#SOBBING 😭😭😭😭😭💖💖💖💖💖💖

[k-yurieee]

This fic had me giggling so much, I've just read the prologue and Chapter 1, and it's been a really fun read so far!! Once again, poor Ralph needs to be protected AT! ALL! COSTS!! 🥺💞💞 Can't wait to read more of this 🫶💗💗

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

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Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: Aaaaaand THIS is where the real good stuff starts! Sorry for all the other posts, just had to start getting the ball rolling. I am aware that since this is taking place in modern London, there may well be slang used that people don't necessarily recognise. If you'd like me to make a glossary of some kind, hit me up!! I hope you enjoy Ralph In The Future as much as I do <3

"Bet it feels strange being behind here again, doesn't it?" the customer asks you. It's an older woman, you don't particularly recognise her, but she certainly seems to know you well enough to know you've been promoted since you first started working here.

You force a smile, "Not really! Sometimes the floor just needs an extra pair of hands, and it helps me know what's working and what isn't for my staff and my customers, so," you shrug.

"Yeah, I don't envy you, still working at a time when nobody wants to work," she shakes her head.

You press your lips together tightly. There are so many arguments you could make right now, but already trying to juggle two roles is taxing enough. Instead you simply tell the woman her total and ring her through. Once again adorning your best customer service smile, you thank her for her custom and send her on her way.

"D'you think she's ever worked a customer service job in her life?" Your shop floor assistant asks as they re-fold their display shirts.

You shake your head, "I think… Cushty little secretary job at her dad's business, at first. Never had to pay rent, got married to the first guy at that job to pay her attention, got a council house nice and early and spawned a couple of kids just to stop him from walking."

They let out a wide-eyed, long-drawn breath, "Daaamn, someone woke up on the salty side of the bed this morning!"

You chuckle humourlessly, "That doesn't even make sense. And yeah, sorry, it just… Really sucks that I've got major shit to do this week, but I can't just let you do all the work out here on your own, not with Karens like that around."

"Can't you get your friend to come down and cover? Or to do your manager shit on their next shift?" 

"Nah, it's gotta be me. And they can't come in today because of their other job, so I'm gonna do it as overtime," you explain dejectedly.

"You're doing great, champ!" they sidle up to you to gently punch you in the shoulder encouragingly.

"Hey now, kiddo, I'm the manager here, I need to be motivating you!"

"Nah, you're sales right now. You're just as good as the rest of us common muck," they tease, and you stick your tongue out at them.

The day drags, and the quality of customers certainly doesn’t improve. A man who thinks he can return an item without a receipt. A woman who insists on ordering an item that’s no longer available because she saw a friend wearing it just last week. Children. 

And sure, maybe now, at 5:40pm, the customer of your dreams could walk in through the front door. But you and your coworker are exhausted, and this is the kind of shit you always wanted to become a manager to do. Taking one last look up and down the almost empty high street, save for the ones who are heading to the Wetherspoons on the corner, you decide to start the closing process early.

You manage to finish a little after 6pm, and you consider just getting all of your admin stuff done while you’re here, but also, you really can’t stand the sight of these four walls much longer. You figure you’ll just go to the coffee shop nearby, get yourself an iced latte for the walk home and think about what kind of takeaway you’ll be craving once you get back to your flat. No cooking. Not tonight.

You’re well into a mental debate about whether you’d rather have a chow mein or a biryani when something else piques your interest. There’s a man in front of you in some kind of costume. It’s either really old-school military, or… Safari explorer. Maybe he’s one of those live re-enactors. Maybe he works at the zoo. Maybe he’s just one of those quirked-up little guys. You get your phone out to text your friends, ready to ask them if they’ve seen anyone dressed similarly before, but as you continue walking you collide with something.

Someone. Your flimsy plastic cup gets crushed immediately upon the impact, pouring ice cold coffee down the strangely-dressed man’s back. Your first instinct is to shout, “Watch it!”

The man jumps out of his skin, either at your words or the ice cubes soaking his back. He spins around to look at you like a deer in headlights. Eyes like giant chocolate buttons stare you down. If he’s supposed to be dressed as an Army boy, he does not have the face to convince me, you think. Unless the message they’re sending is that literally anyone could get drafted.

“You alright?” you ask, eyes narrowing and head cocking as you study him.

“Ah - um - oh, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! This was absolutely my fault, I’m just - I’m so lost, and I was trying to find a man and now he’s gone and - oh, blast, stupid Ralph, you’ve really gone and done it now!” the man flusters, looking in every direction except at you.

You whistle and click your fingers at his eye level. “Hey, Bambi! Focus. It’s okay.”

He moves his head back to scrunch his face at you in confusion. “Bambi?”

You smirk, “Yeah, you’re like a baby deer right now. You said you’re lost? Where’re you trying to get to?”

“Uh, well, I suppose I should try and find my home, um… Penbury House?” he asks tentatively.

You kiss your teeth a few times as you think of where you’ve heard that name before. “Oh!” You look at him, puzzled. “You sure that’s your house?”

“Well, my name is Ralph Penbury, so…” he wiggles his shoulders from side to side before shrugging. You appreciate the extra flair.

“Right, but Penbury House is the name of the place they turned into a Waterstone’s,” you explain. He looks lost again, so you explain, “Waterstone’s is a bookstore.”

Ralph scoffs, “Oh, pish-posh, my home has not become a bookstore! That would be quite preposterous!”

So far your entire interaction with this strange man has been a tennis match of bewilderment, just exchanging expressions back and forth. “Are you, like… On something, mate? Do you need me to get you somewhere safe?”

“I want to go home, please! And not a… Bookstore, my real, actual home!” He’s starting to sound quite overwhelmed now, so you take a step back.

“Okay, okay. It’s okay. We can calm down. You mentioned looking for a man? Do you know this man?”

“Well, not personally, but I travelled here with him. About yea tall,” he holds his hand just in line with his eyebrows, “very old. Silent man. Hair just past his ears. Looks, um. Unwashed.”

Your eyebrows raise in realisation. “Ah, Homeless Pete!” Makes sense that Pete and his crew would be involved somehow. “Shall we go and find him?”

“Do you know where he is?!” Ralph asks, his expression lighting up. He may be dressed like an absolute twat, but you can’t deny his adorable little puppy-dog face.

“I know where he hangs out, we can go see if he’s there?” you ask, and Ralph nods. “C’mon,” you jerk your head in the direction towards where you know Homeless Pete tends to hang out when he’s not walking the streets. You wonder what ol’ H.P. (as your friends call him) could have given his poor boy to make him trip like this. “So, uh, quick question. Sorry, I completely forgot. What’s the full date today?”

“Well, the last I checked, it was September the 7th, 1926,” he replies simply. You stop in your tracks, and he looks back at you with a frown. “What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing, nothing,” you shake your head and carry on walking. This poor boy must be on something pretty damn strong. “Let’s get you to H.P, yeah?” Just to find out what he’s taken. Then it’s straight to the hospital.

Ralph inhales so loudly that a guttural sound forms in his throat. “Oh my goodness! Do you think - am I in - the future?” He grips your arm tightly. “Was the lift a time machine, perhaps?”

“Maybe,” you tap his hand lightly with your own as you keep walking with him, "considering that it's September the 7th, 2022." Normally, you would be throwing any stranger that hugged your arm like Ralph now is to the ground, but there’s just something about him. Either he plays the innocent human puppy role far better than any indie boy that’s ever tried to hit on you on a night out, or he really is just going through it.

You eventually reach the underpass where a large part of the local homeless population gather, and sure enough, there is Pete himself, sat between two shopping trolleys. He spots the two of you and immediately bursts into laughter. “What the fuck, H.P?!” you yell. “You’re usually chill, what have you done to this poor boy?!”

“‘M not a boy, I’m a grown man, thank you,” Ralph mutters into your shoulder.

“‘Course you are, babe,” you murmur sarcastically as you nod at him, before once again turning to Pete. “Well?! You’ve got him talking about - about time machines, and the 1920s, I mean, just look at how the poor sod’s dressed!” Pete’s eyes widen as he waggles his finger at you, as though you’re both in a game of charades and you’re on the right track. You turn to one of the people Pete lives amongst, “What’s he been on today?”

The other person shakes their head. “Nothing, swear down! Besides, he’s a proper tight-arse, he wouldn’t go ‘round drugging any fucker going. ‘Specially not a toff like that,” they snort with laughter as they point to Ralph.

You look back to Homeless Pete. “So, you’re telling me. Time travel is fucking real.” Pete nods. “And you were in 1926, and you dragged this sad sack of shit out here with you, with no context.”

“You know I can hear you,” Ralph points out indignantly, but still quietly and still from the safety of behind your shoulder. His arms are still wrapped around yours, too.

“Yeah, but look at you, mate. You’re not exactly getting us answers as to how to get you back to… Wherever we get you back to,” you explain before once again turning to Pete. “Where is this… Time machine? Ralph said something about a lift.” Pete snarls as he gestures over to a block of flats you vaguely recognise. “So we go there, get him back in the lift, and then what? Is there a button, or a combination, or -?” Pete moves his hand from side to side. “And what does that mean, is it a random button each time?” Again, it feels like you’re in a game of charades as he silently tells you you’re on the right track. “Is the random part right?” Nod. “So, it’s not about the button, but… The floor you get on?” A shake of the head. “Is it just at random times?” Nod. “So, how do you know when to go back to it?” He shrugs, then points to his temple. “What, you get some kind of vibe, some Spidey sense?” He nods with an upside down smile. You sigh. “So we don’t know when Ralph here can get back.” A shake of the head.

“Do I have to stay here with him, then?” Ralph asks you sadly.

You sigh again. “No, c’mon. I guess you won’t want Chinese or Indian, we’ll just get a chippy dinner on the way home.” You start walking in the other direction, and Ralph quickly paces to catch up with you.

“A chippy dinner?” he asks, baffled.

“Yeah! Like fish and chips? They had that in the 20s, surely?” you reply.

“Well, yes, I suppose, but we only ever had it at the seaside,” he cocks his head as though reminiscing fondly. It only accentuates the cuteness of his whole face.

“Think you can be a big boy again now, or do you still wanna hold on?” you ask, outstretching your arm. He doesn’t appear to blush in the conventional sense, but his ears do flush a bright pink. Even more adorable. Fuck. Remember, he’s technically like a hundred years older than you. He slinks one arm around yours and you pull him in tightly by pressing your own arms towards your torso. “There we go. Now I can make sure I’m guiding you so that hopefully you don’t get bumped into anymore.”

“I think I’ve certainly learned my lesson in not standing still in front of people!” Ralph jokes, making you genuinely laugh for the first time all day. It feels strange, you can feel every muscle in your face move with it. But you also feel the weight on your chest lifting, too. You’d been at boiling point all day at work, and discovering a time-traveller wasn’t exactly helping you to simmer down. But you can make this work. He’s just an… Eccentric, extremely sheltered family friend who’s staying with you for a short while. That’s what you’ll tell anyone who asks.

“Yeah, you’ve learned that if you do, some dickhead’ll throw their iced coffee all over your back!” you laugh.

Ralph frowns, “You’re not a - a one of those, at all! You’re very nice to take me in like this. Most people seemed to think I belonged in a jungle.”

“Yeah, the old school military uniform kinda looks more… Safari explorer, these days,” you explain.

Ralph’s eyes light up. “Someone finally recognises the Army uniform for what it is!”

“Yeah, I thought I recognised it from when we went to the War Museum for school once. That was the kind of get-up they used to wear in the First World War.” You trip over your own feet a little as Ralph once again halts to anchor you to him, despite what he’s just said. He looks… Distraught. “Alright, mate?”

“Why did you say… First World War?" He asks with fear in his voice. "We won the Great War to restore the - the balance of power, how long did that last?!” He looks at you, dumbfounded.

You hiss air through your teeth. “Oh, boy. Yeah, there’s a lot that’s happened in the last century. I don’t know if it’s such a good idea telling you all of it, since once you get back, it’ll be your future, so…” You contemplate. “We’ll just keep all the questions you have to stuff you’ll need to get by in the here and now, alright? Anything you learn about history, just try and let it go over your head,” you pull him forwards gently and he falls back into step with you.

“One question I have about the here and now,” Ralph starts, and you look over at him. He makes eye contact with you to ask, “What exactly is your name?”

Laughing again, you tell him. “Sorry, I really should have led with that, shouldn’t I! It’s been a long day."

“I’ll say. About a hundred-odd years long!” A giggle bubbles out from Ralph’s lips and it makes you snicker, too.

“You’re a funny one, Penbury. For an old sod, at least,” you push your shoulder into his before leading him into the chip shop. “So, are you a fish guy, sausage, fishcake, pie?”

Ralph looks at all the options in the serving counter with an upturned nose. “What’s that one?” he asks, pressing his finger against the glass.

You look over and answer, “Battered sausage. Sausage, but in the batter they cook the fish in. Bloody lovely,” you smile wistfully. 

“I might just stick to the classic cod and chips, thank you,” Ralph mutters under his breath as he stares around the small room in fascination. You order on behalf of the pair of you and take the bag from the server with a grateful smile. Ralph notices and plasters one on as well, though his definitely comes off as more fake. He basically attaches himself to your arm again the second you’re out of the door, as though you’re bound together magnetically, and you guide him to the tower block that contains your pokey little flat.

After spending several minutes convincing Ralph that the lift isn’t going to suck him into another time period, and that he’s more than welcome to traipse up all the stairs that lead to the ninth floor, he relents and stands in the lift with you, though he stands so close that you’d think his goal was for you to wear him. Brushing against his chest feels nice, though. Shut up, you’re just touch-starved. This is not your ticket out of your dry spell. This is a fever dream.

Once you’re in your flat, you quickly dig out whatever men's clothes you have laying around - some sweatpants and a white T-shirt, and you throw them at him. "Just to get out of your dirty clothes while I plate up, eat before this gets cold, then you can go shower. I'm sure there's some boxers in my pyjama drawer you could use, too, I'll find those for you in a bit." You point to your bathroom and he quietly complies.

You could've just eaten the meals straight from their wrapper, the way you always do. But you figured Ralph has had enough culture shocks as it is, you'll give him the decency of eating from a plate. Besides, spending your night with a man dressed in 1920s army gear who's eating fish and chips out of some paper on his lap might just be enough of a sight to tell you to get yourself checked into the psych ward at the earliest convenience. At least you can try and create some kind of normalcy in this moment.

A quick Google search tells you television wasn't around in 1926, so you don't want to expose him to that tonight, too. Give it a day, maybe. You could play some old-time-y music on your Echo but you're not sure what he'd want to listen to. Instead, once you're both sat on the sofa together, you make conversation with him about his past as you eat. He tells you about how the Penburys were known socialites, how he and his sister had pretty much the same group of friends, how they had recently found friends in a rather special group of people, one of which he'd fallen head over heels for, just for her to reject him, and his heartbreak caused him to join the Army, which he hated.

"It's rather funny, you know," Ralph adds. "People here talk very similarly to Lauren and the others. I wonder if they exist in this time, too."

You start piecing things together. "Lauren… Plays jazz… She the drummer in this little quartet?" Ralph nods, his eyes wide. "Kinda short, has a brother called Nick?"

"Nicholas, yes! He's tall and he wears thick glasses! You know them?!" Ralph asks excitedly.

"Yeah, Nick was in my class all through high school! Always used to fancy him," you reminisce happily before stifling a laugh. "Wait, wait. So you mean to tell me that this Lauren you're besotted with is - is Little Lauren? Oh, you poor, sweet boy."

He looks offended. "Why would you think that that’s such a bad thing?!"

"Mate, I've known you five minutes and even I know Lauren would chew you up and spit you out," you look at him sympathetically. "And you're not gonna be able to change her on that. Unless you're into all that kinda stuff," your nose turns up a little as you joke, just to get a reaction from him.

Sure enough, there go the illusive colour-changing ears. He sputters, "W- I - I don’- I’m no- That is no appropriate discussion topic over dinner!” and you collapse into a fit of giggles, falling into him a little.

“Oh, lighten up, Ralph. Things are far less proper round here, that was nothing,” you explain, to his horror.

Once you’re both finished eating, you grab a clean pair of boxers from your pyjama drawer and toss them into the bathroom, gesturing to Ralph with your head that that’s where he ought to go. “Sorry you’re gonna have to use your finger as a toothbrush tonight, I’ve not got any extras of those, but -”

“Oh, all of this is already above and beyond! Even taking me in, I - I hope you understand how truly grateful I am, and with your patience acclimating me to… All this,” Ralph gestures around with his hands.

You nod with a soft smile. “Uh, give the shower a few minutes to run, though. Goes from freezing to scalding and then you’ve just sort of gotta… Keep fiddling with it. You’ll figure it out, I’m sure.”

The various screeches you hear from behind the closed door suggest that he is not as successful in figuring out the shower as you’d hoped. While he showers, you do a little more digging. Thankful that your mum’s weird obsession with your family tree may finally come in handy, you ask for the login to her online ancestry account. Tapping through to the census search, you type the name ralph penbury and set the dates between around 1890 and 1930 to look for any documentations of birth - or death. Sure enough, an entry pops up: 

Ralph Penbury - Date of birth: 01/02/1901 - Parents: William and Delilah Penbury - Occupation: Private in the Armed Forces - Death: Announced 19/09/1926 - MIA, presumed dead

You frown at the result. Was Ralph always doomed to go missing in action, you wonder? Is he only presumed as such because he’s travelled through time? His existence hasn’t been completely erased by the trip, obviously, but how much of this was affected by it? It hurts your head to try and think about. But at least you know when his birthday is. It’s still a few months away by all accounts, you may not even get to celebrate it with him. You still make a note of it in your phone.

Ralph soon emerges from the bathroom, and the sight causes your breath to catch in the back of your throat. He already had a certain cuteness about him, but as he rubs his hair dry with the towel, his damp natural curls stick out in all directions. Some facial hair and a neck chain or two, and he’d be exactly the kind of guy you’d let break your heart in a smoking area. He studies your face carefully as you’re staring at him. “Is there something wrong?”

“No!” you snap yourself out of your trance quickly. “No, not at all. Um, you can - you can take the bed. If you want. Get a good night’s sleep.”

Ralph gasps in horror, “I could never! I am simply a guest, I must insis-”

“And I must insist that you’ve literally travelled almost a hundred years to be here. Who knows when you’re gonna be here until, so… I don’t mind. I can sleep on the sofa for now, I promise,” you smile. “Just let me get in there real quick to get changed myself too, yeah?” Despite still standing in the bathroom doorway, and therefore not in the way of your bedroom, Ralph still steps aside and gestures towards it for you.

You change into a tank top and trousers combo, grab a blanket and some cushions out from your wardrobe, and head back into the living area. “Are you decent?” Ralph asks, his eyes squeezed.

You laugh, “Down, boy, I wasn’t exactly going to come out in my birthday suit, was I?! Yes, I am, you can look.”

He opens his eyes, takes one look at you, and yelps before covering his face with his hands. “You said you were decent!”

You look down at yourself, confused. Sure, the top is well-fitting, but you don’t think it’s indecent at all. You walk over to him and pull his wrists down. His eyes are once again shut tightly. “Ralph. It’s okay. I promise. Again, this is absolutely fine and modest in these times. Unless you want to stick out like a sore thumb, you’ll have to get used to it,” you shrug, letting go of him. He opens his eyes slowly and his breath shudders as he quickly jolts away.

“Okay, very well. I’ll try my hardest,” he nods, though he seems to be making the effort to keep his jaw up to maintain a high eyeline. “Are you sure you’ll be okay sleeping out here?”

You sigh, repeating once again, “Yes, Ralph, I’ll be fine. Go get some rest. You’ve had a big day.”

“Yes, very well. Erm,” he ducks his head down and to the side for a split second, as though to kiss your cheek, before stopping himself and once again raising his head high, his eyes wide and his ears pink. He clears his throat. “Thank you, again. Good night.”

“G’night, mate. Sleep well,” you pat his arm and start setting up the sofa for the night as he enters your bedroom and closes the door behind him.

You stick the TV on, not really caring what’s playing as it only really serves as background noise, and turn your lights off. The glows of the television screen and your phone screen illuminate the room as you search for any other evidence of time travel. Nothing that matched Ralph’s story comes up. You’re somewhere deep into a conspiracy theory about someone with a mobile phone being spotted at a Charlie Chaplin premiere when you finally drift off to sleep.

next chapter

[mandiemegatron]

"... ᴰᴱᴬᵀᴴ ʰᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ,

ᴷⁱˢˢᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏ,

ᴳᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵘʳᵉ;

ᴵᵐᵐᵒʳᵗᵃˡ ᵇʸ ᵈᵉˢⁱᵍⁿ,

ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉʳᵉ,

ᴱᵛᵉʳʸᵗⁱᵐᵉ..."

BIGGEST THANK YOU IN THE ENTIRE WORLD TO MY LOVELY @laidenbreecatchall FOR WHIPPING UP THIS ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS PIECE FOR ME 😭😭😭😭💖💖💖💖💖 no word of a lie, I teared up at work when they sent me the finished piece and I cannot contain the amount of love and respect I hold for you as an artist, but also as a mutual and a dear friend 😭😭😭💖💖💖💖

Thank you SO very much for this beautiful piece , you will absolutely get my money again and I highly recommend Rye to everyone who follows me if you want some gorgeous work done !!!!

THANK YOU SO MUCH RYE 😭😭😭💖💖💖💖

[erabu-san]

Thinking like her master

[starriegalaxy]

trick or treat! the chibis Sunnie and Moonie have come to visit! they can’t eat, but they’d love non-food treats like stickers or toys or stationary!!

AW MY ANGELS FROM ABOVE E E E E E E. E E. E 💥💥💥💓💓💓‼️‼️‼️

YES OF COURSE BOYS, let Auntie give you something in return 😭💖

Ummmmm (rummages through my inedible food-themed items) umm take this towel that's shaped like a cake - a pack of fruit stickers with cute faces on them, uhhh (pauses at something but rethinks it and searches for sth else), a banana and blueberry themed mechanical pencil, some erasers shaped like candies and uh ya, that's what I got so far!

(pats their heads together)

You're as sweet as treats so thank you for visiting, Sunnie & Moonie 🥰

[crystallizsch]

(Not me just realizing I can put pictures in asks now... anyway!) I went on a long trip in your Yuusha tag and you really put so much care into her, it was a lot of fun reading everything - I hope it's okay that I tried to draw her! Looking forward to seeing more of your art :D

HELLO HI HUH IT IS SHEEEE ;;;;; IT'S HER --- IM SO IN LOVE WITH HOW YOU DREW HER HI THANK YOU SO MUCH OMG MY HEART AUGHDJLAESJ IM CRYINGGG

ALSO,,, i cant believe you did that thank you??? 😭😭😭 and honestly that is one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me i have actual TEARS reading it eughfhdjhdjdj (i had to look at it over and over again wondering if i even read it right 😭)

i know i say this a lot but what you said means so much, it made me so happy 😭 thank you so much for liking yuusha and recognizing the care i put into her 🥺💖

[mobius-m-mobius]

OWEN WILSON and TOM HIDDLESTON in LOKI S2

[threecheers-forsweetrevenge]

"Do it yourself. If you want to have it good, do it yourself."

[sugarpasteltmnt]

This fic has consumed my entire brain atp 🤭🤭

⚠️Chapter 21 Spoilers!⚠️

AHHHHHHH

ITS AMAZING THANK YOU WAAAAAAAA 😭😭😭🩵💗💖💓💕💞🩵💗💞‼️

[rayroseu]

I think I realized why I like Silver despite his character trope being what I hate lol No, its not about him being too boring, its about his character centering around "repaying your family"

In Filipino teleseryes iirc, there's always a character trope for the good kid where their entire motives centers around doing work for their family for their entire life, and the story makes that personality "righteous" "admiring" and should be "what all children should do"

I suppose I hated it as a kid because its trying to enforce a standard🤣 like its trying to influence its viewers that this is how you should treat your parents, even if its good behaviour that this character trope is trying to portray,,, they were annoying because it always portrays that "their effort for their parents was perfect"

But Silver's story isn't like that. I can say that the story reinforces that ""his ideal way"" of repaying Lilia often fails because of circumstances he cannot control. His efforts to repay his parent, often fails, and I think that's what makes Silver really relatable.

I think Silver is convinced as well that what will make Lilia proud and would be him performing splendidly as knight and student(?), thats why he always works hard and he gets saddened when his sleeping condition ruins that hard work (Silver Lab Vignette)

But "being perfect", or even a repayment for raising him up, isn't what Lilia wishes for Silver... What would truly make Lilia proud, would be "just Silver living."

Its like Lilia didn't expect anything from Silver,,, in a "just be yourself" way.... I think during Book 7, this is what conflicted Silver the most (other than the whole Knight of Dawn relateion), that his Father would truly love him no matter who he is or what he becomes.

I also love the fact that TWST added the tragedy of aging in Silver's motive of repaying his parent... Because that truly is a harsh reality 😭 if you want to repay your parents, there's always this looming worry that your parent might not make it in time for them to see you succeed and be proud of you because they'll pass away from age...

I think the way their story reminds that "your time together with your family is ephemeral" inspired me more to actually value my time together with people important to me ykk

So Silver's motivation to repay his parent often ""fails""" because what Lilia wants from him is to just live and be yourself, and that's what the story enforces Silver to do as well. 🥹

I haven't read many stories that dwells this topic as emotional as Silver and Lilia's story... 🥲 Usually the parents in teleseryes will expect something like "at least complete your studies so we can be proud of you 🥺" while that is a good expectation,, it kinda gives off the vibes that the parental love was conditional all along XD. Its never as unconditional as Lilia's imo... 🥹🥹🥹💖💖

Its also seen with what skills Lilia teaches Silver revolving around survival, because he wants him to truly live with your own morals ("own two legs" if you will).

Side note: if there was an option for Silver to be raised by Knight of Dawn, I'd still would choose Lilia to raise him because Lilia can teach Silver what Knight of Dawn never did— speaking up for his own morals— even if the king and the nation displeases it— even if he was "alone" about his correct opinion. That belief that Lilia instilled upon him truly will make Silver live honestly to himself yk...🥹🥹🥹💖💖

translation by cymr on yt

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Knock knock~ Hey I saw how you wanted some tickle requests for rise, how bout something like lee!Mikey and ler!Donnie. Maybe Mikey Is being Mikey and Donnie wrecks him with tickles?

~ 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚟𝚜. 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎’𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 ~

💜🐢🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @rice-cake-teen10 💜🐢🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝙹𝚂��𝙳𝚈𝚆𝙹𝚂𝙷 𝙷𝙸 𝙼𝙾𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙴 🫶🏾💖💕✨!!! 𝙸 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 (𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍) 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 🫠💔. 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚈𝚈𝚈 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚋𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗. 𝙸 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 💞˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟷𝟷𝟷

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 (𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢’𝚜) 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝟸𝟺/𝟽! 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚍. 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎��

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!! 𝙾𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚛𝚢𝚑𝚢𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚙𝚑𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚠—)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @saturnzskyzz @savemeafruitjuice @saturnzskyzz

@my-l0v3r-v3rse @titters-and-tingles @cedarrthefluffylee

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐…𝚞𝚑 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 🫠👍🏾

𝚃𝚆: 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐— 𝚢𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚕𝚕𝚕 🤩🫶🏾

*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚃 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃 𝚆𝙾𝙾𝙿 𝚆𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙿!!! 𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝚈 𝚈’𝙰𝙻𝙻!!!˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

“Donnnnniieeeee!” Mikey whined loudly, bursting into his older brother’s room completelyunannounced, basically breaking off the hinges of the door just to get inside. 

The scientist in question fought back the irritated groan that was bubbling in his throat as his brother walked in, continuing to type on his computer as the box turtle inched closer and closer towards him. “Michaeeeelllll.” Donnie replied without looking up from his device, his monotone voice not quitematching the same enthusiasm as his sibling’s when the youngest called his name— but close! 

To an extent, anyway.

“What is it that you require, Michael?” The purple loving turtle asked, “I’m quite busy right now.” 

The youngest turtle bit back a groan, crossing his arms and raising one of his eye ridges disapprovingly, “Busy doing what? All I see is you typing on your computer like you work a nine to five.” 

“Dealing with you is like working a nine to five.”The taller turtle retorted, “But anyways, while you’re here, I would very much appreciate it if you looked over my coding for one of my inventions.” The elder went into a file and as a result, a handful of numbers and signs showed up on the screen. 

The box turtle squinted his eyes as if he was nearsighted; looking closer at the codings to try and decipher what the actual hell his brother was expecting him to look for.

“Yes, yes. I know.” The scientist huffed, “It’s very traumatizing to look at. Trust me…I would know, I made the darn thing.” 

“It looks like your face. That’s traumatizing enough.” The youngest grinned smugly.

“…I don’t even know why I try…” The second oldest grumbled, “Okay, now off with thee. I have work to do.” Donatello said as he lightly pushed the youngest away from him so he could leave him to his work. But Mikey stood his ground firmly, going up to his older brother and sitting on his lap, making sure that he slouched just the right amount so that Donnie couldn’t see the device screen.

The elder sighed at the behavior, trying his best to get his younger brother off of him but every time he at least attempted to, the youngest would just put more of his body weight onto him. “Audible groan…gehet off of meehee!” Donnie whined in defeat as Mikey grinned triumphantly. 

“Nah. Your pretty comfy. It’s like sitting on a sofa.” 

“You’re built like a sofa, you goon! Now get off of me!” Donatello huffed, pushing on his little brother’s shell in one last attempt to get this orange life draining leech away from his precious body. 

“Ihi aham giving you fihive seconds to gehet off.” 

“Ohor whahat? Yohou gonna shohow meehee more coding?” 

Donnie raised an amused brow, resting his hands at the youngest’s sides but not quite moving his fingers yet. The art loving teen squeaked in surprise at the new sensation at his sides, immediately hugging his middles protectively, “D-Dohohon’t!” 

“One…two…”

Donnie held Mikey’s sides with his hands.

“Three…four…”

He rolled his eyes fondly, pinching the younger’s sides softly as he started to tickle him.

“Five.”

The orange banded teen giggled immediately, squirming in his older brother’s lap ever so slightly, “Stahap ihit!” He squeaked, holding onto his brother’s wrists as the softshell couldn’t help but lightly chuckle at the gesture. 

“Do you reallllly want me to stop or are you just saying that?” The elder smirked, “You could’ve gotten out of my lap but you chose not to.” 

The artist loving teen blushed slightly at the question, “Dohonnie weehee ahahare nahat doing thihis right nohow!”

“I’m just asking you a simple question, little brother. I don’t understand the difficulty with you failing to answer it…” The purple banded teen hummed as he dug his hands into the other’s underarms, “Yes or no?”

The art loving turtle screamed, kicking his legs in the air and shaking his head back and forth. “YeHES! Freeheeaking *squeak* stahaHAP!” 

“Oh, so yes? So you do want me to continue tickling you?” Donatello grinned at his choice of wordplay. The youngest’s laughter raised an octave as he squirmed and tried to slip away from his brother’s tickly grasp and fingers. 

The taller turtle quickly typed in his wristwatch, his spider arms coming out of his battle-shell and holding the other’s wrists, pulling his arms away so he couldn’t hug his middles nor squirm away. 

Mikey gulped comically, squirming in his brother’s lap still. “N-NAHA— *squeak* noho! JuhUST NOHOHOH!”

“Ohhhhh. I understand now. So you don’t want me to stop tickling you?” 

“STAHAP TWIHISTING MYHY WOHORDS!” 

“I’m not!” The young genius grinned, “I’m just asking you to clarify!”

The smaller turtle squealed loudly, attempting to pull his wrists free from the spider arms but all his attempts ending in vain as his older brother just continued to tickle him.

“So just clarifying…you want��me to continue tickling you?” 

“DEEHEEHEE!!!”

“What~? I’m just asking if you want me to tickle you. That you perhaps came in here with the intention of getting tickled by yours truly—“

“STAH— *squeal* *squeak* STAHAP STAHAP STAHAP!!!”

Donnie couldn’t help but chuckle at his brother’s frantic giggles, stopping his tickling attack but wiggling his fingers directly above the other turtle’s ribs, causing the younger’s heart to drop in anticipation as he squirmed like he’s never squirmed before. 

The softshell poked the smaller turtle’s ribs teasingly a couple times, “You gonna get off of me now~?”

“IHI CAHA— *squeal* IHI CAHAN’T— *squeak*!!!” The younger teen cried out. Michelangelo was completely lost in his own laughter wonderland, still trying to at least get UP from his older brother’s lap. But with the softshell’s spider arms holding his wrists away from him, it made it even harder. 

And the fact that he was completely laughing his shell off didn’t help either. 

AND the fact that Donnie was making some dumb game out of this wasn’t helping either.

If there was one thing you needed to know about the youngest, it was that Mikey could not take the anticipation. At all.

Like, at. ALL.

And Donnie was just being pure Disney villain evil about it too. Which automatically made absolutely everything ten times worse…

Wait. Hold on a second…

What were even some purple Disney villain’s that Donnie resembled anyway?

Because at the end of the day the second oldest was a villain (no one just has uranium just casually stored in their room…), but Mikey just had to find out which villain. 

The Evil queen? Nah. Too princessy. 

Ursula? Nope. Too sea witchy. 

Maleficent? No. Too emo (even for Donnie). 

Dr. Facilier? …yes actually. 

Donnie and Dr. Facilier don’t have similar goals per se but they definitely do look similar. And they dance the same to. They boogie down like they’re wet noodles just coming out of a boiling pot. 

The box turtle isn’t usually known for throwing people under the bus…but somewhere, somehow, his purple cladded older brother was definitely on the watch list. 

Now…what was Mikey doing?

Oh, yeah! Getting absolutely murdered by his older brother. Fantastic.  

“Someone’s a little ticklish, huh?” The elder commented as the box turtle’s laughter kept ranging from a squeaky door to a door mouse. 

“GYAHAH— *squeak* WAHA— EEEEHEHAHA!!!”

“Don’t worry, take your time.” The scientist giggled back.

“PLEHEASE!! DAHA— *squeak*!!! IHI CAHAN’T MOOHOOHOOVE!”

“So what I’m hearing is that you’re not going to get up from my lap?”

Mikey screeched, hitting his brother’s plastron with his shell and carapace, “IHI PHYSICAHALLY CAHAHANNOT MOOHOOVE YOHOU FUHUCKIN—!!!” 

“I can give you until the count of ten. I’m adding an extra five seconds just because I’m so nice.”

“YOHOU AHARE NOHOWHERE NEAR NIHICE—“

“One…”

“WAHAIT WAHAHAIT!!!”

“Two…”

“DOHOH— *squeal* DEEHEE!”

“Three…”

“SHIHIHIT!!!”

“Four…”

“PLEHEHA— *squeal* MYHY GAHAHASH!”

“Five…”

“JUHUST GEHET OHOHON WIHITH IHIHIT!” 

“Six…”

“DOHOHONNIE!!”

“Seven…”

“I WIHILL KIHILL YOHOU IN YOHOUR SLEEHEEHEEP!”

“I’d like to see you try. Anyways, eight…”

“EEEEEEE!!!”

“Nine…”

“GOHODDAMIHIT!”

“Ten~!”

Mikey braced himself both physically and mentally as Donnie said that dreadful double digit number. He rested the back of his head on his older brother’s shoulder, closing his eyes and pursing his lips to prepare from the attack. 

But as the smaller mutant kept waiting and waiting…the tickles never came. The youngest hesitantly opened one eye as he saw his older brother’s fingers still wiggling right directly over his ribs. 

All the while, the elder just smirked evilly. The box turtle grumbled through his stifled giggles, looking up so he could glare fully at his brother.

Dr. Facilier looking ass…

“Here it comes…” The young genius said with anticipation, “Annnnny moment…”

The box turtle broke eye contact, just shutting his eyes tight as he could do absolutely nothing but wait for his brother to do the inevitable. “You must be absolutely dying knowing it’s coming…” Donnie commented as Mikey just about screamed, not being able to hold the dam that was holding his laughs in any longer.

The softshell smiled at the cackles, tracing his fingers on his younger brother’s stomach, “I’m just sointrigued to find out what would happen if I just..” He trailed off, randomly poking right below the art loving turtle’s ribs. 

The taller mutant just absolutely loved putting his brother’s on anticipatory rollercoaster’s when tickling them (as you can see).

“I could stay here alllllll day…” The elder mused, “My hands are riiiiiight here, Angleo~!”

“Fuhuhuck yohou…” Mikey giggled through gritted teeth, trying not to give his older brother an ounce of laughter whatsoever…but that ship has already sailed and went to a new ocean by now.  

“Oh, wow. Cussing me out now, hm?” The purple banded turtle questioned in disbelief as he landed a couple last pokes to Mikey’s lower ribs,  “NONONOHO NOHOHO! OHOMIGAHAHASH IHI’M SAHAHARRY!!!” The youngest immediately gave in and apologized, his laughs raising a higher octave than a flute ever possibly could as he descended into loud cackles. 

“Really? Your 'sahaharry?'”

“YEHES *squeal* YEHEHEHES!!!”

The elder hummed in acknowledgment, scribbling his nails all over his baby brother’s ribs. Happy tears appeared in the younger’s eyes as he could really do nothing but just laugh at this point in time. 

The youngest could barely even speak anymore, his giggles and squeals nearly drowning out his words, “STAHAH IHI C— *squeal* IHIHIT’S SOHO BAHAHAD!!! DEEHEE COHOME OHOHAHAN!” 

“Amused laugh. Angelo, please. I’m barely tickling you.” Donnie said as he now kneaded Mikey’s lowest rib. In result, the younger immediately jolted backwards, catching the older teen completely off guard. 

“OMIGOSH!!!” Donnie yelled in panic, his metal and meat fingers both stopping the tickling onslaught towards Mikey as he hugged him fully now. The scientist and the artist both fell down on the tile floor with the chair; the young geniuses battle-shell breaking their fall. 

There was a slight pause of silence before both of the brother’s broke into a large fit of laughter. Michelangelo stood, helping his brother up as they both continued to laugh.

“Thahat wahas…oho my gohosh…” The softshell snickered, wiping a tear from his eye as he put the chair back to where it originally was. “Yohou lihiterally jumped uhus into tomorrow…” He commented. 

Michelangelo panted heavily and let out soft giggles as he tried to catch his breath. The box turtle’s face was burning from how hard he’d been laughing but also because of how flustered he was due to the situation. 

Mikey shrugged, “Whahat cahan I say? I’m aha mahahaster ahat acrobatics.” 

Donatello raised a brow teasingly, facing his younger brother, “Oho, so you can do acrobatics but you can’t dance?” 

“Okahay, now you juhust ruined thehehe moment.” 

The purple banded turtle just chuckled, closing his laptop and putting it to charge on the desk. The smaller turtle grinned, going next to Donnie, “Sohoooo! Does thahat mean yohou like meehee mohore thahahan your computer and coding~?”

Donatello shrugged, trying to look uninterested, “Eh. I suppose so.” 

“Awe, c’mon. You lohooove me.” 

“I tolerate you. To an extent, anyway.” 

“Wow. Thanks so much. I feel sooooo special.” Mikey deadpanned, putting a hand to his chest as Donnie hugged him. “As you should.” The elder said, glancing at his wrist-watch. “Hm. We should probably get some snacky-snacks…it’s around 1 p.m.” He stated, trying to walk to the exit/entrance but was stopped due to the result of the youngest still hugging him. 

Donatello sighed fondly, peering down to the teen in question, “Your not going to let go of me, are you?” 

“Nooope!” 

“Figured.” The scientist huffed softly, shaking his head. 

“Now let’s go to the kitchen!”Michelangelo beamed, him and Donnie shimmy-ing out of the purple room and into the hallway, on their way to find some 'snacky-snacks' to eat for lunch. 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[ne-cocoa]

“And in those moments, that’s when he realized he was in love” 💖 ‧✩͓̊(ᵕ̴̤‧̮ ॣᵕ̴̤∗)ɞ₎₎☽˟

[yuukels]

[snail-noodle]

okay I'm just gonna ramble about my oc x shadow milk cookie now lmao 😭

Art credit @98chao 🩵💙🩵💙🩵💙 go check them out!!

Okay okay I have an oc, Oracle Cookie, who I ship with Shadow Milk Cookie, and every time I think about them, it's always the moment when they finally see each other after centuries have passed!

No, Oracle cookie did not approve of Shadow Milk cookie or his friends corruption. She couldn't bare to watch her lover and her friends act this way, so she stayed far away from them and remained with her family, even after they were imprisoned. She only found out that they were imprisoned when she received a letter from the faerie king himself!

And despite it all, despite who Shadow Milk Cookie had become, she was still in love with him. She keeps trying to deny it but once she sees him again... well, she can't lie to herself anymore.

I keep thinking of how they would hold eachothers faces so tenderly and lovingly 😭💖💕💖💕 he'd probably whisper her promises of how he'd keep by his side from now on and how they'll rule earthbread together once he regains his full power.

My girl may be in love, but she's no fool! I'm still debating on her being locked away in some dimensional pocket that shadow milk created to keep her, er, safe from the other cookies. Perhaps this could be a way for her to find out what exactly caused him to become the beast he is now.

But I also want her to travel alongside Gingerbrave and his friends. She's a bit of a recluse, so traveling with them will help her see that she doesn't have to remain in the past, especially when there's so much hope for the future :']

[soothedcerberus]

I was inspired to watch Assassination Classroom from your drawings. After finishing it, I have no regrets...though my tears might make that hard to believe.

[godbirdart]

i need you all to look at my bOY made by baybaysart I AM FULL SO MUCH LOVE AND ADORATION FOR MY BOY SEBASTIAN AAA sHE DID SUCH A GOOD JOB 😭💕💖💕💕💖💕💖💕

[eileen-crys]

John Deacon with Morris Minor and the Majors, behind the scenes of "This is the chorus", 1988.

- From Peter "Ratty" Hince's new book, thanks to @curlyhairpoodle for sending me the photo!

We already had this one, probably immediately before/after: