#id just have gotten it back at my country

[iamatinydinosaur]

Hello! I really liked the wording of my application and thank you very much :DSomething I hadn't considered until I read it is thatThe brother reader will have unconsciously seen Ramón on a couple of occasions as a father figure since he was the only one who took care of the reader for 20 years. Thinking of Ramón as a “papá luchon” seems adorable to me (in my country we refer to single fathers and mothers who support their children with their own work, without any other presence to help them, therefore, they have to fight against the adversities) If possible, can you write something related to this topic about Ramón and the reader? (gender neutral)

🐾Branch🐾

Through the Years

You were 3 and Branch was 5 when Grandma died. It was just you two. You watched as your older brother lost his colors. You were so scared. Branch saw this and promised he would never let anything happen to you. You were all he had left. Grandma's death effected you a lot, just not to the extent that it effected Branch. You were afraid of everything, never wanting to leave Branch's side. He preferred this anyways.

You Age 7 and Branch age 9

You ran into the bunker crying. Branch ran into the main room. "Y/N what's wrong?!" He exclaimed seeing you covered in scratches, dirt and slightly bleeding. "I w-as col-lecting berries and some sp-id-ers attac-ked me." You hiccuped. Branch got a napkin and wiped your tears away. "I told you to wait for me before you went to go get the berries." He whispered grabbing a warm bowl of water with a rag and a first aid kit. He rung out the rag and started wiping the wet rag over your face to get rid of the dirt. "I wanted to surprise you and show I'm getting big and help you." You pouted, sniffling. "You do so much. Maybe if I helped more maybe your colors would come back..." You looked down. Branch's heart swelled. He kissed your forehead. You looked at him shocked. "You're growing up too quickly. Stop it." He said smiling as he cleaned your scrapes. You giggled.

You age 10 Branch age 12

Branch laughed. You had made a dance number to your favourite song. You wore a silly outfit and danced horribly. Branch knew he had to help your dancing ability. You stroked your ending pose.

Branch fell on the floor laughing his hardest. "Did you like it?!" You exclaimed jumping up and down. Branch wiped his tears getting up. "It was amazing. But let me help you improve the dancing. Your voice is amazing but your moves..." He teased. The rest of the day Branch showed you to do the moves better. This was the first time in 5 years you had seen him dance again. "Just like that see." He said turning to you. However, he froze seeing tears in your eyes. "What's wrong! I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.!" He exclaimed hugging you. "No, no. You used to dance and sing all the time before Grandma... I just missed this." You mumbled hugging him.

You age 14 Branch age 16

It was Branch's 16th birthday. You had gotten up at 4. Branch gets up at 6 am everyday so you wanted his birthday breakfast ready before he got up. You had been practicing this breakfast for the past month after he's gone the bed to make sure it's perfect. It was about 5:55 when you had finished. You made for the both of you eggs Benedict, blueberry scones, fresh apple juice and bagels with an assortment of jams. "Morning Y/N, why are yo-" He stopped mid sentence when he saw the dining room table. His eyes watered and looked at you. "Happy Birthday Branch!"

You age 18 and Branch age 20

You layed on your bed, covers over your head. You sniffled. You had just got back from what was supposed to be your 1 year anniversary date with your partner. "Hey." Branch said softly holding two cups of hot chocolate with marshmallows and cream. He placed them on your bedside table. You curled into a tighter ball. Branch sighed sitting on your bed. You slowly pulled the blanket off your face. Your cheeks were puffy, tear marks ran down your face and your eyes were bloodshot. "What happened?" He asked pulling your head onto his lap. "They broke up with me. They love someone else." You whispered burying your head into his stomach. This irked Branch. This low life scum hurting his baby sibling. "When I see this punk again I swear." He grumbled rubbing your back. This made you giggle slightly. "I made your favorite, hot chocolate." He whispered brushing your hair. You rolled over and sat up. You smiled taking it. You knew you'd always be able to count on your big brother.

A/N: I loved writing this. When I got this request I always thought Branch would only show you things he never did in the first movie (just not singing) I hope you like it!! ✨✨

#trolls band together #brozone #branch x sibling reader #branch trolls

[crushedsweets]

30y old Toby headcanons?

this is all written under the assumption that nobody is dead or in prison, also written for my AU in which slenderman and the operator are opposing forces, with slenderman taking the operators victims as proxies

at this point tim and brian would have completely gotten away from slenderman/the operator, being well into their 40s. probably moved all the way to the west coast, maybe even out of the country.

which means there'd only be kate and toby left. they'd both be exhausted. the operator and slenderman wouldve been 'fighting' for ~25+ years by now, so they have longer periods of going dormant - but they are still immortal entities, so there is no quitting. kate would've moved full time into the proxy cabin, rather than the mines, so they'd be spending a lot of time together.

clocky is the closest to toby, but by now she'd have a nice little apartment and is working full time. her time under the operators influence is completely over. maybe toby would move in with her, but she'd be hesitant. loves him to death but she's trying to get away from the shit that toby would always come back to. she wants to find peace

he'd still have to be working in places that dont require a background check. or even an ID. or be willing to pay in cash. he still gets angry to the point of tears knowing he'll never be able to move freely through the world since his name, DNA, fingerprints all link him back to his dad. even 13 years later he cant get away from his dad

he misses tim and brian. they were awful to him half the time, but sometimes they were like father figures - tim taught toby how to drive, brian patched toby up countless times, they've all sat and had a few drinks together and watched some movies, they were all toby had for a year after his dads death. but they completely cut toby off, probably completely cut eachother off too - toby couldnt find them even if he tried. which he did, for a while

toby would stop trying to visit his mom, but he'd still visit lyras grave. he used to drop flowers off mothers day, birthday, christmas - he'd find some train that'll take him as far as possible and just leave them out for his mom. usually he found gloves, jackets, blankets laying out on the porch he left them on. he stopped when his mom inevitably moved out of her sisters house, he has no idea where she went.

maybe there would be new proxies to take in. some kid who just killed their best friend and finds themself constantly waking up in random areas with blood on their hands, throwing up black liquid and seeing weird faceless men all around - and toby would have to take on tim and brians role, and try to help this kid, and try to be better, and try not to beat their ass everytime they piss him off. try not to treat them the way he was treated. it would suck ass watching that happen to someone else, but part of him would think maybe that means it's time him and kate can finally escape - but there is something about toby and kate that cant seem to shake slenderman, not the way the others did

i think 30 year old toby would be pretty somber all around. any initial rage that fueled him, or excitement that motivated him, or joy he found in the freaks around him would've worn off by now

#asks #creeped #creepypasta #creepypasta headcannons #ticci toby #toby rogers

[ryo-kaikura]

Part 1

Yan Sub ftm OC x dom killer male reader x Yan Sub ftm OC

OC :Duri and Saru

Reader is 27 and OC's are 22

cw: killing, cnc, obsessive

I don't really know how to do this but ok

Duri's POV

O my fucking God, I didn't think this was gonna happen. I mean I was paid like $10,000 just to be here but I didn't know this was the house of a killer. At first when we got here nobody was in the house but then the owner came in and we wanted to knock him out so we can steal stuff but when he came in he help a knife and was dripping wet with blood.

All of a sudden, he was chasing us and got Chris and Marisa, then I hid in this bedroom and I can hear him coming. What can I do, I haven't even gotten a boyfriend yet T_T.

3rd POV

Damn these kids, ruining your furniture and shit. You know one of them is in my bedroom so you went there. Wow what a pretty boy such a same he broke into your hou- "wai-wait, sir please don't kill me I'll do anything please, I'l- I'll even give my body for you" "You mean you'll get fucked by me and I let you live?" "yes" "Alright, been pent up for months without a good fuck"

Without warning you threw him to your bed and took of your clothes and it seems he's eager too seeing how he's trying so hard to remove one button. After you removed your clothes and went to the bed and tore his clothes that took way too long. Now he's left in his -panties? Huh. Well would you look at that he has a pussy. "The name you'll be screaming is (name) got it" With a nod you continue

After making it wet enough you went in and God "god you're a virgin aren't you with pussy this tight and a lil blood on my cock you were a virgin" He can't even answer putting in your cock must've been heaven for him. "Oh yeah what's your name" "Oh-MHnn" You slap his ass "answer me slut" "Du- OoOh- ri" " Ok duri guess you're going to be my bitch till I get bored of you" Fucking hell this is the best cunt I had in month. After cumming like three time in him and him squirting and cumming like 20 times plus he looked so out of it you get back to killing two more of the kids, how you know well you asked you bitch how many friends he brought with him.

After searching for 5 minutes you found a girl well she was screeching so you killed her.

After 20 minutes of searching you got tired and wanted to get you new toy in your car.

And would you look at that, the last person was trying to get Duri to get up and leave. So you knocked him out, pick Duri up, put a vibrating dick toy in him and put it on low, tie up his hands, and go back for the last target.

And again another kid that wanted to get fucked by you. And another pussy boy. Seeing as there is no harm to let out more of that pent up cum you strip him till he has no more clothes, make him wet and fuck him till he's oversimulated cumming hard and got is he tight. After a while you're done with him but decided to just leave him there, you then figured out his name is Saru from his ID and that he own an infamous information place so you put you number in his phone then fuck his mouth and take a pic with it. You then leave him a check to a house then give him some of your old clothes then leave with your new toy struggling with a toy stuck in his pussy giving him minimal stimulation.

After getting tot he new house, you got him of and in the dead of the night you fuck him while getting inside your new house with all your trained maid and Butlers. The next day you gave duri an afterpill and put in something to prevent pregnancy.

On the other side of the country, after Saru woke up he was sad you didn't take him with you. Originally Saru told those idiots to break into this house then when you killed them all he can make you fuck him then you would have kept him but that boy took his place. But he's fine with not being your stress reliever because of the picture of your dick and the video of you cock going into his pussy and you fucking his mouth, god he's already cumming.

Oh, (name) this won't be the last time we fuck and next time we'll be together till we both die~

#dom male reader #male yandere x male reader #top male reader #yandere x male reader #male reader #x male reader

[adventuringblind]

If you’re still taking requests can you write something where you meet Lando at a club during a race week, like the club id in your hometown and he’s there for the race, and he never finds you after that weekend, and like the only thing he has I a picture you took on his phone with him but he really wants to find you and he goes back to that club the next year during the race to try and find you, idk if I explained well but is this thing we’re you meet someone and have that instant pull but never see each other and when you finaly find each other it’s mike an instant click again

Cinderella

Lando Norris X Reader

Genre: Fluffy stuffs

Request: yesssss I love this idea! My requests are still open! Send me ideas it's my favorite thing to hear them

Warnings: It's titled Cinderella... toxic family behaviors, also not proofread because that’s hard and I’m not getting paid for this

Notes: written in third person. I think my new goal is to make a fairytale version for each driver. So of y'all want to see more of this please let me know and if you have any pairing ideas I'd be happy to hear them.

So I'm not sure about how other countries do their addresses. I am from the US and am basing the address format off of that. Apologies if there is any confusion 😅

Masterlist

He didn't believe love at first sight could be possible. It didn't make any sense. But as Lando laid his eyes on her, somehow he just knew.

Maybe it was her smile from across the bar at him. Maybe it was the alcohol that made his confidence go up. Maybe it was the way she laughed at all his antics and jokes. He didn't know, but he was sure he'd never felt more comfortable than with this stranger.

They talked the entire night. They danced until their legs gave out. Then they parted ways.

It was the next morning he realized he didn't get her number. The devastation hitting him like a truck.

Everyone around Lando tried to get to the bottom of his depressed state. Nobody could figure out why he stared at the same picture everyday for over a month.

That stupid selfie he took of the two. He tried everything he knew to find her. Using that picture as his guide. He tried searching her name on socials, but either her account was private or she didn't have any.

Maybe he was imagining everything. She was a ghost, and he was officially crazy.

~

Lando. The attractive male she met at the bar. How had one man done so much to her in one night?

She'd purposely not left him with her contact information. Her family was difficult when it came to privacy.

She wanted to go find him. However, she had already gotten herself in trouble for going to the bar in the first place.

Her stepmother and adoptive sisters made it a point to make her life difficult.x she didn't need to be dragging her relationship through the mud like that.

So why couldn't she stop thinking about him? Was it the way he was so gentle with her when they danced? Was it how his smile and laugh lit up the entire vicinity? How he was impressively respectful? She didn't know, but she felt more at home with a stranger then at her actually home.

It felt ridiculous to be moping over him. She'd never see him again, and he probably wasn't thinking about her. Yet she couldn't stop herself from letting her thoughts drift back to the Brit and his lovely eyes.

~

It had been a year, but Lando never stopped looking.

He'd been on some dates. His friends were tired of him playing detective. They'd tried to help him find her, then resorted to helping him move on from this mysterious and elusive female.

However, Lando Norris was determined. He would go door to door if he had to.

Is this determined state, he dragged Max out to the bar where he met her. Exactly a year later.

Max sighed in exasperation but indulged his friend nonetheless. He wanted to help him get some closure, if anything. Lando reluctantly agreed. If she wasn't here, then he would move on from it.

He waited at the bar. His eyes scan the crowds of people for and sign of that familiarity he had once before.

Max did his best to help. The picture is not giving him much to go off.

But it was her that spotted them first.

Lando was out of his seat in an instant. His body moves faster than his brain. He wasn't thinking properly.

When his lips landed on hers, everything fell into place. He didn't care if she didn't remember. He needed this for himself, and then he could move on.

He was shocked when she kissed him back. She gripped his shoulders while he let his arms wrap around her. As if one would dissapear if the other let go.

"You found me." She said breathless as they pulled away from eachother.

~

It was the one weekend she had the house to herself. The rest of her family went on some sort of vacation. They never invited her. Something about it being relatives only.

She didn't care, though. Her friends would be showing up any minute to whisk her away for a night out.

It had been a year since a stranger stole her world. She doubted she would see him there. The odds of it unlikely.

When they arrived, she quickly made her way to the bar. Her mind is ready to let loose for the night.

Then she laid eyes on him. The man who shed been thinking about for the last year.

She thought she might be seeing things. Willing him to be there in front of her. Her careful steps forward only make her more nervous.

She was received when he came to her. The kiss he placed on her lips, sending her body into shock.

Yet she embraced it because he felt like home.

It was almost midnight, and the two had spent the majority just talking. Dancing in between conversations.

She was pulling out her phone when she saw she had an unread message. She was going to get his number this time, but the distraction of the text sent her mind into a tizzy.

There was an emergency, so we're on the next flight home.

It was from one of her stepsisters. The panic set in faster than anything, and instead of her number, she pulled out a pen and reached for a napkin. Her hand frantically scribbled her address.

"Come find me."

She slid the napkin to Lando. Then ran off with one of her friends. Leaving the male in confusion.

~

Technically speaking, Max didn't have to be here. But driving around and knocking on stranger doors didn't seem like something he should let his friend do alone

Lando, on the other hand, had thrown caution to the wind. He was practically shaking in excitement.

Though he was a bit frustrated that this was taking ao long. He had an entire address except for the last number on the house. Meaning he had to knock on every door in the area until he found the right one.

The next door was opened by an older looking woman. She looked angry at him even though he hadn't done anything yet.

He cleared his throat and went into his explanation. "Hello, I'm looking for a girl, she gave me her adress but left out the last number and so I was wondering if maybe she lives here?" He explains, holding up his phone to show her the picture.

"No. I don't know her... but maybe one of my other daughters does." She changed her tone immediately upon really looking at Lando. "Would you mind coming inside and maybe we can help?"

Lando was skeptical. He didn't know what to do. Max took that as his cue to also get out of the car and join him.

The woman motioned the two to follow her. The door closing loudly behind them. Lando wanted to cringe at the smell. Strong perfume singed inside his nose.

The two males followed her into the dining room and gestured for them to have a seat. Then scurried off to find her daughter's.

She reappeared a few minutes later with two younger women. Definitely not ones he was looking for.

It felt more like they were being shown off than helping. Both of them batting their eyelashes at him and Max

They were going over who lived in each house he hadn't been to yet. How maybe he had the wrong address. How they should stay for dinner that night.

Lando felt uncomfortable. Thankful Max was politely turning away each unwanted advance.

"I hate to ask, but we've been driving around all day, can I please use your restroom?"

One of the younger females showed him down the hall. Brushing her hand up against his at every given opportunity.

He felt relieved to be away from the situation. He didn't actually need to use the bathroom. He just needed a break. He leaned against the counter. Preparing himself to figure out how he was going to find her now.

Then he heard it. Muffled shouts from further down the hall.

He quietly excited the bathroom and tiptoes his way towards the muffled panicked shouts.

"Lando! I'm here!" Came a familiar voice. "Please, they locked me inside."

Lando tried the doorknob. Obviously, it didn't work. So he tapped the door. "Is there a window you can get through?" He whispered to the door. He could hear her sigh in relief at hearing his voice.

"Yes, but their is a drop-off. It's almost 13 feet up."

Lando was not going to let all his searching go to waste. So he came up with a plan.

~

Max was making his best attempt at polite conversation when Lando practally dragged him out. "There's been an emergency, and we're needed back at the hotel."

Max waved goodbye and thanked them for their time. Leaving the three strange women in a state of shock and confusion.

When they got in the car, Max was ready to lecture him. However, Lando beat him to it with an explanation.

"She's there. They locked her in her room. Since it's an older house, we need a key to unlock it. So I'm coming back tonight to help her leave through her window."

Max was at a loss for words. Again, feeling the need to help Lando in his quest for love.

"Okay. When do we start?"

~

They came back when it was dark. Parking the car one street away so they wouldn't be spotted.

It was an ungodly hour in the morning. Yet the young woman had never felt more energized.

She hastily scribbled a note to her family. Not about where she was going, just that she was leaving and didn't want them to look for her. Not that they would.

She'd packed a bag of her belongings. Small things she couldn't replace and the necessities. Lando had laughed when she panicked about what to bring with her. Making her a promise that if she stayed with him, he would take care of her. The girls anxiety settled after that.

She'd managed to pop out the screen of the window. Peeking her head outside to see if anyone was around. The drop wasn't terrible. 12 and a half feet wouldn't do that much damage if she landed it right.

At least, that's what she was telling herself.

Ten minutes later, Lando was shining a light in her window. A rope in his hands and Max at his side. She'd briefly met the Dutch at the bar.

Lando tossed up one end of a rope to her. It almost hit her face because she wasn't expecting it.

She secured it tightly to the door handle. Then sat at in the window. Her legs dangling, hands clutching the rope.

"I'll catch if you fall, I promise." Lando encourages. Making her feel a little better.

She breathes deeply and starts her descent before she can think about it any longer. Using the rope to slow down her fall as gravity does its job. Her hands were burning when she felt the ground touch her feet. Her knees buckling with the sudden weight.

Lando was immediately pulling her into himself. Kissing her red hands.

Then they went back to the car.

~

It was a crazy idea. The existence of true love. But they say true love always finds you. And as the two strangers, tied together by a red string, they realized it was true.

#x reader #fanficion #f1 fic #formula one #formula 1 #racing #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #lando norris f1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando #norris #max verstappen x y/n #cinderella #mclaren racing #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #mclaren f1 #ln4 #ln4 x reader #max #verstappen #papaya #orange army #fairytale #fluff #lando norris fanfic

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Mind the Gap, Chapter 1

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x F!Reader, Matt Murdock & Reader (Platonic)

Rating: E

Word count (per chapter): ~500 (Just to set the story up, future chapters will be longer!)

Story Summary: When Michael gets sent across the pond to fix an issue with the Kinsella clan's drug trade expansion into New York City, he never expected to meet and fall for a pretty law clerk from the office of Nelson, Murdock, and Page. But when she gets abducted by a rival cartel, Michael will have to enlist the help of the very vigilante that's trying to take down his entire operation.

Warnings/Tags: Kin/Daredevil crossover, Canon-typical violence (for both shows), Platonic Matt Murdock/Reader, Smut in later chapters, More tags to come

A/N: After announcing this MONTHS ago, it's finally here -- the Daredevil/Kin crossover no one asked for, but I decided to write anyway. Lol

Note that this is a Michael Kinsella x Reader fic -- there is no love triangle between Mikey, Reader, and Matt.

If you want to be added to the taglist for this or any of my other ongoing stories, or if I was supposed to tag you/tagged you in error, please let me know!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @cheshirecat484 @thornbushrose @shouldbestudying41 @finnishjerseygirl @ednaaa-04 @ebathory997 @beezusvreeland @capylore

Fuckin' hell, let's get this over with, Michael Kinsella thought to himself as he trudged up the driveway to his sister-in-law’s house.

He had just gotten word that the Garda had wrapped up their investigation into his father's and uncle’s deaths and had ruled the case a murder-suicide -- therefore clearing him from further questioning -- when Amanda had texted that she was calling a meeting.

Amanda opened the door before he had even reached it. “Hey,” she said.

Michael walked in. “Hi.”

Amanda closed the door behind him. “Hadn't seen ya in a while.”

Aye, and there's a fuckin' reason for tha’, Michael thought.

As Amanda had started taking over more and more territory and doing whatever she had to in order to stay on top, Michael had realized that it hadn't ever been him that she had wanted, it had been the Kinsella name and the power and prestige that had come with it. 

While he hadn't ever regretted having Jamie, he had regretted sleeping with Amanda when she had come on to him while Jimmy had been in prison all those years ago and again more recently when her marriage had been falling apart and Michael had been dealing with finding out about Molly being engaged.

He shrugged. “Been busy.”

“Wan’ a drink?”

Michael shook his head. What he wanted was to go back home.

Amanda pursed her lips, but before she could say anything else, Birdy arrived.

“So what's ya call a meetin’ for?” Michael asked once they had all sat down at Amanda's kitchen table.

Amanda folded her hands together in front of her and leaned forward. “I called ya over because we're takin’ over some operations in America and I need ya ta go oversee tha transfer. There's been some issues.”

Michael was taken aback. “Me? Why me?”

“Because we're all busy -- I’m tryin’ ta clean up tha mess Bren left while also dealin’ wit' Jimmy's shite, Viking is workin' on getting tha houses reopened, and Birdy's still dealin’ with Frank's estate. Yer’ that only one left who we can trust ta take care a’ things.”

“Plus I think it'll be good for ya to get away for a while ‘till things settle down again,” Birdy added. 

Michael shook his head. “Are ya forgettin’ tha’ I'm a convicted felon? They won' even let me on a plane, much less inta another country.”

“Tha's already taken care of.” Birdy picked up a manilla envelope off of the table and handed it to him. “Everything is in here.”

Michael opened it to find an ID and passport.

He looked at the ID. “Michael O’Brien?”

Amanda shrugged. “Best we could do on short notice. ‘Least ya get ta go by yer first name.”

Birdy cut her eyes over to Amanda briefly before turning back towards Michael. “Flight’s already booked. Ya leave on Thursday.”

Michael sighed, resigned. “Where exactly am I goin?”

A satisfied look spread across Amanda's face as she leaned back. “New York City.”

#lotmf writes #michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella fanfic #michael kinsella fanfiction #kin rte #kin amc #kin bbc #Mind the Gap Masterlist

[demxnicprxncess]

request - you’re an interviewer and get assigned to interview kai during election season. you don’t align with his political beliefs and accidentally say something that goes against what he was saying. knowing that you’re scared of upsetting him, as well as having a bad interview, kai suggests that you suck him off as a way to ask for an interview retake.

ouuuuu i love the creativity! of course ill do it. id succ his dicc without pissing him off tbh.

"Get on your knees." (Kai Anderson x GN! Reader however I imagined them as a girl)

Warnings: Kai Anderson, public sex, sex tape, oral (k), degrading, unprofessionalism, talks of racism, I used MY BELIEFS in what was said by interviewer.

I sat down in my seat, carefully organizing my cards with questions written on them and little information on the topic. I analyzed each question and prepared myself for every question there would be, alongside all the possible answers. I never truly agreed with what Mr. Anderson had to say, and I'm sure I never would. I watched as he walked in, his hair put neatly into a bun, I could tell he had clearly obviously been pissed off, that had settled me into my "Don't fuck with him" mode. "Hello Mr. Anderson." I watched as he gave me a simple smile, "Hello there." He took a seat across from where I would sit. "I'm just going to set the camera up give me a moment please." He nodded simply as I walked over to the little tripod and set up the camera, it fell off the small table it rested on making me bend over to pick it up. I felt him stare at me ever so intensely as I picked up the little camera. "I apologize Mr. Anderson." He just chuckled softly but didn't utter a word. I clicked the start waiting for the three beeps before I began talking. "Hello, I am (name) and I'm here with a candidate for senator. Mr. Anderson, it is truly an honor to get an interview with you. I was so surprised when you agreed." He smiled straightening out his back before replying, "Well, I seen you and did a bit of research, along the time of my research you struck me as someone who valued the true American Dream." The way he worded it seemed so condescending however I smiled and looked down at my shoes before slightly shifting in my seat. "I'm flattered Mr. Anderson. If you don't mind, I'd love to begin our questioning." He simply nodded at me. "So, as you know, Trump has gotten 452 miles of the wall done. How do you feel to know that he is actually building the wall?" His smile got a bit wider as he leaned forward slightly. "I think he's doing an amazing thing. Americans are losing their jobs that they worked to receive, to foreigners who don't even belong here." The way he worded it sending me into a bit of discomfort. "Can you please elaborate on what you mean?" He smirked, "The wall is needed to keep those terrorists out of our country." he leaned back in his chair still smirking, "It'll make America great again." I had it. If no one would speak up, I would. I couldn't take this; no amount of money would ever leave me to act as if this man was right. "I highly disagree. America was never truly great; it was built off of racism and-" He sighed, cutting me off, "You're delusional, slavery was so long ago it should just be forgotten, do you not agree?" I glared at him; how can a man of such great power be so ignorant to society. "I absolutely do not agree. It shouldn't be forgotten; and that is not the only racism. America started when we decided to kill off Native Americans from THEIR land. You tell people to go back to where they came from, but your ancestors weren't born here. Were they Mr. Anderson?" I watched as his face grew hot with anger. "Excuse you? I had instantly snapped back into my professionalism, "I apologize Mr. Anderson, I-" he stood up walking to me. "Get on your knees." I was confused, "I beg your pardon?" He sighed a mumbled something about dumb sluts before forcing me onto my knees. "What are you-" He slapped me an put his finger on my lips. He used the other hand to snatch his pants down and open my mouth, shoving his dick in my mouth. "mmmm, using your mouth for good. Look at the camera while you choke on my dick" I felt myself gag as he rammed his dick down my throat, spit pooling around his cock and down my chin as I looked at the camera. "Fuck, I'm going to cum in this pretty little mouth and you're going to swallow it. It's a privilege to pleasure me. Isn't that, right?" I nodded before I felt his grip tighten on my hair. The overwhelming feeling of his seed shooting down my throat as I struggle to swallow it all. "Oh shit, you're a good fuck honey." I look up at him. "I think that concludes our interview right (name)" I nodded quickly before crawling to the camera to cut it off. "Send me that."

Should I do part two?!

taglist: @yes-divine-ruler, @ppawmpkin

#ahs fandom #evan peters #american horror story #evan peters imagine #evan peters x reader #evan peters smut #kai anderson #kai anderson smut #kai anderson imagine #kai x reader #ahs cult #ahs smut #request #ahs kai anderson #hope you enjoy

[sainzfilm]

🏡 coming home - esteban ocon 🏡

summary: the blizzard caused flights across the country to be cancelled, which ended up to be terrible on your boyfriend’s end as he wanted to come home to you for the holidays. would that stop him or are you spending christmas alone?

taglist: @svechyaho @squderia @idkiwantchocolatee @koufaxx @melonunicornbby @myescapefromthislife @slut-era @pachiibatt @estevries @dan3avocado @sidcrosbyspuck @barzysreputation @verclercswiftie @mick2mercedes @mehrmonga

check out my winter wonderland celebration!

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Blindly reaching for your ringing phone over on the nightstand, you frowned as you checked the clock. It was nearly 4 in the morning, how did you manage to fall asleep while watching a film?

“You better be calling for a good reason,” You muttered sleepily, not bothering to check the caller ID, “I was asleep.”

“I should drop the call then,” Esteban joked nervously, pacing around the airport, “Sorry to wake you, darling.”

Smiling to yourself, you put the phone on loudspeaker and set it on the pillow, “What’s got you calling at this time?”

“Flights got cancelled, Y/N,” He sighed, running a hand down his face, “Apparently there’s a blizzard.”

If you weren’t awake earlier, you were definitely awake now. You were staring at the ceiling in the dark, feeling your heart drop and a frown forming on your face, “So…you can’t come home?”

Esteban raised a finger to a chauffeur, signaling to give him a moment, “I promise I’m trying to make ends meet, darling. I’m doing everything I can.”

“Yeah, I know,” You mumbled, deadpanned, “I’d rather have you safe than be in danger from coming home for Christmas.”

“Y/N…” Esteban said softly, loading his luggage in the van, “I’ll be home. That’s a promise.”

“Just be careful, I don’t know what plans you have,” You replied, sitting up on the bed, “I’m going to need occasional updates, Esteban.”

Nodding with a chuckle, Esteban replied, “I have to go now, I love you. Go back to sleep.”

“I love you,” You yawned, rubbing your eyes, “Be safe.”

As the line went silent, you sighed and switched the television to the local news, which definitely did not help the anxieties running through your head about your boyfriend’s safety.

On the other end, Esteban was sitting inside a van alongside a few other people, who wanted to get home for the holidays as much as he wanted to.

An elderly woman turns to him with a small smile, “Got your wife waiting for you back at home, son?”

“Oh, not my wife yet,” Esteban chuckled softly, his heart softening from the thought of you, “Still my girlfriend.”

“Are you planning to propose soon?” She questioned, “I hope you don’t mind me being a chatterbox.”

Nodding in response, Esteban smiled, “Definitely, she’s just…everything I’ve dreamed of.”

Patting the Frenchman’s shoulder, she replied, “Wishing the absolute best for the two of you.”

Esteban expressed his thanks before turning to stare out the window, snow hindering the visibility of the car to be at a normal speed. He fumbled with the charm that had your initial on his bracelet, wanting to hold you in his arms as soon as he can.

Back at home, you were wide awake. Esteban’s call woke you up at nearly 4 am, and you haven’t gotten any sleep since then. It’s nearly the end of the day, the moon starting to show up.

“Hey, love. I haven’t heard from you since the morning,” You said through the phone, twisting the promise ring on your finger, “I hope you’re safe. I just…I really hope you’ll be home soon.”

Sighing as you put the phone down, you set the food that you prepared on the table – despite the possible fact that Esteban not make it in time for you to welcome Christmas together.

Hearing your phone chime, you immediately grabbed it, only to feel disappointed that it wasn’t from Esteban.

Unknown Number: Happy Holidays! Your package with the tracking number of CSEN21HD8 will be attempted to be delivered today.

Upon reading the message, you frowned in confusion, you didn’t order anything that could possibly arrive at a time like this. In fact, you wondered as to whether or not this could be a faulty package.

Before your thoughts could further wander off, a knock on the door cut them off and you walked to see who it was through the peephole.

You opened the door slightly and frowned, mumbling to yourself, “There’s…no one there.”

Esteban peeked from the side and smiled, “You sure about that?”

“You’re home!” You exclaimed, opening the door wider to pull him in the tightest hug, “Oh, I’ve been worried sick. You didn’t respond to any of my voicemails!”

Esteban chuckled softly, wrapping his arm around you as he closed the door behind the two of you, “Awful reception, but I’m here now.”

“I’m glad you’re home in one piece,” You pulled away to kiss him on the cheek, dragging him to the dining room, “You must be hungry, do you need me to turn up the heater? You want to change clothes?”

“Darling, calm down, I’m alright,” He smiled, looking at you endearingly, “In fact, I have one thing I need to do.”

Humming as you went over to the switch to turn the heat up, “Yeah, what is- oh my god, Esteban.”

Esteban looked at you with a smile while he was down on one knee, a red velvet box in his hands, “Y/N, darling, I honestly don’t know where to begin. All I know is that you’re my person – and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You had tears in your eyes, looking at your longtime boyfriend in awe, “Esteban…I’m.”

“I gave you that promise ring sitting on your finger right now to signify my never-ending love for you,” He continued on, “And now I want to give you this ring…what I’m trying to say is, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Nodding eagerly, you smiled brightly with a few tears falling down your cheeks, “A million times yes.”

Letting out a deep breath, Esteban stood up and held your hand, carefully slipping the ring on your finger and kissing it, “Merry Christmas, darling.”

You hugged him tightly, resting your chin on his chest with a smile brighter than the stars that sat on the sky, “Merry Christmas, love.”

#sainzfilm’s winter wonderland #esteban ocon #esteban ocon x reader #esteban ocon imagine #esteban ocon fanfic #esteban ocon fic #esteban ocon drabble #esteban ocon blurb #esteban ocon fluff #esteban ocon oneshot #eo31 #oco31 #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 driver x reader #fluff #f1 edit #f1 imagine #formula one #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader

[inbetweenhours]

My gift for @tev-the-random for the @mcytblrholidayexchange :D  This has a  a wip attached as you can see, it was my first draft of your prompt before I settled on the finished design above :] There is a written component I added because I wasn’t sure how to match your prompt well with just art aha.  You had a lot of options and variety :] Also uh, if it wasn't clear this is based on the finale of Season 1 so yknow :v:

[ID: Image 1 is a digital drawing of Empires SMP season 1 Roseblings sat together riding the back of a white dragon high in the clouds. Gem is in front, a tense expression on her face. A baby ender dragon, Violet, is in her lap. Fwhip is sat behind her, looking conflicted down.

Image 2 is a screenshot of the gates of The Crystal Cliffs. Its opacity is low and over it Gem and Fwhip are sketched. gem is closer to the foreground, staring is horror with a purple  barrier of magic above her, protecting her from falling rubble. Violet, a baby ender dragon, is in her arms. In the background Fwhip leans against the gate opening, mask drawn over his mouth.]

The sound was the first thing to reach them. A mighty boom ripping through the air as a warning for what was to come. For many seconds the people of the Crystal Cliffs paused, curious of their neighbours' practices, and turned back to their days. High Wizard Geminitay did much the same as any other citizen. Looking up out the high window of her tower and squinting at the horizon line to the north. Wondering absentminded what trouble her brother has gotten into. She huffed, rolling her eyes and turning away from the darkening skyline back towards her deskwork.

Only moments later she look up to the sound of screams below, and is blown off her chair by the force of her window shattering.

Scrambling to roll behind her desk does little to shield her. Eyes wide and brows furrowed, she watches as her paperwork is blown awry. The Crystal Cliffs are usually safe, even with such explosive neighbours. The Grimlands have never been a threat. She scrambles for her staff, hiking up her skirt with a free hand as she sprints down the stairs of her tower. She pauses when she can, muttering incantation after incantation for protection as the building shakes around her. Tall buildings don’t do well with Grimlands-brand disaster.  She needs to get to low ground, fast.

As she breaches the landing of her home, throwing the doors open, she immediately regrets it. Gasping and swinging her staff in wide strokes to sweep an arcana barrier before her. A chunk of debris shatters on impact, throwing her backwards with the weight, but luckily without injury.

She pushes onward to the steps overlooking the Cliffs, and feels her breath cut short as she does.

Masses of debris are raining through the city. Every man, woman, and child running for their lives, wands raised and luck held close to their chests. A mass of roof disrupts Gems' view, nearly crashing into a student she had seen only days prior. She feels a sickening sense of pride with the speed at which their wand flies up to protect them. 

Then she looks up, gut swirling with dread as she finally takes in the distance. Nauseous black smog rippled over the forest. Grimlands is obscured completely from view, not a roof or wall in sight. It draws something hard to grip her throat.

Her parents are over there. Her brother, and their childhood home. Their parents forge where they played as children. Where Fwhip once burnt his hand and where he first trusted her to cast a spell on him. Not as a prank, but to help. The streets they used to run through, sparklers in hand in celebration of their country’s founding.

The Crystal Cliffs are Gems pride and joy, where she learned and thrived and made something of herself. But The Grimlands was her home. And not a single piece of it can be seen through the smog.  

She blinks, taking a shuddering breath and turning towards her own empire. Her heels click dangerously as she sprints, avoiding debris with light steps and a strong barrier spell over her head. She shouts encouragement to students and citizens alike, corralling them in groups to protect one another. They call to her for guidance.

 “Get to the academy”, she advises in return, authoritative and knowing in all the ways a mentor must be. “It has a lot of room, and together your spells may keep you safe!”

“What about you!” A young girl calls, her braids all twisted up. A new student calls out to her, from Gilded Helianthia if the tan complexion and sunflower embroidered skirt are any indication. Oh how far from home she is.

“I’m your headmaster, I will be fine.” She smiles as honestly as she can. The student nods shakily, and is ushered away by her upperclassmen and the young man that runs the crystal shop.

Gem turns her gaze just slightly to the caved in remains of a roof and various shards near her heels, and winces. Perhaps ran the crystal shop is a more apt description.  

She doesn’t dwell on it much longer, no time for such things. Making a sharp turn for the dragon stables as another chunk of debris disrupts the stone pathways. There's a cry from nearby as it makes contact with the street and Gem tears her eyes away as she spots blood seeping through the cracks of the pathway. 

Gem has never been one for worship, growing up Alatristic. She still refuses to give herself to any god, even seeing the purple of her academy’s uniform peeking from beneath the debris. 

It’s many steps past the atrocity that she succumbs with a heavy heart, and hopes that The Copper King and his vigil is watching.

She hardens her gaze as she meets the stables, beckoning one of the three grand white dragons from their perches with care. They’re curious about the calamity outside, she sees it in their eyes. Violet seems less enthralled and more afraid, half flying from where she had been curled up alongside one of the greater beasts.

“Awe, Violet— come here!” Gem coos, wrapping the hatchling up in her caplet carefully. She flinches, curling over the baby as a crash hits close outside. She hardens her expression, grappling for the mighty white dragon's muzzle and leading it out.

She watches over her kingdom for a long moment, and considers her choice. Citizens running for cover, clammering up the steps of the academy in the distance. She should go to them. They need guidance, they need someone to tell them it will be okay and lead them through these dark spots in the Cliffs' history. That would be the right thing to do, as their leader, as their mentor.

Gem whistles, sprinting towards the gates of the city, away from her people. The great white dragon flying overhead with her call. She points clamouring citizens in the right direction, even as she pushes past them.

And there, at the gate of her empire, Gem feels the air leave her lungs.

Count Fwhip stands, leaned against the walls of the gate, goggles cracked and scarf drawn over his mouth as he coughs. Gem can’t find it in herself to care that he is coated in soot as she runs towards him. She grapples his arms, and drags him away from his post. He stumbles in her hold, coughing  up a storm of soot and smog.

“You’re okay— you’re alive—” Gem stumbles over her word, pulling her brother haphazardly along. “Are you  insane? Of course you're insane— come along quick!”  She rambles scoldingly.

Fwhip manages a wry chuckle, before dissolving into hacking again. “Ah— Gem, my legs hurt. Just— just give me a second—”

“At least you have legs,” She hisses, pulling her brother along despite his stumbling feet and protests. She keeps her eyes up and ahead as she navigates, watching for the great white beast above as it circles, high above the peak of the debris. “Do you have any idea what’s happened? We need to go— now.”

“It wasn’t— it wasn’t meant to explode. I don’t know why it exploded—” Fwhip rambles, wincing as his heels are clipped by pebbles. The shaking of the earth throws him off balance and Gem barely grapples his arm before he hits the fractured rocks beneath them.

The look Fwhip gives her when he looks up solidifies something in her. The desperate shaken smile as he continues to ramble. Incoherent and wild eyed, and she knows this is his fault. This isn’t any random malfunction from any odd project. This was her brother.

Her lips pressed together, and she can see his expression waver, his excuses dwindling as yet another crash echoes amongst the screams. He whips up to look in its direction. Whatever he sees drains any colour left in his skin. Gem doesn’t follow his gaze, keeping her eyes on him as she realises what exactly she is feeling.

Disappointment.

Her lips tremble as she thinks it, and she knows maybe she is also frustrated. Staring down at her brother, who she loves and who she will choose again and again, over and over. Who she will defend the behaviour of to anyone— from Guardian Katherine to The Codfather. Who she has stood by through trial and tribulation, war and alliance. Nothing has made her turn her back on him.

And this is what she gets. An accident that shatters her country, her responsibility. That finally puts her in the crossfire. Maybe it’s karma, for never holding Fwhip back. When he rains explosives upon their enemies, tearing riffs in the land and biting enough to match his bark. 

She remembers something The Copper King had once said to her, at the tail end of a negotiations meeting between their allies. They have a saying in Pixandria, “To hold the fire is  noble, but beware of its burn”. It is meant to warn the countless watchers of the vigil not to burn themselves lighting candles and lanterns, to be careful handling the flames. It has evolved to mean that when handling something dangerous, put yourself before others. Choosing to guard a fire is good, to watch it so it does not get out of hand. But to stand so close to something so dangerous means you will be burned eventually.

Gem had brushed the King off as cordially as she could at the time. She has her own sayings, ones of loyalty and eternity and entirely unconnected from the gods.

She wonders if she had listened at the time if she would still be here in this mess, choosing between her country and her brother. She wonders if it would have changed her choice at all.

It doesn’t now, even if she knows better.

She grabs Fwhip’s shoulder, not speaking as he winces, and draws out her staff. She looks up, hoping that the sky does not crush them in the moments she needs to let down her  protective spell. She draws around them sigils on the ground, and thanks all she knows that Fwhip has given up on speaking. 

Moments later they alight into purple wisps, and find themselves unsteady on the back of the great flying white dragon. Fwhip nearly tumbles off before Gem drags him back by his scarf.

“Thanks,” Fwhip mutters, spitting some remnant of soot from his mouth into the sky below. Gem grimaces, sitting in front of him and looking down over her people.

“Hold on tight,” is all she says, tucking her chin over Violet as she curls up around her neck.

They don’t speak after that. 

Fwhip tried. Asked where they were going, asked what the plan was. Gem didn’t know. For once she didn’t want to be the one with the plan, and didn't want to clean up everyone else's mess.

“Away,” is all she said. Maybe it was her tone, or the dry closed off choke of her throat that gave it away, but Fwhip stayed quiet after that. Barely dared to breathe or cough as they soared away.

Away from their homes, and their responsibilities. From their friends, whatever may have remained of their family. Gem thinks to herself, amongst the expanse of clouds, if her people will be alright. She gave them direction, they are strong together. They will elect a new headmaster soon enough. They surely saw her leave.

Saw her abandon them.

She doesn’t bother asking if there's anything left of Grimlands. Too afraid if she opens her mouth it will only spit anger. She’ll get over it. She knew she would the second she made her choice.

Fwhip is her brother. She would die for him and she knows he would just as easily do the same. She has never claimed to be a selfless person, and she refuses to have guilt for choosing Fwhip over her students. She always would, and they would be fools to think otherwise.

That doesn’t mean she can’t be angry. Can’t be disappointed with the efforts of her defence returned so cruelly. The accidental nature makes it only worse. One day she will let Fwhip explain himself. And maybe that will make it better. Maybe it won’t.

For now she grits her teeth and stares into the blue expanse ahead, Violet in her lap and her brother at her side. She moves forward.

#mcytwinterholidayexchange #empires smp #empires smp 1 #geminitay #roseblings #fwhip #art #fanart #fic #fanfic #kinda #empires season 1 finale spoilers #hourspost #hoursart #hoursfic #cant believe i forgot my own tags lmao #id

[rogueportraits]

The idea of running away to join the carnival is something quaintly historical with a dash of romanticism. Midway Touring Entertainment gets a few kids every stop that slip away from their parents and beg some ride attendant or performer to join up and tour the country. They’ve got childhood ideas about riding the attractions after dark or petting tamed lions – this particular carnival’s an animal-free establishment, excepting personal pets – and cry buckets when refused.

Ed’s of the personal belief that they should just take the kids along for a day or two, show them the real behind-the-scenes, and scare little middle-class Jimmy or Susie right back into a fine life of some white-collar office job two decades down the line. Unfortunately, that’s generally considered kidnapping, and MTE would highly prefer the law stay as far away as possible. He picks at a particularly stalwart hangnail and kicks his foot up on the dashboard. They’re about three hours out of Minot, having gotten the state fair contract another year in a row, and the only thing he likes about North Dakota is that the summer’s cool enough that he won’t be swimming in sweat. To the left of him, Jack starts grumbling and lifts his hand off the wheel.

“Can’t see with your shoes in the way, kid,” Jack makes a shooing motion. “You want an airbag through your knee?”

Ed’s eighteen years old, thank you very much, and his ID says he’s the ripe old age of twenty-one, so in either respect he’s not a kid. Unfortunate facial acne notwithstanding. He bites at his hangnail, rolls the window down, and spits it out into empty interstate air as he swings his leg back down. There’s the rustling of discarded fast-food wrappers against his shoes. “You threatening me?”

“Not anymore.”

Jack fiddles with the busted radio, tuning it to some local FM station playing this summer’s insipid pop hit. The highway stretches out in front of them, heat miraging strange shapes on the horizon. Ed can see the fractured reflections of their convoy in the right rear-view mirror, other cars and trailers and hauling trucks snaking away into the clear sky. He’ll be expected to help with set-up tonight, obviously, and tomorrow too. Probably some painting as well, considering the state of a few attractions. Then a week of his own particular schtick on the midway, a few days of teardowns, and back on the road to do it all over again. He digs in the car door for a lukewarm pop and twists off the cap, proffering it as driver’s tribute.

“You’re alright, kid,” Jack says, like they haven’t been working together since Ed was sixteen and gangly. He sips at it and blanches. “This isn’t.”

“I’ll go stick my neck into the gas station fridge next time,” Ed replies with a shrug. “Nothing but the best for my dear old driver.”

Jack tips the bottle up in a pastiche of enjoyment, snorting, and returns his eyes to the road.

The moon’s centered in the sky by the time Ed’s gotten through his set-up checklist. He’d scrambled up and over various half-assembled rides, checking bolts and greasing mechanisms – can’t have a lawsuit on their hands – and put off some of the detail work for when there’s sunlight. Playing passenger has its drawbacks, but the less cops that get a look at “Edward Neilsen’s” ID card the better. Not that he’s a bad driver, of course.

Ed belongs to the other class of wannabe carnival runaways. He opens the trailer door without the hinges squeaking. It’s not his trailer, because his paydays would have to have at least one more zero on their totals for anything like that, but Jack and his wife have a secondhand couch that suits him just fine. He sprawls across it in a show of exhausted decadence. Pale moonlight lances through a smoke-clouded window, cutting across his torso.

He’s not enough of an idiot to call this a charmed life, like some of the last generation of carnies. It’s work, and it’s a type of work that means he doesn’t stick in one place long enough to make an impression – all the better, logically. There’s more than a few people who’d like to find him for various reasons. Carnie work pays, it doesn’t ask questions about his age or point of origin, and the rest of this traveling group of vagabonds generally doesn’t try to deck him for a smart comment or three. That’s good enough for him. Ed rolls off the couch and pads over to the minifridge, acquiring a can of Pabst. Drinking after work and underage are two time-honored American traditions, after all. He pops the top of the can with a gas-leak hiss and heads back outside.

The night air is cold against his clammy skin. He sips at his beer and stares out towards the flickering lights of town.

Ed can do carnival patter in his sleep. He leans on his prop cane, discreetly stretching out his numb leg, and surveys the midway tourists.

“Step right up! Tired of testing your skill – test mine! Age, weight, height, profession, I’ll get 'em all… and if I don’t, you score!”

The main difficulty with being a carnival guesser is attracting marks. Ed’s stationed himself at the far end of the midway, after all the various citizenry of North Dakota have exhausted their efforts at games-of-skill. He offers them a chance to watch someone else fail. In theory, at least – he’s very good at this gig. He makes eye contact with a tired father-of-two and grins, stepping to the front of his booth.

“How about you? Care to see if you can stump me?”

And there’s the flicker of light in the other man’s eyes. Easy.

“Sure. Do you, ah, do all of them?”

Sensitive about his weight, then. Maybe the guy could afford to cut back on the funnel cake in that case, but heavens (and his paycheck) forbid Ed offer that advice. “Not at all. Your pick, and if I could take a ticket…?”

The man bites at the edge of his lip, tearing off a ticket from what probably used to be a much larger roll. “Age and job, then?”

“Of course.” Ed makes a grand show of scrutinizing, leaning forward and worrying his hands on the question-mark crook of his cane. Two kids, one about eight and the other being carried, no wife and – hah! – no wedding ring. Shirt with an atrocious tropical print, but a pager in his back pocket. Easy. “About thirty-three and in office work, right? Management?”

The man gapes, then rallies. “Thirty-five. But, uh, yeah.”

Really, Ed would have guessed thirty-six, but he’s had to duck one too many swings from daydrunk locals mad about his accuracy. He shoots the man a hundred-watt smile.

“I can’t believe it! I can’t take a peek at your ID, can I?”

Flush on winning, the man obliges by handing over his wallet. Jason Phillips, resident of Velva, ND. Thirty-five. Ed considers some legerdemain and decides against it – Jason’s clearly not been availing himself of the concession-center beer.

“Well, my loss is your gain,” reach back, grab some cheap prize in the form of a plush owl-thing, present it with a theatrical bow, he’s done it a thousand times this season, “and thank you for playing!”

The man meanders off. Ed debates the merits of putting his head in the gears of the carnival’s tilt-a-whirl. Minot is as boring as every other state fair. He gets the next player’s – some giggling college co-ed that looks at him like used gum – weight right. Hard not to with a leeway of five pounds on either side, and a scale that runs two pounds lighter. She’d probably laugh less if she knew her wallet were about ten bucks lighter as well.

He doesn’t consider his side hustle stealing, necessarily. If someone’s dumb enough to hand over their wallet to a carnie and look away, they don’t deserve spare cash.

Anyways, if it were up to him, he wouldn’t be stuck at the ass-end of the midway playing guessing games. He’d have a bigger booth with a better locale, and he’d do riddles. Maybe some lighting, too – he’s always been partial to green. He swigs from his water bottle and watches the ebb and flow of the crowd. He’d do riddles. There’s an art to them that there isn’t to his current gig. A good riddle has one clear answer, but with enough creativity one or two more can crop up. A good riddle has nice, defined boundaries, but doesn’t care about what you do inside of them. It’d take more tickets, too, because if there’s one thing the past two years and change have taught him it’s that people are brainless idiots who can’t see the truth even if it’s spelled out in flashing lights. Which suits him just fine.

Ed coughs slightly, testing to see if his voice holds, and steps forward to start up his patter once again.

#» writing #» riddler › headcanons

[naiamaree]

Im very grateful to see the art that you share ,i think you talked about making a neocities i honestly think thats the ideal option at this point,there doesnt seem to be a way to not be negatively affected when posting art on socialmedia.....

Thank you for talking about art and sharing what you make its impactful and feels like a reminder to me i am really happy to see it...... I don't know if you have a neocities blog or not right now but if you do i would love to see it..

Have a lovely day regardless take care Stay safe 💗🌱☀️

A little about this while I feel like writing something. Many alt web people probably know about Yesterweb closing recently and on Sadness' main website in her new manifesto she makes a very good point: because of its social features (followers and following back, which is prominently displayed on profile + view counter which is shoved in your face even on dashboard screen); neocities is pretty much social media too. now luckily anyone with basic css knowledge can either find or make a user end script to hide all of that shit (in fact mothershipreconnection made one that i will link to this post later in a reblog); but it should still be considered about what kind of thinking is going into the ethics behind something like neocities with those types of features. is it an improvement over other options? yes. do I think it is a definitive answer to the crisis artists and creatives are currently facing in net space? no. and unfortunately im not the person with a magic answer. in fact before January this yr i couldnt code even the simplest webpage. but if i have gotten anything out of my LEARNING to code (i have gotten many things from it actually) it would be the awareness that anyone can make progress into new creative/ethics territory w their art just by thinking on these issues and having a basic application skillset its tricky because i dont necessarily think gemini protocol is the right answer either. its easy in theory to say that tearing down the framework and making a new one is the most direct solution but realistically outside of country-locked net space we are probably on THIS web for the foreseeable future. the other thing that stood out to me from the yesterweb debacle however was the concept that people operating under a directive are always going to be more effective at creating counterculture then people who see movements as badges of honor or something. i think that progress against the current dilution and domination of the web + creatives can be counteracted but it will take individual organization and action and small but concrete ethos/pathos.. if anyone has more thoughts on this please submit them via an ask id love to talk about it but i dont check tags or notifs i only check the asks

#say no to web 3 #neocities #ask

[speckostardust]

@heropartnerweek Day 6 - Alone

A kind of prologue to a story I’m writing. It’s pretty long, and also made my beta reader cry a little at points. Have fun!

(Lore note before we start! When you aren’t particularly close to a Pokémon, you call them by their species name. It’s kind of like calling people by their last name in east asian countries or calling someone Mr., Ms., or Mx., but everybody already knows their last name.)

(also I guess this is kind of four stories but shhhh.)

His Brother Is Here For Him

Caterpie knew it was one of those days. Just by the way Charles, the town's resident hero, walked through the center. 

He knew by the way the Charmeleon's shoulders sagged, how his gaze was a couple degrees lower than normal, how his scarf was tied off-center, how his mouth wasn’t smiling or frowning, stuck in neutral, how the flame on his tail was dimmer, how it was a shade of red instead of a bright orange, bordering on white, like how it was before, how he could clearly see the blue-tipped tail his family was known for through the flame.

And worst of all, how his eyes were devoid of that clear and powerful determination Caterpie came to associate with him. 

As Charles passed by the bank, he saw Charizard, the one from Team ACT (Charles’ brother, Caterpie reminds himself), notice the depressed lizard going by, and turns to him, eyes full of concern. Caterpie doesn’t want to intrude on their conversation, but he’s too close to the salamander brothers he can't help but overhear.

“Hey, Charles, you doing alright today?” Charizard asks his brother, his deep baritone voice shining with worry. 

“I’m fine, Seymour,” Charles replies way too fast. “I’m just… going to get some work.”

“It’s okay to not be fine, Charles.” The Charizard slowly reaches out to him with one hand, the other on his chest. “You can tell me these things. I love you, you know.”

The smallest, faintest of smiles crosses the Charmeleon’s snout. “I know. I do too.”

Charizard’s grin grows. “C’mon, say it back.”

Charles’ smile grows just a bit more. “Love you too.”

Grinning even wider (Caterpie doesn’t know how he smiles so wide, it’s pretty much his entire face), Charizard takes his brother into an embrace, which the shorter one accepts and hugs back. 

Letting go of the Charmeleon, Charizard pats him on the shoulder. “Hey, why don’t we go out on a job together today? Just me and you. No Ashford, no Sadie.”

The two are silent for a second. “I’d like that,” Charles says after a second.

The two of them start walking towards the post office again, Charizard bidding farewell to his usual teammates. “It’ll be just like old times! Like when we were still kids and playing Rescue Team in the street!”

“Yeah,” Charles says, a smile actually appearing on his face.

“Whoah, don’t get too excited now! We’ve still got a job to do!” Charizard says, laughing as the two get further down the road, out of Caterpie’s hearing range. 

Caterpie knows what happened. He knows that Charles’ partner Sam, the Psy-Raichu that used to be a human, mysteriously disappeared one day, and how he couldn’t stop thinking about it some days, like today. But Caterpie sincerely hopes that he knows there are other people that care about him too.

---------

His Daughter Is Here For Him

(TW: copious drinking, alcoholism as an escape)

Spinda was very concerned by one of his customers today.

The Grovyle had come in right at opening time, 1:30 in the afternoon, and claimed a table by himself near the corner, but close enough to the bar. He had ordered a Grass Gummy “Juice” (yes it is in quotations, Spinda knows what it is, everyone who orders it does, it’s on the secret menu) and Spinda couldn’t even get a word out before the Grovyle’s ID was out and shown to him. Of course, it was just a formality, as Spinda had known Grovyle would come in with his partner, a Riolu, often. But this was the first time he had gotten a good look at his ID, and he knew his name was Jax now. 

He had always, and Spinda means always, come in with his partner Riolu before. He had never seen the two apart, even in the mornings outside of the bar. 

It was past closing now, 2:26 in the morning, and the Grovyle (Jax, Spinda reminds himself) had now had over ten servings of “Juice” (way more than he’s ever had before, Spinda notes), and had his head down on the table, his entire body shaking, the occasional sob loud enough to be heard.

Spinda cleared and cleaned the tables starting at the farthest away from Jax, not wanting to kick out the miserable looking Pokémon, while Wobbuffet and Wynaut cleaned up their recycling service. Eventually though, Spinda had cleaned all the tables except for one, arriving at the Grovyle’s table at exactly 2:41:24.

He looked down at the sobbing Pokémon. Gently, he placed his paw on his shoulder. “Hey buddy,” he says softly, but still loud enough so he knows the Grovyle can hear him. “We’re closed. Ya gotta go home now.”

With a sniffle, the Grovyle picks up his head, and nods. His eyes are bloodshot from crying, and tears stain his cheeks. “M’kay.”

As he attempts to stand, his legs start to wobble uncontrollably. His chair, already pushed out from under him, does nothing to keep him from falling to the floor. 

Quickly dropping down to help him up, Spinda wraps his arm around his own neck, helping the man to his feet. “Y’alright, Grovyle?”

The sobbings from the reptile grow louder. “I’m sorry,” he says between sobs. “I’m… I’m useless, I can’t do anything right.”

Spinda starts to tear up himself, listening to Jax’s self-deprecating words, unable to say anything. He helps him get to the door, while Jax continues apologizing.

“I-I-I don’t know why N l-l-left,” the Grovyle says. “H-h-he just disappeared, and, and, he left his stuff, and, and I hope he’s okay, he would never leave me alone on purpose, something must've happened, he wouldn't leave, but I’m, I’m too stupid to know what happen…”

Spinda keeps his mouth shut. He didn’t know what to say, he was never good in situations like this. 

"I-I-I wish I w-w-w-was…" Jax breaks out in loud sobs, openly weeping as they emerge at the crossroads.

"Dad!" a shout calls. Running from Treasure Town's entrance is a small blue Pokémon, about as tall as Spinda himself, with feelers on their head and a watery look to them. In all his years, Spinda's never even seen a Pokémon like this. "I'm so sorry, I'm Manaphy, this is my dad, I'm really sorry you had to carry him, I can take him here, I'm really sorry," they say hurriedly, all in one breath.

"It's quite alright," Spinda says as Manaphy slips under Jax’s other arm. "I was planning to carry him to wherever he needed to be. It's no problem."

Manaphy attempts to bow, but with her father on her shoulder, she finds it difficult. "Thank you so much for taking him out here. Umm… goodbye, I guess. Thanks."

Spinda watches as the father-child duo walk away towards Treasure Town. He hopes that Jax knows that he has people that care about him. 

He also hopes that he doesn't come back until he can control his drinking problem.

---------

Her Friend Is Here For Her

Quagsire was heartbroken over the entire thing. He loved watching Toki and Nara walking past his little booth everyday, going out for jobs. The Tepig and Oshawott were always talking, hmm? Well, it was more like Toki was talking to Nara, and Nara added something in occasionally. It was charming.

Then the split happened. Well, that’s what Quagsire was calling it. Catchy, hmm? It was when Toki had suddenly disappeared one morning, with no witnesses seeing her leave. Nor had she told anyone she was going anywhere. Nor had she brought any of her supplies with her. It was very strange, mmm, for Toki to leave Nara and the Paradise so suddenly like that. Was she carried off into the night by some kind of mysterious force, that may or may not even be a Pokémon itself?

Mmm, speculation, Quagsire thinks.

The Oshawott herself walks by Quagsire’s assembly, dragging her feet through the dirt. Nara’s eyes were dead to the outside world, and she was mumbling something to herself.

“Nara!” he calls out. “Nara dear! Could you come over here for a moment?”

After a moment, Nara turns towards Quagsire. She waddles over to him. “Mm,” she mumbles. Quagsire’s plan step one complete.

“Nara, would you, hmm, come with me for the day? I’m sure you could skip work for the day.” Nara looks at Quagsire, and he looks back at the absence of light in them. “Please?” he adds.

Almost reluctantly, Oshawott slowly nods her head. Taking the confirmation, Quagsire steps out of the doorway of his tent and gestures for Nara to go in. She does so slowly, and Quagsire follows her in, letting the door flap down. Quagsire plan step two complete.

Time to get the girl to talk, hmm?

“Take a seat, mmm, on the couch, would you?” he says, sitting on the adjacent chair. 

A moment passes in silence, as Nara sits. “What’re… you doing?”

“I am, mm, simply here for you to talk to. Vent. Feel free to talk about anything on your mind. I am a great listener, hmm?”

Quagsire’s plan step three, get Nara to do therapy, in progress.

Nara stares at him blankly.

Seconds pass, mmm, and then minutes.

“I miss her,” she finally says, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “I really, really miss Toki. She was my best friend ever, but then she disappeared.”

Quagsire watches on, waiting for the Oshawott to continue.

“I just…” she stops for another pause, putting her thoughts into words. “I don’t know why she left. Why? Why did she leave?”

Another pause, hmm, as Quagsire waits again.

“I am… I’ll… I’ve searched the entire continent, just looking for her.” She puts her head in her paws. “And there’s nothing. No trace of her. Like she just… disappeared off the planet, like after we stopped the Bittercold.”

She pauses again. 

“I just…” the tears start to leak from her eyes. “I really miss her.”

The little Oshawott breaks into uncontrolled sobs, finally letting out all the built up emotions. She lays back into the small couch as Quagsire walks over to hug her.

Hmmm, new Quagsire plan step four: get Nara an actual therapist.

---------

His Father Is Here For Him

(TW: self harm, cutting, mental breakdowns, self-deprecation, suicidal ideation)

Nuzleaf knows his adopted son was always quiet. It was just his personality. He very rarely spoke over twenty words in a day, never any more than three words at a time. He had preferred to speak in sign language, though he was never the best at it. But when Champ stopped communicating completely, Nuzleaf noticed.

Champ’s best friend and Expedition Team partner, a Piplup named Fin, had strangely disappeared about a month ago. After days of searching (and skipping school, but Nuzleaf doesn’t really care for that) and no progress, the Chespin had all but locked himself in his room. He only left to eat, only a couple berries at a time, and spent his time curled up in a ball on his bed, crying. 

So many of his other friends from school came by to try and talk to him. Even the members of the Expedition Society came to Nuzleaf’s front door.

Still, Champ hadn’t spoken, or signed, or even reacted to their presence. 

It was late at night when Nuzleaf heard it. He had woken up to get some water. But when he got to the kitchen itself…

He heard a quiet, but intense sobbing coming from Champ’s room.

He quickly made his way to the room, as silently as he could, and peered in. Sitting on his bed was the Chespin, a half-eaten oran berry next to him, slouched down and facing away from the door, but still tilted towards it so Nuzleaf could see his face, with a harvesting knife in his right hand and his left arm decorated with varying levels of cuts.

Nuzleaf, startled, inhales sharply, and his adoptive son hears it, snapping his head in Nuzleaf’s direction. Champ, also startled, hastily throws the knife into his bag, and hides his wounded arm behind his back, picking the oran berry up with his other. Tears leak from his eyes as he trembles, seemingly terrified that Nuzleaf found him doing this.

Nuzleaf takes a tentative step towards his son. Champ flinches, the grassy quills on his head shaking. “I’m… not mad,” Nuzleaf says tentatively. “I’m not angry… I’m not… I just want to know why. I just want to understand.”

The Chespin, still trembling, slowly raises both of his hands, dropping the oran berry. Nuzleaf can clearly see the cuts on the boy’s arm. Oh Arceus, he thinks, none of that was there this morning, has he been healing his cuts everyday with oran berries? All the scars on his arms, he assumed they came from his adventuring, are they from this?

I, Champ starts, but pauses, thinking of his next words, cut myself. He flinches, physically startled by his own silent words. I… if I can’t keep one friend, one person close to me, just… He signs so fast that Nuzleaf can’t keep up with it, then he throws his hands to his sides. He picks them back up and starts to sign again. I don’t deserve to be happy. I should be by myself. Alone. Like how I should be.

Nuzleaf can feel the tears on his cheeks. Slowly he makes his way to the broken child. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry Champ. Ya shouldn’t be feeling like this. Nobody should. You’ve saved so many people, you have so many friends. Yer friend, I’m sure, is just missing, and she wants to come back, I know it. Both of you know each other almost if not as well as you know yerselves. You are… You are worth it. You are worth caring for, worrying for, crying for. You are not a burden. People care about you and worry for you because they want to, because you make them happy. You are not alone.”

Champ tears up, swinging his arms around his father and bawling into his chest. He makes some attempts at speaking, but Nuzleaf pats his back, letting him know it’s okay for him to not speak right now.

The two stay in their embrace until the sun threatens to come in through the window. Nuzleaf is the first to stand up.

“Let’s go get those cuts healed, Champ,” he says, taking his son’s hand. Champ shakily nods as he uses Nuzleaf to stand. “We should… probably get you a professional therapist too, huh?”

Hesitantly, Champ nods, taking the first step on a new journey.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon #pokemon super mystery dungeon #hero partner week #pmd explorers #pmd gates #pmd rescue team

[tommstic]

Being trans in the south

Hey all! I’ve finally accepted myself, and I think that now is a perfect time to share my story. This post will contain transphobic language, descriptions of dysphoria, and other possibly triggering things. I think it’s important to read just to get a look into the life of a trans kid in the south, but if it makes you uncomfortable, please skip if you need!

I live in the southern area of the USA. It’s not really a secret, I talk about my state and the whether pretty often so it’s not like I’m trying to hide who I am. Because of that, I feel comfortable sharing this story with some more personal details.

I live in South Carolina. The state is no stranger to anti-lgbtq+ corruption in the local government and in the citizens. SC is one of the states which has currently banned LGBTQ+ topics to be taught under the umbrella of sex ed. With this info, you can probably infer what life as an lgbtq+ teen is like in the dead centre of a red state.

I realised I was trans during late 2019 - early 2020 (my memory is fuzzy due to unrelated matters, so sorry if the timeline feels fuzzy sometimes). I decided to identify as bigender at the time. I only came out to my close friends, and that was after months of being scared they wouldn’t accept me. Of course, they accepted me, being lgbtq+ themselves.

Later on, somehow, word began to spread that I was trans and people at school began to ask me questions about it. It was scary. I remember being so anxious every time someone would come up and talk to me during that time because I was afraid they would harass, hurt, or judge me because of my identity. And naturally, whenever someone would ask, I would tell them I wasn’t trans and they’d heard wrong. It felt weird to act like I was “the victim of gossip” when in reality it was true. I was trans, but I wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Time passes, blah blah, unimportant nonsense. Nothing really significant to my identity happens, I still identified as bigender. I was trying to accept myself more by being more public with my identity. I wanted to believe that the south wasn’t as hateful as the media portrayed it, so I was public about my identity online and would tell people I was trans if they asked. My first instance of experiencing genuine transphobia was when I was banned from my friend’s house by their dad due to me being trans.

I felt so sick that night and I cried so so much- I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that my identity had gotten me banned from seeing them again. I felt like I was the problem.

Then I entered my freshman year. I started wearing pins on my ID because I wanted to try again. Plus, I assumed that if I was in a public space I’d be safe. I wasn’t entirely wrong, but in some instances it didn’t exactly work out.

There were certain classes where I took off my trans pin from my ID. Mostly classes overrun by country kids and openly trans/homophobic people. I would put the pin in a small pocket in my bag and wear my ID as normal.

One day I did the same as usual, putting my pin away, and I noticed this kid looking at me weird. We leave the classroom and when we come back to pack up I check my bag and the zipper is opened and the pin is gone. Now I’m not completely sure it was him, but someone stole my pin and I know it wasn’t out of jealousy. There was a sticky note with a shitty cross drawn onto it. Losing the pin sucked, especially considering the motive, but it was the least of my problems.

People from my school would occasionally send me DMs via Instagram telling me I need God and how I’m disgusting. I was even threatened a few times, which was sadly no surprise. I’ve always prided myself on not taking cyber bullying seriously when it’s aimed towards me. I don’t typically let it affect me. But when you’re already surrounded by an environment that seems to absolutely hate you, having your online spaces being invaded the same way hurts like hell.

During the same class I mentioned earlier, I was called slurs both to my face and behind my back. Two kids were talking saying that “the class had been ruined by the tr*nnies,” while nodding in my direction. Another kid had asked me straight up if I was a tr*nnie.

It was around this time that I felt like giving up on my identity. I still felt sick looking in the mirror and looking at my body. I still hated everything remotely feminine about myself. I still hated being a girl but I decided that it was just easier to suppress my identity and go back to being “normal.”

In other words, being told that Id never be a real man was the straw that broke the camels back.

I still mentioned being trans in passing when I was talking with my friends, but generally I kept it a secret. During this time, I began to feel even worse about myself. I considered suicide because I felt like I would never be a real man. I felt like I wouldn’t ever be able to free myself from this prison that I had built for myself by rejecting my identity. It was shitty and it felt awful. I kept holding on to any piece of femininity I could find in myself because of how much I started to hate the idea of being trans. I hated it so much I just wanted to stay “normal.”

I relapsed. The only other trans friend I had at the time was a fucking enabler who I should have cut off forever ago, so it just got worse. I started doing stupid shit that I can’t even say on here for my own safety. It was bad, it put me in danger, and it was disgusting.

I began to calm myself down after a few months of not thinking about it and I decided to wade back into the waters of my trans identity by identifying as genderless. I just thought “hey, if I don’t have a gender, then there’s no reason to feel dysphoria right? I’m just me.”

Yea well no surprises here, it didn’t work. Another year of suppressing my real identity and I still hadn’t learned anything. I suppressed my identity for 3, almost 4, years because I was so scared of who I really was. I suffered from so much internalised transphobia for the past years due to the environment I grew up in. It changed how I perceived myself for the worst, and in the end, it didn’t stop me from being trans.

I have VERY recently come to accept my identity. I’m a boy. I’m FtM and that’s okay!! I wanted so bad to be able to hang on to my cisgender identity that it made me feel miserable for years. Finally I can really say that I’m trans and proud. I feel like I actually fit my identity and I no longer feel like I’m faking anything. It feels so freeing-

However, now that I’ve finally let go of my internal transphobia, I still have to face that of the world around me. I’m anxious to be public about my identity, I’m anxious to even come out to my parents (AGAIN.) because of what they might think.

I know there’s people out there who’ve had it worse than me, and that scares me the most. To imagine that there’s people struggling with the same issues as I am but with genuine violence in their lives, it’s worrying. As a country and as a society we have to understand that our views on young lgbtq+ members is crucial to how they view themselves. We’re just kids, we shouldn’t have to “toughen up” because we’re being told to shoot ourselves. We shouldn’t be getting told all these terrible things in the first place.

It’s fucking awful and I don’t think people have a real understanding of how passive transphobia affects people in the real world. There are dead trans kids because of this. There are dead queer kids because of this. It’s not easy to be surrounded by hate no matter where you look. I was lucky enough to have my friends as a support but not every kid has that. We gotta fucking fix this, it’s hurting innocent kids who just want to figure themselves out.

This was longer than I expected,, I tried to keep everything very linear. This isn’t a sob story or whatever, I just want to raise awareness for kids in the south because what I experienced was honestly so mild compared to what some other people I know have gone through. If you made it to the end, that’s awesome because I would’ve gotten tired by now Hah- thank you so much for reading-

if you’re of legal age to vote PLEASE do research on who you’re voting for because our leaders, local or National, determine the future of this country.

#tommstic #transmasc #transgender #trans man #trans issues #trans inclusion #transisbeautiful #transphobes #pls spread awareness and share ur own stories if you’re also a trans southerner!! #lgbtqia #lgbtq #lgbtq rights #lgbtq community #gender dysphoria #tw dysphoria #tw sucidal ideation #tw selfhate #internalized queerphobia #trans

[yuukei-yikes]

SHOW US ALL THE OG/FANMADE KAGEPRO MERCH YOU OWN!! (please) (with cherr y)

i own exactly 1 merch.

this kano keychain. my big sibling had an exhange student year in japan in 2015, and they brought him back! and i kept him! he's my little buddy hanging out next to my desk where i draw, with miku and that squishmellow keychain half my datefriend got me

i also own the third volume of the manga, but its packed somewhere (ive moved countless times and packing and unpacking books eventually gets... tiring)

erm. anyways. i dont have any merch because....i live in argentina!! which means i cant buy stuff outside the country without a ridiculously high tax and risking losing it in the mail anyway <- which happens even with purchases inside the country lol. all u can get here is basically the manga volumes. and for fan merch, im not saying it doesnt exist here but specifically in my city's little cons ive never stumbled across it... i follow an artist on ig who made some ene and shintaro stickers once (id link them but i honestly dont remember their @), but they're from buenos aires and i dont live there so i wasnt attending that con u_u but it does exist! i just havent gotten lucky...yet...

getting a lil personal, i was in switzerland for a year and i actually came home like 4 months ago, and while there i did consider buying the novels and even merch but augh packing and weight limit for suitcases...yknow, not the best idea to buy Books. so i didnt. and for merch, i Did look for some stuff online but i gotta say. im so paranoid abt losing stuff in the mail and losing money i didnt get the balls to buy anything that wasnt from neighbour countries. i BARELY bought stuff online in my time there LOLLL

back in early 2022 my buddy red (@/fightxer here on tumblr, @/redpksp on twitter) and i collabed on these

i made the sketch and he did... erm... everything else. color+lines, ordered, shipped them. lol. these pics are also from him, bc i dont actually own this charm in real life. they were gone by the time i went to switzerland so i didnt get one 😞

sry i kinda rambled abt my personal life ofc i dont need to justify why i dont own any merch but heh i felt like it.

#ask tag

[dogesterone]

venty

im. literally so sick of being poor. im treated like nothing at my job, im barely scraping by to be able to afford to live, and there's still so much i want to be able to do but i just cant. i will probably never own a car, let alone a house. ill just be bound to wage slavery forever, teetering on the brink of not being able to pay rent.

did you know i have a bachelor's degree in computer graphics? i dual-majored in video game development and 3d animation. i spent four years of my life on that shit. i graduated two years ago now and not once out of the hundreds of jobs that ive applied to have i ever gotten a word back. completely ghosted. an automated message at best. "entry level position, 3-5 years experience required, 2.5k other applicants" like fuck off. still doesnt make me feel like i havent shot myself in the foot repeatedly. hell, im not even fucking good enough for stuff outside of my degree. not even local jobs that just pay a couple bucks more than where im at now. i spent thousands of dollars trying to get across the country and ruined my truck beyond repair banking on the gamble that id have an easier time finding a job only to have nothing better than what i could've had before. literally the only two good things to have come out of moving were access to a hema club and coming out as trans. and even those feel unsustainable. equipment, dues, registration fees, travel accommodations, new clothes, hrt, doctors appointment fees, it all adds up but without it id be in an even shittier place.

[master-k0hga]

| M A L I C E C I L |

[ Category: Misc OCs ]

| Another non related OC, think I showed him off last time but I re-drew him recently again cuz I didn't like the one before...

Anyways super awesome demon bf Mali, who, another OC I previously introduced, is dating Winston for like... Idk years- Winnie didn't believe he was an actual demon for like a whole year, people were telling him but he would've just shrugged it off... Til he finally believed Mali one day that the horns were not a headpiece-

But anyways, a wild ride their relationship first started out with, but funnily enough it never got worse.. It actually got better, Mali is usually the type of Demon to have fun, go out drinking, one night stands, groupies; All that, but Winston was an exception for him, like yeah he'll do his basic normal demon things, but he'll always be willing and happily come back to Winston, even plans one day to propose to him... Which he'll need to get a job for himself if he were to do that as a surprise.. Anyways-

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INFO

Name: Malicecil Species: Demon General Personality: Perverted, cocky, confident, easy going, flirtatious, playful, funny, overall very welcoming, very chill Height: 9ft Relationship Status: In a relationship

Extra Info:

His age doesn't seem to be very easy to tell as he looks roughly in his late 20's/ early 30's all the time, but it's not a surprise that he is well older than that. Winnie himself was in complete shock when Mali just randomly walked up to him one morning and just whispered how old he was in his ear; Whether it was to sound impressive or just to see his reaction is of course another question however

As mentioned, he has in fact gotten arrested one time for driving while under the influence of alcohol. Apparently despite being a demon who could potential wreck havoc to the world one day if he snapped; He's so chill to the point where authorities can still get him done for human related crimes

Has an underworld form for whenever he ventures in and out of hell, or as most demons decide to call it; "The Underrealm", how he looks on the surface is the best he can ever get to looking more "human", despite him not looking THAT much different to his real look. He's literally only slightly taller and more brute built in his Underworld form

There are other demons who have socialised along with humans just like him, he even hangs out with them in clubs, going out for drinks and so forth while keeping it buddy-buddy; Humans aren't excluded from joining them if they ask, no discriminating here after all

Has gotten romantical with quite a few humans at LEAST dating back to the late 60's, unsure whether he has lived longer than that is unclear however as he refuses to acknowledge his life before that era

Has many forged ID's for every country; Why wouldn't he, he's a demon after all. Winston sometimes wonders how he manages to get himself into trouble before the problem is "seemingly forgotten"

Acts as Winston's personal mannequin when it comes to stylizing and tailoring; Mali enjoys it believe it or not, anything that makes his boyfriend smile is good enough for him

Despite being green, he actually likes the colour brown more

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That's all I believe, didn't really have much for him at all honestly so with this was definitely a good time to delve a little deeper into his character... Most of my OCs are mainly just made because I've thought of them either for a purpose of another OC or just because my brain decides to go "I dreamt this" (kinda like the "I made this")

...

Anyways, I don't really have much to talk about this besides just the usual so I guess that's it really....? I'll just get on with trying to get on with my other OCs in the meantime and take a break from it with fan art from time to time.. I'll just hopefully get more refs done for the OC spam, since I know I won't be really doing much online these days so I'd rather not work on a drawing then post it immediately... And then having nothing else to post, especially when it takes me ages just to be happy with a sketch and finish it off..

... Oh well, whatever.

. Malicecil, Art © Me . DON’T RE-POST .

#MASTER-K0HGA #Ary / Kohga Chronicles #Ary / Kohga OCs and Works #Malicecil #Male #Fandomless #Misc OCs #My OC #My Art #Demon OC #Demon #My Character #Re-post #My art re-posted #I do enjoy the fact that I'm categorizing my OCs at this point #it does kinda help with trying to keep this blog organised and whatnnot #Especially when I tag said categories too... Makes it easier for me to search them via tags on this blog too! #Easier way to separate OC related art and fan art as well when I'm trying to quickly find another post of mine.. Especially older ones. #Anyways not much to say....Never is tbh with how dead online is always for me... I've been talking to myself for years online #So it'll never change for me. I won't ever be like. Busy others are online but that's cuz people are interested in what they do #And don't get randomly ignored or left behind for now reason at all other than cuz people get bored of you #Or have heard random bs about you that you've never heard of in your life.. Oh well............ Minding my own business #Not that anybody gave a shit about me in the firstplace anyways...... Mali the chill demon dude who's kinda awesome #...... And wish he was my real friend too... He'd probably be my only friend actually...

[djuvlipen]

wait actually, same anon from earlier, i have another question please, hope this isnt a stupid one. how do you/what other opinions have you heard abt the incentives taken to educate roma kids? im particularly interested in this bc in romania both among us and the roma part of the issue w trafficking is that girls are uneducated and lack opportunities, and generally im all for education being done in small rural communities, and in the future id like to spend my time in communities trying to do anything at all to help w this mess. but. at the same time ive always felt theres something - i hate this word but oh well - problamatic about it? obviously roma kids deserve equal access to education, and i know specifically for roma girls this is often harder because at times they are expected to marry young - which happens w us too at times. but at the same time, there are many roma in romania who dont want to send their kids to school, even when the opportunity is presented and insentives are taken, and from what i get one of the reasons is that there are those who see it as an attempt at forced assimilation....is it systemic opression to use the state to get these kids to school? at times too i have gotten the sense that the education system is in a way trying to make the kids less roma, if that makes sense, and that i rly dont agree w or think its gonna help much

Hi anon! This is a really tough question

You identified the different issues at play here. On the one hand, it is true that education is very important as it leads to employment opportunities and as it lowers the rates of early child marriage, sex trafficking and prostitution, and sexism overall.

On the other hand, European countries (not just Romania) have all used their institutions (be it the healthcare system or the education system, for example) to persecute Roma, take Romani children and forcibly assimilate them into the white dominant culture by separating them from their families. That was the policy in my country in the 18th century and during WWII, for example. That's why many, many Roma distrust any State officials, including medical professionals and teachers. This relationship is even more complicated by the discrimination you can get at school for being Romani (bullying from classmates, discrimination from teachers, up to outright segregation in specific Romani classes).

And still today, many national or European-wide programs or organizations are still embedded in this rhetoric. I'd advise you to look up Angéla Koczé's book Gender, Ethnicity and Class (I have a link to it in my pinned post, it's available for free online), she's a Hungarian Romani academic who talked a lot about the colonial dimension of these programs. Here, "colonial" is defined as the exercise of a political and economic power by more powerful groups over weaker ones. You get a lot of pro-Romani orgs, like the Open Society Fundation, a very famous one that played a key role during the Decade of Roma Inclusion, that will back programs in support of Romani rights, but will do so in a paternalistic manner, using the rhetoric of "civilizing the Roma". These organizations are led by white people, with Roma rarely being in commands, and their Romani employees regularly experience racism from them. Grassroots Romani programs get sidelined, they often don't get invited to programs led by these big groups, which leads Koczé to qualify it as a silencing technique.

If many Roma don't want to send their kids to school, it's because the trust we put in the education system is very eroded, has been eroded by a history of persecution, and is still very flimsy nowadays. This, as well as misogyny, is then justified by "culture" ("we take our daughter out of school to get her married"), which is a good excuse to naturalize sexism, but also, to prevent us from being fully aware of the history of anti-Romani racism

Because it's not true that Roma don't want their kids to receive an education. I don't live in Romania but I work with an association that helps Romanian Romani immigrant children with school, their homework, etc. Romani parents are either enthusiastic, or are interested in the project but can't rely on it because they have other priorities. Once, a 6yo Romanian Romani girl I was helping didn't come because she had to help her parents earning money. This Romani family eventually dropped off the project because they were evicted from their home so they moved to another city to find a new place to live.

tl;dr, no I don't think it's systemic discrimination to use the State to get Romani kids to school. However the way it's being done right now is most often than not systemic discrimination, because Romani kids are often subjected to bullying at school, they are sometimes put in segregated classes, and lack of education is a reason that was/is still used to take Romani children away from their parents. It could be done differently, in a non oppressive way, but European countries all have a long history of anti-Romani racism that they are not addressing, and using the State to force Romani kids to school will not help build a relationship of trust between Roma and education professionals. Moreover, as long as European States don't fix their economic system, that has been marginalizing and impoverishing Roma for so long, no progress will be made, as poverty prevents children from receiving good quality education

Hope this helps!

#anon #asks