#I got hate for this for making her “not a poc anymore”

[the-gateway-to-madness]

As I talked about in this post, I think Wish's plot would have been more emotionally engaging and complete with the inclusion of the star as a shapeshifter boyo, and Asha becoming a star like him to remain with him. SO here's her design!

I wanted a natural hairstyle rather than her braids to try and get a look like a nebula, and also because I suck at drawing braids and I didn't want to butcher them. I did my best to research Amazigh dress and went for a design I found pretty, though I'm not sure how accurate it actually is. The reference I found had tassels, and I thought to replace them with little star-shaped ornamentation. Maybe they're still tassels and just funky, idk.

The notes in the piece, transcribed:

Based on blue stars, rather than yellow stars like the OG star

Her freckles glow

Her brown eyes have an added golden gradient, and possibly glow in the dark?

Genesius/Starboy, for comparison:

[patricia-taxxon]

re: your last ask about feeling threatened by transmascs, as someone who technically i guess counts as transmasc, im sorry that others similar to me have made you feel unsafe. im not the same anon im just scared to post publically since im also a poc and plural and i know theyd love to rip me a new one if i spoke in opposition to them lol. im seeing them in the notes already jumping to conclusions and saying you were "thinking before speaking" and crying infighting, but how come that is the first response to seeing a transfem express very general discomfort or fear, after publically and repeatedly facing abuse and mistreatment from transmascs? the same people who try to socially murder you every time they disagree with something you say are mad that you dont like being kicked down anymore and feel apprehensive to interact with them. genuinely some white guilt level of sensitivity going on. i dont feel safe around white transmascs either at this point. other transmascs reading this post i genuinely need you guys to examine WHY she (and other transfems, especially on this platform) does not feel safe instead of immediately feeling butthurt. "infighting" is not "i have a rational fear after experiencing firsthand relentless online harassment specifically by transmisogynistic transmascs", patricia is not saying that she hates them anywhere or is causing a divide by expressing her fear. the same way that cis women are not "infighting" with men when they express fear after being abused. the people who ARE infighting are the transmisogynistic transmascs, that is who you need to call out. assuming otherwise is completely missing the point, but i have low hopes for people on this platform to examine their gut responses and biases.

ending this on a nice note, i hope this wasnt out of line and i didnt say anything wrong, i just woke up and got really mad that someone baited you with that ask and now the exact transmascs youre afraid of are about to do it all again. whoever asked that wanted this response to probably make some gotcha. love your music and im wishing yall the best with your plurality 🙏

Thank you for the kind words, but I don't think I was baited. I was emboldened by close friends to speak up instead of just deleting the ask, and I've been further emboldened by both the negative and positive responses. The instant not-all-men-ism and telling me to get offline because misogyny doesn't exist in real life and immediate typecasting as an angry man-hating feminist in proper 2014 reddit fashion, it's sobering, I guess. It's nice to see others having that same sober response, though. I never know how to respond to these long asks that are just people voicing agreement.

[andreawritesit]

I saw that your requests are open and that you, like me, are pissed off with what they are doing to Daemon. Soooo, can I get a Daemon x POC (or ambiguous appearance) fem!reader where she is with the Blacks, but seeing Rhaenyra's incompetence (and how she has no respect for the lords who fight for her, and the fact that she trusts Mysaria but not Daemon), she tells her some hard truths to her face and goes to Harrenhal to help him, please? (It can be romantic or not, I just need this man to be valued, loved, and cared for).

Fandom: House of the Dragon Pairing: None (minor one sided reader x Daemon Targaryen) Words: 1,569 Warnings: Mentions of Luke's death, Blood and Cheese

As much as I hate show Rhaenyra, I ship Daemyra quite a lot and I like to believe Daemon would never cheat Rhaenyra. So the romance is one sided and more innocent in nature.

You were sitting at the table, clenching your fists as tightly as possible. Rhaenyra once again shut down any suggestions from her council members, with you being one of them. Despite all of your combined efforts, the Queen just didn’t want to understand the gravity of the situation you all were in. The Greens were amassing greater armies and more holdings all across the realm. Yet Rhaenyra kept refusing to take any action. Prince Jacaerys had suggested looking for people with Targaryen blood so they could sort out more dragon riders. The suggestion was a wise one. And finally, Rhaenyra took some steps to participate in the war. And yet, she kept ignoring her biggest asset – her husband Prince Daemon, and his dragon Caraxes. They had left for Harrenhal days ago and yet there was no word. Clearly, the King consort had some disagreements with the Queen. Irrespective of your countless requests, Rhaenyra kept dismissing any possibility of sending a raven to Daemon. It was frustrating you to no end.

Prince Daemon had always been a special person to you. Ever since you had seen him at the tourney, you had admired the prince. He might be called reckless by many but he was in truth a Targaryen through and through – stubborn, yes but powerful, brave, and smart. He knew what needed to be done and when. He had suggested taking Kings Landing as soon as you received the news of usurping. But Rhaenyra had refused. Even after her son, the little prince Lucerys was murdered in cold blood, the Queen had not taken any action. Instead, she had banished the only person who sought any revenge for the dead prince and had even gone to Kings Landing to speak with the woman partially responsible for his death. You couldn’t believe her audacity when she had disappeared for days and then returned nonchalantly as if nothing had happened. Even now, Rhaenyra sat in her chair, hands folded in front of her, doing nothing.

Your eyes fell on the woman standing next to her and you suppressed the urge to throw your glass at her. Mysaria. The woman who had been selling secrets to Otto Hightower for the past decade, the woman who had helped in usurping Rhaenyra’s throne, the woman who had love for only herself. She stood by the Queen’s side instead of her King Consort. It was unnatural and extremely stupid of Rhaenyra to put her trust in this woman. A loud sigh came out of Prince Jacaerys’ mouth as he got up and excused himself out of the room. Poor Prince.  It seemed like only he and Daemon were willing to do what was necessary. When your father had pledged toward Rhaenyra as the heir to the Iron Throne, you had also sworn to always side with her, and stay loyal to her. But she was making it very difficult with her bad decision-making.

Mysaria whispered something in Rhaenyra’s ear that made her smile and your blood boil. Who knows what she was plotting? You couldn’t take it anymore and stood up from your chair abruptly. “Your Grace”, you addressed her directly, “May I talk to you in private?”

Rhaenyra glanced at you and then at Mysaria who gave her the tiniest of nods. She nodded back and got up from her chair. “Of course, my Lady. Everyone, leave us.”

The council members looked uneasy but left nonetheless. Mysaria was last to leave. While walking out, she purposely nudged your shoulder and gave you a skeptical look. You couldn’t help the eye roll that happened in response. Once she left, you turned toward the Queen.

“Your Grace, forgive me for my bluntness but you’re making a huge mistake.”

Rhaenyra’s eyebrow shot up and she asked in a serious tone, “Mistake? What sort of mistake?”

“Trusting the word of Mysaria. Do not forget she is a self-serving woman, not that there is anything wrong with it. But as a monarch, you’re supposed to be the one making decisions. At the end of the day, Lady Mysaria will always look out for herself first. Who’s to say she won’t jeopardize our position in the war tomorrow if it favors her?”

She listened to your words quietly. After a moment, she replied, “Anyone can turn on me anytime. How is she any different?”

“You don’t understand. We’re here to honor our and our fathers’ oaths. We’re here because we have accepted you as our Queen because we believe in you. Has she sworn to you?”

“No, but-“

“Then how can you trust her so easily? She was once close to Prince Daemon and look at how quickly she turned on him. She does not hold loyalty to anyone. Giving her so much power over yourself will prove to be risky.”

“What do you suggest I do, then? Send her away?”

Her tone irked you. It sounded awfully defensive.

“No, Your Grace. She’s an important ally to have. All I’m saying is that don’t get too close to her. She might use your weaknesses against you tomorrow. She has said it herself, she is on no one’s side. She only looks out for herself. Instead of indulging in her manipulation, you should call Prince Daemon back.”

Rhaenyra’s face contorted at your words into one of anger. She took a deep breath and sat on her chair. “Daemon this. Daemon that. I do not need him!”

“Yes. Yes, you do. He has always been our greatest strength. If he was at Rook’s Rest with Princess Rhaenys, she would’ve been alive today.”

“He ordered the murder of a child in my name! He sullied my reputation behind my back.”

“He avenged your son. And hasn’t he told you he didn’t order them to specifically kill the child? Why won’t you trust his word?”

“Because he’s ambitious. He has always wanted the throne-“

You couldn’t control your anger anymore. She was being obnoxious.

“I’m sorry but you’re wrong. If he had wanted the throne for himself, there were many times he could’ve killed King Viserys when he was still his heir. Or he could’ve killed you when you were young and unsuspecting. You constantly misunderstand him and yet question his loyalty?”

Rhaenyra scoffed and took a sip of wine from her glass. “What do you know of Daemon? I have known him forever. He only ever thinks of himself.”

“That sounds awfully like Mysaria. Are you sure you know him at all? I might not know him well but even I understand that he has been loyal to you always. He married you at such a time when you and your claim were the weakest. He stood loyally by your side and crowned you himself. And yet you claim he’s self-serving. It seems to me the self-serving one is you. You asked him to marry you when you needed and now you try to push him aside?”

“How dare you-“

“How dare I? How dare you disrespect all the Lords and soldiers who are here to fight on your behalf? You ignore their sacrifices, their wisdom. Your ignorance blinds you, Rhaenyra.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes were wide open and she opened her mouth to say something but closed it again. It seemed her anger gave way to something else—doubt, perhaps, or fear.

“I speak these words not out of disloyalty, but out of love for the cause we fight for,” you continued. “But if you continue down this path, you will lose everything. Including me.”

You got up from your chair and left the hall, leaving a stunned Rhaenyra in your wake.

The journey to Harrenhal was harrowing, with the road fraught with danger and uncertainty. You pressed on, determined to reach your destination despite the trials. As dawn broke, the ruins of Harrenhal loomed before you, a stark contrast to the grandeur of Dragonstone. Its charred walls and crumbling towers stood as a testament to the power of dragons and the wrath they could unleash. Your heart was heavy, but your resolve remained unshaken. It was obvious that Rhaenyra wasn’t going to see reason soon, so why waste your time with her? And so here you were, at Harrenhal, about to pledge your loyalty to the King Consort.

Daemon was overseeing the fortifications, his presence commanding and intimidating. When he saw you, a flicker of surprise crossed his face. As you walked closer, you saw his face and a gasp escaped your lips. His complexion was paler than usual, and his eyes no longer held the flames of dragonfire you so admired.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone gruff.

“I came to help,” you replied, meeting his gaze.

“Rhaenyra let you go?” His tone held suspicion.

“I left of my own accord,” you said. “She needs to learn some hard truths, and I need to be where I can make a difference.”

The hard lines of his face eased as he stepped closer, his gaze softening as he studied your face for a moment. “You’ve always had a sharp tongue and a brave heart. I could use both.”

A smirk formed on his face, and he gestured towards the ruins of the castle. “Welcome to hell then.”

You took in the sight of Harrenhal, its desolation stark against the morning light. The once-grand fortress was now a place of shadows and echoes, a fitting backdrop for the battles to come.

[reel-fear]

Genuinely so curious who Mike thinks is gonna be buying The Cage or the new DCTL GN bc with the way he tweets as far as he's concerned, it's not gonna be:

The queer people he has actively admitted he will never show any representation of in the games.

2. The POC he has actively fought against representing in his franchise. [Who he also mocked for thinking they would be represented in his franchise]

3. The Bendy fandom which has always been concerned with topics of diversity esp in the sense of queer people since its creation. Who he has responded to really poorly esp in regards to the GN.

4. The fans who critique him. [He blocked me for doing so lol]

5. His fans in general who he tweets about like this currently. [He's being vague about why people were mad at him or sent him 'nasty messages' because if you actually looked into why you'd see he was in the wrong. Either way, a very hateful way to speak abt ur own fanbase.]

Reminder while Mike is trash talking his fans he has always treated them rather poorly. The fans who won the fanart contest for Chapter 5 never got their posters actually in game due to it being rushed. Not only was chapter 5 a big slap to the face story wise, but it was literally so rushed he couldn't be bothered to add in the art his fans gave him for his game FOR FREE. [Meatly blames this on a crazy timeline, reminder him and Mike are the literal ceos of this company. The proposal of future updates here is also pretty cruel considering Mike nowadays happily admits he corrupted Chapter 5's source code and therefore literally can't update it At All currently. Because he is a moron]

At least they got to be in Boris and the dark survival, and by that I mean that was the Only game they got to be in so far, isn't that just treating your fans like you love them? Shoving their hard work into a spin off game almost nobody has played or addresses much. [Hell, who knows if with the Lone Wolf rebrand they'll even stay there. In which case they'll be in None of the games, only in the credits of BATIM]

6. The Bendy fans who just generally disagree with him on stuff. Like the new ink demon design where there is literally a public poll showing people generally prefer the old one.

7. The Bendy fans who can see he is actively lying to them. To their fucking faces.

He says this has always been the case, but screenshots and links to tweets regarding the books being canon prove it was not. Does he really think bendy fans are stupid or something? [Unless he's admitting here he lied to Kress when he told her the books were canon which sounds worse!]

8. Anyone who doesn't like the idea of giving money to a guy who laid off tons of employees then afterwards thought it was a great idea to express his anti-union views! Also brag about how good of an employer he was, according to his employees, he was not!

So in summary; Mike is an awful person who has not learned anything from the awful things he did. I will not be purchasing The Cage because, combined with this and his absolute refusal to take any kind of critique or see any differing interpretation of his franchise, I have no reason to think my problems with the franchise will ever be addressed or fixed. I probably will pirate The Cage along with any future Bendy Products [Including the movie] and will do my best to avoid giving it any kind of monetary support. Unless this changes any time soon, I can't see myself making anymore positive Bendy posts soon.

Mike has just managed to make it so hard to speak positively or optimistically of this franchise when he's so willing to broadcast how little he cares about it or its fans. I'm at the point where I refuse to pull any of my punches with my problems with it. What's the point of trying to play nice with my critique when either way the people creating it don't care?

So with this post, I want to invite anyone who feels similarly about the franchise to tell me, make a post or send an ask talking about how all of this makes you feel. It may not change how things are, but genuinely seeing other people share my feelings of anger makes me feel better. It feels nice to see when other people share our same concerns and worries. I'd also love to know if anyone else thinks they'll be avoiding purchasing Bendy products over this.

I'm not forcing anyone to participate in it nor trying to say anyone who doesn't supports mike but genuinely maybe if we can collectively decide to boycott things like the movie, graphic novel and The Cage... It might at least make the bendy devs acknowledge how much they have destroyed their own fandom's faith and trust in them.

The way Mike tweets about his actions like he had no control over why people were mad at him at least proves to me he takes NONE of it back nor regrets it. If you didn't know about his actions and only went off his tweets, you would be led to believe Mike has been needlessly picked apart by fans over things he couldn't control [or in his own words, had his words twisted and taken out of context]. That is not how you speak about your actions if you have actually learned better from them.

anyway, that has been my bendy dev callout post. This is an open invitation to anyone feeling similarly upset about the way the franchise is going to talk about it. It's genuinely nice to see how people feel about this and the more we talk about the more it's likely the bendy devs are forced to address our concerns. I don't think they will but hey, that's why I'm not gonna support them with my money anymore nor am I gonna be nice to them in any content I make critiquing Bendy. I mean I'm also basically making this post just in case anyone asks me Why I feel this way towards to bendy devs/as a way to respond to anyone who thinks I am too harsh in my critique in the future.

As always, it seems the best part of Bendy isn't actually anything about canon but about what the fan's are creating with the ideas Bendy failed to do anything interesting with.

Also the books, the books slap.

[starrclownshazbinblog]

I am probably gonna regret this/hj

But

Valentino facts and lore?

No one has had the guts to ask about Valentino. Good job.

TRIGGERWARNING: VALENTINO, SEXUAL ASSULT, DRUGGING, RAPE, ITHER GROSS AND NASTY TOPICS

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Valentino died somewhere around the late 70's

Valentino doesn't let his toxic traits show. He's very secretive about them so he can drag more people into his business.

Valentino forces himself on Vox alot. He doesn't understand why Vox doesn't like him.

Valentino doesn't love Vox but he hates the idea of someone else "having" Vox. (Mostly Alastor.)

Valentino had a very toxic homelife. His father is a stereotypical macho man that raised Valentino to be a "man."

Despite being Hispanic, Valentino is pretty racist to almost everyone.

Valentino makes date rape drugs. Thata a small part of his profit margins.

Valentino doesn't exactly care for his girls well being as long as they do their job.

Valentino is trying to force Angel under him. He wants Angel to work for him so he can control him.

Valentino doesn't like Velvette or Vix but he puts up with them for more territory and power. (Also his unhealthy obsession with Vox.)

Valentino is extremely jealous and possessive in the worst way possible. He takes everything to the extreme all the time.

Valentino doesn't like to go to the overlord meetings. He sees them as a waste of time and not something he should be forced to do.

Valentino is in hell for exactly what your thinking.

Valentino doesn't believe in global warming.

Valentino doesn't go out of his way to hurt kids but he will if necessary.

Valentino forces un realistic beauty standards on his girls. Most are starved for this reason.

Valentino is pretty well built. Not like Angel but he has some muscle.

Valentino is about a foot or so taller than Angel.

Valentino is a heavy smoker.

Valentino has shattered Vox's electronical mask before. He saw parts of Vox's face but not all.

Valentino genuinely doesn't mind Velvette. He can get handy with her too. She shuts that shit down quick.

I dont wanna talk about Valentino anymore. I feel like I need to shower.

(Edit: I got a comment on this and I wanna clarify. When I said that despite being Valentino being Hispanic he's still pretty racist, I want implying that you can't be racist if your a Poc. You can be racist to litteraly anyone with a race. What I was trying to say is despite being racially discriminated against, Valentino still does it too others. I wanna clarify cause I now see how that comes off. That what I ment.)

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

[ultfreakme]

and on our agenda is JonJay. How many times have I told myself not to go under comments on Tumblr, but this time misfortune took me by surprise. It was about Bernard, I decided to go into the comments, which was my main mistake. The author of the post wrote that Jay is worse than Bernard, since he can control the minds of other people (I don’t remember this at all, I know about his ability to pass through walls and any solid objects) and how Jon can meet with him. God, there was no explanation, but if this person meant that Jay forced Jon to fall in love with him by penetrating his mind, then I'm leaving this planet. How blind do you have to be when you read a comic book so as not to read that Jon agreed to help Jay himself, since people needed help. And he didn’t fall in love with him right away either, rather after Jay met the superfamily, like, yes. I’m still It's still killing me that people think Jay is the worst option for Jon, although if you ask my opinion, they couldn't find each other better. Jay literally exposed himself for the sake of Jon, what else do they need for them to believe in his sincerity. By the way, they don’t have any thoughts about the setup from Nicky to Damian. Sorry, but it still really annoys me, like ,how so. I'm still wondering why people love Bernad and Nika more than Jay. Maybe you have an answer, I don't know. (I love them too, but this injustice is killing me)

Anon, I get you so much. I answered something like this before but I love ranting and the Jon Kent tag is filled with Jay hate so I'll do it again. The reason why people hate Jay is:

Racism and Orientalism

People think Jon should've ended up with Damian

He's associated with Jon's age-up

Potential covert biphobia

None of the Jay haters have actually read SOKE. The 'mind control' rumors started spreading and becaus basically 70% of tumblr DC fans haven't actually touched more than 3 issues of the comic books and out of context panels in their lives, they don't know that Jay's NEVER 'seduced' Jon. Which is, by the way, a classic offensive stereotype assigned to Asian characters; that Asian characters, especially ones who are into men are all seducers. This is primarily applied to women but now its being applied with Jay.

It's funny because Jon WAS affected to be attracted by an actual telepathic character; Imra, aka Saturn Girl.

And this is where the biphobia comes in because Saturn Girl dated Jon, it was a disaster fire relationship in a book that mischaracterized both of them.It's implied that Imra accidentally used her powers to make Jon be into her, but NO ONE talks about it because it's a seemingly heterosexual relationship. Also she's a white blond girl. It's far easier to target the sparse Asian rep we get.

Nika and Bernard also don't get as much hate because of this reason. People can talk around it all they want, but they are more loved and accepted because they are white. If either of them were POC, they'd be getting the same treatment.

The DamiJon shippers for some reason got it into their heads that Damian x Jon is going to be a thing and now they're mad that they're headcanons aren't real. Like I can't even be kind about this because these assholes have been nothing but racist, clogging up Jon's tag by not tagging anything right, and have also attacked actual content creators to the point they've had to respond to them to tell them to STOP.

Nothing will get these people to like Jay, because they don't actually care about comics, storytelling, the messages these stories bring, the characters, or anything really. They just care that their headcanon vision of Jon's gone and it isn;t easy to project their "sunshine baby" tropes on Jon anymore since now he's actually got adventures of his own outside of Damian. And those adventures happen to be with his boyfriend Jay.

[neon-u-dumb-shxtty-child]

Oooo 9, 10, 13, and 22 for disventure camp, mouthwashing, and/or fnaf? You can pick and choose between each fandom for all of them if wanted lol

Oooooo imma just do it for all of them I love all these fandoms :))))

9) worst past of canon

Disventure Camp: how characters got shafted or completely derailed just for a crappy storyline. I will never forgive the vilification of Ally and Emily just for Jake and Trevor’s storylines

Mouthwashing: I honestly like everything about this game but I guess mostly playing through japarty’s pov? I hate him I want him beat up

Fnaf: how convoluted the lore became 😭

10) worst part of fanon

Disventure Camp: how female and poc characters are treated compared to the white or queer men in the series by the fans. I may love Aiden and Jake and Tom, but I cannot stand how the fans talk about Ally, Ellie, Gabby, Grett and all the other ladies 😭

Mouthwashing: jambalaya defenders, people who either fully defend Curly and think he does no wrong or people who completely villainize him, people treating Daisuke like a baby when he’s a grown man with dick and balls, and people who only focus on Anya’s SA as her only character trait. Like- she’s silly! She makes jokes, she rages when she loses at board games, she wants to go to medical school- I LOVE HER SHES SO POOKIE

Fnaf: anyone who sexualizes the minor characters and ships them with the adults. That or ships like Michael/Ennard, Crying Child/Nightmares, etc

13) worst blorbo-fication

Disventure Camp: honestly none of the characters cause objectively most of them are pretty cool and have decent enough reasonings for people liking them

But for me personally Riya and Alec- I just don’t like them but I don’t hate them they’re cool characters 😭

Mouthwashing: jabortion

Fnaf: I have no idea anymore 😭

22) your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

Disventure Camp: idk why but I love disventure camp’s character designs. It might not be ignored by a bunch of people but I love how the characters look

Mouthwashing: Polle is actually a really cute mascot Im sad that people only make jokes about jdiddy wanting to frack him 😢

Fnaf: sound design. I know people have said it but I love how Fnaf uses sound

[ethicalvinyls]

ellie x fem!reader

reader is Tommy and maria's adopted daughter Who's never been outside of jackson and also has a BIG crush on ellie

Tommy decides One day to invite his Brother ,Joel , over for a family dinner where while the olders are talking , reader and ellie are in reader's room where She tells the auburn haired girl her Wish (going to a real Mall)

funny thing ellie found One and decides It would be a perfect date to ask reader out ,they sneak out and ellie brings reader to this Mall where they have a almost-death experience since our smartass ellie forgot to clear out of infected some shops , they make It out alive but reader ends up with a medium/big wound (NOT A ZOMBIE BITE PLEASE) and they're like " well good luck to us explaining that to Maria"

They go home to find very angry and upset Brothers +Maria

(if you like It i also have an idea for a Little part 2 AND ALSO SORRY FOR BAD ENGLISH🤍)

THIS WAS SO GOOD??? HELLO??? OFC! the first part will be the dinner with a bit of an argument, and the second part will be the mall. we'll see how long we can drag this on for. thank you for this anon!

this is a fem!oc x Ellie williams fic. she's a poc. sorry if this diverges from what you wanted, I just wanted to write something in first pov instead of YN. (is that okay??)

warnings: conversation about death. drinking. some kissing. that's about it.

PART II

I fucking hate the apocalypse. Then again, who enjoys it? Besides psychos testing out their survival skills. 

The apocalypse means losing people: people you’ve known since birth, people you’ve known since your mind could render memories, and people who you never got to know due to your young mind. Like my mom. Young and full of hope, which is something everyone says when they talk about the dead mom they don’t remember. But from what I hear, that’s what she was like. 

Her name was Poppy, which means that I might’ve had weird grandparents. And because my name is Clementine, that means I might’ve had a weird mom. From the pictures tacked onto my wall, it seems so: she had blue hair as a teenager, she dyed it every so often from shades of pink to purple and orange. She had piercings all over her ears and a couple on her face, and she had tattoos that littered her soft tan skin. 

I have… nothing. I’m bare. All that I have is curly hair and tan skin from my mom, and an odd shade of hazel eyes from my dad. I don’t match myself whatsoever. But I guess that’s why I’m like my mom–I don’t make sense. 

But the one person who has made an effort to make me make sense is Ellie–Joel’s ‘daughter,’ who isn’t truly his daughter because they are not related whatsoever. She’s just been around him since she was 14. I make an effort to make that known, because people around town consider me Tommy and Maria’s daughter, which then implies that I’m Joel’s niece. Which I am not. Because if I was, that would make the entire situation of me liking Ellie sort of… incest-y. 

But me and Tommy and Maria are not blood related, and me and Ellie and Joel and whatever this family is, are not related either. I’ve just been taken in by Tommy and Maria since I was three years old.They care for me like their own. And for that, I’m grateful. 

Tommy enjoys inviting Joel and Ellie to dinner at least once a week; because we’re a group of  put together people that have been through more shit than we probably should’ve. And every week, they come over. Sometimes with food, sometimes with alcohol. Maria allows me to drink because she says I’m mentally old enough. That and from what Tommy says, laws don’t really exist anymore, so they can’t really go to jail for letting me drink underage.

This week, Maria has made lasagna and her famous salad, which is just a mixture of pickled vegetables tossed in oil and goat cheese with lettuce. It really is good, but I won’t lie and say I haven’t gotten a bit tired of it. I eat it anyway, because Maria is a marvelous cook and I’d rather stab my eye than ask her to make something different. 

I set up the table and lay out five wine glasses. I usually sit next to Ellie while the old adults sit next to each other around the end of the table. I somehow still get nervous sitting next to her even after four years of knowing one another. It starts off with a rumbling in my stomach, and then a batch of butterflies find their way into my chest and absorb all of the liquids spewing into my body. I can’t really stop it, but at least they don’t attack my vocal chords. 

“You done?” Tommy asks as he walks into the room with two bottles of wine. This week, Ellie is making her famous garlic rolls, which pair amazingly with Maria’s lasagna. Because she never makes them, I eat one too many and end up tipsy and bloated. 

I nod and grab the bottles from his hands. I set them in the center alongside the other bottle of wine and one singular bottle of whiskey. This family drinks too much, but no one seems to care. It’s a Friday, after all. 

“How does it look?” I ask, waving a hand over the table. 

Tommy smiles, which force his wrinkles to dance about his face. “It looks wonderful like always, sweetheart.” He comes around and wraps an arm around my shoulders. I pat his hand and lean my head against his. 

I love Tommy–he’s truly my father even though I’ll never call him dad. I guess he knows that, but he’s fine with it. I call him ‘My Tommy’ to everyone I know, which is somehow more special than the title ‘dad.’ 

“Awe, look at you guys,” Maria says as she enters the dining room. She places her lasagna and salad in the center of the table and can’t stop her smile from spreading along her entire face at the sight of us. “My Tommy and my Clem. You are adorable.” 

I kiss Tommy’s cheek and pull away, smiling back at Maria who has now run around the table to kiss Tommy. I don’t watch as she kisses him, but I hear the peck. 

 I take one last look at the table, trying to see if there’s anything I need to perfect. But as nothing comes to mind, there’s a knock at the door. I turn to look at Tommy and Maria, but quickly leap towards the door when I find them kissing. 

I already know who it is, so I don’t check the peephole. I unlock the door and twist the handle, opening it up to see Joel and Ellie on the other side. Joel holds a bottle of whiskey and Ellie holds a dish of rolls. 

I smile and take the whiskey from Joel. “I don’t think we need anymore of this, but thank you.” 

They step inside and I shut the door behind them. “There’s no such thing as too much whiskey.” 

“Or wine,” Ellie states, which draws me over to her. 

I look at her and smile. “Well wine, no. Whiskey, maybe.” 

Her hair that’s tossed into a low bun shakes along with her head. Some tendrils of hair fly into her face and I fight against my fluttering stomach not to push them out of my face. To fight it, I look away and take the whiskey to the dining table. 

Tommy watches me place the whiskey next to the plenty of other bottles and chuckles. “Thank you brother but that might be too much.” 

“That’s what I said,” I tell him. “Do you want me to take it to the kitchen instead?” 

Tommy shakes his head. “Leave it. It’s a Friday and I’m sure we’ve all had a rough week.” 

I nod even though I don’t do much around Jackson. I’m not really allowed to go out on patrol like Ellie. My mom died that way. Maybe not riding around safely like Ellie, but she died out on patrol. And ever since I was old enough to take on tasks, I was labored with tending to the farm animals. 

I have never gone outside of the walls of Jackson. I’ve begged Tommy and Maria, but they always say no. We’ve even gotten into fights about it, which have led me to nights in Ellie’s room, where she tells me stories of what she’s seen out there. And some of those stories have included a mall. 

Because of her stories, I have dreamed about sneaking away and finding that said mall. Even though I know it won’t happen, I dream about it–because how harmful can a dream be? 

“Alright, has everyone washed their hands?” Maria asks. 

Tommy and Joel nod but Ellie and I look over at one another, shaking heads. I head into the kitchen with her behind me and the butterflies come out in full effect, knocking into the walls of my stomach. 

I eject soap into my hands and turn on the sink, quickly shoving my hands underneath the slow stream to get some bubbles forming. As I knead the soap into my hands, Ellie clears her throat. I look over at her with a smile and she begins a conversation. 

“How are you doing?” she asks. 

I nod. “Good. So far, I’m doing good.” 

“Has that guy Jacob been bothering you?” she asks, referring to this one guy around our age that can’t seem to stop pestering every girl in Jackson. He used to catcall me everyday during the summer. I wore shorts and thin shirts so I wouldn’t overheat, and he’d come over whistling at me, hoping I’d feed into his delusions. 

I never told him I wasn’t into his type, so he kept coming onto me. Until a couple weeks ago when I punched him so hard that he fell back and got a concussion. I guess that gave him the memo. 

I wash the suds out of my hands as I shake my head. “He hasn’t talked to me since you know what.” 

She laughs and takes my spot by the sink. “That was badass, by the way,” she tells me as the soap suds up in her hands. 

My cheeks become hot and I laugh. “Thanks,” I say, “you’ve told me that quite a couple times.” 

Her cheeks heat up and swell with blood, but I try not to think of it. Instead, I focus on her hands and the way the soap begins vanishing from her fingers. The new tattoos that tread down her hands come into full effect and I have to turn away. 

“I say it ‘cause it’s true,” she tells me as she dries her hands on her jeans. 

I shrug. “It’s no biggie.” 

“What’s no biggie?” Joel asks as he steps into the kitchen. 

“Me punching Jacob,” I tell him. 

He laughs and grabs a couple more napkins from the counter. “That was bad ass, by way.” 

Ellie and I turn to one another and laugh. Joel, as confused as he is, turns away and re-enters the dining room, where we follow him into and sit down for dinner. 

We’re three bottles of wine into dinner and I’ve had about two very full glasses. Even though I’ve been allowed to drink around Tommy and Maria since I turned 17, I haven’t gained a high enough tolerance. So now I drunkenly sit in my seat with one of Ellie’s garlic rolls in my hand. 

Tommy and Joel are laughing at something Maria said, and Ellie is staring me down. 

“You don’t think you’ve had enough to drink?” she asks as she glances at my wine glass. 

I shrug. “You want some?” 

She shrugs. 

“Have it,” I tell her. 

She chugs the rest and places the glass next to her, as if to say, ‘Now you can’t get any more.’ I’m fine with that, so I chow down on the garlic roll and listen to the adults. 

This runs for about ten minutes before the conversation is redirected towards the teenagers. “So,” Maria says, “how are you girls?” 

I glance at Ellie and I catch her looking back at me. Her red cheeks make a re-appearance and I mistake it for the wine and whiskey. Ellie looks back at Maria and smiles. “We’re good. Well–I’m good. I’ve been doing fine on patrols and all that.” She turns to me again and with her red cheeks and perfectly molded lips, asks, “And you, Clem?” 

I shake out of my drunken thoughts and crookedly smile. “It’s been fine on the farm.” 

Joel glances between me and Ellie and chuckles. “You hate it at the farm, don’t you?” 

I shrug. I pick at the leftover pieces of dead lettuce on my plate and try to find words that don’t come off as bitchy. But I fail. The words tumble out of my mouth before I can slap a hand over my lips. “Nothing new ever happens and I can’t do anything else, so yeah, I kinda do hate it.” 

Maria sighs and I look up at her. “You know you can’t go on patrol, Clem.” 

“Well I can’t do anything else here either.” 

“Clementine, don’t start your arguing,” Tommy warns. 

I scoff. “I’m not arguing, I’m just trying to understand why you won’t let me go on patrol.” 

“Because–” Maria starts. 

“Because what? Ellie goes on patrol!” 

“That’s different,” Joel mutters. 

I avert my gaze towards him and ask, “How? How is it different?” 

“Your mom died while out on patrol,” he continues. 

“From what I know, combat skills aren’t hereditary. Y’all can teach me! Ellie can teach me.” 

Ellie stays silent. I suddenly  feel bad for jamming her into our conversation. She sits next to me and places her hand on my hand, forcing my trembling fingers to die down. She leans in and tries to whisper something in my ear, but I shove her away and continue with the conversation between me and the adults. 

“Stop trying to fight this, Clementine,” Tommy tells me. 

“But you can teach me! How do you know I’ll die if you don’t teach me how to defend myself?” 

“Your mother knew how to defend herself,” Maria says, but before she can continue, I cut her off. 

“Okay then! So teach me how to defend myself.” 

“But she was stupid and got herself killed. And I’d rather keep you locked in Jackson than have you do the same.” 

“So I’m stupid?” I ask. The color drains out of my face and leaves me as pale as a ghost. I’ve always been mistaken for Tommy and Maria’s daughter due to my skin color, but now that my color has drained from my body, I feel like everything that used to connect me to this couple is gone. “You think that because my mom died stupidly, I’ll do the same?” 

Maria shuts her eyes and pulls herself away from the table. She stands up and gathers her and Tommy’s plates. “We’re not talking about this. Talk to your Tommy and leave me out of it.” 

Tommy glances at me and I look away, pulling myself away from the table and fleeing. I trip over the chair and try kicking it away, but Ellie latches her hand onto my arm and pulls me around the tipping chair. 

She helps me up the stairs as my vision becomes blurred and once we enter my bedroom, I flop onto my bed. She shuts my door and I instantly sob. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” Ellie whispers as she plops down next to me and rubs her hands along my spine. “You’re okay, Clem.” 

I shake my head. “Fuck them!” I exclaim. “They’ve kept me locked up in Jackson my entire life and expect me not to want to go out? I’m a fucking human, not a pet!” 

“They just want to keep you safe, Clem.” 

I drunkenly disobey, pushing her off and scooting up to the back of my bed. She crawls towards me and sits in front of my legs. She places her hands on top of my knees and slowly rubs her thumbs along the grooves. 

“Leave me alone,” I whisper. 

“Nothing they said was true,” she tells me. 

I look up at her with a frown. “How do you know that?” 

“You’re the smartest girl I know, Clem.” 

I roll my eyes. 

Ellie slaps my knee and cowers over me. “I mean it. You’re incredibly intelligent with animals. You practically speak to them!” 

“I’m telling you, I’m weird.” 

She shakes her head and places her hands on both of my knees. She spreads them apart and crawls between them. I gulp down the nervousness cinching my throat and try to push myself back against my bed. But I’m already against the wall. 

I’ve wanted this ever since I met Ellie. Sure, it was inappropriate for a fourteen-year-old to be thinking about this very moment where Ellie kisses me, but I couldn’t just knock those thoughts away. They have been imprinted onto my mind ever since, and now it’s happening. 

Or maybe not. We’re drunk. But I so badly want this. 

“What’s so bad about being weird?” she asks me in a seductive tone that makes an awful whining noise come out of my throat. She chuckles and lowers her head even more. “What was that?” 

I shrug. “I’m nervous,” I say. “And we’re drunk.” 

“And what about this is making you nervous?” 

“It looks like you want to kiss me…” I whisper. 

“And what if I do?” 

I raise an eyebrow. 

Ellie places her lips on my forehead and smoothes the wrinkles lining my skin. “You are nothing they say you are. You’re intelligent, you’re beautifully weird and you I know you’d be one badass fighter.” 

I look up at her, our lips mere centimeters apart, and frown. “Then why don’t they see that?” 

Ellie’s fingers move up from the bottom of my neck up to my cheeks. She rubs her thumbs along my lips and whispers, “They do, I promise you they do, Clem. I think maybe they don’t want to risk losing you, even if they can show you how to be a badass warrior.” 

I crack a smile, even though it might be the fakest one I’ve ever put on. She must notice, though, because she leans in as close as she can. “If I kiss you, is there a chance this frown will disappear?” 

I lick my lips and stare up at her dark eyes that seem to seep into my body. “Maybe,” I whisper, and allow her lips to sink into mine. 

Her hands wrap around my cheeks and mine wrap around her hair. She pushes me down into my bed and I slowly lean back, wrapping my legs around her waist. I act needy, because I am. I kiss her like I’ve always dreamed of, with my lips following hers and opening up my mouth when she wants to dart her tongue in. 

I’ve kissed one person before Ellie, but it was to get her off my mind. She was spinning in my head, owning every single crevice of my brain. I used to think it was on purpose–the universe was trying to drive me mad before the walls of Jackson did. But now I think… Well, I don’t know  what the universe was trying to do. What I do know is that all those times I made out with Kennedy was to prepare me for the making out Ellie and I are doing. 

The kissing between Ellie and I is fervent. She’s kissing my lips, sucking my bottom lip, kissing along my neck down to my collarbones. She’s trying to pull a leg over one of mine so she can–what I assume–hump it, but before she does, I pull away. 

“Maybe let’s go back down,” I whisper, out of breath. 

She pulls her head away from my neck and brushes her hair out of her face. “Not yet,” she says. “I have something to tell you.” 

I nod. “Do you like me?” I ask. 

She chuckles. “Yes, but that’s not what I was going to say.” 

I frown. “Oh.” 

“I thought that was obvious,” she tells me. “That I like you. I’ve been staring at you ever since I showed up.” 

I drop my head in embarrassment and sheathe my eyes with my hands. “I couldn’t tell. I’m sorry.” 

Ellie lifts my head with both of her hands and sits on her calves in front of me. She kisses the corner of my lips and pulls away. “It’s okay, Clem. Don’t worry about that right now.” 

I nod. “So… then… tell me what you were going to say.” 

She nods and drops her hands onto my shoulders, where she rubs my blades. “You remember that mall I told you about ages ago?” 

My eyes open wide and I smile. “Yes. The one you found when you went on patrol the first few times.” 

She nods. “What if I sneak you out one of these days and take you there? Just us. We can look around and make it memorable for your first time outside of Jackson?” 

I nod. I nod like a child who’s just had a tub of sweets. “Yes!” I exclaim, but quickly run a hand over my mouth. “Sorry… But yes! We should.” 

Ellie nods and kisses me one more time. “How about next Friday? Our dinner will be at 4, and we can sneak out and make it back here by midnight. They won’t even notice we’re gone–they’ll be drunk by eight o’clock.” 

I nod. “Okay. Deal.” 

Ellie kisses the side of my head and pulls away, crawling off my bed. She walks over to my record station and thumbs through my vinyl records. I crawl to the end of my bed and watch as she grabs one and pulls it out of its sleeve. She pulls the needle up and sets the record down. Then she places the needle back down on the record and we wait for the music to begin. 

Ellie turns and extends a hand. “Wanna dance? To get you out of your bad mood?” 

I bite down on my lips to hide my smile and nod. I take her hand and she pulls me up, almost launching me into the air. I hold onto her as she spins me around, and once we’re tired, we plop back onto my bed. 

I turn my head to her and smile because she’s already looking back at me. “I’m excited about this trip,” I whisper in case anyone is standing outside.

“Me too. I’ll make sure to make it extra special.” 

“You promise?” 

She nods. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” 

[lovelykhaleesiii]

can I just say this fandom is getting so ... toxic and out of hand I go to twitter there's shit, I come to tumblr there's more shit 🤡 honestly the hate towards actors and even amongst fans, and creators be it art, fanfic or whatever... Is so disgusting... It's like either you have to agree with every single world someone says or else you're the enemy and get told you should go kys or worse... the racism towards poc actors and overall bully behaviour makes me mad af ... ppl forget how they are just doing their jobs, they don't write the scripts they just act them out...

I haven't interacted with fandom for months now, given the amount discourse between writers had me shook, so basically blocked every account that showed up on dash regarding it all, but with season 2 coming I thought hey why not see how things are... Idk it's like nothing changed for some folk ... They still hate Emma for not being the Rhaenyra they want, the hate Olivia for just playing her part, they hate tom because ... the poor man is playing a controversial character ... They hate Bethany for being a woc ...

Sorry for the rant, I've just been so frustrated with seeing everything... Plan to block all hotd tags and certain creators because honestly I just pop by on tumblr to browse through things and sometimes read a fic or two but lately the amount of bad behaviour I've seen in this fandom from writers or just random hateful folk have just ruined the whole experience for me.

I totally get you nonnie & I’m so sorry you feel this way, especially with s2 just days away from airing…

I do think as unfortunate as it is, majority of this fandom is actually quite heinous and disgusting. the behaviour I’ve seen towards the cast members and towards each other in this space is so hostile and vile, I’m openly ashamed to be part of it. all this back and forth bullshit with TG vs TB is just actual fucking nonsense. like who gives an actual shit? there’s an entire genocide happening but let’s ignore that and rip each other’s heads off about fictional people… humanity at its finest.

I’m actually being deadass when I say, I’m so over this discourse between the teams regarding HOTD. like no team is better than the other, that was the whole point of the story.

hence why, I’m trying to remove myself a little bit from the fandom space especially on tumblr. only trying to focus my energy and interest into the story / show itself.

after all the drama that unfolded especially in this fandom these last few months, there’s a lot of hypocritical behaviour and I’ve honestly got no energy anymore.

more important things in life than arguing with twats on the internet.

so I definitely recommend removing yourself from toxic people in this fandom, whether you need to ghost or block them. you’ll be saving yourself 🫶🏻

sending you only good vibes anon, and I hope you can find some solace in my little corner. that’s what I can offer to anyone that feels the same!

[aotopmha]

I thought about talking about Dawntrail in detail only once I'm done with it, but I just finished the level 91 dungeon and the corresponding cutscenes some of the vitriol I've seen for the story is so bizzare.

Spoilers for up to the end of the level 91 dungeon!

I absolutely love that Wuk is having such a gradual arc.

The very first encounter of the level 91 quests was great and it was just a conversation where she gains some self-awareness about her own feelings via someone else going through the same. And before then, in the previous areas, she just learned about her limits. About her lack of knowledge and skill.

I saw so much vitriol thrown at the other candidates, as well, where all I see is just a gradual pushing of the curtain.

Every appearance they have is just a little bit more of hinting at their relationship with Wuk and relationships and principles of their own.

I don't know if it is paid off, but to me it comes off as neat set-up and mystery; there are some pretty interesting nuggets with Zoraal Ja in particular to me because his demeanor and his goal contrasting.

It's the contrast and juxtaposition of all of these perspectives I'm interested in the most.

I also love that the Warrior of Light is taking on a mentor role. I didn't even fully think about it, but that's a pretty perfect role for them at this point.

And I like the friendly rivalry angle with the other Scions because I was thinking it would be odd for Urianger in particular to suddenly start being secretive again when his entire arc was about not being secretive anymore. I like that they approach the other group while still having their own principles at play.

And I'm so happy they pulled back the stakes after Shadowbringers and Endwalker, rather than trying to one-up them, since they did want to continue the story and all.

It's so rare to see this kind of restraint with longer stories especially.

Lower-stakes conflicts and character arcs can exist and I like how they are doing it here.

Learning to not fear Alpacas because of a bad experience or learning about the customs of a culture is just as much of a valid moment of growth as coming to terms with the death of a loved one.

It still makes the point about learning to respect and understand what you don't.

The Azim Steppe was about this in spirit, too, and I still think it is the best part of Stormblood. And these two lil stories are good examples of it.

In terms of true issues I have with the story so far, I think the Pelupelu area dragged on just a smidge too long, but that's it.

Do I think this is some mindblowing, revolutionary character writing?

No.

Do I see how it all could come together into something really good in the bigger picture?

Yes, very much. Especially with the tone shift in the second half.

And a lot of these characters are PoC-coded (with PoC English VAs), too.

That's a really cool bonus in my eyes!

The really strong hatred, I do not get at all.

I'm willing to bet Wuk's journey is going to be full of failure and that's where the true vitriol comes from.

(Her voice actress is also a trans woman with a "non-traditional" accent.)

She will not immediately get herself together and will be sad and self-depricating and will get seasick again and people will be mad about it because she said she won't be anymore after she got some worries off her chest.

You do not suddenly start doing better when you just say it. That's not how people work. It's a process and I am expecting one. Because getting rid of preconceptions, prejudices and a unhealthy need for validation because of messy family matters is a process.

So, I don't agree with the super extreme takes at all. It's so funny that I spent like 5 hours playing the game and having fun and then I go on social media and some act like this innocous adventure story about learning to understand and respect other cultures that drags a lil is the worst thing to ever exist.

I mean I hope everyone who hates it will get a better story in the patches or next expac or outside of FF14.

But I've seen so many and much worse stories than this so far.

[13eyond13]

This is from a while back buy I'm super curious, why do you hate Fahrenheit 451?

Hahaha. Oh Fahrenheit 451.

So I just read it for the first time this year. All I knew about it beforehand was that it was a highly praised classic, often taught to people in high school, and that it was a dystopian novel that involved bookburning. I thought that because of these things it was going to be like a 1984 book about how censoring literature for containing controversial material, regardless of the context/meaning/purpose of the story, is a dangerous thing to do. Something that is probably good to think about and continue to teach kids!

Instead what I got was some half-baked dystopian world that is very much just Ray Bradbury whining hysterically for several hundred pages about how TV is rotting everybody's brains. ESPECIALLY the brains of women/housewives, it seems. Society is burning books in the novel mostly just because they can't be assed to read anything anymore now that TV is here, so they make it highly punishable by law to read at all? And somehow erase all record of people ever reading for pleasure in less than a couple of generations (there are old people in the world who still like reading, so it must have been fairly recent - but I don't know, the worldbuilding really doesn't make a lot of sense and left much to be desired for me).

The scene that really cemented my hatred for this book is the one in which the protagonist (who very randomly has an epiphany that reading is actually GOOD because of an underage manic pixie dream girl neighbour who flirts with him) barges in on his wife trying to have a nice time watching TV with her housewife friends and rudely shuts the TV off and forces them to have awkward small talk with him instead. At some point one of the housewives mentions having C-sections when she gave birth because she was scared of being in immense pain (which somehow is supposed to help prove to the readers what godless lazy morons people have become since the invention of TV? As if C-sections aren't often medically necessary and also a painful major surgery). The protagonist then yells at his wife and all her friends, calling them monsters, then starts forcefully reading pretentious poetry to them. The whole time my jaw was on the floor and I was not on his side at all, like. OMG! Shut the hell up and let the ladies enjoy watching a show together and to have a C-section when they give birth if they want to, hahaha. It was like the cringiest r/iamverysmart thing I'd ever read...

THEN to top it all off there was an afterword by Ray Bradbury where he essentially blames minorities, POC, and women for being the enemies of "good aesthetics," which is apparently the main "censorship" he's concerned about in books:

I enjoyed the prose in the book and some of the more creepy off-the-wall parts of it, like The Mechanical Hound (a robot dog with 8 legs that runs around and euthanizes whatever its programmed to smell). But overall I thought it read like the temper tantrum of a conservative asshole man-child who doesn't bother recognizing his own privilege and who looks down his nose snobbishly at anyone who doesn't share his hobby of reading or his exact taste in literature. The argument the book was making didn't ring very true to me, and the dystopian future it presented didn't make a lot of sense to me, so the fact that this is STILL considered one of the best books of all time really annoyed me and threw me for a loop. 😅

[sunshiline-writes]

A Rose Admist Thorns: When the Punishment Fits the Crime

Two new characters! Solomon, and Miguel!

CW: Miguel is referred to as "kid" and "the boy" a lot but he's 21, GORE, there's a lot of vivid descriptions of wounds, blood, most likely medical inaccuracies (but I tried), unconsciousness, some mention of kidnapping, threats of death, fear of future punishment, caretaking lots of caretaking, nonsexual nudity, sadistic whumper, poc whump, lady whump

Previous | Masterlist | Next I think I got everything but if I need to tag something else please let me know

Oftentimes when sleeping, Solomon would dream of home. The plains and the warm breeze. The way his feet would disappear under the grass. The openness of the area. The backdrop of the mountains. It was during these dreams that he wished he never left his home. The pursuit of education seemed so trivial compared to the promise of seeing family again. Especially now, when he was stuck under the thumb of Xavier and his gang. 

Solomon had wanted to learn medicine and come back home to share it with his people. Life had other plans. He was here now though and this thought was what he was acutely reminded of when he was kicked awake by a very angry looking Xavier. 

“What happened?” asked Solomon as he slowly sat up, pushing himself to stand. 

“We found her,” Xavier said.“She,” he paused for a moment, then smiled, “there was an accident in town, she’s hurt. Very badly. She’s in the kitchen, on the table. Get Miguel.” 

As Xavier spoke, Solomon was getting dressed, pulling on a shirt and pants. Then he lighted the lamp with the match, blowing it out. “What do I need to wake Miguel for?” 

Xavier grinned, his eyes bright, there was dried blood on the side of his face. Solomon wasn’t sure who’s it was. His, or Hen’s. To be honest, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. 

“You’re just gonna need him.” 

Solomon frowned, but nodded. “I’ll be right there, I’ll get Miguel and my things.” 

This was going to be a very long night, he thought to himself as Xavier left the room. Solomon left soon after, oil lamp in one hand, medicine bag in the other, he made his way to the little closet space that counted as Miguel’s ‘room’. Solomon placed his bag on the floor, unlocking the door, and Miguel was asleep on his cot, face peaceful. He hated to wake him, but, what Xavier asked, Solomon delivered. He gently tapped Miguels shoulder and the boy opened his eyes, blinking at him blearily. A confused expression on his face. “We’re needed, get up. Meet me in the kitchen,” Solomon signed to the boy, slowly to make sure he caught every word. He was still half asleep, but he nodded, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. When they were open again, Solomon signed to him a quick, Hurry, and left him to get himself ready as he made his way to the kitchen. 

Miguel was a good kid. Though he wasn’t a kid anymore, he was twenty-one now, and had seen more than anyone he’d ever met. Solomon remembered eight years ago when he was brought by Xavier, sniffling, blindfolded, and deaf as sin. He half expected Xavier to say that he did that to the kid, but to his relief, the boy was given to him like that. Solomon was the only one who knew how to speak to him, so naturally, the boy was put into his care. He didn’t mind it. Miguel was a fast learner and a good listener, despite the hearing issue. At least, that’s how he was with Solomon. With Xavier, there was a burning hatred in his eyes whenever the man was around. 

His thoughts of Miguel ended when he walked into the kitchen, hiding his expression but the sight was horrid. The first thing he noticed about Henrietta was that she was naked, on her stomach, and her head hung limply off the table. The second thing he noticed was the blood dripping on the floor. Solomon pushed one of the men aside who was standing over her, and the first thing he did was check her pulse, slow, too slow. Not gone. She wasn’t dead. Not yet. Not yet. “What in the hell did you do to her?” Solomon asked, digging into his medical bag. 

He looked up when Miguel walked in, immediately signing for him to grab water. Solomon couldn’t help her if he couldn’t see what was wrong. All he knew was that her back was in shreds, if he didn’t know better he would have suspected a whipping. But that wasn’t it. There were patches of dirt, mixed with blood making mud covering her back. God she was shredded. Miguel came back with a bucket and a few rags. Solomon slowly moved Henrietta's hair from her face, sighing softly. There was a low groan from her as Miguel started to gently wipe the blood and grime from her back. “Shhh, it’s okay Hen,” Solomon told her softly, “we’re going to fix you, don’t worry”. If only he could keep that promise. The man looked up at all of the other men looking at them, prying eyes on the vulnerable body of Henrietta. 

“I need everyone to leave, we need space to work.” 

There was a series of grumbles from some of the other men as they all followed Solomon’s order. He supposed that was the one perk of being the only doctor around for miles. They all left and Xavier stopped in front Solomon on the opposite end of the table. 

“Just make sure she lives, or the boy,” Xavier made a pointed look at Miguel, “he doesn’t make it either. Yeah Sol?” 

Solomon just nodded and Xavier seemed satisfied with this answer and left too. Then it was just the three of them. Working in silence except for the occasional whimpers and sobs from Henrietta. He tried his best to comfort her, rubbing her neck gently, whispering to her. Miguel got it as clean as he could. 

Henrietta’s back was meat. Raw and torn apart, Solomon picked out the rocks that had lodged themselves in the muscles of her back. It still oozed blood. They needed to stop the bleeding. They needed to disinfect the wounds, stitch what they could. She was going to bleed out or die of infection if they didn’t. So Solomon did his best, he finished picking the rocks out, he grabbed the disinfectant, listened to her scream as Miguel held her down, her trachea was bruised so the screams were cracked and hoarse. It was all something he thought he’d never have to do again. Solomon thought she was gone for good, that he’d never have to listen to her cry and scream again. But here they were, watching as she slumped forward again unconscious. 

“Good, that makes the next part easier,” then together, he and Miguel stitched her up. 

–

“Is she going to be okay?” he signed to him when they were done. 

“If she makes it through the night, yes. You keep watch for tonight. I’ll do tomorrow,” Solomon said, nodding to him. 

The boys eyes were bright, if he was watching Henrietta, then he didn’t have to sleep in the closet space Xavier had given to him. It was almost a relief. “If you need anything, you knock three times okay?” He knocked on the mantel above the fireplace to demonstrate and the boy nodded. Looking bright still. 

“Solomon?” Henrietta’s cracked, broken voice came from the table. Sol rushed to her side, helping her lift her head slightly. 

“Hen, don’t talk, your tracheas bruised, your backs in shreds. Try not to move. Miguel’s here too. You need to rest okay?” he said to her, trying not to sound panicked. 

Henrietta already had tears streaming down her cheeks, even as Miguel placed the bandages on her back and placed a blanket around her naked body, she sobbed quietly. “I thought I was out,” she cried softly. “I thought I’d gotten away.” 

“I know Hen, I know. You’ve got to stay strong,” he sighed, rubbing soothing circles on the back of her neck as she slowly relaxed. “You’re going to get out again. You just have to heal and get stronger.” 

“Next time,” she mumbled, as she started to fade into unconsciousness again, “next time, I’ll take you both with me.” 

Solomon couldn’t help but smile. She was always such an optimist. He hoped that Xavier wouldn’t kill that spark in her this time. But there was probably more punishment for her coming. Punishment that would fit the crime. Solomon wished he didn’t have to be the one that would have to put her back together when Xavier took her apart.

Taglist: @demondamage @burntcoffeewhump @for-the-love-of-angst @just-a-silly-little-whumper @tictac-murder-spaghetti @crash-bump-bring-the-whump @whumpifi

@flowersarefreetherapy please asked to be added or removed!!

[axailslink]

Plenty fish in the sea

Riri Williams x poc FEM reader

Summary: Riri has been obsessing over the fact that you're not her girl so she talks to Shuri and Shuri gives her what she considers some very stupid advice.

Snippet from the fic: “ "There will always be other fish in the sea Riri" Riri scoffs as she slams her laptop shut "not this sea Shuri..." ”

Riri has been talking Shuri's ear off since she answered the phone and Shuri would have it no other way that's her best friend but she's very tempted to hang up right now. "I just don't get it she's with this girl that could honestly care so much less for her and it's like does she see herself as needing to put up with this? Because if I have to I'll step in I'll be a homewrecker just so she can be happy. I don't see her smile anymore Shuri not around her. I can make her smile." Shuri nods "yeah we know you can make her smile but if she wants to be with that girl you can't step in." Riri groans and sighs "I just want her to smile again and let's be honest she don't want to be with her." Shuri lets out a sigh now propping her head upon her hand "you can make her smile by being her friend and making her happy." Riri has never wanted to curse Shuri out more in her life than she does right now because what in the fuck is Shuri talking about? "Yo what? Is that what you did? Because I'm pretty sure your girl was in a relationship with a man before you two dated and got engaged." There's silence on Shuri's end and Riri's realized she may have overstepped an unspoken but well-known boundary. Even though what Riri said might have been true that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt however Shuri takes a long breath before returning to the original problem of the conversation. "There will always be other fish in the sea Riri" Riri scoffs as she slams her laptop shut "not this sea Shuri not this one there's only one fucking fish for me. I don't want Dory or Flounder I want Y/n." Shuri grabs her phone and groans "that was my wise opinion however if you really like this girl be a homewrecker but be prepared for all the shit that follows behind." Riri nods.

"I know Shuri it's childish and stupid to even be upset about but she smiles at me. Shuri I make her smile and maybe it's just me feeling another straight girl but how will I know if I don't try?" Shuri nods as she sits back in her chair "so what are you going t-" before Shuri can finish her sentence there's a knock on her door which she opens. However, your appearance is quite the surprise she's stuck because the next words to come out of both of your mouths is "shit."

A/n: not meant to be a full fic something small and short only. I just thought it would be funny because I hate that damn saying "there's other fish in the sea" like damn I don't want them fish I want that fish.

Taglist:

@verachii

@mocha-aya

@shuriszn

@lolas-bunny

@louderfortheback

@lucillele

@shuri-lover

@quintessencewrites

@zestgodtj

@yamsthoughts

@sokkasbae255

@saintwrld

@tuesdaylovesu

@rxcently

@yvxmpire

@lunax0654

@homie0sapien

@karimwillia

@adeola-the-explorer

@garbagesleepschedule

@bratydoll

@gubrii

@vampphase

@ctrl-liah

@trixielwt

@6-noir

@annoyingtidalwavequeen

@atssukoo

@shuri-my-love

@inmyheadimobsessed

@letitias-fav

@rxcently

@iwillbiteabitch

@malltake12

@mxyx-rx444

@kiwidreamersstuff

@secretgyals

@awarm-sundaynight

@shurisnewbabymomma

@shurisbigtoe

@darkangelchronicles

@writesbyriri

@locoforshuri

[aliypop]

Any Day Now: Chapter 2

Word Count: 2,924

Writers Note: Lost steam on the Tupelo fic, so here's a new series

Warning: Language

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Taglist

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

@your-nanas-house

@zayurir

@60svintage

@sillybookmarks

Graceland 1967

"Those damn movies are still doing me in Cece!" Elvis grumbled as his wife looked up from her typewriter. His third rant of the day since he'd gotten off the phone with Tom, but she listened and watched him pace around until he'd eventually turn blue in the face or get hungry,

"Sugar, sit down. You'll tucker yourself out again, and not to mention the kids are still sleeping." Cecelia laughed a little. She watched her husband stop pacing in his tracks. She always knew how to calm him down. Things were still shaky from last night's call with The Colonel, although Elvis didn't want to talk much about it.

"Now take a deep breath and tell me what's wrong," Cecelia said, her hands off the keys. 

"I-I-I Oh, I wouldn't want you worrin about me." Elvis smiled as Cecelia gave him that glance. He couldn't resist her beautiful brown eyes when they could see right through him.

"Elvis Aaron Presley... What's bugging you...." she heard him take in a deep sigh as he looked up towards the ceiling, his intoxicating blue eyes keeping her mesmerized with those beautiful long lashes. 

"It's The Colonel." 

"What'd he do this time..." she sighed, laying in her husband's lap, 

"He's got good intentions with this idea, but..."

"You hate it."

"I hate it." he laughed, "You know me so well, don't you." he leaned down to kiss her nose. 

"Mmmm, let's see, touring with you from 54 to 56 and then dating you and being your wife. And sometimes co-star, and the mother of our kids, I'd hope I do." she shrugged, "But continue, I wanna know if I have to break his kneecaps.".

"So you know Singer Sewing Machines."

"Mhmm, Midge loves their machines," 

"They want me to do a Christmas Special..." she could hear the aggravation in his voice as he said it. Cecelia was trying not to laugh as he said it, but she couldn't help but think about him in an ugly Christmas Sweater. 

"Fine, fine, laugh at me." Elvis groaned,

"Honeybear, I'm not laughin at you. I'm laughin at the fact Tom thought you'd agree to that." she took another deep breath, "You know my mother even knows that's not your speed anymore."

"I'm glad someone knows that." There was a bit of hurt and loss in his voice as if he forgot who he once was, the man climbing the charts, the man women wanted and the kind men wanted to be. He needed a reminder.

"You need a comeback." she rubbed circles on his face with her hand, "And a shave." she joked as he heard her laugh. 

"You think I could make a comeback?"

"You're Elvis Presley. You can make anything! Except for food." she mumbled the last part.

"Aye, I thought you liked my charred steak," he smirked,

"It could've been better." she pulled him in for a kiss as he held her close, a small moan leaving her lips. She did miss the times she got to kiss him. Between touring and doing movies,

"Cece..."

"Hmm..."

"If I do this Comeback Special, I want you and the kids with me every step of the way." 

"Who said I didn't have NBC on Speed Dial..." her fingers in his jet black hair as she trailed down to his ascot.

"God Damnit, doll, you're my weakness," he smirked.

"And you're mine." she was straddling him now as he looked her up and down, 

"Ah, ah, easy there, Tiger, that's how we got twins."

"You started it."

"I did, and we'll finish it tonight. But for now, we have business to do."

"Mama!" rolling off Elvis, Cecelia sat next to him on the couch. The kids were up and hungry, and these two had to act as if they weren't going to jump each other's bones. Sitting at the table, Elaine and Jessie began to argue. 

"You do like her!" 

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Woah woah woah, who's liking who," Elvis asked as Cecelia snickered,

"Elaine likes this girl named Estella and-" Elaine covered his mouth as Jessie licked it. She then tackled her brother as Cecelia broke them apart. 

"CUT IT OUT!"

"Sorry, mama..." they both said, 

"Now, who's this, Estella..."

"A friend." Elaine blushed, "She's pretty." 

"Where's she from?" Elvis asked,

"She doesn't know." Jessie shrugged, "But I think she's weird." Jessie continued eating his waffles,

 "She's not weird!" Elaine growled at her brother.

"Is too!"

"Will you two stop it!" Elvis sighed, rubbing his temples as Cecelia glanced at him. "Welcome to my world." Handing him a cup of coffee as he kissed her knuckles, "So, I saw you've been writing a few scripts of your own again?"

"Mhmm, I have. Nothing too serious, you know." Cecelia responded to her husband, 

"Who knows, maybe you'll direct my Christmas special?"

"Christmas !?!" The twins shouted, 

"Can we go!" Elaine asked 

"You don't even know where we're going, little Biscuit." Elvis teased.

"Well, where are we going?" Jessie asked,

"California."

 California June 1968

Cecelia watched from the background on the NBC Set as there was the bustle of the stage crew running pieces to the multiple sets. Cecelia, however, didn't want to interfere, let alone get in the way. But things were looking hectic, especially for Elvis. It was like a circus that she knew she could tame. Cecelia just had to find the perfect moment to jump in. And say something. 

"We fucking lost Howe..." Binder groaned, "No producer, no production, we're behind on everything," Cecelia's ears perked up as she walked over. It wasn't like she was eavesdropping. She was a Godsent, after all. 

"How behind are we..." Cecelia asked, 

"Mrs. Presley, it's nothing to worry about. "

 "I've got some guys who can get us back on track," Cecelia mentioned as he stopped in his tracks,

"Well... The music hasn't been composed. We're only two weeks out from finishing pre-production. We don't have a producer, and I'm up to my ass in stress."  

Cecelia laughed as Binder looked at her confused, "If Elvis calls, tell him the production is moving fine." she smiled, straightening out her pantsuit as she looked at Binder, 

"But..."

"I'll make some calls. You keep Elvis calm." Her heels, clicking away on the soundstage floor, 

"Oh, and Binder." 

"Yes, Mrs. Presley, I-I mean Cecelia."

"Say hello to your second unit director," she smirked, twirling her sunglasses. 

Later that night, Cecelia had been prepping and planning on the phone, trying to get weeks' worth of work done in the span of an hour. She'd been burning herself on both ends of the candle, but Cecelia wanted it to be perfect for Elvis. She wrote scripts and wrote songs, but she had a mother who knew any and everybody. 

"Elaine Marie, leave Jesse alone!" Denise sighed, rubbing her temples, "She's almost as troublesome as her father."

"She's her father's twin," Cecelia laughed. Her mother could hear how tired she was already,

 "Have you been sleeping lately..." Her mother asked. She'd been at their California mansion with the twins,

"I have mama... just not as peacefully," Cecelia sighed, 

"Is something going on between you and Elvis?" Denise asked. She could hear concern in the voice of her mother. 

"No, no, we're fine. We've both been busy, with me helping direct this TV special, and he's making new music for it. We've rarely seen each other." Cecelia laughed a bit, but her laughter was sad, Cecelia thought this would bring them closer, but it felt like they were drifting apart again. 

"I see you got yourself into something." Denise sighed, 

"I did," she responded, typing away on her typewriter in her temporary office space

"Cecelia Shanel Presley!"

"We just need a producer..." 

"Get Midge to do it..."

"You're a genius!" 

"What would you do without me, child." Denise smiled.

"Probably die." she joked, hanging up, Denise heard the door open as Elvis walked in, the kids were already asleep, and yet he looked lost, 

"Looking for Cece?"

"Yeah, I am, mama..." He sighed, 

"She's still at the studio. But what can I help you with." patting a seat for him as he sat down, Elvis laid his head in her lap as she smiled, feeling motherly, "It's The Colonel, we're not seein' eye to eye again, and it's killin me." 

"Well, I'll cook you a nice warm meal, and you tell me all about it," Denise asked. She was in the kitchen, cooking dinner, and the only thing Elvis could do was worry. He hadn't seen his wife much, let alone the kids. He was up to his neck in meetings and arguments with Tom. "You know if your mother was still here, she'd have had several ungodly words for that man." Denise laughed as Elvis nodded, "I know she would've." He laughed a little. The thought of Gladys still pained him, but he knew he gained another mother, even if it was Denise. She vowed those many years ago. She'd take care of him, and she meant it. Denise was a listening ear and a comfort to him, but she still wasn't his Cecelia, 

"So, how have things been with you and Cece?"Elvis sighed, and Denise was dreading the response, 

"Well, uh..."

"Well, what..."

"We've been going through a bit of a dry spell." Elvis blushed, a bit embarrassed.

"That will happen when you have kids that little. You'll find the balance," Denise smiled as she heard the door open, 

"Sorry, I'm late!" Cecelia smiled, "Steve and..." She felt strong hands wrapped around her back as her lips met his, "You and me..." 

"MOMMY!"

"Upstairs-" Elvis mumbled as Denise chuckled, 

NBC Studios June 17th

 The studio was thick with tension as Steve Binder was trying his best to bargain with, "Listen, Parker. It's a genius idea. I mean, we get him rehearsing with his friends and-"

"That would be ridiculous. No one wants to see that!" Tom rolled his eyes, walking down the halls of the studio towards the lobby, 

"It suites Elvis. It's not exactly traditional!" Binder said,

"Singer sewing machine wants tradition."

"Singer wants the singer Elvis Presley." Cecelia gave her keys to the receptionist. Tom's skin crawled when he heard her voice, and Cecelia's eyes rolled when she saw his face.

"Ms. Valmos..."

"It's Mrs. Presley to you, Parker...." she said behind gritted teeth, "If they want traditional, they got the wrong guy," Cecelia said, shrugging her shoulders as Binder gave her the schedule for the day, "Thanks, B," Cecelia said, looking over the call sheet, she could feel that Tom was seething like Satan in Holy water.

"No... No... No..." Tom looked between the two, "You can't be here for rehearsals! Y-You'll distract my boy!"

"Actually, she has to be," Binder smirked.

"She'll be a distraction to Elvis. I tell you, she will!"

"You mean-"

"Hey, uh, Presley wants to speak to the directors." Midge poked her head out of her office as Tom almost fainted. 

"Tell him we're coming." Cecelia smiled, her white boots clicking on the studio floors along with Steve's Chelsea boots. 

"So... Who's that?"

"Binder, Michaels, Michaels, Binder, Midge will be our producer for the time being," Cecelia smiled,

"Ever produced anything, kid?"

"Music?" Midge shrugged, "A few contracts and budgets?"

"Works for me." 

Walking into the rehearsal room, Midge could instantly see the problem. The team had been falling apart even more because the dream was a compromise. She could tell with just how tense everyone looked. The dancers were confused, and there were Elvis elves in a corner. It felt like one big shit show of a hot mess.

"Hey, uh...Cil..." Midge whispered, "You've got a tough one on your hands..."

"I can handle it." 

"Can you..."

"Already had to handle a costume meeting." Cecelia sighed, taking a deep breath," We're supposed to fit him in some of them today..." 

"Well, there's our choreographer, but where's Elvis..." Midge groaned as she looked over to see Cecelia was gone. Elvis was sitting in his dressing room, his head in his hands as he tried to take a deep breath. Elvis needed to relax. He just needed to sing like the Colonel told him to. 

"Belew's looking for you for your fitting, Mr. Presley..." Elvis's head had perked up as he heard the voice. He knew it from anywhere. 

"Cece..."

"That's second director Presleyesley to you," she said as she came behind him. He looked stressed, and they hadn't even filmed anything yet. 

"You're..." he nodded, "No wonder why Colonels pissed." he laughed as Elvis held her hand, 

"Figured you could use the help," she kissed his cheek, 

"Now, these costumes..."

"I told Belew it's out of my hands on that one." she laughed,  

"Why would you do that, darlin."

"Your show your rules," she walked out of the dressing room, knowing he'd follow her, 

"What about the Singer image."

"Singer wants the Elvis image, so give 'em Elvis." she kissed him quickly. Cecelia was right. It was his show, and he could do whatever he wanted to do with it. 

"Elvis..." Tom walked in as he saw the two, "Ah yes, just the person I wanted to see..." he glared at Cecelia as he walked past her.

"If you know what's good for you, don't listen to her."

Cecelia's head had turned as she could see the fire in Elvis's eyes ignite.

"You listen here!" Cecelia held Elvis back.

"She's going to distract you with her idea-"

"Idea's that sell Parker! Or the ideas that Elvis has. It's his show, and Singer is sponsoring it," she looked at him.

"It was supposed to be a family fun Christmas special!"

"Another way to keep me at the middle of the charts." Elvis groaned,

"My boy, I'd never-"

"His last few movies flopped..." Cecelia looked at him, "Thus, his last few records were flops." she looked at Tom hard and rageful,

"What would you know about show biz."

"I don't know, but maybe the custom pink Mustang outside from Paradise Records might help. Or the fact I was touring with Elvis before your penguin-looking ass came along! OR-" Tom laughed at her in a mocking tone, making her nearly launch at him, "Yes, and remind me, who's been playing mother goose recently?" Elvis held her back in his arms, almost wanting to take a piece of him for himself. Tom walked off laughing as Cecelia was heated. They'd had bumped heads in the past, but this was worse than before. 

"Baby, look at me." Elvis held her close,

"Yes..."

"Whatever I say goes, I'm gonna show him the real Elvis."

"I was wondering when my husband would finally show up." She joked, getting on her tiptoes to ruffle his hair a little.

"Why, you little!" 

"Catch me if you can!" she teased, running out of the dressing room and towards rehearsals. Midge was proud that she could handle the chaos surrounding herself.

June 20th

"Anyone seen Presley?" Midge asked, going around the studio. 

"Which one, there's two of 'em." One of the production Assistants said, 

"The one who's show it is..." Midge rolled her eyes, "Ugh, Hollyweird people." Elvis had been recording earlier that day as they finally made it to the first production day, also known as the countdown to the ending of making history, 

"Hey, have you seen Elvis?"

"No, but I got my ticket!"

Cecelia turned as she saw "Rosa!" she hugged her tightly. 

"You know there's like two guys outside giving away tickets to anyone, right?" Both Midge and Cecelia groaned, 

"Well, make yourself comfortable and-"

"We'll just set up over here." 

"Is that Scotty..."

"Rosa... Stop, you love Jerry..." Cecelia sighed, "Rosa..."

"You go find Presley. I'll handle Rosa. Tell him it's almost time to film." 

"Tell Binder he's on his way," Cecelia responded, walking towards his dressing room. Elvis heard the knock on his door as he took a deep breath. It had been seven years since Elvis had done a show. His nerves were kicking in, and everything around him told Elvis he couldn't do it. He couldn't make it, looking in the mirror. Elvis could see the young nineteen-year-old boy shaking with excitement to be on any stage if given the chance. But he also remembered the scared twenty-three-year-old in a foreign country grieving his mama. Yet he remembered the twenty-six-year-old in the hospital holding his twins and kissing his wife, who'd been there every step of the way,

"El... you okay?" Cecelia asked, opening the door.

"Just nervous." Cecelia took his hands as she kissed each finger and ring. 

"I know you are," 

"What if I-I blow it," he sighed, "I go out there an I stutter or some crap like that."

"Then we'll roll for another take." Cecelia grinned,

"If I forget a word?"

"Then we'll roll another take." she shrugged, 

"What if I embarrass myself?"

"Honey, this is your world. We're all living in it." She giggled, "If you mess up we'll roll another take,"

"Well, you're my world, and I enjoy living in you." he kissed her cheeks, then her nose and her lips,

"El!"

"What, it didn't sound right or something?"

"You know what you said!" She laughed, "Now go get dressed, will you." 

"Alright, fine."  

When Elvis walked out, he was covered head to toe in leather. She'd, of course, seen the sketches of the suit by Bill, but to see it in person infront of her was making her feel things.

"Kinda tight, huh..."

"In all the right places..." she mumbled, 

[destinyc1020]

Are you gonna listen to Halle's new music when it drops or do you not like her anymore cause she had a baby with DVD. It just seems like some people liked a certain image of her, that most people projected to be fair, and now you have people who act like she killed their mom. I know people say they can separate the artist from the art, but I don't think they fo. Especially when it comes to poc. It just feels like if people listen it isn't cause they are a geniune fan like people say they are. It's only to talk mess about her on Twitter. Just like Ariana, people are mad she is with that guy (SpongeBob) cause of how their relationship happened. But it just seems like people won't judge Ariana as harshly or be biased when they listen to her music/ support as they do Halle. Am I making sense?

Huh?? I'm still a fan of Halle's Anon lol... Idk where you got the impression that I wouldn't be. 🥴 Just because I don't like a celebrity's life decisions or their significant other, it doesn't mean that I hate that celebrity now, or that I'm no longer a fan of theirs. Unlike SOME people, I can separate a celebrity from their personal relationship life and their work and who they are as a PERSON.

Halle is still awesome and super talented, gorgeous, and a sweet person, REGARDLESS of who she's dating and chose to procreate with. 🤷🏾‍♀️

So yes, I WILL still be listening to her music and watching her movies lol 😅

No comment on Ariana and the troll she's dating lol...

[opinated-user]

Lily seethes with jealousy. When I see her get angry at TOH, a good show that has helped a lot of people through real-life trauma, spawned lots of fanfics, fanart and cosplays, a show that gave us breakthrough representation and wonderful character dynamics between both friends and romantic partners that feel natural and logical for who these people are, what I hear isn't "I hate TOH". What I hear is "I'm a 30 year old basement dweller furious that someone else's good writing and creative drive has given them more success than my self-insert OC fanfic ever will".

When she was aphobic as hell towards SF Debris, that was the vibe I got then, too. "How dare this Jewish asexual man be so good at analyzing sci-fi and so in-depth? He read A Tale of Two Cities and Moby Dick in order to refresh himself on the material so he can properly explain the quotes from them used in Star Trek: Wrath of Khan and talk about literary parallels? That sucks! What about my reviews where I dunk on shows I haven't watched? Why isn't that getting me the acclaim and income he has? Why does he get to have a stable income, a wife and a functional family? Why not me?!??"

When she tried hard to erase aivi & surrashu's contributions to Steven Universe's soundtrack, all I heard is, "I'm jealous of this Vietnamese NB in a happy, long-term marriage with a neurodivergent man. I pretend to be a POC and alternate between telling people I'm autistic and have ADHD, why didn't success fall into my lap?! Oh, just because they put in hard work and create original work, they get to be well-regarded?! What about me? I kinda sorta review cartoons sometimes! Where's my status?!"

She screams a lot, but no matter how many people she calls things, no matter how many queer people and POC and neurodivergent people she hates, at the end of the day she's alone in her room like always. She's alone with a dwindling fanbase, very limited acclaim, increasing levels of criticism for her past actions, and almost no friends. No one will ever cosplay one of her characters or eagerly hand over hundreds of dollars to her because of her good analysis of character actions and literary parallels or find her through original, non-fandom based work.

I don't think even Lily is so stupid she can't recognize that TOH has better writing than her work. I think she realizes it and it hurts her, and she's lashing out rather than putting in the work.

If she worked hard and tried, even her writing could be improved. Reading and researching like SF Debris does for his reviews is 100% an option for any internet reviewer if they're willing to put in the work. Creating original, non-fandom based work is not difficult, and though it takes a lot of marketing yourself and persistence to make it as an original content creator, we're in a golden era of webtoons, web comics and original fiction on the web. She could, if she tried, be better. But she's too immature to try, so instead of getting better, she just screams into her microphone and cries on tumblr, eternally angry, eternally irrelevant.

She reminds me more and more of a canceled Fox News host - a bitter conservative too toxic to work with other conservatives anymore, whose online presence decreases in visibility as it fades in relevance.

.