#honey vinegar consumes me

[invadernurse]

Catching Flies (Revised) Ch. 16

Chapter 16: Reality is Subjective

Overall rating: Teen

Summary: You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. That’s what they say anyway.

Teacher!Reader makes the mistake of trying to help the two most troubled kids in your class. This leads to forming a science club, learning some childhood psychology, adopting an alien older than you, and somehow catching Professor Membrane’s interest.

Afab Non-binary Reader;

The reader does have a last name: Nemo– which means no-name.

Chapter One |Master post |Ao3

**Several minutes earlier**

"Are we going to talk about the fact you called my dad and Mx. Nemo 'my tallest?'" Dib asked, an impish grin on his face as he followed Zim, who had long let go of his hand. 

"No!" Zim hissed. "As far as I'm concerned, it never happened!" 

"But you did." 

"I did not!"

"I was right there, Zim. You totally called them your Tallest." 

"The mighty Zim makes no mistakes!" Zim suddenly stopped and spun to face Dib, his eyes narrowed at Dib's delighted expression. "Foolish Dib-stink! You think I, the mighty Zim, would lower himself to call those two meat-bags my Tallest? That I would find them intelligent and honorable enough to think of them that highly?!" 

Dib didn't even waiver for a second. "You must, because that is definitely what you called them."

Zim snarled, and Dib quickly realized he might have pushed the alien a little too far. Before he could act, Zim pounced at him, tackling the boy to the ground. 

"Zim! No! Get off!"

"Not until you admit defeat, Dib-stink!" 

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing!" Dib defended, both verbally and physically as they wrestled each other, completely ignorant of the looks they were drawing. "My dad is the smartest human on Earth right now! And Mx Nemo's the first adult to treat us like actual people!" 

"Your paternal unit doesn't even acknowledge that alien life exists, and Mx Nemo can hardly understand your primitive computer system!" 

"I'm not saying they're perfect! I'm just saying I can understand why you see them as higher authorities! They treat you a lot better than your old Tallest did!" 

Zim went still, sliding off of Dib and sitting despondently on the ground. Dib took the opportunity to sit up, brushing the dust off his black coat as he warily watched Zim for a few moments. 

"I-I don't really mean to make fun of it," Dib admitted after a moment. "I mean, I have nothing but respect for both of them, obviously. And I guess I'm kind of…happy? Excited? That you feel the same. Because it means we aren't enemies anymore. We're friends now, right?" 

"Irkens don't have friends," Zim responded, more out of reflex than anything. The despondency in expression faded, replaced with something akin to embarrassment. "But…we are partners. Allies." 

Dib figured it was as close as he was going to get, and a lot more than he ever believed possible. Hell, if someone told him he was going to be friends with Zim just a few months ago, he would have called them crazy. 

"Ah ha, you two must be the students from inter-city middle skool!"

Zim and Dib looked up at a…person. Both Zim and Dib narrowed their eyes at the man that looked like something far too large stuffed inside a suit made to look vaguely humanesque. 

"I think that's actually worse than your human suit on peace day."

"Hey, cut me some slack! I had less than twelve of your earth hours to plan that!"

***

No. No no no. You couldn't be stuck. 

"Mx Nemo?" You could hear the professor, but couldn't respond. Not as the anxiety and panic gripped at you. You weren't usually claustrophobic but the bright blinding whiteness and cramped space as you tucked in closely to Professor Membrane's large frame, and your fears jumped at the chance to consume you. 

"Mx Nemo." Large, firm hands gripped your shoulders, grounding you somewhat. You stared up at him, able to see his eyes clearly through his goggles, dark eyebrows knitted in concern. "I am sincerely sorry, I realize now that was a very bad joke."

Joke. It was a joke. You slumped against him in relief, not thinking as you punched him half heartedly in the chest--his shoulder too far for your to reach. "You had me for a moment there," you admitted.

His hands still gripped your shoulder, though not quite as tightly. "Humor is not exactly one of my stronger skills," he explained rathwr weakly, which was odd coming from him.  

"I'm going to get you a book of dad jokes," you joked weakly in return, still leaning against him as your heart slowly returning to normal. "Or-or science jokes. Something." 

"I really am sorry." 

You shook your head, looking up at him. "It's okay. But let's focus on finding the boys." 

He tightened his grip for a moment before letting go. He turned, focusing on the blank wall, confusing you as he held his hand against the wall, but looking intently at his phone's display. But instead of asking, you kept silent and watched as he moved his hand along the seamless wall slowly. 

Did he have some kind of tech in his glove? Considering who he was, your guess was that it was far more advanced than the shoulder-length rubber glove it looked like. It probably was able to scan all sorts of things.

"There's too much interference," Professor Membrane growled to himself, stuffing his phone away. You despaired for a moment, maybe he hadn't been joking after all, when he pulled the glove off his arm. 

Oh. Oh. 

Your silence becamed stunned at his prosthetic arm. The intricate finger joints moved silently and fluidly as he searched the panel. There was a small blip of green light against the white, and the panels slid apart the reveal an electrical panel. 

"Well aren't you a beauty. Look at this work, Mx Nemo. Someone put a lot of time and care into wiring this. But…" The Professor's tone shifted for awe into dubious. "These flux capacitors are overkill for a simple elevator. The energy transmitting through these rival that of Membrane Labs. Why would a convention center need this kind of energy?" 

"What did our boys get into this time?" You swore softly. This was not what you had imagined when you realized the pair had wandered off. Unfortunately, it was right up their alley nevertheless. 

You missed Professor Membrane's glance at your (unintentional) choice of words. "They'll be fine," he tried to assure. "Between their intelligence and tenacity, I estimate that the chances of them being grievously harmed is less than twenty-five percent."

Those were good odds, right? You tried to convince yourself it was, but that fear and worry continued to gnaw at your stomach. 

Thankfully, before you could worry to much, the doors opened, revealing another long hallway, the same bright white walls lining the hallway. Professor Membrane led the way, his phone still blinking with Dib's location. 

The place was a maze, with the hallways twisting and turning, each one looking the same. You would have been lost a thousand times over. 

After a few twists and turns, you could hear someone speaking in a forign language, only for Zim's unmistakable laughter to abruptly interrupt. 

"You idiots! You dare try to intimidate the mighty Zim?! Ha! I'm Irken's greatest invader! Bow and tremble in fear! Tremble!"

There was more chattering as you and Professor Membrane tried to hurry. He was quickly outpacing you with those long legs of his, virtually forcing you into a run.

Whatever you expected, it wasn't Professor Membrane suddenly stopping and subsequently crashing into his back. "Well, that is...quite unexpected." 

You peeked around him and paled at the aight. 

Were those...koalas? Six feet tall, fuzzy grey and white with large eyes that stared directly back at you. You numbly noted the futuristic armour protecting their chest and limbs as they briefly raised on their back legs and bared their teeth in a snarl. 

Koalas...did not have sharp spiky teeth.  Nor were they as tall as you were.  Or decked out with weapons.

"Dad! Mx. Nemo!" Dib's voice cut through your astonishment. Relief swept briefly through you as you affrimed that both boys seemed unharmed. 

Then the not-koalas roared something that sounded like a foreign language towards Dib and Zim. The not-Koalas pointed weapons at both the children as well as you and Professor Membrane. 

"You dare call the might Zim a liar?!" Zim spat back while Dib paled slightly. Mechanical spider-like appendages unfolded from Zim's backpack, two supporting the boy into the air while the points of the other two sizzled with red electricity. "You dare threaten the mighty Zim's Tallest?!" 

"Boys!" You shouted, moving towards them only to have the Professor shove you behind him, his gloves virtually disintegrating, revealing both arms were robotic prosthetics, and vibrating with white energy. 

"Children, get behind me." Membrane commanded firmly. 

Zim hissed, "Invaders do not hide! We destroy those before us!"

"You're not an invader anymore!" Dib argued. "You're one of us now!" Zim's response was just a sibilant hiss.

"I am so confused," you admitted from behind Membrane, peering behind him. Space Koalas. Robotic arms and spider limbs. 

"I think we must be having a relapsing hallucination from memebraclets." Membrane admitted, though he sounded really doubtful. 

"Yeah, I still doubt that was the real story," you said distractedly. "I never had one or was around it, and I still remember everything too clearly."

"Well, with the only other explanation would be that were actually intelligent life, and we went through multiple wormholes and possibly even a blackhole. Which is scientifically impossible." 

"Aliens are real, dad!" Dib interjected loudly, gesturing to the non-koalas. "This is real! Not a crazy dream! They are here to abduct the smartest, most imaginative children to use as computers!"

"Their disgusting habits are known through the galaxy," Zim spat. "They deserve to be obliterated from exsistance."

"We were trying to convince them to leave peacefully." Dib stressed. 

You were so confused. You had started looking for them expecting they had wandered off exploring or getting into trouble. 

But. Aliens. So absolutely alien. The implications that this summer was real. The red sky with planets hanging heavy in the sky. The alien ships. The endless void of a black hole. 

Feeling like you were being ripped apart atom by atom and compressed into an infinitely small point at the same time. 

"It was real?" You whispered.  

"No. No, it couldn't be real," Professor Membrane stated firmly, shaking his head. "This can't be real. It's scientifically impossible. We would have seen signs, discovered radio signals, something." There was a desperate denial in his tone as Membrane clenched his fists. 

The alien-koalas made a noise that sounded like a laugh, interspersed with guttural clicks and growls. Zim snickered while Dib protested. "What?! Are you serious? All of that was a joke? You've been purposely avoiding humans?!"

"Well, to the intelligent beings of this quadrant, you aren't exactly that sharp. Playing with lesser beings is quite amusing," Zim chimed with a snicker, only adding to the confusion. 

Dib had accused him at first of being an alien… but surelt not. Surely not. "No. No way." You hadn't befriended and taught an alien for that several months. 

Yet it was making so much sense. The advanced knowledge, being abandoned. The technology. Dib was the son of the world's most intelligent man, but Zim…

Or was this actually a dream and that's why it was making sense? It felt so real, but didn't all dreams? You were so confused and torn, and you had the feeling Membrane next to you was just as lost judging by his stiff posture and heavy silence. 

Just...just focus on what was important, and leave all those questions for later. Whether it was a dream or not, you had to focus on the here and now and worry about the implications afterwards. 

"Leave them alone," you commanded with more bravery than you felt as you stepped forward, away from the protective form of Professor Membrane. You heard him whisper your name, quiet enough you were sure that it was an unintentional slip. You squared your shoulders and glared with as much authority as you could muster. "You leave those boys alone and leave this planet." 

The alien-koalas growled, clicking their teeth. 

"You dare threaten my Tallest!" Zim hissed, the energy at the end of his mech-spider legs flaring and threatening to fire. "You dare threaten the mighty Mx. Nemo?" 

"Hallucination or not, I cannot allow harm to come to my son, his friend, or Mx. Nemo." 

There was something encouraging about being flanked by a tall, broad-shouldered scientist with two mechanical arms whirring as they powered up, and a possible alien with lasers. Dib seemed to feel the same as he stepped between you and his father, looking rather stern faced as well. 

Except, instead of being threatened, the alien-koalas just chittered, a mocking kind of chittering that set your nerves on edge. 

The place erupted into laser fire. There was no time to think, only react. You grabbed Dib and pulled him behind the sturdy frame of his father, protecting him as best as you could. Sparks and fires erupted as energy blasts landed all around the control room. 

"Get out of here!" Professor Membrane shouted. The way you came was clear, so you dragged Dib with you towards the corridor. 

"Zim! Come on!" You and Dib shouted once you reached to safety of the corridor. 

"Invaders don't run away!" He snarled back, zapping the control panel which burst with a shower of sparks. 

"You're not an Invader, you're my student!" 

That made Zim pause, and it was all the Professor needed. He fired a shot rather reminiscent of an anime character before grabbing one of Zim's robotic legs and yanked the boy off balance and towards the corridor. He tumbled, the legs retreating into his pak, and before he recovered, you plucked him off the ground, holding him as if he was half his (assumed???) age as you ran down the hall, barely aware of where you were going. All you cared about was getting away from the cacophony of explosions and making sure Dib was keeping up beside you. 

Shortly, however, he too was scooped up as Professor Membrane caught up with you. "This way!" He commanded, turning a corner. "Their systems are more volatile than anticipated."

"It's possible we may have activated the self-destruct," Zim said, holding on to you while looking behind. "Or that they did, realizing they had been defeated by the mighty Zim!" 

"Not sure we won this one," Dib chimed. You were inclined to agree with him, but it was taking all you have to keep with the Professor's pace while carrying Zim. Your legs and lungs burned, but you kept pushing yourself harder. 

Thankfully, there was another corner and the elevator appeared. Or at least an elevator. You all but collapsed against the wall while Membrane jammed the call button. 

Except the doors opened to reveal a void instead of the blinding white elevator from before. "Where's the elevator?"

"Not above us," was Professor's answer as he peered into the darkness. "And neither can I detect it below us. I'm not sure if I possess enough power to carry all of us out…"

"Get the boys out," was your automatic response. Especially as you could both hear and feel explosions and fire creeping closer. You tried not to think of what was going to happen to you, and focused on the students safety. The innocent people above.  "Just--get them out. Evacuate the building." 

 Professor Membrane looked back at you, managing to convey his concern. "I find myself wanting to reject that idea despite the fact it's logical." 

"We are not leaving you," Dib agreed with his father. 

"You humans are disgustingly stupid sometimes," Zim growled as he extended his spiderlegs once more and grabbed Dib. "I trust you can at least carry Mx. Nemo?" 

"I-I'm not sure about this," Dib panicked, but Zim neither gave him nor Professor Membrane time to say anything before jumping into the void, the spindly robotic legs quivering as they caught both his and Dib's weight before skittering upwards like a true spider. 

"This hallucination is stranger than the last."

"God, I hope this is a crazy dream," you agreed before another explosion drew closer. This felt so real that you didn't have the courage to test out that theory. 

Yet, at the same time, you weren't sure what Professor Membrane's plan was, and you were too nervous to ask. 

"Right  dream or not," Professor turned towards you, arms open. "Shall we?"

"Er…" was your very eloquent response as you stepped closer. 

"I haven't carried anyone besides my children, so I do apologize in advance," was his response before suddenly lifting you up, one hand bracing your back and the other beneath your knees as he held you close. 

Your squeak turned into a scream as he stepped into the elevator shaft, dropping sharply. There was a click and suddenly you were shooting upwards. All you could do was clutch to Professor Membrane's neck and bury your head into his shoulder, barely aware of him gripping you a little tighter in response. 

After what felt like forever, the ascent slowed. You looked up and saw the faint light shining from the elevator doors that had been forcibly pried open. Emergency lights strobed, the sirens overwhelmed as by yelling and screaming in the Expo building as people hurried for the exits. 

Professor Membrane set you down, though his hand quickly grasped yours as you both made your way towards where the boys were. They were hard to miss, considering Zim’s mad cackle and the Rover drove circles around them, fire erupting from one of his robotic arms. 

“Really?” you panted as you reached the pair, gasping for breath. Rover stopped, the fire cutting off quickly. You weren’t even sure who your exclamation was pointed at, but Dib only gave a half hearted shrug as patted the Rover on its head. 

“We didn’t know how else to evacuate everyone. They were all standing around even after we pulled the fire alarm.”

“Now they run in fear of the mighty Zim! And Dib!” Zim was quick to tack on as soon as the other boy glanced at him. 

“I think this conversation would best be continued outside,” Professor Membrane interrupted before Dib could respond. The phone that had tracked Dib was now emitting a shrill alarm of its own. “This structure is highly likely to collapse from the impending seismic activity.” 

The ground rumbled beneath your feet, faint at first but quickly growing until you were having to hold on to Professor Membrange to keep from falling over. 

“Run!”

Dust and debris rained down as you tried to navigate your way out of the expo center, through the maze of long abandoned science projects. IF it wasn;t for the fact Professor hadn’t let go of your hand as he more or less dragged you behind him, you were sure you would have gotten lost. Though, you could faintly make out the light flashing off Zim’s robotic spider legs as he raced over the displays, and the Rover, carrying Dib, weaving through the tables like it was nothing. 

The doors opened to a sunny afternoon, yet the chaos had spread outside. People were scattering everywhere, panicked screams and crying  filling the air.  The tremors were becoming noticible further and further away from the building, to the points cracks were forming in the pavement under your feet.

A large one in particular formed that Professor Membrane just easily strided over with his long legs, but instinct quickly stopped you in your tracks as it screamed you wouldn't make it. Your hand slipped from his and you slid to a stop, harshly landing on you butt. 

The crack just kept growing larger and larger, steam, or maybe it was smoke, escaping with a hiss.

"Mx. Nemo!" All three boys called out, having quickly noted your absence. They were moments away from taking the leap themselves. That was all the encouragement you needed. You backed up a few steps before rushing forward and jumping over the gap. 

And, as you feared, you didn't make it. You felt yourself fall before you could reach the other edge, just shy of brushing the jagged rock. Below you could feel heat rise from whatever was exploding below to cause the mock-earthquake. 

Several somethings grabbed you from mid air, yanking you up and slamming you against the concrete on the other side before you could scream. 

You blinked as Zim's spider legs retreated  and the three looked down at you. "Ow." 

#invader zim #professor membrane #enter the florpus #dib membrane #catching flies #invaderzim #catching flies fic #invader zim zadf #professor membrane x reader #invader zim fic

[prolibytherium]

saw you posting about spiciness earlier, was it you who posted the recipe for the "virgin hot toddy" on your old blog? if so, could you repost that recipe? ive been stopped up as a motherfucker for days and at this point all i want is to be absolved in a great and purifying flame

Yes that was definitely me

Here is my Hot Toddy recipe, which is designed to destroy your esophagus with purifying flames so that any cold/flu throat pain you're experiencing becomes irrelevant

INGREDIENTS

Tea of choice (ideally something soothing to the throat like echinacea or licorice, but it doesn't matter because you won't be able to taste it)

Cayenne pepper

Dried hot pepper, dealer's choice

Ground ginger and/or tumeric

Apple cider vinegar

Lemon juice

Honey

Whiskey (Fireball if you hate yourself)

At least 5 cloves of garlic

STEPS

Put on hot water til it boils

Crush the garlic and let it sit in open air for 10 minutes (I read somewhere that this preserves some antibacterial chemical or other, no goddamn clue if this is true).

Pour your boiling water over the tea bag and garlic and spices and let sit for a while

Don't remove the garlic. You have to drink it with the garlic.

Add everything else besides the alcohol

Wait until it's cool enough to drink and add your whiskey/Fireball last (so that the alcohol isn't broken down too much by the heat.) You are going to want to be drunk for what is to come.

Stir

Consume

#The absolute bare minimum for this to still count as my method is tea with garlic + cayenne + honey + booze #Anything less and you are fully straying from the path of righteousness #I really encourage you to use Fireball because it helps if this beverage sucks ass as much as possible #If you don't drink alcohol substitute with extra ACV #Or perhaps nyquil

[whowantsmycompany]

and she who must not be named

the first time i ever truly fell in love with a girl was my senior year of high school. except i didn’t categorize it as love until i became sick.

i was never sure of my sexuality, i just knew i wasn’t completely straight. but she knew exactly who and what she was and she wasn’t afraid to show it. and i envied her for it. the first time i met her in my junior year something inside me clicked. all the out of place gears, knobs, threads, wires, all finally found their place. cliche, i know. she was radiant and funny and smart and witty and best of all, she taught me how to properly play uno.

we bonded over kpop and musical theatre and our love for tortured poets.

so it was only natural for me to whisper her my poems as she painted my nails so delicately i was afraid to breath, afraid i’d shatter our little sanctuary. her hair would fall over her honey eyes and the longer strands would tickle her button nose causing her to wiggle it like a new born bunny. i found it endearing and i passed the time counting her freckles on her honeyed skin and the eyelashes that fanned over her supple cheeks. she would send me declarations of love— or what i deemed as declarations of love— tiktok slideshows. silly little slideshows 13 year olds made saying the initials that show up were destined to be soulmates. hers and mine.

she occupied my mind the way a scorned lover replayed every act of love they ever received and gave. except i wasn’t scorned by her, i was enchanted. every thing was about her and i didn’t want it any other way. she was perfect in every way perfect can be. i would look up at the sun and think of her and wondered if she looked up to the moon and thought of me. i wanted to enchant her the way she had me. i wanted her to split me open like someone she wanted to know. i wanted to suffocate her thoughts and emotions the way she did mine.

she became the center of all my poems and dreams. i’d wish on the brightest star that she’d wake up tomorrow and realize i was stupidly in love with her. but it never happened. i could turn her into poetry but i couldn’t make her love me.

for my birthday she gave me the best and worst gift she could’ve given me.

she told me i looked like a good kisser and i jokingly told her she should kiss me to find out. and she did. it was fast; my mind didn’t even register it until she pulled away and let out a chorus of giggles that seemed to fade in and out as my heart began to skip and pick up its rhythm— i mistook it for the drums playing in the background. my ears began pooling with warm blood and all i could focus on was her eyes and the way they gleamed with a sort of shine that made me sick.

i walked back home that night knowing two things:

she had stolen my first kiss

2. and i wanted to cry

i wanted to cry because by tomorrow morning she would forget she even kissed me. it didn’t affect her the way it did me. it was her doing something for the hell of it but to me it was every thing i had wished, hoped, and prayed for.

maybe this was my punishment for praying for such a sin.

that night i felt every thing all at once. the love. the hate. the humiliation. ironically, my feelings about her kiss consumed me the way i wanted her to.

she stopped talking to me after that stupid kiss. i’m woman enough to admit it was partly my fault, i began ignoring her because just seeing her and looking into her eyes made me want to pluck mine out. i wanted to crawl out of my skin and scrub it raw, leave it to sit in a mixture of bleach, water, and vinegar. until it was fully disinfected and clean enough to crawl back in to and start all over and laugh off the kiss like it didn’t mean anything to me either and it was just girls being girls. but i couldn’t because i was in love with her. i loved her entirely that it spilled from my heart into my stomach and became a sense of dread and sadness. i waited for her to tell me the kiss meant everything to her and that she wanted me. she never did though and that invisible string that tied us together slowly started unraveling and i was walking around with a loose thread i didn’t have the strength to pull out.

sometimes, i can still feel it. the last intact strands of the invisible string that tied my heart to her. i write her into every poem that i create and in each one, she is full of some kind of light.

#this is all over the place #just wanted to rant abt my first ever gay girl love affair lol #i hope she’s doing well #i still look at the moon and think of her

[sokumotanaka]

https://twitter.com/TierganVashir/status/1588557274486013953?s=20&t=heXi-oFIhL_Gx3arSxK5og

Ah yes, another racist reveals himself. Unrealistic in medieval times; unlike you know, Giant Rabbit humanoids, Elves, Dragon people, Bipedal lion man and walking potato's. Japan’s been...on something recently, the topic of racism towards Black and Brown people seems to be getting worse and worse for no reason to the point I think they need to be checked up on. You can study art from ages ago and find there were black knights, solider, royalty!

and I can assure you, you’ll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, if you want brown and black people to buy your products, you’ll get more if they know you have their best interest in mind. Mindsets like this? you just alienate your consumers; now more people are regarding you as a joke, a racist, prejudice, ignorant and with what I read from this massive amount of text (Like I can talk right?) It definitely going to set future final fantasy games back! I wasn’t excited for FF16 and friends tried to get me into 14 and I was on the fence about it, now I want nothing to do with them

“Unrealistic” He really said that, Dragons are in, black people are out...Christ. for any ‘future’ creatives, always go for more representation than exclusion and gatekeeping. I assure you good games and dark skinned POC can go hand and hand in the video game industry, I mean look at Prototype, San Andres and Spiderman Miles Morales as some examples. I’m just...sigh, I’m so tired of fighting.

#yoshi-p #Final Fantasy #final fantasy 14 #Final Fantasy XIV #representation matters #black lives matter #BLM

[cure-icy-writes]

Okay, it’s late at night but i’m gonna be honest here. the more i mature as a person, the more i dislike seeing posts like “if you’re reading this, you should be writing” or mocking writers for having too many works in progress, or encouraging them to mock themselves for it.

Guess what! YOU are contributing to the grind culture and you need to stop and think critically about whether this is really encouragement, or if it’s going to lead to burnout and people slogging through WIPs that no longer resonate with them, all for the sake of that gold standard completionism.

Abandoned works in progress are part of the natural process of growing as a writer. Having too many ideas and not enough stamina for all of them is part of the natural process of growing as a writer. Eventually, you learn to grow your stamina, to create oneshots, to relegate certain AUs to remain just concepts or tumblr tags on your blog with a couple of posts, and not make everything a fic. Authors, like most humans, are capable of learning self-regulation if you give them a chance. 

And pushing them to create finished, easily consumable works? BRO WHY ARE YOU STUNTING THE NATURAL CREATIVE PROGRESS IN FAVOR OF SOMETHING THAT IS EASY TO CONSUME? Why do you encourage the mindless grind?

Idk man, it’s suspiciously close to the capitalistic mindset to me. Some people just have fun telling goofy little stories, and we as a society need to treat them as growing artists and not endless content machines. writers are human too! we need community and emotional investment. why don’t you stop going for the low hanging fruit of “go work on one of your 50 wips” and let people live. Better yet, go leave a nice comment on a work that hasn’t been updated in months or even years. A drop of honey versus a barrel of vinegar and all that.

#writing and being a content creator is exhausting and at times makes me wonder if it's worth it #i just. ugh we should have grown past this please let's grow past this and start supporting each other

[putuponpercy]

Am I alright to ask for a full list of food/cravings HC's for the characters?

It seemed like it'd be a really fun ask!

-

Does anyone have allergies?

Who hates Marmite?

Is anyone vegetarian?

Anything food related!

-

Love your art and little HC's!

Your little comic was all kinds of "Awwwww!"

First off - thank you so much ;u; your kind words really mean a lot!! 💖 Secondly, my goodness you were right this was such a fun ask to write for - it really got me stuck in and thinking about how different the characters eating habits are. I’ve only listed No.1 through 12 plus Diesel as I feel I haven’t had the chance to flesh out a lot of other characters as of yet 🙏

Thomas: A human hoover, will consume pretty much anything put on a plate in front of him. Has given himself food poisoning from his own cooking on multiple occasions, probably from the medium-rare chicken he specialises in. Not a big fan of tea.

Edward: Has a strong sweet tooth. His lunchbox probably contains more dessert than dinner. Snacks on some of those little wrapped hard-boiled sweets he keeps in his breast pocket - which he’ll sometimes give out to Bill and Ben if they actually behave.

Henry: Henry still struggles to maintain a healthy relationship with food after his time being so unwell and may need a gentle reminder to have something to eat during the day. Sometimes makes mac and cheese at 3am. Probably one of the few to admit that they enjoy fish. Is also allergic to peanuts. 

Gordon: Big lover of meats and protein. Typically has around 12 toppings on his sandwiches. Willingly starts arguments over which is the superior flavour of crisps - favours salt & vinegar. Probably the marmite enthusiast of the Tidmouth lot. 

James: Claims he can handle spicy foods but absolutely cannot. Tuna sandwiches are his guilty pleasure that not a single soul must ever learn about. Keeps a pack of polo mints on hand to hide the fish smell from his breath.

Percy: A coffee addict, prefers bitter tasting things. Not a fan of sweet foods at all such as chocolate, jam, honey etc. Lactose intolerant but that doesn’t usually stop him from enjoying pizza night with Thomas. 

Toby: Strikes me as the type of person who will eat the same meal for tea every single day for several weeks. He always insists on helping Henrietta cook in the kitchen. (Bonus I found this video shortly after writing that and it is absolutely them)

Duck: Dislikes eggs. Goes full-on with the roast dinners every Sunday, usually makes enough to feed the entire Little Western fleet and then some. Makes the best yorkshire puds.

Donald & Douglas: One prefers savoury, the other prefers sweet. People often have a hard time remembering who prefers which. Both are hearty drinkers and can pretty much always be found in the pub after work.

Oliver: Would probably eat around 10 packets of noodles in a day if given the chance.

Emily: The only one who seems to remotely care about her physical health and what sort of food she consumes. Mostly sticks to a plant based diet. Big lover of tea. Also Irn Bru - she has a secret stash of the stuff.

Diesel: Likes fast food or anything greasy. Not a fruit or veggie lover. Has probably deprived his body of water for some time. Similar to Henry, will make cheese on toast at around 3am for no reason other than he wanted cheese on toast.

#askbox #ttte #ttte humanized #thomas is also the type of person who willingly licked coal to see if it was any good #spoiler alert #it wasn't #pup's headcanons #TJP AU

[antiquatedsimmer]

Helena gazed thoughtfully into her tea, her expression reflecting her inner turmoil. "I cannot help but feel as though I have failed in my womanly duties, Edith," she confessed, her voice tinged with a touch of sadness. "It seems as though I am constantly misguided, making missteps at every turn."

Helena sighed softly, her voice filled with a mixture of vulnerability and confusion. "I do love Edward, and my children mean the world to me," she admitted, her gaze drifting into the distance. "Yet, there are moments when my emotions sway from an overwhelming sense of joy to a burning anger that consumes me."

Helena's eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and weariness. "You know, the books always paint motherhood as a natural calling for women, as if it's an innate gift bestowed upon us by the heavens," she confessed. "But the reality is far from that romanticized notion. I find myself struggling to keep up with Silas's boundless energy while trying to fulfill my wifely duties. I used to help with the farm, but now I can barely find the time or energy to contribute."

Helena's voice trembled as she spoke, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. "I can't help but feel frustrated with Edward at times. He's worked tirelessly to build everything from scratch, and I admire him for that. But lately, it seems like he doesn't understand how much I'm struggling. I must be failing as a wife, as a partner," she admitted, her voice filled with self-doubt. She furrowed her brow, desperately trying to hold back her emotions.

Edith leaned forward, her voice gentle yet firm. "My dear, you mustn't blame yourself. You are not a bad wife; you are a devoted mother navigating the challenges of motherhood. And if I may be so bold, men can be stubborn creatures, especially when confronted with frustrations and intensity," she explained

Lowering her teacup from her lips, she continued, "Remember, dear Helena, that honey catches more flies than vinegar. "

Edith chuckled warmly, "Your fiery spirit matches the vibrant hue of your hair. Sometimes a softer approach can work wonders."

#decades challenge #ts4 #decades legacy #ts4 historical #decade challenge #doyle legacy #helena doyle #silas doyle harrington #Edith coombes #decades story #decade: 1890s #decade: 1890

[unicornery]

a partial list of the increasingly difficult to find consumer products I like

Because I am apparently a man without a country who only likes niche items.

Tall kitchen white bags with FLAPS not drawstring. Ran into this today. Impetus for the list.

White vinegar in glass bottles (can still find at Wal-mart, “for now”)

Unfrosted strawberry Pop Tarts (some Hy-Vees have these)

Yogurt (incl Greek) made with whole milk

I used to get liquid Era detergent but then it became weirdly hard to find, and I eventually switched to laundry pacs/pods for cold and Tide powder for hot.

Gatorade G2. Where’d it go? I don’t want Gatorade Zero!

Raisin Nut Bran. It’s the most delicious cereal, and it’s so good there’s no store brand knockoff version. Why are they keeping it from people?

By the same token I’m still chasing the high of “Basic 4” cereal [edit - it was “Just Right” cereal!] that I loved when I was a kid. This one doesn’t count for the list bc it’s literally impossible to find as it is discontinued.

Not really the same but Fruit of the Loom changed the cut and fabric composition of my favorite underpants which really annoyed me

Oh! Duh! Diet caffiene free Pepsi or Coke. You used to be able to get 20oz bottles in bigger convenience stores but now I never see them :( Even some grocery stores don’t carry it! And rarely found on fountains anymore. Thankfully my local QT has CFDC.

Regular khakis for plus-size people

For balance, a discontinued product success story. Mom’s Best Cereals 86-ed their granola line, but my friend Hanna told me the parent company also made the Honey Bunches of Oats granola, and I tried that and it’s a pretty darn close dupe!

#shopping

[pinespittinink]

❛ i shouldn’t allow myself to get this close to you. ❜

Some In the Deep of the Trees for you cammie! Anden is a new character less than four days old (lmao); we’re going to see if his name sticks but I thiiiink it will for now.

{ subtle smut sentence starters }

🖤 Titus & Anden 💦

“I shouldn’t allow myself to get this close to you,” Anden remarks. He tilts his head to the side, long fingers playing against the lip of Titus’s shirt.

“Why?” Titus replies. His voice is sinuous, lapping through the dark. One hand is curled in the other man’s honey-blonde hair, holding him there like an animal caught in a trap.

“As if you aren’t aware,” Anden scoffs. “I wouldn’t be in this mess if I hadn’t gotten too close in the first place.” Anden meets his gaze, hazel of the sun shearing through the height of the trees Titus has only dreamed of. Blue crystal lights around his irises, a sapphire flame, and Titus thinks of the sky and the rumors of its vastness. “Besides, if I’m not careful enough, I think you might just eat me alive.”

It’s Titus’s turn to scoff this time, trenched with derision. Anden’s pupils darken as Titus lengthens the cut of his nails in his hair, sharp above the nape of his neck.

“I have no reason to devour you, Anden,” he says. “Your death would serve me no purpose. All my leverage upon you is linked to your breathing life.”

“True enough,” Anden replies, “but you may devour me yet.”

“I may,” Titus agrees, black with velvet and the serration of a knife, weighted and sure. “You’ve demonstrated it already before. You’ve no sense of self-preservation great enough to stop me.”

He kisses Anden full on the mouth, consuming. Anden meets him with vigor, one hand reaching up to lance itself through the decadent fabric at Titus’s back. It’s stripped away under the presence of the droonlight, Titus’s bare back a broad thing, dark amber rippling over muscle as he rests on his knees above Anden upon his bed, buried in him deep as Titus pins him down by a hand at his neck and the small of his back. He fucks him violently, no kindness in the action of it, not even a petal left to be shredded. Anden bucks back against him, the onslaught laid over him like rot, air punched from his lungs as he gasps and fists the abyss of the sheets, silk snaring between his fingers.

When he reaches for himself, pawing back between his legs, Titus tears his hand away with a snarl, gathering them both at the small of his back and forcing Anden down further, mouth popping open as his cheek is pressed against the bed.

“You’re a prick,” he gasps, vitriol slit through his tone like vinegar.

“You’ll come from my cock or not at all,” Titus growls at him in response, jarring Anden up the bed, sheets skewing under his knees. He ruts against him, sweat gathering and dripping down his back, against the length of Anden’s spine, and Titus grips his wrists tight, his other hand smothering in Anden’s pale lychee-honey hair.

He’s made Anden come this way before, untouched and throbbing. He’ll make it happen again. Anden had tried to wield control over him before, secrets lauded against his ribs to feather free across the shadows of the court, and Titus had taken it from him with his own tools—poisons and blackmail and carnal hooks. The only control between them now belongs to him, and Titus will keep it that way, tied tight in his grip like Anden’s breath as he gasps beneath him, fraught through and rippling with arousal and rebellion and dependence.

Anden is right, after all. He did get too close, and now he spends each day living on the tenuous rope of the consequences of his own blind actions.

#aninkwellofnectar #oc: titus #oc: anden #in the deep of the trees #my writing #asks #i thought Anden up while in the car the other day and I really like the dynamic offered between these two #blackmail galore

[gascon-en-exil]

What is your favorite mustard and how do you consume it? For me it's bister with a piece of boudin and bread

Unfortunately the availability of mustards in Louisiana is quite limited, with the most common being either American yellow mustard, which is so undistinctive that even calling it mustard seems like an insult, or tangy brown mustard usually seen in delis. Dijon mustard can be found in a number of groceries, and there's also the local Creole mustard which is like Dijon only coarser and with vinegar used in place of white wine. Creole mustard is good on poboys or as a dipping sauce with seafood, and it's also used as an ingredient in Louisiana rémoulade sauce. As a condiment with sausage - boudin, andouille, or even alligator - Creole mustard is a fine complement.

I wouldn't call those my favorite mustards however just because they're part of the local cuisine however; I tend to prefer mustard more sweet than spicy, which is most easily found here in honey mustards. They vary considerably in quality, but it's always great to find a restaurant that makes a good mustard in-house rather than relying on mass-produced slop. (Funny aside, thanks to fast food chain Popeyes there is a mass-produced version of Creole mustard as well, under the absurd name of "Mardi Gras mustard." Predictably, it has all of the spice with none of the subtler notes.)

#Louisiana Francophones #Louisiana cuisine

[a-skirmish-of-wit-and-lit]

Book Review: The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood

The Blind Assassin is a slow-building, serpentine tale. A meticulously designed story-within-a-story about two sisters, Laura and Iris Chase, that's interspersed with family secrets, suspense, romance, and a smattering of science fiction. It's a wondrously drawn study of character and of story.

More than anything, though, it's a saga: a saga that's as thick and as nebulous as the clouds after a storm.

There's a subtle deftness to the pacing in this novel, a tick-tock whose eminence grows louder and clearer in the periphery until it takes over, consuming everything it touches. As a reader, you are kept hanging on numerous frays - conflicted, pondering, curious, perplexed - yet all too determined to follow each one through to the end with the characters. There's a dire need to know what happens even if there are already suspicions pointing you in a particular direction.

Atwood has a way of keeping things suspended, scrambled, and dare I say, adrift, as she flushes out the characters who are central to this narrative. She takes her time. Layers them all through with honey and vinegar, complexity and eccentricity. I like that she wasn't afraid to capitalize on the darker side of the spectrum either, highlighting the melancholy, the villainy some possess, yet still managing to sprinkle in revenge and hope as final additives. Something about how she let the bleakness set in and marinate first made the end ingredients all that much sweeter.

This is not an easy book to read, per se. It's lengthy and demands a lot from you - time and attention as well as emotional dividends that will catch in your belly then rattle away in your head long after you settle among them - but it's thoughtful in its expression. Powerful. Poignant yet stark in its way, too.

Some may consider it to be too long, but I disagree. I prefer to think of it as a story that culminates--one that culminates deliberately.

3.5/5 stars

**Follow me on Goodreads

#ashlee bree's book reviews #the blind assassin #margaret atwood #classics #historical fiction #literary fiction #science fiction #recs: ashlee approved! #bookblr #book reviews

[motonijapan]

Discover the Wonders of Yuzu: A Household Speciality!

In the tapestry of Japanese culture, certain elements stand out like vivid brushstrokes on a canvas, weaving tales of tradition, symbolism, and sensory delights. Among these treasures is Yuzu, a citrus fruit cherished not only for its tangy flavour but also for its deep-rooted cultural significance. Join me on a journey to unravel the layers of meaning behind this humble yet remarkable fruit, as we explore its role in rituals, Japanese cuisine, and the collective soul of Japan.

You might know of the famous Yuzu-yu tradition that takes place in Japan. Where people enjoy a good Yuzu bath it is one of the famous practise that is followed and loved by the Japanese people but I am going to talk about the small traditions that occur in a normal household of any Japanese family involving Yuzu. These traditions are the reason why most of the Japanese respect and adore this little fruit that has so much to offer.

Yuzu is considered a symbol of Prosperity and Good Fortune although not in the same way as other symbols like the Japanese lucky cat (Maneki-Neko) or the pine tree (Matsu) but during New Year's celebrations Yuzu is often used as a decoration symbolizing freshness, vitality, and purification for the coming year. This shows the trust for Yuzu among the Japanese People. Yuzu branches are displayed in homes as well as public spaces. They are often arranged in vases or decorative containers, the green leaves and bright Yuzu fruit look elegant and enhance the festive ambience.

In many regions of Japan whenever a Yuzu dish is cooked in a household it is always shared with the neighbours symbolizing the affection, togetherness and common love for Yuzu among people. It is almost considered a small occasion if you get a Yuzu dish from your neighbours. After all who doesn't like a good Yuzu Marinade or Yuzu Sweet dish. Particularly during the Winter season, hot soups and stews with Yuzu Flavour are cherished. Made from yuzu zest and chilli peppers, Yuzu kosho is a spicy condiment, prepared in a Japanese household which is also commonly enjoyed during winter to add warmth and flavour to meals.

People in Japan also preserve Yuzu by making yuzu vinegar, yuzu marmalade, or drying yuzu peels for later use. Another inseparable part of the Japanese household is Yuzu-cha or Yuzu Tea. In Japan, Yuzu cha is made primarily from yuzu fruit, honey or sugar, and hot water. Optionally, additional ingredients like ginger or cinnamon may be added for extra flavour and warmth. It is a very refreshing drink consumed very often but this hot Yuzu cha is enjoyed by Japanese people, especially during cold winters. They take Yuzu-cha in small teacups or larger mugs, depending on personal preference and enjoy its flavour and warmth with comfort. Some people also like to have it chilled during warmer weather.

Yuzu is hence called a versatile ingredient and has a big role in the Culinary and Festive culture of Japan. It connects people to seasonal traditions and rituals. Yuzu has been getting immense love from households in Japan over the past so many years. Its flavour and exotic taste are deeply rooted in Japanese people's minds and its spectacle brings a feeling of homeness in their hearts. Overall, it is a cherished ingredient and cultural symbol deeply ingrained in Japanese culture.

#citrus #Japanese culture #Japanese #tradition #Japanese household #Yuzu #citrus fruit #fruit #soul of Japan #Japanese cuisine #Yuzu-yu #Yuzu bath #Prosperity #Good Fortune #New Year's celebrations #festive #Yuzu dish #Yuzu Marinade #Yuzu Sweet dish #Winter season #hot soups #yuzu zest #Yuzu kosho #flavour #yuzu vinegar #yuzu marmalade #Yuzu-cha #Yuzu Tea #refreshing drink #comfort

[craftysuitgoatee]

15 Best Pinterest Boards of All Time About Buy Penis Envy near me

Millions of people are affected by acne all over the world, as the number of skin care products proves it available in the market for treating pimples. Many of the over-the-counter products meant for treating acne contain chemicals, which might deteriorate the skin and might be only a temporary remedy. As the people are now aware of the hazards of the chemical usage, everyone is looking for a natural and herbal remedy to treat acne. Herbal medicines are not harsh because it does not contain any chemicals and are compounded mixtures of naturally available plants and herbs.

Some of the natural herbal treatments for acne:

Natural treatments can be in the form of lotions, creams, home made products or even herbal formulations. Below listed are some ingredients, which can be procured from a herbalist and made to use for treating acne.

Echinacea and tea tree oil are the very common natural herbal remedies known for treating acne and is available widely. Echinacea and Oregon grape can help in increasing the immune system of the body. While tea tree oil consists of terpenoids, which is known for its antifungal and antiseptic property.

Green tea is used in the defense of bacteria lowering the hormone activity, thus acne can be controlled. Almond oil is very good in removing acne scars.

Apricot and citrus juices alleviate the presence of cysts and acts as a natural exfoliate, getting rid of the dead skin cells making the pores free from clogs.

Distilled white vinegar can be applied as a topical solution on the affected area to cleanse the pores. Honey mask helps in the healing process of the skin affected by acne due to its anti bacterial quality.

Green The original source tea, chamomile and oatmeal are excellent herbs for treating inflammation due to its anti inflammatory properties. It helps to soothe the affected part and aids in the release of heat and making the skin to heal properly. When the affected part is washed with oatmeal, the itching sensation is reduced. Ginger helps to reduce redness and inflammation and can be consume in any form.

Licorice is a very important herb used in the treatment of acne since the Middle Ages. Licorice increases mucous secretion, stimulating the adrenal gland function making the natural defense system of the body into overdrive to remove bacteria and germs responsible for acne and pus.

[sincerelytwiggy]

Flies By Bell

He told me I was sweet,

words cascading across my neck

Whispers in my ear

I was his honey.

       -his.

so treacly I’d give him cavities.

His lips find mine and

I leave my trace in every smile he has.

Reminding future lovers I did exist-

Before him-

Without him-

His honey, so sickly sweet-

The birthplace of his decay.

He tasted like vinegar.

A sick feeling pooling in my stomach

the stench burning me from inside out.

I was consumed in a fit of pique

behind this facade of sweet.

He was my fly, a disgusting creature

infesting everything. I was nothing 

to him-

only used for his consumption

Plaguing my days in affliction,

I no longer wished to be sweet-

Honey turning sour.

I felt nothing

when I broke his heart.

more flies would come,

They would continue to consume

Till my honey is gone-

Till i’m spoiled-

fermented-

The flies keep coming.

#poetry #original poem #love poem #dark poetry

[acollectionofsleeplessnights]

I thought I could be like that. Like the cords in your favorite mellow acoustic guitar song. Striking like a pendulum that is always dragged back just before it hits the wall. Existing to vibrate profoundly within the basin of the wood. Scarce but undeniably present. I thought that I too could be sunshine…but if I had that kind of opulence, I would give it all away before I ever really knew what to use it for. The night is better. There’s a way to be unseen and empty once it comes. The way it wraps its arms around you. Quiet. Every-pressing. An all-consuming façade of warmth.

My mother used to tell me that, “You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.” But I keep hoping that if I leave the honey out the bees will come back instead.  Maybe if I bring them the sun they’ll think my brain is paradise, and I’ll finally have answers for all the racket in my head. Maybe I’m so used it that I don’t even see it for what it is anymore.

I watch Icarus weep in the swaying armchair. The same one that held my mother’s bones when she couldn’t bear to sit up anymore…and I see the flesh decay into the fabric again and again, vibrant with grotesque color.  I hold myself close to the heat, huddling next to the fire not for warmth—but for color. If I practice becoming in the dark, I won’t end the same way all things have. It will be different this time. It has to be.

#writing #personal #spilled ink #creative writing #thoughts #prose #collective #I’m not sure anymore #depression

[lakelandseo]

Three Irish Small Business Ideas that Could Be US Hits

“Knitting the Islands”, by Miriam Ellis

A happy and lucky St. Patrick’s day to all my readers! I’ve seen it again and again that small and local businesses became successful due to a great inspiration and some little happenstance bit of luck that got them noticed. Today, I’d like to celebrate with you by offering a shamrock of three ideas I’ve seen taking off in my mother country of Ireland. You may not replicate the exact business model, but do take away the underlying concepts which I strongly believe could succeed in the US. I’ll also point out how you can help luck along with a little creative marketing. Share this article with your team for brainstorming new campaigns, or with anyone in your life who wishes they could start a small business

Finding the "grá"

Ever wondered how to say “I love you” in Irish? One way is "tá grá agam duit" (taw graw ah-gum duts/ditch). It’s not uncommon to hear Irish folk saying they have a "grá" for something when speaking English, and to me, the word not only conveys love but a kind of longing. When people have a "grá" for some really good bread, or a trip to the seaside, or a warm coat they saw in a shop window, it’s what we might call “consumer demand” in American marketing lingo. Pay attention right now, and you may be starting to notice people in the US and elsewhere expressing a special kind of "grá" for a different life. Recently, such a thread stood out to me on Twitter, started by author and founder Dave Gerhardt.

Software, of course, isn’t going anywhere any time soon, and the more we see of the current state of AI chat, the less many analysts are convinced that it’s going to be a major disruptor at present, but what I observe in this tweet and the replies to it is that people are starting to get tired of the one-dimensional confines of too much screen time. Wanting a satisfying local life and community “IRL” is a great "grá" statement. Americans are deeply attached to our tech, but more and more, I’m running across peers talking about having an “analog life”, wishing their kids would become “luddites”, or wondering how an off-grid life would feel for their families. More simply put, many people would like to experience more satisfaction in what is right around them.

This dynamic is, in fact, tailor-made for small business entrepreneurs, so let’s look at these three aspirational concepts to see if you or your clients have got a "grá" tugging at you for any of them.

1. Be about life

Within living memory, it was the mark of respectability to have your little weedless patch of green lawn. You constantly cut the grass to keep it under tight control. You yanked out every dandelion - or worse - poisoned your own nest with herbicides. Think things never change for the better? I hear you, but check out TheIrishGardener because now, instead of rolling out bundles of monocrop sod, the Irish are carpeting the outdoors with native wildflower matts. One dimension isn’t enough anymore - folk want flowers and bees and moths and butterflies and bugs and more of everything alive. Yard by yard, they are reinvigorating essential ecosystems. Clever wildflower seed sellers are now marketing their products like seed matts and seed bombs not just to homeowners but as wedding favors, holiday gifts, classroom projects, and more.

There’s been such a base trend in US marketing in which we try to sell things to our neighbors by scaring them. Our ads are full of guns, screaming, threats, panic, anxiety, and danger and it’s very weird contrasting this with the ads I listen to on Irish media which seem to be largely focused on green energy, eating nice things, and enjoying the arts.

Could your great small business reject fear-and-shock-based marketing and instead hinge on beauty and satisfaction in life? We do have that old adage of drawing more flies with honey than vinegar, and if you can align your business with the very strong yearning for life to be abundant, varied, diverse, interesting, healthy, and fun, I think you’re moving away from the old lifeless lawns to the new thriving garden.

2. Be about locality

There’s only one place you can get real Irish seaweed - from the coasts of the country, of course! WildIrishSeaWeeds.com is one of those rare businesses that has seen the potential in a gift of nature that many might pass by without noticing. Seaweed is practically a miracle - you can eat it, bathe in it, and use it as a very carbon-friendly fertilizer that elders have always sworn by. What was once mainly a snack remembered fondly by children is now becoming a serious green industry in Ireland, and not far from where I live, I see a Californian company testing whether they can latch onto a similar demand in the US.

What is overlooked where you live? Is it something that can only be gotten in your local area? Something people used to love but are forgetting about now? Maybe it’s a local food source that’s starting to disappear because no one is using it anymore, or maybe its a skilled craft like basketmaking in a local style, baking or brewing a regional speciality, knitting or sewing a heritage garment, compounding an old-time remedy. Maybe it’s reviving a tradition that used to anchor your community. Could your great small business idea simply be about reconnecting neighbors with what’s special about where you live…a place that may have started to have vanished in our collective consciousness because the screens are blocking the view?

3. Be about people’s simplest pleasures

Our SEO lives may be consumed with ChatGPT right now, or GA4, or what will happen next on or to Twitter, but Padraic Óg Gallagher is up on the balcony of his restaurant, growing real Irish potatoes for his Boxty House in Dublin. If you’ve never had the luck to eat boxty, it’s a delicious potato cake, beloved enough in Ireland to be the inspiration behind a restaurant that’s seen such success, it was able to open a second location. Boxty is not fancy. It’s something your mother would make you from leftovers, something treasured from childhood, the memory of which warms your very soul.

If we look again at Dave Gerhardt’s Twitter thread, he’s not longing for a yacht, nor a manion, nor a pot of gold. He just wants the simple pleasure you get from “building in your community.” Most of us can be plenty happy with just enough, and rather than creating a business idea around elite luxury, consider what you might offer that actually delivers human contentment to the most people. A basic kitchen good that isn’t made well any more? A handcrafted walking stick? A cozy bookshop, a guided tour for visitors, your grandmother’s pecan pie, a wooden toy, a cloth doll, a sturdy garden implement, a bayberry candle, a regional herbal tea?

The simpler and better quality your idea, the more of a welcome change it could be for customers increasingly expressing fatigue from low-quality, mass-produced, and very limited options. America’s Vermont Country Store has been outstandingly successful in helping people relocate fundamental merchandise they can’t find anymore. Study their approach.

Creative marketing of your small business idea

What can you do to catch the eye of your audience? You’ve probably guessed that I’m going to say that, no matter how small your local business, you’ve got to have a website and local business listings. 30 years ago, I would have said this about the telephone book, and however much we may long for more off-screen time, we’ve got to concede that the web makes it so easy to be found! So yes, publish the best website you can budget for, build out your Google Business Profile and other listings, and invest all you can in learning about digital reputation management. It will help you achieve your goals.

That being said, the room there is beyond the web for creative marketing could fill all the pages of the Book of Kells. If you’re starting out quite small, try these low-tech approaches to getting the word out about your new business idea in your community:

Ask an established business owner to host you as a pop-up shop inside their store, perhaps for tourist season or the holidays.

If you produce enough volume, meet with local shop owners to discover whether your product could win a permanent place on their shelves.

Approach local reporters with the most succinct, newsworthy angle of your business to seek press.

Real-world community message boards still exist in some towns. Use them.

Put a sign outside your house or in the window of your apartment. No room? Ask local officials for permission to put a sign in a vacant lot or on a street corner where you’ve seen other signage posted. Be ready to sell them on how your idea benefits the community.

Research local regulations regarding hanging fliers around town.

Research whether there is an opportunity for you to be included in existing print catalogs. 90 million Americans purchase something from a catalog annually, and even as the Internet has become so established in our lives, catalog shopping has continued to trend upwards.

Found or join a local business organization for brainstorming, networking and cross-selling.

Coordinate with other micro-business entrepreneurs to host a shared party in a local park, acquainting your community with your presence and offerings.

Sponsor local teams, events, and people and be cited for it both on and offline.

If your community still has a local radio station, try to get on it, either with an ad or as a guest, to reach 82.5% of US adults.

If you live in an area favored by tourists, contact the local visitors’ center to see how to get listed in their publications.

Advertise in the mailers and bulletins of local houses of worship and schools.

If what you produce relates to any type of food, music, art, cultural, or local festival, participate in it.

“Little as a wren needs, it must gather it.”

I’m closing today with this famous Irish proverb, because it seems right for this moment in America, where the myth of endless growth and the dangers of an unchecked appetite for luxury have done no favors to the economy or environment our whole people must live in. The Irish phrase, “Cé gur beag díol, caithfidh sé a sholáthar,” has traditionally been used to remind us that even the small wren has to work hard to provide for itself - a scenario every small business owner and local business marketer will easily relate to.

But I’m starting to see a double-meaning in this phrase, and new business trends in Ireland are helping me to see it: a more sustainable way to found a venture may be in asking not how much you want, but how little you actually need to be satisfied. SEOs everywhere already know it’s a best practice to get clients to define what success looks like before a project begins so that all parties can see when a goal has been attained. For most small business owners not seeking to become big business owners, achievement will simply mean something along the lines of being able to pay themselves and their staff enough to have a modest, good life. To me, this recognition matters right now, because most customers are in search of the same thing - having just enough.

Whether it’s through thrifting in Ireland or thrifting in America, re-storing in Drogheda or re-storing in Simi Valley, eating local and organic at Moyleabbey Farm in Kildare or at Waxwing Farm in Washington, or preserving traditional crafts that last on that side of the water or on this, tandem trends are indicative of a search for a simpler, better life. 57% of Americans say they shop small to keep money local, and there is no overstating how much both nearby economics and the global climate benefit from this approach. If you’ve decided 2023 is the year to lean into the new/old ways by starting or marketing small businesses, I’d say the luck may be on your side!