#and then just knowing i can do this so accurately makes me !!!!!!!

[stars-for-circe]

Tongue Tied

Support Palestine

Tags / cw: EXTREMELY suggestive, oral fixation, fingers in mouth, tongue piercing, piercer!Ellie, choking, finger sucking, Ellie is kinda pervy?? WE USE CELSIUS GUYS. 19 CELSIUS!!!

The leather seat felt clammy below you, despite the gentle faux breeze coming from the air conditioning. Beside you, the small tray of sterile equipment, reminding you of why you were here in the first place.

You shivered. Fuck, who sets the AC at 19 degrees? Wrapping your arms around yourself, you began to regret the choice of wearing a tank top despite the weather outside. Outside, where you’d much rather be - where there wasn’t a room colder than the arctic, or a bunch of needles about to be stuck in you, or a stupid fucking leather seat digging right in-

“Cold? I can turn it up, if you want.”

Ellie Williams. The most popular piercer in the area. Either from her looks or her talent, you couldn’t tell - but it was probably both. Arms crossed as she leaned against the door, and a small, amused smirk on her face as she watched your antics.

“Um, no, it’s fine.” You said shakily - or shyly, rather - smiling through your chattering teeth after you found where the voice came from. You spontaneity was probably enough of an inconvenience, booking an appointment late at night where it was the only time Ellie could fit you in - so it would have been rude to make her wait any longer than necessary to get the piercing done and lock up.

“I’m Ellie, by the way.” She called out, before making a beeline from the doorway to the small station at the end of the room, keeping her head down the entire time. You hummed in response, just barely suppressing the ‘I know’ on the tip of your tongue, as she rubbed some of the sanitiser in and put the gloves on. Then, Ellie paused her movements, back still turned away from you as she raised her head.

“Although….” You held your breath. You could feel the smirk on her faced despite not being able to see it.

“…I’m guessing you knew that already, Jesse told me some pretty girl wanted me ‘specifically’, to pierce her today…”

“What?” You stuttered out, mentally blaming it on the chill, and not your lack thereof. This time, Ellie snickered, shaking her head softly as she turned around heading towards you.

“So, you gonna stick your tongue out for me?” Grin still on her face, she watched as you sputtered out a reply while she haphazardly grabbed the forceps off the equipment tray.

“W-what?”

“You’re here for a tongue piercing, aren’t you?”

…That sly little shit

You could only nod, too taken aback to do much else. The most you expected here was to get a damn good piercing from a really hot girl, what Ellie was doing to you was not planned in your little outing.

“Yeah? So open up, hon. Gotta mark where you want it.”

Now Ellie knew that she didn’t need to mark anything - she was so used to doing this that she could just eyeball it and still be accurate. But, she thought, being able to cup your face, while you oh so obediently stuck your tongue out for her, as she just slipped her thumb ever so slightly into your mouth under the guise of keeping you still, would make up for the extra labour.

Your mouth was warm. Even through the black latex she wore. Ellie could almost imagine how soft it would feel sucking her dick, how delicate you’d be while kissing along the silicone. Fuck, she’d moan out loud if she wasn’t careful - all from the pad of her thumb resting on your tongue. And the way it twitched and made a swallowing motion as the bitter taste of the marker hit your throat really didn’t help.

“Hah…” You made a small noise at the prolonged moment. Surely the marker didn’t need this long to deposit a tiny dot pigment?

Ellie quickly snapped out of it, ripping her gaze from your mouth to your eyes. Right, she was still piercing you today, nothing else. And the taste of the marker probably wasn’t pleasant enough to be placed there for so long…

“Uh- so, ‘m gonna get the needle now.” She stuttered out, before making a joke.

“Last chance to back out…..or tell me if you’re squeamish….”

Fuck, the needle was kinda of big. Like, really big. Was it really meant to be that big? For a moment you hesitated, wanting to back out of this all and go home. But then you looked at Ellie, holding the forceps in once hand, reaching to grab the needle with the other, and you really wondered if backing out and embarrassing yourself in front of Ellie Williams - because of a fucking needle - was worth it. It would be over quick, right?

“Um, no- I mean-” you coughed.

“No, not squeamish, so, yeah, ‘m ready…”

“Yeah? Just uh, take a deep breath, ‘n stick your tongue out when you’re ready.”

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth, and stuck out your tongue - just like Ellie said. For a moment, you flinched, feeling the cold press of the forceps clamping on your tongue, before you concluded that keeping your eyes open would lessen the surprises. In front of you was Ellie, although a lot closer than before. And this time, with the needle in her hand, facing you.

She nodded, for approval. And you could only look at her with wide enough eyes that you hoped conveyed your consent, before she slowly, and gently, put the needle through.

Now, if Ellie hadn’t been on the clock, if there weren’t a couple people at the register or a possible camera somewhere in the room, Ellie would have fucked you. She would have shoved the damn piercing in and shove you flat on the seat and she would have fucked you so hard you’d be numb the day after. But Ellie couldn’t.

Fuck, she wanted to, but she couldn’t. Because no matter how fucking hot you were, or how cute you looked staring so trustingly up at her with your cute fucking eyes while she shoved a needle in your mouth, or how your small breathy whine of pain when it went through made Ellie soak herself-

“I uh- ‘m gonna put the piercing through now. It’s gonna feel a bit pinchy for a second.”

She didn’t know if you wanted her back.

You scrunched your eyes a little, as the piercing went through, but discomfort finally turned into relief as you could finally put your tongue back in your mouth. Then it went quiet for a bit, the both of you not really knowing what to do next. Which was weird, because wasn’t Ellie used to doing this?

“Can I um, take a look?”

She stared at you, for a moment, almost like she was in thought, before nodding and reaching for the mirror and handing it to you. You held it up and stuck your tongue out once again. And, to your happiness, it looked really fucking good.

There was a chance you got a little too happy, however, as you smiled openly and started to almost flick your tongue about, looking at it from every angle imaginable. And maybe if you paid less attention to your new modification, and more on Ellie, you’d notice her focused stare on you. Well, your tongue, more like.

You’d have noticed her furrowed brows, deep in thought, her own mouth slightly open at the sight, and her fists clenching and unclenching, too. But you didn’t.

What you did notice, though, was her ripping the mirror out of your hands. Like an epiphany came to her about your piercing. She threw it on the table, making a loud clanging noise, before cupping your face with her hands on each side. She stayed like that for a while, staring at your now closed mouth and so close that you could feel her breath fanning on your face. And it took about five seconds before Ellie’s eyes widened and she realised how fucking weird she was being.

“Uh- fuck-” she began, almost like she was breathless. Her eyes flitted around the room and she shifted on her feet, until she could figure out what to say.

“Your piercing.”

“My…..piercing?”

“It’s crooked. Might be the backing but uh- I need to fix it.”

You raised a brow. Wasn’t Ellie mean to be a really good piercer? Maybe it was the piercing itself or something, you thought, as you nodded closely and opened your mouth. Slowly, you felt her right hand trail from your cheek to your lips, thumb pulling slightly on the bottom one before slipping her index into your mouth.

Shit, Ellie missed it so much. Albeit, it had probably been three minutes since she last had her fingers in your mouth, but it felt so good. Like they belonged there. She wondered how long she could keep this up, before you noticed what she was doing. She was almost worried you’d find out and get mad at her. But then she felt your tongue swishing along her index, and then she slipped her middle finger in too. And then, Ellie stopped giving a fuck.

And you couldn’t help but rest your cheek on the lasting hand on the side of your face, almost nestling into it as subtly as possible. Part of you knew this was unprofessional, that there were better ways to go about a fucked up piercing. But another part of you couldn’t help but like what Ellie was doing. And you couldn’t help but suck.

Ellie choked out a moan. She covered it up though, by talking.

“You need to stop moving. Here, let me just-”

“Ellie-”

“Shhh, don’t move.” She spoke so tenderly, almost whispering to you as her thumb stroked your cheek. Maybe it was the soft dominance she was extruding, or maybe it was because of how desperately fucking wet you already were. Either way, you listened.

You stayed still, as you felt the hand cupping you cheek slip down your jaw, and find its place on your throat. And you stayed still, as you felt her hand close around it and squeeze on either side.

“Can you stay still now, baby?” God, that made you feel fuzzy. That and the now limited blood circulation coming to your brain. Fuck, you never realised choking felt this good.

Ellie watched you, as your eyes drooped voluntarily, as drool started to slip out of your mouth while you were still sucking on her fingers. How you whimpered as her hold on your throat tightened - how your thighs rubbed together as she did that.

And you watched Ellie, through your hazy, droopy eyes, as her breathy pants got deeper, as she leaned even closer to you as her grip tightened, and as her eyes searched yours for some sort of response to a question she didn’t ask - but you knew she wanted the answer to. You sucked even harder. You let your tongue run along the ridged and bumps the gloves made on her finger. You swallowed so hard that her hand on your throat moved along in tandem.

“Shit- you- ohmygod-” Ellie’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she whined. She was pleading you at this point.

And you nodded.

…Fuck it.

“You wanna fuck?” She mumbled breathily, taking a long, condescending glance at your body - the state of your body - and then another at the lock on the door. Running a hand through her hair, Ellie took a deep breath, before letting out a loose chuckle.

“God- s’is so fuckin stupid…” She ran her tongue along her teeth, scoffing at how eagerly, how desperately you looked at her. And this time, she answered her own question for you.

“…..Yeah, let’s fuck.”

Taglist: @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @r3starttt @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @abbyshands @littlegingerperson5 @flowersforvi

#tlou2 #tlou #the last of us #the last of us 2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams the last of us 2 #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams smut

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 11.1 (MBJ x OC)

A/N: Ummm so welcome backkk! This is 11.1 because there's a second part to this chapter (I know... my self control keeps getting worse lolol) But I hope you enjoy!

TW: grief

“I’m never fucking drinking again,” Raven moaned to herself as she stumbled out of the comforts of bed. She felt like hell, if hell had a truck run over its head a few dozen times. 

Raven generally considered herself an early riser but nothing could pull her out of bed that morning after what was, objectively, the dumbest night of her life. Part of her wished she had had one or two more drinks so she could have officially transitioned into the ‘blackout drunk’ phase. So that she would, at least, be spared the embarrassing memories. But no, every horrible moment of the night from dancing wildly at the bar to Michael saving her was etched into the crevices of her brain with shocking clarity. 

Now, it was after noon and Raven still found herself wanting to be curled under her blanket asleep so she could escape her embarrassment. 

A knock at the door pulled her out of her wallowing self pity. She did not make an attempt to move, expecting Tiffany to answer. However, when the voice of their landlord rang out and her knocking persisted, she quickly slid on her robe to open the door. She decided Mrs. Winters would have to get over the fact that she looked like death reincarnated. 

“Rough night, dear?” 

Raven grimaced for a moment, she did indeed look as terrible as she felt. 

“Something like that,” Raven offered a tight smile, her body slumping against the door. “W-what can I do for you, Mrs. Winters?” 

“Oh I’m just letting everyone know that we had a pipe burst on the floor above. We’ll have folks in and out and you might hear some noise and stuff. But if you see any leaking into your unit, give me a ring?” 

“Of course. Will do. Thanks, have a good one,” Raven tried her best to politely shoo the woman away. However, she lingered. 

“Oh I meant to tell you, that boyfriend of yours is just such a good egg. So kind and polite. Admittedly I haven’t met many famous people,” she laughed. “But you just don’t expect them to have such good manners, you know?” 

Raven stopped. “My boyfriend?? Sorry… When was he here?” 

“He stopped by this morning. Gave me a check for your rent for the rest of your lease. Oh and asked where your mailbox was, said he wanted to drop something in it.” 

Raven was worried her jaw might come completely unhinged as the woman spoke. 

He did what?? 

“Are you alright, dear??” 

“Y-Yea, yea. Just… a bit of a surprise. Thank you.” 

And with that, Raven immediately closed the door, not listening to the elderly woman’s reply. 

“This nigga… I hate him,” she muttered to herself as she slumped against her door. 

Every cell in her body knew that was not true. But she also knew that everything she had told him last night was still accurate. She was too tired to forgive him and not just him… anyone ever again. The world has used up all of her second chances and she did not have it in her heart to be disappointed by him again. The narrative in her brain was so set in stone, she did not think anything he could say or do would make her believe anything else. She could not even make herself go retrieve the note that was apparently waiting for her in her mailbox. 

“Such a coward,” she grumbled as she flopped back into bed. 

She stared at her phone for several minutes, her text thread with Michael open. She wondered what she could even say? Thank you?

She knew any conversations demanding she pay him back or he rescind the money would be moot. Even if she had the mental fortitude to argue with him right now, she would still lose. But she could not just accept it without trying to push back. 

She typed and erased and typed and erased before lamely landing on: 

Raven: You can’t pay my entire rent. I can’t accept that. 

Raven: I don’t want that.

Michael: Yea you can. Told you… gonna show up every day tryin’ to fix us. You just gotta let me.

Raven: Money isn’t gonna fix this, Michael. 

Michael: I know. But it can fix the tangible things I fucked up for you

Michael: So let me fix that for you. 

Raven paused, as a warm sensation filled her, a warmth she had not felt in over a month now. The warmth of being cared for. She had never had someone take care of her without wanting something in return, except Michael. Even when their relationship was built on transactions, he still took care of her without needing or asking for something from her. The book deal, her rent were just the tangible examples of how he had stepped up to right the wrongs he could and she could not deny that those actions meant something, softened something inside her. 

He was doing exactly what he promised he would do the night before. He was fixing what could be, he was showing with his actions that she meant something to him. And yet, that blockade that stopped that belief from taking root was still there, still prohibiting her from believing these actions were anything more than a skilled manipulation. 

He would draw her back in, he would not change, and when he got ready, he would hurt her again. That’s what everyone in her life did. 

Raven: It doesn’t change anything

Michael: I know… didn’t expect it to.

She tossed her phone to the side and grabbed her pillow, screaming into it as her frustration got the better of her. The complex web of conflicting feelings with Michael B. Jordan trapped at its center only continued to grow. She wanted him to let her go, to stop caring and trying and going out of his way for her because that fit into the narrative nailed to the cross of her brain, it would confirm her beliefs and fears. 

But instead he continued to do the things that made her fall in love with him the first time, things that only reignited the dimmed but still existent flame that was her love for him. And she knew she would never get over him if she kept letting that happen, kept letting him in. 

So she did not even respond. Instead, she just closed the thread and tossed her phone to the side. 

“Let him go, Rae,” she demanded to herself. “You don’t deserve him and he doesn’t love you.” She repeated that a few times before it felt real again, before all that had started to soften was once again as solid as a block of ice. 

***

“You look like shit,” Alex moaned as she watched Michael’s makeup artist, Shanta, struggle to make him look less like a living zombie ahead of his Oprah interview. 

They were tucked away in a suite in Oprah's sprawling LA estate. It was difficult to make Michael feel poor but Oprah was certainly one of the few people in the world who could do so. 

“Thanks, appreciate that.” 

“You know I don’t believe in lying to you. Make sure you get those bags under his eyes,” she instructed. “Alright, this is it. Final stretch. Movie’s out and every review is stellar so far. Do this interview, it’ll air this week, Oscars on Sunday and then you can sleep. Though I bet it’s not the schedule keeping you up? Talked to her since the premiere?” 

Michael forced his body not to sag at the mention of Raven as to not disturb the hard work of the woman trying to make him look alive after days of no sleep.  

“She texted me about the rent thing the next morning. But it’s been radio silence ever since.” 

It had only been a few days since the fiasco after the premiere but Michael’s concern for Raven had not diminished one bit. He  could not let her go as she requested but he tried his hardest to respect her desire for space. His heart was stuck in the quicksand that was Raven and he had no desire to pull himself out. He wanted to be right there. He knew eventually he would have to accept defeat, accept that she had moved on. But he could not do it while she still questioned her own deservedness. She could hate him for the rest of his life, it would be her right. But his soul could not allow her to live thinking so lowly of herself. So if he had to pay 30 years of rent or call in favors to make her life easier and make her see that she deserved care and someone to sacrifice for her, he would do it. It was high time someone in her life put her above themselves. 

“Well, at least she talked to you. That’s something. You’re doing what she asked. Sis has lived a life, she needs time and space. Keep doing what you're doing. Except for the no sleep. For the love of God, by the Oscars, please get a good night’s rest. That’s your night.” 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Alex…” 

She scoffed. “You’ve won the big four, Mike. It’s not just because I believe you deserve it… Statistically, Best Actor is yours. The Oscars is your night. Have a little faith in yourself.” 

“I hear you. I just don’t wann-” 

“Excuse me?” A young man poked his head in the door. “Apologies for interrupting. I’m a PA. Just wanted to let you know that we’re almost ready? I can take you out to the garden when you’re ready.” 

“Be right out. Thank you,” Alex called. 

Shanta did her last quick finishing touches before Alex gave him her customary once over. 

“Shanta, my girl, you’re a miracle worker per usual.” 

They both offered Shanta their thanks, Michael rolling his shoulders before heading out the door to walk out to the gardens. 

He had met and interviewed with Oprah once before so he was not particularly nervous. But despite having done millions of interviews, there was always a kernel of nerves right beforehand that he could just never shake. 

He was dressed in slacks and a light black sweater, thankful for a cooler day as he walked out into her expansive gardens where the Oprah Winfrey waited for him. The cameras were already rolling, capturing footage that may or may not make into the hour-long special. 

“The man of the hour!” she called, her arms stretched wide to wrap Michael in a hug. “Actually I think man of the year is more appropriate. Welcome. I can’t tell you how excited I am to have you here.” 

“Thank you, thank you. It’s so good to be here.”

“Have a seat,” she gestured at the very comfy chair across from hers. “And we can jump right in.” 

***

Raven’s head was propped against her fist as she stared at her computer. A sentence. That was the grand total of her hard work for that Wednesday afternoon. But it was something, she supposed. Weeks of hard work had amounted to maybe two or three pages of her book. She had been offering Angelina vague answers on her progress, ducking and dodging her to avoid admitting that there was no way in hell she could have a draft by March 15 like they talked about. 

“Rae? You busy?” 

She turned in her chair toward the door to find Tiffany’s head poking in. 

“Nope… I’ll never be busy again at this rate,” she grumbled. “What’s up?” 

“I just turned on the interview… if you want to watch?” 

Raven scratched her head, unsure if she could even watch him? See him happy and thriving without her? Despite everything happening between them though, she could not pretend there was not a part of her that still wanted to celebrate this moment in his career. Interviewing with Oprah the week he was poised to win his first Oscar? How could she ever forgive herself if she did not watch this? Even if it hurts? 

“I’ll… be there in a sec. Thanks, Tiff.” 

Raven let out a deep sigh before she grabbed the blanket off her bed and dragged herself to the living room. The interview had already started and he looked gorgeous. Tired, she could tell, in the way he constantly had to readjust his posture, in the bags under his eyes that the makeup artist could not quite fully cover. But even at his worst, he looked captivatingly good. 

Raven found herself studying him so intently that she did not even comprehend the words he and Oprah were sharing. She just watched him and his mannerisms, she focused on the glimmer in his eyes that sparked every so often. She missed looking into his eyes, missed how expressive they were.  

This moment only amplified how much she missed him, missed hearing the deep baritone in his voice and the spark in his eyes when he spoke about his passions. She missed his bright and uninhibited laughter, how his hands were always on her in some way. She just missed him. But she had pushed him away, had told him to let her go. And even if he had not fully let go of her yet, she felt too scared to open that door again, even if her soul ached for her to. Particularly when he continued to try to show up for her in small ways. 

And despite how angry she still wanted to be at him, she had never had anyone show up for her quite like this… try for her like he did. And everyday, her brain took up far more mental space than it should have, debating whether she should follow her foolish heart and forgive him or listen to her logical brain and cast him aside. Days passed and she still did not know the answer. 

“So I’ll admit,” Raven’s ears finally started to pick up the conversation between Oprah and Michael, “I watched Waves more times than appropriate. But Gayle and I saw it at Sundance and we both thought it was just the most heartbreaking and poignant look at loss and grief that we had ever seen. While still being engaging and funny and so relatable. The journey your character goes through is just… I mean I think grief is one of the few universal experiences that we all will have at some point. And you really brought that to life through this character and his struggles with addiction. And the fact that you filmed this while engaged in completely different projects with complex characters like Killmonger in Black Panther and Adonis in Creed 3… I’m curious what you pulled from to give that performance?” 

Michael shifted in his seat as he chuckled, Raven had missed how passionate he got about this project, even though he had been talking about it and doing press for it since they first started dating. She knew he had not truly expected the role to blow up in the ways it did but she could tell he was grateful for it, nonetheless. 

“Well first, thank you. Yea aside from Oscar Grant, Andre was the hardest character I’ve ever played and he stretched me as an actor in ways, you know, I didn’t really expect? And I learned so much from him in his sort of journey through grief. You know, when I read the first script, the line ‘grief is the final stage in love’s evolution,’ really stuck out to me. When you lose someone, grief, this enduring pain you feel, is that love shifting and changing because it has nowhere to go, there’s no outlet for it anymore. And so, Andre really reframed my own thoughts on grief and loss and how I process that and allowed me to pull from personal experiences with loss to pour into that character.” 

“Yea I will say, that line was one of my favorites. I sat with that long after the credits rolled.” 

“Yea same. I remember sitting a-and thinking about that one for a while after reading it. And I loved that even in the more comedic moments of this movie, we still had those lines that made you wanna stop and really sit with what the characters were going through.”  

“Definitely, I was dissecting this movie for weeks after. It’s just amazing. So I do want to shift gears to talk about this moment you're experiencing because of this movie. This really is the biggest moment of your career. You’re nominated for your first Oscar and a favorite to win, so far in 2023, you’ve won a SAG Award, Golden Globe, and BAFTA. And you, as of two days ago, just had your directorial debut in Creed 3. First question, how are you still awake?” Both of them shared a laugh. “But serious question, how has this moment felt? How does it feel to be having this moment at this stage of your career?” 

“Oh wow, when you list it like that, I don’t know how I’m awake either,” he chuckled. “But seriously, you know… it’s been a ride. I know you’ve felt this too but you know, you don’t often take a moment to just pause and soak it in. You finish one interview or award show and your mind automatically just jumps to the next one. And I think what I’ve been trying to force myself to do in the later weeks of this insane time is just to slow down and enjoy it. Not rush through it and really enjoy the fruits of… really years of hard work and sacrifice. But that also means sitting with… you know, the challenges of this time too, which isn’t as rewarding,” he admitted with a sad smile. “But I’m growing and learning alot so it’s worth it.” 

Oprah nodded. “You know I always appreciate when people don’t let the 24 hour news cycle and gossip sort of steal their thunder and moment from them. And I applaud you for sort of moving through the more gossipy side of the last few months with grace and maturity. But you haven’t really talked much publicly about those stories and the effect they have had on you. And you don’t have to get into it if you don’t want but I am curious on how you navigated that and really came out on the other side, from what I can see, stronger for it?”

Michael bowed his head and chuckled. “Um… you know a good friend of mine told me that she thought this was the most vulnerable and most genuine I had ever been publicly on this press tour and I think it’s because I’ve had to navigate some really personal stuff during this great but hectic public moment? And that’s new territory for me.” 

“And I think that friend is right. I don’t think we have seen or learned this much about you ever.” 

“Yea and I wish I could take some credit for it but… it was all one person: Raven Turner. And the way we met, now as the world knows, was extremely unconventional and I can admit that our relationship started as a complete lie. A lie I thought would help me be seen as this serious, mature man my team was worried I wasn’t. And I wasn’t,” he admitted. “I was cold and guarded and not at all the best version of myself. And while I regret how we started and trying to fool the world into thinking I’m something I’m not, there isn’t a bone in my body that regrets falling in love with her.” 

He leaned forward a bit as he spoke. “Because all those walls and barriers we build around ourselves to survive in this world of Hollywood? To endure the criticisms and insanity we deal with? She's the first woman to see me. Not the actor and the money and the fame but just me. And in that, she saved me… without trying or intending to. She just loved me and loving her, choosing her is the single greatest decision I ever made. And I hate how this moment has fallen on her, how my terrible decisions led to these pretty disgusting misogynistic attacks on her. And I think my biggest regret is putting someone as pure as her in the line of fire like that and not doing enough to protect her. And you know, I have to live with that, which is tough.” 

“You know I’ve interviewed thousands of people in my career and while I believe you have to change for yourself and on your own, I also have found that the ones who love us, really love us, are often the most powerful catalysts for change in our lives. I’ve certainly seen and experienced that in my own life and it’s important to spotlight those who were that catalyst.” 

“Oh 100%. Especially when, I think this version of me was always there? I was just too hurt to trust anyone with it, so no one saw it. I buried me under this facade I thought was better? But I fell in love with a woman who taught me that you can’t be guarded, you can’t shut down just because you’re hurt. Life is about getting up every day, being authentically you, and reaching out and loving and risking your heart every time. And sometimes you’ll get swatted away and sometimes you’ll get an embrace. But you just deny yourself love when you don’t show up at all. So I’ve been trying to live by that more lately. Because she showed me what real strength and courage looks like. And I want to have that, I want to lead with that.” 

“Wow… you know people are going to watch this and I think, applaud that vulnerability. It’s refreshing to me because I don’t think our world incentivizes or encourages people to admit when they aren’t being their best selves. So I think for you to do that, at a moment when you’re at the top of your game, is commendable.” 

“She deserves to know the positive effect she’s had on my life. To be celebrated for how she supported me. And you know it’s not just me? When we first started dating, I remember her one stipulation was that we couldn’t go out on Wednesday evenings because she hosted a book club for kids at the library she worked at. And that was the most important thing to her, being there for them. The day of our first date, she spent an hour delivering books and SAT prep books to those same kids she worked just because. There’s just a selflessness to her that is truly admirable. And I think while people are attacking her and calling her these vile names because she made a certain choice during a hard time, they should know who she really is. A woman that would drop everything to help you even when you don’t really deserve it. A woman who I’ve seen give others all she had because they needed it more even when she did not have a backup plan for herself. I could honestly talk about her for the rest of this interview because she deserves celebration far more than I ever could. Genuinely good people don’t always get the shine they deserve, they don’t always get the love and care they deserve because we can often take them for granted. But no one deserves to be celebrated more than her, to be celebrated loudly more than she does.” 

“I love that… she seems like quite the woman.” 

“She is… and I hope she knows that.” 

“So tell me about…” 

The words faded away as his words tumbled through Raven’s head. They clashed jarringly against every belief she had internalized about herself, like metal against metal. But she found herself wanting to believe him. Believe the words a section of the world just heard. She wanted to believe that what he saw in her, even over the course of six months, was who she truly was. Not this broken, damaged scapegoat life had fashioned her into. 

There has to be more than this, right? 

Tiffany nudged her with a box of tissues in her hand. Raven had not even realized she was crying but she accepted them gratefully. 

“Don’t know how I still have tears over this man left,” she whispered as she wiped her eyes. 

“I don’t think those tears are because of him, sis.” 

Raven sniffled and grabbed another tissue. “You m-might be onto something. I can’t watch anymore. Night, Tiffany.” 

However, before she reached her bedroom, she heard Tiffany call her name. 

“I know what he did… sucks. And hurts. But that’s a man who loves you, Rae. More than anything. After that? The only person in the world who still won’t believe it is you.”

She turned around to face her, the back of her hand wiping away a few more stray tears. “You know he said the same thing?” 

“Well, I generally don’t think actors are that smart,” Tiffany admitted with a laugh. “But he’s right about that. You deserve to believe good things about yourself, we all do.”

“Nothing good has ever lasted… I always ruin it somehow. I tried to believe I deserved him and life proved that I didn’t,” she answered, her voice small. “D-Don’t have it in me to try again.” 

“Raven… I know we aren’t best friends or anything. But how many times have I watched you forgiven your dad and sister? Let them back in, try to make things right with them? Try to build the family you want?” 

“Too many…” 

“Right… So why does Michael only get one shot when you found the strength to give them 100? When he’s the one actually showing up for you? He’s the one who actually is trying to earn another chance?”  

“It’s not that simple and you know it.” 

“I know that the only person denying you happiness right now… is you. You push away the good people and things in your life because you feel like you don’t deserve it but no one would be here if you didn’t. Michael, the kids in your book club… me. I don’t keep signing leases with you because you’re a terrible person who ruins everything, no one has a gun to our heads, Rae. We’re here because you do deserve it.” 

“Tiff…” 

“Nope, shut up. This pity party is getting old and tired. It doesn’t matter what I think of you… or what Michael thinks or anyone out there.” She gestured toward the window. “All that matters is the narrative you’ve created and until you decide to believe something else, all you’re going to do is push people away and fuck up and self sabotage because it’s all you think you deserve. You gotta wake up and do some fucking work, girl. Cause until you figure out how to erase this narrative from your brain, you’ll never be happy. And you’ll never fall in love with anyone except for someone who treats you like crap. You’ll never build your own family. You’ll never finish your book or have another fulfilling career. You’ll just be stuck in this broken version of yourself alone… forever. And I’ve seen a few different versions of you over the last two years but this is by far the most pitiful.”

Raven had never heard Tiffany be so blunt. The words were biting but she could not deny that some of them rang true in her ears. And that was always the hardest information to hear. 

“Damn… tell me how you really feel.” 

“The soft gentle love wasn’t resonating clearly so had to go with a different tactic…. Just think about it. And once you fix all this shit and move to a mansion in the hills, don’t forget about me.” She winked at her, causing Raven’s jaw to drop slightly. 

“How do you even know that’s gonna happen?” 

She shrugged and grabbed the remote to press play, Raven not even noticing that she paused it.

“Just got a good feeling about the two of you. Now go so I can lust after him in peace while he's still single. Kidding! Kinda..."

Raven let out a small laugh as she shook her head. "I know you're not kidding. Night, Tiff.” 

She slid into her bed, her only refuge of late, and stared at the ceiling. She was surprised she was not tired of looking at it by now. Michael and Tiffany’s words wrestled with her own thoughts for hours

What was her problem, really? It was not that what Michael did was unforgivable because it wasn’t. Some distant part of her, too quiet to break through the noise of her anger, always wondered if there was more to the story, believed that he had to have had some reason. But she was too angry to allow him to explain. It just became vicious ammunition that no one could ever love her or care about her… that she was the problem. 

Well, that’s true… no one’s ever loved you. And everyone who does leaves. 

She supposed her mother must have loved her, but she would never know. She would never feel it. And her grandmother’s love was so distant, so long ago, that it no longer felt tangible, was no longer a tether to anchor her self worth to something positive.

Instead, the only thing that tethered her sense of self worth to anything was her family’s disdain. Disdain that made her question what Michael could’ve seen in her, how he could ever love someone like her? That disdain which made it far easier to believe that what he did was proof that he did not love her than that he possibly did do it to protect her in some weird way. No other thought could live long enough in her brain to take hold. 

And she did not know if doing what Tiffany suggested would fix that. There was not enough time in the world for her muster the courage to interrogate and confront the source of these feelings. She had hoped she would never have to see her family again. Some days, never felt like too soon.

But she knew she could not avoid it. They were the root cause, the narrative in her head was fueled and sustained by them. And screaming at them across the Thanksgiving table and never speaking to them again was not the closure she needed. She thought she had dropped the weight that was her family when she cut them off. But she was still dragging all the luggage they gave her around and it was time to give it back. 

She knew her family did not want to see her either, knew it would be difficult to get them to even speak to her after everything. But she knew she had to try… because she knew there had to be more to life than this. That she had not been born to only suffer through life instead of live it. So she needed to confront her demons for herself, even if her relationship with them did not change one bit.  

She grabbed her computer and her wallet. It was time to go home.

***

Raven’s eyes remained trained on her dad’s house across the street as she sat in her rental car. She was almost shocked that none of her family’s nosy neighbors had not called the police yet as she sat there for nearly an hour, summoning the courage to actually go inside. 

She had felt so sure this was what she needed when she bought her plane ticket. And that confidence did not waver when she stepped onto the plane or during the long journey from LAX to Charlotte, NC. However, once she was in her rental car, she found herself waffling, aimlessly driving around for hours. Her brain seemed unable to direct her to the place she knew she needed to go. Home. 

She just could not make herself do it… not yet anyway. So she did not. Instead, she finally went to her hotel to try to get some rest and her night’s rest turned into the entire Friday holed up in her hotel. She had not booked a return ticket, prayerful and hopeful that there would be a reason to stick around for a few days. But that also meant she did not have the incentive of time to make her move faster. 

But she could not even make herself do this. Because she did not know how to be brave like this. Her life had been nothing but running from pain and confrontation. This was so contrary to that. She did not know how to do any of this. She tossed and turned all night, unable to get any sleep particularly when there was only one person who she wanted to talk to, wanted to seek courage and strength from. Because when she felt scared, when she did not feel strong, he was the only person she wanted to reach for. But she was not sure he would even answer. She had pushed him away, told him she needed space. 

But she had not felt like she could do this alone. So last night, she called him. 

“Rae! Everything ok?” he asked immediately, his question met with silence. 

Raven did not know what to say and regret filled her like ice water in her veins. But she knew it was too late to hang up, she had to see it through. She paid for that moment of weakness when she hit the call button as her throat closed at the sound of her voice. She found it impossible to speak, even if she knew what words to say.  

“I’ll wait until you’re ready, Rae. Got all night for you.” 

And she knew he was not just talking about waiting for her to speak. 

“Why?” she whispered, the simple word coming out in a strangled sound as she tried to push past the tightness in her throat. 

“Why what?” 

“Why even answer after everything I said to you? W-why do you keep trying?” 

“Because I love you,” he answered simply. “And you’re worth it. I’ll keep reaching out, baby girl. Even when you swat me away.” 

“You might be the only person who thinks that,” she whispered back as a tear fell. 

“I don’t think that’s true. But even if it was, knowing one person is in your corner is all you need sometimes.”

She laughed lightly. “That press tour got you only speaking in motivational boxing terms or something?” 

His deep laughter filled her ears and filled her soul with such joy that she had forgotten. She had forgotten what these moments felt like, the two of them on the phone or curled up together in bed, just talking. She missed it… she missed him. But she could not say it, could not bring herself to pull her body out of the water to make that long trek back up the cliff to where he waited for her. Everything in her brain screamed at her that she couldn’t do it, that she did not have it in her. And she hated herself for it. Hated how she clung to the ice barriers around her heart, even though they were utterly fractured and ready to fall. She just was not ready yet. 

She let out a shuddering breath as she hastily wiped away her falling tears. “I… don’t know why I called. I s-shouldn’t have called.”

“Call me anytime, Rae. I’ll always answer. I’ll always show up for you. I hope you know that… at least.” 

“Y-Yea… I think I do… or at least, it’s getting harder to deny it,” she revealed. “Your interview with Oprah… it was really good,” she offered lamely. 

“You watched??” she could hear the surprise in his voice. 

“Yea… I almost didn’t,” she admitted. “But I caught most of it. Did you mean it? Everything you said?” 

“Every single word.” There was no arguing with the definitive tone in his voice. “I get that you don’t trust me anymore. I lied and kept secrets. But one thing I never lied about is how much I love you.”  

Her eyes clenched shut for a moment. That was one thing he had always been consistent about, her ears had just been perpetually shut to it. 

“I… um… I gotta go. Early day tomorrow,” she lied as she sniffled. “I’m sorry for bothering you. Bye, Michael.” 

She was not sure what she had expected to get from that call and, at first, it felt as if she only got a firm kick in the heart for it. But for the first time since she landed, Raven had enough strength to finally drive to her family’s house. She had rolled her eyes at his boxing motivational quotes but hearing someone say they were in her corner, that had given her courage. To just feel like someone was behind her, even if she was alone, that meant something to her. 

She took a deep breath and got out of her car, forcing her legs to carry her to the front door. 

Her rounds of knocks went unanswered, Raven getting slightly frustrated but determined not to leave the porch. If she turned around and walked away, she’d never come back. 

After an extremely brief internal debate, she decided to simply let herself in, deciding that since she contributed to the mortgage, she had a right to come in as she pleased. And her father still, foolishly, kept a spare key underneath the welcome mat.

Though she had not been to her family’s home in two years or so, it still looked the same. Her father’s favorite work boots were thrown haphazardly at the door, several pairs of her sister’s shoes lined up next to them. She was an utter mess but she was, at least, somewhat neat. And it still felt… cold. And it had nothing to do with the cold winter east coast weather. The house had always felt like that, void of warmth and love that made a home a home. 

“Kiara?” she called out. “Dad?” However, she was met with utter silence. 

Part of her supposed she was thankful they were not home and that they had not just ignored her or something. She stood in the living room, staring around the room at the pictures that lined the walls and shelves. So many of her mom, her dad, and Kiara but there were none of her. That was not a surprise, it had always been that way. But that did not make it sting any less. All they had ever wanted was to erase her from their lives and if a stranger walked into this house, it would be as if she never existed.

She started up the stairs, her eyes refusing to linger long on any of the photos there. They were all lies anyway, a picture perfect family that did not exist because she had been born. She decided to ascend to the attic once she made it upstairs. Because that was where all her grandmother’s and some of her own things now lived. She had never really gone through her grandmother’s things after she passed, no one aside from her dad to pack them up. But she knew there was so much of their lives, so many memories she had forgotten of the one person who loved her, forgotten in those boxes that she now desperately needed to remember. 

She ignored how narrow the opening to the attic was, realizing that it had been easier to maneuver up here when she was a young teenager. Everything was still neatly packed away as if her grandmother would be back one day to pick it up. 

She started to open each box, pulling out and examining her grandmother’s things, so many beautiful things forgotten in this attic no one went into. For the first time in nearly two decades, she felt close to the only maternal figure she had ever had, felt like her grandmother’s hand was on her shoulder as she reminisced on their short but well-lived time together. 

She found the old costume jewelry her grandmother used to let her play with, laughing to herself as she thought back to dressing up in front of her vanity mirror pretending to be a model or whatever silly idea the pair had thought up. She almost cried as she found a very crumpled piece of paper with the last story she gave her grandmother to read before she died, a random short story that she had written for class. She had not realized, as she found a folder, just how many of her stories her grandmother had kept. 

A gold glint caught her attention, Raven reaching into a giant box to find a shoe box. Raven had seen that box 100 times but her grandmother had never let her touch it, claiming that it held priceless family heirlooms that she did not want Raven or Kiara to mess up. Raven rolled her eyes that something her grandmother had valued so much had been discarded and forgotten haphazardly at the bottom of this box. 

Finally giving into her childhood curiosity, she opened it. It was still filled with things, part of her thankful that Kiara had never found it. The jewelry and pieces in it were gorgeous and indeed priceless. She took her time as she examined each one, wondering if they had belonged to her mother or her grandmother or some other relative she never met. However, it was what existed underneath the jewelry that caught her eye: piles of tied up envelopes, one with her name on it and one with Kiara’s. 

The handwriting was not her grandmother’s, which made Raven even more curious. 

She pulled out the stack with her name on it and undid the thin ribbon that tied them together. There were ten letters there in total, each one with a different note scribbled on the envelope. 

To Raven on your 18th birthday 

To Raven on high school graduation 

To Raven after your first love 

To Raven after your first heartbreak

To Raven on college graduation 

To Raven on your wedding day 

She only had to flip through a few of them to realize who they were from. Her mom. 

“You’re killing me,” she muttered to the sky, unsure if she was speaking to God, her grandmother, her mother or all three. 

Her hands trembled slightly as she ripped open the one on top, addressed to her on her 18th birthday. These were some of the only words her mother would get to say to her, she did not care how long ago she should have read it. She would savor each one. 

To my sweet darling girl, 

If you are reading this, it means that I am not physically there with you on your birthday. It means that I’ve missed 18 birthdays and too many milestones to write a letter for and for that, I am sorry. You might be wondering why there is not a letter for all those milestones and birthdays that have taken place but this felt like the best place to start and the appropriate age for reading the musings of a dying woman. If there’s even such a thing.

We learned your gender today. Another sweet girl. If the doctor somehow got it wrong, these letters will be incredibly awkward. But I know they are right. Because you, my darling girl, are the manifestation of my wildest dreams. I dreamed of you almost a year ago, this beautiful girl with half my face but all of my spirit and personality. And every night since then, I prayed, begged God to make that dream a reality… no matter the cost. And he did. 

I know my body is not strong enough to be your mother, to be around to be the mother someone as brilliant as you will deserve. But I hope you know that deciding to have you and keep you, regardless of the risks, is the single greatest decision I ever made. You were not an accident or a misfortune given to me. You are my dreams. And if my last moments on this earth are spent looking at you, it will have been worth it. 

I waited until 18 to start these letters because I worried a child could never understand the choice I made. And you may still not. And if you resent me for leaving you before you could know me, I understand that too. But I hope that through these letters, you will get to know me. And you will feel some semblance of the immense love I have for you. 

I don’t have much advice because you’ve likely heard it all at this point. But the two most important things I can tell you, that I wish someone had told 18 year old me, is to know that failure is part of the journey. Your grandmother used to always tell me to keep reaching out your hand even if it doesn’t work. I didn’t really understand it soon enough but I hope you do. Life is about risks and if you don’t reach out your hand out of fear, you’ll protect yourself from pain but you will also miss out on the gifts God is trying to hand you. As a daughter, I hated to admit it, but mama was right about that… and so many other things. 

And finally, more importantly than anything else I could offer you in these letters, please remember every day that you are so, so loved. 

Know that regardless of what happened to me, I loved you with every fiber of my being until my last breath. Know that you were a gift from God. And every day you venture out into this world, know that you are worthy of so much because you were so loved from the moment you were dreamed up. Do not let anyone or whatever will happen to you in what I pray is a long, rich, happy life diminish that light, diminish your worth. I know how special you are and I don’t even know your name yet. And while I hope that your father and grandmother will affirm you daily, you don’t need other people to tell you that you are special. You have to know it for yourself. That’s the most important advice I can give you. Know who you are and your worth and take up as much space in this world as you want. And as long as you never forget how special you are… how deserving you are, you’ll move through this world shining bright. And the world will be forced to know it too and move to give you what you deserve. It’s not much and a bit cliche perhaps but I’ve been torn down enough to know that sometimes we all need the reminder. But those are stories for another letter. 

By the time I write my next letter, I promise I will have picked out a name for you. I read a book the other day where the main character was named Raven… I had not thought of it before but I like it. 

Happy Birthday. 

Love, 

Mom

The river of tears streaming down Raven’s face splashed against the slanted handwriting on the page, Raven quickly whisking them away so the words would remain legible. Raven did not even know how long she sat there staring at the words on the page, her heart bursting with the knowledge that her mother’s hand had touched this very paper, that she had poured her heart and soul into every word etched into it. 

It was like proof she had been real and not this entity Raven had conjured up in her head. Raven could not stop herself from ripping open all the ones that she should have gotten along the way. The one for her first love and the separate one on heartbreak were four pages each, and Raven did not pay attention to the clock as she absorbed each and every word. 

Everything she had learned about her mother had been through her grandmother and she had always wondered if her grandmother told her things just to make her feel better. But she realized that her grandmother had been telling the truth, she and her mother were so much alike. She found herself nodding and laughing along to her mother’s stories and wisdom embedded in all those pages. She was a prolific storyteller too and an amazing writer, another trait Raven realized she must have inherited from her.

For the first time in 30 years, Raven did not feel weighed down by this unbearable guilt. She felt lighter than she had ever been in her entire life. Perhaps this was what God wanted her to find here, not a confrontation with her family, but these words. This tangible proof that her mother had chosen her, wanted her… loved her and that she had not ruined anything at all. 

Her mother would not have wanted her to carry such guilt around for so long because there was nothing to be guilty about. 

The letters were scattered across the attic floor when she heard the faint sound of their garage opening. She quickly folded up all of her letters and stuffed them back into the box, tucking it under her arm as she climbed out of the attic. She did not make much noise as she closed up the attic, just as she heard her father and sister close the garage door and enter the kitchen. 

Their voices drifted up to her ears as she started to climb down the stairs, deciding that she might as well get the pure unpleasantness of this moment over with. 

“Wait… you hear that? Is someone in the house??” she heard her sister ask, knowing that they both could hear her footsteps against the old floorboards. 

“Don’t get your gun,” she called out as she started down the stairs. “It’s just me.” 

She was greeted with less-than-welcoming expressions from her family, such disdain that it made her want to scurry away. But she did not. She had done enough of that in her life.

“Adding breaking and entering to your criminal activity, now?” 

Raven scoffed as she placed the box on the kitchen counter that stood between her and her family. 

“Don’t think you can break into a house you helped pay for?” she answered coolly. “And I’m not the one with a mug shot here if I remember correctly.” 

“No you’re just the one who sold her cheap ass for a quick buck.” 

Raven shook her head, opening and closing her mouth for a few moments as she tried to find the words. 

“Yea I did… And I’m not proud of it,” Raven admitted. “But I won’t let you or anyone shame me for doing what I needed to do to survive. What helped the two of you survive too.” Raven scratched her head, realizing that trying to get closure from her family was unnecessary. Her mother’s words had given her all the closure she had ever needed. That’s what she had come home for. 

“You know, I got a plane ready to rip you both a new one for 30 years of abuse and torture. To try to force you to admit that I’m not the villain you made me to be. But… I don’t need that anymore. Because the cross of guilt and shame you two forced onto my back for all these years isn’t one I should have to carry. But I did because I thought it was the only way to keep you two around. And even without you two in my life, I still drag that cross around because I thought I deserved it. But I realized today, way too late, that I don’t need a damn thing from either of you to put it down.” 

“So you came here to what? To chastise us and steal?” her father asked, gesturing toward the box on the counter. 

“You can’t steal things that belong to you. These are letters mom wrote to me,” she lifted the open letters out before sliding the unopened pile to her sister. “And to you.” 

“Your mother wrote these?” he asked, his jaw tensing as he looked down at the stack. 

“Yeah, she did. You’ll enjoy yours… she was a really good storyteller,” she glanced at Kiara. “These letters just told me something I should’ve realized long before Thanksgiving. That cross? That guilt? It isn’t mine. And I am done wasting my life trying to rectify the mistake of being born. Because it wasn’t a mistake. She chose me… prayed for a second daughter knowing the cost and she decided it was worth it. And hearing her say that? That’s all I need to know that I deserve so much more than this… so much more than you.” She took a deep breath. “Being a grieving husband isn’t an excuse to be a terrible father and I’ll just be grateful I found some way to survive you and this. And jealousy doesn’t give you the right to be a shitty sister.” 

“What the fuck do I have to be jealous of??” 

“I always wondered that. But reading those letters… I finally got it. Because even as a failed author and prostitute, I’m everything she was. Grandma used to always say I had her personality… her talent. I always thought she was lying to make me feel better. But you knew she wasn’t and you could never stand it. Couldn’t stand that I was more like her than you.” For the first time, her sister was speechless. A good look on her in Raven’s opinion. “Mom wanted so much better for me than this and I’m gonna go and find it. Because I’ve wasted too much energy trying to earn the love of people who don’t deserve it. So if you want to go to your graves hating me, making me the scapegoat for every problem in your miserable lives, have at it. But know that I don’t hate you even after all this. I won’t be weighed down anymore by any feelings toward either of you ever again. You aren’t worth it.”

Raven pulled herself to full height and rolled her shoulder back as she scooped up the box and folder she had taken from her grandmother’s stuff. 

“Now I’m gonna go and have that long… rich and happy life mom wanted for me. And I hope you two do the same.” 

She did not look behind her as she walked away, a soft smile on her face as she walked out of her family’s house for the last time.

She let out a long laugh as she sat in her car, so much of the weight she had been carrying around gone. It did not feel sad like when she cut off her family at Thanksgiving. She finally felt as if she had cut the anchor away and she could float away, she could move forward and heal all the broken pieces of herself that they had gleefully chipped away at. 

When she got back to her hotel room, she just kept rereading her mom’s words. She would memorize each letter at this point. A part of her desperately wanted to open the other ones but she had not reached those milestones just yet so she left them where they were. For some reason, she worried her mother would disapprove of her breaking into them early. 

One line of five letters she read and reread stuck to her bones above all else. And of course, as if her mother had known, it was embedded in the letter for her first love. Love… the thing that had cracked her wide open and brought her to this moment in the first place.

You’d be surprised to know that this was the hardest of the letters to write. Because everyone has some prolific idea of what love is and feels like. And I realized I don’t… because I don’t think I’ve ever experienced the love I pray you are as you read this. That’s not to say I don’t love your father, I do. But I want something different than convenience for you. I hope that the love you feel is safe, allows you to feel the full spectrum of what it means to be human - strong and vulnerable, insecure and confident, boisterous and timid. I hope it feels like stepping out of the cold air and into a warm embrace. I hope it is loud and unapologetic because you deserve nothing less. And I hope it makes you feel so enraptured that everything else in the world goes quiet. And lastly, I hope, more than anything, that it feels like home. That when you’re in this person’s embrace, you feel as if your soul finally landed right where it is supposed to be. 

Her eyes scanned that passage over and over again, realizing that she had found the exact love her mother described. She had come back here thinking she was coming home. But this wasn’t home at all. Home was where he was. And he was back in LA, about to prepare for the biggest night of his life in 24 hours. And regardless of whatever trust needed to be rebuilt and conversations needed to be had, she could not allow herself to miss it. She could not allow herself to not show up for him.

Raven scrambled to find her phone as it was hidden beneath sheets of paper. She scrolled through, praying she had not deleted a long forgotten group thread that housed one number she had once thought she would never need but now was the most important phone number in the world. 

She almost shouted praises to God when she found it, clicking the call button on the unsaved number. She paced up and down beside her bed as every agonizing ring dragged on. 

“Didn’t think I’d see your name pop up on my phone ever again.” 

Raven let out a sigh of relief as her voice filled her ears. “I know… me either. But I need a favor.” 

“Does it involve a certain award show tomorrow night?” 

“Yes. Is it too late?” 

“Yea it is.” she knew Alex could hear the tiny sigh of sadness she let out. “For anyone but me. I’ve earned enough favors around here to create a miracle or two.”

“Really?? Cause I need like more than one or two miracles… a dress, hair, makeup… hell a flight from Charlotte to make it back in time. Without him knowing?”

“Consider all of it done. Hope you don’t mind getting up at the ass crack of dawn though.” Alex asked, Raven hearing the smile in her tone. 

“For him… I’ll get up anytime.” 

“Good. Then I'll take care of everything... I'll have to tell his mom but she'll love this. And probably be happy as hell that she doesn't have to go anymore. I'll text you details in an hour."

"An hour?? That's all you need??"

"You're new here so I'm gonna choose to not be offended by that."  

"Noted." She was about to hang up when she stopped herself. “Hey… Alex? Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Just make sure your ass is on that plane and in LAX tomorrow when Allen picks you up, got it?” 

Raven chuckled. “Yea I got it. See you tomorrow.”

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154

***

A/N: So now will y'all stop yelling at me LOLOL our good sis is going back to her man! We love to see it! How surprised do we think Michael's going to be? Part 11.2 will be the Oscars! Drop a comment and let me know what you thought! And as always, thanks for reading!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #black panther #michael b jordan fanfic #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #adonis creed #creed iii

[audiblehush]

Listen, I’m on the “I’ll believe it when I see it” train with all these inconsistent S3 rumors because 1) LOL the fucking Sun, people, really?! and 2) “Well, the friend of my friend said… and they’re really reliable! Trust me!” 🙄

But even if it all ends up being true: I’ve already seen a handful of great posts talking about no, it’s NOT actually harming Colin’s character, thanks, and would make a lot of sense from what we know about where he’s at mentally so far - I’ll try not to rehash stuff they’ve already argued really well… and probably fail once i get going 😬

But I would also like to throw out that canonically… Book!Colin ALSO had experience prior to his relationship with Penelope?? Not to rakeish levels, but yeah, he had sexual encounters with women… That he then specifically mentions as meaning NOTHING once he compares it to what he has with Penelope because with her there is actual LOVE built over YEARS of INTIMACY.

And since Show!Colin is markedly younger than his book counterpart, it would make sense that this is something he is exploring, whether the initial choice is through coercion from his brother(s), or because he is curious, or… whatever he reason is?? It doesn’t matter??

He’s YOUNG. Being young means being curious about sex! It often means learning over time the difference between mere physicality vs intimacy. Learning about sex can be messy, confusing, wonderful, terrible, mediocre, not what you thought it’d be, etc etc etc.

Regardless of if we’re taking about Penelope OR Colin: Context is everything and WE. DON’T. HAVE. ANY. YET.

Penelope has her own coping mechanism for what she’s dealing with on her own throughout the show with LW; why is Colin any different, whether that’s drinking, tea, sex, etc? He’s clearly exploring different aspects of himself and finding what appeals or doesn’t appeal to him. And that’s normal!!

The IRONY of people claiming they’re furious at Colin treating women like sex toys… when that’s exactly how some people view Colin for Penelope. He is more than a prop for her! Their whole story is that they choose each other after years of self discovery and recognition of each others true selves… ALL of their past experiences included.

Even if the rumored second instance is true… 1) it would clearly be used as a way to prove that he’s miserable and NEEDS love and Pen and intimacy and 2) characters make mistakes... often ones they learn from. Pen has made her fair share of poor choices, too. Colin has and WILL make mistakes because that is what interesting, developing characters do, yet y’all act like he is unforgivable for being given his own plot scenes. He is NOT just there to have sex with Penelope!! He is a character outside of his romance with his own struggles to grapple with!

Also, please be real - this was SO NORMAL for men during this era, especially at his age! Why are MODERN DAY AUDIENCES acting so fucking scandalized?? One or two instances doesn’t even make him a real rake, ESPECIALLY if it’s being framed as him realizing it isn’t what he ultimately wants! Why are you even watching this show if something like this is so offensive to you?!

If all this ends up being accurate (which again, I doubt), I will admit I’ll probably be picky about how it’s handled… but I’ve always felt that way about this pairing in the short time I’ve been in the fandom.

But I NEED people to chill the fuck out until the season actually airs. You’re lambasting something you HAVEN’T EVEN SEEN YET.

#bridgerton #polin #colin bridgerton #BREAKING: HEALTHY AND CURIOUS YOUNG MAN TRIES OUT SEX IN ERA-APPROPRIATE FASHION #MORE AT ELEVEN #I did not get out of Catholicism to be seeing this pearl clutching in a SMUTTY REGENCY SHOW #take your great value Christianity purity culture and GTFO

[scorpiobabylon]

So I’m very autistic about music and I loved how succession made Kendall’s music taste have so much character and be so accurate to who he is and who he thinks he is, which made me start thinking about the other siblings listening to music. I just cannot imagine it. I can’t imagine Roman putting on his little AirPod and opening up a Spotify playlist or putting on posters in his room for a certain thing. The idea of shiv being into drill and grime is extremely funny to me. I think connor tells Alexa to put on slow old Spanish ballads blasting (at an appropriate volume) through every floor of his desert house and Willa wears noise cancelling headphones constantly. I just can’t decide if Roman has an obscenely normal man music taste (like what plays in gyms) or if he actually cares about music. And then I listened to horse foreplay again and I need to make a playlist for it so basically: what do you think Roman would listen to?

incredible message. oh man. for one, connor genuinely seems like a music lover because that’s in line with his situation being the only sibling to genuinely enjoy the spoils of wealth and just stuff generally. he also has that fleetwood mac line at tom’s bachelor party, and famously karaokes a fucking leonard cohen song. love him.

kendall’s music taste is central to his character, we all know what ken’s taste is (or at least i think we do, i have seen some very funny “ken listens to this” mixes. they should resemble the intern-curated obama end-of-year picks LOL). shiv i have no idea about, but i wouldn’t be surprised if she had some appreciation for whatever dad liked if dad ever bothered to point something out. i don’t think she listens to florence + the machine though be serious you guys just see a girl with red hair…………….

my personal read on roman’s whole Deal is that he has the least “life of his own” of the siblings. even his reputation / the rumors about him (that he’s a playboy who loves coke) are the least accurate to his actual behavior and preferences (esp when contrasted with ken’s public takedowns which hurt his feelings precisely Because they’re often true). it’s difficult for me to imagine roman having strong personal taste in….. pretty much anything, even when he sees his choices symbolically (“i want steak” speech in america decides). in the end, roman is most interested in cultivating an image of himself that is going to be the most protective of his true desire for authenticity and connection, but we know that he has no idea what to do with himself when he is confronted with an opportunity to actually “express himself”.

all this to say, it is very difficult for me to imagine roman sincerely enjoying music/art without a level of detachment, irony, or jokey judgement. if he likes certain sounds, i couldn’t see him singing along like kendall in the backseat. maybe a handful of songs are nostalgic for him, maybe some post-hardcore (…. fugazi….. honestly……) or even MAYBE some britpop or eurodance from the european half of his childhood. he wouldn’t allow himself true sentimentality with it though. he certainly knows all of the lyrics to a few songs bc he’s very In the World, esp culturally impactful songs, but he just seems like a guy who fucking hates bohemian raphsody. he knows who the pinball wizard is but i can viscerally feel his frown at hearing the baba o’reilly opener in a shop. he simply would never admit to loving a band, let alone buy a t-shirt! (i think i get a little annoyed generally with assumptions about roman that cast him as even a little bit twee just because he’s silly. look at how he actually dresses. this man would not paint his nails or have a charm on his phone. you’re thinking of kieran culkin!)

anyway this is my fav horse foreplay fanmix by @gotouda just bc it’s bursting with songs that are simply About Romtom. full of stuff me a young millennial gay person listens to so i play it a lot lol. there’s also an unsettled/upsetting undercurrent to some of these choices that matches the tone of the fic PRECISELY!!!! i have no idea how someone would go about building a mix based on romtom AND character taste just bc it is nigh impossible for me to picture roman roy listening to a song BECAUSE it reminds him of tom.

tom on the other hand…………….. that’s elton john, that’s ABBA, that’s broadway original cast recording, that’s george michael, that’s adele. ok

[onceuponapuffin]

Part 3!!

Okay, this thing needs a name. Please suggest ideas in the comments :) I know this part is tedious, but the thing with self-insert is you have Establishing to do before any Real Action happens. We'll get there, just hang on.

Beginning || Previous || Next

***********

The shaking must have been more visible than you thought, because Muriel is at your side before you can speak. They touch your shoulder gently.

“Um, excuse me,” they say, “Sorry, but you’re shaking an awful lot. Maybe you should sit down.” You nod, and it takes concentration, but with Muriel’s help you make it to the sofa. Apparently caffeine and adrenaline aren’t the best mix. Your breathing speeds up, despite your best efforts, and the rest of the room feels fuzzy. Shit, you do not need this right now. There’s talking and movement, but listening to the words feels too sharp, and the best you can do to convey that you are not okay is to shake your head over and over and over. You reach out a hand next to you, and are surprised to find the sleeve of Aziraphale’s shirt. It’s not ideal, but it’s something, and he doesn’t pull away. You focus on the feel of the cotton, the button on the cuff, the pattern of the stitching in the seams. Slowly, you’re able to tune back in. You focus on your breathing, you look around and count five things that start with B – button, books, brown, bow tie, black. Crowley hands you a mug of cocoa, and you accept it, running your thumb along the porcelain wings and letting your hands feel the heat of the drink. You take a sip and take stock.

Multiverse travel (?), mouthing off to the literal Voice of God (lol), brush with death (or...eternal saltiness?), confronting your very limited mortality (at least it’s 5 lives and not 3), panic attack. WELP. This is going well so far. Just peachy. You take another sip, and notice that everyone’s waiting. Oh, right. You clear your throat.

“Thanks,” You say, “Sorry about that. Um...I’m gonna guess that you all have some questions.”

“That would be accurate, yes,” Aziraphale says next to you. Now that you are better, he stands, straightens his waistcoat, and moves to stand nearer the chair (and Crowley), and watches you with his hands folded in front of him. “The first of which is, who exactly are you?”

“Buckle in, folks,” You say to them, “You’re in for a ride.”

And so you begin your info dump. You notice Muriel taking dedicated notes. Good, they’ll probably need those later. You tell them that you’re not sure exactly where you’re from, but it’s not here. You explain the tv show, the radio show, you even mention the musical, and of course, when you get to the book, you ask Crowley to find it on the shelf behind him. It’s right where you remember Jim leaving it. Crowley opens it, and you begin on instinct:

“’It was a nice day. All the days had been nice. There had been rather seven of them thus far, and rain hadn’t been invented yet.’ Now skip a couple lines Crowley. ‘I said that one went down like a lead balloon.’ Sound familiar? There’s more.” You stop quoting there, because Crowley has started flipping through the pages quicker. Aziraphale holds out his hand, and after a while, Crowley hands it to him, then goes to a corner where you notice him taking a few deep breaths. You lean to the side to see that he’s not smoking, exactly, but definitely smoldering. You look at Aziraphale next, and see him turn white as a sheet, before handing the book to Muriel’s eager hands. The scrivener is the only one who looks delighted as they flip through. Aziraphale cleares this throat and composes himself.

“Uhm...now I believe you told Metatron that...The Almighty sent you here. Is...is that actually the case?”

“Honestly,” You say, “I have no idea. I just needed to get him out of your shop and away from you.”

“Away from...me?”

“Yeah...um...” You notice that Crowley has come back to the conversation now, although his sunglasses are slightly askew. You glance at Muriel, who has noticed the shift in your tone, has closed the book, and is now watching you. They put the novel on the nearest surface and reach for their notebook again.

And so, you explain the most solid fan theories that you know. That their joint miracle from the other day made them a threat for Apocalypse 2.0, and that Metatron was here to separate them, by offering Aziraphale the job of Supreme Archangel. This news is met with...surprise.

“Well that’s just stupid,” Crowley says, “He says no, in your tv show, clearly.”

“Yes, I rather can’t imagine I’d be so keen to return to Heaven after everything.”

“Weeeeelllll…...”

The room goes silent, except for Muriel’s writing. They stop after a moment, unaware of the silence.

“So then, you were trying to keep them from being separated because the power of an angel and a demon is most powerful together.”

“Yeah, or the power of love maybe. I’m not sure. Neil’s been kind of vague on that point.” You intentionally keep your gaze on Muriel once you realize what you implied. You will get there. Making those two talk about their feelings is on your list. Patience, patience.

“Oh, the author – Neil Gaiman?” Muriel points at the book with their pencil.

“Yeah, him. He answers questions sometimes.”

Muriel makes a note. You realize something.

“Wait a minute, Muriel,” You say, “Are you...on board with this?”

Muriel stops writing and considers your question for a minute.

“Well, see, the thing is,” They begin, “I’ve seen an awful lot that I never thought I would see? Just in the last week. Like a demon being nice –“

“HEY! Not nice!”

“And the Archangel Gabriel being in love with a demon and running away with them. And then you fell out of nowhere, and honestly what you said to the Metatron may have been a lie, and therefore, you know, bad, but it makes sense. If God didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here. So if I help you, I’m helping the Will of God, right?”

Crowley is the one to break the silence that follows.

“Honestly I would have thought it’d take longer for you to take after me. I have to say, I am impressed.”

“Take what after you?”

“Nevermind.”

“Well,” says Aziraphale, “Is there anything else that we need to know about?”

You think about the kiss. You think about everything that came after. You think about ‘and I would like to spend -’ But no, none of that is relevant now. Why do you feel like you’re forgetting something?

The bell at the door rings. You turn around to see Maggie and Nina. UGH. Right.

“I’ve got it, ladies, no worries! Come back later!” You call, desperately.

“Excuse me! No, we need to speak to these two now if you don’t mind!” Maggie says. Clearly she doesn’t care who you are or what you’re doing here.

You roll your eyes. Honestly, you don’t have beef with Maggie and Nina. You agree with them telling off Crowley and Aziraphale, it’s just that you can’t help but feel that the clock is ticking. But, well, there’s no helping it is there? With a sigh, you stand.

“Come on, Muriel,” You say, “Let’s go to the kitchen and get some more cocoa while these four talk.”

Muriel follows you into the kitchen. You don’t listen, you don’t need to. All you need to do is refill your drink while Maggie and Nina tell them off. While you’re at it, you try to convince Muriel to have one. Despite your best effort, you’re unsuccessful. Oh well, all in good time. When you hear the bell chime again, you go back into the shop to find Aziraphale and Crowley looking very pink in the cheeks. You can’t help but smirk.

“All right, chaps?” You say in your best-terrible-British-accent. Aziraphale nods. Well good. Because you all have work to do.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #good omens fandom #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow lasts forever #ineffable fandom #muriel #metatron #good omens fanfiction #ineffable fanfic #self insert #let's write #we're all in this together #poll fic #neil gaiman #good omens 3 #anthony j crowley #aziraphale and crowley #muriel is good at their job #muriel is smart and we love them #yes we have video game lives #does that mean telling off the metatron gave us exp? #where do we go from here #fanatic intervention

[freezingmcxn]

The way you describe Toby is so slap-able. He’s reminds me of that one kid in school who would just do anything to annoy you no matter how hard you try to ignore them, like closing your laptop while you’re working or turning it off, throwing small things at you that might not necessarily hurt but are disruptive enough to get a reaction, insulting you in such a specific and out of pocket way, and repeating the action that finally made you crack over and over because they thrive on watching you hold back on the desire to strangle them. Is it for attention? Does he just like pushing limits? Does he actually want you to hurt him or is he just that annoying? Is this another case of ‘boys being boys’? Is being annoying a crime worthy of the electric chair? We’ll probably never know, but the fact remains that he will 100% make it your problem if you are even remotely in his vicinity. I can’t help but be genuinely curious what fuels this menacingly mischievous behaviour, and why he’s decided this is the best way to achieve whatever he’s trying to get out of being that way. Maybe it’s just entertaining and he just genuinely doesn’t give af, but as a people pleaser I can’t wrap my head around it.

(I’m just a girl in the world! Why can’t I just be a girl in peace?!?!?!)

How I treated my version of Toby Rogers (his emotions and actions towards others)

Notice I said my version, this isn’t really canonically accurate so don’t say “he wouldn’t do that” it’s how I wrote/interpret him

I wasn’t gonna answer this because I’m not writing for creepypasta anymore but…here I am, you intrigued me and made me wanna talk about him and the subject of that behaviour in general.

On the topic of creepypasta, people have wanted to ask me about things to do with my headcanons, and my own opinions, how I made them etc, you can ask me that I will answer on here, and on here only.

I used to be like you and I’d always wonder why people did such stupid shit in school, acted out etc.

I found it frustrating and irritating like how you described. But I’ll tell you one thing, I 100% don’t get irritated by that anymore.

There’s always reasoning for peoples actions, no matter how much you down play it to them just being annoying assholes, you always lead it back to something.

It can be as small as wanting to impress someone, or even just to seem cool.

People seek validation in numerous ways and for numerous reasons.

Although “attention seekers” can be annoying and confusing you should always take into account that something might be going on at home, in their head, in school etc that you don’t see or know about.

Toby was abused. Toby had mental issues.

Try deal with that for a day, a week, a month, a year, your whole life.

He always attracted attention whether he wanted to or not, the only reasoning behind my headcanon of Toby wanting to push limits is because of projection I suppose.

People pushed his limits, you can only push someone so far, before they completely break. You can only make someone so hurt until they act upon violent thoughts and hurtful words.

When there’s so much build up of material it’s eventually going to cause an avalanche, apply that to a build up of repressed emotions such as anger and sadness.

Those feelings are very explosive and can be physically and emotionally violent.

How my version of Toby acts (his menacing mischievous behaviour) is merely a mirror of his deeper feelings, whether he means to be a dick or not, he gets the gratification of being able to inflict that pain and hurt onto someone else, someone different, someone that’s not him, it’s temporary release.

You could say it’s sadistic, or you can sympathise, I leave that up for interpretation because it’s interesting to see peoples views change once they see a “bad” character was a previous victim to something heinous.

To make it easier to understand think of a leech.

Leeches suck blood from other organisms as they feed off it.

He’s like a leech, he sucks the happiness and joy out of other people’s lives and in return he gets the happiness he thinks he lost by seeing them suffer.

Now, I say “happiness he thinks he lost” because it’s artificial in my eyes, someone else’s pain being a source of your happiness is not true natural joy, it’s only a temporary happiness and you have to be more and more violent and resourceful as the source (person) distances themselves and eventually leaves.

Another thing to add is he cant deal with his own emotions so he deals with other peoples, he can control how other people feel,

Toby wants the power and control his father made him lose.

So yeah, that’s my thought process behind why Toby pushes people/ is a dickhead. I hope I explained it in an easy enough way, I like looking into things on a deep level.

#slenderverse #hcs #moon responds #creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #realistic #headcanons requests #ticci toby headcanons #character analysis #ticci toby creepypasta #ticci toby #toby rogers

[genericpuff]

Hi Puff! Idk if anyone has asked you this yet but what are your thoughts on the god of war game series? Are they actually more "accurate" about the greek mythology then LO? xD

oh lord, I'm def not a good person to ask about this question because I haven't played through all the original God of War games (though it makes me laugh to think about them because watching my oldest brother play the first game when I was like 7 years old was the first time I'd ever seen video game boobies LOL) but considering it's just a hack and slash game in which you brutally murder the gods... ima give it a big noooo on that one LOL it's about as accurate as LO in that it's more about spectacle and drama than it is about actually being accurate to the myths they're based on lmaoo

As for the Norse series of games, I actually HAVE played both God of War 2018 and Ragnarok and loved them both, though I'm not as well versed in Norse mythology so I also can't say if what they take from Norse myth is accurate. Obviously I know that Atreus/Loki has zero relation to fictional character Kratos from Greece and I have basic understanding of general concepts like Yggdrasil and the nine realms among other things like that, but the finer details regarding the stories of the characters themselves I'm not as brushed up on. Hella great storytelling though and I appreciate the lengths they went to to make it feel like a Norse-myth-inspired environment, even down to the vocabulary and terms used.

Just like with LO, you shouldn't be taking any of what God of War does or says at face value. If you like the games (or LO), use it as an opening hook to get more into the actual myths if they interest you. But definitely don't use them as any sort of credible source LOL

Now that I'm typing out my thoughts on this though, I think the biggest difference between GoW and LO (one that makes GoW far superior to it) is that the creators of GoW never once led their audience to believe that they were more than what they were, a hack and slash video game inspired by specific myths. What you see is what you get with GoW, but LO - and Rachel - constantly feel like they're actually trying to be taken seriously and that's what makes it all the worse when their storytelling is godawful and the amount of actual "myth" they have in the comic amounts to as much as a Family Guy cutaway gag. Just completely directionless and uninspired to the point you wonder why it's even an Greek myth retelling to begin with. At least GoW fully immerses itself in the myths their games are based on and has a shitload of fun with it, with LO it'll just source some copy pasted Princeton document or lazily tell some mythological metaphor that has nothing to do with the overarching plot so that it can remind you "hey this is a Greek myth retelling!" before getting back to its bland Keeping Up with the Kardashians romance. The mythological "inspiration" in LO feels more like tired lip service at this point rather than actual inspiration, which is really bitterly ironic considering Rachel used to tote around calling herself a "folklorist" and claiming that everyone else's knowledge of Greek myth compared to hers was "basic af".

TL ; DR: The biggest difference between GoW and LO in their retellings is humility IMO.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ask me anything #anon ama #anti lore olympus #lo critical #lore olympus critical

[splatsvilles-fashionista]

Splatoon 3 Version 7.2 patch notes breakdown

The patch notes for version 7.2, which is going live tomorrow, dropped earlier today, and this is a fairly beefy patch balance-wise, so let's take a look together, shall we?

First of all, the patch includes the renovated Undertow Spillway, but we won't know how it's been changed until it goes live, so let's jump right into the main weapons:

Sploosh's bullets have had their hitbox size increase, and while they don't specify by how much this should in theory make Sploosh's damage more consistent.

Splattershot Pro and H-3 now do 3 more damage, which doesn't change much about them directly but if you've been even lightly chipped by anything they're now gonna 2-shot you and that can be pretty scary. Watch out!

Nova is now 8% more accurate when its feet are on the ground, which means it might actually hit what it's aiming at every once in a while!

Luna Blaster's explosion ink is now 20% bigger, which means it paints more and can trap people in its paint more reliably, though I can't see that changing much with how fast it fires.

S-Blast's long-range mode will now do 50+ damage more reliably. Note that this is not a splash radius buff, it just makes it deal damage more reliably within the radius it already has.

Painbrush now paints more when rolling and starts recovering ink faster after rolling. This seems like a very meh buff to me, but it does speed up the weapon a bit, and it definitively needs that.

And the final main weapon change of the patch, Dapples now move faster when walking and shooting. It's a bit quicker on its feet now, and that only makes sense for the lightest dualies, doesn't it?

Now, moving on Specials:

Big Bubbler receives a chunky durability buff on its weak spot. This thing's gonna take a lot of effort to take down now.

Splattercolor Screen now does 10 more damage. This makes it combo with a couple of more damage sources, but did you know that you can squid roll through a Screen to take no damage from it? Now you know.

Triple Splashdown is getting a buff and a nerf. You now spend about ten frames less time in the air, but the splash radius was reduced to compensate. My gut feeling is that this is an overall buff, as it makes it less risky to use, but we'll have to see how things pan out.

And finally, and this is actually a big deal, when you Super Jump to a teammate using Kraken Royale you'll no longer jump to their location, but instead to the place where they activated their Kraken. This is huge because it deals a massive blow to the popular Clam Blitz cheese strats that the special had become known for where you use it to swim up to the basket and let your team jump super clams to it with no effort required. It was a huge sore spot in the mode for a lot of people, and this change pretty much kills the entire strategy. Very nice!

And with there being no Sub Weapon changes, let's move onto the final section, the points for Special changes:

Neo Splash and N-Zap '89 are the winners of this patch's "random shooter buff" lottery, and I expect the '89 to be incredibly common and incredibly annoying in turf wars after this. Carbon Roller becomes the first weapon in Splatoon 3 to hit 160p, and considering how poorly it paints that's only fair. Splat Charger and Dapples get 10p taken off their special charge as well, and in the case of the latter it's a buff that works pretty well with its mobility buff from earlier. In the nerfs department they hit a bunch of the most popular meta weapons with 10 extra points for Special, with Squeezer becoming the second ever weapon to get 220p after Sloshing Machine (and unlike it, squeezer kind of deserves it).

Overall, I think this is a good patch. The biggest pain points for competitive play going into this patch was Trizooka spam and the utter dominance of Snipewriter, and this patch does address both of them, albeit indirectly. Trizooka still probably needs a nerf, and nintendo remain as hesitant as ever to address any problem directly, but it's still a step in the right direction.

#splatoon 3 #drizzle season 2024

[bloodyymaryyy]

Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife reader? She surprised him at the office and she brought him homemade meals. You decide how it goes. Just something fluff and romantic. Thanks!! :))

Jemes Vowels x reader.

Side note : not gonna lie, I don't know anything about James nor does he interest me so forgive me. I am just doing what you guys request me to do! So... Might not be accurate like at all. I think he lives in England so I am gonna base it of of that! Again sorry!

Warnings : none that I can see

As James was leaving for work you woke up. You had a plan that needed to be put in acting.

Stretching your back, arms and legs you got up from the bed today was your day off from work so you didn't woke up earlier making it seem to James that you were sleeping in because you don't get to relax or get days off often so you walked into the bathroom doing what needs to be done and headed downstairs.

The previous day you went shopping for the ingredients to make your husband his favourite meal and his all time favourite desert.

Going into the process of the dessert first so you could put it in the fridge to cool down until is time for you to go the paddock.

When done with the desert in the fridge now you began making the meal. It took an hour to make it but it was worth it.

Packing both in containers, they were placed into your tote bag getting dressed up and fixing your hair you head out of the door with a smile on your face just imagining your husband's reaction not only for seeing you in his garage but you bering gifts or in your case home made food not only that but his favourite too

Arriving in you passed the doors and you heading to the garage stopping by as you saw both logan and Alex talking, you aprotched them hugging them kissing their cheeks, joining them in the conversation until you left for James's office.

Knocking on the door you heard a small come in from the inside with a familiar voice, twisting the knob and going in standing near the door until he lifted up his head to see who was it and not talking.

To his surprise it was his beautiful wife smiling down at him, he got up and hugged her and kissing her.

" y/n what are you doing here! I thought you were home sleeping still! Wow thanks for coming!"

" yeah I wake up just to get here! I brought you something that I know you will enjoy!"

Lifting up your tote bag and walking up to his desk to put it down again but now empting the containers out and opening the lids to gibe him a look inside for him to eat because it was lunch time anyway.

Kissed you again he sat down and ate it while closing his eyes from the pleasure of the flavours and homemade hood you brought him.

That's it thank you!

#x reader #drive to survive x reader #marriswriting #my writing #bloodyymaryyy #james vowels x you #james vowels x reader #james vowels #James Vowels fanfics #f1 x reader #x reader fanfiction

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I’m writing a story about a lady with Down Syndrome. I was wondering if you knew where I can find any resources about Down Syndrome made by people who actually have it, or any organisations that would be good to follow. Any resources made by people with intellectual disability would be really helpful as well.

I read your post about this and it was really helpful so thank you, I’m going to use it as a starting point for my research.

If you’d like some context about the story she’s literally a lady in the 1920s who’s trying to get control of her family’s estate from her brother. Shes underestimated for her disabilities and for being a women but I’m trying to not focus so much on the discrimination and work more on giving her an interesting mystery to solve with the detective she hired. I’d like it to be a bit lighthearted. Anyway, as she’s a main character I really wanted to make sure I wrote her well. Thanks!

Hi!

There aren't many resources out there unfortunately, but there is a page on the UK Down Syndrome's Association's website where members with DS share their opinions on representation in TV and film! You can read it here. For info on intellectual disability in general the best I can do is link some of my previous posts on it - there's close to nothing that's actually made by us unfortunately, everything that I was able to find is always made by someone who knows a person with ID at best. To be clear, not all of it is bad - I thought this interview (TW for abuse that happens in the movie's plot) about a movie starring actors with DS was pretty good - but it's still a sign that we aren't getting enough #OwnVoices representation. It's slowly changing though!

To learn more about DS I would probably recommend NDSS, it's one of the very few orgs that have people with Down Syndrome as board and team members (should be the bare minimum, but it unfortunately isn't). There's also information on things like preferred language and myths that often show up around Down Syndrome!

I'm not great with history, but in the 1920s she would be a subject to a lot more than just discrimination. Eugenics and institutionalization would definitely be present. Not sure what route you'll take there, but basically all the words around that time that she would be described with are currently considered slurs or pejoratives. The racist term for a person with Down Syndrome was officially used into the 60s, and the ableist one is still used legally in 2024. But if you want to skip past that, I think that's more than fine. You don't always have to aim for 100% historical accuracy, just be aware of the real history.

A detective story sounds very exciting! If you decide to publish it on Tumblr or other online site feel free to send me an ask with a link, I'd love to read it :-) !!

Thank you for the ask!

mod Sasza

I’m just popping in as a history fan for a couple bits of history notes — but again, like Sasza said, you don’t have to be 100% historically accurate if you don’t want to and if you don’t feel it’s necessary.

So, especially in the first half of the 1900s, a large part of disabled children, including children with Down Syndrome, were institutionalized very early in their life. Around this time the push that immorality caused disability was strong, and people were often convinced by doctors and professionals that the children’s needs would always be too much for them. Eugenicism was sort of reaching a peak around this time, as well—I would say it was at its most intense in the period of 1900-1940s.

Not all parents institutionalized their children, though. There was pressure to do so, but that doesn’t mean everyone fell victim to it. There wasn’t really any official support for parents who did this, and there weren’t official organizations for Down Syndrome. From my research, the current large DS organizations seem to have popped up in the 60s.

The term ‘Down Syndrome’ wasn’t in popular use until the 70s, and it wasn’t known that it’s caused by an extra chromosome until 1959.

Life expectancy in 1900-1920 for people born with Down Syndrome was 9 years old. Some of this could absolutely have been due to conditions in institutions, but likely even more relevant is that about 50% of people with DS are born with heart defects (also known as congenital heart disease) that can be fatal if not treated with surgery. Heart surgery wasn’t really feasible until the late 30s and early 40s. Another risk factor is a higher risk for infection, which isn’t easy to manage in a world that doesn’t yet have antibiotics.

I actually wanted to find pictures of adults with Down Syndrome pre-1940ish, though, to see real tangible evidence of adults being part of a community. First I found just one picture of a baby in 1925 on this Minnesota government website. But then I found a collection someone made of photos of both children and young adults, but they are not specifically dated. The first baby picture is from the 30s according to the poster!

Judging by the clothes I see people wearing in these photos, photo #4 (man with Down Syndrome in a suit next to a woman) seems to be from the 20s and photo #13 (young woman with Down Syndrome and very long hair) seems to be from about the 1910s. #18 (large family with a lot of sons, including one boy with Down Syndrome) could be from the 30s. Those three are the oldest people with DS in the photos, and they seem like young adults. A lot of these pictures show a community and aren’t just isolated kids, which I find nice.

It’s hard to find specific historical record of people with Down Syndrome from that period of time, but I wanted to show photos of real people in their communities to show, hey look! They were there, too!

Either way, I love detective stories and historical fiction and I’m glad you’re writing a story and that you care about your character’s portrayal but I totally know the feeling of that tricky balance between historical accuracy and modern acknowledgement that we should have been doing better.

— Mod Sparrow

#mod sasza #mod sparrow #intellectual disability representation #historical fiction #pretending that this answer isn't extremely late.. sorry #tw eugenics #tw ableism

[t-art-c]

"This is not love, Scaramouche..."

CW: Domestic Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Human Trafficking, Manhandling, Self-deprecation, Toxic Cycle, Implied Stalking, and Gaslighting

A/N: GUYS!! Just to remind that I do not condone the actions I write for my yandere oneshots. This is only explorations of how abuse or toxicity affects a person. There may be inaccuracies, but I always try to make it as accurate as possible and always give respect, especially towards victims.

-----

The words you uttered did nothing but make your husband rage. His eyes turned sharper, and his scowl even deeper. He tightened his grip over the whip he has been using to punish you yet again over something menial.

He would always say that it may be menial to you but it is detrimental to him. As the spouse of the Balladeer, Scaramouche, every action you make will be reflected to him. So, every action you do that is not to his taste meant that he married a slob, a whore and every insult under the Sun.

There was this one time when the Jester visited Scaramouche's manor. Your husband was not home at that moment so you decided to be proper host and offer tea to the harbinger.

The Jester had an overwhelming presence that made you shake. So when you were pouring him tea, you have accidentally spilled some over his white coat. With terrified eyes, you bowed your head to the ground and begged for your life.

Fortunately, he spared you and told you that he will have it washed when he leaves. Unfortunately, your husband witnessed the whole thing. He pulled you into an empty room and berated you over how you embarrassed him with your actions.

For the second time of that day, you apologized with your head down and just took all the insults he threw at you.

After taking all the abuse for years, you have finally had enough. You do not even care what would happen to you when you confront him.

Death?

Yes, you had nothing to lose anymore when all he ever did was take everything from you.

"What would you even know about love?"

He went there. In all honestly, you should not have been this surprised, but you can always count on your husband to know how to hurt you.

"More than you ever will..."

Saying it felt freeing. There is not an ounce of fear in your body, not even anger. You felt happy. Without raising your head, you know that he shaking in anger, maybe even grinding his teeth.

A few seconds pass, but nothing happened. There was only an uncomfortable silence surrounding the both of you.

"You do, don't you?"

He walked closer and made you look at him in the eyes.

"But that's what I love about you."

He slapped you hard to the point you fell to your side. The wounds you have gotten prior from his previous punishment throbbed and started bleeding again.

Tears started to form from the corner of your eyes. You held the cheek he slapped and smiled bitterly.

"As I said again, this putrid thing you force on me will never be love."

You stood up from the ground and stared at your husband.

"Every single day, I have to tell myself that what we have is just something other couples go through. But I know deep down, it's wrong, and abnormal."

You walked closer to him and softly held his hands.

"What did I do to deserve this?"

Scaramouche's face softened. He tenderly held your bruised cheek and placed a kiss on it.

"You deserve everything. My love, my wrath, my loneliness, my happiness, every single one of it."

-----

Love truly is a fascinating thing.

How cruel of your husband to choose you to be the receiver of his putrid love. A man who will forever stay young while you grow older and inevitably leave him all alone again.

Maybe, that is why he shows you all of himself. He knows that one day you will not be there by his side to give him comfort. Even if the comfort he feels from you might be just like warmth from an already extinguished bonfire.

You did love this awful husband of yours once upon a time. But now, you do not know what to feel for him. Anger? Sadness? Regret for even meeting him one faithful day?

In a rare occasion where he will allow you to explore the outside world again with him by your side, you have always thought of running away. It will be futile as he is much more stronger and faster than you could ever be. But if you do hypothetically escape, where will you go?

You were a nobody, prior your life with Scaramouche. Not even one person ever knew of your existence. Just some orphan who was able to survive the unforgiving world by stealing from other people. That is until you messed with the wrong person and was taken to a human trafficking ring.

Other orphans like you from the ring had their names taken away. Nobodies who did not bother to care for each other, because caring for someone in a dangerous place meant weakness that can be taken advantage of.

When The Balladeer suddenly visited the ring, you were ecstatic.

Finally, there might be a chance for freedom for you from this wretched place. Finally, a place far better than this one.

You did everything you could to make him notice you. Made yourself look pitiful in hopes that he would glance and choose you.

But, he never did. Instead he chose a young boy from beside you.

"I'll take this one. And make it quick."

"Certainly, my Lord!"

It did not work. Of course, it would not work. Who in their right mind would choose someone as weak as you. The Balladeer probably already have a specific person in his mind.

You were not able to stop the tears from coming out your eyes.

It was probably the most pathetic you have ever felt. Not even once have you cried when you were beaten and starved by your captors. But you just know yourself that you will never be able to escape this place.

This place will be your resting place.

"Hm... I'll take this one too."

In your self-wallowing, you did not even notice that the Balladeer is standing right in front of your cage. Only then you noticed when you were roughly grabbed by the arm and dragged away by his men.

The boy he picked was nowhere to be seen.

In your shock, you can not even verbalize how thankful you are of him. So, you just cried again.

"Again with the crying. I order you to stop that or I'll be sending you back in that hellhole."

You dried your eyes quickly from his threat, in fear that he will make true of his promise. However, the dirt from the shirt you have been wearing since you were taken stung your eyes, which caused you to tear up more.

"Tch. You can't even follow orders properly."

You started to tremble from the glare he sent your way.

"I apologize, my Lord! T-the dirt from my shirt just stung my eyes that's all. I hope you can forgive my mistake!"

Just before he says something, you have arrived at a wooden carriage. Inside, you can see the boy from before curled at the furthest corner. The man gripping your arm let go of it and ordered you to get in.

After that initial interaction with the Balladeer, you have seen him until a year later.

-----

You loved Scaramouche with all your heart. He is probably the only person your heart will ever know to love. Even after everything, your husband will always be the one you adore.

The pathetic, worthless you who will always crawl back to him after every punishment. Seeking his love and forgiveness.

After all, who else would be able to withstand his overbearing, opressive love?

"I will always love you..."

The way you said it was bitter, but accepting.

Your husband only stared as he pulled your head to lay on his shoulder. The scent of his sakura cologne filling your senses. He held you tight as if he was afraid to lose you.

"You know I will never leave you..."

You hugged him as you contemplate about the life you have lived.

"Hm... I will not let you even if you tried."

A laugh went out of your mouth at his response towards you. Your shoulders were shaking as you cried.

-----

It has been a long time since you last saw the Balladeer. It took you some time to fully adapt to your new environment. As a new orphan recruit of the Fatui, you were given a new name by your coworkers.

Pavel.

They told you it meant "small". Which you guess is understandable since you are the shortest of all the recruits. It does not mean you are happy with it.

Work in the Fatui can sometimes be very boring or hectic. It is currently in its hectic stage since you have received news of the Balladeer visiting to check on how things are going.

"Pavel! Can you help me with auditing?"

Lev.

He was the boy you were with when the two of you were bought by the Balladeer. Just like how you were given a nonsensical name, Lev was also a victim of it. Your coworkers said that Lev meant "lion", as they are always reminded of a lion when they see the boy.

Over the course of a year, the two of you have grown closer to the point of seeing each other as family. Although, you two are close, not once have the two of you ever shared about your lives prior the Fatui.

"Alright, which part should I help you with?"

The boy gave you a thankful look. He then handed you another notepad to write into and pointed over a pile of papers on a table not far from him.

"Just those. Don't worry, I already finished most of it. I just want to take a quick break. My head is killing me."

You gave him a pat in the head and let out a sigh.

"Remember to visit the clinic."

He let out a laugh and exited the room.

You proceeded to audit the pile of papers. It was quite peaceful, even if there a bustle of people just outside of the room. Everyone is working hard to await the arrival of their Habinger.

It has been a while since you last saw the Balladeer. No other interactions happened between the two of you after being forced in the carriage.

He probably got his hands full the moment we arrived at Snezhnaya. Even with his youthful face, he is still a cutthroat harbinger.

"To think there's someone lurking in this room"

You jumped from your spot as you heard a voice just behind you. You turned around and saw the person everyone has been preparing for to arrive.

"L-lord Scaramouche!"

You kneeled one leg on the ground as you greeted the Balladeer with respect.

"Rise."

You stood up and maintained yourself to not anger him. Knowing his temperament from what your coworkers have told you, he is not to be messed with.

"What are you currently doing?"

You showed him your notepad.

"I am currently auditing some papers right now, my Lord."

He let out a sound of acknowledgement as he waved his hand.

"Follow me."

Without wasting a second, you walked in front of him and opened the door, then went behind him to follow.

The two of you walked in silence as the people around you stopped what they were doing and kneeled towards their Lord.

"We welcome you, Lord Scaramouche!"

The Balladeer waved his hand and everyone piped down. He spoke of an event that every single Fatui member must attend to. A festival that let those with family to go back home and spend time with them.

Everyone was excited and have started talking amongst themselves after the Balladeer has explained the situation.

The two of you walked back to the room where the two of you met and saw Lev already working on the audit.

"Lord Scaramouche!"

He kneeled and bowed his head.

"Are you the one who was supposed to be auditing?"

The boy gulped from the inquiry.

"Yes, my Lord. I have asked Pavel to cover for me for a while as a I go visit the clinic to get some medications."

The Balladeer glared down at him.

"I order you to never do that again. Do the job given to you, even if you're sick. I don't care what excuses you have."

"A-affirmative, my Lord..."

After all of that, you have never seen Lev again. You were taken by the Balladeer and have started working directly under him.

Your old coworkers who you thought you were close with never interacted with you again. Every time you try to talk to them, they will make an excuse to run away from you.

It made you feel disappointed as you feel alone once again.

-----

"Do you really think my love for you is disgusting?"

Scaramouche's hug constricted you body against him. It is getting more difficult to breathe.

"Yes. It's so disgusting that it makes me want to puke."

Perhaps you have a death wish, but you know yourself that your husband would never let you die until he has his fill of you.

"How brave of you to be truthful to me. But I guess that's what I love about you. Only you will I ever allow to insult me like this."

His grip on you became even more tighter as he place his head on the junction of your neck and shoulder.

A disgusted part of you tells you to push him away, but then there is that lovesick part of you that feels comforted in the pain of his hug. The dichotomy between your emotions leaves you breathless.

He knows how to play with your heart. Maybe he already knew how much he has wrapped you around his finger. He might as well have actually tied invisible strings around your joints like a puppet.

It sometimes makes you feel confused of what you should be even doing. Since everything you have ever done seems to have only inconvenienced him.

"Love is supposed to make me feel safe in your company, Scaramouche. Not once have you ever tried to make me feel safe."

You started to comb his hair with your fingers.

"But for some reason, I feel even more safe knowing that you hurt me. All the insults and the pain you have forsaken me with, I openly accepted"

Scaramouche rubbed your back as he kept his silence.

"We are so different from each other. Yet, we are unfortunately perfect together."

-----

It has been a month since you started working for the Balladeer. He never called you by the name that was given to you by your former coworkers. For some odd reason, he asked for your real name.

"My real name is (Name), my Lord."

It was the name left to you by your mother before abandoning you in the streets as a child. You never had much use of it as nobody would ask a dirty rat like yourself for it.

"(Name)..."

The way the Balladeer whispered your name sent shivers down your spine. Your cheeks started to have a rosy hue from how he kept repeating it under his breath.

It made you feel strange as this is not a befitting behavior from a subordinate.

"If you do not mind me asking, my Lord?"

He stared at you

"Speak."

You clasped your hands together as you finally asked your question.

"May I visit a friend of mine for my day off this coming Saturday?"

The air around suddenly became heavy.

"No, you can not. After all, there's nobody waiting for you anymore."

Even in such an icy environment, sweat started to fall from your forehead.

"Pardon?"

The Balladeer let out a chuckle as he placed his cheek in his hand."

"I have eyes everywhere. What do you think happened to him?"

Without even answering him, you bolted out of his office and ran through the cold weather. You were determined to see the answer for yourself and hope to whichever archon is listening to you to this one time to grant you goodwill.

Your lungs started burning from how much you are inhaling the cold air. But it never even made you stop running as you finally reached the apartment complex specifically built for Fatui agents.

Since the you and Lev came together, they made it so to make the two of you roommates. It was a fairly average room for two, but since you two are always at work, it is kept quite boring. Only Lev's action figures are strewn over the place.

You opened the door with the key you have kept in your person.

"LEV?!"

There was no reply to your call. Only silence and an equally empty room with no warmth. Lev's action figures were nowhere to be seen.

"I guess no one's home."

Is there truly no archon who will ever listen to you? Is this why back in the human trafficking ring, nobody formed friendships with each other?

"Since you've already seen your answer, let's head back."

With nothing else to do in an empty room, you followed the Balladeer back to his office.

The silence in the office was deafening as he signed the papers you have handed to him. Only the noise of his pen scratching the paper surrounds the both of you.

"What if I tell you that I'm meant to be a god? Would you worship me?"

You stared at him.

"If that is what you want from me, my Lord. Then yes, I will worship you."

He blinked at you.

"What a fascinating answer. However, it's not what I'm looking for. And here you wonder why the gods don't listen to the likes of you."

What else does he want from you then?

-----

"I finally have what is rightfully mine. That annoying fox and that dumb traveler made it all too easy."

Scaramouche is currently bandaging the wounds he has inflicted on you while recounting the story of obtaining the electro gnosis. To be frank, you could care less of what he thinks as you do not like gods.

"What's your plan now?"

He glared at you as if you have just asked the stupidest of quesitons.

"Become a god, what else?"

You laughed.

"How boring."

Your husband dropped your arm and stood up from the bed. He carried with him the first-aid kit back to the bathroom. You laid down your bed and await his return.

When he went back, he made you pull the blanket over the two of you.

"I'll not be back for a few weeks. Even if I don't want to, I have to since only that bastard the Doctor can do something about it."

You frowned at him.

"The Doctor is dubious at best. Are you really sure?"

Scaramouche pulled the blanket over the two of you to shut you up.

He may be hundreds of years old, he can never stop being a brat. But you guess, that is one of the few things you find endearing about him. Even if there are more bad things than good things you can see about him, your heart will always beat for him and him only.

You hope this endeavor of his is finally the thing the ends him.

"Even to the end, I will never be apart from you. For you are the only one I have left to lose."

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere scaramouche #tw yandere #yandere genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you

[k-9snursery]

A regressors guide to big feelings

I have recently lost a very close friend of mine to cancer and here are some self care tips (that are more regression based)

⛱️ health care is self care! I know this may be very difficult but please try to continue to brush your teeth and maybe even shower if you can, if not, if your bed is next to a window try to let in some fresh air and open the curtains! Eating is also very important - if you don't think you can get out of bed to eat see if there is someone that can bring you food, and if you can get out of bed, please try to eat and drink water - it doesn't need to be a gourmet meal, a microwaved meal or leftovers is great too!

🛝 try to play! You may feel ridded of creativity but who says you have to be original? Re-enact a scene from your favorite show/movie! If you don't know how to play here is a good video by @angellimbed that teaches you! I also understand many people - especially autistic people such as myself - struggle with make belief but your regression is yours! If the way you play is by lining up your toys or even just holding and appreciating them that's wonderful!

🔱 write down your thoughts! Writing can be tricky and challenging for many like myself but you don't need to worry about how accurate your spelling is or how neat your handwriting is! "Oh but it looks like just a scrawl all over the page when I don't worry about my spelling and handwriting..." You're only little! And big feelings are often private feelings so it isn't like anyone's going to read it! And if you do want people to read it then maybe try typing with autocorrect, whatever works for you to get your feelings down into words! It's also very useful for if you don't want to speak to someone wich is the trickest thing of them all - or if you just need to brain dump.

⭐️ just indulge in something that makes you happy! If being happy means running a marathon - go run that marathon! If being happy means laying in bed with your comfort food and a kids show - go lay in bed with your comfort food and a kids show! Personally I love drama/acting and a really good way I can let out my emotions without feeling silly or overdramatic is to shout lines from plays where people are angry or upset - it makes me a better actor and it's a good outlet! If you like role-playing then you can try it yourself even!

🎠 (this one is mainly about coping with losing someone) let yourself process or "dwell" - this one probably sounds confusing but dwelling can be good! Sure dwelling on all the negative emotions and the bad situation isn't good - but you can dwell on the good times you had with that person, as long as it won't prevent you from creating more good times with other people, and you can dwell on them to keep their memory alive. You don't have to dwell on the fact the nice experiences are over now and rather be happy you had them and now you can make even more happy memories with new and exciting people! Just take 20 minutes out of your day to think about the person you lost, you may cry and feel even sadder than before but it's better to let yourself feel all these emotions along the way rather than block them out and then break!

I may add even more to this later 🪶

#age regressor #agere blog #age dreaming #non community agere #self care #healthcare #coping mechanism #age regression sfw #agere sfw #wholesome #greiving #grief #self love #pet dreamer #pet regression pup #pet dreaming #pet regressor #pet regression #kiddore #agere baby #babyre #baby regression #kid regression #actually autistic #autism #agere moodboard #agere moodboards #age regressing #look after you #its okay

[starry-bi-sky]

more clone^2 memes because i think they're funny

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #clone^2 #danny fenton is not the ghost king #so canon to clone^2 and clone damian the portal that ends up transporting damian to amity park is left pr ambiguous #so really how he got there could be one of many things whether it be through divine intervention or clockwork's doing or hell #it could've also been quite literally the 1 in 1 millionth chance that a natural portal opened up beneath him and sent him to amity #and was a happy accident #but the idea that the laz pits or another adjacent such entity heard damian wanting an older brother (he meant og damian but oops never- #specified) and then sends him to the one person who could fulfill that wish and make him happy at the same time. #was really funny to me within the context of the lilo and stitch meme. the meme can also be seen the other way around with danny as lilo #and damian as stitch. but danny being stitch was infinitely funnier and ~technically~ more accurate imo #danny technically IS a nice angel but also. he's a developing menace to society (just ask wes) and he's going to make damian one too #danny being from the midwest means he has a midwestern accent and thats not something the bats know how to handle when they finally meet hi #hey look at that! my meme making skills are steadily improving. im no longer making the same joke six different times in different formats #those first two images i made a few days ago the rest i made in the last thirty minutes in a spur of clone^2 induced inspiration #and procrastination of writing the cfau rewrite of the first post. we are 10k words deep folks and just barely got past the 1st gala reunio #dunking on the giw is a god-given right and danny WILL pass it down to damian

[royalarchivist]

[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]

Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?

[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*

–

Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.

Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!

Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.

* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.

#Pactw #QSMP #Pac #March 18 2024 #As much as I love keeping people updated about Pac / the other Portuguese-speaking creators #I think I might not make as many transcribed posts for their clips anymore #I just don't think I'm qualified enough to be transcribing things for a language I don't know #like yeah we have the Qlobal Translator and Aypierre's translators to rely on #And I'm always upfront when I'm not 100% sure about a translation #but I've been thinking about it a lot and it kinda makes me feel a bit icky. Idk. #I might be overthinking this but I just I don't want to spread around translations I'm not super confident about #esp. since I know a lot of people cite my clips in analysis posts or link them to other people as resources #and 90% of the time I'm like ''Hell yeah I love seeing people getting a lot of use out of the archive'' #but sometimes I get a bit anxious like ''Did I do a good enough job translating this'' #''Am I ruining someone's entire perception of a conversation or character because I left one word out or mistranslated something?'' #And like I said that's normally not a HUGE concern since if I'm not certain about a translation I just won't post a clip. but you know #idk it might just be the anxiety talking but I really really don't want to spread bad info #Happy to hear other folks' perspective #I'm really grateful for people like Bell and Pix and others who translate clips and I always try to reblog those #but we don't have a ton of people posting clips & translating things on Tumblr since we're so English-centric #which is part of the reason WHY I like sharing clips of the non-English-speaking CCs #but at the same time I want to do an accurate job representing what they're saying #Maybe I'll just start posting things and give a TLDR context of what they're talking about but not a transcript #that way native-speakers can hop in and add translations if that's something they're comfortable doing #and if not then well. at least I'm not sharing something that isn't super accurate #idk I'm just thinking out loud a bit in the tags #But I'm open to hearing other people's thoughts on the matter #Anyways giant rant aside. q!Pac is NOT doing ok rn

[todayisafridaynight]

#rgg #ryu ga gotoku #ryu ga gotoku 7 #yakuza series #yakuza like a dragon #yakuza 7 #masato arakawa #ryo aoki #snap sketches #AH jumpscare #i aint drawn aoki or masato (funny as hell i have to distinguish) in forever BYYYYYEE i miss him. i want him to be even more dead #my favorite genre of masato art is aoki killnig him so its my turn to do that. kinda. in spirit #Understandably its always aoki as the aggressor but i wanted to ask myself Can I Flip It #evidently aoki wasnt happy even with all of his power and all.. it makes me wonder how much his self hatred exists in aoki #A LOT EVIDENTLY LMAOOO but im having issues trying to articulate what i mean #aoki is very much a persona Fake Through And Through so sometimes i wonder if aoki ever gets tired of having to act all the time #he's on edge all the time and constantly trying to figure out how to use people instead of just. chilling LMAO GROW UP #he refuses to let himself be genuine and vulnerable with others yet at the same time he wants the love that comes with that #sure his new persona gives him the life he wanted but its gotta be wild to think 'people only like me for what i can do for them' #its hard to accurately describe what i was thinking while drawing these i just know i like rattling masato in a can #there's just so many layers to him it makes my brain itch SOOOO bad #having the love and sincerity he said he always wanted but not being able to see it because of his own self hatred... wild... #relatable... im gonna throw up... he still sucks tho lol...... #ok bye im gonna contemplate drawing something moody cause i guess it's a moody sunday idk sue me

[waterfallofspace]

don't know how to format this post so welcome to waterfall is craving things and she doesn't know if it's more h-rny or lonely so enjoy a little snippet of what is playing on loop in my mind~

Person A: tshhieew!

Person B: Bless you, poor little thing~

Person A: I'm- eshh'iew! tschh- kngt'shhew! I'm not little!

Person B: Even if you aren't, your sneezes sure are~

Person A, blushing: No they're- eh'tnshiew! aeshh'iee!

Person B, with a smirk: What a poor, sneezy little thing~

#waterfallsnzarios #waterfalltalks #i guess??? idk man waterfallcraves is more accurate #just B taunting them and A being such a little blushy mess by the end #knowing that they ARE little but even if they arent! the sneezes are! they cant fight that! #not like they can fight being little either buutttt~ ;3 #yes im picturing c/huuya but gotta be honest not seeing d/azai as the other #perhaps in a private little bedroom... away from prying eyes and ears... #or perhaps this is just something I crave okay i just- lil with lil snz auhegughguh #im a sucker for a kitten snz and i am! feeling things so welcome to this randomness that does NOT have a point~ #(and yes okay maybe id like to be on either side of this BUT! shut up! i do not!) #(using this as a blog again- starting to get more and more used the idea that like... maybe i DO want attention???) #(always knew i craved attention but like.... always used to it being the kind of attention that i GIVE to others and maybe i get something) #(but not used to like... actual genuine attention thats just for me and that isnt kinda... idk- you give me things? so i give bak?) #(gonna be so honest!! i do not feel cute! most of the time! and usually thats okay! i like being a lil chaos gremlin :3) #(buuuuuut recently been having more friends call me cute and idk!!! maybe its not the worst thing to get to be a lil soft sometimes~) #(ANYWAYS blog post over im so sorry to anyone who read these tagssssss but here is a lil snzario that hopefully makes up for it!!)