#i live for your headcanons op

[kacievvbbbb]

Mihawk and the Red Haired Pirates

-Look I don't know what to tell you, Mihawk's epithet is literally Hawkeyes meaning he is world-renowned for his eyesight meaning that he'd probably make a good sharpshooter. And maybe Yasopp decides to test this theory with a little friendly competition. And after giving Mihawk a quick intro into how guns work, maybe Yasopp had to pull out every trick there is in the book to narrowly avoid losing to said Hawkeyes, who as it turns out is indeed very good at hitting targets and who had literally just learned how to cock a gun not even 30 minutes ago. But who's to say what actually happened, the day of November 25th at 2:35pm? Certainly not Yasopp, the record clearly shows he is undefeated.

-Once a year Ben and Mihawk go on a little trip just the two of them. They act like it's just so they can shit-talk Shanks but actually, they just go fishing somewhere in the middle of the ocean and drink horribly overpriced and fancy alcohol. Look Benn loves his crew, and would die for them but also if he doesn't get at least a week to himself once every year he'd kill them all himself. He deserves nice things and a little peace and fucking quiet and not being constantly inundated with the whims of a man child and Mihawk's the closest he's ever gonna get to a friend with taste, and he travels alone with a bunch of fancy wine. Sue the man. Mihawk who would rather nap is fine to let someone else sail his overgrown raft against the annoyingly ever-changing grandline for a week or two.

-Wouldn't it be cute if Mihawk learned a lot of his fancier cooking techniques from Roux? Like he knew how to cook to survive but watching Roux is how he learned to like properly dice vegetables and that eating fish prepared the same way three times a day is not infact a life he would like to lead. This was of course less cute to Lucky Roux who in the beginning had no clue what was happening and only felt the weight of Mihawk's otherworldly stare on the back of his neck as he handled knives. (he defiantly for at least a little bit, thought Mihawk had a knife fetish. which, he's not entirely wrong)

-To Building Snake (who I just learned is the RHP's navigator) Mihawk might as well be a modern-day miracle. In his eyes, Mihawk's sailing is proof that god exists, because only divine intervention can explain how this man ever gets anywhere never mind on time or early even. Building Snake is pretty sure he owns neither a map nor a log pose and he has never actually seen the sails of Mihawk's pretend ship unfurled or in use. Actually, he has never seen Mihawk do anything but sit menacingly on the throne in the middle of the boat, which why? If you think about it for even a second longer that 2 minutes how Mihawk "sails" anywhere breaks every law of physics and somehow even the concept of geography. Building Snake would like to dissect him and study him under a microscope but knows the boss would disapprove.

[zirkkun-uthcs]

Papyrus and Sans would 100% be BFFLs with Mario and Luigi. (However, I do think Sans favors Luigi a bit more b/c he's gentler - Mario may be a bit too aggressive sometimes for Sans's taste).

1) Mario and Papyrus go on hikes/runs together (Mario would never let Papyrus join him on an actual adventure though; he's overprotective with him as he is with Luigi (they both HATE that btw))

2) Papyrus and Luigi share pasta recipes with each other have have cooking competitions; Mario and Sans are the judges but they each vote for their own brother, so another friend has to come in and be the tiebreaker

3) Whenever M&L come to visit their world, they bring star bits with them!!

4) Sans and Luigi conducting experiments on the powerups and just being science nerds in general

5) Mario drags Sans into an ongoing "Best Big Brother" competition

6) Sans occasionally falls asleep on Mario; his fire powers makes him warm

7) Papyrus and Undyne helping Luigi become more confident in himself :] (They literally shout words of encouragement at him)

Sans/Mario and Papyrus/Luigi are also really similar to each other too,,, When I get my thoughts in order, I may expand a bit more on that,,, BUT DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE MY ABILITY TO MERGE MY TWO FAVORITE THINGS TOGETHER /LH /SRS

[bumblingbabooshka]

hiii im in the middle of watching voy for the first time (i just finished watching 6x6 riddles actually) and ive always recognized you as That person who Loves tuvok and i wanted to know your thoughts on neelix and tuvok's relationship? its my favorite aspect of voy personally but im interested in hearing how a massive tuvok fan like you feels about them

Tuvok & Neelix Thoughts (Fractured): Man who grows flowers for food loves a man who grows them purely for beauty, Annoying4Annoying, Comedy routines, Intricate rituals and the playing up of roles, Aliens amongst humans - to assimilate or remain stubborn?, Bringer of water/Bringer of life, Seeing an angel through the mist, Two people who have difficulty communicating and come off as off-putting to those around them, Unrequited love, Love is stored in the food + kitchen, Family men left without any family, People from impossible moons, Jokes that go too far, Horrific loneliness being masked by something else, I won't leave you alone (pos&neg), Cracks in the facade, People pretending and pretending and pretending, Leolaroot I Can't Help It I'm A Moth To The Flame Required Viewing, I can only admit I like you when no one else is around - when the situation's as bleak as can be - when we're seconds from death - only then will I admit that it's been fun. Apologies in the form of sliced apples instead of words vs Apologies in the form of long and tearful contrition. LET ME IN!!! LET ME IN!!!! Locked door you keep bruising your hand banging against. People who love too much so they: keep knocking, keep their ear against the door.

My thoughts are that Neelix is a silly goofy little tragic clown of a man and Tuvok thinks he's so much better than him but in actuality whatever they're up to makes them both look stupid <3 /affectionate Neelix having a crush on Tuvok is canon to me - what Tuvok's response to or level of knowledge of that is changes by the day.

[illithilit]

I have a metric fuckton of quiz results in my drafts and I want them out. So this is my solution to not wanting to spam the dash

Tagged by: @dracourge ; @mindfoster ; @loomsred

Mourndax

Love feels like.... Fear

the tap of a nervous foot against the floor. those butterflies in the pit of your stomach. a dry throat. heavy limbs. you want them so badly that it hurts, but fear keeps you frozen to the floor; what ifs and hypotheticals run rampant through your head. it's a chain around your neck, love, and it's your choice to let it choke you or break it.

How do you view love? Violent

harsh words and cold glares. painful in the way that your heart burns but can never seem to seek for something better. it is the way you would walk through glass to see a smile, or claw at your own arms just to satisfy another, give and never take for the guilt that comes with wanting is suffocating. emotionally draining and a forever ache that you can't escape.

What kind of love are you? Love as a flaw.

Cowering, your love hides in the dark. In shadows and under cover of night, your love runs from corner to corner, afraid to linger, afraid to be caught. Afraid, afraid, afraid of everything. When you fall in love, it is with alarm bells ringing. Your love is a mistake, a flaw in the code, a purchase you don’t remember making and desperately want to return. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t want this. It’s a problem–– your problem ––and you would do anything to pass it off, burn it away, scoop it out of you with bare hands, or carved out with hooked knives before it can destroy you. Get it out, just get it out now. You don’t care who you hurt in the process, only that you can’t afford to be hurt first. Being loved by you is to be loved by a figment of the imagination. It is to be loved in halves, or not at all.

What tragic character from Ancient Greek literature are you? Cassandra.

you are cassandra from the trojan women by euripides and agamemnon by aeschylus. people have tried to silence you one too many times, but you are resilient. your own dignity and agency have always come first, but at a great cost. you know yourself and your inner strength, but that won't ever stop you from feeling completely alone in the world. sometimes simply enduring the pain won't be enough, no matter how hard you want it to be. above all, you must never lose your unwavering hope in mankind, even as the world forsakes you. it is what keeps you human.

Let me assign you an affection language. A knife called grief.

You have left your house, you have left those people behind, but what are you going to do about the memories which have taken root in you? You can run but not without them. You want someone to sit with you on this cool marble floor while the sun burns everything.You want them to cut your rotten heart and theirs too. You want to sit with it in front of you, let them see you with all your flaws, which haven’t been your fault but you have been made to believe so, and you want them to love you anyways. Because you know you’d do that for them.

What colour does your love feel like? Deep staining crimson.

Ripped out confessions, warm velvety whispers and a heart like an open wound. Your love flows out like dripping blood, beautiful, flawed and twisted. It's gut wrenching, the type of painfully dramatic feeling that makes you clutch your chest, picturing dramatic monologues about love and loving and big screen over the top scenes of sobbing into your pillow until you fall asleep. It rips out of you, clawing it's way up your throat more so than tumbling out. Sticky words that just need to be let out, feelings so big they don't fit inside you. Your love isn't easy, it's a true bloody mess, dripping and staining everything it touches in a desperate attempt to be seen, to be felt, to be loved back. And you, you love so hard, so deeply, so much for someone who carries all that pain. Atlas holding up the world, how are you? Is your love still flowing? Is your heart still open? Still pumping and bleeding and dripping with blood and tears? Still painting your beautiful pictures and writing your love letters in deeply personal red ink? Because I see them, I read them, I love them and you, you, you, you. Clench your chest, scream your love, cry it out. Spill your words of loving, keep your heart beating, keep your love coming and paint the entire world red with it. Make it in your image, keep going, it's okay. Maybe one day the whole world can be red and loved and beautiful just like you.

What kind of hot are you? Rockstar hot.

you're wanted. by crowds of people. a heart-throb, who people hang posters of in their room and tell their friends is "so dreamy." you may not even be a celebrity, you could just be the star of your school. but what you and rockstars have in common is that your entire routine is very well-rehearsed, and you know exactly the right words, the right looks, to draw people's attention. you're a performance, you're an act, a hyperbolized version of a human being that others can get lost in. it's so easy for people to crush on you because they don't realize they don't know anything about you. you're an archetype, a character for others to project onto, and damn if it isn't a fun role to play.

What flavor is your soul? Salt.

ah little kraken, bold are you. restless sailor, dauntless fighter, lower your sword, let me see your shield. ah, of course, they are but the same object. oh wave-tossed ruffian, lend me some of your mettle would you? you have been struck by the sharpest of spears yet you still stand here proudly. but off your guard, elsewhere of the battlefield, you will find your spirit can parch others. your words are but weapons crafted from your soul. little lion, sheathe your claws, or the ones you love the most will suffer. you do not have to be strong all the time love, there's nothing wrong with being soft. vulnerability is not weakness, and if it were, what's wrong with that? strength is not always your greatest tool, your heart is good. put down excalibur, and use your words. you'll find they will carry you much farther. not everything in life is a battle.

How do you need to be touched? Cautiously.

your teeth are bared, as they have been, your jaw aching for so long as growls slip free. you always have to defend yourself. you lash out in fear. you need someone who does not shrink back... a hand falling slowly to your shoulder, however briefly, in a reminder that you do not have to lunge. there is no danger here, now.

What colour are you coded as? Pink coded.

pink, the color of femininity, believing in yourself, and embracing the side of you that you used to reject. you aren't someone who likes to hide, but you do all the time. you don't like yourself nearly as much as you may present, one way or another. you think of yourself as a hollow castaway of someone's little matryoshka doll, or worse, something broken and thrown away. you want to believe that there's more to life, to you, than this broken frame of something you have long forgotten the name of... but what are you supposed to do, after all this time?

Grazilaxx

Love feels like.... Everything

nothing matters but this. not you. not them. this moment, this love that you've built, that is what matters. it is all that there is. you will do anything to keep it this way; no matter what line you have to cross, who you have to step over. the ends justify the means, after all; and for you, this is everything. they are everything.

How do you view love? Isolating.

intense, silent, overwhelming. you have so much to give but it is too much to share. nobody every reciprocates the way you do. makes you feel alien, unwanted. so you keep it and and watch others, hoping one day that could be you too.

What kind of love are you? Love as a religion.

Devotion, that is the name of your love. Your love is an act of worship. Your love is like witnessing the birth of Venus, like seeing the sun come alive, or the stars fall. When you love, it is because you have found God in a lover. You have found the meaning of life itself in the heart of the one you adore. They are everything to you; they are your Maker, and you are their lamb, their flock, their first and holiest worshipper. When you fall in love, it is as a baptism. You are born anew, made a believer in the divinity of the one you love most. Being loved by you is an ascension; it is holy and golden. It is all-consuming, and all-faithful, loyal as the dog. You will never, ever bite back.

What tragic character from Ancient Greek literature are you? Medea.

you are medea from from the argonautica by apollonius and medea by euripides. you are ambitious, ruthless, and unforgiving in getting what you want, and unapologetic in your self-preservation. the truth is, you have let your romantic ideals get the better of you before, and time and time again you have had to relearn how to build up those walls and thorns that guard it. the only person who can protect you is yourself, and you have learned that the hard way. sometimes stoking that fire of hate and anger in your heart hurts more than whatever you're fighting against.

Let me assign you an affection language. A story that ends in blood.

The world has always been unkind, and when you have turned to yourself for comfort you have come face to face with an empty pit which seems to be laughing. You don’t care if it kills you but once you find someone whom you love and who loves you back, you will make sure nothing happens to them. They are yours. You will make a tear in this world and create a new place for you and your love if it comes to that. Because it has always been about love, and it is how it always ends.

What colour does your love feel like? Warm burnt orange.

Riding off into the sunset, the hope of a happy ending, the bitter after taste that still in it's own way smells kinda great. Your love is all bitter hopefulness, all about a broken heart that refuses to quit, all about the unshakable knowledge that a burning fire has a great comforting warm and a soft glowing light, all about the way when the sun comes down there's a beautiful starry night. It's stubbornness, it's the refusal to give up, the clutching of broken shards despite the searing pain and being adamant that dammit you can still make a beautiful stained glass window out of it. Yours is a screaming heart, a pleading love, a bitter and almost belligerent hopefulness that things will still work out even if you have to roll up your sleeves and make them. And god, aren't you tired? Isn't your heart heavy? Is all your hard work worth it? Don't you just want to curl up and let it be? Let the fire turn to ashes and the sky turn dark and let love die down and watch people leave? But you don't, do you? You're the bravest out of all of us, so you pick up the pieces and you keep going, you keep believing and you keep your heart full of hope because some day. Some day you know you'll get it. You keep riding off into the sunset and you keep filling my heart with hope as you go because god, how do I wish you finally get it too.

What kind of hot are you? Math tutor hot.

you're really not here for romance, at all. but whenever you actually interact with people, they're smitten with you. you might be usually overlooked, but for some reason whenever you're helping a peer who likely wasn't responsible enough to study like you told them to before the session, they're always paying rapt attention. you roll your eyes and lecture them whenever they seem distracted, staring at you or the floor instead of the textbook. but it's the moments where you raise an eyebrow, half impressed, and give them a quiet "good work" that makes you such a successful tutor. your praise is hard to come by, and people are certainly going to work to hear it again.

What flavor is your soul? Lavendar.

oh moon child, restless sleeper, tell me what it's like to dream? you float along the margins of reality, picking up the pieces of fallen memories to sculpt into your own realm. you are searching, but your tongue is quiet, quiet, quiet. open your mouth and sing my dear, silence only does you good for so long. and here you planted roots in the darkness, where not even the moon can reach your leaves. there is such a thing as being too practical, for you sail your ship on perpetually calm waters, and never have you spotted land. your mind has wings, uncage them! allow yourself to dream, you are not too far gone. there is no such thing! trust in yourself dear.

How do you need to be touched? Gently.

you need to be held as though you're going to break. you need someone to trace your scars like cracks in a wall, crumbling. their touch is almost painful; you've been without it for too long, without someone to hold you. but, you cannot bring yourself to pull away.

What colour are you coded as? Blue coded.

blue, a study in wisdom, belief, and knowing when enough is enough. you know yourself best, but you know the way the world works even more. you've been wandering in this world a little too long, and maybe that's the problem. you're a wanderer, a vagabond, an oracle, and a prophet all the same. who are you when the curtain call drops the last encore on you? do you dance behind the scenes for a job well done or are you already planning your next show? take a breather, for a moment. enjoy what you've done, enjoy what you have, enjoy the world that you've been wandering for so long. this world is so much better when you realize that some of it is worth living for.

Blurg

How do you view love? Soft.

love that is welcoming, one that encompasses you in its warmth. the feeling of a warm mug after a cold day. familiar huffs of laughter respond in the air as you lean on each other for balance. the feeling of falling on a soft bed of clouds on a nice sunny day. of waves lapping at sand on a beach

What kind of love are you? Love as a threshold.

Your love does not ask for much. Your love does not take. Your love is free, and unquestioned, and here for wherever needs it. When you fall in love, it is as gentle as a breath in the night. It is quiet, and it is effortless. It is tender. If your love was a house, it would readily welcome all who come through. If your love was a hearth, it would warm the hands of whoever stopped by, whether for a day, a month, a year, or forever. When you fall for someone, it is without strings, without conditions, without need. You love for the sake of loving, for the sake of caring for those who need it. You love with a giver’s heart and a giver’s hands and are made so much stronger for it. Being loved by you is to always feel at home. Your love may not always be well-received by those unprepared to linger, but it is unforgettable all the same.

What tragic character from Ancient Greek literature are you? Patroclus.

you are patroclus, from the iliad by homer, doomed by fate to be stuck in a love story that has no place on the battlefield. although you always have the best intentions, you have to realize you cannot save everyone. your unwavering loyalty means you often lose yourself in the process of putting others first. take a deep breath, remember who you are, and that you are deserving of the same love you try to put out. you are kind, you are strong, and you give and you give but it is never enough to protect those you love. in the end, it's not even enough to protect yourself.

What colour does your love feel like? Bright sunny yellow.

Sweet tasting popsicles, summer dresses and shielding your eyes from the sun. Your love is the excitement of something brewing, something growing. It's the almost childish bubbling giggles of something new, but with the potential to stay. It's wide smiles, blinding sunny light and warm bodies that gravitate to one another. It's the the softness, the willingness, the slight holding of breaths in a crucial "what if" moment. It's the impatience too. The bouncing on tiptoes to see further than your eyes can reach, the holding out for a future that never seems to come even though you're ready, you're so so so ready. It's the constant feeling of warm sand beneath your feet, holding out for the crashing waves. And still you wait, dry and impatient and with burnt soles of feet. Your love is sour candy, enjoying it as your nose scrunches up from the aftertaste of it. It's hands that grab and take hold, that reach and ask them to stay and hope and beg and wait. It's bubbling excitement sure, but it's also demanding, focused, driven. It's love like a plan, with a path and route and a clear destination. And you bonce on your tiptoes, and burning, waiting for the soothing water, the crashing waves, you hold onto the melting popsicle, you wait and wait and wait. It's tiring almost as much as it's lazer focused ambition, deeply rooted desire and the unrelenting hope that it will work, that it will come. And it does, I promise it does. The waves crash, the beach floods and the pain passes, the water cool and soothing and you can let yourself fall in, sinking, sinking. And it's good, it's perfect, what you were hoping and more, holding and embracing you and welcoming you into the stillness you always knew you were reaching for.

What kind of hot are you? Bob the builder hot.

i am not saying bob the builder is hot, im just saying you have the hotness of a handyman. you're humble, down to earth, and exist with an easy confidence that takes peoples breath away. you always seem to know exactly what you are doing. you may still be stuck in your hometown, but you have quite the reputation. you do get a lot of business, after all. people around here sure tend to break things an awful lot, and they always call you, listening through the phone reciever with a light blush and bated breath, for your inevitable "I'll help you."

What flavor is your soul? Rosemary.

ah, the old soul, nice to meet again. the time of ages is etched into your bones, you see clearly. you've watched the heartache in this realm and sworn to solve it. but kindness without limits is self destruction. oh little leaf, strong and wise, you seek to bring peace with your presence. I'd be wrong to say you fail at this effort, but you mustn't set yourself on fire to keep others warm. you wish to please everyone, to protect them all. but if you shield the saplings from the sunlight they will never grow, and you one day will wither. protect yourself too. you know there are no happy heroes, so don't be one. be a friend. your loved ones will not forsake you for not being perseus slaying all their demons. you have your own monsters, why not meet them first before you conquer anyone else's nightmares. oh true-hearted paladin you are brave, and you are good enough. you know that right? be true to yourself, one cannot do anything saintly if they did not tend to their own wounds first.

How do you need to be touched? Fervently.

you crave a hug that cracks your ribs... the feeling of your wandering soul being crushed back into the bones that can't seem to hold it. you need a hand gripping yours so tightly you almost fear it may leave a bruise, a reminder that you are here. and that you are not alone.

What colour are you coded as? Yellow coded.

yellow, a study in wildfires, honeycombs, and summer rain. everyone sees you smiling and laughing, happy in all the ways but the way that you know is true to you. everyone believes that nothing bad could happen to you, that you live life so freely that you'd never miss a beat, even if something bad DID happen to happen around or to you. but you're as miserable as the rest of them. you might be warm and gentle, when you need to be, but at the end of the day, you have long since accepted that fire is like you: best to be admired but never touched.

Orianna

Love feels like.... Lightning

you feel like you're on top of the world. like you've been struck by lightning -- you hope that they feel the same. it's all electricity, those metaphorical sparks; all adrenaline and the rush you get when you're near them. they're magnetic, they have some sort of pull over you, and you live off of the high they give you. watch it; lightning never strikes the same place twice.

What kind of love are you? Love as a performance.

Your love is a masquerade, a dance, a work of art. You love with a veil across your face, unable to allow anyone to see the real you. Can that be considered love, you wonder? As a performer, you have all your lines prepared, and you know exactly what to say and when to say it. You’re charismatic and bold, seductive and hypnotic. Your love is a snake’s melody, the siren song of the sea. Your love is enchanting. Your love is melodic. Your love is afraid and fearful and longing. You ache to tear the veil off, you ache to cast poetry aside for the sake of something real and gritty. You’re terrified of the very thought. Being loved by you is to be loved by an artist; it is to be a muse. It reflects others beautifully, but never, ever yourself. Not really. Not truly.

Let me assign you an affection language. Violent devotion.

Everyone seems to think you are faithless, but the thing is you haven’t yet found someone who will bring you to your knees and make you raise your head in reverence. This world has stopped bringing you joy, you want more of the divine. You want to dedicate your entire existence to someone; you want to make them realise they are not something terrible, make them see just how much beauty they are bringing to this world. You want to be the only one for them, the only one they have chosen to love. There’s a god shaped pit inside of you and only they can fit in it. And what if they choose to walk away? Didn’t I say this was violent devotion?

What colour does your love feel like? Cold stark gold.

Fireworks, borrowed lighters and sparklers against a dark backdrop, yours is a love that burns stark and bright. It's scary though, like things that burn always tend to be, but for you it isn't the thrill of the open flames that gives pause and a slight stomach drop of terror, but rather the time when the flames go out, the sparkler ends and the night is cold and dark once again. Fireworks, borrowed lighters, a striken match, your love burns bright and fast and then maybe it passes, maybe the feeling dies out and you're left in the cold once again. And that's the feeling isn't it? Of being bored and waiting for someone to light you up again? To be fair, you do know you don't need it, but then again we don't often crave the things we need. And you crave and yearn and burn in the wait, restless in the knowledge that at some point someone will pass and rub you the right way, that some day you'll light up the night sky bright yet again. There's comfort in the darkness and solace in the predictable loneliness of the in between, but your heart still squirms inside you, waiting and willing and begging to burn up again. Your love might not be comfort, it's not one for the sick days, but then again, there's a reason why everyone waits for the shining lights in the sky during holidays.

What kind of hot are you? Pink panther hot.

you're a modern queen. you sit to the side of the dance floor and drink out of martini glasses, a perfect vantage point to look over your court. you like to see the way people's eyes linger on you, hoping you'll see them, that they'll gain your approval. you are offered drinks by many overeager servants throughout the night. when you finally join the ball, the sea of people parts just for you, and you hear the nervous titters of the crowd who are so captivated by what you'll do next.

What flavor is your soul? Honey.

"sugared mel e lingua serpentis." sugared honey from a serpent's tongue. oh dearest, look how you gleam. how the sunlight dances off your shoulders, how the heavens shine across your wingtips. but you are hollow, hollow, hollow. even the taste of nectar can choke a man. sometimes the sweetest flowers hide the sharpest poison. you lie to yourself, the worst lie of all. you needn't be so obsessed with perfect. the greatest beauty lies in our faults. do you think the moon apologizes for their mara? no, their craters add to their glow. my dear, breathe. you are not an island, breathe, before the honey drowns you. you wish to be lovely, you long to be loved. but did aphrodite trade her powers for perfection? she did not. you can be beautiful, and also whole. be whole above anything else dear. a heart of diamonds is worth nothing if inchor oozes from it. inward. look within and question how well do you know yourself? little petal are you trying to be a god? why? can a god bloom from sullen soil? no. you are whole as you are.

[nonokoko13]

Ok but this has so much potential.

Family day around the corner and everyone is so excited they start talking about how some of their relatives have already confirmed they'll come.

By this point MC has pretty much met at least one relative of each boy.

Marja loves Epel's friends but she bonded with Grim and MC while the boys were racing. She knows Epel well and she knows, after all she has been young too.

Azul's mom has noticed her octobaby's voice crack when he speaks about MC, just by the information she has they already won her too. She married her divorce attorney, so she's an expert in playing well her cards by killing two birds with one stone.

Mrs and Mr Leech may haven't met MC in person but his brother gave him away by a subtle teasing that didn't go unnoticed at home. Floyd/Jade has his twin and their parents by his side, as if just one Leech isn't a menace enough. They may not be experts of birds but oh they know about killing... metaphorically speaking, obviously.

Ruggie brought snacks and ingredients that MC gave him and his grandma is overjoyed. It's not unusual that he brings food but someone preparing them a meal or buying Ruggie food? Must be the angel she prayed for her baby. Regardless of MC appearance Bucchi nanny tells them to eat more to their heart's desire if they drop by their neighborhood. She's excited of spoiling the prefect in return once she arrives and give Ruggie an excuse to spend time with MC

Trey doesn't hide nothing from his family, specially when it comes to who he's fond of. Another rival whose plan is "The way to someone's heart is through their stomach". And Clover bakery isn't popular for nothing.

Cater, being Cater, takes selfies with anything he likes. Including his favorite prefect. Perhaps their relationship wasn't the best in the past, but now that they are mending things his sisters look Cay-Cay posts everyday to know him better. And oh they think they are adorbs together! What's Cay waiting for? Maybe he needs some help~! Cater is going to desire that the Earth swallows him. #FamilyBeingOverTheTopAgain #Embarrassing #AtLeastTheyGotTheSpirit #FforCay

Ace's brother is seven years older, which means seven years more of experience than him. If he taught him card tricks there are more tricks behind his sleeve.

Deuce is a good boy who wants nothing more than making his mom proud and happy. Mrs Spade is a good woman who wants nothing more than seeing her sweet chick happy. Pure wholesomeness runs in the family.

One fluffy wolf is sweet, but more puppies? What will that do to someone's heart?

The list goes on and on. Ortho wasn't present in every trip but he has heard things. Things that concern him.

Ortho: *I see dangers EVERYWHERE*

Imagine NRC holding a Family Day and Ortho realizing that he has people trying to set up Yuu/MC with their own family members. His rivals? Najma and Cheka. (I'm only using 2 for this even tho others have known siblings/others).

Ortho has the whole school year to set Yuu/MC up with Idia, but this one day can ruin his plans. First, there's Najma, who wants a sister-in-law, keeps bragging about Jamil's talent and also recruited Kalim to back her up. Then, there's Cheka, who wants a new aunt, uses his cuteness to steal Yuu/MC's time before bragging about how cool his Unca Leona is.

In short, Ortho has a lot of planning to do 😅

Edit: I wrote a fic about it here!

[flaphack]

the internet would be a better place if ppl stopped trying to receive validation of their hcs from authors and just lived their truth . does this make sense

[penkura]

OP Men and Their Kids

Note: Hey, this is something I wrote randomly one day instead of paper I needed to work on. :) Don't worry, the paper was finished and turned in. I will also fully admit I have baby fever at this point in my life, I just gotta get a man lol. These are just some headcanon blurbs about a couple OP men and their kids, how many they'd have, the genders, that's all! Hope you like it!

Part Two Here!

Ace has a daughter, then another three years later. He's happy with just those two, he's a great girl dad and his oldest keeps his last name even if she gets married; he cries when his babies get married. If you can convince him to have one more, it'd be a third girl, you wouldn't even complain about it. Ace would cry again, holding her after she's born and happily introducing her to her big sisters. He sees himself, Sabo, and Luffy in the dynamics between his daughters. Your youngest daughter might be a crybaby, but she's the more adventurous of the three and her sisters are her biggest protectors. You're all his girls and Ace couldn't be happier.

~~

Law has a son first, then five or six years later a daughter, both fully planned and prepared for. Then surprise, there's another little boy two years after your daughter, totally unplanned but welcomed all the same. All three are beyond loved, the daughter is definitely named Cora. Your daughter might be a little bit spoiled, but Law tries to even it out amongst the three, that pirate captain side of him coming out as he tries to make sure they're all even. On nights when the five of you settle in your living room, Law still can't believe how lucky and blessed he is to have such a loving family again.

~~

Penguin has two daughters within four years of each other! Girl dad all the way, until the third child comes along and it's a boy, a total surprise, he'd fully expect another little girl. He finds it even more fun to have all three of them, the girls are protective of their baby brother, it almost reminds him of he and Shachi with Law when they were still teens. It's even more apparent how your children parallel that relationship, when your youngest daughter, at six years old, brings your two year old son to you when he's crying from a nightmare, you're both able to comfort and quell his tears. Penguin feels lucky to have all of you, and wants nothing more than for you to all be safe and happy.

~~

Sanji! Has a son AND daughter first, a cute little set of twins! He dotes on them and gives them all the attention they need. Eventually another little girl comes along, then one more boy a couple years after her. Sanji loves them all, but his girls do get just a tad more attention at times, especially once they realize that giving him puppy dog eyes net them whatever they want. Your youngest son attaches to him like glue, wanting to be with Sanji all the time, and he can see the similarities in how alike the two are, minus the abuse of course, and it makes him want to protect your youngest son from the world at times. 

~~

Zoro has a son, one that isn't planned at all. He hadn't even expected to have kids until this little baby boy that looks just like him comes along. After that, he expects that to be it. No more kids, just the one, just your son, until not even three years later you're pregnant again, with a little girl that's just as unplanned. Everyone is shocked, but when she's born, Zoro is instantly wrapped around her tiny finger and she's spoiled rotten by him. Your kids are both loved beyond belief though, both learning how to use a sword as soon as they're big enough to do so. Zoro is the one to convince you to have one more when your daughter is about five, and its a set of twin boys that make you swear off more kids in the end. They also start learning to use the sword one day, your third child falling into the three sword style that just inflates Zoro's pride even more. And yes, his daughter would be named Kuina.

~~

Note 2: I would absolutely marry Zoro and have his babies in a heartbeat. I'm sorry Penguin, I still love you.

Note 3: If you saw this briefly yesterday, no you didn't shut up 😆

[illubean]

HIHIHI!!! I've been following you for a while and i recently saw your toph! reader HC and I've been wondering if I could request for a katara! reader who's really good at waterbending and specialises on healing and blood bending? Could the characters be Gon, Killua, Illumi and the phantom troupe? Hope you eat well and stay healthy!!!

HXH W/ a Katara!Reader

Characters: Gon Freecs, Killua Zoldyck, Illumi Zoldyck, The Phantom Troupe Type: Headcanons, Fem!reader, Platonic

tried making this gn but then I ended up using fem labels a lot >.< also when I see "the phantom troupe" in headcannon requests im just going to write them collectively unless otherwise specified

Warnings: None

Gon Freecs

your older sister/eldest daughter syndrome is very evident around him

he probably doesn't pick up on it but everyone else sees how fiercely protective you are over him

you have a soft spot for children and Gon is literally the sweetest ever so you can't help but want to keep him safe

before the hunter exams, the only role models Gon has ever had in his live have been maternal figures (Mito and his grandma)

you end up becoming another one

which may also be part of the reason he is so respectful and kind

he's ok with your motherly nature mainly because he's very used to it and he can understand where you're coming from

he cares for you as if you guys were blood related

when he went cray in chimera ant arc you were the first person Killua and Leorio thought to call

yk because of your healing ability

you healed him the best you could before Alluka showed up

and scolded him immediately after he recovered

Killua Zoldyck

he likes someone with Toph's rebellious personality but you?

you're a total wet blanket...

your such a stickler, always trying to stop him when he's feeling mischievous

you remind him of how things were back at his estate...

you are not his mother stop acting like it

but whenever you protect him from getting seriously hurt or heal him he's reminded you have good intentions

he knows you're not trying to be manipulative and controlling but god pls loosen up

despite how distant he might present himself he can't help but grow a little emotionally attached to you

he's never had a healthy relationship with his mom...

you are the only normal motherly figure in his life

he acts like he can't stand how you fuss over him but in reality he cares for you deeply and kind of likes that you feel the need to be protective over him

Illumi Zoldyck

unlike his brother, he likes you a lot more than if you were to have Toph's personality

because you remind him of his mother

he doesn't mind your protective nature as long as you don't get in the way

your 'blood bending' technique is of great interest to him..

you are able to use it on normal days and don't have to wait for a full moon because this is my fanfic and I said so

it just happens to be at it's strongest on full moons

he probs starts keeping track of the moon cycles just to take you on missions and see you in action

with the blood bending technique you could literally stop any enemy

a very OP ability indeed....

which is why he keeps you around

you're strong and have a pretty normal personality so there's really no reason for him to dislike you

The Phantom Troupe

it's pretty 50/50 with them

and by that I mean some of them don't mind your motherly personality while others think it's annoying...

mainly Phinks and Feitan; they feel you're too bossy

but the entire troupe can agree that your nen is impressive

1) they have a healer now and 2) your blood-bending is some sort of secret weapon

you get along well with Nobunaga, bonding over your shared soft spot for children

Chrollo probs personally recruited you for your abilities seeing as he couldn't really steal them..

Machi likes having you around because now she has to stitch people up less often

when Kalluto joins, he becomes the one you're most protective over

the younger members see you as an older sibling figure

aka Shizuku(18) Kalluto(12) and Kortopi(he has no canon age as far as I know but I like to imagine he is a child rather than a small adult...)

[dontspillthefrijoles43]

As a Mexican I approve of this message ✅ ✅✅✅

Leo was taught several customs from his roots at an early age, among them that May 5th is not celebrated like the United States does.

— Happy MAY 5TH! — Her neighbor says to her mother and Leo knits his eyebrows together seeing that he wears a charro hat and the supermarket bags full of ingredients for guacamole or tacos. He knows it very well because they are common ingredients in his house.

— yeah, Happy May 5th, Pete— Esperanza says with a slightly crooked smile. He shakes the bags and they exchange a few more words, including a polite invitation to stop by his house later.

— Mum, but you said that we don't celebrate any independence until September 15 — Leo whispers once his neighbor continues walking. His mother looks at him and nods.

— And don't forget it, mijo — She says sweetly. — Cinco de Mayo is actually not celebrated in that way... Effusive, but it's a date to remember a that helps us not forget where we come from. Our resistance here— But the real one with parties is until September.

She said that last bit more lightly and her usual soft expression returned. Leo nods and continues walking hand in hand with his mother.

Now Leo looks out the window while on that day he sees people celebrating and sharing. Also take advantage and enjoy the food but he knows the truth, his mother told him and he will not forget it.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Nik turns 50. TF 141 throw him a surprise party. (As the author continues to build their voices and headcanons in his head.)

cw: none.

“I can't believe Nik’s going to be fifty next week. The man's aging like a fine wine. It must be something in the water over there.”

It had been a fairly innocuous comment by Laswell over one of their frequent phone calls, but it had sent Price into an unfathomable tailspin.

Fifty.

Fifty was a big birthday where Price came from. The kind where the extended family, and wider community around them, were invited to a village hall for an old fashioned knees up, and you ended up carrying your uncle Rodney home so your aunt didn't smother him with a throw pillow after he pissed all over the doorstep.

Price had never really thought much about the families and wider lives of his contacts. They got the job done and then they parted ways. In every sense, a contact held the same position in Price's mind as the weapon in his hand; a tool to be used and then set aside once you were done.

But Nik… Nik was becoming more than a contact. A lot more. Price knew there was no uncle Rodney for Nik. There was no family whatsoever. No one special to mark half a century with, except maybe… fuck.

Price didn't share scotch with just anyone, let alone pass his cigar over for them to take a toke. As much as he respected Laswell, he was never inclined to spend hours with her chattin’ shit, until the sun broke through the blinds and they both had to slam some black coffee so they looked remotely presentable for their operators. His hand never lingered on anyone else's carrier vest, and no one else's voice made warmth and light curl in his chest.

No one else slotted against Price's... everything quite like Nikolai.

Price wasn't stupid. He knew what these signs meant, but that didn't mean he had any idea what the fuck to do about them. It was safer to just… be, too cowardly to progress any further. And yet, this felt like a milestone somehow.

“Captain, are you there? John?”

“Rog, yeah… uh. Continue.”

By the time Price had hung up, he had resolved to do something to mark Nik’s birthday. Laswell had coughed up the exact date and then slyly asked why Price was so interested. Her tone suggested she already had a hunch. “141 tradition,” he'd said, before hanging up. Rude, but she'd cope.

He finished some paperwork and turned in for the night, but sleep didn't come easy. His plans played out across the dark ceiling above his head and each time he settled on a course of action, he picked a hundred holes in it and cast it aside.

“Buy him a bottle of vodka and put a bow on your prick,” Simon said over eggs and bacon. The majority of the base was still asleep, with only a few other troopers skulking around the canteen.

Price choked on his gulp of tea and thumped his chest. “Classy, Simon.”

“You’ve been dancin’ round each other for years,” Simon murmured, rubbing at the stubble below the line of his mask. “Best time as any to pull the trigger.”

“Pot. Kettle. Black,” Price said as he stabbed at the bacon on his plate to emphasise each word.

“Fuck off,” Simon grumbled, “sir.”

Price snorted a laugh and they finished the rest of their breakfast in companionable silence. After a session in the gym, a myriad of brain-numbing meetings and supervising some training runs, Price was no closer to shaking out of his decision paralysis. If they were on mission he could have hashed out a plan without taking a breath, but he… didn't want to fuck this up. It felt too important.

Price was left with no choice but to consult professionals.

“Surprise party,” Soap said gleefully, chucking his playing cards onto the coffee table. “In th’ hanger, we invite him over tae ‘discuss an op’,” Soap lifted his fingers to emphasise the spoken quotation marks, “get Laswell tae send the invite.”

Gaz nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, then he won't suspect anything - oh, oh, I've got Farah's number, we can get her in on it. She’ll know if he’ll want anyone else, and… uh, you know, we’ll get clearance.”

“Right,” Price leaned back, arms folded over his chest. “So, what… we need food, and cake.”

“Aye, sir,” Soap said, squinting. “And booze. Gaz an’ I'll sort the logistics, and ye jus’ need tae sort the pressie.”

“We’re on it, sir. Leave it to us.”

The present. Price could do that. No worries.

Two days later, he stared down at the forty item long Amazon wishlist he had titled “Operation Black Hawk” and had no idea what to get. Something that walked the line of funny but sentimental, that said ‘you’re hot as fuck but I'm not desperate but I absolutely wank over you in the shower’.

“Fuckin Christ,” Price whispered at this office ceiling, slouched deep in his chair. He closed his eyes and forced his mind to quiet but for thoughts of Nik. Think, think.

So many conversations, ice tinkling against glass, low chuckles and borish jokes; a warm palm on Price’s shoulder and a smile so toothy it was contagious. Endless memories of time at Nik’s side. There had been that summer Nik had come fishing with him. Just a few days of peace before they both returned to the field. Nik had snoozed through most of it, exhausted by their previous mission, but in between he had surveyed the lake, watching the insects flit across the water.

“Poprygun'ya strekoza, leto krasnoye propela,” Nikolai had murmured.

“Cursing my ancestors?” Price had asked before gulping down a mouthful of beer.

Nik had chuckled. “Nyet, captain. It means a playful prankish Dragonfly, the whole summer have sung out. It is a poem by Ivan Karylov. One of my favourites.”

“Yeah? What's it about?”

“It is a fable...”

“Oh bloody hell, not another Russian morality lesson.”

“Pssh, this is good one. You will like it,” Nik had sat up in his camping chair. “It is about a beautiful dragonfly who spends her summer dancing and resting, while the hardworking ant prepares. When winter comes, she begs the ant for help, but he refuses, because he worked hard and she did not.”

“Harsh but fair. Work hard, play hard, them’s the rules..”

“You see, I knew you would like it. You are an ant. You earn your rest. This,” Nik had gestured at fishing tackle, the camping equipment, and the lake, “is the fruit of your labour, and I am privileged to share it with you, my friend.”

“And I you, mate.”

They had knocked their bottles together and moments later one of Price’s reels had begun spinning out. By that point they'd drunk so much that landing the damn carp had left them both up to their knees in lake water, pissing themselves laughing on the bank. It had been both the worst and best fishing expedition of Price’s life.

Price opened his eyes in the present and grinned at the ceiling, digging his phone out of his pocket. He knew exactly what he was going to get Nik.

The rest of the week sprinted by quicker than a RAF pilot on his way to a champagne dinner, and before he knew it Price was standing on a rickety plastic chair hanging a bloody banner from a rusty nail high on the hanger wall.

“It's wonky, cap,” Gaz said just as Price was climbing down.

“I think you'll find your eyes are wonky, sergeant.”

“Of course, sir. I'll get that sorted.”

Price pressed his hands to the small of his back and glanced around at the preparations. The sergeants had done well. Soap had even managed to draft Simon in on the booze run and there was a healthy selection of spirits on the buffet table by the birthday cake. It was a Colin Caterpillar from Marks and Spencers, one of Nik's favourite shops to visit when he was in the UK, with a joke candle stuck in the top that he wouldn't be able to blow out. Soap's idea.

The majority of Chimera had turned up to mark the occasion, as had a few faces Price recognised from previous ops with other organisations and task forces. Soap had said a few didn't quite pass the bar for security clearance, which wasn't surprising.

It was just as Gaz and Soap were bickering over the playlist that they heard the telltale drum of helicopter blades beat overhead. “Places, places!” Soap crowed from the hanger door, slamming the lights off. Booted feet scuttled across the dusty floor to find hiding places behind the vehicles and crates stacked around the edges, and Price joined Soap by the door.

Several minutes passed, and then… “And you have no idea where the weapons store is?”

“None at all, Nik. Price should have more intel,” Laswell replied. She had rendezvoused with Nik in Germany as part of the plan. Her wife was currently squatting behind a crate with Gaz.

“I hope so or this will be a difficult mission.”

Soap was practically vibrating at Price's shoulder as Nik rounded the corner. He slammed on the lights and everyone erupted from their hiding places on cue. Price didn't miss how Nik’s hand dropped for his sidearm, his eyes blown wide.

“Laswell, what is–?”

“Happy birthday, Nikolai,” she said, walking by to plant a kiss on her wife's cheek.

“I–” Nik glanced around the hanger as he accepted hugs from Gaz and Syd, handshakes from others, still bewildered. “How–?”

“It was th’ captain's idea,” Soap said, jutting his chin at Price. “He told us ye were hittin’ the big five-oh, old man. Ye not gettin’ off that easy.”

“Here, drink,” Simon grunted, pressing a glass into Nik's hand. “I'm startin’ the food, Johnny. I've been patient.”

“Aye, L.T. Bust open th’ sarnies. Farah, th’ ones on the left are halal - aye, bet.”

Nik was drawn into conversation briefly and Price hung back, glancing at the badly wrapped parcel he'd stashed on top of an empty oil container. He was so focused on his internal misgivings that Nik’s hand on his elbow made him startle. “Oi, give me a bloody heart attack…”

“You did this?”

“MacTavish and Garrick did this,” Price said.

Nik, who knew that the 141 did nothing without Price's express permission, grinned toothily. They stood in silence as he surveyed the many faces scattered around the hanger, some shoving sandwiches in their faces while others swigged from freshly open bottles. “I… have never had a birthday party before.”

“What? Not even as a kid?”

Nik shrugged one shoulder. “Nyet, it was not a… priority.” He looked back at Price, dark eyes heavy with something complex and unreadable. “Thank you.”

Price swallowed and tried to ignore the heat creeping up his neck. “You're uh… you're welcome, I… got you something. But, uh…” Before he could wuss out, Price grabbed the poorly wrapped parcel and shoved it into Nik's hands. “Happy birthday.”

Nik set his glass aside. “Your wrapping skills are…”

“Bloody fantastic.”

“...unique.”

“I'll take it.”

Nik huffed a laugh as he tore the brown paper away and flipped the book over in his hands. Price was relieved to see his face brighten. “Aesop’s fables. Captain, this is beautiful…”

To be fair, it was a damn pretty book. The hardcover was illustrated with the animals from the fables, the pages edged in gold, and the inside cover was patterned. You know… posh. And then Nik found the second part, tucked about a quarter of the way through. It was a photograph from their fishing expedition. A rough selfie, with half a fish head in shot where Nik was trying to display their catch, and Price’s face smeared with mud from where he had stumbled onto the bank.

Nik's eyes lingered on it, his fingertips brushing over their grinning faces, and he swallowed.

Price panicked. “I'm sorry, it's shit, I'll uhm–”

Nik pulled him into an embrace that crushed the air from his lungs. There was definitely a stutter in Nik’s chest, and Price wrapped his arms around him in return. If he happened to turn his nose into Nik's neck, and Nik happened to press his face a little closer, then that was fine. More than fine.

Price's toes curled in his boots, his fingers tightened in Nik’s shirt, the aching in his chest becoming that much harder to ignore. “You alright?”

“Da,” Nik said tightly. “I just need a minute.”

“Take all the time you need,” Price murmured, closing his eyes as he cradled Nik against him. He didn't mark the time, happy to revel in the warmth of the solid body in his arms, and the smell of Nik's skin, pressed so close Price could feel the thrum of his heartbeat.

When Nik finally pulled away, slightly reddened eyes lingered on Price’s lips before turning to the rest of the party, who were doing a shitty job of pretending they hadn't all been watching. “Later, I would… like to spend some time with you.”

Price didn't want to examine the heat under his skin too closely, lest it be entirely misplaced. “Course.”

“Nik, get over ‘ere tae blow th’ oot before Ghostie eats yer cake’s face!”

Nik tucked his book under his arm and walked over to the buffet table with Price to a horrifically off-key rendition of ‘happy birthday’. Once Nik had worked the candles out, flicking them at Soap with a loud Russian cuss, festivities descended, as they usually did on base, into raucous drinking games and whatever the sergeants decided passed for dancing. Simon lost the Ring of Fire and had to down the filthiest pint Price had ever seen in his life, Laswell thrashed them all at beer pong and Gaz tried to teach Farah how to do the worm. As far as fiftieth birthday parties went, it definitely beat out the village hall knees up.

Later, when the majority of the party had slunk off to dark corners, fallen asleep where they sat or retired in good order, Nik pulled his captain back into his arms and kept him there until the sun rose. Except, this time, they did a damn sight more than talk.

[ventismacchiato]

🎮 behind the lens!

a social media streamer au | scaramouche x gender neutral reader

synopsis - you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

genre - enemies/rivals to lovers, streamer and youtuber au, college setting, crack, slight angst

status completed ✔️

warnings time stamps don’t matter, characters including y/n are portrayed as young adults, mentions of alcohol, nsfw

sideships xiao x aether, kazuha x heizou

↳ playlist

STREAM IS STARTING...

featuring…

↳ stardust and friends | balladeer and friends

ACT ONE: raiding your heart!

01. kicking my feet and giggling

02. beat my ass

03. get out of my notifications

04. id donate for nudes

05. pls be ugly

06. now wait a damn minute

07. throwing up and crying

08. do you get deja vu

09. would you love me if i was bald

10. passenger princess

11. would you bark for me

12. breaking my silence

13. caught in 4k

ACT TWO: you're live!

14. he’s cheating on us?!

15. damage control

16. chat going crazy

17. breaking character

18. #JUNGKOOK

19. drowned cat core

bonus — heizou’s theory

20. twitch con

21. city of love

22. he who must not be named

23. and there’s only one bed

24. how to get akumatized 101

25. a glimpse of us

26. the ship has sunk

27. best of both worlds

28. something in the water

ACT THREE: cut the camera!

29. gatekeeping the sexy

30. show yourself

31. hold on i’m processing

32. sad quotes bot

33. please leave a message after the tone

34. were you silent or silenced

35. they don’t know about us

36. plot twist we’re dating

37. co-op irl! that’s called hanging out

38. stop asking for esex

39. out of character

40. paper rings

bonus — fuck me like i’m famous 🔞

41. truth or drink

42. epilogue; curtain call

ACT FOUR: fuck capitalism!

43. extra headcanons

44. stardust merch

45. balladeer merch

46. scarastar collab merch

STREAM HAS ENDED...

[bethanydelleman]

Okay but (if you don't mind--please ignore this otherwise) what is your take on the "strategical importance of Jane" post? I read it and op makes an interesting assertion about Elizabeth's plans for her life. Definitely not one I have seen before, either on Tumblr or by Austen scholars and I was wondering how you would critique it.

Here is the post. Also, I said this in the notes of that post, so this isn't a sneaky take down. I made my opinion clear to OP.

The part about Elizabeth not wanting love but respect in marriage and about her watching her parent's horrible marriage is absolutely correct and in the novel. The Gardiners would also likely help if Mr. Bennet died, though they have 4 children of their own and possibly will have more, which would stretch their funds.

Here are the problems:

This posts states that Elizabeth's backup plan is to live with a married Jane, as if this is a fact, not headcanon. It is headcanon at best, a gross misinterpretation of Elizabeth at worst. There is zero textual evidence in the book for this interpretation. And Austen has given such evidence: Anne Elliot in Persuasion thinks to herself that if her father marries she'll just live with Lady Russell.

Elizabeth does not refuse Collins because she has Jane as a fallback, she rejects Collins because she cannot marry such an idiot. She is risking genteel poverty because for her, being married to someone like Mr. Collins is worse. If you say she wasn't worried because she has a backup plan, you make her less brave and less principled.

Elizabeth has no reason to be so sure Jane will marry. Jane's been "out" for seven years now and has 1 (one) flirtation for her mom to brag about. As Austen says in another novel, "But there certainly are not so many men of large fortune in the world as there are pretty women to deserve them."

That post is a headcanon, and I think it's a very wrong one. Elizabeth is not consciously thinking to herself, "Eh, I can reject as many men as I want, because Jane will marry rich." She is just living her life as best she can, hoping to meet someone to love and marry.

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

My headcanon is kinda that Stede commissioned the primary wardrobe first (hence the designation: it was there first) and the auxiliary wardrobe was actually intended to be something else entirely. It's a whole room after all. My guess is it might have been intended to be a study of sorts.

Like a few other things on the Revenge, that makes sense when you take into account that Stede originally wanted to take his wife and family with him for a fun cruise. That's how he originally pitches the whole ship thing to Mary: as a fun family cruise ship. And I think the Revenge really was designed to be a pleasure cruise ship in the beginning when he first commissioned it. It's beautiful. It's flashy. It's impractical as fuck for actual piracy. It doesn't have a brig. It doesn't seem to be particularly fast (the Spanish ships are faster for example). It doesn't even have a pirate flag in the beginning! Because it was never intended for piracy at the start.

The little bedroom that Oluwande and Jim share? That was probably intended to be Alma and Louis's room. Stede's bed in the captain's cabin is clearly big enough for two. Because it was intended to be used by two people.

Stede, when he started to have the ship built, started out from what was socially expected of him, or as close to as possible. He dreamed of running away to become a pirate, and I don't think he really wanted Mary there, but he's married with kids, so they have to come along to sea, and he had the ship built as a sort of compromise. As with most things Stede compromised with in his marriage, it didn't go very far and it was very bad and didn't at all consider Mary's (or the kids') needs beyond the basic "oh they need a place to sleep I guess".

Stede's hoarding of clothes is something he's aware of to be an aberration. The way he talks about it makes clear he knows he isn't supposed to have a hundred of jackets, and they aren't supposed to be flashy, flamboyant colours, either. In all the scenes we see of Stede's old life, the one he ran from and the one he briefly returns to, his clothes are muted colours. So we know that a Stede trying to fit into this society is a Stede trying to dress a certain way, and I think this extended into his initial plans for dressing designing the ship. There was no second wardrobe planned. The cabin had one wardrobe, because one wardrobe is perfectly normal to have, it's what is expected, and like the bed, it was maybe even intended to also contain Mary's clothing (if Stede thought that far). The one wardrobe was planned and being built in the size and manner that seemed expected and reasonable. The auxiliary wardrobe room was something else IMO. I think Stede likes a private room away from his family, where he can read his books in peace and stuff like that, and so there is a secret little room, accessible from the library. A cozy little hideaway.

And then Mary says no to going to sea. She very empathically says no to going to sea. It's maybe the first time she loudly and clearly says no to anything (neither of them really get to say no a lot I think). And Stede's reaction to Mary's face is "yeah, okay, no going to sea, I'll get it stopped, ah, no, there is nothing to stop actually, just an idea, forget I said anything".

But we all know he doesn't get it stopped. This whole moment is sort of underrated IMO, because yes it's Mary saying no to Stede, which is important, and it's also Stede saying no, even if he doesn't say it out loud. For both of them this is a boundary being crossed. It's one of the big things that makes the "relationship" break apart. But this is the point where Stede decides to actually run. He can't keep living like this. He's going to have a ship built in secret. He's going to run away, and if he's gonna do it, he might as well go all in. Might as well do it right. Mary doesn't want part of it, so Stede doesn't have to include her. He doesn't have to even try to make room for his old life on the Revenge. It's gonna be his ship, his ship alone, and it's gonna be just what he wants.

Maybe he went to buy cannons first, for the proper pirate thing. Though they may have been included anyway; it wasn't unusual for any ship at that time to have cannons (to defend from pirates).

And then I imagine him in his (his alone!) cabin. Buying clothes to bring to his adventures. He buys the clothes he wants now. He buys an adventure outfit complete with a hat and matching shovel. To hunt for treasure! He buys the colourful coats he always wanted. But the wardrobe already contains some of the old clothes, and he's running out of space. And there's that secret little room that was meant just for him, but the entire ship is just for him now, and so the auxiliary wardrobe is born.

You're absolutely right about how much more practical the auxiliary wardrobe is than the primary wardrobe. Stede probably doesn't use the primary wardrobe near as much, despite the name. Because the auxiliary wardrobe is what he had built for himself, it's what he really wanted to have in his living space.

It's whimsical. It's over the top, a secret closet full of all the fancy things he loves. It's 100% Stede. And when he sets out to sea, he doesn't share it with his crew. He's got a perfectly reasonable primary wardrobe to share and show after all, the indulgent auxiliary wardrobe is his and his alone. A private, secret space.

Until he meets a friendly stranger who also seems to fancy a fine fabric.

"Primary" closet?

So it's all fun jokes about clotheshorse Stede and his multiple closets, but have you guys taken any time to look in his actual primary closet? Because its... it's just not in any way functional to dress himself on a daily basis.

So first, there's only one hanger rail, and as near as I can tell, it seems to be a mixture of frock coats and waistcoats, but no breeches (like we saw Stede hung breeches in the aux closet).

There are only 24 hangers on it (maybe up to 38 if we assume there were hangers removed for each of the frock coats and waistcoats in which Stede costumed his crew), which is a lot, but if there's a waistcoat to match ever frock coat, that's only 19 of each. I'll admit I'm a bit of a clotheshorse myself, but I'm pretty sure I have 19 dresses in my closet. So where are the shirts, breeches, and stockings? NOT IN THE PRIMARY CLOSET, THAT'S FOR SURE!

Here's the best pic I can get of the other side: There's a cabinet with some wigs and atomizers on top. Another waistcoat for some reason, with his little tricorn hat from the first episode balanced on top. a couple of shoe forms, and his parasol. We see a reflection of the interior of the cabinet in the 1st episode, and it appears to be empty except for a couple of wig forms.

Stede does have a chest-of-drawers at the foot of his bed, but it only has, like, 3 fairly shallow drawers, and 4 very small drawers (prolly for shoe ribbons, garters, handkerchiefs and maybe stockings or cravats):

So he prolly gets his base layer on in the bed nook when he gets up in the morning, and then goes to the primary closet for the waistcoat and coat, but even so, considering the aux closet has not only two much longer hanging rails, at least one 7-drawer dresser, several chests, various hatboxes, and a whole armoire?

The aux wardrobe is SO much more practical as a primary source for garments.

[nwjn-z]

ꕥ﹐ STAN MARSH ．﹗﹑

₊ ⊹ ⪩⪨ ┆What it is like dating Stan Marsh headcanons.

warning(s): nsfw, swearing

author’s note: been thinking about him

⎯⎯⎯ ☆

SFW☆

-Stan takes his relationship with you very seriously and tries his hardest to be the best he can for you

-Stan isn’t the type to go all out for holidays like Valentines bc he views it as just another day he loves you

-but he does get you flowers and a big ass teddy bear

-contrary to popular belief I think Stan’s main love language is touch, he is very touch starved and just loves holding you or being held

-he is prone to depressive episodes and just having you hold him and provide him comfort is something he loves

-I feel like he’s the type to tag/send you tons of tiktoks (and ig reels)

-he love love LOVES playing video games with you

-I think of him as more of a console player so he loves playing co-op games with you on xbox

-Stan is a shooter game kind of man so if you agree he would love to play games like Call of Duty with you

-gives you kisses every time you kill someone and says “nice one babe” 🤭

-He also likes playing sports and going camping (he’s soo small town all American white boy)

-so with that being said he would want to do those things with you even if it’s just showing off at football practice while you watch

-or filling the bed of his truck with blankets and pillows so you can star gaze together

-will make fun of you for not being as “rugged” as him but still loves pampering you

-likes driving you around while listening to music and getting fast food

-you once put on red lipstick and put a kiss mark on his guitar and loved it so much he refuses to wipe it off so it’s still there

NSFW☆

-Stan can be both rough and soft but he’s more of love maker

-although Stan is shown to have really aggressive angry outbursts due to his depression so i do think that would make its way into your sex life

-love love loves cuddle fucking, he LIVES for that shit

-just thinking about holding you while he ruts himself deep inside you gets him weak in the knees

-He’s actually pretty loud, and likes to let go during sex

-he’s always really tired or stressed so he uses sex as a way to forget all his problems and just focus on you and how you make him feel

-his favourite positions are cuddling and cowgirl

-loves watching how pretty you look riding him while he gropes your ass or tits

-his sex drive waivers, but when he’s in the mood it’s hard to get him out

-he’s the type to like risky sex, aka will fuck you in public or even while his family is home

-Stan’s all time favourite part about sex is the tension before and foreplay

-it’s just something about the making out while tugging off each others clothes impatiently and then the sensual touches without going all the way that just get him going

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

could I request headcanons of uvo, chrollo, and phinks with a little sibling figure reader in the troupe and she’s ten years old maybe? :) platonic ofc . tysm and it’s ok if u can’t do this request ! (If three characters is too much just uvogin is ok ^_^)

Of course! I hope you enjoy!

Uvogin, Chrollo, and Phinks with a little sibling figure in the troupe

Warnings: none

Female! Reader

Uvo:

I know Uvo’s a violent man, but I feel like he would be the softest in the world with you, which is unusual because he helped kill an entire clan, including the children

-I mean first of all, he’s very impressed by the fact that your a ten year old and also in the freaking phantom troupe, with enough training you could even defeat him over time!

-He very quickly decides he’s gonna look out for you wether it be in training, missions, or just when your all hanging around waiting for orders

-Speaking of training, he wants to see you reach your full potential as soon as possible, so he spars with you often. He won’t go easy on you, but he won’t seriously injure you either, he’s very aware that your both physically smaller and more mentally immature than he is (at his old ass age) so he’s aware that he has an advantage when it comes to fighting

-You learn a lot from fighting him though, he may make harmless taunts every now and then but he gives very constructive criticism and it does help improve your fighting skills significantly, perks of sparring with one of the strongest troupe members I guess

-He play whatever games you want in during times when there’s nothing to do, especially when your on guard duty with nothing to entertain you. He makes a surprisingly good playmate (he’ll let you play with his hair too)

-He keeps an eye on you during missions, but he’s well aware you can hold your own, you wouldn’t be in the troupe otherwise. That being said, if something gets serious enough (like Kurapika’s case for example) then he won’t hesitate to defend you with his life. There’s not a lot of people he’s willing to die for, but you’re one of them

-I kinda see him like a cool uncle more then a brother, idk why but he just gives off those vibes

Chrollo:

-I think Chrollo’s quite fond of children personally, he’ll still kill them if their in the way of achieving a goal but I don’t think he enjoys it and he also wouldn’t kill a child for no reason like he would an adult

-He’s very impressed by your power level, your a very useful addition to the troupe and he plans on utilizing that as much as possible

-But he does genuinely come to care for you later on though, that’s not surprising considering how the troupes practically family anyways

-He let’s you sit with him during meetings if you want, your also the only troupe member that’s allowed to touch him without explicit permission beforehand

-He doesn’t involve himself too much with you, but he does keep an eye on you more than he does the others, you may be powerful but your still young, it’s not easy living this kinda life at your age

-He’s the one to introduce you to the troupe and he’s also the one to make sure you get acquainted with the troupe without any issue, he can and will threaten any troupe member that is too unkind to you

-Like Uvo, he’s not concerned about you during missions, he’s very well aware of your powers, he’s probably the most familiar with them out of all the troupe members since he had to recruit you

-I honestly can’t see him treating you too differently from the other troupe members, your tough, you have incredible potential, he doesn’t see the need to coddle you like some of the other members might

Phinks:

-He’s skeptical if you at first, why did Chrollo choose you of all people? The troupe is no place for a child as young as you

-After seeing you fight for the first time though he’s immediately like “damn maybe she does belong in here” and now he’s curious as to how you turned out this way in the first place

-Phinks doesn’t approach you right away, he ops to observe you from afar for awhile, but the longer your in the troupe the more you inevitably interact

-For some reason, the two of you are put on missions often, so you grow very attached to him and he’s very confused about it. He has no idea why you cling to him specifically but he gets used to it after some time

-He’s definitely the most protective of you out of the group, he’ll never let you know how much you’ve grown on him but he makes sure nobody bothers you

-Especially on missions, in theory he knows you can hold your own but when your actually fighting and in danger he tries to do the bulk of the fighting no matter how much you protest

-He’s afraid to train with you because he fears he might hurt you, he’s a tough dude who doesn’t hold back when fighting so he’s not sure how well he could hold his strength against you

-He’ll “begrudgingly” (not really tho) play games with you if you ask him nice enough, but he’ll make lighthearted complaints the entire time

-Fears that your gonna die during your time in the troupe, it’s a very dangerous job and your super young compared to most of the guys they fight

-We have a tsundere older brother over here everyone lol

[writingoddess1125]

Modern AU Buggy X Reader

Buggy x GnReader

Just fluffy Headcanon!

• Buggy is the leader of a budget theater group that he spends nights writing or getting his people to practice for local shows- during the day however he has his own Boat Charter company and a second business of a delivery company.

• Has Rhinophyma and Roseaca which is why his nose is so large and red. Hates it and has been to so many dermatologist to get it fixed- but due to blood flow and other things will have it for life.

• Has a deep anger towards his half brother Shanks- He feels like their mentor Gol D Roger's who owned a large shipping company when he died it should have been Shanks who owned the shop to keep the legacy alive. Buggy would have been willing to follow Shanks if he did this since he knew he cohldnt- But Shanks ended up just leaving town and Buggy trying to keep it together before it finally went belly up.

• Secretly wanted to be an actor but never got the chops for it due to his nose-

• When you first meet Buggy its at one of the plays, it's a fun improve night. While not many people are there you go with some friends since you found the tickets online.

• You're one of the few people that actually play along with the act and seem to be enjoying themselves. Instead of half drunk college students that got the tickets off groupon-

• He has you come down to the stage and does a whole improve act with you, Being such a good sport you end up helping him get the crowd more engaged.

• Buggy invites you to do shows with him which you agree to. Hum giving you his number in exchange

• Showing up every Thursday to the improv nights and you start becoming friends with his theater group. Noticing how Buggy seemed much happier as you got along with everyone-

• After a few months he works up the courage to ask you out on a date, which you gladly accept.

• At first he tries to take you to the most expensive places but when you express he doesn't have to spend money to show he lives you- He gets more creative and thoughtful.

• Walks through the beach, coffee dates, going to musicals together.

• His favorite are movie nights, He will show off his limited cooking skills aka Hot Dogs and a assortment of junk food while the two of you watch mostly terrible F Tier movies together.

- "Which one did you find?" You call out from the kitchen getting some soda for yourself and Buggy.

"It's called Jesus Christ Vampire Hunter {OP note: This is a real movie- absolutely awful}" Buggy yelled out, laughing at just the name as you jump onto the big couch and hand him his drink as he eats some chips.

"That sounds absolutely awful" You say, looking at the cheap movie cover and reading the back with a snort. Buggy nods, patting himself on the back for finding such garbage.

"It truly is, I've outdone myself" He says proudly before the two of you start the terrible adventure. Having to pause the movie at times for laughing so damn hard-

"This is so bad!" You say as you laugh and roll on the floor- Buggy no better. However he wiped the tears from his eyes as he caught his breath.

"While we can laugh at least he made a movie-" He pointed out with a shrug, you sitting next to him and raising a eyebrow at the oddly kind words from Buggy.

"What do you mean?"

"I always wanted to make a movie- But I doubt anyone would watch them.. they barely watch my shows" He muttered, his insecurities getting to him as he subconsciously touched his nose. You reaching over and grabbing his hand quickly, kissing his lips to snap him from his terrible thoughts.

"What are you talking about?! I think your shows are great and I know you'd do a fantastic job making a movie!" You proclaimed loudly with a smile, your Boyfriend turning and staring hard at you.

He stares at you- like youd said the craziest thing ever. You feeling a creep of worry going up your back at how he was looking at you

"What is your ring size?" He finally ask and gestures to your ring finger making you blush deeply red.