie

Solomon

"Happy birthday, my apprentice. Now, I know this is a little late, but what do you want for your birthday besides my company? Any potion you want made or wish you want granted? Oh, I can do that. Consider it done, beautiful."

pretends like he forgot your birthday at first, but does a 180 and showers you with all sorts of things

gets you a brand new coat that looks suspiciously like his and when you call him out, he acts like he has no clue what you're talking about

takes you to dinner somewhere casual, but treats you like royalty

he pampers you that night and feeds you dessert <3

Luke

"Happy birthday Mc! Will you open my gift right now? I'm so excited! Do you like it? I blessed it myself so those yucky demons won't be able to steal it. Really? Yay!"

so excited to celebrate with you!

he makes all your favorite desserts, and gives you a lot of little things he gather over the year for you

practically attaches himself to your side all day

talks your ear off!! and wishes you happy birthday at least five times and reminds everyone else to as well

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factual-fantasy · 3 months

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But what happened to Ingo that he got al bloody??? Was he attacked by something??? By someone??? And why was Elesa alone on the last panel, where Emmet go? To sleep maybe? To look for his brother yet again somewhere? Does Ingo has memory loss or he does not? If he does, does he remember everything when he gets back? And forget about the adventure he just had? How much time was he missing? He is still all bloody and his leg is still not looking great so I'd say not very much?? His leg is looking awfull I love it.

(Post in question)

XDD I'll take this ask as an opportunity to go into much more detail on the story and answer all your questions!

So for starters, in my AU The Wilds isn't some far off island as its seems to be in the game. My version of The Wilds is 100s upon 100s of acers of land somewhere on the far far range.

Also, Elesa has her own ranch separate from the twins. She has a big lab on her ranch with welding equipment and tools and what not.

ANYWAYS! So Ingo and Emmet had been out exploring when they happened upon The Wilds. Excited to see this uncharted land, they charged right in. They explored together to start, but at some point they split up. Neither of them really even remember why they split.. they both regret separating looking back..

Ingo found a big open field and began walking across it. considering there was literally nothing ahead of him he felt confident to take out his Rotom and type away on it while walking.

Suddenly he fell into a big gaping hole in the middle of the field. Looking at his Rotom he didn't see it coming..

He tumbled down several feet and crashed into the cave floor. The result was a mild concussion, blood pouring from his forehead and a nasty sprained ankle..

He laid there unconscious for a few minutes before waking up dazed and confused. Looking ahead of him he saw a dim light. So he just.. instinctively crawled towards it.

It turns out that dim light was an old teleporter that led him miles and miles into The Wilds. The teleporter deactivated behind him.

About an hour passed when Emmet started look for Ingo. When he couldn't find him right away he tracked him on his Rotom. Following the signal he found a hole in the ground leading to the enormous cave..

Carefully making his way down the hole he found Ingo's abandoned Rotom, a trail of blood leading to an old broken teleporter.. but no Ingo.

It was pretty clear what had happened. Ingo had gone through the teleporter. But it was deactivated so he couldn't follow him.

He called Elesa in a panic, and Elesa told him to bring the teleporter to her ranch. There she had welding supplies and tools to hopefully fix the old teleporter and bring Ingo home. Or maybe go through it themselves and find him..

While Elesa worked on the teleporter, Emmet still had a ranch to maintain and slimes to feed. At the moment there wasn't much else he could do to help in finding Ingo anyways.. So he went back to his ranch and maintaining it.

Now its at this point I should talk about Celebi.

I had this idea that Celebi is this mischievous slime that lives in The Moss Blanket. Ingo and Emmet have become obsessed with trying to capture this slime so that they can study it. Though this slime always escapes somehow. After months of failing to capture it, this cat and mouse routine has turned into a game for both parties.

Celebi will appear and temp the brothers into chasing after her. The dinguses always give in and make chase, only to tire themselves out and end up empty handed.

This routine has become so casual that there have been somedays where they go to The Moss Blanket and Celebi appears. The boys will shake their heads. "Sorry, no games today. We actually have chores to do.." Celebi will pout but then confidently approach them and help them with their chores and allow them to pet her. The next time they visit it'll be back to trying to catch her and her always slipping away. XD

So with that context, it had been about 3 days or so since Ingos disappearance. Emmet was back at his ranch waiting for any good news from Elesa.. At some point he had to stop by The Moss Blanket for his usual chores and to empty him and Ingos extractors.

Emmet had tried to stay calm through all this. He tried to tell himself that Ingo would be fine. he was tough, capable. Surly he would be fine.. though being in The Moss Blanket.. perhaps he saw something that reminded him of Ingo. And just thinking about how his brother was bleeding, and all alone out there..

It was just too much. He was so worried about Ingo and he missed him so much.. Emmet fell to his knees and started crying.

Celebi heard the crying and came to investigate. Only to find.. just one of the brothers.?

Celebi tried to comfort Emmet by nuzzling up against his arm. It helped some and he was able to compose himself.

"Sorry,, no games today.. Ingo's not here... maybe some other day.."

Celebi wouldn't leave his side though. Emmet couldn't help it and kind'a vented the situation to Celebi, even though he thought she couldn't understand him.

He talked about this new land they discovered. He talked about how he turned away for only a minute.. and then Ingo was gone.. But most importantly, he talked about the pink trees..

After Emmet left the Moss Blanket, Celebi turned around and went straight to The Wilds in search of Ingo.

Around 2 weeks give or take have gone by when Celebi finally finds Ingo. And by this time Elesa had fully repaired the teleporter and reactivated it.. but the teleporter didn't connect with another. Ingo did not appear..

Celebi began to try to lead Ingo home. It was tough considering how slow Ingo moved and all the dangers The Wilds presented.. but they managed.

A few days go by and its at this point that Emmet and Elesa are completely defeated. They don't even know where to begin looking for Ingo. They have no way of knowing where that teleporter took Ingo. Although Elesa tried to hack into it and find its last coordinates..

Emmet was back at his ranch, and to be honest.. he was falling apart. Each day that went by he spiraled more and more. There was talk about packing up a bunch of gear and supplies and venturing into The Wilds looking for Ingo.. though there were a lot of problems that presented..

Meanwhile Celebi, Ingo and Lady Sneasler saw a glint coming from a nearby cave..

It was another teleporter! And although it was currently shut off, it looked to be functioning! Ingo said a heartfelt goodbye to Celebi and Lady Sneasler. he thanked them for all their help and care. He activated the teleporter, and stepped through..

All in all Ingo was gone for about 3 weeks or so. He didn't suffer any memory loss or anything thankfully. His concussion and sprained ankle were generally mild and healed on their own over those 3 weeks. Although his leg was still pretty sore since he was constantly walking on it..

I have some ideas in mind for what happens after Ingo returns and what the reunion with Emmet is like. I plan to draw it sometime soon so stay tuned! :}}}

Also thank you for your interest in this Au and for your ask! It gave me a great excuse to ramble about the story and go into more detail! XDD

#my response #pokemon legends arceus #slime rancher #ingo and emmet #submas #elesa pokemon #nimbasa trio #tw blood #tw injury

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cats-artbag · 5 months

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SwapOut/Webcomic/Twitch PSA!

Hi everyone 👋🏻 Zk here >< or Cats, for older followers

So I've been getting back into doing SwapOut again, but I would like to appeal to everyone who reads and loves the comic. Much love to all of you who's still sticking around 🙏🏻💙 But something has also always been bothering me throughout this journey.

As many of us know, we artists do these comics for free (especially fan comics), starting them out of love and taking a LOT of time and energy out of our lives to continue making them.

And it's amazing how many of you come from translations or comic dubs on Youtube, which are also very well-done and take a lot of effort to make, much love to them too. There is a difference, however.

Monetization.

And I'm not asking for pity! I'm appealing for understanding.

Because some comic dubbers on Youtube are able to earn ad revenue from the videos they upload. From the beginning, we artists have given them the permission to dub our works. But we don't receive anything from it, nor do we usually charge them for using our art (against our better judgement).

We let them use our comic pages in their monetized videos for free. And occasionally these videos receive thousands and millions of views, which I imagine gives a decent amount of ad revenue, while the artists themselves don't usually earn anything from their own artwork, nor do we ever want to put it behind a paywall of any kind. (we like reading free comics too so don't worry x|)

... But doing full-colored comic pages for free eventually gets hard to sustain without any income from it, even more so when we need to give our time and energy to other jobs to earn money for a living instead. We legitimately keep going on our comics purely out of love. Truly, we would LOVE to do our own art for a living. There's things like Patreon but it's only feasible if we're also able to produce bonus content or show BTS, and only people willing to spend money for them can help us, and not readers who aren't able to.

And we understand that not everyone can afford to support us monetarily. And that's okay!

But if you love these comics and want to really help us to keep going, there ARE ways you can easily support us for free!

For example, affiliates on Twitch (like myself) are able to earn ad revenue very early on (they must have at least 50 followers, quite a requirement, but still easier to obtain than Youtube's 1000 subscribers).

(my Youtube, btw. not much rn but drop a subscribe?)

But simply put, if the vast majority of readers from the yt numbers visit and stay for ads on the artists' Twitch streams (remember to have adblocker disabled for the site, if any), they'll be making an actual, physical contribution to the artist themselves, at no cost whatsoever. We earn up to 55% from any ads that run on our stream, so the more viewers, the better!

(this is my twitch on average 8 viewers, with a 3 hour stream. again, the more the better!)

(ofc you can also buy subs to watch ad-free and supports me directly, but i'm typing all this to share the free ways people can support their fave creators ✨)

And even if that doesn't work out, I'd be happy enough to see most of you there 🙏🏻💙 I've been treating my streams as work, so I'm striving not to break the streak.

So drop a follow on my Twitch, and catch the streams when you can! They're great if you need company or background noise, and also great for co-working~

Currently streaming WEEKLY, Mondays, Wednesdays (SwapOut) and Saturdays, 10.30AM EST

(art by @cupcakepaints)

>> twitch.tv/zkcats <<

Anyway thanks for listening to my Ted talk, please share this around for others as well >< 🙏🏻 Artists, make this a reblog chain or something! Promo your stuff!

And apologies for the essay, I wasn't expecting to type this much sdghsgh this itself is not an ad for Twitch or whatev, I'm just a little frustrated with needing to juggle all this.

I was also considering hosting SwapOut somewhere that could get ad revenue, but I wasn't sure where until I realized I can probably earn that from my Tapas now (i think?? sdfhgh up to 70% ad revenue there but i haven't seen any yet) So maybe I'll post there a day earlier than here or something? We'll see. Go subscribe there! Check it out! Reread it! Help ME help YOU!

... Much appreciated ><

#catschats #undertale #webcomic #swapoutcomicupdate #typed this out mostly for people who aren't aware that ads support streamers etc.#im super tired now wheezee but im living

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ckret2 · 11 months

Text

Chapter 24 of human Bill Cipher being the Mystery Shack's extremely inconvenient prisoner, featuring: the Pines figuring out a way to chase off Bill's ex-girlfriend... who happens to be a giant eyeball with bat wings.

It kinda goes like this.

(A head's up before we get going: this chapter is a bit more mature than prior ones, so I feel like a warning's in order. There's no sex, and nothing here is erotic or sexy (unless you, too, happen to be attracted to eye-bats), BUT there IS some academic speculation on the logistics of alien sex, and some very filthy-sounding dialogue describing acts that, to humans, aren't sexual at all. Plus some dirty humor and toilet humor. And nothing here is what I'd call billford quite yet, considering Ford still very much hates Bill's guts—but like, he's definitely a little too obsessed with the anatomy of triangles for it to be normal. If any of this is too spicy for you, skip this chapter and come back next one. We'll be starting a new "episode" then.)

####

It was past midnight. In his search for the eye-bat repellant recipe, Ford had flipped through every notebook he'd used during his initial interviews of the residents of Gravity Falls, flipped through them a second time, torn apart half his bookshelves looking for any reporter's notebooks he might have accidentally sorted in with his larger binders, and now he was exhausted, frustrated—and, worst of all, bored out of his mind.

Which made it hard to avoid thinking about more interesting topics.

And for the last hour he'd been unwillingly plagued with the question of how an eyeball and a triangle had a "casual physical thing."

If that didn't mean sex—and you never knew with aliens—then it was still something close enough to fill the same social/recreational niche. It certainly meant sex on the eye-bat's side, Ford had fully documented the reproductive cycle of eye-bats, that was sorted out—but triangles?

It had to be something that would work in the second dimension. Ford had visited a two-dimensional universe populated by geometric shapes, he knew roughly how their bodies functioned: a shape's perimeter was its external surface—its "skin"—and its internal organs were inside that perimeter. So if Bill was still configured the way he had been in his home dimension, any external reproductive anatomy would have to be somewhere on his perimeter, right? Maybe at one of his corners? Or camouflaged where the seams of his brick pattern reached his edges?

But then if Bill were a normal two-dimensional person, he'd have his eye on the edge of his body, not right in the center of his "internal organs." So he'd been rearranged to some extent. Who knew how the rest of his body worked now? His top hat contained flesh and a skeletal structure; maybe it was a removable reproductive organ that could be passed to a partner, like some cephalopods' detachable tentacles—

Ford flinched as he realized Bill was staring at him.

To aid in his anatomical speculation, Ford had drawn a diagram of Bill in his journal and labeled various points on the triangle that might be concealing reproductive anatomy. He quickly scratched out the drawing's staring eye and slammed his journal shut.

He'd happily gone thirty years assuming that Bill had no sex life—Bill was an energy being who presented himself as a floating featureless triangle, his hobbies involved cheating at chess and discussing multidimensional transportation, he probably wasn't designed for "physical things," and if he was designed for it then surely he wasn't interested. Ford was not pleased to have his assumptions disputed.

Because the thing was—Ford knew more than any living human about the mating rituals of unicorns, werewolf/mermaid couples, stomach-faced ducks, and tentacled warrior piglets. (Did he ever know about tentacled warrior piglets.) He had the only photos of a gnome mating ball, which he didn't need, because that horrible sight would be forever seared into his long-term memory. He knew the names of twenty obscene acts in siren sign language, and knew how to use his extra fingers to make them extra obscene. This wasn't unfamiliar territory to him. He was curious about how strange, supernatural creatures functioned; and those functions included how the reproductive drive influenced their behaviors; and a living triangle that had escaped from the second dimension was certainly a strange supernatural creature.

But, unfortunately, it was also Bill Cipher. And Ford did not want to think about what Bill did in bed. ... Assuming he used a bed. Really, at this point the only thing Ford knew was that Bill's only admitted partner was capable of flight. Maybe he just hovered while he—

Ford slammed his journal shut again to stop himself from scribbling down more theories, then stuffed the journal in a desk drawer for good measure. Did normal people think like this? He had no idea. He didn't even know who he could ask.

Enough of this. Back to searching for that eye-bat repellant recipe, and this time he wasn't stopping until he found it.

####

Like a vast eye in an upside-down triangle, the circular center of the portal lit up so bright blue it was almost white. The four energy vents glowed in sympathy. A rainbow constellation lit up in twirling patterns around the central light.

Bill watched with bated breath, a second-dimensional shadow waiting for his door to the third dimension to open. The cavern walls shook; the ground quaked and rumbled ominously; Bill didn't care. The portal was stable, the lab was somebody else's problem, and Bill had a party to get to.

The steel beams supporting the cavern rolled like a wave, and Bill's stomach roiled with them. They weren't supposed to be able to move like that. But he knew what he was doing, the portal was stable, he was not here to destroy this world, he'd come here to save it, whether it wanted to be saved or not—

The whole world undulated. Bedrock and steel were not built to undulate. Bill bobbed on the energy wave like a toy boat on a choppy sea; but the steel shattered, rock crumbled, shrapnel and rubble sprayed out. There was a peal of deafening thunder as the world below him cracked apart.

####

Bill woke with a gasp.

Oh. Right. Dreams.

Dream diary. With a groan, he sat up, checked to make sure no humans were coming by in the next few minutes, and pulled his stolen journal out of its hiding place.

The guide on lucid dreaming had recommended writing down his dreams in full, vivid, rich detail—any people or scenes or events, anything he could detect with his five (?) senses, as much as he could recall.

He drew a portal—gray inverted triangle with a center circle, four circles around the triangle, all five circles filled in yellow green—and then a yellow green line trailing out of the portal's side that grew progressively wigglier like a seismogram. He labeled his doodle, "this." He'd remember the rest.

After a moment of thought, he wrote, "Don't remember if I was a human or a shape. My organs were doing things a shape's shouldn't." (He wrote "human" as 人; there was no translation for the word in the language Bill wrote in. The two angled strokes stood out in Bill's rows of Morse-like dots and dashes.) "Being around so many humans who are CONVINCED I'm trying to destroy their world must be getting to me. Sixer pitched another hissy-fit about the portal yesterday. Enduring all that negative talk can't be healthy for me. I know I'm just helping their boring little planet, but maybe their accusations are getting lodged in this stupid brain's subconscious."

Maybe he should meditate a bit—go think positive thoughts, drown out the mortal voices that insisted they knew his plans better than he did. He'd had enough dreaming for one night, anyway.

Beneath the note to himself, Bill added in English: "Everything would have been fine if you'd just let me finish, Fordsy." If the humans ever did find this journal, Bill was determined to get the last word in.

Then he stowed away the stolen journal and shuffled downstairs.

He wondered how much was left of Ford's portal.

####

Old man bladder. Stan dragged himself out of bed. The other guest room bed was empty. Stan hoped Ford was sleeping in his study—he'd mentioned once he kept a cot down there. Better than pulling another all nighter studying alien sorcery or whatever.

He skipped his glasses, groped his way to the downstairs bathroom, and, yawning, lined up with the toilet.

The toilet said, "Pretty forward of you, Stanley."

Stan screamed.

He stumbled backwards out of the bathroom and hit the wall. Bill flipped on the light and leaned out to grin at him. "Careful! You're due for a broken hip any day now."

"BILL! What are DOING!"

"Trying not to get urinated on."

"Jsh—shut up!" It had dawned on Stan that if he could hear Bill without his hearing aids, then half the house probably could too. He hoped no one had overheard that. "Why are you sitting on the toilet in the dark!"

"It's a free country, Stanley Pines."

Stan raised a fist. "GET OUT!"

Bill bolted from the bathroom like a scared rabbit, then caught himself, rolled his eyes, and raised his hands over his head in mock surrender. "You could have asked nicely!"

Pointing at Bill as he retreated, Stan added, "And stop being so darn creepy! Lurking in the dark and sneaking around silently all the time, like a... some kind of—burglar ninja assassin!"

Bill turned to shout back, "What, do you expect me to make a peace cry every time I walk around? Make sure I can't sneak up and stab you in the back?"

Stan had caught about half of that. "YEAH, smart guy! It might help!"

Bill flung his hands out in defeat as he rounded the corner.

Stan finished his business, went back to bed, and glared angrily at the ceiling another ten minutes.

####

It had taken half the night, but at last Ford had disassembled the filing cabinet and found a few notebooks that had gotten stuck behind the bottom drawer, including the one with Old Lady Sprott's eye-bat repellant recipe. Ford copied it down, left a list of ingredients on the gift shop cash register for Soos, and finally dragged himself into the house to sleep.

And paused in the entryway.

Bill was sitting in the kitchen, staring out the window; Ford had seen him like this before. Usually, he could make himself walk by.

But he couldn't tonight. Maybe it was yesterday's conversation still weighing on his mind, the loose ends they hadn't tied up tangling around his throat. "What are you doing up?"

Bill's voice was inappropriately calm: "Dying."

Ford's guard went up. "Do you... Literally or metaphorically?"

"Literally," Bill said. "Hey—how many decades do you think this body's got? Probably not even a century, right?"

Ford's guard went down. Just moping. But it was an interesting question, one he'd put some thought into himself—what age had Bill's body been made at? How had his body been made that age? How long would the body last? Ford had wondered whether studying Bill's freshly-made-but-already-adult body might reveal anything medically useful about how aging affected the human body; but the odds of convincing Bill to participate in any medical studies—much less finding someone to conduct the study who believed their story—were nonexistent.

Ford said, "At a loose guess, I'd put you around... fifty, maybe? A very spry fifty." Bill's hair was a shockingly vivid gold, not a hint of gray, and when he was in a good mood Bill bounced about with an enviable lack of joint pain; but Ford had seen faint, delicate creases around his mouth and eyes that spoke to age. And the look in his eyes... Ford hated the phrase "old soul"—he'd been called that by some of his school teachers, and it only made him feel the distance between himself and his age peers all the more strongly—but with Bill, it was uncannily fitting. His eyes aged his whole face.

"You think this thing looks fifty? Wow." Bill took a deep drink from a cider can. "Shooting Star's best guess was half that. Thanks for shoving me twenty-five years closer to the grave."

Half that? When Ford had been a child, he'd had a harder time guessing adults' ages, and he supposed Mabel might be the same; but it was difficult to mistake a 50-year-old for a 25-year-old. Maybe there was something else going on. He'd have to ask her later. "With exercise, a healthy diet, and a little luck, you could still live another fifty." Ford nodded at the two empty cider cans already sitting on the table. "With your current drinking habits, I'll give you five."

Bill cackled—loudly enough to make Ford tense up, afraid someone would catch them talking. "Cheers!" Bill finished off the can and slammed it down with the others. "Ugh. Finite lifespans. Awful."

"Welcome to being human," Ford said dryly.

"'Welcome to death row,'" Bill said. "Ha! What'm I doing, worrying about decades. Let's be real, I don't even need to worry about the next five years. If I haven't found a way out of this body before then..."

Bill left the thought unfinished. An uneasy weight formed low in Ford's stomach.

"Ah, whatever. Like you'd let me live that long. Right, Sixer?" Bill pushed himself up unsteadily, keeping his balance first with a hand on the back of the chair, and then on Ford's (suddenly very tense) shoulder as he passed him. "I'm going back to sleep before that last can kicks in."

The way Bill was walking, Ford wasn't sure he'd make it up the stairs. "Why don't you sleep on the folding bed in the living room?"

"No window," Bill said. "I've g—" (He stumbled on the stairs.) "I've gotta see the stars."

Of course he did. When Bill said it that way, it was so obvious Ford didn't know why he hadn't realized that himself. Where else could Bill sleep but as close to the sky as possible?

Ford listened as Bill stumbled his way upstairs, creaked across the floorboards, and collapsed onto his makeshift bed.

Ford had thirty years left. Exactly thirty years. Don't have a heart attack, you're not ninety-two yet! Ninety-two was a good, old age. Older than his father had been. But thirty years felt too soon. And yet it felt fitting, somehow, for his life to be divided so neatly in thirds.

If Bill lived another fifty years in this body, and Ford lived thirty, who would stand guard over him? Would he and Stan have to pass that burden on to their gniece and gnephew? Or to Soos and Melody?

Why was he wondering—what made him think they wouldn't find a way to kill Bill before then? What made him think he wouldn't kill Bill before the end of this very summer?

What made him so sure Bill hadn't been lying about when Ford would die? Thirty years felt too soon; but ninety-two felt flatteringly optimistic.

Ford sighed, and picked up the cider cans to recycle.

He wondered whether Bill—hiding from his ex, fretting about death, sleeping on his enemies' floor—regretted how he'd spent his life.

####

Bill's second entry in his dream diary started, "Wet dream about Iris."

He filled most of a page with an extremely graphic summary before he sighed in frustration, stowed the journal away, and stared at the ceiling as dawn crept in. Well. Terrific. He was pretty intimately familiar with how humans coupled, but he didn't have much practice with the solo act. Plus the humans would give him heck if they caught him at it. He'd just have to suffer.

So here he was, all riled up and nowhere to go.

Who else could he make miserable?

####

Stan was startled awake by a heavy pounding on his door.

"Heeey Fisherman!" Somehow, Bill's voice was even more grating at dawn. He rattled the door several more times. "Just passing by! Wanted to let you know! Here I am! Right here!"

Did that demon ever sleep? And, follow up question, could Stan knock him out for a few hours?

Ford—who must have come up after Stan went back to bed—groaned and muttered something.

Ford wasn't nearly as loud as Bill. Stan reluctantly sat up and put a hearing aid in. "What?"

"What the devil is he up to now."

"No idea," Stan lied. "Go yell at him about it, he listens to you."

Ford sighed, but got up and left the room.

A minute later, Stan heard Bill exclaim, "I can't win with you people!"

He smirked.

####

The kitchen reeked that morning. When Stan came in for breakfast, the window was open, a fan in the entryway futilely directed fresh air into the kitchen and a fan on the kitchen table directed the noxious fumes outside, there were bags of groceries on the counter—he noticed hot sauce, peppers, cheap perfume, and an entire bag of raw onions—and Ford was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of vile-smelling brown liquid. The moment he saw Stan, Ford put him to work stirring the pot so Ford could start dicing onions.

While they worked, Ford explained the situation with the eye-bat harassing the tourists and the solution he'd hit on to drive it away. Soos had collected the necessary ingredients this morning, but couldn't help cook because he was busy finding a way to block the bottomless pit—

####

Outside, Soos scooted a trampoline up to the pit, carefully lined it up with the edge—the trampoline and the pit had nearly the same diameter—and shoved it in. It plummeted into the dark. After a short wait, Soos chucked a baseball down the pit. It disappeared, then bounced back up.

Soos pumped his fist triumphantly. "Aced it."

####

—so, Ford was working on the repellant, and in the interest of public safety and the greater good he was drafting Stan into helping too.

Which Stan supposed he couldn't argue with, but considering the smell he would've preferred dicing the onions. "Is all this really necessary for one eye-bat? I usually just swat 'em off with a tennis racket."

"This eye-bat happens to be large enough to carry off a first-grader," Ford said. "And Bill claims it's his ex-girlfriend, so I don't want to risk them meeting."

"Huh." Weird thing to date, but then Stan didn't know what he did expect a triangle demon to date. "Somehow I figured he was tangled up in this."

Ford laughed ruefully.

After a moment of chopping and stirring, Ford said, "Speaking of Bill—he claims that you ordered him to announce his presence? And that you tried to pee on him."

"I did not and he's a dirty liar! He made the whole thing up!" Stan didn't expect Ford to believe him. Stan also didn't expect Ford to believe Bill. Ford knew they were both liars. What Stan expected was for Ford to side with the person he liked best.

"Uh huh." Ford didn't question Stan further. Ha. Pines solidarity.

Even though he'd already won, Stan went on: "All I did was mention how quiet he is! I can never tell where he's lurking. Sometimes I almost forget he's here." In Stan's mind, Bill had been rapidly demoted from "active existential threat" to "annoying houseguest who blends in with the shadows." Watching him help Mabel cut pretty pictures from fashion magazines with plastic safety scissors drained away most of his intimidation factor.

Ford gave Stan a funny look. "Really? I can't forget he's here for a second. Sometimes I swear I can tell where he's been in the house—like a cold spot left by a ghost."

Stan tried to figure out how to ask whether that was a reaction to decades on the run feeling like hunted prey—which Stan knew how to cope with—or a lingering magical side effect of Ford and Bill's alien possession deal—which Stan did not. Then Ford added, "It's probably because I hear him bumping into the furniture all the time."

"Oh. Yeah. That's probably it. You've got better hearing than me." Case closed. Stan turned back to the stove—

A deafening buzz made them both start. Stan splashed boiling brown stink across the stovetop. "What—!"

Standing in the doorway with a kazoo, Bill said, "How's that, Stanley? Do you like that better?!"

"YOU!" Stan flung the stirring spoon to the floor.

Bill bolted from the room with Stan in hot pursuit. "Whoa! Mercy! Truce! You can have the kazoo! It's not even mine, I'm just holding it for a fr— Ow ow OW ow—"

Stan hauled Bill in by the back of the neck and didn't let go until he was in the middle of the kitchen. He pointed at the spoon, then pointed at the pot. "Pick it up. Get stirring." He grabbed another knife and joined Ford chopping onions. Whew, what a relief.

Bill gave Stan a perplexed look, but picked up the spoon, gave the pot an experimental sniff, and got stirring. He didn't even wince at the smell. "Is this the gnome wizz? What is this, punishment for not letting you use me as a urinal?"

"Whatsamatter, I thought you were the one who thinks pee belongs in the kitchen."

"You're both too old for toilet humor," Ford snapped. "Bill, this problem is your fault, the least you can do is help prepare the spray, and you're not getting a knife, so you're on pot stirring duty. Deal with it."

Bill rolled his eyes dramatically. (At the moment, they were both uncovered; but one was already half squinted shut against the morning light.) "Fine, but only because I like hanging out with you."

Ford scoffed.

"And I don't see how this is my fault just because we happened to date. It's not like I invited her over," Bill went on. "If anything, you should be grateful she's my ex, or else I wouldn't be helping you chase her away—"

"Hey, that's what I wanna know about this," Stan said. He gestured toward the window; the ex in question was currently circling above the gift shop entrance, like a vulture waiting for something to die. "Exactly how do you 'date' an eye-bat? Just—how does that work?"

"Well, it depends on the eye-bat, doesn't it," Bill said, a touch patronizing. "They don't all have the same tastes, you know. But she happens to like art films and water parks. Easy date."

"I'm not talking about that! You're telling us you slept with an eyeball with bat wings—right? That's what we're talking about, right?" From the corner of his eye, Stan saw Ford giving him a sharp look, but he didn't tell Stan to stop. Yeah, the nerd was curious, too.

"Yes, Stanley." Bill's condescension was almost more overpowering than the kitchen's stench. "That's what we're talking about. I 'slept' with an eyeball with bat wings." He exaggerated the finger quotes around the euphemism. "Any more prying you want to do into my personal life, or...?"

"You look at that freak out there and think it's appealing?"

Bill stopped stirring and squinted out the window. Flatly, he said, "Yep. She's still drop dead gorgeous. Thanks for asking."

"How do you even know that's a she! How can you tell a girl eye from a boy eye?"

Ford said, "Technically, Stanley, all eye-bats are female." He held up an onion and used his knife tip to gesture at it like it was a model eyeball, "They're parthenogenetic parasites that reproduce by attacking other species' faces and depositing egg-bearing spores on their eyeballs, which swim to the tear ducts to begin incubating. Over the next few weeks, the infected eyeball grows wings and develops its own nervous system while the host slowly goes blind in one eye, until the new eye-bat is mature enough to emerge from the host's socket and seek out her mother's colony—"

Bill let out a strangled scream. "Enough!"

Stan and Ford stared at him.

"Would you stop talking about eye-bat sex?! I'm already riled up! I don't need help making it worse!"

He slammed the stirring spoon down and started pacing. "I'm losing my mind. Do you know what it's like to be randy for something you don't have the right body for?!" He gave them a pleading, slightly crazed look. "I need to feel her pupil contracting against mine. I'd lick her hot, salty tears off her sclera. I'd bite deep enough to taste her retina. I want to look like I've got pinkeye from all the bat spores coating my face. I'd give my right eye just to have one of her wings fingering my eyelid again—but if I cave and go that far I know I'd lose my head and give her the left one too, and then I've screwed up, because STUPID HUMANS BODIES can't regrow their STUPID EYEBALLS—"

He kicked the wall so hard he lost his balance and stumbled back into the stove. "Ow. I'm going insane. I can't take it. I need to kill somebody. I need to set something on fire."

Stan and Ford were petrified. Stan's jaw had dropped.

Bill was panting from the exertion of his outburst, arms trembling, face flushed. His shoulders slumped. The picture of a broken man, he said, "I'd do anything to rim her optic nerve again."

Ford let out a strangled noise.

Bill took several deep breaths. He rubbed his forehead. "Sorry! Wow. That was... I think the fumes are getting to me." He shook his head. "The fumes and the hormones. Human hormones. You know, your species has very insistent..." He gestured vaguely toward the doorway. "I'm—think I should lay down."

Stan and Ford nodded. Bill trudged from the room. A few seconds later, Stan heard springs creak as Bill flopped his full weight on the living room sofa.

Stan and Ford exchanged a look. Stan said, "I shouldn't have asked about..."

"You shouldn't have asked."

"You should have skipped the science lesson."

"I should have."

They lapsed into silence. After a moment, Ford stood up to take over stirring the pot.

Stan resumed chopping onions. "Say, d'you think he staged all that to get out of stirring?"

Ford didn't reply.

"Sixer?" Stan glanced up.

Ford had turned away from the stove, and was staring at nothing with a faraway, troubled look. It was the look he got when he'd just latched on to some mystery that would haunt him until he solved it.

"Ford—?"

Ford slapped down the spoon and stomped into the living room. "But you hate losing your eyeball! So how did you two— I mean—! The spores—?"

"Incompatible biology." Bill's voice sounded muffled. "It's why we never got serious. She wants kids and my tear ducts can't incubate wings."

"Ah! Of course. That makes perfect sense." Ford returned to the stove with a look of triumph.

Stan didn't know how Ford had recovered from that fast enough to ask follow-up questions. Weird nerd. Stan shook his head but said nothing.

####

In Ford's journal, he scratched out most of his speculation about the anatomy of Bill's species, scribbled over the diagram, and added, "I severely underestimated how much his eye is involved."

####

At one point, during Weirdmageddon, when Bill had been torturing Ford for information, Ford had spat in his eye. Bill had licked it off. He'd seemed eerily undisturbed.

Ford would probably wonder how Bill had interpreted that act for the rest of his life.

####

Outside, dressed in a homemade hazmat suit consisting of painter's coveralls and a scuba mask, Soos faced off against the eye-bat, a spray bottle strapped to each hip like a cowboy's revolvers. Dipper and Mabel stood behind him, armed with a rake and a golf club, wearing a bicycle helmet and a football helmet with tree branches taped on. The eye-bat stared them down warily.

Leaning on his elbows over the kitchen table so he could stare out the window, Bill said, "Bet you a hundred bucks she steals Questiony's hat."

Stan snorted. "I'm not taking that bet. You don't have any money."

Bill grunted and turned back to the window, just in time to see the eye-bat dive for Soos's face. Soos whipped out one of the spray bottles, dropped it, ducked down to retrieve it just as she swooped past where his head used to be, and lifted it in time to spray the eye-bat when she circled back to attack him again. She reeled off screeching, eye watering, pupil contracting. Bill winced in sympathy. Poor gal. And she didn't even have an eyelid for protection. But, hey—better for her to suffer than for Bill to risk getting caught in this body. He'd take someone else's pain over his own embarrassment any day.

"It seems to be working the same as it does on any other eye-bat," Ford said. "Good. Once she's gone, Soos and the kids can spray the rest on the roof. That should drive her off while keeping the worst of the scent away from the tourists."

Streaming tears, the eye-bat dove at the kids. They yelled in alarm. Dipper threw his rake at her and missed. Bill flipped up his eyepatch to squint at the battle with both eyes.

"What, do you see something?" Stan asked.

"Just appreciating her sphericality." Bill sighed wistfully. "That spray's gotta be excruciatingly painful—but, I've never seen her that wet before. Sure, we've fooled around with a little hot sauce a few times, but even then—"

"I'm sorry I asked."

Outside, Soos shouted, "Hey! My hat! Give that back!"

Bill wordlessly held a hand out toward Stan.

Stan smacked it away. "Nyeh."

As the eye-bat retreated toward the forest, Ford sighed in relief. "She's gone. It worked."

"You sound surprised," Bill said.

"Frankly, I can't believe that you gave us accurate information on how to get rid of her."

"What! You wound me! Why would I lie about that?"

"To trick us into doing something that strengthens her? To arrange an opportunity to meet her?" Ford suggested. "After all, as one of your Henchmaniacs, she could have helped you escape."

Bill's blood ran cold.

She could have helped him escape. SHE COULD HAVE HELPED HIM ESCAPE! He'd been so worried about not looking stupid or losing his eyes, when all this time—! He could have signaled Iris from the window, and—and the bottomless pit was right there, she could have carried a message to the gang—at the very least, she could probably open doors for him—and instead he just—when he could have—

He watched in despair as Iris's pretty little optic nerve vanished behind the trees.

No, Bill decided—no, getting her help was a terrible plan. If it was a good plan, he would have done it; so it was terrible. He had a better plan. What was his better plan?

"Come on, you think I need her? I've got all the pals I need right here—whether you're ready to admit it or not." He elbowed Ford. Bill had decided he'd wheedle Ford back over to his side, and he would. His survival depended on it. Now more than ever. "I've got a way out, don't worry about that—it's only a matter of time—and she's not part of the plan."

Ford scoffed. "Really. Last night you were moaning about being on death row."

"Wh—Hey! That was..." Not fair. He scrambled to revise his story.

"You're lying about something," Ford said. "If it wasn't how to get rid of her, then it was why you wanted to get rid of her. For all we know, maybe she wants you dead as much as we do."

"Yeah," Stan said, "the 'girlfriend' story sounds crazy enough to be true, but you seem like the kind of guy who has a string of exes who'd love to kill you." (He did, as it happened, but it wasn't his fault he kept falling for petty jealous psychos who hated seeing him thrive.)

Ford said, "If she hadn't been a danger to the tourists, perhaps I should have invited her in to talk."

Unbelievable. Even when Bill did exactly what he was supposed to, he was still the bad guy. "Fine, she was a notorious black widow and you saved my life, happy? Do you like that story better? I made it up just for you." He jabbed a finger in Ford's shoulder. "You know what your problem is? You're too paranoid. You can't trust anything anybody says. You'll only hurt yourself like that—"

Ford shoved Bill's hand away and stepped out of poking range. "I spent years unlearning the paranoia you gave me. And when I finished, do you know what I figured out, Bill? All along, there was only one person I shouldn't have trusted: you."

It stung, but only in a distant, impersonal way; like a hard slap on a numb cheek. Bill turned to give Ford a sour look. "At the lengths you take it to, I could tell you the sky is blue and you'd have to check."

Ford's gaze automatically flickered toward the window.

"Ha!" Bill angrily shoved the table against the wall as he stood up. "Thanks for taking care of my pest problem, boys." He stormed upstairs, flipping his hood up as he went. Ingrates.

####

The view out the attic window was more interesting than usual, mainly because there were three humans traipsing around on the roof spraying eye-bat repellant. From time to time Mabel came by to make funny faces at Bill through the glass; he did his best to one-up them. Once, Soos nearly fell off the roof and died; Bill hadn't laughed that hard since he was murdered.

Their return indoors was heralded by Mabel shouting, "Dibs on the shower!" and Dipper replying, "I take shorter showers, let me go first!" They pounded up the stairs. Mabel tried to take them two at a time, tripped near the top, and by the time she recovered Dipper was already in the bathroom. She groaned. "Augh! Not fair! I don't want to smell like onions and gnome pee!"

"Neither do I! I need it more, I haven't showered in two weeks!"

Bill wondered why Dipper got to go so long between showers without getting dumped in a cold tub in his sleep. (He knew why.)

Bill whistled to catch Mabel's attention. "Consolation prize." He waved a cheap perfume bottle toward Mabel. "We had leftovers after mixing the repellant. It smells like strawberry candy."

"You're my hero." Mabel took the bottle and sprayed it all over herself, in her hair, and under her sweater. "You need a shower too, you know."

"Sure, but until Dolores fumigates the kitchen I'll just blend into the background stink. I can put it off til tomorrow without anyone complaining."

"You're grossss." Mabel emphasized the hiss by poking Bill's arm. "Once I'm clean, I'm not talking to you until you've showered too."

"I'll be devastated."

"Those are my terms!" She kicked aside Bill's cushion-bed so she could sit under the window without stinking the cushions up, and settled back to wait for the bathroom. After a (very short) companionable silence, Mabel said, "It's too bad we had to chase off your ex. I can see why you like her."

Bill gave her a surprised look. "Can you?"

"Iris was so graceful!" Mabel said. "And murderous, but mostly graceful. Like an evil swan."

Bill laughed. "Yeah! Yeah, she is. Floats like a dream. If you think she's graceful in the air, you oughta see her in the pool. She's the only person I know who can make a cannonball look elegant."

Mabel gave him a sly grin.

"What?"

"Look at you. Yooou still like heeer." Mabel propped her elbows on the edge of the window seat and balanced her chin in her hands. "How did you meet Iris?"

For the last couple of days, almost everyone in the house had talked about Bill's ex like she was some kind of malevolent creature, rather than a person. He was used to outsiders talking about his friends that way—heck, most of his friends were malevolent creatures—but it grated all the same. (He missed home.) Just hearing Mabel call Iris by her name was a breath of fresh air. No one else had even asked if she had a name.

"I met her at a party," Bill said. "I'd just gotten a piano and was showing off, and she came by to ask about Earth music. She wasn't in my crew then—but the party was open invite, and everyone in that corner of the Nightmare Realm knew that if you wanted info on Earth, you came to Bill Cipher. So, we talked about waltzes and tarantellas, I played a little Beethoven, we hit things off..."

They talked until the bathroom was free and Mabel went to shower. Sweet kid. Hopeless romantic, though.

When Bill got out of this place, he was gonna find the first boy who would break her heart and kill him before they could meet. It was the least he could do for her.

####

The third entry in Bill's dream diary: "Shooting Star's cartoon is getting to me. I dreamed about the wolf and the cat arguing over who had to host someone's birthday party. The wolf refused to let guests into his enormous mansion, but the cat's house was burning down. They asked me how to resolve this. I told them the cat should execute the wolf as punishment for his inhospitality, take over his mansion, and wear his skin as the party host. The animals were so in awe of my wisdom that I was deified as god of the jungle."

That was not what he'd dreamed. The animals were so horrified at his suggestion that they'd tied him to a stake and forced him to watch as they threw the cat into the flames of her own house. He couldn't remember whether he'd dreamed that he was a triangle or a human.

He preferred his version. Once he'd regained control over his dreams, he could replay this one and make it end properly.

He'd get the hang of this in no time.

####

(You're legally required to tell me if you had a reaction to this one. Even if it's horror. Especially if it's horror.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #ford pines #grunkle stan #stan pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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milqueandsugar · 5 months

Text

🌼☕` Date Night `☕🌼

Gen / Fluff

Includes / Carmilla , Vox , Velvette

| CARMILLA CARMINE |

Prefers at home or private dates, she's a woman hated and revered for her work, she's not going to ever put you in a dangerous situation for being with her at the wrong time

Very, very romantic, old school style

Pulls your chair out for you, opens doors for you, brings you flowers whenever she visits

Reciprocate these gestures? She's puddy in your hands

She keeps any flowers you bring her by pressing or drying them, I imagine her as someone who has a small memory box somewhere, mostly built around her daughters, and now you too

As much as she loves doing things for you she likes doing things with you even more, especially if she can include her daughters

Cooking together, trying out painting or pottery, hell you could be doing the dishes and she'd be all warm and fuzzy with love

For important dates, anniversaries, birthdays, or just when she's feeling extra she'll rent out a restaurant or theater for the two of you

Extravagant enough to suit her adoration for you, but private enough she can relax enough with you to actually enjoy the date

| VOX |

There are two dates with Vox, work dates which devolve into either sex or cuddles

Or very public dramatic dates

Im talking matching outfits, paparazzi present, multiple body guards

He loves both equally if he's honest which he isn't, he complains about how behind on work he is while rubbing your back or playing with your hair in bed

Your more extravagant outings are usually work related, like going to parties for networking, wearing velvettes new line or eating at a restaurant one of the Vees recently bought

During your extravagant dates is one of the few times you don't talk about work, paparazzis near by, can't spill any secrets can we?

Happily recalls the massacre of the lowest earners that month while separating your crab meat from the shell for you

Also extra affectionate when in public, he's a proud man, he's proud of you and he's proud to be with you

Arm around your shoulders, holding your hand, hand on the small of your back, always near by

God forbid someone try something, especially when you have a live audience

You'd be surprised how creative someone can get with violence after so long, impressed too if the viscera didn't ruin your new shoes

Don't worry, he'll treat you to a shopping spree afterwards, only cause he loves you soo much

| VELVETTE |

She loooooooves to be spoiled

You treat her as the princess she is everyday however, and dates are the times she puts all her effort into you

She's hand makes custom outfits for the two of you, even if your date only consists of skin care

She likes going out, she's not someone who can stand doing nothing and needs to be somewhere new doing something new all the time

You usually go to spas or shopping spree, on her card of course!

Lots of photos, making collages on Hellstagram, cute couple Voxtoks and Twitter threads talking about how hot you are

You can usually tell when she's about to pull you out of work for a date by how many thirst edits of you she's saving or liking at a time

Your seriously wondering if she's commissioning them cause WHY IS THERE SO MANY

Talking shit your entire date, not about you obvi but she has to fill you in on the office tea, mostly at Vox and Valentinos expense

What is said at the massage table STAYS at the massage table

On the rare occasion you guys stay in for a date you order enough food for ten and binge watch the latest shows or drama channels on Vtube

She even let's you do her makeup I'd you ask her particularly nicely, do it well enough and she'll even wear it out

Her favorite dates of course are the ones where you two get messy at one of valentinos clubs but that's between her and Voxs ten million cameras

She asks for the tape later.

#carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla x reader #carmilla x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #vox x reader #vox x you #vox imagine #velvette x reader #velvette x you #velvette imagine #velvette headcanons #vox headcanons #carmilla headcannons

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hellish-sunsets · 7 months

Text

Curses and Blessings - Chapter 5

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 6~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9

Summary:

Inwardly, Lucifer was panicking. Outwardly, he remained as bubbly and happy as ever. At least, he hoped he did. He was trying very hard to not let the panic show.

He had been surprised when the first person he ran across when visiting the hotel was… her. He still had doubts that Charlie was right about her, but her presence still made him nervous. He just didn’t know what to think about… any of this. Despite fussing and worrying about it, alongside Charlie’s meeting today and the upcoming extermination, he hadn’t come any closer to a conclusion about her. But he shouldn’t be rude, right? It’s not her fault he was a mess of a man. So he kept a smile on his face and went along with it.

And maybe, if somewhere along the line he could confirm Charlie’s suspicions…

Word count: 1643

Read on AO3

Taglist:

@cherry-4200 @adaizel @kyo-kyo1 @elleofdragons @snoozewritezz

--------------------------------------------

Y/N shot up in her bed, eyes flashing in the dark of the room. She sat there as her panting breaths gradually steadied and her mind cleared, but her tears remained. Her face scrunched up as she tried to wipe away the remnants of her nightmare. The sound of crunching metal and shattering glass still rang in her ears.

She took a deep breath and glanced at the alarm clocks, the bright red numbers flashing 7:36. It was early, most of the hotel didn't get up until late. Even Charlie didn't get up till 9, preferring instead to stay in bed and cuddle with Vaggie. She had said it with hearts in her eyes and a blush on her cheeks. How disgustingly adorable.

Which meant Y/N was the only one up at this time.

She tossed the covers off and went to her bathroom, deciding to shower of the remnants of her nightmare and make breakfast for the hotel. If she kept herself busy enough she could move past it and into her day.

Once she was dressed, making sure her sweater sleeves were plenty long enough, she took off through the hotel. The halls were dimly lit by the sun, or the closest hell had to one, casting everything in a gloomy red and gray. It took her a bit to remember the way to the kitchen. She had been here, what, maybe a month or so? She couldn't remember, but it was clearly still too soon to have the layout memorized. She managed to get to the lobby and she was sure she could find the kitchen from there.

She paused, a confused frown pulling at her lips.

Was that someone laying on the couch? Yes, surely it was. It looked like… Lucifer? He was laying on his back, staring intently at the ceiling with a rubber duck clutched in his gloved hands. His brows were furrowed, like he was deep in thought. It was odd to see him without his hat and coat, but he did still have his vest on over the white dress shirt.

She debated approaching him. She had only talked to him the one time before. They certainly weren't close, and he looked like he was really thinking hard. She probably shouldn't interrupt…

But her curiosity got the better of her this time.

She approached with quiet footsteps, but he didn’t notice her.

“Hey-” She tried to keep her voice gentle and quiet, she didn’t want to startle him, but he was startled anyway. He jumped at the sound of her voice, staring at her with wide eyes for a moment. Once he processed who he was staring at, he scrambled to sit up and hide his rubber duck, a faint blush painting his pale face.

“Oh, uh, hey! Y-Y/N, right?” He said, giving an awkward smile.

She still couldn't believe this man was the king of hell. She chuckled, leaning over the back of the couch to smile back at him.

“Yep! May I ask what brings you here so early in the morning?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“We'll, I just… couldn't sleep much, so I thought I'd visit Charlie. But nobody's really up yet, so I decided to just wait. Then my mind got away from me, I guess. Just started thinking and worrying and all that, I guess.”

She found herself staring as he rambled out his thought process, taking in the details in the dim red morning light. God, his hair was so blonde and his eyes were so big. The little blush on his face was so clear on his pale skin.

Oh, the blush was because she was making him uncomfortable, wasn't it. She turned away and sighed.

“Yeah, she usually doesn't get up till 9. I was just heading to the kitchen to make breakfast or something.” She paused. “If you would like to join me… could be a good distraction.”

He seemed to think her invitation over before brightening up, a wide, sharp toothed smile taking over his face.

“Good idea!” He hopped off the couch and made an exaggerated bow and motion. “After you, my dear!”

She chuckled and led him to the hallway. “I think the kitchen's this way…”

—---------------------

Inwardly, Lucifer was panicking. Outwardly, he remained as bubbly and happy as ever. At least, he hoped he did. He was trying very hard to not let the panic show.

And maybe, if somewhere along the line he could confirm Charlie’s suspicions…

No, he couldn’t think like that. It would only lead to disappointment.

“Here it is!” Her voice broke through his thoughts and a smile slid back onto his face as she led him into the kitchen. It was a very large room, surprisingly clean despite the state of the rest of the hotel. He could work with that. He watched her as she started looking through the fridge. “What should we make…”

”Let’s do pancakes!” he immediately suggested. “I use to make pancakes for Charlie all the time when she was little.”

She nodded her agreement, taking out the eggs and milk and butter. They worked together in silence, Lucifer combining the needed ingredients and stirring while she chopped up some fruit to put in or beside the pancakes, they still hadn’t decided which.

He found himself glancing at her more than he probably should. He hoped she didn’t notice. He should probably stop, but his eyes were simply drawn to her in a way he couldn’t help, peaking at her wrist. But her sleeve was pulled down and he couldn’t get more of a glimpse than the very edge of the colors.

They were very similar colors to his…

The thought made his heart jump in his chest and he focused on his stirring.

“Do we have a skillet or something, you think?” He asked, managing to keep his voice even. He smiled at himself, giving himself an imaginary pat on the back.

“Yeah, let me get looking.” She said, putting down her knife to rummage through the cupboards. While she wasn’t looking he smirked at himself and stole a banana slice.

“Don’t touch!” She playfully snapped at him and he froze.

“How the hell did you even see that?” He wondered, staring at her with wide eyes. She turned around to smile at him and wave a large pan.

“Reflections. If you want fruit, get your own, they’re right there.” She motioned to the bananas and strawberries and the counter next to the cut ones. He narrowed his eyes at her, giving her a big mischievous smile and slowly reaching out to take another slice. She leaned over to slap his hand and he snickered, rubbing at the sting. His little stunt managed to earn himself a small smile from her, one that made her eyes sparkle. “Don’t be a little shit. Do you want to cook the pancakes?”

“I would love to!” He took the pan from her and took his spot at the stove top.

He hummed happily as he cooked. She handed him the batter and cut fruit when needed, and it wasn’t long before they had several large stacks of pancakes. The smell of the fresh cooked pancakes filled the kitchen.

It was a surprisingly pleasant moment of domestic levity. Lucifer didn’t think he’d experience such a thing again, not since Lillith… shit, and now he was going to ruin it thinking about her. He tried to clear his mind and focus on the job in front of him. But he kept getting distracted by memories. His smile slowly slipped off his face and he leaned heavily against the neighboring counter. His gaze started to grow distant, the pancakes growing blurry on the plan. Focus, focus…

“Hey Lucifer.”

He managed to snap out of it, a smile easily slipping back onto his face as he turned to her. “Yeah?”

“Do you think we should make blueberry pancakes too?” She asked, holding up a container of the berries in question. The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease some as she spoke. He shrugged.

“I don’t see why not. Give the people one more choice!”

She nodded, taking the container to the sink to rinse off. Has she done that to the strawberries too and he didn’t notice? Checks out, his mind seemed to wander quite a bit this morning.

His breath caught in his throat. She was starting to push up her sleeves, the right one first then the left where her mark was hidden. His eyes snapped to her wrist, biting down on his tongue and holding his breath, like if he made a wrong move, or any move at all, she would stop. His eyes widened as he looked over the swirl of colors on her arm, slowly revealed as the sleeve was pushed up. The colors blended into her skin better, almost looking natural on her like it always belonged, a familiar array of gold, orange, and pink.

He quickly looked away, flipping his pancakes before they could burn. She continued to wash the blueberries, unaware of what he was going through.

He took a deep breath. Then another. He couldn’t get his thoughts in line.

Looks like Charlie was right.

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #reader insert #curses and blessings #hazbin hotel reader insert #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel soulmate au #lucifer x reader soulmate au #soulmate au

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cringe-but-proud · 9 months

Note

hiii

can i please request a wonka x fem!reader (timothee’s version)?

like maybe reader is a worker at the market or something so willy sees her everyday on his way to work and they’re friends and he keeps trying to make the perfect chocolate to give to her but he’s a very awkwardly hilarious at flirting?

thank you!! i love your writing sm

Thanks so much! This one was fun to write 😝😝😝

Willy Wonka x Fem!Store owner!Reader(Wonka 2023)

A/n: Requests are open 🤸🤸🤸🤸

It was a lovely Friday morning. The sun was shining, the skies were clear, and people were out on the streets, ready to start their days.

One of those people seemed a bit more enthusiastic than everyone else.

The infamous Willy Wonka made his way through the streets holding a box, walking like he was a man on a mission.

And he was on a mission. A mission to win the heart of the prettiest girl he knew, Y/n.

Y/n owned a little shop that he walked by everyday on the way to his factory and she sold the most interesting items! Intricately carved, tiny wooden statues, colorful glass bottles, quilts, jewelry, old dolls, and paintings. You name it, she had it laying around somewhere.

Willy visited her shop everyday. Partly because he liked the things she sold and partly because he'd developed a massive crush on her.

And after careful calculation, a lot of trial and error, and almost chickening out like 8 separate times, he was doing it.

He was shooting his shot.

He took a deep breath before stepping into her shop, acting like this was a normal day for him. "Hey, Y/n!" Willy greeted as he walked to the counter she stood behind.

"Morning, Willy." She gave him that small smile that always made him want to swoon and leaned forward on her elbows. "How's it going?"

"Good. Good. It's going good..." He should probably say something else. "How are you?"

"Good. Glad to see my favorite customer."

He couldn't help but smile at that. "Um... I have something for you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Willy slid a box across the counter to her.

She picked up the box and admired it. Willy had intentionally chosen to put her gift in a colorful box. She liked things like that.

Y/n opened the box to see a large variety of chocolate, all different shapes and colors, and all delicious looking.

"Oh! These look amazing!" She beamed at him.

"Well, I'd certainly hope so." Willy said with a smile. "I stayed up all night making them.

She paused. "Really?"

"Yes."

"That's- Wow. You didn't have to do that."

"Well, I did." He shrugged. "And I don't regret it."

She chuckled and looked back down at the chocolates. "Is there a reason you're giving these to me?"

Willy thought for a moment. This would probably be a good time to tell her how he felt. A simple "Because I like you" would work. But, his mind and body were suddenly not working, so instead of doing that, he stared at her.

...

"Willy?"

"Yes! Yes. They're because.. I just wanted to show that I appreciate what you do."

"What I do?"

"Yes."

"You spent all night making me chocolate because I run a general store?"

He paused. "... Yes?"

Y/n chuckled. "Well, that's really nice of you." She popped one of the chocolates into her mouth and was visibly satisfied with the taste. "Amazing, as always."

He blushed at the compliment. "Only the best for you." He replied after a split second of hesitation.

Y/n looked away and he swore he saw a light blush dust her cheeks.

That's good, right? Yeah. That's good.

"Um..." She cleared her throat. "That's nice. Thank you. You should probably be off to work now, right?"

"Uh..." He really didn't want to leave yet. "I was thinking I could stay here a little longer. If you're not busy?" He hadn't been this nervous about asking something in a long time. The second it took for her to reply felt like the longest moment of his life.

"I'd like some company." She said with a sweet smile.

Willy ended up staying there the whole morning. She made him coffee and he drank it, despite the fact that he didn't like coffee. But, he was too nervous to make another move.

He began to leave her shop, a bit disheartened by his failed attempt when Y/n stopped him.

"Willy?" She smiled, a slightly nervous smile. "Do you wanna... Like.... Get dinner tonight?"

His cheeks flushed, his eyes widened, and his heart began to race. "Really?"

She nodded.

"Just the two of us?"

"Just the two of us."

He beamed at her. "I would love that."

Looking back on it, Willy was glad she made the first move. Who knows how much longer it would've taken him?

#x reader #fanfiction #wonka x reader #wonka 2023 x reader #willy wonka x reader

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bomberqueen17 · 8 months

Text

sketchy grocery store shit: a very middle-aged rant

Man so. I went to college in Rochester and so I did my first I'm An Adult Shopping For My Own Groceries shopping in a Wegmans. I got used to the way the store works, how things were laid out. And of course, i got a Shopper's Club card.

I still have it somewhere, use it occasionally, but I had to get another one when I misplaced it because they asked what phone number it was tied to and like, man, it was a Rochester number with a 716 area code, that's how long ago it was. (It's 585 there now.)

I got conditioned to try the Wegmans brand generic for whatever brand name thing I was buying, because it was often the same, and was cheaper. (Though, RIP to the old Wegmans box mac n cheese, they enshittified that in 1999 once we were all good and hooked and we all mourned and switched to Annie's and never looked back. Maybe it's better now but I don't rely on that stuff the way I used to.) I got conditioned to always swipe the card because sure they were collecting data on you but in a $70 trip I'd save five bucks easy, it wasn't nothing! And I also learned to look for their Family Packs, which were larger containers of the same item for less per unit-- if it was something not that perishable, or something you could get through, it was worth spending a little more now to stretch it later!

Anyway. I went to Wegmans yesterday, I live in Buffalo now and we have them here too, and we have a rotation of grocery stores we patronize but when I do the shopping, I'm still the most used to Wegmans, I know where stuff is, and I knew some of the stuff I wanted, they'd be the ones to have. (The organic co-op doesn't carry Doritos and sometimes in the doldrums of winter a bitch needs some of that poison, y'know?)

I'd noticed before that the Shoppers Club isn't a savings thing anymore. I didn't have my own card for one visit and the cashier went to great lengths to get me a swipe from a manager, and at the end I'd spent $200 and saved.... fifty cents.

This time around I'd taken advantage of a buy one get one deal to get a second box of something I didn't really need a second box of, only to discover it was buy one get a dollar off the second, so I saved a whole dollar and actually spent three I hadn't needed to. Well, whatever. It's not perishable and I'll eventually go through it.

But the other thing I noticed was the wild price swings by different packaging of the same item. I should've taken pictures. But like-- ok, raw baby spinach. I fucking love spinach. They had a smaller bag and then next to it they had a Family Pack. I hesitated-- it is hard to use up leafy greens but I fucking love spinach and I could make the effort-- and then I looked. I can't do math but fortunately they are required by law to have the price per unit breakdown on every price sticker. Because the small bag of spinach was $1.99, and was $3.99/lb. (A pound of spinach is a lot.) The Family Pack next to it? It was $3.99, which seemed like a good price jump. But on the per-item breakdown, it came out to $7.99/lb. It didn't actually have any more spinach in it. It was just a different-shaped bag and cost more. For no reason. And there was a whole shelf of the larger bags, and only a small display of the smaller ones. They're just expecting people, conditioned like I am, to say "ah i can use more spinach i'll take the savings" and buy the more expensive bag. But I did just do the math (which is difficult for me so you know I'm mad about this) and that is literally the exact same amount of spinach for twice the price.

Similar for stew beef but they went too far with it, it wasn't even plausible. There was a large pack for forty-nine dollars and I didn't even look to see how much was in it because i do not have forty-nine dollars for stew beef, I found a one-pound bag for $8.99. But I had this same issue before, and was more persistent last time I went: you can buy a three-pound chuck roast for $7.99/lb, which is a chunk of change but it's a lot of meat, and cut it into stew beef yourself and save some money that way, but I just knew I did not have it in me this week to cut up yet another chuck roast when I got home. (Full disclosure: i wasn't even looking at the grass-fed organic shit this was just regular USDA whatever Meets Regulations And Is Legal To Sell shit.)

Stew beef is supposed to be the trimmings and it is supposed to be cheap. But they have realized people prefer it, more recipes call for it because it was historically cheaper, and so they have marked it up and it is more expensive than the whole roast. Because most cooks reading a recipe are not going to necessarily know why it calls for stew beef and that they could substitute a superior cut if the price wasn't good.

I am aware that buying the pre-marinated individual convenience cuts is historically where they make their profit and I don't begrudge them that; if that's what I was shopping for I would not be that mad about paying $7 for three cents worth of marinade ingredients, because it is much easier to cook something like that with the attached recipe and because a lot of the markup is the labor costs in putting all that shit together. I don't begrudge them that at all and when I'm paying for it I'm well aware that I am.

But I really do resent how much of the price-gouging is happening by abusing the patterns of behavior they conditioned us into. I learned, twenty years ago, to look for the deals and look for the bulk packs, and now I am being punished for having learned that. I don't mind paying a premium for something I know is a convenience fee, but being charged extra for my formerly-thrifty shopping habits really stings. I shouldn't have to exercise constant vigilance in the fucking grocery store, it's stressful enough to be the only masked person in there and now you have to compete with the huge carts they use for the online ordering peeps that take up a lot of the aisle.

Maybe it's easier to do the price comparisons on the website?

Oh and there are a number of products they now only carry the Wegmans generic for. (You can't get Snyder pretzel bites anymore, and the Wegmans version doesn't come in quite the same flavors, so I have to go to Dash's to get those now.) And still others where the Wegmans version is pricier. And, alas, some where the more expensive Wegmans version is better. (Polly-O string cheese, why are you so bland?? You're a snack baby. The Wegmans generic has salt in it and is a ton more pleasant to eat.)

IDK I don't have a thesis here it's just that being alive in the 2020s is way harder than being alive in the 2000s even though I was poorer then and didn't know shit. I don't miss my youth and I super don't miss George W Bush but I miss when I was figuring stuff out and it seemed to make sense. And I sorta miss when the Wegmans cashiers used to wear t-shirts bragging about how highly-ranked Wegmans was by whatever organization that was that ranked how good places are to work for.

Also, they try to steer you to use the self checkouts, but baby if you have more than two shopping bags' worth of stuff in your cart you had better wait in however long that line is to let a real human put it into bags for you because the self-checkout does not have any mechanism for you to remove and replace a full shopping bag from the bagging area. I told the cashier how much I appreciated him because he wasn't screaming at me, and he was like yah those self-checkouts yell at you a lot.

(Every Wegmans cashier for twenty years has been super nice. I doubt they're in a union, I wish they were.)

Yeah yeah this is the most middle-aged thing I've written yet but I'm in physical therapy and just bought a recliner for the ergonomics so I'm clearly grappling with my own mortality here, and I'm writing this partly out of concern for the kids who are where I was in 2000. What the hell are they being conditioned to do, by all this????? Shit, man.

#about the author #real life

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