#of vices and men

[perseephoneee]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓥𝓘𝓘

In which, you, a lady of the ton, are forced to participate in courting season. Except that courting season comes with one particularly silver tongued Prince who is making it his mission to drive you absolutely insane.

↳ fic masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

a/n: the penultimate chapter, everyone. I can't believe we've made it so far. i hope this story kinda works...it was my first time doing longform and one day i will rewrite all of this to make more sense, but for now its as it is. I love you all.

Loki knew it was improper of him to have met you without a chaperone-like that, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He wanted, no need, to see you. Damn the consequences. Still, guilt gnawed at him. You were innocent in these games, merely appeasing a figure bigger than yourself. He could relate to that.

On Sundays, he had breakfast with his mother. Thor was usually in meetings with the Allfather, but Loki was never truly wanted there and preferred to spend time with the lady of the house anyway. Their usual tea and assortment of pastries didn’t improve wasn't his mood, though, and he still felt contemplative. Frigga noticed.

"My son, what is wrong?" She questioned, putting her teacup down. She always drank jasmine, a delicacy they got from Odin's dealings with China. She preferred the lighter floral flavor to the Queen's English breakfast tea.

"Nothing is wrong, Mother," Loki lied, the words rolling off his tongue with ease. He was always good with lies. Unfortunately, his mother was even better at seeing through them.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with the Chilton girl, would it? The one your brother didn't marry?" Frigga delicately grabbed a scone as if she were discussing the weather. She was trained to gather information without making it seem like she was. Another thing Loki learned from her. 

"The mamas of the ton gathered for tea the other day, and her Grandmother was discussing it," Frigga continued on. "Dreadful woman, truly, I don't envy those two girls."

Loki hid a laugh behind his hand, coughing instead and taking another sip of tea. 

"She was very loudly complaining about her youngest granddaughter's willful spirit and how it would give her a heart attack one of these days," Frigga chuckled. Loki got the sense she remembered the many times he and Thor had given her a scare.

"Some of the other mamas made comments about how you and she seemed to spend more time together than she and Thor," Frigga spooned some sugar into her tea. "So, my son, I will ask you again if anything is wrong."

Loki took a pause at that, holding his tongue. He drummed his fingers on the table. 

"I won't answer things you already know."

"Did something happen?" His mother raised a brow, a challenge in her gaze. His stubbornness was less from his father and more from his mother. She could will any man into submission.

"Nothing happened, mama," Loki sighed. Not a lie. Nothing happened. Although he wanted it to happen. He wanted to press his lips to yours, breathe in your scent, hold you so you could never fall away from him. Instead, he let go. He wouldn't be the stain on your life that he is on his fathers. 

Frigga pursed her lips, observing him. She set down her tea cup and rested her hands on the table, something she only did when she was about to say something of importance. Loki braced himself for a lecture. 

"Your brother is not a jealous man, and your father is a hard one to please," Frigga stated. "The only thing in the way of your happiness is yourself. I did not raise a fool." With that, Frigga excused herself from tea, leaving her son alone at the table. The only sound left in the room was the clicking of the grandfather clock, the minute hand matching the pace of his thoughts. 

Loki liked you. He might even love you. That was the only logical explanation for his delusions. He rubbed his eyes, hating the tension building up behind them as he thought of the chaos he had caused by even getting involved in the life of you. 

"Mother said I might find you here," Thor said from the doorway, walking over to the now vacant seat. Loki glanced up as Thor poured himself some tea. Or attempted to. He spilled some creamer and burned his fingers, picking up the cup from the body, not the handle. 

"You need to wait for it to cool," Loki sighed, wiping up the spilled creamer. It's appalling to Loki that his oaf of a brother is the one expected to take over the Odinson household. 

"I don't often drink tea."

"Clearly."

"But that's not why I'm here, brother," Thor ignores his jab, gingerly sipping his tea and visibly relaxing when it doesn't burn his tongue. 

"Oh joy," Loki leaves the table, strolling towards one of the setees. He, of course, does this quite dramatically. 

"I always thought you be clever, but I am shocked to find you acting so idiotic," Thor puts his tea down, standing up and heading Loki's way. 

"How dare you–"

"Lady Y/N is obviously enamored with you, and you with her. I don't understand why you aren't doing anything about it," Thor sighs. "Is it your own stubbornness? A sense of pride? Please explain it to me."

"I am not enamored with her, and it is not stubbornness," Loki hisses. "She can do better than me, a second son, anyway."

"Is that what you truly believe? That you are really just a second son?"

Loki doesn't respond to that. He just stares out of the window overlooking the room. His mother was inspired by Greek architecture and, therefore, put arched pillars as separators for the open windows. They overlooked the veranda, which was starting to transition into autumn. Oh, how time has passed. 

"I will be leaving for France in the coming months."

Loki turned to his brother, hiding a shock that otherwise would have covered his face. 

"Leaving? For what?"

"For war," Thor said. "Napolean is out of exile, and his troops are approaching Waterloo. I intend to be there alongside my brothers."

"You must be mad."

"Perhaps," Thor laughed. "But I have always wanted to fight, not to sit behind a desk and manage the affairs of a household. You have always been a better diplomat. I much prefer being a soldier." His brother took a seat on the settee, running a hand through his hair and waiting for Loki to sit down. "Allfather will be declaring you the heir as soon as you are wed. So, no, Loki, you are not the second son. You are the better one."

"I don't deserve you," Loki frowned, finally sitting down next to Thor. "You are a better brother than I could ever be."

"Life has not always been kind to you; that is alright; you are learning," Thor said, placing a hand on Loki's shoulder, demanding his attention. "You deserve peace, and you are allowed to have it."

It is not often that Loki becomes emotional. He is used to putting aside his own wants for the needs of the crown. He is used to enduring verbal backlash from his father over every little thing. He is used to being ignored when his brother enters a room. So often, he felt like a tablepiece in his own home. But truly, he was an idiot. His brother saw him the whole time. 

Without another word, Loki embraced his brother, shocking them both. He was done being a tablepiece. He wanted to be seen. 

~

"Letter!" Ivy screamed from the bottom of the stairs, immediately being shushed by one of the housekeepers. Immediately after your rendezvous with Loki, you had told Ivy everything. All of your fears, wants, and concerns. You had actively been courted by Thor; you couldn't pursue Loki. But he put you in a compromising position that could have gotten you in trouble in society. Did you like Loki? Or did you convince yourself you did? These were the questions swirling around your brain all week. Ivy was in favor of you running off and eloping if only to annoy Grandmother. You hit her with a pillow for that statement. 

"Why would I be receiving a letter?" You ask, descending the stairs as you glared at the offending item. 

"No clue, but I think you should look at it," Ivy said coyly. You got the distinct impression she knew exactly what this letter was about. You took it out of her grasp, peeling off the wax seal and reading the inked words. 

Meet me at the ball by midnight tonight when we first conversed. 

Loki

"So?" Ivy peered over your shoulder. "What did he say?"

"Poetic things," you drawled. "He has such a way with words."

"You're lucky the man likes your sharp tongue; otherwise, you'd scare off all the suitors," Ivy sighed. You suppressed a small smile. "So? Are you going?"

"Did you write this?" You ask her, turning around and crossing your arms. 

"Of course I didn't!"

"Really?"

"I am not one to lie, sister," Ivy grabbed your hands, pulling you closer. "I am only the messenger. A messenger that is urging you to listen for once in your life." You only glared at your sister. 

"I have nothing to wear."

"I already bought you a dress."

"You've been planning this, haven't you?"

"Perhaps," Ivy shrugged. "Now, c'mon! I want enough time to transform you."

You indeed didn't have a choice. Ivy was persistent when she set her mind to something. She yanked your hair left and right to transform it into a perfectly curled and pinned high bun. The dress she chose was unlike anything you had ever seen before, and you had no clue where she could've possibly afforded something like it. It was a deep green with a traditional empire waist, but the bodice was covered in a lacy emerald green fabric and decorated with a glimmery trim. The skirt faded to a lighter emerald green at the bottom, giving the appearance of a forest being lit up by the sunrise. You wore your mother's necklace to match, something that grounded the outfit into something wholesome yet romantic. 

"You look ethereal," Ivy looked at you in the vanity mirror. "You look like Mom."

You smiled, turning around to envelop your sister in a hug. "I love you, Ivy." She just squeezed you tighter. "I never want to go to another ball again; this is ridiculously tiresome." Ivy laughed at that and let you go, smoothing down the parts of your dress that got scrunched up. 

This event took place outside, a last-ditch effort to enjoy the weather before winter set in. The ball was set on the lake, with a variety of lanterns floating through the waters and hanging around the pavilion where guests danced. It looked like a twinkling city, and it was one of the few times when your breath was taken away. 

You were already getting more stares than usual from other people, perhaps because it was the first time you dressed up. Or perhaps because everyone knew that Thor didn't propose to you. You ignored their stares and found the first drink you could. It was a long way till midnight, and your nerves were already getting the better of you. You hiked up your skirts and found your way to the water's edge, where workers were helping guests set out lanterns of their own. You asked one of them if the lights were just for decoration or if there was a specific meaning. 

"To drive out the darkness of winter and hope for a longer spring, m'lady," he bowed, offering you a lantern of your own. You accepted graciously, finding a quiet place farther down the shore to push your lantern out. 

"Making a wish?" a familiar voice said. You turned to see Loki, arms crossed and looking every bit the prince he was meant to be. 

"Driving away the darkness, at least that's what they told me," you gestured towards where most of the partygoers were. 

"I believe in some traditions; it is also to honor the dead."

"What a somber occasion for a party."

"I surmise they didn't truly know the reason; they thought it would be pretty." Loki shrugged, earning a chuckle from you. You closed up again, remembering that awkward encounter all those nights ago. Turning to your lantern, you looked at the water before returning to the prince. 

"We need more lanterns," you declared, marching back to the initial servant who gave you yours. Loki followed behind, not saying anything, but you could tell he wanted to ask. You got three more lanterns and passed two to Loki, returning to the spot you scoped out before. 

"Do I dare ask what you're doing?"

"Honoring the deceased," you crouched down, taking one of the lanterns from Loki so you had three. He joined you on the ground, letting you have a moment with your three lanterns. Taking a breath, you pushed them all out on the water. He waited for a second to let his drift away as well. 

"To your sister," you said, bowing your head slightly. 

"To your family, may they find brighter shores," Loki breathed, eyes softening as he looked at you. 

You both continued sitting on the shores, not making a move to get up. If anyone caught you in this position, it would be trouble, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. 

"We can't go back, can we?" you whispered, looking out at the lanterns getting farther and farther from shore.

"No, we can't."

"Then, why haven't you asked me?" your voice cracked slightly, your eyes finding Loki's. 

"Because I'm worried I don't deserve you."

"That isn't up to you to decide, is it?" you inquired, raising a brow. Loki's mouth tilted up in a smile as if trying his best to suppress it but failing miserably. 

"I should probably ask then."

"Most likely, before the fireworks start and I am unable to hear you stumble through your speech," you jested, sliding back into your old routine so easily. Loki sat up, offering you a hand, which you took gratefully as you smoothed out, your dress. 

"Such a sharp tongue on you; will that ever change?" Loki questioned. 

"Most likely not."

"Good," Loki grinned. "I wouldn't want anything else."

"You're stalling."

"I might be a wordsmith, but being vulnerable is not something I particularly enjoy," Loki responded. "But with you, I am forced to be vulnerable, and it rather terrifies me. Except, I keep coming back despite that fear because a day without you is a day without the sun." Loki let out a breath, brows furrowed. He looked so serious, and you thought you had never seen him so handsome. "Y/N…marry me."

"Yes," you responded, grinning. "Now, I think I am owed something."

"Yes, yes you are."

Loki wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours, gentle yet strong in a way that had you yearning for more. The fireworks erupted in the background, the party cheering for the colorful display of lights and excitement. You yourself felt like a firework, quickly bursting into a million specks coating the sky. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

taglist: @eleniblue @iwrite-things @youneedanap @huntress-artemiss @linaax @pisces-celeste @marygoddessofmischief @gruftiela @saay-karani @foxherder @lover-of-books-and-tea @lilaclaufeyson @gardasngan @evasmlp @swampespresso

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

It's just guys night talk! Don't worry about it!

(Read Tiger Tiger and shake this man awake so he can finish that thought!)

[d4rkshad0w]

could we please talk about that sleepover the Foxes had after Baltimore because i think it was so sweet.

like in tfc they two groups hated each other and couldn’t stand each other and then in tkm they all ended up sleeping in the same room after what happened to Neil (since he was also the one who united the two groups ig).

“Matt and Aaron shoved the couch out of the way” as much as Aaron says he hates Neil, even he saw the importance of being together that night and even helped and hopefully didn’t argue about them all being together which that i also find really sweet.

they all have their issues but they’re united when it matters, i also think this was a turning point where they didn’t care about their feud they just wanted Neil back after almost losing him.

[kacievvbbbb]

Sabo really got that serial killer rizz about him

Like look at those eyes. Those are the eyes of a man that has several things wrong with him and he's about to make each and every one of them and this rusty pipe, your problem.

Fucking two steps away from "you wanna know how i got these scars", ass look.

He goes from so adorable, bending so koala can put on his hat, to I have not a single polite gene in my body and I will destroy you mentally before I destroy you physically to Just straight beating people's asses with a pipe like a thug

I'm obsessed with him.

[mxltifxnd0m]

i need fictional men so bad i fear im unwell

[goblinhound]

Girl help I am so far gone

[eli-am-confused]

Something, something, disaster gay president that falls in love with every man he meets.

Bonus: Howie having a drink with some cousins to vent. It’s only somewhat helpful.

Howie: I’m gonna die alone!

Paul: Howie, of course you’re not.

Bailey: No he totally is! Bartender two more rounds of shots!

If you can’t read the pictures it’s under the cut.

First picture:

Vice President Bob Morris is saying something very important.

President Howard Goodman stopped listening as soon as Morris’ blazer came off (he totally wears one but takes it off during long meetings)

Second picture:

General John MacNamara: I need you to listen very carefully mister president

Unfortunately President Howard Goodman is not paying attention anymore

Third picture:

Xander Lee is explaining some sciencey shit with the portal

Poor President Howard Goodman doesn’t understand a single word he’s saying

Fourth picture:

Wilbur Cross, knowing exactly what he’s doing: Hey Howie~

Fifth picture:

President Howard Goodman, the gayest disaster to ever be elected as America’s president: Oh no, he’s hot!

[nighttimenothings]

i would kneel on the ground to tie the laces of your boots especially made for kicking ass. i would unlace your fanciest pair of heels at the end of the night and would carry you to bed; i'd massage the balls of your feet, the stiffness in your calves and press a kiss to your knee.

i would tie up your hair when you've got soap suds or flour up to your elbows, leaving the softest of kisses behind your ear. i would plait your hair, combing my fingers through your hair while we watch a film. soft yellow lamplight and fairy lights flickering we're in a world of our own.

i would peel all the oranges, bananas, pomegranates for you. you name it and it's done, baby. even if i haven't long nails to do so, i'll get a knife; i'll find a way. in fact, give me a knife and a peeler so i may peel apples and cut them into bite sized pieces. fruit preparation. i would cut fruit for you if i loved you.

i would hold an umbrella over your head when it's pouring. especially if you're taller than me, honey. i'd stretch my arm so that you don't get caught in the rain. i would walk through a rainstorm to see you, you know. but maybe on occasion we could dance in that rain, hot summer air keeping our shirts stuck to our skin; yet there we'll stay, laughing and drinking in this beauty.

• THIS IS ABOUT LESBIANISM • CISHET MEN & MINORS DNI •

[dustysalmon]

Garp x Zeff?

[daisywords]

thinking about this post but also it's more than that. do you ever think about how stories starring men are allowed to be about humanity but stories starring women have to be about Womanhood

[undergoing-mitosis]

can we talk about the fact that the icons, the memes, the tumblr sexymen who broke history, reigen arataka and sans undertale, are both some of the most exceptionally written and executed characters i have ever had the pleasure of stumbling across? please can we talk about that?

[perseephoneee]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓥

In which, you, a lady of the ton, are forced to participate in courting season. Except that courting season comes with one particularly silver tongued Prince who is making it his mission to drive you absolutely insane.

↳ fic masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

a/n: i'm so sorry for the delay in this. i was in spain this past month, and then i was finishing out my classes before i graduate!!! i am graduating this next Saturday with my bachelors which is crazy. and then i'm off to Columbia journalism school for the summer. i'm basically just rory gilmore at this point. anywho...thank you for being patient with me. i love you all.

Vulnerability was not something you often expressed, and unfortunately, it opened a floodgate of emotions you weren't ready to approach. Every night that passed was plagued with the same sly grin or those mischievous green eyes. You felt yourself going crazy, waking up with a beating heart and shaky hands. You needed to get your act together and fast. Even your family was starting to notice your strange behavior.

It was already evening, and you had another dreaded dance to attend. Apparently, there were professional dancers this time. Anything to entertain the Queen, of course. You stared at yourself in the mirror, a sage green dress hanging from your figure, delicate beads embellishing the bodice. With gentle hands, you also put on a golden locket, one of the last things you had of your mother. Sometimes, you wished it was societally appropriate for women to wear breeches. They were much more comfortable anyway and made for a better escape.

Ivy was already waiting in the carriage when you arrived. Grandmother liked to always take her own carriage, something you appreciated more often than not. It allowed you to be left alone with your own thoughts. You sighed deeply when your back hit the cushion, and the horses carried you off. Ivy shot you a look. 

"I thought you would be more excited to be seeing your lover," she cooed, slapping your knee playfully. 

"I find these events exhausting," You sighed, brushing your hair out of your face. "And he's not my lover."

"That's not what I've heard," Ivy said. "The grapevine whispers of an imminent engagement. I heard Grandmother discussing it with a representative from the Odinson home."

That was news. News that caused a pit in your stomach rather than butterflies. Marrying Thor was the goal, was it not? He was kind and respectful and would make a suitable husband. Still, you couldn't help but feel resent the idea. Ivy noticed the look on your face. 

"You don't want to marry him."

"I didn't say that," you tutted, folding your arms defensively. 

"It's evident by the sour look you wear," she frowned, but not from disappointment. More so, concern. “Y/N.”

"I will do my duty; is that clear?" You hissed. Any other person would've recoiled from your sharp tone, but Ivy had known you too long. She placed a hand over yours, every part soft and nurturing. 

"It is alright to say no," Ivy said softly. For the first time in a long while, she felt every bit your older sister and not the ditz your Grandmother loved to portray her as. "You have permission to say no."

You didn't get the chance to respond as the carriage pulled to a stop. Her words soothed your heart in a way you didn't expect. Permission to do something for yourself wasn't anything you'd heard before. It was always the expectation that you would protect your family and secure your future. No one had ever told you that you were allowed to choose otherwise. 

Entering the ballroom, cream gauze adorned the walls, accompanied by flickering candlelight. The mood was intimate, and everyone seemed to twinkle like the fountain in the middle. A performance was occurring with scantily clad dancers, but you weren't fazed. You're sure the ton would have something to say about it, though. Unlike them, you found being able to see their bodies to make the movements captivating, and you envied how they moved with such freedom. You were so enraptured by the dance that when you eventually noticed the Odinson brothers across the room, you froze up. Ivy hadn't left your side yet, and you grabbed her hand, hoping she'd stay by you. She gave you a worried look, but you ignored her. You were insanely nervous. If a proposal was imminent, then your anxiety was going to get the best of you. This is what you want; you kept chanting to yourself, hoping to believe it.

You saw Thor try to make his way over to you, and you quickly ducked behind a couple, dragging Ivy along with you. You kept finding ways to have someone blocking the path to you and the blond prince. At some point, you fetched a drink and had it in one go, smiling kindly at the waiter, who looked at you bewildered. You let Ivy's hand go when you reached for the drink, and she maneuvered off despite your protests. Hiding in the back, you allowed yourself to grab a second drink right as the dance ended. Unfortunately, that meant the path to you was straightforward, and Thor quickly approached. 

"M'Lady, it has been an adventure to reach you all night," he smiled. You quickly put the glass back on the tray and looked him in the eye. 

"Apologies, your grace, the…dance was quite enrapturing," you choked out, feigning a smile. 

"Dancing can be quite entertaining; I always fancy myself a dance with a beautiful woman when I can," Thor looked out to the crowd with his hands clasped, returning your gaze fondly. You heard the orchestra ready a waltz as Ivy walked close to you. You cut off Thor right as he was about to ask you to dance. 

"My sister is an excellent dancer; you should give her a twirl," you grabbed Ivy as she walked by, forcing her in Thor's direction and quickly maneuvering away. You couldn't deal with suitors at this point. That meant potential marriage proposals, and frankly, you were terrified at the prospect of getting proposed to right now. 

Your quick escape led to an unfortunate collision with the only other prince you were hoping to avoid– Loki. He stabilized you before quickly pulling his hand away as if you were a fire too hot to touch. His green eyes look at you inquisitive before his lips pull up into a smirk. 

"Running away from the ball? Scandolous." He cooed. Your brows draw down at his smirk, rolling your eyes. He gives a glance at the waltz. "Care to join me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Typically, when a gentleman asks you to dance, one answers' yes' or 'no,'" Loki chides. "So, care to join me?"

You paused, taking him in before giving him a slight nod. He extends his hand and leads you out onto the floor. You can feel Ivy's gaze on you, but you ignore her as you both bow to each other. The music starts, the cello reverberating through the room as you take the first step into the movements. Loki never takes his eyes off you, something that would unnerve you if you didn't live in a fantasy world. His eyes were a forest in which you could perpetually wander. His hands reached for yours, twirling you around before capturing you close. You felt your breath hitch at your proximity and, luckily, could move away before you showed how his presence affected you. When the dance ended, you bowed before leaving, looking for any exit outside. 

You sighed in relief as the cold air touched your skin, caressing your cheeks. You heard the door close behind you and couldn't tell who you hoped it would be more. 

"Lady Chilton," Thor's voice spoke, disturbing the quiet of the night. You turned around, taking in his gentle expression. 

"Your grace," you breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "You startled me."

"Thor, you can call me Thor," he chuckled, hands clasped behind his back. "I was hoping to talk to you." Your heartbeat picked up, but you nodded, brows furrowed. 

"You can always talk to me."

Thor pauses. 

"I had planned to ask for your hand in marriage."

Your brain processed his words. It took you a second for them to register. "You had planned?"

"It has nothing to do with your character," Thor reassured. "I find you quite intelligent."

"But you no longer plan to propose?"

"You don't want me to propose; I can see it clear as day," Thor, for his part, doesn't look upset. "I am not the one you want…I respect that."

"The one I want?"

"I admire you deeply, which is why all I wish for you is a love match," Thor smiled. "I never would've been able to keep up with your wit anyway."

"I'm…sorry for disappointing you," you say, feeling immense guilt. 

"You could never disappoint me, Miss Y/N," Thor smiles. You soften, taking in the tall prince. Thor was kind and gentle but masculine. You should be head over heels for him for all intents and purposes. But you just couldn't find yourself to feel that way. 

"I hope we can continue being friends," you say sadly. 

"I expect you will be more like family," he nods. "I wish you the best, Lady Chilton."

"Thor, I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"You will; my brother is not a patient man."

And with that, he left you alone in the courtyard. The door closed with a click, and an owl hooted overhead. The sky was a navy blue, the clouds obscuring the moon hanging over your head. As the breeze picked up and the leaves rustled, you pondered over Thor's parting words. 

My brother is not a patient man.

taglist: @gruftiela @eleniblue @iwrite-things @youneedanap @huntress-artemiss @linaax @pisces-celeste @marygoddessofmischief @saay-karani @choki.laufeyson @foxherder @lover-of-books-and-tea

[lieutgore]

i talk a lot abt jopson's perverse pleasure during the flogging scene but thats enough of that lets talk about james' emotional state instead . more in tags 👇

[3416]

also kyper going so hardcore about 1634 today saved me..... "34 wants 16. he doesnt want 88, he doesn't want anybody else. he wants him." he said it with SO much conviction, it's killing me. like that's how me and the oomfs speak bro, welcome to the club. also the use of their numbers to make it less personal like these guys dont wear their numbers like a LIFELINEEEE......

[kacievvbbbb]

If I might inflict some mental damage.

not to be insane but;

shanks dies, Mihawk joins the red hair pirates.

let me just-

but actually think about it. Shanks killed by Blackbeard before anyone gets to laughtale Mihawk distraught half out of his mind.

can't imagine not being surrounded by Shanks and his everything. Breaks unto the redforce collapses in the captain's quarters haunted by all the times Shanks wanted him to stay. how he went from asking him to join his crew, to asking him to stay just for a few more minutes, to asking nothing of him at all but Mihawk could still see the wistful smile every time he left at the break of dawn.

Mihawk haunted by the fact that if Shanks asked him now, now that it was too late, to just stay; he would. and now here he is on the red force, in Shanks' room stuck in a moment in time like the man himself will step in any minute with a quip that will delight him but he will have to pretend annoys, like they will just fall back into their routine like they always do when they haven't seen each other in months.

But Shanks will never walk through those doors again. and the red force has a new captain and Mihawk will never get the chance to tell Shanks yes. And now he has to kill Blackbeard and hope that Roronoa will come for his head soon.

and he never officially joins but he never leaves either.

Mihawk has never loved anyone enough to lose them he has absolutely no frame work for this he's devastated. a walking ship wreck

[remembertheplunge]

Ugly Betty says NO to Prop 8 (2008)

October 31, 2008

Jim bought a life size Obama (card board cut out)—it stands by our front door.

Neighbors in the last duplex across the street put up two “No on 8” signs and an Obama sign yesterday. 

The “Yes on 8” duplex across the street pointed their sign toward our house. Actually, they have two.   And they put up a McPalin sign after we put up the life sized Obama.

Ugly Betty, her Dad and sister did a “No on 8” ad last night during Ugly Betty, aimed at Latinos. 

It ran later, too.

Diane Feinstein also has a powerful ad “it will change the constitution. It (Prop. 8) equals discrimination.”

The Yes on 8s stole Troy’s  porch light.  They put in their porch light. 

End of entry

Notes: 1/4/2025

You can see that Project 25 was already brewing with the advent of Proposition 8 and its ban on gay marriage which passed in 2008. 2008 is not that long ago. Even though Proposition 8 was later overturned and the right for gays to marry has been made a part of the California Constitution as of November 5, 2024 passage of Proposition 3, there are lots of people out there like our across the street "Yes on 8" neighbor mentioned in the above 2008 entry. They want to force us back into the dark pre Stone Wall days. In other words , they want us silenced, back in the closet and locked in forever. We have to "point our signs" back at them and say, no, we are out, proud and we are not going back. Once you see, you cannot unsee!