#you can't find that in the post cause it's not there even if you have no reading comprehension skills and think it is there

[fromthemouthofkings]

"we have to treat men nicer so they stop seeing us as less than human" I can see how it could come across that way, but I don't think that's it, actually. I think it's about giving people safe paths out of the alt-right, about understanding and undermining the mechanisms that the alt-right uses to recruit, and about focusing our criticism on behavior—something that people choose and can change—rather than sex & identity, an immutable trait that people can't. I'd agree that I don't think feminists' attitudes about men is the only, or even necessarily the most important factor in men joining the alt-right, but it is one of ones that's most directly within our control, and we can only use the tools we have. I don't think "being nice" alone is going to be enough to deradicalize every man who's fallen into an alt-right pipeline, let alone their leaders, who are benefiting from structural sexism the most—but I also don't think we benefit from making our spaces hostile to the men who are our allies, like op of the post being referenced, who noted that he is a feminist despite the way the movement is currently giving a lot of voice to radfems who vocally purport to hate him based solely on his gender. Yes, it would be great if more people would just make that choice—I think more men should, because it's the right thing to do—but people are social creatures and quite fairly most are not going to stick around to organize with you if you treat them like shit, no matter how just your cause is. This isn't just about not wanting to be seen as weak or emasculated—it's about monkey brain feelings of safety and belonging.

The thing is, the alt-right is very good at either finding or fabricating, and then leveraging, the narrative that men are under attack by feminism, that feminists hate men, that men can only find safety and belonging in their hateful movements. True or not, that kind of cult-like conditioning, that kind of us-vs-them framing, is a very powerful weapon against the human brain, against empathy and compassion, and against solidarity. We can't stop them from telling that story—but we can make damn sure that when people do break out of it, they find out it's not true. Should we have to? Maybe not. But do you care more about what's fair or what's effective?

"as a guy who escaped the alt-right pipeline, [*blames it on Misandry*]"

[ipleadbritney]

could we please have ↻ FLIP FLOP for the first kiss scene in three-sixteenths???

thank you dear!!! 💕

- kitty 💕 (aka three-sixteenths’ biggest fan)

for @utopiastri who's really the sweetest!! ask game post here thank you for letting me revisit three-sixteenths in oscar's pov!!

3/16 the first kiss, flip flop

“Uncomfortable?” Lando repeats. 

“With my magic. I don't want to make you throw up, or, you know.”

Oscar himself is one wrong move away from throwing up, actually. Yesterday threw him in for a spinner. Every time he blinks, he conjures up the walls of Monaco around him, waiting and waiting. 

He hoped to get some rest today, to let his magic stretch over the new place. Nico Rosberg mentioned in an interview once how telekinesis in Monaco is different. Everything's lighter. Oscar wouldn't mind trying it. 

But Lando called, and, well. Oscar was already skimming teleportation crash guides in the middle of their call.

Lando and curses is a horrible combination. It's taking everything in Oscar not to panic.

Lando clears his throat. “I asked you to come here so you could probe at it. And I'm not throwing up. Magic reflects the person, right? I answered your call for a reason, and I'm glad I did.”

How can Oscar not panic when Lando just says the sweetest things like it's nothing?

But someone has to be calm between the two of them, and Oscar's not going to pass the responsibility on the person who's cursed.

He rubs at the empty space where his suppressor usually is. Calm down. “I'm glad you answered my call, Lando. I really am.” 

Better him than anyone else. If Oscar's right, then—

True Love's Kiss is a powerful spell that has wavered in popularity in recent decades. Most historians agree it is common for any spell to have crests and troughs. This particular case, however, has stumped some of the wisest living magical minds. 

Has humanity polluted our world to the point of a Great Spell extinction? Do we even need True Love's Kiss anymore?

Oscar forces a smile, ignoring his thoughts. Not much a textbook can help them with, right?

Lando smiles back. Oscar loosens up. 

Maybe it's not True Love's Kiss. 

What if it is?

It doesn't have to be. Oscar can just kiss Lando right now. Fix the curse after. Free Lando's wrist. Explain somehow along the way that he like Lando enough to think he'd break True Love's Kiss if it came down to it.

It won't. 

Lando's phone vibrates and lights up with a text notification. Oscar barely makes out the name Charlie. 

“Aren't you going to read that?” Oscar asks.

Lando shakes his head, still smiling. Dazed. “No, it's probably a stupid notif—” he checks his phone “—fucking finally, Charlie's awake.”

He's mouthing the words as he reads them, something that hasn't escaped Oscar. Cute, of course, but also. The text can't be that long. 

Lando sits up straighter. He's re-reading the text. Again and again.

Worry's bubbling up inside Oscar. Unfortunately, his worries have a nasty way of materializing through his magic.

So does Lando's. There's buzzing in the air, like static TV.

He tightens the control on his magic. He won't be of any help to Lando if he's a mess on his own.

After what must've been the 20th re-read, Oscar asks, “What did Charles say?”

“I need to kiss someone Italian. To break the curse, I need to kiss someone Italian.”

Lando all but throws his phone to Oscar for him to check. Charles’ texts confirm Oscar's suspicions, or at least part of it. Being right is such an overrated emotion. 

Can TLKs be bound by other conditions apart from the whole yeah you're my one true love? Kiss-curses that aren't TLK are even rarer. Leave it up to the Monaco Grand Prix to attract generational magic users who can randomly cast a kiss-curse.

What if Charles misheard it? Misunderstood. Mistranslated. 

What if he didn't?

“I hoped it would be different,” Oscar starts. “Not that you'll have a hard time finding someone Italian to kiss, no, but uh, Sophie will have our heads. Because it'll cause a riot, maybe. Then they'll resurrect us so Sophie can have our heads again.”

Please let the floor swallow Oscar whole.

“Thanks, I guess?” Lando says, and his face is so open, you can see every single emotion he's feeling right now. 

Oscar wonders if Lando can read him the same way. Like how he's no longer surprised when Oscar sticks close to him in public, anticipates it. Leaves a little bit of space for Oscar to slide through. It's the type of understanding and clarity Oscar's always wanted.

“You know, I'm 3/16 Italian,” Oscar blurts out. 

Lando half-splutters, half-laughs. “You don't have to cheer me up, Osc."

“I didn't say it to just cheer you up. I'm here to help. That's why I'm here, yeah?”

For the first time since coming here— which is the first time he's ever been in Lando's apartment and everything is Lando Lando Lando —Oscar's mind is clear. 

“Reckon it'll work?” 

“Won't know if we won't try."

Oscar can still backtrack. He can salvage the threads of their professional relationship. Nevermind that their professionalism has turned into Lando practically sitting on his lap during meetings because his seat doesn't “seat right”. 

But Lando's beaming. “Sure. Let's do it.”

Huh. It can't be that easy. It can only be that easy if Lando likes Oscar back. He doesn't. Probably. “Oh, okay.”

Nothing happens. Is it up to Oscar? Well, Lando's handcuffed to his bed, so. Oscar needs to, good God. Oscar needs to.

“Do you think it's supposed to be, like…” Oscar took three magic-related electives and none of them talked about breaking possible kiss-curses.

“Kiss on the mouth?” Lando’s smile grows even wider. Does he? Like Oscar back? “You're the magic nerd here.”

“I'm really not.”

“Go big or go home,” Lando says.

Suddenly Lando hooks a finger on Oscar's collar and pulls him closer. Oscar kneels in front of Lando, one of his legs bracketed by Lando's thighs. Lando's pretty like this, looking up at Oscar. 

Oscar touches Lando's cheek. “This okay?” he murmurs.

Lando closes his eyes and leans into his touch. Nods.

Oscar presses a soft kiss on Lando's mouth. The buzzing's gone, has been for a long time, maybe. 

He pulls back just the slightest, but Lando's kissing him. Oscar is reeled right back in, deeper this time. Lando holds him by his waist. Gentle but secure.

Oscar's dreamt of this before, but those didn't. Get the details correct. Lando's sighs. His taste. His magic.

Fuck, Oscar's own magic. He can feel it slipping out of his control.

Lando parts open his mouth, a permission for Oscar to take. How much can Oscar take? How much is he willing to take?

There's a clicking sound and a wash of strange magic, bursting then fading away.

The handcuffs. Oscar almost forgot about that. 

They move apart, which is a bit hard with Lando's fingers curled up in his shirt.

The curse leaves behind a cloud of gold and green glitter. A few specks land on Lando's nose then melt off. 

“I'll call you first if I ever get cursed again,” Lando says, laughing. There's a halo surrounding his head. Oscar's magic. 

“I'm 1/16 Chinese.” He returns to his spot at the foot of the bed. “Call me even if you're not cursed?” 

“Don't jinx it, mate.”

Oscar's not going to jinx it. No hexes or curses or any love spells, either. He doesn't trust his magic to not influence Lando. He puts his suppressor on, and it sucks the fucking air out of the room. 

“Sorry,” he tells Lando. “It's, I've got my suppressor back on.”

“Yeah, why?”

“Broke the curse already, didn't we?”

Lando tilts his head, assessing. “We did.”

What do they do now? 

Lando takes the lead, as he usually does. “Want lunch? I'll reserve us a spot, so don't leave. Give me, like, 15.”

As if Oscar would ever say no to lunch with Lando. “I'd like that, sure. Let's get lunch.”

If it hadn't been a kiss-curse, they would've probably kissed some more. Oscar tries not to be too hung up about it.

[galaxy-fleur]

hii! so, i saw your post about leon smut headcanons and i kinda loved it! can you make one for chris too? thank you <3

I love a good opportunity to think about Chris... Wrote this with post re6 and onwards Chris in mind!

In my head, Chris' libido has always been a bit on the lower side, though I do think it gets significantly better once he works through his issues that were plaguing him during re6. He's obviously in a way better place mentally, and his sex life is a perfect reflection of that. He likes to have sex with his partner maybe once or twice a week, but it's usually a lengthy and intense fucking session. You could even crack a joke that he's just charging up his inner battery before going at it with you, though he won't be very amused (he totally will).

Every choice Chris takes, no matter how tiny, is weighed down by a great deal of obligations and expectations. He doesn't regret choosing this life for himself. It goes without saying, though, that carrying this great load of responsibility all the time is exhausting.

Sex is, in a sense, both his comfort and outlet. Nothing compares to returning home from a long, demanding day and losing himself in your shared touch and pleasure until his brain is blissfully empty. Maybe that's why he likes to do it methodically and slowly. He gives you everything he has, just like he does in his career. He is devoted and enthusiastic. Not to sound too sappy, but having sex with him always reminds you why you fell for this man in the first place.

In terms of his tastes, I believe he would be quite skilled at using his hands to satisfy his partner. And I mean every part of his hands. Biceps, palms, fingers - everything. There's just something about using these hands of his that are usually meant for holding weapons and inflicting damage for something else that makes you both feel good. It just... flips a certain switch in his brain.

Needless to say, he touches you constantly. Be it gentle caresses over the contours of your figure or fervent groping at any flesh his greedy fingers can reach. He needs to have his hands on you and feel the warmth of your body under his palms. Getting you off with one hand while keeping your back flush against his chest with the other, his mouth swallowing up all of your beautiful sounds, is probably one of his favorite things to do. There's nothing more satisfying to him than feeling you being totally ensnared by him.

If you're into that, and you are okay with it, I do see him finding a certain thrill in putting you in a headlock, too. It'd be painfully obvious that he's holding back on you, though. Almost funnily so, because at first, he'll barely put any pressure at all. He simply does not wish to cause you any harm, bless his heart. It's sweet of him to care. He won't complain, though, if you're all for being smothered by those biceps of his.

I do not see Chris as a rough sex-partner per se, but his size and strength sort of give off that impression once he gets real into it. However, before engaging in any actual fucking, he always makes sure you're nice and lubricated, whether it's by natural means, or with the help of some lubricant. He knows that he's big. He's honestly more embarrassed than proud of it. So be sure to give him lots of compliments! Having said that, I do believe he has a slight praise kink. On the receiving end. Even though Chris normally takes the lead, a few tender kisses and sincere compliments from you will quickly make his knees buckle and his breath hitch. So... that's something you can take advantage of whenever you feel like it.

I would say that his favorite positions are face-off and doggie, as well as good old missionary. After a difficult week or two, doggy is a terrific way to relieve stress and release all of his pent-up energy. But as you go at it, it usually becomes a pinned doggy. He just can't help but want to be close to you. Conversely, face-off is for more intimate, slower, and emotionally charged sex. Primarily when he needs some consolation. It's a bit unconventional, but I see a lot of meaningful conversations occurring during or after that type of sex with him.

He's louder than you might imagine when it comes to how vocal he is. He rarely full-on moans, but what he does a lot is groan. And he groans pretty loudly. It's a very hot thing to have him pant, huff, and rumble into your ear because his voice just naturally becomes deeper and raspier when lust clouds his head. He usually cums with a broken gasp, throwing his head back. An absolutely stunning sight to behold, and a terrific incentive for you to spoil him by sucking him off, but I'm getting off topic. He's also the type to talk during sex, oddly enough. Not even dirty talk, but actual conversation.

It's a weird quirk, and it sure can get annoying when he's actively thrusting in and out of you, and then starts talking to you about what happened at work earlier. With that, he's a bit of a weirdball. Still, off-topic discussions aside, he's big on communicating, so it's not all bad. He can and does say fitting things too! He's very prone to talking you through it, so speak.

You can expect him to say something like: 'I've been thinking about this all day... Coming home to you, having you like this.' 'Are you close? Yeah, I know, I got you. Just look at me, will you? Just like that. Perfect.'

Chris pays close attention to aftercare as well. Usually asks you a few questions to see if you're sore or uncomfortable anywhere, and takes care of you if needed. Before cleaning himself, he always makes sure to clean you off first. Huge on cuddles after sex. He loves it more than anything else. Simply to keep you close to his chest once your sexy time is over. The fact that he's like a big, cozy teddy bear for you to snuggle with is definitely a pleasant bonus. Always prepares your breakfast the next day, even when he has to leave. You need to get your strength back! Or so he claims. He really just does it as a thank-you.

[nyapollo]

here's a hot take: as a buddie fan, I don't hate tommy kinard and the intense hatred towards him honestly kinda annoys me

was i rooting for tommy x buck to be endgame? absolutely not. but i didnt hate the guy

i understand the tommy hatred in the lens of his past racism because. that was for sure... odd! and although i can say, "well, hen & chim clearly forgave him for allat and if he hadn't changed then there would have been more backlash to eddie & buck casually hanging out with him," i feel like that's not the major reason most buddie fans hate him.

this is, again, repeating the cycle of having a favorite MLM ship being "broken up" by a love interest of one of the guys, causing massive fandom hatred. but, of course, they can't hate someone for no reason, so they nitpick every line that the character has said and try to find something slightly off that is at least *a* reason to hate them.

at the end of the day, i could really care less if somebody hates tommy. i mean, yeah, im writing a whole tumblr post about it right now, but this isn't going to effect my life in a major way. the biggest thing that actually bothers me is that a lot of tommy haters are just straight up calling lou ferrigno jr ugly (but in very mean ways).

i haven't seen it on tumblr as much as i have tiktok, but my personal favorite (its not) is them calling him a dinosaur. this is where it crosses the line for me. is it likely that lou ferrigno jr will see these tiktoks and be sad? No. but this contributes to a problem that i see so incredibly often, which is: people don't understand how to seperate the actor from the character, and see actors as nothing more than people on their screen rather than real human beings.

actors are real human beings. even though they probably won't see your post about how you think they're ugly as shit, other people will. maybe other people who have the features that you are calling ugly as shit. i also just think its incredibly inhumane to start nitpicking every single little thing about one person because you don't like the character they play on tv.

hate tommy kinard *as a character* all you want, it doesn't hurt anyone. what DOES hurt people is when you start critiquing people's looks and calling them ugly. i really didn't think i had to say this out loud, because i thought everyone had come to a consensus on this but.. i guess not!

tldr: as a buddie shipper, i never really liked tevan as a ship, but i hate the constant hate on tommy kinard because it goes back to the era of "hating every female love interest that gets in the way of your gay ship" and additionally, people not being able to seperate the character from the actor.

[gay-furry-poseidon-lover]

All of this is very fair, and good to read about. Though I do think Op has a point about the black and white of how people treat Epic's Odysseus verses anyone who gets in his way, and how hypocritical the treatment of Calypso specifically is if you look at how like. Any man in greek myths is treated. I believe Odysseus took women as slaves on his ship in The Illiad. Sometimes its someone else but he is one of the people who said they must kill the son of Hector, he dropped this baby off of a wall. Sure you can argue "it was willed by Zues," but I dont think that makes it any better morally. When he gets home he commands that an unfaithful servant be strung up and tortured untill death, as well as killing every female servant who was unfaithful to him. We dont neccesarily know to what degree, or even if engagement with the suitors was consensual. But all of this is to say that there really is no true good or evil character. I say all of these things as someone who really enjoys the Odyssey and Odysseus. We can recognize that acting in the ways he did would not be okay or acceptable in our society today, but we still tell his story and praise him for his loyalty and endurance.

Epic is a work of fiction inspired by The Odyssey. It is not meant to follow it exactly, nor portray an accurate example of how the story plays out in the book, and we must keep this in mind. In greek myth there are many versions of each story, many differing translations and interpretations, and long before they were written down they were passed on through oral tradition. I approach this with the mind that with each new retelling we learn about the time it was written, and what biases a translator or story teller may have let leak into it. Not that they are neccesarily false, just different, and products of different people.

A persons first introduction to Calypso will certainly influence their opinions on her as she is present in many different pieces of media. And what i think is most important is that we remember she is fictional. She's a goddess, a nymph, someone that exists only in the stories we tell. And the same with Odysseus. Its very likely writers took inspirations from real heroes and their experiences, but the Odysseus we know today is not a real person. Neither him nor Calypso are personally affected by the things we say about them. You can't conflate theorizing about the different possibilities of how an ancient story went with say, denying the story of a modern victim of rape. These are very different things in very different contexts. I thought fans of greek myth would be on the same page about this, what with the plentiful rape, incest, murder, slavery, and beastiality described in myths. But apparantly it needs to be said that enjoying stories that contain violence and crimes like these does not mean you condone or support these actions taking place in our modern society.

People are free to talk about Zues and enjoy his character without constantly giving disclaimers that we can never forgive him and he has done bad things. Because we know that, its established, its clear. People dont accuse you of being a rape sympathizer or being into fucking cows just because you mention Zues. Hes low hanging fruit though. Hera, Aphrodite, Artemis and Apollo, theyve all done horrific shit. But we dont immediately critisize anyone who talks of them fondly. Achilles did it with a corpse cause he thought she was just that beautiful. Obviously thats gross and bad. Liking his stories doesnt automatically mean you agree with that.

I'm not on tiktok (thank god) but ive seen a couple videos and posts that are very black and white. Calypso is an evil abusor and if you like her than you support abuse and rape. It's annoying as hell. I've been abused, ive been in coercive sexual relationships, I know first hand that thats bad. Duh. And if you find comfort in relating to Odysseus because of your own experiences, and that leads you to hate Calypso, thats okay. If people talking about Calypso is upsetting or triggering to you, don't engage with it by all means. Take care of yourself. Block, hit not interested, scroll away.

But what you should not do is tell random people on the internet that they are as bad as rapist abusors because they were talking about the one sided love of a nymph goddess and a mortal man in a musical inspired by anime and video games.

People are able to sepparate fiction from reality with so many other characters, why is it that Calypso is such a controversial one. Her character, and her backstory, have so much to explore and think about, and we can do that without believing that she is without any flaws or faults.

Think of her what you want, say about her what you want. Just stop projecting whatever beliefs you have about what it means to enjoy a fictional character onto everyone who disagrees with you. If you are do passionate about justice for victims, go outside, engage with local communities, see a friend, see a therapist. Speak out about the real, alive abusors and rapists who hold positions of power in our world right now. That will bring much more good to the world than starting discourse on tiktok, I promise you. (not directed at op or reblogger, but for people in general.)

Something I'm starting to notice about this fandom; y'all can like Epic's version of Odysseus without trying to paint Calypso as a rapist.

Odysseus in the original tale did cheat on his wife. Several times. And there's nothing wrong with acknowledging that. But trying to paint him as blameless and all the other women as rapists for seducing him is not the winning move y'all think it is.

Like Tiktok is becoming the worst when it comes to the topic of Calypso.

[midnight-fox-boy]

I know this is a very high emotion topic right now but I think I need to say this.

To my USA pals; If you see any posts from a trans person talking about potentially detransitioning/going back in the closet and they list strong reasons as to why they're considering it (living in specific areas for example), please do not react with "No! Don't! Don't let them win that's what they want!!".

Like don't get me wrong, I'm not saying we should encourage people to go back in the closet or to "give in". But I DO think that this mindset places an unfair responsibility onto that person. It comes off as seeing it as a betrayal, as "giving up and conforming", as a "loss".

It comes off as thinking someone needs to put their life on the line to loudly fight for what is right. That they must exist as they are publicly regardless of the dangers.

If someone GENUINELY feels that they will be safer going back into the closet until this is all over, that's valid. We shouldn't support them in whatever choices they make and remind them that they are still welcome within his community.

Buuuuttt, I think it's also okay to speak logically, especially if the person is asking for input or something. Helping the person find any potential helpful resources (or how to find those resources) to live as safely and healthily as possible.

I think it's okay to suggest waiting and seeing how things go before hastily making an emotionally charged decision that they may regret. I think it's okay to remind them that there's options in-between fully detransitioning/going into the closet, and being OUT loud and proud. For example maybe that's boy/girlmoding at work/school or going partially back into the closet, but not fully.

By basically telling people they have to be okay with being in danger no matter how scared they are or else they've basically done something wrong or bad, you're just going to contribute to more guilt, fear, and feelings of being alone.

And remember that many trans people are parents. Sometimes a parent may choose decisions they really don't want to do in order to keep their children safe.

I know this is not intended..I know you're not trying to guilt them or imply that they're contributing to the "enemy winning", but it can very much cause those kinds of feelings. They have not failed us. They have not failed themselves.

We will fight as a community, and we will fight for those who have to do whatever they can to survive and be safe, even if they can't be on the front lines. Our collective strength is enough to carry them.

[profound-bouquetbird]

Hi yes,i completely understand as to why someone might feel uncomfortable writing a fic abt jimmy in a romantic aspect,which is exactly why i asked for angst. ( I'm a sucker for angst )

I was asking for a scenario where the reader and jimmy had already been in an established relationship with Jimmy wayy prior than boarding on the tulpar, i was wondering that the reader has positive views on jimmy but after finding out what he did to anya the reader completely breaks down and loses every ounce of love/compassion/respect for jimmy. And how curly/swansea and daisuke would try to comfort the reader.

Jimmy tries to convince the reader to give him another chance but the reader rips him a new one,like just jimmy being pathetic and miserable like he deserves to be.

I've been sent requests and messages that everyone can't wait for this fic, now I'm scared I'm going to disappoint 😔

BUT WHO CARES, I'M STILL WRITING IT, RAAAHHHH 🦅💥💥🦅🦅🦅💥💥💥

Edit: I'm done with writing it and right as I was about to post it, I realized that I forgot to put the actual comfort in the fict... Yeahh....

Warnings: mentions/hinting of sexual assault, Daisuke and the reader having a parent/son relationship, mentions of paper cuts, mentions of guns, drug overdose, murder, blood, hurt/no comfort, not proofread

I looked at Jimmy in absolute horror. No tears, no sobbing, nothing left my lips. There was only one feeling remaining though...

Disgust.

He called out my name, and I couldn't stop the shiver of fear that rushed through me.

"Please... Let me explain."

Three days before boarding ᯓ★

"One year?!" I gasped out in disbelief, eyes widening in shock at the news my boyfriend just dropped. One year out in space? Why would he even accept that offer?!

"I know, I know... But we need the money." He breathed out, not looking so pleased with the outcome either.

I sighed, knowing that he was right. I relaxed back onto the couch, crossing my arms in disappointment.

One year without him here with me? No contact at all? I barely survived his last shipment, and that only lasted three months, and now I had to wait a year? they were asking too much. What do they even ship out?

"... I'm sorry." He breathed out, and his expression only made me feel worse.

"You don't have to apologize... It's your job." I sighed, a small smile on my face to reassure him. Sure, it would be a loonnngg year for me, but it was for the money, for our future... for us.

"I'll go start dinner for us... Okay?" He gave me a sad smile, walking over to me and resting a gentle hand on the back of my head, placing a light kiss to my temple as he made his way towards the kitchen.

I smirked, watching him walk off with a playful roll of my eyes.

"And by that I'm guessing you're ordering pizza?" I teased, causing him to let out a quick laugh before disappearing into the kitchen.

With him gone, I was now alone with my thoughts.

I mean- a whole year away from Earth? That's sure to leave some impact on both me and him.

... My saddened expression slowly started to fade as a thought crossed my mind.

What if I applied for the job with him?

A smile grew on my face, but I couldn't tell him now, it should be a surprise! Yes! Imagine his joy when he finds out I get to tag along with him, and for a whole year at that!

Oh, the overjoyed look on his face-

"You want plain peperoni again or do you want to switch it up for tonight?" I jumped a bit; my thoughts being interrupted as Jimmy yelled from the kitchen.

"Uh- Yeah! A peperoni will do!" I yelled back, smiling to myself. Maybe I should apply after dinner.

One week before boarding ᯓ★

I giggled to myself quietly as I watched Jimmy pack his bags. He always liked to pack early, says he has time to check everything and pack anything that's missing.

"Jimmy..." I dragged out his name, trying to contain my excited expression as I watched him.

"Yes, Y/n? I'm busy, I wouldn't want to miss anything." He mumbled out, rummaging through his things. My smile felt slightly, but I decided to shake that uneasy feeling away. He was just stressed.

"I've got some exciting news." I stated, my smile and excitement returning as he peaked at me over his shoulder and gave me a confused glance, "I applied as a Pony express nurse and... I got in!" I almost squeaked out in excitement, but... my excitement died down when he didn't return it.

He stayed in silence for a little while, still looking over his shoulder but not looking at me.

"... Why would you do that?" He asked me, his voice cold as he still didn't look at me. Did I... do something wrong?

"Well... I'm sure that us being apart would make both your journey and my stay would feel way longer than it was supposed to, so... I thought going with you would make both of our stays fly by faster." I stated sheepishly, now unsure of myself. I looked down at my hands, feeling an intense sense of guilt wash over me as the two of us stayed in silence.

I heard him sigh and his clothes ruffle, soft footsteps walking towards me and soon enough his arms were wrapped around me in a warm embrace.

"I'm sorry I reacted like that... I just didn't want you to get hurt." He mumbled into my hair, one of his hands resting on my lower back while the other ran through my hair.

Every ounce of dread faded away with those simple words, hugging him back with a smile on my face.

"... I should've told you earlier, I'm sorry too." I mumbled back. I felt his grip get a bit tighter, which made me feel comforted. He mumbled something underneath his breath that I couldn't comprehend, but I didn't question it.

Two months before the crash ᯓ★

Life on the ship was... Weird. I mean, I knew I was away from Earth, but it felt like we didn't even take off, which I guess is better than floating around.

Everyone on the ship was nice as well. Anya, my coworker was really sweet and really competitive when it came to boardgames, but she's been oddly quiet around my boyfriend, Jimmy... maybe because she found out he was my boyfriend she didn't want to seem like she was going to steal him away from me, which I find very sweet.

Daisuke was interesting. He was a bit nervous for the first few days, but I couldn't really do anything since he didn't really want to talk to anyone. He quickly opened up to us though, and it's always interesting to hear him talk, he does say some weird stuff sometimes though.

Swansea was the same as boarding day, acting very serious and only talking about work, but I sometimes get to hear a little about his past. He has a wife and two kids! How nice.

Curly was a nice captain, I don't see him nor talk to him often, but the times that I did he was nice.

And of course there was my boyfriend, Jimmy. He focuses on his work a lot, which is good don't get me wrong! But I sometimes want him to spend time with me or even visit me in the medical bay...

All of the relationships to the side, work wasn't really that hard. Everyone made sure to take care of themselves, Daisuke got hurt every once in a while, but even he knew not to waste supplies over something as little as a paper cut (I still sneak him my own band-aids every once in a while, though).

---

I smiled to myself as I read through the reports, Anya and I split the 'interrogation' part of the psych test, I was the one to deal with Daisuke since he was the only one to actually drag out the psych test with his little stories. Anya complained to me about it, so I offered to take the test instead of her.

I sat in the room with the young intern, finding myself actually interested in his stories. He somehow managed to find a story with every question that I asked... And when he didn't have an opportunity to rant about a story, he just extended his answer.

He was just done with his rant about how he managed to hit his pinkie toe when he was trying to pass a screwdriver to Swansea, hilarious really.

"Hm..." I hummed a bit, tapping my bottom lip with my pen as I inspected the questions. "... How would you say your relationships with the crewmembers are?" I read off the question, ticking it off the list for myself.

"Awh, absolutely great!" He began excitedly, and just as I thought he was going to leave it at that, he continued.

"Curly is an awesome captain! Sure, I don't see him often, but he's so cool! He always knows how to fix a problem.

Anya is sweet too, but I don't see her as often like I do you. While we're on the topic of you, you've also been pretty awesome, you didn't have to give me your band-aids though.

Swansea is rude, but he can be cool from time to time. I'm still proud that I managed to make him laugh the other day with one of my jokes. But he can tone it down on the yelling sometimes...

Jimmy is also pretty cool! Being a co-pilot must be really hard, and I appreciate that he's in the cockpit most of the time to make sure we don't crash. But he could come out every once in a while... Last time I saw him was a day or two ago when he visited Anya in the medbay though." My smile fell at that small comment, my writing stopping abruptly as I stared down at my notes for a moment.

Jimmy visited Anya. Why wouldn't he come to visit me? I mean- maybe he walked into the medbay to look for me and I wasn't there, even then why would he ask Anya where I was or at least wait for me to come back. So why did he leave the cockpit and not come to visit me first. I'm his damn partner!

Daisuke noticed my silence, his own happy expression turning awkward and on edge.

"Uh... Did I say something wrong?" He asked sheepishly, almost sinking into his seat while clutching the edges of his seat awkwardly.

"Oh... No, Daisuke. Don't worry, I just got lost in thought." I smiled warmly towards him. That small act made him relax. Jimmy is not important currently; I'll talk to him after the psych eval with Daisuke.

I looked back at the paper to see the rest of the questions, only to be surprised that we were done with the last one.

"Looks like we're done here." I sighed, setting down the papers on the small table. Daisuke let out an overexaggerated sigh of relief, slumping in his seat.

"Ugh, finally!" He chuckled, "I thought the questions were never gonna end!"

I chuckled at his antics, standing up from my seat and picking up the papers once more.

"I suggest you get back to work, don't want Swansea worrying now, do we?" I chuckled, opening the door and waiting for him to walk out.

"No! That's even worse! Please continue with the questions!" He whined, getting up and walking out despite his words, although with a bit of a slump.

I walked out right after him, closing the door right after walking out.

"Good luck." I sighed, watching him walk away to where Swansea supposedly was.

"You, too!" He yelled back, smiling brightly, waving goodbye while turning the corner.

I exhaled through my nose, making my way towards the medbay. You know what? I don't have time to argue with him right now about him visiting Anya, he always thinks he's in the right, so the argument won't really lead to anything.

A week before the crash ᯓ★

Anya looked... on edge recently.

She has been jumpier than before... Now that I think about it, I don't remember her being jumpy in the first week.

I did ask her if something was wrong and that she could talk to me if needed, but she just brushed me off and told me that she was fine. People deal with their problems in different ways, and I get that, but... I'm worried about her.

Right now, I was sitting on the kitchen counter, poking at my food a bit as I was lost in thought.

My thoughts were interrupted by footsteps. I turned around only to spot captain Curly. I smiled at the man, turning fully to greet him.

"Morning, captain." I smiled, "Came for some breakfast?" I asked, as if it wasn't already obvious. The man gave me a tired smile and walked to the kitchen, grabbing the already prepared meal like I had. Anya was kind enough to make us a plate each because I slept in and Curly doesn't come out of the cockpit often, same as Jimmy.

"Yup." He tiredly answered my question, sitting down beside me as he began eating. I observed his tired manors for a couple of seconds, giving him a sympathetic look.

"Need a nap, Curly?" I asked him, taking a bite of my own food as I waited for his response.

"Desperately, but it's not like I can." He sighed, the small smile on his face turning into a small frown. I furrowed my brows at his words.

"How so? Jimmy is there to take over when you're too tired, right?" I questioned, setting down my fork. He furrowed his brows, closing his eyes for a moment. He looked like he had been caught in a lie.

"It's not that... simple." He dragged out his words, which only made me even more confused.

"What do you mean?" I cautiously asked, eying him suspiciously. He exhaled through his nose, setting down his fork as well as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"He just... doesn't look like he's in the right place to maneuver the ship properly." He said, trying to end the conversation with that. But I didn't want to back out that easily.

"He's been in that cockpit almost 24/7 since we boarded. I don't understand how he couldn't control the ship properly." I tried to argue, getting a bit agitated. Why would he think my boyfriend was incompetent? He can take responsibility.

"Just... leave it to me, okay?" He sighed, obviously not wanting to argue, and I respect that.

"... Alright, captain. I trust you." I backed out, standing up to wash my dishes.

"Leave the dishes to me." Curly spoke up, standing up himself to wash his own dish, grabbing mine before I could protest. I smiled, mumbling a quick thank you before making my way towards the medbay.

Zero days before the crash ᯓ★

I was patching up another one of Daisuke's paper cuts. He claims that he doesn't know how to use a band-aid correctly, but I think he just wants to rant to me.

"I wonder what I'm missing back on earth..." He sighed after finishing his long rant about some hard level that he barely passed on his Gameboy.

"You'll be so far back on the trends." I chuckled, patting his paper cut to convince him that it was on correctly.

"Don't you worry about me; I'll easily catch up." He tried to flex his muscles for the dramatic effect. I rolled my eyes at that, patting his shoulder and standing up.

"Well, your injury is taken care of, you can head back to work-" I was interrupted by blaring red lights and alarms.

my heart dropped at that, looking around the room as if I was going to find the source. I looked back towards Daisuke to see his panicked expression.

"Stay here, I'll go look to see what's wrong-"

"Are you insane!? Don't go out, please!" Daisuke pleaded, clinging onto my uniform sleeve to make me stay. My heart ached at his desperate please.

But, then again, it could just be a fake alarm... But that also doesn't mean I should leave him alone-

The whole ship started to shake; the alarms started to blare more loudly and so did Daisuke.

He kept repeating "Oh my god!" and "Please, no!"

I clung to him tightly, covering his head as a sort of instinct as I pulled us down onto the floor. The things on the desk we were next to started to fall onto us and I covered Daisuke from everything. Everything moved and trashed around in the medbay and the only thing I could do is cling to him.

What was going on?

Two months after the crash ᯓ★

I sat next to Jimmy, trying to comfort him by resting my head on his shoulder and slowly petting the back of his hand with my thumb. But he was still tense, his expression looking permanently sour.

"... Talk to me, Jimmy. Please..." I tried to get him to open up. I heard him scoff and moments later he shoved me off of him.

"Fuck off, leave me alone." He grumbled, standing up and storming off. I didn't chase after him.

I let out a long exhale, pinching the bridge of my nose and resting my elbows on my knees. I understood why he would be on edge, I mean, one of his closest friends literally drove the ship into an asteroid, who wouldn't be upset?

But he could at least talk to me about it, I'm his partner after all.

"Are you okay?" I heard a soft voice behind me. I turned around to spot Anya. I put up a fake smile to comfort her though.

"I'm okay, Anya, really." I breathed out, straightening up my posture to mimic a confident look, although failing.

She gave me a pitiful look, taking a seat in the armchair next to me.

"... How have you been holding up?" I asked her after a couple of moments of silence. She was quiet for a little while, making me think it wasn't as well as I previously presumed. I mean- the ship crashed, and Curly is basically lacking skin and limbs but... she strong... Gosh, now I sound like a piece of shit when I really think about it.

"Poorly, I can't..." She closed her eyes, resting her head on the back of the couch. It felt like she was keeping something from me.

"... Nevermind." She muttered, standing up to walk away. I opened my mouth to call out to her, for her to tell me what she wanted, but I held back. Maybe it was better if I didn't know.

Four months after the crash ᯓ★

Everything and on the ship felt eerie.

Daisuke was quieter, which absolutely broke my heart. Anya looked weaker, she couldn't even glance towards Curly or his general direction. Swansea was getting absolutely drunk out of his mind on mouthwash. And Jimmy was... distant.

How could Curly even do this? The last time I talked to him he seemed completely fine, why would he change up so suddenly?

I heard a rough voice call out my name, I turned quickly to spot Swansea.

"Yes?" I hummed. The old man grabbed my forearm roughly.

"We need to talk." He stated, dragging me away from everyone in the main area. Jimmy gave the two of us a glare but stayed in his spot.

After the two of us were out of eyesight and earshot, Swansea let go of me. I was quick to massage the spot he grabbed, giving him a glare.

"There was no need to drag me." I grumbled. Swansea ignored my words and began to talk.

"I already talked to Anya about this beforehand, so this is mostly me telling you the plan." He pointed an accusing finger at me. I stayed quiet, waiting for him to begin talking as I massaged the spot he grabbed.

"There is only on cryogen pod left. And Anya and I agreed to give it to Daisuke." He stated. I gave him a look of confusion.

"I thought the room to the cryogen pods was completely blocked off by foam...?" I muttered in confusion. Why would he lie about something like that?

"I said that because Jimmy would've made it a big deal and it would've been a damn free for all in here." I was offended by his words, giving him a look of disbelief as I took a step back.

"Jimmy? Why would he do that?" I grumbled, making sure to keep my voice quiet. I didn't want him to hear, how offended and utterly hurt he would be if he heard Swansea's accusations.

"He- Never mind..." He gave up on an explanation, and I decided to not push it further. "What I'm trying to say is... We're saving the last pod for Daisuke." He said and I didn't protest, giving him a nod of approval and letting out a sigh of relief.

"Alright... but I should really tell Jimmy tha-"

"One word to him about this and you're dead." He grunted, pointing a finger to my chest before storming off.

I lightly massaged the area where he poked me, watching him walk away with a frown and furrowed brows as I composed myself in silence.

Why are they so against telling Jimmy, their now captain, about the cryogen pod? I don't understand...

---

I was panicking.

Daisuke and Jimmy were nowhere to be seen, Swansea also, and Anya had locked herself in the medicalbay.

"Anya, please open the door, talk to me!" I yelled at the door, my voice shaky and my breaths quick as I leaned against the door, staring at it like I was going to pass through it.

She called my name weakly, making me even more anxious than before.

"I'm... I'm so sorry." She sounded like she was crying, which only made my worries worsen.

"Sorry? You- you don't have anything to be sorry for, Anya. Please open the door for me." I laughed awkwardly, like when you're caught sneaking out by your parents and are trying to make up an excuse.

"Jimmy... he..." Her voice was weak, and the mention of my boyfriend's name made me swallow thickly, afraid of what she would say.

"He what, Anya, please... Say something." I whispered, caressing the door, pretending like I was comforting her.

"I didn't want to... He made me." She called out my name, "He forced me- I'm sorry, I really am..."

I was confused.

"Forced you? Anya, please unlock the door and we'll talk, I won't be mad. Whatever you say I'll understand." I tried talking to her, but she became unresponsive. It stayed like that for a little while before I began banging on her door.

"Anya? Anya please respond-" My blood ran cold as I heard an echoing scream come from within, but it wasn't Anya's... No... Please-

Before I could think of anything else, I felt a sharp pain on the back of my head, and everything went black.

One hour until Judgement ᯓ★

My eyes fluttered open, my breathing slow as I tried to remember what happened. I tried moving but I realized I was tied down onto something.

I blinked rapidly to get used to the new lighting, looking around to see where I was. I was in the common area, living room as Daisuke called it.

Speaking of him, where was he? I remember hearing something... He screamed, he got hurt

I squinted as I looked around rapidly, where was everyone?

"Daisuke? Anya? Jimmy? Swansea? Anyone! Can anyone hear me?!" I yelled, my voice raspy and my head throbbing. It was hard to adjust to the red lighting, but once it did, I tried looking for clues.

"Can anyone hear..." My voice trailed off as I spotted someone lying on the ground, it was heard to see who it was. I squinted and tried to focus.

"Daisuke?" I questioned, but the boy didn't budge.

"Daisuke! Don't fuck with me! Are you alright?" I yelled at him, tugging at my restraints. His lack of a response left me frustrated. I groaned, trashing around to try and loosen up the ropes a bit. Who would even tie me up in the first place?

I managed to loosen up the knots, finding them and untying them in the process. Whoever did tie me up sure didn't pay attention in whatever knot tying class they took.

I sat up straight, looking down to see I was tied up on the coffee table. I stretched a bit, finding the silence awful, but I continued.

I walked towards the laying boy cautiously, my eyes adjusting the closer I got and... Oh... Oh god-

"Daisuke..." I breathed out, eyes wide in horror as I stared at the interns split face.

I quickly ran towards him, crouching down as I didn't want to touch him, feeling like my filthy hands would ruin him.

"What... how-" Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the lifeless body of the intern. I looked back to where I was tied up, jumping and feeling petrified as I saw Swansea's limp body tied up in a chair, how had I not noticed him before?

I switched my gaze between the young intern and the older mechanic, not sure what to do. Is there even anything I can do? Daisuke's skull is literally split open and, by the looks of it, Swansea has two bullets in his head.

I stood up, legs shaking as I walked back, looking down the hall hesitantly and into the medical bay.

I slapped my hand to my mouth as I saw Anya, lifeless with blood seeping from her mouth from what I could see. Quiet sobs left my lips as I tried not falling to the ground. There was only one person who could've done this...

But... Jimmy would never do such a thing! Yes, he may seem a little cold and distant at times but that doesn't mean he's a murderer! He's my boyfriend, he's... he's supposed to be the good guy...

Who else could have done that though? What else could've done that? I looked back at Daisuke.

His head was open, I stated that multiple times... But with what? A pipe couldn't have done that, and the axe was in Swansea's care... Then that would explain him being tied up in a chair.

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.

The harsh reaction I had when I told him I got the job, Anya's usual attitude falling when he was around, looking scared and over all staying quiet... Her words. It all made sense

Not only did he go on a killing spree, but he cheated, he forced himself onto Anya, he traumatized her. He didn't kill her, she killed herself because of him, and that was far worse.

The love I previously had for him seemed to just disappear at that moment, being replaced with guilt, anger.

I heard shuffling, my head snapping to see him.

I looked at Jimmy in absolute horror. No tears, no sobbing, nothing left my lips. There was only one feeling remaining though...

Disgust.

He called out my name, and I couldn't stop the shiver of fear that rushed through me.

"Please... Let me explain."

"Explain what?" I questioned, voice barely audible.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he stuttered, not knowing how to even start his sentence. Pathetic.

"I... I had to! Anya fucking killed herself because of a stupid depressive episode she had! Daisuke got injured in the vents while trying to save her, I tried to save him too, but he was badly injured and Swansea fucking killed him! I had to shoot Swansea in self-defense because he wanted to kill both of us. He tied you up and wanted to kill me because he wanted the cryogen pod all to himself! That was his plan all along! He wanted to leave all of us for dead." His excuses only made me hate him more.

Anya killing herself because of an episode? Swansea killing Daisuke because there was no hope? Him shooting Swansea in self-defense? His story had shitty plot holes, and even I could see that with the two minutes I had to look around.

"..." I stayed quiet, just staring at him in disbelief that he could make up such a statement. How many excuses and lies did he tell me while we were dating?

"... Baby, please-"

"Don't call me that." I hissed, cutting him off mid-sentence, I didn't want to hear any more excuses, any more pleas, nothing. "I'm done." He stared at me in confusion, but I could see his usual irritation growing.

"Done with what?" He hissed back, voice lower, brows knitting together in irritation.

"I'm done with you." I grumbled. I watched him as his grip on the gun got tighter. "I'm done with dealing with your temper tantrums, I'm done with being patient, I'm done with listening to your every order, and I'm done with your cheating."

"Cheating? What are you talking about-"

"I don't want to listen to your annoying voice anymore, Jimmy. I have tried time and time again to ignore your flaws, I tried to see the best in you, but I can't anymore." My heart was beating in my ears. From fear? From anger? I couldn't tell. "All this time while I was on the Tulpar- No, while I've been dating you, you have shown that you don't care about me, and I don't even know why I decided to stay with you for this long."

I could hear his angered breathing even from this far away, which made my fears worsen, but at this point I'd rather be shot than survive.

"Shoot me. I'd rather be dead than carry the burden that I chose to be with you." I mumbled, my voice quieter now as I gave him a challenging look.

The two of us were consumed by silence once more, the sparks of faulty wiring and his intense breathing giving me a sense of anticipation.

I watched him as he raised the gun, a look that I could only describe as disappointment resting on his face.

"You don't understand." He grumbled, the gun aimed at my head. I only glared at him, daring him to pull the trigger. "And I know you never will."

With that, I watched him pull the trigger the last thing I heard was a loud bang before my body hit the floor.

[matrixbearer2024]

Suffering

Are you really even living? Or simply surviving doctor? When had immortality turned from a blessing into a curse? More importantly, did you really even care? Or did you only care because you're now all alone?

AKA; Ford internalizing now that he's alone and invulnerable to the sands of time. The same can't be totally said for his mental state though. After all, he's only human.

Songfic based on "Suffering" by Amelie Farren written for my Time Lord Twins AU!

I'm very delulu for my AU- so have a sneak peek into Doc's future with this song fic I wrote. I have three distinct moments for Stanford as the Doctor in my timelord twins AU:

the Doctor that neglects — when he was young and was only a Doctor thanks to his PhDs

the Doctor that regrets — present, where I normally create content for him and where his blog and RP are currently situated

the Doctor that forgets — the far flung future where he outlives everybody and completely embraces being a time lord

I'll be tagging these posts accordingly, but I'd love to talk about his lore much more if you guys are interested!

The sun had long dipped below the edge of the cosmos, surrendering to the sea of stars that now spilled across the boundless sky. Within the TARDIS, Stanford stood against the vast backdrop of that eternal night, the hum of the ship's machinery a constant, soothing drone beneath the cacophony of his thoughts. The silver pill case in his hand reflected the light of a nearby console, gleaming with a sterile brightness that made his skin crawl. He turned it over between his fingers, contemplating the small white tablets that represented his fragile tether to equilibrium.

  I've thrown aside my worries, but the cares they bite me back. I'm taking twenty vitamins a day, for the iron I lack.

  Stanford grimaced, the corners of his lips pulling downward as the familiar bitterness welled up in his throat. He tilted his head back and swallowed the pills dry, feeling them scrape down his throat as if rebelling against their purpose. Sustenance without substance, that was his life now. He no longer needed food to keep going, no longer needed the simple pleasures of living— he only indulged when he could remember to, when the aching loneliness hadn’t numbed his senses entirely.

  I don't need food I don't need sleep, don't tell me that I'm wrong! I don't know what I'm doing— But can you please just play along?

  The first decade had clawed at him with relentless, gnawing grief. Each year afterward seemed to find a new way to hollow him out, chiseling deeper into the marrow of his being until there was nothing left but the echo of old anguish. He would lie awake in the captain’s chair or pace the TARDIS halls, every footfall a metronome counting out regrets. Days would bleed into each other, a palette of shadows smearing over any sense of time. He’d stopped counting birthdays after the 200th, the last one he’d shared with Stanley.

  Why count when the numbers stretched toward an infinity he wanted nothing to do with?

  My head is made of flowers, and my body made of steel. Cause I can't think— Can't hear— can't feel!

  Stanford’s fingers flexed, muscles tightening and releasing as if testing the reality of their presence. The memories surged forward like a wave, unstoppable and suffocating— hands covered in grime and ash, eyes stinging from the smoke that rose like specters around him, the taste of iron sharp on his tongue. He had touched the stars, commanded them, until they burned him to cinders. His mind was an overgrown thicket now, vines of regret and bitterness weaving through every synapse, thorned reminders of a past he could neither escape nor amend.

  When he closed his eyes, he could see them— faces etched into the void, voices calling out in anguish as they fell. Each step, each choice, stained his path with crimson guilt. He felt like a monument to grief, immovable and ever-decaying.

  They say a picture's worth a thousand words, but I disagree. I can't imagine anything Cause I can't see!

  The doctor let out a breath that shuddered its way past his chest, eyes straying to the holographic stars projected across the TARDIS library. What he once chased with fervor and ambition had turned into an unyielding prison. The titles of “healer” and “teacher”, which once filled him with pride, now felt like weights dragging him deeper into the abyss. What good was saving worlds when he couldn’t save his own heart from splintering?

  I won't break the ice though what else Is there to do? Cause suffering in silence is better—

  He could scream, tear at the walls and curse the very fabric of the universe, but he didn’t. The tears had dried up centuries ago, leaving him a stoic effigy among the whirring consoles and glowing monitors. The charade was familiar— a smile that never reached his eyes, words measured and wrapped in carefully crafted ease. He was an actor in the greatest tragedy ever told, where the curtains never fell.

  Than suffering with you.

  The doctor’s gaze dropped to the leather-bound journal resting on the armrest of his chair, untouched for days. The pages within held maps of stars, sketches of constellations, and annotations written with a frantic hand, desperate to capture even a fragment of meaning. The room around him felt cavernous, echoing with memories of Dipper’s quick wit and Mabel’s bright laughter. He could almost hear them, almost see their shadows darting between bookshelves.

  But it was only him, just him, marooned in this endless stretch of time.

  So I jumped out with a parachute, but the ground caught me off guard. Karma for the rules I break, the ones I disregard.

  The temptation to go back, to step through rifts that bent reality and visit those moments, was irresistible. He’d done it before, left the TARDIS hidden among the trees and traced the familiar paths of Gravity Falls with trembling steps. His heart would clench as he watched past versions of himself and his twin squabble over nonsense, the cheery voices of his grand niece and nephew not long to join. Their voices carrying over the wind with the kind of ease that only came before everything shattered.

  I can feel the tension rising. What fate is worse than this? Stuck between the ones I love—

  He’d watch them, hidden in the shadows of his own memories, a ghost to a life he once lived. Cosmic rules be damned. He’d listen to the echoes of their laughter until it felt like it would break him, that painful, beautiful sound that underscored just how far he’d fallen. But even then, he would not dare approach, would not dare alter a single second.

  And the ones I miss.

  Stanford’s eyes shifted to the flickering flames of the library’s fireplace, its light casting restless, dancing shadows across the room. The orange glow did little to warm the chill embedded in his bones. How many Fords, across how many dimensions, would have craved this? A sanctuary lined with knowledge and power, the respect of entire galaxies balanced on a single whispered name— ‘Doctor.’ And yet, it was all as hollow as the space between the stars.

  My head is made of shrubbery, and my body made of stone. Cause I can't for the life of me— reap what I have sown!

  He tightened his hold on the armrest, the leather creaking under his grip. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. It never should have come to this— sailing across time, trapped in a machine that hummed with its own form of loneliness, while he wore a mask that no one ever questioned. It felt like being both the sculptor and the statue, shaping and trapped by the life he’d carved out.

  They say a picture's worth a thousand words, but I disagree. I can't imagine anything, 'cause I can't see!

  The weight of immortality, once so alluring, now coiled around him like iron shackles. What did it matter if entire legions paused at the utterance of his name? What did it matter if beings far beyond human comprehension flinched at the sight of him? It meant nothing without the echoes of laughter, without the warmth of shared stories and the unspoken understanding of his family’s presence beside him.

  I won't break the ice though what else Is there to do? 'Cause suffering in silence is better—

  He filled the silence with companions, short-lived stars that burned bright and fizzled out too quickly. They were there, and then they weren’t. Time was relentless, wearing them down to memories while he stood unchanged. Each one chipped away at him, left him a little more hollow. His only true constant was Stanley, and even he didn’t know the full story. Ford wouldn’t let him, couldn’t let him see that far into the dark.

  Than suffering with you.

  The TARDIS thrummed, a soft, sympathetic sound that vibrated through his bones as if it, too, mourned the lives they’d shared and lost. Ford exhaled, the heaviness in his chest pressing down like a stone. He could carry this, he would carry this— because if there was one thing he’d learned in all these centuries, it was that some battles are never meant to be shared. Some wars are fought in silence, against an enemy that wore your face in the mirror.

  And if the burden grew too heavy, well— he was the Doctor. He would bear it alone.

  He had to.

  I try to sink and never float.

  Some days, the weight was manageable, a familiar companion that settled over him like a well-worn cloak. But tonight, the burden felt insurmountable, pressing against his chest until each breath tasted sharp, like the metallic tang of blood from battles fought too long ago to matter and yet too vivid to forget.

  Stanford’s eyes turned to the viewport, where the stars blinked back at him with their indifferent light. Once, those points of light had been symbols of promise, of adventure and uncharted paths. Now they were cold eyes watching as he drifted— an eternal voyager, bound by his own choices and the mistakes that clung to him like barnacles on a shipwreck.

  Cause my head is underwater.

  The doctor’s fingers found the edge of his sleeve, gripping it tight as though it could anchor him. The silence roared in his ears, the kind that made old wounds ache with the sharpness of fresh cuts. Memories of splintered wood and that familiar bite of ozone filled his senses. The frantic fight, the blinding light, the hole that had torn through his chest— a wound that should have marked the end. He let out a shuddering breath, feeling phantom pain coil around him like a serpent.

  I’m here by choice by my own hand.

  The most damning part was knowing that every fracture, every scar, was carved by his own hand. He’d walked into the chaos willingly, driven by an insatiable need to prove something— to whom, he couldn’t even remember anymore. A need that had led him to make choices that, at best, haunted him and, at worst, had cost him everything.

  I’m a lamb sent into slaughter.

  He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling the silver strands that had once been a youthful umber. The weight in his chest grew heavier, spreading through his limbs. He remembered the moment he’d sealed his fate with a handshake and a grin, signing away pieces of himself to a demon who promised everything and gave nothing but ruin. Even now, the jeers of that one-eyed triangle haunted the corners of his vision, mocking him with every beat of his undying heart.

  I’m aware of my own body.

  Every nerve ending screamed in protest as memories flared to life. The repair box’s nanobots— an endless legion that buzzed beneath his skin— worked tirelessly, a ceaseless reminder that he wasn’t wholly his own anymore. Some days, he could almost feel them moving, an itch he could never scratch. His hands curled into fists, knuckles turning white as he resisted the impulse to claw at the sensation, to rip it out and make it stop.

  I can feel beneath my skin.

  But he didn’t. He never did. The discipline of centuries held him captive, a slave to his own stoic facade. He swallowed hard, letting the tension dissipate as much as it ever could, settling like sediment at the bottom of his soul. The fire’s light flickered over his features, casting deep shadows that made his face look carved from stone.

  I can wash away my insecurities.

  He stood abruptly, the sudden motion sending a wave of dizziness through him. The doctor steadied himself against the back of the chair, eyes closing as he drew in a breath. The act was as much a ritual as any he performed— a way to wash the fractures of his spirit, to convince himself that he was still whole. But deep down, he knew.

  But can’t wash away my sin!

  No amount of time, no act of heroism, could ever cleanse the burgundy that stained his hands. It was a truth that gnawed at him, a constant shadow that whispered during his moments of quiet. He turned toward the shelves, running a finger over the spine of a book he’d read a hundred times but never truly absorbed. Knowledge without purpose— just like him.

  They say a picture’s worth a thousand words, but I disagree! I can’t imagine anything—

  The holographic stars in the library blinked and swirled, shifting constellations that once spoke of wonder and exploration. Now, they were a cruel reminder of all the places he’d been, all the faces he’d left behind. He raised a fist, hesitated, then let it fall to his side. He couldn’t even find the anger to break the illusion.

  Cause I can’t see!

  His vision blurred, not with tears— those had dried up long ago— but with the weight of exhaustion that pressed down on him like a vice. Every accolade, every whispered praise, fell flat, their meaning washed away by the tides of time and repetition. The applause of civilizations felt no different than the hollow sound of silence.

  I won’t break the ice though what else Is there to do?

  The cold chill crept into his veins, a familiar companion that had shared his endless nights. Yet, he dared not crack the veneer he’d cultivated— that smile, that reassuring nod. It was a mask, as impenetrable as the TARDIS walls. To break it would mean shattering the delicate balance that kept him standing.

  Cause suffering in silence is better—

  Stanford’s fingers brushed against the journal again, the touch almost reverent, as if it held the answers he’d long given up searching for. The one story he couldn’t write was his own— each word caught in the tangle of what-ifs and could-have-beens that ensnared his mind.

  Than suffering with you!

  He swallowed back the ache, pushing it down to the depths where it simmered and seethed. To bear it alone was better; it was safer. The doctor would stand, resolute and silent, a guardian of time burdened by its cruelest truths.

  And as the night deepened, the stars outside continued their silent vigil, unmoved by the man who carried the weight of universes in his lonely fractured heart.

Tell me what you think about these two! I've got more drabbles in store for them aside from the content already on both their blogs @gftimelord & @gftimelordstwin! Also posted here on Ao3!

[oblivionbladetd]

To me it seems Courtney is just lashing out for whatever reason. There is no good reason to not also discuss Lilys media takes besides her horrible actions. As you said a lot about how Lily thinks can be seen from her media takes. Courtney framing this as somehow harming the cause of LOs victims is bizarre. Lorch has done horrible shit, but again as you said if you immedeatly start with that people will think you're just making stuff up. I've observed Courtney for a while now, and they have turned into the most vitriolic rambling version of herself. I dont think he is well, but that doesnt excuse this. Randomely throwing people under the bus to his not entierely insubstantial audience that are austensibely on his side is whats actually harming the cause of Lily Orchards victims, not discussing and dissecting her horrendous media takes.

Dare I say that if anybody deserves the right to be less than quiet about their displeasure, it's Courtney. Like. Objectively so. The house that made Lily who she is was holding back on good old Lorch. I can't fathom the hell Courtney's life had been and it will always be fuckin far from me to dictate their feelings to them. Though I can speak that Courtney certainly isn't helping anyone, including herself with this warpath against a certified silly who's greatest crime against Courtney is a case of cold feet (as far as I know, I'm not privy to the whole story). I can't even be mad, though, for Lily had a very prominent hand in making sure Courtney is like this...

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. If allegations were enough, this conversation has been over for the better half of a decade. It is, in fact, a crying shame that we have to pepper the Lily fans and the general populace with petty, but provable media takes so that when we pull out the big guns, it won't just be thoughtlessly deflected. I'm sure almost all of us would say fuck it to this little dance we have to do with Lorch, but that's just how it is.

To reiterate for the sake of clarity. I find it hard to blame Courtney for her behavior and, on some level, even sympathize with it... but calling Sai and others that take pot shots at Lily's media takes a bunch of pedo smugglers is just isn't fair and indirectly downplaying how important it is to earn the trust of the people organically so they don't just plug their ears when we bring the heavy shit out with what unfortunately will always feel like a "just trust me bro."

Courtney is certainly not well, and at the risk of playing junior psychoanalyst, he probably never was and never will be. Ever. The Peet family made Damn sure of that. As misfortune would have it, Lily stands tall as one that had one of the largest hands in it. Courtney not blowing up like with Sai every other day is a testament of upstanding character in itself with this perspective. It doesn't make it okay, but if the repetition in this post is somehow not making it clear, I understand it very well.

[localcryptidsteg]

So it occurs to me

You cant take on the furry community without crippling Americas stem industry

That being said we have the means to do something really, really dumb and extremely petty and quite possibly a bigger blow to the conservative ego than even simply calling them weird

Whats stopping furry artists from drawing just the most unflattering, gratuitous, kinky smut of Donaled Trump getting railed by, say, a rainbow bear, posting it on every social media platform we can find, and tagging him in it en masse?

We HAVE the power to make this mans name synonymous with what his cultists would find more horrifying than anything else in the world, yall

Tag it as fanart, even. It can't be argued as insulting if it's fanart!

What's he gonna do? Try to stop like 80% of the people in this country who can and will leak ALL his dirty laundry?

Is it gonna be gross? Yes

But just THINK of the chaos it would cause!

[khaosophist]

WAIT A MINUTE.

WE KNOW THAT POSITION!

It is THE position.

We almost forgot...

Such a great way to communicate the context of the statement. The tongue brings it all together into bliss...

Another wonderful view is looking at them from over at an angle to their left or their right. they look up at you like...

I don't know, they only look at us like that...

but they also can't stop themselves from wiggling their lower body from happiness as they laugh while we can't stop staring at them like there's not enough good in the world to express how beautiful they are.

The fertility bell around their neck grasps your heart with more force than a kiss with its faeric tinkling.

_More of that weird ass posting..._

_Leave them alone. You don't have to be a fool to be happy. Just...is authenticity truly worth your stupidity?_

"They were just sharing a memory."

_Yeah? How is that any different than going up to a stranger, and saying, 'Hey, man, you know, we porked our wife, and she like, lifts her legs afterwards cause she wants to be pregnant, HUR DUR' You can't just hide smut behind 'poetic words'. In any case, trying to find comfort in your writing 'style' is just another way of stagnation. Write English, motherfucker; not what you believe to be English..._

" Goddamn...can you even enjoy anything?"

_ Enjoy? Sex is personal, and you're sharing it openly. It's like when people banter about..._

" No, it's not. Nobody is coaxing it out of us, and it's also not a subject they broached rudely...we are the one mentioning it."

_Yeah? Is that right? Did you even ask her if it's okay to share that memory?_

"It's our memory."

_So? She's in it, would you want someone to post a video of you, and when you ask them to take it down they say; Nah, I don't have to, I'm in the video too!'?_

" We only described our emotions and our behavior! No one knows what she looks like!"

_Yeah? What about those OTHER posts?_

" Hey, for all we know, we are making all of this up! Back off!"

_It only takes one person, K_

" You don't feel like a pity party anymore...but something else."

_I'm worse than a pity party, and you've got no word to pin on us! Hahaha. Good luck._

((Anyways...thanks for sharing.))

"What're you looking at?"

Coloured the brush test sketch! She got her peets out and her butt!

[moongothic]

Crocodad AU where immidiately after having left Dragon and his baby boy Crocodile finds an 11 year old Robin. And while he's 100% only recruiting her so they can make a beeline for the Poneglyph and Pluton in Alabasta by the two of them... Crocodile accidentally sorta kinda adopts Robin.

At this point Robin's been running for her life from the Government for three years so her deep trust issues and fear of betrayal are starting to take root in her little heart. Like perhaps they haven't taken fully over yet, and being still a child I'm sure Robin might've still had that genuine hope that she could find a safe place to stay in. But I'm sure the though of "what'll he'll do with me once he gets what he wants?" would be nagging at her at the back of her mind. Meanwhile Crocodile's struggling between the pain and hurt he's already gone through and given him his trademark trust issues, as well as the aftermath of The Dragodile Divorce. But he also has his Fresh Paternal Instincts and probably misses his baby. So when given a small, scared child who is running for her life, being chased by the very same Government that'll want his son dead if they ever find out about him... Yeah that might fuck with your brain a little

You know this post was supposed to be just that first paragraph and just a few footnotes from the following two paragraphs. And then I kept on Having Thoughts. And I kept on writing them down. And oh no what happened when did this post get so long (Look I was going to either kept on writing my Additional Thoughts in the tags or I just put them in the actual fucking post)

Like considder this: based on this one SBS, we can kinda tell that if Crocodile was given a chance to raise a child, that child would be a spoiled little shit, right

So in this scenario, where Crocodile's looking after lil Robin, would he be kind of torn? Unsure how to feel about her?

Because on one hand, this strange child would have the potential to not only ruin his plans, strip him of his Shichibukai Privileges by outing him and his plans to the World Government, but also put his son in grave danger by extension (if she found out about him having been involved with the Revolutionaries and/or having a child). But on the other hand, his paternal instincts could make him want to spoil this poor little girl rotten. But only because he needs to (perhaps literally) buy her trust so she'll behave. No other reason, he doesn't feel sorry for her one bit, no sirree. (But maybe he did feel sorry for her, since his son could very well end up exactly like her. Poor little thing) (Which is why he needs to nuke Marijoa out of orbit as soon as possible, no matter the cost, and this child can't get in the way of Crocodile protecting his son) (But also this is a child. Like how bad could she be. Besides all he really needs to do to win her trust is be nice and make her feel safe, right?)

Of course, while I'm suggesting Crocodile could have some parental instincts, realistically, he hasn't actually spent any time being, you know, a father to a child (looking after his newborn for an unknown though short amount of time aside), so it's possible he wouldn't even know how to parent Robin even if he wanted to, would he? (Like taking care of a newborn and an 11 year old kid aren't the same either) So if he was kind of just emotionally flipflopping between No Trusting Ever and It's Just A Kid for God's Sake, Crocodile trying to be nice to Robin to make her feel safe and then telling himself to stop being so soft and vunerable... Yeah that would make for an absolute mess of a relationship. (Not to mention, let's be real, dude's a scary motherfucker too, and a bloody giant compared to itty bitty baby Robin. He could keep on accidentally scaring the shit out of Robin (who would be On Fucking Edge To Begin With) by just Being Himself. Like for example, can you fucking imagine if he caught Robin trying to cheer herself up with a little "dereshishishi" only to tell her to stop because "it was stupid"? 'Cause I can imagine him doing that, and boy howdy would that make Robin feel bad)

Or who knows, maybe Crocodile was just Born To Be A Dad, maybe he just Fucking Gets It. Like Crocodile is canonically pretty good at manipulating people to do what he wants them to do (see: how he played Vivi like a fiddle), so knowing Robin's position and understanding how she feels, maybe he COULD completely nail how she needed to be treated. Not being too familiar but still making her feel safe and happy, knowing exactly when to be stern and when to spoil her, etc. Dude just goes off and wins the Dad of the Year Award while being a deadbeat dad himself. The only thing Crocodile would have to worry about then would be making sure HE doesn't get too fond of her. And certainly that could never happen, he's so in-touch with his own feelings and so grounded, he's not a softie, get outta here. Or maybe he does but never realizes until it's too late and good luck backpedalling on those emotions now dumbass

Alright so, the reason I went on that whole rmble is just that like. I'm so interested in the relationship Robin and Crocodile already have in canon. I'm so facinated and curious about how the two feel about each other, considdering they did spend 4 whole years of their lives together as criminal business partners, though neither ever trusted the other. A partnership that was only ended because Robin betrayed Crocodile, out of her own trauma. (God, I want to see these two "reunite" so bad, I want to know how they feel about each other now after the timeskip and Robin joining the idiot in flipflops who foiled Croc's plans)

My question here is just that... if they had met 13 years earlier, would things have been different? Especially if Crocodad Real? Because as I mentioned in the begining, Robin would've been on the run for only 3 years by this point, as opposed to 16 years before running into Crocodile. Simultaneously, this would be before Crocodile went onto spend an entire decade all alone, slowly losing his marbles in his emotional solitude. They'd both be emotionally traumatized, yes, but would it have been as bad in this scenario? Like I did start this post kind of joking about Crocodile adopting Robin, and for clarity's sake I don't think they'd have like a father-daughter relationship nececarily. But it would be a strange relationship still, because we'd have two broken people, both struggling to trust anyone. One who had lost her mother and her only friends, leaving her all alone and afraid while running for her life. The other a father who had just given up his son whom he probably missed dearly. Both having these holes in their hearts from loss of family, holes that could not be filled with replacements. But could they find comfort in each other anyway, because they still as people occupy similar roles to their respective loved ones? If they both could just get over those trust issues?

Okay I've been going off on the Emotional Side Of Things for this AU Concept, THERE'S PLOT TOO

So if Crocodile did pick Robin up like 19 years ago, that should be before he set up base in Alabasta, long before he had built is homebase and financial empire etc.

Now the thing is, while we don't know when, where and how Crocodile learned about the Ancient Weapons, Pluton specifically and how the lead on it would be in Alabasta... Considdering Crocodile did once upon a time aim to become Pirate King, it would make perfect sense if he had learned about Poneglyphs during his past adventures, as he would have needed to get the Road Poneglyphs to find One Piece. And while the World Government did bury the truth about why Ohara had been burned down and why Robin had been given her bounty (remember, the WG claimed it was because she had sunken a fleet of battleships, which she had not, it was because she could read the Poneglyphs), considdering this is a Crocodad AU specifically, you could totally make an argument Crocodile could've learned about what actually happened to Ohara from Dragon and co. So, just to make this AU work, you could just assume Crocodile learned about the concept of the Ancient Weapons from Dragon. And who knows, maybe he overheard the truth about why Robin had been given her bounty from Dragon too (maybe Dragon was able to get intel from Garp in secret) or while going to Marijoa himself to attend a Shichibukai meeting or something IDK.

Maybe he learned about Pluton being in Alabasta before finding Robin by accident, and maybe they made a beeline for Alabasta the second Croc recruited Robin. Travelling takes time and the guy would've most likely had to find an Eternal Pose to Alabasta just to get there (also canonically Robin didn't enter the Grand Line until her 20s so they should've met in West Blue probably, since that's where Ohara was) Or maybe Crocodile had to haul Robin around for a few months while looking for That Missing Piece of Information that would lead him to Alabasta. (Imagine the two travelling from like island to island, library to library, Crocodile trying to find that leads while Robin's just so excited about ALL THESE BOOKS (she's helping too with the research) (but to her, research is playtime, so she's just having the time of her life) (Also, notice how Crocodile's Theoretical Child is a fucking loser ass nerd? Yeah Crocodile would encourage Robin reading and studying, surely. And that would be fucking cute))

But like, once they set sail to Alabasta...

Sure, Crocodile could try to do it The Slow Way that we know he tried in canon, building trust and creating his little empire etc. But also, in canon, Crocodile couldn't have jumped into action head first because without Robin, even if he had found the Poneglyph he couldn't have read it and found the location of Pluton. Crocodile choosing to do it the slow way may have been partially because he didn't have much of a choise and it could've felt like the smarter move long-term.

But in this scenario, he already has Robin. Yes, he could do it the slow, secure way.

But what'd be there stopping him from infiltrating Cobra's palace and kidnapping him (in the night, when nobody suspects a thing), demanding Cobra to spill the beans lest Crocodile kills him and/or his pregnant wife* (*Vivi was born 10 months after Luffy so depending on how long it's been between Crocodad leaving Luffy behind and this scenario... Yeah either the wife is there, still pregnant, or there's a newborn Baby Vivi)

Like it'd be a risky move but depending on how ballsy Croc's feeling and how confident he feels in being able to kidnap the king without being noticed... Yeah he could probably do it. And I'm sure he'd have no problem killing Cobra either, if anything it'd be required if he didn't want the Government to find out he was out to find Pluton, and god knows Cobra would tell on Crocodile if left alive. I could see Crocodad being maybe a little iffy about killing Baby Vivi though (it's not like the newborn baby could report him to the WG anyways), but if nothing else, he just needs to be able to pull off the bluff of his life to convince Cobra to do as he's told. And we all know Crocodile's good at convincing people.

The only question is, how would Robin take that?

Watching Crocodile go into Full Murder Mode, hearing him say he'd kill a pregnant woman/a newborn baby if he didn't get what he wanted? Like yeah, I'm sure 11 year old Robin would be fine with that, that wouldn't make any alarm bells go off in her head at all, it'd be fiiiine. IT WOULD NOT BE FINE, SHE'D BE SCARED SHITLESS. That fear of "what will he do with me when he gets what he wants"? Well, Robin may not have found the answer to that question in particular, but she certainly found the answer to the opposite question, and it's not good

So say Cobra, kidnapped (perhaps with Baby Vivi) by Crocodile in the night, guides the two to the Poneglyph under the tombs. Crocodile puts Cobra out of his misery because he's not needed anymore. And he asks Robin to read the Poneglyph for him.

Robin, who has spent the last little while, be it weeks or months with Crocodile, him having become her "guardian", the thing keeping her safe. Crocodile, who has now shown how cold blooded and cruel he can be. Robin, who might be scared out of her mind. Of him.

And the Poneglyph says Pluton, the thing Crocodile wants, isn't there. It's in Wano.

What's she going to do?

EDIT: I wrote a sequel post, enjoy

[umblrspectrum]

i think the idea of v finding uzis last name hilarious is a really funny one

[94erz]

Semi-related to the stuff I post here but anyone else aware of the RIIZE situation? The fact they put him on hiatus just because of a ''dating scandal'' only to finally announce he's coming back TWO DAYS ago and now he's been officially kicked out 'cause Korean fans (mostly girls who are insane and don't view idols as humans) threw a huge fit about it.

As an outsider of the group/fandom I can't speak too much about them but as a k-pop industry anti there's a lot to say about that. It's just so insane to me that in the year 2024, going on 2025, the built-in conception that idols belong to fans, love fans, are dedicated to their fans, and cannot have ACTUAL real love lives without it ruining their entire career is PSYCHOTIC. I cannot stress enough how ABNORMAL and WEIRD that is. I literally do not care to say that at all like if you (general) think it's okay to harass and bully any celebrity, but in this specific case k-pop idols, for doing the most human of things like going out with someone you're a freak, a loser, and you don't deserve to be a fan of anyone.

This idea that fans genuinely believe they have power to control another person's life, because they've been sold that idea by a corporation that makes money off of it, is so fucked up. But what's even worse in this situation is that the company completely threw him under the fucking bus once he lost value in their eyes. They don't care about talent, they don't care about the years of training he put in, they don't care about the relationships and bonds formed between the members that they are now tearing apart, all they wanted to use him for was to sell an image of him to fans, and now that the image has been ''ruined'' to a subset of that fandom, he's worthless to them, so they threw him away.

It's some nasty business. I have so little respect for fans who treat other people like toys, the complete and utter dehumanization of these people just doing a job, and it affects all of them. Like this is not the first and sadly won't be the last a situation like this happens until something about the industry and fan behavior changes.

[caloboletus-rubripes]

hey how do you forgive yourself for doing something something you feel is irrevocably embarrassing even though you know you can do anything you want forever

like how do you unlearn that shame

[as-rare-as-trees]

I saw on instagram some silly high heeled flip flops and the way I NEED to draw Will wearing them