#especially now

[dummyminded]

Mobius is a sweetie pie but when he's wronged he's not afraid to call people out I LOVE that about him 😭🧡

[brattyfics]

All women need a hobby and I can not stress this enough. Fortunately for us, the possibilities are endless!

Read and/or Write fiction, non-fiction, etc.

Research something that fascinates you and create a PowerPoint about it. This one is really fun because it can be about something complex like the mummification process in ancient Egypt or something simple like the plants and animals native to your local area.

Thrift a dollhouse and make tiny furniture for it.

Thrifting is a hobby in itself, TBH. Buy & collect DVDs and CDs like it’s 2006, or even vintage trinkets and furniture. Who can stop you?

Learn how to knit or sew. This is not a boring ‘granny’ hobby. There are so many cool and cute things you can make!

Make paper dolls and cute little clothes for them. Super inexpensive. All you need is paper and crayons or markers.

Coloring, Sudoku, Crosswords. These are great because they’re low pressure and you can pick them up and put them down quickly if you don’t have a lot of time.

Jewelry making. Beware this gets expensive fast. Really fun though.

Go on walks and collect leaves & shit. Glue or tape them down in a journal and write something about the moment you found them, or what they remind you of.

Make niche playlists. It’s not a waste of time if you enjoy it. Curate a vibe, pretend you’re a DJ!

Daydream. At your own risk. This one is kind of dangerous, NGL. But it is free, and no one can take it from you.

Try new recipes that sound good to you. It doesn’t matter if your man or your kids don’t like it. It’s not always about them. Respectfully.

Journaling. This is like 100 hobbies in one. You can sketch fashion designs, write poems, keep a log of information you’ve researched, print pictures you love and create a mood board (like a physical format of Pinterest) or you can even glue down your literal trash (wrappers from your drink bottles, labels from things you’ve bought, the bags your fast food came in, etc.)

Whatever it is, you need to do and create something that is just for yourself!

[disasterhimbo]

Hey, remember like 10 years ago when many of us were in our teens and twenties? Remember how there were all those news articles making fun of “millennials and their avocado toast,” that they didn’t know certain skills that had stopped being taught in school, that they were ruining the economy by killing various industries?

Remember how we rightfully said that was bullshit and we would be the generation to end it, that we would be nice to the generation after us?

I’ve seen a couple posts shitting on gen alpha kids. Don’t do that. Remember that they’ve already been through climate disasters, political unrest, and a global pandemic in their young lives. Talk to them. If they’re being rude, it’s probably because they’re struggling, not because they’re evil. Treat them as we wanted to be treated when we were their age. Children are people.

[fan-fricking-fiction]

We are ft. commentary textposts (8)

other We are posts <3

[hadesoftheladies]

it isn't empowering for girls to see adultified/sexualized adolescent female characters in media, actually. get that child a pack of legos, a nintendo and a juice box you creeps.

[livetogether--diealone]

lando the gravel is calling you, go towards the light

[plut00nline]

And another thing. I do hope that Viktor's plot is more tied in w the "main" plot, because although I loved his s1 plot and I love second coming of christ plot I desperately want to see him interact w people like jinx and ekko and everyone other than just talking to jayce 90% of the time

[shehungthemoon]

These photos NEVER releasing their hold on me tbh

[mamamittens]

Oh, Sweet Child of Mine (Pt. 9)

Platonic Yandere Whitebeard Crew & Reader-insert

Main|First|Previous

Warnings: Yandere behavior, kidnapping (again), and vague descriptions of grievous injury (need I specify whom at this point?). Slight angst. If yandere content makes you uncomfortable, please do block 'oh sweet child of mine' as well as any variation of 'one piece yandere' that you feel is necessary. Do not tolerate this behavior in real life from anyone (especially backstabbing, definitely don't tolerate that and get medical assistance as soon as possible).

What you've all been waiting for (fearfully even) is here. The beginning of the end. The same story but... different now. For the better? We'll have to find out, won't we?

Word Count: 1,788

Apparently, Marco had promised Twin-Blade a party when he returned. And as you’ve seen several times by now—before discretely sneaking back to your room to avoid the shenanigans—Whitebeard Pirates don’t need an excuse to throw a party. Once the supplies were safely stored, Twin-Blade took center stage with a bundle in his arms.

You stared at it with something approaching horror, the pit of your stomach rotting from underneath you. You’ve felt a lot of different fruits before, brushing by them as you worked. But you’d never felt one like this. A little too alive and seemingly aware of your presence in a way you didn’t care for. Miraculously less than you cared for being on a pirate ship. It felt greedy like a spoiled child asking for more sweets with sticky fingers and sugar-stained lips. Like it would take and take and take everything you are if you weren’t careful.

Maybe devil fruits always felt this… intense? When it hadn’t been eaten yet? Just a bundle of raw power and potential.

Regardless, you didn’t like it.

Twin-Blade beamed, sneaking glances at you with his expression faltering.

“O-Oyaji! We were challenged on the way back by pirates. And guess what lovely prize they had?” Twin-Blade removed the fruit from the bag. Massive, even in his large hand, and purple with pointy spikes. The whole deck gasped in shock. Devil fruit users weren’t exactly rare on the Grand Line, but finding a fruit itself was a matter of sheer luck. Twin-Blade glanced at you again only to see your pinched expression. “What is it?”

You wrinkled your nose.

“…nothin’. Just feels… weird.” You shrugged, trying to push aside the sticky, reaching sensation of the devil fruit. Twin-Blade looked intrigued.

“Oh!?” He scrambled over to you, ignoring your flinch as the fruit got too close to you. “What do you feel? Can you tell what it does?”

So close to the fruit you noticed a new sensation. An almost magnetic pull. Not a compulsion to eat or touch it, but a literal draw. Like there was a rope around you gently tugging you closer. You shuddered, hating how it started to feel hard to breath near it.

“Dark. Grabbing. I-I don’t know. Feels weird. Please go away.” You huffed. Twin-Blade paused, looking at your face before frowning.

“Sorry. Got too excited. You don’t look so good, are you alright?” Twin-Blade moved the fruit away from your face and placed the back of his hand to your forehead. You swatted at him with a scowl.

“I’m fine! Stop that!” You hissed.

“Hey, Thatch, are you going to drink some of this booze or are you offering another mug to your loving brothers?” Ace declared, raising two mugs high as food was brought out from below deck to feed the rowdy crowd under the growing stars.

Twin-Blade jolted from his thoughts, immediately incensed.

“Oh, hell no! Gimme that!” Twin-Blade ran to claim his drink. You sighed with relief before quietly heading back below deck. A large hand lowered down in front of you. You looked up to see Whitebeard leaning over with a concerned expression.

“Are you alright, my child?” You huffed, attention torn between the Yonko and the devil fruit somewhere behind you.

“Yeah. Just headed to bed. Night.” You said with clipped words, veering around him hand, shuddering at the gentle pulse of the greedy devil fruit behind you.

Whitebeard’s eyes fixed on you as you walked below deck, dodging party goers and cooks bringing more food and booze up.

--*--

Thatch raised his mug up high with a cheerful laugh, accepting the teasing questions about his new prize. Ace kept glancing back every so often with a frown before drunken cried brought him back.

“What’s the matter, Ace?” Thatch asked, leaning against the younger man’s shoulder with a grin. Ace gave him a sideways glance.

“Nothing… I guess I’m just worried about them.” Ace tipped his head to the side, indicating the entrance to below deck. “They don’t really stay for parties but they seemed really eager to leave this time.” Thatch grimaced.

“Yeah. I think the devil fruit was messing with them.” Thatch huffed, irritated that his plan to drag you from your shell backfired so spectacularly. “What the hell does ‘dark’ and ‘grabbing’ even mean?”

Ace shrugged.

“Don’t look at me. They don’t usually talk about their devil fruit with anyone.” Ace explained. “But maybe you could ask? Couldn’t hurt at least. Maybe not with the fruit—”

“Zehahaha~! Got yourself quite the prize, eh commander?” Teach plopped down next to him suddenly with a cheerful grin and red face. He leaned over to ‘whisper’. “So… are ya going to eat it?”

Thatch sighed.

“…I don’t know. I don’t even know what it does. What if it’s really lame? I only get one shot, you know!” Thatch grumbled. “And your newest sibling seems more on edge than usual.”

Teach smacked his back hard with an uproarious laugh.

“ZEHAHAHA~! You’ll figure it out! Maybe they just need a bit to sort themselves out?” Teach suggested. Thatch smiled, feeling a little reassured at the possibility. Night had long since fallen and the party was still in full swing. They should be asleep by now.

“Ah~ I wish I could talk to them.” Thatch sighed wistfully.

“Well why don’t you?” Thatch looked at Teach in surprise.

“They’re probably asleep…?” Teach grinned.

“Well, it can’t hurt to check! And hey, I don’t think they ate anything, either!” Thatch bolted up.

“Ahck! What! I told them to eat while I was gone!” Thatch whined, his face hot as he swayed on his feet. Teach laughed at his misery, standing up to help steady him.

“Let’s make a food run and see if they’re still up, commander. Who knows, maybe they’ll be in a mood to talk after a bit of food?” Teach suggested reasonably.

Thatch, even a bit tipsy, could see no fault in the logic. Or possibly because he was tipsy? No matter, he was going to do the best damn food run of his life.

He needed to talk to you!

Thatch waved to Ace and, with Teach’s help, stumbled up to hopefully get food good enough to tempt you into speaking to him.

The whole time Teach was laughing and joking, teasing Thatch for getting so damn tipsy—which he honestly deserved, he underestimated the strength of the booze, which is a terribly rookie mistake to make as a Whitebeard Pirate.

“What’s the bag for?” Thatch frowned, rummaging in the fridge to make a quick snack. Teach chuckled, loading up the bag.

“What? Do you think you could carry food and walk in a straight line?” Teach asked.

“Ah. Good idea, Teach, eheh, I’d probably drop it on the floor and waste it all!” Thatch cackled, shaking his head as he grabbed a couple bottles of juice. He was probably grabbing too much food, but he wasn’t sure if Teach would be sticking around for the conversation and as a D, Teach ate a lot.

Teach gave Thatch a slightly odd smile, chuckling under his breath as he finished loading up the goodies.

By the time they made it to the hallway with your room, Thatch was now a lot more sober, aided by two whole glasses of water. He didn’t want to make a total ass of himself by being too tipsy to make any sense.

The door was, unexpectedly, locked. So Marco or someone else had already came by to check on you. Which meant you had to be asleep now. Thatch had a key, sure, but now he wasn’t so sure he should actually wake you up.

He paused in front of the door, looking at the key.

There was a soft, sharp sound behind him.

Like a knife hissing as it was pulled from a scabbard.

The hot, burning pain took his breath away and made his knees go weak.

He collapsed on the floor instantly, thinking hazily that he was having a stroke or something equally terrible.

He gasped, shuddering with agony as he was moved. Teach standing over him as he gently took something from his jacket.

Thatch couldn’t focus. His thoughts circling round and around again.

Teach was holding the devil fruit.

Teach had the key.

Teach had the devil fruit and the key.

He was stepping over Thatch into the room and Thatch found his heart racing under protest. Only capable of gasping weakly as his body refused to cooperate.

His eyes slid shut for only a moment. Briefly lifting up as Teach stepped over him again, locking the door and dropping the key on Thatch’s chest. A second bag slung over his shoulder.

“Zehahaha—nothing personal, commander.” Teach smiled sincerely before walking away.

What?

Thatch closed his eyes again and waited for the world to make sense.

It only grew colder, his erratic thoughts growing increasingly distant and unreal.

He thought there was danger, but where? He was a little cold, sure, but he was fine otherwise… right?

“THATCH!” Hot hands cradled his face, something like molten liquid dripping down his face.

Reluctantly, Thatch opened his eyes, the world growing soft and faint. Someone was crying over him. Probably because he was so damn handsome, heh. Tan skin and freckles all over. Silver eyes like a blade—he’s bleeding out, isn’t he? Seas, he’s not ready to die—overflowing with tears.

“MARCO! QUICK! SOMEONE GET MARCO!” The young man lightly smacked Thatch’s face. “H-Hang in there, Thatch! Y-You’re going to be fine! I promise!” He promised desperately.

But something was bothering Thatch. More than the chill in his bones and strong enough to pierce through the cotton in his head, numbing his tongue and fingers.

He didn’t know why, but your name was the last thing that left his lips.

Where did you go?

“THATCH!”

--*--

You shuddered awake hazily to the rocking of a boat. Your neck bruised and ropes wrapped around your body. The sea waves lapped away near your head.

You could see the rising sun on the horizon and a distant island when you turned your head. Something soft bracing your bruised neck from the wood of the row boat.

“…Mmm?” You hummed, head swaying as you laid back down.

“Hmm, go back to sleep. We’ve got a ways yet before shore and between the two of us, I’m definitely the better rower. Don’t worry—" You closed your eyes reluctantly and began to drift off. “—I’ll get a decent boat to sail properly with, zehahaha!”

You fell back asleep with the distorted sense that something was wrong.

Dark shadows practically wrapped around your ankles as you fell into darkness again.

[multi-fandom-magic]

Thought this was a really good quote, so here I am sharing it.

[haha-dying-inside]

Me every time Spilled Ink updates: I’m not mentally stable for this today (reads the chapter anyways)

[loveourtimeisnow]

just had a thought of zayn adding "there you are" to the set list...

[inferno-ontherocks]

911 | 4x14 Survivors

"Put your hand out"

[triaelf9]

Supporter thanks!

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[hadesoftheladies]

i cannot stress enough how key it is to women's and girls safety for them to simply accept that men (any man in any shape) are dangerous. because the first step to women's self-defense is clocking the predator. you can't fight or prepare to defend a monster you can't see. and you're more likely to get eaten alive if you underestimate your enemy.

and that is precisely why men keep fighting against women sharing that knowledge. because accepting that they're dangerous, that they're the problem, that they are worth fearing, that there is no kind of man that is immune to misogyny or patriarchy, forces women to retreat and fortify, hindering the predator's access to them

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Sidney: It’s starting to get cold, Oscar.. you need to sort that heater out. Oscar: The parts are expensive. Sidney: Do you need-… Oscar: It’s fine-.. I’ve got some work lined up. Sidney: [tuts] It’s not for your sake, I-… Oscar: Will you take a look at Byrd’s ears? Sidney: Wha-.. why? Oscar: I think he’s a bit deaf, watch-.. Wren, Byrd, c’mere! Sidney: He’s probably just stuffed up. Oscar: I don’t think so. [Wren instantly turned around upon hearing her name, excitedly heading towards Oscar’s outstretched arms] Oscar: Byrd… [Byrd seemingly ignores Oscar, eyes firmly glued to the TV] Sidney: See, this is why we never had a television. Oscar: It doesn’t matter what he’s doing, he can be staring into space n’ he’ll still ignore you. Sidney: Are you sure it’s not just selective hearing? You were always good at that… Oscar: Pfft-.. BYRD! [Byrd finally spins around, his little face full of confusion] Oscar: Awh, now he thinks I’m shouting at him-.. c’mere, buddy. [Oscar beckoned Byrd with a guilty smile, he didn’t like shouting at his kids, even if it was just an experiment] Sidney: I’m not an ear specialist, get him an appointment. Oscar: He hates going to the doctors though… Sidney: No, you hate it-.. stop being so bloody soft with ‘em. Oscar: [snorts] It’s better than being a hardass. Sidney: Is that what you think I am? [Oscar rolled his eyes and shrugged a shoulder, backtracking from the subject] Sidney: Do you-… [Sidney trailed off; Oscar wasn’t really listening anyway. She silently wondered if they ought to speak to someone about the past-.. a professional, perhaps. The hatchet they’d wordlessly buried had unearthed itself over time, especially now that her son had children of his own…] Oscar: Hm? Sidney: Nothing-.. we’ll just see how you cope once they start talking back. Oscar: Uh-huh.