#It's now everyone's problem

[lisenberry]

I went to a fall festival a few weekends ago, and there was a midway with carnival games. One of them was a shooting game with an airsoft style automatic rifle and you have to shoot out the entire star on the target to get a prize.

It's horribly rigged of course. The gun doesn't shoot remotely straight, and the paper is too thick to shoot through with the number of rounds given.

All I can think of is cute carnival barker reader taunting Ghost that it's easy. Big strong man like him should have no problem. He looks like he knows his way around a firearm.

He pays his ten bucks and gives it a try. A valiant effort once he figures out the skewed trajectory, but when you pull in the target to check his work, there's just a sliver of red left in the corners.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, handsome. Just missed. Want to give it another go?" you ask cheekily. You've been working the same stall all week and no one has won yet. It's basically impossible. You heard a rumor that someone had won a few years ago, but like everything else about your job, it was all a part of the con.

You've made a killing off all the open carry patriots looking to impress their friends and their dates. If you knew anything, this biker guy in the skull printed neck gaiter wasn't going to give up until he was out of cash.

"What do I get if I win?" he asks lazily, but with a lurid challenge in his deep brown eyes. And a cocky timbre to his voice, in an accent not from anywhere you've ever been.

"Anything you see. I got the best prizes here." It's true. Other stalls have stuffed animals and fidget spinners. Yours has a playstation, a motorized bike, iphones.

"I'll hold you to it," he answers as he pulls another ten from his battered leather wallet. You swear there's a crackle of something electric as your hands graze in the transfer.

Another spark of awareness, akin to a rabbit trapped in a snare, when he lays a staying hold on your arm as you load a gun for him.

"Ah-ah, love. Same one." From the crinkle of his eyes, you think he might be smiling as he catches your slight of hand.

"Oh, right, my mistake," you drawl innocently and switch to the one he already used.

He may have a slightly better chance of winning with the rifle he practiced on, but you aren't worried. You figure you can get him for at least three more tries before he slinks off in defeat.

"Check it." He puts down the gun before he's even spent all of the allotted rounds. So fast, in fact, that you wonder if you lost track of time somehow studying his concentration.

The bulk of his shoulders and the taper of his waist in those tight jeans.

"You still have rounds left, don't you?" you laugh to cut the tension as his gaze bores holes into you eerily.

"Don't need 'em."

"Suit yourself," you shrug as you pull the rope to bring in the target.

There has to be some mistake. You examine the card front and back. No red lines of the star remain. A perfect cluster.

"Now about that prize..."

[chloesimaginationthings]

William Afton winning that “idgaf” award in FNAF

[eggdrawsthings]

Does it ever drive you crazy Just how fast the night changes?

[thetragicallynerdy]

POLL TIME

When eating a grilled cheese sandwich, do you dip it in ketchup? It's the norm where I live, but the besties are giving me raised eyebrow emoji faces about it

[cantarelaria]

head disciple shen yuan and his two little shidis who for some reason keep sneaking into the beast tamer peak ⛰️🐉

[cheesy-cheddar-sadness]

text could never portray the scream i wish i could let out

[teaboot]

Sometimes at work it's not my place to tell people the things I want to say, and I find I often go home at the end of the rougher days to stand blankly in my shower and tell myself over and over what I wish I could pass on.

This accomplishes very little, and mostly just gives me a tension headache, but through it all I think I've narrowed myself down to a few solid things I'd like to tell people the most.

You can't change people. Not permanently, not for anythig. You can support them, encourage them, love them, give them tools and opportunities and resources, but you can't make them change. They can change themselves if they want to, but they have to want to, and they have to want it for themselves, because they're the only one that's certain to be with them forever.

For better or worse, you make your own choices, and blaming bad choices on others doesn't only work to absolve you of responsibility- it also robs you of control. Because if you say you only did something because I did something, then you arent only shifting blame- you're admitting that you cannot control yourself, that you cannot truly make choices for yourself, that other people can control you- and as long as you truly beleive that, you'll keep facing the same problems over and over. You'll keep letting others dictate your choices, because you'll beleive that they can, and you'll never be free.

White knights on horseback are from fairytales. Nobody can help you if ou're not willing to help yourself. To try, to put the dirty work in, to belive you're worth that effort- Act as though nobody is coming to save you. From a struggle, from pain, from bad relationships, from yourself. And when you do save yourself, because you will, because failure here isn't an option if you want to survive, you'll never find another dragon that can keep you prisoner.

Don't say anything to anyone that you wouldn't want them remembering forever.

Doing the right thing in bad circumstances is hard. It's the hardest thing. But if you make the choice to do that hard thing anyways, despite your fear, you'll go on the rest of your like knowing that you're the sort of person who did something.

The present only seems the hardest because the past I over and the future hasn't happened.

There's so much joy ahead of you, the kind you can't possibly understand until you see it yourself.

The responsibility of consequences is often disguised as the power of permission. "I won't do this if you help me", "I'll work on my anger if you do this for me", "I promised you I'd quit, but can I have just one?". The unspoken question is, "Can it be your fault if this goes badly?"

You cant make someone love you the way you need to be loved. Someone can love you very much and still be bad for you, even if you love them very much in return. Two people can love each other very, very much, and try their very best, and still be wrong for each other.

Sometimes being near to someone changes you, even in good ways, and the people you become don't fit together as well as the people you were.

Caring takes work. Even if it's real. Especially if it's real. And the most important gestures aren't the grand, poetic, songs-and-flowers-and-tears moments; they're getting out of bed even though you don't want to. Paying attention to things you don't enjoy. Scrubbing pans, or opening a window, saying "thank-you", or helping carry groceries into the house. The small things fill the big things- without the small, boring, mediocre things, big things feel hollow.

Thrre is honour and dignity in humble work.

If you are a cruel and spiteful person, then you will find every place you visit to be full of the same cruel, spiteful people. This is not because the world is as cruel as you, but because everywhere you are, you will be disliked. This is the curse that comes with being persistently cruel and spiteful.

If you are a kind and ppsitive person, you will repeatedly encounter kind and positive people, because as they grow familiar with you, they will be happier to have you near. This is the reward of being a kind and positive person.

When splitting paths with loved ones, briefly or forever, aim for your last words to always be "I love you".

[irenespring]

Today I would like to shout out that one random Twitter person who made up that JD Vance bragged about fucking a couch.

Imagine making a random shitpost and less than two months later your joke is being used by a major party nominee for Vice President on live television at his introduction rally, earning him thunderous applause.

That poster must be having quite the experience.

[lilacgaby]

title: gala gone wrong?

pairing: prohero!bakugo x prohero!reader

katsuki was suddenly forced to confront his feelings for you, when you were put in the date auction for charity.

the heroes gala was something katsuki wouldn't look forward to normally. but this year he had a plan. he was going to ask you to be his date.

...originally. he chickened out last minute and owed kirishima 1000 dollars.

he was surprised to see you come alone though, opting to sit next to him which made him fist pump internally. you were a very successful hero who also doubled as a model. for what reason you ask?

none really, you just did it cause days off of hero work were boring. walking runways, topping charts, and beating villains with style was just another day for you.

you looked especially gorgeous this evening though, working with another up and coming designer to design a dress that perfectly complimented everything from your skin color, to you hair, to even references of your quirk.

katsuki suddenly felt underdressed in his suit, but to be fair every hero who was a man was dressed in a suit. except for monoma.

the auction portion of the gala started before the awards were to be given out.

the awards were pretty pointless in katsuki's mind. the only ones that mattered to him were the final rankings of popularity, efficiency, and the overall category.

"you nervous?" you whispered, talking over the first few lower ranked hero's to be auctioned for a date.

"nah, i know i won at least in popularity." he said, trying to keep eye contact with you without stuttering.

"hmm. what if i won? huh?"

"shut up."

she put a hand over her mouth, when suddenly-

"and the last date to be auctioned, a night with the top ranked woman hero [name]!"

"huh? oh that's me!" you said, collecting your dress as you walked to the stage, leaving katsuki blinking in confusion to himself.

you were in this? i mean it shouldn't have been a surprise, you had a rabidly loyal fan base, even since U-A. but what was he supposed to do? bid?

"the bid starts at.. 15,000 dollars." you rolled your eyes and gestured for people to go higher, and they did.

"17,000!"

"20,000!"

"30,000"

numbers were being shouted from all around the room, with the highest bids barely even being able to be tracked. the bids ranged from new heroes who definetly could not afford you, to old men who you really wish couldn't afford you.

you covered your mouth as you let a laugh escape you, this was hilarious to you, you'd have to do this more often.

after a bunch of back and forth, one booming voice cut all the others off.

"500,000 dollars. cash." to your surprise it wasn't an old creep. grand, also known as shindo yo, had suddenly bid. just as they were about to call off the auction and announce shindo the winner,

katsuki's internal dialogue won and 'forced' him to bid too. "750,000 dollars." he declared.

he doesn't think he'd have done it had it been any other idiot who wanted a chance with you, but that loser had to go.

"sold! to dynamite! we've broken a record here folks, 750,000 for the charity of --"

the words faded into the background as he looked up at you, smiling and walking over to him. he felt is heart speed up, his hands drown in sweat, his hair puff out.

"if you wanted to take me out you could've just asked katsuki." you joked, taking him by the hand as you pulled him back to the table towards the back you two were settled in on.

"whatever, now we have an excuse to."

"don't tell me you like me or something katsuki? how embarrassing."

"i told you shut it."

she laughed and settled down, poking him on the cheek. "its okay if you do, i like you quite a lot dynamite."

he flushed red at that, tiny explosions being let out from his hands inadvertently because of how caught off guard he was.

she held his hand under the table, before looking straight ahead to the ceremonies going on in front of them. he smiled and leaned back.

the awards were pretty boring when compared to the view of you, so until they had gotten to the cool stuff he just eyed you.. daydreaming about the life you'll have together someday.

he focused again when the top three heroes in popularity, efficiency, and overall were to be announced by all might.

at the end of the night, not only did he leave with a number one trophy with 'popular vote!' embedded in its side and an all-might signature at the bottom,

he also left with a lipstick mark from you right on his cheek, some flowers, and a small note that read 'see you tomorrow :)'.

[nailgunstigmata]

haunted by a vision

[asterdeer]

i know the original poem is over 100 years old and loreena mckennitt's rendition is nearly 30 but i don't think i'll ever get over "the highwayman", it gets better every time i listen to it. just the parallelism of the way he and she strain to reach for each other -- he for her hand, she for the trigger -- and the descriptions of their faces -- "his face burned like a brand" when she lets down her hair, "her face was like a light" when she hears him on the highway (and then, rule of three, "his face grew grey to hear" when he finds out that she's dead). it's unbeatable romance for me, this is my "the gift of the magi," this is my orpheus and eurydice

and the way both characters are framed...........it's named for him but she's the closest we get to a hero. we see and feel from her perspective, she's attacked and abused and she keeps her composure, she bloodies her hands to either free herself or free him, she wields the weapon, she is the one who gets a win over the redcoats. she's noble, she's strong, she's faithful, and, you know, she's in love with a highwayman. meanwhile, he does not keep his composure, he goes wild with grief and rage, his emotions overpower him -- and when he dies, it's not heroic, it's an anticlimax, it's undignified and abrupt and almost shameful. but they're both so HUMAN, it's not a lovely innocent woman wearing white waiting, faintingly, for him by the window, and he's not a strong brave hero who sweeps her away to safety. the romance is in the fact that they are not Romantic. the romance IS her bloody hands and her undone hair and his shriek of grief and his death like a dog in the highway. does any of this make sense, am i coming thru. orpheus and eurydice want what they have

[zu-is-here]

<– • –>

[digital-affections]

todays thought

your f/o laughing really hard at something and the sight filling your heart so much because they look and sound so damn cute you just Have to kiss them.. feeling their smile against your lips as theyre still chuckling through the kiss, probably even more that youre kissing them

[marthajonesurastar]

This week in "Why is Good Omens trending this time?!" the answer is actually clear for once: the BAFTAs

What will it be next week? We don't know, stay tuned.

[eff-plays]

You can wizardsplain at a bard, but watch out