1theneighborhoodcoffeeaddict1
Same on AO3. I try to publish something, either a new chapter or work, twice a month.
192 posts
Latest Posts by 1theneighborhoodcoffeeaddict1
Top White House adviser Stephen Miller says 'we're actively looking at' suspending due process for migrants
I would say this is on the nose, but we’re past that. We’re up the nose, tickling the conchae- in a few weeks, we’ll be getting fucking mummified here!
I made a Grok gijinka as a joke but he's genuinely really fun to draw
Pretty good. I’m looking forward to what you make next!
Lily of the Valley and Cigarette Butts
Summary: LORE Rekindled Oneshot, canon complacent, takes place after ep 70, in which a confused Minthe opens the door to none other than Persephone.
Word Count: 2.9K
Warnings: swearing, references to violence, lots of smoking A/N: So, I’ve never posted fanfiction before, but I’m a huge fan of @genericpuff’s LORE Rekindled series and while showering, this oneshot popped into my head. And it hasn’t left. So after a lot of editing and rereads, here it is. I have never smoked a cigarette in my life so everything in this is an educated guess. I hope I did these awesome characters justice. @1theneighborhoodcoffeeaddict1
Minthe angerly paced the length of the swimming pool, wet red hair swinging behind her. He was late. Hades’s little family reunion, which usually took three or four hours, had him gone for ten. She slowly inhaled a searing breath of nicotine before putting out the stub against an expensive flower pot.
What the fuck could he be doing? Was Zeus keeping him out there? Sometimes he brought the king of the gods home, smelling like wine and ozone, too ashamed to crawl back to his palace. She’d have to avoid her favorite living room if that’s who Hades returned with, lest she be accosted by Zeus. At least Hades didn’t bring his sister-in-law around anymore. When he’d invited her over that rainy night, she’d finally told him how much it hurt that he constantly invited that bitch into their home. And Hades had listened. Baby steps.
Minthe’s fingers shook lifting the lighter to her mouth. Her reflection in the pool water was nothing but a smudge of frantic red, framed by cream pink flowers.
Without thinking, Minthe spun around and lifted the lighter to the potted plants. Of course her fucking boyfriend put pink flowers where he relieved all his stress. Her fucking boyfriend, not Kore, Persephone, whatever. Hades was her boyfriend.
She couldn’t have him.
The flowers smoldered, red flames tall in the air. For one glorious moment, the toxicity and violence of the action lifted her up to an ambrosial high-and she didn’t even do that shit. Then like a meteor, she landed back in reality and the gravity of her consequences tugged the skin tight around her bones.
Hades was going to yell at her. Minthe clenched a cigarette tight in her finger. She would yell back. Her teeth practically bit into the end of it. He would ask her why. The heat burned her mouth. She would ask him why he’d been late. Her lungs choked on the toxic smoke. He’d tell her to answer his question.Minthe sputtered on the exhale. She’d tell him to go to hell. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. He’d say he always already there.
It would be the stupid argument to end all stupid arguments, even worst than the time he’d dumped her over a tube of lipstick. And just like that, Minthe could see the ashes of her relationship slipping through her fingers like burning flower petals.
This is your fault. The voice sounded like Hera’s, predicting the words the goddess would hiss next time they met. You could’ve waited. He wouldn’t have yelled if you had just waited.
She didn’t need the queen of the gods rubbing in her mistakes like she was a steak on Tartarus’ Tavern. Minthe took another long drag of her cigarette, and briefly, everything seemed quiet. But another voice joined, smooth and sweet-
I would’ve waited.
The cigarette landed on the tile with a wet splat. Minthe dragged her ash covered fingers through her hair, the wisps of a scream escaping through clenched teeth. These moments made her feel like a bomb. Each new voice criticizing her-from the rulers of this very realm to judgey Fatesbook users-was like another spark to the fuse. Eventually, one would catch.
Minthe would look like a complete bitch. Everyone would leave her. She’d be left behind to slowly pick up the pieces of herself and an apology for shit she didn’t do would be expected in three to five business days.
When did her life get so predictable?
When the knock came, Minthe ignored it. Hades always came through the garage. It was probably just some sleazy minor deity, come to shake a business deal out of the god of wealth. She’d leave them to their own impatience.
It wasn’t until Cerberus bolted past her for the door that Minthe got up to let him in. Worry twisted her empty stomach. If he wasn’t letting himself in, something bad must’ve happened. The triple heads of anxiety, regret, and defensiveness reared within her.
Cerberus whined, pushing his noses against the base of the entrance. Minthe gave him a soothing pat before opening the door. She expected to see Hades, bruised and bloody.
She did not expect to see Persephone on the door step, clad in a beautiful white dress with delicate butterflies perched in her hair.
Minthe immediately moved to close the door, sure this was a nightmare. To her horror, Cerberus pushed the door open with one head and greeted Persephone with his other two.
Persephone softly cooed to the dog, scratching behind his ears, while Minthe stood there in shock. Anger was forming like lightning in her blood. Professional relationship her ass, Persephone was on Hades’s doorstep, dressed to the nines, while petting his dog like she’d known Cerberus his entire life. This was clearly not the first time she’d stopped by, judging from the way Cerberus eagerly leaned into her touch.
Panic overtook every emotion in her body. The cold, cruel realization that she was being replaced froze her in place. After everything she’d done, all that she had put in and worked on, and she was losing to a saccharine pink, organic sugar, goddess of gardens.
No. No, she wouldn’t be replaced. She had done too much for that son of a bitch to be pushed aside for Persephone.
“Hades isn’t home.” Minthe said slowly, lacing each word with venom. “You missed him.”
“I know.” Her voice was annoyingly perfect, just like everything about her. Somewhere between godly loud and mortal high. A stupid combination of good attributes. “I came to pick something up.”
Yeah fucking right. Minthe had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep the words from escaping. “What are you looking for?”
“My mother’s brooch.”
“Why would Hades have your mother’s brooch?” Minthe tried not to seethe but honestly. They’d known each other for a few months and he was holding on to her family heirlooms? Hades could be intense but she’d never seen him be so invested. It pissed her off.
“I was wearing it the day of my interview.” Persephone replied, eyes finally lifting to meet her own. “I lost it during my foray into Tower Four.”
Oh. That’s why she was here. Despite the truce they’d made, Persephone obviously had her doubts with Minthe, just like she had for her. Only she didn’t have a good lie for showing up to her house with an excuse to snoop.
Minthe stood back, opening the door for Persephone to step through. “I suppose you don’t want my directions.” She bit out.
“No, I don’t.” Persephone admitted, briefly cocking her head to study Hades’s grand atrium. It was certainly a sight to behold with its carved marble and pristine tiles but surely nothing that a goddess like her hadn’t seen before. “He said he brought it into the lounge.”
Minthe followed Persephone with no amount of subtly. She paid her no mind, only looking in her direction when Cerberus brushed against her legs. Her eyes widened at the sight of a burning pot of plants but Minthe hissed, “Don’t even think about it,” before she could remark. Wisely, Persephone didn’t.
Minthe scrutinized her, trying to understand what the hell Hades saw in her. A goddess with large tits and an acceptable face, there were hundreds of those. There had to be something past looks that drew him in-right? Persephone’s pink hair was longer than usual, almost to her feet and tinged with a green that was clearly magic, not box dye. “You might want to get a hair cut before work tomorrow.”
“It doesn’t matter. Tomorrow’s my last day.”
The words came with such finality that Minthe had to wait to make sure they were real. Hard working, humble, studious Persephone was quitting her first non-nepotism job? She had to tamp down a few overly excited questions as Persephone explained. Though Minthe didn’t miss the way her dirt covered fingers curled into fists.
“Hera invited me to her home to do some gardening today,” Of course Persephone was chummy with Hera. Why the hell shouldn’t she be? “But some uninvited, very intoxicated guests showed up.”
“Hades and his brothers.”
Persephone snorted. They were walking side by side through the dark halls but Minthe could see the frustration and rage lining the goddess’s features. She didn’t want to admit that she hadn’t been this afraid since they striked their truce, blood red eyes glaring down at her.
“Poseidon and Zeus had to carry him between themselves. Dio knocked him unconscious.”
Dionysus as well. Was there anyone in the Olympian family not eating out of this woman’s very palm? Hermes had lied to her, her best friend and boyfriend were the twins, and even Hecate defended her. Persephone was just that damn perfect.
Minthe bit back her own jabs to ask, “Why the hell did Dionysus knock my boyfriend unconscious?” She wasn’t going to drink wine for the next ten years out of spite.
“I don’t know. He was pretty disoriented when he woke up and we didn’t get to talk much during dinner because Hera and Zeus were-”
“Arguing?”
“Zeus said one thing about the food and Hera took it personally.”
Minthe rolled her eyes. “Not a fan.”
“He’s my creator.” Minthe felt herself go into cardiac arrest. But Persephone winked in what she could only guess was an attempt to be reassuring. “But I wasn’t impressed either. For a king, he’s terrible at first impressions.”
“He’s also bad at talking to anyone he doesn’t want to fuck.” Minthe muttered. Persephone looked like she was wanted to smile through her disgust.
“I went to the garden to escape them and Hades followed.” Persephone paused in the entrance of the lounge. She seemed to be staring at the stuffed chimera head on the wall. “I asked him why he’s been giving me the cold shoulder at work.”
Minthe had been wondering that too though she’d chalked it up to Hades getting his shit together, taking the hint on how much it bothered her, or both. “What did he say?”
“That he wanted to be professional.”
Thank Gaea, he was listening. Persephone settled into one of the arm chairs, the crystalline flower brooch clutched in her fingers. Minthe hovered over her shoulder, impatience tainting her voice. “And?”
“I broke down by telling him that I’ve been stressed out by work and not having the brooch all week. Hades told me he was sorry.” Of course, both things Minthe had done to try and get Persephone out of Underworld Co had brought them closer together. “But then I told him about my friend Alex blocking and ghosting me and he got this . . . I’ve never seen that look on him before.”
Minthe’s curiosity was morbidly piqued. A deep instinct told her what the god of the dead had done, as he loved to do, but another wanted to know exactly what her boyfriend had done to scare her off. “What did he say?”
Persephone was quiet for a long time before she spoke. It was only because Minthe was intimately familiar with the sound that she recognized the goddess was holding back tears. “Hades ripped out Alex’s left eye.”
This time the words flew out of her mouth without forethought. “What the fuck?”
A quiet sob broke out of Persephone. Through pink, shimmering tears, she told Minthe the story from the morning after the Panatheana to Persephone’s reaction just hours ago. Which was to bury Hades with a newly grown tree and storm out without another word.
“I wasn’t leaving without my brooch.” Persephone finished, shoulders slumped. “I’m taking this, turning in my badges tomorrow, and I’ll never be in your life again.”
It sounded like an apology which pissed Minthe off. She didn’t need sympathy. “Don’t sound so sentimental, Pinkie.”
Persephone crossed her arms, sniffing softly. “I thought he was my friend.”
No, no, they were not doing this. They were not going to braid each other’s hair and bitch over boyfriends when Minthe still had one. Hades and her were miserable together. There was no one else for them. If Persephone couldn’t handle a little darkness, she could leave. Nobody was keeping her here.
“And now?” Minthe needed to hear, for her own reassurance.
“A part of me still cares for him.”
Well of course she did. This was lollipop sweet Persephone. “And the other part?”
“Wants to punch him in the face again.”
“Again?”
Persephone nodded down the hall. “I reacted a little strongly to his presence when I first woke up here.”
Minthe smiled bitterly. “I won’t stop you.”
Persephone smiled back, fingers reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. Minthe jerked back and Persephone smiled apologetically. “Thank you, Minthe. This month has probably been really hard for you. You’re such a patient person.”
She blinked. She didn’t get thanked often and she shook off the warm feeling of appreciation that surged through her at the praise. Minthe had to be the one person who was immune to her charms. “You’re welcome, Persephone.”
The goddess stared blankly at her. “Kore.”
“What?”
“You can call me Kore.”
One non-hostile conversation had apparently leveled Minthe up to being able to call her the maiden instead of the bringer of death. “Do you want me to call you a psychopomp?”
“No, I’ll fly home.” Right. Gods didn’t need transportation, they were transportation. As Kore got up, Cerberus happily trailing behind her, she turned around. “I understand if it’s personal, but I am the daughter of Demeter and she taught me to never come in empty handed . . . But I did. Is there anything I can give you in return for welcoming me into your home?”
Minthe had never been a stickler for tradition but she couldn’t really object to a goddess. “Well, what were you thinking of?”
“Those flowers?” Kore adjusted the brooch on the collar of her dress. “It’ll only take a second, I swear.”
Minthe found herself agreeing, telling herself it was only because it was better to erase the problem, even if it was Kore doing’s. But she’d underestimated how much of a mess she left. Shame licked a hot streak up her neck and arms as Kore took in the cigarette butts and lighters. Of course, she didn’t say anything. She was Kore. Minthe reminded herself that that was a bad thing.
The flowers were still smoldering and with a wiggle of her fingers, the rest of the flowers wilted.
“Some flower goddess.”
“For something to grow healthily again, you have to get rid of it’s toxic roots.” Kore smiled, her rosy skin glowing with power. “If I simply made it grow again, it’d wilt again after a few weeks.”
The petals and stems melted into the dirt, leaving a glowing sheen over the soil. Kore gave a soft hum and new flowers emerged, bright pink and shimmering with life. Kore was smiling to herself proudly and Minthe had to admit, her powers were kind of cool. She was hardworking and intelligent, and if tomorrow was her last day . . . Well, maybe she could enable her computer program again.
Minthe watched Kore fade into the sky, trails of magic fluttering behind her. Cerberus whined pathetically after her. Minthe scratched between his ears, rolling her eyes. So easily attached.
Hades still wasn’t home so Minthe busied herself. He wasn’t going to be back for a while if the god of madness and Persephone had gotten to him. She sweeped away the ash and butts and made herself dinner, Cerberus circling her the entire time at the smell. When she sat down to eat, she didn’t pull out her phone and mindlessly scroll Fatesbook. Minthe tried to follow the advice those hippies shilled out of ‘living in the moment’-appreciating the fruits of her labor and the sweet taste of victory. Kore was finally leaving her life at the cost of some photographer’s eye.
Minthe cringed at the thought. Despite the farce she put on for Kore, violence unsettled her. It was too close to home, the brutal power of the gods that could end her life in a snap. Hera’s face came too mind much too quickly. But Hades could never scare her. She knew him like the back of her hand and a temper was one of the flaws that she’d come to love him for. It was something they had in common. But where Hades had the power to take it out on others physically, she had to settle for subtle digs and schemes.
Miserable together she thought, wiping her lips with the napkin. That’s the way we want it to be.
Sitting at the edge of the pool, a glass of water in her hand and some book she hadn’t opened in forever, Minthe felt … Happy. A rarity for her. And when she saw the clusters of new pink flowers behind her, she surprised herself by picking one. Just a small one and her long red tresses hid it well.
But it was there nonetheless. A little bit of Kore to accompany her as she got ready for the night. Her compliment still buzzed pleasantly beneath her skin, and she was torn between letting it stay or beating it away with a stick. The goddess was leaving, she couldn’t hurt her anymore. And she’d been … Nice, even considering everything Minthe had done. Even she could appreciate such saint like grace.
A dark voice spoke in her head, a defensive mechanism after so many years alone. She’s just pretending. There are no perfect people.
Minthe quelled the voice by telling it to fuck off and let her sleep. And she did. Better than she had in a while.
The flower was still lush with life when she woke up. New soil would keep it like that for a long time.
oi! send me your favorite reaction / expression panels from Rekindled, I'm working on a thing 👀
Fingers crossed!
I just got a comment on a fic I wrote in 2015* and to celebrate my good fortune, I want to send out a wish that any fic writer who sees this gets a comment too
*(and yes I replied within approximately 2 minutes 🤣)
God bless America, and God damn the GOP.
I want you to remember:
The fascists hate you too and they just will pretend otherwise until after they've killed the rest of us, before they turn on you.
Tha
Since someone in the comments is being an asshole, here is the WARSAW GHETTO MUSEUM confirming the story. She killed one of the SS guards and wounded another- by some accounts, crippling the bastard.
In 1943, upon arrival to Auschwitz, Jewish ballerina Franceska Mann stripped “distractingly,” stole an SS guard’s pistol and shot him dead.
Mann was able to wound another guard in the stomach before being killed. The other women took her attack as a signal to rebel.
According to some accounts, before the women were murdered, they were able to scalp one Nazi and tear the nose off another.
I always hated the false Holocaust narrative that all Jews went passively to their deaths, and think we must remember those who fought. ~ @mollycrabapple
I think MattPatt did an episode about that.
Take it from an American- The people who do this have nothing but hate for you. They pretend to only hate a certain group of you because they can convince you to hate them too, and then they can move onto hating you.
Well fucks? Get to it!
If you aren't aware, today is April 19th. April 19th was when, in 1775, the American minutemen and an early version of the Continental Army fought off the British at the twin battles of Lexington and Concord, beginning the American Revolution and the eventual creation of this great country- This is an especially important anniversary, as exactly 250 years have passed since the shot heard round the world. To honor this event, the 50501 movement has chosen this day to launch another series of protests across the nation.
Of course, what might otherwise be a day of celebration is saddened by why these protests are being launched. America is currently led by a regime of men with nothing in their heart but hatred. They have no understanding of America's true nature.
What is America? It's not one race, like Japan, or Spain, or another country defined by their culture- We might like to divide ourselves with the broad strokes of white, black, brown, and a handful of others, but each can be divided further to the point of meaninglessness. Religion? Christianity holds a majority, not a monopoly, and even it has divided against itself into a dozen denominations that have tried to tear one another apart at one point of another. What else is there? Being a "native American"- One whose family is from here, when the only true native Americans are a minority?
No. America is a promise- "All men are created equal". Those five words define this nation, and America is a promise to fulfill them- A promise to defend the rights of every man, woman, and child in our and every country. Our whole history is the history of a march towards the fulfillment of that promise.
We saw our laws were dictated by an island an ocean away, when our economy and land was bled like a pig for an empire, and when it demanded we roll over and let it, what did we say?
"No. We made a promise."
And there was Revolution, and war, and it was terrible, yet great, for it took the rules of our land, and gave them to the people of our land!
We saw men, women and children made to wet the soil with their blood, sweat, and tears so a handful of rich men could grow even more rich, and when we saw these men try to carve off a piece of land so the blackness of their hearts could consume luxuries and lives, what did we say?
"No. We made a promise."
And there was war, and it was terrible, yet great, for it liberated the people of this land and saw them made free!
We saw our own people turned against themselves, our own people with nothing but hate in their hearts for their fellow Americans, our own people kill them for the chance of their birth, and when people wanted us to stand aside and let this injustice be, what did we say?
"No. We made a promise."
And there were marches, and bombings, and protests, and killings, and it was terrible, yet great, for it saw the people of this land made equal!
We saw men and women and children reduced to tools in factories for the sake of a line on a chart-
"No. We made a promise!"
We saw American mothers and daughters made lesser for nothing other than their sex-
"No. We made a promise!"
We saw Americans guilty of no sin but who they could not help but love be beaten and jailed and hated-
"No. We made a promise!"
There have been many mutinies on this march towards the fulfillment of the American promise- Men and women returned to near bondage after the civil war, loopholes and caveats in the laws that recognized American equality, reduction of Americans to what they could produce and give to men that already had everything. Now, we see one more desperate mutiny- Years worth of hatred given a voice that chants lies, that claims to Make America Great Again when it hates America for what it is, when it makes an America out of lies and crushes whatever does not conform to its lie. We see equality denied, we see Americans removed from the positions they spilt tears and sweat and blood to earn themselves, we see inequality moved to other lands with the hope that Americans will let it be. But as it was before, there are now people who resist!
This- The years ahead of us where hatred tries to strangle America for the sake of a lie- Is the single most patriotic experience imaginable. The struggle for the American promise, the march towards its fulfillment has been ingrained in American history since its birth. We have always struggled to see it fulfilled, and while there are many in this land who have made it such a struggle, there are more who knew that struggle was worth it! There always have been, and there still are, for what do the people marching in the streets say? What do the people organizing say? What do the people in the town halls and the voting booths say? What does our country shout from the streets, from the windows, from the rooftops?
"No! We made a promise!"
In fifth grade a boy tried to impress me by swallowing a whole tadpole live and I punched him so hard that he puked and the tadpole was fine.
Reblog if, no matter the size of the role, you would agree to work with the Muppets if offered the chance to do so, no questions asked
THIS WAS ON A FRIEND’S PAGE: An anguished question from a Trump supporter: ‘Why do liberals think Trump supporters are stupid?’
THE SERIOUS ANSWER: Here’s what the majority of anti-Trump voters honestly feel about Trump supporters en masse:
That when you saw a man who had owned a fraudulent University, intent on scamming poor people, you thought "Fine."
That when you saw a man who had made it his business practice to stiff his creditors, you said, "Okay."
That when you heard him proudly brag about his own history of sexual abuse, you said, "No problem."
That when he made up stories about seeing Muslim-Americans in the thousands cheering the destruction of the World Trade Center, you said, "Not an issue."
That when you saw him brag that he could shoot a man on Fifth Avenue and you wouldn't care, you exclaimed, "He sure knows me."
That when you heard him relating a story of an elderly guest of his country club, an 80-year old man, who fell off a stage and hit his head, to Trump replied: “‘Oh my God, that’s disgusting,’ and I turned away. I couldn’t—you know, he was right in front of me, and I turned away. I didn’t want to touch him. He was bleeding all over the place. And I felt terrible, because it was a beautiful white marble floor, and now it had changed color. Became very red.” You said, "That's cool!"
That when you saw him mock the disabled, you thought it was the funniest thing you ever saw.
That when you heard him brag that he doesn't read books, you said, "Well, who has time?"
That when the Central Park Five were compensated as innocent men convicted of a crime they didn't commit, and he angrily said that they should still be in prison, you said, "That makes sense."
That when you heard him tell his supporters to beat up protesters and that he would hire attorneys, you thought, "Yes!"
That when you heard him tell one rally to confiscate a man's coat before throwing him out into the freezing cold, you said, "What a great guy!"
That you have watched the parade of neo-Nazis and white supremacists with whom he curries favor, while refusing to condemn outright Nazis, and you have said, "Thumbs up!"
That you hear him unable to talk to foreign dignitaries without insulting their countries and demanding that they praise his electoral win, you said, "That's the way I want my President to be."
That you have watched him remove expertise from all layers of government in favor of people who make money off of eliminating protections in the industries they're supposed to be regulating and you have said, "What a genius!"
That you have heard him continue to profit from his businesses, in part by leveraging his position as President, to the point of overcharging the Secret Service for space in the properties he owns, and you have said, "That's smart!"
That you have heard him say that it was difficult to help Puerto Rico because it was in the middle of water and you have said, "That makes sense."
That you have seen him start fights with every country from Canada to New Zealand while praising Russia and quote, "falling in love" with the dictator of North Korea, and you have said, "That's statesmanship!"
That Trump separated children from their families and put them in cages, managed to lose track of 1500 kids, has opened a tent city incarceration camp in the desert in Texas - he explains that they’re just “animals” - and you say, “Well, OK then.”
That you have witnessed all the thousand and one other manifestations of corruption and low moral character and outright animalistic rudeness and contempt for you, the working American voter, and you still show up grinning and wearing your MAGA hats and threatening to beat up anybody who says otherwise.
What you don't get, Trump supporters, is that our succumbing to frustration and shaking our heads, thinking of you as stupid, may very well be wrong and unhelpful, but it's also...hear me...charitable.
Because if you're NOT stupid, we must turn to other explanations, and most of them are less flattering.
- Adam-Troy Castro
(To all who agree with its content, I ask that you PLEASE SHARE IT on your own post, and ENCOURAGE OTHERS to do the same.)
people are always like "Oh a vampire wouldn't get horny while drinking someone's blood, that's like getting horny while eating a sandwich" and like man have you never had a really good fucking sandwich?
IT'S THE THREE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF LIONHEART
When I first started writing this fic, I never knew I might still be writing it years later or that it might have grown into what it is and what it will be. Thank you to those of you who have been here since the beginning and those who are newer!
I was hoping to post a chapter as a little celebration but unfortunately it isn't ready yet.
However! I still want to have something as a little treat!
It's Baby Demon Tanjiro! I drew this in May of 2022 and unfortunately I cannot find the original. I think I doodled this in my SAT study book and then tossed it before I tore out my various doodles in it ;-; RIP to all the doodles I did that I didn't save because I thought they were bad yOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER BY NOW BOOKIE!!
I'm (very inconsistently and slowly) trying to get into drawing so I can draw my little blorbos. I won't post any without prompting though because I don't have any confidence in my drawing capabilities.
under the cut is a meme that I've had in my brain for years and on my computer for months but never found a good time to post it:
See also, "We're in a drought; conserve water!" Meanwhile, bottled water companies and golf courses for rich folk empty the aquifers.
See also, "We're in a drought; conserve water!" Meanwhile, bottled water companies and golf courses for rich folk empty the aquifers.
It's unclear if you're referring to Hohenheim or Kimblee as a "dapper scumbag", whihc is deeply amusing.
Last set of FMAB portraits!! Foreigners, a teacher, and a dapper scumbag that I didn’t feel like drawing until now
Idgaf if you don't want to write essays for school. I don't care if you don't want to write corporate emails yourself. I don't care if you can't draw well, I don't care if you can't write well, I don't care if you just really really want to talk to your favorite fictional character but don't want to RP with a real person because you have social anxiety or whatever
If you're still regularly using generative ai, chatgpt or midjourney or character.ai or literally whatever the fuck, im personally blaming you when my utility prices start going up.
Even Republicans are getting tired of Trump’s bullshit. Whether you’re marching, writing to your representative, or just dissenting, keep at it- It works!
The Green Dragon, 4/1/25
Once upon a time, the Green Dragon was a tavern where the Sons of Liberty, some of the first American patriots, met to discuss their movement. Now, it's just a blog that the people reading can use to inform themselves on issues in America and to involve themselves in said issues- either through donations to charities or direct involvement in groups and movements.
