#rehoming is not the devil

[sidetongue]

this beautiful idiot went to live with someone else and honestly, both of our QOL are much better HAHA

[blu3b1rd]

So we already know Flynn's the BBEG(ish? ish) of the AU, but...

WHY?

I mean, it can't just be the grudge against Tessa, can it? Is there some sort of devil on his shoulder whispering Darkness into his ear Lord-of-the-Rings style?

Bonus: WHY IS HUGO BEING TREATED LIKE A SHOTPUT BALL??? WHATD HE DO TO DESERVE THIS, #JUSTICEFORHUGO

1st! While there isn't one specific devil following this floppa around, there's plenty of things that drive the stupidity. For starters, the less than stellar welcome home, only because of some silly pirate-like shenanigans that made some of the skylanders angry. Then there's the couple big bads who appear to try and take advantage of the factions being separated. Like GQ's attempt at the currently "rehomed" tech element, or Malefor's appearance to try and rebuild his army. The grudge is just a easy thing to bring up when he really doesn't have the words to explain why he's frustrated or annoyed, especially with how bad the "welcome" was. 2nd :) That little hamster man gets his share, but most of his fotball moments are from trying to smart his way through a dumb problem. Like bugging the very large, very unhappy floppa. That doesn't stop him anyway, even getting dangled off a cliff cannot silence this rodent.

[inkofamethyst]

March 27, 2024

daylist: symphonic nerdy wednesday evening (city pop, japanese jazz, orchestra, film score [it was exclusively ~vgm~ (lots of NieR and Final Fantasy, lots of vocal tracks!) lol], mmorpg)

song obsession of the week: The Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace - The Amazing Devil gfkgdkjgkjfgkjd

Man I am just so pro-right to repair. Was thinking about getting some new headphones because the earpads on the ones I've had for years have been flaking bad for months, but they sell what are essentially the same earpads online! The headphones themselves are still fully functional, so why contribute to electronic waste when I don't have to? And now they feel perfect :)

Speaking of repair though, I've been done dirty by orthodontists and dentists all my life. And now I might have to pay, again, to fix issues that were ultimately caused by them. I've done (almost) everything right. Wore my retainers nightly, brushed, and I'm now into flossing regularly. So annoying.

Anyway I'm lowk stressing about the future (because of course I am) because even though I could "afford" a solo apartment, I also can't help but feel like that would be squandering my opportunity to save a ton toward the future when my savings would make the most impact (yeah, sorry, it's another one of these, and won't be the last I'm sure). Living solo is something I want and would love to do. And according to my calculations, I could. Even without sacrificing retirement and saving toward a house. Which is more than most graduate/PhD students are ever able to do during their schooling. But it's the anxiety of knowing that I could do more if I had even just one roommate. It's like, considering my situation as a student, what I already have saved, what I will be able to save, what I will have left over each month (a seriously comfortable sum (because, like a platypus, I don't do much)), I would be fine. I would be happy! But having one roommate wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, I guess. And then I could contribute more to my future happiness.

I don't know.

Can I place a monetary value on comfort?

I have a little under a year to figure out what I'm going to do. I can tell you what I want. I want someone to tell me that choosing to live alone would not be ruinous. That it'd be okay. That it'd be worth it for my contentment. That I'm taking the right steps, that I have a good foundation set. But I have to make the decision by myself. And then live with it. Through whatever comes. Because I don't really want to move more than once more before my program ends (and another thing, it would be much more difficult to save up for moving again if I lived alone).

Part of me wants to approach this with the mindset that the future is never guaranteed. And that, as a result, it's okay to splurge now. (Also there's the part about my grandmother potentially not being able to take care of her dog as she ages, and I wouldn't want to rehome her entirely (the puppy, not my grandmother).)

But like, okay. The 50-30-20 needs-wants-saving axis, right? I could stick "living alone" as part of wants since I don't otherwise really spend that much in wants ultimately.

Let me go calculate.

Okay. Post-tax (which is how you're meant to calculate 50-30-20), I'd be doing a bit better than the suggested model (but!!! this includes all the help I'm getting without which I simply would not consider this in the first place).

Let me... let me do some future sims.

nerdwallet says I'll be fine.

Okay. Okay! okay.. Ohh-kay.

I'm not completely decided but at least I have all that information available to me.

Today I'm thankful that.. I don't have a lot of homework tonight. So I can go to bed. OH OH ALSO thankful the person I've wanted as my secondary advisor for months but was too afraid to ask said yes and seemed happy to say so <3

[edit, ~a week later: the trouble will be finding a 1b/1b at my price point (still pretty low for this area since I don't really want to settle for a studio) that's close enough and has my minimum requirements (I suppose another potential option would be saving aggressively for another year to grind out a pot of money that would sustain me for three years at a slightly higher price point)]

[asassydork]

Chapter 1: Grief Stricken

Story: Reflection

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Addams Family vibes meets Harry Potter’s magic mirror for an eerie introduction

TW: probably won’t find any, name-calling nickname, possible jumpscare (idk), not edited

The Hall of Grief. The Pantheon. Emerson Estates, West Grove, NY. 2024, February.

The Pantheon sits as an isolated monument the size of an old church deep in the forest just beyond the edge of the Emerson Estates. It’s an ominous structure made of elegant marble. It’s pillars are carved to resemble the trees around them, the capital section of the pillars house gargoyles of every type: dragons, gremlins, dogs, lions and the like, with their mouths wide open in rage. They’re connected to the roof as a runoff system, adding to the air of grotesque fear that the original architect wanted for a structure like this one. After all, the Pantheon, despite its name, wasn't a place of worship but rather a sacred place for grief and mourning.

It’s bigger than a traditional mausoleum and sat more like an ancient structure. It was more than two centuries old, housing bodies that have been exhumed and rehomed within its complex walls. The platform at the front of the building has ancient engravings on the walls of a dead language that can’t be translated in modern times. Some assume it’s a curse of some sort. A terrifying reminder of what might happen here to those who don’t have the bloodline of those within its foundation.

It’s the kind of scribing that makes you want to touch it but is also terrifying enough not to want to. The path towards the Pantheon is large concrete blocks that stand out against the marshy land around it that seem to be wet year round despite the weather, adding to the hazards.

The local townsfolk have long considered this place a temple for devil worship, falling victim to generations of rumor and falsehoods. But it’s best they remain afraid, leaving this place in peace and quiet. After all, it sits at the heart of a gated community. The kind of community that’s behind more than just a traditional iron fence but rather concrete walls, determined to keep the town out. A place that cops don’t like responding to.

“You know I hate this place,” Peter, aka “Puddles”, groans behind me, lingering at the edge of the woods.

“You’re the one who said you wanted proof,” I complained, fixing my backpack on my shoulders as I turned to face him.

“I was kind of kidding,” he says, looking up at the lion-dragon-goblin combination gargoyle that almost looked like it was staring back at him. They do that from where he’s standing. “I thought you’d take a picture or something.”

“You know that’s not how it works.” I glanced at the growing dark clouds overhead, a storm was coming after the weather never alluded to it this morning. “Stay out here, then. But I didn’t pack all that I’ve packed so as not to get some actual answers today.”

“It’s creepy,” he whines, again referencing the reason he got his nickname in the first place.

“Go back, then.” I’ve finished crossing the big concrete pads to the Pantheon entryway which lacked doors for a very specific reason.

“No,” he shouts, rushing after me and nearly slamming into me because he’s clumsy, especially when he’s scared. “Don’t leave me out here.” He grabs my arm harder than he had to.

I could’ve clawed his fingers off of me but I got myself into this demonstration and it was better than having him dwindle behind me.

The Pantheon lobby is a massive empty space with nothing on the walls but snake carvings around the floor and ceiling. The family’s patron animal, a symbol of rebirth and regeneration. I’ve always found them rather beautiful but in the dimming light, I can see why the hand digging into my arm dug deeper. I’ve never been here with the weather this way. It really didn’t surprise me that it gets eerier.

There’s a button built into the floor, a small crack in the otherwise perfect tiles of the floor that opens the trapdoor to the catacombs. It makes that creepy slide of stone on stone and I drag Pete down with me, knowing he’s going to treat this place like a jumpscare filled haunted house, despite the fact that it doesn’t even have mice running around the tunnels. The stairs are marble but the floor below is some other kind of stone. The short but wide hallway is filled with marble sarcophagi as far as you can see in the dim light.

I pull the lighter from my pocket and light the torch pit off to the left of the stairs which takes off in a rush of fire that spreads throughout the space and comes back to light the other side of the wall. It’s much like a magic trick that you never get used to and I’ve been coming down here for a long time. An ancestor had come up with this design, and somebody keeps the pools of fuel filled to light. But the minute we leave, and the room is resealed, the fire is put out.

I’ve memorized the first tunnel and can list off every relative buried in the fancy marble with their images carved into them but we’d probably be here for a week and it’s really not that important. There’s just over twenty of the great ancestors, most of which were exhumed and transported here when it was built, extending more than three hundred years of ancestors. All of these ones were really old. Although, most of them died before old age.

There seems to be an infinite number of tombs down here, and it’s easy to get lost off of the main tunnel. But that’s a bit of the point. Nobody’s supposed to be down here who doesn’t know their way around.

The hallways in their magnitude are all marked by numbers, letters or last names which makes them navigable for those who know what they’re looking for. But to find the chamber we’re looking for, you must first get lost. That usually means trying to find the more recent tombs at the back of the tunnel network. A quest Pete’s likely never completed because he gets about as far as we have and runs away screaming. I light another torch pool that sends warm flames down the narrowing corridors between the catacombs and lights various rooms we’re not looking for. But it gets us moving. Three more pools of light along the walls and we’ve found the door that won’t appear this way the next time. It appeared at the end of a corridor it doesn’t belong to.

The room doesn’t have a door, but it might as well considering its appearance and disappearance. We enter and I’ve lost sensation in some of my fingers from the marks Pete is leaving on my arm from how tight he’s squeezing me. He doesn’t release my hand until we’re in the dark room with the mirror showing light that’s not coming from a high window, despite how the image looks on the other side. It’s odd that way, some shallow light reminiscent of the weather outside.

I peel his fingers off this time, needing my arm to take the bag off my back and set up. He reluctantly released me but didn’t leave my side as I knelt down and unpacked the candles from the bag. Four old scentless candles that aren’t meant to serve any purpose outside of lighting the room. And since it’s a waiting process, I don’t rise back to my height. Instead, I spread the candles out along the bottom of the mirror and sit with my legs folded and my arms behind me. I’ve brought more instruments today, should I be able to use them. I doubted the mirror would work in front of a new audience. It’s tricky that way sometimes.

“So this is it?” He asks, never having seen the beloved object in person.

“Yes,” I say, my eyes scanning the reflective floor in the mirror, knowing that you’d catch movement in the weird light on the other side if you paid close enough attention. “I told you it doesn’t make sense how I can find it.”

“You can say that again,” he mumbles under his breath, distracted by something and still nervous. “Why does it always have to be a creepy dark room?”

I just shook my head instead of laughing because it honestly wasn’t funny anymore with him. You get over things when you’re left cleaning up after them. I knew that what was going to happen… he wasn’t prepared for. It was going to change everything and really put into perspective the idea that I’m losing my damn mind but I’m also not crazy at the same time.

“I think it’s always creepy because you’re afraid of the dark,” I say, knowing he probably would’ve argued under different contexts, “It only gets creepier if he shows up. I’m telling you, it’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen and I’ve seen Gran’s cousin Bartholomew.” He was one of those unexpected death ghosts who had every option of putting his face back together but just didn’t. He thinks he’s funny but Gran warned me about him a long time ago.

“I didn’t sign up for that,” he says, moving towards the door.

That was when the illusive creature behind the glass that’s been haunting me for the better part of a decade stepped into the light on the other side of the glass. He’s been more secretive this time than any other. I wondered if it had to do with bringing a guest. Once Pete was almost at the door, there he was clear as day in the light.

“Wait,” I whisper, knowing that the person on the other side of the glass wouldn’t have heard me if I screamed bloody murder. I’ve tried that. Nothing.

The others usually listen and depending on how strong they are in your life, they find ways to communicate back. But this one, he just stares into space longingly like there’s someone behind you he’s looking for and nothing you say reaches him but he also doesn’t make any sounds or really move very much. The others almost always want to step through the glass to be with you again. It’s the reason for the reflections that interact. It’s home in a glass bottle. Generations of ancestors who can come to you at any time to send word back to the others.

But this manifestation despite his clarity and brightness doesn’t interact with reflections or sound. He also only comes to me out of the eighteen cousins who’ve been able to see into the other side here. Not a single other person in the history of the family knows anything about my imaginary friend because to them, that’s all it could be. An imaginary image I’ve made up in my mind and lied about for more than a decade like a clearly deranged girl.

My mother has forced me to keep a journal about the man in the mirror, to track any changes and unfold his story. Aside from dressing in different clothes all of the time, nothing about him changes like he is dead like the others. No beard ever grows on his face. His hair doesn’t grow or shrink. He’s not aging. And he doesn’t make eye contact or even look in your director or the direction of movement. I’ve also drawn on the mirror in washable markers to no avail. He’s just sorta stuck wherever he is and he’s been stuck there a long time, it seems.

“Wow,” Pete eventually whispers, easing closer just to send the mysterious figure back into the shadows he came out of, but I could still see the outline of his feet like he had a reason to be here today.

Pete moved back towards the door and after a certain point and some time, the man moved back into the light. But there was no change on his face, no response to the stimuli.

I pulled out my book to note that down real quick when I noticed something I hadn’t seen before, a circle beneath his feet in faded gray shading that almost blended into the floor. That must be where he was stuck, drawn into a circle somewhere. It was unfair to trap someone that way. But then, I realized it was the shadow of the candles on the floor, a manipulated shape.

“There’s a circle,” I whisper, suddenly rising to my feet and stepping out of it. The second I moved back the way I did, the candles blew out like there was a breeze in here but there wasn’t. There’s no room for air to move down here.

“What’s happening?” Pete asks, remaining frozen by the doorway like he was about to run out of here screaming at the top of his lungs praying the door is still open.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, unable to speak normally for some reason. My heart raced in my chest and I could feel my pulse in my ears. “This has never happened before. I don’t know where that circle came from or why.”

The candles relit themselves softly like they were bugs landing gently. The man was still clear as he always is, dressed in medial street clothes like he died yesterday but he’s been like this for more than a decade. Probably longer than that. His style has slowly evolved but also had this odd out of place look about it. It was what I imagine someone very old being influenced by modern times would likely try to wear. It gave this sense of wanting to blend in but not entirely knowing how to do that. Someone who’s been asleep for centuries and woken up to a new world they didn’t belong to.

“Vesisaros,” the word hissed through the air like it was spoken in some foreign tongue. It didn’t come from the man but I imagine the voice was likely his, wherever he came from. “Vesisaros.” The second time was clearer and a bit louder. It was hissed like a snake, though. It made me feel like I imagined this whole thing. Maybe I am crazy?

I turned to Pete, looking for validation only to be met with his absence. Replacing him was a shadowed silhouette of a person. A void made physical. When I turned back to the mirror, confused and a bit frightened, the man who had taunted me all of this time was now looking at me with those eerie green eyes that always reminded me of a snake’s. I guess I’d gotten it into my head again about not having answers.

He’s never looked directly at me before. Never like this. Never into my soul. A chill ran down my back and I shuddered against it. A sensation that then left me feeling like I was falling.

I jolted awake without a moment’s notice, nauseous, hot and cold at the same time. I groaned in annoyance, my room dark and desolate. Nothing can get me here. It was just another cryptic dream because I’ve been trying to figure him out again. I always run into a dead end and sometimes my brain plays tricks on me. It makes keeping notes that much more important because my mom still thinks that by some force of nature I’ll have answers when the time comes. I wasn’t sure they were good answers. I didn’t want to be a ‘chosen one’.

[fizzy-tizzy]

Pet Headcanons for the boys!! (1/?)

Mac doesn’t really have any per-se, but he often feeds and plays with the stray cats that hang around Doc’s gym. The two of them have been talking about trying to catch and rehome them for a while now.

Joe has a fluffy persian cat named Chouchou. She’s incredibly sweet, but there is not a single thought behind those big eyes of hers.

Birdie has a corn snake named Candy Corn! (or just candy for short) She’s very clingy with Birdie, and will often sneak into his gym bag when he’s not looking. She caused quite a ruckus the first time it happened.

Aran’s family has two dogs, an old Irish setter named Duchess, and a mutt they picked up off the street named Rascal. And while he’s not technically a pet, Moira has managed to befriend a crow, which she’s taken to calling Flapjack.

Muscle owns a tiny little black and gray kitten he found as a stray. He’s named him Diablo, both for the fact that he’s a giant troublemaker, and that his ears curl in slightly like devil horns.

Narcis has had many, many pets in the past, most of them rabbits of some sort. His current darling is a english lop named Chiffon, who he’s had for the past three years. He absolutely adores her, and spoils her absolutely rotten.

Macho, of course, has his beloved dobermans, Bullet, Bruiser, and Butch. They’ve been with him for years now, and have helped him get through some pretty tough times. (hc stolen from @/askthewvba)

Disco has a lot of pets, most of them unusual or exotic. He has a caiman lizard named Skittles, a tank of moon jellyfish, all named after various lunar gods, and a couple of gorgeous betta fish (kept in separate tanks!) named after various gemstones. There’s also a pit bull named Athena, but she’s more of the family’s pet rather than Disco���s.

Hugger, of course, has his forest friends! Once again, none of them really count as pets but he loves them all the same. Most of them don’t leave the forest, but Chip the squirrel likes to accompany Hugger whenever he can.

[theharlotofferelden]

@fereldanwench tagged me in this 15 question survey. I’m trying to be more active and >engaged< on here so if y’all tag me in anything I’ll try to reply or do the thing haha <3

1. Are you named after anyone? My name is partially derived from my mom’s. But otherwise, no.

2. When was the last time you cried? Multiple times recently lmao. Mainly while watching movies. Idk why but I’ve been in my feelings lately. I started crying while rewatching Luca and ugly cried while watching Guillermo Del Toro’s Pinocchio :’)

3. Do you have kids? No.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Only with ppl I’m friends with.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people? Their vibe. I wouldn’t say I’m good at judging ppl, but I pick up that sort of generalized subtext pretty well in person.

6. What’s your eye colour? Brown

7. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. I like me some feel-good stuff that isn’t too serious. I know Disney is The Devil but I really like watching Encanto and Coco. But I do like scary movies. Probably my favorite scary movie I saw recently was Smile. I also saw M3GAN but idk if that really qualifies as a “scary” movie lol.

8. Any special talents? Not really >special< but I learned how to dye and maintain my platinum blonde hair about 4-5 years ago without frying it. I’m not a hair dresser so it was nice to learn how to do it at home for a fraction of the price because I was spending friggin’ $120 and up for a double process (the products together cost about $70 and the bleach and developer lasts a long time if you have short hair like me). Ofc I’m saying this after recently just dying my hair black because I’m so sick of being blonde lmao

9. Where were you born? Long Island, NY

10. What are your hobbies? Art, writing, gaming.

11. Have you any pets? I used to have a cat but I had to rehome her (I still see her occasionally bc shes in the family). She lived with me when I worked on a farm and would always follow me home meowing at me. But otherwise no pets :(

12. What sports do you play/have played? I never played any sports. I always thought I would’ve done good doing track in high school, but the school really killed any interest I had in any sport.

13. How tall are you? 5’3”/160cm

14. Favourite subject in school? Art and English. Everything else I was too ADHD and autistic for lmao

15. Dream job? Graphic novelist and/or writer. I also sometimes dream about being financially comfortable enough to own a big property where I could rescue and rehome cats. Tagging @capraaquae @sarasparilla @wanderingnork @elveny @illusivesoul @anora-mac-tired @violet-moreviolence @pencornielius and anyone else who wants to participate (no pressure as always<3)

[maggot-monger]

6, 18 and 19, please?

ooo interesting, thanks anon!

6. pick one of your fics and tell us about a "deleted scene" from it.

omg ok. so, i wrote moving on as a contribution to a genre of fic that was hugely formative to me when i first got into the supernatural fandom, namely "sam and nick cohabitate post-s5 and have a weird and bad time." the whole fic was supposed to revolve around a scene i've been thinking about literally since 2013 that would have been a tense but conciliatory interaction about how each of their bodies is lucifer's. i was so excited to write the scene, but i started it and realized it didn't fit into the fic i'd written to frame it. so. i didn't finish it, and deleted what i had written of it. tbh i might write it as a standalone thing some day but anyway. yeah. THE scene from moving on ended up not being a scene in moving on :p

18. if you associate music, media, or poems with your fics, pick one and tell us about that association and why it inspired you.

YEAH OMG counting bodies like sheep to the new world order exists because of Counting Bodies Like Sheep To The Rhythm Of The War Drum by A Perfect Circle. this is another concept i've had at the back of my head since 2013, when i first heard this song and was accosted out of nowhere by the mental image of lucifer using mary as a vessel, standing vigil over sam's crib, half mother half terrifying heavily armed possessive guard over "her" child. the song is so grim and ragged and single-minded, tender but twisted and heavy and violent and almost revolting — it is one of THE songs for lucifer (or specifically lucifer and sam i guess) to me

"safe from pain, and truth, and choice and other poison devils — see, they don't give a fuck about you like i do [....] go back to sleep"...chills! (and then also Pet which is kind of the same song but not: "stay with me, safe and ignorant / just stay with me / hold you and protect you from the other ones / the evil ones don't love you son. / go back to sleep" OKAY!!!)

19. which of your fics almost didn't get published and why?

weirdly, ecclesia, since that is one of my favorite things of mine that i have on ao3. it's a rewrite of a fic i wrote a long time ago that had a lot of concepts and phrases that i still really liked, even though the fic as a whole didn't quite do it for me anymore. i wrote ecclesia to rehome them, but it was mostly supposed to be an exercise for my own entertainment. and then once i'd done it, i was like "hm, this is somehow both too pretentious and too intimate to show anyone at all ever." obviously i ended up deciding it was not too anything to show anyone and published it. i'm glad i did!

[argumntativantitheticldreamgirl]

I’m crying. Shelly Lakly is the devil incarnate and ousted my sister and her family - the founders! - from Noah’s Ark last year. We’ve watched as hundreds of animals we cared for were lost to death or rehoming (from a fucking animal sanctuary!) with our hands tied because Shelly was board President and had all the power. I really hope this is the first step in getting Noah’s Ark back in the right hands.

[prof-peach]

I know on your island you guys deal with a lot of pokemon from a lot of scenarios, but have you ever had to deal with ex-rocket pokemon? Either surrendered or found. Would there have to be a specific protocol for that, or safety measures?

Yeah we get a few that come to us each month, someone either hands them in, or we get them sent to us from other places that can’t handle them.

As for treatment we have to take each case sepratly, the local authorities send us poison, bug and grass types who need rehabilitation, usually it’s not too bad and we socialise them for a while. No people, just give them time to hang out with their own for a while. This can take anywhere up to a few months, just them and some other Pokemon kicking back and taking time out. We see a lot of Pokemon who didn’t get a chance to learn about their skills, their home, they never had a good family life, they often got torn from the wild and remember humans quite harshly. This time is key for them to settle into normal Pokemon behaviour. They are usually surrounded by others and can eventually pick up the right social queues and etiquettes, when they behave like the others, we start to introduce humans more, one member of staff will be assigned groups to care for, usually handling the rescues alone for the first few months, so the Pokemon being helped can get use to just one person at the start. Once that trust has grown, and they seem confortable, we introduce more members of staff. At this point it’s usually clear who will be rehomed fast, and who will need extra care, and we can divide up time appropriately. Recovery depends o the Pokemon in question, and what they’ve gone through. We’ve got patients with us that have stayed on the island for many years now due to relapses in behvaiour, if anything they’ve become part of our personal teams, part of the family, so I suppose they usually find a home one way or another. When possible we release those who are fit but otherwise uninterested in being a trained Pokemon, there are many release sites that the regional rangers oversee all around the world. Getting them home isn’t too hard luckily.

Because we have such a high population of bugs and grass Pokemon we just handle them more. They can find a group and settle here, without any outside interference.

On occasion we will personally choose to take on difficult cases, our lab is pretty hellbent on taking the Pokemon that are deemed “too far gone”, mostly because of the space we can offer them. Grey handles a lot of unruly water Pokemon, he has no fear of a Gyarados, doesn’t shy away from defensive Walrien or Carracosta, that’s just his area of love I guess? You have to love the work if you put yourself in the way of pretty big, pretty angry Pokemon, right?

Either way, we have our joy areas, and work with the odd species that can’t be otherwise helped by normal means. We use unorthodox methods, perhaps have too much patience, and tend to get really stuck into the work.

One case that’s a wonderful example was a dowdy little Salemance that came to us, had been shifted about by Rockets to fight in underground battle rings, it’s poor wings torn to shreds over the years, didn’t fly anymore, pretty sure the original trainer wanted it that way so it couldn’t just fly off. But it came to us so angry, and so violent towards anyone and anything, well I just about had it with the big idiot. Threw down with the dumb baby myself to put him in his pace once and for all. He was being outwardly nasty to everyone, snapped at everything. So I waited, and dodged, and ran, and hid until he had exhausted himself, and then used its bad vision against it and body slammed the little devil. He got tired trying to thrash me off, fell over and stayed there. Because I didn’t hurt him, I simply used his big dumb baby energy against him, he lost. Since then he was under me in the hierarchy, and we were able to get close enough to treat him, get his wounds seen too. He didn’t dare snap again after that, least not at any of the team. He got fitted with a prosthetic wing, has been flying for about half a year now, and is in the process of being adopted by a lovely young couple who live out in the mountains away from any towns, perfect place for him. I think they run a pumpkin farm out there and needed some defence. Me and that Salamanca are friends now, he’s learnt that just because a humans in a position of power doesn’t mean you have to cower, no ones ping to hurt them now, they’re safe, they can enjoy again. We socialised them, we tended to them, they’re not perfect, they still get spooked by too much noise, they’re jittery with crowds, that’s to be expected.

This is a case I mention because it’s a difficult one, not a lot of sane people will throw themselves at a Pokemon like that, and this is what the work is like. Sometimes you just do what’s right, even if it could end pretty badly, luck, great training, and years of practice are on my side, and for that reason I’m able to take in difficult ones. Each professor will handle different Pokemon, different types and varying levels of difficulty, all help is good help, you don’t have to wrestle a dragon, you can handle things a hundred different ways, and hell they might just work! The only true constant is patience. You sit up at night with them, when it’s stormy or windy and they’re scared, you hold your ground when they’re lashing out, you sit through the worst of it with them. You get bitten and cut and bruised and broken and it’s worth it because at the end they get to start again, they get a go at a second life that’s way better than what they had before.

Very rarely will we ever initiate attacks on a Pokemon on the island, we usually do all damage control with non-violent, defensive methods, and at the very most the rescue Pokemon will be put to sleep or knocked to the ground and immobilised. I see some folks battling against their rocket Pokemon, which can be a great use of energy but also can plant more seeds of distrust between the humans and Pokemon involved. It’s best to at least leave that until you’ve built up trust between you and the Pokemon I think, but each to their own I suppose.

If we need to do psychology we send them to Pari, who does therapy sessions with individuals who think they need it or are referred to her, she’s quite an accomplished student and uses my dear old porygon-z as a translator to talk with patients about their issues. Life is a lot easier when there’s less of a language barrier. We offer pretty much everything we can to the rescues we get, and they are given dedicated space upon arrival.

As for safety measures, yes, of course we have them. Gear is necessary when handling certain types, fireproof overalls and gloves are most common. We always go in with a functional pair of Pokemon, alwasy two minimum. We have this minimum because of many Pokemon going to attack our partner, missing on purpose, and going straight for us. One partner is offence, one is defence, you must cover your back, that defensive individual is more for you than anyone else, if you get hurt you can’t help others effectively. It really depends on the case, I’ve handled big Pokemon who got freaked out by heavy protective gear. Their old trainer would wear safety gear while being cruel to them, so we had to ditch it all, we realised it was causing problems and dealt with it fast. There’s also a number of first aid stations all over the island, not only for the sake of the law but also, we all get hurt a fair bit on the job.

Hope you feel informed!

[prettybirdy979]

Aziraphale has to explain that yes, he knows what that looks like but no, it's a just a not-fully-grown rat snake with a strange morph and not the actual red-bellied black snake. This is because Crowley decided that the teenage girl not-customer's (she's just here to coo over the pretty snake) inhaler was a good place to curl up in. You don't belong *there*, Crowley.

I always welcome this kind of nonsense in my inbox. Please feel free to send me any prompts. More of my fics here.

It’s the screaming that gets him moving.

Not a girl’s scream, thank goodness, which must mean Crowley’s behaving for the young girl here to coo over him. But it is the sort of outraged scream, coupled with some very creative cursing and yelling, that tells Aziraphale there is mischief occuring in his store and not the sort that can be loudly and pointedly ignored. 

‘What on Earth is going on?’ he cries as he moves into the front of the store. There are three people there, the teenaged girl who’s been coming here for weeks now to appreciate Crowley’s serpent form, a screaming older woman who has to be this girl’s mother by the look of complete experaition she’s giving the woman, and a cursing man wearing workclothes that re-

Ah. Bob’s Snake Removal. Well then.

‘Is this your premises?’ the man asks as the woman turns on Aziraphale.

‘This place is a danger! To decent humans! DO you know what you have in your shop?’

Aziraphale gives her the glare of a thousand peeved shopkeepers, too tired to deal with this bullshit, combined with the knowledge that he doesn’t have to. ‘Books mostly,’ he comments mildly as she takes a step back. ‘My husband probably, he likes to slink around. Oh and his snake I’m sure, the dear thing.’

There’s an outraged hiss from under the table. Ah there he is. 

‘So you admit there’s a snake in the shop?!’ the woman shrieks.

‘Mum!’ the girl - Alice was it? - says. ‘Of course he does! Why do you think I keep coming here. Slinky is really sweet and he lets me pat him sometimes.’

The woman’s face goes red. Bright red. It’s really a fitting shade for the level of angry she is. 

But not important. Aziraphale turns to the workman. ‘Bob I presume?’ The man nods. ‘May I ask why you are here?’

‘Got a call a dangerous snake was loose,’ he says, fiddling with his pole. ‘Only got a glance before it wiggled into the inhaler but sir... You do know your snake is a red-bellied black snake?’

‘No he’s not,’ Aziraphale says absently, bending down to look under the table. ‘He’s a rat snake I believe. Crowley keeps telling me what’s made him all small and off colour but I’m afraid once I knew it wouldn’t affect his health I stopped trying to hold onto the details.’

From his place, curled up in an asthma inhaler, is Crowley. He sticks his tongue out at Aziraphale, looking very pleased for a snake. 

‘Oh you devil,’ Aziraphale hisses. ‘Get out from there, you don’t belong in there!’

Crowley just hisses again. How rude!

‘That is not a rat snake,’ Bob says, disbelief in his tone. ‘That’s an Australian red-bellied black snake.’

‘I assure you, no matter how much he looks like one, he really isn’t.’ Aziraphale waves a hand in the general area of his desk. ‘I think his paperwork is over on my desk.’ He reaches for Crowley’s inhaler but it moves away, just out of reach. ‘Fiend,’ he hisses at his ridiculous darling.

‘A marriage certificate!’ Alice’s mother shrieks. ‘That is hardly paperwork for a deadly snake.’

Aziraphale growls and waves again. ‘Underneath it you preposterous woman!’

‘Ah yes.’ Bob says a moment later. ‘I see. Well sir, do you need my help in getting your snake out of the inhaler? I won’t need to report it or rehome him but since I’m her-’

‘I have it,’ Aziraphale snaps. ‘He’ll be out in a minute.’ If he knows what’s good for him, Aziraphale says using a glare at Crowley.

Tongue still out, Crowley darts out of the inhaler and down Aziraphale’s sleeve. Grabbing the device, Aziraphale stands in a rush.

‘See, all done. Here you go my dear, though I do believe I have to ask you all to leave now.’

Alice nods, taking her inhaler as Bob starts grabbing his things. But Alice’s mother just stares. 

‘Where’s the snake?’ she asks in a tight voice, her eyes wide.

Crowley picks this moment to pop out of Aziraphale’s sleeve and hiss.

Alice’s mother screams and leaves the store in a rush. Following behind Alice calls, ‘See you next week!’ and waves.

Bob shakes his head. ‘Gotta say you are the most unusual snake owner I’ve met,’ he says as he grabs the last of his gear.

‘Good sir, I doubt you know the half of it.’ Aziraphale pulls Crowley up to his lips and places a small kiss on his snake’s snoot. ‘I’m quite sure my dear serpent owns me, not the other way round.’

With a laugh, Bob exits the store, leaving Aziraphale with an embarrassed snake hugging his hand. 

‘Well if you insist on being adorable my dear, I shall treat you as such.’ Crowley nibbles at his fingers in vengence, the adorable demon. ‘Just charming, aren’t you? Come on, I’ll read the rest of my book to you.’

Crowley’s hisses is an enthusiastic yes. Perfect.

[tottymatsuno]

Hi hello your Todomatsu takes are so so good and every time I read your posts/tags analyzing him I just go: "YES. Exactly."

I remember being active in the fandom a few years ago, and it was pretty common for people to just exclude him or make fun of him, because "satan".

(I don't know if I'm making this up or not, but I remember seeing posts laughing at those times he talked to himself, telling himself he loved himself, etc and I just ??????????)

Anyways I love how you deconstruct all of his "evil" moments and bring his underappreciated characteristics to light without reducing him to a pure angel. He is complicated and wonderful and thank you for everything you do for the Todomatsu agenda.

- Anonymous Thottymatsu enjoyer

RIGHT?!?? PEOPLE HATED HIM!!!! like everything people hated totty for were literally just either shit his brothers did first and worst OR him being egged on by his brothers! Todomatsu's bad behavior that isn't instigated by others is SO rare!!

He's just unsympathetic lol. He's callous he's a bit more calculating than his brothers (not by much) and he's trying to set boundaries between the six. He's not nice!!! That's IT! HES NOT NICE!! And that's because he's TRAUMATIZED! he's not nice to his brothers in a way that screams nice to them because he's different!

The show doesn't point out Todomatsu's kindness because to drive the point home that the brothers are fucked up its to demonize quite normal behaviors. Todomatsu trying to have a life without his umbilical cord attached to the other five is demonized. Oh you got a phone? Evil. You can talk to people? Evil. A job? Who do you think you are, we're all neets.

And he is SO beaten down that he talks to himself because who tf is going to love him otherwise. Todomatsu constantly switches alliances and gangs up on others most of the time bc Osomatsu is doing it first but also because he needs to avoid being the one beaten. He can't rely on any of his brothers for comfort or support so he relies on himself. Which is also seen as inhuman.

Totty literally can't win for losing. If he's honest he's a piece of shit, if he lies he's a piece of shit. He isn't allowed space for himself, he isn't allowed to exist comfortably and he's not able to leave either.

But he is kinda a piece of shit still?? He's like a dog from a hoarder house and def needs a lot of specialized care and love before he should be rehomed but... I mean. He's so sweet. Not an angel but he wants to be. He's got this pure ideal of who he should be in his head, knows what to say to appear that way but falls short because no one has ever taught him patience and compassion. He's lacking examples of genuine kindness and that stops him from reaching his true potential.

Todomatsu is so interesting to me because lol same trauma same mental illness. I also hate sugary sweet totty, like if I wanted to romance a little devil archtype with no depth or bite there's probably an app for that but like. He's so realistic yknow? He's the type of guy who rehearses what to say so many times it comes out naturally.

He's the type of guy who is so desperate to appear likable that he actually repulses most people. He doesn't invoke sincerity in return for really no reason and so he's reluctant to extend it first.

I literally got anon hate back in 2015 for loving him. But ykno I really just sit and think "what makes Todomatsu irredeemable compared to like Osomatsu?" and the simple fact boils down to people's aversion to his feminine behavior and because of projection. People often have mob mentality and only want the narrative to explain to them characters actions. Critical analysis is dead in fandoms so if the show says "He's evil" most people will mindlessly agree. If the show only says "Todomatsu is the only evil one" then people agree. It doesn't matter if the person who said it is angry at Todomatsu and is an unreliable judge bc its easier to agree if you already don't like him.

At the end of the day there's a million fucking essays about how Ichimatsu's stank ass farts are cries for helps or how Karamatsu is a poor sopping wet newborn bunny rabbit and exclusively a victim of abuse and not apart of an intricate orouboros of self cannibalism through others as both a victim and perpetrator.... Or whatever. Like people legitimately think Totty is normal and therefore not worthy of any compassion because he just has ptsd and not cptsd 🙄🙄🙄

Anyways ilu anon we are bffs.

[renthony]

Honestly my dream is to have a fishroom that's mostly betta setups so I can breed healthier traits back into the species, as well as do rescue & rehab. Bettas deserve so much better than they get and I'm weirdly fixated on making things better for them.

I wanna be one of those people who can impulsively buy out the betta stock at Petsmart and rehab them in hospital tanks before rehoming them with people who will properly care for them.

(also don't buy your bettas from petsmart, petsmart is the fucking devil and I hate them)

(petco is okay)

(honestly our local petco could be doing a lot worse)

(I prefer the local independent fish store, though)

[intearsaboutrobots]

kepcobi but its just MARINA songs

so i had some outtakes from my kepler playlist, and by and large they were outtakes bc they had the right dysfunctional vibe for a kepcobi sitch but from the wrong perspective.. so i’ve rehomed them here

liner notes / tracklist under the cut !

Are You Satisfied?

you might be saying “hey jude didnt u already use this on the kepler playlist?” and yes i did but it also fits for kepler recruiting jacobi!!!!!!!! its cinematic parallels

I was pulling out my hair the day I got the deal / Chemically calm / Was I meant to feel happy that my life / Was just about to change?

'Cause it's my problem if I wanna pack up and run away / It's my business if I feel the need to smoke and drink and sway / It's my problem, it's my problem if I feel the need to hide / And it's my problem if I have no friends and feel I want to die

About Love

is this song maybe too functional for kepcobi? yeh lol but its also good.. its the initial infatuation yk

But you're in my head, you're in my blood / And it feels so good to hurt so much

Hermit the Frog

jacobi is :clown: for kepler… see now hes past the initial infatuation hes self-aware of how fucked he is

Yeah, I feel I'm watered down / Whenever he's around / I put on the crown of clown / And melt slowly to the ground

Yeah, I feel it coming on / When I've been static for too long / And an explosion comes in time / Before I go and cross the line

I can't help the devil likes to make my heart a double bed / And I can't help he sometimes likes to come and rest his little head

Starring Role

i had to try very hard to not pull like every line from this… its Very good its like.. the thesis of kepcobi

You're hard to hug, tough to talk to / And I never fall asleep when you're in my bed / All you give me is a heartbeat / I've turned into a statue / And it makes me feel depressed / 'Cause the only time you open up is when we get undressed

You don't love me, big fucking deal / I'll never tell you how I feel / You don't love me, not a big deal / I'll never tell you how I feel

You

tfw u at this point kind of get that ur boss/hookup/whatever is kind of fairly fucked up and a bad relationship for u but also u r like. damn still in lov w that guy

You, yeah, you break me down (You) / Yeah, you shut me out (You) / But it's all about you, you (You)

Hypocrates

tfw u r hooking up w ur horrible spy boss and u feel horrible :////// and ur a maudlin kind of jacobi i think whos hit a certain point of drunk and maybe is talking to maxwell who is not super sympathetic and would love to not be hearing this

I know you only want to own me / And that’s the kind of love you show me / You tell me one thing and do another / Keep all your secrets undercover

Shampain

jacobi on a downswing on kepler… after a fight where he walked out on kepler yk

Drinking champagne to forget yesterday / 'Cause I remember the way, the way, the way / It ended the day, the day, the day, the day / That I walked away, away, away, away

Radioactive

tfw u ended things w ur boss/hookup/whatever and now ur still like attracted to him but also angry at him and its a mess

Baby, I'm gonna leave you drowning / Until you reach for my hand

In the night, your heart is full / And by the morning, empty / But baby, I'm the one who left you / You're not the one who left me

Ready to be let down / Now I’m heading for a meltdown

[deadstrangeblog]

Head-scratching facts about Halloween:

Full moons on Halloween are pretty rare. The last time there was a full moon on October 31st, it was 2001 — and before that it was 1955. 2020 will be our only Halloween full moon until 2039.

The Michael Myers mask in Halloween has a fascinating backstory: The famous horror movie villain has surprisingly innocent roots. When shooting the original 1978 film, production designer Tommy Lee Wallace picked up a cheap mask of William Shatner from a Hollywood Boulevard magic shop. Directors loved the mask, and officially adopted it as the face of Micheal Myers.

Harry Houdini died on Halloween in 1926. The famous magician, illusionist, and entertainer died from peritonitis caused by a ruptured appendix, but multiple contradicting reports caused quite the mystery around his death.

The tradition of pumpkin carving was born from the Irish folklore tale of Stingy Jack, a man who betrayed the devil. Banished from heaven and hell, he spends his days wandering the land, carrying a lantern, and this lost soul was nicknamed Jack o’ Lantern.

Many animal shelters ban the adoption of black cats over the Halloween season. Targeted by the overly superstitious and demon-obsessed, black cats have remained a victim of Halloween for decades. In October, many rescue shelters refuse to rehome these iconic cats, in fear of callous sadistic rituals.

[Further reading]

[mrsgiovanna]

Bruno: *crosses his arms* So, am I going to find out the easy way or am I going to find out with Fugo, Abbacchio, and Bri? *raises eyebrow*

- Inside Giorno's mind -

All three: *hold brain cell*

Haruno: W-Well, y-you see...

Angel Giorno: Everything was going smoothly!

Devil Giorno: But then one of the Capos got too cocky and decided to get all mouthy!

Angel Giorno: We, er, I tried to reason with him. But he got so angry!

Haruno: Then he said some nasty things about everyone, especially BriBri!

Devil Giorno: So... I threw the chair out the window to show him who was Don.

Angel Giorno: Narancia and Mista aren't at fault here! They were just trying to help me! But... I let them down. I let you down...

Haruno: I'm sorry, BruBru! *crying* I'm so, so, so sorry!

- Outside -

Abbacchio, Bri, and Fugo: *walk in*

Fugo: We just got word of...

Awwww he was just defending everyone 🤲🥺 valid AF and he has lost his temper a few times.

Giorno: I... I'm sorry, I should have handled that better.

Abbacchio: we aren't angry at you Giorno, during my playback we all got angry at that Capo...

Bruno: what could have been that bad?

Bri: the less said the better... *sad*

Mista: that settles it then, nobody is angry at anyone

Trish: well as long as everyone is okay

Giorno: Yeah...

Narancia: if that's it I'm gonna head out,

Bruno: okay let's get back to work everyone *they all start leaving*

Trish: Bri, you coming?

Bri: yeah *looks at an upset Giorno* I'll catch up to you okay? *waits for room to empty* Giogio? Don't be so hard on yourself.

Giorno: I guess... I just don't like it when I get like that...

Bri: I can understand that... But you still shouldn't beat yourself up. And besides, you're the Don, you're supposed to be a little scary

Giorno: as long as you're not scared of me...

Bri: pfft I'm not scared of anything *laughs*

Giorno: wanna tell that to the roach I had to rehome the other night? *laughs*

Bri: listen it was huge and constantly flew at me, like there's a whole world out there!

Giorno:... Thanks Bri...

Bri: I should be thanking you... Trish and I going out for coffee, come with us?

Oooop so I droned on for a bit too long😅 gomen gomen, as always Thank you so much my sweet, I hope you have the best day 💐😚🌟❤️🌠🐞♥️🌸

[becleefishkeeping]

UPDATE.

A change of direction in the fishroom is in progress currently.

*Being rehomed tomorrow are

All the oscars, Dan the devil, the synspilum male and female, the super green texas male and Brutus the flowerhorn

*The 10ft getting a change of stock

*Malachi and the silver dollars are moving to a 6ft tank

*The polleni are moving to their own tank

*The jewels are moving to a different tank

*The neon blue acara are moving to a different tank.

*The severums are moving to a different tank

*The mudskippers have moved to a smaller tank

*The multi shellies are moving temp while I move their tank to a lower spot in the shed

*The old acara tank is moving to a lower position in the shed. It will be changing to a marine tank. Spike, Woofer and Elvis will be moving to this tank

*The 6ft marine will be getting new inhabitants (as now Spike isn't there to eat them!!) and a rescape (some sand/rock going to new marine)

*Draco and Fizzgig will be moving from a 5ft tank into a 4ft tank

*The new Thai silk flowerhorn will be getting its own tank.

*Satan and Angelus will be getting their own perm home.

Looking forward to this new chapter!