#i am not your mammy

[greynatomy]

unexpected

katie mccabe x reader

this was requested from wp

kinda made caitlin as the ‘bad guy’ but it’s for the plot

i also updated my rules for requesting and added the footballer who i’ll take requests for

———

Another day, another training done for the Arsenal women’s team. Katie sat on the sidelines, catching her breath and winding down from the scrimmage. As she’s drinking from her bottle, a shadow casts over her.

“Hi, Katie.”

“Caitlin.” She acknowledges the Australian.

“Uh, well, I was wondering if you wanted to try this restaurant I found last week?”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. They have really amazing food. So?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll tell the team.”

“No, wait.” She tries to clear up her intentions, but Katie already walked away. “Great.”

Two hours later, the whole team had met at ‘Sapori’ and waited at the front of the building for everyone to show up.

“Hey.”

Looking to her left, she see’s Caitlin shuffling closer to her.

“Hi.”

“This is a really great restaurant. The ambiance is amazing so I’m glad you’re here to try it out.” Caitlin breaks the moment of awkwardness.

Katie’s lips form a tight smile. “Yeah, I’ve only heard great things.”

“Alright, let’s head in.” They heard Leah say as everyone that could make it has finally shown up.

It took a while for everyone to figure out where ghey want to sit, but they made it work. Katie took her place at one end of the table, Caitlin taking place on her left side.

Conversations were flowing freely, everyone with a smile on their face. Katie was chatting it up with Beth and Viv when she feels a hand delicately going up and down her arm, making her flinch her arm away.

“What’re you doin’?” Katie snaps, eyebrows furrowed.

“Sorry, just wanted your attention.” Caitlin frowns.

“Okay.” She slowly nods. “Just don’t do that again.”

The food came out soon after, everyone hungry and diggin in.

“Sorry, excuse me? We didn’t order these.” Leah spoke up when extra dishes were placed on the table. Katie didn’t care, she dug into all that she could reach.

“These are just some dishes that the owner would like you all to try.”

“Well, please thank her for us.”

Everyone was in their own little groups talking about anything and everything at the same time. A couple of moments go by when Katie feels small hands on her thighs. Looking down she sees a little girl who seems to try and get onto her lap. So what does she do? she helps the girl up, getting her comfortable on her lap and wrapping an arm around her.

Said child, once content on Katie’s lap, grabs the fork and starts eating the food in front of her. Katie occasionally wipes her mouth with a napkin, the child unbothered by it.

Too occupied in helping the kid eat, she doesn’t see the looks on her friends’ faces. The group silently observes Katie and the kid, seeing how comfortable they are with each other.

The kid turns in Katie’s lap, hands going on both cheeks pulling her close. Katie thinks she’s going for a kiss so she leans down, except instead of a kiss, the gnocchi that was once in the kid’s mouth, was now in Katie’s.

“Ugh, Em! Not again.” She spits it out, wiping her mouth after. All Emmy does is laugh and goes back to eating. A couple of throats can be heard clearing, making Katie look up to see all her friends staring at her. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘what?’ You’ve got a child on your lap.”

“Ye’ and?”

“Who’s child is that?”

“Completely hers.” A voice speaks up before Katie could answer. “She’s a menace and gets it from her mammy.”

“Mamma! Io mangio!”

“I can see! You’ve got sauce all over your face.” You wipe her face with a napkin. “How are you guys enjoying everything?” You ask the group.

“Oh, it’s amazing! Best thing I’ve ever eaten!” Beth exclaims.

“Who are you?” Caitlin asks.

“I am the owner of Sapori, Y/N McCabe. So nice to meet all of you. And yes, I know the last name isn’t Italian, but I just so happened to fall for an Irish.”

“Oi! Don’t make it seem like that’s a bad thing.”

“Oi!” Emmy echos.

“Wait!” Kyra says very loudly. “McCabe? So does that mean Katie’s your—”

“—Wife? Yes, unfortunately.”

“You’re beeing cheeky. Stop it.” She boops your nose.

You start to pick up some of the empty plates, giving everyone a smile.

“Hey, hey, hey! What’re you doin’?”

“I’m gonna take these back?”

“You’re not allowed to carry anything!”

“Katie, babe. I’m pregnant, not crippled. Plus, I’m barely even showing.”

“Aww, you’re pregnant?” Kyra goes to touch your stomach, but her hand gets smacked away by Katie.

“Katie! Be nice. And yes, I am.”

As the rest of the team fusses over Emmy and your belly, Caitlin decides to speak to Katie.

“So, you’re married?”

“Yup.”

“Why’d you make it seem like you were interested in me.” Katie didn’t know if she was being serious or not, but started laughing out loud.

“I don’t know what you’re on about mate. Probably just a figment of your imagination.”

#woso x reader #woso #greynatomy #woso imagines #woso imagine #katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #woso community

[crimsonred-hi]

What do you mean grey?!

Pairing: dad!Andrew Hozier-Byrne x wife!Reader

Warning: aging

Summary: Andrew with his beautiful hair and beard, he’s very proud of them both: of the length, the colour, the health of it. And one day, one very long day, where he’s spent his whole day being stern dad to his daughter, and at the end he gets in bed with his wife and the mother of his child just for her to notice something in his hair.

He falls into be at the end of the day, feeling like his joints are about to separate. He can’t even turn his head to look at his wife.

“Andy?… what’s the matter, handsome?”

He hums, not really wanting to speak. Their daughter, Mavis Raine Hozier-Byrne, is a little shit, well not really, she’s got ADHD like her mother [I have ADHD, I’m projecting a bit] so she’s a little bit bouncy… hyperactive. She’s hyperactive. And Andrew took her to see his parents house, and the little lass didn’t really register to be careful with her grandpa. There was a lot of stress on Andrew and his mother’s part, but Andrew’s dad didn’t really give a shit because he was too busy enjoying his time with Mavis.

He sighs, thinking back on the day, finally turning his head to his wife’s side of the bed. She runs a hand though his hair, scratching his scalp, making him sigh.

“Was she being difficult?”

He nods, fluttering his eyes to look at her, his eyelashes are really long and very ginger, and with the current sun in Ireland his cheeks are covered in freckles and all his hair has lightened to a red auburn colour.

“Oh-“

What was that? He looks up at her confused, why did she go ‘oh’?

“What’s the matter, honey…?”

She looks back at him, not knowing what to say to him, glancing back and forth between his eyes and his hair.

“Just…… a few strands of grey…”

He shoots up, all that tiredness from seconds ago is gone, as he shoots up to go to your bathroom to look at his hair.

Fucking grey hair. In his mane and beard.

“I’m going fuckin grey! I’m not old enough to go grey! Why am I going grey!”

She laughs at him, giggling, moving up to cuddle into his side. She slots herself in his side, her hand on his stomach and her head on his shoulder.

“Honey. I’m going fuckin grey.”

She looks up at him smiling,

“Nothing wrong with it… plus, because your a red head, your hair is gonna go white and not grey.”

“WHITE!”

“Mammy?… da?… why are ya yelling?…”

A small girl with curly, auburn hair, walking into her parents ensuite bathroom after being awoken by her dad’s yelling.

His wife hits his chest, then giggling (trying to wind him up more),

“Look at that, you’ve got a grey in your chest hair.”

“Y/N!”

She laughs, before moving to their daughter, picking her up and kissing her cheek.

“Mavis, do ya want ta see ya da’s grey hairs?”

The girl wipes her eyes, and giggles,

“Da has grey hairs? Why does he have grey hairs? Is da really old?”

“No! I am not old, Mavis!”

His wife laughs at him, carrying their daughter towards him. Y/n moves her hands through his chest hair, making a free grey hairs more noticeable.

“Look at that, Mavis, da’s getting grey hairs… look at his beard.”

Mavis moves her small hands to her dad’s cheeks, looking at the small greys on the sides of his cheeks.

“DA’s going grey!”

Andrew sighs, looking at his wife and daughter, giggling hysterically at him. He pouts,

“I am going to bed.”

His girls giggle.



#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #hozier x reader #the hoziest #hozier imagine #hozier oneshot #hozier my beloved #unreal unearth #hozier fluff #dad hozier

[pictureinme]

hey, it's the anon from the ask for @mypoisonedvine, that I asked for breeding/mom!kitten, I saw the answer yesterday but I was so shocked that BOTH of you answered me that I just took sometime to process, anyways....(I'm a little bit shy now) if you want and could write, it would be amazing, love your writing, thanks for taking your time to write things for us ♥️

i'm so happy you sent this at ALL, n the fact that i got 2 do it... i am honored. MWAH MWAH MWAHH I HOPE YOU LIKE IT im def doin more w momma kitten ...

little one

patricia ‘kitten’ braden x f!reader word count: ~1.3k tags: fluffy smut, breeding kink, nipple play, established relationship (they're each others wives <3), pregnancy, baby shopping

(ao3)

Kitten rubs at your thighs, kneading ever so slightly, while your hands are running through her soft curls. The two of you had been like this for an hour now, just feeling each other’s bodies in the dark. Times like these were your favorite, there was no pressure to perform.

Her hand moves up your thigh, delving ever so slightly underneath your silk slip– well, it was hers, but how could you resist such opulence?

You smile to yourself as she massages around your mound, taking her time with you like always, “Did you need something, Kitten, dear?”

She hums coyly as she’s wont to do, “Perhaps…”

With that barely escaping her mouth, her fingers dip to delve between your folds, collecting the wetness from her constant petting. You breathe out a gentle moan as she explores those oh-so-familiar parts– it was really air escaping from your lungs with a sigh more than anything. Kitten was an expert at teasing, but there was none of that tonight, she wanted you to feel every sensation as it was meant to be felt.

Her other fingers, unbeknownst to you, lift up her own slip, revealing her already reddened cock to the cool air of your bedroom. She hums as she continues to touch you, but her other hand wraps around her length, slowly moving it to prod at your entrance.

You gasp at the suddenness, “Oh, that’s what you wanted? Could’ve used your pretty voice– ah!”

It seemed Kitten was of the impatient variety tonight as she suddenly pushed inside of you, unworried about the lack of ‘proper’ lubrication– she just needed to feel your warmth.

“Darling, you are so perfect,” she moves closer to you, her thighs touching your own as she moves all the way inside. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, my God…”

Kitten’s eagerness did not go unnoticed with the way her deep thrusts already reached your cervix, that delicious feeling threatening to overtake you already. Her moans were quiet at first but grew in volume and urgency as she heard your own.

She moves her hands to rub at your breasts through the silk, the feeling equally intoxicating to the both of you. Your nipples had been hard throughout her ministrations, so it was very welcome when she pinched them gently. Kitten's thrusts were deep, but slow as she felt each and every sensation your body would give her.

"God, you're perfect," she lets out a breathy laugh, "Can't wait to fill you up, hm?"

You mewl at her words, an aspect of your sex life barely explored coming to light, "Please, please…"

"Want to put a little one in you," she pets at your breasts harder, "These would get so sensitive and full, wouldn't you be a perfect little mammy?"

Kitten's flirty words were betrayed by her ragged breath, she was the one who needed to breed you– it was the most perfect idea in her eyes. Carrying her child, growing full with the love you two shared… a constant reminder, wouldn't it be? How could she ever resist that?

You grind back on her, meeting the thrusts with an eagerness that glinted in your eyes, "Please, darling, want you to come inside– want you to get me pregnant, fuck!"

She grins widely, pinching your nipple and reaching her other hand to rub circles around your puffy clit, "You're gonna love it so much, gonna take such good care of you, aren't I? Christ, you're gonna look even more heavenly with a full belly..."

Her continuing praises turn to fuzz in your brain as you feel that knot unfurling. Your orgasm overtakes you like a tsunami, the warmth enveloping your entire body– tingling all the while. The level of bliss as Kitten continued to chase her own release was immeasurable.

You pull your slip down fully so she can properly knead your chest– you knew she needed to see them when she filled you to the brim.

"Perfect little tits, my love," she chokes out, "Gonna suck them while I give you all the babies I want, oh!"

That's exactly what she does: her moans are muffled as she sucks incessantly at your nipples, the thrusts becoming shallower but faster. You whimper into the overstimulation, back arching off of the duvet. Kitten’s nails scratch down your sides, you could feel her everywhere.

At the height of pain and pleasure, you feel that telling stutter as she fills you– just as she promised.

Kitten’s gasps continue as she stills deep inside of you, not letting one drop leave you, “Can’t blame a girl for being thorough, can you?”

You giggle tiredly, head thumping back against the inordinate amount of pillows she always buys, “Kiss me, lover.”

Standing at the kitchen counter, you watch as the water takes its sweet time boiling. What is that phrase about watched pots? Whatever.

Distracting you from your obviously very important duties, familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, and Kitten whispers into your neck, “What a lovely little wife you are, hm?”

“I didn’t hear you come home, love,” you crane your neck for her to nuzzle, “I… actually have a bit of a surprise for you.”

She nips at your jawline, smiling into it, “Is that so? Is it a nice or naughty surprise?”

You bite your lip as you move her hands to rest upon your stomach, “This kind of surprise.”

Kitten inhales quickly, you can feel her hands shaking slightly, “Oh, my… do you really… are you?”

“I’m pregnant, Kitten, dear.”

Hesitating only for a millisecond, she hugs you from behind– and you flip around to properly hug her. Tears are welling in either of your eyes, genuine smiles on your lips. You giggle from the thrill of it all– you’re really carrying Kitten’s child.

“I can’t believe it,” she squeezes your arms, making sure she isn’t in a reverie. “We’re gonna be mothers… oh my goodness, darling.”

You nod, tears of happiness spilling, “I took three tests to be sure. You’re gonna be such a lovely mum, Kitten, I just know it.”

She grins widely, tears glistening on her cheeks as well, “We are, (Y/N), we’re going to be lovely mums.”

The two of you bask in each other’s presence, simply hugging and kissing until the water in the pot begins to boil.

“Now, I know we don’t know the sex just yet,” Kitten walks with you in tow down the town center, “However, we simply must begin decorating, right?”

You chuckle, shaking your head slightly, but not in disagreement, “Darling, I’m only a month along now, can’t it wait?”

She huffs dramatically, putting a hand to her forehead, “My Lord, (Y/N)! By the time you’re wanting to decorate, you’ll be too laden with our child! It’s really for the best if we do this now, trust me.”

“As you wish, my love.”

Kitten enters many a store with you, deciding that yellow would be the most appropriate color for your little bundle of joy– the two of you were never the biggest proponents of assigned gender roles. Plus, it helped that Kitten simply adored all shades of it.

She popped onesies, toys, blankets, all sorts of things into the basket– you couldn’t deny how intoxicating it was to see her so enthused. She never refrained from checking in with you on whether you liked her choice, but you always did (ignoring the gauche pram she desperately wanted you to haul around town).

By the end of the day, she was hauling bags upon bags of simply baby supplies– not forgetting the maternity clothing you needed in the coming months, but Kitten insisted she would style you in much better things than those stores had.

All you needed to worry about was pushing the pram she bought home, a delicate-looking but strong place to show off your babe to all the jealous women of the town– that’s how Kitten described it, at least.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me, darling.”

She looks at you from over her sunglasses, winking sweetly, “Anything for my pretty little wife. Gotta keep her happy for the baby, hm?”

#patricia braden x reader #kitten braden x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut

[itsbackwoodsbby]

Locker Room Sex

Stephen Curry x Black Fem Reader

A/N: I wrote this for my pleasure. I AM TWENTY, so there is an age difference. I am sorry if you don't like the age gap, but I still am obsessed with this FINE ASS man so don't judge me, judge ya mammy.

Warning: Age Gap! Dirty Talk! Cheating! Swearing! Unprotected Sex!

Summary: You were messaging Steph Curry for a while and then eventually he ghosts you. You were desperately in need to talk to him. For reasons. For answers, on what exactly is going on. You sneak in the Golden State locker room and you definitely get more than answers.

You greeted and told the guys goodbye and goodnight as they left the locker room. He was the only one left in the locker room taking a shower. He turned the shower off and came out with a towel wrapped around his waist. You look at his body. He was very toned for a 35 year old. You bite your lips and start imagining him with the towel dropped.

“Uh… can I help you?” He asks you kind of sternly. You look at him nervously. “Uh yeah. May I get an interview?” He looks at you, “You’re not an actual interviewer.” Reading right through your bullshit. “I’ve heard of ABC, ESPN, and Ballislife. Never have I heard of Big Balls Entertainment.” He reads your fake ass badge your best friend made you.

You swallow hard and you try to come up with a new lie, but you can't. Honestly, you only here to talk to Stephen Curry and possibly even fuck him. But you obviously know the plan is blown, so you walk out. He grabs your arm.

“You know fans can’t be back here either. You can go to jail.” He tells you. You sigh. “I just wanted to see you. You stopped replying to my messages.” He looks at you, “Wait, you’re the girl that I was snapping.” You bite your lips and shake your head before you look down. “And when you stopped texting me, I had to find a way to see you and talk to you.” He starts examining your body as you are talking. “Aye my eyes are up here.” You say sternly. He chuckles, “My bad.” He clears his throat. “Look. I have a wife. I have three kids. I can’t be doing this with you.” You look at him and nod you head. “You’re right. I’m so sorry.” You say as you get up to leave the locker room.

You don’t know why you thought your plan was going to work. You two are 15 years apart. He has a family. You just want him back though. You guys were only talking and sending nudes through Snapchat. It shouldn’t have got this deep as in you sneaking into the Golden State locker room.

A voice comes back to the locker room. It’s Klay. Steph and you run to the shower room and you hide in there as Steph puts on some clean boxers and goes back into the locker room. You listen to their conversation until Klay says he has to go home to see his doggie son, Rocco. He leaves and it’s just you and Steph. You were about to leave and he grabs your arm again.

“Nah. Wait a minute. You can’t leave yet.” He says. You look at him confused, “Maybe we can hook up one time.” He says before caressing your body. “You just said you don’t want to be caught up with me.” You say biting your lip as he squeezes your boobs.

Steph wanted you now. It’s only because he remembered his wife was going for two weeks for a cooking show. The kids were with his parents. So you could be his little cum eater while his wife was away. It wasn’t like Ayesha would care. He can just dispose of you when he got done.

You strip down and go inside the shower room taking your clothes with you. You wanted shower sex and he wanted the same. He smiles at your naked body before you disappear and follows you. He takes his boxers off and pushes you down on your knees.

“You said if you were to see me, you’d suck it.” He smirks. “Do it.”

You start with his tip and slowly lower down an inch. His dick is really big and thick. It’s kind of hard to swallow. You’re a big girl though, so you push through. Eventually you’re damn near eating his dick up.

“My balls need love too.” He says and pushes your head down. You bite your lip before you start sucking on his balls. He smiles and groans even more. You smile knowing you're doing a good job. “Fuck, I’m going to cum.” You go back to sucking and stroking his dick with one hand and massaging his balls with the other and he rolls his eyes in the back of his head. “Fuck, you’re a good at giving head.” He says. “Young ass eater.” He chuckles.

He starts fucking your throat. You start gagging at how rough he is getting with you, but it only motivates him to be rougher with your throat. He hits the back of your throat once and he starts nutting in your throat. You swallow it all. Eventually, he pulls out to see if you did. You smile and stick out your tongue. He smiles.

“Good girl.” He says. You stand up and he admires your wet body. He sucks on your neck and lowers to your nipples. He starts rubbing your clit and he smiles. “You want me to return the favor now or later.” You bite your lips, “Later. I need that dick.” You say.

He picks you up and slides you down his dick. You gasp and hang your mouth open, moaning a sweet note in his ear. He starts thrusting in and out of you. He proceeds to go faster and choke you a bit.

“You take this dick so good, baby girl.” He says groaning in your ear. “And your pussy is so fucking wet.” You whimper. “Ooh shit. You’re so deep. You’re so deep.” He smirks and goes harder. Your legs begin to shake. You’re on the verge of climax already. “Steph. Chill. I’m going to cum.” He chuckles, “Nah. Take it.” He says and goes harder. You try to grip the wall. “Mm, fuck daddy.”

He turns the shower off and heads back to the bench. The steam from the water was making it kind of hard to see. He lays you down with his dick still inside you. He pulls out and starts eating your creamy pussy. You start moaning and gripping the edges. His head game was vicious, it almost made you cum. Then he rams his dick back in roughly. You scream out. He chokes you.

“Chill the fuck out. You can’t be too loud, ma,” He says. You bite your lips. He begins to pound your shit in. “Ooh. Ooh Steph! I told you to chill. I’m going to cum.” He smacks your boobs and goes deeper. “Nah. Say my name.” He groans. “Oh daddy.” You say low. “Loud ma.” He says. “Fuck! Daddy! I’m coming.” You say louder. He chuckles and starts back pounding you. You let out a long moan before creaming his dick up. He looks down, “Yeah. That’s right. Paint this dick.” You cover your face as he starts going deeper. You try to push him away but he just pins your hands above your head.

Suddenly, he starts going faster and faster then you feel his warm liquid fill inside you. He groans in your ear as he does it. He pulls out and watches you leak out both of your juices. He looks down at you as you look at him. The two of you laugh at each other. You sigh and get up.

“Now, I got to shower.” You say and run to the shower. He joins you and you two just shower. You two get dressed and walk out to the parking garage together. He kisses you and rubs all over your body. He practically didn’t want to let go of you. You very slowly break the kiss and giggle. “Chill.” You smile. “You should come with me tonight.” He says. You think about it. You don’t mind but you would rather lay in your own bed tonight. “Nah. I’m going home. Maybe if you need me again, I can stay over.” He smiles, “Ight, lil ma.” You blush and get in your car and he gets in his. He honks his horn as a goodbye and you go to your house.

#itsbackwoodsbby #black fanfiction #celebrities #poc writer #smut #x black fem reader #black fanfic writer #stephen curry #basketball #sports #affair #age different relationships #18+ mdni #golden state warriors #hoopers #basketball players #wardell curry ii #hitting like that 30 on my jersery #niggas tryna shot they shoot stephen curry #splash brothers #30

[chrollohearttags]

not even to wake up in a haterrific mood on such a beautiful morning but I feel like I gotta say something. Especially when I’ve been seeing a multitude of posts critiquing black writers and seeing so many of amazing moots leave. (and reminder that the anon button is OFF so you will argue with the wall or get that ass cussed out publicly, your choice. And if you feel brave enough to come to my DM’s, I got something there for you too 🤗 so feel free) but I am so so so SICK of seeing these very unnecessary and annoying standards being placed on black writers. I’ve said this once and I’ll say it again that the goalpost keeps moving for us. It went from the toxic, plug, sneaky link, etc fics are harmful and damaging to us as black women to now I’ve had the displeasure of seeing that modern AU’s in general are problematic and we should write more canon AOT stories (I wish I was making this up). Don’t know about you but I want no parts of that depression fest. Especially because the ONE black person was basically observed like some type of mystical being. I’ll pass on the whole ‘why does your hair feel like that’ and a handmade’s mammy tale of tending to a war criminal’s wounds in a jail cell. Regardless, all of this is rooted in a respectability and projection issue. Because as I’ve said before, none of these critiques started until the TikTok girls started publicly bashing black writers and using them as a ploy to get views because doing it to other groups who write the SAME tropes with a “digestible” packaging would’ve gotten them backlash. So as does everyone on this hellscape of a planet, they use black women as a punching bag and laughing stock to garner engagement. Now you’ve got an influx of people regurgitating these same things and making others feel bad for what they write. I’ll be honest, a lot of these tropes/stories that I see, they’re not exactly my niche, mainly because I don’t smoke, I don’t do parties and stuff like that so I can’t resonate with it (don’t come at me, I got asthma and social anxiety, bitch 😭) but that doesn’t make me love/wanna read them any less. I love seeing different perspectives and being in another set of shoes for a while. There’s nothing wrong with that because as long as black women/enbies are happy and confident in what they write and it’s not causing harm, I’m going to support ten toes down because we need representation, we need that community and I’ll be damned if I turn my nose up in the air at anyone just trying to express their creativity. What I WON’T support is a bunch of hateful, nasty spirited shrews parading around in clean girl cosplay and bashing others to be seen as acceptable and ‘one of the good ones.’ Not liking smut doesn’t make you a better reader/writer, not liking modern AU’s and ‘overused’ tropes doesn’t make you some prophetic, divine person and sitting up in anons and on the dash, reporting fics because YOU personally don’t like them doesn’t make you superior. And running everyone else off of here won’t make your writing any better. What does it make you is a loser, a cornball ass bitch and a lazy bum. Because the energy you exert into being haters, you can simply open a Google doc or draft on here and write what fulfills you. Be the change you want to see in the world or whatever they say. Also, a lot of us ARE writing these very scenarios you all are claiming you want to see. We can also see the notes count in comparison to the ones being deemed so horrible so again? You as the consumer determine what’s popular and not. We’re only going to write what’s going to be seen. Anyways, black women/femmes/enbies, I love you. I love your stories, I love your portrayals of our favorite characters whether they’re a drug dealer or a doctor, I love seeing y’all on my dash and I hope that you continue to grow in your writing journeys. I hope that you write what brings you joy and block out all the bullshit. Stay safe and have a wonderful weekend! 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

#and sidebar: I may have a tip to get around these community labels but I don’t want Big Mama T to catch on so feel free to DM me #if it hasn’t already been tried #cherry chats 🍒 #I just want everyone to have a safe space to create #no one should feel ashamed about what they write #and no one should have to leave or close their anons because people are a special breed of stupid #and I wish I could say it was other races doing this #but I don’t believe it is #I believe all these gripes are coming from within the house and it’s so sad to see #I want us to be better fr #this world hates us as is and tearing one another down makes it worse #writing rant #cw vent #cw rant #anyways I’m going to enjoy my morning and pack orders #have a blessed one and stay hydrated

[soshaaaa]

Some time ago i made redesign of all brothers. I haven't posted it in here yet, so here it is!

Also i made redesign of my OM!OC together woth em all, so i also pit it in this post♡

I showed Asmo and Sosha redesign in another post, but i hope you are not angry at me for that😇

CHANGES:

Lucifuk

-Since he is staying up all night, i made his clothes more messy. Yeah, now he looks like single mother of 6. I feel like nights at Devildom should be hella cold. So i now his clothes are warmer.

-Glasses.

-More blue. He still have a lot of Gold and Red, but now you can see at least a little bit of his sin colour.

Mammy

-I THINK WE ALL CAN AGREE that Mammon is that type of ppl who would wear EVERY SINGLE gold thing he has, just to look more rich.

-Also i think he would wear some stupid accessory, like eyepatch and thinking he looks cool and badass. But he actually looks good with eyepatch tho-

-His skin is darker now, he have some gold/yellow hair strands and piercings. Yeah this dude feels like piercing lover. Maybe he also have tattoo or smth.

Leviafish

-Another character who have 0 of his sin's colour on their orig design. Now he has some orange.

-He is otaku, he DEFINITELY don't have time to get a haircut! And long hair Levi sounds good.

-His orig design was gamer. THIS ONE IS A NERD OTAKU! Some anime accessories, hair clips, stickers, HELL YEAH.

Catan

-Satan is just Lucifer's wrath, this would be logical if they had similar appearance. And, this would make Satan even MORE angry.

-Braid... it has no explanation. I just gave him braid because i wanted.

-Now he looks less ugly + his outfit has cats now.

MY♡SWEET♡LITTLE♡HONEYBUN♡CUTE♡PUP♡LOVELY♡HUN♡BEST♡BOY♡PRECIOUS♡HUSBAND♡ANDGORGEOUS♡QUEEEN♡ASSMODEUS!!!♡♡♡♡♡

-How he definitely is avatar of lust! Open outfit, gorgeous and hoey.

-Now his hair is pretty and fluffy like a cotton candy.

-BEST ONE ABSOLUTELY YES

Beelzeburger

-Another one with no sin colour! But i added more red.

-Beel and Belfie are twins, but their designs are very different. I gave them more matching elements, like little braids, vitiligo and eyes. Also Beel have some porpol in his clothes, while Belfie has some red.

-Eyebrow piercing... Sorry, but it cools sooo cool on him! Also tattoo!

Belfukgore

-Another person who doesn't have enough time for haircut, so half-long hair. He is constantly sleeping, so his hair is messy.

-His orig design is not sleepy enough! Now he is wearing pijama. Yeas, i am extra.

-Also yes, this transparent porpol-red thing makes no sense. But it looks hella cool!

#asmodeus #demon #obey me #asmodeus obey me #om! asmodeus #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #om! shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #redesign #obey me redesign #om! mammon #om! mc #om! lucifer #om! leviathan #om! satan #om! beelzebub #om! belphegor

[bohemian-nights]

I was going to keep it cute, but @darklinaforever am I that interesting to the point where you want to stalk me boo🙃

You’ve been wilding out about me for two days straight now because you found out we have a ship in common(Zutara; yes folks this unedited Google Doc is so butthurt over us both liking Zutara she started losing her mind🤣):

How are you disgusted by Dettles yet you ship an incestuous abusive relationship🤡You obviously don’t have standards so how is it that Daemon and Nettles where you draw the line?

Don’t think I don’t know why your a** really is disgusted.

Would you like to be a servant to your own family? Again how do you think Alysmond is rape, yet you think a man being with his 14-year-old niece who he eventually abandons for another woman is romantic 🤡

You’re ashamed to be in the same fandom as me? Well dear, the feeling is mutual cause I’m utterly devastated I’m in the same fandom as some white chick over talking Black women in order to deny anti-Black racism:

And yes this fandom has a goddamn misogynoir problem when y’all say bullsh*t like the above and this crap:

You want to avoid all of that, be my guest, but don’t expect me to play stupid with you. I’m not mammy darling.

At this point y’all(cause I know it’s not just you, but your whole little posse of racists/self hating weirdos) should be embarrassed by your lies and the fact that I’m living rent free in your heads.

The block button is free girl. (See I’m being nice cause I could block you myself, but since your so ashamed and disgusted I’ll let you have this one). Utilize it and save yourself the mental anguish of having to see my posts.

#this is why I’m getting tired of this fandom #anti daemyra stans #y’all really are the absolute worst group of deluded racist stans I’ve seen hands down

[saintsenara]

2!

thank you very much for the ask, pal!

question two on this love your fandom ask game was a very popular one, so I've combined this ask with a couple of others:

[a huge shoutout to the anon who left such a kind message about bookbinding - you're a legend!]

2. what is a headcanon you weren't sure about at first but have come to like?

i have recently - while writing subluxation - been regrettably tricked against my will into finding rodolphus lestrange fascinating [i can hear @sofoulandfairaday giggling and kicking her feet in the air], and i am increasingly coming round to the idea that - while i certainly still prefer the idea that his marriage to bellatrix is an unhappy one - there's some real affection there. it's giving power couple.

5. what is something you see in fics a lot and love?

both fun and profoundly moving engagement with my favourite fandom belief: that you can write yourself into - and out of - the least plausible premises and pairings, turning them into something which should be dismissed as a joke but which instead lays bare the fundamental strangeness of life and of love, if you just have enough nerve.

15. which character always makes you smile?

the man, the myth, the legend… ronald billius weasley, for the love of whom i would even defend hermione.

16. what is a tiny detail in canon that you want more people to appreciate?

that each of the trio destroys a horcrux, and that each of these horcruxes is destroyed by the person who feels most narratively linked to the bit of voldemort's personality it symbolises.

harry destroys the diary, which gives him a connection he sincerely values to somebody who can understand his experience as an orphan searching for the answer to the mystery of his life.

ron destroys the locket, which tortures him by suggesting his mother doesn't love him and that his great love is futile because she will abandon him. the locket is the clearest example of voldemort's profound mammy issues - he kills hepzibah smith to acquire it as vengeance for her suggesting that merope stole it, and it is the only horcrux he constructs an elaborate defence for in a place meaningful to him from childhood.

hermione, whose experience of the wizarding world is of having to justify her rightful place within it, destroys the cup - the item which has the least personal connection to voldemort but which he evidently chooses as a horcrux because of his own preoccupation with history and his place in the wizarding world.

[other answers from this ask game]

#asks answered #love your fandom asks

[korra-northeast-germany]

Tw: suicide, breakdowns, verbal and emotional abuse. Mentions of physical abuse. Audio Hallucinations? Basically do not read if you are sensitive to these topics you have been warned

Like I care

"C'mon luci let's go play", a childish wish from a younger brother craving the attention of his caretaker, his grip oh so tight almost removing the circulation from the eldest arm causing pain tho not a lot. "Not now Mammon" the elder spoke trying to pry him off, "I am busy a little later alright?" The child just whines. "But luci...! Non of our other brothers wanna play, plus you always focus on your work!! Just play with me please luci" he looks like he'd cry if not give the attention, the elder tries all with his might eventually givimg in. His brother refused to let up, forcing him to be unable to do anything but allow the young angel to have his way.

"Alright I'll....play with you.."

.

.

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.

.

"Lucifer?" Mammon slowly walked into the avatar of pride's room, a sheepish look upon his face. "I was thinking maybe just us to can spend time together? I mean your always focused on your work and I the GREAT Mammon think you should take a break at least for today ya?" Oh the annoyance Lucifer felt, how dare the destructive brother inturpt his work. He had very important papers and couldn't turn them away, they are very much more important than whatever money making scheme Mammon was thinking of making into some silly game. "No Mammon I'm not in the mood, my work is very much important as of current which must be done as soon as possible" he responds glaring at the tanned male. "But Lucifer I really think you need a break. Take some time to play a game with me your little brother?" "NO mammon. If you do not have anything of importance to tell me then leave." Oh how Lucifer will come to regret those words. "....fine" the former angel of charity leaves the scene, saddened his older brother rather kiss up to 'Diavolo than spend time with him. Bah like he cares.

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Like he cares

"Mammy read that book to me again, the one about the prince and the Knight" a blond haired spawnling spoke, hands holding up his favorite children's book up to his older brother/mother figure. He was no older than a 6yo in human terms, a young impressionable 6yo at that high hopes high potential high... wrath. Oh sweet baby he was. 'Mammy' just smiled at his youngest sibling, strong tanned arms bringing the child into the elders chest kissing his head followed by a friendly laugh which radiated through the whole of HOL. "Of course I'll read to Ya tan tan!" The avatar grins oh how his heart fluttered and swelled, never could Mammon ever say no to Satan. "Do you want to read in your room or the library?" No answer was truly needed, 'Mammy' already knew. "library library!"

.

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A frustrated Satan searched everywhere far and wide for his missing book. Where was it? Who could have took it? It could not have been some low life demon! Of course not this was HIS private library after all only he, his brothers, Diavolo + Barbados, and in few RARE occasions the exchange students could enter! Who in the world could have taken his book...Who would dare have the audaci- "MAMMON!!" Shifting quickly into his demon form the 4th brother avatar of wrath would go looking for the 2nd born with an undying force a desire to eliminate the thieving scumbag. He spots Beel, Levi, and Asmo all hanging out playing one of Levi's video games. Rare. "What's got your panties in a twist?" Questions Asmo raising his brow.. "let me guess the scumbag stole from You?" Levi huffed "yeah he stole from me to! I can't find my limited edition ruru-chan fighters game anywhere! Ugh!" "And my perfume and nail set" the 2 OBNOXIOUS siblings spoke both seething with hate. Beel just stayed quiet. "Have any of you seen Mammon at least!?" Everyone shrugged where was mammon no one knows. Annoyed, Satan retracts his demon form to instead visit Lucifer, man's pulling a snitch like Levi does. It's not like he cares about what happens to mammon.

.

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Like he cared

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"End it"

No....

"Get it done with hurry up!"

But they'll miss me

"Don't you understand no one cares!"

They care!

"Do they or are you fooling yourself to believe such lies"

You don't know shit

"When was last time they called you their brother"

I- uh...

"When was the last time you remember getting a hug from your brothers?"

When...

"Don't finish that sentence you know you don't remember"

You don't understand i- they can't possibly want this

"Scumbag"

Stop

"Bastard"

Stop it

"Thief"

Listen

"Good for nothing"

Not funny!

"Idiot!"

Okay It get it stop!

"No one wants you here don't you understand"

No response

"Not lucifer"

...

"Not Levi"

...

"Not Asmo"

....

"Not Beel"

....

"Not Belphie"

...

"Most of all NOT satan"

....

"Don't you understand Mammon! They would have won the war if you died instead! They would be so much happier with Lilth if you died instead it should have been You! Not Lilth YOU!"

really low blow...low....*hic* blow..

"You know its true, so go ahead do it... end it"

Tears now pool from the avatar's eyes

"After all...."

.

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.

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.

" Its not like they care "

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.

He should have cared. Satan should have cared. He didn't care when he saw Lucifer whipping his brother, he didn't care when Mammon cried saying it wasn't him that took everyone's stuff. No..He didn't care when he saw Mammon's dull eyes looking straight at him while a smile plastered the elders face a really really fake smile. He should have cared he knew he should have cared. Yet he didn't. HE DIDN'T. He let it happen...He.. He let the man that raised him for centuries ever since he was just a little spawnling suffer..while He watched, while he participated, while he accuse, called him names, shamed, and emotionally as well as mentally abused him. What kind of brother was He? The blond avatar can only feel wrath seething, could only feel the wrath threatening to lash out at anyone or anything that dare DARE inturpt his search.

Where was He?

Where was Mammon?

Where was the man that used to read him books every night?

Where was the brother that used to sing to him while everyone argued and fought?

Where was his knight?

Where was the brother that promised to always be there for him?

He needed him

He needed his Mammy

Why wasn't Mammy coming to his aide?

"MAMMON!" He cries out continuing his search.

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.

.

The demon wheezed and coughs, he failed his attempt, he's been lying here by himself stuck in the human realm for what..4 days now? Great.....just perfect...he thought he could do it much easier here yet...ugghhh whatever he'll..he'll try again. After all

Who could ever care for the great scumbag mammon

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What has he done...he drove him away... he was trying to protect him from a fate worse than death, yet in the prideful Damon's efforts to protect drove him away. Fuck this was just like Lilth over again. It's been 5 days, they searched everywhere in Devildom by now and now were searching in the human realm. He felt the bond, the spukd bond no longer as faint as before...They were close....They were close they were going to find him. Once they do Lucifer plans to spoil Mammon rotten. Play as many games as Mammon wanted, bake with him, visit all the famous casinos, May be even gamble a little only a little! He was going to...he had to he needed..

Wait

The soul bonded was acting up like fucking crazy, he was close Lucifer is do undeniable close he'll find Mammon soon he will he knows! Following the little hot cold game the soul played he ended up finding a certain white haired demon who looked so disorimtated so awful. " Mammon!" He calls moving t grab him only to watch his hands go through him. "Wha-" no no it can't be..he was,no.."Mammon, Mammon!!"

.

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.

They were to late..they were way to late. Their brother mammon? Dead gone faded into nothing. when they heard the news everyone's worlds broke into a billion peices.

Beel couldn't bring himself to eat for weeks.

Belphie struggled with sleep constantly waking from nightmare upon nightmare.

Asmo shut down, a response no one could read for not a single person can tell how this plagued him.

Levi left his room often yes but constantly sulked, he never dare talk about or mention ruru-chan or anything related instead walking in and out of Mammon's too, on occasion to take his stuff hoping just hoping his brother would return.

Satan's wrath was off the hooks, when he heard the news he sulked for days upon days, he went through the stages of grief desperately looking through each and everyone of his spells to return the big brother/mother he had lost. When that didn't work he lashed out constantly, he lashed out at Lucifer accusing him blaming him to the mess saying 'he never cared' because he never saw a single tear in the those raven haired eyes. He moves onto the other brothers before moving onto himself, the boy broke. He read the story about the knight and prince as well as the other countless amounts of books his mammy used to read to him hopesnthst he'll return. He never did.

He never did. Lucifer...Lucifer Oh how he failed his little brother, some nights he prayed to their father with hopes of the return of his brother, null. How the once prideful avatars pride faded quickly at the mention of his favorite, he never truly did accept his death. Couldn't bring himself to. Lucifer oh lovely lovely Lucifer 'the failure first born' forever plagued by the last conversation he shared with little mammom before his death.

"Lucifer?" Mammon slowly walked into the avatar of pride's room, a sheepish look upon his face. "I was thinking maybe just us to can spend time together? I mean your always focused on your work and I the GREAT Mammon think you should take a break at least for today ya?" Oh the annoyance Lucifer felt, how dare the destructive brother inturpt his work.(work he shouldn't have payed attention to) He had very important papers and couldn't turn them away(why not turn them away this one time?) they are very much more important than whatever money making scheme Mammon was thinking of making into some silly game.(why didn't you play?)"No Mammon I'm not in the mood, my work is very much important as of current which must be done as soon as possible"(take a break Luci...) he responds glaring at the tanned male. "But Lucifer I really think you need a break. Take some time to play a game with me your little brother?" "NO mammon. If you do not have anything of importance to tell me then leave."(please come back to me...) Oh how Lucifer will come to regret those words. "....fine" the former angel of charity leaves the scene(I shouldn't have let him...).

A/N:this genuinely took a while like LITTERALLY lol. I stayed up late thinking and gathering inspiration cuz I only really write upon impulse and this was one of them. Anyway I'm happy it's done and hope people like it :) sorry if it's too depressing/to long or if there's grammar issues I stayed up writing like for days lol.

#obey me mammon #the great mammon #obey me #om! mammon #mammon needs a hug #obey me oneshot #angst #mammon angst #om! oneshot #om! angst #om! satan #om! brothers #om! lucifer #om! leviathan #no mc #mammon dies #om! asmodeus #om! belphegor #om! beelzebub #tw depressing stuff #tw death #i couldn't stop myself #sorry for this

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Twenty-Nine (Part 4)

He drives me to the station so that I don’t miss my train since we’re running late, and walks me all the way to the entrance. His eyes flicker over my face as though he needs to memorise every feature. “I’ll see you on Monday morning.” He says.

“Yeah,” I say, “The train’ll have me back for half ten.”

“I can collect you from here if you want me to.”

I shrug, “only if it’s not an inconvenience or anything.”

“No, it definitely wouldn’t be,” He tucks a strand of my hair, still damp from the shower, behind my ear and his chest rises with a sharp breath, “Have a nice time, won’t you?”

“You too.” I turn to walk away but he yanks me back to him again and angles his head to kiss me. Not a light, casual one, but deep, longing, intense, and his arms wind around my back and lock me close to him. “It’s just for the weekend,” I laugh, “I’m coming back in forty eight hours, you’d swear I was off to war.”

“I know,” he brushes his nose against mine, “I’m sorry, I just feel-” He draws back, “It’s fine, I’ll be right here on Monday to pick you up.”

“Alright, weirdo,” I tease, and peck his cheek. “I’ll see you,” I turn into the station and walk away. 

I fear the clouds the whole way from the bakery to the estate. They roll in ominous, black and laden with rain, and somewhere in the distance is a rumble of thunder. 

“Oh God, please, no, not again,” I mutter to myself. These storms don’t seem to let up lately.

A man slopes past with his hands in his pockets, “That for me?” He says. 

I look down at the pink and white cake in my hands. Happy 55th Birthday Marian! Is piped in the centre in purple looping cursive.

I roll my eyes, “Yeah.” 

Then I see our neighbour Jerry. “Looks like rain,” He says to me. 

“It does yeah.”

He peers at the cake, “Mammy’s birthday, is it?”

“‘tis.”

“Fifty-Five, jaysus. Tell her Jerry from next door said she still looks nineteen.”

I snort, “Will do.” and he walks away and I consider telling her that Jerry from next door clearly fancies the arse off her just to kick off a preposterous neighbourhood rumour.

She’s hoovering the sitting room carpet when I get in, and the air is choked with the smell of pine disinfectant. “Jesus,” I wheeze, “doing a bit of a clean are you?”

“Evie,” she looks up and shuts the hoover off, “There you are.”

“Here I am,” I say, and she looks quizzically at the cake. “Your birthday,” I explain, “I went and got you a cake from Meylers Bakery.”

“Oh, feck it, alright,” She says, “c’mere, put it down in the kitchen there sure there’s dust flying around everywhere here. G’wan out there now.”

I go into the kitchen where the whole place is gleaming, and even the laminate countertops seem more reflective than usual. I place it down and carefully peel off the plastic lid, and she shuffles in after me as I’m trying to transfer it onto one of the nice cake stands she displays in the dresser. 

“Ah, you put my age on there!” she protests, “Now Joanne Meyler is going to know how old I am.”

“Does it matter if Joanne Meyler knows that?”

“Fifty five, Jesus Christ,” she takes a sheet of kitchen roll and begins to scoop cake crumbs from the surface onto her hand, “When did I get so bloody old?”

“You’re not old, mammy. The fifties are the new thirties.”

She throws her eyes to heaven, “Yeah, right.”

“Jerry next door said you look nineteen.”

“Jerry next door is bloody soft in the head.”

“Oh alright.”

She looks at the cake again, “I’m depressed.”

I snort with laughter, “You aren’t, for God’s sake, would you shut up. It’s your birthday, c’mere,” I put my arms around her, “Happy birthday mammy.”

“Look at my skin,” she says, tilting her cheek to me, “You see it’s gone like crepe paper.”

“It’s not. You’ve no wrinkles at all,” but she waves me away. “I have a present for you as well,” I say, and root a gift box out of my bag. 

“Ah, what’s this now?” She says as she peers at the branding, “What are you doing shopping in that place? That’s too expensive.”

“Stop it mam, just accept it.”

She takes it from me and pulls out a bottle of perfume. She stares at it for several long seconds, and then says, “Jo Malone?”

“Yeah, Jo Malone.”

“Is that real?”

“Yeah of course.”

“Where did you get the money for that?”

I laugh, “No need to be so suspicious. I work. Or at least I was working. I got a big payment for a mural I did on Temple Bar last month.”

She leans her arm against the counter like she needs to brace herself a bit, “That’s very fancy now altogether.”

“It is, do you remember that time we went shopping together for Christmas and we smelled all of the perfumes at the Jo Malone counter?”

She nods, “I do, yeah.”

“And you liked this one, and I said to myself that one day I’d buy you a bottle.”

Her eyes flick to mine, “And you bought this? You did go asking your fancy boyfriend for a loan of money or something?”

“Feck sake, no! I bought it for you with my own money.”

“It’s too much.”

“It isn’t.”

I swear that her chin trembles a little bit before she decides that she’s not allowed to be emotional, “well thank you,” She says, “That’s lovely now, I’ll wear that out and the other women will be saying I’m gone very posh.”

I reach into the kitchen press and pull out a couple of side plates and then retrieve a cake knife from the drawer. “Are you doing something with the girls later on?”

“Not today,” she says. “During the week we’ll go to a restaurant, I think. There’s a new one after opening in town, some Asian street-something-or-other.”

“Sounds nice,” I cut into the cake and pull out a thin slice for her, because she’s always watching her weight. “And where’s dad?”

“Ach!” She coughs out, “Away.”

“Away?”

“He went out there this morning and he’s not been back since.”

I look at her. “Does he know it’s your birthday?”

“Well he should do.”

“Did he say happy birthday at any point?”

She hesitates, “Well he ought to know, I’d say he’s just off on a small job, or down the pub with the lads.”

I frown, “Mam, did he not get you anything?”

“When you’re married thirty two years these kinds of things don’t make a difference anymore.”

“Well they should. If Jude forgot my birthday I’d be bloody furious. Not even flowers?”

“Ah, what’s the point? Flowers would only wilt,” She pulls a plate of cake towards her and perches at the counter. I hand her a fork, “If you’re going to go mad at every little thing you’d be driven demented. It’s better just to get on with it.”

“Hm,” I take a forkful from the corner of my slice. “I don’t really think that’s the right way of looking at it. You’re worthy of celebration, and you’re worthy of your husband’s time. It’s not too much to expect him to prioritise you.”

She doesn’t know what to say to something like this, so she just says, “yeah,” and then changes the subject. “Your granny was saying you’ve gone very grown up.”

“After seeing me at the Christening?”

“She says you’re the image of me.”

“Well I am the image of you. I feel like there’s nothing at all of dad in me,” I smirk, “Do you ever think she was annoyed about it?”

She lets out a low laugh, “I don’t know about that, would you say? I was glad to hear it because I always thought as much. You’re all made up of Crowley genes, you’ve no Kilbride in you at all.” I can tell she’s pleased about this. She and granny Kilbride have never quite seen eye to eye, with granny always not-so-secretly thinking that she was somehow beneath her son. 

“Do you have any pictures of yourself when you were my age?” I query, “I’ve only ever seen the ones where you’re a bit older, like, the ones where I’m a baby and you’ve got that mad permed hair and shoulder pads.”

“Well, excuse me, ‘twas the style at the time,” She says.

“I’m just curious to see how alike we are, it’s easier to compare when you’re looking at you when you were younger.” 

“Right, hang on there, I’ll get out the photos,” she wipes her hands on her trousers, goes into the other room to search and comes back with a box in her hands with a label that reads 1980 – 1985. She lays it on the counter next to our empty plates and peels the lid open. It’s like uncovering a tomb of secrets, and I’m briefly seized with excitement and anticipation as she pulls out a little pile from one side of it and hands it to me, “have a look through there, see if you can find anything decent.”

“Why haven’t you ever gotten these down for me? I didn’t know you had so many photos from the eighties.”

“Sure what did you think I was doing? Just sitting around at home? I had a life before you were born, missy.” She peers at me, “And before you ask, we had cameras then too, back in the dinosaur ages.”

I start to look through them, and there she is, my mother younger than I’ve ever seen her. I can see it. She’s like me in every way. The gangly frame, the startlingly pale skin, those bright green eyes peering out from under the sheets of straight brown hair that flank her face. She looks deliriously happy in some of the photos, wearing cuffed denim jeans and covered in paint as she drags a thick paintbrush up the wall of someone’s living room. There are a heap of photos from this particular day. It looks like she’s helping a friend to move, and there’s a photo of her grinning with two other girls next to a giant skip piled high with broken furniture.

“That’s Dublin,” I realise. “George’s Street.”

“Back when those big houses only cost thirty thousand pounds, imagine. Now they go for near a million I’d say.”

“Mad, the girl who bought it, is she still there?”

“Gina was her name, and I don’t know, love, I’m not in touch with her anymore.”

This makes me feel a bit sad. Gina looks fun. “How did you know her?”

“All of those girls and I worked for Aer Lingus back in the day, God, the fun we used to have, we used to just go out into the town and get up to all sorts. Those days Dublin was different, but we made the absolute most of it,” she leans back nostalgically, “The stories I have from that time… sure the funniest things used to be happening to us.” 

“I had no idea you were working for Aer Lingus! You never said.”

“Well I didn’t do it for very long,” She swipes a photo off the top of her own pile and passes it to me, and I laugh with delight as I look at it. It’s her and Gina and a third girl dressed in deep green suits and white gloves. Their berets, embroidered with golden harps sit jauntily on their heads, and they smile, proudly, broadly, as they pose on the tarmac in front of an aeroplane. 

“Why did you give it up? God, I’d say air hostessing was so glamorous back then.”

“The early 80s, yes it certainly was. We were so excited to be there, they treated us like royalty and all the other girls were so jealous,” she sighs, “and I gave it up because I got married, and flitting around the world on a plane wasn’t the kind of thing that a wife ought to be doing. I decided to come home to Tullamore and set up a life with your father, and then I suppose the rest is history.”

“And the other women, your friends, where are they now?”

“Well Stella, the blonde girl there, she met a Belgian man and they moved to a place called Liege after a while. She had great French anyway, but he was some handsome fella, we all had our eye on him at one stage. Marc was his name. Gina travelled the world for a long time. I remember around the time that your father and I moved into this house she was still sending me postcards from far flung places, Mongolia, I remember that one. Zambia, Bolivia, and then I suppose we lost touch. When you have children things change and everyone goes their separate ways,” She takes the photo from me and thumbs it affectionately, “But we enjoyed it while it lasted.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Well,” she looks away thoughtfully, “I suppose I do at times, but I was making a sensible choice. I knew I’d marry and have a big family one day, so I thought that I should get going while I had met someone I thought I could have those things with. I was twenty three. That was a normal age to get married back then, although it seems so young these days. Obviously the plan to have a litter of kids didn’t work out as I thought, but we eventually got you, after eleven years of prayers,” She reaches out and tugs on my cheek, “I suppose if I’d my time back I might have done things a bit differently or waited a bit longer, before settling back in Tullamore, but I don’t regret you.”

She regrets my father though. I frown, “You know, that makes me pretty sad.”

“Ah, no, it isn’t sad, it’s just life. We didn’t have it back then in the same way that girls your age do now. This was a different country, there were more rules upon us, more things to be frightened of. Sure you can do whatever you want, can’t you? Look at you, working away and being an artist for real money. I think that’s something to be very proud of. I could never have done something like that because it just wasn’t the done thing, especially for a girl from a working class background. I would have been laughed out of town for trying something a bit different. You could be a nurse or a teacher or a secretary, and that was it. Otherwise you’d be at home with the children.”

“Yeah.”

“But you’ve gone and become a real artist now, and look at you, buying Jo Malone perfumes on money from commissions,” She shakes her head disbelievingly, “Who would have thought that was possible? I was telling the girls about all the cards and things you were doing up there in that art shop you worked for-”

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky girl part 3

[canonsinthehead]

My Review of Yakuza 8/Infinite Wealth.

I'm back! Few days I've completed the game Yakuza 8 and will take the time to share my thoughts on it. Brace yourself!

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD. I ASSUME YOU’VE PLAYED THE GAME BEFORE READING THIS.

THE STORY: 4/10

A 50/50 roller coaster between clutching your pearls and an abyss of nuclear waste storytelling trash.

The whole story sounded good on paper, but its execution was poor especially past the first part of the game with Ichiban. Going between his lowkey undermined POV and another attempt (for the 124654th time) for a redemption story for Kiryu like almost all previous Yakuza games. Oh no! Am I dead?! Looks like I am. See you next game!

Many plot holes dragged the story to filth. Minor points/elements were expanded on meanwhile important ones were ignored.

WHAT I LIKE & DISLIKED ABOUT THE STORY:

LIKED & DISLIKE: CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT It’s the game’s strength but also its weakness as this game greatly focuses on the character development of the protagonists. Like how in one minute, I was clapping for Kiryu’s newfound maturity and admitting his past faults (something he failed to do since the start of the Serie in my opinion) to the next 5 minutes I’m vomiting at full force because Mr. Repeat-the-same-mistakes Kazuma wants to (yep you guessed it...) go back to the Yakuza. He went as far as disrespecting Daigo, Majima & Saejima for it as if they were obligated to follow him in his shenanigans. He is so hell-bent on being the 1# Yakuza mammy AND CONTINUE TO PUT HIS ADOPTED DAUGHTER HARUKA TROUGH HELL. Thank you Akiyama for trying to punch some sense in him, i would have done the same.

I understand the theme of shame was prevalent with Kiryu but at this point hurry up and die to take the Yakuza out with you (his words not mine). We fell for the clickbait since Kiryu is still among us smh.

As for Ichiban, many points were missing especially a more organic/verbalized connection and relationship with his mom. As much I liked Chitose’s act of redemption at the end, the “lets-stop-everything-so-i-can-disclose-my-boohoo-backstory-so-yall-can-feel-bad-for-me” had me shaking my head into an earthquake (ok I’m lying cause I was snoring). On a positive note, this is why I like the character of Tomizawa since he often came into opposition to Ichiban’s opinion and morals giving unfiltered thoughts.

DISLIKED: DÉJÀ VU & REPETITION DÉJÀ VU! DÉJÀ VU! DÉJÀ VU! The story’s white shirt is so stained with déjà vu spaghetti sauce it's giving rubber bullets, and my undisclosed brother is a CIA agent (if you know you know). Family dysfunction leading to resentment, daddy issues, Maury Povich, Tojo Clan conflict of the day word salad, The Big Bad Chinese™, etc. I know these topics are broad, but many were seen before IN THE EXACT SAME WAY but with different characters along with scenes being replayed as well…

DISLIKED: OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR: KASUGA ICHIBAN! as we could see, they gave Ichiban the Shonen protagonist/Jesus treatment (he is video game Luffy with the outfit too and the ultimate powers of Baryon Mode level Talk no Jutsu). It was all foreshadowed by the blasphemous promotion pic they released. Ironically this same image told us about the presence of a traitor (also the choice of name; Ebina. Hebi = Snake in Japanese) but I digress. Not only the trope is overdone in general, but the issue is also that they are taking away from his realistically “human” qualities and lowkey dehumanizing him into the untouchable unbreakable hero. I’m saying this because in Y7 the dream of being a hero was more him tapping into his inner child and resolving the lost time but now it's my hero = I’ve never met someone like you, Jesus. This same trope was an important point of Kiryu’s demise and (literally) suicidal tendencies. It’s like he’s too good for tears outside of being weaponized during talk no jutsu.

HATED: THE TOJO CLAN IS IN TROUBLE! No matter how much the disbandment of the Tojo and Omi was official we are still talking about the Yakuza conflict as if it’s not 2023-2024. I understand a big part of its presence it demonstrates how much people hold to past ways of life, but I am TIRED of the “Tojo this, Tojo that” like it never disbanded. This long sequence of rambling about hierarchy and the fight for power always sends me into a deep sleep. It always takes 2-3 business days to build everything back in place as if it never disbanded smh and it happens EVERY TIME. Ok, I’m being a hater. I’m sick of the Tojo Clan.

To be fair, it gets worse and worse as the game continues. the first half of the game is fair to display realistically the life of an ex-yakuza in a coherent way in the first part of the game. it may sound like i'm contradicting myself but everything akuza-related gets lost in the sauce further in the story. i just blinked and now it's all about a white saviour and Japanese nationalisim (mentionned by Daidoji family). TF?!

DISLIKED: TEENAGE DREAM ROMANCE I’m not a fan of the romance between Saeko and Ichiban. It seems forced and something the authors came up with for a plot device. Saeko always served One Piece’s Nami when it pretended to her follow male party members (not romantically attracted regardless of proximity). Ichiban you are too old to be this clueless, but I thought this aspect was both at the same time cringe as hell and deeply hilarious.

DISLIKED: FORGIVENESS I think I've said it before, but forgiveness was a big theme but why its always extended to people who need to be thrown in a dumpster and set on fire? This showed how much Ichiban wanted to successfully accomplish the redemption mission which failed with Masato. Which is cool I guess and measures up to Ichiban’s character. It would have been nice to see villains being villains (to the exception of Yamai, protect him at all cost) like Ebina could have openly rejected Kiryu’s teary kabedon, Eiji being left in the dumpster where he belongs or let him surrender himself on his own accord. I was praying for Dai-Jima-Jima to stand on business and reject Kiryu after being disrespected but mam I was wrong. Not saying people don’t deserve a second chance but it was overdone.

Also, the “naïve-and-my-friends-can-do-no wrong” theme with Ichiban was frustrating at times but paid off sometimes. i will lay off the hater train since characters like Sawashiro got what he deserved many times.

NOT A FAN: FANSERVICE & PLOTHOLES The entire presence of characters like Zhao and Joongi was for fanservice (let’s bring back these fan favorites!). they had no real reason to be there ESPECIALLY Zhao. What is he a cook? You are not part of or the leader of the Liumang anymore. Plot holes were filled with Joongi and “the BBC-Sherlock-Holmes-logic” If he could get so much info, why not include him earlier? I’m sorry to go there but the over-focus (and even further) Seonghui’s whole endeavor was to satisfy the male gaze. It’s a Yakuza game after all catered towards the straight male demographic, I’m not delusional. I'll tolerate it to some extent since they have beaten the character assassination allegations for her but WHY AM I SEEING HER BARE FEET?! Let’s be honest, Dai-Jima-Jima appeared for fanservice as well (like they already did in Y7 smh)

HATED: RACISM Chitose. I’m not gonna say more…

DISLIKED: THEY HAD TO INCLUDE THEM VTUBERS! The concept of Vtubers seemed out of place and unserious compared to the story. The protagonists are suffering under the weight of defamation… OOPS! Let’s cut to this Donald Duck Opioid voice having Vocaloid exposing the government. The most valid source of information around! NO FAKE NEWS HERE! Like What?!

ADORED: THE HUMANIZATION OF KIRYU KAZUMA I love how the sensibility, and vulnerability of Kiryu were put to the forefront. Regardless of this game's bad attributes, seeing the man behind the Dragon of Dojima was heartwarming admit his prominent flaws was amazing. This game turned me into an avid Kiryu’s stan. I love his new design, dark colors, and grey hair fit him and his fat ass. Hence why it was painful to see Kazuki and Yuya being avoided by him when they recognized the man’s humanity and pained heart. I will not forgive Kiryu for that.

LIKED: ALL THE PURISTS, DEAD IN A DITCH! I’m rejoicing as this game is RGG/Yakuza games purists’ worst nightmare. The Reddit bros and the “lets-keep-RGG-Japanese” crowd are suffering. First when Ichiban was released for looking “foreign” but now that he is biracial confirmed, THEY CAN PACK IT UP! A game in the USA and moments with pseudo woke agenda (their words not mine). I am feasting on their tears. Again I’m not delusional, RGG will always stay true to their main target audience but I'm celebrating every loss they get, IDC.

ADORED: FUNNY MOMENTS there were many funny moments. Going from unhinged Seonghui, Adachi & Nanba goofing around and Joongi revealing more of his personality. I had many good laughs. Of course, nothing tops all the overprotective toxic boy mom/dusty 40yo son interactions with Kiryu and Ichiban. i almost fell from my chair with the whole "policeman help! this scary tourist is trying to attack me as an america" and the infamous Bruddah!

ADORED: KAZUKI & YUYA perfect style update. They look amazing and better than anybody else. They give TVXQ on 10000% and they got fangirls. I’m dead.

ADORED: YAMAI if there is one thing RGG never fails to deliver on is their antagonists and vilains. i love his unhingedness, his class and how unpredictable he is. the drip is immaculate. aside from that, he has a interesting back story. his role fills up as both a father figure-like to Ichiban keeping him in check and an aloof ally. His taste in women is 124684/10 automatically making his a king.

ADORED: YU NANBA & ETC i really need to take the time say it but the character of Nanba in this game is crucial. His unmatched personality is allowing to revealed others' character. his conpassion (along with Seonghui, Saeko & Zhao) almost form a better party since they act like real friend.

GAMEPLAY: 5.5/10 The RPG-esque gameplay depends on the player's preference. Since I was watching my sister play, I could be biased and stopped after the completion of the main story but here’s the points I liked and disliked about it:

LIKED:

New Attacks. Many of them are super effective in defeating opponents fast.

Pound mates: they were super fun and helpful. While I wished for Yamai to have one as well. My favorite was the one for Kazuki & Yuya.

Kiryu’s Bucket & Memories.

Talk around the city & Bond Bingo.

Throwing Sawashiro in the river

DISLIKED:

LONG AS F. FEELS LIKE AN ETERNITY (AS A VIEWER)

TOO MUCH DUNGEONS

THANKS FOR THE INFO, THAT LED US NOWHERE. (INFORMATION FETCH QUESTS)

ANIMAL CROSSING ISLAND

FINAL THOUGHTS & OVERALL NOTE. A Disappointment. i maybe forget certain things but this game missed the mark. In my opinion the negative out way the positive to the point of being bad. Especially when it comes to the story alone (the gameplay is great regardless of its flaws). I’m not going to repeat my previous point the game is not passing the vibe check. Now all the hype before its release makes sense, RGG made sure to drop spoilers to feed the thirst and so-called “mystery” of the game. The joke is on me since they already got my money and it's only now that we realize this game is not the best (not worth 130-ish$). It all felt like a Yakuza Gaiden extension while actively refusing to give Kiryu a close casket death.

Overall, 4.5/10. Do not recommend it. I honestly don’t knows if I will be there or care for any future RGG game release, it doesn’t look promising.

#rgg #rgg7 #rgg studio #yakuza infinite wealth #yakuza #yakuza like a dragon #kazuma kiryu #kiryu kazuma #ryu ga gotoku #ichiban kasuga #seong hui #joon gi han #han joon gi #jo sawashiro #reviews #my reviews #video games #kazuki #yuya #koichi adachi #yakuza imagines #yutaka yamai #yu nanba #nanba yu #tianyou zhao #zhao #seonghui #yakuza 7 #chitose fujinomiya #sawashiro jo

[peakyscillian]

Daddy's Home | One Shot

Summary: Cillian's been away filming for months, finally he's home. Warnings: Fluff, mentions of smut & Dad!Cillian Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Fem!Reader Part: 1/1 Requested: Yes - Anon

Daddy's Home

Masterlist

Daddy's Home.

Cillian's arms were wrapped round your waist, his body pressed against your back, lips close to your ear, his breath fanning across your neck. "Missed you, darling" he hummed, you were trying your hardest to prepare dinner before the madness of the evening started.

"Cill, I missed you too, but the girls need collecting in fifteen minutes" you hated denying your husband but you couldn't leave your twin girls stranded at the school gate because he had wandering hands.

"I'll get them" he dropped a soft kiss to your shoulder, the heat the past week had been unbearable for Ireland, you were trying to wear as few clothes as possible while in the house.

Cillian returning from New Mexico was delighted at the short slip dresses and skimpy vests you were favouring.

"I'll have to call the school let them know" you turned in his arms.

"I love it when you go into mum mode, so hot" he teased, holding your hips against his.

"I swear to god Cillian, if we get a call from Mrs Walker about being late I will tell her why" you warned with a laugh.

Cillian smiled, finally letting go of your body "I bet she would be thrilled, probably hasn't had any since the war"

You rolled your eyes "You won't be getting any at this rate Murphy, maybe you could compare notes?"

Cillian was smirking, the slip dress would be so easy to remove, he knew for a fact you weren't wearing any underwear after the last quickie he had coaxed you into, in the sunroom.

He pulled you back into him, lips inches from yours "you just wait, going to put another baby in you at some point then everyone will know what dirty things we do"

You had raked your fingers in the short hair at the base of his neck "People already know we have sex, we have two girls who will be waiting for their father if you don't let me go" you pressed your lips against his a quick burst of affection.

Cillian groaned, watching as you headed for the hall to grab your phone "ten minutes Cillian" you chirped from the doorway of the lounge.

** Cillian usually avoided the school run, most people would ignore him, let him live his life but the mothers of Langford Academy were a different breed, the type to swoon over him, flirt and try their hardest to get his attention.

The doors opened just in time, saving him from a group of three mothers making a beeline.

His face lit up at the sight of his girls, holding hands, grinning widely once they had spotted him.

They weren't expecting him home until the weekend, the hardest surprise he had to keep.

"Daddy! daddy!" Jasmine was almost running dragging Lacey behind her.

Cillian had knelt down, ready to scoop them up in his arms, both of them giggling as he smothered their faces with kisses.

"When did you get home, mammy told us Saturday today is.."

"Friday" Lacey chimed.

"It was a surprise, so you would have a treat when you left school" he placed them back on the ground taking their bookbags and lunch boxes from them.

"We have so much to tell you daddy! You've been gone so long" Jasmine was looking up at him.

"Oh yeah? we better get home and start the gossiping then" he lifted Lacey up first into her seat followed by Jasmine a kiss for each of them.

**

You had set up dinner in the garden the girls each having a glass of fizzy pop as a treat with pink straws.

"Marcey was being mean to Lucy, so Jas told her to stop it or she would tell Mrs Walker, then Lucy told Jasmine she was a tell-tale, so I...I said that's it I am telling Mrs Walker" Lacey was in full swing sat on Cillians lap.

You couldn't believe you had two seven year olds who were both definitely heading towards seventeen.

Cillian had took to being a father of girls so easily, he didn't care if they insisted on playing with his hair or painting his nails, embraced all the pink clothing they gifted him when you'd been unable to sway them to the Navy options.

You were brushing Jasmines hair after her bath, dinner had been demolished, the evening was still warm, you and Cillian had promised the girls a late night. "and then daddy, she tripped me up on my way to see Mrs Walker"

Jasmine turned to look at her sister "She did not! Lacey is lying"

Lacey threw her sister a look, a look you know both girls got from you, "I am not" Lacey protested, bottom lip jutting out.

Cillian looked at you, a amused look on his face "Girls, if you start arguing then it's straight to bed. Lacey did Lucy trip you up?" Lacey buried her face into his neck, a mumbled reply leaving her mouth as she shook her head.

"See she lied!" Jasmine was daring her father to disagree with her, the stern look in her blue eyes.

"I just.. I just told a small fib not a lie, daddy I didn't lie" Lacey was close to tears now, her small hands cupping at Cillian's cheeks.

"Jas, it was a little fib nothing that hurt anyone, but Lacey we don't lie or tell fibs okay?" Cillian nudged his nose with hers as she nodded.

Jasmine threw herself back into you with a sigh "Always gets her way" she rolled her eyes.

"hey missy, Miss Jasmine Murphy, you also get your own way" You laughed leaning to drop a kiss on the top of her head.

"not as much as Lacey, just because she's the oldest and..and daddy's favourite" Jasmine was pouting now.

Lacey gasped " I am not! Mammy is daddy's favoruite thats why he married her!" Cillian laughed lightly "all of you, all three of you are my favourite girls" he was opening his arms for you all to crawl into him, hoping to settle the debate.

**

You watched Cillian return from putting the girls to bed, you were under the cotton sheet of the king size bed.

"All okay?" you asked placing your phone on the bedside table.

"Yes, we had a small debate over breakfast food for tomorrow, so it looks like you better wake up early to start on the eggs, bacon, pancakes and muffins" he winked disappearing into the walk in wardrobe.

"Hell no, I've made weekend breakfasts for the past three months, you're turn" you were sat on the edge of the bed now.

Cillian reappeared in the door way, in just a pair of boxers. "Oh yeah? what do i get in return?"

You batted your eyelashes, a innocent smile on your face "I could show you why I'm daddy's favourite"

Cillian laughed head thrown back, striding across the room he scooped you up, just to drop you moments later back onto the mattress.

He was leaning over you "Eggs? or Pancakes?" he questioned before his hands were under the small camisole you had on.

** Taglist

@missymurphy1985 @heidimoreton @cloudofdisney @janelongxox @queenshelby @being-worthy @elenavampire21 @magicalpieex @datewithgianni @inkandpen22 @pocket-of-possibilities @vhscillian @radioheadgirl @otterly-fey @uchihacumdump @lovemissyhoneybee @ysmmsy @alreadybroken-ts @anotherhitandrun @lyarr24 @blyanyan @gypsy-girl-08

#Cillian Murphy #Cillian x Fem!Reader #Dad!Cillian #Cillian Fluff #Cillian One Shot #One shot #Fluff #My Writing #Requested #Requests Open #Masterlist #Tag list #Pealyscillian Updates #not my gif

[agaypanic]

The Fella Part 7 (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)

Main Masterlist

The Fella Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: The girls go on an outdoor pursuits weekend with a bunch of Protestants from an all boys school. There’s absolutely no way this could go wrong.

A/N: I’ve decided that the last part of this series is gonna be the last episode of the second season. I haven’t seen the third season yet bc it isn’t on Netflix rn and I think that the ending of this series will be more satisfying if I end it with season 2.

***

Y/n woke up to doors slamming and people shouting. A regular morning in the Quinn-McCool household. Luckily, she’d be getting a bit of a break. Y/n and her friends were going on an outdoor pursuits weekend with the rest of their school, leaving this morning.

“Orla walked in on me in the tub!” Erin hissed, barging into Y/n’s room.

So much for that break.

“What were you pretending to be on this time? Parkinson?” She rolled out of bed, moving to her closet. She slapped Erin’s hand away when she tried reaching for a sweater. “Don’t even think about it.”

“It was Wogan, for your information.” Erin moved to Y/n’s dresser. “Can I at least take one of your trousers?”

“Over my dead body, Erin. Wear your own clothes.”

After the girls got dressed, they went downstairs and into the living room to get their packs. On the way, someone knocked on the door, and they let them in.

“Hey, Clare.” The girls brought her in for a quick hug.

“Don’t forget your waterproof trousers. They nearly bloody bankrupted us.” Mary came in from the kitchen. “Do the Protestants have to bring waterproof trousers? Or will the Catholics be expected to do all the dirty work?”

“Why do we even have to bring waterproof trousers?” Y/n asked as she tried stuffing it into her bag.

“What dirty work?” Erin asked, doing the same as her sister. “It’s an outdoor pursuits weekend.”

“I thought you said you would be building bridges?”

“Not real bridges, Mammy. Metaphorical bridges.” Erin rolled her eyes and laughed. As if she would ever build real bridges.

“Then why can’t you wear metaphorical trousers?” Mary asked. Y/n laughed as she finally zipped up her bag.

“Because then we wouldn’t be wearing any trousers, Mammy.”

“I know someone who’d like to see that,” Erin whispered. She and Clare snickered as Y/n’s face turned pink.

“Shut it.”

“Will any of your crowd be going, love?” Grandpa Joe walked up to Clare, who looked confused.

“My crowd?” Clare asked.

“Or can you not get Protestant lesbians?” 

“No, I think you can get them all right….”

“I heard that k.d. lang on the radio yesterday. Christ, but she’s some set of pipes on her. You’re very talented people.”

“Thank you?” Joe just nodded and walked off to sit on the couch.

“Has anybody seen my bow and arrow?” Orla walked into the kitchen from the backyard. Y/n took that as her cue to walk away and try her luck in the living room. In front of the TV, Gerry and Joe had a conversation about whether or not the British government was dubbing Gerry Adams’ voice because it was too sexy. 

Luckily, Y/n heard someone knock on the door and took it upon herself to answer it.

“Fuck-a-doodle-doo.” Michelle smiled brightly at the Quinn girl.

“Hi.” James smiled behind Michelle; his expression was a bit more subdued. Y/n let the two in with quick hugs. Michelle started going on and on about some fella, so she tuned out until that was over.

“I am buzzing for this weekend. Them waterproof trousers do wonders for my hole.”

“Ach, Michelle, I don’t care about your hole.”

“Mine are pink. They’re bright pink.” James grumbled.

“They were two for one, James. Stop crying.” That caught Mary’s attention.

“Two for one? Where?”

“Kay’s catalogue.”

“Why couldn’t you buy a two for one that wasn’t pink?” Y/n asked.

“Exactly, thank you!” 

“Because I look good in pink.” Michelle quickly answered before going back to her conversation with Mary. “By the way, my mammy said to tell you-”

“Her big bowl.” Mary nodded. “I know, I know, I keep forgetting; I’ll drop it round today.”

“No, she says you’re to hang on to it.”

“She doesn’t want her big bowl back? But why? There’s nothing wrong with that bowl.” To say Mary was baffled was an understatement.

“Sure, I was admiring that bowl only yesterday. It’s a grand bowl.” Aunt Sarah added before taking a drag of her cigarette.

“I’m just the messenger, folks.” Michelle held her hands up in surrender. Mary took a quick look at the clock on the wall and gathered the kids together.

“We need to shift ourselves. Listen, wains, I’ve already said this to Erin and Y/n.”

“Please, Mammy, don’t,” Erin begged.

“Not again,” Y/n whined.

“No funny business with these Protestant lads. Is that clear? I don’t want anybody landing back here pregnant.”

“James, are you Catholic or Protestant?” Erin suddenly asked.

“What?”

“Shut up, Erin.” Y/n kicked her sister, but that did nothing to cease her giggling.

“Teenage boys can be very convincing, girls.” Mary put a hand on her daughters’ shoulders. “I remember your father at that age and-”

“Please stop.” Y/n pushed her mother’s hand off, horrified.

“Yes, please do.” Gerry looked at his wife with the same face.

“We’re not doing this to get off with some protestant boys, Mammy.” Erin rolled her eyes. “We’re doing this to reach across the divide. We’re doing this for peace!”

***

“We’re doing it for peace, all right, Mary,” Michelle smirked as the girls and James made their way down the road. “A piece of that fine Protestant ass!”

“God, you are such a hypocrite, Erin.” Clare rolled her eyes at the girl.

“Why are we even trying to get with protestant lads?” Y/n asked. “I don’t really see the point. Besides, knowing Sister Michael and Jenny, they’re gonna be there watching like hawks and stop anything we try.”

“Because, Y/n, these Prods have some serious moves up their sleeves. They’re not as fucked up about sex as we are. They put the work in; they know what they’re doing.” Michelle smirked. “Besides, sneaking around makes it hotter.”

“They’re not sex toys, Michelle, Jesus.” Y/n scolded, and Michelle just shrugged.

“I beg to differ.”

“I’m really looking forward to making friends with some lads.” James cut in, a dreamy smile on his face.

“Oh, are we not enough for you, James?” Y/n jested.

“Lads aren’t going to make friends with you, James. Lads make friends with other lads.” James looked confused at Michelle’s statement.

“I am a lad.”

“Aye, so you are, James.” Erin laughed.

Before going to the bus stop, the group had to go to the shops. The Catholics had to give presents to the Protestants, who would give gifts to them in return. A silly thing to do, the girls thought.

“The riding of the Protestants is one thing, but I really don’t see why we have to buy them a present.” Michelle groaned as everyone counted out their money to pool. “They already have all the land, all the jobs, and all the fucking rights.”

“Aye, Michelle, that’s definitely the attitude we should have entering this weekend.” Erin took all the money, which wasn’t much, and gestured for everyone to go into the shop.

“I’m gonna stay out here.” Y/n leaned against the wall. “Dennis scares me a bit. He’s very loud.”

“I heard that!” A shriek echoed inside the shop, and Y/n had to muffle a laugh.

“Suit yourself.” Erin shrugged. She was about to walk in when she moved to the side so James could walk out.

“I’ll stay out here with her.” Erin gave Y/n a look at the boy’s statement and finally went inside.

“You didn’t have to stay out here, James.” Y/n kicked a stray pebble as the boy leaned against the wall next to her.

“I know, but I wanted to.” He nudged her shoulder with his, giving a soft smile. “Are you ready for this weekend?”

“Ugh, absolutely not. Michelle’s gonna be horny, Erin will most likely make a fool of her trying to keep up with Michelle, and Orla’s gonna try to live outside and hunt for her food. The only person I’m not really worried about is Clare, which is surprising.”

“What about me?” He seemed offended that she didn’t seem to feel the need to be worried about him.

“Oh, don’t even get me started, James.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” They both laughed. It was obviously just poking fun, but her answer was filled with truth.

“Ever since you’ve gotten to Derry, you’ve only really hung out with us girls. I know you wanna make friends with the lads. I just think that you might overdo it and scare them off.” There was a moment of silence.

“Maybe you’re right,” James spoke meekly.

“You just wanna be liked, James, it’s understandable. Just don’t try to change yourself too much to fit in.” Y/n looked up at James. “I like you the way you are if that means anything.”

She hoped it meant a lot to him.

“Thanks, N/n. That means a lot.”

It really did.

“N/n?” She asked.

“Yeah, it’s a nickname.”

“Oh, so we’re on a nicknames level of friendship now?”

“If that’s okay with you.” James laughed nervously as if Y/n would’ve been weirded out by the sudden name change.

“Fine with me, Jamie.”

“Jamie?”

“Yeah, it’s a nickname.” He playfully pushed her for repeating him. Trying to keep her balance, she fell into James, who kept her up with his hands around her. Their eyes stayed locked as he helped her stand up straight.

“James?” His name was said quietly as if Y/n didn’t want to ruin the somewhat tender moment.

“Yes, Y/n?” He gulped, not letting go of her even though he knew she’d be fine if he did.

“We’re late! We gotta go!” Clare yelled as she rushed out of the shop, forcing the two apart. The rest followed her, trying to get away from Dennis as he yelled at them.

“Come on, let’s go!” In the excitement of the moment, Y/n grabbed James’ hand, and they both ran to catch up with the girls.

***

After putting together a measly present for the Protestants, a run-in with Jenny Joyce, and a long bus ride, the Catholics and Protestants were finally going to meet. As the girls got off their bus, the boys pulled up to the small lot and got off. Both groups walked single file into the building and were then sent into groups to be paired up.

“Lads, you really shouldn’t have.” Erin grinned as the boys each handed the girls a small teddy bear.

“I’m starting to see that, all right.” The boy in front of her commented as he held up his present. It was a few pieces of candy and some small knick-knacks.

“It’s not our fault we’re poor.” Y/n remarked. She followed the boy’s, Dee, gaze over to Jenny, who handed her Protestant a giant TV. “Not all our dad’s can be surgeons.”

“I’m going to keep mine on my bed. Where I sleep, in my knickers.” Michelle smirked, keeping an eye on the boy across from her. He just seemed uncomfortable.

“We were told it was an all-girls school.” A lad sheepishly told James, who was holding a bear like the rest of the girls. “You’ve been a bit short-changed there.”

“Nah, it’s fine, mate.” James shrugged, deepening his voice just a tad. “It’s all good, man. I’ll… I’ll just give it to my bird.” That caught Y/n’s attention.

“Your bird?” The boy asked.

“Yeah, she’s really fit… and stuff.”

“James, dial it back a bit,” Y/n whispered to him. He suddenly seemed like he had a brilliant idea.

“There she is! Here you go, Darling.” He handed the bear to Y/n, even though she already had one. He pointed at her and turned to the boy. “This is my bird. Uh, Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you.” The boy said awkwardly. Y/n returned the gesture before sending a look to James.

“Your bird?” She mouthed, and he just shrugged. She rolled her eyes and just kept the bear close to her along with the other she had received. She tried to keep out of mind that James basically referred to her as his girlfriend.

‘It was just to get himself out of that awkward situation, Y/n.’ She reminded herself.

“Listen up, people!” Sister Michael pulled Y/n out of her thoughts. “You’re going to need a… well, they’ve used the term… ‘buddy’ for tomorrow’s activities.”

“I bagsy Harry!” Michelle immediately called.

“What?” Erin asked. “But that’s not fair; he’s the only good-looking one.”

“The rest of us are right here.” Dee scoffed as the boy across from Michelle, Harry, looked sheepish. Everyone else buddied up until there was only one left standing.

“Sister Michael!” Y/n waved her hand in the air to catch her attention. “I don’t have a Protestant.”

“Well, you’ll have to share with James.” Sister Michael shrugged.

“That works out great for you guys.” Y/n and James’ buddy commented. “Seeing as you’re all together and everything.” Before the two could clarify their relationship (or lack thereof), someone came into the room.

“Fucking hell,” Y/n muttered as everyone turned to look.

It was Father Peter.

“Kill me now.”

***

Y/n couldn’t recall much after Father Peter invaded their outdoor pursuits weekend. It was such a bore; she was in a half asleep state for most of the time. But the bonding activity he was having the kids do soon ended, and they were off to do their own thing until curfew.

The girls took curfew as more of a suggestion than the others did.

“I’m not sure about this,” Erin whispered as they walked up the stairs to the boys’ dorms.

“I knew you’d fanny out!” Michelle hissed.

“These lads have moves. You said so yourself, Michelle. And I haven’t got any moves.”

“Look, let’s just get in there, have a few drinks, and just loosen up a bit.”

“Why can’t we just go back to bed?” Y/n asked, suppressing a yawn. “Don’t we have to go on a hike or something in the morning?”

“Just be confident, Erin. Boys like that.” James gave the girl an encouraging smile while guiding her sister up the stairs.

“How the fuck would you know what boys like?” Michelle asked sharply.

“‘Cause I’m a boy, Michelle! I’m a real live boy.”

“Aye, you’re like our own little Pinocchio.” Y/n giggled.

The girls finally made it up to the boys’ dorm. They knocked on the door, and Harry opened it, looking rightfully confused. He wore a red jersey and shorts. It seemed like he was about to go to bed.

“We heard you boys are having a party,” Michelle said, trying to be seductive.

“No?” Harry responded.

“Well, you are now.” Michelle walked past Harry into the room, and the rest followed. Drinks were poured, and everyone paired off with their buddy to hang out in a different part of the small dorm.

“Fancy another beer, mate?” James asked his buddy, whose name turned out to be Jon. The boy shook his head politely. “Christ, but I just love beer. Don’t you just love beer?”

“Yeah, beer is nice.”

“I love beer and football and poker and, you know, tits.” That made y/n choke on her drink as she covered up a laugh.

“Tits?” Jon asked.

“Can’t get enough of them. Then again, I am a lad.”

“Jamie.” Y/n hit his leg, and he looked at her. “I’m getting kind of tired. Can you walk me back to the room?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah. Let’s go.” James hopped off the top bunk that he was perched on, glancing at Jon. “We’ll see you later, mate.”

“Where are you going?” Erin asked.

“Bed.” Y/n then dragged James out of the dorm and shut the door. “James, you’ve got to get a hold of yourself.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” James looked regretful and somewhat embarrassed as they trekked down the stairs. Noticing his mood had gone down, Y/n sighed.

“Come on, let’s see if we can raid the kitchen.”

It was a relatively easy task. All they had to do was quietly sneak down to the bottom floor and through a corridor into the kitchen. As James kept watch, Y/n went to the freezer.

“You think they’ll notice if a tub of ice cream’s gone missing?” Y/n asked innocently. James snorted.

“I think they will, N/n.” She shrugged and took out the container anyway. She then looked around for some spoons. Sitting on the floor, she gestured for James to come over.

“Come on, worry wart. It’s gonna melt if you don’t help me.” Hesitantly moving from his post by the door, James went to sit beside Y/n. She gave him a spoon, and they both dug in.

Luckily, it was a small tub, and in about ten minutes, it was gone. They now just talked about whatever they could.

“Next time, try not talking about tits. That’ll only help you make friends with assholes.” James laughed.

“Noted.” He looked over and saw a smudge of ice cream at the corner of her mouth. “Oh, hold still.”

“What?”

“You got something on your face.” He wiped it away gently with his thumb. But when it was gone, he didn’t bother to move. And she didn’t want him to.

“N/n?” He was quiet. Scared to be caught or scared to be heard, she didn’t know.

“Yes, Jamie?” He seemed hesitant to respond. But after a beat of silence, he did.

“Have you ever kissed someone before?” It felt like a strange question to ask, but Y/n answered anyways.

“Only in games. Never a, uh… Never a true kiss.” James nodded in understanding, still not moving away. If anything, he moved closer.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Y/n’s breath got caught in her throat. She felt like she was in a coming-of-age fairytale, where she finally got the guy she wanted.

“I’d kiss you back.” That seemed to surprise James. Y/n laughed. “Well, are you going to or not?”

That was all the encouragement James needed. He gently pulled her to him, bringing their lips together. They moved in sync perfectly. It wasn’t messy and rushed like the kisses James had shared with Katya. It wasn’t awkward like the kisses Y/n had when playing spin the bottle or truth or dare with others.

It was simple and sweet. It was a very James and Y/n kiss.

When they pulled away for air, their cheeks were pink with excitement.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” Y/n grinned. James mirrored her expression.

“I might have an idea. I figured out I liked you after Jenny Joyce’s party.”

“Well, I win because I figured out I liked you during Jenny Joyce’s party.”

“Since when was it a competition?”

“Since now!” They both laughed. When they quieted down, Y/n spoke again. “I was out in the back with David Donnelly. I kept talking about how I was sick of seeing Katya with you, and he told me it was because I liked you. And he was right.”

James’ hand made its way on top of hers. He grasped it firmly but not hard enough to hurt.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you after we left the party. I was worried because you had run away and then I didn’t see you until a few days later. And when I broke up with Katya, I felt… I don’t know, relieved?”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I felt relieved when you two broke up.” She squeezed his hand, her smile growing wider when he did it back. “So, what now?”

“Well.” James sighed, trying to think. “I’d like to kiss you again if that’s alright.” Y/n gave him a quick but sweet kiss.

“I meant, what’s gonna happen with us?”

“What do you want to happen?”

“I dunno. Do you think we could keep this between us for a bit? Just until we’re used to it. Then we can tell people.”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to, Darling.” She smiled and gave him another kiss. They cleaned up and quietly made their way up to their dorm. For some reason, Sister Michael didn’t see a problem with James sharing a room with the girls. But Y/n was happy about it. She was happy for many reasons tonight.

***

“I just did it for a laugh. The trousers.” James laughed nervously as he spoke to Jon next to him. Everyone was hiking to who knows where to do another bonding exercise led by Father Peter. For this exercise, you had to wear waterproof trousers. “I’d do anything for a laugh, me. I’m mad like that.”

“Right.” Jon nodded, not really seeming to care.

“James, can you come here for a sec?” Y/n asked behind him. He slowed his pace to walk next to her. They were behind everyone else, so no one would see them unless they turned around.

“What’s up?”

“What are you doing? Why are you acting so weird.”

“I just want to make friends with the lads.” James shrugged. Y/n sighed and grabbed his hand in a comforting manner. It was strange to her, how natural it felt.

“Just act like yourself, and you’ll make friends. I think you’re weirding Jon out a bit.” James nodded and was going to walk back up to Jon, but Y/n pulled him back. “By the way, I think you look nice in your trousers. Even if they’re pink.” They smiled at each other. James went up next to Jon, this time dragging Y/n with him.

Soon everyone got to what seemed like the top of some hill. There was a giant wall of stone in front of them that you could climb up if you went around to the other side.

“I think we all can agree that for generations, there’s been a deep lack of trust between your communities.” Father Peter started. Everyone already wanted him to stop talking. “And that’s where abseiling comes in. Abseiling is a great trust-building exercise. Because what you’re doing is, you’re saying to your buddy, ‘Lean on me, I’m here for you.’”

“Lean on me,” Y/n repeated sarcastically to James, who put most of his weight on her.

“I’m here for you.” Y/n tried pushing him off of her. He eventually stood up straight, opting to put an arm around her.

“Now, let me see who’s first.” Father Peter looked around in the crowd of students.

“You’re being pretty affectionate,” Y/n whispered as Peter picked out Clare and her partner, Phillip.

“Is that a bad thing?” James asked, ready to take his arm off her if she said yes.

“No. Just different.” She responded as they watched Clare and Phillip climb up to the very top.

“I know we agreed to keep this a secret for now. But I’m just really happy about it.” He squeezed her shoulder, looking down at her. “I’m happy about you.”

“And I’m happy about you.” They looked back up to their friend and her buddy. “We’re lucky that we were already kinda close before this.”

“Definitely.”

“Get me out of here!” Clare screamed as Phillip let her descend. “He’s trying to kill me! He wants to kill all of us, all of the Catholics!”

“What’s she on about?” Y/n asked the group. They didn’t know.

“He said he hated us,” Clare said.

“No, I didn’t.” Phillip looked confused.

“Last night, you said you hated Catholics. Admit it.”

“I said I hated athletes.” Phillip shrugged. “I’m not much of a sports fan.”

“But we weren’t even talking about athletes!” Clare cried out, still dangling over the side of the mountain.

“Well, I thought we were!”

“Why would you have thought we were talking about athletes?”

“Because I’m deaf in one ear!”

Everybody thought about the two words. Michelle cupped her hands around her mouth.

“Catholics does sound a bit like athletes, to be fair to him, like.”

“Catholics and athletes sound nothing alike, Michelle.” Y/n rolled her eyes. “Now, someone get Clare down from there before she has an attack!”

“They’re all arseholes,” Harry said from behind Michelle and Erin. The girls turned around to face him and Dee.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You tried to swap us! Because all protestants are the same? Aren’t they, girls?”

“Yes.” Michelle shrugged.

“No!” Erin tried to cover up her friend’s response.

“This girl carries a knife and makes people bury their own excrement.” Some boy in the crowd said. He was pointing at Orla, who appeared to be his buddy.

“I knew we should’ve checked her bag before we left.” Y/n groaned, burying her face in her hands. So much for having a break this weekend.

“Fucking Catholics.” A boy muttered. Y/n picked her head up.

“Who the fuck said that?” She looked around to see Harry lock eyes with her. “You think you’re all that, pretty boy? Get the fuck over here!” Y/n launched herself at him, being backed up by her friends. Soon everyone was fighting, and Clare was still hanging by her rope.

“Don’t touch the hair!”

“I’ll do what I want!” To prove her point, Y/n yanked Harry’s hair at the scalp.

“Should we break it up?” The head of the boys’ school asked as she and Sister Michael watched the chaos.

“Let’s leave it a minute.”

~~~

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#derry girls #derry girls x reader #james maguire #james maguire x reader #agaypanic

[godfrey-the-chaos-duck]

In her answer to the "get to know your moots better" tag game, @justaboot mentioned she'd love to go backpacking in Ireland.

As someone who lives here, I am making this post for anyone who wants to visit Ireland at any point, and I figure now's as good a time as any.

Weather

It rains like 24/7 here so bring a fucking rain coat. And an umbrella. I'm so serious. There will be mornings where you'll leave your hotel/tent/wherever you're staying and you'll think "It doesn't look like it's going to rain" NO. BRING THE COAT. The sky is lying to you. Just because it doesn't look like it'll rain does NOT mean it's not gonna rain!!

The west and north tend to get worse weather, but rain happens everywhere here.

History

Not gonna get into it here because that'd be wayyyy too long of a post, but a lot of our tourist attractions rely on people having at least some kind of knowledge of Irish history and/or folklore. It's interesting, if a bit depressing at times, but I'm pretty sure that goes for all countries.

Long story short we were under British control for a really really really REALLY long-ass time, and we fought like hell to get our independence. Oh - speaking of which, if you're anywhere near the border between the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland, it's a good idea to avoid wearing orange ESPECIALLY in or around July. This is because orange is seen as a symbol of Unionist beliefs (ie, the belief that Ireland should be part of the UK) and it's a REALLY touchy subject for a lot of people. Do your research. Trust me on that.

Language

First off, most people speak English here (unless you're in a Gaeltacht region, where people mainly speak Irish. These are located in Cork, Donegal, Galway, Kerry, Meath, Mayo and Waterford, and they can be a great cultural experience but it's not for the faint of heart.) However, there are like a zillion different regional accents so good fucking luck trying to understand people 😂😂

The way Irish people talk has some nice quirks, some of which I'll share here.

Craic (pronounced "crack") No, it's not drugs. The word craic generally means a good time or other happenings. There are three main ways the word is used.

"What's the craic?" = What's up?/Any news?

To have the craic = To have fun, especially at a party

"No craic" = Boring, nothing happening at all.

If someone invites you for a "cuppa" or better yet, a "cupán tae" (pronounced "cup awn tay") they want you to come in and have a cup of tea with them. This is usually accompanied by a LOT of small talk, which Irish people are experts at.

Other expressions vary WILDLY by county and sometimes even by region, so I'm afraid I'm not much help to you here.

Things To Do Here

First off, our restaurants are quite overpriced, as are our hotels. However, our healthcare is fairly cheap.

We have SO MUCH NATURAL SCENERY. If the weather allows, definitely go out and explore it! Just watch out if you're hiking, as the rain makes a lot of places muddy and slippy, so maybe bring the good hiking boots. We also don't have a lot of animals that can kill you, which is great!

As I mentioned, we have a lot of places to go that are based in our history, and they can be great places to learn about Ireland's past. But if you're not interested in history (which is fine) there are plenty of other options. We have a wax museum in Dublin, a theme park called Emerald Park (formerly Tayto Park, after an Irish potato chip brand) and a LOT of great theatres, pubs and clubs. Oh yes, if there's one thing we do well here, it's our night life!

We even have a coastal trail called the Wild Atlantic Way, which stretches all the way up our western coastline, from Cork to Donegal.

And lastly, if you're in the area, there is this fucking LEGENDARY ice cream parlour in Sligo called Mammy Johnstons. It's RIGHT next to the beach, and (in my limited experience) it's the BEST ice cream place in the country.

So yeah! Enjoy your trip!

🇮🇪🇮🇪🇮🇪

#the chaos duck has spoken #ireland

[overtlydinosaurian]

As we get closer to Christmas eve, I hope everyone thanks the women in their lives for making it happen. For cooking the feats, for cleaning the house, organizing and buying the presents, reading and considering your wants and needs, and decorating. Yes men might sometimes do this too but let's be real- for the most part, they most certainly are not.

Below is the article (not sure if paywalled, either way it's easier to just read in app). All emphasis added is my own.

https://www.irishtimes.com/life-and-style/people/christmas-is-a-feminist-issue-who-does-all-the-menial-emotional-mental-labour-1.4095802

Christmas is a feminist issue: Who does all the menial, emotional, mental labour?

It is time to strike – You never know, you just might get a Christmas miracle

My family is blessed. We live in a house with a self-cleaning bathroom. What’s that, you ask? Well, it’s a bathroom that regularly replenishes itself with clean towels and full tubes of toothpaste. The loo roll automatically replaces itself and the small bin under the sink empties itself when full. The hot press is refilled with clean bed linen, and clothes in the laundry basket somehow get themselves to the washing machine and back to dry by what seems like magic.

Mea culpa. I tell a lie. My family used to live in such a wondrous place until last week, when I went on bathroom strike. For five days I stopped doing all the necessary chores associated with the bathroom, and yes, even though I am very, very far from being a house proud or tidy person, I found it difficult. But in the service of feminism if not sanity, I bit my lip at the empty loo roll holder, the dirty towel still on the handrail and the toothpaste stains smeared all over the handbasin, until eventually I could stand it no more and I informed the other people I share a home with that there was no magic elf and if they wanted the bathroom cleaned they would have to do it themselves.

Cue shock, horror and disbelief; dear Lord, you would think I’d told them that Santa himself doesn’t exist.

Fortunately, however, we know that not only does Santa exist, but Mrs Santa will send her elves to earth to do all those chores that need to be done in every household before Christmas. You know the ones I’m talking about: the ordering gifts online and ensuring they are delivered on time: The gift wrapping of the pressies that need to go under the tree (has anyone seen the sellotape?) and purchase of all those itty-bitty gifts needed for Christmas Stockings (the dog needs one too) that hang over the fireplace.

There’s the extra decorations that make the house look properly festive – don’t forget a new wreath for the front door, they’ll be sold out before December 15th! – All this in addition to the necessary house cleaning, food buying and meal cooking that must be done before we ring in the New Year.

Oh sorry. There I go, lying again. Because whatever about Santa, sadly there have been no houseworking elves in my world since I left the Mammy and moved into my own home. That is when I discovered that there are three types of unpaid labour that women are expected to do, without thanks or recognition let alone financial compensation.

Firstly, there is menial housework, as in the aforementioned bathroom and sitting room and repeat ad nauseum. I am talking about all the repetitive, boring stuff we have to do so that Health and Safety doesn’t stage an intervention. This is the work that is done primarily by women – and when the men do it, they expect a reprieve from all menial jobs for at least a month as well as a huge clap on the back while a Greek chorus plays “Isn’t He Wonderful” behind them. (Obviously, I’m talking about the majority of men here. There is a lot of empirical evidence to back me up, so please don’t email, text or tweet me saying you’re a bloke that does housework and I’m a nagging, ball breaking, feminazi. I get lots of communication like that already thank you.)

Second, there’s mental labour, which includes the planning of dinners, school lunches, kids clothes, dental appointments. It’s lying in bed figuring out play dates, present buying and how on earth you’re going to get the dishwasher repaired while picking up the groceries, visiting your Granny and working a full time job. It’s when you nag at your spouse or kids about having to do it all solo and they roll their eyes and say, “make a list” or “just tell me what needs doing”.

This drives me crazy because in the workplace, recognising and organising what needs to be done and then delegating those tasks is called management. This is a respected job which is rewarded with appropriate remuneration and status. When a woman does the same at home, it’s called nagging. There is no reward and no appreciation of your managerial skills. There is definitely no status associated with it. Except the status of skivvy and martyr.

Third, there’s emotional labour, which involves ensuring that everyone stays happy, included, cared for and satisfied.

Arlie Hochschild, the sociologist who introduced this phrase, defined it as work (paid and unpaid), where you “induce or suppress feeling in order to sustain the outward countenance that produces the proper state of mind in others”. Bluntly, it’s putting a smile on your face as you serve Christmas dinner when all you want to do is tell the world to feck off and then lock yourself in the sitting room with the dog and a large (bottle of) gin to watch reruns of Poirot (me, pretty much every Christmas Day).

You don’t have to be a feminist to resist doing the three types of work I mention above. You just have to be a man. Because, to answer Caitlin Moran’s question, “Are the boys doing it?” in the vast amount of cases they most certainly are not. They will leave the cooking and cleaning to you but assume they are doing their fair share if they fill the dishwasher after Christmas dinner and wash the odd pot.

It is the biggest mystery of all time. Why – despite all the advances of feminism - do women still do the lion’s share of housework, the second shift? Why, in 2019, does the latest ESRI study show that women spend double the time of men on caring and more than twice as much time on housework? The simple answer is that most men don’t want to do all that stuff. Why should they – it’s thankless work. And while women continue to cook, clean for them and pick up their dirty socks, they don’t have to.

Ladies, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s time to strike. And then wait to see if Mrs Santa sends those house elves to visit. You never know, you just might get a Christmas miracle. And if not, at least you’ll have a less stressful one.

#Christmas #feminism

[bohemian-nights]

- Nettles is specifically stated as a brown girl in the book. Take it up with George RR martin. The speculated actress for Nettles is a brown woman. You think she's black? That's okay since she's clearly of mixed heritage. However, you weaponizing race isn't going to go over well since main point is most of us wocs don't want a woc to be given this treatment in the show.

- "She is an adult by westerosi standards"? That doesn't mean anything. Do you also count 14-yo Rhaenyra as grown woman in the book when Daemon was "educating" her about seduction and sex? Do you count the likes of Helaena who was forced to give birth at 13-14 and adult simply because she was married? This is the same excuse people use to excuse the grooming of young girls in what's clearly a patriarchal society.

- IT IS GROOMING!! You're making excuses for Daemon's behavior. I'll give it to OP last time who called out your "i can fix him" behavior when yous said "he isn't all bad". They're 100% right!! We literally have lines from the book where he is teaching her how to act, giving her gifts, etc. She's a lowborn teen girl and he's a middle-aged royal prince. There is no world this isn't grooming!

- Him letting her go does not mean he loves her. Ya'll just be romanticizing sh*t. This is a grown man of 50. He does not need saving from his depressed and paranoid wife who lost her children just because of your misogynoir and self-insert fantasies!

You have to look outside your little bubble and realize Nettles/Daemon isn't liked outside of your little circle because of all the problematic aspects and not because of some shipping war. Is this is how you want a woc to be treated? Do you want to see women being pitted against each other just because you hate the other one? Over some white man...seven help us then

Her alleged actress and her first canon depiction back in 2015👆🏽 Black people have brown skin too dear(which is how Netty is described). She could be Blackish(never denied that just the insinuation she wasn't Black at all), but why should she even be Valyrian? I'm terribly afraid that the point keeps going over your head🙃

Daemon did groom Rhaenyra, but he isn’t the villain when it comes to Nettles. I’m sorry this isn’t a gotcha moment for you but she was a legal adult who he had a consensual relationship with. Him rescuing Nettles and put her, someone who wouldn’t be missed by anyone except him, above his own safety. That is nothing to sneeze about(and no, you can’t compare their relationship with Dumbnyra because it’s actually supposed to be romantic).

Instead of wanting her to have a rich character arc, you want to put Nettles into a box where she’s Rhaenyra’s Magical Negro/Mammy who helps her wake up and realize that she’s being groomed and wipe her tears away so that she can live another day.

You need to step outside of your bubble and acknowledge your misogynoir(which is a term created by and for Black women to describe our issues, not for whoever you are trying to hijack and use it for). Acknowledge that the sisterhood ends with racism. As a WOC you should know that.

Nettles is the victim of a woman who used racially charged language while ordering her to be murdered in her sleep. Rhaenyra isn’t just some poor unfortunate woman who lost her marbles(being mentally ill doesn’t excuse racism). She’s a queen who uses her power to punch down and she chooses Nettles as one of her many victims.

She chooses to try to make a Black woman(and potentially her baby) into victim(s) of a hate crime. I’m under no obligation to ignore that for the sake of the sisterhood(how dare you suggest I do).

I am under no obligation to sing a racist woman’s praises just because she’s a woman to stick it to the man. If that’s what you want from me or else you’ll accuse me of I’m pitting women against women, then sweetheart, you need to have several seats and take up your issues with GRRM (because he most certainly didn’t write your self-insert to be considered “a clear cut good person who you must worship or else,” which is why you are boiling over people like myself calling out your drivel).

#if you don’t want me to call you out on your bs stop writing bs 🤷🏽‍♀️ #pitting women against women 🙃 please #again stan who you want but don’t go screaming misogyny when people point out that a racist white woman isn’t the victim here #come up with a better excuse for all of this than i’m a delusional self-inserter #nettles is the one time that daemon wasn’t the villain #you all will deal with that #anti rhaenyra stans #nettles #bnask #bnasks #dettles #daemon targaryen #hotdask #daemon targaryen x nettles #hotd fandom misogynoir #dattles #hotd fandom racism #netty #dumbnyra anon