#because they can't afford it. so even if people were on board with this. is just not viable with their audience

[hauntedorpheum]

first time people tell a content creator GIVE US MORE ADS

[russellsppttemplates]

She fits right in (Oscar Piastri)

You meet Oscar's family back home

Note: english is not my first language. I know I said write based on the order you send them in, but this one got priority for obvious reasons! 🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"How long is the layover?", you asked Oscar as you put your backpack on properly once you took off your cardigan since you felt quite hot, "three hours", he replied, "we can go to the lounge and have some food first, freshen up", he suggested.

"Uuuuhh, freshening up in a public bathroom before I meet your parents in your childhood home, charming - you didn't have to make it so easy for me, Osc", you offered, going up to him so he could lace your hand in his and guide you through the airport.

Even you though you had travelled to see a couple of races from the garage, you had always kept inside Europe so long hail flights like this weren't something you were used to. You felt tired, sweaty, a little bit dirty from touching things everywhere and overall not that great. Still, it was a privilege to feel like this because of the reasons you did.

You found yourselves a table and made your order, Oscar staying there while you freshened up in the bathroom. Baby wipes, deodorant, brushing your teeth and washing your face would have to do for now.

"Do you feel a little more human?", he asked you once you sat back down, kissing his cheek soflty as he forwarded you your iced latte.

"Yes, actually I do", you snickered, taking a sip before speaking again, "are you sure your parents are fine with this whole arrangement?", you wondered.

"They're fine with it, you shouldn't be nervous, they already like you", he reassured. You had met his parents briefly when they travelled to see him race in Silverstone, but with the whole event taking up the schedule, you got to know eachother on a somewhat superficial level. Still, if the first impression was that good, it was a nice start.

"I'm not nervous nervous - at least not in the way I think I'd be, but is probably the jet lag and my body can't afford to have a freak out right now", you joked.

The last flight was spent with you sleeping on Oscar, arm rest up while you were cuddled up to his side, head nuzzled on his neck while he watched something to keep himself entertained and not get lost on his thoughts.

His family's opinion mattered to him and he was nervous to truly hear it. Not because of you - he was sure you were going to do brilliantly, but it wouldn't be the first time in history where seeing things up close, whether it was the lifestyle associated or being faced with what staying in a relationship looked like in the long run, made people leave. His parents had met your briefly before and now you were being introduced to everyone else. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, the neighbour he knew growing up. Everyone's eyes would be on you, and so would their opinions.

Rubbing your cheek softly, Oscar coaxed you out of sleep, "we're about to land, gorgeous, you might want to pop your ears", he muttered as you blinked your eyes open, kissing his palm before sitting up straight, doing as he told you before you fixed your hair, "do I look nice enough?", you wondered.

"You always look gorgeous", he assured, kissing your cheek softly.

You boarded off the plane and walked to the customs service, "they're quite quick at this time of year since a lot of people travel foe the race", Oscar explained as you were quickly checked before you walked to baggage claim, getting your suitcases and stopping twice to take photos Oscar's fans asked once they noticed it was him, "we're counting on a good race for you!", they wished as you smiled, handing them the phone back and waving once you walked to the spot Chris said him and Nicole would be waiting for you in the parking lot.

"How was your flight, dears?", Nicole was the first to speak as she embraced her son, followed by Chris.

"It was good, didn't have much turbulence", Oscar said as he saw your mother engulf you in a hug.

"It was nice, yes", you smiled, "very tiring getting to the land down under, I have to admit", you chuckled.

"Oh, that it is! Last time we did it, I felt so dirty I immediately went to the bathroom to shower once we got home", she giggled.

"I might actually do that, if you don't mind - my whole body just feels icky", you admitted, knowing you had arrived at early hours in the morning already and you shouldn't make much noise to the people who wanted to sleep.

"Of course it's fine! C'mon, let's pack the car and head home!", Chris encouraged you as he put the luggage on the car trunk while you got inside the car.

By the time you got home, Nicole encouraged you to head straight for the shower you so much needed while Oscar got something to eat. When you exited the ensuite bathroom, your boyfriend was unpacking his own suitcase.

"If you don't mind, I'll unpack those tomorrow? Or in the morning? What time is it already?", you muttered as he had closed the blinds, leaving the room completely dark with only the bedside lamp on.

"It's fine, love", he smiled, kissing the top of your head, "you smell nice", he chuckled, squeezing your waist softly before he went to have a shower.

Maybe it wasn't the most polite, but this was going to be your room for the next couple of days considering you had flown in early so Oscar could spend as much time as he could with his family, so you undid the bed. The fresh sheets enveloped you as you tied your hair in a messy bun just to get it away from your eyes.

The last thing you remember coherently is Oscar laying next to you, pulling you to cuddle up to him and kissing your forehead sweetly with a "Goodnight, my love".

You woke up a few hours later, looking at your watch and see that it was already past midday and you were in bed, "morning", you heard Oscar's groggy morning voice whisper into your back, littering kisses on your shoulders.

"Hey", you smiled, turning around and seeing his handsome smiley face, "it's the afternoon already", you pointed out.

"It usually is when I wake up after coming back home", he shrugged his shoulders, "my parents are used to it. Also, they said they'd be having lunch at my grandma's, so they're not home - it's probably why it's so quiet".

"Do they want us to meet them there?", you wondered, not wanting to part your boyfriend from his family.

"We can if you don't mind", he added, "you could meet my grandma, too!", he tried to see if you felt comfortable with it.

"Yes! Let me just get ready quickly!", you smiled, pecking his lips and leaving the bed.

"Why so excited?", Oscar asked as you were leaving his parents' house after having something quick to eat and you got your latte.

"You have told me many stories from your grandma and grandma's house is always the best!", you winked at him before you wiggled your brows.

"What do you mean it's always the best?", he quirked a brow.

"Grandma's are the ones who have the best photo collections in the family - C'mon Oscar, it's going to be so fun!", you joined your hands together in a cartoon villain like way, fingertips touching as you made a mischief expression.

"Did Lando set you up for this?", Oscar said as he unlocked the car.

"Yes! The more I get, the more Quadrant hoodies he says he'll get me!", you winked, pulling his arm to the car so he could drive you both to his grandparents' house.

"Can we come in?", Oscar announced as you both walked in through the back door, seeing his parents sat at the table while an older lady was doing something at the kitchen counter.

"Oscar, my love!", she yelled, wiping her hands on the nearest kitchen towell before she threw herself at her grandson, hugging him tightly while you greeted Oscar's parents briefly.

"And this is the young woman who stole Oscar's heart, how are you, sweetheart? You're very welcomed here!", she said, pulling you in for a tight hug immediately.

"I'm Y/N, thank you for welcoming me into your home, it's beautiful", you smiled warmly.

"Have you two had something to eat? I can make you something quickly if you'd like!", she asked and you both shook your head, "I'm good, but thank you".

"I was actually getting ready to make some Lamingtons and some Rum Balls, too. Y/N, has Oscar ever baked them for you?", she mused.

"No, I don't think he has", you looked at him for confirmation as he shook his head, blush erupting on his cheeks, "I would never make them as good as yours!", he defended himself.

"Well, darling, I'm going to make some for you too then!", she smiled.

"I'd love to help if you want a hand, maybe then I'll pester Oscar to make them for me back home", you smiled.

"Oh, good! Let's get started then!", she exclaimed, getting you an apron and guiding you through the recipe.

"You can beat these while I measure the flower", she delegated, "it has to be very fluffy so the sponge is firm enough", she advised as you beat the contents inside the bowl.

"How is that going?", Oscar asked coming up from behind you as you were transferring the batter to the lined tin.

"I need to use the bathroom, dear, but when you finish that, can you put it in the oven and take the other one, please?", she questioned, "this way we'll have a new batch to work with everytime", she smiled before excusing herself.

"How is she really doing with you?", your boyfriend waited for a honest answer.

"It's been really fun, truly! She's been telling me stories about when she was younger and what growing up here was like, she fed me some of those things, those rolled up things", you pointed at the plate on the counter.

"Those are rum balls! Love, you don't even like rum!", he pinched your cheek before you out the tray in the oven.

"I wasn't going to break her heart and tell her no, and they're not that bad! Just not my favourite things ever!", you reasoned with him, wiping your hands on the kitchen towell, "but it's been good, she's very lovely - and I am this close at getting to your baby stories", you pinched your thumb and poster finger together.

"You're impossible", he chuckled, stealing a kiss from your lips before his grandma got back.

"She's a lovely girl, Oscar", his mother said as she sat down next to him on the chair on the decking outside as they saw his father gather the supplies for a barbecue. His grandmother suggested and afternoon barbecue for when you were done with baking.

"I'm very happy I brought her home to meet everyone", Oscar smiled, "she's really one of a kind".

"Is she dealing well with all of this? I'm sure she's not used to it", Nicole wondered, "people taking pictures, interrupting your day to day lives, you're not always there for her", she trailed off.

"Well, neither am I, right?", Oscar chuckled, "I think she's been doing well, we speak about it every now and again to check and make sure we're both well with all of it. We don't post eachother much, that's been helpful, and she has all her social media private".

"It's nice, she's an incredible young woman, and you two are so great together", Nicole complimented.

"I think I was more nervous to come out here than her, to be honest", Oscar said, prompting his mother to raise her eyebrows, "not because of her! I was nervous because she's the first person I've brought home - like, home home - and I didn't know how you would react with her being here and everything. It's not like it's a dinner and she can run away or leave for her own place if she feels uncomfortable or if you guys didn't like her", he trailed off the last part.

His family's opinion mattered to him, and as romantic as it often sounded in movies, he wasn't sure how he would proceed if his family strongly felt against your relationship.

"Well, on our end, we're fine", his mother nudged his shoulder, "she's so lovely, Oscar, you would be a fool if you let her get away from you. She's smart, caring, loving - she fits quite well with grandma", she pointed to you two with her eyes as the older lady taught you how to dip the cake in the chocolate and then the coconut, laughing together as you seemed to get more on your hands than on the actual sweet food, "she loves you dearly, I can tell. Of course we approve. But, if she wants to make a run for it, well - that's going to be a little bit tricky at the very least", she joked as she saw her mother help you with a kitchen towell, "though that doesn't look like it's going to be anytime soon".

You fit right in with his family and he couldn't be happier.

[forsoobado137]

🍨dolly_as_prez Follow

🍨dolly_as_prez Follow

It's been five years since I made this meme and nothing has changed lol

156,932 notes

🧻Dorpblorpw93 Follow

Watching Alfred's short films on youtube are always fucking hilarious because I never know if he's being ironic or not. They all look like they were written produced by an over-caffeinated film student but if they had an actual budget. Like they are legit the funniest pieces of media out there and I have no idea if the comedy is intentional or not.

🏞fromthevalley89 Follow

Where do I begin here? The fact that he basically plays everyone? The fact that he included Arthur but didn't let him play as himself and cast him as bad guys? The fact that he was able to get Roderich and Francois on board with this? The fact that he doesn't even name himself and just puts ME? The fact that the end credits are three times longer than the movie? AND HE LITERALLY CAST HIMSELF AS GOD?! This is peak cinema.

🧭justintime12oclock Follow

Also what is up with Tony? Did Alfred just rotoscope his roommate and make him an alien? is it CGI (Really badly done)?

47,459 notes

🌌galaxylesbian Follow

AGAIN?!

🐝beemybestie Follow

Translation: wahhh wahhh my president won't give me money for Louis Vuitton and my seventh mansion so I'm gonna sit on my ass while the stocks plummet and the trains malfunction 🥺

🌟bugdrinkbugrink Follow

Actual translation: I've literally fought in dozens of wars and bent over backwards for this government and all I get in return is a minimum wage paycheck, demeaning insults from my own politicians, and disrespect from tourists that I'm forced to put up with. I deserve better, and by not working, I'm going to demonstrate how fucked you all would be without me. I hope this opens people's eyes to the lack of rights me and my fellow nations have, and that it will force governments everywhere to actually give a shit.

🌷Azaleyaaaaah02 Follow

Also that mansion thing is such bullshit. The reason nations have so many houses is because they have been ALIVE FOR CENTURIES and they can't just stay in one place forever. Also they have had more than enough time to buy houses when they were cheap and pay off multiple properties. Nations aren't just secretly a bunch of out of touch millionaires. They have been homeless, in debt, and have lived in far worse conditions than you could ever imagine.

🌟bugdrinkbugrink Follow

For everyone trying to call nations "selfish" for going on strike because it has negative effects on their countries, that is literally THE ENTIRE POINT OF STRIKES. World leaders think that all nations do is look pretty and die over and over in petty wars. In the THREE DAYS that France (and other European countries) went on strike back in 1976, the stock market plummeted, trade slowed, transportation stopped working, and other citizens stopped going to work. The leaders realized pretty quickly that they fucked up. After they got better wages, the nations returned, and everything was up and running again.

Moral of the story: PAY YOUR NPS A LIVING WAGE! These people have literally sacrificed everything for their nations. So what if France wants to be able to afford iconic French fashion brands? If I was an immortal being who died thousands of times in mankind's worst wars, you better BELIEVE I would demand that I can afford to treat myself.

41,246 notes

[rafeandonlyrafe]

defending you (sfw version)

words: 1.6k

warnings: mentions of violence

taglist: @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450

nsfw version!

"rafe!" you yell, relieved to see him standing out on his dock. it looks like he's sorting through something in a box.

"rafe!" you yell again, waiting for him to hear you, but you know the sound of the whipping wind is carrying your voice in the opposite direction. 

rafe stands, and turns back towards tannyhill. "rafe!" you yell again, and he finally turns, having heard not exactly his name, but an unexpected sound from the water.

"y/n?" rafe screams, his face going pale seeing you swimming towards the dock.

"rafe." you smile, relieved to finally be done with your long swim.

"what are you doing?" rafe rushes towards the ladder as you begin to climb up, legs and arms weak. "the water is freezing and there's a storm coming in."

"i know." you shiver as you pull yourself onto the dock, with help from rafe. you can't even stand as your legs crumble. "i was paddleboarding before the storm came and someone came and knocked me off my board and took it and my paddle. i swam here because it was closest." 

you're kind of friends with rafe. he's never been mean or rude to you like you hear other people say, but there's a certain awkward tension when he's around.

you're not rich enough to be a kook but not poor enough to be a pogue, leaving you in a weird middle ground that you kind of love, getting accepted into both groups parties.

it's a party where you first met rafe. your kook friends all tried to convince you that he liked you, that he's been watching you the whole party, but whenever you looked his way, he was quick to advert his stare.

you became friends with his sister sarah quickly, and eventually began sleeping over at her house, using it as a safe haven especially when your parents would fight. rafe always found some sort of way to be involved in whatever you were doing with sarah, inviting himself out to the movies, or to get ice cream.

"who took your board?" rafes eyes flash with anger, the kind all the pogues tell you he's capable of, but that you haven't seen for yourself.

"kelces friend. i don't know his name. that blonde guy."

"topper?" rafe questions.

"no, no. that new guy. family just moved into that blue house."

"luke?" rafe practically spits his name out.

"yeah, him." you nod, and a shiver racks through your body. the water was frigid, but thankfully your hard swimming kept you from freezing. it's only now, on the dock with the harsh wind, that you feel the real chill.

"hold on, let me get you a towel." rafe runs onto the nearest boat, flipping open a seat and grabbing the fluffiest, most warm looking towel he sees.

rafe helps you stand and wraps the towel around you, pulling you into his arms to warm you up even more.

"what kind of boat was he driving?" rafe asks.

you don't want to talk, or think, just want to lay with your head against rafes chest and soak up his warmth, but you're eventually able to mutter out, "a black speedboat. i don't know more than that, it all happened so fast." truth was, you knew it was an expensive brand, way beyond anything your family would be able to afford, so you had no clue what it was.

"and he just came and knocked you off?" rafe curses himself as soon as he says it, because it sounds like he doesn't believe you, but really he just wants to get the story straight before he beats this guy to a pulp.

"yeah." you sniffle. "he made a huge wake that made me fall off, and then he just came along next to me and grabbed my board and paddle before i could get back on."

"y/n?" you hear your name called and turn and look down the dock, at mr. cameron.

you step out of rafes arms, suddenly aware of how it looks.

"hi, sir." you say as he walks closer.

"don't tell me you were swimming in this weather." it is unseasonably cold in the outer banks.

"not intentionally." you shake your head. "someone knocked me off my paddleboard and they took it. i swam here because it was closest."

mr. cameron looks at his son, and rafe gives a stern nod, a silent conversation happening that youre not privvy to.

"im gonna go get your board back for you, y/n." rafe says, effortlessly grabbing the boat keys his father tosses to him.

"rafe, i don't expect you to do that."

"we look out for our own here, yeah?" rafe says, hand coming to your face. you think he's going to rest a hand on your cheek, but his hand flinched and he pushes a stray hair behind your ear.

"thank you." you say with a tight swallow of your throat.

"ill be back, you go inside and warm up, okay?" rafe says, stepping back towards the boat. you nod, a weird feeling twisting in your stomach as you watch rafe going to defend you, going to get back what's yours.

you follow mr. cameron to the house, thankful as soon as you step in the door to be out of the wind.

"do you mind if i shower?" you ask, glad the wind had dried you a little to not be dripping throughout the whole house.

"of course not, let me take you there." mr. cameron loops through the huge house. you swear that you get lost every time you come here, only knowing the way from the front door up to sarahs room.

you meet rose halfway to your destination, and mr. cameron quickly explains the situation. she gives you a quick hug, apologizing for what happened. you're thankful you're already comfortable with them after spending time at the house with sarah.

mr. cameron leads you to a room with an attached bathroom, telling you he'll leave some clothes on the bed for you and then you can watch tv until rafe gets back. you thank him for the hospitality and head into the bathroom.

--

you're sitting on the bed, snuggled in under the covers, when the door suddenly opens. 

"rafe." you breath out, hopping out of the bed to go to him. he's soaking wet from the rain that came in from the storm, but he has a proud gleam in his eye.

"i got your board back." rafe says. "and that asshole won't mess with you anymore."

you gulp, hoping that just means rafe gave him a stern talking to, but as you look down at his knuckles, you can tell it's not true.

"rafe!" you gasp, grabbing his hand and lifting it up. his knuckles are red and look bruised.

"it's alright." he goes to shake his hand out of your grasp when he suddenly freezes.

"youre wearing my shirt." rafe says. you look down. you just put on whatever clothes mr. cameron had left for you. 

"i-" you're unsure if he's expecting an apology.

"in my clothes, in my room." rafe mutters, looking back towards the bed.

"i thought this was a guest room." you look around, realizing now that there are way too many personal items around for this to be a guest room, and that mr. cameron had led you to rafes room.

"it's no big deal." rafe says, this time putting his hand onto your cheek, rubbing it gently. it's cold from being outside but still warms you.

"i put your board in our shed. it'll be safe there for now. you're staying here though, the storms really bad right now." rafe says, backing you up further into the room and closing the door behind him.

"thank you but i don't want to impose." you shake your head.

"im not letting you leave in these conditions." rafe says. "now get back in bed and keep watching your show. i need to shower."

there's a new confidence in rafe that's shining even brighter than normal, and you wonder if it's the act of defending you that's caused it. you feel compelled to do whatever he says, so you nod your head and slip back under the covers, watching as rafe grabs a few items of clothing out of the dresser before heading into the bathroom. 

the lull of the shower and the tv show you've seen a million times makes you feel the exhaustion of the long swim. your head rests against the pillows, and you don't even realize you've fallen asleep until you hear the bathroom door close.

you sit up to see rafe standing there with a smirk on his face, your eyes dragging down his bare torso, to where he's only wearing a pair of basketball shorts.

you have to hold yourself back from drooling at his broad shoulders.

"didn't mean to wake you." rafe says, stepping closer as if he's going to climb into bed with you.

"that's okay." you whisper, suddenly feeling small.

"can i lay down? keep you company for the night?" you aren't sure what rafes definition of 'keeping company' is, but you nod anyways.

rafe smiles again and you feel your last bit of apprehension melt away.

rafe gets under the covers, and you sit there awkwardly for a few seconds before you lean over, placing your lips against his. it's a quick kiss, not even enough time for him to truly reach.

"thank you for defending me." you say.

"ill do anything for you." rafe says honestly, placing a hand on the back of your head and pulling you in for another kiss, this one much stronger than the last.

[dindjarindiaries]

You reblogged that starter list and before I even saw your message, this one SCREAMED Din to me:

❛ if i could be a different person, i promise you, i would be.

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompt: "If I could be a different person, I promise you, I would be."

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

You looked up at the expanse of stars overhead and let out a soft breath. The slight sting of the night's chilled air nipped at your nose, but the way it filtered through your lungs felt relieving. This was the open air; it was much more freeing than the ship you had started to feel trapped within.

It was that ship's boarding ramp you were sitting on, and as you took a quick glance over your shoulder, you saw its owner watching you from within the cargo hold with a worried tilt to his silver helmet. Having been caught in the act, his armored chest rose and fell in a breath as he started to walk towards you. Your gaze returned to the sky above as you sensed his approach.

"I thought you were charting another course," you said as Din took his place alongside you. "We can't spend too much time here."

Din shrugged in your periphery. "An extra rotation won't hurt."

Your head snapped towards him as your lips parted in disbelief. "A rotation?"

Din's visor was stuck on the stars, but after a moment of you staring, he returned your disbelieving glance. "What?"

You chuckled and shook your head, returning your attention to the night sky. You closed your eyes as your heart began to beat more rapidly. The question you wanted to ask screamed within your mind, but it came out as a mere whisper. "Why?"

There was a pause before Din responded. "Why what?"

You reopened your eyes and kept them on the stars. Looking at Din would make you lose your resolve. "Why are you bending your rules?"

When Din remained silent for a long moment, you quickly glanced over at him. His visor was fixed on his gloved hands as he picked the orange-colored material on his fingertips. "We can afford the time, for now." When he continued, his modulated voice was even lower than before. "And you're happy here."

You furrowed your brow at him. "I'm happy regardless."

Din gave his helmet a brief tilt. "Sure. But..." he paused, as if musing upon something, "not like you are on planets like this one."

You didn't know what to say to that. The sweet inhale of the crisp air you took was enough to prove his words true. As you continued to stare somewhat dumbfounded at Din, he added more.

"You don't like being on the ship."

You instantly shook your head and willed the words to come, but they wouldn't. Your throat had closed up around your wildly beating heart as the truths you tied to each atrium and ventricle came closer and closer to freeing themselves.

Din took your silence as a much more disappointing reality. Even his modulator couldn't hide his hurt. "You don't like being with me."

"No." You couldn't have gotten the word out faster if you'd tried. "That's not true."

"It's okay. I understand." Din's arm rested upon his propped-up knee as he looked at the stars yet again. You watched his visor reflect them with fond admiration. "My lifestyle isn't meant to keep people around for long." He nodded, as if he was still convincing himself of such a truth. "I've grown used to it."

His words, a genuine and honest reflection of himself, shattered your heart enough to let the shards escape through the barrier your throat had attempted to create. Each beautiful truth began to spill out in a stained glass mosaic of the image you had crafted over the past few months. "Yet I'm still here."

That caught Din's attention. His visor found your gaze as you pieced your art together.

"I've felt trapped, yes, but not by you or your ship." You exhaled and watched your hand as you set it on the metal of the ramp beside you. It was just inches from Din's own. "It's a feeling. One that consumes me, really. And while it's centered on you, it's not because of you that I feel so trapped. That's only because I know the truth. I know your guard has to stay up."

You huffed and shook your head at yourself.

"It sounds ridiculous to say out loud, honestly, but... you deserve to know." The corners of your mouth pulled up in a sad smile. "Even if there's nothing you can do about it."

Din's visor never left you as he sat in the heavy silence that followed. Eventually, his visor lowered, his focus moving to his gloved hand as it closed the distance to your own. Only part of his hand covered yours on the boarding ramp as he spoke in the most beautifully honest tone you had ever heard from him. "If I could be a different person, I promise you, I would be."

You shook your head, your gaze also fixed on your hands as you did so. "If you were any different, you wouldn't be the person I've grown such feelings for."

You were delicate in the way you laced your fingers through his, allowing him to pull away at any point if he so wished. He made no such move, instead letting his armored chest rise and fall in a careful breath as your hands became fully entwined. After a few more quiet moments, he spoke up once again. "I can learn."

You looked back up at his visor and hoped your expression wasn't betraying your strong glimmer of hope. Din offered a determined nod.

"I will learn."

Your smile couldn't be stopped as you looked upon him much more favorably than you ever had the stars. "Yeah?"

Din nodded once more, resting your entwined hands on his armored thigh. "Yeah."

[little-fairy-forest]

Stitches of love

-> bakugo x fem! Reader

-> domestic, fluff, romance, she / her

-> reader finds herself going crazy over what to get her mitsuki for motherday, little does she know she had a helping hand all along.

"Katsuki please just give me some ideas what to get her" y/n pleaded as she rests her head in her hands. The list infront of her started back as she scratches out all her ideas so far on what to get her mother in law for her birthday. Jewellery? No she had so much, a holiday? Seems like a large present for your first year as her official daughter in law, home made jam?–

"She'd love anythin' if you gave it to 'er" Katsuki grumbles as he sips his coffee staring at y/n. They both knew he was right, y/n could give mitsuki a lump of dirt and She'd be so greatful you'd swear it was a lump of gold. But if katsuki gave it to her? He'd never hear the end of how thoughtless it was...

"What are you getting her? Surely you've ran out of ideas aswell?" Y/n rubs her face in defeat as she realises she only has 3 days to find a present. The clock is ticking, especially since you have to buy it, wrap it, and pray its good enough.

"Got her and the old man tickets to that candle lit concert in Tokyo, gotta meal for them aswell before the show" katsuki says as it's the most obvious thing ever... because everyone can afford to get expensive tickets to a private showing of the Tokyo orchestra at candlelight. Y/n huffs as she moves herself away from the table, frustrated as her plans were coming to a dead-end. Katsuki shrugs as suggests they can share the present as that wouldn't be a problem, but for y/n , she wanted her own present for her own mother in law.

"Back to the drawing board"

2 days to go

The dim lights of the lamp cascade over y/n as she tries to pull out another knott that's found its way into the ball of yarn.

"Stupid thing, why are the strings so thin–"

"Why are you still awake?" Katsuki emerges from the kitchen, peeping his head into the living room to find his wife tangled in balls of yarn, frustrated at the pattern in front of her. Who know making a blanket was so difficult?

"I can't figure the pattern out, why is knitting so hard katsu! Why do people do this to relax"

"Cuz old hags have all the time in the world to do that stuff, now get your ass to bed"

The small half-arsed square that was meant to be a blanket falls flat into y/ns lap as she realises this was another failed attempt at a present for mitsuki. The blanket would've had to of been perfect, can't give a seamstress a rag and pass it off as a blanket made out of love. What symbol would that give?

"Stupid yarn"

1 day to go

The perfect way to a person's heart is through their stomach, is that how the saying goes? Doesn't matter! Either way you found yourself 3 cakes deep into perfecting this stupid old recipe. katuki claims " the old hags loves "... but why is it so hard to master the recipe?

Many hours into baking whatever is in the oven, because there's no way you can even call the lumpy mess a 'cake'. Katsuki takes over as he cannot let anything to be made in his kitchen be considered inedible. You watched as katsuki whipped around the kitchen, making dinner and cleaning up the mess you made. What are you going to do now? The deadline is near, and you've nothing to bring to the dinner tomorrow for mitsuki?

Great way to impress your mother in law

"Listen, she won't care if you've nothin in your hands sweets, trust" Katsuki says to distract you from your storming thoughts.

"I just don't know what to do babe, I've tried so many ideas. I don't have to give up but what choice do I have–"

"Quit your ramblin and go wash up before dinner," katsuki cuts your rambles with instructions. He knows it's best to distract you if you're having working thoughts.

You make your way to the bathroom to wash up before dinner. Your head is still flooded with last minute ideas of presents to give mistuki.

"Where's all the soap gone? Why doesn't katsuki refill the container when it's empty? Typical" you say, reaching into the press to grab and refill the soap dispenser. You make a quick note of things you need to get in the shops before you go to dinner tomorrow as you're almost out of some essentials.

As you rummage through the bathroom cabinet, your fingers brush against a small, inconspicuous box tucked behind some toiletries. Curiosity piqued, you retrieved it, your heart quickening as you read the label. With a mixture of trepidation and hope, you take a gamble with this last chance of a home made present.

Birthday dinner

Mistuki has been filling yous in on her latest fashion looks she has been in the process of designing since last spring. Masaru has just set down the tea post dinner as you've all settled into the sitting room to unwind after that very tasty dinner katsuki scrubbed up. Who knew your man was so kind?

"Here's your present ma..." katsuki sheeply hands over his gift knowing his mother will make a deal out of the concert he has gotten her tickets for. You watch as mistuki stumbles over with glee as she hugs? Katsuki and thanks him. You haven't seem them hug since you had gotten married!

Masaru thanks katsuki for getting him a ticket also, placing the present aside waiting for the two blonds to settle down.

" it's something small, hope we can all share this special present" you hint towards the box you hand over to mitsuki. Katsuki looks at you knowingly you done fucked up the blanket and the cake, so what did you get her?

Mistuki opens the box to find a tiny baby blanket you had hand knitted from the rags you started with, paired with a tiny test signaling your little life growing within.

Mistuki stumbles over the test, clarifying with you that what she is reading really is coming true!

"YOUR PREGNANT?!"  She gleams as she jumps from her seat shuffling over to hug you. Katsuki looks at you with hope in his eyes, why hadn't you told him?!

"Yes , I hope this trumps katsuki present mistuki" you hug Mistuki back as masaru looks into the box reading the little note beside the blanket

"Cant wait to snuggle you in this blanket made out of love, sweat and tears,

Love, baby bakugo due 2X25"

Yep. You've finally outdone your husband in gift giving.

Now how will you out do Masarus birthday..

What did I just write...

Ew

[sassypantsjaxon]

Okay, quick disclaimers: 1. I know some people don't like Horikoshi's worldbuilding, would say there's a lack of depth, etc, etc. I'm not one of those people, I just see it as my chance to overanalyze and fill in the gaps myself for these kind of headcanon/theory/whatever you want to call this post. 2. This post will briefly touch on my own personal headcanons of Mic being an orphan and Aizawa being a rich kid.

Okay! all that being said, I'm just going to throw some things at the wall about my own thoughts/headcanons about the world Mic and Aizawa grew up in, and you guys can let me know if anything sticks.

You ever think about how All Might is around 25 years older than Mic and Aizawa?

Given that he left Japan as a teenager and went to college in America, he probably came back and started becoming the Symbol of Peace in Japan in his early-mid twenties.

Mic and Aizawa would have been part of the first generation of kids who have never known a world without All Might

Like. Think about that. They would have grown up in a world that is just beginning to recover from the horrors (as compared to the relatively deceptively safe society we see at the beginning of the series)

Hizashi grows up in an orphanage with a lot of older kids who were orphaned by villain attacks and...not so many kids younger than him. Which is good for them, but kind of lonely for a kid like Zashi

There's a wall around the orphanage that is supposed to be for protecting them, but as villain activity decreases, it just starts to feel like it's keeping the kids in

Hizashi becomes a hero because he knows nobody else is going to save him

Shouta grows up in a high security gated community

He's always wanted to be a hero, and he's always been told it's pointless, because All Might will have eradicated villainy by the time Shouta's an adult this is of course a lie

part of the tragedy of Oboro's death is that they've heard their whole lives how large scale villain attacks like that are a thing of the past

They would have had drills for what to do in case of villain attacks when they were little kids starting school. These would have slowly been phased out by the time they were in middle school

Another thing that's changed since they were kids is the architecture

No more burned down, bombed out buildings that just sit around because there's no point rebuilding something that will just be destroyed again in a few weeks. No more business that are still open, but the windows are boarded up because they can't afford to keep replacing the glass

No more graffitied walls and fences and gates. No more anti-villain spikes on top of buildings and around cities

And all of these things disappeared so slowly that it's like one day when they're in highschool, they just look around and realize they don't exist anymore and wonder where it all went and when it happened

There was probably a population boom as All Might started to cement his place as the Symbol of Peace. People realizing their kids would have a safer world to grow up in and they didn't have to fear dying every other minute

People moving out of the safety of the cities back into more rural areas

actually hang on. that would kind of explain the racism and bigotry we know exists in the rural regions

this was supposed to be more about mic and aizawa and now i'm just spitballing worldbuilding sorry.

Mic and Aizawa are kind of in this weird inbetween of the fourth generation of quirk users, who grew up fully in the horrors of quirk wars, and the fifth generation, who grew up in the era of All Might and it's all just the past to them

Because even though they didn't exactly live it themselves, they did still see the direct effects of it

And that's the horror of this new war, because their students had been living the peace Mic and Aizawa were promised as children

[yinastra]

✩ The Waves Overhead ✩

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

Freminet x gn!reader

Summary: Freminet has had an imaginary friend since he was little.

A/N: Can be romantic or platonic.

CWs: Heavy angst

TW: Suicide, death, self harm, eating disorder, starvation, PTSD, delusions, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

Freminet has always been a quiet boy. Met with conversation, he retreats back into his shell, locking his heart away.

He'd like to open up to people, to trust them, but how could he?

Instead, he enjoys sitting by Fontaine's 'sea' in their company.

They conversate for hours on end, the only divider being the setting sun and the dawn's light.

Even then, they are with him everywhere he goes.

In his dreams, in his heart, in his memories:

he wouldn't have it any other way, of course.

This person understands him so well- it could even be considered uncanny.

Nothing seemed real without them by his side.

Real?

They were real.

He'd take walks with them by the shoreline.

How strange was it that nothing was clear anymore?

When did all the shade blend together?

All the colors mushed into each other.

This was real.

This was reality.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

Freminet has always had an imaginary friend.

Ever since he was little, there's always been someone by his side.

Someone he felt he could speak to freely, someone he depended on.

Someone who got him through the days.

Starving to the bone.

The days where his mother couldn't afford to buy them food, so she instead tucked him in extra tightly into the small, handmade quilt, telling him that the next day would have something to fill his empty stomach.

The days he'd cry in bed because his mother didn't come home that day. He was always so afraid for her, what if she never came back? What if the debt collectors─

There they were.

His light, his beacon of hope.

The person he'd talk to about all his problems, he'd even forget his hunger when he spoke to them.

The person who'd reassure him through everything. It wasn't all in his imagination, he swore!

They listened. They replied. They helped.

Freminet has always had an imaginary friend.

Everyone always thought it was delusion. It wasn't. He knew. How could he ever speak to another person?

Person.

They were a person.

He knew them.

They knew him.

He swore it.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The hunger ate away at him, even now.

He could eat whenever he wanted now, but he couldn't.

He couldn't bring himself to fill his stomach─ it made him feel sick.

The days where he couldn't eat anything, they had lasted for so long.

So, so long.

Food no longer looked appetizing. He could barely deign to put it into his mouth, the texture making him want to puke it all up.

He used to be so excited to eat food– to be able to eat food consecutively, days in a row. It used to be an occasion worthy of celebration. But now? Now he can't..

He can't stomach food. He can't eat it continuously.

He'll throw up any food he eats on the second day in a two day cycle.

That's how it became after–

What he saw?

No, no.

What he didn't see.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The waves swallowed him up.

Falling into the serene "sea", he found himself lost in his mind. His thoughts echoed off of the sides of his helmet.

The dark.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

That bright, bright day. He had just fixed an old broken clock they had. His mother sold it, and they ate that day! Two days in a row, a true gem.

He walked to the house by the shore. The small shack looked desolate, the windows boarded.

His imaginary friend's home.

His imaginary friend.

He opens the door.

The small, tattered couch was in the corner, the small coffee table and lamp accompanying the atmosphere.

Dark.

Had they gotten some new type of decor? How interesting, he thought.

How interesting, that their friend's hair hung onto the motionless dummy's scalp.

How interesting, that their favorite shirt clung onto the dummy's body just like he remembered.

How interesting, that it had their eyes─ dull, of course.

Laughable. Hysterical. That wasn't his friend.

His friend's eyes were bright. As bright as the ocean underneath the sunlight, as the light reflected.

His light.

His hope.

This "decor" was much too cool to the touch.

Cold.

This was not them, it couldn't be.

It wasn't, he said.

It wasn't.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅

The water's motions return him back from his memories.

The coolness of his surroundings chills him.

He makes his way back to the surface.

There was the house on the shore.

He swore it was a person. He swore they were real.

He drags his heavy feet to the entrance, turning the door knob.

The couch was there. It was real.

It was...

He sits down on it, a wave of familiarity rushing over him.

The coolness of the seat, the hard back.

The seat had to have been covered with dust with how grainy it felt. Even like..

dirt.

He lightly traced the carvings on the stone-hard, gray back.

Their name and a date engraved on the stone.

There was a tree outside of the window, he remembered it well.

He looks up, tracing the stars.

The stars looked different.

Blobs of faint light, burning out constantly.

Running his hand along the branch above that couch.

He'd sat by that couch for hours before.

That..

couch?

That was right.

That couch.

The distorted grey shape behind him.. the one he leaned on.

It was the couch.

Really.

It was.

The coarse rope beneath his fingertips give him a feeling of Déjà vu.

He'd just hang here for a while.. right?

Yeah. That's right. He'll stay here to watch the sea.

Next to them.

Where they'll meet again.

Under the waves overhead.

[ykiwrite]

i'm not in love

[bad] description: Wednesday pays you a visit in school

"And this is how you do differential equations guys. Any questions? Do i need to explain it again?" asked the professor of your beloved subject math, sarcastically of course.

"No, no we get it" shouted the entire class collectively already ready to leave in hopes of finishing earlier than intended despite understanding close to nothing before being interrupted by a gem amongst stones.

"Yes, actually can you repeat that part where…"

At that very moment you and every single being in that room let out a disappointed and annoyed sigh. Muffling out every noise surrounding you along with your vision going dark as you rested your head between folded arms acting as a pillow. Might as well take a rest since your phone died meaning no music, no music meaning no other options left except sleep to pass the time.

The bell rang and you were pretty sure everyone right now wished to be people speeding down the hallway heading out. 

"Guys, silence please. Listen to me for a minute, this is very important which i forgot to mention. We'll finish quickly and you got your break."

His rambling, although you were detached from everything could be present up until it got quiet out of the blue. Raising your head and adjusting your vision wondering what's the reason behind the silence until you spotted the reason and made eye contact with it.

Quite impossible to miss the one and only, from head to toe wrapped in black Wednesday, your Wednesday Addams.

"I am sorry for interruption sir, i considered since the bell rang the class is over therefore i may come in."

"Well uh, yes you can but i didn't finish my lecture yet."

"Would you mind if i were to take a seat in the back of the class until it's finally over? I planned on waiting for someone from this class in front of the school but your lectures allegedly prolonged."

"Yes of course, go ahead." said the man whose voice you swore was trembling at one point as he turned around to bring a lecture to an end. "Where were we?", hand hovering above the board pointlessly moving in circles in order to remember. Great, now she even confused him which will make this even longer.

As Wednesday made her way to you, swiftly moving in between rows of desks and chairs people kept turning around once they were out of her vision. Both peripheral and the center one, it's better to play it safe.

"I see how you pay attention in class." was her first words of the day spoken to you when she sat next to your empty seat. Looking at your as well empty white notebook page you couldn't defend yourself.

"Wow, not even a hi and how are you for your beloved girlfriend?" you said faking a disappointed flat tone. "Besides, what are you doing here? I can already see 90% of people in this class won't sleep tonight because of you. I can't afford to pay for therapy bills." 

"That's entirely not my problem. The reason i visited is because Enid told me you didn't answer her text messages." 

(That definitely was not the reason but you let it slide)

"You mean your text messages? I know when you use her phone, Enid doesn't use proper grammar. It screams 'Wednesday'. Also my phone died so that's why."

"Hmmm" she muttered looking you dead in the eye as if interrogating with hope you will break and confess. "I'll take that as an excuse."

"Okay but what about the real reason you're here?" You said giving her a playful smile.

"What are you implying?"

"Just say you wanted to see me so, oh so desperately. It's normal, nothing to be ashamed of. Couples do that in case this is your first time hearing about it." You gave her a wink knowing it will make her roll eyes.

"Dude, is this your friend?" ruined the moment by a guy sitting in front of you that was quiet up until now, unfortunately.

"I mean-"

"I'm the girlfriend. Why?" 

Seeing both of your sour faces he was brave enough to push forward "Listen, i always had a thing for like goth girls so i was wondering if you're free but since you two-"

"Alright guys, class is finally over. I apologize for making you stay longer, i'll make it up to you by shortening next class. See you tomorrow and have a good day."

All of the class shuffling drowned out his attempt for a small talk as both Wednesday and you thanked whatever is lurking out there for cutting it short. Wednesday was visibly close to falling apart from that interaction and it's for the best you leave as soon as possible to prevent any unwanted injuries. Clearly on behalf of the guy.   Eventually getting through the crowd and out in open felt like a wish come true.

"Looook, it's snowing right? The first one this year" you commented eagerly while looking around the sky that's getting darker and darker by each second.

"It's just snow." looking over to your side she feels like you shapeshifted into a child in those few seconds she looked away. She wasn't familiar with this type of werewolves but there's a first time for everything.

"It's also Wednesday today! It must be a sign." you claimed.

"Sign for what?" asked Wednesday completely clueless.

"Oh you know, the "first snow" traditions." quoting with your hands.

"The first snow traditions? If it's something coming from the things you read on the internet or you and Enids highly intelligent conversations-"

"No it's not! It says you're supposed to kiss the loved one on the first snowfall of the year." Looking back to her, asking you "Really?" just above a whisper. She was still wary but how could she not trust you. It's you after all.

Taking a deep breath in she turned to you fixing your winter hat and dusting of snow that has fallen, hands naturally finding their own path down to your face as she allowed herself to relax around you. 

"This better be true" merely an inches of space between two of you. In fact, she wouldn't mind if it weren't the truth.

time skip

"You lied."

"About what are we talking about?"

"About the snow tradition. I can't believe i had to hear it from Enid and her computer that there is no concrete evidence behind the snowfall and a kiss." said Wednesday bringing up your last weeks made up fact.

"And what are you complaining about exactly?" provided no answer. You won against Wednesday, congratulations. 

notes: for the sake of the story pretend you don't attend Nevermore and Wednesday can roam around freely (also no offense for math lovers)

fun fact also: i accidentally deleted this after writing it for hours i almost deleted the app

[alaynestone]

not to be overly applying real life concepts to a silly cw show lol but there's also something very perfect-victimy about the way people dismiss dean's victimhood vs sam's. like because dean's sarcastic or represses a lot of emotion or something people dismiss the things he went through. like obviously HE wants to forget about it and pretend it didn't happen, that's the point! but why are so many people dumb enough to hop right on board with that and literally erase/ignore things that happened to dean in the show (oftentimes in favor of pretending they happened to sam instead lol)... idk it's just a very weird thing that makes me feel protective of dean's character and what he represents in a way i don't usually with fictional characters. i love sam too but some of the samgirls or whatever take on a very cutting and aggressive tone that's slightly upsetting sometimes ngl. it just feels weirdly personal, not even at dean as much as like. anyone who dares to relate to dean as a character

i happen to think this "silly cw show" is actually far better at depicting complex trauma than people give it credit for.

but yeah, you are spot on here. it's absolutely about creating a perfect victim in sam and hyperfocusing on that while throwing nuance and context out the window entirely. even going all the way back to their childhood where dean is held fully responsible for the ways he responded to john's abuse by adapting rather than rebelling. dean is either considered responsible for his own situation or not a victim at all. he "liked" it, he perpetuated the "cycle", he was a lost cause, he was inferior to sam (and people loooove being classist about this, they think they're comedians) etc. which of course is NOT AT ALL the narrative presented to us by the show and erases the fascinating ways the brothers' arcs were paralleled throughout the seasons. for example, in season 2 you have dean only starting to confront the million ways john messed him up when he's not around anymore, just as sam is confronting his own destiny. the show explicitly links these two things yet dean is somehow generally viewed as the brother who's in charge of his own life. dean, who was controlled by his father until he was 27 and already in 1x11 admitting to sam that he admired him for making his own choices. i can't stress enough how "the one and only victim sam who completely lacks autonomy" is a fandom invention. and for what?

what you said about feeling protective of dean i think has always been part of his appeal. sam always had dean looking out for him, dean had no one. sam, even at his lowest, fundamentally valued himself and his own personhood, dean could never afford to because the survival of his family was up to him. he never coddled himself or let himself off the hook for a single perceived failure and i'm supposed to pile on? nah. his anger is so explosive in later seasons because he was never free to express his own feelings growing up and go through the regular stages teenagers and young adults do. i think there's a big effort to erase these nuances because if the actual story is taken into account, then it's impossible to forget how much dean went through so sam wouldn't have to. that sadly also ignores the impact it had on their relationship with dean's buried resentment towards sam, as well as sam's guilt for not always being there for dean in return. nearly every terrible traumatic thing sam experienced over the duration of the show is something dean had experienced already. at my most cynical, i think the purpose of reframing dean as this all powerful oppressor is because sam can only win the trauma olympics if dean is no longer vulnerable at all, no longer dean. and yes the trauma olympics approach is pointless, but if they're gonna insist on going there first, i'm not gonna hold back.

i mentioned sam's flinching and how it's valued as a trauma response compared to dean's anger but the thing is...before the cage, sam used to rage at dean and the entire world. his own anger nearly ate him up which he acknowledges multiple times. yet again, back when dean was fresh out of hell and sometimes genuinely freaked out by sam, including when he flinched at sam using his powers, it's still perceived as dean being cruel and abusive to sam. if sam feels bad about the moral implications and consequences of his actions it's because dean won't instantly get over it and support him. if dean doesn't trust him, it must be dean's fault alone. sam is the only one whose pov is taken into consideration and the only one whose feelings can be hurt. so it is a perfect victim thing but also about how only one of them gets to lash out and be vindictive and messy and remain sympathetic and good. essentially, sam gets to be a person but dean can only ever be sam's own personal giving tree.

it's classic fandom woobification with the childish "my fave can do no wrong" rhetoric, but since it's 2024 it's now hidden behind words like autonomy/cycles/abuse and passed around as objective analysis.

[archiveikemen]

"Luxury Cruise Invitation*" Story Event: 95K Bonus Story

*EN Title: "A First-Class Ticket to Dangerous Seas"

Ellis Twilight

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Thank you to @candied-boys for providing me with the story !

Maid: Miss. Look, what a magnificent luxury cruise ship!

Docked in front of me was a luxury cruise about to embark on a wonderful journey. And yet, my heart remained clouded.

During the journey, I was to be introduced to a suitor my parents had chosen for me, and be forced to marry him.

(Making me meet him onboard a ship so that I can't escape… what bad taste.)

Poorly Dressed Young Man 1: Whee! Ellis, you got so lucky at poker that you won tickets to board the cruise.

(...?)

When I turned my head in the direction of the lively voices, I saw a group of young men gathered together and chatting away.

Poorly Dressed Young Man 2: But you were seriously out of your mind for betting your entire life’s fortune back there.

Young Man Called ‘Ellis’: … Is that so?

Young Man Called ‘Ellis’: I did that because I had nothing to lose.

Kate: …

Maid: How unpleasant… people who can’t even afford third-class tickets are allowed onboard the ship.

Maid: You must never go near them, Miss. You’re an important lady.

Crew: The luxury cruise ship Orellus will be departing soon!

A whistle sounded as soon as we boarded the ship, and it started its smooth journey over the sea.

…

And as the ship sailed, the surroundings gradually turned dark—.

(... I should go to dinner as soon as possible. My fiancé must be waiting for me.)

But however hard I tried, my heart wouldn't listen. Thus, I found myself standing at the bow of the cruise, looking out at the sea below.

(I’ve always wanted to experience being truly in love with someone.)

(I want to be loved that way too.)

And yet, that simple dream of mine was about to be crushed that night.

(I shouldn't be selfish. Everything will be alright, I just have to put up with this.)

(If I give up and accept my fate, all will be well…)

Just as I was about to toss my feelings into the depths of the pitch-dark sea,

???: … Hey.

(...?)

Someone grabbed me by the wrist and I turned around—.

???: If you stick your body out too much, you might fall into the sea and get swept away.

(Oh, it’s him.)

– Flashback Start –

Young Man Called ‘Ellis’: I did that because I had nothing to lose.

– Flashback End –

Standing there was the man I saw before boarding the cruise, I heard that his name was “Ellis”.

Kate: I’m sorry, I was too occupied by my thoughts… erm.

Ellis: Someone was looking for you.

Ellis: I think… she was a maid.

(Oh no. I must go, I kept everyone waiting.)

Kate: I have to leave. Well then—

Ellis: Are you alright?

Kate: …?

Ellis: Are you alright with this?

Kate: … Huh?

Ellis: I mean, you’re wearing an expensive dress on a luxurious ship. And yet, you don’t look very happy.

Kate: I don’t look happy?

Ellis: Yeah. Um, let me rephrase that.

Ellis: You look very sad.

Kate: … T-That’s…

I wanted to throw away those feelings into the depths of the ocean, but he found them and held them in his two hands.

(... I thought of just putting up with my situation.)

(But that doesn't mean I should…)

Ellis: …

Ellis: Hey. Want to run away with me?

Kate: Run away…?

Ellis: Yeah. If that's what you want, I’ll take you anywhere you want.

Ellis: Anywhere in the world.

Kate: … Really?

The young man named “Ellis” gave me a firm nod.

I must've been crazy to place my fate in the hands of someone I had just met. And yet, for some reason, my heart was racing.

(Even just once, if I allow myself to wish for something…)

(I…)

Kate: … Please, help me. Take me away from here.

Ellis: Leave that to me.

He held my hand, and we ran through the cruise ship.

Kate: Wait… um…

Ellis: Ellis. My name.

Kate: … Ellis.

Ellis: And your name is?

Kate: I’m Kate.

Ellis: This way, Kate.

…

We kept running and running, and hid in the ship’s cargo room.

We huddled together, sitting next to stacks of wooden boxes.

Ellis: Late at night when there are fewer people around, come to my room.

Ellis: I’m sorry that my room is only a third-class cabin, so it might not suit you.

Kate: That’s fine… but…

Kate: Why are you helping me?

Ellis: Why?

Kate: We’ve only just met, haven't we?

Ellis tilted his head in puzzlement for a moment, and then he smiled like he had found a precious treasure.

Ellis: Because of your smiling face.

Ellis: I thought that you must look so lovely when you smile… I guess?

Ellis: Is that reason… not good?

Kate: N-No…

Ellis: Fufu, that’s great.

(That’s the kind of reason why he helped me?)

However, he meant everything he said.

To prove that, my heart had been throbbing for a while.

(Is it because he helped me? Or because I’m worried about what will happen to me from this point on?)

No matter how much thought I put into it, I couldn't arrive at an answer.

(It’s the first time I’m experiencing this feeling.)

When I rested my hand on the floor, our hands touched.

Ellis: I boarded this ship with a ticket I got by chance.

Ellis: But now, I think that perhaps it was a lucky ticket.

Kate: Why do you say so?

Ellis: Because it led to me meeting you.

Our gazes met, and without another word, our lips drew closer.

— At that point in time, we still didn't know that our meeting on the ship would lead to a passionate love.

[nytehavyn-circle]

It's funny how many of the younger RPers online today go for canon muses. All of the older RPers online - anyone who is 40+ (some slightly younger) - grew up with Original Characters.

When I first started RPing on AOL in RP chatrooms, on AIM with 1x1 RPs, and in private chatrooms with group RP people - canon characters just weren't something that was played back then. (Not in my experience, anyway.) Most of us had never heard of anyone RPing a 'canon' character.

Canon RP characters didn't really start popping up and getting popular until a lot of fandom websites and such started popping up and getting really popular. Then RP chatrooms started getting filled with them, and a fuckton of RP message boards popped up (mostly fandom-based), filled with canon characters, and then canon characters started showing up EVERYWHERE.

Which was fine, and fun. Because for us OC players, it was very interesting to play our OCs against a canon character; expanding on world-building, figuring out how these characters fit together, etc.

Now, for me, personally (I can't speak for other older RPers), it wasn't until I came to Tumblr that I saw so many damned canon characters being played. I was honestly shocked. And to find out that a LOT of canon character RPers (and this bleeds over into this day) would shun RPers who played OCs.

I was very annoyed, but I found a niche of OC RPers and had fun with that. When I decided to try my hand at the possibility of playing a canon character, I went for Spike from Buffy/Angel. But he was basically used for shitposting and dash commentary, asks that were sent to him; he was used for funsies.

I ended up gaining over 500 followers on his blog, and was shocked by the amount of fan asks I got telling me how good I played him, that they could hear his voice in the posts, etc. This is not me bragging, this is me being utterly shocked and amazed that I, apparently, played a canon character so well that he gained a small fanbase. >_O I'm STILL shocked it happened, to this day.

So, I branched out with him and made him a fully-fledged RP character, one who grew over the years and changed a bit as I played him.

So, I KNOW I can RP a canon character. Some of them I can RP better than I can other canon characters, it just has to be a character that I can kind of connect with and understand, not to mention really, really like.

But, for me, and probably a lot of the older RPers, the real fun comes in creating a muse from scratch - from the bottom up, fleshing them out, creating a backstory that hasn't already been written for them; coming up with a personality all their own.

I am not disparaging those of you who play canon muses. A lot, a hell of a lot of you, are very, very good. Kudos to you on it, because some of you play canon characters I wouldn't dare try to play for fear of destroying the fantasy. For example. I wouldn't and couldn't be able to RP Steven Rogers/Captain America well. Not at all.

But, I will always prefer to play an OC - and so will a lot of the older RPers. And by that, I mean the older RPers who grew up with RP from table to online.

So, from one RPer to another, whether you be young or old... try to give OCs a chance, even if you've had a bad experience with one or two of them in the past. You might just find a decent OC that fits with your character and playstyle.

So don't give up on us (OC players and/or older RPers). We just want the same chance and respect that canon characters have been afforded.

Love to you all, whether you are young or old, whether you play a canon character or an OC. You are valued.

Be good. And have fun in the RPC. Because that's what it's about - Pure, unadulterated fun.

<3<3<3

[wizardpink]

You know what is on my mind? I made the mistake of joining Threads a while back, and I basically just open it every couple days, get blasted by the most rage-baity stuff you can imagine, then close it, but,

I used it enough to get a feel for the fact that it is Blue MAGA central. Like when Biden stepped down, people on there were posting that they were WEEPING, how DARE we horrible evil leftists have spread the vicious lie that Biden was too old to competently hold office,

And it was SO BAD that just about any time someone mentioned high groceries prices, or outrageous rent costs, without even blaming Democrats or asking if there was anything the President or Congress could do to help,

Blue cultists would appear to tell the person they were wrong, or lying, or exaggerating, because the Dow and the Nasdaq were blah blah, or unemployment rate was blah blah, or how dare you complain that you struggle to make ends meet, don't you know that makes King Biden look bad? Clearly you must want Trump to win if you are out here daring to say anything other than glowing praise for our Democrat overlords.

And like, it pisses me off that your average politically-disconnected, privileged American votes based on the price of gas rather than what candidate wants to put people in camps and strip your rights away. But the myopic, heartless response of "you're worried about inflation? 🙄 Okay Karen, let's all just stop everything because you can't afford to feed your kids. 😒 Oh your rent is nearly half your income every month? Let me play you the world's smallest violin..." was really, really, REALLY not helpful to getting people on board to vote for Harris. Like at best these people were ignored and at worst they were mocked and called liars and psyops. And unlike most leftists, whom these moderates outnumbered probably 10 to 1, they didn't hold their noses and vote for her anyway. They voted for Trump or stayed home.

We talk so much about how Democrats would rather lick centrist and Republican voter boots than court leftists but this year it was like they weren't even courting the centrists. It was "get in line or go fuck yourself." And look how that turned out.

[elisedonut]

I've been so freaking obsessed with Evan Rosier/Percy Weasley time travel fic.

Starts out as a Voldemort wins AU and Percy time travels to the past, ends up about 16/17 and back in Hogwarts, sorted into Slytherin, he doesn't know shit about Voldemort or how to prevent the war, so he does the only logical thing he can. Becomes a better alternative to Voldemort. Yup, straight up Percy Weasley cult, yes I'm doing that :P

It takes a while, but most of the other students are more or less on board, except Evan Rosier. He's hanging around because his friends are all enamoured, but he's suspicious, he doesn't trust Percy. Percy thinks he's hot c: Evans emotionally constipated self thinks Percy is hot too :p but very sus and he doesn't trust easy

So basically Percy has to change the future by forcing the Hogwarts population into therapy, becoming a sort of accidental cult leader, joining the pta and uniting with parents in ways that change actually happens even if they don't like some things he says, changing some of the dumb things the teachers do, changing the gryffindor bias, promoting interhouse unity and all that fun stuff :D

Yk like litte things that change everything

His and Evans dynamic is kinda like

Evan: *shaking the front of Percy's robes* I don't know who the fuck you are, or what you're playing at but I'm going easy on you because my friends like you. But you so much as stub their toe, you are dead, do you hear me?

Percy: That's nice, mind the robes will you? They're new. Unlike some people I can't afford buying new ones for every idiot who randomly decides to assault me.

Evan: You kissed Mulciber?

Percy: What of it

Evan: No- I just- Mulciber? He's probably got some- I don't know, infectious disease!

Percy: If I didn't know better I'd think you wanted to kiss me.

Evan: *spluttering*

Evan: Why were you hanging around with Snape

Percy: *flipping page of his book* We were discussing the importance of media literacy in charged political climates

Evan: *darkly* Of course you were.

Percy: Is there a problem?

Barty: *popping up out of nowhere with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle at Evan* Yeah, why are you bothering him Evan, it's like your obsessed :)

Evan: I am not obsessed! I just- I- I just think maybe his lordship shouldn't leave everyone out of interesting discussions!

Barty: Seriously.

Percy: Actually, that's a good point Rosier. Thank you for pointing that out. How about tomorrow we properly launch debate club! I'll go ask professor Slughorn, Rosier will you assist me?

Evan: *dying inside* Whatever. I don't have anything else that I'm doing so like- yeah

Evan doesn't know why the fuck Percy is crying but he gets it. He gets what it's like and he doesn't trust him, can't trust him, can't make that shrivelled little thing inside him reach out and accept someone new, but he can understand. And he holds him. And Percy cries into his jumper until he's asleep and then Evan tells himself he should go, he shouldn't be here, it feels so wrong to see this boy so vulnerable and trusting but he stays and in the morning they don't talk about it. In the morning Avery fawns a little as he pours milk in Percy's cereal and he sneers just the same as usual, a hufflepuff asks for Percy's thoughts on rock music and he scoffs and rolls his eyes the same as usual but he finds himself checking if Percy actually eats the food they give him, seeing the dark circles under the redheads eyes, seeing the smudged and filled up schedule he keeps worrying over

ASDFGHJKL I CAN'T GET OVER THEM PLS

oh sounds neat

ngl I don't really know anything about Evan because I'm not a Marauder girlie like at all

Death Eaters are honestly my least favorite people to pair with Percy personally and there's not many that I do actively like

so i don't tend to pay them much attention unless i find them interesting for some other reason

because as anyone who's been here long enough can probably tell i have a hard time caring about characters unless i can tie them back to Percy in some way or another

but regardless yeah Percy and Time travel are two of my favorite fic genres so i could see the appeal

Percy trying to start a cult himself is very funny though

like at this point he just doesn't know what else to try so he's just kind of like fuck it i guess ill try this

it is neat because Evan's the only one seemingly suspicious and in a way his suspicions are right like Percy is 100% up to something its just that the something isn't actually a bad thing really

Also your writing him so jealous thats always fun

[droughtofapathy]

For those of you in New York, don't think that just because we are a blue state it means you don't have to vote or that your vote does not matter. Maybe it will be a forgone conclusion that our electoral college votes go to the Democratic candidate, but voting is not, and never is, just about the presidential election. We are voting on all levels this and every year, and it is vital that you make informed and educated picks. Your local elections are majorly important. If you really want to enact systemic change, this is the most realistic and doable way to achieve that. It starts with small community-based change. Young people statistically has poorer voter turnout as compared to older demographics, and that is why your local councils and small-town mayors and hell even your school boards are able to run business as usual without the interests YOU want in mind. Because you let them.

The first ballot I ever cast when I turned 18 was not in a presidential election. It was to vote on my local school district's budget. It was in the school's gymnasium and despite it being open after school as kids left for the bus or practice or whatever, I was the only student there. This was a budget that directly impacted us, the students, and the people voting were all far older. I have voted in dozens of small elections and ballots where the margins can be as little as two votes.

It matters.

In New York, it is so damn easy to register to vote and to cast your ballot. I do not want to hear your excuse about how you can't register and vote because you don't drive, or you're disabled and can't stand in line day-of, or whatever your "well actually" comment is. If you are eligible to vote in this state, you can and must vote.

You can register online here

What do you need to register? Three things:

NYS driver license, permit, or non-driver ID card

ZIP Code currently on record with the DMV

Social security number

As a member of society, you have those things. If you work, you must have those things. If you want to rent an apartment, you must have those things. If you do anything at all, you have those things. If you don't have those things, then you are a very hyper-specific case and honestly, what are you doing on tumblr dot com when it seems like you might have bigger issues at hand?

But what about the actual voting?

Guess what? New York has some of the easiest voter methods in the damn country. Since 2020, requesting a mail-in ballot is easier than getting a sandwich at the deli.

Apply for a Mail-In Ballot Here

Any voter. You do not need to have a reason. You can just fill out the form. It takes five minutes. The ballot arrives at your residence, you fill it out, you mail it back. That's it. No waiting on lines if you aren't able-bodied, no risking contact with anyone else if you're immunocompromised, no taking time off work if you can't afford to.

For those of you not in New York, check your state guidelines here. In Ohio, for example, it's as easy as New York. You can vote by absentee ballot as long as your voter registration information is current. And as one of the most notorious swing states, it is crucial to vote blue in Ohio. Texas, on the other hand, doesn't actually seem to want to encourage voting, and you must meet certain criteria. But those who are disabled can and should request a mail-in ballot.

You can vote. Do it.

[hughiecampbelle]

Your Relationship As Logans Youngest Would Include:

Requested: What would Logan’s relationship with his youngest child? - anon

A/N: I'm not 100% sure if this was a request or just a question, but I like it too much not to turn into a headcanon :) I'm basing it off these headcanons and this fic series because I love this Baby Roy! Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

Logan never wanted you from the beginning

He makes that abundantly clear with your mother, but she had no children, by him or anyone else, and thought this would be the way to trap him. It'll at least get her the money she wants when they inevitably divorce

Neither of your parents understand what it is to raise a child. Your mother was never warm and fuzzy with your siblings, let alone you. She hates the fact that she has to give up alcohol and sushi for you and definitely reminds you of all her sacrifices. Your father wants nothing to do with you. Period

He has three boys to choose from, more than enough for a single successor, and a daughter to carry on the family name. To Logan you're more like spare parts

He's older now, he has less time for children, less time for you. Less energy, too. He doesn't have time for you. He didn't have time for your siblings, but now he was even more busy. At least they're grown up, at least he doesn't have to parent them anymore. You're a baby, you supposedly need him. But his work is more important

After you're born he spends as little time with you as possible, leaving your mother and siblings to raise you. He can't remember, but he swears you cry more than the others. You cry all the time. It prevents him from working. It prevents him from inviting people over. You are deemed the reason he can't get anything done

It's up to your siblings mostly to raise you. Connor takes over as father figure and the rest do their best to protect you. When you're fussy or cranky or just not in a good mood they know better than to let you near Logan in that state. Things always end badly when you're around him

When he can't help but be around you, he remains distant. When you're old enough to walk and talk and go to school, he might ask about it. Probably not, though. He can't be bothered to care

You remind Logan of his own mortality. You're so much younger than he is, so much younger than your siblings. He sees you and realizes he doesn't have the energy anymore. He doesn't have the drive anymore. He's still got his bite of course, but he's getting older. He's not as scary as he used to be, at least he feels this way and it's why he's even more cruel than usual

Logan only hears word of your tantrums. You have a nasty temper that makes the help quit weekly. He doesn't have time for that. He'd just divorced your mother and became the parent with the most custody. He isn't going to hit you like Roman, he has this feeling you'd only get worse. You're already covered in bruises and scratches, he can't afford anymore questions

He sent you to your room for days at a time, he took away meals and toys and time with your siblings. Some days he even took you away from school, deciding that time with your teachers and friends was too good for you. You'd be so quiet, so still, he sometimes forgot you were there. When you begged for food and water he'd send a plate to your door, not wanting to see you at the table. Not wanting to see you at all

One day after a particularly bad week, after you threw yet another tantrum in front of his investors, he calls you into his study. You know you're not allowed in here. He has so many things he wants to say that he can't. He wants to yell and scream and order you to stop acting this way. It's childish, it's reckless, and if you don't straighten up, he'll ship you off to boarding school. Instead, what comes out is vague and simple: Quiet down.

Quiet down the tantrums, the emotions, the crying and yelling, the head banging, the scratching, the throwing, the disaster, quiet down everything until you are nothing. Until you are nothing

It is a non-threatening threat

Your siblings try to help, try to get in-between the anger and your father, but he knows. He sees everything that goes on inside his home. Your behavior is unacceptable and he will not stand it

When you started drinking, he took notice. You were, what? Ten, eleven, twelve. He'd had his first drink by your age. The fact that you had simmered down meant that it was working

He would do nothing to stop you, nothing to intervene. When you went to your mothers, when you weren't drinking, he was the one who heard all about how misbehaved you were. When you came home and self-sedated, he figured it was a win. He finally had you behaving. Ever since you were born he'd felt this anger, this disgust towards you. Now that you were limp and quiet and subdued, you were a pleasure to have

The pills were the next step, stealing from the bathroom cabinet, coke from Kendall's pockets, other drugs from school. He knew what was going on, but again didn't care. He felt like he'd been holding his breath your whole life and could now finally breathe

He didn't care what you did or how much you did it, it was your life he was fucking up, not his. Why should he care?

You wouldn't overdose til a few months later. He pays the hospital bills, never bringing it up. You collapse a few times at home, the help finding you, saving you, but he never brings it up. You come home and shut yourself in your room, out late every night

He's not an idiot. He knows exactly what you're doing, what you're trying to get rid of: the anger. He'd let you kill yourself over it. He has an heir, he has successors that aren't you. You're finally letting him do his job, letting him work. That's all he wanted your entire life

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"To do what?"

He knows. He's always known. And sometimes it feels like he's rubbing it in your face that he knows and doesn't care. It hurts and drives you to do more drugs and drink more alcohol. If he doesn't care about you, why should you?

He doesn't keep track of you. You're at clubs, bars, underground, all over the city. If you're not home by the time he goes to bed you are not his problem. Simple

When you call him that night, sobbing, asking for help, for safety, for him to pick you up after days of not being home, he nearly hangs up. You are weak. You always have been. Instead he calls Connor, knowing he's in the city, ordering him to find you. When the call ends he goes back to sleep without worry. This is your mess, your fault. He won't let you get in the way of another big day tomorrow

Years you spent ruining your life, your body, a decade you spent in those bars, in those clubs, drinking yourself to sleep every night because you were weak and couldn't deal with life

He doesn't see you for months after that. You go to rehab a few times. You stay with your siblings and then you get your own place. Neither of you talk about that night, that call. He is neither kind to you nor hateful. You simply exist. You are a letdown. You always have been. He was foolish to think you'd be any other way

Logan dies not liking you. You're clean now, have been for a year after multiple months of rehab and multiple months of falling off the wagon. But that doesn't mean a thing to him. You poisoned yourself for years. You poisoned your family. You couldn't deal with life and that made you weak. No matter how sober you stay or for how long, you did those things to yourself. No one else did. Logan didn't want you from the beginning, but your life just proves you are not a Roy, you never will be. You're, at best, spare parts