#So why not the literal elemental the party has?

[willowbirds]

Not me thinking about what could happen if Mister gets the shard!

Think about it.

He’s an elemental so the shard likely wouldn’t burn him.

He could gain more fire powers, the flames that make up his body possibly turning white or blue with how hot his temperature has become.

Ashton has an arm made of lava rock which could be a perfect perch for the wielder of the fire shard.

If Ashton and Mister are near each other perhaps it gives them a benefit for their elemental connection.

It would be much easier for them to sneak around since they’re one person and a monkey.

Perhaps Fearne could still gain an ability since she is tethered to Mister.

I dunno, I just think Mister makes the most sense to me.

[rxttenfish]

tbh tho this is EXACTLY what merfolk relationships look like

and they just keep track of this. in their heads. all the time.

[rosefires20]

My brainrot today is thinking about just how incredible for a character Eowyn is.

Genuinely. The series might not have many female characters but the ones we do get go so fucking hard.

To me, Eowyn is literally the definition of defining being a woman for oneself. She rejects the roles she is given despite acknlowdging the importance and its mostly because she knows part of the reason is that she is a woman.

The reason why she is obsessed with Aragorn isn't because she loves him but because she wants what he has. She wants the freedom and courage and bravery that Aragorn has at every turn. She literally has multiple conversations during the Two Towers about how what she fears most is a cage. All this girl wants is the freedom to be and not be forced into a role. The best thing is that she literally gets that.

The segment of Return of the King about Eowyn and Faramir is literally about her piecing together what she truly wants. She doesn't want Aragorn. She wants freedom and the ability to choose. Faramir does nothing but encourage that in her. Their love story is literally one of the healthiest love stories I've seen in a long time because at the heart of it, their love is a place to return home to for both parties. Both go off to lead and help their people for a considerable amount of time before returning to each other but that does not diminish their bond. Even Faramir, I believe, falls in love with her bravery and dedication to her loved ones. The reason she went to Pelenor Fields and Gondor with the troops of Rohan was because she had things she wanted to fight for. She wanted to fight for herself, her people, and her loved ones. She is the one who protects Theoden after he is killed so that his body gets the treatment it deserves. She encourages Merry and helps him go to the battle because she sees her struggle in Merry. They feel helpless standing around when there are things to be doing.

Let's also not forget the fact that she was around Grima Wormtounge just as much as the King was. She was exposed to the same poison and awful words that eroded the king. It's even implied that her care for him is part of the reason why Theoden was savable when Gandalf showed up. She had the same power and bravery as everyone else even if she didn't see it in herself.

Then at the end of the day, SHE decides where she wants to go and what path she wants to walk. She walked the path of a warrior. The path of a princess/ruler. The path of a caretaker. But in the end she decides which elements truly mean something to her outside of gender definitions. That is what makes her character so incredible to me. In this she literally kills one of the biggest enemies in that battle with such a badass line.

[saints-who-never-existed]

So we all know that Blanky is cool and badass as fuck. That goes without saying. There's a sense, right from the get-go really, that he pretty much always knows what to do in any given situation.

Blanky knows when humour will lift a mood, and when seriousness is required. He knows when to give grace and kindness, and when to dole out much-needed tough-love.

I think it always worth repeating, though, that none of that would be possible without an extremely high degree of empathy and emotional intelligence. To me, that's Blanky's real greatest strength. It's the root of what makes him so cool and badass as fuck so I want to ramble more about some examples of it.

-

In Episode Two, for instance, we have his nighttime conversation with Crozier where Blanky matches the captain's energy beat for beat.

He laughs with him first about the erstwhile reindeer and while he remains optimistic throughout the rest of the scene, he's also honest, both acknowledging Crozier's various fears and drilling down to the root of them immediately - "Aye. You trusted Ross and you trusted Parry."

When Crozier remarks on his perceptiveness, Blanky's incredibly tactful and kind too - a casual "No, it's just that I know you." when in reality Crozier's been doing a horseshit job of concealing his thoughts and they're visible from fuckin' space.

-

In the following episode, I think the response Blanky gives to Little's fearful teatime diatribe is great.

In contrast to Crozier's vague and even condescending reply which only seems to rile him up further, Blanky shuts Little down clearly and firmly but without being unkind. I think a simple, factual response was the right tactic for the lawful-good sort of guy Little is.

I think his accurate judgement of Little's character is further confirmed later in the episode vis a vis the clandestine rescue party. He's right when he says "Lieutenant Little will never agree to it."

-

Another example that's very special to me personally is in Episode Five and it's not Blanky delivering his warning after Crozier punches Fitzjames, or even when he lightens the mood with jokes and toasts before having his own fuckin' leg sawn off (although I could talk about those forever).

It's actually a wee almost throwaway line Blanky utters to McDonald right before he heads up on deck:

"He's ill with it now..."

Crozier's behaved abhorrently to everyone around him up until that point. He's been vicious and manipulative, cruel and thoughtless. Threatening to throw Silna out into the elements and actually following through with Blanky, ordering him out into weather he knows full well is so cold that it literally just killed a man.

It would be so easy for Blanky to decide that that was final straw, that he was done with Crozier's bullshit. But no! Even then, even then, Blanky seems to be able to take a step back to some degree. To recognise Crozier's alcoholism for what it is - a debilitating illness and not some great moral failing.

It used to confuse me to some degree why Blanky would greet Crozier so warmly at Carnivale (other than the fact that the absolute mad-lad is drunk off his ass). Like, that's the man who made the decision that lead to you nearly dying and losing a limb - how can you just hug him as if none of that happened? But the more I thought about that earlier line, the more clearly it spoke of the incredible depth of understanding and feeling Blanky has for Crozier and the more beautiful that relationship became. He can forgive him so quickly because he can see so clearly the true person under the difficult surface.

-

We talk so much about Blanky remaining outside of the horror story the rest of the characters come to inhabit, refusing to dignify it with his presence. And, again, I just think an important part of the reason he's able to do so is that he sees the world around him and the people within in it for exactly what it is and for exactly who they are. It's just a lot harder to jump-scare a man who sees the mask you're wearing from a mile away, and understands precisely why you've donned it.

[utilitycaster]

Whenever people are like "well LIAM'S characters never faced any backlash when HE played characters in the spotlight" and "no one will let WOMEN have negative qualities" when Caleb and Vax and Orym have received pretty constant hate for main character/sadboy/scene stealing and when meta writers outright stopped talking about Imogen because a particularly mindless set of hit dogs are still hollering about how she is so good and kind and how dare you call her selfish, it's really like...in the service of trying to make your failure of a point you've just said something that literally anyone with a memory lasting longer than the apocryphal goldfish length can immediately debunk, which in turn absolutely shreds your credibility going forward, if you had it.

More generally there's something very vile here, because on the surface this statement does look like an attempt, if one ignorant of pretty much any fandom conversation, to defend women. The thing is it's come from a place of defending Dorian and Ashton's plan - a man, and a nb person who would not identify as a woman - that requires a particularly great deal of sacrifice from the women of the party. So of course they just switch tactics. Instead of "how dare the fandom not think women are always best" it's "how dare the fandom disrespect a disabled nb person and a person played by an indigenous actor." And I'm sure they'll switch again. Because pretty much every character in this campaign is on some axis of oppression, and there's a few people in this fandom who, instead of considering these things as important details that inform these characters, seem to largely treat their minority statuses as ammunition. Feminism and antiracism and queer advocacy are all just part of a shell game to them - accuse everyone who disagrees with them of being a bigot, say that their opinions are inviolate because they match that of literally any character who isn't a cis het white man, of which Bells Hells has none. Unsurprisingly, it's that social media purity culture that's just the evangelical church with a gay hat: they are always the victim, and everyone who disagrees is the devil, and being a good person always happens to line up with what you already wanted.

There are several posts from the past day or so accusing people of liking Campaign 3 less than the two previous ones which refused to accept that this might be due to the hurry-up-and-receive-an-infodump pacing, the singular focus without much time spent on backstory, the gaps in party composition, and the fact that the plot manages to combine the weakest elements of each campaign - the fetch quest/NPC guidance heavy nature of C1, and the meandering/slow start of C2. No, it must be the awful, sinful fandom unable to handle the lack of a major M/M ship (false; Dorian and Orym aren't canon, but neither were Vax and Gilmore, and the latter was sunk far sooner) and the fact that a female character is at the center of the story (see above re: how hostile the same people making these accusations have been to anyone who actually wants to discuss Imogen in a way that doesn't fit their specifications). Just to repeat this: many fans have outlined a number of purely narrative and structural reasons why C3 isn't working for them. These people have assumed this is all a lie, because assuming otherwise that would require either addressing these critiques, which in turn would require admitting other people can have valid opinions that oppose their own without being horrible bigots - in favor of throwing out whatever random accusations they think might stick. It doesn't matter what's actually being said; they're not actually listening, and for all they might talk about fans of color they sure all seem to be white; for all they talk about misogyny and queerphobia they sure won't hesitate to immediately assume the worst of queer people and women who say things they don't like. And rarely do they address any of the actual ongoing bigotry that does exist in the fandom; it's all random accusations because you agreed with the white woman instead of the brown man or vice versa; or it's the constant dredging of years past discourse that, as the first paragraph indicates, they will then ignore whenever convenient.

These are all pretty transparent signs of a bad faith actor spreading misinformation. To be clear I don't think this is any kind of conspiracy or has any organization to it. I think it's a just handful of deeply self-absorbed people who either refuse or literally cannot comprehend that someone could disagree with them without being a bad person and who will gleefully cry wolf with these accusations of bigotry. But it's been going on for quite some time and it's been a problem this campaign in a way I at least do not recall it in past ones, and it's had an absolutely devastating effect on the fandom conversation. Ironically, by trying to boost Imogen and Campaign 3 by shutting down any criticism of them, they've shut down far more of the conversation, hopefully not irreversibly, and I think it's time to point that out.

[fanaticsnail]

Hey! Hope you’re doing well this fine day~ I had a cute idea if u just wanna hear me rant about it.

So imagine teaching Killer a new pasta recipe whether that is a new sauce or new way to cook it and making it for him and watching him literally LIGHT UP with pure glee over how good it is. I say this as I’ve made my grandma’s spaghetti sauce which is STRAIGHT UP ADDICTING every time I make it and gobble it all up. Like the reader can be like a straw hat or kid pirate who is like hey I have this really yummy pasta recipe if you wanna try and afterwards she keeps on exchanging recipes with Killer and lowkey he in love with her mwahahaha (cause as they say in Princess and the Frog “the quickest way to a man’s heart, is through his stomach”). And she cooks it for him since he is always cooking ���🥹🥹

Also! I do have to add how much IM OBSESSED with the recent Hey Doc Drabble. Idk if you saw my tags but man I was GOING THROUGH IT. All the sweet nicknames and just the pure desperation for doc to be okay like 😭😭😭 and POOR HEAT AND BUBBLEGUM LIKE AWWWW I need a part 2 to that or SOMETHING just to see an aftermath if you will. Wire calling them “honey” had me WEAK.

Alright imma head out now, have a marvelous day/night 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️

How did I miss this 😭. Thank you for your beautiful compliments on the 'Hey Doc' series. It's been an absolute joy to write. Reading through tags and reblogs are my favourite: especially when it's as enthusiastic as yours has been. You're so much fun, and I very much appreciate the time you take to read and go through my silly things. I can't write a full fic, but I hope this little drabble satiates the need of cooking with Killer 🖤.

Pasta

Masterlist Here

Word Count: mini-fic, just a little one.

Themes: Killer x reader, fluff, cooking, food, Killer is in awe, you are cooking, and I am hungry.

The one thing he hasn't managed to perfect is a pure, unadulterated Marinara. Anything to do with crushed tomato he finds too acidic, and over compensates with far too much salt to cut the tannins. He's tried everything: more onion, less herbs, malted brown sugar, refining his own salt by storing sea water on the oven, everything. He just can't seem to get it right.

Killer and pasta: his one weakness.

He would never admit it, but he has been attempting to perfect each recipe he comes upon. Pesto is all made from scratch: crushed fresh basil, the purest of virgin olive oils, a parmesan wheel with crispy salt crystals, oven toasted pine nuts, cloves of bulbed garlic, everything perfected by his skill in his kitchen. His pesto pasta is better than Sanji's, and the curly-browed chef is both impressed and intimidated by it.

Watching from a safe distance as you bounce gleefully within the dominion of the kitchen, he hunches his back and places his whiskered chin over his laced fingertips. He was unsure as to why you offered to cook for the crew, but your enthusiasm had him step aside to watch you work. It was the initial confession of homesickness that did it for him. Knowing food can aid in emotional regulation and comfort, he was more than happy to watch from his position sitting at the kitchen island.

And then the smell hit him.

The sweetness of roasting tomatoes, onion, garlic, and the herbal aromatics of thyme, rosemary and sage. The soft waft had his heart swell and beat in his chest and eyes twinkle in curiousity. Stirring the rotund vegetables in the pot and expertly crushing them with the blunt tip of the wooden spoon had him sit up attentively in his seat, watching you as you attend to the sauce from muscle memory alone.

He was in awe, perplexed, and intrigued.

Each time you would move on to another element of the dish, Killer would move a little closer. Each time your back was turned, he would perch himself just a little more towards the simmering pot. When you moved to the pantry to decide which shape of pasta to begin to boil, you could barely make out the shape of Killer's mask being partially elevated over his lips and nose by one large hand. Using a fresh spoon, he dips it into the sauce and puckers his purple-tinted lips and extends a breath of cool air to stifle the heat.

As soon as the first drops meet his tongue, he can't help the soft moan that escapes him at the flavor. Upon your return with a bag of penne in hand, you are immediately hoisted into the air with Killer's hands beneath your arms. Gently spinning you before placing you on the ground, he claps his arms over your shoulders and leans down closer. The purple hue of his lips is stretched up in a smile, his joy at your sauce immediately having him taken aback and fullfilled in the knowledge that he now has the answer he desperately seeks.

"Teach me. Please."

And who were you to deny him? It was a family recipe, and this crew aboard the Victoria Punk was your new family. Gently raising one of your hands to cup over his on your shoulder, you crinkle your nose at him and nod with a smile to match his own.

"Yes, chef."

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady

[p0rk-guts]

"Pork you literally posted Charlie a few days ago why are you so Hazbin obsessed rn-" ssshhhhshhsshhs.h........ anyway

VAGGIE REDESIGN! And I changed her name also bc I'm jus like everyone else fr. Meet Verbena :)

BREAKDOWN BELOW!👇🏾+ Exorcist uniform redesign :3

Starting with her name this time. Back when she was still a sinner apparently she was Salvadorian and since she's (apparently?) not a former human at all I decided to take a small creative liberty with her decent and made her Venezualan instead. SOUTH AMERICUH❗❗✊🏾 I'm pretty sure Verbena flowers are native to South America so that's where the name comes from.

Onto the design! I don't have much to say abt her design honestly. It's not egregious, but it doesn't really speak to me either. It looks like simple formal wear or uniform with some strange meaningless accessories attached. And those weird itty bitty shoes that look like they're part of her thigh highs... I'm starting to think all the characters's shoes were a last minute afterthought. All and all it tells us nothing about her character. The hair wings are cool tho so I did steal those

Also the whole deal with her eye is strange to me. Why Is the floating X there??? It's a real physical part of the world, other people can see it. Do pink X's always float over angel wounds? If her arm got chopped off would an X float over it? Was it like. A fucking curse visual placed by Lute as a constant reminder of her disloyalty? Why did Carmilla point out it was an obvious marker for her being an angel???? My brain can't fathom why it's canonically attached to her wound. If she was a sinner I'd kinda understand but. Yeah idk. Weird

Also her missing eye does not look like an empty socket it looks like a purple circle was sticker pasted on to her face. It's very flat. How did we go from this

to this

(IT'S EVEN OVERLAPPING ONTO HER NOSE IN THIS SCREENSHOT WHAT IS THAT THING.)

Anyway. I made her hair resemble Polyphemus moth wings because 1. They have eye looking spots and angels are all eyes and 2. Well. Polyphemus has 1 eye. So . 💀

Her overall coloring however is inspired by a Promethea moth. I could say it's because Prometheus defied the gods and Verbena did a similar thing but the real reason is I made a spelling error while initially looking for a Polyphemus moth reference 💀 but hey they both have eye spots! And Iike their coloring for her way better

I also redesigned the exorcist uniform for her redesign bc I wanted her outfit to have reminiscent elements from it.

I gave way less time to the uniform designs, but I still had some main details I wanted to adress. I don't like how they have no armor save for their helmets. Their arm and leg pieces are made of some flexible material that tears easily. It's not giving soldier it's giving soldier costume from party city. The devil like horns are also confusing to see on an angel and the paradoxical design is never addressed. They can be evil and look imposing, but the horns just seem kinda nonsensically on the nose to show how evil they are. At least to me.

In my designs I gave them actual metal armor on their bodies so you can easily tell they're soldiers and it makes sense for them to battle in armor anyway. I also gave them more light "angelic" colors with gold details bc I wanna use gold as a symbol of angelic nature in my rewrite. I wanted their masks to show completely static expressions with wide grins to show how unnerving they are and to allude to the idea that everyone is happy in heaven, and they're all happy to do what they do.

Verbena's belt and shoulder pads draw visual similarities to the pauldrons and mid section pieces in my new exorcist uniforms to draw a connection between her and her past. The Blazer draping behind her back is also supposed to mimic the visual of folded wings. I also tried to do this with all the gold details in her design. The big hoops and belt we're 80's inspired because I decided to follow how in one of her old designs she died in the 60's (even had the big hoops and everything). In my rewrite exorcists are all former humans but I'll get into that later. Also she's got an eye patch now! Just. A normal one.

Charlie is still taller than Verbena just like in the original and idk how tall Vaggie Is exactly but Verbena is like 5'5 while Charlie is 5'11. Verbena's also got more muscle on her bc unless their muscle mass is hidden magically or they don't gain muscle for stupid dumb idiot lore reasons all the exorcists look way too slim to be military grade soldiers but what do I know

I combined a lot of pointy shapes with boxy shapes bc— more similarly to her pilot self— she can be volatile and fierce but also grounded and impassive. I added the slits to her skirt so she can be a sexy formal lady who can still comfortably throw a few kicks, and the heels— well. Idk I feel like she could slay in heels! She definitely doesn't wear em all the time but yeah. Chunky heels. I like them they're cute. Also she's got her little name tag on bc she takes Charlie's job for her SERIOUSLY! she's uh. Idk what is she. A bellhop? General security/protection? Either way she's locked in.

I imagine she had white irises like Adam and Lute along with brighter more saturated and heavenly colors in her hair (color picked from the Polyphemus moth) that turned darker and more harsh after the fall (color picked from the Promethea moth). Really visualizing her emo phase /j

Also I think the little eyes in her hair can emote with her. In the final design the line kinda makes an eyelid and it'd match her eyelid's movements. Sillay

Alright that's a wrap on my Vaggie redesign! No bonus sketches this time bc they're within the texts! Who knows what I'll do next. Who I will deface. I sure don't. I think I might rename Charlie so there's that. Anywhozies hope you like her <3

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part six

authors note: i'm very sorry in advance for how this ends, it was just getting wayyyy too long, and there was no good place to slice it in half, so i cut it before shit unfolds, so yes please don't hate me!!!

pairing: roman reigns x black!reader

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive dialogue, angst

song inspo: ‘with me’ by destiny’s child

words: 6.5k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“Whoa.”

Mariah’s reaction is expected. Your living room, specifically the sofa, is occupied by several of Callie’s dolls. A tea party that you were so kindly invited to attend this morning. 

“Girl, you should see her playroom. Pretty soon the floor is going to be non-visible.” 

A small part of you regrets not trying to straighten up before Mariah came over, but this is also your literal best friend. You know she’s seen more than almost anyone else in your life, and she would never judge you, let alone over the state of your apartment when she has a child of her own. 

Mariah looks over at you with a raised brow. “He did all this?” You nod. “Why?”

“Because she’s his little girl and of course he’s going to spoil her. A quote.” You chuckle as you and Mariah decide to just sit at the kitchen island. It’s probably best to leave the dolls untouched as Callie’s likely to wake up from her nap wanting to play again. 

Mariah gives you a look. “You don’t find that weird?”

Confused, you ask, “what?”

Mariah shrugs and circles the top of her water bottle with her index finger. “I don’t know. He just found out about her, and now he’s buying her stuff? Seems like he’s trying to buy her love.”

“You don’t know Joe.” It’s an easy dismissal, because you do know him and know that’s the last thing on his mind. “That’s not him at all. He just wants to see her happy.”

Mariah looks unfazed and stands ten toes down, adding on, “then he should be here full time instead of randomly popping in.” You just look at her, slightly confused where this is coming from. “I mean, I’m happy she’s getting to know him, but this is all so messy, you know? He’s married. He has a wife, and he’s coming here seeing his secret child with his secret mistress.”

You can only look at her, stunned by her words, even if a small part of you knows there’s some element of truth. Joe swiftly dodged the only question you’ve asked about how and when he’s going to tell his wife about Callie. It was a valid question that deserved an answer.  But the things Mariah is saying, you can’t tell if it angers you because it’s not true or hurts you because it is. 

She seems to detect your conflicted emotions and reaches over with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be negative. I just remember how hard it was for you when you and Joe broke up the first time. I hated seeing you so hurt.”

“We’re not together, Mariah. We’re coparenting.” You hate how soft your voice is, giving away that her words now have your head spinning. 

“So you honestly mean to tell me that you have no feelings for him? None whatsoever.” You can’t give her an answer, or either refuse to. It’s another valid question but the answer isn’t as simple for you to express. You know you feel something for Joe, but that could just be because of the fact that you two share a child together. There has to be some type of emotional connection between any two people who create life. “Exactly. Just be careful. He broke your heart once before. Don’t let him do it again.”

Your feelings are so mixed, agreeing with certain aspects of what’s being said and disagreeing with others. Mariah has triggered some big thoughts, ones that you probably should sort through at some point. You’re just not eager for right now to be that moment.

“Enough about me, what’s been going on with you?”

You pray she knows you well enough to know that you’re desperate to change the subject. “What do you mean?”

“I feel like we haven’t spoken much lately, and I know that’s partially on me. It’s just been a lot on my end, I’m sorry.” 

She shrugs. “It’s cool.”

Something tells you that she’s just saying that, and there’s a level of bitterness towards you for the distance. But, you can’t allow yourself to be hurt by that, because it’s fair. Mariah has been too good of a friend to be ditched the minute your ex comes back around. 

‘How are things with Caleb? Are you guys getting along any better?” Caleb and Mariah have only been married for two years but have already hit a rough patch, enough where he’s temporarily moved out of the house. Last you spoke with her, they were supposed to meet up to discuss what they were going to do, especially for the sake of Miach.

“Did you see him at my place last time you were there?” Her response is all you need to know that that is still a sensitive spot for her as well. Understandably so, but her shut down is so cold and unlike the sweet, gentle friend you’ve always known her to be. You were always known as the outspoken, brutal friend, though it seems that maybe as the years go by, the roles are reversing. 

Unless there's something else at play.

—-------

Today is going to be a good day. 

For Callie at least. 

Your earlier conversation with Mariah, who seemed far too eager to leave when you mentioned Joe would be arriving in less than two hours, is still circulating in your head. You know she’s only trying to look out for you, and you’re very appreciative of that, but there was some undertone to the way she spoke to you that you can’t shake off. Like, it wasn’t coming just from a place of concern, but something else that didn’t seem as genuine.

“Mommy, why are we cleaning?”

Because mommy is too broke for a maid.

You instead settle on the answer, “because we want our home nice and clean, baby.”

“But, it is clean.” She’s not entirely wrong, it’s just every so often you like to deep clean, dusting, mopping, the extra shit that usually isn’t done with daily cleaning. 

Taking a break from wiping down your kitchen counters with some overpriced cleaner you picked up from Target, you see Callie is ready to be done, the dust rag you’d given here now sitting on the coffee table.

With a heavy sigh, you ask, “you wanna play, don’t you?” Her eyes widen and her head nods enthusiastically. A quick glance at the clock indicates that Joe should be knocking at your door any minute, so you try to buy some more time. “Alright, let mommy finish here, and I’ll come play with you.”

“Yay!”

Chuckling, you listen to the sound of her run in the direction of her playroom while you finish scrubbing the counters, even if they’re as clean as they can get. It’s most likely a result of all the overthinking you’ve done the past few hours. The older you get, the more you realize you’ve become that ‘i’m anxious, so let’s clean until we’re physically exhausted’ mom. Which, technically, isn’t a horrible thing, but it’s also probably not the best way to deal with your emotions.

Not that you’ve always been the best with that either.

And that’s when you hear it, the solid two knocks you’ve been waiting for all morning. 

Smiling, you call out for Callie who marches out seconds later with a doll in her hand. “You wanna see who’s at the door for mommy?” Callie looks rightfully confused. At the same time you taught her how to open, close, and lock the door because you never know what can happen, you stressed to her that she is to never open it without permission or unless during an emergency. So, you emphasize, “it’s okay.”

Shrugging, she skips, literally skips to the door. You chuckle. This kid has so much damn personality. Moving to the sink to rinse your hands, you move slowly, waiting for it.

A loud gasp. “Joe!”

You can mentally picture the absolute surprise and happiness splashed over her little face. Grabbing the towel to dry your hands, Joe walks in holding Callie who you haven’t seen look so happy since the last time Joe was in town. 

“Mommy, Joe’s here!” 

Kids announcing the most obvious things will always be hilarious. “He sure is.” Leaning against the counter, you focus on him. “Hey.” He looks good, but he always looks good. That was always the damn problem.

He takes in you for a second, eyes lingering longer than what’s probably necessary, “hey.” He easily returns his attention back to Callie who can’t seem to stop smiling, which makes you smile. You love seeing her so happy. "I missed you."

"I missed you too!" She glances over at you, partially contrite. “Mommy, I’m gonna play with Joe instead, okay?”

You pretend to be shocked, standing upright and crossing your arms and making a face before laughing, waving her off.

“That’s fine, baby, because I am going to take a nap.” It’s much needed. Your sleep has been kinda shitty lately, and you know yourself well enough to know that exhaustion makes you bitchy. And the last thing you want is to unintentionally take that bitchiness out on her. Even Joe. Walking up to them, you poke him in his stomach. Jesus, he’s ripped. “Help yourself to anything. Just make sure she doesn’t destroy my house, please. And make her clean.”

At that, her face sours, and Joe chuckles.

“You got it.”

Satisfied, you walk back into your room, deciding to close the door. Callie will absolutely welcome herself in if need be. Plopping down on the mattress, you stare up at the ceiling, taking in a deep breath, momentarily stopping yourself from closing your eyes. For a second, you forget that Callie is not alone and unattended, thus preventing you from sleeping.

Call it being an anxious, overprotective parent, you’ve never allowed yourself to nap when it’s just the two of you. Even when she’s asleep, and when you do, you set an alarm to wake you up every ten minutes, just to make sure she’s still knocked out. It makes taking time to rest pretty difficult, if not impossible, but it’s what makes you comfortable.

It’s an easy sacrifice to make for your child.

So having another adult around, her dad, of all people, is a nice feeling. You know she’s safe and watched over. And it’s what allows you to actually fall into a peaceful slumber. 

Just for a little bit.

—-------

It is, in fact, just for a little bit.

Because you’re awoken by your phone ringing, your mom on the other end wondering what time she can expect you and Callie to come over.

Shit. 

You completely forget that you’d agreed to bring Callie to see her as it’d been “too long," according to her. You partially agreed, realizing you haven’t visited your mom since the day everything went down, what with you reaching out to Joe again and that whole fiasco.

And that’s another thing.

Your mother has no idea he’s back in the picture.

Walking out of the room, you find them in the living room, of course, watching Toy Story 2. 

Callie’s eyes light up when she sees you, but that doesn’t pull her from her position, tucked right under Joe’s side on your sofa. If you had your phone, you’d try to snap a picture. 

“That wasn’t long,” he snickers, and you glare, stopping yourself from flipping him off.

You move over to the sofa, sitting on the armrest. “That’s cause my mom called and woke me up.”

“Grandma?”

Nodding, you explain to both Callie and Joe. “I forgot we were supposed to go visit her today.”

She moves up on her knees, asking, “can we go?” She looks over at Joe. “Joe can come with us!”

You consider her suggestion. Your mom didn’t even find out about Joe until you told her you were pregnant. You kept that part of your life a secret from her for good reasons. This doesn’t seem like the best way for her to find out, to drop it on her yet again. However, one look at Callie’s desperate expression, and you already know your answer.

“Of course,” you then add on, “if he wants to.” 

Callie, being Callie, answers for him. “He wants to!” She tugs on his sleeve, excitement bubbling. “You can meet my grandma!”

You glance over at him, “are you sure? I’m sorry, I know this was supposed to be one on one with her….”

He shakes his head, cutting you off. “If she wants to go, let’s go.”

You nod, praying this doesn’t end up being a bad idea.

—-------

“Mama!” You call out, watching Joe shut and lock the door behind him. Seeing that allows you to focus on where the hell your mother is. She usually meets you at the door when she knows you’re coming over. “Where is this woman?”

The car drive was pleasant enough, Callie talking almost the entire time, as expected. And Joe eating it up the whole time, also, as expected. 

You can see now he’s definitely going to be that dad. The dad who finds anything and everything his kid does to be adorable. You can’t wait for him to be on the receiving end of one of Callie’s temper tantrums and see how he handles it. 

“Grandma!” Callie suddenly calls, all the while keeping her hand in Joe’s. “I’m here!”

Finally, the sound of footsteps from upstairs as your mom comes down the stairs, home phone, yes, a home phone, held between her ear and shoulder. “I told her Bishop wasn’t gonna go for that, but you know how she is. Old fool.” It’s when she’s in the vicinity to see that it’s not just you and Callie, her eyes grow wide. “Cheryl, let me call you back.” 

Damn. 

You know that tone, that ‘let me talk to you’ tone. 

Thankfully, you get a brief save. The sight of your mom makes Callie drop Joe’s hand to sprint off to meet her on the steps. “Grandma!”

She leans down to pick up Callie, smothering her with kisses. “My favorite little lady.” 

Callie giggles as your mom descends from the steps, Callie on her hip, to approach you and Joe who’d, wisely, remained quiet up until this point. 

You watch your mom’s eyes land on him, but before she can say anything, Callie jumps in. 

“Grandma, this is Joe! He’s mommy’s friend and mine too!”

Fuck. Your mom’s eyes travel between him and Callie, once, twice, and on the third time, you know. You just know that she knows.

And that’s when you jump in, knowing you desperately need to speak with her. “Callie, why don’t you show Joe the play area?” 

Her eyes blaze with enthusiasm as your mom places her back on the ground. Callie’s little feet carry her back over to Joe who seems to understand you need to talk with your mother.

“Come on!” Taking his hand, she begins to direct him to the back of the house and through the sliding door. 

Your mom waits until she knows the two of you are alone to speak. “Girl, you done got my blood pressure all up.”

“Mama—”

“That’s Callie’s daddy, ain’t it?” She doesn’t even give you time to answer. “Don’t try to lie, either. She looks just like him.”

There’s no need in denying the obvious. “Yes.”

Her mouth drops open in rightful shock. “And just when did you plan to tell me he was back in the picture?” The questions keep coming, understandably so considering how you’ve just dropped this on her. “And why is she calling him by his first name?”

“Because she doesn't know,” you answer the second question, hating the disappointed look on her face. “We–he hasn’t told her yet.” 

“It just keeps getting worse.” She’s rubbing her temple and you just know she’s gonna need to take an Excedrin before the night is over. “Tell me everything. Now.”

And so, you do, starting with Callie’s initial question about her dad, to your phone call with Joe, his visit where he confirmed he had a daughter, all of it. And when you’re done, your mom is visibly shaken.

“Lord, he found out about her through social media?” You still feel badly about that, about a lot of it. “Well….does his wife know?”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so. We haven’t really talked about that yet.” Before your mom can protest, you add, “we will. I’ll make sure of it. He just wants to get to know her first. For himself.”

Your mom chuckles, obviously having studied the close interaction between the two of them in the few minutes she’s been privy to see them engage with one another. “seems like that’s already a done deal.” 

“Yeah,” you smile warmly. “He’s really good with her.”

And it’s the truth, Joe seems to be naturally good with a lot of things, but there’s something so impressive about his ability to interact and connect with Callie. It’s so natural. 

“So, are you two…..”

“No,” you shut that down immediately. “We’re just trying to navigate coparenting.”

Your mom nods but doesn’t say anything, and you know her well enough to know it’s because she doesn’t entirely believe you. But, she won’t push.

“Well.” She claps her hands together, nodding to the backdoor. “Let me go properly introduce myself, since you got me out here looking rude. Probably got that boy thinking I don’t like him.”

“I promise, he’s not like that.” You two start walking toward the backyard where you’re certain Callie is talking a hole in his head, describing the play area your mom put together just for her when she spends the night.

She places her hand on the sliding door but pauses to look at you, “let me just say this though, that is one fine young man. I see now why you had a hard time letting him go. The devil sure knows how to tempt people.”

“Mama!” You try to suppress your laughter as the two of you walk out, sure enough to find Callie on the swing, Joe pushing her as they share their own conversation. 

She walks up to him, wearing a warm smile, giving a wink to Callie. “I’m so sorry about that. My daughter just didn’t tell me you were gonna be here.” 

Joe, forever respectful, starts to indirectly apologize.  “I hope it's not a problem. If so, I can—”

She waves him off, “oh, hush.” She leans in to whisper, “you’re practically family.” He returns her smile as she introduces herself by name, he offers his, and your wonderful mother then informs, “well, this one is gonna help me tend to my garden, cause winter will be here before we know it.” She leans down and kisses the top of Callie’s head, as she’s stopped swinging and is instead sitting. Her eyes light up at the idea of gardening with your mom. The same way you used to garden with your grandma. A bit of a tradition being passed down. “And in the meantime, you two can go finish organizing the office.” 

Your eyes widen. No wonder she didn’t hear you all coming in right away. That room, once your bedroom, became your mom’s storage area and over the years has accumulated stuff on top of stuff. Nowhere near a hoarding level, but just a lot of things that she doesn’t want to part with but needs to organize. “Mama, that's not—”

“I don't want to hear no complaining. You really want me up on that ladder?” You roll your eyes, realizing she’s referring to the top of your old closet where she keeps the storage bins of memorabilia, mostly photos. “I'm not getting any younger. What if I fall? Then you gon feel bad.”

“You're so dramatic.” Your mom acts like she's 75 and at death's door sometimes. The woman is 52 and teaches a Zumba class at the rec center every Saturday. She could fall and jump right back up like nothing happened. 

She places her hand on Joe’s arm, smiling slyly. “You got this strong, handsome man to help you out.” One thing you’ve learned as you’ve gotten older is that your tendency to unintentionally flirt from time to time 100% came from your mother. Clearly. “Besides, if you do fall, you'll be fine. You got enough booty back there to cushion it.”

“Mama!” One glance at Joe, and you see him make a face that reads clearly 'she's not entirely wrong.’ At that, you shove him, not that it does anything. He's solid as a rock. “Fine, we'll organize your mess, but not for long. Joe is only in town until tomorrow night, and he did not come here to be a part of your cleaning crew.”

“I don’t mind,” Joe adds. Of course, he doesn't. He hasn’t seen it yet, and he’s a gentleman. “Whatever you need help with, I’ll do it.”

Your mom gives you another look and then looks at him. “I like you, Joseph.”

Callie lifts her head, adding, “I like him too!”

I like him too.

“Well, get to it. When we’re done, ya’ll can help me fix some dinner.” Her eyes then land on you. “Well, not you. You can make the lemonade or something.”

Joe coughs awkwardly, poorly hiding his laughter. “I’m getting really sick of ya’ll coming for me and my poor cooking skills.”' 

Your mom directs Callie to grab her caddy with their needed gardening supplies. “Baby, you are a lot of things, but a cook ain’t one of them.” She points at Joe, sharing, “remind me to tell you the story about how she almost burned down my house.”

“Okay, we’re gonna go now.” You grab Joe’s hand and lead him back into the house toward the stairs, which he motions for you to go up first, realizing after the fact that he probably did so to stare at your ass. 

This man….

Entering your former bedroom, you stretch your arm to show you just what you signed up for. He walks in, clearly surprised. “Okay.”

“Yup.” There’s items scattered all over, your mom clearly in the middle of trying to categorize the millions of family photos ya’ll have. “Still don’t mind?”

He shrugs forever unbothered. “There’s two of us. We’ll get it done.”

Sucking your teeth, you look around, trying to figure out where the hell to start. “Your optimism is annoying.”

Chuckling, his smartass remarks, “Glass half full, baby. Glass half full.”

“Yeah, yeah, well glass your ass over there and reach me the ladder. I need the box these pictures can go in from the top.” 

He follows where you’re pointing but also gestures to the closet. “That one?” Joe makes a sound and instead of following your directions, casually walks over to said closet, reaches up and grabs the box with all the ease of someone who’s 6’3. 

Smug expression on his face, he hands it to you as you glare. “Show off.”

Joe assesses you, eyes settling on your chest before redirecting them to your face. “Maybe I should have let you get up there. View and all.”

Holding back your smile is difficult, so you settle for biting on your bottom lip and bumping his side as you move past him. “Shut up.” You know his gaze is on you and that should bother you, his flirty comment should bother you, but it doesn’t.

It doesn’t at all.

—-------

“I still can’t believe you were a cheerleader.” 

There’s probably been a decent combination of conversation and organization in your time working together to ‘unmess’ your mom’s mess. That’s not entirely surprising though. Joe has always been immensely easy to talk to, to be around. And you couldn’t deny that you missed this kind of interaction with him, the most and maybe first since he’s re-entered your life. You wholly understand why he spends and devotes most of his time with Callie, but there’s a small part of you that’s missed this. 

Missed it being just the two of you. 

Chuckling, you comment, “you’re not the first. I was….different in high school and college than I am now.”

He’s intrigued, asking, “how?”

“Well, for one, I don’t party damn near every night anymore.” One thing you could never deny about your early days was that you always liked to have a good time, liked to make your expected appearances at whatever party of the week, or day, was happening. “Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t drink or smoke. That was never my thing. I just….I liked to have fun, probably too much fun more often than not.” You chuckle to yourself, grabbing a stack of photos to put in the container. “Now, I like to be in bed by 9:30, 10 at the latest.”

He smiles and looks over at the wall that still has many of your cheer accolades proudly displayed. “Obviously, you were pretty damn good.”

Shrugging, you push some of your hair behind your ear. Not that it does much. Your curls have always been voluminous and wild. “I was, but….it came at a cost to some extent. Cheer is insanely competitive, and I didn’t always handle that the best.”

Competitiveness was something you deeply struggled with when you were younger. Feeling like you had to be the best, not even better than anyone else per se, but the best that you could be. Always trying to prove that you were good enough.

Looking back now, you have a solid guess of where that came from and what drove it. 

Joe’s studying you, trying to gauge your comfort level with this conversation. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it,” you answer, honestly. “Until I didn’t. Shortly before college, I think, is when the love started to fade.”

“But you cheered in college too, didn’t you?”

You nod, explaining, “I got a scholarship for cheer, and I wasn’t about to put that stress on my mom to have her help me figure out how to pay for school when I had an easy ride.” Around that time is when your relationship with your mom started to strengthen, and the last thing you wanted to do was risk messing it back up by being selfish. You’d cheered damn near your whole life, what was another 4 years? 

“I like your mom,” he announces, almost suddenly. It’s unsurprising. Most people do. But, there is something that pleases you about her tentative approval of him and now his of her. 

“She’s really great. I don’t know what I would do without her, and Callie adores her.” You look over at him, playfully. “Not as much as she adores you, though.”

You can see the delight in his eyes. “Yeah?”

His disbelief surprises you. How can he not see how crazy Callie is over him? “Are you kidding me? That lil girl already doesn’t shut up, but she really doesn’t shut up about you. It’s Joe this, Joe that. The first thing she asks me when I pick her up from school is always if she can call you.” Deciding this is a perfect segue, you add on, carefully. “You know….you should tell her. I can promise you, she won’t be upset. She’s gonna be thrilled.”

She already loves you.

You don’t know if it’s too soon to say that, if it’s something you should even say vs let him hear from Callie herself. You just know that there’s probably very little he could do at this point to make Callie not love him. She’s hooked.

“Christmas,” he announces, adding, “I’ll tell her when I come back for Christmas.” 

This surprises you, as he hasn’t discussed his next visit up until this point. You also don’t feel the need to comment or counter his plan and timeline to tell Callie. You can’t think of a better Christmas gift for her. “You got the time off?”

He nods, providing specifics. “I’ll be here the day before Christmas Eve. Gotta fly back out on the 26th though.”

“Stay with us.” Where this comes from, you’re not sure, but there’s not a lot of regret once it's released. “I know you hate that damn hotel, and Callie would be thrilled to have you around 24/7.” Getting up off the floor, you carry the now filled container and move up the ladder you’d used a couple times because he’d been preoccupied organizing other areas. Sliding it back in the same spot, you descend down the steps only to feel strong hands grip your waist. 

Bringing you to the ground, he carefully turns you around, but that’s not what you’re focused on. What you’re focused on is how close he is to you, your chests nearly touching, his eyes burning into you. Instantly, your stomach is knotting. You know that look, know it all too well. 

“Joe….” Your voice is soft, much softer than it needs to be when trying to assert yourself. And you hate yourself for the tiny sigh that leaves your mouth when he brings his palm to your cheek. “We—we can’t—”

“I’m divorced.”

This man, so fine and kind, and damn near pressed against you is distracting, so much so that you’re briefly disconnected from what he’s just said. But, it’s forcing yourself to come back to reality that his words truly hit you. You’re not sure you could have ever guessed that statement would ever leave his mouth. 

Slightly in shock, staring at him with bewilderment, you stammer, “w–what?”

“Two months ago, Jadah and I filed for divorce. It was uncontested, and the state of Florida is one of the quickest when it comes to processing these things.” His other hand moves to your hip, holding you still, as if he knows you want to move away from him. “I got notice it was finalized a few days ago.”

You’re listening, you really are, but hearing is another story. This has to be some type of sick joke, some type of cruel prank ripped directly out the pages of a journal kept and maintained so long ago. Cause you’d absolutely written about this at one point, written about what it would be like if he were to leave his wife. 

You just never could have anticipated it would one day become a reality.

“I—I don’t understand.” Joe only found out about Callie less than a month ago, so there’s no way she was the reason for the split. Still, you have to ask. “Wh–why?”

Something flashes in his eyes. Hurt. “It was long overdue.” He doesn’t say anything beyond that, and while you expected more, you can also see there’s more to the story. More that he’s not saying, but it’s the brief glimpse of pain that prevents you from pushing. Whatever it is, it’s clearly difficult for him to discuss. 

“Oh.” It’s a stupid thing to say, but you’re truly in a state of shock and don’t know what else to say. 

The biggest and only issue that ever existed between yourself and Joe has always been his marriage, the fact that he was already taken. It was the only reason you ever broke it off with him, but now, he’s standing before you, telling you that this is no longer the case.

You’re all of the emotions: confused, nervous, happy, hopeful, and so many more that you can’t even label.

“I didn’t say anything at first, because meeting Callie was my priority. Establishing a relationship with her was a priority. And it still is, but…..” Your eyes shut as he drops his head in the crook of your neck. “I’ve missed you.” Your hands gradually lift to lay against his chest as he sighs into you, ‘I’ve missed everything about you.” Eyes remaining shut, your nails claw gently against him as he moves his mouth over your neck. “The way you smile, the way you laugh.” His hand on your back slowly inches downward. “The way you taste.” Your breath catches as his teeth graze your collarbone. “The way you feel when I’m inside you.”

“Joe,” you breathe, the air suddenly thick, your throat tight. Breathing is incredibly arduous in this moment. “I—”

“Mommy! Joe!”

Joe’s suddenly across the damn room, it seems like, as Callie enters at both the perfect and worst time with a smile, completely oblivious to what she’s just interrupted. “Grandma said come eat!”

Frowning, you glance at the clock and realize it’s most definitely dinner time and that your mom had most likely just had Callie help her prepare the meal instead of asking you two to help.

Huh.

She moves across the room, tackling Joe from the side and craning up her head as she excitedly asks, “Wanna see what I made? Grandma helped me!”

Leaning down to pick her up, he answers, “of course, I wanna see.” He begins to walk out the door as Callie calls out for you to follow behind.

And you will. 

You just need a moment.

Because what the hell just happened?

—-------

I’m divorced.

It keeps playing in your head, on a vicious repeating cycle, like that annoying song the radio plays every 15 minutes, forcing it down your throat.

For almost the entire time you were together, you infrequently allowed yourself to dream about what your life would be like if the circumstances were different, if he wasn’t already taken. If he wasn’t already married. And each time only left you feeling worse than before, because it was stupid. You were three years deep into the situationship; if he hadn’t left his wife by then, he wasn’t leaving her period.

It was a harsh pill that took you forever to swallow.

And even then, you knew that you could never be happy. Not with the knowledge that he’d left his wife for you. It may be bliss initially, but the guilt would have eaten you up and ruined things regardless.

So accepting and telling yourself that it would never work out long-term was what kept your head above water, especially in the two months after you broke things off. And once you learned you were pregnant with Callie, there was a new kind of stress, a new kind of distraction.

Not that it made you forget about him. Hardly.

Every check up, every milestone, every kick, your mind would wander to him. Wander to a fantasy world where you imagined he was with you every step of the way, the two of you preparing together for the arrival of your first child.

Even as the years went on and Callie got older, you still would find yourself from time to time imagining how different things would be if he was around.

Well, now he is. He’s not only around, but he’s going to be actively involved in Callie’s life for the rest of her life.

And he’s now single.

All of this makes for one fucked up emotional rollercoaster ride.

Dinner is an experience, only for you, maybe Joe to some extent. He’s always had a tendency to compartmentalize emotions though, unlike yourself. Granted, if it was a struggle for him, he did a damn good job not showing it. It also probably helped a ton that Callie talked a hole in his and your mom’s head.

You knew your mom could see something was up with you but graciously opted to not ask you any questions. You wouldn’t have any answers to give her anyway. 

And you indicated as much when you were back at your apartment, and Callie in her room gathering her favorite pajamas for bed. 

“I just need time to think.” 

It’s all you can offer him, because it’s the truth. There’s so much more to consider than you could have imagined, and it’s really hard to contemplate when you still have Mariah’s voice oscillating in the back of your mind, your insecurities, and even your mom. 

So many differing perspectives, it’s hard to focus and hear your own.

Thankfully, he accepts that answer, and you accept that you’re running out of different ways to escape confronting your own emotions. 

Maybe.

Because this day has already been exceedingly long, and you’re more emotionally exhausted than anything. So when Callie comes to you complaining of a tummy ache, you administer her Children’s Tylenol, lay with her until she falls asleep, and take advantage of this rare opportunity to turn your brain off and just rest.

The hard shit could wait.

—-------

“Mommy!”

There's a certain tone every person has that's reserved for emergencies, saved for moments when something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

This is one of those moments.

You nearly trip with how quickly you jump out the bed and sprint down the hall to Callie’s room. Hitting the light switch, your stomach drops when you see her.

On her side, in a fetal position, crying profusely. 

Rushing over to her, you see too that she's pale and a hand to her forehead reveals she's burning up. Sheer panic climbs up your body, settling into your stomach and the back of your throat. Still, you do your best to not show her your fear.

“Baby, is it your tummy?” You take a hand to feel her stomach, but she screams out in pain, making you jump from her reaction.

“Mommy, it hurts,” she sobs, and you're instantly moving the blankets off her, already knowing what you need to do. 

Hand on her forehead, you assure, “I’lll be right back, okay?”

You rush back into your room, sliding on the first pair of shoes that you come across. You grab your phone off the nightstand and throw it in your purse, all in under a minute, still too long. And as soon as you're back in her room, you waste no time in lifting her into your arms. 

She winces, so you reassure, “come on, baby. It's okay, you're gonna be okay.”

It's what you're telling yourself, the only thing keeping you from panicking. Unsure and uncaring at this moment if you lock the front door behind you, you carry her down the steps and into the dark of night, carefully but quickly buckling her into her carseat.

Hating to see her continue to cry, to be in pain, you kiss her forehead, “I’m gonna get you some help, okay? We're going to the hospital.”

She can only nod, and your eyes water. Your forever talkative child is rendered speechless by her pain. It crushes you.

Hopping into the driver's seat, you grab your phone, trembling fingers locating the address of the hospital. You hit share and send it to Joe before pressing the call button and tossing your phone into the passenger seat to zoom out of the parking lot.

Your phone is connected to your vehicle, ringing three times before he picks up, voice heavy with sleep. “Hey.”

“I need you to meet me at the hospital. I already sent you the address.” You do your best to remain calm and collected, to not scare Callie more than she's already scared. Even if you’re fucking terrified. “Something is wrong with Calista.”

[ntls-24722]

FNAF FANARTISTS!!!!!!!!!!! DJ MUSIC MAN AND MUSIC MAN ARE NOT THE SAME CHARACTER

many times, when fnaf artists are requested to draw music man/dj music man, they get them mixed up!!! which is reasonable!!!!!!! we know almost nothing about them, google mixes them up constantly, and a certain matpat meme has only made it more confusing!

They all have very similar faces, but they've got some staggering differences!!!!! so im detailing them and also giving some trivia/our known knowledge of them!!!

MUSIC MAN (FFPS)

The OG music man! He made his debut in FFPS/Pizzeria Simulator and makes another appearance in UCN. He is!!! weird!!

He's not built like a spider-centaur, he's literally like a minecraft creeper with a torso and a bunch of legs at the bottom.

He's got a design unlike any other fnaf animatronic, even deviating from the style of the human ones, though this is speculated to be because he seems to have design elements from enemies and bosses from Scott Cawthon's other game, The Desolate Hope.

He's described to have "something undesirable" inside him (it's never explained what) and in the Posh Pizzeria group he is the only one to have a liability risk at times - in UCN he's the only one of the posh pizzeria that can and will kill you. Also, weirdly enough, in UCN he's the only animatronic other than the original Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy to use the FNAF 1 scream. Despite being called Music Man, his gimmick in UCN is that he hates noise and you need to keep it down for him to not kill you - music also counts as noise for him.

He's voiced by Matthew Curtis, who also voices nightmare Balloon Boy, here are his lines for UCN!

DJ MUSIC MAN (Security Breach)

DJ Music Man! (Always abbreviated to DJMM in-game)

If MM is built like a creeper then DJ is built like a pig - he's Horizontal and looks more spider-y

There's even less info on him, but here goes:

He's a party host who makes up all of his music on the spot, but in between sessions he cleans around the Plex! The reason why he goes nuts and tries to kill Gregory is that he has an experimental but prohibited bouncer mode that was turned on, which is why he's chill afterwards. He also doesn't speak, unlike Music Man.

BONUS: WINDUP MUSIC MAN (Security Breach)

Windup Music Man!

Designwise they're almost identical to MM, but they look like they got microwaved and scraped across asphalt at mach 10. And also got a windup key stuck in their back. And TINY

Ingame they're described to be a prototype of Music Man that escaped the little museum part of the Plex, and that's all we really know. Other than that, their dynamic together is kind of comparable to a bunch of ants working together. They also JUMP and can be seen conversing/playing together.

ALSO: Those cymbals are not legs, they just have a really weird stance similar to actual tarantulas.

There's technically 394 Windup Music Men because the game randomly generates them from a collection of fucked up parts.

There's no height indication for Music Man but here's one for the security breach cast by @/musings-of-astromonster

happy music man-ing

[seramilla]

So how would Vaggie react to learning she’s now wrapped up in an arranged marriage? And since this is before she falls…does that mean Charlie is in her emo phase still??

Vaggie is really intimidated at being betrothed to the literal princess of Hell. Of course, she knows who Charlie is -- there isn't a person in Heaven or Hell who doesn't. Some years past, however, in her late teens, Charlotte Morningstar had gained somewhat of a reputation for being a rebel. Before she graduated from Hell High School, the Heaven tabloids used to publish stories of Charlie with a lot of unflattering photos of the young demon, wearing her hair and wardrobe black, reporting that she'd been running around with some wild characters, going to raves and parties, getting in trouble, and generally causing a lot of debauchery, even by Hell's standards.

Charlie has managed to stay out of the public eye for the last few years since she's come of age. Honestly, it's anyone's guess what the princess is really like these days. Only Sera, the High Seraphim of Heaven, and the one primarily responsible for finding Charlie's betrothed, assures Vaggie that the princess is nothing like what the media says. She doesn't do anything so rebellious now, and a lot of those tales were highly exaggerated anyway. Charlie is a perfectly delightful, upstanding citizen, and she assures Vaggie she will love her to pieces!

They ultimately meet at a party. One of those swanky, posh soirées that the nobility of both realms like to hold at the Heaven embassy in Hell. Sera is in attendance with her own wife, Carmilla, and they are off doing their own thing. Vaggie stands there in her white gown and fancy shoes that Sera bought her for the occasion, with her hair tied up in an elaborate bun. She stands next to some other highbrow angels, feeling completely awkward and out of her element. No one is talking to her.

She stays near the punch bowl and snack table, nibbling on things throughout the night to curb her own anxiety. She feels so out of place. She hasn't even been introduced to anyone, let alone Charlie! She's starting to wonder why she's even here at all.

It's not until a very beautiful, very coquettish woman in a red gown comes up to stand beside her, holding out her hand to be shaken. Vaggie looks down at her hand, and then up at her. She's tall. Very tall. Maybe around Carmilla's height, or a little less. The woman looks nervous, and she's blushing slightly, unable to meet Vaggie's gaze directly. Her other hand moves up to push stray locks of hair from falling in her face.

"H-hi!" the woman says, with a genuine smile. "I'm Charlie! You must be Vaggie! Carmilla has told me so much about you. I wanted to come say hello earlier, but I don't get to meet many angels. And you're just so... so pretty. Oh, shit, did I say that out loud? Forgive me! I admit, I was a little intimidated at meeting you. But I didn't want to be rude."

Vaggie looks at Charlie again. The princess is still holding out her hand, now biting her bottom lip in anticipation of Vaggie shaking it. Vaggie does. Charlie's fingers grip hers tightly, manicured red nails grazing lightly against Vaggie's hand. Vaggie maybe shakes Charlie's hand a little too hard, and takes a little too long to pull away.

"Va-vaggie. Yes, my name is Vaggie. Please! The pleasure is all mine, princess, I assure you."

That gets a laugh out of Charlie. She's beaming brightly now, like a light illuminating the otherwise dull illumination of the room. Like a morning star. Now Vaggie is the one blushing, as she listens to her talk about nothing in particular.

Oh, this! This...Vaggie thinks she could get used to this. She could get used to this very well!

[vidavalor]

Well, Aziraphale went Down like a...

Bullet = lead.

Ball = root word of balloon.

...lead balloon.

Loon (contained within balloon): a rascal.

Rascal: from rabble, meaning: a mob.

Loon: a diving bird. A bird with a love for diving into the sea.

Loon: a boor. Boor: from bovis & bos, meaning cow or ox.

Boor: a farmer; a dweller. Someone who is part of a community.

Loon: One who dives; a diver. A fall involves a dive.

Loon: A mentally unbalanced or an eccentric person; from lunacy.

Heaven's ideas are, as Crowley accurately put it, lunacy.

Loon: An ember-goose. Geese: you know, as Muriel would say: big, cross ducks.

Cross: to be upset, especially angry. You don't want to cross Aziraphale when he's cross.

Also: the thing Jesus was murdered on.

Embers: the small, still-burning bits of a dying fire.

But...

Embers: the small, still-burning bits of a dying fire that are often used to stoke that fire back up to a roaring blaze.

The essential element of a fire that never dies.

Lead: Alternate meanings: one who goes first..

...and one who acts as a guide. So, Crowley...

Lead: Alternate meanings: primary; main. The character whose story arc forms the outline of the story. So, Aziraphale...

Bullet: from French boulette, meaning cannonball and small ball.

Ball: a three-dimensional, round object. Also: a party.

Information that "goes down like a lead balloon" is information that generates a negative response in the recipient.

Like when you tell off a fascist floating head over Heavenly Zoom like the total badass that you are... but then he decides he doesn't like it so he lets Satan have at tempting you... and then Satan shows up the next morning looking like said fascist floating head guy to help with his temptation because the fascist floating head is the only person who can give you the power you think you need to more fully protect the love of your life... which also just so happens to be the only thing that would ever, ever, ever tempt you to Hell...

Aziraphale already having spoken to The Metatron the night before seems to be implied in this bit here:

A "Lead Balloon": A balloon made of lead, which is heavy metal. The heaviness of the lead inhibits the balloon's ability to float in the air. It is too weighed down to be its otherwise light, joyous, balloon self. Ahhh, the scent of Aziraphale metaphor...😊

A lead balloon, by design, is never going to be able to stay Up. It's unlikely it ever was truly, fully Up in the first place.

The lead balloon is always going to fall Down.

From its beginning, its fall has been inevitable.

To "bite the bullet": An expression meaning to accept an impending difficult situation or hardship and endure the pain of going through it with fortitude.

To bite a bullet (literally) is to successfully survive The Bullet Catch.

The expression is thought to have originated from doctors who would have patients bite down on a lead bullet in order to redirect their focus enough to help them endure the pain during an operation that was occurring without anesthetics.

I'm not suggesting any bullet-paralleling shenanigans here; Crowley is a metaphorical bullet here enough as it is. This kiss is as painful as an operation without anesthetics, though...

An operation (in espionage): organized spying on and manipulation of enemy targets.

An operator: an effective, clever manipulator.

A lift operator: a person who operates the buttons in an elevator.

As we know, in Britain, what Aziraphale gets into is referred to as a lift. In the United States, it is called an elevator. This lift/elevator is in the doorway to a pub-- The Dirty Donkey. Why this location for the lift/elevator, of all the shops on Whickber Street?

Are you going to be surprised at this point to learn that I think there's a word-related reason? 😂

Elevated: Slang for being drunk, off of the notion that being drunk is experiencing a kind of high.

A high, though, is not necessarily an experience of elevation; it is just a generic term for any mental experience that is outside the norm, due to the influence of an ingested substance or substances.

A high? Can bring you down.

In Crowley's foreshadowing/paralleling case in 1827, he was elevated from the laudanum-laced wine when he was dragged down to Hell.

Alcohol is what they sell in The Dirty Donkey where the elevator/lift is.

Alcohol is not a stimulant. It may appear to send you up... but it does not actually physically send you up, no matter what it appears to be doing on the surface.

Alcohol is a depressant. Alcohol sends your body down...

It also can come with a real crash down if you have too much of it. That crash down, as we know, is called a hangover. Remember when we heard that term used in S2?

From Crowley, when Hell first showed up on Whickber Street and started to circle closer to Aziraphale:

A hangover (one of two original meanings): a thing left over from before. Like the fact that Satan and The Metatron were pretty pissed off about the end of S1. Like the fact that S2's cliffhanger, hangover ending is going to carry into the plot of S3.

Elevated is a slang term that uses language of "going up" (elevated; high) to actually describe "going down" (drunk; depression).

That other, original meaning of a hangover, though?

A survival. 😊

[blacknedsoul-blog]

Nevermore is a gothic tragedy. Part I: The Tragedy

This essay assumes that you've read the first season of Nevermore. If you haven't, you'll be eating spoilers.

First of all, a disclaimer: you won't find the term "Gothic tragedy" in theory books, because I just pulled it out of my sleeve. But it seemed appropriate to put it in those terms because, hey, beyond theoretical structuring, genres are also used as a guide to content, and that's kind of what I want to express with this.

Partly because I've noticed that I've called this comic a tragedy on more than one occasion, and talked at length about Lenore and Annabel as gothic characters, but never bothered to delve into these matters, and with the hiatus until (possibly) October, I think it's time to rectify that situation.

But also because I think there are a lot of things in this story that fall into place if you read it under the logic of those genres.

Originally, this was going to be a single essay, but it turns out it took over 2000 fucking words just to explain why it's a fucking tragedy, so I'm going to split this shit in two because I don't want to burn anyone's eyes out.

Tragedy and Types of Tragedy

This is the ridiculously abridged version because this is a really long story, if you want more information on the subject I highly recommend reading Aristotle's Poetics, Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy or watching this OSP video for a more proper introduction. If you're interested in Shakespearean tragedy, The Cambridge Shakespeare is a amazing compilation, and here's the essay that talks specifically about what the hell Shakespearean tragedy is.

Tragedy has been linked to the origins of theater as such, found in the festivals dedicated to Dionysus (if you want to know more about the cult of Dionysus, you can watch this video to start), where poetry contests were held, specifically of dithyrambs: lyric compositions dedicated specifically to Dionysus. This later led to the inclusion of an increasingly sophisticated chorus using masks. This was no longer poetry, but the first expressions of theater as we understand it in modern times, at least for Europe and the countries colonized by Europeans.

Nietzsche also points out that tragedy condenses within itself two opposing impulses represented in the gods Apollo and Dionysus, expressed in the terms "Apollonian" and "Dionysian": order, mathematics and music (understood by the Greeks as science) vs. party, debauchery and chaos. The clash between the beautiful and the grotesque (understanding that the "beautiful" can be disturbing and the "grotesque" can be strangely beautiful). This description is not entirely literal, of course, but it must be kept in mind that in order to have the fundamentals of a tragedy, one must have these two elements: order and chaos. A synchronized waltz between the rigid structures and the rupturing.

Yes, those two are enough.

Step by step, I think it is important to point out what are the transversal elements to tragedy - classical or Shakespearean - that are present in the comic.

The first important concept that appears on this page is Amarthia. The tragic mistake, the first domino that topples the whole stack, is the specific event that sets tragedy in motion, and we spectators of tragedy can only stare in horror at the situation, knowing that everything that follows will go terribly wrong.

At least as far as its protagonists are concerned, Annabel and Lenore's Amarthia has been said but not seen: the dinner party where Annabel will wear pearls, indicating to Lenore that she is in on the charade. From then on, every step they take will bring them closer to the fate we know: the arrival of both of them in Nevermore. This story ends with them both dead.

And if I had to point out the Amarthia of the comic's topicality, I would dare to say that this is it:

And this:

Annabel refuses to explain to Lenore why the plan has to be the way it is, while Lenore agrees to be part of it (the fact that she disagrees with the whole situation is a plus).

The interesting thing about this is that the roles are reversed: before, Annabel sealed the tragic fate of both of them by accepting Lenore's proposal, while in Nevermore, Lenore sealed the tragic fate of both of them by accepting Annabel's plan.

Another important term that comes up here is hybris. While it is true that hybris represents ego, this does not necessarily mean that the hero is self-centered in a personality sense; hybris is the tragic hero's (misguided, of course) belief that they can turn their terrible situation around. And, well…

That ends badly in tragedies. Very, very badly.

At this point, it is necessary to start pointing out the elements of each type of tragedy, because something interesting is happening: within the ancient walls of the purgatory that is Nevermore, a classical tragedy is taking place, while in the past, Annabel and Lenore were the protagonists of a Shakespearean tragedy.

Classical Tragedy

One thing to understand about classical tragedy is that these are stories of humanity versus divinity. The predestined fate that comes upon mortals at the hands of beings superior to them, even if those beings do not appear directly. The external forces superior to the characters do not intervene directly (at least not in most cases), but they put all the pieces in place for the tragic hero to fall headlong into his terrible fate "by their own hand". Yeah, that shit is so unfair.

In Nevermore, fate is represented by these two bastards: The Deans act as the ominous shadow of divinity that sets the rules of this battle royale. For all intents and purposes, this pair of bastards represents the tragic fate of the characters: only one will survive to have a second life. And there is (theoretically) no way to escape.

This is where we start to get into thorny issues. If I had to point out the classical tragedy that Nevermore most resembles, I think I'd get a smile out of Hadestown fans: Orpheo and Eurydice.

Okay, let's review: Orpheo is a highly talented musician who, after losing his beloved, goes to the underworld to find her. Hades and Persephone give him a chance to get her back if he doesn't turn around to see her until they leave the place, he does so at the last second, she returns to the underworld, and Orpheus spends the rest of his life in misery mourning her.

That's the thing, the story of Orpheo and Euridice is a tragedy for the most depressing reason of all: love. What seems like a generous gift from Hades and Persephone is actually a condemnation, because they ask Orpheus to do the one thing he could never do: stop looking at his beloved. In some versions of the story, he can't even hear her as they walk; will she really be her, or has he been tricked? Will she be frightened on this journey and he will not be there to comfort her? What if she has trouble on the road or an accident and Orpheus has left her behind? Orpheus loves Eurydice so much that he cannot save her under these circumstances because he cannot stop watching over her long enough to get her out of here.

Now let's go to Annabel and Lenore, the same thing is happening here, these two idiots love each other. It's probably the only thing they know for sure in this bullshit game. And for Annabel and Lenore, to love is to protect, it's to be the shield that will be there to defend their beloved in the face of adversity, she's been hurt in a terrible way and they will do anything to stop anyone from hurting her again.

But tragic fate, represented by the Deans, has set things in motion for this to quickly go to hell:

For Lenore to understand Annabel's actions, she would have to tell her that's why she's so afraid, why they shouldn't get attached to anyone, why she thinks it's necessary to pretend they don't remember each other. But Lenore can't be okay with Annabel carrying everything alone, because she sees how it hurts her, because Annabel is clearly hurting. She goes to great lengths to confide in Annabel, but she can't come up with a plausible explanation for all this crap either.

For Annabel, becoming a villain and enduring all this pain is slightly less horrible than dragging Lenore into the Deans' psychotic game. But Lenore just loves her too much to let her do that. Lenore could protect her if Annabel were by her side, so why does she keep leaving? She was hurt the first time, why do it to her a second time?

The feeling of not being heard, the frustration that the other just won't listen to her pleas and won't stop what she's doing to allow her to be cared for, runs through both of them because it's the exact same situation, "Why won't you let me do this for you?"

The answer is that Annabel and Lenore are asking the other to do the one thing she could never stop doing: stop trying to protect her. That's why they fight.

This relationship has become a power game that neither can win because they are both exactly the same. A tug-of-war that will only be resolved when something breaks. Hopefully not irreparably.

And speaking of the P-word, let's talk Shakespeare, people.

Shakespearean Tragedy

The good Bard took classical tragedy and brought it back, but changed enough elements of it that it had to be renamed because some of its fundamentals were rewritten. The most notorious of these is that while Shakespeare does not ignore the presence of higher forces or supernatural entities, the fundamental basis of Shakespearean tragedy is not the conflict between humanity and the Fates/Gods.

It is power.

Those who wield power, those who are corrupted by it, and those who crave it. These tragedies speak of moral corruption, the victims of power, and those who sink under the responsibility that power brings.

This is the reason why Shakespeare's tragic heroes belong to the nobility, come from opulent families, or hold important positions. In this case, we have as protagonists two women who were born in a cradle of gold: Lenore apparently comes from a family of old money, and while we do not know if Annabel also comes from a family of old money, we do know that there is no shortage of coins around here.

But status cannot protect Shakespeare's protagonists from the society in which they live, whose agency is sometimes literally represented by people with power. This puts them in a situation from which they cannot escape and which screws them from the start (in other cases the Shakespearean protagonist is the figure of power and seals his own fate). Here, the odds are stacked against them from the start because they are women and, as if that were not enough, lesbians.

I think it's no surprise to anyone that the Shakespearean tragedy most similar to Nevermore is Romeo and Juliet.

Let's review: Romeo and Juliet are two young people who meet at a party and fall madly in love. Their families hate each other, so they cannot be together. The two secretly marry, but after an argument Romeo kills a man and is banished, despite a plan hatched by a priest friend so they can run away together, things go terribly wrong and they both end up committing suicide.

This follows a similar logic to Orpheus and Eurydice: the tragedy here is that these two are in love. But where classical tragedy says, "They love each other so much they can't save themselves," Romeo and Juliet, like Annabel and Lenore, works with two layers of conflict.

The first is the social and political. These young people's families hate each other, so they can't be together. In the same way, Annabel and Lenore can't be together because they're both women.

This is also a reference to one of the central themes of Romeo and Juliet: the clash between tradition and modernity. I think if you squint hard enough, you can see the relationship between these two as Victorian conservatism and homophobia screwing up their lives in the same way that tradition screws up Romeo and Juliet's.

The other layer of the problem is the one that has to do with love: Romeo and Juliet love each other so much that they cannot live without each other. This is what drives them both to suicide, even when they are given the opportunity to continue their lives separately. They love each other so much that they cannot live without each other. Just as Annabel and Lenore desperately want to be together, this is what starts the engine of tragedy when circumstances prevent them from doing so.

Another thing it takes from Romeo and Juliet is the role of the parents as a representation of the power that oppresses the characters. In Romeo and Juliet, the Montague and Capulet lords pull the strings of their children's lives, and it is their resentment that creates the barrier between the lovers. In the case of Nevermore, Ira and Thaddeus are the personal jailers of their respective daughters: Ira wants to get Annabel into an arranged marriage by hook or by crook, and Thaddeus first gets Lenore a fiancé and then keeps her locked up in the fucking attic.

Finally, a tragedy that can be read as a reference to Nevermore, though more subtly, is Macbeth.

The plot is simple: a trio of witches tell Duke Macbeth that he and his descendants will one day be kings. This leads him to murder his cousin, King Duncan, and everything goes downhill from there, because Duncan's murder didn't even amuse the prince.

Yes, at first glance it doesn't seem to make much sense, but that's because it's referring to a specific moment. Specifically, the most discussed and controversial scene in the play: the dialog where Lady Macbeth and Macbeth discuss killing Duncan.

This scene has kept the Bard's fans arguing for centuries: is she manipulating her husband so that she can be queen, or is she just verbalizing Macbeth's wishes that he be allowed to commit the crime, and saying that she will support him in it? Impossible to know unless someone gets a working Ouija board.

This is the same logic that follows the flashback scene where Lenore talks to Annabel about the plan. The important thing here is that the comic decides that the answer is: it depends on who you ask.

Given Annabel's attitude toward Lenore, we can interpret that she does not think she was manipulated or anything. Lenore is not a devious woman who put things in her head, it was her knight in shining armor who came to save her from a marriage she didn't want. Yes, she may have had her doubts, but she definitely liked her chances, enough to accept them.

On the other hand, what this tells me is that Lenore thinks the opposite: that she convinced Annabel to be part of this hoax that ended with both of them dead. A crazy woman who dragged the only person she cared about into a dangerous game that cost them their lives, she considers herself as guilty as the perpetrating hand of the crime.

Conclusion

I think the first time I decided to do a review under this particular lens was when I started to notice where Annabel and Lenore's arcs seemed to be going.

On the one hand, given how things are going, it seems that Lenore has to start taking off the blindfold to realize that things aren't as simple as she thinks, and stop letting others make the hard decisions for her because it hurts everyone.

On Annabel's side, you have a character arc that seems to be aimed at being honest with other people, not letting her fears stop her from making risky decisions, and not dealing with all the bullshit herself.

If what I just said leaves a bad taste in your mouth, that's normal. Because it's fucking unfair.

That Lenore should be the one to stand firm - not out of guilt, but out of responsibility - for her actions feels like shit after everything the poor girl has been through. The same thing happens on Annabel's side, that she has to give in to a situation where it makes so much sense for her to shut down, where it makes sense, even without her background, for her to behave that way.

But that sense of injustice is one of the foundations of tragedies. The feeling that, in her situation, it is practically impossible to think that anything different could be done is the basis of catharsis: the pity felt for the character, the fear generated by identifying with their terrible situation.

The expiation of these emotions, which are produced in the spectator by the fall of the tragic hero.

Now, it is interesting to ask how the fall of Annabel and Lenore will be. The simple answer from a tragic point of view is death, a thing we know has already happened once, why not a second time? After all, that's what awaits tragic heroes. Unless you're Medea.

It's impossible to know how the comic will develop, but it seems to me that this is as far as the tragedy goes. For the next part, I want to talk about gothic novels, female vampires, the female writers of the period, and the last gothic. Believe me, buddies, there is no more obsessive romantic bond than that between a Poe protagonist and their dead bride.

[qqueenofhades]

Do you have any idea why people are so fixated on Biden’s age but not Trumps? I know he’s 81, but Trump isn’t exactly far behind at 77: in fact he’s the second oldest. This keeps stumping me: it’s not a big gap in age

There are a few reasons for this, yes. As you might imagine, all of them are very stupid.

First and most critically is the way Trump's violent extremism has been completely neutered, mainlined, and normalized by the mainstream media. That's why we still have said media largely treating this as a normal presidential election, instead of that of a successful incumbent against literally the most deranged, unfit, treasonous, criminally and civilly liable, already-led-an-attempted-coup, deep-in-hock-to-Russia, adjudicated rapist, 91-felony-counts-indicted career cheater, grifter, and failed businessman who nonetheless appeals to the still-very-powerful isolationist, racist, white supremacist, and Christian nationalist elements in this country. Crucially, he also appeals to the billionaire class that owns the media and who will benefit from Trumpian tax, economic, and labor policies (especially now that Biden used the SOTU to once more call for a minimum 25% corporate/billionaire tax rate). The media also openly wants Trump back in office, as all the shitass insane things he did (and will do) are good for ratings, and allows them to act like the Principled Truth Tellers, instead of shilling so hard for a greasy orange fascist that we may well lose our 250+ year old democratic republic if he, God forbid, is elected again. Profit is more, well, profitable than truthful reporting, so the media has been completely disincentivized to cover this in any accurate way. We presume they will all wake up with shocked Pikachu faces when Trump packs them off to concentration camps with everyone else he hates, as he has openly promised to do.

Because we're also starting from an underlying premise that everything is the Democrats' fault, this means the party should be blamed for running said successful incumbent for reelection, even if he has low poll numbers which have in fact largely been produced by the media's relentlessly stupid and dishonest coverage. I was reading an article in the AP today about how 15 major student/youth groups have endorsed Biden and plan to work for his reelection; even so, the author could.not.stop going on and on about how Zomgz Old Biden was and how supposedly most Americans thought he was mentally unfit for the job (which is a straight-up lie produced by the endless "Zomgz Biden Old!!!!" handwringing have been subjected to without end. Weird how that works). That is also why we have all those idiotic "Biden should step down!!!" opinion pieces by Very Smart Pundits, notwithstanding the fact that a) it would be completely insane, b) it would be completely insane, and c) somehow nobody seems to think that hey, maybe the Republicans shouldn't nominate an openly seditionist generally god-awful fascist shitweasel who has already been the worst thing to happen to American politics in the twenty-first century (I'd say also the twentieth century, but unfortunately that was when we had Reagan).

In other words, Trump is just taken as a given, while the media spends all its time attacking Biden, calling on Biden to step down, amplifying "concerns" about Biden's age, producing idiotic narratives about Biden, distorting or ignoring the things Biden has done, and then writing concern-troll navel-gazing pieces earnestly wondering why people don't like Biden. (Apparently people's opinion of Biden drastically improves when they learn what he's actually accomplished, but the relentless parade of lies somehow makes it difficult for them to learn what those actually are. Again, weird.) Likewise the endless coverage we get of Biden's smallest slips or stumbles, while the media resolutely ignores Trump's full-on recent descent into absolute raving dementia. Hello, double standards!

This is also fueled by a heaping helping of racism and misogyny, because if God forbid Biden does die in office, what happens? The vice president takes over! We have a clear and constitutionally established precedent for this that has happened many times before! Except, oh no scary!!!, Biden's vice president is a brown woman, and that means SHE WOULD BE IN CHARGE!!!! TERRIFYING!!! So all the scaremongering around Biden's age, aside from being generally dishonest and stupid, has as its implicit message that sure, maybe you're fine voting for an old white man, but are you really comfortable doing that if it means a brown woman might also have the chance to be president?? I DON'T THINK YOU SHOULD BE!!!!!

Anyway, yes. It's a complete straw man argument, it's fueled by bad faith and stupidity, and as with most things in the current American media environment, it's geared toward helping Trump win. Because you know. Something something BUT HER EEEEEEEEEEEEMAILS BUT BIDEN WAS OOOOOOOOOOOOLD.

[gotskamstuff]

MY THOUGHTS (THAT NO ONE ASKED FOR AND A BIT TOO LONG) ON THE WHOLE “RUDY IS LEAVING THE SHOW/JJ IS DYING” SPECULATIONS

Sometimes I wish I was one of those people who enjoys tv shows and still is very passionate about it but without entering the world of the fandom ‘cause I would be a liar if I didn’t admit that all the things I’ve come to know about the cast in past couple of years have ruined my experience with OBX a little.

Even this whole “JJ is gonna die” speculation, let’s be real it’s not the first time we have discussed this in the fandom and we basically ask ourselves this question every season and yet now it feels different.

I don’t believe speculations coming from unknown sources and I don’t believe in rumors as a solid proof… HOWEVER again I’d be lying if I said that finding out that Josh Pate (one of the main producers of the show) has abruptly unfollowed Rudy and there’s seemingly something that happened between the two, didn’t stir up the fear in me that yeah maybe he could be leaving the show. Because let’s be real, the actors having drama is one thing, but one of the producers cutting ties with you IS A WHOLE DIFFERENT STORY.

This is why it feels different this time.

I remember genuinely fearing JJ was gonna die in S2 when in the trailer they showed his head wound and I was incredibly scared about it, but it was a “devastating” fear still with a tingle of excitement about the storyline involving a possible Pogue death and with curiosity on how the story could possibly move forward…but now? Now it feels completely disappointing knowing that IF JJ dies it will be simply because he wanted to leave and honestly it would completely ruin the show for me ‘cause to put it quite frankly I would lose my trust in the story writing.

I am in no way a snowflake when it comes to characters dying in shows, sometimes I even love it ‘cause as devastating as it can be it can also be an amazing shock factor for the show but it needs to be done with purpose both for the story and for the character.

JJ dying for me would ruin the entire show and it’s not just because “omg Jiara” “omg JJ is my favorite character” “omg the show wouldn’t be the same” but because realistically it would ruin the entire arc of his character.

Regardless of who your favorite character is based on personal preferences, objectively speaking JJ is the best written character of the show and one of the characters who was given the most depth and one of the most interesting storylines, there has been a great amount of good writing when it comes to JJ’s character development and a character like him ending with death would be like throwing all that work out of the window.

I think it’s a pretty common thought amongst the fandom that JJ’s arc to end in a right way for his character would be to literally having him live his future that he so badly believed he could never have. For the whole show JJ has projected hos lack of a future and his impossibility to ever have anything good for himself, his entire story and growth was about him overcoming that and accepting he can prove everyone including himself wrong, to then end his character like “syke you actually do not get a future and you never get to live it” would completely destroy the entire arc of his character and nothing about his journey from S1 to S3 would have any meaning whatsoever looking back at it.

And I want to make it clear that IF (once again it’s still all speculations) JJ dies I still would not put ALL the blame on Rudy for leaving ‘cause actors leave shows ALL THE TIME and there’s an endless number of things you could write to take a character out of the picture especially for JJ who always had an element of unpredictability to him.

If Rudy was like “hey listen, I’m done with the show” the producers could have 100% put their foot down and still negotiate something reasonable for both parties to leave the door open on his character like “ok your choice free to go, but we are not killing the character…would you come back for the final 2 episodes of the entire show?”

And JJ could have tooooons of possible scenarios for him to leave: following his dad, breaking up with Kiara and leaving Kildare…the INSTANT they mentioned the surf trip in the show they had the perfect opportunity to use it as an excuse to make both JJ and Kiara or one of the two leave at any point to be lost somewhere in the world offscreen. So no it wouldn’t be all Rudy’s fault ‘cause there’s a lot of ways to mostly get rid of a character without killing him and closing the door for good.

This is probably gonna sound bad but I’d rather see the show end all together with S4 than seeing it getting dragged out for longer and longer meanwhile the main cast slowly leaves one by one and especially if the writing gets more and more superficial for convenience.

I HONESTLY HOPE THAT AFTER S4 ENDS WE’LL LOOK BACK AT THIS TIME WHEN WE THOUGHT RUDY WAS LEAVING THE SHOW AND LAUGH…but I don’t even know what to believe anymore. I didn’t believe it until I saw the producers cutting ties with him which realistically sounds like a “good life and goodbye”.

WISH WE COULD TURN BACK TIME TO S1.

[messiahzzz]

Hello! I love your meta-analysis of BG3 and share many of the same opinions concerning our boy, Gale. I have an interesting question for you concerning the orbs "volatility" in relation to intimacy (both physical and non-physical). I used to believe it was cannon that Gale couldn't engage in physical intimacy because the Orb may detonate, but when I played as Gale I was able to sleep with Astarion. This is in contrast to when I played as Karlach and couldn't touch anyone.

So, all of this is to ask whether Gale's dialogue at the tiefling party was him protecting himself emotionally or if he truly thought that any excitement would trigger the Orb (ironic given they are fighting for their lives daily)? Additionally is this why the Weave scene only features an imagined kiss rather than a physical one?

thank you so much for the questions!! i’m very glad you enjoy reading my posts 💕

gale: with my condition being as volatile as it is, i fear any undue, er, excitement, may tip it over the edge. so to speak.

i do believe that gale was being honest in regards to avoiding physical/emotional excitement concerning the orb. his first and foremost priority is to make sure to avoid as many potential triggers as possible, being fully aware of the catastrophe that will occur if he doesn’t keep an eye on his condition at all times. fighting is inevitable given the situation the group found themselves in. on top of that, every single day for the past year alone has quite literally been a life or death situation for him, wondering how much longer he can hold on until the orb inevitably takes over. i also think that he has experienced his fair share of horrors and tough fights in his past, considering his status as an archmage, as well as him being mystra’s chosen. even with his now diminished powers & the tadpole in his head he still remains in his element. magic is his life, it comes as easy to him as breathing.

gale: i'm what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the weave, but compose it, much like a musician or a poet.

more importantly, the devnotes also proof that the orb is indeed the reason for his deflection during the tiefling party:

gale: i see. then perhaps we see each other in the same light after all. a resplendent one, flush with warmth and anticipation, but one which i must shy away from, for now. node context: still flustered, but pleased to learn you like him romantically. then getting to the point - he can't do anything until the orb is dealt with.

if tav directly tells him to cease the perceived flirting, he will reveal that he considered their relationship to be a "budding romance" at this stage.

player: if this is an attempt at flirting, you should stop. i'm not interested. gale: right. understood. you shall hear no more on the subject from me. gale: consider this budding romance thoroughly nipped. though i hope our friendship need not come to such an abrupt end.

yet at the same time, he is also completely flustered if tav is the one who initiates the flirting:

player: do you like having your belly rubbed? gale: the pleasures i experienced in mystra's embrace go far beyond the pleasures of having one's tummy tickled. i remember once, she took the smallest piece of the weave and made it into- gale: wait. are you saying... nodecontext: taking the question seriously, missing the flirtatious side of it. nodecontext: realizing that the player was flirting, getting flustered

regardless of which flirt option tav chooses to pick, the outcome remains the same:

gale: you know what, i think i've clearly had far too much wine. and you've had nowhere near enough. i think this is a conversation best held back on - for now. nodecontext: flustered, hesitating to explicitly say what he thinks you were offering, then backtracking altogether

while battle naturally is always accompanied by the unpredictable, (as well as the dread of facing a yet unknown enemy) i don’t think he experiences quite the same amount of trepidation as where matters of the heart are concerned. or perhaps it would be more accurate to say it’s an altogether different kind.

the budding relationship with tav is once again unfamiliar territory for him after all those years he went without mortal intimacy, years that have been spent with mystra instead. it’s understandable that he exercises caution at all times, knowing what’s at stake if he lets go for but merely a moment. i also believe gale to be a character who generally goes “all out” once he chooses to be intimate with someone. we know that he doesn’t do casual trysts, friends-with-benefits arrangements, or anything of the sort. instead he wants to build a deep connection first. gale is a romantic through and through, he only feels comfortable being intimate once it has been explicitly established that the emotions he feels for tav are indeed wholly reciprocated. gale puts his whole heart into everything he does, he would’ve felt that it was a disservice to tav if he was only able to give them (according to him) even less than the remaining fragments of a broken man he has to offer — once he decides to give himself, he gives himself fully.

another added factor, however, is that the tiefling party simply wasn’t the right time for him yet, even if he already felt some attraction to them. part of him perhaps would’ve liked to go a bit further, be more direct about his growing fondness for them. spending a night together, just enjoying each other's company, talking until the sun rises, perhaps even sharing their first kiss if he felt that the timing was right — but i don’t think he would’ve considered this to be the appropriate stage in their relationship to sleep with tav either way. orb or no.

gale also tells us this much during the Last Night Alive scene, as well as during the conversation after you just met tara. in an ideal situation he would’ve taken his time, courted tav properly, said it all better.

gale: if things were different, if we were home, i'd have taken the time to do things properly. to say it all better. but time is short.

gale: i always imagined what it would be like when you finally got to meet her. this wasn't quite what i had pictured. gale: i thought we'd be in waterdeep. you, curled up before a crackling hearth while i prepared us a ridiculously extravagant meal, served with a batch of my homemade hundur sauce.

time is short.

i always headcanoned gale to be on the demi spectrum. that he needs to build a close bond before sexual intimacy is something that even remotely occurs to him. tav is an anomaly in this regard — he knows he deeply cares for them, emotions that developed even in the short, few months they've known each other, and that he doesn’t have the luxury of time to let their relationship unfold in all the many ways he dreamed of. all he knows is that he loves tav, wholly and truly. and that, by the gods, he has to make the most out of the few extra heartbeats he’s been given. even if his death is inevitable, he will at least be able to show them the depths of his affection. leave them with shared memories of pure tenderness, a knowledge of a love so profound that it might perhaps even prevail way beyond his passing.

player: what about all we shared together? are you just going to give up? gale: this isn't giving up it's securing victory, at a price i am willing to pay. and everything we shared can live on - with you.

i wouldn’t necessarily say that gale was trying to “protect himself emotionally” during the tiefling party, but rather acted accordingly to the horrifying circumstances the tadpole gang (and especially he himself) find themselves in. i don’t think gale ever really considers a romanced!tav as someone he needs to be guarded around. evident in the way he immediately throws all doors open without any sign of hesitation once he has their assurance that their love is indeed mutual. gale pours his heart out to them regardless, not knowing whether his feelings are truly returned. he is not a character who shies away from being vulnerable by any means. he is an open book, that tav is free to peruse in as they see fit. a slither of trust is all he needs.

during the weave scene the connection abruptly fades once tav either imagines passionately kissing him or holding his hand during a romantic walk. a scene that again shows that he is genuinely stunned by what he’s being shown. after all, it doesn't happen often that gale of waterdeep is at a loss for words.

gale: i... i didn't think... narrator: *you perceive quick-fire gusts of embarrassment, trepidation, and finally... elation.* gale: sorry, i wasn't expecting... but it is a pleasant image to be sure! gale: most pleasant, in fact. most welcome. nodecontext: warm, with real affection

i do believe the weave scene in particular to be a turning point for him. sort of an epiphany. the first moment in which he realizes that he actually might like the idea of eventually being with tav as perhaps more than a friend. that he is filled with fondness whenever they’re near and that he is excited to see where their joined travels lead them next.

player: when i said we could be more than friends, you answered 'perhaps'. what does that really mean? gale: if i recall correctly, the waterdhavian dictionary of the common tongue of faerun defines it as an adverb that conveys the meaning of 'it may be that', or 'possibly'. gale: you see, i'm not a big believer in fate, but i do believe in serendipity. gale: life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. gale: you're one such event that, one day soon perhaps, i'd like to embrace.

given my personal hc of gale being demisexual, i genuinely don’t believe that he entertained the thought before that. he was way too preoccupied with other more pressing concerns. his overall condition, the tadpole, mourning the loss of his powers, still dealing with a lingering sense of loneliness and melancholy. a yearning for better times, as well as disillusionment of being cast out and left behind, even if he has already worked through his romantic feelings for mystra and their unilaterally ended relationship by then.

gale: i'm hardly pining. it's been a year or more since mystra cast me aside.

tav’s advances genuinely catch him off guard, which is, according to my interpretation, also the reason why their shared connection abruptly faded. a general loss of focus. gale immediately bidding tav goodnight to reflect on the situation and sort through his thoughts again shows that this wasn’t how he expected this moment of teaching to unfold. it seems rather uncharacteristic of him to initiate a kiss in this specific scenario. tav was testing the waters, whether it happened intentionally or not, and gale found himself pleasantly surprised by the turn of events.

i also believe that we generally shouldn’t use origin playthroughs as a cross-reference for the actual canon. larian approached each story with more or less detail and there are already so many inconsistencies present that have been pointed out by other players. instead we should see origin pts as an oc kind of scenario — larian handing us the reigns of each origin character, a way for us to have fun and figure out all the atrocities we could possibly come up with. sort of like playing with our own set of barbies. (“go nuts, show nuts” as tunglr staff put it back in the day) for example, playing as w*ll doesn’t lock you out of raiding the grove and spending a steamy night with m*nth*ra right after either. which is something that contradicts everything he stands for/something he wouldn't naturally do. even if you try to play an origin character as close to their canon portrayal as possible, you will still encounter several contradictions and discrepancies during the duration of your game. larian sadly also has a chronic pattern of overlooking gale in terms of content, fixes, and overall responsiveness. so it’s easy to conclude that his origin story simply hasn’t been fleshed out to the same extent & treated with the same amount of care and consideration that certain other characters received. (which is awfully ironic considering he’s been proven to be the most popular origin character, but i digress)

basically, this has been my very long-winded way of saying: the reason why gale refuses to be intimate with tav pre-orb stabilization is indeed because he is afraid of the orb accidentally detonating during a moment of carelessness and/or indulgence, as well as because of gale’s own preferences when sex & romance are concerned.

[lilypadlys]

Ghoul DnD Class Headcanons

Cirrus: Mage. Specializes in elemental magic and specifically storm/wind based.

Cumulus: Bard. Inspires the party, gets them free lodging in taverns, and is the party’s backup healer.

Sunshine: Warlock. Patron is the devil from the bible. Actually takes the story and her character pretty seriously because she’s invested.

Aurora: Cleric. Just because she’s the party’s healer doesn’t mean that she isn’t the reason at least half the time why the party needs healing.

Dewdrop: Barbarian. The other fifty percent of the reason the party often needs healing.

Rain: Forever DM. Has really intricate plans for each session that of course the party doesn’t follow. Let Phantom DM once. Never again.

Mountain: Druid. Elk/ram wildshape. Also one of the few to take the roleplay seriously. His character is the most intimidating out of the bunch but is actually an animal loving sweetheart.

Aether: Paladin. Literally the only upstanding member of the party. Tries (fails) to keep everyone in check.

Swiss: Bard. Favorite phrase is “I wanna seduce the dragon”. After what happened the first time it’s concerning that he continues to roll to seduce NPCs.

Phantom: Rogue. Younger brother of the paladin who’s only goals in life are shinies and driving the paladin insane. The one time he DMed he forgot to mention going in that his oneshot was horror themed. It was so amazingly realistic and terrifying that it gave Mountain, Swiss, and Aurora nightmares and everyone else is scared to let him DM again.