#i might consider them my moots

[reivrze]

谷 : mutuals !!

disclaimer - !! -> i'm so sorry if I forgot anyone ! you can dm me or send an ask if you want to officially be moots :) this list is mostly people who i've interacted with quite a bit with since the beginning !! also these are in no particular order ^^

✿. @chacottone - sana !! ( my main girlie ♡ )

✿. @maiverie - mai bb !! ( see what i did there 👀 )

✿. @enaus - ely !!

✿. @dazed-hee - tiff !!

✿. @j0swhiterice

✿. @aernx - aerin !!

✿. @kazmura - lana !!

✿. @ikeuz - selena !!

✿. @eulris - natalia !!

✿. @talesofyuan - yuan !!

✿. @seolboba - mako !!

✿. @yeomha - raine !!

✿. @wheeboo - rania !!

✿. @boydepartment - jayjay !!

✿. @luvistqrzzz - rim !!

✿. @bobariki - rue !!

✿. @simplhee - rene !!

✿. @moonmoongi - fahma !!

✿. @wvnkoi - seol !!

✿. @flwrshee - ri !!

✿. @cybrki - rina !!

✿. @hee-poster - jan !!

✿. @ctrlcntr - tia !!

✿. @ashxxgyu - ash !!

✿. @apple-brees - bree !!

✿. @nicholasluvbot - ira !!

✿. @tnyhees - chae !!

✿. @baeksofty - mari !!

✿. @heezpng - rin !!

✿. @en-une - winnie & balle !!

✿. @yeosljin - lyna !!

✿. @riikiblr - bee !!

✿. @aefolrin - flo !!

✿. @nyanggk - mirai !!

✿. @heeflrs - rora !!

✿. @hanniluvi - soph !!

✿. @haknom - kayla !!

✿. @heesuncore - honey !!

✿. @malarign - joo !!

✿. @yswon - lily !!

[babieken]

do u ever go down a rabbit hole trying to figure out who this blog u interacted with five years ago is? bc i just did lsijdflsdjf

[light-as-a-fvcking-leaf]

formerly light-as-a-fucking-leaf

tw: 3d shit (dni if not edblr, block dont report, pro for me not for thee, pro-recovery, etc)

MY BACKUP IS @lightasafuckingleaf SOMEONE HAS SENT ME AN ASK SAYING THEYVE REPORTED ME SO I MIGHT BE NUKED SOON PLEASE FOLLOW!

UPDATE: THEYVE REPORTED MY BACKUP TOO SO FOLLOW MY TAG PLSS #lightasafuckingleaf

hello! i used to be @light-as-a-fucking-leaf, but got t3rmed so uhh i live here now! pls reblog to help me find my moots again, i was the one that posted “an0rex1c august has been shit, sk1nny september will be better” post that blew up!

i had nearly 400 lovely followers and over 10 friends on that blog and unfortunately i dont remember all of my closest moots’ users, i’d really appreciate any reblogs to help me find them (and vice versa) again!!

ill be tagging my future posts occasionally with #lightasafuckingleaf in case i get t-worded again so consider following that tag!!

intro post will be up in a day or two!!

(p.s. to that asshole who reported me you’re not doing anything I WILL JUST COME BACK and you’re literally just depriving me of my friends.)

[zznsthetic]

INTO YOU

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Non-idol AU — Hook-up!Kai × AFAB!Hook-up!Reader

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Appetizer — Kai is too much into you, sexually and soulfully. Even after thrice the times he fucked you, he doesn't wanna end this. It's like he wants to keep you, but how? He wants you more and more the times he's with you, will he ask you out?

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Disclaimer — This is PURE FICTION : Nothing in this work aligns with the idols' character, moral and their real life. The characters are all legal adults ( 18+ ) and everything happening around & to them is entirely consensual. Readers are humbly advised to read the Contains and Disclaimer before they read.

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Word Count — 3k+

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Contains — barely-any-plot SMUT : mdni! Unprotected sex ( of course but don't! ), missionary, make outs, nipple play, dirty talk ( idk! My first time writing it!! ), begging fetish, Kai's rough, Soft-Dominant!Kai, Submissive!Reader, breeding fetish, Kai is whiny when he cums, and idk. Lemme know if I should add more.

*꒰ 뭐 ꒱ Noulli's note — this shitty drabble was backed up by my special moot @soobinsonly1bf , thanks my dear twin, without you this might have been the crappiest piece ever! I love you so much already😭 and tagging @jeongin-lvr and @hyhkai ( cause you both rooted for it, tysm lovelies ). I also half-assed in the last cause I have no idea to end a smut. And Idk what I wrote, went along with my fingers so bear with it (T^T).

His lips tickle yours like a feather brushing at it, his hand only pull you into his warmth, while the other tucked your hair behind your ears. His perfect narrow eyes are slightly open, only to get a slight look at you tembling at the slight collision of your lips with his, sitting beside, but rubbing your thighs together. Your body quivers everywhere, and the thing is, he hasn't done anything yet, and you're this desperate for him. Just as perfectly as he wants.

"Want a minute?" His question is absolutely ridiculous considering how his hands take up the job to elicit goosebumps on your body, that touch jolting you up from every where it traverses, having you gulp your saliva down your throat. Your heartbeat even echoes, syncing with his, in that pin-drop quiet room. His kisses on your lips are continuos, perfectly embracing them to never let you go, he whiffs you with his panting breath, to let you know, he is wholly into this, into you.

Your eyes meet his with the look he has never seen before. the doe's they curve into, pleading and drowning themselves into his orbs; your pupils holding back a fiery lust that darkens your gaze and yet glistens with something mysterious, actually something sweet when he kisses you, or at the slightest touch he delivers on your body. His hands slip in your red lacy crop top as he squeezes your underbust and groans at the plush. Women were his least interesting cup of tea, until he met you and now he wishes to turn over your every page and learn you.

This has gone too far. Both of you know it.

You however didn't even take him in your pussy, yet have him drip pathetically, aching for you. fuck should have sat in my lap, his mind groans to him. He leans in, his damn lips again working down your earlobe; at every trail of his kisses, your skin burns and your heartbeat accelerates, actually throbbing your boobs in his hold.

That blush you've been having on your cheeks the whole time has never deserted, if anything, it reddens even more on your face, at every kiss he plants every now and then. He looks back into your eyes for an answer. "No," you breathe, answering his ridiculous question. "But I want more..." a smile immediately makes its way to his lips and his cold eyes warm within themselves.

His smile... a rare thing to actually witness, for a cold, aloof Huening Kai who doesn't sleep twice with a woman, but he ridiculously can not stop sleeping with you, and of course, smiling like an idiot. He loves the way your eyes soften at his smile, and he does smile so, often for it. Such a strange feeling, he can't get rid of you, you don't seem to let go of him, in reality, he can't seem to let you go.

Your addictive brush on his lips never ceases to haunt him at the times he wishes to forget about you, or your warm hands that should have always been securing him ( scraping his back with yo nails lol ) never seem to warm the cold emptiness he feels when he goes to his bed at night, without you. The bed which moved when he drilled into you, never felt so still and so wrong, which is exactly why he has brought you here again, feeling that same warmth which is just as capturing as last time. He is inable to stop, he needs to feel you again, which he is clearly aware of, the heat for you, burning inside him and aching his insides for you.

Nothing ever feels enough, when it comes to you.

The warmth in his touch, the fire in his kisses, the writhing heat he has for you is the exact thing which confuses you for his freezing stare and his cold attitude, reserved as fuck when you had the first encounter with him, correction - a mere exchange of consents before the both of your were colliding into each other. The seeming magnetic pull he had, something was unleashed in you when he first entered the bar. You went to him, asked him if he was in for drinks and hook up. Drinks were all to hell when you both left to fuck, absolutely in a rut for eachother where ending the night felt wrong and you had to leave him.

He was left alone, or so he felt he did, cause it didn't feel right to part, part from you.

What pulled him into you? He wonders himself, you had that perfect black dress, which seemed to be glued to your body, that short little dress didn't disgust him and he felt no repulse like the other times he pushed away the women throwing themselves at him Instead he was teased to explore what was under, which now is no mystery and ravishing it, an addiction. Fucking you once didn't feel right to end, he was left to want more. Fucking you twice was not enough. I guess I want more of her, he realized. Now thrice, still doesn't feel enough either. It's like, he wants you more and more the times he feels you.

His hand refuses to leave your tits while his lips play with the skin on your neck, tickling at soft spots repeatedly as he does not relent until a crimson mark erupts, only then does his lips descend to your cleavage as he examines the valley, he parts from your chest, earning a heave which rises it, inviting him again.

He tilts his head up at you, your jaw glistens from sweat and your voice box bobs, and then, he discovers how you are lost in this foreplay.

"Can I...?" The third night he is fucking you over now, yet his way of asking consents never seem to fail in amazing you everytime. His eyes meets yours with the sparkling hunger which never seemed to fade away from his orbs. His following rasp holds an odd, safe, yet that 'dampening-your-pussy' effect, where it takes no seconds for a 'yes please..' to leave your mouth and he is ripping that top off in the blink of an eye, laying you down.

Your hands find his hair and get lost in it when he kisses your aereola, sucking and leaving kitty licks, toying with your nipples using his tongue, the displayed plush of your tits mercilessly having him leak out the pre-cum.

Though he is at your tits, listening to your racing heartbeat, feeling all of it with his mouth latched onto your boobs, his heart too races as if it knows no relent in pounding so hard for you. So badly does he want to just shove his cock in and fuck your senses out until his hunger died for you, he aches for this little fluttery feeling, rushing through all of him to a point he mindlessly acts so gentle and so hypnotized, he can't stop.

His hands have a mind of their own, gently imprinting the feeling of yours. His ears always noting your little sounds and his eyes always store your various sights of writhing under him, in him, always trying to elicit them again, so he gets a replay of it. The drumming of his heartbeat echoes in his own ears, the exciting feeling actually so good, he is damn sure, he is feeling it for the first time. Just what are you doing to me, sweet thing?

He is beyond into you, where his mind no longer holds any control over him, he wishes to absorb you, all to himself.

The moment he feels enough, he strips you off of your skirt, revealing your pink panties, where he spreads your legs with his hands and witness the glistening wet patch on it. "Fuck, you're so desperate aren't you? It's a fucking flood I suppose..." His fingers start toying with the wet cloth, pressing his fingers there and he strips you of it and reveals you're pooling heat, groaning and chuckling at it. "And It fucking is.. haah"

There. His runny mouth. Curses sound so sweet by his mouth and his degrading moans, melo-fucking-dious. "Says you, with that wet bump of your rock hard cock. Adorable, Huening."

Fuck, she's so hot. His rock hard cock, forming that wet glistening patch on the bump, even on his dark pants is so visible, your cunt flutters imagining how good he'd stretch you out at the sight. The bump looking so massive, his cock twitching inside you is the best one of the best, from the two longs nights you've been up with him, you know damn well, he's the fucking best you've ever had.

"Fuck love," he curses, his smirk revealing a little of his gritting teeth.

"You run that mouth and I'll fuck it too." He looks down at you, punctuating his sentences with his condescending and solemn look, annoyingly decorated with a tight smile lasting for no seconds, but you know, you shoot him a cocky look for it will soon become whines and praises when he feels you. Amusingly, his struggle to look at you when his eyes drift to your pussy is not unnoticed by you, a proud giggle leaving your mouth that does not catch his attention, his adam's apple bobs at the sight, a pink tint smears across his cheeks and cock jerks wildly at it, crazy how he thinks with his dick and dick only, when you're the one taking it in.

"B-But now just take my cock, as I say, will you?"

Another giggle leaves your mouth, as you nod along, permitting him. However, it is all giggles until it turns into a surprised gasp, clearly interupted, with his cock shoving pushing inside with no prepping. He once realized when he sheathed himself in for the first time that night, you were and are so tight he might snap, with the way you're strangling his cock exactly like how you did then, and choking on your laugh, clearing whimpering later with that cockiness abandoning your face.

Fuck! he's caught you off guard, entertaining himself with your surprised moans, oh damn, to fix that attitude of yours using his cock, he fucking enjoyed it. It's his turn to laugh now, a deep one so melodious to your ears, as he looks at with you with a cocky look, smugly amped up with a smile which resembles yours from before. "Laugh now, baby?" He raises his eyebrows, trying his best to hide the way he is losing his mind. "Can't laugh when filled up with cock?" His smile never fades, but his little whimpers do echo when he pulls out, as a slowly as he can, the emptiness you feel when his cock slides out, your walls flutter, trying to invite his cock again.

Holding his cock as he finally pulls out, he rubs the tip on your area, sliding it up and down as he feels your little shivers when his cock prods at your hole, he pushes in, only so his tip is held by your hole. "What's that, baby? You wan' it?" He tsks at the way your hole clenches at nothing, a wild grin creases eventually on his smiling lips at your squeezes, he's absolutely enjoying the way you're so desperate for him and are nodding at his words as dumbly as you could, he is damn satisfied. "Pussy's begging me so perfectly, but I don't know, think you deserve it?"

You nod at him as desperately as you could. His eyes darken and form crescents, his dick taps at your clit and attempts to push in, only to tease you and watch you think he finally puts it in but he doesn't, disappointment rippling on your face when you realize he did not push it in. Your moans die when he parts his cock away from your cunny. "Words baby, words. Guess your pussy doesn't-" he is so cruel to do that, when youre absolutely dying in anticipation, you can't hold it in.

"I do! Please fuck me, wan' your cock, and make me cum, Kai, pleeaaasee."

"Fuck! guess you do, when you beg so good." He groans and fills you in, his cock nesting in your cunt ever so perfectly, your whimpers at the stretch synchronize with his groans and he begins his movements. His movements always begin with short deep thrusts and then, do they begin fucking you into his mattress, you know it's when you begin to cry and whine like the slut you are for him.

"When I'm in your pussy b-baby," Kai grunts, angling his cock to your sweet spot which he knows where it is like the back of his palm. You are aware, he is talking, talking to you, but does he not know? He is not beside you, up for a chat, he is fucking into you, where anytime your mouth parts to speak, it only knows to moan and scream, or to be shut by his prodding tongue. And the words are hazy, with that tinnitus echoing due to the immense good feeling- just what is he saying?!

You wish to understand, make out what he says but little do you know, the ability to think bid goodbyes to you, when his cock pushed in you, but you don't do any of it. Kai has felt it, you no longer listen to him and it doesn't take him long to lean in on you, and flick your chin to look at him, as he thrusts even then. "When I'm in you, you only moan my name get it, slut?"

His little words strike straight at your 'getting-ruined' pussy, squeezing him even more as every thrust now feels intense; his all dominant facade wearing out. You feel if you're a dumb doll, when he fucks and tells you things, you obey him as you nod at every single thing he says, with one and only goal, to cum, cum on his dick. And oh, the way your mouth keeps chanting his name like a mantra after he orders, Kai definitely loved it. His name rolling off of your tongue, almost in a crying manner, sometimes even stuttering when he fucks. His name called in n different ways when you moan it, all of the forms echoing in his ears are a melody which always guide him to his orgasm.

"Kai-! I'm so close- s'close-!" such a slut are you, to say you're close and cream his cock in a split second after. It's too much, to contract around his moving cock and your orgasm rippling all parts in you, more reactive do you become, grabbing the most of the blankets on his beds as you could, curling your toes and arching your back the hardest you could, you cum. And yet, his pace doesn't stop.

You, in a way, lubricated your own entrance, getting Kai to thrust in faster than he already was, gaining him a perfect rhythm, his cock rushes him everywhere in body to use you to the fullest he could; his grip on your thighs becomes bruising. Gripping sheets, digging nails in its cloth, curling toes and hooking your legs around his waist, tears cascading down and your moans almost sounding like screams, the overstimulation is swarming your body and absolutely wrecking your senses.

Praises overflow out his mouth when he witnesses this heavenly sight, and in no way his dick stops twitching, fuck it. He is getting off of your orgasmed frame getting overstimulated, and he is gonna snap at any moment, he feels it. "I'm c-cumming-! Cumming! hnnnngggg-!" Those slutty whines he be letting out when he is close but doesn't stop, depriving you of his eyes rolling back into cranium and pulling you onto him using his big, strong hands, he finally cums.

To release a handful of load in you, just hooked onto your pussy bracing his cock ever so warmly to squeeze out the last droplets of his semen, the feeling is out of the world to him, his panting mouth, dazed eyes and his tongue out like a puppy, oh fuck, he loved dumping his load into you.

"Fuck you, Huening Kai!" You wail, you were so close to cumming, he replaced that with his warm seed instead, again leaving you want for more.

"I was so close!"

"Aw, is that it baby?" He finally comes back into the world, looking you at release yourself from his hold and walk away, his cum dripping out as you stand naked, pearly liquid gliding down your thighs glowing in the dim yellow light of the lamp, your ass perfectly painted with his hand prints. "What's wrong, what do you want?"

Just why would you like walk like that princess? Haah, I wanna do it again.

"Well, my clothes." You glance at the red top laying on the floor as you make your way to get it. You turn back to look for other discarded garments, only to find Kai pulling you into his embrace, squirming in his hold. "Kai! What are you doing?"

"So you aren't staying?"

No, cause this won't last. How the fuck do I say it?

You wish to end this, this might be your last night with him. You didn't wish to get attached which aren't reciprocated even a bit. The way you crave him more than physically, isn't just a hook-up anymore. "Uhm, why?"

Kai cages you in his hold. "So I fuck you all day, all night to make you stay? Tell me?"

He holds you against your will but his question melts you in him. Just what does he mean by 'fuck you all day, all night to make you stay?' You are at loss to retort; the question so weird. Still, that does flutter your heart, an unknown tingly feeling kissing your knees when he implies to make you stay.

"What do you mean, of course- not! I mean-" His fingers shush you, and your chain of broken words stay gulped inside. But what should you say at this moment? You had no idea. When you gather the gravels of your whatever answers, his hands cup your cheeks.

"Let's date. Let's fuck. Everyday."

[transmutationisms]

Genuine question here, how can we increase patient autonomy and handle psychiatric medication for people who are disabled to a point where communication and understanding medication schedules would be difficult? I think a lot of people in my circles have gotten to a point of understanding, yes, anti-psychs can be more detrimental to patients with no positives when talking about a person with psychosis in their 20s who is somewhat able to manage themselves, but have difficulty parsing what would be best in the case of an older person with a neurodigenerative disease, and as someone who is at risk for developing Alzheimer's, I'm not sure what patient autonomy would look like for myself at that stage of life.

alright so, the question of how to increase patient autonomy for those who are mentally incapacitated in various ways is a legitimate one -- this has been a problem in paediatric and geriatric medicine for reasons both social and biological, and also affects disabled/injured/sick people of any age.

the assumption you've attached, though, is that 'antipsychotics' (neuroleptics) are actually in a patient's best interest, and that therefore it might be justified to administer them without consent in cases where it cannot be obtained. this is just incorrect and tells me you didn't read any of the links in my other posts about neuroleptics. these are not drugs that 'cure' 'psychosis' -- they are drugs that used to be marketed as 'chemical lobotomies' for a reason! they are unsafe in the long and short term, and are administered because they make patients compliant (incapacitated, numbed out, chemically dependent). the question of consent is just moot here imo.

to touch on the general question: usually with patients who are unable to consent, what is supposed to happen involves a mix of designated legal representatives, loved ones who are present, professional patient advocates, and the patient's own advance directives. my opinion (& this is common among disability advocates) is that doctors are often overeager to decide patients cannot consent, and will talk over/about them rather than taking the time to try communicating with them in ways they can understand. a person's own legal representation or the hospital's patient advocates sometimes help bridge this gap, but many times these people are also nakedly ableist, and fundamentally it's ableism that is exacerbating this tension.

obviously there will also always be some cases where it's simply impossible to get consent from the patient themself (for example, my uncle had a pituitary tumour that made him suddenly and irreversibly experience a total break from reality, resolved only after his wife consented to surgery on his behalf) -- in those cases, yeah, medicine sometimes means intervening without a direct yes from the patient. but the reality is that many people who are currently considered unable to communicate, choose, or advocate for themselves are in fact capable of a trying to do those things -- they're simply not being granted that right in current social/economic conditions. this often includes people dealing with neurodegenerative conditions btw -- these are incredibly difficult conditions, i won't pretend otherwise, but it is a myth that they completely and instantly rob a person of all ability to formulate preferences about medical treatment or quality of life, or to express those preferences.

[six-eyed-samurai]

YOU HAVE 30 UNREAD MESSAGES...

SUMMARY: Rindou loves you and all but...you really aren't supposed to be spamming his phone during a meeting right now.... A/N: This is absolute crack, based off a recent convo and dedicated to my unhinged moot @plebbypebblepleb WARNINGS: Sanzu on drugs and swearing

>>look at this cat I found

>>he's so cute!!!!!!

>>IM GONNA DIE FROM CUTENESS can we pls pls adopt him???

>>never mind

>>HE BIT ME

Rindou felt his eye twitch. He discreetly swiped away the notifications on his pinging phone away under the table. Thankfully no one had noticed yet, although Ran was grinning slyly at him he always was.

Twenty messages.

Barely ten minutes had even gone by in the meeting.

Luckily he had turned off volume for his phone. Mikey wouldn't be too happy to have his Bonten meeting so frequently interrupted so unprofessionally. Rindou didn't have much interest in being laughed at or questioned by the others either.

>>riiiiiiin

>>I was watching some videos

>>would you become a 100 foot boa constructor who eats British children boiled and gets skinned to be used as socks or boots for a Russian lady I consumed three centuries ago (she tasted like coconut)

I'm in a meeting<<

And no???<<

Rindou continued to nod at Mikey's words, doing his utmost best to divide his attention between his rapidly typing fingers and his boss while Ran ducked his head under the table curiously and came up with a wink and a very obvious smirk. Koko eyes them both suspiciously.

He was used to this. Absolutely. One thing that came with dating you was that you had a tendency to spam his phone with updates of what you were doing, odd things you had seen, the most creative of questions and pictures bordering on unhinged.

He wouldn't change it for anything, of that Rindou was certain. He loved you to Pluto and back and in an every day fight he'd take your side over Ran (even despite the elder Haitani’s “miserable” theatrics of supposed betrayal). The texts livened up the dreary work of being part of the number one most wanted criminal gang.

But…

>>I'M NOT FINISHED

>>or drink fruit juice that will give you the seven most deadly diseases

Both are terrible<<

>>[image attached]

WTF<<

>>Like it?? <33

I don't want close up pics of your feet<<

>>how dare you

…it was quite the inconvenience when he was supposed to be working.

Like right now.

Rindou reached up and rubbed his temples. Mikey was getting to the important part and he was really struggling to concentrate. It wasn't like you didn't know he was busy. He had specifically mentioned it today. Rindou couldn't fault you either - this was just your love language and…this was probably revenge for him misplacing your favourite shirt.

He briefly considered ignoring your texts for now, until he could answer them later. But then it'd probably spiral to a 100+ and the vibrations were really starting to get to him. And he did once promise to never ignore anything you said after you apologized for talking too much. You might even call him.

Ugh. What a conundrum.

Ran’s smile widened and a new notification sprang up on Rindou’s phone.

>>Ah ah ah lil bro

>>texting your gf in a meeting?

>>you're very obvious about it

>>I'm sure Mikey will notice soon~~

Great. Two idiots were spamming up his phone now. Couldn't he ever catch a break? He caught Kakucho’s frown at him and adjusted his poker face again.

Shut up<<

You're on your phone too<<

>>I'm just warning you~~

Rindou exhaled sharply and kicked his brother under the table. Childish, but Ran was a child and he deserved it.

>>Rin???

>>guess what!!

>>my fav singer just dropped a new album!!

>>can we buy it later

>>pleaseeeeee

“Haitani Shithead! What are you doing under the table?”

Crap, Sanzu caught him. Rindou shrugged, leaning away from his side-eyeing neighbor. “Nothing, just need to arrange some things on my phone for some debts to be collected,” He lies casually.

The pinkhead is probably too high to realize the holes in the fib. Thankfully he lets it go with another pop of a pill. “Sure, don’t gotta be so secretive.”

“Also, don’t call me Shithead.”

>>[3 images attached]

>>chat wake up what is going on in my friends gc rn

Yes, Rindou wanted to scream, he absolutely had to be secretive…with the cursed pictures you had just sent him. Thirty unread messages already and the meeting wasn’t even ending yet! God, Ran wasn’t helping either - he too was now spamming Rindou’s chat.

>>rindou and (y/n)

>>sitting in a tree

>>k

>>i

>>s

You know what, he could make his excuses later. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Rindou massaged his temples again, sighed deeply and looked down on his phone.

He blocked the both of you.

***

Of course it came back to bite his ass when he went home later that night: having taken extreme offense to the block you had promptly banished Rindou out of your once shared bedroom and he was exiled to the couch.

Which was being hogged by Ran who claimed he was there first for his sixth nap of the day.

Maybe next time he should just “lose” his phone before a meeting.

[xxnghtclls]

Uraume‘s Epilogue

Information about Sukuna we got with this epilogue that I find important 🤲

The cloak that Sukuna wears is an actual proper black Haori with sleeves 😆 He even seems to have made holes in the back to be able to stick his second pair of arms through it!

As a moot on bluesky pointed out: his icehouse is called a Himuro. It even looks like he built it himself. Or he found an abandoned one, or killed the previous owner. I‘m not sure about how far those icehouses were located from the actual residence of a person, but so far it seems to me that Sukuna might‘ve lived all alone in that forest. (Maybe even built himself a hut idk) I sure have always seen him as someone who enjoys quiet and nature.

Considering he just made a hole in his Haori instead of having one tailored for him, we could assume he didn‘t have money or any kind of social interactions in that point of his life.

This whole page just screams Permission bro.

Him in a forest, the killed stags, Uraume preparing meat for him 😭

So what do we learn? Gege read Permission

Him taking Uraume with him (regardless of whatever their relationship was) and him staying with them after death, just shows once again that Sukuna isn‘t the raging mindless Monster some ppl make him seem to be. He actually can be very soft at heart, makes me wonder if he took Uraume with him since he knows what it means to be an abandoned child / orphan. Of course he was calculating bcs of his destroyed ice house and the good meat, but he doesn‘t come across any kind of scary or devious in any of those panels. So there actually might be a soft core in him.

The translation said that his earrings are no decoration but that it‘s a deformed bone 😭 My guy has itching ears how cute can he get??

And finally, his twins soul got reincarnated into Wasuke, not Jin as we previously thought. I recommend to rewatch Wasukes moments in the anime. It‘s likely that Sukuna‘s behavior is very similar to his 😆

[zablife]

Shelby Christmas Spectacular

Summary: The Shelby family and their friends gather for a memorable Christmas party.

A/N: Written for @little-diable Chi's 17K celebration. Two lines in bold are borrowed from the Christmas scene in The Godfather. I admit I deviated from the x reader requirement so I hope that's okay. I wanted to find a way to honor all my moots' lovely OCs. (See the end for credits.) Fair warning this might be the worst thing I've ever written, but at least it was made with love 🤍

Warnings: drinking, cursing, mention of a weapon, mention of illness, hint of nsfw

Frances had been right suggesting the enormous Christmas trees in each room of the Shelby home. Something in her caring nature had sensed the change in Mr. Shelby’s spirits leading up to Christmas Eve. Now her preparations were being praised by Tommy’s partner, Lucy, who went room to room admiring the ornately decorated boughs. She did raise a concern over the candles on the tree in the parlor, wondering if it might be best to extinguish them before John's lot began running circles around the tree. However, she thought better of it knowing Tommy’s trusted man, Don would be standing nearby. 

The gentle giant was a comfort to them both this past year and she trusted him implicitly with the protection of their home. Nothing very bad could happen to you with Don by your side, Lucy thought, recalling the days when he’d saved Tommy from himself when she couldn’t.

As she passed through the hall, a servant delivered a telegram on an ornate silver tray. "Who do you know in Hong Kong, ma'am?" the girl asked with awe struck gaze. Lucy plucked the card from the curious maid, squinting at the small type. Having a grand time. My wife and I will return in January." She read the last line once more in a haze of disbelief.

"So he married her?" Tommy rumbled with satisfaction, pleased to hear his cousin was finally settled with the witty and well-connected Mei Chang. Wrapping his arounds Lucy, he gave her waist a gentle squeeze of appreciation he too had someone loyal by his side.

Lost in their own world, they scarcely noticed the click of Polly's high heels against the polished wood. That is until her voice rose sharply behind them. "Married?" she cried.

Lucy attempted to hide the telegram, but Polly captured it between her fingertips at the last moment, reading the lines that exposed her son's secret.

"Thought that's what ya wanted, Pol," Tommy remarked, only to watch the lines of her face crease in despair.

"I wasn't there, Tommy," she noted sadly.

"We'll have a party as soon as they return," Tommy assured her, glancing tentatively at Lucy who was doing her utmost to bite her tongue. She was perhaps the last person one might expect to give a party in Michael's honor, but the placation seemed to soothe Polly so she didn't object.

There was no time to consider the proposal now anyway, Frances brightly announcing the youngest Shelby siblings, twins Sylvie and Sonya, were on the line from London. Any lingering sadness vanished as Polly practically sprinted into Tommy's office to be the first to speak with them.

A tear came to her eye as she listened to their cheerful greeting which sounded very far away. "I'm sorry I couldn't make the last performance of the year," she apologized, thoughts drifting to their graceful form en pointe.

"It's alright, Pol," Sonya assured her softly.

"We've been so busy with rehearsals, we wouldn't have had time for a proper chat anyhow," Sylvie added.

"I'm coming in the new year then and you'll tell me all about playing Odette, hm?" Polly hummed.

"I ...erm...wasn't chosen as Odette," Sylvie revealed, failing to conceal the bitter disappointment in her voice.

Polly's head snapped up at that moment, ready to battle with the ballet master she longed to torment each time he snubbed her nieces in favor of another dancer. "I'll make a call," she promised, fingers subconsciously stroking the flick knife in her pocket. "No, Pol!" the girls replied in unison.

Polly could only chuckle at their solidarity, knowing they'd have her head if she interfered. They hadn't changed a bit from their days running thru the fens as wild reckless wains who abhorred being told what to do.

"Alright," Polly conceded, relinquishing the knife's handle. "I'll stay out of it so long as you two keep out of trouble. Do you hear?" Even as she said it she didn't believe they would, especially during their upcoming break when they would likely spend their nights in clubs. "No galavanting with Chi!" she added sharply.

"We won't," they replied in static monotone, tired of the lectures about their friend who had been deemed a bad influence after John and Arthur learned of her penchant for priests and professors.

Wishing them a happy Christmas, Polly passed the phone to Tommy who undoubtedly wanted to be sure they'd extended an invitation to tonight's party to Alfie and his wife Rose. Another chorused reply came down the line in one long exasperated sigh. Apparently it was a great insult to suggest they shouldn't have been trusted with the task.

Tommy rolled his eyes as he selected a cigarette from its case, allowing them to playfully berate their older brother about his lack of faith in them. Wishing them well for tonight's performance, he ended the call, eyes drifting toward the cars arriving in a long line down the front drive.

Of course Ada would be the first to appear, her glamorous new style on display for all to see. He smirked to himself as he took in the sight of her bright red lipstick specially ordered in New York and shipped to Boston by the caseful now that she could afford it. His sister had dressed to impress this evening and he was curios to see who she'd chosen to escort her when he nearly choked at the sight.

Her old friend Irene stepped from the car moments later, arm wrapped snuggly beneath Ada's gloved hand as they ascended the steps of Arrow House. "Are they..." Tommy began.

"Together?" Lucy offered, meeting Tommy at the window. She only shrugged at the question, uncertain of the details, though she quickly made a note to find out.

The car no one seemed to be able to place was the expensive Bentley, a newer model which put Tommy's to shame. As Bonnie and Vano passed, a long, low whistle rose from their mouths in appreciation of such a fine automobile.

"Don't you be lookin'!" Johnny Dogs scolded as he followed in their wake. "M not just gonna be lookin'," Vano whispered as he jabbed Bonnie in the ribs. His eyes roved the emerald green paint and polished chrome accents, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Nodding politely to the driver now exiting the car, he thought of nothing but a carefree joy ride later when no one would know he was missing.

He might have thought the car was impressive, but his jaw dropped at the sight of who exited moments later. A strikingly beautiful woman with tan skin and dark hair adjusted a scandalously low cut gown beneath her fur.

"Who is that?" he asked Bonnie.

"That's Eva Nelson and you best not look at her either, dinlow!" Bonnie advised, averting his gaze as Jack Nelson glowered at them. "He'll take a garrote to your balls for less," he gulped.

Vano only chuckled in reply, the cloak of youth and stupidity providing ample protection against Bonnie's warnings.

"Thought you were here to see Evie?" Bonnie remarked, watching his friend carefully.

"I am," Vano replied, straightening his jacket to impress Mr. Shelby.

As they reached the front door, they were quickly parted by a large slobbering animal barreling toward Tommy. As the enormous mastiff left a shining trail of saliva in puddles along the carpet, his owners followed behind with wide smiles.

"Tommy!" Alfie called out, arms outstretched in cheerful greeting, his cane nearly bashing Bonnie on the head.

"Alfie," Tommy barely acknowledged, preoccupied with the whereabouts of the dog. "And Cyril," he added with a slight start to his voice and a wince upon hearing the crash of something breakable in the next room.

"We couldn't bear to leave him alone for the night. I hope you don't mind," Rose commented with airy nonchalance. "Besides we know how fond you are of him." It was clear by the barely concealed grin of impish delight she knew that to be false. Alfie couldn't help the roar of laughter upon seeing Tommy's reddening face only made worse by the appearance of a distraught Evie.

"Dad, my ducks!" she shrieked, waiving her hands in perplexed gesturing which told him nothing of the flapping and honking created in Cyril's wake.

Momentarily distracted by the half-eaten wheel of cheese in Evie's hand, Rose began to snicker. They were full fledged giggles by the time Polly came rushing in to chide the teen. "For fucks sake, Evie, put that back!"

In a failed attempt to hide the cheese behind her back, she felt Polly tug her arm away to assess the damage. Noting the prominent teethmarks gnawed savagely into the rind, Polly cast a horrified glance at Tommy who was pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off an inevitable headache. He would need more than the one permitted drink to get through tonight, he thought.

After Arthur had been found drunk in the stairwell earlier in his Santa costume, he'd promised Lucy to stay sober in order to chaperone. Now the job would have to fall to nurse Charlotte as Tommy urgently motioned for a maid to bring him three fingers of whisky.

Then he called for another at the sight of Finn stumbling from a nearby closet, Santa suit around his ankles and striped underpants on display for all to see. "What the fuck are you doing, eh?" Tommy asked in exasperation, assuming Finn had shirked his duty in favor of more amusing activities. "Pull your trousers up, there are children here," he hissed at his younger brother.

Clutching at the fuzzy red material, Finn retorted, "It's the bloody kids who pulled 'em down. What did Esme put in those cakes?" Just then a chorus of war whoops erupted down the corridor, a sugar fueled search party giving chase. Finn scrambled away as they rounded the corner, continuing to hunt their uncle in manic delight.

Alfie escorted his wife into the drawing room with Rose clutching at her sides, wheezing through tears as she told her husband she'd found a new appreciation for Christmas festivities.

Jack and Eva Nelson were not as amused by the scene before them, Eva making snide comments about everything from their pitiful decorations to the lack of champagne. Jack didn't attempt to correct her, hoping to stay on her good side long enough to fuck on Shelby's desk later. A literal and figurative fuck you to his former business partner.

Blissfully ignorant to the scheme being concocted before him, Tommy leaned into Polly to discuss another pressing matter. "Pol, there are some people here not on the list." He eyed Luca Changretta, wondering when his old enemy had snuck past his guards.

As he approached the uninvited guest, he quickly realized Luca wasn't alone. A petite blonde with a slight baby bump took Luca's hand, her warm smile melting the ice in Tommy's cool stare.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Emily Changretta," the woman announced cheerfully. "You have a lovely home," she complimented her host.

"Thank you," Tommy managed with a tight smile. Turning to Luca he asked through gritted teeth, "And why are you in my home, Mr. Changretta?"

Luca shrugged as he attempted to apologize for the business with Solomons last year, a gesture Emily insisted upon to clear the air before their child was born. He stumbled as he chose his words, the act of humility quite unfamiliar to him. "Anyway...I come baring gifts to show there's no hard feelings on my end," Luca confided, reaching into his jacket pocket.

Misreading the gesture, Tommy pulled his revolver from his side at lightning speed. Seconds later he heard another gun cock beside him, realizing Don had been watching in the shadows.

As the crisis unfolded, Emily shielded her bump with an ear piercing shriek. She watched as Luca raise his hands into the air, a good natured chuckle tumbling from his lips as he assured her, "It's okay, honey. They don't trust nobody." He instructed her to remove a small box from his pocket and she did so with trembling hands. Holding it up for Tommy to see, Luca lightly shook the contents with a taunting smile.

Tommy could only sigh in relief as he holstered his gun and gave Don the signal to stand down. Reflexes sharp with lingering adrenaline, Tommy deftly caught the box as it came sailing through the air at him. As it clicked open an expensive set of gold engraved cufflinks sparkled back at him from the velvet lining and he furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Just tryin' to help you dress better," Luca said with a wink. Tommy's jaw clenched at the old insult resurfacing. It was clear Luca would never tire of making jokes at his expense.

Apparently that wasn't the only thing he had in mind to annoy Tommy, having brought a Sicilian business associate with him as well. Stefano Spinietta was a loathsome man who wore too much hair pomade and reeked of pungent cologne which lingered in every room he passed through. He also boasted endlessly about his family's importance and a girl back home desperate to become part of it.

As Lucy became the fifth person to hear his speech, she rolled her eyes and whispered to her horse trainer May, "I'd wager a tenner that Nina despises him more than I do." Needing a break from the head splitting boredom of the self important little man, Lucy went in search of better company. She felt a bit guilty leaving Ethel and May to chat with him, but knew they were more than capable of handling the pretentious weasel with their caustic wit.

In no time she found Ada and Irene, the women showering her with compliments on her new velvet green dress. "Please thank your mum for me, Irene. She really outdid herself this time," Lucy requested.

"She's the best dressmaker in Small Heath," Irene agreed.

"I think you both share that honor," Ada reminded her with a proud grin. She never tired of discussing Irene's gift for working with fabrics, even if the woman was too modest to admit her talent.

"Have you seen the dress Arthur bought for Heaven?" Irene asked, changing the subject to something other than herself.

"She looked stunning until Arthur vomited down the front," Charlotte replied, joining the conversation and the party for the first time that evening.

"Charlotte! I'm so sorry Tommy saddled you with Arthur tonight," Lucy apologized. She quickly filled a cup with punch and offered it to their employee turned close personal friend.

Charlotte dismissed the notion with a soft laugh. "It was no trouble. "Minding Arthur is like minding a sleepy kitten," she assured Lucy, clinking their glasses together in a show of solidarity.

"Not like Tommy then?" Lucy joked, everyone now thankfully able to laugh at the times Tommy had cursed and thrown things at the woman tasked with helping him walk again.

"God, Tommy was more like a savage lion!" Charlotte quipped, earning a hearty laugh from Lucy.

"Still is!" Lucy added jovially.

The women had hardly noticed Heaven appear, despite the stark contrast of her flowing white hair in a sea of brunettes. She had fashioned a new outfit out of the clothes she packed for the next day and somehow looked even more stunning than when she arrived.

"Heaven's back!" Ada exclaimed, waving her over to them.

Making her way through the crowd, Heaven appeared anxious and a bit out of place until they realized why. In her right hand, she awkwardly held the wrist of a little boy shivering of cold and clutching a stuffed toy to his chest.

Knowing that Heaven never knew what to do around children, Lucy took the lead. "Who have you got there?" she asked, looking down at the small child with a look of pity. His clothes looked far too thin for the weather and his teeth chattered loudly despite the gramophone playing a spirited jazz tune.

Heaven only shrugged, releasing the boy's hand as Lucy bent down to have a chat with him. "My name's Lucy. What's yours, love?" she asked in a warm, welcoming voice.

"Isaac, ma'am," the polite child replied, shifting his weight as he grew nervous with the attention of so many people.

"And who have you got there?" she asked, pointing to the toy he was squeezing beneath one arm.

"Mr. Giraffe," he sniffed before falling silent once more.

"Hello, Mr. Giraffe, what brings you all this way?" Lucy asked the toy animatedly.

Eyes flicking down to the well loved friend he always carried, Isaac confessed, "He's here to see Mr. Shelby. We need to ask a favor for my mum."

Lucy stared up at Ada and Heaven who only returned quizzical looks. None of them had ever seen the boy before and they certainly didn't know of his ailing mother, bed ridden back in town. However, the toy now looked familiar to Ada who gently asked to see it.

As Isaac held the one eyed friend to her patiently, she gasped at the recollection of Tommy donating it after Florence left home. The child was indeed telling the truth that he knew her brother. She nodded determinedly to Lucy, taking Isaac by the hand to see Tommy.

He was a brave lad, asking Tommy for help without tears and was swiftly rewarded with treats and the company of the other children. He settled in beside them as Emily taught them card games, whispering her best tips for counting cards. By the end of the evening Isaac was driven home with a belly full of cake and a doctor to see to his mum.

Waving goodbye from front steps, Tommy and Lucy stood arm in arm beneath a star filled sky. They sighed in unison, the long day wearing on them both.

"It's been quite a night, hasn't it?" Tommy recollected, too tired to think of the guests still lingering inside or the enormous mess to be cleaned after Cyril chased Evie's ducks through the lower level of the house bringing a couple of Christmas trees crashing down.

"And we've Michael and Mei's wedding breakfast to plan," Lucy pointed out.

Tommy hummed in recognition, no further words spoken between them. Lucy merely offered the comfort of her presence without the need to fill the silence. However, internally she was going over Frances' unofficial count of the mayhem: 12 guests too drunk to drive, 11 frantic maids to serve them, 10 pound missing from the safe, 9 bottles of whisky consumed, 8 stolen hubcaps, 7 smashed vases, 6 traumatized ducks, 5 suspiciously sticky piles of paperwork in Tommy's office, 4 men in need of stitches, 3 carpets needing cleaning, 2 overturned trees with broken ornaments and 1 ruined Santa suit.

She vowed not to think of it all now. Not when she'd yet to have a dance with Tommy. So she gently guided him inside to sway beneath a sprig of mistletoe. Resting her head on her lover's shoulder, she leaned into his strong frame with a contented sigh.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Tommy asked.

"Me? Oh, just you," she admitted with a giggle.

"Was tonight everything you wanted?" he inquired thoughtfully, cheek pressed to the top of her head.

She nodded slowly, grazing her cheek against his shirt front. "Everyone together and no fucking fighting?!" she exclaimed it like the miracle it was.

"We pulled it off," Tommy announced, leaning in for a celebratory kiss.

The tender moment was soon interrupted by Arthur's rough voice and the sound of mud caked boots sliding on hardwood. Still half drunk, Arthur staggered into the room. Pushing his hair from his forehead, he grumbled, "Fookin' kids!"

"Who, Arthur?" Lucy snapped.

"Isaiah and Vano are fightin' in the garden, Tom," Johnny Dogs finished the thought as he poked his head around the door frame. "Somethin' about Evie," he shrugged.

"Fuckin' hell," Tommy huffed, striding out to confront his daughter's suitors.

"Daddy, wait!" Evie cried out as she heard him stomping down the hall toward the back door. She grabbed hold of his coat tails, attempting to halt her father and his infamous temper.

"It was nice while it lasted," Lucy commented, holding up the hem of her gown to rush after them.

------------------

"It's rubbish isn't it?" Cillain asked, peering over the script he'd been reading aloud for the past twenty minutes.

A snort of laughter erupted from across the sofa, Clara's hand clapping over her mouth to stifle her giggles. "I didn't want to say anything..." she began before Cillian cut her off with a hearty laugh of his own.

"You didn't have to," he noted, tossing the pages aside as he pulled his wife into his arms. Cocooning her in his warm embrace they sat for some time silently considering the confidential pages of the Peaky holiday special.

"Stephen's taking the piss surely," Clara said as she thumbed through the pages of new characters and scenarios never once mentioned in the show. "It reads like..." she attempted to find the least offensive term to describe the disjointed work.

"A screwball comedy," Cillian offered.

"I was going to say fever dream," she confessed, looking up at her husband's striking blue eyes to determine how serious he was about the project.

"I know what you're thinking," he smirked, taking her chin in his hands. "But we'll hire Brummie to polish it for us and it'll be grand."

Clara gave him a worried look, "Isn't she the one who likes to bring out Tommy's dark side? I'm not sure I want to live with you whilst you channel him!"

"What about the American?" he asked with a deep sigh.

"K? I do enjoy the sentimental moments she creates," she remarked wistfully. "But I don't know why you're disregarding the other projects you've been sent. The romantic comedy about the tattoo artist with purple hair or the drama with the Kurdish Italian academic?"

However, he hadn't quite been listening, another thought suddenly stealing his attention. “You know, if we did this holiday thing, Marianne would be perfect for Lucy,” he mused, thinking of the enormous success of his friend's recent play and her rave reviews.

"You're actually entertaining the idea?" Clara asked hesitantly.

"Well I don't have to decide tonight. Let's forget about it for now, yeah?" he suggested, eyes growing heavy. "I want to enjoy the peace and quiet while we have the house to ourselves."

"A silent night," Clara agreed with a nod, leaning in for a deep kiss that would surely distract them both.

-----------------

Credits:

Brummie (as herself) @brummiereader

Charlotte (Tommy's nurse) @toms-cherry-trees

Chi (as herself) @little-diable

Clara Murphy (Cillian's wife) @cillmequick

Don (Tommy's employee and lover) @the-makingsofgreatness

Emily (Luca's wife) @darklydeliciousdesires

Ethel (May's gf) @shelbydelrey

Eva (Jack's wife) @evita-shelby

Evie (Tommy's adopted daughter) @novashelby

Heaven (Arthur's wife) @call-sign-shark

Isaac (boy from Small Heath) @garrison-girl-08

Jiyan-a.k.a "the Kurdish Italian academic" (Cillian's love interest in Shadow of the Sea) @lunarubra

K (as herself) @runnning-outof-time

Lucy (Tommy's partner) @mischievouslittlecreature

Marianne (Cillian's theater protege) @look-at-the-soul

Mei (Michael's wife) @vivianleighwishesshewasme

Mr. Giraffe (Florence Shelby's stuffed toy) @teenwolf-theoriginals

Quinn-a.k.a "the purple haired tattoo artist" (Tommy's love interest in Misadventures) @moral-terpitude

Rose (Alfie's wife) @justrainandcoffee

Stefano (Sicilian bastard) @peakyswritings

Sylvie & Sonya (Tommy's twin sisters) @pacifymebby

Vano (a gypsy boy travelling with the Golds) @wonderlanddreamer

------------

Tag List:

@alanadetigy 

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@theshelbyclan

@red-riding-wood

@elenavampire21

@lyarr24

@the-fangirl-diaries

@kmc1989

@everythingelseisextra

@stilestotherescue 

@helen06dreamer

@pietroxreader 

@galactict3a

@ietss

@mostly-marvel-musings

@writeroutoftime

@yolobloggers

@outlanderuniverse

@anilovessadbooks

@tremendousstarlighttragedy

@elliaze

@leenieweenie

@snickersmee

@niktwazny303

@copinghex

@margaret-morriss-secrethideout

@hecatemoon87

@ryecosse

@dandelionprints

@cillianmurphyfanatic

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@mrsarnasdelicious

@justlulu

@rangerelik

@babayaga67

@kmhappybunny240

@babaohhhriley

@literishdegree99

@padfootdaredmetoo

@smailaway

@aesthetic0cherryblossom

@allie131313

@xiluvfictional-men

@mrs-bellingham

@duckybird101

@writers-hes

@neonpurplestars89-blog

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 11.1 (MBJ x OC)

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

TW: grief

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

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

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

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

“Rough night, dear?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did what?? 

“Are you alright, dear??” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Raven: I don’t want that.

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

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

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

Michael: So let me fix that for you. 

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

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

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

Raven: It doesn’t change anything

Michael: I know… didn’t expect it to.

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

“Thanks, appreciate that.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hear you. I just don’t wann-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

“Rae? You busy?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She is… and I hope she knows that.” 

“So tell me about…” 

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

There has to be more than this, right? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too many…” 

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

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

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

“Tiff…” 

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

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

“Damn… tell me how you really feel.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To Raven on your 18th birthday 

To Raven on high school graduation 

To Raven after your first love 

To Raven after your first heartbreak

To Raven on college graduation 

To Raven on your wedding day 

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

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

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

To my sweet darling girl, 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy Birthday. 

Love, 

Mom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. Is it too late?” 

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

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

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

“For him… I’ll get up anytime.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

[jellyfishrui]

introduction time!!!!! ← finally made....

— hai hai !! sorry for the long wait for my introduction, but here it is!!

– this blog was made the eleventh of september , 2024 .. !!

minimal information about me :3

— you all may call me whatever feels right for you :3 !! i really don't mind :> ( i actually quite like what you all come up with :3 )

i use any pronouns ! but i mostly lean towards he / they pronouns !! :3

my favorite colors are : blue , orange , red , and purple !!

i speak both english and spanish ! ( considering asl.. )

— my birthday is on the 24th of february !

i don't really consume any sweets or drink any soda..

my interests !! :3

— project sekai :33

– ALNST ( alien stage :DD )

– tgswiiwnagaa !!

– orv ( haven't finished reading.. might consider continuing.. )

— sk8 the infinity :D

– ons ( owari no seraph :3 )

— omori :o

— nso ( i need to finish watching the full gameplay )

– litc ( uuuurgh... [ sorry ] )

– given

— cherry crush ( not as much as before though.. )

– link click ( im still waiting......, )

— school bus graveyard :3

– everything but your life

– class of 09

— ddlc :33

i may add more if i forget anything , or if i get into any new ones !!

my music interests :3

a run down of who i listen to would be jullie , msi , babymetal , mitski , radiohead , weezer , goreshit , antihoney , deftones , sewerslvt , c!nah , toby fox , exist†trace , alex g ..

— and a whole lot more :3

for my dni .. :

pretty simple , no proshippers , incest shippers , or anything in that category . don't be weird please :P

— also , i would not like anyone flirting with me , i have a very pretty boyfriend ( @nenerobopistol ) and wouldn't want anyone doing so ..

— thats all for my dni :3

extra stuff :3

as for my ask box , feel free to say anything you'd like ! i love seeing them :3

— if you'd like , you can send me suggestions onto doing something, i don't mind them :3

– all of my tags are in featured tags , i usually add my moots tags , feel free to ask if you would like a name tag and emoji tag ! :3 ( although, i usually ask :3 )

my project sekai code is 252842284121452548 !! ( if you want, you can add me c: ! )

i am open in moots tagging me in all sorts of posts !! ( the obvious not included :3 )

— and thats all i have to say !!

if you are curious in anything else , feel free to directly message me or ask me in my ask box :D !!

[vixensbrainrotts]

Young and Beautiful — Hanma Shuji

Content: Imagines

Warnings: vaguely sexual tension, nothing nsfw though

Summary: you decide to take boudoir pictures, and pleasantly surprised by your (very) hot photographer.

Vixen’s two cents: hello! This started out as an imagine but i realized i dont really like writing imagines (it feels so unstructured), so have this little scenario instead. Also, whilst rereading this i realize that Shui seems a little creepy and i swear i dint want him to come off like that?! It was a hot idea in my head, idk how well that that translated, lmk about it! Remember my REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! Also im still on the hunt for moots for proofreading and triangulation in case anyone is interested please contact me!!

When your auntie told you to go and take boudoir pictures, you thought she was talking crazy and waved her off with a polite smile, but she wouldn’t let up. “You’re as young and beautiful as you’ll ever be! Take them for yourself when you’re old like me! It might seem awkward but it’ll be worth it!”

If you would tell yourself from a week ago that you were had booked an appointment to the nearest place, you would have fainted. And if you would have told yourself from 4 hours ago, when you booked that appointment that you would eventually have to step INTO the store too, you would have freaked out. Screw that, you were freaking out now.

You had considered turning around and running about four or five times, but that little voice in the back of your head going pussy wouldnt leave you alone. In a burst of confidence you entered the shop and were met with a surprisingly comfortable atmosphere, and a cozy interior.

You scan the shop for a few seconds, deeming it good enough not to run out of right away, before a tall, slim figure emerged from one of the Backrooms. He wore a lazy smile when he came to you, clicking away at the computer on the desk before asking “Are you my boudoir at 4?” In a smooth, low voice.

You nod shyly in response, fidgeting with your hands a little. He chuckled in response “Don’t worry love, I won’t do anything- this is my job after all.”

He led you to a studio type room and handed you a robe. “Over there.” He said, and a long index of his rose to gesture to a little changing cabin in the corner of the room. “Ill go get everything set up for us.” And with that, he left you to freak out in the changing rooms because fuck he’s hot!

When you emerge again he’s already handling some sort of lenses to the end of the cameras, lights and props set up and ready to go. When he looks to you, you grow shy again and tug the robe a little tighter around your body. He sees this and nods reassuringly “It’s normal to be nervous, sweetheart.” Which only makes you more nervous.

He notices, but chooses to ignore it as he guides you to one of the chairs that are set up. “Now dont worry too much about anything. Just do your thing, ill do all the magic.” You sit, admittedly a little more relaxed but still stiff and he huffs with a smile. “Relax girl! You dont want these looking like pass photos do you?” And that makes you giggle a litte, finally loosening up again.

“There we go. That’s better already. Want me to talk you through it, distract you a little? Do you think that would help?” Eyes are soft but his gaze burns straight through you. “I think that would help, yeah.” And that makes him smile a little.

“How old are you anyway? You look very young- I don’t normally get a lot of girls your age.” He lifts the camera and clicks something on a little machine that begins whirring lightly in the background, producing little qualms of smoke. “I uh, im twenty two. Don’t get me wrong I would have never done this on my own accord, but my auntie, she said that id regret it my whole life if i don’t do this and all such things.”

Whilst you had been explaining, your robe had started slipping off your shoulders. You had noticed but found it the most natural transition into the inevitable. Getting more comfortable, you decided to throw your legs over one of the seat’s armrests, leaning back a little, getting comfortable, as he had advised.

“Thank your auntie for me then.” He whispered underneath his breath, the shutter clicking softly.

[fictionalsillies]

☠️ Introducing : me ☠️

( ⚠️ very important disclaimer : I’m not in a position where I can donate money , so please do keep this in mind when sending me asks !

Also my inbox might momentarily close from time to time , it will reopen as soon as I get the chance to reply to the asks I received to make sure I don’t leave any behind 👈 )

………………………………………🌼………….……………………………

Just realized that I didn’t even make a blog to introduce myself yet , so I finally decided to get it done at long last :,)👍

Please be sure to read this if you’d like to know more about me and this profile’s rules ! ( the most important stuff is at the bottom of this post 👈 )

stimboard made by @charlies-crushes

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                            ⋆ ★ GENERAL INFO

You can call me Lotty , both she/her and they/them pronouns are fine with me and my hobbies include mostly drawing silly stuff related to my favorite fictional characters and my original characters/self inserts ( they kinda fall in the middle of these two categories , some are more similar to me than others but they’re all a way to insert myself in my favorite stories :]👍) ;

I’m a huge fan of anything animated , especially independent projects on YouTube like Monkey Wrench , Lackadaisy , Murder Drones , Atlas and the Stars , TADC eccetera :)

There’s also a variety of games I like , such as Hollow Knight , Night in the Woods , Ori and the Blind Forest and many more !

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                            ⋆ ★ F/Os and S/Is List

( this list can be subjected to changes and updates )

Jaw Bone ( Monkey Wrench ) —> Jade

-Status : current primary crush , will likely avoid to check out content related to other romantic ships with him ( to clarify , I’m never mad at anyone for liking the same character as me or for enjoying pairing him with someone else ! It’s merely a decision I made for my own emotional benefit :)👍)

Bea ( NITW ) —> Sarah

-Status : neutral sharing , I actually enjoy some ships with her and other canon characters like MeaBea

Godseeker ( Hollow Knight ) —> Lihm

-Status : neutral sharing

Baroness Von Bon Bon ( Cuphead ) —> Crème

-Status : neutral sharing

╰┈➤ Comfort Characters

Lucifer and Rosie ( Hazbin Hotel , also while I really like these two characters I don’t consider myself a supporter of Vivziepop )

Ori ( OATBF and OATWOTW )

Mordecai ( Lackadaisy )

Krobus ( Stardew Valley )

Perrito ( Puss In Boots TLW )

Monika ( DDLC )

Entrapta ( SPOP )

Double Trouble ( SPOP )

Raine ( The Owl House )

Marcy ( Amphibia )

Narrator ( The Stanely Parable )

Quirrel ( Hollow Knight )

Snatcher ( AHIT )

Commander Peepers ( WOY )

Bruno ( Encanto )

Elsa ( Frozen )

The Spot ( Spiderman ATSV )

Spiderman Noir ( Spiderman ITSV )

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  ⋆ ★ ART REQUESTS

- Current status : CLOSED , with an exception for my closer moots { I tend to get anxious about receiving too many requests and becoming too overwhelmed to draw them all : this has happened before in other occasions and it was a pretty stressful time for me , so that’s the only reason why I’m putting this limit 👍}

{ also I’m more likely to draw self shipping/oc x canon related ships related requests , it’s kinda my thing at this point ^^” }

{ oh - and I would prefer not receiving anything heavily nsfw ( though mildly suggestive elements are okay-ish , depends on what the request is about ) : I’m not able to draw that kind of thing anyway because of my less-than-great anatomy , so that’s a no-no :T }

╰┈➤ ART TRADES

-Current status : OPEN-ish { not always able to accept due to irl matters keeping me busy , it really depends on the time }

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                            ⋆ ★ RULES ( very important )

I’m not a fan of pro-shipping and all things related to it since it makes me pretty uncomfortable , so if you’re into that I’d rather have you block me and not interact with my profile , or the other way around . Also needless to say , but if you’re homophobic or racist in any way you definitely aren’t welcome here .

I get incredibly anxious when receiving private messages without warning , so please just ask me beforehand weather or not I’m down to chat either in my inbox or my blogs , or just say something other than just “hi” in the message ! Overall , private messages as a whole just make me nervous , I prefer not using them unless it’s absolutely necessary ( plus I almost never check them , so I’m not the best at keeping the conversation interesting … I’m the most awkward human on the planet when it comes to that stuff .-. )

I can find myself too busy to hang here at times , so if it takes me a while to respond it’s definitely not because I have something against you in any way : this isn’t an excuse , but I do also suffer from adhd , so it’s possible for me to forget about some stuff while struggling to focus on everything else … yeah ;C;

Some of my posts may include occasional swearing sometimes : I keep it to a minimum , but I thought it would be good to bring this up in case anyone is uncomfortable with it .

If by chance I ever happen to draw something mildly suggestive ( I’m never going to do anything fully NSFW tho !! ) , I’ll always be sure to put a warning at the start of the blog 👍

( also this profile’s theme might change from time to time based on which character I’m currently obsessing over ://] ❤️ )

[herrling]

we've been talking a lot about the coley video but can we also talk about comments?

okay let me yap on some of these points

‼️big salt ahead‼️

first of all i don't want to invalidate anyone's experience here. it's fine, it's okay, yeah. but let's please remember something - YOUR experience is not EVERYONE'S experience, yeah?

now, in order

the first comment is so fucking stupid I don't even want to discuss. "oooh self shippers are so problematic" yeah i think if someone chooses Bakugo over you it's either A COMPLETELY FUCKING NORMAL THING THAT PEOPLE HAVE PREFERENCES, or you must've been so damn shitty to them they chose someone else. idk.

second, third and some other that has adjacent message sound so... disvaluing? i might surprise someone out there but there's 👏 nothing 👏 wrong 👏 with 👏 taking your self shipping as serious as you want. no, really. if you count your self shipping as something more than "just having fun tee-hee" then GO FOR IT. you know what's TRULY concerning? when you commit a literal CRIME for your self ship, but afaik it's concerning in irl relationship too.

yeah finding balance is cool blah blah blah. it's not like i disagree, i just don't like the wording. it feels like another disvaluing of one's experience. everyone has different families - some have very abusive ones so their self ship is a literal safe haven. some people are FICTOS (hi lachlan if you're reading that I now understand what you meant) so their self ship is a literal part of their sexuality/romance experience. why do I even have to explain that???

then there's this part that is so stupid i can't. "if my partner would feel jealous about my self ship I'd drop it for them", if your partner isn't okay with a literal part of you maybe they shouldn't be your partner??? no, i mean, hear me out on this. i know this stuff is complex and all but just. all of these comments seem to NOT allow that some people consider their f/os their full partners, as I said, and that's the fucking issue. so take this from a person who DOES consider. there are situations where people fall in love with more than one person at once, yeah? there are polys and stuff, yeah? some people okay with being in a poly relationship and/or share their partner, some not. if you two are full grown adults, you SPEAK about it and come to some agreement - to continue your relationship, to not, whatever. so if your self ship is important to you, THAT'S what has to happen. you don't need to drop everything suddenly just because "oh well it's fictional and not real..." (if it's works for you tho it's fine, I'm talking about the statement that it's like what ALWAYS should happen FOR EVERYONE).

so yeah I'm mad with these comments. self shippers get hate in fandoms already, and even when they're accepted it's ONLY if they don't take their self ship seriously. as for those like me, oh don't get me started. I might make a whole bingo of what I got personally and what people said in general about self shippers like me. i was harassed for identifying as ficto, btw.

oh and yeah my favourite. "it's just fun and fiction, if a person can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality, they need professional help". typical advice nobody asked for but here we are. I honestly hate advices like that because they sound so fucking ableistic and clearly come from people that think that after seeing a couple of pseudopsychological videos or reading a couple of sci pop articles they can give advices here and there (plus to people they don't know shit about).

and do i need to remind you how many self shippers are seen as mentally ill ONLY for self shipping alone? do i need to remind you how much harassment they get basing on that?

and yeah this video doesn't help. even though people say it wasn't as bad as the title said it still didn't help and, as my moot said, was UNNECESSARY to do.

what do I say. self shipping itself is HARMLESS, in any form (yeah there are proselfshippers that selfship with literal kids, not even aging them up just. with kids. ykwim). yeah I said there was a dude who killed for their self ship or smth like that but it's a bad wording, we all know the person just had general issues and making it look like he committed mass shooting because of self ship is a "kids are violent because of videogames" typa shit, I hope y'all understand this. I'm saying that people seem to just not care to educate themselves enough before saying "ummm well selfshipping is fun BUT 🤓☝️". seriously, stop. leave selfshippers alone. if someone chooses selfshipping over irl relationship well that just HAPPENS yk. it's literally the same as just. choosing one person as a partner over another, but we don't consider it as a problem that should be mass discussed, do we? so why's selfshipping is any different?

I must also bring this up: fictophobia is a kind of aphobia, in my opinion, if we consider the fact that fictosexuality/-romantism is on aspec. I'm not sure I should elaborate on this one. you won't judge an aroace for not dating/sleeping with anyone, so why you should judge someone who takes their selfship seriously to choose over irl relationship?

in conclusion, just. talk to your partners if you're in a relationship, idk. people be tapping about this so much as if there isn't already an ultimate solution to every issue - TALKING. you know? the ability we were given along with the way our throat is built and our brain is shaped (okay sorry this cane out kinda mean-).

and choosing selfshipping instead of irl dating is not something morally incorrect. you have the right to. just figure it out with your partner if they're present. yk people date, people break up, it's normal.

idk why the comments are like that.

jeez.

[libraryspectre]

Ugh ok fine I'll talk about my murderbot casting opinions

Awhile back I noticed people getting irritated with Kevin R. Free as the audiobook narrator because he's a man with a Man Voice and it really rankled me. People of any gender can have any voice, and anyway, Kevin R. Free's voice IS fairly androgynous.

This is more or less how I feel about a man being cast as Murderbot. It would have been nice to have a nonbinary actor play Murderbot, because nonbinary actors need more roles, but Murderbot is not nonbinary. Murderbot is nonhuman and human labels are N/A. Gender is N/A. You could argue that is splitting hairs from a representation standpoint, but I think it's core to the theme of the series. (Also, it's great that nonbinary people relate to and claim murderbot as representation, we just need to acknowledge it doesn't experience being genderless in the same way a human does). Because of this, I don't think the studio was ethically obligated to cast a nonbinary person.

I think, from a worldbuiling standpoint, I would have liked someone with a fairly androgynous voice and facial features. This is because we know murderbot is sexless, with no secondary sex characteristics. As far as murderbot's flesh parts, the only relevant features I can think of are voice and lack of facial hair.

So, I'm actually pretty fine with a man being cast as murderbot? I think to follow the logic of secunit biology he should stay clean-shaven for the roll, and maybe avoid the deeper registers of his voice (I haven't heard him speak so I don't actually know what he sounds like.) His features are pretty traditionally masculine but that doesn't really matter, and he has big ol eyes that could help them play into the androgynony if they chose to.

My bigger initial problem was with Murderbot being played by a white actor. I think a lot of the readers' image of Murderbot has been shaped by the Tommy Arnold illustrations where it's dark-skinned. It doesn't actually say anywhere in the books, from what I remember, what Murderbot's skin-tone is like, but we do know it's made from a slurry of donor DNA and the Corporate Rim has people with a wide range of features (I avoided alluding to racial diversity here because we have no idea what concept of race the CR or any of the other settings actually have. Edit: to clarify, the characters are definitely racially diverse from our viewpoint. I just felt the need to caveat because the concept of race is very cultural and we don't actually know what cultural concepts of race the setting has, if any at all. This is my anthropology degree showing lol). It makes little sense for Murderbot to be white if its DNA is built from a pool of people with, most likely, a wide variety of physical features. At least.....I think it is? I realized after thinking about this for awhile that I don't actually know if Murderbot's DNA came from one human donor or a variety of people. So this whole argument could be moot. (If you could direct me to evidence for or against this I'd be grateful).

So, Murderbot being white might be technically fine, from a worldbuilding standpoint, but at that point I think it's just kind of disappointing to see another show with a really diverse supporting cast and a white lead. That being said, there's actually interesting commentary to that, considering Murderbot was created to be a cop. I actually think, if handled well, the image of a bunch of white secunits policing the enslaved masses could be some really effective commentary. And to some extent, it doesn't matter if Murderbot's DNA came from one person or a pool of people, if you take the stance that the Company is intentionally choosing white features for their SecUnits. The commentary stands.

My other concern was that they would whitewash other cast members, but that doesn't seem to be the case.

Finally, the series having Martha Wells' stamp of approval encourages me that they've made these choices with intention and will handle them thoughtfully. I saw another fan point out that there is some power to the idea of seeing an actor on screen that most people would read as male, asserting again and again that it doesn't have gender, and now that I'm feeling more optomistic I agree.

And hey, I'm actually feeling optomistic!

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

a bit of a weird ask hello !! i’m a little new to the black clover blog scene; do you have any blogs that you recommend following? :0 (im reaaalllyyyy into everyone’s ocs, but i really just wanna follow cool people & dont know where to start sksks)

Hiya! :3

I don't think it's a weird thing to ask! No worries

Let's see... Well, obviously it depends on what kind of works/blogs/fanworks you're looking for, but I'll throw some blogs

A disclaimer, I might skip some moots who I do know have ocs, but most of the content/fanworks/etc is elsewhere/discussion happens on discord. So, this is by no means a comprehensive list!

@lyranova - Has reader inserts and a ton of OCs! Including next gens. You'll also find moodboards and occasional colourings

@loosesodamarble - A lot of OCs! As it stands in the description, also meta knowledge, occasional Japanese-English translation discussion and incorrect quotes

@the-black-bulls - Incorrect quotes! But is BB centric as the title says

@kalolasfantasyworld -Also OCs! And OC x CC, and CC x CC fics, but she writes out of her own whims. You'll also find art

@acacia-may - OCs and fics, a lot of platonic relationships! She explores friendships and family dynamics in her works more than most blogs I follow (I think); she is at the time of posting this, on a hiatus due to a family emergency

@yellowgreendinno - OCs, art, headcanons; Ginny is a newer mutual of mine, but an absolute sweetheart

@t-f-t - Fics and art! If you're looking for crack fics and fun/chaotic content (/pos), I do suggest you check them out. There's also a masterlist for content

@funky-sea-cryptid - Fics, art and a lot of OCs! Writes with @/t-f-t

@f-oighear - Fics! A big Nozessa shipper if that's your jam. But she has written a lot of quality content for the fandom

@mamavino - Fics and some OCs! She also writes out of her own amusement, but you'll find writing here

@vilandel - Fics and some OCs as well! Also writes out of her own amusement

@bowandcurtsey - Reader insert fics! She's been mostly MIA, but you'll find a ton of content there too

@valtoswife - Colourings! Posts aren't frequent, but you'll get nice art ^^

@clovernero - Art and colourings! Mostly reblogged (but this is a reblogging site), so if you want the occasional nice work of visual art, I suggest a follow

@wildflowerwoodsworld - A lot of fics! She explores mostly the Black Bulls (Finral) in her writing, but there are also a lot of good fics there!

@crazedstoryteller - Fics! (Dara I know you're not really active in the fandom anymore, but I wanted to give a shout out to your fics)

@crazycookiemaniac - Art! Cookie does commissions, and posts a lot of BC related art; the comms ^^

@koneko-pi - Art and writing. Also posts very little here these days due to irl as one thing, but there's a lot of nice content as well (and I do adore Briar)

---

I know I'm forgetting some people, and as said, some of those I interact with have their BC content in the depths of their blog, or post regularly about other things and aren't "BC centric" in that sense, which is why I'm not listing them here

But here you might find a lot of different kinds of posts, works, OCs, and vibes. These are just some names I would consider myself to be in ... "speaking terms" with /lh (shhhh... my tumblr "wives" I know I know it's much more than that :P )

I hope this gets you started! I thought I'd give you some different kinds of options as well, since you're only getting started and will find something you gravitate towards eventually ^^

[rems-writing]

To ensure your right-hand man's comfort

Pairing: gangster!Yunho × right-hand!reader

Summary: We really just need more mafia/gangster Yunho fics ngl. Also, this is not good at all so I'm sorry :(

Warning(s): mentions of guns, violence, gore, knives being thrown, gn!reader, soft!Yunho

Genre: Fluff with sprinkles of angst and crack to balance out the bloody scenario of this fic

Nets: @blossomnet @mirohs-aurora-society

I'm tagging @frenchkisstheabyss since she's a new moot of mine and I love her work

You and Yunho were laughing your asses off in victory as you drove away from the arson and bloodshed that you guys laid upon the location where your mission took place.

Well... Yunho was. You were sitting in the driver's seat, anxiously getting back home.

Your knuckles were white due to the tight grip you had on the steering wheel. Your anxiety grew even more when Yunho carelessly threw random bills out from the black duffle bag he kept in his bloodied grasp. Once you arrived home, both of you exited the car and made your way to the front of the large mansion he holes himself up in.

"Come on! Don't dilly dally! We should celebrate while the night is young!"

"You can do that. I'll be in my room."

Yunho's smile faltered and he sighed deeply before nodding firmly and watching you go up the stairs to your room.

He should've listened to his friend about tagging you along.

You've been Yunho's right-hand man for three years. You have been the backbone of his small yet dangerous gang and the reason why he smiles every day. Despite the grim setting you were working in, you never complained once. So he wondered why tonight was different.

You never necessarily complained per say. You've practically been desensitized to everything that goes on in the gang. From gun polishing to beating up suspects in order to get answers.

Let's not forget about all the times where Yunho got so angry that he would randomly throw knives at anything. It would range from vases to even the windows of the many cars he owned.

All of that you could easily brush past.

But when he personally asked you to be the getaway driver for tonight's mission, you immediately wanted to say no. You didn't hate driving.

You hated the anxiety that came with it.

Being a getaway driver was serious shit and you felt you weren't confident enough to pull this job off.

Yunho never knew that though. Why? It was simple.

You were afraid of Yunho getting angry with you.

As Yunho scrubbed the dried blood off his hands under hot water, he thought back to his conversation with his best friend Mingi.

"I don't know, man. Y/N is tough, but there have been times where they aren't so confident." Mingi said to Yunho.

"Oh come on! Have more faith in them!" Yunho exclaimed, seemingly baffled by Mingi's concern.

"I do! It's just... you don't really know what goes on inside their head. You just drop commands and they blindly follow."

"So?! What's wrong with that?"

"Have you ever considered that maybe they're comfortable doing everything else except that?"

"If they were uncomfortable with it, they should've told me!"

"That's the thing, Yunho... they're afraid that you might lash out at them if they spoke up against it."

"But they know I would never be angry with them!"

"Do they... do they really?"

The conversation ended there. As Yunho was hunched over the sink, he was deep in thought. He groaned in frustration and felt guilt creeping up on him.

He needed to talk to you.

You were sitting on top of your bed, knees folded up against your chest as you stared into the void. You were so lost in your anxiety that you didn't notice Yunho barging in.

He had a habit of doing that.

However, instead of flopping down on your bed like he usually does, the giant puppy instead hovered over you and placed a hand in your hair, his fingers lightly massaging your scalp. You looked up and grew concerned when you saw the guilty expression on his face.

"Is something wrong, Yunho?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

The softness and slight cracks in his voice made your concern turn into worry. You sighed and patted the spot next to you. Yunho obliged and sat next to you before pulling you into a hug.

You were shocked to say the least.

In all of your time being by Yunho's side, you have never this kind of proximity with your boss. The most he did was just pat your shoulder or head. So to be enveloped in the arms of the most dangerous gangster was slightly foreign yet deep down, you knew you needed this. You slowly returned the hug and froze when you felt a tear drop down onto your shoulder.

Was Yunho... crying?

"Hey. Tell me what's wrong."

"I should've known..."

"Known what?"

"That you were uncomfortable with being the getaway driver!"

Oh

So he figured it out.

"Yunho, it's fine -"

"You will listen to me and not say it's fine! Because it's not!"

The sudden exclamation made you flinch but you nodded slowly and let him speak.

"Look. You are the only one I trust with everything. And I am so grateful for that. However, I should've realized that you also have limits. I just thrust you into that position without asking you if you were ok with it first and I... I just..."

He hiccupped and hung his head in shame while you sighed quietly.

"Yunho, listen. You know that I would do anything for you. Ever since you saved me from dying on the side of that road after I was abandoned, I've been in debt to you. To have your trust is like winning an award at life."

"But in return, you should trust me! Y/N..."

He grabbed your hands and rubbed your knuckles with his thumbs.

"Are you afraid of my anger if you spoke up for being uncomfortable?"

"I wouldn't put it past you -"

"You do realize that I would never hurt the person I trust most, right? We are partners! If you don't like a certain task, tell me and I will assign you something else. Please just tell me... I can't bear the thought of you being so uncomfortable with something yet you push past it just so you can please me."

He leaned in and kissed your forehead.

"Promise me you will do that?"

"Only if you promise me to never assign me as the getaway driver ever again."

"Deal."

Yunho's heart skipped a beat upon seeing the genuine smile on your face. He ruffled your hair and grabbed you so you could sit up and lay against him while he sat up against the headboard.

"So... want to tell me how that hook up went with Mingi?"

"HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?!"

"GIRL, YOU LOUD AS HELL!"

"I BLAME YOUR FRIEND!"

"FOR WHAT?! BEING SO FINE?!"

"Ok but like I never said that though."

"Mmm. Sure. Don't forget our little convo about how you found Mingi so attractive and sexy and that you'd do anything for him."

"Ok listen -"

Yunho simply laughed while you tried to poorly defend yourself.

This is what he wanted from you.

He wanted to ensure that you are comfortable, no matter what the situation is.

After all, gangsters do indeed have a heart.