#and share with any friends who like the ship!

[sporadicallyanenthusiast]

It's interesting, because I'm reading a Brazilian Portuguese translation and I've been finding some differences from the English one, which I suspect may be truer to the original Greek. For example, in Portuguese, Menelaus is described as a blond instead of a ginger, and Athena is described with green eyes instead of gray. So I think that's the reason there might be a misconception on my part, since in the scene when Menelaus tells Telemachus what he knows about Odysseus, he says Proteus told him so after Menelaus captured him, instead of it being a dream.

I mean, if it had been described as a dream, it'd be very understandable why he wouldn't say anything! That's not trustworthy information you just go sharing out of nowhere, indeed. But since it was a prophet God that told him that (in the book I'm reading, at least), I thought it was a bit jarring he didn't try to warn anyone, you know?

Especially after he told Telemachus he liked Odysseus so much, he'd empty the island of Ithaca and relocate all of its inhabitants to Laconia, make a whole new kingdom for Odysseus there, just so they could rule nearby each other. Which is why I made the gay joke, by the way haha It's my first time reading Ancient Greek mythology and I admit I was caught off guard by such an earnest expression of Menelaus' love for his friend. Honestly, I get it, I would do the same for my best friends! Haha And I agree, I don't ship them either (even tho I haven't read the Iliad yet - yeah, I know 🥲) and I think it should be more normal to express how much we care about our friends the way Menelaus does.

Regardless, you are right the poor man had enough on his plate already.

And when you put it like that, indeed it's an awkward letter lol

Still, maybe I'm projecting too much here, but if I were in Penelope's or Telemachus' place, I'd like to know something, anything. As useless as the information may sound. They knew Odysseus didn't die in the Trojan War, so what happened? I'd find some semblance of comfort in knowing someone heard my loved one is still alive and he wants to get back to me. I can understand where Menelaus would be coming from, if he thought knowing wouldn't help Penelope of Telemachus at all, but if it were my husband or my father, I'd be furious no one told me.

And maybe it's wishful thinking on my part, but who knows, Penelope might have had some leverage to hold the suitors back in that scenario. It would be extremely disrespectful to try for the Queen's hand if there's a chance the King's still alive. And maybe then Telemachus would have had a chance to prove himself earlier, to show he is already a man and capable of taking over the throne, if he had traveled to look for his father sooner. I mean, Athena herself goes to Telemachus and essentially asks him "Why don't you finally kick those men (the suitors) out of your palace? Why don't you go try to get information about your father?". So maybe having a lead earlier on may have had saved them some of the trouble. At least that's what I was thinking when I read that scene.

And yes, you're right! There is a chance Menelaus did try to send a letter and it never arrived. And maybe he thought he ought to "repeat" the whole story to Telemachus, since the poor boy went through the trouble of getting to Sparta and asking him about Odysseus in person.

Well, at the end of the day, you are the scholar here, I'm just reading those myths for the first time hahaha. To be honest, I wrote the og post as a silly joke when I was half asleep, I didn't expect it to get any attention at all. So I apologize for any misinformation I may have spread on accident!

Telemachus is so much stronger than me for real. Cause if I had traveled for days, by sea AND land, arrived at the palace of my father's friend and my mother's cousin to humbly ask if they know anything about my missing father and instead of just fucking telling me already, this mf started a monologue about how gay he is for my dad and about the time he captured a God that granted him wishes three, I'd already be telling him to Hurry The Fuck Up. IT'S BEEN TEN YEARS, I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY.

But if the same motherfucker then turned around and told me that he had known FOR YEARS NOW that my dad is trapped on an island AND THE MOTHERFUCKER DIDN'T TELL ANYONE!!!! NOT A SINGLE LETTER!!! I would have already strangled Menelaus with that fucking blond hair of his in front of his wife and children, unhelpful son of a bitch.

[svt-rosalie]

. . . ♡ ROSIE ! ? 🐰 HEADCANNONS ★ ﾟ๑

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ part two! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

© 2024 , svt-rosalie rosalie masterlist!

notes! this is a part two to this ask from a while ago. i’ve had the maknae line version be requested twice so here it is! i hope you like it.

i can see you, girl

everything is all about you

all about you, ateez

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ dokyeom

seokminnie would always help jihye relax and destress after school or training

they would go to a park that was near their shared dormitory and when rosie would get on the swing, dokyeom would push her as high as she could go

her giggles and squeals of her telling him to push her higher up was his favorite part of the day

they’d be out all day to be honest if it wasn’t for seungcheol finding them every time before dinner

the hanging out wouldn’t stop at the park no

they would continue to hang out and play games inside of rosalie’s room

rosalie’s dad had bought her a bunch of board games for her birthday and had them shipped to the dorm so she could play with all the boys

so dokyeom and jihye would constantly be playing connect four, hungry hungry hippo, and rosalie’s favorite game monopoly

they’d be up into the night if they could!

but one time jihye fell asleep while laying on her stomach to play one of the games and so the 95 liners put the cut off time for games at 8 o’clock

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ mingyu

despite how much they argued and fought

mingyu always would cheer her up and bring her mood to 100%

mingyu could tell rosalie was stressed with school and training so he would do her work for her so she could simply just relax

but don’t tell anybody about that, rosie hated when he did it for her. she felt like a cheater but he reassured her that it was fine and this stuff was easy (it was not easy, she was in advanced classes and he had to look up how to do half of her work)

mingyu would often leave snacks on her bed for when she got home from school knowing how much of a snacker she was

he would invite her to play games with him to cheer her up after not making a high score on a test

they would often cause a huge ruckus in the dorm rooms from being too loud when playing together

the two would take walks together, to forget about everything

mingyu ALWAYS and i mean always went to important events for rosalie, she is his annoying little sister but he always wanted to be there for her and encourage her to keep going further in life

he’s still like that to this day even though he picks on her more then he would like to admit

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ minghao

despite the language barrier these two were and still are extremely close.

rosalie is a very lovable person, so she kinda drew minghao in like a magnet to metal

minghao took her as a naive person (not in a horrible way, but the girl was a pre-teen when they met) and wanted to protect that

so he kept her away from social media and any person who wanted to shout nasty, harsh things at her.

he knew the curse words in korean and grew to understand the comments people would make about her body and her singing

as cheesy as it sounds he would cover her ears when they went out in public stating to rosie that he did it so her ears wouldn’t hurt from all the yelling and shouting from the fans and fansites

rosie grew to appreciate and understand why minghao does and treats her the way he does compared to everyone else

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ seungkwan

boo seungkwan was one of rosalie’s first ever friends in south korea

that’s how he took care of rosie, but being there for her

to be honest, rosalie wasn’t very well liked by the other female trainee’s at pledis so seungkwan always stuck up for her and treated her a equal

anytime rosalie was overwhelmed by her emotions and needed a shoulder to lean on seungkwan was always there no matter if he was overwhelmed as well

he would always compliment her singing and dancing stating that she was one of the best he’s ever seen in a long time

rosie would be connected to seungkwan’s (and dino) side anytime during the week

if you needed her check with seungkwan, they are probably gossiping about the newest thing that happened at school

or they are at down the street eating some korean street food that was payed with rosalie’s weekly allowance from her parents

seungkwan is and will always be someone rosalie depends on to get through the day

now that they are older and they aren’t in the dorms anymore, seungkwan always calls to make sure she’s doing okay and if she needs anything to always call him

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ vernon

vernon is straight up just vernon

but he always acted like a big brother to rosalie

he would pick on her and take her things just to upset her and deny her ever did that

he’d take a big bite from her snack even though she said he could take a tiny bite

vernon would tease her about the little things that he knew she wouldn’t take offensive (he never disrespected her and if he did he apologized after realizing)

but vernon also checked on her to make sure she wasn’t hiding anything was bothering and would sit with her at night and let her cry about how much she missed her parents

despite her being half korean, she felt so foreign like she didn’t belong just because she was also half french. vernon comforted her endless nights about her worries and troubles

vernon helped her embrace herself when they first debuted and made sure she didn’t crawl into a shell of herself like so many thought rosalie would do

honestly, vernon is one of the reasons rosalie contained to be an idol

vernon treated her like a sister but took care of her like a friend

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ dino

these two were two peas in a pod during pre-debut and debut

again if rosalie wasn’t with seungkwan, she was with dino. probably doing homework together, going to the comic book store that was 20 minutes away, rough housing at the playground, or taking a nap together

dino was such a rock and a grounding piece for rosalie during this time and he still is

he didn’t realize he was helping rosalie as much as he was but nobody minds

dino always stuck up for rosalie at school when other girls would pick on her over her height and facial structure

he would always say “you look a cute baby bunny, they are just jealous they can’t have you cause i do!” it was such an innocent joke but rosalie took it so seriously

she knew if she didn’t anyone, she would always have chan

during dinner they always sat together and talked and laughed about the most random things

everyone else was confused on what else they had to talk about because they see each other all day and then sleep in the same room so what more was there??

well nothing really but they didn’t mind, it was really just being together that made everything better for them

rosalie didn’t stress about training when dino was around because they always encouraged each other that they were doing amazing

everything dino did was for rosalie, weather he realized it or not

click here to join rosie’s taglist’

taglist — @angie-x3 @alixnsuperstxr @allthings-fandoms @peachyaeger @sakufilms @aysxldea @swagcandyfun @wonwooz1 @s4nsmoon @seolarzone @miyx-amour @novwonia @marissa-11 @magicsoyeon @skzfairies @btskzfav @vhsdolly @iamawkwardandshy @yaebbinnie @conniesbbymama @jihoonsbbygirl @kaitieskidmore97 @cheolsboo @mars11rules67 @svt-manon

[wielderofaquill]

🎉HAZZAH🎉 I GOT MY FIRST TROLL ANON! I’ve made it to the big leagues! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

All jokes aside, though…even though a part of me wants to be petty AF and light these mofos up because I am a smartass by nature and sarcasm is my native tongue lol…I’ve made the executive decision to NOT post that trash on my blog. That’s not why I am here.

No shade to anyone who does post and respond to the troll anons, I promise. To each their own, as it should be!

Freedom of speech is wonderful, is it not? Literally NO ONE will infringe upon my right to speak freely…here or anywhere. And I will not infringe upon yours, whether I agree with you or not. But on my posts, all I ask for is that we keep it fun, respectful, and healthy. Nothing harmful to anyone. Dare I even say, mindful and demure? 😝

Now, with all that being said, have I commented on some of these posts? Have I reblogged these posts because I agreed with another blogger’s response to a troll anon? Of course I have! I’m not “holier than thou,” if you will, and will never claim to be. Sometimes I get fired up and get a tad spicy because, like most of you here, I too am a passionate fan of our 2 lovebirds, and Bridgerton, and so on. I share my thoughts and opinions like everyone else, and I enjoy showing my support for bloggers whose posts align with my beliefs as well. I do not have hard facts like everyone else here because (unfortunately, lol), we do not know them personally, nor do we know their families/friends personally. We are fortunate to get what we do get from them, considering how chaotic this fandom can get at times.

Anyway…it is on MY posts that I choose not to give the trolls any undeserved attention. I cannot bring myself to indulge in that kind of negativity on my posts, because it’s a waste of my time. Do I win something if I do? No? Okay.

As I said in my first post, trolls need not waste their time here. Channel that energy into something more productive. You can enjoy your side of the fandom without shitting on mine. Besides, I’m not budging from where I sit on this lovely ship. 🛳️

Allow me to clarify a couple more things before I sign off—I DO NOT discourage anon messages, and I DO NOT discourage varying opinions. In fact, I look forward to receiving your messages and discussing things with anyone who wishes to do so! But if it is laced with hate, bullying, or any other form of vitriolic fuckery, I WILL NOT share it here.

I’ll leave you all with this, the #1 rule of the Internet:

DON’T FEED THE TROLLS.

Xx ✌🏻

[bearprofessorr]

chasing the stars.

being kind costs nothing, but earns you so much more than you could ever imagine.

ship: bfd!declan o'hara/fem!reader. tags/warnings: slow burn, alcohol mentions, panic attacks, fluff/comfort, no y/n. word count: 2.5k.

--- a/n: i've already written p2 and i'm just saying it is way slower development wise than i'm used to writing - however, it'll get there i promise <333. I'll edit it and get it up probably when im part way through p3 just to keep the flow of posts decently consistent (famous last words). enjoy <3

---

Declan was, as ever, stressed as fuck when he came back from work - barely stopping for a quick 'hello' before heading into his office and slamming the door shut behind him. You, as had become habit on a Friday night, were two glasses of white wine deep, cooking some new recipe with Taggie in the kitchen as a new years resolution the pair of you had made to broaden your taste palettes. Taggie was busy being a perfectionist measuring out the dough into the tray, and you - with no real intention one way or another - took the chance to peek your head around to check in on your best friend's dad. You disappeared from the kitchen with a quick, "Be right back, Tag." that was quietly acknowledged before she went back to adjusting the balls of dough. You lingered outside of the door, hearing the frustrated mutterings of the Corinium show host, hesitating before knocking lightly on the hardwood. The mutterings paused, and you heard the scratch of wood against wood, then heavy footfall until the door clicked open. Declan, expecting it to be his daughter, started to speak as the door opened, "Tag, look I'm - oh-" He paused, gathering himself in a fraction of a second, "Hey love, are you alright?" His voice softened from the slightly accusative tone he started with, eyebrows knitting together as he tried to read your neutral expression.

"Yeah no, I'm okay." You started, with Declan nodding along with a tired expression in his gaze. Your eyes dropped from his as you admitted, "I was actually coming to check in on you."

"There's no need for that, love." The nickname slipped so easily as he spoke to you, and you gathered he had no idea how close you held the endearment to your heart. "I'm alright, but thank you."

He stepped back from the doorway, going to close the door, and in a moment of confidence, you pressed your hand against it to stop the movement. "Are you sure? You don't look fine, if I must say, Mr. O'Hara."

Declan took a deep breath in at that, he had been caught, it seemed. He clicked his tongue before conceding, stepping back again to open the door of his office to you. "If you insist, I'll regale my troubles."

"Oh, I insist, I wouldn't be able to sleep without knowing what ails your soul." You joked as you walked into his office - the one place in the house that was wholly Declan. His books adorned the grand bookshelves on each wall, his work was stacked into haphazard but organised looking piles with sticky notes plastered over them, the whole room was quintessentially him. Even the scents of whiskey and lingering smoke made the room more like his. You almost felt like the room would start to push you out, with your flour covered skirt and light perfume made of peonies and vanilla acting like a magnet to repulse you from the space. Except, it drew you in, the one place in your best friend's house that it made sense you never spent any time in - apart from the obvious personal bedrooms of the house's other inhabitants.

"Make yourself comfortable, we might be here for a while." He smiled to himself, the weight on his shoulders lifting slightly with the mere concept of someone to share the burden with. Someone who he had never really spoken to in much depth - not counting the drunken talk of philosophy that he often fell into with whoever would listen. The door clicked shut behind him, walking past your to sit behind his desk, where he was already part way through a glass of whiskey - which if Taggie knew she would chastise him for, but she wasn't here.

"So, what's got you in more of a huff than usual?"

"What do you know about what's usual for me?"

"If I hadn't heard all of it from Taggie when I haven't been here, the past 3 weeks that I have been here when you come back from Corinium you've been in varying states of joy or outright despair." You shot back, which Declan silently responded with his tongue running along the the backs of his teeth, "Do you need me to repeat the question?"

"No, no, heard you loud and clear." Declan put a hand up in mock defeat, "I don't know how much has gotten to you about Tony Baddingham, but he was being even more of an arsehole than usual." He spat his bosses name out like it was rotten, even with the conversational tone of his words, "Gave the Thatcher interview to Veriker."

"James Veriker? The daytime show guy?" Your jaw dropped a fraction, enough for Declan to pick up on the visceral reaction it caused within you, "He could barely interview a chatterbox never mind the fucking PM."

"You're telling me." Declan bit back a scowl, feeling the tension rise in his jaw, reaching instinctively for the whiskey glass and taking a long sip. "Baddingham saw me as too much of a flight risk for 'handling' the woman 'cause I didn't want to ask about her fucking kids."

Declan took a deeper breath at that, the embers of his anger being sparked from where they had previously settled. You took that as your moment to comment, "He's not going to outshine what you could - and have done. It'll be considered monumental because it's independent TV, not because she got the true 'Declan' treatment - like she deserves."

"Right." The older man shook his head at the thought of James Veriker opposite the PM on his stage. "He won't stray from what's asked of him 'cause at the end of the day, he's Tony's lapdog."

"Didn't take you for being a gossip, Mr. O'Hara." You accused playfully at the insinuation, finally getting comfortable in your seat.

"Please, love, you can call me Declan. No need for the respectful parent shit around here, alright?" Again with the endearment, you could at least write off the smile that immediately plastered across your features as being from getting to first name basis with your friend's dad.

"Noted, Declan." To stop the fluttering in your chest, you tried your best to steer the conversation back to why you came here in the first place, "Is that really all it takes to get you in such a storm? Correct me if I'm wrong, of course, but there has to be something else."

"Well then, you should consider journalism with an instinct like that." Declan deflected, looking from you to the swirl of amber liquid in the centre of his glass, hesitating to even form the next sentence in his head - since then he would have to acknowledge it's truth. Regardless, you were ruthless, poking him again.

"So there is something?" You assumed it was some secondary work troubles, something else infuriating about another one of his co-workers that lingered in the after hours of his workday. What you didn't immediately catch onto was how he had nearly frozen on the other side of the desk, biting the inside of his cheek, breathing deep to hold back the emotion that had bubbled to the surface.

As soon as you did, though, you stood from your chair, raced around the other side of the desk to try and comfort him, unsure entirely of how to proceed, what was appropriate to do when your best friend's dad was close to breaking down in front of you. "Hey, hey," You tried to get his attention, his eyes flickered to the sound of your voice but he was still frozen, "Look, I get that you might not want to tell me - is there someone I can call? Maybe Rupert? I know he lives just across the field-"

"It's alright, love, I-" His voice choked up, jaw tensing his mouth shut as his lip quivered. Now that you were closer you could see the tears pilling up on his waterline, threatening to break the barrier and fall down his cheek. The gloss of his eyes only made them look younger, his deep brown irises reflecting the golden light of the room.

"Declan?" Your voice was quiet, having lost all power and confidence it had when you walked into the room compared to now, "If you need me to go, I can. I'm sorry if I overstepped at all."

You waited a moment for a response, but as you leant yourself off of his desk, his hand came out to reach for your arm, his hold noncommittal. The silent agreement between you was clear, even if he didn't want to speak, he really did not want to be alone. He still didn't say a word to you, but he turned his head to meet your gaze, looking up at you with his doe-like eyes. That was enough for you to rest back on the edge of his desk, adjusting your own arm so his hand slid into yours. It wasn't meant as a romantic gesture, your fingers weren't intertwined at all, it was just for the reassurance that you were here, and you cared for him. You squeezed his hand once, a sympathetic look in your eyes matched with an upside-down smile.

The soundscape of the outdoors replaced your conversation, the archetypal noise of the countryside, the rustling of leaves and choirs of chirps as the sun dipped below the horizon, coating the sky in shades of pink and orange. You both stayed as you were for minutes, until Declan broke the silence with a quiet admission, "I- you can't tell Tag about this," He prefaced, waiting for you to acknowledge it, as much as it would hurt your to hide anything from your best friend, it was necessary in the moment. He took a purposeful breath, "Her mother and I, you probably know from Tag it's not been the best as of recent."

You nodded, still holding his hand.

"I have a feeling, that if nothing changes, it won't get any better - if you catch my meaning." His voice was solemn, one admitting defeat in a war instead of the typical talk of a long-term relationship like his with Maud. "And, I don't think I can change anymore."

It was your turn to sit and process, as Declan stared into the middle distance, loosely focused on the door; While his other hand came up to cover the bottom half of his face, realisation settling in. Your gaze was set out of the window behind the desk, in front of you, watching the world pass by as your mind raced. You couldn't tell Taggie, never mind if Declan hadn't made you promise not to, it simply wasn't your place to break that type of news to her, no matter how close you two were. The only other thought at the forefront of your mind was how to help Declan relax, how to calm him down, get him out of the spiral he was at the precipice of throwing himself into the centre of. If it was anyone else, you would take them out on the town, forget over a bottle of wine and music loud enough to drown out their thoughts. Although, you assumed from Declan's general introverted personal life that a rowdy club would be the last place he wanted to be in this kind of state. Instead, you did the logical thing, since your own mind had run dry of ideas.

"How can I help?" You suggested, not realising that at some point, Declan's gaze had moved from the door to you, for long enough that when you looked down to get his attention, it was already fixed on you.

"A distraction would be nice."

"Like a story?"

"If you've got one."

"Yeah, it's probably all going to seem petty to you, but they're the only ones I've got of any interest, unfortunately."

"Go ahead."

You regaled some bygone tale of a schoolfriend's suspension, all the way from your young teen days but still fresh in your mind and still just as scandalous. You became more animated the more you got into the story, your hand slipping away from his to gesture excitedly about the chase around the school grounds that your friend was involved in, with teachers and students trailing behind to watch as it all unfolded. Your eyes were rushing around the room, never settling, so you couldn't see the fondness in Declan's eyes as he watched you speak, and how quickly it helped him forget about his own troubles simply by the guidance of your voice. "And then," You paused, overcome with laughter at the memory. "Then," you gathered yourself, looking to Declan to reach the apex of the story, "She got stuck on the fence while she tried to climb over it, and had to get the fire brigade in to cut her out!"

"That's…" Declan chuckled alongside you, "And you said you went to an all girl's school?"

"Mhm!" you agreed, "The amount of crazy stuff that went down in that place, you'd think it was a TV show sometimes."

"If what you've just told me is anything to go by, I might just have to agree with you there, love." He paused, thinking on the details of the story, "Are you still friends with this girl?"

"No, no not really," You shook your head, appreciating the last warm embers of the sun as it fully disappeared out of view, "I hear about her and her lot every so often, some new escapade they've gotten wrapped up in, or old stories that finally get all the details filled in."

Declan nodded along as you spoke, his voice softer but with a clearer tiredness underneath, "Like a cold case, then? Those always fascinated me, keeping tabs on seemingly dead ends just for the hope of a revitalisation."

You made an affirmative sound, letting the conversation fall into a lull as you took in a deeper breath, appreciating the serenity of the moment, breaking the silence with a quiet, "Are you feeling better?"

He muttered a small 'yeah' following it up with a sincere, "Thank you, love."

"It's no worry, you needed it, and it cost me nothing to help - so why wouldn't I?"

"You're a selfless girl, honestly." He smiled to himself, the pull on his heartstrings a problem to deal with later, "Tag is lucky to have you."

"Speaking of!" The time had been lost on you, a part of you was sad to have to leave, but there was only so long before Taggie would get concerned of your absence, "I should go check if she needs any help finishing off the food."

Declan gave a polite smile as you got up from the desk, brushed off your skirt, leaving a small puff of flour in it's wake and rushed off to the kitchen, not before pausing at the door for a moment, turning back to Declan and letting him know, "I'll poke my head round once they're ready, if you're still here."

"I will be, thank you."

[kathlare]

a quiet farewell

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie is in the process of leaving her London apartment, reflecting on her time spent in the city, her experiences filming Wicked, and the complex emotions tied to her past, especially regarding Lando. As she prepares to move back to New York, she encounters Max Fewtrell, an old friend who offers support.

Wordcount: 1.8 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

December 12th, 2022 - London, United Kingdom

The sky outside was dull and overcast, typical of London’s December weather. A soft drizzle kissed the windows of the apartment as Amelie packed the last few of her things into cardboard boxes. The place, once filled with the bustling energy of her life in the midst of filming Wicked, now felt eerily empty. It had only been a few days since she’d wrapped her part in the musical, but the transition from being on set every day to leaving the city felt abrupt, like she was shedding an entire chapter of her life.

She wasn’t exactly sad to be leaving. London had been a stop on the way to something bigger—something new. But still, this apartment held memories of long nights spent rehearsing, of quiet dinners alone, and of course, the occasional visits from friends. And then there was Lando.

It was impossible to think of this apartment without remembering the time they had spent here together in 2021. The endless hours gaming, the spontaneous trips to get food in the middle of the night, and the strange, unspoken chemistry that had built between them, even when they both pretended it was nothing. The friendship that had slowly evolved into something more—a situation ship, as Lando had called it. But that was before it all came crashing down.

Amelie paused for a moment, leaning against the stack of boxes. She hadn’t spoken to Lando in over a year. The last time they had seen each other was at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix a few weeks ago, and she had barely acknowledged his presence. She couldn’t even remember what had happened, but she had made her choice to keep her distance, focusing on the relationships that mattered now.

Amelie sighed and shook her head, trying to shake off the memories that seemed to hover around her like a cloud. The past year had been a whirlwind of emotions, both good and bad, and now she was moving on. There was nothing more to do here in London. It was time to return to New York, where everything felt a little more like home. As much as she had enjoyed her time here, the city had become a place of memories she didn’t need to revisit any longer.

The soft sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, and Amelie turned her head, expecting to see one of the building’s tenants or maybe the landlord checking in. Instead, she froze. Standing at the end of the hallway, looking up at her with a slight frown, was Max Fewtrell.

Max leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his face soft with curiosity and concern. His trademark casualness was present, but there was a hint of surprise in his eyes.

—You’re moving out?— he asked, raising an eyebrow. His voice, though warm, carried a touch of disbelief, as if he hadn’t expected to see her leaving so soon.

Amelie hesitated, the box in her hands suddenly feeling heavier. She hadn’t seen Max in a while. Their friendship, though not as close as it had once been, still lingered in the odd, quiet way that time and distance did. But seeing him now, standing in the hallway of the building they’d both shared, she felt a twinge of familiarity.

—Yeah,— she replied, trying to keep her tone light. —I’m heading back to New York. Finally done with the filming, and there’s not much for me here anymore. Just... need to get out of this place, I guess.—

Max nodded slowly, stepping forward, his gaze flickering over the boxes stacked by the door.

—If you need a hand...— he started, his voice casual, but with the underlying sincerity that Max always had when he offered help.

Amelie gave a soft chuckle, looking up at him.

—You don’t have to do that, Max. It’s just a couple of boxes.—

Max smirked, shrugging nonchalantly.

—Yeah, well, I’m sure you’ve got everything under control, but it’s not like I’ve got anything else to do today.— He paused for a moment, as if weighing his words. —Besides, I haven’t seen you in forever. Thought I’d at least offer. You know, in case you’re planning to tackle this mountain of stuff alone.—

There was a hint of awkwardness in his smile, but it was genuine. They hadn’t been as close after everything had unfolded, but there was still a comfort in his presence. She nodded, setting down the box with a sigh.

—Alright, alright. I’ll take the help.—

Max’s face softened as he moved to grab one of the larger boxes. They made their way down the stairs, the quiet buzz of the building’s usual hum filling the space between them.

After a few moments, Amelie couldn’t help but break the silence.

—How’s everything going with you? I mean... I know it’s been a while, but you look... good. Busy?— She glanced over at him, half-grinning. Max had always been someone she could talk to, even when everything else felt complicated.

Max looked over at her, raising an eyebrow.

—Yeah, you know, same old. Busy as always, I guess. Not much new on my end. Been mostly trying to dodge the craziness around the F1 scene. You, though? Looks like you’ve been living your best life.—

Amelie snorted softly, running a hand through her hair.

—Yeah, I guess. Filming “Wicked” was... well, it was a lot. But it’s over now. And with all that, I kinda lost touch with everything else. Which... maybe wasn’t the best idea.—

She could feel the words hanging between them, the unspoken tension, the reminder of what had happened back in 2021, between her and Lando. The last time she and Max had truly spoken, everything had been different—before she’d wrapped herself in the whirlwind of her film career and before things had soured with Lando.

Max tilted his head, eyes softening as he glanced over at her.

—You know... I’ve always said this, but... sometimes you need to get lost in the chaos to figure stuff out. Even if it’s just for a while.—

Amelie nodded slowly, grateful for the kindness in his voice.

—Yeah, I guess that’s what I did. Got lost. It was easier that way, you know?— She paused, her voice trailing off. —I needed to figure things out on my own, without distractions, without... well, without things that reminded me of everything I was trying to leave behind.—

Max didn’t push her, but he nodded, as if he understood exactly what she meant. Their friendship, even though it wasn’t as strong as it once had been, still carried that unspoken connection. They didn’t need to dive into every detail to understand where the other was coming from.

—Yeah, I get it. Sometimes stepping away is the only way to make sense of things, even if it takes a while to come back to it.— Max’s voice was steady, like he was trying to ease her through whatever mental hurdles she was running into.

They reached the lobby, and Amelie set the box down near the door to the outside. Max followed her, setting down his own box with a grunt.

—So, New York, huh?— Max asked, casually resting his hands on his hips. —Back to the big city after all this time. Must be a strange feeling, leaving London behind. You were here for a while.—

Amelie let out a quiet sigh, rubbing her hand over her forehead. —It is. But... it’s time. Things here were never the same after... everything that happened. And besides, New York is where it all started for me. It’s home. I can’t stay here forever.—

There was a slight pause between them. Amelie looked up, seeing Max's expression soften, though his gaze was distant, like he wasn’t just talking about New York anymore. She knew what he was thinking, or at least, she thought she did.

Max shifted his weight, eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing something in his mind. He tilted his head, his expression thoughtful.

—You went to Abu Dhabi, didn’t you?— he said casually, the question hanging in the air. It was an observation, not a question for confirmation, but Amelie knew exactly what he meant. It wasn’t just about the Grand Prix; it was about everything that had happened before.

Amelie froze for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. She didn’t answer immediately, instead staring at the ground for a brief second before meeting his eyes. She could feel the familiar tension rising in her chest, the same knot that had formed every time she’d crossed paths with Lando or had to confront something she had buried away.

—So, he told you, huh?— she said, her voice quieter than usual. She let the question linger in the air as she met Max's gaze with a mixture of resignation and something else, something more vulnerable, maybe. It wasn’t just about her going to Abu Dhabi. It was about what had transpired since then, about the unspoken things that had been left in the air after that weekend.

Max didn’t flinch, and he didn’t look away. He gave her a slow nod, his eyes soft but still carrying that knowing look that had become a part of him.

—Yeah... he told me. I didn’t know you were back in the mix after all this time. Honestly, I thought you’d cut ties with the whole F1 circus for good.— He shrugged, his tone not judgmental, but still full of curiosity.

Amelie swallowed, leaning against the doorframe for support, her fingers still pressed lightly against the cardboard of the box she had been holding.

—Well, I guess I had a few things I needed to work out on my own, you know? Lando’s... Lando. And I don’t have to explain myself to him, or anyone else, really.— Her voice was steady now, though there was a sharpness to it she hadn’t intended. The mention of Lando always made her emotions twist into knots. It was hard not to think of him when everything they had shared felt so recent, even though it had been a year since everything ended. She didn’t want to admit how much it still affected her, how much she still carried from that time.

Max could sense the tension in her voice, the way her body stiffened as soon as Lando’s name slipped into the conversation. He knew better than to push her further, especially when it was clear that Amelie wasn’t ready to dive into the past.

He shifted his weight, looking down at the boxes stacked outside her apartment. The weight of the moment hung in the air, but Max wasn’t one to let things drag on in uncomfortable silence for too long.

—Fair enough. I get it. You’ve got your reasons. But just so you know, he wasn’t exactly... thrilled to see you ignoring him at the Grand Prix.— Max’s voice had an edge to it now, just a hint of teasing.

Amelie’s eyes snapped to him, and she could tell that Max was well aware of how touchy the topic was. His tone wasn’t judgmental, more like an offhand remark that hinted at the unspoken understanding between them—an understanding that had survived even after all the weirdness and distance.

—Right, well... I’m sure he’s had plenty of things to occupy his time since then.— Amelie’s voice was almost too calm, the words slipping out before she could stop herself. She couldn’t help it. She had spent so long trying to move on, but there was always a part of her that felt tied to Lando, even after everything.

Max met her gaze with a knowing look, his eyebrows furrowing slightly.

—Yeah, well, you know how it goes. Lando’s got his distractions. But I think he’s still got a bit of a soft spot for you, you know? Doesn’t help that he’s been with a string of girls who... kinda remind him of you.— He didn’t say it to be cruel. In fact, there was something almost sympathetic in the way he said it, like he understood the mess that had been their situation.

Amelie’s stomach twisted at his words. It was always like this with Lando—his way of moving on without truly letting go. The girls he dated were nothing more than placeholders, distractions from the real thing.

—Jesus, Max, I don’t need to hear that right now, okay?— Her voice cracked just slightly as she tried to keep her emotions in check. The last thing she wanted was for her complicated feelings to spill out in front of him.

—Alright, I’ll shut up about him. I’m just here to help you with your boxes. No need to dive into that drama.—

Amelie appreciated that, more than Max could probably understand. They hadn’t talked about Lando much since their falling out, and it was clear to her that Max was trying to navigate the delicate space between them. He wasn’t intruding, but he was still offering her the connection and understanding that had once been a pillar of their friendship.

They finished unloading the boxes into the bus, the last of Amelie’s things being packed up and ready for the move. There was still a bit of awkwardness hanging between them, but it was different now. The tension from before had softened, and they were back to that easy, familiar rhythm that had always existed between them—quiet conversations, small gestures of support, and a sense of understanding that needed no explanation.

As they finished, Amelie turned to face him, taking a deep breath before speaking. Her voice was quiet but urgent.

—Max... can you... please not tell Lando about today? About me leaving? I just... I don’t want him to know. Not right now.—

Max looked at her for a long moment, his expression serious. He was quiet for a second, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting her eyes again.

—I won’t say anything. You have my word, Amelie.—

Relief washed over her, though she tried not to show too much of it. She nodded once, the weight on her chest lifting just a little.

—Thanks. I... I just can’t deal with him right now, you know? It’s... complicated. It’s always been complicated. And I just need a clean break, without anyone telling him what’s going on. Please.—

Max gave a simple nod, his lips curling into a soft smile.

—I get it. You don’t need to explain. You’ve got enough on your plate.—

Amelie smiled, her eyes softening as she finally relaxed, feeling the last of her defenses slip away. For a brief moment, it felt like things were back to a place where they could just be friends again—no pressure, no hidden meanings.

She glanced over at the bus, the large vehicle waiting to take her back to New York. It was a new chapter, a fresh start.

As she picked up the last of her things, Max helped her with the final box, and they exchanged a few more quiet words. It was strange, this feeling of moving on, of letting go. But in the end, it was for the best.

When she was finally ready to leave, Max turned to her, giving her one last casual salute.

—Take care, Amelie. You’ll do great out there. Don’t be a stranger.—

Amelie nodded, her voice quieter now.

—I won’t. Thanks, Max. And... I’ll see you around, alright?—

With that, she climbed into the bus and closed the door behind her, the last of her ties to London slipping away with a soft hum of the engine. She sat back in her seat, closing her eyes for a moment as the city began to fade in the distance.

For the first time in a long time, Amelie felt like she was finally free.

[trixi3dustt]

As most of the chronic tiktok users on this app probably know, it recently came back to us this afternoon. I can’t lie, I only started to be active on this app as a result of the ban. HOWEVER, I kinda want to stay.

FIRST people on here can get away with astronomical levels of freak compared to tiktok without any “oh that’s not!” comments. (This may or may not be in regard to shadowvanilla). And honestly, just fandom/shipping culture in general.

Like—god forbid you EVER mention a non-canon ship on tiktok, or even have non-canon HEADcanons. Back in my day, when i was still into mha, you could ship the wildest (let me clarify LEGAL—i don’t fw none of that illegal stuff)pair, but nowadays an utterance of kiribaku has people rioting.

So, as someone who enjoys rare-pairs and a little bit of mischaracterization for the funnys here and there (bookstreet reference), this app is AWESOME.

SECOND—kind of stemming from the first point—my oc stories are probably more welcomed here than… on that app.

Finally, I fucking hate that orange bitch, AI, and elon, and you can count on the fact that I will refuse to use tiktok if it becomes meta or American owned. Free speech was the best part of tiktok, and now I have no doubt they’re gonna try to restrict that.

Okay sorry for being that one friend that’s too woke, I’m gonna introduce myself as an artist soon and maybe share some art!!!!

[cryptid-killjoy]

Willem was always going to be a guy down for a HTH break in. It was just the sort of adventure Wild Will was in toespecially if it ended in chilli dogs.

Willem also wasn't sure he ever thought of himself as a father figure to any of the dolls yet. Caretaker? Yes. Father, somehow, he didn't see himself as that even of his own creations even if that might have been somewhat true. Thoughts for another, perhaps. Emotions that hadn't quite matured or been labeled, perhaps.

"A mother? Hmm. I guess I can see that. I'll think about that."

He left it at that for more pondering later. What he knew for sure and did not have to think any longer on was Figaro looked cool as fucking get out with a firearm like that. It straight up suited them. Willem decided it was hot and gave it a double glance, maybe two.

"You look like a video game... in a cool way."

The compliment felt needed.

But moving along into the Livvy's home. Willem wouldn't know Figaro would have expected, but he knew what to expect with how many times he'd made these excursions to check the dolls. He navigated the home with ease.

Figaro wasn't wrong for thinking it was sad. Willem knew it was. It was why they didn't mind when Figaro first chose to stay at the ball. Sad things like this were often easier done in private. Modesty for humility. Smalls said no judgement and Will felt safe enough he wasn't unaware of how it would come off.

They laughed about the shrine and even turned red to some extent.

"I'm pretty sure she's my number one hater wherever she is now and has a voodoo doll of me and with its nuts in a vice on a Battleship board and keeps tossing it overboard. I have a theory they had something to do with Pan's flood making the blizzard melt day randomly a double hard moment for us because only she would hate me enough right now to want to make every moment of my life as hard as it could possibly be."

Even saying his theory out loud made him laugh.

"I'd have deserved it though. From her mind. We broke up after sailing on a ship across the water. Trying to drown me just makes sense to me. Poetic Justice. Whatever better form of justice is there?"

Despite it being oddly morbid he said it playful with humoral candor.

Then Figaro agreed to head on out and search for Livvy's uncle's closet.

"Okay, that's good. You come find me then."

He was going to go looking for Smalls, but Smalls said they'd come back when they were done, so they changed their mind and would wait for Smalls to come back to them.

When Figaro headed out Willem went along with his routine of tinkering with each shelf. He'd careful take ever figurine and doll off one shelf at a time and neatly lay them on the bed while he dusted the shelf and then cleaned the figures themselves before standing each one back one at a time. As he did this, he'd make sure any soft ones were fluffed and their dresses were tidied, shoelaces or bows flounced, and hats properly straightened. If Livvy had told him anything particular about the doll, he'd go through that memory in his mind to pay it homage to what sentimental value it held in the secrets of their faces. To the one he had no information he sent the same appreciation because there's sentiment in the bond of a knick knack, a memento, a toy, that's far stronger than just a memory.

He once considered memories like pages in a book of who a person is. They can be turned and re-turned again. He could read the same chapter more than once as many times as he liked for fun, but never truly relive it. A souvenir or memento of a memory is simply that, a small token. It could be thrown away or lost, but the memory still exists. The chapter can still be filed through in one's recollection. A doll however, a toy with a face, for some reason feels different to Willem than some token. Even silent it looks back. It gives the feeling it experienced all your eyes saw in that same memory. It experienced what you did. A shared experience becomes a friend not a souvenir. One can look into those non-moving eyes and think they were there. Maybe it was nuts? However, if you were a person who could also take those same dolls and bring them to life if he wanted the idea might not seem so farfetched. Lifeless dolls might seem more important than just some old attachment that needed to be let go of.

To Willem's credit he hadn't gone as far as bringing any of Livvy's dolls to life, but it had entered his mind. He was under no delusion he'd ever see Livvy again and he didn't want his old girlfriend's living dolls being a drain on relationships. He was bright enough to realize that could be a deal breaker moving forward. He just hadn't gotten to the fully moved forward part yet.

Okay, so he'd done a little messing around. Zero existed. Even Piper existed, more new, Nutmeg. These were not people who were ever going to be in Willem's life in a permanent way. They were when the mood hit kind of friends. These were complicated friends, not actual relationships.

All that said, none of it was on its mind now. Just the dolls were. When he finished with the cleaning, he'd pick up that mermaid again and sit down on the bed. It had a tendency to get the most favor and longest time being held. It had the vast majority of memories attached for Will. He laid back with it. He sat it on his chest and admired its face as he relaxed. He'd glance over at the shelf and give it a smile. Then he'd smooth over the mermaid's glossy hair. Motions like had a way triggering other past memories like turning Livvy into a doll at Barbie and Ken's party. He remembered the texture of her hair and the sand. He recalled the paints. He could relive every brush stroke of the artwork like muscle memory as porcelain slid under his his fingertips.

He sang one of the lines to the song he wrote Livvy just above a whisper. "If you don't feel that this is real then I'll just walk away. Way deep down I know I found the that proof that love can save. So take some time to figure out what this thing is all about. I hope some day you feel it too. I promise that I'll try to love the best I can. You make me a better man. Whatever this is leading to. For the first time I'm gonna listen to my heart."

Then he took a big breath and sat up. He kissed the little figurine. "I guess it all led me to you pretty lady. I saved you from the boxes. I can live with that."

Then he shined up her face one more time before placing her back in her proper place knowing full well his heart would always be with the dolls. It would be a big enough win for him.

"Thanks for being a part of that." He added as he tapped one finger tip on the glass after closing the shelving unit back up.

It left a smudge.

"Woops."

So, he went to Windex the last spot before he was completely done with the room. He cleaned it spotless enough for a bird to smash into. He was pleased with his work. He joked to the dolls, "Lucky this thing isn't a patio door."

“Now that would be entertaining to see. Especially if you two do the awkward dance of trying to pass each other but stepping in each other’s way,” Figaro said. Bright sides, sunny sides, you had to have the light to be able to have the dark too. Figaro tried to keep the balance.

Chili Dogs. Now that sounded good. Just the thought of it was enough to get the hunger going, the saliva flowing, despite being in this stink of a place. “Fuck it, we’re sneaking into Halloweentown one of these days. Once you try one of their Chili Cheese Dogs, your life isn’t going to be the same.”

Hansel as a handsome guy though? “It’s weird,” They said. “I feel somewhat … almost maternal over him? Guess I kind of am a parent now.”

What an odd thing to think about. What an odd thing to realize. In Funkytown, the dynamic hadn’t really changed. Figaro was in charge but hardly ever acted on it. It felt - wrong, somehow, to try to take control, having watched Gepetto give them their own autonomy, their own thoughts, their own actions. So Mr Punch kept being uncontrollable. Hansel kept living in the walls and being a bit of a pervert, his human body still having human feelings, thrusting against a wall while watching through a peephole.

“Yup, keeping this on me,” They agreed. It was not a good smell. Eventually all of the flesh and organs would rot away and then it would just be bones, which didn’t have as bad of a smell, but right now, it was pretty rank. The place needed some sort of Fabreeze cleansing. Or maybe Frank and Delta spent so much time up in their castle, they didn’t even know that it smelt so bad down here. They needed some sort of comment box, in Figaro’s opinion.

All of their information about guns came from movies and videogames. They knew at the very least to turn on the safety for now, until they would need it. “All I need are some green plants, and we’ve gone totally Resident Evil in this bitch.”

Great minds think alike. Figaro was also all about upgrading their setup at home. Getting a bigger TV, though the vintage one had been moved into their room, because they weren’t going to get rid of Gepetto’s things, other than giving some to Willem, of course. But it felt like he was one of Gep’s kids too. The stuff was THEIRS. Not just inherited by Fig. Better sound system, more gizmos and gadgets.

Figaro let Willem take the lead since they didn’t know their way around the apartment block. They had the gun in hand, waiting for a chance to use it. To ‘blast them’ as Thomas would say. Their knowledge of annoying curses and animal speak wasn’t the most useful for a zombie situation, except to get birds and other animals to let them know where the zombies themselves were. They had to bring out the big guns.

They didn’t say anything about Willem having the key. It just made sense, given that he came to visit the dolls. Others might have found it a bit romantic, perhaps, that he kept visiting his ex’s apartment, taking care of her things. But Figaro just found it practical.

The two of them went through the building, checking around corners, making sure that there wasn’t something waiting on just the other side. But it looked as if the building had mostly been cleaned out. Any life that was here that would have drew the zombies in, disappeared a long time ago. Still, once inside of the apartment, Figaro turned the lock on the door to feel a touch safer.

Though they were anxious to get at that Hawaiian shirt collection that hopefully had not been eaten away from bugs or faded by light coming in through the windows, they were curious about Livvy’s room, and would follow Willem inside. It wasn’t exactly what they had expected.

The shelves were new, and taken care of, that much was clear. It wasn’t covered in dust and cobwebs like everything else. The dolls seemed to be in a place of prevalence. They stood out, like they were an important item in a video game or something, rendered more predominantly.

“I’m a little surprised,” They admitted, hands on their hips, looking at the girliness of the room, the teal color that was on everything, the bit of a mess of clothes from when Livvy was deciding what to pack all that time ago for the big boat trip. “I was expecting a huge shrine to you,” They said, looking to Willem. “Or did you get embarrassed and take that down?”

They weren’t trying to be funny or teasing, that’s genuinely what Figaro thought that they would walk into when it came to Livvy’s space. A whole wall plastered with pictures of Willem, maybe some with Fig but with Fig’s face cut out or something like that. Pieces of his hair, his toenail clippings, on a shelf. This was a voodoo town after all, it wouldn’t be hard for some white girl to get their hands on some sort of love potion or DIY-Voodoo-Doll set. But it was actually pretty … relaxed in here.

They were watching Willem more than the dolls after that, making sure that he was going to be alright while doing this. But maybe it was something that he just needed to do, the way that some people just needed a big cry. Something about it being cathartic.

‘Miss her if she comes back.’ ‘Don’t get too lonely.’

It was … kind of sad.

“Yes, I’ll leave you guys to talk and gossip and … do whatever it is that y’all do in here, no judgment,” They said, putting their hands up and backed out of the room slowly. “I’ll come find ya once I finish raiding that closet.”

[blue-misery]

Wrote my first Hank/Connor fic! Part one is live and I’ll be releasing a chapter every Friday! It takes place right after the revolution. Connor is having trouble fitting in with the other androids. He takes off on his own. There is a crucial miscalculation. It's December in Michigan.

Read it on Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/49626865

[sprimpfriedrice]

White dungeon meshi fans sound like this to me:

It's extremely fascinating and frightening to me how hateful some of you people are towards shuro, a man who is clearly depicted as japanese, (a man who could look like me or literally any member of my family in real life) for being a normal, complex, and flawed human being.

Why do you single him out for getting frustrated with and mad at laios when chilchuck and marcille do the same literally all the time? What's the difference between them and shuro?

Why do you feel the unnecessary need to protect these white women from a japanese man?

Do you expect that this japanese man is inherently going to have some kind of ugly negative quality that has not been once hinted at canonically? Do you know what that's called? Because i do and it's fucking racism.

You people get scared the moment a character that is a person of color isnt a quiet little model minority or a sweet mammy archetype. You grasp at your pearls the moment they are revealed to have complex personalities and histories; when they feel negative, big emotions that are literally part of the human experience. Or god forbid, when they show romantic interest in a pure, helpless, little white woman.

And when a person of color stops behaving good and docile the way you want, when they decide that theyre not going to put up with a situation that makes them uncomfortable or miserable or RIGHTEOUSLY FURIOUS, they become the bad guy. As seen countless times in the medias demonizing depiction of the Black Lives Matter protests and even of black people who get punished for just living their lives. It happens so often i shouldnt have to reiterate it to you but it somehow keeps flying over your head.

And when that dirty, conniving, perverted, slant eyed, buck toothed, stumpy little japanese man understandably snaps at the white person you guys are projecting onto and all you see is this:

So dont be surprised when i say that id rather kill myself than entrust the safety of my oldest aunts and uncles or my youngest cousins with any of you who act like this. Im terrified of what could have happened if people like you worked at the facility that my great grandmother lived out her final years in. Would you have seen her as a wild animal that needed to be subdued too when she had one of her many dementia-induced violent episode?

I will not apologize for saying that i find it deeply disconcerting to see so many of you happily posting hateful vitriol or even about committing acts of violence against a man that looks like me, solely because he was experiencing his humanity

[themintman]

My opinions on some ships and characters 😼😼😼

Ill explain some stuff in the tags if yall are curious hehe ALSO IN THE REBLOGS. TUMBLR SILENCED ME 😔💔

Template by @stervil !!!

[kakushusband]

Had to make smth today <3 drawing Kaku's pic made me so flustered i was sweating with the ac on and I am not kidding. Also hi, Champagne reveal!

[smengart]

I cannot believe I have to write a post about this in regards to my Utena art, but an account on here called @/familyromantic just reblogged fanart I made of Miki and Kozue as ship art, and they are specifically a blog dedicated to incestuous ships and proshipping.

Of ALL of the art you could reblog of this topic, you choose to reblog non-ship art I made of two CHILDREN who have a deeply troubled and traumatizing relationship with incest in the context of their story, and tag my art as a ship on your blog.

Just to say this explicitly - any proshippers/incest shippers/sexual assault romanticizers/whatever: DO NOT REBLOG MY ART. Especially do not reblog my Utena art. I have already blocked this account so hopefully they won't be able to reblog any more of my Utena pieces, but I felt the need to make this post to establish firmly how I feel about this subject matter. Utena is a very triggering show that includes these topics, and that is unavoidable - what I won't tolerate is anyone who romanticizes and sexualizes these topics to engage with my fanart of the series.

[radioisntdead]

Accidentally stumbled onto the dark side of Tumblr again, DEAR GRACE SOME FOLKS NEED INTENSE THERAPY, or need to stop doing drugs, maybe both, my eyes, my poor, poor eyes, I need a holy water and bleach combo

Also I should watch gravity falls again

[strawberrysweater]

i need to rotate saiibomatsu in my brain at high speeds < already does that every day

[multishipper-baby]

Thinking about soulmate AUs for my OCs because I'm in a romantic mood rn

[staff]

Tumblr! They’re here. Communities are finally here. 

Communities are a new and easy way to connect with the people on Tumblr who get it. You can invite mutuals who share your obsessions to a private Community or start a public Community for the things you love and watch all the new friends pile in. Like a clown car, Communities can fit (almost) as many people in ‘em as you want.

Today, we’re hatching Communities out of their beta shell and launching them at your collective Tumblr experience—for you to enjoy and tinker with as we continue to build them out. We’re talking globally, on web, iOS, and Android. Buckle up, baby. We’re going to be so normal about this.

You can make a Community for just about anything. Art. Gravity Falls. Knitting. Your current D&D campaign. Photography. Obscure ships. The gay people in your phone. Music. Science. Fashion. Design. Baldur’s Gate 3. You’re the wielder of your own destiny. And, thanks to our delightful early testing users, there are already so many for you to join. Hazbin Hotel? Check. Arcane? Check. The Phandom? Check, check, check.

How do you get started? 

You can browse Communities over here. 

Find specific Communities by tapping the Communities tab at the top of the search results page.

Want to create your very own Community? Right this way, maestro.

Here’s a help doc for any questions you might have.

We’re excited to see what you do with this. Go forth, hang out, have fun.